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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 3 months

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Hi! I was wondering if request are still available, if you could do one where all the boys find out their mate making or has made dolls of them. I think that they could have a cute sit funny reaction. I will leave most of it to you!

I hope you like this!💜

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I'd always been creative if I were to believe both my parents and my teachers. I had always been drawing during class, making papercranes out of the burgerwrappers if we went out for dinner. I was always just making things. I was nine when I read Coraline. The creepy button-eyed dolls, the fear of having your own eyes replaced by buttons - as a kid it terrified me. As an adult, it was my inspiration.

Ever since I was seventeen, I'd been making these dolls, and now, at twenty-three, I'd say that I was incredibly skilled at making them. The dolls I made were sometimes based on real people, but lately, I based them on people I'd seen in my dreams. These four faces had - haunted is the best word to describe it, but I enjoyed their sudden presence in my dreams - haunted my dreams for weeks now. They showed up right after I had decided to move to Santa Carla. I wasn't quite sure yet if the dreams were trying to tell me something, but I decided that I needed to make those faces real. So, over the course of about three weeks, I made four dolls. One with an almost white mullet and ice blue buttons for eyes, wearing all black. A brunette with golden brown buttons and a jaguar painted on his jacket sleeve. A curly blond with green buttons and a colourful jacket that I hated making, and finally the last blond, once again with blue eyes, wearing an old fashioned tailcoat.

I had admired these dolls for weeks, having them up on my shelf. After a couple of months, I finally found an apartment in Santa Carla, and I had to pack them up. Once there, in my new apartment, I kind of forgot about them. Of course, I knew I made the dolls and that I kept them in the box that was now somewhere in my closet, but I didn't take them out. Not until almost a year later.

Santa Carla was lively, magnificent, and spectacular - during the night at least. During the day, I realised it wasn't much of anything, so I decided to spend my days working and my nights enjoying all that the town had to offer. It was one night when I went out to grab a movie that I noticed them. The four faces I had seen in my dreams. The four people I had turned into dolls. I freaked. I dropped the movie, turned around ignoring the calls of the owner, and ran off.

This wasn't happening. They weren't real - they were figments of my imagination. They had to be - dreams aren't real. They weren't real. Right? I ran home, trying to forget their faces, trying to ignore the fact that apparently they were real.

In the days after, I spotted them everywhere. In the grocery store. In line for the big dipper. At the concert down at the beach. Everywhere I went, I swore they went as well. I still wasn't sure if I was terrified, confused, or just freaked out by it. I had tried to reason with myself, that maybe I had seen their faces in some magazine before, or that maybe they had traveled througn my home town once. After all, some people do say that you can't dream up a face you haven't seen before. But then again, I would have remembered that, right? Guys, this handsome? Yeah, no, I definitely would have remembered seeing them before.

One Friday night, about four weeks after I began to see them everywhere, I noticed that my shoelaces were loose. Kneeling down to tie them, not realising I had been kneeling down next to their bikes, I heard four voices behind me. I looked up and saw them. I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Are you alright?" The blonde with the tailcoat asked me.

"Yeah?" My voice was higher than usual, and I couldn't help but cringe a little at how uncertain I sounded.

"Why do you keep running from us?" The curlyhaired one asked.

"No reason?" I didn't like where this was going. How do you tell someone that you keep running because you saw their face in a dream and then made a doll inspired by it - and expect them to not hate you because you're a freak? If that happened to me, I would be horrified and call the cops telling them I was being stalked, honestly.

"Marko, you're scaring them," the brunette spoke up. He looked at me with a certain kindness I couldn't quite place. All of them looked kind at me, friendly even - while I'd never spoke to them before, and while I was certain they never acted this way towards strangers, which was what I was. Right?

"Who are you?" I asked, finally getting their names. The names suited them, and I smiled a little. I introduced myself in turn, and was about to leave when David spoke up.

"You want to come along for dinner?"

"Sure."

Where did that come from? I didn't even know them, I had actively avoided them, and now I was about to eat with them? I had no idea why I said yes, but looking back now, I am glad I did. Because that one dinner turned into a nightly thing. I enjoyed their company, their conversations, the way they were relaxed and easy going and just everything you could hope for in a friend group. Every night, I'd meet up with them, ride some rides, find some food to eat, and then just hang out and have fun. Over time, I couldn't imagine my life without them. I couldn't imagine not seeing them every single night, not speaking with them, or hanging out with them. And, worst of all, I was crushing hard. Very hard. On all of them. They just had to look at me, and I'd melt into a puddle. Honestly, I would do anything for them.

It was one November night, about five months after I met them, that things began to change.

"What are we doing tonight?" I asked, sipping on some coke I'd bought.

"You got some boxes for moving?" David asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, why?"

"We think it's time you move in."

"In the cave? You want me to live with you?"

"Yeah."

I grinned, hugging him tightly before grinning at the other boys. "Let's go then!" I tried to throw my empty coke can into the trash, but I missed by a foot - causing me to grumble as I picked it up and tried again. This time, I was successful.

Paul chuckled as he helped me step onto the back of his bike, and we quickly drove off to my apartment. Once there, I quickly grabbed the boxes and began to put my stuff in there. Clothing, books, craft materials - it wasn't until I heard Marko say something that I remembered I had my guys. As dolls. In a box, in my closet.

"These are so cool. You even got Pauls hair right!" he picked both the Marko- and the Paul-doll up and looked at them. "When did you make these?"

"A while back," I said. It wasn't a lie, not really. Paul took his doll, mumbling something about his hair being perfect the way it was, and that the doll was a testament to that.

Dwayne looked at me, and I knew he realised I wasn't telling everything. "I made them before I moved here."

"Nine months ago?" I nodded at Dwayne's question.

"How?" Paul had picked his doll up, putting it in his coat pocket after giving it a look of approval.

"This is going to sound creepy."

"So?" David shrugged. I sat down on my bed, sighing deeply before telling them.

"I saw you four in multiple dreams. I was curious and I made the dolls after I had those dreams."

"That explains why you avoided us when you just got here." David lit a cigarette, chuckling when he realised that the doll version of him had a tiny cigarette stuck behind its ear.

"Yeah, I mean - I was really freaked out." I stopped to think for a moment. "Wait, why are you four not freaked out?"

"We had similar dreams." Paul said.

"What?"

"Yeah," Marko nodded, "we knew you were coming."

"Why?" Seriously, this was getting creepy. Just a little.

"You like us, right?" Dwayne asked.

"Yeah."

"And you know what we are?"

"Vampires. Yes, we covered that."

"And you remember when we told you about mates?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with - oh..."

"Yeah." Dwayne nodded.

"So I'm -" I pointed at all four of them, and they nodded, "and that's why the dreams happened?"

"Yeah." Marko grinned, packing up a final box.

"So that I'm madly crushing on all four of you is because of that? We're supposed to be together?"

"Yes," David chuckled. He grabbed to boxes and walked outside, flying off into the night to bring them to the cave. I was quiet for a bit, smiling to myself. I was their mate? I belonged with them? That was absolutely amazing.

That night, when every last box was moved to the cave, I asked the boys if they wanted to stay with me that night. I always felt a little weird, sleeping somewhere new, and I just knew that I'd feel safe if they stayed with me. The bed they'd given me was more than big enough, and the five of us easily fitted on there. I laod down in the middle of the bed, surrounded by the boys, each covered by their own blanket. Arms and hands and legs were touching, tangled between the legs and arms of others. But even then, I had never been more comfortable. Slowly, I drifted off to sleep, surrounded by my mates.

When I woke up the next afternoon, I couldn't help but smile when I noticed that they'd grabbed the dolls I made and that they lay on the bed with us.

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #tlb #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys x reader #lost boys

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the-trash-eating-llama · 4 months

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Hey, I've finished ðe 1st and second chapters of my new book. I'm posting ðem boþ here, as I can't find where I posted ðe first one when I first made it.

I will be tagging ðis post as "llama writes" from now on, for ease of access.

On wiþ ðe reading!

As all things go, it was quiet. The season was autumn, the usual browns and greens of dirt and moss that often blanketed the forest gave way to spectacular oranges yellows and reds. Yes. Reds.

The red of a new flower, the red of a fallen leaf, and the red of painted wood. Nestled in between the exposed roots of trees long since fallen, lay a door, red as a dying sunset, circular in nature, with a shiny brass doorknob, protruding from the bottom of this now horizontal birch tree. How quaint.

And as it were, this was not just any fallen tree, nor just any door. No, this was the house of a woman, and no ordinary woman mind you, as she was possibly the toughest woman to ever dare live, for she harbored a curse. This, is her story.

Once, a very long time ago, the woman was but a boy, who carried water in a bucket for his mother, who needed that water for her bread. The bread was not easy to bake, it could take swaths of time to make one handful, but it was always necessary to have some, for it was never eaten immediately. The bread was used to make pies that could last for weeks.

The boy never understood why his mother would spend so much effort on making bread she never ate, as it was for the boy’s sister, who would bring the meat home. After a long day of hunting, she would carry the meat back home and have her mother put them in the pies, and eat some leftover soup with bread on the side.

The boy on a bright day walked down the dirt road, into the local hunting forest, through the brush, over a small creek of stones, and plopped down on a stump of a recently fallen ash tree, and pondered. He liked pondering, he found, the time he spent on that stump was often his most favorite time awake. Certainly better than carrying heavy buckets of water, he would think to himself.

But eventually, we all tire of the questions we have going unanswered, so after spending some time out there, a kindly tree near his spot would drop a leaf on his head, to tell him to go back home, and so he would. And he would ask his tired mother about his questions on the way of it all, and he would get told he spent too much time questioning the way of things and not enough time submitting to their forces. And then he would ask his wise sister about the general way of it all, and she would simply describe how things worked and what would happen if, but the boy never did find interest in the what will, only the why.

And so, he would find himself walking along those trees the next time he awoke, slumped on his stump, stumped by the general way of things. But this is not where the story ends, merely begins.

For, you see, one day, the winds began to change.

The boy, after a long day of carrying his bucket, he asked his mother why the leaves were a new colour, and his mother, who had not seen the trees that week, looked through the small window in her work house, and right jumped out of her skin. The leaves had changed, but much sooner than she would have hoped.

The mother took a moment to calm herself, for now was the hardest day of her year, autumn. Now, to most, autumn is but sweaters and scarves, but to her home, it was death.

The mother told her boy to get some rest, and take an extra blanket with him, for it would be a long night. The boy had little concept of night, but knew it was the part you slept through. So off he went to bed, wrapped in not only his sleep clothes and soft white fur blanket, but also in a new musk ox blanket handwoven by his sister to keep even the bitterest of frost out.

The boy slept well, but when he awoke, did not find a usual sight. Unlike the often bright window sill he was used to, spilling light all over the interior of his small room, it was dark, as if someone had draped blankets over his window, like his sister would do if the wind started to pick up and throw rocks at their house. The boy never did like those nights.

So the boy thought to himself that perhaps the time he was asleep was long enough to see, or rather miss, the beginning and end of a nasty storm. Reasonable as this conclusion was, when the boy reached out to remove the blanket, he only felt glass, as there was no blanket, and there was no storm.

For the boy had long since understood day, it was time for him to understand night.

With a sudden creak from nearby, the boy was awake, but had yet to see, for the room was blanketed in darkness.

“Hello?” He asked to no one in particular, and much to his chagrin, they answered.

“Greetings fine fellow, how may the night find you?” They boy gasped and tried to sit upright in his covers, but unfortunately could barely even squirm.

“Who are you, and what’s going on!?” Wherever the boy thought the voice could have come from, he certainly did not expect a quite large eagle.

“I am your friend, and you are being attacked.” Spoke the eagle, which was very impressive for such a bird.

“Why can’t I move!?” Cried the boy, trying his best to kick, punch, sit up, or much of anything.

“Now you’re supposed to introduce yourself to me, but I suppose that will have to wait for other circumstances.” Announced the eagle, which then jumped on the bed and turned away from the boy, stopping the boy from seeing what little he could of his room.

“Please, help me!” The boy wailed, but the bird hushed him with what can only be described as a ksssssst before a second entity emerged into the room, this time from the closet instead of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fowl.” Grumbled a voice most grumpily.

“Fyrirboði, how did I guess.” The eagle retorted, it was clear to the boy these two had a history, and he was in the middle of it.

“I wouldn’t doubt your tracking skills for a second, although I can tell you lack a partner still.” The grumpy grumbler grumbled, grumbly.

“My private life is no longer of your concern, and your presence here proves your assertion false.” The eagle defended, which puzzled the boy even more, who were these two, and why were they having such an argument in his bedroom?

“Of course, I simply wished to hear it from you, as you never do own up to your own words.” Fyrirboði stated, a statement that implied a long history indeed.

“Now leave Fyrirboði, I have no need to see you ever again.” Croaked the eagle, clearly on the edge of their limit.

“And that is where you are wrong, but I will heed your request, I always do.” And with a sudden decline of tension in the room, Fyrirboði was gone.

“Can I speak now?” The boy asked the bird, who now faced the boy with tears in their eyes.

“Yes you may, but please stay seated.” And as if the boy’s body thawed from ice instantly, he could move once again.

“What was all that, and what is going on!?” The child once again asked of the eagle.

“My name is Gripur, and I can be trusted, now as you can see, you are no longer safe here, and we must move.” Cawed the bird, answering absolutely zero of what the boy just asked.

“Oh, and before I forget,” continued Gripur. “What is it I shall call you?”

“Nemandi, and I need to tell mother about this.” Replied the boy, dazed and confused from the current situation.

“Well, Nemandi, you are the only one currently in this house, so I suggest we leave it before you disappear too.” Gripur described, leaving Nemandi with not only a degree of emotional whiplash, but also a full bucket of worry. At this rate, Nemandi might need a second bucket, or at least two trips.

“Outside, I can do that.” Nemandi agreed, finally.

“Good.” Replied Gripur. “Because we face more than old rivals tonight.”

So, how did you like it? I just finished it, so any criticism I can get would be helpful.

@decoysender @tangerineflavouredduck @mag150cul-de-sac @cannibalcanid @bigmeatpete69420 @illululusion @lovelythenabeana

Ðank you guys for inspiration!

And I will see you soon wiþ my next chapter.

#llama writes #i hope you enjoy #lgbtqia

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firemandeanbuck · 1 year

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Stars

HC Hob has this kind of ceiling in his bedroom, vibrant, glittery and spectacular. He painted it himself. He is crafty that way.

After their first time, spent and sticky with sweat Hob and Dream lay in bed, talking lazily, giggling and caressing each other's skin. Dream's skin is smooth, cold, and soft. Hob's skin is scarred, warm, and rough. It's perfect. Dream mouths Hob's throat, drinking the sounds coming from Hob's lips.

Hob had waited for this moment for over 500 years. He had hoped that one of these days, his stranger would be his lover. At last. It was true.

Hob did not sleep that night, he held Dream and talked and talked. Asked him endless questions, what he is, how he came to be, how the Dreaming is a part of him. In return, he told him all about the new age, the changes. Even when his arm fell asleep from being under Dream, he didn't move.

"Are you asleep?" Dream asked at some point.

"No", came the sheepish reply.

"That's a wonderful ceiling you have", he comments, just like the first time he saw his room a few weeks ago.

"Thanks. I painted it", murmured Hob, clearly fighting to remain awake.

"You can sleep", Dream reminds him,"I'll be here when you wake up".

“No, I’m fine”, Hob ran his hand on Dream’s jaw and kept it there, gently pressed against it.

“Your eyes are…beautiful”, Hob breathed, he didn’t dare to even blink.

They were beautiful, Dream’s eyes, they reflected the cosmos, the borning stars, the winking stars, the bursting nebulae, the damning blackholes, all of it. It appeared as if his eyes were windows to the universe themselves.

“You flatter me”, his cheeks went pink, his red lips tilted in a small smile.

“I love to see you red”, he brushed the back of his fingers against his cheek,

“Storyteller, tell me a tale”, Hob requested promptly,

Without taking his eyes off Hob, who was completely hypnotised with his eyes, Dream waved a hand to the ceiling, “I can SHOW you a tale”, delicately, Dream grabbed Hob’s chin and turned it to the ceiling.

Hob was stunned to say the least. It was spectacular, mind blowing, intriguing and celestial, to say the least. He personally felt like he was flying across the cosmos, like he can touch the stars, so close and intimate. He felt the stars dancing around him, the immortal basked in their company. It was almost like he could hear their heavenly laughter and siren-like voice, calling out to him to join their never ending celebration of life, universe and just being bigger than life.

The colours, oh, the colours, they were more beautiful than anything Hob had ever seen. Red, orange, green, blue, violet, pink, even the simple black stood out so much. So rich and vivid were the colours, no picture can compare. The way the nebulae move around, swimming freely like a mermaid in the deep sea. So many colours. Hob was sure there are more than his human eyes can comprehend or translate.

“It’s amazing”, Hob’s breath hitched. He reached out his hand to touch them.

For a moment, he felt tiny, microscopic even. What or who is he in the grand scheme of things?

“Thank you”, Dream muttered, “I’ve crafted them”,

“I know”, Hob chuckled.

“I mean the actual stars. The Night is my Mother, but she wasn’t as decorated as she is now”,

Hob blinked and turned his gaze to Dream, who was still staring at him, unblinkingly. Such adoration and love in his galaxy eyes.

“She is beautiful”, Hob managed, before his words got stuck in his throat.

“Aye. But I rather look at you”, Dream smirked at the open mouthed shock on Hob’s face. He brought his hand to Hob’s hairy arms, “Universe is a vast thing, you can be easily lost in it. So are your eyes. And I have been there. I prefer where I can feel your warmth and sweet touch”, Dream carried on the stroking to his hip and thigh, “You show me humanity that I’ve long forgotten”, the Endless blinked, now caressing his neck “Trust me when I say, the stars and planets holds no candle to your brilliance, my heart”

It’s safe to say Hob’s mind short circuited that moment and they didn’t get ANY sleep that night.

MY FIRST (hopefully not last) CONTRIBUTION TO FLUFFBRUARY <3

inspired by @staroftheendless starting a war against angst and dedicated to Fluff Princess @immacaria

#the sandman #the sandman fanwork #a little something #hob x dream #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dreamling #dream sandman #morpheus #stars #fluff #fluffbruary 2023 #fluff ideas #IM DONE WITH ANGST #I WANT MY IDIOTS TO BE HAPPY

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kuririhimitsukichi · 1 month

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Keroro Movie 4 deleted scene: Shion's Secret, Tamama's Disappearance

This is the scene I've mentioned that had finished animation, there's one version of the movie tie-in credits posted to youtube and you can see one clip there, but they didn't use the exact same mix of clips each week, so there are a couple more shots from the missing scene that were shown.

Removing it must have been a fairly last minute decision, and unfortunately it wasn't included in the bonus features for the DVD, not even the special release. My guess is it was either cut for time, or that it was decided it gave away too much of the story too early, but I wish we could have seen the whole scene in some way, it feels like it would have been really spectacular to see.

This part takes place right after the guest house scene, in the final movie after Tamama runs out of the room it cuts to Momoka waking up, and this scene would have happened between those two points.

Once again, the translation from the novel is under the cut:

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In the quiet night on the outskirts of Paris, a faint singing voice could be heard. It was such a quiet sound that if you weren't warned of it, you might not notice it, even so, if you listened closely, you could just understand the song.

The singing voice quietly, quietly echoed through the garden where afternoon tea time had been spent, the outer wall of Shion's castle......as well as the guest room on the interior of that, where Momoka & Tamama were sleeping. Nonetheless the two were firmly in the world of dreams. You'd expect they wouldn't notice the singing voice at all.

However.

The sleeping Tamama's eyes suddenly snapped open. The colour of his eyes was different from usual. They were lit up like jewels showered in moonlight. Suddenly waking up, Tamama agilely jumped out of bed. He moved carefully like a child trying to avoid being thought of as bad for waking up in the middle of the night. And so, like that he exited and left the room with soft footfalls.

And closed the door with a click.

Still in her bed, Momoka muttered "Ngh" in response before immediately returning to the world of dreams again. As for the other, now empty bed...... Just where could Tamama be going to?

Tamama ran with tapping steps through the lush, densely growing forest on the other side of Shion's castle. With a blank expression as if he were sleeping with his eyes open, he all around looked like he was being controlled by somebody......

Tamama easily pressed through the pitch-black night forest without stumbling. As he progressed, the singing voice gradually became louder. In a short time, the forest ended and a pond illuminated by the moonlight appeared. The footsteps of Tamama, who had been running through the forest, became slower.

In the center of the pond there was a small island. A small figure seemed to be absentmindedly floating there. The person was likely the one singing the song. Judging by the voice, the one singing was a young girl. But why might a girl be singing in the forest this late at night?

Tamama, who had stopped running at the edge of the pond suddenly came to himself. His eyes returned to their normal colour.

"Huh? Wha-what-what? Where is this place?" Despite having run there on his own, it seemed he had no recollection of it.

The figure on the island suddenly stopped singing and turned to look.

"Bonsoir, Tamama-chan" It was Shion, having put on a black cloak.

Despite sporting the same personable smile she had worn that afternoon, illuminated by the moonlight, the girl had a somewhat spooky feeling.

"Shiocchi! What are you doing so late at night?" You could hear a hint of fear in his voice. Instead of answering, Shion raised a hand and gestured to the sky.

"Look. Please look at the dragon arch. Hasn't it grown considerably? It was such a lot of trouble to make it appear throughout the world" Shion spoke in an unbothered tone while gesturing to where the black night sky was cut by the even more black dragon arch.

"Appear throughout the world? Just what are you talking about? The dragon arch..." Finally clearly awake, Tamama looked at Shion with suspicion.

But as expected, Shion did not answer the question, and simply continued what she was saying. "Soon my new family will be be born. My heart friend, the Earth Dragon" Shion's rapt gaze softened.

"Earth....Dragon? Is that a story you made up, Shiocchi? Momocchi told me. That you're good at making up stories"

"Tamama-chan, you will become a warrior who will protect the Earth" Shion did not appear to hear Tamama's words at all, but leaned forward slightly as she spoke.

"'Warrior.....?' Does that mean I'm going to be a character appearing in Shiocchi's story too? Or maybe something like shouting 'Worya!' and fighting?"

While Tamama was thinking, Shion had turned back and began to sing. A song that was like a mysterious spell.... In front of Shion there was a small altar, and on that a large tome was open. While singing, she spread her arms and hands wide above them, from the space between her palms, a ball of pale blue light formed.

"What were you doing just now? Shiocchi? Singing a song.....sng....."

As the singing voice grew louder, Tamama seemed to become enveloped by it, and his eyes took on a strange light. The same colour as when he'd sprang out of bed earlier.

"Uu.....my-.....my head....."

When did the singing voice become more than just Shion's?

"Wh-When did....."

Around Tamama & Shion, and the edge of the pond, black figures had lined up. The accumulating deep voices belonged to those men. When did it happen? That about 10 men were surrounding the pond.

Shion's song and the men's singing voices- their choir flared up so that if you heard them, you couldn't hear anything else.

"W-What, what is it? This song is......?" Pressing on his head to try and hold onto his fading consciousness, Tamama looked all around at his surroundings. These men he couldn't feel any sort of hint from, when had they appeared?

"Shiocchi?"

Shion and the men's singing voices had steadily grown louder and were echoing in Tamama's head.

"U, ua....., my body is.....is......."

The light between the palms of Shion's hands had been gathering strength along with the singing voices. As if it were signaling to that light, this time a light shone out of Tamama's body.

"My body is~~~~~!" The light enveloped Tamama and continued to grow larger. From deep in the forest, the glowing mass and body slowly rose. A piercing roar echoed throughout the night in the outskirts of Paris.

".......ngh, what is, this sound......" Having awakened, Momoka realised at that time that the neighbouring bed was empty.

#keroro #keroroposting #keroro gunso #sergeant keroro #sgt keroro #sgt frog #tamama #shion #keroro movies #keroro movie 4 #dragon warriors #translations #novelisations #deleted scenes #the “sng” I feel needs a slight explanation #In Japanese the main part of song and sing use the same kanji #Here it was just the kanji with nothing to clarify if it was the verb or noun #so I removed the vowel that differentiates the two in English

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timeofjuly · 6 months

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Trick or Heat

Summary: You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus. It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar was purchased. You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Sans' first heat with you happens to fall on Halloween. Missing out on trick-or-treating, you find, is a worthwhile trade-off.

Notes: Merry Halloween lmao here's 5k of horrortale sans/reader porn with feelings

Tags: NSFW!!!! Smut with feelings, heat cycles, established relationship, fluff, oral sex, unrealistically enjoyable shower sex, face-sitting, multiple orgasms, size kink, reader has a vagina.

Read it on AO3 or read it below the cut!

Before moving in with your boyfriend and his brother, you didn’t use a physical calendar. You never felt the need to; your phone kept track of your various appointments and commitments and why bother pencilling in haircut at 11am when you’d get a reminder text from the salon the day before anyway?

That fast-and-loose attitude served you well when you were single, but these days, a calendar sits smack-dab in the middle of your fridge. Sans’ occupational therapist had been the one to suggest it; she’d rightly pointed out that leaving sticky notes for himself around the house isn’t a very effective memory aid, considering that he’s prone to forgetting about the notes themselves.

Sans had been less resistant to the idea than he’d been to the other mnemonics the OT had suggested, and so the refrigerator calendar had gone up. It wouldn’t be out of place in the home of a WASP mom of four; Live, Laugh, Love is proudly proclaimed in flowy script at the top of each page and the image for each month is themed in accordance of whatever holiday happens to fall in it. For March, there’d been a picture of a rabbit surrounded by colourful eggs with ‘Hoppy Easter, every bunny!’ written beneath it. For October, there’s a scowling cartoon woman, broomstick in tow, with a speech bubble saying, ‘this is my resting witch face’.

Sans, obviously, had been the one to pick it out. You’ve peeked ahead and you’re looking forward to watching him flip it over onto November tomorrow; the Thanksgiving-themed ‘Thankful, blessed, and mashed potato obsessed!’ spread will undoubtedly give him a laugh.

First, though, you need to get through tonight.

You’re not nervous, exactly, but what you’re feeling is too sharp to purely be called anticipation. The feeling flutters against your sternum, a lightness that sets your heart ticking just a little faster than normal.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you and trying to get a little work done before you’re pulled away for the evening, but you’ve written and rewritten the same sentence six times now, and each rephrasing is clumsier than the last. You just can’t focus.

It’s like first date jitters, maybe, if the first date in question involved an hours-long, magically fuelled sex-fest that’s been scribbled in underneath October 31st ever since the calendar had been purchased.

There are four things written underneath that date. The first, in your handwriting, is Halloween! and the second, also in your handwriting, is pay power bill (shit, you better do that now).

The third, in Papyrus’ handwriting and taking up almost all of the room, is PAPYRUS’ SPECTACULAR HALLOWEEN EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

Then, written at the bottom, so small that your eyes strain to read it, is heat.

You feel hot (ha) at the very thought of it. Whether it’s a sexy hot or a nervous, sweaty hot remains to be seen.

Either way, you feel like a virgin on prom night. All of the monsters in your life – even Papyrus, mortifyingly, who is the last person you want to talk to about your sex life – has assured you that you’ve got nothing to worry about, and you’re not, not really, save some lingering concerns about your stamina and your ability to walk tomorrow.

This is just new and new things are inherently a little scary, but you’re not going to let your irrational fear of failure ruin this for you. Not today, insecurities, not today.

Papyrus left for the Halloween festivities over an hour ago and Sans is napping on the living room couch – apparently tonight’ll take a lot out of him and it’s normal for monsters to sleep more than usual in the days preceding and following a heat. For Sans, who already dozes off at the drop of a hat, this means that this is his third nap of the day.

You close your laptop with a sigh, giving up the pretence of actually getting any work done. No point bullshitting yourself for any longer.

You decide that you’re going to have a long, hot shower. There’s some personal grooming you want to do before Sans wakes up and you’ve got lingerie that you purchased for this specific occasion to change into. You don’t normally bother with frills like that - neither of you are particularly fancy people – but you feel like you should make this special.

Sans is still asleep when you creep through the living room to get to your shared bedroom, sprawled adorably across the couch. A little line of drool leaks from his slightly open mouth and the sight of it makes your chest feel all warm and soupy.

God, he’s so cute. You love seeing him like this, so unguarded and peaceful and soft.

Once in your ensuite, you strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. You test the temperature of the water with your palm. Steam is billowing in soft sheets from the water by the time that you deem it to be an acceptable heat.

You step into the shower, sighing as the heat cascades over your head. Your hair sticks in wet tendrils to your face and neck. You hope that you can get it dry before your boyfriend wakes up.

Washing your hair is always a pain, but at least it gives you something hands-on to do to distract you from the tension slowly curling in your belly.

You and Sans have had dozens of conversations about today. In the beginning, he hadn’t wanted you to be here at all, worried that he’d be too rough with you. You’d scoffed at that, certain that he’d never hurt you, even by accident, and you still stand by that sentiment but after he’d explained this heat business to you properly, you’d understood his concerns.

It still feels like a strange term to use: heat. Too animalistic. Too wild.

Neither of those words are ones you’d use to describe Sans. He’s always so careful with you, so cautious. So afraid of hurting you, or even scaring you. Even in the throes of passion, he always has a firm leash on himself, no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

The idea of him, uninhibited, unrestrained –

You press your thighs together. Shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself.

Sans has explained the biological side of it to you a few times, but so much of the explanation had ultimately boiled down to it’s just magic, babe, so you’re still not sure that you entirely get it.

You have the basics down pat, you think; some monsters go into heat roughly once every twelve months.

Why some monsters and why every twelve months, you have no idea. The fact is that Sans ticks the first box and it’s been the allotted time. Even without checking the date he can tell, apparently, when a heat is coming; his already sharp senses have grown even keener over the past week and of course there’s the sleeping. There’s been some other stuff, too; he’s been all over you for the past week, even more so than usual, bringing you blankets and food and drinks. Making sure that you’re happy and comfortable. It’s been really nice, but he’s bashful about it, so you’ve done your best to not make a big deal about it.

Thank stars you managed to convince him to let you stick around for it. It had taken a lot of cajoling and promises that you’d leave if you so much as felt uncomfortable, but you’d done it.

The only downside is that you’re missing Halloween, but whatever. You can gorge yourself on candy any day of the year. The kind of ravaging you’re expecting is well worth that sacrifice.

You finish scrubbing shampoo into the roots of your hair, your head haloed in suds. You’ve washed the rest of your body in the time that you let the shampoo sit on your head and it’s well and truly time to wash it out. You turn the cold water tap a bit higher to temper the water a little and then close your eyes and duck your head beneath the spray.

The water feels lovely against your face, soothing the tension between your brows. Eyes still closed, you bring your hands up to your head and begin rinsing the suds from your hair, going section by section to make sure nothing stays soapy. The sounds of the shower fill your ears, raining down on your senses.

Hard phalanges scrape against your waist from behind and you gasp, eyes flying open. You’re immediately assailed by a blast of water directly to the face, a little going into your mouth but most of it mixing with the shampoo and flowing into your eyes.

“Fuck!” you hiss, vision gone blurry. The hands immediately fall from your sides.

You grope forward blindly, searching for the towel you’d slung over the shower door. The soft fabric meets your fingertips and you drag it towards you, wiping your stinging eyes.

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” a deep voice chants into your ear and the words are familiar, but the tone isn’t, filled with a new urgency. “you okay? didn’t mean to scare ya’.”

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, feeling awful at how torn-up about it he sounds. “It’s just soap.”

“sorry,” Sans repeats. “thought you would’ve heard the door open.”

You blink a few times until your vision clears. “Nah, I was totally spaced out.” You throw the towel back over the shower door and turn around to face him.

Sans is completely naked, the majority of the space in the large shower taken up by his bulk. How the fuck he manages to move so quietly, you’ll never understand. It probably doesn’t speak well to your situational awareness that he managed to just sneak into the shower without you realising, but that’s a worry for another time.

He’s looking at you with a concern that makes your chest hurt, his single eyelight unusually fuzzy and scanning your expression for pain or panic. There’s none to be found, of course, but you’re sure that the shampoo’s made your eyes a little red, which might be giving the wrong impression.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching up to press your hand against his skull. He’s warm to the touch, even to your shower-flushed skin. “Everything alright with you?”

He doesn’t reply verbally, but he leans into your palm with a sigh and some of the tension fades. You let him nuzzle into your hand for a moment, enjoying the intimacy, but then you remember that you’ve got half-rinsed shampoo in your hair that you need to finish washing out; it’ll make your hair go dry if you leave it sitting for too long.

“I’ve got to finish rinsing this out,” you explain, gesturing at your sudsy head.

“can i do it?” he asks you, hands fluttering towards you. “i wanna do something for you. i wanna take care of you.”

Aw, that’s sweet. You’ve showered together before, of course, but Sans has never offered to wash your hair for you. For a moment, you wonder what’s prompted the offer, but his hands drop back to his sides – you must’ve taken too long to answer – and your eyes follow them down and land on –

Oh. Yes. Right. The heat.

Well, that makes more sense. It’s clearly started. No wonder he’s climbed into the shower with you in the nude. Hell, no wonder he wants to wash your hair; he’d warned you that he might be a little more demonstratively affectionate and attentive.

Your gaze lingers on the slate-blue erection straining towards you for only a second before it shoots back up to his face. The same blue colour lightly stains his zygomatic arches.

“Sure,” you say, voice gone a little husky. “Hold on, I’ll turn back around.”

You step back under the spray and spin around, your backside to Sans, and tip your head back so your hair is under the cascade of the showerhead, but your face stays somewhat dry.

“Go for it,” you say over the sound of the water.

Heat prickles across your scalp when sharp phalanges slip into your hair. You hum, staticky pleasure flowing from your head and down your neck. You let your eyes flutter closed. The pressure and lack of give in Sans’ bony fingers make him great at giving head massages.

He must step a little closer, because something hot and hard bumps against the small of your back. You shiver, goosebumps tingling across your skin.

It’s difficult not to relax completely into the head massage, but as nice as it feels, you realise that all of the shampoo isn’t actually being washed away. No wonder: it’s not like Sans has any hair to wash and you can’t imagine that he’d have done this for anyone else before.

“You’ve got to part it a little to get all the soap out,” you say. You tip your head a little further back and to the side to demonstrate, letting the water wash away another pocket of shampoo.

His fingers comb through your hair and then begin to wash a little more rigorously, going section-by-section. “don’t worry, babe, i’ll do a sud-sational job.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m rooting for you.”

The remaining shampoo is soon washed away, but Sans continues with his ministrations to your scalp with one hand. The other hand drops to your hip, where he rubs little circles with his thumb into the slick flesh. You cant your hips back towards him, pressing his cock more firmly against your lower back.

The hand at your hip tightens, sending a thrill shivering through you. His hand is so big that you can feel the tips of his phalanges digging in close to where your thigh joins your pubic mound, whilst the base of his hand rests on the outer curve of your ass. The reminder of how big he is compared to you – fuck, it always gets you going.

Looks like your hair is going unconditioned today. Ah well; you’ll use a hair mask tomorrow to make up for it. You have far more pressing issues at hand.

You step back through the water – keeping your eyes firmly shut – and into Sans’ embrace, his hand dropping from your hair to curl around your torso. It wraps around your chest and settles on the curve of your breast, his fingers toying with your nipple. You can feel his cock throbbing against your back, so hard, especially considering that neither of you have touched it yet.

“This heat thing is no joke, huh?” you say.

His fingers pause on your breast – you and your big mouth. “nope. are you sure that you’re okay with this? i can stop-.”

“Absolutely, one million percent sure,” you say firmly. “Never been surer of anything in my life. I want this.”

“yeah?” his voice has gone a little shivery. You much prefer this to the worried, hesitant tone of before. “yeah, you want this? want me to make you feel good?”

The hand at your hip dips a little lower, brushing at the cleft of your pussy. It reminds you of how very badly you want to be touched there.

“Yes, please,” you say and because you know that it gets him every time you use his name, you continue, “please touch me, Sans.”

You hear him exhale shakily and then blessedly, finally, his hand slips between your thighs. You groan, head tipping back to rest against his sternum. His phalanges trace along your outer labia, using your wetness to glide against the sensitive skin, before moving inwards to slowly circle your clit.

“i'll take good care of you, i promise,” he mutters against your ear. “spread your legs a little for me, babe, that’s it.”

The words send heat spiralling in your core and pull your muscles tight. It normally takes loads of foreplay to get Sans talking like that, voice pitched even deeper with need, and even more to for him to take the lead like this.

You hurry to spread your legs, glad for his arms around you to keep you from slipping on the shower tile.

He uses the extra room between your thighs to play with your clit a little more firmly, touching you exactly the way you like. Even over the roar of the shower – which you should really turn off, neither of you are really underneath the showerhead and water isn’t cheap – you can hear how wet you are, hear how his fingers slip against you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you sigh, feeling him gently slip a finger inside of you to gently press against your g-spot.

Your eyes had been closed but you force them open now. You want to watch.

You look down the plain of your body, taking in the hand cupping your breast, the other between your thighs. His hands look huge between your legs, bones thick and long, pleasantly textured against your skin.

“say it again,” he urges you, hands speeding up. “tell me how good i make you feel.”

“So good,” you gasp, feeling the heat tighten in your belly. “So fucking good. Please don’t stop, oh my god.”

Another finger is slid inside of you and they both tap in tandem against your g-spot whilst his thumb rubs tight circles against your clit and it only takes a few moments for the dual stimulation to build into a crescendo. You let out a strangled moan as you come, feeling yourself tremble around his fingers and letting your head thud back against his sternum.

Sans groans against the top of your head and you feel his cock pulse against your back, warmth seeping into your skin.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath and trust that your legs aren’t about to collapse underneath you.

“I like this heat thing,” you breath.

Sans huffs out a laugh behind you. “aw, you tuckered out already? told ya you should’ve napped with me before.”

You turn around to face him, pulling faux indignation to your face. “Hey, don’t count me out yet. It’ll take more than one orgasm to wear me out.”

His browbone quirks, an expression you see on him so rarely, and sweet affection rushes into your chest, overlapping with the lingering buzz of your orgasm. God, you love him so much.

“is that a challenge?” he says.

You get the feeling that you might be biting off a little more than you can chew, but you’re not backing down now. “Sure is, baby. I’ve got stamina for days. I wanna touch you first, though. I owe you one.”

His smirk gives way to bashfulness. “i – uh, no you don’t, babe. we’re both one-for-one.”

“What do you mean? I haven’t even -.” You pause, remembering how he’d ground against you as you’d come. You twist your head back to see if any evidence remains on your back, but you’ve been standing under the water, so there’s nothing, but Sans’ face says it all.

“… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” you say. “Bed now, please and thank you.”

The water is hastily switched off – Papyrus is going to flip his lid when he sees the water bill for October – and then you’re shrieking with delight as Sans lifts you clear off your feet and into his arms. You blink and then you’re being gently deposited into the soft sheets of your bed, still completely soaked.

Sans looms over you, knees caging your hips with his arms bracketed around your shoulders. His single eyelight huge and fuzzy. It’s trained on your face, unmoving. His ribcage heaves. Something crackles in the air around you, so palpable that even you, human and magic-less as you are, can feel it dancing across your skin.

“I think that takes the record for the shortest shortcut to date, lazybones,” you say breathlessly.

You’re expecting a clever quip in return, or perhaps a joke or a particularly horrific pun, but he just sucks in a low, unsteady breath, eyelight moving down from your face to laze down the length of your body. You can’t help it: you squirm under his discerning gaze. Your heart is racing, beating a frantic staccato beat against your ribcage and even though your skin is wet and rapidly cooling, you feel hot.

“See something you like?” You’re trying for coy and cocky, but it comes out a little strangled.

“fuck yeah,” he breathes, and then his mouth crashes onto yours.

The kiss is intense, but not as urgent as you’d expected it to be. If anything, you’re the one moving things along, wrapping your arms around his clavicles and hooking your leg around his pelvis to draw him closer. That’s one thing you’ve always loved about sex with Sans; everything is deliberate and considered, never hurried, never rushed. Apparently even heat can’t speed him up.

His tongue licks a wet stripe up the column of your throat, making you hiss. His breath comes out in hot pants against your neck and his teeth just barely scrape against your skin.

“I want to -,” you start, sliding a hand between your bodies to find his cock.

Your wrist is caught in a bony grip before you can reach far enough, and your hand is pinned above your head. His face is still buried in your chest, laving wet kisses against your collarbones and between your breasts and you can hear him mumbling, you think, whispering something against your skin.

You give a cursory tug at your wrist – you’re not interested in breaking free because this is way too fucking hot, but you want to see the reaction the token resistance gets.

Sans fucking growls against your skin and holy shit, you need him to touch you, right now.

He pulls away from your neck, leaving your chest heaving.

“sit up,” he says. “wanna eat that fucking pussy.”

Sounds good to you!

You rush to sit. You’re a little confused when he lies down in the place you just vacated but then you squeal as Sans grasps your thighs and uses his hold to abruptly flip you around and then up, towards the pillows, towards his face, hauling one of your knees over his head.

Off balance, you curl forward and brace your hands on his iliac crests, chest heaving. It’s a struggle to stay upright.

Your hips ache with the delicious stretch, knees planted firmly on either side of his skull. His phalanges dig into your ass, guiding you to press more firmly against him. You try to pull yourself a little higher to give the poor guy some breathing room but he just tugs you down even more and, to your delighted surprise, actually gives your ass a little slap.

It's barely a slap at all, really, all sound and no sting, but coming from your normally shy boyfriend, it sends new pleasure throbbing through you.

Okay, then; if he wants you to ride his face, then you’re going to ride his fucking face.

You roll your hips against him, feeling the soft slickness of his tongue and the unyielding press of bone against your sensitive flesh. You’re tentative at first, but his hands start moving in tandem with your undulations, urging you on, so you take that as a green light to speed things up.

It feels so fucking good. The wet slide of your pussy against his mouth, the way his tongue follows your motions to stimulate your clit. Your thighs tremble around his head.

God, you must be making a fucking mess of his face and just picturing it makes you clench.

You can feel your second orgasm gradually building, waves of heat pulsing in time with your hips. Then you’d be two to one, you realise. Pretty unfair, considering that he’s the one with the raging biological (magical?) need to fuck.

You’re loathe to move from your position on his face, though, so you’re gonna have to get creative.

He’s too tall for you to reach his cock with your mouth – you love the size difference ninety-nine percent of the time, but it makes certain positions impossible – but luckily, you’ve got two perfectly good hands.

He grunts against your pussy when you wrap your hand around his cock, the other still gripping his hipbone to keep yourself upright. It’s so hard, twitching in your grip, and when you trace a single finger up the underside, it drips with a bead of precum.

Trying to time your strokes with the rhythm of your hips, you touch him the way you know he likes best; slow, firm motions, lingering at the head. You’d normally use two hands for this, but you don’t trust yourself to stay seated with your core strength alone.

He seems to be enjoying himself just fine anyway; even muffled through your body, you can hear his grunts and moans. The sounds and the feel of him in your hand barrel you closer to orgasm, heat pulling tight in your belly. You’re still a little sensitive from your first orgasm but with you controlling the pace, the extra sensation only makes it better.

A particularly firm slide of his tongue against your clit pushes you over the edge and you come with a cry, grinding down onto his mouth.

You’re shaking as you slide off of his face, rolling to the side to burry your face into the pillows. Your thighs slide wetly against each other and the whole of you is singing with pleasure.

You crane your neck to look back at Sans, but he’s already grabbing your hips and hauling them upwards and backwards towards him, your ass high in the air and your face buried deep into the pillows.

You go to pull yourself up onto your elbows but then you feel his fingers carding through the sweaty hair at the back of your neck, the base of his hand ghosting along the top of your spine. It’s only the tiniest suggestion of pressure, but you get the message all the time.

You let your elbows collapse underneath you and fall back onto the bed.

A wet, toothy kiss is pressed to your hip. “so good for me,” he says.

You moan something insensible into the pillows and spread your legs a little wider. A huge hand presses between them, spreading your wetness along your thighs. Everything feels oversensitive and tingly; you’re not sure if you’ll be able to come again quickly, but you’re excited to find out.

The blunt head of his cock bumps up against your pussy, glancing away from your entrance. It rubs along your clit, slow and lazy and so fucking huge.

It can fit inside of you – mostly, anyway - but it takes hours of careful prep-work and rivers of lube good quality silicone lube, and as relaxed and ready as you’re feeling right now, trying for penetrative sex without some dedicated stretching is just a bad idea.

You press your thighs together, wedging his cock between them. The base of it is hot against your clit and the head nudges at your lower belly. His hands grip your ass and slowly, he begins moving.

The slick grind against your clit is just enough to make new arousal spiral through you. You press yourself back against him as much as you’re able – not a whole lot you can do with just your ass in the air – but you’re soon lost to the sensations.

“fuck, babe, you feel so good,” he says, hands tight around your hips. “so fuckin’ good.”

Your response is lost to the pillows. You’re drooling, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

He starts to speed up and you press your thighs together even tighter, increasing the friction on your clit. You feel – you feel fucking wild, out of control, lost to the incomprehensible magic thrumming through the air. God, you can’t believe that you were nervous about this, that you were worried that you’d fuck it up. This is perfect.

A hand grips your shoulder and tugs you upwards – you’re loving all the manhandling tonight – and you pull your hands beneath you, leaving you on all fours. Sans curls over you, ribcage pressed to your back and skull pressed to the side of your neck.

“love you, so much,” he rasps, scraping his teeth down your neck. “you’re all mine, aren’t’cha? tell me.”

“I’m all yours,” you agree. You decide to risk losing your balance and snake your hand down to touch him. “Want you to come for me, baby, make me yours.”

The combination of your words and touch makes him cry out. He throbs in your hand and thrusts harder. Such indirect stimulation wouldn’t normally be enough to get you off, but you’re so turned on that you careen over the edge anyway, tired muscles clenching around nothing. It’s the softest orgasm of the night, the least intense, but no less satisfying for it. You feel him coming too, spilling on your hand and belly.

When the orgasm fades away, it leaves bone-deep exhaustion in its wake. Your arms collapse underneath you and your bottom half soon follows suit, your shaking thighs failing to hold up your weight.

“need a break?” he asks you. You can hear the amusement in his voice and as annoyed as you are to prove him right, it makes you so happy to hear him sound so happy.

You groan in response. Speech is beyond your capacity.

It takes you a second, but eventually you unearth your face from the pillows to look at him with bleary eyes. Part of you wants to insist that you’re good to keep going, to push through the overstimulation, but your bits are starting to go numb.

“Maybe just a little one,” you concede. You roll over onto your back to face him, careful to avoid the wet patch.

He looks so pleased with himself. So satisfied.

Warm fondness unspools in your belly, bringing a flush to your cheeks that has nothing to do with physical exertion. You’re so fucking lucky.

“what’s that look for?” he asks you, tilting his head the way he always does when he’s trying to work you out and fuck, how can one person be this cute?

You resist the urge to grab him by the zygomatic arches to smoosh his face between your hands, but it’s a near thing.

“I just love you a lot,” you say. You look back down at his pelvis; no dick. Satiated for now, apparently. “Wanna have a quick nap before the next round?”

“stars, you’re perfect,” he mutters, making you grin.

“Yeah, I’m the best,” you agree. “C’mere, lazybones.”

He curls up next to you and you snuggle against his side. It’s always a bit of challenge to navigate your soft, fleshy bits with his sharp, pointy ones, but you make it work. He lets out a contented sigh as you settle in his arms, your legs thrown over his femurs.

You doze for a few minutes, soothed by the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your head.

“sorry that you’re missing Halloween,” he says. “could’ve bagged some good candy.”

“I’d take staying in with you over squeezing myself into some Party City costume to totter around the city in this freezing weather any day. Trick-or-treating is overrated,” you say. “And I’m sure Paps’ll be happy to share.”

Sans hums. “hope he brings back some of those hershey’s things.”

“Kisses, you mean?”

“well, if you’re offering.”

You sigh into his clavicle. “That was one a stretch, even for you.”

But you press a quick kiss to his teeth all the same.

Sleep tugs at your eyelids; loathe as you are to concede defeat, you really are tuckered out. The bed is so comfortable and warm - the company’s not too bad either - and the room is perfectly dark, save the gentle shine of the glow-in-the-dark stars Sans has stuck to the roof.

“Shit.” You sit up. “Fuck, I forgot!”

“what’s wrong?” His voice is a little groggy.

“I forgot to pay the power bill.” You’re going to have to get up - and put clothes on, horror of all horrors - and go into the cold kitchen to get your laptop. “Urgh, sorry, I’ve got do it, otherwise they’ll hit us with a late fee.”

Sans tugs at your arm. “relax, babe, i already did it.”

You pause your attempts to wiggle out of his grip. “What?”

“i already paid it,” he explains. “saw that it was on the calendar. you can chill.”

“Oh, thank you, calendar,” you say.

“hey, what about me? do you doubt my cents of responsibility?”

“Thank you to you too, then. I really don’t want to get up,” you say, settling back down next to him and curving your body into his.

He huffs a laugh against the top of your head. “good, ‘cause ‘m not letting you outta this bed for the foreseeable future.”

You can only muster up a yawn in response. That sounds perfect to you.

#horrortale sans/reader #horrortale sans x reader #smut #truly a grab bag of my kinks #it’s not Halloween for me anymore but shhhh #I also wrote this in two days so if there’s mistakes or the pacing sucks also shhhh

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champagneher · 2 years

Text

❝𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒔❞ —𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠

pairing: kim taehyung x reader

based on: reader is in paris and taehyung's an incredible supportive lover.

genre: drabble, fluff, idol au.

warnings: making out, little suggestive, cursing and tae just giving boyfriend material vibes.

a/n: so... i'm back with this little drabble. hope you enjoy it and you can always send your request! lots of love. :) please go easy on me, english is not my native language. so, i apologize for any mistakes and please let me know!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Paris never looked better in your opinion. The night was falling, the stars were beginning to shine in the sky while the young people went out to have fun with their friends on this summery Friday. You weren't far behind, you had your fresh nails, your long eyelashes, your hair recently dyed a light honey brown that contrasted the colour of your skin perfectly, and of course, it was combed in a perfect bun.

You hugged your light shirt closer to your body while you watched the big city from the balcony of your -temporary- home that offered a spectacular view of the greatest attraction the city could offer you, the Eiffel Tower.

You looked at the time on your phone when it lit up with the incoming message.

Tae: I hope Paris is treating you as you deserve.

You smiled.

Me: Of course it is. It always has.

Tae: I miss Paris Me: You should come visit Paris Me: And me, of course Tae: Obviously. Why else would I go to Paris for? Tae: Oh wait Tae: There may be another reason. A good reason Me: Oh yeah?

Tae: Yeah

Me: Care to tell me?

Tae: There is this ballet dancer, who dances beautifully Me: A ballerina who dances? Me: I'm a little surprised that you like ballet. Who would have thought Tae: You're annoying. Tae: But yes. Actually, I like everything about this girl. Hopefully, I can see her soon. I met her in a café when she spilled all her coffee on my white pants and Gucci shoes Me: That's tragic

Tae: No, not at all. I got to know her and since then we have been very close. Very

Tae: I love to fuck her Me: Okay I have to go now Tae: 😊 Tae: Rehearsals? Tae: What time do you go on stage?

Me: In about two hours, 9pm, so I have to run to the theatre and keep rehearsing Tae: Hope everything goes well. I know you'll dance amazing as always just don't be too surprised

Me: Why would I be surprised? Haha Me: Talk later?

Tae: Of course baby, see you soon xx

You shook your head slightly, smiling as you locked the screen of your phone and then turned to take one last look at the incredible view from the balcony.

You could get used to this, you thought. But you missed your life in Korea. Life there as a foreigner could be incredibly difficult in time to time, but you had also built relationships with incredible people and appreciated every beautiful moment lived. You also couldn't deny that you enjoyed it more because it's where one of your favourite people was.

How you met Taehyung was definitely embarrassing, but at the same time you were grateful because otherwise you wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing from everything you felt for him. He was annoying and charming at the same time. You had never been in love, and you didn't want to be either because of your career that demanded a lot of your time. Shit. Tae's was even more demanding, you never imagined that you could be head over heels for an idol who could make you laugh until you cry in a moment and then fuck you until oblivion in the other.

You didn't have a title. You weren't officially a couple, but it was no surprise to his and your circle that you both did almost everything together. Not only that, but you could be in each other's company all day and still yearn for more time together. It was reciprocal and pure. You had met someone with whom you couldn't say a word and still feel comfortable.

Tae loved every second shared with you, he had met the person who understood him and put herself in his place without the need to ask. You both had busy schedules, which worried him a lot when he realized that he couldn't spend much time away from you, but that stopped thanks to the fact that you worked to continue sharing moments without feeling forced.

He introduced you as his, and you introduced him as yours. Still, the little pinch in your stomach that said he would never make anything official was still there, bothering you day by day. And not to mention when the opportunity to dance in one of the most prestigious theatres in Europe presented itself to you, and you made the decision -which was very hard- to go to France for 5 months to be part of one of your biggest dreams. It was a unique opportunity and although Taehyung supported you in your decision and was every step of the way here, it was difficult. For almost eight months you had not spent more than two days away from each other, and now you were separated by hours and hours of distance.

4 and a half months passed, the end of your contract was approaching, and it was bittersweet. Bitter that your moments on this stage with your new friends would end, but sweet that you would be coming home to him. You also loved every second lived here. Although it was difficult, and it wasn't necessary, it must be emphasized, you were always faithful to Taehyung. Your heart belonged to him.

You were about to return to the stage for the finale when one of your new friends walked up to you with a full smile and sparkling eyes.

"I'm about to pass out," she whispered, half screaming. She took your arm in her hands and shook it slightly.

"What's happening?" You laughed, seeing her unable to stay still because of the small movements and tiny dances she made with her body.

"You little shit, someone came to see you and I think if you don't make him yours, I'm going to steal him." She raised one of her eyebrows. She watched you look at her confused and frowning, she dragged you towards one of the panels to sneak a bit and get the public view.

"What the fuck-"

"____! You're going in 60 seconds."

"Oh, go, go," your friend pushed you back into line to go on stage.

In all the time you were out there you hadn't seen him, you weren't one to watch the public either but shit if you hadn't stood still for a few seconds after seeing him there, sitting in the third row carefully observing the performance.

Butterflies burst in your stomach and your nerves went over the top. You took a deep breath to come back to yourself and keep giving your best out there, even more so because Taehyung was there. You were happy.

You were dragged into a more private part of the place by a bodyguard, and there was no doubt it was to see Tae. The audience had gone a little crazy when they realized that one of the BTS members was present in the among them, making the exit a bit difficult, but the happiness of the dancers and the entire crew was amazing. They were all talking to each other and congratulating each other on attracting one of the biggest celebrities of the world to see them.

"I can't believe this," you managed to let out a laugh before being wrapped in a pair of arms, causing you to crash into his chest and choke your words on her neck. "What are you doing here?" It was your turn to wrap your arms around his waist closing your eyes to better breathe his perfume.

"Missed you so much," he murmured with his eyes closed. It was no secret that Taehyung was really sentimental, and when he loved, he loved hard. "You were amazing," he smiled with a heart, showing his teeth, pulling away from you a bit to look into your eyes, taking your face in his hands, your arms still around his waist.

"You think?" You asked timidly with hope in your voice.

"I don't think," he kissed yours lips softly and quickly. "I know."

Your smile grew even larger and heat consumed your face. Still you looked around you to confirm no one saw you both share tha sweet kiss. You knew it could burn the whole world if people knew Taehyung came all the way to Paris to see you.

"You're crazy," you laughed out of breath, that man really took your breath away the moment your eyes met.

"For you," he mumbled, "what about we leave and go to dinner?"

"Dinner in Paris? Sounds fancy," you started to walk away from the crowd trying to get a glimpse of Tae, but thank god, they couldn't even see him and more importantly, you. Luckily you had already changed into your jeans moments before leaving in search of Tae. You didn't want to draw anyone's attention to what you got for throwing on a black hoodie and your flats. Although your makeup and hairstyle were still intact. The bodyguards followed you as you led them out to a more discreet place where no one could disturb you.

The stars were shining in the sky above you, the wind moving your hair in a light and not overwhelming way. The sound of the living city was heard slightly below you, away from the hotel balcony where you were.

Taehyung had taken off his suit vest as well as his tie, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few loose buttons to his chest. His curls were messy from the strokes of his hand. You, on the other hand, had the opportunity to change into a light white dress of a light and shiny fabric, accompanied by small heels of the same colour as your dress, courtesy of Taehyung who had thought that you would not have enough time to change later of the show. It was lucky for you, he had taken you to a beautiful and elegant private restaurant, and you knew that without the change of clothes you would have been very out of place. You were grateful, you had a beautiful new Gucci dress, you had delicious food for dinner, and now you found yourself looking down on the city with the man your heart so dearly loved.

"Beautiful…" Taehyung mumbled resting his elbows on the concrete railings as he watched you not so discreetly, though you didn't notice. "Right? This city never ceases to amaze me," you smiled as it was your turn now to watch him. "Well, I wasn't exactly talking about the city, but yes… it's also beautiful." His left arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him. Damn, if your heart didn't want to come out of your chest. With all the control you could have of your body you brought your right hand to his lower back and rested your chin on his shoulder. "Thank you for tonight, it really was perfect."

Taehyung gently cupped your face in his hands leaning back slightly to get a better look at you. It was a lot for you so you couldn't help lowering your eyes to avoid feeling that your soul wanted to leave your body for the moment you were living. "Please look at me," he requested in a low voice, almost a whisper. With your lips slightly parted you raised your gaze to connect with his again, this time feeling an extreme calm that you didn't know if you had known before. His eyes the purest and deepest brown you've ever seen, his flawless skin and his crimson lips. "Would you be mine?" His words left his lips as soft and slow as only he knew how. Your eyebrows rose in surprise, your smile appeared without your control. Was he really asking you to make it official to be a couple? Did he really want to be yours? "What?" you laughed under your breath.

"I said, ____, would you be mine? Please?" His eyes full of hope seemed to reflect the stars in the sky, his hands trembled slightly and he felt a tingling go up and down his spine. He was about to lose him if you didn't say you wanted what he wanted. He longed to be able to share those small moments full of intimacy that only a couple could share, he wanted to tell his friends that he couldn't make it because he already had plans with his girlfriend, he wanted to politely reject other people because he was already taken, he already had a girlfriend whom he madly loved. He wanted to apologize for being late because time got out of his hands for being with you, or arriving at his parents' house with your hand in his ready to introduce you as his girlfriend and partner. He wanted all of that and more.

"Do you really want to be mine, Tae?" You murmured still feeling on a cloud high in the sky but afraid that everything would be a joke.

"Am I not obvious enough, ____? You are the one I flew across the world for just so I could hold you in my arms. And what more romantic place to ask you to be my girlfriend than Paris. The city of love can now be ours… so what do you say?"

"I say you're crazy," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers gently stroking the hairs on his head as you gazed at him lovingly, "and I'd love to be yours on the condition that you're mine too."

"I would want nothing more than to be yours, love." With those final words, he connected his lips in a soft and slow kiss that reflected all the emotions that were invading them both at that moment. It had really happened, you were already a couple and ypu could not be more in love.

"We will always have Paris, it will always be ours from now on. Just you and me."

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ahordeofwasps · 4 months

Text

15 Questions Tag

I've been tagged by the spectacular @talesofsorrowandofruin! Thanks for the tag! The purpose of the tag game is to answer 15 questions, either as your OC or as yourself. I'll do this tag for an OC from To Not Falling Off Cliffs! As I already did this tag for Tiffany, I'll do this for either Erika or Steve, as determined by dice roll.

And the dice has decided on... Steve!

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @space-writes, @kaiusvnoir, @red-pen-ally, @sam-glade, and open tag!

Now, onto an interview with Steve!

It's Thursday at the Seventh Eye, which means only one thing: Pub Quiz Night. During quiz night, teams ruthlessly compete for the ultimate prize: some tacky t-shirts, a round of drinks on the house, and a plastic trophy.

You're part of the trivia team known as the Knowledge Sniffers. It is your first time competing in trivia night and you have won 5th place. Buzzed on both alcohol and of getting half the questions right, you've gotten the idea to interview one person from each of the teams. You jokingly said it was to "get to know the enemy" but you honestly just want to have fun and this is one way to do it.

You're now approaching the table for the Immortal Kittens team. Nearly all of its members seem to be locked in a debate on whether or not fish can fly. All except a reaper in a Hawaiian t-shirt, who instead is leaning back and listening to the conversation. You think he's happy, but it's hard to tell; reapers don't have facial expressions.

You manage to get the reaper's attention and introduce yourself, along with an overly dramatic speech about your "evil plan" complete with a maniacal laugh. This earns a chuckle from the reaper. He introduces himself as Steve and agrees to be interviewed.

You pull out your pre-prepared questions written on three different bar napkins. You commence the interview.

Are you named after anyone?

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. You notice his relaxed composure stiffen a little. "Nah. The man doesn't work like that."

When was the last time you cried?

He relaxes again and points to his empty eye sockets. "Never. Don't have the right equipment."

Do you have kids?

Steve laughs. "Don't have the right equipment for that either. Not allowed to adopt too. Not even baby goats."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

He looks at you, silent for a moment. He has no lips, just a skull, but you get the distinct impression he's grinning. "What do you think?"

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"How they're wearing their mug. 'Suppose it's 'cause I don't have one myself."

What’s your eye colour?

"The same colour as my ferrari."

Scary movies or happy endings?

He thinks for a moment. "Happy endings. Though I suppose a scary movie can have a happy ending. That'd be cool too."

Any special talents?

"Yeah, this!" Steve proceeds to do that hand trick where you pretend you're removing half your thumb from your hand. It's not very impressive and although he's not lying, you get the distinct impression he's holding something back.

Where were you born?

"I was spawned in Byzantion. I think it's called Constantinople now?"

You tell him it's now Istanbul.

"Snaps. That's why we shot in the brown last week. My bad."

What are your hobbies?

He pulls a small digital camera from his pocket. "Shooting people."

You ask him to shoot you and strike the campiest villain pose you can think of. Steve chuckles and takes your photo. "I'll bring a copy next week."

Have you any pets?

"Nah. The man doesn't allow that either."

What sports do you play/have played?

"Got in a duel once. Made a real mess with it. Not a ball at all."

How tall are you?

"Five foot five inches."

Favourite subject in school?

Steve laughs again. "Been playing court-ordered hookey. But, if the man allowed it, it'd probably be art."

Dream job?

He stiffens, but not in the same way as he did when you asked him about his name. You didn't touch a nerve exactly, but you did catch him off guard. Steve leans back and takes a sip from his drink, thinking for a moment.

"Depends on the dream," he murmurs, "In a happy dream, I'd be a photographer, an artist, or even a sculptur. But in a bad dream..." he pauses, "... a lawyer."

With that, you've reached the end of your questions. You thank him for his time and then add a quick quip about how the "Immortal Kittens will meet their match" next week followed by another evil laugh. Steve chuckles again and gives you a polite wave goodbye.

***

Here are the questions for anyone that needs it!

Are you named after anyone?

When was the last time you cried?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

What’s your eye colour?

Scary movies or happy endings?

Any special talents?

Where were you born?

What are your hobbies?

Have you any pets?

What sports do you play/have played?

How tall are you?

Favourite subject in school?

Dream job?

#writing #writeblr #fantasy #urban fantasy #tag game #15 questions #To Not Falling Off Cliffs

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kwockwoc · 3 months

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sunset

thanks @professorhephaestus for sharing these fabulous characters

sunset, 600 words, sfw, eigan/teddy

“Uh –” Eigan, a prince of Mars, second-in-line for the crown, rector-in-training, cleared his throat. “So, uh – do you like it?”

Theodore ‘Teddy’ Knight – not a prince of Mars – hmmed. “The sunset?”

“… yes.”

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Teddy said.

Eigan thought about this.

“No, it’s warm,” Eigan suggested. He hated correcting Teddy, but he was, well – he was wrong.

“Oh, no, when Terrestrials say it’s cool, we mean it’s, uh. Good.”

“So you think it’s good?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Teddy turned his head at that moment, and Eigan found himself turning his own head to return the look.

Teddy was smiling a little, and a few wisps of his hair were stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was slightly blushing, but whether that was from the exertion of climbing to the top of this rocky outcrop, or the warmth of the early evening, or something else, it was entirely impossible to say. Eigan hadn’t learnt much about human blood flow yet.

“Um. So, Eigan – Xavyn said – uh. She said you wanted to ask me up here a few weeks ago, but you didn’t say anything to me until today.”

Oh, starless night. He knew he shouldn’t have asked her about Teddy. It was just like Xavyn to share, or overshare, even if there was no malice in it. It’d been mortifying enough for Eigan asking himself for permission to ask Teddy to come on a walk with him – alone, unchaperoned, without even the wonderful Jenny as a gentle and bespectacled barrier – partway up the flank of Pavonis.

Eigan was hardly an areographer, but he knew the view to Olympus was pretty spectacular from here, the east Tharsian uplands, capitol region of Mars, and of course the Valles Marineris lay just a simple cast of doors away if it transpired that Teddy preferred canyons to mountains.

“Yes, I – I did. Want to ask you, to come here. With me.” Eigan blinked at Teddy, and realised his heart was beating far, far faster than was comfortable. “I wanted you to see this. With me.”

“Is this, like – the greatest place in the solar system, or something?”

“Uh.” Eigan turned the question over in his mind. “I’m… not sure about that.”

“Well, anyhow, I’m sure glad you asked me,” Teddy said, “because yeah, I wanted to see this. With you.”

Eigan nodded. “That’s… good.”

He turned his head again, back, to stare once more at the tallest peak on all inner planets and moons. Olympus Mons, ancient and sacred, magical beyond anyone’s ability to scry or grasp, and the reason that he and Teddy had met. Teddy laughed a little right then, and Eigan felt an unusual warmth in his gut. In the last few moments, the sun had shifted another degree lower relative to the horizon, and a new and gentler shade of red-gold emerged in the dying daylight, richer and softer than any colour Eigan had previously known or suspected to exist.

It’s beautiful.

Without thinking, Eigan let his head shift to the right, where he found Teddy’s shoulder. He let the weight of his head sink a little into the slightly worn sweater Teddy habitually pulled over his rector apprentice’s robe. Not much, just a little, Eigan nuzzled his horns against the textile, abrading it, just a touch. The sweater was a permanent addition to Teddy’s garb, much to Professor Hephaestus’s disgust. But that was just Teddy. It wouldn’t be Teddy’s rector’s robe if not for the sweater, so he didn’t want to ruin it.

Somewhere above Eigan’s locs, Teddy laughed a little, again, just softly and not much, and to Eigan’s surprise the colour of the sunset grew yet richer and warmer, more stunning and interesting than any sunset had ever been.

He closed his eyes. Teddy was right. This was, indeed, the greatest place in the solar system.

#solar trials #solar trials fanfic #eigan/teddy #eigan's just a little guy and he's got big feelings and he's not sure what to do with em #teddy knows exactly what he wants but thinks eigan's light years out of his league #these two #ngozi you genius

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sitp-recs · 1 year

Note

Hi Liv! I just want to let you know that your blog is the only thing getting me through grad school. It's my one moment of solace before going to sleep. Do you know any fics where Draco is some kind of hedonist and introduces Harry to all the luxuries he's been missing so far? I need that in my life!

Oh anon, I’m sorry grad school has been rough! I know I don’t miss those days 😔 very happy to hear the blog offers you comfort and solace. And I love the hedonist!Draco take, I wanna find more fics like that tbh! Here are some great reads that came to mind:

Still Life, orphaned (2019, M, 3k)

Cake by astolat (2016, M, 4.3k)

Harry tried not to care when after the war, everyone he knew seemed to have made an agreement to stop paying attention to birthdays.

Steal/Keep by @shealwaysreads (2021, E, 4.6k)

The stealing was all Hermione’s idea, though Harry still doesn’t think anyone would believe him if he told them.

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

Reparatio by astolat (2016, E, 17k) - maybe not a perfect fit but I couldn’t resist, this fic is brilliant

Draco snorted. “I’m not reduced to penury. I want something considerably beyond money, and I rather think you’re the only one can give it to me.”

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (2019, E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

A Summer in Bordeaux by @zigster-ao3 (2021, E, 28k)

Harry turns. Malfoy leans against the doorway to the back garden under the halo of a gaslamp dangling overhead. The warm glow of the flame casts him in a golden light, and he’s framed on either side by trailing grapevines cascading over the garden walls. So soft, Harry thinks, where the Malfoy in his mind once seemed so sharp.

Shine, Even in the Darkness by raitala (2014, E, 41k)

Harry hasn’t seen Draco for over fifteen years, but now he’s showing up everywhere and Harry is sort of weirdly attracted to him, but that can’t be right?

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo (2021, E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (2015, E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (2022, E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 83k)

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #hedonist Draco spoiling Harry #good food 🥘#sending much love anon!

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yuzukahibiscus · 1 year

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“ENCHANTEMENT” Roundtable Discussion

(A “Roundtable Discussion” is a KAGEKI section magazine, documenting the talk between the director and the actresses about their performances. This time, I’ve translated the Roundtable Discussion of the ongoing current production of “ENCHANTEMENT”. I hope this discussion will allow you to know more about their insights!)

Adaptation/Direction = Noguchi Kousaku

Production = Fujieda Taichi

Actresses = Mikaze Maira, Kaga Ririka, Minami Maito, Yuzuka Rei, Towaki Sea, Hozumi Mahiro, Hoshikaze Madoka, Seino Asuka, Ichinose Kouki, Hoshizora Misaki

(Discussion below the cut, spoilers may follow)

Fujieda: From 2023 January 1 to January 30, Flower Troupe will be performing this revue in the Takarazuka Grand Theatre. Written and directed by Noguchi Kousaku, Takarazuka Spectacular “ENCHANTEMENT – A Luxurious Perfume–”. In French, “ENCHANTEMENT” means “enchantment” or “rapture.” And it is a perfume that captivates the people in this world. With these two meanings as the theme, Yuzuka Rei will lead Flower Troupe to open 2023, inviting you into this glamorous and gorgeous revue world so please look forward to enjoying this magical moment!

Noguchi: In Yuzuka Rei’s stage name, the “Kaori” (香 – meaning scent/fragrance) kanji strikes an impression and from there I can start to imagine and think of creating a revue that has “perfume” as a theme. This performance is also how perfumes are like, comprised of “Top Notes”, “Middle Notes” and Last Notes” and there are various of those characteristics featured. Also, with various kinds of notes as the foundation, this show also includes memorable famous scenes portraying Takarazuka-scented impressions. Before when we were discussing, Yuzuka-san talked about this “power word”. That we hope to deliver this “quality entertainment (performance) to the audience in the Reiwa year reverberating the audiences’ hearts”.

The colourful and vibrant perfumes

Noguchi: First of all, from Chapter 1 to Chapter 4 is the first part of “Top Notes”. Chapter 1 is “ENCHANTEMENT – A Luxurious Perfume – Prologue”. From the music composed by Aoki Tomoko-sensei and choreography arranged by Masaki Rino-sensei, this is a prologue that uses Yuzuka-san’s designed perfume “RAY YUZUKA” as the image. Yuzuka-san plays a perfumer Ray and invites you to an “enchanting night”. When she sprinkles some magic perfume, the world begins to shine in rose-color. Then there would be a two-storey perfume counter which operates like a merry-go-round and then the perfumer and the other performers will open this gorgeous and glamorous revue together. So this is a theme song about my impressions of everyone. Like Minami-san is the “Bewitching Sadistic” who’s sexy and alluring, Hoshikaze-san still has that diva vibe…and continues to sing on the theme song. Later on, Yuzuka-san and Hoshikaze-san share a duet dance and after that they all dance together. It’s like a royal revue with Ziegfeld Follies image.

Yuzuka: As Sensei just said, this show is making us excited in our hearts. But even when we’re just singing in the rehearsals, the song itself is dazzling, and the world view seems to change and transform, simply by listening it is enough to make us hyped up. The costumes have “THE REVUE” kind of style, it is the dream quality (revue). When doing the choreography, it was really fun how everyone thought of how to dance it well and that we’re all working hard for it.

Hoshikaze: I want to quickly experience how the songs and the set would look, and how I could pair along with Yuzuka-san. Even the theme song in the prologue, even if it’s the same song, there’s some changed arrangements, the choreography there…

Yuzuka: It was done by Masaki (Rino)-sensei.

Hoshikaze: Yes, it makes me excited.

Minami: As Sensei explained it, this time I’m looking forward to how the taste of those songs feel and the choreography as well. About the prologue, there were some hints that Sensei noted and I’ll try to practice embodying that “Bewitching Sadistic” vibe.

Mikaze: It’s very rare that there’s this grand opening from the start. I think the prologue also gives people a feeling of celebrating the new year, and we’ll all work to create that ambience together.

Kaga: Sensei combined the Flower Troupe members’ (names) with the perfumes…We’ll do our best as it seems that our personalities can go compatible with the given perfumes in the scenes.

Towaki: Even though Sensei mentioned wanting to let the perfumes be sprayed out from the theatres’ air conditioning with its given theme, that didn’t happen (laughs), we’ll try our best to deliver that atmosphere with the themed scent we are assigned to.

Seino: I’m very happy to sing with Kaga-san in the prologue, who is graduating this time. I think that the Oriental part I’m in has this mysterious vibe.

Hoshizora: The prologue has a wonderful flow. I’ll do my best to make the audience feel like This is superb!

Noguchi: Then in Chapter 2 “CITRUS”, the music composed by Aoki-sensei and the choreography arranged by Mitsui Satoshi-sensei. With the “DOLCE & GABANNA Light Blue” perfume image, we have Citrus Boy Towaki-san, Hozumi-san, Seino-san, Ichinose-san and Yuki (Daiya)-san singing “The beautiful you is like perfume”. Then as long-awaited by many, Kinami Raito-san appears in a daruma style as an otokoyaku…

Everyone: !! (laughs)

Noguchi: This unveils the rockette! Have you five flower boys thought about what name you have for this unit…what’s it going to be?

Towaki: MFG5!

Noguchi: Yes, yes. In the lyrics, we used the english translation of 「清く正しく美しく」which is “Modesty, Fairness and Grace”. (Note: Takawiki offers a literal translation as it to Pure, proper, beautiful). There’s some Takarazuka things about it, and it also serves as an homage to Ziegfeld Follies. We hope to combine the two in this Reiwa era and showcase something contemporary too.

Towaki: The number is a reprise arrangement of what Yuzuka-san in the opening. It’s very cute and stylish so I hope you could really enjoy it.

Seino: It's a wonderful song. Each of us sing a different phrase so I hope we could all show our different characters in it.

Noguchi: Chapter 3 is “AROMANTIC”. From the music composed by Kai Masato-sensei and the choreography arranged by Suzukake Miyuki-sensei, this is based on the “CARON” “POUR UN HOMME” perfume image. Inspired by Paul Verlaine‘s poem “Fêtes galantes”, the setting is a slightly different Paris in the Belle Epoque times in the 19th century. This is a scene portraying young men and women playing in a game of forbidden love in the depths of the Vincennes Woods. Minami-san’s finding her lost lover in the midnight forest. And Seino-san will be playing as an onnayaku (note: Seino Asuka is originally an otokoyaku, playing a male role but she will be playing a woman role in this scene.)

Everyone: Amazing! (cheering)

Noguchi: I used the bolero arranged version of “Pavane pour une infante défunte” by Ravel and the “Suite bergamasque” from Debussy.

Mikaze: Wataru, Haryuu, Itotsuki and I are the chorus singers and we act as the guide to invite you to this alluring forbidden world, a drastic transformation from the start of the scene.

Minami: It’s a wonderful song. It’s a moving song from the start of the dramatic tune so I want to sing it firmly. And I was also pairing up with Seino-san (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Minami: Since the stage was already so gorgeous and mysterious, it was very interesting.

Seino: I had trouble when I started wearing the dress and was learning how to hold the skirt well while dancing. I’ll do my best to make the ambience look graceful.

Noguchi: Then changing from the night of the forest, there’s Chapter 4 “FLORAL”. This is the scene with the “CHANEL” N°5 perfume impression, a musical portraying how the men and women mingle in love in the stage of New York. The music is composed by Teshima Kyouko-sensei and the choreography arranged by Mitsui-sensei. I’ve also asked Lowland Jazz for the recorded performance. What if Fred Astaire and Marilyn Monroe performed together...expanding that imagination, I wanted to create a chic and fancy scene that looked like a show from the time when Ooura Mizuki-san was Top Star. Yuzuka-san plays as that Astaire and when she takes the perfume to her hands, some beautiful girls appear and later on, the scene reveals some perfume-bottled buildings. Hoshikaze-san plays as the Marilyn Monroe girl and she dances a duet dance with Yuzuka-san. Finally, everyone comes together and dance. I’ve used songs from New York-related composers such as George Gershwin’s “Somebody Loves Me”, Rodgers and Hart “Manhattan” and Cole Porter’s “You’re the Top”.

Yuzuka: I’m so grateful to be part of this wonderful scene. I respect Mr Astaire deeply and I learnt various things by watching Flower Troupe’s great senior Ooura Mizuki-san. The opportunity to challenge this scenes makes my heart quaking in rejoice. This is a pure, playful scene that have points I should definitely not overlook so I’ll do my very best in rehearsing this to make the audience feel this was a fantastic scene! I also found it fun that the musumeyaku were a little coquettish and cute. And of course the famous Miss Marilyn has an amazing entrance. Everyone was also shouting and are very hped.

Towaki: It’s hyped, isn’t it?

Yuzuka: With such a splendid entrance, everyone would probably imitate that when they return home (laughs).

Everyone: (laughs).

Hoshikaze: I really want to dance from the bottom of my heart, paying respect to everyone so that I can deliver the wonder of that scene to the audience.

Towaki: I’ll do my best to make this turn out chic and fancy. All of the girls there were cute.

Yuzuka: So, so cute! Please type that in bold (laughs). (Note: Kageki didn’t but I did lol...)

Everyone: (laughs)

Yuzuka: The otokoyaku dance moves are so great.

Towaki: People would probably think this looks hard. Since it’s essential to show something apart from dancing, it’s quite a challenge.

Yuzuka: I have to stand out as the person that’s having fun amongst others who are cohesive in dancing. In order to show that contrast, I discuss with others the way to establish their various personalities precisely and we work our best with it.

Towaki: Yes, please take care of us.

Yuzuka: Let’s work hard!

Hoshikaze: I’ll try to look into how to create that coquettish, adorable vibe and I’m devoting it all in rehearsals, hoping that we’ll all be hyped up when we perform this part.

Yuzuka: Our duet dance was mischievous and it felt like a conversation.

Hoshikaze: That’s right.

Towaki: There seems to be something sparking of chemistry just between the two of you.

Yuzuka: All those shouting, having fun and simple moves... this scene already struck an impression to me from the very start.

Noguchi: Then comes to the second part of “Middle Notes”. Chapter 5 is “Oriental”. The music is composed by Aoki-sensei and the choreography is arranged by Hayama Kiyomi-sensei. This scene was based of the impression from the “YVES SAINT LAURENT OPIUM” exotic perfume impression. First, the Pucchini opera of “Nessun dorma” is arranged such that you could listen to Seino-san, Towaki-san and Minami-san all sing to their different styles. Then continuing on, this is a CHUUZUME comprising of a collab mix from the legendary director Tetsuzō Shirai-sensei, who wrote Chinese famous pieces. Then, Yuzuka-san will sing “The Red Opium”, the theme song of Gu Bijin that is closely related to Flower Troupe (the show Gu Bijin was performed by Flower Troupe twice). Later, Yuzuka-san and Hoshikaze-san dance to a duet dance of “The Song of Love” in “The Emperor and The Witch”. Later everyone dances and invites the audience to participate in the choreography by using the fan that is sold in Quatre Reves. This is a extravaganza Chinese-styled club in the midnight.

Yuzuka: “Gu Bijin” was Minami and my second performance as Flower Troupe members, so I’m very happy to sing that song and dance to the choreography. Since there’s an exotic scent when you smell the “OPIUM” perfume, we hope to deliver this feeling for the audience to imagine this scent. I’m also looking forward to see what kind of duet dance I’d be dancing with Madoka-san (Hoshikaze)

Hoshikaze: How would my duet dance with Yuzuka-san turn out to be…for sure the scenery would feel different instantly and I hope to show a sexy and tempting appearance.

Minami: It’s been a while since we danced to Hayama-sensei’s choreography so I’m nervous and glad at the same time. There’s a task of how to strike a balance with the wonderful arranged tune and the costumes. I hope to dance to the amazing choreography confidently with my body and will do my best in rehearsals to present that.

Towaki: It’s rare that otokoyaku would hold fans but there’s a sexy and mysterious vibe to it so this fantastic scene really makes me excited. This time I have to challenge singing the songs in a scat vibe but I don’t think I’ve been able to do that yet, so I’ll work earnestly for it during the rehearsals.

Seino: I hope to deliver the “OPIUM” scent from singing and combined with Hayama-sensei’s choreography, I want to invite you this kind of world. It’s quite difficult to use a fan well, but I’m excited to see how we’re going to dance with the audience.

Noguchi: The music of Chapter 6 “Woody & Marine” was composed by Oota Takeshi and the choreography by Mitsui-sensei. With the theme of “JO MALONE LONDON”’s “WOOD SAGE & SEA SALT COLOGNE” perfume scent, this is a scene in the Italian seaside where young couples sing about their youth. Hoshizora-san sings a contemporary-arranged “I’ll Tell Me Ma” with the musumeyaku. Towaki-san and other beautiful sailor boys hold the boat oars, singing and dancing to the Irish Song “The Water Is Wide” and “John Ryan’s Polka”, the song that was used in the third-class cabin party scene in the movie “TITANIC”.

Everyone: Wow–!

Towaki: Amongst from the trendy, the forbidden love and other mature scenes, this becomes a lighter scene that’s brighter and more open, bringing a refreshing change to the ambience.

Seino: This is the first time that I’ve received Mitsui-sensei’s choreography in the performances I’ve done so I’m looking forward to dancing Sensei’s amazing choreography in the Grand Theatre.

Noguchi: I thought this would be the scene to show the charms of our young performers.

Towaki, Seino: We’ll do our best.

Noguchi: Then there’s Chapter 7 “Musk”. The music is composed by *Takahashi Megumi* and *SHUN-sensei.* With the image of “Frederic Malle”’s “Musc Ravageur”, this was a mix of songs composed by Cole Porter. Yuzuka-san and Minami-san sing “From This Moment On” with suaveness, going to a midnight club exclusive to male members. The men compete with their sexy aura, going in a dance patrol that is full of wild, sexy and dynamic moves. Arranging it with “It’s All Right With Me”, we deliver to you the scent of Musk. The red curtains open to a large deer set in the club, where all the otokoyaku-san are assembled and I want to showcase that ultimate edition of this otokoyaku number in Yuzuka Rei era.

Yuzuka: This was the first time we’ve received SHUN-sensei’s choreography and a great challenge now is how to take Sensei’s ideas and integrate them into our body and feelings. The scene shouldn’t end with just how cool the men looked, but it’s also about how to establish that in our body movements to deliver the idea of delivering the scent of the song and how to fully showcase the totality of male pheromones standing out.

Minami, Towaki, Seino: (nods)

Yuzuka: The impact of the stage set is powerful so we need to become an even surpassing presence to conquer! The presence of the deer! And for that we continue to rehearse.

Everyone: (erupting in laughter)

Minami: I’ll cherish the choreography that Sensei created and show something that’s unique to me. As if I want to show my true colours and scents, and in a good sense use our strengths to compete each other and demonstrate that this is the Flower Troupe otokoyaku of Yuzuka Rei’s time and in this generation.

Towaki: I believe it’s vital to grasp Sensei’s nuance when I practice this choreography. I hope this otokoyaku number could go down in Flower Troupe history.

Seino: Grapsing Sensei’s nuance and being familiar with the feeling of it in my body is hard but I’ll experiment it within my body and try my best to deliver that scene.

Noguchi: The music of Chapter 8 “Gourmand” is composed by *Saitou Tsuneyoshi-sensei* and the choreography arranged by SHUN-sensei. The “Thierry Mugler” “ANGEL” perfume bottle is in the shape of a star and I’ve decided to create this scene with this perfume. In a post-modern world, life is absent in this barren earth and some remaining stars sing and dance for new life to manifest…and it’s a scene glorifying how life is wonderful. “Gourmand” represents a fragrant scent that’s tasty like sweets. Hoshikaze-san sings while the STARS dance with THE STAR, Yuzuka-san. Then finally when everyone sings the chorus, Yuzuka-san dance powerfully with the others. It feels like “Sinnerman” avant-garde of a modern “Nova Bossa Nova”, but this is healing and cleansing for the soul…I hope this would feel like a sweet scent enveloping and embracing this dark world.

Yuzuka: For the “Musk” scene, it was amazing to catch the melody of the tune and feel the body movement, studying when to shift our gravity and focus. I already felt how Sensei was so sensitive to such details so this time for this star scene, I’m looking forward to what kind of choreography it would be like. I’d be happy to interact with everyone on stage and dance to this scene.

Hoshikaze: It was such a wonderful song.

Minami: It was very beautiful.

Hoshikaze: There’s this grand dramatic aura that could almost move you to tears when you hear it, so I’m honoured to sing it. There’s a great theme to it that when Yuzuka-san and everyone as the stars dance to this song, it’s like they’re trying to revitalise life, and also manifest that on the earth, and the lyrics also included the subtext (of the revue) “Luxurious Perfume” and the chorus had such a rich harmony…I’m looking forward to the choreography and everything of this scene.

Noguchi: Part 3 “Last Notes” is the FINALE. Chapter 9 is “YVES SAINT LAURENT”’s new perfume LIBRE” and we deliver this medley mashed up with famous musical songs. The music is composed by Oota-sensei. First, Minami-san, Towaki-san and Seino-san form an awesome 11-people team dancing to the contemporary-arranged “MACK THE KNIFE”, introducing to you the Flower Troupe otokoyaku you should look out for. Yuzuka-san and the musumeyaku-san dance to “MY FAIR LADY”’s “On the street where you live”, continuing with the otokoyaku black swallowtail ensemble from a mixup of “Come Dance With Me” “Shall We Dance” “I Could Have Danced All Night”, presenting to you a chic and cool dance. All of the above choreography is done by Suzukake-sensei. The duet dance is choreographed by Hayama-sensei, and with the classical “Some Enchanted Evening” song, I hope this gives a supreme Takarazuka vibe. And about that, the french of enchanted in “SOME ENCHANTED EVENING” is the title “ENCHANTEMENT”. I used a medley version of this song before the Prologue and now it connects back in full circle. Then the parade takes from the “Modesty, Fairness and Grace” motif: “The violets / Are bestowed with God’s grace / The Flowers / Would have that fragrance for many years to come / Now and ever more”, highlighting the theme of this performance with these lyrics.

Welcoming 2023 glamorously

Hoshizora: I hope to embrace the new year with the audience glamorously and do my very best.

Noguchi: Hoshizora-san will be doing the Etoile this time.

Hoshizora: Even though it’s a nervous way to start eh new year (laughs), I’ll devote my. all in rehearsals.

Seino: I want to approach this performance delicately and present the kind of perfumes that inspired each scene and will sincerely perform on stage.

Towaki: When you watch this show, it’s really a magical feeling so I’ll do my best to deliver a great performance.

Kaga: I’m graduating from this performance so I hope to deliver the perfume vibe paired up with each scene. Even if this is the last time I’m sharing this time with everyone in Flower Troupe to work out the process, I hope to be inspired by everyone and become a part of Flower Troupe’s strength to work hard in the rehearsals.

Mikaze: As we’ve said, I have faith that everyone would have a great 2023 with this gorgeous show, no doubt! (laughs) Now in this time, there’s not much time we could communicate and interact, so I’ll treasure the time to have fun with everyone in the CHUUZUME.

Minami: This really is a show that we could enjoy showcasing these various scents to you all. I’ll work hard in rehearsals, remembering the motto of “Modesty, Fairness and Grace” as a Takarazuka sienne so that the audience could also feel that this would be an amazing year.

Hoshikaze: As Noguchi-sensei mentioned about the composition (of this show), I’m more motivated to perform well in this. In order to welcome this new year wonderfully with everyone, I’ll do my best and remaining gratitude for everything I do and work hard.

Yuzuka: In hopes that everyone who’d be coming to the Takarazuka Grand Theatre, and everyone watching in the livestreams to have a happy new year, I want us to create a performance making everyone feel this year is going to be great. I think perfumes can be a fond and deep memory to people that they think of their memories, they imagine the future, they aspire to visit the countries they haven’t been to and I want this performance to look something like that with this special influence. The power of perfumes is always great but I want us to deliver the respective perfumes in the scenes in our performance so that the audience could be enveloped with this scent when they come to watch us.

Noguchi: The first Takarazuka show I watched was “Fascination II -Neo Egoist!-” but I still remember how memorable it was that the performers can deliver their scents to the audience when the curtains raise at the start of the show. Of course, they didn’t wear perfumes, but I want to create a performance that the audience was able to imagine that there was such perfume with their imagination. Also it’s like taking your lucky bag to watch this revue going on your first shrine visit in the new year and I want you to feel satisfied. Let’s embrace shonichi first and let’s pray for a good health that we could perform successfully until Senshuuraku and work hard. Let’s all do well!

Everyone: Let’s all do well!

(Note: Takarazuka performances did not finish all successfully, having a suspension in performances from January 10 to January 19, the Takarazuka newcomers’ performance was cancelled. But the Tokyo performances were all performed without fail, and we finally had our newcomers’ performance recorded more than 3 years since the last time in Tokyo.)

#yuzuka rei #flower troupe #takarazuka revue #takarazuka #hoshikaze madoka #minami maito

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the-trash-eating-llama · 4 months

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I've started work on a new project, here is ðe first chapter.

As all things go, it was quiet. The season was autumn, the usual browns and greens of dirt and moss that often blanketed the forest gave way to spectacular oranges yellows and reds. Yes. Reds.

And so, he would find himself walking along those trees the next time he awoke, slumped on his stump, stumped by the general way of things. But this is not where the story ends, merely begins.

For, you see, one day, the winds began to change.

The mother took a moment to calm herself, for now was the hardest day of her year, autumn. Now, to most, autumn is but sweaters and scarves, but to her home, it was death.

For the boy had long since understood day, it was time for him to understand night.

#long post #long reads #trasheatingllama #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #nature art #writing #literature #wip #witchcraft

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itsohh · 1 year

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Guy Fawkes

AN: Female reader. Heyo! Totally vanished for a bit, the last week I’ve been having this really bad headaches and devolped tinnutis so I haven’t really had the ability to write. Anyway! I’m back and the headaches have cooled down a bit and I’m hoping that this tinnutis isn’t a permiant thing but it most likely is. Eh oh well I’ll live.

Word count: 1745

Warnings: NSFT, smut

AO3

Colours burst through the air before they exploded into a ray of a brighter version of themselves, shapes that outclassed the night sky and rained empty shells onto the ground. In the middle of the field of the cleared field stood one of your fellow operators and friend, Jordan. He was a shadow below the sky spectacular, the entire day had been spent in preparation for this. A commemorative day he only started to celebrate when he found his new home at Rainbow, never one to give up the excuse to let off fireworks. No one had bothered him and while Harry had forbidden any bonfires, the fireworks were allowed with caution.

Not that it directly affected you though, most of your day has been the same only now settling down on the balcony, leaning on the rail as your gaze found the sky. Most of your teammates were on the roof of the building but it was made clear not everyone when the sliding door behind you made a small sound and your head turned slightly at the presence. Brown eyes met your own and your head turned back to the view, popping which turned it to light crackles that filled the air.

"Gustave."

"I hope you don't mind the company."

"Not at all, make yourself at home." Your eyes focused upward as he found his way next to you, his hands stretch out and leaning on the railing.

"Come to watch the show? You will probably get a better view on the roof."

"Ah yes but the company here is far more preferable." He smiled, his face turning to face yours. At his voice, your eyes were torn away from the bright lights and snapped toward his. Gustave's lips were curled upwards, eyes studying your reaction. A flirt or one or a mood brought from crowd exhaustion you didn’t know.

"I'm just surprised you've torn away from your work. It's good for you to finally have a break."

"Hmm, would it be so simple." He hummed, his eyes leaving yours to look up for a moment. "There was some concern about the possibility of injury, but it doesn’t look like there's going to be such an occurrence.”

“Jordan knows what he's doing. Most of the time.” Gustave chuckled next to you.

“Most of the time.” He repeated it, agreeing. Purple blasted into the air which fell down into indigo and finally blue before it faded, the lights reflecting in Gustave's eyes when you turned towards him once again. At that moment the pair of you went silent, staring at each other. Neither of you dared to move until you flinched at the sound of a partially loud firework, one that lit up the entire night sky in a massive yellow circle. Your eyes flashed towards your only for a moment and Gustave used the opportunity to close the gaps between the pair of you, his lips on your own. Lips parted in surprise, his tongue swiped against yours. From your leaning state, you turned towards him, one hand settling on his arm which came around and placed it on your waist. Slowly your lips pressed against his, the sound of the fireworks filling the air.

Like all good things, the kiss came to an end. Gustave pulled back from you, the pair of you now staring into eyes each other. Time ticked and he stayed still. At the queue of a firework, you took a step forward in a rushed movement, the second you did he followed and once again you found yourself in his grasp. His lips were rushedly pressed against your own and you buried your hand in his air while h wrapped his arms around yours. There wasn’t any neatness in the kiss, gaps left your mouths and he hitched your leg up. A gasp left you as he turned and pushed you against the rail, your bad bending back slightly over it as he pressed his body against yours. The feeling of a light object hitting your head has you flinch against the man. Immediately he pulled back in concern, your eyes fell down to the empty fireworks shell on the ground. A sigh of relief left your mouth as you tilted your head with a smile when Gustave joined your sight line, a raised brow in response.

Just as before his lips found yours in hurried movements, open-mouth kisses were shared and you could feel the light rumble of his pleased hum against your mouth. His hand was firm against your waist and the most subtle rocking of his hips was felt against you. The press had you let out a small breathy moan in approval. For so long had you wanted him, it had taken so much self-restraint to not just jump the man, only fear of rejection keeping you at bay. Your lips parted from his, forehead resting together while the pair of you panted. “My place or yours?” The cheesy line breathed from your lips and he lift you up around his waist.

“Mine is closer.” He mumbled before his lips were once again against yours. Movements were slow and messy as he went through the door, carrying you from wall to wall towards his room. Every so often he would stop to press you against a wall and assault your lips. Finally, he reached his dorm room without external interruption, everyone else still out enjoying the show. With a click behind you, the door shut and his hands found the bottom of your white shirt while he held you up, pressed in between him and the door. The pair of your lips parted as he pulled it up and threw it on the floor behind him. In front of you, you could see his dishevelled hair and swollen lips, his darks focused on you as his fingers slid up to uncup your bra with ease. It joined your shirt on the floor which soon gained his own shirt.

Gustave's length pressed against you through his pants but it was ignored as he closed the gap once again. His warm naked chest pressed against yours, your nipples hardening in the air. He groaned as you tugged on his hair, his tongue dancing with your own as he finally pulled you from against the wall. Only then did he move the pair of you, the top of his bed making contact with you as he pushed the pair of you on it. He practically had to rip himself from your grip, you moving with him as he pulled back. Hungry eyes roamed your body as he went from his kneeling state on the bed to a standing state, his hands on his buckle. It wasn’t too often that you saw so much energy in his eyes, wide awake and focused, a look that was often only seen in combat. Gustave continued to pull back his belt and undid it. You lift your own hips, shimming your pants down while he pushed down his pants and briefs. A hitch in your breath came as his length sprang free, long and hard. After stepping out of his pants he found a grip on your own, helping them come off your body.

Normally Gustave would prefer to take his time, but at the moment he couldn’t. He needed you there and then. His fingers dragged up your legs and found your entrance, testing and coating his fingers in your slick. A liquid that shone in the dim light of fireworks came through the window above his bed. With ease he slid his finger into you, you were practically dripping for the man. At the discovery he withdrew his fingers, licking the side of it before leaning forward over the top of you. With his cock in hand he pushed into you. A whimper left your lips and he paused, the stretch so delicious. “Please.” He was careful, but you didn’t want careful at that moment, you wanted him to destroy your pussy. “Gustave, fuck me.” His eyes snapped to yours and he opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut. He tilted his head for a second and his lips curled up, his hips snapping forward. Fully sheathed inside of you, your mouth echoed in the room.

He leaned fully over you, his chest once again pressed against yours and his lips by your ears he groaned against it. A word was mumbled against your ear, what exactly it was, was lost. The bed benight you were silent as he rocked into you, your legs wrapped around his sides, giving him the room to thrust in and out of you with ease. A kiss was placed below your ear as the wet sound of his skin met yours. His mumbles in your ear were low, hard to hear, and in french you eventually figured out. “I don’t…” Understand. That was what you were going to say when your voice trailed off into a light moan while he hit that perfect spot inside of you.

“Hmmm?”

“Fuck. Gustave, please.”

“Anything.” He whispered, his voice strained. “For you.” Your nails dragged against his back, his face now buried in your neck. Gustave's body was so warm against your own, his cock so filling inside of you, his voice so soft against you.

“I’m so close, please.” The feel of his teeth grazing against your neck was the only response as he continued his steady pace tipping you over the edge. Nails created lines down his back as you cried out, pleasure consuming your body in a wave that had you shaking in his arms. He rolled you over from your back onto him as you clutched onto him, slowly his pace before he stopped altogether. His panted breaths were in your ear as he pulled his blankets around the pair of you. As you came back down he had laid fully out, your head on his chest. Your body moved slightly and his dick came free from the inside of you, covered in your juices. Only then did you realise that his own hadn’t joined the mix. But he didn’t seem upset, only content, his eyes shut for a moment listening to the sound of fireworks that continued in the background. You didn’t say anything as you snuggled up to the man. Not that any words were needed.

#r6s #rainbow six siege #r6s x reader #doc x reader #gustave kateb x reader

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appledotcodotuk · 4 months

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Pub Quiz Crusaders

The pub is loud. There is a logical reason for this wall of noise: it is a Saturday night. A time for people to peel themselves away from work and muster their best impression that it, in fact never existed. Such concepts are almost always considered in the abstract, really. On the TARDIS, every night and no night is a Saturday. And as for the work, well what was that saying about loving what you do? Still, not everyone was of the same opinion, and because she had finally worn him down (with precisely 27 seconds of pouting) he had let her choose a place to take a break.

Here he was, tucking himself into a corner of a beer-stained countertop, and trying to look like he was considering the drinks menu. Far more out of place amongst chatter and small talk than on the surface of a new planet. In the background, the noise begins to hit somewhat of a fever pitch: the walls are practically creaking under the collective weight of jabbering arms: condensed sweat dips clammy fingertips into concave divots where elbows bend and flesh meets flesh.

It is really quite incredible, The Doctor finds himself thinking - the way the human body takes an absolute mass of contradictions and turns them into something absolutely spectacular. In his humble and unasked for opinion, to see something so at odds with itself in motion was downright mythical. It shouldn’t work! And yet, every step a human takes is with the sort of self-righteous determination in the face of impossibility that only a human can make. Frankly, he was surprised people could even focus. Why didn’t they just say bugger this for a lark let’s just sit here and look at each other for a moment, more often – if it was ever said at all? Typical really. You give people a body that is just beautiful, really, genuinely, just quite marvellous – so enduring, so adaptable, so… soft – and they don’t even take the time to appreciate it.

Perhaps it was the lack of novelty. His last regenerating had been comforting in teh way thrusting your hand into a fireplace, and not caring if the flesh started to show flashes of the white that lay beneath was: at least you were still warm. New body, new senses, same old thoughts. He liked the feeling of being shaped. Putter around piloting the same bundle of meat, bones and nerves long enough, and the marvel of cornea-to-pupil-to-iris adjusting, constructing, fitting, to-lens-to-retina, that pulsing field of bright light and electricity which dance along the nerves and flood you with colour and shapes from the inside out is given the limp, and utterly inadequate misnomer of ‘seeing’.

From across the bar, Rose is laughing at somebody else’s joke. If he had the sense to, he might have felt a little bit of resentment towards the pretty young man leaning towards her, pointing across the bar towards some shoulder-brushed poster in the far flung reaches of his periphery. Rose obliterates the peripheral, anyway. It is not that he only has eyes for her – a ridiculous phrase, how on earth could he fulfil it? He had tried, but the distressing fact about the eye was that there was no way to control what you see – it was just that looking at anything else felt like just as lamentable a waste of his faculties as neglecting the marvels of his own human-but-not-quite-human body. Cripes. He didn’t remember being quite such a fawning narcissist before. But really, he muses, with a darting glance at his horizon-line lips, can he help it? He is Rose’s. He had avoided his reflection quite studiously in those feverish first hours, when he had still had movement in his limbs and consciousness. Attempted invasion aside, he didn’t want his first meeting with this new face to be the mirror’s cold isolation. All he needed, all he would ever need, was to be folded small and whole into the curve of those nut-shell eyes. What do you think? You think, therefore I am.

He had seen Rose for the first time with eyes wearied by war. He wanted to see her again, see her more, see her always. He allows his eyes to flex and concentrate and pull somewhere deep within the echoing chambers of his hearts her face, her smile, her arms and un-held hands. Her fingers fall in a neat little wave as she sees off that grinning idiot (he catches himself, he is not supposed to care) and bounds over towards him.

‘There’s a pub quiz happening tonight.’ She says, and he can see himself reflected in her eyes. Her voice lilts, leaving ample space for a not-question to dangle. The Doctor smiles, and his eye-pooled doppelganger grins back, lazy and slightly crooked because he is hapless and a fool and can’t help himself – can’t help himself? If the Academy could see him now… - but he doesn’t say anything yet. To appear overeager is dangerous. Far better that she give herself over to that intoxicating vulnerability: to want and to show it. ‘Well, I was just wondering if we could stay, ‘s been ages since my last quiz.’

‘Well, Rose Tyler,’ he says, putting that careful enunciation onto her name; savouring the way the syllables roll around this new tongue, ‘Am I in the presence of an expert?’ He asks, wiggling his newly expressive eyebrows. His reward is tenfold: a warm giggle, a light tap on his shoulder. ‘Well… in that case I’d be an absolute Graske in a basket to say no, wouldn’t I?’ Now his whole body is swaying; shifting on his squeaky, appallingly loud bar stool and telegraphing everything he tries his level best not to indulge in: the self-satisfied delight of making Rose Tyler laugh. The moment is sweetened by the undeniable fact that her laugh is at least 5 decibels, and 50,000 emptrons (a new and very valuable measure of delight he had made up about two seconds ago) higher than anything that ridiculous young man had been capable of. But, because he is both unfathomably better and smarter than Rose’s newly acquired strutting fool, he tries his best not to show it.

‘Oh, just you wait. I’ll go sign us up!’ She turns to leave, but not before reaching over and squeezing his hand.

The ‘Buh’ he mutters is thankfully, mercifully dashed against her retreating back. Wouldn’t do to be lost for words moments before he’d need to put those words to use. Rose Tyler had a special ability to render him speechless; to snatch the words, which this body clung to so stubbornly, from his mouth and scatter them in the void itself. He had never been this chatty in his last form. When he was alone in the console room, and caught a gaze of himself in the Time Rotor, hovering over the Heart, he sometimes wondered if this body was an apology. Repair. The opportunity to speak all the words unsaid, and yet simultaneously say absolutely nothing at all. He really was still the same man.

He stares down at the treacherous appendage, flexing and clenching and always the main recipient of Rose’s affections, with a mixture of inexplicable jealousy and delight. He had scared her. Even when everything was alright, because Rose was travelling with him again, it had been snowing ashes, and his hand had given her the creeps. Horrible things, the creeps. A shiver up your spine packaged into a phrase that felt whimsical: the name for a band dealing exclusively in Halloween covers perhaps. He had always loved the concept of novelty covers. Take the same old song, repurpose it a few times, twist a few lyrics here and there – it was an admirably bald-faced mixing and mashing. She had looked so frightened huddled behind the branching coral of his beautiful ship. He had been so ready to pounce on the danger, only to realise her eyes were on him. Can you change back. Change back. Give him back to me. He had really tried for a moment. Begged his cells to unspool their DNA, to turn back the reel and project the face she trusted back onto the shifting flesh that had formed his new, soft head. But even as he considered it, he knew. There was no going back. Not for either of them.

‘Alright, so, there’s a few different categories: History, Science, General Knowledge, Literature and … God! What was the last one?’ She’s back. The Doctor swings around to face her in a way that he sincerely hopes is at least a little more suave and cool (since when had he needed to be cool?) than it feels. ‘Oh, I HATE when this happens.’ Her foot taps a quick frustrated tempo, and unconsciously a finger rests itself against her bottom lip. The Doctor tries very hard to defy the independent and localized gravitational field of Rose, a law that Newton would certainly find he had severely neglected to consider, but part of him knows the resistance is cursory. So he steals a glance at her lips. They’re working their way around a word, trying to put air to those flashing bolts of electric thought. ‘It’s right on the tip of my tongue! M… M…’

‘M….oney? M….artians? M…ovie-‘

‘Movies! Yes! You’re brilliant, you are.’

She’s joking, mostly, but the simper that it produces is fully and abashedly authentic.

‘Course I am. So! Rose Tyler: Trivia Master Extraordinaire, what is the strategy for tonight’s battle of wits?’

‘Hmm, well, my second-in-command, we have a simple goal. Win.’

‘Hm! Short and to the point, I like your style.’ He pauses, trying to delay the words from coming out of his mouth but they’re already being flung into the air by his tongue tapping cruel rhythms into his teeth and: ‘I’m so glad to have met you’ come barreling out, far too light for the history that drags the sentence towards the floor. Mangled, like a record player that scratches as it plays.

She stiffens a little. Imperceptible to most humans, hardly worth noticing for any species with superior sight. But he notices, and he also knows that there is no hiding their shared awareness of that moment, of the words that call to a past neither of them are quite willing to address with sincerity. But, there is the perfect cover, because in the ruddy glow of fire burning red in beer and the cheeks of its drinkers, over a pub quiz, it is easy to shoo sincerity away.

He takes her hand. Hesitates. She interlaces their fingers and smiles. It is returned. Of course it is. He grasps for more words, always more words. Words to fill the holes that words tear. ‘Come along, Trivia Master Extraordinaire, the scene of our grand victory awaits!’

Their competition: a young couple who, when they weren’t canoodling (Rose had practically guffawed at that word when he’d said it, but no other phrase came close!) were taking sips of rapidly decreasing beer and a pair of mothers who had surrendered their sheet to the creative flourishes of their youngest had stood absolutely no chance. Rose Tyler and The Doctor, team name: TARDIS (Truly Amazing paiR of Dilemma Interpreters and Solvers) an acronym so strained that the owner, when handing over their prize had paid homage with a grumbled gesture of ‘you lot’, had entered the melee and emerged with nothing less than absolute victory. They had been harsh, and at times, merciless. A fumbled phrasing, a half-remembered title was given absolutely no leniency. All’s fair in love and war. With an exactness, precision, and an intimate apprehension of historical events that went against the received knowledge of ‘History’ (it would be at least half a century before The Doctor would forgive the two lovebirds for their skepticism at his assertion that Dickens had encountered real ghosts alongside the four featured in A Christmas Carol - thus tallying the score to at least the mid-50s – but a jab in the ribs from Rose had silenced him) it would’ve been daylight robbery to give them anything less than first prize.

Cradling their spoils: a single bottle of champagne that Rose had commented was often half-off in the pub’s local, they stumbled their way home. Home. Of course, the TARDIS was home for him. But it surprised him how quickly home had expanded to include her in it. Her cheeks were warm, and slightly pink from the cold and the drink. He has no excuse for the light pink that flushes his face with a warmth, a semblance of humanity. Alcohol has no effect: he doesn’t feel the cold. But, hand in hand with his best mate, he finds himself wondering if drink could ever produce this rush, this ecstasy. The Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS, solving planetary crises or cruising by the estate for pub quizzes. It was right, it was safe. It was as natural as the way their arms curled around each other, interlaced like an embrace.

#tenrose #I was supposed to write my diss: I open my word document and shitty doctor who fanfiction spills out #I tried !!#has not been edited thoroughly and i will probably look at this tomorrow and gag but HEY I am WRITING which I haven't done and enjoyed #in a bit of time so yeay #I love early tenrose so much so sweet and intense and absolutely fraught with potential angst :]#tenth doctor #rose tyler #fanfiction

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