Got an 11, so used an emotion generator to decide. Got close, eager, and excited, so I ran with it.
He woke up slowly, becoming increasingly aware as he did so of something warm and solid at his back. His eyes opened and he turned slightly, his lips quirking upwards when he caught sight of blonde hair.
Sindre, who had crashed at the Dutchman's place after Merlin and dinner had run a bit long
( ... )
3. Shy Sindre? This is a new one. Be on the lookout for accidental moe.
This was a rather pleasant way to wake up, Sindre thought, a quiet hum slipping out as he shifted against the sheets. Warm figure pressed against his back, kisses being pressed to his skin...
Sindre shot a hand out. Any bedmate of his should know to bring coffee if he were to be at all useful right after waking up. Sure enough, his fingers brushed a glass and, without opening his eyes, he started gulping it down.
Only to start spluttering. That was awful. And not coffee. True, he was feeling much more awake now, but he would prefer it to be due to caffeine in the future, not an assault on his tastebuds.
Mind now somewhat functioning, Sindre turned his head to get a look at the person who woke him, only to whip it back around. It was Wilm. Wilm was behind him, kissing him
( ... )
Encouraged by the hum Willem picked up his pace, alternating the kisses with nuzzling the man's shoulder. He moved with the other man as he reached towards the night stand, not wanting to break from what he was doing.
Then suddenly sheets hit him in the face as they were pulled upwards, and he pulled back a bit in puzzlement. He couldn't understand what Sindre said to him, but the other man's voice sounded a bit off. A bit nervous, a bit worried, neither of which was a good thing. Pushing himself up he leaned so he was hovering over the other man, looking down at Sindre's profile.
9. Shy, and now panicked? By Emi? Man, this meme is not making it easy on me.
Sindre couldn't quite recall how he had gotten here. Or why he was dancing on the table. Or where the tank top and skirt came from.
He did know he hadn't had this much fun, or this much to drink, in a long, long time.
Accepting help off the table, Sindre downed the drink pressed into his hand. A slight grimace crossed his face as he did so, but it wasn't the worst he'd had that night, so he paid it no mind.
Draining the glass, he started to glance around the room, but blanched at the first face that swam into focus.
Emi. Faen. He'd heard horror stories of what she'd do if she caught you out making an idiot of yourself in public. Especially while inebriated.
Stumbling, he tried to make his way through the crowd, praying to any god that was listening that he hadn't been spotted.
5. Let's Steampunkesque this bitchSindre stared coldly at yet another man who had passed too close to Willem as he quickened his own step. No way to guard the other's back if he were too far away
( ... )
Rolled a 1, then a 4. Clearly this is destiny.At the sound of the doorchimes, Sindre's head shot up, a ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. There she was: the highlight of his week
( ... )
Oh my, the numbers dont lie Sindre~ I got a 3 - you get a shy ladyNafretiri always needed a place to frequent for such things. Her candles and scents and stones and every other sort of thing under the sun. IN the beginning she came when she needed then, as her talks with the main employee got longer and more sophisticated, she made a point to visit the shop weekly. She always bought something but she really came for the conversation
( ... )
A light scowl crossed his face. "I have," he replied. "Some kids came in earlier in the week and knocked over all the incense. Took ages to sort out what was still sellable, let alone which stick was which scent. The nisse--" he cut himself off abruptly. He had never brought up the nisse with Nafretiri before, and he saw no reason he should now.
"Needless to say, I needed to use that ritual then," he continued. "Thank you for it--it helped quite a bit." Though he wasn't sure if the aid came more from the ritual or the feeling of warmth that had spread through him as he tried out Nafretiri's gift to him.
It starts with one evening while they're sitting on the couch, snuggled together on the couch as the tv plays and Pochi makes the occasional sleepy sound from beneath the coffee table. Willem had started off drinking something out of a bottle he'd found in the back of his boyfriend's fridge. He'd thought it was that soda Kiku had introduced him to when they'd been in Japan last, but whatever this was tasted sharper and sweeter.
Putting his still half full glass down on the table, he gestured towards the characters on the screen as they readied themselves to spar again.
Kiku sipped at his drink, something Willem had poured for both of them. He'd have to ask what it was later. The taste was odd; fruity with something sour, but a lingering bitterness. Odd drinks aside, it was a relaxing night. They'd been working on a historical drama since it was revealed to Kiku just how fond Willem was of kimono and swordsmen with as often as he was finding sketches of himself in samurai armor.
Setting his empty glass on the table at the question, he regarded his boyfriend. What if...perhaps he felt that Kiku was less adequate since he had given up on martial arts?
"It looks like a lot of fun, and you always talk about it like you enjoyed it. I just wondered what made you stop."
He could picture Kiku in the practice uniforms the young men wore on screen, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he readied his wooden sword again. It was an appealing image, and not just because Kiku would look extremely hot like that. He also looked fierce, determined, all that inner strength coming to the fore.
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He woke up slowly, becoming increasingly aware as he did so of something warm and solid at his back. His eyes opened and he turned slightly, his lips quirking upwards when he caught sight of blonde hair.
Sindre, who had crashed at the Dutchman's place after Merlin and dinner had run a bit long ( ... )
Reply
This was a rather pleasant way to wake up, Sindre thought, a quiet hum slipping out as he shifted against the sheets. Warm figure pressed against his back, kisses being pressed to his skin...
Sindre shot a hand out. Any bedmate of his should know to bring coffee if he were to be at all useful right after waking up. Sure enough, his fingers brushed a glass and, without opening his eyes, he started gulping it down.
Only to start spluttering. That was awful. And not coffee. True, he was feeling much more awake now, but he would prefer it to be due to caffeine in the future, not an assault on his tastebuds.
Mind now somewhat functioning, Sindre turned his head to get a look at the person who woke him, only to whip it back around. It was Wilm. Wilm was behind him, kissing him ( ... )
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Then suddenly sheets hit him in the face as they were pulled upwards, and he pulled back a bit in puzzlement. He couldn't understand what Sindre said to him, but the other man's voice sounded a bit off. A bit nervous, a bit worried, neither of which was a good thing. Pushing himself up he leaned so he was hovering over the other man, looking down at Sindre's profile.
"You okay?"
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(Also won't be able to really respond until after my midterm on Monday, a-ahahaha.)
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Sindre couldn't quite recall how he had gotten here. Or why he was dancing on the table. Or where the tank top and skirt came from.
He did know he hadn't had this much fun, or this much to drink, in a long, long time.
Accepting help off the table, Sindre downed the drink pressed into his hand. A slight grimace crossed his face as he did so, but it wasn't the worst he'd had that night, so he paid it no mind.
Draining the glass, he started to glance around the room, but blanched at the first face that swam into focus.
Emi. Faen. He'd heard horror stories of what she'd do if she caught you out making an idiot of yourself in public. Especially while inebriated.
Stumbling, he tried to make his way through the crowd, praying to any god that was listening that he hadn't been spotted.
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He stopped speaking for a moment to casually slide in between Wilm and the girl passing by, deflecting the hand going for Wilm's purse effortlessly.
"But something's setting my teeth on edge," he continued. "Not sure what. But it's there."
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"Needless to say, I needed to use that ritual then," he continued. "Thank you for it--it helped quite a bit." Though he wasn't sure if the aid came more from the ritual or the feeling of warmth that had spread through him as he tried out Nafretiri's gift to him.
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It starts with one evening while they're sitting on the couch, snuggled together on the couch as the tv plays and Pochi makes the occasional sleepy sound from beneath the coffee table. Willem had started off drinking something out of a bottle he'd found in the back of his boyfriend's fridge. He'd thought it was that soda Kiku had introduced him to when they'd been in Japan last, but whatever this was tasted sharper and sweeter.
Putting his still half full glass down on the table, he gestured towards the characters on the screen as they readied themselves to spar again.
"Why did you quit kendo?"
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Kiku sipped at his drink, something Willem had poured for both of them. He'd have to ask what it was later. The taste was odd; fruity with something sour, but a lingering bitterness. Odd drinks aside, it was a relaxing night. They'd been working on a historical drama since it was revealed to Kiku just how fond Willem was of kimono and swordsmen with as often as he was finding sketches of himself in samurai armor.
Setting his empty glass on the table at the question, he regarded his boyfriend. What if...perhaps he felt that Kiku was less adequate since he had given up on martial arts?
"W-why do you ask?"
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"It looks like a lot of fun, and you always talk about it like you enjoyed it. I just wondered what made you stop."
He could picture Kiku in the practice uniforms the young men wore on screen, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he readied his wooden sword again. It was an appealing image, and not just because Kiku would look extremely hot like that. He also looked fierce, determined, all that inner strength coming to the fore.
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