#AHHHHHHHH

whentheoceanmetsky

MIGHTY MIGHTY LOOK FROSTINTHEWARREN GOT INSPIRED BY YOUR PICTURE AND WROTE MORE FABULOUS STUFF ABOUT LINGERIE

(I’ll leave your personal comments out of this but thank you so much you’re a totally sweetheart and lingerie muse and general upstanding member of shipping society bless <3 <3 <3)

Pitch opened one eye lazily. “Sanderson, what are you doing?”
Sandy paused with his hands on Pitch’s ankles, a wholly innocent expression widening his eyes in a show of, ‘Who, me?’
Pitch breathed deeply through his nose, and raised his upper body onto his elbows. Craning his head, he glanced over his shoulder at the far too-innocent star. “Sanderson, I’m trying to sleep.”
Sandy nodded, blinked too sweetly, and pouted.
Pitch rolled his eyes and lay back down, humming contently at the feel of Sandy’s cool sheets beneath his naked body. “Fine, do what you want. But make it swift.”
Pitch didn’t have to be able to see Sandy’s face to know he was smiling. He could feel it in the kiss Sandy pressed to his ankle. Pitch closed his eyes, falling into the cusp of a light doze while Sandy’s hands traced up his legs, over the roundness of his bottom, and across the pale expanse of his back. The silken brush of dream sand tickled on his skin. He was almost surprised when he felt it slip to the front, running across his pelvis, chest, and between his legs. 
Sandy tapped his shoulder when he finished, and Pitch hummed as he pulled himself from the temptation of sleep. He rolled over onto his back, and with Sandy perched serenely at his left, opened his eyes once more.
“Finished?” he questioned, raising himself up onto his elbows again. He looked down and blinked in surprise. 
Much like Sandy’s own robes, which were made from his dream sand, Pitch was now wearing the bright gold sand-cloth across parts of his body. A bodice laced up his sides, the top of the bodice stopping just above his nipples. Smooth, sand-cloth underwear cupped him intimately, sweetly gentle. Over-top the underwear a garter belt was slung across his hips, the straps cutting a bright line of gold down his pale thighs, where they clipped onto long, fine gold stockings. 
“I didn’t take you for a lingerie man, Sanderson.” Pitch lifted a leg, pointing his toes upward, tilting his foot this way and that to better see the stockings.
Sandy nodded, his eyes lidded and skimming over Pitch’s body.
Pitch smirked, lowering his leg. “But you know, I don’t think gold is quite my color. Perhaps just a touch of…” He tapped the center of the bodice’s front with his index finger. Veins of black branched out through the gold. Pitch nodded. “Much better.”
Sandy skimmed his hand up Pitch’s arm, tiny fingers eventually tracing over the sharp lines of his clavicle. His smile spoke of approval.
Pitch reached out, walking his fingers up Sandy’s chest until he could get a grip on the other’s collar. He pulled Sandy’s face down to his, giving a slow, heavy kiss to his lips. When he pulled back Sandy looked slightly dazed.
“You realize,” Pitch said deviously, “that this means I get to make a set for you.”

thismightyneed

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Wishing on a Star

gretchensinister

"What? That doesn’t have anything to do with the original title! There’s no reason for them to have changed it."

"I don’t caaaaare."

"I’m just saying, Garder Quelque Chose Pour la Bonne Bouche worked perfectly well! And what else will have been pointlessly changed, then?”

"I’m sure you’ll tell me. But we’re going to watch the movie dubbed because I want to knit."

"But the narrator…"

"In the dub it’s Jim Dale. Come on, the movie night was your idea."

***

            Pitch Black, resident of a small neighborhood in a grand city which we shall not name, the opening shot having definitively established the location—to say nothing of the content of this story and the music currently playing behind my voice—had, for many years, followed daily the same routine.

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thismightyneed

I GONNA BE LAYING ON THE FLOOR UNDER MY DESK BECUASE I DON’T EVEN

THIS FIC

AHHHHHHHH