#also that fried rice is fucking fantastic

[dellalyra]

𝓀𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓇𝑒 - j j k

They say the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach - but can the jjk characters cook?

ɢᴇᴛᴏ ꜱᴜɢᴜʀᴜ

Geto can cook - if by cooking you mean instant ramen or maybe if he’s feeling adventurous, a fried egg. He is fully aware of his lack of culinary skills and doesn’t even attempt to cook anything.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

This man - domestic god. But - don’t come into his kitchen. This is not a cute ‘hey let’s cook together’ scenario. He is in the zone - will serve you a whole 3 course meal with perfectly paired wine. Incredible skills, makes the best bread but absolutely will not allow you near him while he cooks.

ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ

Eh - can make sandwiches, maybe some pasta dishes. Simple stuff, healthy stuff too. He’s not awful, not great. Definition of a week night cook.

ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ

No.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴜᴊɪ

An incredible cook. Can’t bake to save his life but fantastic otherwise. Also, a surprisingly tidy and efficient cook? Not always the healthiest, lots of really yummy stuff though.

ɴᴏʙᴀʀᴀ ᴋᴜɢɪꜱᴀᴋɪ

Can only make cookies. That’s it. But like - they’re good cookies. More of an eat out kinda girl.

ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ

Actually - not the worst. But like - a food is fuel kinda guy unless he’s at some fancy ass restaurant where he’s not paying. He’s a meat and rice for protein and carbs kinda man.

ᴍᴀᴋɪ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ

Growing up how she grew up, as a Zen’in female child - she had to learn to cook. Both her and Mai were in the kitchen helping prepare meals so yeah, she can cook. Now, she hates it. It makes her feel like she’s back there - she is similar to Toji and Megumi really (a defected Zen’in trait) in that she eats healthily, balanced meals - probably meal preps too.

ɪᴇɪʀɪ ꜱʜᴏᴋᴏ

Also, no.

ɪɴᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ ᴛᴏɢᴇ

Yeah he’s decent - likes to cook with people, really enjoys baking. It’s more of like, a fun activity for him - he usually ends up baking stuff with Panda and occasionally Yuuta. Makes sweet stuff a lot, uses it to bribe Gojo.

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴏ

He’s got the spirit! He was born like - a few months ago, so he’s no idea what he’s doing! But he will learn! It’s something Yuuji loves doing so he will do it with him. I feel like as a death painting womb he doesn’t NEED to eat - but he enjoys it, thinks exploring tastes and things is fun. Very wholesome. Becomes obsessed with learning about nutrition so he can keep people healthy.

ʏᴜᴜᴛᴀ ᴏᴋᴋᴏᴛꜱᴜ

This man is a mom cook. He makes big servings of very hearty meals that will fill you right up (get your mind out of the gutter). It’s so yummy, real cosy, curl up by the fire kinda food. Signature thing he makes is banana bread.

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ

If you want raw fucking meat then maybe? Absolutely not, wouldn’t not eat anything this man put near me.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru #jjk headcanons #nanami kento #megumi fushiguro #yuuji itadori #maki zenin #choso x reader

[daisymylove]

Right, so, I'm an acotar hater with all my heart 😍 and don't care for the other sjm books in the least.In fact, it came as no surprise at all that she's a zionist, considering that her beloved ruler not only hoards copious amounts of wealth while his people is segregated, most of them living in poverty, and the marginalized /brown folks being portrayed as inferior, backward brutes and arseholes unworthy of their precious city and time.Did I mention that over half of his people hates him? Fantastic leader 😍👏🏻☺️🥰😘

Anyway I found out recently that there's a crossover between the series, got the context about what nesta did and went to read the extra chapter online to see bat lord's hissy fit first-hand.

Bryce's mom is low key shitty btw, my own mom is far from perfect, but even if she did want to obliterate me, she would never stand by and let some random fucker say that, let alone bad mouth me to said random fucker.Its odd that she seems to stand up more for a boy that she has known for weeks and a woman she just met than her own kid, also I would file for fucking divorce on the spot if my husband had decided to be complicit on a sexist joke about me and our daughter with aforementioned fucker, but I digress

What I did like about her tho was how she handed lavender eyes' ass to him.Someone has to since apparently feyre has been lobotomized and those cult members of the ic murdered Nesta's fighting spirit

And tbh I feel so bad for her, she seems so subdued for nesta's standarts. I wanted to reach for her hand and tell her that 1 if her husband loves counterfeit Batman so much he can go gag on his cock all day, she'll find something better in no time and 2 she'll do it sooner rather than later bc her sister and her are coming with me.If feyrug wants to bring the devilspawn along its fine too

The thing is the average acotar fan is pretty much Sjms trained dog.They'll go along with everything the narrative says, no reading comprehension skills whatsoever.But apparently all characters from CC who have met Rice bowl dislike him and like Nesta, so I am now wondering if she's not planning to reveal later on that Batfae was the villain all along and completely fried Feyre's brain.Again, I don't expect much from a zionist, but its undeniable that it doesn't add up, to the point that I'm wondering if it's the sake person writing the books.I would like someone who actually read the Cc books I would rather lick a McDonald's slider than subject myself to that togive their opinions

#just waiting for the death threats to slid in #anti acotar #anti rhysand #anti cassian #anti nessian #nesta archeron #anti sjm

[littlemessyjessi]

I feel, deep in my bones, that one could summon fae!Felix by repeating that bit he does in Topline thrice over in a mirror: BOM DIGI DIGI BOM BOM BOM BOM and maybe it works faster if you try to 'go deep' with it... or maybe this is just stuck in my head in an audio stim kind of way and I live in the land of delulu

A Guide to Summoning Your Faelix: AKA Faerie Felix / the most sweetest thing in the world.

FAE FELIX?

Ok!

SO let's do this!

First, we'll need to set the mood. Obviously, we're gonna need blue. It is his favorite color. Even though poor baby was recently heartbroken because the color analyst told him that blue doesn't work for him. Even though OBVIOUSLY that is incorrect! He is gorgeous in blue. Precious baby. How dare they? Unacceptable.

So, I just feel like it's absolutely NECESSARY that we include blue for the baby chick. Fuck them color swatches.

NEXT! Brownies as an offering. Non negotiable. Here is his recipe. Enjoy. They are fantastic.

Third.... we must call on the spirit of Bang Chan for he can always find his Lixie. Plus, he's our resident source of Lixie information. If he doesn't know, he'll figure it out for us. Bang Chan for President.

Now, it's time to get down to business. This is very serious. Set the lights. Turn on the music. Look in the mirror and say it.

Put all the bass you got in your voice and ..... POOF!

Congratulations! You have completed your very first summoning.

Now, let's discuss care for your Fae Felix.

First and foremost, he is going to require lots of love and affection. If you do not feel as if you can provide adequate love and affection for your Faelix then please reconsider.

If your Faelix does not receive adequate time, care and affection then he will cry. And subsequently, I will come to beat your ass.

BECAUSE HOW DARE YOU! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! DON"T YOU DARE MAKE THIS BABY SUNSHINE CHICKEN CRY! THIS MEANS WAR!

And! I'm telling Minho! And he'll help me whoop ass. So be prepared and think about that when moving forward with your Faelix.

Minho is watching...

Always watching.

Perhaps, a Hyunjinnie would be more suitable for you or perhaps a Minho. They still require love and affection but they do understand that everyone needs alone time.

Though, if you do choose to summon Minho... god help you.

If you have an aversion to copious amounts of physical displays of love and affection, PLEASE AND I AM BEGGING YOU... do NOT summon yourself a Changbinnie. He WILL be giving you his love and you WILL like it.

Fair warning.

But back to Faelix.

Now, please remember that your Faelix can handle some spice but not exceedingly so.

Be mindful of his dietary needs.

If not he'll scream.

On that note, you are going to need to stock up on rice cakes. Trust me. And probably fried chicken. Just do it.

It is also important to note that your Faelix is also sensitive to scary things so he's not likely to be a horror movie buddy for you. If you really, really, REALLY want him to... he'll do it to make you happy. However, he will basically turn your room into a nest at night and cover you with cuddles all night long... because he's scared to death. Poor Lixie. You will have a much better experience if you pick a comedy or action. He'll still cuddle you (if you want it) but it won't be out of fear. And nobody wants a scared Lix. He deserves to be happy.

Also, on this note of Fae Felix. Just so you know, you're not supposed to give fairies your name. No matter how much they beg.

However, Felix is literally the one that you could tell anything and he wouldn't use it against you. You're secret is safe with him. As is your soul.

Now, in summary : It's all important but here are your TOP 3 to remember!

Number One: Please provide adequate love, affection and care for your Faelix.

Number Two: Please mind his dietary needs and plan accordingly. Give him whatever he wants. Or else he is going to become insane.

Number Three: The Final and Most Important Rule of All

Remember that Minho is watching... always watching.

He sees all.

He knows all.

I know, You know, We know, Lee Know

Thank you for coming to my presentation and have a nice day.

Please help yourself to a treat on your way out. We're serving brownies. Obviously.

..............

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this crazy tangent of mine and thank you so much for sending it in!

Love, K

Permanent Taglist:

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@toomanyfictionalboyfriends

@blackirisposts

@alisoncdariel

@therealmrshale

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#lee felix #felix lee #stray kids #skz #felix imagine #felix lee imagine #kpop #lee felix x reader #felix lee x reader #kpop x reader #fae felix #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #fairy felix #fae skz #fae stray kids #fae lee felix #fae felix lee

[quickhacked]

❤️💔🐷😖🤓🍝 + vincent (bc i miss him and want to hear of him), reid and a bonus oc of your choice that you would like to answer these for!! :3

oc asks!

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

hanan is daring, gentle and kind. kind of simple positive traits maybe but considering she works as arasaka security and is tasked with keeping test subjects of one of its secret projects under control it's very special traits to have i think

she's not easily scared which is a good thing to have in that line of work, but it also means that she's not scared to sometimes break or bend the rules juuuust a little bit if it means one of the test subjects can be a little bit more comfortable, just a little bit less in pain. she's very strong and can wrestle anything and anyone to the ground but those same hands will tend to wounds SO carefully. and she's been trained to be cold and uncaring and even though she knows that most of the test subjects will end up dead anyway, she is still kind to them and tries to be a friend to them, because the words she says to them before they go back into testing might just be the last words they'll ever hear

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

hanan is erratic, indecisive and resentful. she will often want to do whatever feels right in the moment, leading to her being very unpredictable which can make her difficult to work with and this is especially a problem within her division, where everyone is mostly in it for themselves and her doing her own thing is very much not beneficial for anyone else

at the same time, all of THAT leads to her indecisiveness because it makes her wonder if she needs to take on a different approach. at some point, circumstances lead to her following others' lead a lot more, which gets disrupted when she starts seeing things happening she doesn't agree with and it makes her hesitant to follow the orders she's been given. kind of an intricate clusterfuck where different traits and circumstances are causing her to get worse which is not what you wanna see

the resentfulness mostly manifests itself in her ability to just hold lifelong grudges. it's very difficult to get back on her good side once she feels like you wronged her in a way; but at the same time it's very difficult to get to that point in the first place, so once you've crossed that line you must've fucked up BADLY to get there

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?

hanan loves bears! they're strong. they look cute. very huggable. she's very upset about the fact that you shouldn't actually hug a bear she wants to do that so bad

😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved?

hanan is an ambivert! loves to be around other people and prefers it so much over being alone but also gets very easily overwhelmed when it's too many people or the wrong people. not that she would ever let this show because she can't afford to do that in her line of work

🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

hanan likes to talk but is more often quiet than anything else because of her position in arasaka. once she's in private she will just keep talking though, doesn't talk very fast so it's less of rambling / infodumping it's more like. idk she kinda has a storyteller vibe to her when it comes to talking? if that makes sense? very pleasant voice to listen to and she can make any dull situation sound like the most fantastic thing to have happened all month

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

she loves any dish with rice, mainly nasi and risotto! also likes potatoes a lot, mashed potatoes and fries specifically, but she will eat them in any way honestly. generally doesn't eat a lot of meat but she won't say no to a good hamburger

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

reid is charming, determined and surprisingly thoughtful, once you get on his good side and he's taken a liking to you! he's a very good talker so he's very good at making people feel at ease in a conversation. hardworking and doesn't back down easily so if he has a job to do, he'll make sure that he finishes it (which is part of why he ended up kind of losing himself at maxtac a bit, too lost in the "wanting to be good" sauce). and once he's in his "no longer evil i wanna be loved now" era he really just wants what's best for his friends and he'll make an effort to make that reality. he's very insightful and can easily act on people's needs without words and he often uses this to surprise people with things (mostly in secret; he will simply do a task that someone's been putting off or he buys someone a gift and leaves it on their desk, he doesn't need credit for any of it)

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

reid is arrogant, impatient, jealous and manipulative as FUCK. mentioning four of them because his arrogance settles down VERY quickly once he's no longer in a powerful position. getting locked up for a year in some safehouse is very humbling LMAO the arrogance leaves his body with the confidence that his position of power gave him basically <3

still very impatient though but he doesn't get snappy because of it, he's just imploding one billion times until the thing is over and then he can be normal again. the jealousy is also still a bit of an issue, he gets jealous VERY quickly and he KNOWS it's a problem so he tries dealing with it as best as he can. can you imagine that jealousy is what caused him to try and hunt cassidy down in the first place. boy if you'd just been a better boyfriend to him then none of that had to happen in the first place

his manipulative side is also no longer active for the most part, right now he just uses it to get more money out of aubrey's rich corpo cunt clients or he uses it while doing gigs but he's not actively manipulating his friends or anything. he used to do that all the time though, especially back at maxtac he really just wanted more power and he was willing to do anything to get it

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?

reid's favorite animal is a spider! he LOVES spiders. he's obsessed with them. fascinated even. whenever he finds a spider at home he will just sit there and look at it. he can SO easily identify different kinds of spiders

😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved?

reid is an ambivert though he Thought he was an extrovert for the longest time which is why he never really realized it when certain situations were draining his battery :( it mainly depends on the company and the location + external factors like how busy it is and how much noise there is and how much sleep he got last night, and nowadays he automatically tends to be a little bit more reserved than he used to be because he doesn't want people to get the wrong impression of him by taking over the conversation too much

🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

kind of similar to previous answer, he's pretty reserved in conversations nowadays but always knows JUST what to say or ask next to keep it going and to like, not make it awkward basically :) he's usually very comfortable in social situations he just doesn't want to be Too Much and also if the situation itself is Too Much then he automatically retreats a little bit. he's a tired little man nowadays he needs to save up his energy he's getting old

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

reid will basically eat anything when he's going through a depressive/dissociative episode and it will be THE fucking best thing he's eaten all week. could be a tin of sardines. could be a slice of dry bread with some butter. could be plain microwaved rice

when he's NOT in hell however he loves pasta a lot! big fan of curry too, loves chicken roti, loves pilav, loves to make wraps with some chicken and veggies. he's not a very big eater but if you give him fried chicken you'll have to take it away from him at some point because he will just not stop eating until it's gone

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

vincent is affectionate, passionate and reliable! he loves his friends so much and he's always making sure that they know it :) he's very passionate about the things he does and the things he likes and he always brings the best energy with him wherever he goes which makes him very easy to like!

his reliability is funny because he IS very reliable it's just that. he may fuck it up first. a few times sometimes. he will NOT stick to the plan. if there's even a plan to begin with. but you'll have his word that in the end he will get shit done and he will fix any mess that he might've made along the way and that's very important to me. he's doing the best he can and he won't stop until everything is sorted out but he is messy along the way but humans are just messy in general and it's fine. he's doing just fine

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

vincent is disruptive, jealous and a little bit touchy. the disruptiveness ties in with him being messy; it Mostly applies to combat situations where things always end up a lot bigger than necessary because of him but also in regular situations sometimes where he's being very excited but is accidentally too loud / too present etc etc

the jealousy is a direct result of him being the youngest of. five. yes. i keep forgetting how many siblings he has but yes he's got four older siblings and he had to fight for his LIFE to get some sort of attention at home. in his eyes his siblings always had cooler stuff than him (which was definitely true to a degree) and it's made him very possessive of everything he has nowadays and he easily slides back into the "i want that too" mindset from when he was younger

that's also where the touchy attitude comes in play. he gets defensive very quickly and is prone to take things personally a lot even when that's not even close to what people meant :( he ends up being able to deal with it better over time because of the dynamics at home with vitali and mikhail being a lot better than back with his family so that's very nice

🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal?

vincent loves so many animals but his favorite would be a cat :) that's why he's got three cats at home at this point LMAO nibbles (his own cat), sapphire (vitali's cat) and buttons (mikhail's cat) :D

😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved?

vincent is definitely more of an extrovert but for a while after recovering from first johnny being stuck in his head and then from getting rid of soulkiller's influence (the thing that only gave him six months left to live etc etc) every social interaction basically kills him dead on the floor and it takes him a WHILE to fight that off

🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy?

vincent is pretty chatty! he always has things to talk about but he needs to feel comfortable with someone first and once that happens he is never going to shut up ever again basically

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

he LOVES burritos (thank you red). he could eat those for breakfast And lunch And dinner and he'd be lying if he said he's never done that before. big fan of stews as well, loves korean bbq, OBSESSED with shoarma. won't say no to a good pizza either. he will basically eat anything though, and he also eats nearly everything with hot sauce

#asks #mutuals #aartyom #ask:hanan #ask:reid #ask:vincent #oc asks #THANK YOU SO MUCH RENA <333 you are so right by the way i also miss vincent :( world's sweetest little man #first hanan mention on my blog also tee hee >:^) i Will be talking more about her soon. kaida as well. the two newest additions #apologies for the reverse blorbo order also ESHJGFDKG i Have to do it in alphabetical order or my brain is going to kill me with hammers

[greetingsfromuranus]

umm here for ask game. top 10 vegetables

Ok uhhhhh

1: broccoli is fantastic you can cook it all sortsa ways I like roasting it with a sweet chili glaze

2: Brussel sprouts when you cook em good, roast em up in some oil with bacon bits, cranberries, and honey, and got DAMN you have a good meal

3: fresh green beans roasted up are always great

4: fruits are actually a subset of vegetable so MANGOS I god damn love a good Mango, it's kinda hard to find good ones nowadays (I also haven't gone outta my way to get them in season much) but the good mangos I had when I was a kid were LIFE CHANGING

5: carrots sliced up and roasted in the oven are GREAT throw on all your basic seasonings with a bit of cinnamon sugar thrown in there, put em in the oven till the inside is completely softest the outside is crisp, that right there's just an easy french fry alternative. Vegetables are good for you and there's probably 20 different ones you can make taste like French fries. Eat ya veggies kids

6: hmmm running out of vegetables here lemme ask google... oh potatoes are vegetables, potatoes are god damn great im sure I dint have ti explain those

7: CUCUMERS, I love some persian cucumbers sliced into thin semicircles, pickled with grated carrot in lime juice, mirin, and sugar, then you toss that on with your chicken and rice, oouuuugghhhhhhh it's fucking good. It's just sushi with chicken instead of fish if you do the rice right. Mmmmmmm with some thai peanut chicken, god it's great

8: it looks like garlic is a vegetable so yeah I can get behind some garlic

9: alot of people don't like tomatoes but I feel like they add some much needed moisture and freshness to a burger/chicken sandwich, as long as they're cut thin and positioned right, they're really important to me in my burgers :3

10: mushrooms are low here because I LOVE the flavor they add to gravy, it's fucking fantastic, but I HATE the texture. It feels like fatty dead flesh in my mouth. Eating mushroom gravy on pork TASTES great but the mushrooms make my brain think I just bit into a big chunk of pork fat. And it Grosses me out. Now if you reeeeally dice em up, that's gonna get you some perfect delicious gravy!

And I guess that does it for my top 10 vegetables :3

#longpost #food

[pattern-recognition]

How does the stuff you make look so tasty? Makes me jealous.. I can cook basic stuff if barely (Stew, soup rice etc.) but even if I season it just doesn't hit

for the record all of my cooking is still really amateurish and there's nothing that I can tell you that couldn't be explained much more thoroughly by a chef with actual experience. That being said, here’s my novice opinions:

By “doesn’t hit” I feel like you’re probably not layering flavors very thoroughly. You can make a lot of really basic stuff hit completely different by riffing a bit with each component. For example, one of my staple foods is just a bowl of buckwheat or rice noodles, usually like a 15 minute or less meal but with countless ways to deepen flavor. You could start by making your own stock the day before, stock is the source of all good food, and already in the first ingredient you have a near infinite number of methods to make it rich and deep with flavor. From there you could make a homemade chili oil, perhaps some picked vegetables. You could choose what type of noodle you want, cook an egg in one of its dozens of forms, garnish with fragrant aromatics, ground (in a mortar and pestle and toasted beforehand, of course) spices, and fresh herbs. You could also incorporate many different premise condiments, like soy sauce, cooking wine, or black vinegar, into the final dish. Within every one of these components there lays the possibility to find flavors that compliment each other well, purposefully contrast in a satisfying way, or, perhaps most importantly, using the same ingredient in multiple incarnations to reveal its various shades. Garlic, for instance, is fantastic for this. Fried garlic tastes distinct from boiled garlic, and thus fresh, grated, pickled, aged, and roasted garlic as well. Many dishes will use multiple adaptations to reiterate one specific sensation from a variety of angles. Just like in every other art form, nuance is everything. It’s the subtext, the way the themes intermingle, the chords you can barely here under the bass and chorus that are what really culminate into an interesting whole.

Mucho texto aside though, use more butter. Seriously, restaurants use butter in fucking everything and way more than you think. Also, add a pinch more salt, most home chefs significantly under salt their food. Never be afraid of MSG, either, glutamates are what make everything taste good.

#anonymous #I don’t mean to insinuate you need to make everything by scratch tho I’m not a fucking food youtuber #nobody has time to be 100% extra

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #424

“got no superspeed, but i’m running this town”

What is the first line in the song you are currently listening to/last listened to? "I’m running out of time; I hope that I can save you somehow.” Are you an easy lay? Not in the slightest. What was the last reason you cried? Life and how inexplicably I'm failing at it. What’s hurting you right now? More like what isn't. Do you remember important dates? Only some. I'm awful with numbers. Do you own anything with the Playboy Bunny on it? No. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever played Gamecube? At a friend's house. Have you ever played with toy cars before? Yeah, with my nephew. He LOVES monster trucks. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh, definitely. I loved picking them up as a kid. What is your favorite kind of salad? Just plain 'ole iceberg lettuce with ranch, really. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? Holy hell no, I SUCK. What was/is your high school mascot? A firebird. Can you make cute little animals by folding paper? God no, I'm awful at origami. Like, I have zero concept of how to do it. What kind of music do you like? Various types of metal and rock. Do you like apple juice? Yeah. Do you like to draw? It's funny, like I do love it, but I barely ever do it because I get frustrated when I can't get what's in my head onto paper. What do you put on your french fries? Generally ketchup. How many people can comfortably sleep in your bed? Two. Do you want to have a big family in the future? I don't want kids, just pets. Probably a lot of pets. Is Vegas one of your must-see places? No. Pet rat: yay or nay? I've had multiple pet rats and I adore them. I've come to find I'm not the best at keeping rodents because changing the bedding so much sucks ass, but nevertheless they are fantastic pets for people who don't mind the maintenance. Would you call yourself a writer? Written any stories lately? Yes. I haven't written in a while, though. I just have absolutely zero motivation to RP. Are you good at reading people's body language? I probably overanalyze it, really. Ever threatened somebody and actually went through with it? I don’t threaten people. Does holding newborn babies scare you? Extremely. I feel like they're made of thin glass. Piercings: yay or nay? I LOVE piercings. They add an interesting touch to your appearance and to me just (usually) look super cool. There are very few piercings I don't like. Do you have a collage of pictures in your bedroom? No, but I want to make a motivation board very badly. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Were video games better in the 1980s, 1990s, or the 2000s? Why? '80s games bore me honestly, but I love some '90s and many 2000s games. I've got to say ultimately newer games win, because of graphics increasing immersion (no, I do not whatsoever believe graphics are everything or always make a better experience), voice acting improving immensely, etc. Have you ever watched The Beverly Hillbillies? Yes! Mom loves it so I used to watch it a lot with her as a kid. I'd still watch it. Did your mother ever sing lullabies to you when you were younger? Yes. Are you ready to get out of this town? I HATE THIS TOOOWN, IT'S SO WASHED UUU-UP, AND ALL MY FRIENDS DON'T GIVE A FUUU-UUUUUCK god hell yes get me the fuck out. Do you know anybody that is pregnant right now? Quite a few. What are you listening to? "Superluv” by Shane Dawson. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. Does your father have any facial hair? Yes. Did your grandparents teach you anything? My maternal grandmother, the only one I really ever knew, taught me I'm a disappointment, pretty much. And a bitch. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? It'd be nice to have one, but I don't, and I'm not pursuing it again. I've wasted enough of my parents' money. Are you into superheroes? Who’s your favourite? Not seriously, but I enjoy them well enough. I like Spider-Man. What did you have for dinner last night? Mom ordered Mexican. I had two shrimp and cheese quesadillas and rice with cheese. Do you think you look similar to your siblings? No. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Did you like it? Yeah, it's fun. Do you know your best friend’s middle name? Yes. Are you close to your father? I am. Have you ever had a serious conversation with your dad? Yeah. Would you rather have long or short hair? I enjoy having short hair way more. Who did you go/plan on going with to prom? I went with Jason twice. Have you ever been to a debate and speech tournament? Hell no, and I never would. Arguing makes me cry lmao. Are you someone who enjoys stand-up comedy? Yep. What’s one thing that scares you about living alone and being independent? A lot of things do, but one thing in specific that I fear is that I let the house become cluttered and messy. I'm so shit at cleaning, especially when I'm depressed. It's why my own bedroom isn't even fully decorated, and we've lived here since I wanna say last November. If someone offered you an all-expenses paid trip to one European country, where would you go and why? Germany, 'cuz I enjoy the culture and would love to try some foods and visit places. Have you ever won anything on the lottery? No. Are you interested in the World Cup? I couldn't possibly care less. What’s the longest time you’ve ever been on a plane for? Idk. Do you let your hair dry naturally or do you towel-dry it or blow dry it? I use a towel to dry it some, then let it really get the job done naturally. How many of the Harry Potter books have you read? None. Who last gave you their number? When I posted on Facebook about going on a mental health hiatus, my good friend Alon messaged me her number if I ever needed to talk. I was really thankful. Are you often the last one to understand a joke? Honestly yeah. I'm slow to grasp a lot of things. Your first black eye: Did you give it or get it? Never gotten or given one. Have you ever slept in a tent, indoors or out? Yes to both. Are you mad right now? I'm annoyed, but not mad. Are you allergic to nuts or dairy products? No. Has anyone ever called the cops on you? No. Do you ever actually drink milk alone? Yeah, I love milk. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? It is EXTREMELY sensitive. What was the last situation to upset you? I'd rather not talk about it. Have you ever had an online argument? I have been heavily active on the Internet since I was like, 11. Maybe younger. I have been in plenty. Are you at risk for any medical issues? A lot of heart problems run in my family. I'm also suspicious I may develop diabetes, which also runs very heavily in my family. What were you doing at 7:00 a.m.? Surprisingly, I was asleep. Do you own a robe? No. What would you consider your life to be? A wreck. What is your favorite mark of punctuation? I like question marks. Who knows your biggest secret? Nobody. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? Probably not. How do you know? I just doubt it. I'm so unlikable right now. Could you go a day without eating? I don't think I could. I do not react to stomach pain well, and that includes when I'm hungry. How many bracelets do you have on your wrists right now? None. What’s your favorite drink? Strawberry Sunkist, but I don't allow myself to have it. I will DESTROY a can or five of it. Who was the last person that texted you? My mom. What are you craving? Nothing really right now. What was the first thing you ate today? An everything bagel. What was the last type of meat you ate? Pork. Have you taken any medication today? Yeah, I take some prescription meds in the morning and at night. Have you ever been to Hawaii? No, but that'd be cool. Do you know anyone who has diabetes? My mom, for one. Have you ever made a boy cry? Sadly. Who are you talking to? Nobody. Do you think you’ve ruined your chances with someone? Absolutely. Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents are divorced, and I stayed with Mom. Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color/racial background? I couldn't care less. For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy? For others, absolutely. It's your right. For me myself, it's possible, idk. If I was God forbid raped, I probably would have an abortion. If I accidentally got pregnant in a healthy relationship, I'd probably have a "too bad, so sad" outlook where I'd suck it up and go through with the gestation because having sex and risking pregnancy was my own decision. Even if I'm pro-choice, I think I'd feel too guilty aborting, especially with the child being someone's I love. Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other (via phone, text, in person, whatever)? IF I had an s/o, no. I like to, but sometimes you just want space. Are you fetish-friendly? I'm not gonna lie, some fetishes are just too fucking weird for me. I TRY not to judge, because I doubt you can actually help fetishes, but I inevitably do sometimes. If you're asking would I engage in fetishes because my s/o liked them, possibly, but it would really depend on what it is. Have you ever cosplayed? No. I think cosplay is really cool, though. Do you support the exploration of outer space? If yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet? As creatures who crave knowledge and understanding of our universe, I do support space exploration, but I do NOT believe we should be spending as much money as we do on it. Taking care of the planet we're actually on is far more important imo. I wouldn't personally go to outer space. Is it okay for men to wear makeup? What’s your opinion of male crossdressers? It's totally okay! Guys with makeup can be super attractive. Crossdressers, too. Go for it. You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners. Does that sound like a lot to you? For me personally, yes. I don't even know if I'd date someone with 14 past sexual partners, honestly. I would admittedly question their loyalty. Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity? No. If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?” would you know the answer right away? I would. What is your opinion concerning strip clubs? Not my scene at all, but so long as you respect the dancers, whatever. You do you.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''superluv'' by shane dawson

[oftenderweapons]

The Conversations - part 3/3

Characters: Hoseok, Taehyung

Wordcount: 2.2k words

Genre: slice of life, discussion of NSFW topics, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello readers! I’m back and I bear gifts!

This is the final installment for The Conversations. In this piece Tae and Hobi discuss their relationships with their girlfriend, Lace -- Tae’s gf -- and Giggles -- Hobi’s --, sharing some spicy details and offering each other advice. Since I consider them the “freakiest” among the guys, do expect some TMI. 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: so much BDSM I had to read a handbook, impact play and dedicated objects, bondage and restrictions, themes of domination and submission, use of safeword and mentions of subspace. Voyeurism and exhibitionism, adult clubs and dungeons, public sex, masturbation and oral sex. Blindfold, powerplay, roleplay. Mentions of a sextape... :’) (also hints of a possibly angsty Namjoon future fic, I had to.) 

Wordcount: 2.2k

And here is my masterlist :)

Enjoy!

“Hey hyung, sorry for last night.” Taehyung said, sitting beside Hoseok at the lunch table in the common room.

“It’s okay, no biggie.” Hoseok already had a bright smile on, warm and honestly unbothered by the event.

“I didn’t knew Giggles was at your’s.” Taehyung opened his lunch, starting to analyse the various boxes and cups.

“Yeah,” Hobi’s ears turned reddish. “It was a surprise for me too.”

“How is it going?” Tae cheered as he found the main course. Beside him Hoseok stirred his noodles.

“It’s great. She’s fantastic. How about Lace?”

“She’s doing great. We’re doing great.” Taehyung looked around a little to see if anyone could possibly overhear. “We experimented with a riding crop. Best decision of my life.”

Hoseok laughed out loud, smashing his free hand enthusiastically against the table. “Glad to know. Giggles prefers the paddle. Or my hands. But yeah, Lace gives crop vibes.”

“She’s a huge freak.” Tae took some kimchi, mixing it with his rice. His mouth still half full, he muttered. “But I guess I am, too.”

“As long as she likes that there’s nothing wrong.” He too took a bite of his own food. “Wanna share?”

“What? No.” Tae filled his mouth some more. “I mean, I have to ask Lace first.”

“I mean the food, you pervert.” Hoseok bent over his dish, “though I guess nor Lace nor Giggles would oppose.”

“God, Lace is such an exhibitionist.” Tae said, motioning to his side dish and inviting Hobi to take what he liked.

Hobi also put his smaller boxes in the middle. “And you’re a voyeur, which works just fine.”

“Match made in heaven. Does Giggles like it too?”

“She likes it enough. But, she’s not that visual. She prefers focusing on other senses.”

“I kinda reckoned.” Taehyung remembered the previous night, when he’d endlessly knocked on Hobi’s apartment door only to have his hyung come to the door half undressed, faux leather pants on, his forehead sweaty. Behind him, Tae could recognise a woman -- well, Giggles -- fully naked, sitting on a chair, wearing nothing but a blindfold. And several feet of rope.

“Freak.” Deadpanned Hoseok.

“What about you, freak?” Tae also stirred his noodles, enjoying the steam coming from them together with the heavy smell of soy sauce and fried peppers.

“Do you want me to say I enjoy having her at my mercy, nothing but a blabbering mess, incapable of getting away or understanding what’s going to happen to her?” Hoseok was overly descriptive on that. “Because yes, I do.”

“So not only blindfolded but also tied up?”

“If she’s not behaving, then yes.” Hoseok suddenly looked stern.

“I bet she doesn’t behave much.”

“At all.” Hoseok smirked. “I think I should change her punishment to something she enjoys less.”

“Lace hates not touching me.” Tae fits a huge meat roll in his mouth.

“Giggles is not bothered, as long as I’m touching her. She needs to feel some sort of an anchor, a safety line, so to say.”

“Well, I’d need one too if I were tied up and in the dark.” His mind wandered back to one of his first times with Lace, when he’d let her cover his eyes with a thick silk scarf tied behind his head, his body at her mercy, as she observed him and touched him without him knowing where she’d land her attack, without his intense gaze following her every movement and making her flustered. She had confessed feeling free, unjudged. Not that he would ever judge her, but he knew that he would feel conscious too if he were the one in the spotlight, were the roles to be reversed. He knew he would feel freer without his lover looking at him, analysing where his attention gravitated. But this happened at the beginning, when they were still learning. Now their most pressing need is watching each other. 

“Well. Once it got bad. She got into subspace. Only time she used her safeword. That’s why we don’t use handcuffs anymore.” Hoseok’s face was instantly dull. He still tortured himself for what had happened that one time. The look in Giggle's eyes as he let her wrists free, the angry red marks on her skin showing the indentations of the metal. The way she had seemed so broken, so lost. And the heavy tears falling on his chest as she hid in his form, clinging to him.

"Just once? Me and Lace had to use them a couple times. Both of us. Sometimes she's not in the right mindset and she asks me to stop and cuddle her. Sweetest thing in the universe." His eyes turn dreamy. "After her taste, obviously."

Hoseok laughs and punches him lightly. "TMI, bro."

"Come on, if Giggles tasted that sweet you would boast too."

"I'd rather keep that honey all to myself."

"Greedy." Taehyung poured himself some cola, watching it fizzle before downing it in one go. "By the way, do you have any good role play suggestion? I'm thinking of surprising her during the weekend but I'm so tired I can barely think."

"Strangers at the hotel. Book a room, meet at the lobby and then go upstairs to fuck like bunnies?" Hobi said it without even thinking. 

"Done that."

"It's a classic. Giggles loves it. She fucks me like a slut." He snickered softly, nothing but dark mischief in his voice, but also undying fondness for his beloved.

"And that's TMI." Tae quips.

"You asked."

"Yeah, fair."

"Maid and master. Or butler and madame. You pick." Hobi drank some Sprite directly from the bottle.

"Cliché." Taehyung tutted and proceeded with his meal. “I don’t know. Not really.”

"Artist and muse? I don't know man, you're super picky." It came out with his typically whiny intonation, his tone a rollercoaster as he got deeper into thought.

Taehyung stayed quiet for a few minutes, mulling over the possibility. “Could do.”

The other man slurped in his noodles, finishing them and sipping the soup. “So, roleplay, uh?”

“It makes me feel freer. Like I’m not V from BTS. Like I’m just a boy who loves his girl.”

Hobi nodded. “You don’t know the incredible amount of places I wish I could fuck Giggles.”

Tae clapped his hands and laughed. “Like that one time at the restaurant. Damn, you disappeared for half an hour.”

Hoseok stood up to discard his container, then sat down again. In the meantime he reminisced. How Giggles had smiled mysteriously at him, holding his hand and carefully taking him away from the main scene, into a corridor and then to the restroom. He remembered how she’d palmed him heavily, how he’d cum in her mouth after five minutes of her devoted ministrations. He remembered how Giggles had fingered herself as she was sucking him, waiting for him to be done so he would crouch down, bunch up her skirt and eat her out until her eyes crossed and her legs quivered, lost in ecstasy.

“Sometimes I wished I could just get lost somewhere like in an alley or drive off in the countryside and get it all loose.” Hoseok huffed quietly as he cleaned after his meal, grabbing an half empty tube of ice cream and setting it on the table, again sitting beside Tae. “Make her take off her panties while we’re out for dinner. Do her against the mirror in the elevator.”

“The one back at the dorms...” Tae arched an eyebrow, nodding knowingly.

“Yeah. Or like… Go to a club and just finger her on the dancefloor. Or in a dark nook.” His eyes crinkled shut.

“I get it. People knowing you sucks sometimes. Lace and I wanted to go to one of those... dungeons? Or maybe like an adult club. One of those places where you can perform in front of a crowd. Try some real exhibitionism. And some serious bondage.” Taehyung finished his own meal, discarding the finished cups and plates and grabbing a spoon to share the ice cream.

“Like, shibari?” Hobi asked, making eye contact with his friend.

“Yeah, why not.” Tae shrugged. “Lace would be interested. We’ve done mild things before and she enjoyed, but those are things you need to learn with an expert and just thinking of all the things that could go wrong makes me shiver.” He took a big mouthful of ice cream, almost freezing his brain in the process.

“I took an online course. Kinda fun.” Hoseok smiled and turned a bit shy. “Giggles was ecstatic. We learned some extra knots together, from a book our teacher recommended. She’s a keen student. Very dedicated.” He exploded in bubbly laughter.

“Would you let her tie you up?” Tea asked.

“I don’t know if she wants to, but I would let her.” Hobi blushed. “I wouldn’t mind. She’s talented. And disciplined. Very careful and diligent. I know I would be in good hands. What about you?”

“I’ve already let Lace tie me up.” Taehyung was absolutely confident, his voice neutral. “I enjoy letting her manhandle me every now and then.” He shrugged again, blowing his cheeks and rubbing at his chin. “She can do that. Honestly, she did take some lessons and taught me a few things. We explore a lot together.” At this, his eyes moved to the floor, a bit flustered. Lace knew his body like no one else in the world. He had spent years living in it and getting to know it, but his girlfriend had put body and soul into exploring him, memorising every small tell, every little quirk and sweet spot. Lace had unravelled him in a couple weeks, studying his anatomy with a maniacal precision. And when he allowed her to take control of him, her knowledge showed. Her fingers could draw endless pleasure, keeping him on his toes for hours and then making him explode like fireworks. But the most important thing was the way she had learned to soothe him, to care after him, her affection like balm to his bitter moods and darkest nights.

“Glad for you.” Hoseok gave him a pat on the shoulder, drawing him in for a hug.

Taehyung was getting ready to leave. “I got to talk to Namjoon. He’s giving me feedback on some lines in English. By the way, have you heard of him and Vixen?”

“What?”

“Had a fight. He’s hell-bent on making it up to her.” Tae scrunched his nose. “Guk sorta walked in on them in the studio the other day. I don’t know if they made up.”

Hoseok pouted. “Joon temper’s sucks. Boy got some pent up pressure and he’s gonna blow a fuse someday or other. Plus Vixen’s no saint.”

“She holds him accountable for his bullshit. Takes good care of him. Plus, man, she’s a keeper.”

“Truly.” Hobi thought back to the sparks between her and Namjoon everytime they’re together. If that wasn’t love, then he didn’t know what it could ever be. Probably it was the way Giggles searched for his hand when she was afraid, the way she always looked at him when she found something funny, or that small breath she held every time he said her name. Or even the way he needed to bury his nose in her neck when he needed to rest. How he always put his hand on the small of her back when he needed her at his side, when he looked for support and protection.

Taehyung already had his hand on the handle of the kitchen’s door when Hoseok stopped him. “How do you store your… stuff, with Lace?”

“You mean what? Toys? Porn? Pics?”

The older huffed. God, he’s really shameless. “Your vids?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. That stuff. I assume you’re not hiding it from her?”

“I was thinking of shooting something. I need safe storage.” Hoseok rubbed at his forehead, crossing his arms.

“Avoid phones. Worst thing. Get yourself a good camera and a decent memory card. Like 72GB. Keep all the stuff in the memory card or pen drive. Lace and I have it in our bedside table. Never keep stuff on the phone or in cloud.” He pointed a finger towards Hoseok for emphasis. “I would recommend an action camera, which is practical like a phone but safer. But if you do use a phone, no connection, no wifi, nothing. Just a phone used like a good ol' camera. Move all the stuff away as soon as you’re done.”

“Yeah, that was sort of a given..” Hobi nodded. “So, a camera? Suggestions?”

“Depends? Handheld or tripod?” Taehyung asked, checking his phone.

“You know me. Hands on my girl, and I like shifting a lot.”

“Tripod. Definitely. I’ll send you some links for reference tonight. Enjoy.”

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts headcanon #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #hoseok imagine #hobi imagine #hoseok reaction #hobi reaction #taehyung imagine #taehyung reaction #hoseok one shot #taehyung one shot #bts conversation

[puppywritings]

about me tag

i was tagged by @jenojam tysm vina!! 🥰

rules: fill in the info and tag ppl you wanna know better

name/nickname: william or will mostly, some ppl call me willy, i used to get billy but nobody's called me that in a long time

gender: male

star sign: cancer sun, aquarius moon, sagittarius rising

height: about 5'8/173cm

time: 14:30

birthday: 21st june

favourite bands: nct, stray kids, shinee, bigbang, day6, red velvet, twice, itzy, exo, my chemical romance, the front bottoms

favourite solo artists: eric nam, alexa, jamie park, hyuna, chungha, billie eilish

song stuck in my head: dream of you by chungha

last movie i watched: spirited away

last tv show i watched: the office (us version)

when i created this blog: july 2018 i think? it'll be 3 years old this summer!!

last thing i googled: "whiskey pods" lmao i heard about them on tiktok

other blogs: @puppywilliam (personal where i rb stuff and talk shit), @doyounglover (my fic recs blog)

do i get asks? occasionally!! i wish i got more i love interacting w ppl✨

following: 239

followers: 1.7k

why i chose my url: i honestly don't remember. i think it was just the first thing that came to my head

average hours of sleep: about 10

lucky number: 23

instruments: umm i played the recorder from age 8-11? 😭

what i'm wearing: joggers and a skz jumper,, its a lockdown fit ok i'm dressing cozy

dream trip: bruh i wanna go to so many places. i went to paris when i was 14 and i'm dying to to back w my bf!! we also wanna visit italy and greece. i'd love to go skiing again too so maybe back to the alps!! i went to the austrian alps when i was younger but i'd love to visit anywhere in that area

favourite food: hmm i have a lot. beans, sausage rolls, ramen, egg fried rice, pizza (but without cheese lmao)

nationality: british

favourite song: my all time favourites are regular by nct, excuse me miss by shinee & fantastic bastards by death spells

top 3 fictional universes: naruto, harry potter (fuck jkr tho) aand probably durarara

tagging: @spookyhyuck @lucas-wongs @sly-merlin @immabiteyou @ncteaxhoe @neonun-au @joh--pping @byunbaekby @donkey-hyuck & anyone else who wants to (sorry if u alr did it!!) 💖

#tag games #william.txt

[storiesforallfandoms]

bon appetit ~ david dobrik

word count: 1646

request?: yes!

“Hiya! Can you write about David in the BA test kitchen, but instead of Carla, Y/N is filming with him? Thanks 😇🧡”

description: david may not like seafood, but he really likes the bon appetit host, so he decides to cook seafood with her to impress her, however it doesn’t exactly go as he plans

pairing: david dobrik x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

David’s eyes almost widened as the host for Bon Appetit’s ”Back to Back Chef” approached him as he entered their filming kitchen. She was a young girl, about his age, and she was absolutely adorable, wearing a grey apron and her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

“Hey! You must be David!” she said, extending a hand to David. “I’m (Y/N), I’ll be hosting the video with you today.”

“It’s nice to meet you (Y/N),” David said, shaking her hand. “Are you, like, an actual chef? Like graduated school and everything? You’re so young!”

(Y/N) laughed. “Yeah, I’m an actual chef. I’m not long graduated culinary school, actually. I have a friend who works with Bon Appetit and they were gracious enough to hire me fresh out of school. I do mainly video for younger audiences, like videos with well known YouTubers, couple simple recipe videos or baking videos.”

“That’s so cool!” David said. He tried not seem as flustered as he felt, but it was hard when he was looking down at this absolutely beautiful woman, whose smile was so bright it was infectious. “So, what are we making today?”

“It’s a surprise. Go put an apron on, we’ll start filming.”

David did a mock salute, causing (Y/N) to laugh again, before he went off to grab an apron that matched hers.

The cameras and the food was already set up, so all that needed to be done was for the cameras to start rolling. When David was ready to go, they started filming. (Y/N) smiled brightly at the camera as she started.

“Hey guys! It’s (Y/N), and I’m here in the Bon Appetit test kitchen today with David Dobrik - ”

She paused as she motioned towards David. He waved to the camera and greeted, “Hi guys!”

“ - and today we’ve got our usual 20 minutes to make Vietnamese style summer rolls, and we’re gonna see how David does following along with me through verbal instructions only.”

David tried not to let the dread show on his face, especially not with the cameras rolling. Of course, they food they were preparing was seafood, and David hated seafood.

You don’t have to eat it, he thought to himself. Just cook it, and do a good job cooking it so you can impress the cute chef.

After a quick introduction, the two of them turned back to back and started their cooking. (Y/N) sounded so professional as she told him what to do, and behind him he could hear her already miles ahead on the recipe than he was.

As he twisted the head off of a shrimp, as instructed, and gagged as the smell of seafood filled his nose. “I hate seafood.”

“Really?!” (Y/N) asked in shock.

“Yeah, it’s my least favourite.”

“Well shit, we picked the wrong recipe then, didn’t we?” (Y/N) laughed. “It’s whatever, you don’t have to eat it. I’ll be the one trying yours, I can also eat my own or give it to someone else who’s here.”

“This is so gross,” David said as he cut the shrimp with a pair of scissor. “You know what this feels like?”

“What does it feel like?” (Y/N) asked.

“It feels like I promised a girl I was going to make dinner for her, and I lied, and now I have a chef in my ear helping me out with the date as she’s sitting in the room watching me.”

“Have you done that before?” (Y/N) asked him after giving him the next step of the recipe.

“I haven’t, no. I usually let girls know I’m an awful cook before dates so they don’t get their hopes up about cooking. Has a guy ever tried to do that to you before?”

“Only once, it was early on in my college years and I met this guy through Tinder and I guess he didn’t read my bio cause I had written that I was in school for culinary arts and he offered to make me something to eat and claimed he was the best cook ever and he was like a chef in the making.”

“What was he really?”

“A McDonald’s employee.” The two laughed together. “Like he had absolutely no idea what he was doing and I could tell. I didn’t say anything the whole date until the end, where I said, ‘your cooking was good, but as a culinary chef in training, I’m a little offended that you lied and said you were a chef in the making but couldn’t even made something as simple as fries from potatoes’. Needless to say, we both agreed not to go on a second date.”

“Okay, noted. Don’t tell you I’ll cook for you on a date.”

(Y/N) stopped a moment, David’s words causing her to falter a little. She could barley remember what they were doing or what step she was on. She stared at the shrimp in her hand for a long time, trying to remember what to do. Behind her, David was smirking at his ability to render her speechless.

They continued to cook together, but David noted the slight stutter (Y/N) had now, and her tendency to forget what she was doing or what step was next. He was hoping this was a good thing, and that he didn’t just make things totally awkward by making a joke about them going out on a date.

The mood lightened as (Y/N) and David began making jokes back and forth while they cooked, and she seemed to be coming back to how she was before.

“You’re a natural at this it seems,” (Y/N) commented as they were coming to the end of the recipe. “You’ve been following really well, do you think yours is gonna come out well?”

“I definitely do,” David said. “It looks pretty good, for seafood.”

“I love seafood, how do you expect us to go on a date when you’re gonna judge me for wanting seafood?”

It was (Y/N)’s turn to smirk at the lack of a response from David. She giggled to herself as she began to set up the plate for the reveal they were about to do. “Okay, reveal in three, two, one.”

(Y/N) burst into laughter as she looked at David with a rice paper wrapper on his face, like a face mask. He smiled and took it off his face, happy to get a laugh out of her.

“Yours looks so good,” (Y/N) said, marvelling at his cooking. “It’s almost exactly like mine, it just looks a little messier on the inside but that’s fine it’ll taste the same.”

The cameras cut long enough for the two to set up their trying station. David eyed the summer rolls nervously, wondering if he wanted to taste them or not. The two sat down and the camera was rolling again.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) reminded him. “I wanna try yours though and tell you how you did.”

“I’ll try it, but I want you to try mine first so I can gain the courage to eat it,” David joked.

(Y/N) chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes before taking one of David’s summer rolls and dipping it into the dipping sauce on the place. She took a bite and a smile came across her face, accompanied by a delightful moan.

“They’re so good!” (Y/N) said. “For someone who says he can’t cook, you did fantastic with these.”

“Thank you!”

David picked up one of (Y/N)’s summer rolls and took a big bite out of it. He chewed the roll in his mouth for some time, feeling himself beginning to gag from the taste of both seafood and mango. He eyed (Y/N), who was watching him with an amused smile, before he quickly stood and raced for the garbage can behind him while (Y/N) burst out laughing.

“(Y/N), that was fucking delicious!” David exclaimed, causing (Y/N) to laugh even more.

When the video ended, a crew came to start cleaning up the kitchen. (Y/N) and David discarded their aprons and helped to clean up the mess the best they could.

“I can’t believe you ate that,” (Y/N) commented with a slight chuckle. “You know you didn’t have to, we could’ve given it to someone else.

“I wanted to,” David shrugged. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad. I think it was mainly the texture I didn’t like too much, plus the taste of the mango with it. It was weird.”

“Both mango and seafood can be an acquired taste,” (Y/N) agreed.

They were both silent for some time. The cleaning was long over, and it was time for David to go and start filming for his own vlog. He awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair as he stood in front of (Y/N), who was looking up at him in an almost expectant way. David wasn’t really sure what to say, or how to say what he wanted to say.

“I had a really great time today,” he started, lamely. “It was a lot of fun, even if I didn’t really like the food.

“I had a good time, too!” (Y/N) responded. “Maybe...we could do this again...but like without the cameras?”

David almost sighed in relief that she made the first move. It meant that she actually wanted to, and he wasn’t about to shoot his shot and be rejected.

“I’d love that,” he said. “Are you doing anything tomorrow? You could come over and teach me how to cook something we both like at my place. Just send me the recipe and I can pick up the stuff.”

(Y/N) smiled brightly. “I’d love that.”

“It’s a date then.”

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik x reader #the vlog squad #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #vlog #imagine #one shot #request

[rebelliouslala]

A Beauty and a Beast

requested by anon seriously thank you this is my first request

(suggestive, slight angst, Model!Jinyoung, Manager!reader, 1.5k words I tried making it as long as possible but also short lol)

Grey smoke drifts into your nose, filling your nose until your eyes water and twitch. Your phone buzzes with messages in your back pocket. You had no time to deal with people, especially those from every magazine, every drama wanted Korea’s biggest model. “Is my bulgogi kimchi fried rice here yet?” He taps the leftover cigarette ashes into the tiny platter beneath, an eyebrow raised.

“Hm?” You’re brought out of your thoughts, and you widen your eyes, and bow your head.

Park Jinyoung scoffs, taking in a deep inhale of his cigarette, until his words are traced out with smoke, “I knew you weren’t listening. Captivated by my beauty, huh?”

“S-sorry,” you apologize quickly, bowing and making the note, calling quickly. Not only were you his manager, but you were his new girlfriend. Tending at his every whim.

“I want an egg with it too, last time you forgot.” He watches you grab your phone, clicking away all of the other desperate calls for him, “Get me some more cigarettes too, Manager-nim.”

You go outside, face growing red with embarrassment. That is the last thing you needed him to see. Not only could you be fired for being incompetent with every request he had, you were even making out with the treasure of Korea.

With a sigh to push the thoughts away, you end the call, leaning on the wall as your eyes close. He is treating you specially. Usually it was the stylists that had to deal with his brat-like behavior, yet either way it didn’t take away the fact of your belief on how this beauty could possibly harm something.

Going back to serving him, you find his absence in the makeup room. His cigarette had been dragged out for the ashes to shape a heart as a signature. You jog to the studio, where the model wore a revealing fishnet shirt, and his eyes coated in black eye shadow, lips a pure white. His long evening black skirt drapes to his ankles. He looks like a wayward demon, coming to take you away.

And once again you fell in love with him. His wavy hair covering his eyes. How he effortlessly looked to the side, jawline sharp. His plump lips contort in a snarl, making some of the stylists sigh, clutching their supplies closer.

The director commands the photographer to take more photos as Jinyoung takes his persona, even raising his arms to reveal his toned abs, but the sight stops down by the wood brown belt he wore with the skirt.

“Jinyoung, you’re doing amazing,” the photographer whispers, “How about a romance picture?”

He sits up, and looks at you. You didn’t realize how frozen you were, at his talent, at his aura, everything. He smirks, his bright contact green eyes shifting before landing back on you, devouring you whole as his eyebrow raises.

Jinyoung became the beast before you.

𓆙

“Bulgogi kimchi fried rice, and a pack of cigarettes. That’s all I asked for, Miss Y/N.”

You groan quietly in his grip on your waist tightened, stopping your grinding.

He had you where he wanted. His eyes search, slowly over your face until he lands on your lips. “And yet you forgot to get someone down there. I didn’t get my food, baby.”

“I-I’m so sorry, p-please,” you say softly, and he grabs your cheeks now, “Should I not get something else in return?”

“You should!” You stutter out, and he leans in, smirking, “Like?”

“A-Anything you like, sir.” You murmur out his name, feeling yourself tear up from being so tiny around his bulging arms. He loved this game, yet seeing you cry always brought him back to reality.

“How about I get a kiss? We’ve been dating for a week, Manager-nim.” he whispers in your ear. His breath is cold, sending more shivers down your body. He holds you even closer as you whisper frantically, “W-We’re in your makeup room! Anyone can—!”

He strokes your cheek, a sneaky smirk on his face. “Not if you keep quiet, Y/N.” The way he perfectly said your name only pulls you towards him. She dove into your lips, attacking you by biting on your bottom lip before stopping, looking at you evilly as he slowly and excruciatingly licked it.

A mewl of his name erupts out of you as your entire body gets hot immediately, “J-Jinyoung,” you say like it’s your last. His hand travels to your thighs, tracing patterns you couldn’t make out. His quiet exhales, being revealed as he continues to bruise your lips to a light purple.

You whimper, shutting your eyes from the teasing, “F-Fuck Jinyoung,” You hold the back of his hair, tugging at it to signal his fantastic job of turning you on.

He pulls away with a smirk, while you chase his lips.

“J-Jinyoung,” you say, almost as if starved for his touch, “Please,”

“Keep apologizing, baby.” He leans back, watching you hold him closer.

You kiss his lips, without hesitation, letting his lipstick get on your own, smudging it as you softly mumble, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so so sorry Jinyoung.”

He only chuckles and kisses back deeply, when you moan his name in his mouth, he slips his tongue inside, only making you more hungry. He picks you up onto his thigh, letting you grind slowly. “How funny, weren’t you that little manager that confessed to me with a love letter?” He says sarkly in your ear.

“Jinyoung~,” you whine, kissing his moving lips.

He circles your area, with a lazy finger, “Now look at you. Funny how the tables have—,”

The doorknob shakes, and you and he are apart before the door opens. You fix his lipstick, looking at him with a frown, pursing your own lips, “Sir, I’m sorry but you messed your makeup.”

“Sorry, I had been waiting tirelessly, for some food.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his fib as there is a soft cough. “L/N Y/N, we need you.”

That slick voice. You freeze.

You were almost caught by your boss.

Turning around with a quick, deep bow, you laugh nervously, “JYP! Oh my god I’m so sorry! Please—!”

“This way, please.” You look up from your deep bow, and nod. Following him back to the studio, you hear his small whispers, “They can’t use his photos.”

You widen your eyes, “W-What?”

“The director and photographer looked it over and they won’t. . .they won’t use it.”

Scoffing you go to the camera, “I want to see them, no way. He’s amazing at visuals, at dancing, at singing. They even requested for him!” You fail to turn the camera on so you slam it down, and grab a photo behind JYP’s back.

A blur on his skin. Pale lips as a detail. Eyes burning through you. Clothing miraculously glowing like light. Hand outstretched to the camera, holding it cockily.

“Why is this not enough?”

JYP sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “They said they found another model, and if so, they want him to show less skin. That the clothing looked too, weird on him.”

“Are you serious?” you scoff, holding your hair as you slam down the photos. “We don’t need these photos I’ll tell—,”

Your heart drops at the sound of Jinyoung’s profanities and the crack of wood breaking before the director runs out, his face an entire strawberry pink.

“MOTHERFUCKER- YOU THINK YOU CAN USE ME?! FUCk YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!”

You open the door, to have something fly past your short hair and slam into the wall next to your right ear.

Jinyoung’s usually even kept hair is frayed, and his mouth is turned in a snarl. “SHOW LESS SKIN! I’LL SHOW YOU SOME SKIN, MOON! MAYBE YOU NEED TO—!”

“Jinyoung!” You hiss, shutting the door behind you and holding his face. He thrashes and he growls at you, “Jinyoung,” he mocks, “Jinyoung calm down! You don’t fucking know how I feel!” You whimper as he grabs your arms, standing up and leading you to the mirror. He takes off his shirt in a motion, pointing at his stomach, and he holds his head, “You have no idea the standards I have to go through.”

He grips his hair, laughing loudly, obnoxiously, “I lost, so, so much weight. Today was my one cheat day. And now that’s even ruined!”

“STOP IT!” You pull away, tears starting to form. “I know the exact fucking feeling.”

You both stare at each other, a slight pant coming out of you, as you feel yourself collapse into a kneel, your head hanging. “I know you want me to agree, be your little doll. And I’m trying, baby, I really am.”

You look up, sniffling, “I can get you something else. Just please,” you sit up, to kiss at the corner of his lips, “Please my love, calm down.”

He pants softly, and he melts in your arms, hugging you tightly, bringing to his height.

“This has to stop. You’re beautiful in every way. If I can’t convince you, then you need to—,”

Jinyoung kisses you deeply, and you feel liquid softly drip down. Softly, slowly, like a faucet accidentally running.

You sighed into his kiss, kissing him back. Your first encounter with Beast Jinyoung, and you seemed to tame him. “J—?”

“Thank you.” he says against your lips, before he pulls away.

Only to slam you against the door, locking it with a smirk.

“Mm, how can I ever repay you, babygirl?”

#ultkpop #ykn #got7 #got7 jinyoung #park jinyoung #dee writes

[megabadbunny]

Cartography and Ritual Observation

In all the time that she plotted and worked and strove for a happy ending, Rose realizes, she had planned for all manner of contingencies and failures. She never actually figured out what she would do if she succeeded. (She never actually planned to be happy.)  

* lemon-free version on fanfiction.net *

***

She never expected to see the Doctor in her universe, in her living room, in her flat. Yet, here he is. 

(Here they both are.)

The Doctor is eager to inspect everything the moment they get in from Norway, peeking inside Rose’s bedrooms and her bath, opening the refrigerator and cabinet doors, inspecting the light fixtures, overturning the few knickknacks she has accumulated in her time here. His fingers glide over everything; impossibly, Rose has almost forgotten how much he sees with his hands. He listens to her house tour with rapt attention and she can see him filing every detail of her home away.

Rose doesn’t keep much food in the cottage, so she orders some takeaway and pretends to eat it while the Doctor tucks in. She’s too unsettled to eat properly, for reasons she can’t quite explain. She turns on the telly and they watch it for a bit—it’s a “documentary” on aliens, naturally—and Rose tries not to think about the weirdness of this situation, the mundane bizarreness or strange normalcy of it all, while she plucks out and eats all of the shrimp in her fried rice. The Doctor keeps up a running commentary on the film’s inaccuracies and Rose smiles, remembering how they used to do this on the TARDIS just a few years ago.

It’s almost disturbing, how easy it is for Rose to pretend that everything’s all right—except it isn’t pretend at all, is it? Everything is all right, just not the sort of all right she’d imagined, not the kind she’d planned and worked and hoped for. But her dislike of having decisions made on her behalf (yet again) notwithstanding, she can’t deny that she ended up with a pretty good deal. A fantastic deal, even; she got everything she wanted, and more besides—the Doctor, with her, and her family and her friends and her home, and the promise of adventures in the TARDIS once more, all in the same universe again. Which, as brilliant as it is, still doesn’t answer the question niggling in the background-noise of her consciousness, growing ever-louder by the minute:

What now?

For the first time in four years, the next step is completely unknown. It’s as if, upon arriving at her destination, someone ripped the guidebook out of Rose’s hands and set it on fire right in front of her. There’s no longer any map, no itinerary, no plan. And how the fuck is Rose supposed to deal with that?

Rose’s hands long to fidget, but she forces them still, locks her leg to keep her foot from tapping impatiently. She’s doing a magnificent job, she thinks, of looking like a normal person, one who isn’t about to vibrate right out of her skin with the utter need to just get up and complete the next step of the plan already. Whatever that next step may be.

Glancing sidelong at the Doctor, Rose wonders what, besides factual inaccuracies about aliens, might be going through his head right now. If he feels Rose’s gaze heavy on him, he doesn’t say, too busy glowering at the images of the Great Pyramid of Giza flashing across the telly because according to the documentary, humans only could have built the Pyramid with the help of aliens, but according to the alien in the room, that’s a bunch of hogwash, and all that business was 100% ancient Egypt, 100% of the time; I didn’t offer so much as a tidbit of advice on the construction, only popped by long enough to nab a snack from Khufu’s coronation, you can’t beat a pomegranate grown in the cradle of the Nile. At any rate, he doesn’t look worried about plans or the future, or indeed, anything that happened fewer than 4500 years ago. Rose wonders if she should snuggle up to him, for the simple comfort of it and also just because she can, just like she used to. She remembers when she would tuck in close on the settee in the TARDIS library under the feeble pretense of being cold; the Doctor would tut at her cold hands and feet and snag her a blanket, toss it over her. But he wouldn’t make her move. He’d still wrap an arm around her shoulders, wouldn’t budge if she nestled against his side.

(She had always wondered, then, how long the sense of normalcy would last if she had leaned up to press a kiss to his throat or his cheek or his mouth, if she had tried something more. She never found out. She never did try.)

They watch another film after that, and another, and finally, just when Rose is starting to wonder if he won’t need sleep to speak of in this body either, the Doctor stretches and lets out a yawn.

“I’m a bit knackered,” he announces. “But I suppose a metacrisis-regeneration will do that to you.”

After the two of them wash up for the night, there’s a brief, awkward question of which bedroom he’ll sleep in. But before Rose has to make a decision—put him in the spare room, or offer to share hers? Would offering the spare room make her seem cold and aloof, would offering her room make him feel claustrophobic?—the Doctor opens the door of the guest bed, deciding for her.

“Well,” says Rose, only a little awkwardly. But before she can say Good night, the Doctor surprises her by reaching out and pulling her in for a kiss.

It’s a very short kiss, but Rose’s brain still goes fuzzy and she’s warm everywhere he touches her, heat blossoming from his mouth, from his fingers on her shoulders, sliding down into her belly. He pulls her in close, her chest against his, and he’s so much warmer than before, so warm she can feel the heat of him even through both of their shirts. His lips part in millimeters and she can taste peppermint on his breath, the not-unpleasant reminders of toothpaste mingling with his own oh-so-human traces, working in gentle countermeasure to the softness of his lips, and the peppermint and the hormones and the warmth of him flood her mind like a pleasant buzzing fog. It’s a short kiss, yes, but her toes curl anyway and her heart races in her chest. She tells herself that it’s probably only because it’s been a while since anyone’s kissed her quite like this.

(She won’t admit that no one’s ever kissed her quite like this.)

Afterward, the Doctor pulls her into a hug. A proper hug. Arms wrapping around her body, bringing her toward him like gravity. Holding her snug and tight. Her own arms encircle him before she can even think to stop. It’s an automatic process. Touching the Doctor is still so engrained in her system, it’s right up there with breathing and blinking.

“Sorry,” he exhales into her hair, and he sounds almost out of breath—that’s a first. “It’s just—I’ve wanted to do that for ages.”

Rose can feel his heart hammering against hers. Fluttering like a creature in a cage. (A cage built for two.)

Should she invite him into her room? Is that what he wants? Is that what she wants? Is this part of the plan, now?

(What do they do, now?)

In all the time that she plotted and worked and strove for a happy ending, Rose realizes, she had planned for all manner of contingencies and failures. She never actually figured out what she would do if she succeeded. She never actually planned to be happy.

“Rose?” asks the Doctor. “Are you all right?”

Rose hesitates. She isn’t totally sure of the answer, and even if she was, she doesn’t know if she feels levelheaded enough to deliver it right now. But she can see that, despite his casual and placid demeanor all evening, now the Doctor is incredibly tense, concerned, even; she can spot it in the purse of his lips and the furrow of his brow, feel it in the rigidity of his hands on her arms.

Something eases up a little in her shoulders. He’s better at hiding it, but he’s just as nervous as she is, isn’t he? And probably feels just as lost, too.

“This isn’t really what either of us had in mind, is it?” Rose realizes aloud.

The Doctor frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...it’s not like either of us woke up the other day deciding to come back to this universe. And I can’t imagine you planned for your metacrisis-thing to happen.”

“That last one’s true enough,” says the Doctor, scratching his neck uncomfortably. “But, erm. As for the former. I had already made a decision about where I’d end up, regardless of what the other me decided.”

“You wanted to come back here?”

“Given the circumstances, yes.”

When Rose doesn’t reply, just furrows her brow in confusion, the Doctor averts his gaze. “I wasn’t so concerned about the specific location,” he says, slowly. He swallows hard. “All I knew—all I know—is that where you are, that’s where I want to be. Knew it from the second I woke up in this body. I just want to be with you.”

Rose stares at him, mouth parted in surprise.

“Only—only if that’s what you want too,” the Doctor stutters, cheeks flushing pink.

“I do,” says Rose, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as something goes fluttery in her stomach and warmth suffuses her from head to toe. “Of course I do. But I—it’s been a long few years, right? So I might need a minute, to get my thoughts and feelings and everything in order. Okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” the Doctor replies quickly. “Naturally. Makes sense. Completely.” Suddenly jittery, he steps back, hands fluttering about frantically in search of something to do before depositing themselves firmly in his pockets. “Totally understandable, imminently relatable. Molto bene. Hunky-dory. Bleh, not hunky-dory, never hunky-dory, what a dreadful-sounding phrase, please feel free to erase it from your memory immediately. But of course, take all the time you need, Rose, however long you need, I’ve got all the time in the world—well, I’ve got a good sixty years—well, could be fifty, with the way Donna’s cholesterol is going, and thanks for that, Donna—but then again, could be longer, depends on how things go with the baby TARDIS and whether anyone or anyplace in this universe has got any Werinian lipid stabilizers—but please, yeah, take whatever time you need, Rose, that’s fine by me, absolutely top-notch, spiffy, even—”

“Doctor, wait,” blurts out Rose, grabbing the Doctor by the elbow before he can sprint off to goodness-knows-where. “You don’t have to swan off.”

“I was not,” says the Doctor, who looks very much like he may bolt into the next dimension at any second, “going to swan off. Or duck off. Or goose off. Or any-other-sort-of-waterfowl-off, for that matter.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Rose teases him, smiling weakly.

“I was merely adhering to my promise of, you know. Being considerate and giving you what you need, and all that.”

“Yeah, except I asked for time,” says Rose. Her smile deepens. “Not space.” 

“Right,” says the Doctor.

“An important distinction, don’t you think?”

Something about him seems to loosen just a little bit. “Very important.”

Rose grabs his hand, squeezing it reassuringly, just to make absolutely certain he knows where she stands, and feels immensely relieved when he squeezes her fingers in response. But not half a moment passes before Rose has to stifle a yawn of her own.

“All right, then,” she says quietly, almost shyly. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice soft.

“Good night, Doctor.”

He beams down at her. “Good night, Rose.”

 ***

 Tomorrow, of course, ends up being something of a loose concept, because tomorrow is full of exciting things like Rose sleeping in (until past noon, somehow), Jackie and Tony bursting into the cottage (because it’s after noon, Rose, you haven’t stayed in that late in ages, are you dead?), Tony being so terribly excited to meet the Doctor that he wets himself just a little bit (The Oncoming Storm meets The Oncoming Piddle), and Jackie announcing that it’s time for a trip to the shops (they need to buy the Doctor things now that he’s human and here and forever).

“All right, but let’s keep it a short trip,” Rose tells her mum as the four of them head out the door. “Just for the basics.”

“Oh, of course,” Jackie replies, waving her hand dismissively. “Only the essentials.”

“One hour,” Rose says.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Jackie calls over her shoulder.

Naturally, one hour becomes two becomes five.

It’s about as weird as Rose anticipated, or rather, as weird as Rose would have anticipated, if she’d ever thought of such a thing. She half-expects the Doctor to bound away at any moment, impatient with the quaint little Earth shops and their decidedly terrestrial wares, but he seems content to poke around, to good-naturedly ignore all of Jackie’s fashion suggestions, to answer all of Tony’s many strange four-year-old’s questions. Rose keeps to herself for the most part—it’s only sort-of on-purpose, there are all sorts of feelings crawling around under her skin and she isn’t sure what to do with them—and she trails behind the rest of the group, hanging back, watching.

Her mum, Tony, the Doctor. In the same universe. In a shop together. Picking out socks and deodorant and hair gel. Years of dimension-hopping and traveling all of time and space have somehow failed to prepare Rose for how very weird this is.

Not bad, of course. But weird. Probably weird for him, too, Rose reminds herself.

“Awful quiet,” Jackie remarks at an upscale suit shop, her voice low so that only Rose can hear. She rifles through a clothing rack and pulls out a suit jacket (in blue, not brown; she’s cottoned on quickly).

“How d’you mean?” Rose asks.

Tilting her head, Jackie holds the jacket out at arm’s length, surveying the garment and the Doctor in the same glance. The jacket’s skinny, but not as skinny as he is. “Thought you’d be bouncing off the walls, the both of you,” Jackie explains. “That, or tangled up in the bedsheets.”

Rose groans. “Oh my god, Mum.”

“Don’t give me that. I know how it is. Lose the man you love, spend years pining after him, finally find a parallel version of him in an alternate universe. Bound to be some celebratory shagging, isn’t there?” Jackie replaces the jacket on the rack and grabs a different one. “Especially when he keeps wearing those tight trousers. You buying what he’s selling, or what?”

Rose closes her eyes and prays for mercy. “Mum, I’m pretty sure he can hear us.”

Both of them glance across the store to check, but the Doctor seems absorbed in the necktie display, smiling when Tony points to a tie in a shade of nearly-TARDIS-blue.

“Nah,” Jackie sniffs. “Even his hearing isn’t that good, I reckon.”

As soon as she turns away, the Doctor looks up at Rose with a wink.

(Is she imagining things, or did it suddenly get a few degrees warmer in the shop?)

 ***

 Days pass and he hasn’t kissed her again since that first night. But to be fair, she hasn’t kissed him again, either. Rose knows it’s only because they’re each trying to respect each other’s space or personal boundaries or sensitivities or whatever, which is quite frankly silly, given that in their time together before, neither of them seemed to really know what boundaries were, much less how to respect or enforce them.

Well, that isn’t quite true, she supposes. There were plenty of boundaries that they never crossed. It just didn’t feel so obvious before.

Take, for example, nighttime habits. On the TARDIS, each night they weren’t assisting some planetside uprising (or stewing in an alien prison for assisting in said planetside uprising), there was a distinct ritual: Rose would plop down on the jumpseat or the library settee or a pallet of cushions on the engine-room floor, reading a book or trashy mag or painting her nails or simply lounging about while the Doctor researched or tinkered or plotted. Rose would often have a snack with her as well, which the Doctor would insist he wasn’t interested in, but would ultimately eat half of. Lulled into relaxation by the TARDIS’ gentle hum, Rose would eventually doze off, at which time the Doctor would quietly rouse her and remind her to go to bed. After a bout of protesting that she wasn’t really that tired (punctuated with a deep and satisfying yawn that made the Doctor raise an eyebrow in amusement), Rose would then sleepily stumble-shuffle down to the hall to her room, scrub her face and brush her teeth, and go to bed. Neither of them would see the other until the morning (or sometimes the very early morning, on days where the Doctor excitedly burst into her room without warning and subsequently had a pillow chucked at his head), and that was it. That was the ritual, with all of its implicit steps and rules and boundaries. Hands could be held, food could be shared, cuddles could be had, but certain things were not discussed, other certain things were overlooked, and each night Rose went to bed alone. It didn’t need to be spoken or thought about; it just fell into place, a river following its own daily flow. It’s much the same, now, except there’s no hand-holding and no cuddling and no touching at all, just daily business, time together in the evenings, and then separate beds in separate rooms. This is the new ritual, it seems; this is the new plan.

This explains how a whole week passes before Rose decides she has to do something about the Doctor’s nightmares.

Wrenched awake by the sounds of shouting (again, same as the previous six nights), Rose waits just long enough for her heart to stop pounding before she throws off her duvet and pads down the hall, to the spare room where the Doctor sleeps. She presses her ear to the door, listening for any additional signs of agitation, and only spares half a thought for boundaries when he cries out again in the dark and suddenly she’s pushing the door open and climbing into the bed, time and space and rules be damned. Slipping beneath the bedclothes, Rose snuggles up behind the Doctor as he hyperventilates in his sleep, snaking a hand over his stomach and ribs and chest, pulling them both close. He awakens with a jolt and a gasp, grabbing Rose’s hand with a grip like a vice.

Rose freezes, feeling the Doctor tense to stone beneath her hand and arm. She wonders if he’s angry at her, if he’s embarrassed, if she did the wrong thing, if she should have waited to come up with a better plan.

“Rose?” asks the Doctor quietly, his voice rough.

“Yeah, Doctor,” she replies in a whisper. “I’m here.”

A few moments pass in thick silence before the Doctor relaxes, sinking back down into the mattress. He loosens his death-grip on Rose’s hand, but doesn’t let go entirely; instead he tugs, just a little, until Rose snuggles in closer, cushioning herself to him completely and eliminating even the thought of space between them. Her cheek pressed against his shoulderblades, her chest to his spine, Rose can feel the precise moment he slips back into sleep, his breaths expanding and evening out into liquid slow smoothness.

He doesn’t move her hand from his chest, and it’s a long time before he lets her hand go.

 **

 Probably they should just start going to bed together, but this all becomes part of the new ritual—go about their daily business (together), stay up late (together), wash up (at the same time), go to bed (separate beds, in separate rooms), awaken at the sound of nightmares ripping the calm night air (from down the hall), climb into his bed and go to sleep (next to him), wake up (alone). It’s another rule they both follow; the Doctor may need more sleep now, but he still needs less sleep than Rose does, overall, so she isn’t too surprised that each morning she awakes in it, his bed is empty. Until one morning it isn’t.

Honey-warm light drips in lazily through the gap between drapes and Rose realizes, her eyes slowly sliding open, that for once, she isn’t entangled in a mess of bedsheets, but rather, she seems to be intertwined with rather a solid fellow-human-shaped thing. One may even go so far as to say that she is, in fact, tangled up in the limbs of a fellow human. Probably she should slip out before he wakes, do what she can to preserve this boundary she’s drawn, but she hesitates, her breath warm and trapped between her face and the Doctor’s chest. Her legs are twined with his and her arms are wrapped around his torso and one hand, the cheeky little thing, has snuck up the back of his sleep-shirt, so her palm is pressed flat against warm, pliant skin. 

It’s nice, all cuddled and close like this, pressed together in their blanket-cocoon. It’s very nice. But Rose suspects it’s breaking the rules; she asked for time, so that means she’s got no right to be touching him now, like this. Besides, there’s no indication that he’s interested in anything beyond hugging, or holding hands, or the occasional wayward kiss. He could very well be totally asexual, for all Rose knows. And if that’s the case, she doesn’t want him to feel pushed, or pressured. So she pulls her hand down, hoping that a slow, gentle motion won’t disturb him, but that’s almost worse than if she’d just whipped her hand out straightaway, because now it probably feels like she’s stroking him, which, not that she minds, but what if he does? Nevermind that when she glances down (oh, that’s a mistake) she can see that his shirt has ridden up in the night to expose an entire agonizing expanse of rarely-before-seen skin, stretched thin over his hipbone and smooth over his stomach and smattered with a sparse scattering of hair leading southward, and warmth blossoms between Rose’s legs at the thought of her fingertips tracing a line down, down, down, over his flank and his hip and straight to his—

His breathing has gone shallow. He’s awake now. With Rose’s face pressed to his chest, her lips right over his heart, and her hand still half up his shirt. And with one of his legs sandwiched between hers, there’s no way he can’t feel the heat of her.

Fuck.

“Sorry,” Rose whispers anyway, because she feels like she should. She shifts in a halfhearted attempt to extricate herself from the Doctor. “I’m sorry, I just woke up like this—I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no, you’re fine,” the Doctor stutters. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Rose laughs. “I was afraid I was making you uncomfortable.”

“Well, I appreciate the consideration, but I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about.”

Brow pinched in confusion, Rose shifts in the bed, extricating herself from the Doctor just enough that she can scoot up to his eye level. “Really?” she says.

He nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” says Rose, suddenly breathless, thinking of the Doctor’s wink in the shop the other day. Her hand has stilled on his lower back, near the waistband of his pyjama-bottoms and she can’t decide if she should keep moving away or if she should slip a finger beneath the elastic and see what happens next, sod the rules.

“I’m not in any particular rush,” the Doctor says, as if he can hear what she’s thinking. Or maybe it’s just that evident on her face. “I said I’d give you time, and I meant it. For whatever you need.”

Rose smiles at him. “You know just what to say to a girl, don’t you?”

“Well, it helps to have one buzzing about in your DNA.”

Rose abandons his waistband in favor of fisting her hand in the back of his shirt, squeezing him in a hug as she buries her face against his chest.

“Thank you,” she says.

He doesn’t say anything, but hugs her tightly in reply.

 ***

 It’s Tony’s birthday party—hard to believe he’s five years old, now, feels like just yesterday that Rose was visiting him and her mum in the maternity ward and marveling over the downy-softness of his sweet little baby head—and he has decided, with all the solemnity a small child can muster, that he wants a proper garden party, something fancy and grown-up, all suits and ties and dresses and pumps. (Rose has a sneaking suspicion about the correlation of this interest in suits and the sudden arrival of the Doctor in this universe; she keeps it to herself, but can’t hide her smile when she asks Tony what he’d like for his birthday, and his immediate response includes a pair of his own red Chucks.) Of course, once the day arrives, after the cake and biscuits and presents and fancy-proper-adult-party have worn out their novelty, Tony decides he wants to play a game of hide-and-go-seek. And naturally, he starts by tagging the biggest child present.

“You’re it!” he shouts, slapping the Doctor on the leg before he and the other children run off laughing and screaming.

The Doctor glances up at Rose in question, a half-eaten treat in one hand. “I’m what?” he asks incredulously around a mouthful of biscuit.

“You’re it,” Rose laughs. When the Doctor just raises an eyebrow, confused, Rose laughs even more. “You know. You’re the one that finds all the children hiding. Haven’t you ever played hide-and-go-seek before?”

“Well, of course I have, but it’s called different things in different places, isn’t it? Not to mention it’s been several centuries and just a few planets since then.”

“At least you look good for your age,” Rose teases.

“I do, don’t I?”

“Oh, yeah. Barely have any wrinkles or grey hair or anything.”

The Doctor mock-glowers at her. “Rose Tyler. I most assuredly do not have any ‘wrinkles, or grey hair, or anything’ anywhere on my person.”

“What about the freckles?”

“Those are hardly indicative of old age. And besides, everyone knows freckles are charming. Like a bunch of little kisses from the sun, just kissing you all over.”

“Has the sun been kissing you all over, then?” asks Rose, her tongue peeking out playfully between her teeth. “Should I be jealous?”

The Doctor’s eyebrows pique with surprise as Rose registers the implications of what she just said. She begs herself not to blush.

“Just to clarify: for this particular hypothetical, are you asking if you should be jealous of me,” the Doctor asks slowly, a grin playing across his lips—and a smug grin, at that!—“or if you should be jealous of the sun?”

Huh. It’s been a little while, but Rose is fairly certain she’s being flirted-with.

“You’re a smart lad,” she says, grabbing the biscuit out of his hand. “You’ll figure it out,” she tells him, offering her own smug grin as she eats her stolen treat.

“Mr. Doctor!” shouts Tony from across the garden, drawing Rose and the Doctor’s attention to where he has decided to hide in a very obvious spot. “Come find us!”

Turning back to Rose, the Doctor clears his throat. “So I should, erm,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder toward where all the children ran off, and have the tips of his ears gone pink? “Probably go put the seek in hide-and-go-seek, right?”

“Right,” Rose says. “They’re not gonna find themselves, after all.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they’ve got me, then, isn’t it?” 

“A very good thing,” says Rose, smiling.

The Doctor beams at her for just a second before darting off in search of all the children, pretending to carefully examine every nook and cranny in the garden, even those that children couldn’t possibly ever hide in, ignoring the titters of laughter that float his way from all of the poorly-hiding five-and-six-year-olds.

(He catches Rose watching him a few moments later and shoots her another wink across the garden. Cheeky bastard.)

An hour or so later, as the sun is setting and the sky darkening, the party has begun to wind down, and the staff has begun cleaning the mess away. (It still feels surreal, the staff, and the mansion and the money and the not-having-to-worry-about-every-penny, but it’s a good sort of surreal after twenty years of scraping by, and the staff are very well paid.) As Jackie and Pete start the goodbye negotiations with other sets of attending parents, Rose sets off in search of Tony and the Doctor, to lure them back to the mansion with the promise of dinner. She pokes around the poolside and the trees and the flowerbed, and has just come round the old shed when something seizes her by the shoulder and tries to pull.

With a blink Rose’s UNIT-honed instincts take over and she grabs her assailant’s hand and arm and lunges to the ground, yanking him bodily over her shoulder. He hits the grass in front of her with a solid thwack and Rose springs back, hands held defensively between her and the Doctor, just in case he—

Oh. Ah. The Doctor.

“What the hell was that?” Rose demands.

“What the hell was that?” he hisses back at her, staring up at her with wide eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rose splutters. “Are you—”

She doesn’t have a chance to say Okay because the Doctor has already scrambled up from the ground to grab her once again (by the hand, from the front, this time, where she can see him coming) and he’s pulling her up to the shed with him, throwing open the doors so he can draw them both inside. It’s a tight squeeze, the two of them in there with all the old tools and tarps and equipment, but the Doctor closes the doors behind them anyway. Rose starts to ask what on earth’s gotten into him but the Doctor cuts her off with a finger held to his lips.

“Rose?” asks Tony’s voice, a few meters off to their right somewhere. “Mr. Doctor?”

Rose rolls her eyes. She opens her mouth to say that playtime is over now, ta, but before she can say anything, the Doctor switches his hand from his mouth to hers, putting his finger to her lips and stoppering her words. Normally, Rose might bat him away or grimace in irritation at him hushing her up like this, but right now, with these invisible lines drawn between them, heightening every touch to something near-electric, all Rose can think about is his finger against her mouth and his other hand still grasping hers. And as close as they’re standing, Rose notices (just like she used to back then) just how good the Doctor smells. It isn’t quite the same as before; there’s the slightest tang of sweat that never used to be there, but not in a bad way. He still smells like him, and he still smells good. (Christ, he smells good.)

The pitter-patter of little feet in the grass nearby isn’t quite enough to pull Rose out of her thoughts, though she knows it means Tony is close, and therefore close to finding them. But even if the stakes are so different now (no physical danger here, not unless the Doctor decides to surprise-attack her again), she can’t help but recall all the other times like this, the two of them holding close in a dangerous situation, before. Rose thinks of hiding from palace guards and harrowing space station escapes and prison breaks with held hands and held breaths and pounding hearts and god, she wants to kiss the Doctor so badly, she really, really does. So maybe she should, Rose thinks as the Doctor’s gaze drops from her eyes to her mouth, where his finger rests. Maybe she should just pull his hand away and push up onto the balls of her feet and press her lips against his and kiss him. Maybe it doesn’t matter that they still haven’t properly talked yet. Maybe it doesn’t matter that this dirty dingy old shed is possibly the least romantic setting she could have chosen. Maybe she should snog the everloving daylights out of him regardless. Maybe—

“Rose,” says the Doctor, his voice low, his eyes locked on hers. He leans forward, and Rose’s pulse races in her throat as his lips brush against her ear.

“Run for your life,” he whispers.

“Found you!” Tony shrieks, tossing open the shed doors. Shouting in mock-fear, the Doctor cinches his grasp on Rose’s hand and yanks her out of the shed before Tony can tag either one of them, pulling her along in a run. Rose stumbles at first, taken by surprise, not to mention that she’s still wearing her pumps. But the Doctor is laughing like a madman, pulling her along as he sprints with seemingly no effort whatsoever, and it feels just utterly glorious to be running again after weeks without and soon Rose is kicking off her pumps to better keep up with him, relishing the stretch and burn in her lungs and calves and thighs. Tony giggles and yells behind them and the Doctor laughs and whoops next to her and he’s still clutching her hand and the wind whips her hair and air expands her lungs and happiness swells in her chest and spreads to her head until she feels giddy with the rush of it and it’s been weeks since Rose grinned this hard or felt this good, it’s been months, it’s been years.

“Run for your life!” the Doctor shouts, and Rose laughs.

 ***

 Rose may not have foreseen the Doctor returning to this universe with her, and thus may not have been able to plan for such an event, but some things still just make sense and fall into place naturally, and the Doctor working with UNIT is one such thing. (Working with, mind, not for; it’s an important distinction, he insists, and Rose rolls her eyes but plays along.) Thus it’s in the breakroom for the Applied Sciences department that Rose finds the Doctor late one night, dozing on the couch after a long day of research and alien negotiations.

Biting her lip, Rose watches him, taking a moment to appreciate this rare unguarded view. The Doctor has always looked youthful with this face, but right now, he looks young, downright vulnerable, head bowed and specs slipping down his nose and lips parted ever so slightly as he sleeps. Pale blue light from the breakroom telly bathes his face in ghostly hues, reflecting in his glasses, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Something warm swells almost uncomfortably in Rose’s chest; this may not be exactly what she was working for all these years, but damn it, he’s wonderful, and he’s beautiful, and he’s here. With her. The enormity of such a massive thought in such a quiet moment is enough to make her head spin.

Biting her lip, Rose checks the clock. It’s nearly midnight. She’s more than ready to go home, but she sort of hates to disturb the Doctor right now. There are a few more things she can do, she decides, before she rouses him and they go home. Let him sleep for a few minutes longer, she thinks.

Rose has just turned to leave the breakroom when his hand reaches out to wrap around hers.

“’Lo,” murmurs the Doctor, his voice thick with sleep. “Time to head out?”

Rose smiles. “In a minute. You can close your eyes again.”

“Nah, I’m not tired,” says the Doctor, sitting up with a great yawn.

Rose piques an eyebrow in suspicion, her smile deepening. It is immensely gratifying to be on the opposite end of this conversation for once.

“…maybe I’m a little bit tired,” the Doctor admits.

“Just a little bit,” Rose teases.

“Only the littlest of bits,” says the Doctor, yawning again. With his free hand he reaches up beneath his specs, rubbing at his eyes. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be good to go. Yeah?”

“All right,” says Rose, moving to leave.

He still hasn’t let go of her.

“Did you want me to wait?” Rose asks.

“Only if you like,” he says casually—a little too casually, Rose thinks—so she nods, plunking down in the break room’s old comfy armchair, her fingers still twined with the Doctor’s. While they’re waiting, Rose figures she might as well watch some telly, but whatever the Doctor’s got playing looks dreadfully boring, not to mention so quiet she can barely hear it. So Rose reaches for the remote, only for the Doctor to pull it away at the last second.

Rose’s lips twitch. “Do you mind?” she asks.

“Do I mind what?” he asks, eyes trained forward on the telly.

“Do you mind if I change the channel?”

The Doctor shrugs. “Have at it.”

Maybe it was a misunderstanding, Rose reasons. He was asleep just a moment ago, after all. Probably he’s just not thinking. She reaches for the remote again.

He pulls it out of her reach again.

Rose’s eyes narrow. Her fingers drum on her thigh. Tap-tap-tap.

(Is he messing with her?)

She pretends to settle back in the chair, wriggling her bum comfortably into the cushions. He places the remote on the sofa arm between them. He rests his hand mere centimeters away. After a moment, Rose can tell he’s relaxed a little, sees the tension easing from his arm and neck.

After another moment, Rose pounces.

She dives across the furniture and naturally he’s too quick for her once again, snatching up the remote just as Rose’s fingertips glance against it.

(He is messing with her.)

(This, of course, means war.)

Rose pushes up on her knees and reaches one arm out as far as it will go, holding on first to the chair-arm and then the Doctor’s shoulder for balance, and he holds the remote just out of reach. His arms are longer than hers and he knows it and he’s using it to his advantage, the bastard. He just sits there with a slowly-spreading smug grin on his face, pretending to watch the telly even with Rose’s arm waving madly in front of his face. With every swipe of her hand, he just holds the remote further and further away, until his arm is fully extended and Rose is practically falling out of her chair. And when Rose jumps up, thinking she’ll just catch him from the other side, he switches hands, chuckling quietly to himself.

The urge to laugh bubbles up in Rose’s gut, but she pushes it down. She doesn’t have time for laughter. She only has time for vengeance.

With a quiet hmmph! she sits back down, trapping the Doctor between her body and the sofa-arm. The Doctor opens his mouth to protest and Rose takes full advantage of his tiny slip in concentration, throwing one leg over his lap in a deep lunge while her hand strains toward her prize.

Close—! She can practically feel her fingernails scraping the plastic casing, she’s so close—

—until the Doctor’s free hand grabs her by the waist and pulls her back, hard.

Rose can’t help laughing now, and he’s laughing too, both at her and with her, while she struggles against him, pushing at him with her chest pressed into his shoulder and thigh slung across his lap. (Damn, but he’s stronger than he looks; of course, so is she, but she has no desire to prove herself by harming him. The other day was a close enough call.) Writhing in his grip, Rose makes one last valiant effort, her hand straining desperately to close itself around his wrist or his shirtsleeve, maybe yank his arm closer, before he finally manages to pull her away, and she falls back with a solid thump.

“You unbelievable ass,” Rose laughs, pushing her hair away from her face.

“Me?” the Doctor asks innocently. “I was just sitting here, minding my own business, when I was assaulted—”

“I’ll show you ‘assaulted’,” Rose mutters under her breath, but she’s still grinning.

“—and then you decided to crawl all over my body like it’s some kind of sentient obstacle course!”

“Oi,” Rose chuckles, moving to stand up, “It’s not my fault you’re all arms and legs and—”

Her thigh brushes over his lap as she moves, and she freezes. Over the last few years she hasn’t had much chance to accrue what one would label a wealth of experience in the matter, but she’s fairly certain she just accidentally touched something that was neither a hand nor a leg nor a part that’s traditionally considered public touching material. And she might not be an expert, but she doesn’t think it’s typically quite that, well, hard, either.

Oh. Oh.

Rose feels like she should flush with embarrassment, or jump back and pretend nothing’s happening (observe the ritual, adhere to the boundaries, stick to the plan), but she can’t seem to move, stuck in partial suspension above the Doctor. His face is eye level with her chest, which he seems adamantly unfocused on, eyelashes fluttering just a little too rapidly, and oh my, but she’s suddenly noticing just how warm they both are, how short her skirt is, how his thighs are bracketed by hers, just how much they’ve been touching each other this whole time.

The Doctor swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the force of it. “Yes, erm,” he says quietly, and is he blushing? “I see you found my mobile,” he lies, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Your mobile,” Rose repeats.

“Yep. My mobile.”

“Right,” Rose nods. She points at the coffee table behind her, at the Doctor’s phone lying there. “That mobile?”

The Doctor closes his eyes. Rose can almost hear him silently cursing himself. “Yep. That’d be the one.”

“Of course,” Rose laughs. “So, you don’t feel anything when I…?”

“Nope,” the Doctor rushes.

Rose arches an eyebrow at him.

He sighs in frustration. “I used to have much better control over this sort of thing, you know,” he complains. “Now it’s all…misfiring synapses and…signals shooting all over the place willy-nilly, and, and, quite frankly ridiculous hormones.”

“Tell me about it,” Rose teases.

The Doctor chuckles under his breath, unable to meet her eyes. His hand is still snug against her waist, hasn’t left its spot where he pulled her down, and she can feel the warmth of him through her shirt, feel his fingers curling against her. Rose wonders if he’s even aware of doing it, and he must be, because a second later, his hand moves, spasming like he burned it. His hand settles awkwardly on the sofa next to him and Rose watches as he determinedly looks at anything but her.

God. He must be mortified.

She knows she should back away. She should. And yet…well, she notices he’s not exactly trying to get away, either.

“Do you want me to move?” she asks anyway, because she should.

The Doctor thinks about it for a second. “Interesting choice of words, move,” he says slowly. “Sort of…different connotations, aren’t there? Multi-layered word. Several different meanings.”

Rose grins. “Which one do you mean?”

He swallows again. He still can’t meet her eyes. “Erm,” he says. Followed by, “Well.” He looks like he’s thinking about it. Trying to decide. Rose thinks maybe she should help him with the process. (She’s never been afraid to cheat just a little.)

Rose eases forward until she’s straddling him, bookending his hips with her knees. She’s careful to leave some space between their bodies, just in case he changes his mind, just in case this isn’t what he wants. She can tell by the rise and fall of his chest that his breathing has sped up. She feels his thighs tense beneath her.

It never occurred to her that she could affect him quite like this. The prospect of it all is giving her a rush, hormones fizzing together in her head like a potent cocktail. Like a drug.

(They still need to talk about all these things, Rose knows.

So. She’ll talk.)

“Which one did you mean?” she asks again, conversationally, like none of it means anything. Like she isn’t sitting in his lap, feeling the faint predictions of arousal in her own body now, stirring somewhere low in her abdomen. She’s so sure she knows, almost entirely certain she can predict what he wants, but she needs to hear it. Needs to make sure she’s not taking advantage of him, that this isn’t just his fresh new human body reacting without his permission. 

His fingers nervously tap the cushions next to him. He starts to ask her something, stops, glances over at the breakroom door. It’s still open, Rose realizes, and anyone in the lab could hear them. Well, it’s only Ripley in the lab, this late at night, and it’s doubtful he’s heard anything up to this point, but if their volume increases at all, he’s going to get an earful.

Rose reaches for the remote control, pulls it easily out of the Doctor’s hand. 

“Was this all part of the game, then?” the Doctor asks, amusement bleeding through his nervousness.

Smiling, Rose turns around and aims the remote at the telly, turning up the volume just loud enough to mask any suspicious noises that may arise out of the room. When she turns back to the Doctor, he’s finally looking up at her face, making proper eye contact now. He doesn’t look away this time.

He looks so open and wide-eyed and pretty and god, Rose just really wants to fuck him. 

“Do you want me to move,” Rose starts, sliding forward in his lap until their hips meet, her skirt rucking up around her hips until her legs are almost entirely exposed, “like this?”

Their faces are quite close now, close enough that they could kiss, if they wanted. And Rose does want. So that’s the next step of the plan. Rose does exactly that, leaning forward to press a kiss next to his lips, on his jaw, near his ear. She arches her hips into his and hears a soft breath escape him, watches in her peripheral vision as his eyes shutter closed. She does it again, until she can feel him pressing into her through her pants. His hands fly up to her hips but he doesn’t move against her.

“Doctor,” Rose breathes, her lips grazing the shell of his ear, “you need to tell me if you want me to keep going, or if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs. “Please.”

“All right, since you asked so nicely.”

The Doctor lets out a half-laugh at that, but the sound ends in a hum when Rose starts rolling her hips against him again. She sets up a slow and steady rhythm that she knows is going to drive them both mad, even with all of these layers between them. Rose wants to look at his face, wants to see his guard slipping, but he ducks his head. He plants feather-light kisses while they move, dotting her neck and throat and collarbone with a touch that’s so faint, it simultaneously makes Rose want to squirm away and squirm closer for more. She opts for the latter, pressing into him until their chests touch and she can feel his heart hammering against her stomach. She can feel the exact size and shape of him through her pants, hot and hard and just begging for release. He still doesn’t meet her thrusts, but his hands settle on her hips, fingers skirting the edge of her waistband.

It’s been quite some time since anyone has touched Rose like this, anyone that wasn’t her anyway, and even taking that into account, it’s been a while; it doesn’t take long for her body to start crying out for more. His hold on her hips is too gentle, his kisses too light, his movements too careful. She can’t tell if he’s afraid of chasing her away or if he genuinely just doesn’t feel the same urgency she does. It feels like every single fiber of her existence is straining for him and a needy ache is growing between her thighs and she just really wants friction and heat and more and now.

“I’m heading out,” Ripley’s voice calls from the lab, startling them both. The Doctor gives a jump beneath Rose. She claps her hand over his mouth before he can make any noise. Both of them freeze, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Rose waits with bated breath for the sounds of Ripley approaching.

“Have a good night!” Ripley shouts, still in the lab.

“Thanks, you too!” Rose replies. She is supremely pleased with how normal and not at all out-of-breath she sounds.

The lights in the lab go dim, clicking out one-by-one. The breakroom plunges into darkness. Only the telly remains on, casting shadow-shapes that flicker gently over the room, voices and music shockingly loud in the quiet. Rose listens closely for the sounds of the lab door closing and locking after.

Once Ripley is well and truly gone, the Doctor relaxes a little. He heaves a sigh of relief, his breath warm against Rose’s palm. He looks up at Rose like he’s asking her what happens next.

She moves her hand out of the way and replaces it with a kiss.

The Doctor is surprised, but he warms up to the idea quickly, his lips moving against hers. He almost seems perfectly content with the close-lipped kiss, languorous and slow as it is, but his grip on her hips tightens just a little bit and he arches into her just a fraction. The sensation makes Rose’s head swim and her body flush with anticipation and want.

But it isn’t enough. Rose doesn’t need him calm and slow. She needs to see him out-of-control—needs to see him wanting her. Needs him to know how badly she wants him.

She hits the “off” button on the remote, cutting off the noise from the telly, and she scoots back just far enough that her fingers have space to unbutton the Doctor’s trousers.

“Close your eyes,” she says, brushing her lips against his jaw. “And keep them closed.”

The Doctor opens his mouth like he might protest, but he doesn’t. He licks his lips, nods, and complies.

Once Rose is certain his eyes are properly closed, no movement beneath to indicate that he’s peeking, she kisses him again, a little harder this time, and she unzips his fly, as quickly as she can without getting him caught. She strokes him through his pants, watches his brow furrow and his teeth flash as he bites his lower lip. His breaths leave his mouth with a ragged edge to them; he’s trying to breathe evenly, possibly trying to engage a bypass system he no longer has while he tries desperately not to thrust into her hand.

Good. Better.

Still not enough.

Rose hooks her fingers over the edge of his waistband and pulls it down, carefully. She edges back as she goes until she can extend one leg behind her, then the other, lowering herself to her knees on the floor.

The Doctor, eyes still closed, frowns. “Rose...?”

She leans forward and takes his cock in her mouth.

A strangled gasp tears out of him and his entire body goes stiff. Rose quickly pins down his hips with her hands and takes him in as far as she can, hollowing her cheeks. She swirls her tongue around him, applying as much pressure as she can muster. She can tell he wants to thrust, can feel it in the way he trembles; she rubs circles against his exposed hips, urging him to relax as much as he can. She moves her head up and down, slowly at first, torturing him just a little bit before she picks up speed, moving one hand to stroke whatever expanse isn’t covered by her mouth.

His hands fist helplessly in the cushions beside him. Rose looks up to find his head thrown back, teeth biting into his plump lower lip hard enough that it’s gone white. She redoubles her efforts. She hums around him, pressing her tongue firmly over where he’s most sensitive. At that, he starts panting, his stomach muscles pumping overtime with the effort of it.

Rose has never seen him like this before, never watched all the rules slip away like this, and the sight of him, gasping and desperate and so, so close to breaking, is enough to make her grow ridiculously wet and needy. She rubs her thighs together for any shred of friction she can get. A series of strained noises escapes him and that only makes it worse, so she tightens her lips around him, tightens and swallows.

“Rose,” the Doctor gasps, “Rose—ah. Stop. Stop. Let me—please—”

She ceases moving the moment the message reaches her brain and she releases him with a wet pop, sits up straight to ask him what he wants, and he leans over and shows her: framing her face in both hands, he presses his lips to hers in a punishing kiss. He urges her mouth open and his tongue slides over hers, and there it is, there’s that sense of urgency she was looking for. As his tongue explores her mouth, she wonders what he tastes there, what’s more overwhelming, the bare traces of him or the taste of her arousal—whatever it is, it stirs a moan deep in his throat and suddenly he’s pulling her up and back into his lap.

He’s still hard beneath her and in the midst of her increasingly intoxicating head-fog, Rose thinks that must be terribly uncomfortable. Rose moves to help him, to finish what she started, but he stops her. His grip on her wrist is surprisingly firm. “Not yet, please,” he says hoarsely between kisses. He holds her close with one hand while the other snakes up under her skirt, skating over her inner thigh on its way to her pants. Fingers press into her through warm, soaked cotton.

“Ah,” the Doctor mutters to himself, as if he’s just now realizing something. “Yes, that’s very—you’re really quite—”

His words fade to a satisfied hum as his fingers explore the edge of her pants, slipping under, gliding over slick skin. His strokes, gentle at first, grow firmer. Rose’s eyes fall closed at the sensation. She presses into his hand, hips tilting forward and drawing back in time with the motions of his fingers, and she lets out a whimper when he grazes over her clit. The pressure sends pleasure spiraling through her and she chases after that feeling, rocking her hips and fucking his hand until she’s so wet she thinks she might explode from need. He slips a finger inside her and she bites down on a moan.

She can feel the Doctor’s gaze on her face, gauging her reactions. A delicious thrill shivers through her but no, that won’t do, that won’t do at all, not when she’s still desperate to see him come undone.

Pulling herself up by the back of the sofa, she tries to sit up on her knees, starts to push down at her knickers. She lets out a surprised little yelp when the Doctor stops her, grabbing her hip with his free hand. At first she worries that maybe this isn’t what he wants after all, maybe he doesn’t want things to progress any further, but when he pushes her knickers to the side, she realizes that’s not true at all—he just doesn’t want her to move away from him, not even to take off her pants. He doesn’t want to wait. Which is brilliant, because Rose doesn’t want to wait anymore, either. She slides back down until she can feel the tip of his cock nudging at her, and, shifting her hips just so, she sinks down onto him, slickly, taking him in as far as she can.

The Doctor grits out a groan, his eyes losing focus, lips parting just the tiniest bit. Rose can’t help the grin that spreads across her face at that. (Can’t help the gasp that leaves her when she pushes down just a little bit more, taking him further in, the two of them sliding together deliciously.) She takes advantage of the breach in his defenses, leaning forward for another kiss and slipping her tongue along the seam of his mouth. She tilts her hips back and forth, drawing up and pushing down and pushing just a little further each time until he’s fully sheathed inside her, easing the swollen ache between her legs. When her muscles clench around his cock, she feels him tense beneath her, his legs and stomach going rigid while his brow furrows in concentration.

“Just relax,” Rose murmurs against his lips.

“Seems unlikely at this juncture,” the Doctor laughs weakly.

Grinning, Rose clutches at the Doctor’s back, nails digging into his shirts and his skin as she increases her pace and pressure, rocking her hips up and down and just losing herself in the heat and the wet and the friction of it all. For a bloke who has almost certainly never had sex—not in this fresh new body with all its sensitive new nerve endings—he is holding out magnificently, lasting far longer than Rose would have imagined. She thinks, maybe, as she feels her climax building, as the warm-tickle-yes-yes-yes builds low in her belly, that he must have held onto some truly extraordinary Time Lord willpower. Or, the thought dawns on her…

She slows her movement, hips grinding almost to a still. “Have you been practicing?” she whispers in his ear.

“What?” he asks, distracted, his voice strained and ridiculously breathy.

Rose sinks back down inch-by-inch and feels rather than hears the groan rumbling in the Doctor’s chest. “You’re holding out remarkably well, especially for the circumstances,” she says. “Have you been practicing? Touching yourself?”

When he doesn’t answer, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously, Rose nips at the pulse point beneath his ear, her tongue darting out to taste his salty-sweet skin. She slides a hand between them and rubs at where they’re joined. As her fingers ring the base of his cock, stroking him, the Doctor’s head lolls back on the couch, his eyes slamming shut.

“Yes,” he gasps out, like the admission pains him.

Rose rewards him by sliding her hips up and down, her movements agonizingly slow as she torments them both. “What do you think about?”

“What do you think?” the Doctor asks with another strained laugh. When Rose stops moving, his eyes open again and his gaze meets hers.

“You,” he confesses, panting. “Just you.”

Rose smiles and presses a hard kiss to his mouth the instant the words leave him. One of his hands flies up to grasp her by the jaw, suddenly possessive, claiming, and Rose’s lips part without hesitation as he plunders her mouth with his tongue and finally (finally) starts to move, arching up into her. She rocks against him and he meets her measure-for-measure, thrust-for-thrust. No longer content as a passive player, the Doctor slips his hands under Rose’s shirt and pushes it up over her breasts, planting kisses on every inch of skin he can reach. His thumbs circle and tease her nipples until they’re peaked and straining through the thin fabric of her bra. 

Her climax quickly begins to build up again, warmth blooming through her; she’s close, she’s close, she’s so close, dancing right on the edge, pleasure rippling through her body in waves. She slides her hand back between them again, teasing her clit with fingers slippery with sweat and sex. As her muscles flutter desperately, clenching tight around him once more, the Doctor pumps his hips harder, his breaths leaving with a moan. He grasps her by the back of the head and pulls her down for one more kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair. When he bites her lower lip, flooding her with pain and warmth, Rose shudders and breaks around him and he swallows her cries. She strokes him and fucks him through her own climax into his, where he breaks the kiss in favor of burying his face in the join of her neck and shoulder, shouting as he spasms and empties into her.

Their movements slow and still until they’re both motionless, panting in the quiet dark. The Doctor winds his arms around Rose in a lazy embrace, his face still buried against her shoulder. His specs are digging into her almost uncomfortably but she doesn’t say anything, hugs him about the neck and idly strokes his sweat-dampened hair instead.

Her brain is mostly empty except for a very pleasant hazy hum. She hopes the same is true for him. Still, there’s that nagging little thought cropping up, quieter than usual, but still there, as always: What’s next?

“Are you, erm,” she tries to ask amidst shuddering breaths. “How are you doing?”

“Dunno yet,” is the muffled reply. “I’ll tell you when my legs stop feeling like jelly.”

Rose chuckles and kisses the side of his head.

 **

 They end up taking the train home, or as close to home as they can get, anyway. It’s the first time Rose has been on a train in years; she decides this is to blame for why her legs are so much wibblier than usual, why she has to shift her stance and cling to the pole so much harder than before. It’s certainly got nothing to do with the pleasantly warm soreness throbbing between her legs, certainly nothing to do with the source of said soreness.

Of course, the Doctor doesn’t seem to be having any trouble staying upright at all, jelly-leg comments notwithstanding. Of course he doesn’t.

“So,” Rose says, casually. “Not a fan of blow jobs, hm?”

It is incredibly satisfying to see him wavering just a little, his grasp tightening on the pole. “Huh?” he asks, very intelligently.

“You stopped me, earlier. You know. When I had you in my mouth.”

“Erm, well,” says the Doctor, scratching the back of his neck while flushing as brilliant a carnation-pink as Rose has ever seen. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Why?”

The Doctor glances down at the floor, as if he finds it suddenly fascinating. “Just wanted to hold you, is all,” he murmurs.

Something in Rose’s stomach feels almost unbearably fluttery and tender at that, but before she has a chance to reply, the train gives a lurch, jostling her. She braces herself against the Doctor, one hand on the pole while the other snakes beneath his jacket, grabbing a fistful of shirt. Strictly for balance reasons, of course. It’s got nothing to do with what he just said, or the fact that she’s so very glad to be on this train with him, or how very much she loves him, or the fact that she’s planning to kiss him again.

(It’s a good plan. Very good. The best she’s ever had, possibly.)

Rose pushes onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to the Doctor’s cheek. He’s warm, beneath her lips; warm from blushing, and other things too, maybe. She kisses him again, lower, and again, on the corner of his mouth, and this time he turns his head to catch her lips with his. It’s slower than the other kisses they’ve shared, and softer. Rose has to hide her face against his chest, after, to counteract the overwhelming sweetness swelling between her lungs.

There are still things they need to discuss, of course. Big things. Big, important things. But they can wait a little while longer.

Well, most of them can, anyway.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Rose says quietly, to the Doctor’s chest.

He rests his head against hers, exhaling slowly. “Me, too.”

  ***

#ficandchips #tentoo x rose #tentoorose #tentoo/rose #anti turning of the tide #rose tyler #metacrisis doctor #tentoo #warning: here be lemons #here there be lemons what i wrote LITERAL YEARS AGO #poor lemons have been moldering for like FOUR YEARS???? #?????????? #because originally this was part of a super duper angsty post-JE fic i was working on off and on for a long time #but as much as i really liked some parts of it--it was ultimately too draining to write #because even though i likes me some angst as much as the next salty mean bitch #i do ultimately want these two idiots to get together #i can handle a fair amount of angst with rose and tenth doctor mach i but after an initial bout of angst #i'm ready for her and metacrisis doc to be happy together #even if they've got external shit to deal with -- i want them to be happy together #so instead i've just been reappropriating my favorite bits here and there--incorporating them into other works #a big chunk of it was incorporated into/transformed into 'something of the wolf' #other bits and pieces have been incorporated into the rewriting of 'in lovers meeting' (formerly 'hitchhiker's map') #and other bits have been retooled and expanded-upon to present this here fic #i'm just happy some of this writing is finally seeing the light of day dammit #:D #mbb fic

[boobiemom]

Allow me to formally introduce my wonderfully busty booby boi, Haru-kun!

This piece was done by the ever fantastic Sealguy, over on twitter. 

Since tumblr may downsize the image, you can see the full sized one here. Also, since the extra text here is a big wall, I’ll put his profile under a cut.

He's an energetic, boobtastic femboy who is the face and voice of a huge fashion and cosmetics company, called B ♂ I, aka "Boi". One of the products his company is most famous for is the Nanite Silicone & Saline implant system, as well as Nanite-enhanced "Real Sensation" Breast Forms, the latter of which, when attached to the skin with the matching gel, allows you to feel the fake boobs as if they were your own!

Haru-kun also developed a mobile app that controls the implants to inflate or deflate via nanite manipulation to just about possible size, limits only given by the wearer! Size Limit upgrades are a one-time payment based on personal income. What a nice guy! Rumour says that Haru-kun is related to a certain white fox woman, who is known to utilize magical science for various purposes... how mysterious.~

Beauty and youth like a living doll have given the boy a lot of attention in the cosmetics industries, and he admits that the nanites he uses for this company he also freely uses and modifies in his own time, which have since made him eternally youthful in appearance. One of his many mottos in life is "Plastic is Fantastic~!", which of course is one of the few slogans B ♂️ I is known for. Despite his appearance, Haru-kun is roughly 20 years old, give or take a year, though he appears no older than 17, the product of genetics and nanite enhancements. Another rumour in the naughtier tabloids state Haru-kun indulges in Sexdoll TF play... After all, Plastic is Fantastic.~

Stats:

Full name: Katou Haru (Surname / Given name)

Age: About 20, appears physically younger however.

Height: 5' (5'6 with normal heels, 5'10 with the more extreme ones)

Weight: "I won't tell~!" [ He's about 56kg (123.4 lbs) + 7kg (15.4 lbs) for boob weight on average though that can increase ]

Ethnicity: Japanese

Favourite Food: Smoked Salmon w/ Cream Cheese Sushi (Philadelphia roll), Inarizushi (Fried tofu pouches filled with sweet rice), pink salmon, and steaks.

A few weird and/or fun facts!

- Haru-kun's surname only came to me as I was writing this bio, and is the name of a doujin artist I love, Katou Jun. Cute traps, femboys, and shemales all around, mph!

- Haru-kun's origin started back when I finally picked up Pokémon Silver and Crystal for my 3DS a little over a year ago or so. I thought "If I'm gonna be playing a boy, I'm gonna be a cute femboy with big fake tits and date the red-head rival". Thus, Haru-kun was born as a joke character that became real, just like Nagisa-nii! How about that!

- In Pokémon, Haru-kun's signature Pokémon are a Feraligatr named Nagisa, and outside of gen2, a shiny male Gardevoir named Mitsuru, which is Wally's Japanese name! He's a Poképhiliac, as one would expect. He often calls his Feraligatr "Daddy gator"... he's lewd.

- Haru-kun is also an extension of myself, hitting my desire to be "a cute shota-esque femboy and feminized into a sissy bimboy slut. As such, he's basically my boy self, despite being so girly. "I''m totally a guy, duh!" denial and such is cute as fuck.

#My OCs #Haru-kun #I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAA #I'M SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO GET THIS DONE~!

[queen--sherlock]

intimate nights -- chapter 1

chapter 1: washing up to the shore

hey guys! thank you SO much for motivating me to write aaa i haven’t written anything in almost four years so forgive me if im a lil rusty but i’ll do my best !! 🥺 i imagined this as ben!rog but can be just rog in any era but modern setting x actress!reader !! hehe

this short series would have around 10-ish chapters so i hope you guys enjoy! 🥺 here we gOOOOOO

-----

The Rising Queen of Hollywood,  ___________ is featured in a new heartache-inducing, bittersweet movie titled Intimate Nights partnered with Richard Jones as her leading man. Set in the beautiful  island of Santorini, ________ and Jones are expected to steal and break the hearts of many with heartbreak, lovemaking, and powering through rocky relationships.

Fans can also expect a regal musical score with the director of Intimate Nights revealing a once-in-a-lifetime collaboration with Queen’s drummer, Roger Taylor for creative input and other surprising musical acts to further entice you to watch this blockbuster in the making.

Intimate Nights is due for a release Valentines next year. “And … scene! That’s a wrap for Intimate Nights and we’re headed for post prod!”

The crew and all the actors celebrated for joy, culminating their year of hard work with the movie that is very much anticipated. The magnitude of anticipation grows every month as the release date comes closer and fans are eager to see _________ and Richard on screen.

“Hey, _____! That was fantastic, I can’t believe filming’s over!” Richard approached you and welcomed you in his arms, giving you a warm embrace. The both of you have shared a lot in the past year you’ve worked together, even getting paired up as a rumor which both of you quickly denied.

“I know, it all happened so fast. You were a great partner, it would be lovely to celebrate with everyone, too!” You said until Richard abruptly stopped hugging you with an excited look on his face.

“But you know what I’m more excited about? The drummer of Queen is going to post prod with us, he’ll be working on the musical score and I’m fucking pumped!”

Your heart almost jumped at the thought of getting to meet your lifelong crush, Roger Taylor. The infamous drummer of Queen has been collecting hearts ever since they rose to fame, collecting your heart was an easy task. Your rising fame does not change that especially now that you get to work with him indirectly.

       A few days has passed with the studio being slowly cleaned and sorted out after filming is done, you and Richard got called by the director to check out some scenes which you want to be included and others will be offered in the director’s cut. Being in the studio makes you a little drained and you got coffee for yourself and everyone else.

“Do you guys have any requests? Sugar? Cream?” You asked with collective answers that blurred along as you heard them, briefly taking notes who ordered what.

“Rog’s would be black, ______! He’s running a little late, ran into some LA traffic!” The director chuckled and made you blush as you ran off to the nearby coffee shop you always order from.

Taking your time with ordering and walking back to the studio hides the real reason why you’re not in a hurry to get back because you want to be presentable and composed the moment you see Roger.

“Ah, there she is!"

Richard announced which prompted the director and Roger to look at you, making you blush. The Roger Taylor is looking at you and is seating at your designated chair with your name on it.

“The lovely owner of this chair finally arrives with coffee, I can swear I am one step closer to heaven with the scent of beans from miles away.” Roger grins and helps you distribute the coffee to Richard and the Director. “It’s also a plus to be sitting in the chair of the most beautiful actress in this room.”

“Roger, I’m the only actress in the room right now.” You laughed and his grin widens.

“That’s perfectly fine by me!”

       After choosing the scenes that you want to include and can let go off in the movie, Richard excused himself to be able to attend to a previously planned appointment. Roger and the Director are busy thinking of the most perfect and fitting music scores in the climax wherein you started falling asleep. 

“__________?” Roger shook you awake, with a sorry smile on his face. He probably feels guilty now for waking you up but it’s perfectly fine by showing it with a smile and stretching it at the same time.

“Hey, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you guys. What happened?” You sat up and looked for the Director which was nowhere to be found and finding yourself covered with a jacket.

“If you’re looking for the Director then he actually went out a couple of hours ago, he forgot it’s their anniversary with their partner.” Roger chuckled and you shook your head because it is really something that sounds like the Director.

“Say, ________. Are you free for the night? My creative director won’t be coming in as well and I would really love to get a second opinion especially from someone heavily involved in the movie.” Seeing this as an opportunity to get to know Roger, you agreed. It is also a chance for you to see what you have missed out on when you got the chance to sleep which you have been lacking for the past few days.

Roger lead you back to the booth wherein you get to see the movie coming to life alongside some pieces he already made to accompany some specific scenes.

“I’m sorry for ending up falling asleep, getting to rest has been a task I need to catch up on.” You profusely apologized and Roger just smiled kindly.

“S'alright, the Director told me to let you sleep since the last few days of filming were quite hectic.” You couldn’t agree more, knowing that the last few days were tiring, emotional, and just wanting to finish the entire project which got everyone a little bit on edge. He went inside the studio and talked to you through the mic installed there.

“Can you hear me, love?” Roger’s voice boomed and you gave a thumbs up. “Splendid!”

The studio was where Roger was meant to be in. He moved gracefully in between speakers, stepped over wires languidly, handling instruments with utmost care and played it with precision. He is widely known as the drummer but he was obviously more than being behind the percussions. Roger is multitalented which he displays effortlessly inside the studio, playing the drums, the guitar, and singing a few lines to accompany the melody.

“You sound wonderful and sing beautifully, Roger!” You exclaimed with awe and he animates a very exaggerated bow which you laughed at. “Such a shame I’ve only heard you singing and playing the drums at the same time which pales the talent you have for singing.”

“Thank you, love. And call me Rog, please. Roger makes me sound way too old.” Rog chuckles and you smiled at him. Old? His barely grey locks looked amazing on him, his hair a little ruffled but it suits him just fine.

“Would you want to have a delivery for dinner? I am nearing starvation.” He teased with a pout, making you laugh. The atmosphere between you two completely light and friendly which is something you never expected. Truth be told, you expected him to be someone that the media portrayed him to be. According to media, Rog is the notorious Rockstar, always rambunctious in parties together with Freddie Mercury, the lead singer of the band, wild on the sheets, drummer with a temper, and just altogether a hot mess, literally and figuratively.

“Delivery? We can just get dinner in a restaurant. I know a place by the Bay—”

“Slow down, love. You want to dine me already?” Roger smirked and you smirked back in return. “You’re just shy I’m asking you first, Rog.”

Rog laughed wholeheartedly. He cannot believe you’re matching his game when other girls would just blush the living daylights out.

“You’re a delight, _________. As much as I would love to accept your offer for dinner, I need to practice and get the right tune for your movie.” He said apologetically and gestured at the studio. “That’s alright, we can just get Chinese takeout for now.” You said, instantly craving and already started ordering before Roger protested.

“You didn’t even ask if I like Chinese, love.”

“You don’t have a choice. What do you like?”“Fried rice, spring rolls and shrimp dumplings, please.”

        You spent the rest of the night listening to Roger playing around the instruments and responding to his questions which is a better tune or melody, the chords that sounds better, suggesting whether to focus on one instrument over the other, this or that and it goes on until it is almost midnight and you notice other offices in the entire studio compound closing already.

“Rog, it’s getting really late so I think we should start packing up.” You reminded him through the microphone and he looks up at you from the booth.

“What, that late already?” You started packing up, ensuring you won’t forget anything in the studio. Your chauffeur is also out of commission with him taking a leave for a month which means you only drive by yourself or walk to your apartment which is just a few blocks away.

Roger closed the lights and all the machines inside the booth and he grabbed his jacket from the couch that you were sleeping on this afternoon. The same jacket you woke up to.

“Oh! I didn’t realize that was yours, thank you for letting me use it.” You said and he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I was forced to do so! Imagine a beautiful lady sleeping on the couch, she might get cold.”

You laughed, never imagining you will get a compliment from the Roger Taylor himself. A few weeks ago, you learned that you were going to meet your crush and music idol and even prepared for the day to come and when the day finally did, you were floored with how much you wanted to know him more as a person and eventually become friends.

“How are you going home, Rog?” You asked while the both of you cleaned the place up and throwing your Chinese takeout boxes and drinks.

“Oh! I brought my car with me, I got stuck in traffic, remember?” Roger said, “And you?”

“I’m just going to walk back to my place since it’s near.”

Roger whipped his head back to you so fast you can only laugh with the possible whiplash he would’ve gotten. “Are you dead serious? I’ll give you a lift!”

“I’m good, my place might even be out of the way for you and I wouldn’t want to impose.” You replied and he sighed.

“Alright, if you say so. Here, type your number on my phone so I can call you if you get to your flat safe.” Roger said and you were relieved that he didn’t even put up a fight to bring you home. Walking alone at night is relaxing but you have to admit, you did not expect to stay out this late in the studio and did not bring your car, besides, there’s a first time for everything. You typed in your number on Roger’s phone and saved it as “creative director 🤪”.

“What did you save your name as?” Roger inquired and you smirked. “Creative director with a wacky emoji for a little attitude.”

The both of you laughed as you slowly walked out of the studio and headed for the parking lot, wanting to see Roger off first before you go on your way. The mood was quite relaxing, the quiet comforted you both after hours spent inside the studio with blaring melodies of sorts, the gentle spring breeze giving a breath of fresh air as winter slowly fades, and a new found friend in each other’s company.

“Since I got your number already, let me give you a lift home.” Roger smirked which bewildered you. Here you thought he would’ve let you walk alone but the point of you typing your number was simply to have it.

“That’s not playing fair, Rog. I’m really fine to walk by myself.” You said and he crossed his arms, matching the smug look on his face.

“Like you said awhile ago and I quote, “You don’t have a choice.” Get in the car, love.”

You sighed. This might be the first time you’re walking alone late at night but you are admittedly scared as well but of course, you will not tell that. After a few seconds, you abide and get in the car with Roger laughing and saying to himself, “Gotcha, gotcha.”

The interior of Roger’s car was breathtakingly beautiful, not to mention it is already beautiful on the exterior. It is also well known that Roger loves his cars especially sport cars with beautiful, personalized interiors.

“Your car is beautiful, Rog. Thank you for giving me a ride despite me wanting to walk home.” You teased but still thankful nonetheless.

“Not another word about that, ______, it’s the least I can do for you staying out so late with me. Give me your address?”

You directed him to your apartment a few blocks away and he complimented what a wonderful place you got and a smart decision to stay near the studio to lessen the hassle.

“Yeah, I hate LA traffic and getting stuck in it is not a good experience. I was once late for almost an hour for a shoot! Funny thing is we were all late due to the traffic anyway.” You quipped and he laughed. That was one of the deciding factors for you to move closer to the studio and be a little nearer to the city lights. “Where do you live, Rog?”

“I have a mini house located by the beach, actually. Pretty great view at night but sometimes gets a little loud. It’s where I stay when I’m in the city.” Roger explained yearnfully, “Love seeing the sun rise and set, something London barely has.”

“What do you have?”

“Fog, fish and chips, pubs, and more fog.” He jokes and you laughed. Living in Los Angeles indeed have its perks such as the sunshine and occasional beach trips but it is something you cannot envision for the long run. It’s a beautiful city, no doubt, but the idea of eventually retiring and living somewhere a little more quiet is very much enticing to you.

“Well, I would trade to that for even just a day here. When summer comes in LA, it is very humid!” You complained and he laughed, shaking his head. While the both of you were talking, you just started to notice Roger’s Chinese takeout boxes were in the compartment near the gear stick.

“Rog, you didn’t get to finish your dinner?” You asked and surprised to see it was barely touched with only one dumpling and spring roll missing. “You must be starving!”

“Now that you mention it,” Roger said, he laughed and felt his stomach grumble, “I am famished.”

“You can go up to my place if you like, I can heat up your food for you and you can eat there. It’s the least I can do for you since you drove me home.”

“My, my, asking me out for a dinner date and then asking me to come over your place? I have to say, I am impressed. I haven’t met anyone like that before you, love.” Roger teased and you slapped his arm while laughing. “Keep your hands to yourself, love! I’m trying to make it home without crashing.”

The both of you still laughing as he pulled to the porch of your apartment. He is in awe as he sees the white expanse of the bungalow and the foyer space you have.

“Wow. You call this an apartment?” Roger said and you laughed since this was an expected response which always happened.

“When I bought the place, it was listed as is.” You replied and he shook his head and bewilderment. You were amused because he is acting like this is the most beautiful house he ever laid eyes on but from the both of you, it’s him that has already traveled the world and have been in lavish mansions.

“Your place is beautiful, _________.”

“You haven’t seen the river side and the view from the pool.” You joked and he laughed in awe. You had to bring down the window to acknowledge your guard gate and he waved at you after opening the gates.

The front façade of your house mainly consisted of steps leading to the house itself, beautified with bushes and flourishing wildflowers, and a staircase leading to the terrace facing the street. Once Roger parked his car outside the garage, you led him inside and he gets astounded one more.

“It’s bigger on the inside!” Roger remarked while looking around and you asked for his Chinese takeout box which you heat up for him as he goes on to observe more of the interior of your place.

“Rog, maybe you should go outside and wait for me there. It is lovely to eat out and the view is beautiful.” You recommend which he followed, walking outside through the doors you pointed out to him.

Placing his leftovers on a plate, you heat it up on the microwave while you scavenge for a snack so you can join Roger on your garden overlooking the pool and the river. You only hope you were there to witness his reaction to seeing the view but you knew that the man was starving and you could use some alone time as well.

You placed everything on a tray, got some water and headed outside wherein you saw Roger lounging by the pool, his shoes off and is set aside under the dining table nearby, his feet wading on the shallow part of the pool.

“If only I had known your flat would be this beautiful,” Roger said and emphasized on the word ‘flat’, “Plus getting served Chinese food from a beautiful lady? I would’ve looked for more ways to know you, _______.” 

-----

taglist !

@onceuponadetectivedemigod @benhardyasrogertaylor @love-you-for-your-mind @laurajw14 @littlebitofheaven57 @prettylittlegoldfish @kiainspace @but-legendsneverdie @jennyggggrrr

#queen #roger taylor #rog #issa fic ?? #masterlist #rog fic #queen--sherlock #oof what am i dOING #prolly shit but it's honest work #intimate nights

[lurafita]

Kitten Peter! ch. 2

Go here for the plot bunny that started it all: clickbait

Go here for the actual first chapter I wrote for the plot bunny: more clickbait

Go here for the Ao3 link: how can there be even more clickbait

Okay, let’s start this. As with all the other stories, EVERYONE that comments on any of the parts, get’s automatically put down in the tags. If you don’t want to be tagged for this or future parts, (but still want to comment, in which case: bless you), just write “no tag, please.” Or contact me via messaging here. I completely understand if you want to keep your notifications as clear as possible.

Despite the many, many promises that he was not about to have a mental breakdown because his ex was coming back, Pepper had herded Tony (and Peter) out of the lab and into his living room. Then the fiery redhead had made him something to eat. A very poor attempt at fried vegetables with rice, that the billionaire had forced down his throat through pure will power. The woman was a great friend, a fantastic assistant and a marvelous CEO, but she could barely boil water.

Not that Tony would ever tell her that.

As he chewed his way through the mushy rice and cotton like broccoli (how did you even get vegetables to take on this kind of texture?), he couldn't help but envy Peter. The little kitten was happily munching on his chef cooked, kitty appropriate, fish dinner.

It had taken another hour after that to make the woman believe that he really was okay, before Pepper had finally left for the night. With the sudden absence of someone inquiring if he really was alright, Tony found himself asking the very same question.

Was he okay?

The feeling of tiny claws digging into his pant leg diverted his attention momentarily to the tiny brown kitten scrambling up into his lap.

"You realize these pants cost 900$, right? And here you are, poking them full of tiny holes and spreading your hair all over my general wardrobe."

Contrary to his words, he immediately scratched Peter's head once the kitten had made his way up and into his favorite spot.

"We are going to get some visitors tomorrow, Petey. This tower was actually not always this empty, you know? I mean besides the business departments and all the other S.I. staff."

Peter was apparently not finished with climbing his human, and proceeded to scale up the inventor's shirt. Tony kept a careful hand underneath his kitten, content to let Peter climb up on his own, but ready to catch him should he slip.

"They used to live here, you know? The Avengers. Earth's mightiest heroes. I was one of them. AM one of them, but you know this. You have seen my suit. I'm Iron Man, and therefore the best, right?"

Peter had made it up to Tony's chin and was rubbing his little body affectionately along his beard and cheek. Tony smiled.

"Right. Anyway, the rest of the team has been away for some time... I think they left about two weeks before I found you, and they are coming back tomorrow and I... I don't know how I feel about that."

He sighed deeply, as if finally admitting that part to himself, after having spent the last few hours denying any negative thoughts to Pepper.

Peter settled himself on his right shoulder and rubbed his head against the skin on his neck, letting out a tiny mewl that sounded almost prompting.

"It's not that I don't want them to come back. They are my friends, and I actually like having them around. Even Barton, and that guy is a menace, I tell you. If he tries kidnapping you into the vents, you go ahead and scratch up his stupid face, got it?"

He ran his fingers over Peter's small back, and the kitten started purring. Tony relaxed.

"You will like them. There is Rhodey, who is my best friend, actually. I met him in college and he... well, he has been looking out for me ever since. He is also an Air Force Colonel and probably the most level headed of all of us. He has a suit that is almost as cool as mine, but he buckled under the peer pressure and gave himself the moniker of Iron Patriot, which isn't even a fraction as cool as his previous 'War Machine'. Then there is Bruce, my science bro. He is the strongest Avenger and he might even be smarter than me, but we are not gonna tell him that. He also turns into a tall, green rage monster on occasion, but he is really just a big ol' marshmallow on the inside. Clint is our modern day version of Robin Hood, just without the stealing from the rich and giving to the poor thing. ... On second thought, scratch that. He always stole my fucking coffee and then drank it himself. As if he wasn't perfectly capable of brewing his own. So, yeah. Modern day Robin Hood with less altruistic intentions and only marginally better fashion sense. I'm not sure if Thor is on earth right now, so he might not make an appearance tomorrow. If he does, try not to climb him, okay? I know he is easily confused with a tree, and his stupid cape is probably a very big temptation for your little claws. But you just never know when that big lug decides to twirl his glorified hammer and light up like it's the fourth of July. And if Thor electrocutes my little Petey-Pie, I'm gonna blast his head off, Asgardian royalty or not. So we better avoid that and don't go climbing up any aliens, okay? Trust me, it's not worth it. His beard doesn't hold a candle to mine."

On cue, Peter rubbed his head against the billionaire's bearded chin, letting out a contented mewl.

"Natasha is a bit more difficult to describe. I'm pretty sure if Fury ever manages to clone her, he will jsut retire every other superhero and agent on the planet and fill all his mission teams with Black Widow clones and take over the world. ... Come to think of it, that's a very scary thought. Friday, remind me to hack into Shield later and see if they have any kind of cloning research in the works."

"Of course, boss."

Peter didn't startle anymore when Friday's disembodied voice sounded throughout the tower, but he had started batting his paw in the air whenever she spoke. Like he was waving hello. Tony thought it was precious.

"Anyway, Natasha is pretty badass, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. Just hit her with the eyes and she is gonna be a goner for sure."

He could actually picture Natasha stopping in the middle of kicking Clint's ass, just to give Peter a tummy rub. He would have to be vigilant from now on. He wouldn't put it past Barton and Romanoff to try and kidnap (catnap?) his little Petey. He was going to write an anti-kitty-napping code into Friday's mainframe.

"And that brings us to... to Steve."

His mood took a nose dive. There was the crux of the matter. Steve.

Peter, clever little kitty that he was, noticed the change in his human immediately, and bumped his head against Tony's cheek with a questioning meow.

"It's... complicated. Steve and I, we used to be in a relationship. Shoot, I haven't given you that particular talk yet, have I? So, when one mature cat really likes another mature cat, and they decide to have a bunch of little kittens together... wait, that's called a litter, right? Okay, so if these two cats really like each other, and are both of a consenting age, they might decide to have a litter of adorable little kittens together, you know, if one was in heat and it's like mating season... do cats have mating seasons? Actually, this comparison doesn't really work, because neither Steve nor I were trying to get each other pregnant... You know what? You are way too young for this kinda talk, mister."

He carefully took Peter into his hand and held the kitten in front of his face, so he could look directly into the big, round eyes.

"I do not want you getting any ideas of running off with any mangy, ruffian tom cat, or some little pussy hussy, that tries to lay their dirty, perverted paws on you, got it?"

Peter leaned over the rim of Tony's hand and licked him on the nose. Tony grinned.

"Okay. But we will be having a 'stranger, danger' talk later."

He then cradled the kitten in both hands and cuddled him into his chest.

"So, back to the Steve issue. We were together. As, in a relationship. All official like, with going on dates and pet names and everything. The media even had a ship name for us: Stony; which, not very original, but no one has ever accused mass media of originality, so what can you do. Anyway, Steve and I were a 'thing', and I thought we were a 'good thing', you know? I mean, we hadn't dropped the L-word yet, but we had been going steady for a pretty long time, and that was kinda a first for me, and... I liked it. Him. Us. Being an 'us' with Steve. And it was good. Comfortable. And then Barnes came back."

His hand stopped petting Peter at the memory, and the kitten softly tapped his paw against Tony's thumb. When Tony looked down, he once again couldn't stop the thought that Peter must somehow understand him, because right then, the little kitten was looking up at him with an almost too human expression of worry and sympathy. He smiled at him and resumed his petting.

"Long story short, Steve slept with Barnes and broke up with me. And, look, it's not like I don't have sympathy for the guy. The things Hydra did to him and made him do... Suddenly being free of all that and having your best friend there with you...  And I understand Steve's side of things as well. Kinda. Those feelings he has for Barnes, they probably weren't anything new. But back in his time, same sex relationships weren't simply frowned upon, but downright illegal. Then there was the war and the serum and everything else... They probably never really had the time or opportunity to realize exactly what they felt for each other. And then suddenly Steve wakes up decades in the future; and everything is different and he gets put on this team of super idiots and there is fighting and aliens and more fighting and in the midst of all of this, there is the cultural shock of having just skipped like two whole generations..."

Tony had been thinking a lot about it, actually. He wasn't always honest with himself, and he wasn't always good with his emotions. It was something Rhodey had said to him a long time ago. That sometimes, in order to understand our own feelings, we had to understand the feelings of those around us.

And with Peter's calming influence, he had been thinking a lot about Barnes and Steve and himself and their relationships.

At first, fresh after the break up, Tony had just been angry. Hurt, too, but that was so much harder to face than the anger had been, and so he had settled on that instead.

After the team had left for the compound (and Tony understood that his personal relationship drama could not stand in the way of the Avengers availability for missions and their need to keep up their training regimen.), he had locked himself in his lab for three days, trying to tinker his anger and hurt away. Then Pepper had lost her patience with him and hauled the genius out of there and made him see a therapist and sleep and eat (not in that order, though).

Any protestations that he didn't need to see a shrink just because his boyfriend broke up with him, were waved away by the woman ("Someone taking care of your mental health has been long overdue.")

It hadn't helped. The therapist and the food and the sleep, non of it had helped and Tony just got angrier and angrier at his own inability to let it all fucking go. (He had missed his Iron Man suit, and being an active Avengers, but even Tony, as much as he hated to admit it, knew that he hadn't been in the right frame of mind for it)

But then had come that fateful night, where Tony had taken his therapists advice to take a peaceful, relaxing stroll around some neighborhood. It hadn't been peaceful, and it hadn't been relaxing, and Tony had been pissed all the more for it. And then he almost got shot by some two bit thug. But he didn't regret it one bit, because those were the circumstances that brought Peter into his life.

Ever since the little kitten had launched himself at Tony's almost murderer and saved the billionaire's life, things had started getting better. Having a tiny, fluffy creature to take care of and adore, had left Tony no time to dwell on his anger. Watching as the kitten explored his new home with too much enthusiasm and too little coordination, had made the man smile and laugh more in those first few days, than he had in weeks (months?).

Cuddling up with Peter anywhere and having the little fluffball purr up a storm, never failed to relax Tony and often lulled him into a deep, and thankfully dreamless, sleep. He quit going to his therapist and started taking Peter with him wherever he went. Pepper wasn't impressed the first time he showed up to a board meeting, with the kitten neatly tucked into his shirt's breast pocket. But she had quickly given in when she saw that Tony actually paid attention during the meeting, and was much more open to listening to the boards suggestions, while he was playing with Peter.

He talked to Peter all the time, about everything. S.I. business, new projects, what he thought about any particular book or movie, his robots, his suit, absolutely anything that came to mind. Aside from the Avengers. Until now.

"So, really, I get it. Those two are probably some kind of star-crossed, destined to be, once in a lifetime, lovers. And I don't even begrudge them finally being together. I just... I hate how it happened. I hate that Steve all but ignored me when Barnes came back from the dead. I hate that he slept with him while we were still an item. I hate that it made me feel like I had been a stand-in for Barnes all along. I hate that I have hardly talked to any of the team since they relocated to the compound. I hate-" He sighed. "I hate that I don't hate him. I kind of want to. I feel like that would be easier, you know?"

Peter just looked at him with his big, adorable eyes and laid his little paw on Tony's chest, right where the genius' heart was beating. Really, sometimes it felt like the kitten understood every word.

"I miss him, but not in the way one misses a significant other. I miss arguing about reading the newspaper on my tablet versus reading it on paper. I miss confusing him with pop culture references he doesn't know about. And I miss him getting on my case about spending too much time in the lab. But I'm not too hung up about all the couples' stuff. Not saying I didn't enjoy the se-  wait, this isn't appropriate for young kitty ears. It's not like I didn't like our 'intimacy', but looking back on it now, I think Steve and I, we were always more of a 'friends with benefits' type of relationship, with more weight placed on the 'friends' part of the deal. Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry about Steve cheating on me like that, and how it all went down, but I think I can forgive him. I mean, obviously we will need to have it out, first. We didn't really get to the 'break up talk' before I pretty much kicked everyone out, and I guess that's partly on me. But, I want to forgive him. So, if Steve and I manage to clear the air between us, and all that sentimental stuff, ... yeah."

Peter had climbed back up to Tony's shoulder and lovingly rubbed his head against every part of his human's face he could reach. Tony laughed.

"Love you, too, Petey. You are the best kitten in the world, you know that? I will tell Vincent to make you something extra special for breakfast tomorrow."

Tony brought his hand up to massage his fingers into the soft fur, while Peter burrowed himself into the man's neck and purred until they both fell asleep.

______________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________

tbc

Okay, let me first say, I understand if people might be a bit confused over Tony's seemingly easy forgiveness here, but I hope I managed to portray that in this story, Tony and Steve's previous relationship isn't meant to be the main plot point. It's actually not even meant to be a particularly important plot point. The story's main plot is the relationship between Tony and Peter, and Peter being an adorable little ball of fluff. :-)

Also, I didn't want Tony to be completely broken up because things with Steve went south. Matter of fact is, romantic relationships sometimes don't last. They sometimes don't work out. And sometimes someone messes up. Steve cheated on Tony. That was a douche move, no question. But I didn't want to just bash his character. Steve didn't cheat on Tony because he didn't value him, or because he is just is a super asshole. These are very special circumstances, and things didn't go great, and Steve isn't perfect, and he messed up. But he didn't do it with malicious intent, and he is still a good guy, and he will try his best to repair the trust between him and Tony.

Tony is gonna get a bit of funny, petty revenge on Steve, though. With Peter's help, of course. ;-)

Sidenote: I would really like to know your opinion about Tony's aborted efforts to have 'The Talk', with kitty Peter. :-) :-) :-) I hope it was as funny to read, as it was to write!

Please tell me if tagging didn’t work, or if I forgot anyone!

TAGGING: @ theonemetorulethemalll  @ sapphire-of-shield  @ plueschpop  @ deliciousflapbanditfarm  @alanaaw88

#kitten!peter #peter is a kitten #kitty therapy #kitty daddy tony #kitty series #kitty!peter #tony stark #peter parker #could be seen as iron dad #kinda irondad #Avengers #fanfic #crack #cute #fluff #funny #mentions of cheating #past stony relationship #likely future ironstrange relationhip #op lurafita

[brynnmclean]

8,21,23! 🎉

8. best book/book series of the year?

Let me remind myself of the books I read this year!  I reread a bunch of books which was fun— The Sea Wolf by Jack London comes to mind.  (I think that was this year!!!! It feels like forever ago!!!) I hadn't read that since I was a kid and it was WAY more queer than I remembered.  Also I think a weirdly formative influence.

First time through books though!  The Fall of Gondolin was FANTASTIC, especially wrt the audiobook and the choice to have two narrators, one for Christopher Tolkien's notes and the other for the story bits and Tolkien's letters.  I think that book has some of the most gorgeous descriptions that Tolkien ever wrote which is Unfortunate since he never finished the story!

Runner ups are In The Woods and The Likeness by Tana French which I read fever-fast as the Starz adaptation Dublin Murders was released.  I think I liked The Likeness more because of the grad student literary house family and I just adore Cassie. Rob never deserved her!!!

As a bonus, the latest book I finished was The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski because of course as soon as I finished Netflix's The Witcher, I went out and acquired the first book.  :D

21. what message would you give yourself at the beginning of the year?

Going into 2019 Me said this which was good and needed and should be repeated.  As Going into 2020 Me, I think I want to remind myself that prioritizing my feelings and the life I've built for myself isn't something to feel guilty about.  Make sure you're not the only one compromising when it comes to being with people you love. It is okay—even necessary!—to say no and establish boundaries.

23. one of the best meals you’ve had this year?

I remembered just how much I love curry over french fries instead of rice.  So fucking GOOD.

[end of the year general questions]

#end of the year reflections #replies #urcadelimabean #:D