#no experience but i’d try if someone really wanted it c:

[roselise]

You definitely don't have to answer but have you ever had a boyfriend?

🌸 ･ ｡ ⊹ 🤍 ♡

My sweet friend . . !! ⊹ * 🧸˚ . ♡ 🌸

It’s perfectly okay! ♡

I would have to say that no I have not though !!

(Unless we are counting fictional as well in which case I have had hundreds hehe :D Dohwa Baek from ‘Operation True Love’ is my current #1 !!)

Why do you ask ?? c:

If it’s for relationship advice I’m honestly not sure how good it would be, but I could try ?? ♡

Sending hugs, hearts, and much happiness!

I hope that you take care, and have the happiest day today ~ !! XOXO

🤍 ･ ｡ ⊹

⊹ ♡ 🧸 * 🌸 ･｡ ⊹ 🧸

[sebsrainbowbicycle]

Whats your opinion on the whole Christian Horner thing?

Let me preface this by saying, I have intentionally stayed away from this subject for many reasons, but given there was an outcome of the investigation today, and some of the information I’ve seen here throughout the past weeks, now is as good a time as any to respond to this ask I got weeks ago. This is not, nor will I be offering in the future, my opinion on whether Horner is guilty of the accusations or not. I just want to maybe provide context, and information from my experience and career thus far, that might help people understand, and also my opinion on the reaction from people. Caveat - I am not a lawyer, nor will I go into specifics of my current or previous job, however I worked in the legal profession where I worked on legal cases, reviewed evidence, and made submissions and recommendations that went in front of Judges.

Okay my thoughts. My thoughts are that an internal investigation that should have remained private for all parties involved, especially the alleged victim(s), was leaked and used as clickbait and gossip by the media and people on here and other social media sites. I think people decided guilt without having any genuine information, without seeing the evidence and without any credible sources. I think were the person being accused a different member of the paddock that the reaction would have been different. I think people used this to virtue signal and cry out about what good people they are. I think people that constantly say that the media and journalists shouldn’t be trusted, fed into a feeding frenzy that led to the name of the alleged victim(s) being published, which will undoubtedly impact them for the rest of their lives.

Onto specific things I have seen that I’d like to offer my take on:

Christian allegedly offering the victim a sum of money - First of all, for anyone who has a certain amount of wealth, especially those in the public eye, this is a usual occurrence. You try to avoid an investigation by any means possible, whether you’re innocent or guilty, because a) it’s easier and usually cheaper in the long run, b) pr and public image are damaged by even unfounded accusations and these things can run on for an extremely long time, and c) trial by media is a thing, and innocent people get tarnished for the rest of their lives because of something they were accused of. Now, I’m not saying any of those are why the offer was allegedly made, but those are some of the reasons. Companies do the same thing, when someone has an accident at work and hurts themselves, even if the company do not believe themselves to be at fault they will make a settlement offer, to avoid any legal back and forth. Settlements are not an admission of guilt, but a way to make something go away quickly.

Said money being why the investigation “went away” - I saw a quote that said “the grievance has been dismissed”, that means there was a finding, not that it was withdrawn. even so, this was a red bull investigation carried out by an external barrister. Once the company were made aware of the allegations, their investigation is independent of either party involved, so even if the alleged victim(s) withdrew their grievance, the company would still have a duty of care to ensure that any inappropriate behaviour or actions were identified, investigated and addressed. Most importantly, red bull want to protect themselves legally, and following the procedures and carrying out a thorough investigation, which would identify if they were potentially exposed to risk, is how they do that.

How can they ignore 100’s of pieces of evidence - We don’t know that they did. It was reported, but never confirmed that there was over 100 pieces of evidence submitted, so this is absolute hearsay. Further, I would be extremely surprised if the investigation ignored any piece of evidence, given the ramifications of an incorrect or improper investigation. Also I think it’s really important to say that evidence does not equal guilt or that one party to the proceedings is correct. Allow me to provide you with a personal example. I worked on a case where there was over 5000 pages of evidence submitted into a legal bundle. Approximately 4000 of those were from the appellant who argued that the other party had acted incorrectly. (forgive my vagueness here I’m not about to doxx myself). 4000 pages of evidence, which I reviewed and made a decision that I did not support their argument. The judge agreed with me also. Evidence can be subjective, and sometimes it can be completely irrelevant. The presence, and submission of evidence is to support one sides view of things, the other side will have their own, and both are examined and balanced and decisions made on that and sometimes also on other independent investigation.

The investigation is private and cannot be shared - This is law. GDPR in fact because this is occurring within Europe. I’m literally spending this entire week on a GDPR course, and have an exam on Friday, so I really don’t want to go on about legal basis and restrictions for sharing personal data, but let me tell you it’s for good reason, especially with investigations like this. All parties involved in this have a legal right to privacy, covered by the human rights act, and unless there is a compelling legal reason why their data should be shared, then it can’t be without their explicit consent. Simple as. And that’s disregarding that there will be confidential company information within the investigation that also cannot be shared.

Horner committed a crime - given that we do not know the specifics of what occurred we simply don’t have enough information to know this, HOWEVER, from the information I have read, and by the fact that I have not seen an indication that the police have been involved with this, nor are they carrying out their own investigation, I am working under the assumption that no law has been broken.

tl;dr - These are real people’s lives, we are not involved and we have no right to know anything. This isn’t salacious gossip, and it’s not a fun thing to band around and use as a stick to beat people with to prove how good we are. Processes and investigations like this should be private, and basing things on hearsay and unscrupulous reporters does more damage to any alleged victims than good. Having seen how fans and social media have treated this investigation, do you think that makes any other alleged victims want to come forwards? I think not. But that’s just me.

[pinkacademiaprincess]

Hiii I’m so sorry to bother you!, hope your day goes well <3 I just want to ask, how can I improve in maths? I’m preparing myself for the sat and I have trouble with understanding it. Any tips would be very much appreciated, thanku !! ♡

Become a Math Whiz: Acing Math Class & the SAT 📈✏️📚👩‍🏫

ty for the ask & the kind words! you are never a bother, i'm happy to help 🥰 i can def give some tips as someone who went from struggling w/ math to being good at it. and i’ve taken the SAT so i know that experience as well! i hope this helps 💗

take accountability

it’s very easy to try to shift blame & avoid taking responsibility for your grades/ performance. i used to think things like “the teacher is just bad!” or “i’m just not a math person!” but this mindset is just deflecting. some things are out of your control, like what teacher you have or preferring other subjects, but you have to step up & work hard to create your own success! remembering this will help you stay motivated and disciplined.

find your learning style

i talked about this in a previous post too, but there are different styles of learning - visual, auditory, hands-on, & reading/writing - and not all of them work for everyone. if you spend a ton of time studying and don’t see improvement or results, that’s a big sign that you’re studying wrong. a method that works for your friend or that your teacher uses might not actually be effective for you. so do some research into learning styles and study methods, and find implement strategies that work for you.

never fall behind

okay, easier said than done. but one of the biggest reasons i used to struggle is math is that i would get stuck on a concept, never fully master it, and then i’d stay behind. in math, a lot of topics build on each other. if you get stuck on a topic, it’s crucial that you figure it out asap or your confusion will snowball. you can’t build a solid structure on top of a wobbly foundation. the moment you encounter a problem area, study it until you’ve completely understood.

practice makes perfect

i try to steer clear of recommending specific study methods b/c everyone has different learning styles. but math is so dependent on problem solving & applications that you really have to master this skill in order to succeed. beyond just reviewing your notes & reading over concepts, you need to practice applying topics by solving problems. do the homework questions & do them for accuracy, even if it’s just graded for completion. find extra problems in the textbook, workbook, online, etc. redo questions from class or the hw that confused you until you can do them correctly without your notes. drill it until you can solve them AND understand how the steps work!

ask for help

i am clearly a big proponent of asking for help. in school, your teachers are gonna be one of the best resources you have. for one, they’re teachers for a reason, so even if you think they’re not too great at explaining stuff, they know the concepts. and besides that, your teachers the ones who are creating units, assigning your work, writing & grading your tests... they should be your go-to for questions. visit them during office hours or email to set up a meeting where you can discuss concepts. ask for extra practice problems, ask them to look over your work & let you know how it looks, talk through your work with them. aside from teachers, you can get help from a tutor, a classmate, whoever you can turn to. but pls don’t suffer alone! succeeding with help is still succeeding.

use the internet

so maybe your teacher truly sucks at explaining. maybe you don’t have classmates to help and can’t afford a tutor. or maybe you just wanna supplement your learning another way. i really really recommend utilizing free learning tools online!! khan academy is an obvious one for videos, practice problems, and more. you can also find tons of youtube videos explaining math topics. sometimes it helps to hear things explained another way. i also google “[math concept] practice problems” if i want extra questions to work through.

bonus: tips for SAT math

the SAT is a bit different b/c the math concepts aren’t actually too advanced. it’s all multiple choice so you don’t get to rely on partial points for showing your work. the SAT is testing your strategy & speed as much as it’s actually testing you on math concepts, so here are my best tips for that specifically:

use khan academy’s SAT prep tool - it’s free (!!!!!) and it links to your collegeboard account. it uses prior years’ SAT content so it’s very similar to the test itself. it helps you pace yourself, pinpoint your problem areas, learn & apply concepts, & track your progress. here's a screenshot from when i used it, as you can see my scores improved and i was able to ultimately get a superscore of 1450!

take practice tests - this helps you get familiar with the time constraint. khan academy has plenty!!

do a ton of SAT math practice questions - ideally, find a ton of questions used in prior SAT tests and just crank them out. the test's concepts are quite repetitive so if you just focus on the topics they usually test, you can master them

learn test-taking strategies - the SAT is multiple choice and has a tricky time constraint, so however you can save time will help. become good at using the process of elimination & other multiple choice test methods. you can find these sorts of tips online!

i hope this helps! know that you are completely capable of improving at math. i went from thinking i suck at it & doing poorly in math class to acing my calc courses & studying to enter a math-focused field. utilize your resources and figure out your best study style asap, and you WILL see improvements!

[cloudcountry]

Uh baking an Apple pie with issac? Or issac with a s/o who's a fanfic writer! either one is fine! c:

SUMMARY: Isaac's been working hard lately, so you take Arthur's advice and make him a tasty treat!!

WARNINGS: None!! :D

COMMENTS: i'm trying to get back in the writing groove,,, i havent done it in so long it feels so unfamiliar ^^; thank you for requesting my apple tater!! he's the perfect start :D

this takes place before isaac and mc really know each other??? I TOOK YOUR REQUEST IN A VERY DIFFERENT DIRECTION OOPS. its just artie being a wingman LMAO

Skimming the shelves, you mumble titles to yourself as you search for the cookbook Sebastian recommended to you. You’d offhandedly mentioned making a pie for a certain someone, and the butler was quick to catch onto what you were actually trying to do. After all, said certain someone had been working hard enough to lose valuable sleep, and you weren’t the only one becoming concerned.

Snatching the book off the shelves as soon as you find it, you begin flipping through the pages. You’re so absorbed in the recipes and detailed descriptions of sweet treats that you don’t notice the other presence creeping up behind you.

“Well, I’ll be! Newt is quite a lucky guy!” Arthur hums thoughtfully, nearly scaring you out of your skin.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” you yelp.

Arthur laughs heartily as you fumble with the book, snapping it shut. Your gaze is scornful as you whip around to face him, lips twisted into a pout.

“Aw, I’m sorry love. I didn’t mean to scare you.” he slides up to you, leaning in to get a closer look at the book, “If you want to make something for him, I’d recommend something with apples. Our old Newt loves them dearly!”

Apples? You furrow your brow, running through the list of apple desserts you know. And how did he know it was for Isaac?!

“Oh, and love? Why not make the dessert with him? It’ll drag him away from his work.” Arthur winks, and just like that, he slips out of the kitchen.

That’s how you ended up here, with Isaac at your side. It’d taken quite a bit of convincing to get him out of his room and even more convincing to have him agree to bake an apple pie with you, but somehow you succeeded. You doubt anyone else would have gotten the same result.

Isaac’s soft voice is quite loud in the silence of the kitchen as he reads out ingredients, murmuring under his breath about how he would measure them and doing calculations to make sure the dessert was perfect—

“Woah, hold on Isaac!” you place a hand on the recipe book, pulling it away from his face.

He immediately stops at the sudden contact, pretty eyes blown wide at the sight of you so close to his face.

“This isn’t supposed to be a science experiment! We just need to have fun, okay?” you try your best to smile in a way that will calm him down and help him understand.

Isaac simply looks away and grasps at his hair, twirling the loose strands around his index finger.

“Okay.” he murmurs, and you do a mental celebratory dance.

Operation befriend Isaac is underway!

[sunnyangy]

Hello! I hope you’re taking requests rn 🥺

I really liked your version of the NSFW alphabet for Togame. Could you do a Umemiya version please?🦐

hellooo ! i am taking requests indeed, it helps me get ideas :) and of course, everything for my boy Ume <3

NSFW Alphabet 🍂

- Umemiya 🌱

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

• Umemiya likes to always cuddle you after, kissing you all over and giving you compliments. He will thank you, tell you how good you were and how much he loved it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

• His : He likes his torso. He thinks he has a good shape and his muscle are big enough but not too much, his abs and v line well drawn.

• Yours : Your waist and your hips. He looooves to put his hands on it, pulling you close, caressing them with his fingers. Waists drive him crazy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

• Likes to cum in you if he’s sure there’s no risk for unwanted pregnancy, but if he can’t creampie you then he will come in your mouth, or on your tits. And, he will make you swallow. If you let drip on your chin, he will use his thumb to stuff it back in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• He actually sometimes imagine you bent over his desk in his office at Fuurin, as he would fuck you from behind, not caring if anyone came in.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

• He actually never did it before you, as it wasn’t one of his interests. He was way more focused on other things, and didn’t stumble on a partner he liked enough to do it with.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

• He likes to see you, so he likes the classic missionary, mating press, cowgirl, or like you sitting on the counter while he’s between your legs, kissing you. But sometimes he will stuff your head in the pillow, ramming from behind as he grips your waist with his other hand, leaving finger shaped bruises.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

• He usually is goofy as always, making some jokes. Buttt it happens that he gets serious, and here you know you’ll have trouble walking the day after.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is trimmed pretty short but there’s still some. And it happens that he forget to trim it, or is too lazy. It is also white, but a bit more grayish.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

• He is always very romantic, giving you compliments and making sure that you feel good, always peppering your skin with kisses, even when he’s rough. He is very sensual, all of his movements being the right thing to make your mind melt.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

• Only does it if you’re not there, as it’s not one of his main preoccupations. It might only be like once a week. And he will use your pictures/videos/texts as material.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

• Brat tamer. He likes when you try to be the dominant one. He will let you think you’re winning at first, but then put you back in your place as his thrusts fasten and get deeper, while he stills keep his angelic smile, his hand holding your throat down.

« Come on princess, you don’t think i’d let you win mh ? »

• He is a bit ashamed of this one, but free use. He can’t help but enjoy that you two can just initiate sex anywhere/during anything if you want to. Of course, you agreed for it and have a safe word, but he loves that sometimes you sucking him off seems totally normal as he watch tv, or that he’s eating you out while you’re reading something and you don’t have any reaction.

• Marking. He will leave hickeys and bite marks everywhere, making sure everyone knows you’re taken.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

• He likes anywhere in the house, even just holding you against him will do. He probably will never do it at someone else’s house, he would be way too uncomfortable.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

• Usually when he gets spicy texts from you, even just as a joke. His mind will spiral and think about everything you do together.

• Also when you wear some short clothes around the house, especially crop tops where he can see your waist.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• Ever go further if you say your safe word, or hurt you. Will never do knife/blood play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• Umemiya prefers to give oral. He loves to be between your legs, lapping at your cunt and sucking on your clit as he places kisses all over it. He is GOOD, as he also uses his fingers at the same time. He loves to see your face contort in cute expressions, as you squirm and moan, your hands in his hair or on your chest.

• He OF COURSE loves to receive it too, he loves letting you do all the work as he relaxes and let out some soft sighs, his hands behind his head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

• He is fast and sensual. He can be slow, but always get carried on, your pussy sucking him in, and he can’t resist. He will always be romantic and sensual but it happens that when he’s frustrated, or stressed, he gets rough, wanting to release his tension.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• He doesn’t really like quickies, as he doesn’t get all the satisfaction from torturing you nice and slow and getting you yearn for him. But he will do it if one of you really is horny.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

• He is open to experiment with you, but is careful on the risks. Although if he sees something online that he wants to try, expect him to come to you, just showing his phone. He will also try everything that you want, and i mean EVERYTHING.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

• Umemiya cannot get tired. He will fuck you until you tap out, until you can’t even think straight, and the only thing you can babble out is his name. He will only stop when he hears « H-Haji.. Hajime.. Hajime.. Haj-jime.. », your eyes humid and your cunt dripping with your own arousal.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

• He doesn’t really like them, because he thinks that he can give you everything himself. Although he won’t mind vibrators, because he can’t give you that.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

• He LOVES to tease you, but will always end up giving you what you want. He can never resist your needs anyways.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• He is very vocal. He’ll always be letting out sighs, groans, talking to you, and sometimes even moaning. He will never shut up, but you love it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

• In his phone, he has a folder with every nude, video, and spicy text you ever sent him. He loves to keep them, and watch them all over again. He also has some sextapes of you in it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• 19cm/7.5in, thiccy and meaty. #f1d4c0 , #f2b395

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

• He isn’t that horny, but definitely more since he met you. You two will do it around three times a week, but sometimes even more. He surprisingly starts to be the one asking for it more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

• He won’t sleep until you do, until he’s sure you’re comfortable and have everything you need. When he’s sure everything is fine for you, he will sleep next to you, holding you tightly.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Just want to say, I really love your yandere family! They all seem so sweet lajdkal

Ah! Thank you! I'm so glad!

I've been meaning to make more content for them

So here's a little something

🖤🖤🖤

How Sweet They Are | Yandere Family

Remalda

To Everyone else: Is as sweet as she needs to be. How can she be anything other than that when she’s going for mayor? But what’s underneath the sweet smiles and friendly disposition is a spiteful woman with a violent string of thoughts.

“Miss Remalda! If you weren’t married I’d propose to you!”

“Awww that’s so sweet! But I’m very happy in my marriage!”

‘If you had found me 14 years earlier I would have skinned you for even thinking you could replace my love with yourself. Disgusting Pig!’

To You: She’s sweeter than sugar. Anything you ask for you can have even if it comes with detriment to someone else. She just can’t resist it when you look up at her with those adorable (e/c) eyes. It's just too much! Too perfect! That’s her beloved baby alright!

“Awww you reached so nicely for it, you can have all the cake you want!”

“Mom! They can’t even digest solid food!”

“But they asked so adorably how can i refuse?*Mwah*”

Spencer 

To Everyone else: He’s as cordial as he needs to be. He’s been keeping people at a distance for quite a long time so this is nothing new. He doesn’t often waste any time thinking about those he meets or what he can do for them because he’s too busy thinking about his own family. 

“Thank you for your patronage.”

“You’re really pretty for a man in your work!”

“Hmmm.”

‘Did I leave the dishwasher running? If I did (Y/n)’s sippy cup should be in there. That’ll be good. Oh, and Yulia has a skating competition this week…’

He’s so disconnected sometimes he forgets the...consequences that spring from his own actions or lack thereof.

“So darling who was that tramp?”

“What tramp?”

To You: He tries to be as sweet as any parent should be. Your chubby body, your gleeful squeals, and your tiny grip on him–are always reminders to him about how much he cherishes you. He’s aware that Remalda is inclined to spoil you and he doubts that will ever change so he has to take initiative and be the adult. But he didn’t have to worry about it now, not when you were so young and it was normal anyway to act on your whims. You have no other way to communicate so it's okay!

“Baby, be careful waving that toy in the air! You might hit a bird!”

You’ll babble and ultimately end up flinging the toy in the air wacking a bird off its perch.

“Oh s-dear! Okay okay, you can have it back just don’t do that again. Okay?”

Michael 

To Everyone Else: Only if you pay for it. He’s a businessman after all and he doesn’t get the results he does by being “sweet.” He’ll make his peers pay a fee if they want to see his pearly whites and even then it's never the real thing. It’s safe to say he takes after his Mother and Father when it comes to being sweet…it covers his real thoughts that are either completely unrelated or especially violent.

“Geez Michael you could’ve at least acted like you care! I’m paying for the experience, right?”

“You right, I don’t care. But if you want the experience with a friendly disposition you’ll have to pay the fee.” 

“What!? Seriously this is a lot more than I imagined…”

‘Of course I do I need to have enough to support my baby and little sister…I wonder if I would get more if I just stabbed him.’

To You: He’s sweet t in the way that he always holds you with care and reprimands your wrong-doings. While he’s not too different from his father he still feels like it's his duty to ‘properly raise you’. He thinks-no he knows you're the precious baby that needs his loving hand to guide you in this messed up family. And since you're his sweet baby he will be the sweetest to you and Yulia.

“Alright (Y/n)...give me your hand.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n), listen to big brother. Give me your hand.”

He’s trying his hardest to be sweet with you, it's not typically in his nature to choose kindness over violence but he tries. He loves you after all so he’s willing to try anything to see your gummy smile and hear the bells of your laughter.

“Good job, (Y/n). Next, you’ll have to learn to give me one of your toys.”

Yulia

To Everyone Else: Of course, she is sweet to everyone! Why not be? Everyone’s usually so nice to her–always complimenting her ice skating and how good of a big sister she is. Sometimes when she talks to those who know her brother they seemed surprised she is so nice. 

“Huh, Michael? Oh well, he’s quite curt but I wouldn’t say he’s mean.”

So where her beloved brother slips up she carries the weight, hoping to dissuade others from building too much aggression towards him. Because she knows him and he’s the kindest big brother; yes, he may mysteriously be ridding her of any and all problems she speaks about.

“Threatened you? He’s just…doing his own thing. Yeah, sorry about that…”

To You: Yes! Why wouldn’t she?! Her darling baby sibling is just so cute and when Michael’s busy and the parents are fighting+ you always seem to reach out for her. Always seem to remember her. So she gives you kisses and risks her mother’s wrath to sneak into your nursery for a sleepover.

“Come on (Y/n), how about we stay up and I tell you all about everything1”

[midnightsun-if]

Sorry if this sounds rude, but I have some things I need to get off my chest. Frankly, the whole Scarlett situation kind of sucks, and the way you’re handling things is not exactly helping matters. I get you have a specific vision for her character, and as a fellow author I would never suggest you compromise that to appease a bunch of sexist, entitled fans, but you’ve given so much attention to her character that it honestly comes as no surprise that people wouldn’t respect her sexuality, as bad as that is to say.

I’ve personally sent numerous asks in the past, and you haven’t answered a single one, so either you’re intentionally ignoring them, or tumblr ate them. If it’s the later, then I’m sorry for accusing you. You’re obviously not under any obligation to answer asks you don’t want to, but I admit it does sting a bit to see Scarlet Ask #523759690 on my feed when I have yet to see a single one of mine. You may not think you have a favorite character, but from an outside perspective, you 100% do.

The amount of attention Scarlett receives compared to the rest of the cast (seriously, when was the last time Caden got an ask dedicated to them?) is truly astounding. Fans will naturally have their favorites, but as an author you should remain impartial… which you really haven’t. In fact, it seems like you actively encourage the Scarlett attention. It’s like you keep showing off a fancy car that only a few people can actually buy, then get upset when people complain they can’t buy the car as well.

Anyways, I’m sorry for this rant, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I wish you luck on your writing journey, and hope you have a happy holiday (if you’re in a country that celebrates any upcoming holidays)!

I truly don’t know what to say other than the fact that I haven’t seen your asks and that I’m trying to avoid Scarlett asks when it specifically involves the discourse with her sexuality— which also may contribute to the possibility on why I haven’t seen them, if that’s what they involved— as I mentioned in my one-and-done post about it… I don’t want to keep this as a reoccurring theme on the blog as I know that many people will grow tired of it just like I have.

I answer Scarlett centric asks, barring when I answer scenario asks about the family and/or the ROs, mainly due to the fact that she’s the one people single out— if someone sends me an ask about C, or Blake, or anyone else, I’ll answer it… It just happens to be that Scarlett gets the most asks when it comes to that sort of thing— and those asks are typically much easier/faster to answer than the all-in-one asks— I’d be more than happy to answer singular asks about any number of my characters. And I have in the past when someone sends something in.

All I can truly say? If not being able to romance Scarlett is this big of an issue, and I truly am saying this as nicely as I can… I don’t think Midnight Sun is the right IF for you. I believe I know a couple more IFs with an Ice Queen type RO, or adjacent RO, that may suit you better if you’d like to me share them!

And, I’d just like to make this small point, I get upset, or am starting to, because it’s a point I’ve brought up over and over again— Scarlett isn’t a lesbian to create an inconvenience for the player… She’s a lesbian because it’s part of who she is. Sending me asks saying “I can change her” or “Give us Scarlett and the F!MCs Koda” (among other things) is absolutely abhorrent in the best case scenario. There are 7 other ROs for you to choose from— all of which offer their own unique routes and experiences within Midnight Sun.

Scarlett isn’t changing, I’m standing firm with this. I’m not going to ever change my mind about it— I’m sorry if that upsets anyone, but it’s not something I’m backing down on.

[sulumuns-dootah]

would u ever do nsfw alphabet for the nobles? i’d love to see one for juno, if u have the time! :3

A/N: Hi! I'm definitely gonna do nobles! I just wanna get the kings out of my way first. Luckily though, I had a day off work, so here :) Hope you like it ^^

NSFW Alphabet - Juno P.

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

   ༺☆༻

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Juno's definitely a giver, so he'll make sure you're okay and do his best. You've never had a better aftercare. He'll even share his Ferere with you.

   ༺☆༻

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Absolute fan of your hands. Just thinking about all the things you could do with them is enough to make his dick twitch.

   ༺☆༻

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When it comes to his dick cum, I'd say he's pretty normal. Now when it comes to his horn cum, his horns release way much than their size should allow them. It does get annoying though, when he doesn't clean it up before it dries and becomes impossible to get out of his hair.

   ༺☆༻

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to have a threesome with you and Minhyeok. He's the no.1 shipper of the two of you afterall, and seeing his ship finally become true is his ultimate goal.

   ༺☆༻

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

As Juno, barely anything - April fools' day was his first time. As Ppyong though? Oh boy. He is the most attractive Red lump and has the experience to go with it. Sadly it's only with other demons his size/shape and not really applicable to human shaped partners.

   ༺☆༻

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything his partner wants. As long as they both experience pleasure, he's down.

   ༺☆༻

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc.)

I can imagine him on the funny side, but not because he intends to. Maybe he just says something something hilariously wrong like that time he wanted to be our dildo.

   ༺☆༻

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

I don't think any of the demons in hell are hairy unless they deliberately want to be themselves. So no hair on this lil guy either.

   ༺☆༻

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he's trying to pursue a relationship with you, then he'd definitely allow himself to be more romantic. Otherwise he'd be just casual and not really as emotionally involved.

   ༺☆༻

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In his lump body, I don't really see him having fun with himself, but in his human body? Anytime he's not around someone is body exploration time. There's so much things he's finding out about human anatomy and he can't wait to share them with you.

   ༺☆༻

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

So his bio/information post says touching and since he's from Gehenna he obviously has to also be into pain. From my personal headcanons, I like to think that he's also into voyeurism and praising. I'll talk about this more in Motivation, but he's a pleasure switch and whatever you're into, he will indulge you. Even if that means getting fucked by someone else. Just make sure to let him know how happy you are and how good he made you feel.

   ༺☆༻

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

There's no shame in this bad boy.(I mean, think of some of the things he's said to Minhyeok during the main campaign) He'll take you anywhere. If you're uncomfortable however, feel free to let him know and he'll take you somewhere more private or summon a room for the two of you.

   ༺☆༻

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Since I already mentioned this, let's go over it: He's clearly into bringing pleasure to his partner no matter what it takes. Doesn't matter to him if you think of someone else or just use him to get off. He'll deliver and make you wish for another chance so you can actually appreciate that it's him you're being with.

   ༺☆༻

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Go past your limits. This goes hand in hand with him bringing pleasure. If you're not happy, he's not happy.

   ༺☆༻

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Maybe the only thing he will be selfish in, but still not to the point where you're struggling for air on his dick. In giving he's generous though, and will make you see stars just from making out with your pussy.

   ༺☆༻

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? Etc.)

The most comfortable for him is going fast and rough. He's enjoying his newfound strength and enjoys drawing out all those pretty sounds and facial expressions from you.

   ༺☆༻

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really a fan. Juno wants to savour every moment with his partner. Unless you're getting attacked, there's no reason to rush.

   ༺☆༻

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? Etc.)

Sure, if you're up for experimentation, he's down too, but he would never deliberately put you in harms way.

   ༺☆༻

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh, he can go a lot. And he will, even if he has to make you. His new strength is so exciting he wants to see how far he himself can go. Usually, he does hit your hard limit though and will grumble a bit, but ultimately stop.

   ༺☆༻

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Being touchy feely like Juno, one doesn't really need toys. Imagination and your own hands are simply enough.

   ༺☆༻

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not at all. Exactly the opposite, actually. If he's giving, he's going all out and overstimulate his partner.

   ༺☆༻

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you have this man's card, you know this already, but our boy Juno has the prettiest moans in this game. His little gasps are super adorable too. <3

   ༺☆༻

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Something a little bit more sad: While he's in his lump state, he kinda wishes demons with human body would also make advances on him, but he knows that it's kinda impossible given his form. Some days he really misses burying his fat cock into someone.

   ༺☆༻

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like I hinted above, his cock is fat, but hey, we already know that thx to @ shyanimeboy on twitter (bless their soul for being a lifesaver for us f2p players!) Also, give this man max of few days in Abyssos and he's coming home with at least one dick piercing.

   ༺☆༻

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

About average, generally, but if he has a partner, he'd match them so he can be ready for them anytime.

   ༺☆༻

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Who needs sleep? Definitely not him, even though he just fucked out your soul. Being a winged creature in his lump state translates well in terms of pacing his strength and never using too much of it and tiring himself.

[gatheringbones]

genuine question: how do you stand the loneliness? i'm in my mid 20s and ive never been loved in a way that didnt hurt. i dont want to have to run after ppl begging for the smallest scrap of affection anymore but i keep turning up ppl who, even though they are interested in me and seem generally decent, arent ready to lower their walls and let me in, so its either that or nothing, and im so fucking lonely. i try to bury myself in work and going out as much as i can, but sometimes it hits me, and i dont know how to stand it anymore. i just want to be able to be kind to someone and treat them with all the love and affection i have, and not have to guard myself at the same time or be afraid of them or feel like i can never be sure with them. i think you've been lonely like that for a long time, too, and i dont have anyone who understands. i know the only advice you can give is probably "endure and continue to have self respect", but i dont know how to do that without also becoming small, and sad, and worn out from all the loneliness. if there's anything you can think of that helped you get through it, please tell me--i dont want to burden or overwhelm you, but i dont know what to do anymore, and like i said, you seem like you've survived a couple of those sorts of droughts and i dont have anyone else to talk to about this

so on those first few early dates with c when she was either driving an hour up north or I was taking the bus two hours down to see her, I was so rattled by the experience of building intimacy with someone else that I couldn’t really think of what we ought to do with each other on our dates. In the end I decided: we would just do what I ordinarily did to build intimacy with myself, which meant taking lots of long walks all over residential seattle. and I’d been living there for over ten years at that point, getting around either by walking or by bus. before that I’d lived in the sticks. before that I’d lived in the part of the sticks that wasn’t connected to the power grid. my earliest memories are long lonely walks. long lonely walks were my primary coping mechanism for debilitating post traumatic stress and survivor’s guilt. and with c it was wild because. it was exactly like going on these walks with myself, only I was more of myself and these walks were more of what they were. what’s more the internal map of the city I had built in my feet over a decade was suddenly of use. all of the time and neurons I had put into building it were relevant to the present situation.

i packed a backpack once. water and a cheeseboard with a little cheese knife and a can of prosecco and a can of kirin for c and lots of little cheeses and salamis and fruits and veggies and chocolate almonds. And I took c on a long meandering walk that I knew from memory; fremont to the crown hill cemetery to the stairs leading down to golden gardens to the beach at sunset. all places I’d been by myself and taken my friends to before. places I’d taken myself to after packing myself a snack and bringing my journal and quite literally staring across the water at a home that would kill me if I ever returned to it. all that time mattered. the time I had spent in that place making those friendships and mourning that life and building that intimacy with myself and the city mattered.

All the years before— giving, giving, gifts to those who could not care, would not give back. How well we made a feast together. Those years of waste were over.

[nexysworld]

NSFW Alphabet 🖤GOW Heimdall (A-M) 🖤

Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Read P2 Here

Summary: I’ve never done one of these before and I had a few thoughts floating around so I decided to do one for Heimdall in between my other stories. 

🖤 Warnings: NSFW content, mention of bdsm related kinks

A = Aftercare  I think he’d be sweet in his own way. He’d do things like complain you’re making his bed a mess, but he’ll carry you to the bathtub and let you lean on him in the water while he rubs a washcloth over your back gently. Given who he is, he has a hard time just being soft so he’ll take care of you, but not without coming up with an excuse or tossing a comment your way first.  B = Body part   His favorite body part would be your lips. From the way they swell when he kisses you roughly, to how they try their best when stretched around his — he even likes the little butterfly kisses you press over his beauty marks. He just can’t seem to get enough of them. C = Cum   I think he would love finishing inside of you. For him it’s both possessive and intimate knowing that you’re walking around with him inside of you. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the few one offs where he can mess up your pretty face, or when he pulls out right as you're about to finish so he can paint your pussy and listen to you whine about having wanted him to fill you up.     D = Dirty secret I think he would want to be dommed. Given his ego and pride I don’t picture him ever explicitly asking or bringing it up, but I do think he has moments where he thinks about how nice it would be to just be tied up, blindfolded, not having to think about anything besides someone else taking control. I also think it would take an enormous amount of trust for him to allow himself to be put in a vulnerable position like that, which is why he keeps it as his own little fantasy.  E = Experience He’s a god and he’s probably at least a few centuries old. I think that he has experience with sex, plenty of it, with both men and women. I’d say by this point he’s pretty good at it, knowing what people like and dislike (I mean even if he lacked experience he can read minds? So..) I’d like to think that after several bad experiences with the confession of feelings he has a few boundaries with his one night stands, no kissing on the lips, no cumming inside, etc. Those kinds of acts are only reserved for particularly special people (namely you).  F = Favorite position I think he likes anything where he can see your face, but his favorite would probably be when you’re riding him. He likes to throw you off your balance by thrusting up randomly, and watch your face contort as he makes teasing comments at you.  G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Well it’s Heimdall so… while I don’t see him being goofy per se, he definitely would be his usual sarcastic self. Even if he tried to rein it in there’d be a few comments that would slip through for sure. H = Hair I think he goes au naturale. He shaves his face clearly, but the rest of him I think he leaves as is. I don’t picture him having tons of body hair honestly, a happy trail of dark blonde hair that leads into his pubes left clean but in their natural state.  I = Intimacy  With Heimdall I suppose it would depend, even his sweet moments can sometimes not seem that way to an outsider. I think with someone he really cared about he would try his hardest though when feeling romantic. He’d coo at you and give you gentle praises while he littered your face and body with kisses. He’d remind you that only he can make you feel this way, that you’re his, etc.  J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) I think he doesn’t generally do this often, unless he catches feelings. Then I think that he can’t drift off to sleep or be left alone with his thoughts without them wandering to the person he desires, that leads to awkward boners he can’t get rid of without some action.  K = Kink  I think he’d totally be down with some form of pet play/master sub dynamic, even if it’s just a collar and a few words like ‘kitten’ or ‘puppy.’ The only real affection we ever see him give is with animals, and I think that process of outthinking something and possessing he really likes. Having an obedient little lover who’s all his? Perfect. Fucking you while you bark or meow and there’s not a thought left in your head he can see besides himself? Perfect! Watching you desperately try to follow his commands and please him for praise? Perfect!!! L = Location Himinbjorg. Definitely his home. He’d want to be away from other people so his senses aren’t getting distracted by thoughts of everyone else. He would just want to focus on being in the moment with whoever he is with. I can also see a more romantic side of him wanting to make love out in the open, like in an Asgardian field so he can watch his lover bathe in the splendor of the realm he loves so much.  M = Motivation  I think something that he would find both annoying and boner-inducing would be when he can see himself in your mind. When you think he’s not close enough or not bothering to read your thoughts, and you’re picturing him and his own handsome features and soft pink lips, that would definitely prompt him to make a move. Or if you’re kissing his neck, it’s innocent for you that you like to pepper kisses on all his beauty marks, but for him it shoots blood straight between his legs with each contact of your lips. 

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: ISFP, asexual, beginning a 5-year PhD in a a conservative state. I’ve noticed grad students in the program like to bond over dating/guys (the cohort is mostly women in their 20s). Although my love life is technically none of their business, at every place I’ve worked, people have asked if I’m seeing anyone, what my taste is guys is, etc. I usually “play along” with assumptions that I’m straight and give the sort of answers people seemed to be looking for. But 5 years seems like a long time to fake such a fundamental part of myself. I think I’ll end up having to go against the grain one way or another.

Many people don’t know about asexuality, so not only would I risk people’s prejudice, at minimum I’d probably have to play “educator” about my identity. I’m trying to decide whether to a) clearly communicate that I won’t discuss my dating life with my cohort and then keep enforcing that boundary (which will be hard because I do want to bond with people in the program), b) just say I’m not interested in dating or that I’m “not inclined that way” (although in my experience, that doesn’t deter people from further prying), or c) be honest and open about my identity if anyone asks (but then have to “explain myself” to people)

-----------------------

It is unfair, tough, and taxing to feel as though you have to hide or suppress such an important aspect of yourself. I do find that it helps to think of it as just one aspect of oneself rather than one's entire identity. The fact of the matter is that people don't know every aspect of each other unless they are in a very close and intimate relationship.

The kind of conversations you're referring to are classified as "small talk". People use small talk as a way to subtly feel out if a deeper relationship is possible, which means it doesn't have to be any more serious than discussing the weather. You get to control exactly how near or far you want to be from people by choosing to respond or not respond to their small talk seriously. Perhaps you're taking it more seriously than is necessary because it's a sensitive topic for you?

Option 1: Limit the truth because it's none of their business. If other people want to assume, then it's their problem, not yours. Speaking from my own experience, unless the person is an outright bigot, I often find it extremely funny rather than offensive when they reveal how ignorant they are through their assumptions about me. Once again, you can choose the degree to which you take such things seriously, which is easier to do when you feel secure in your identity.

I don't think you need to be a hard-ass about it, as you won't make many friends that way. Setting a hard and solid boundary out of the blue or without provocation often leads people to think something's "wrong" with you, which isn't ideal.

I think the issue here is what you call "being fake" or "playing along". I don't really see it that way. I think it's quite possible to be private without being inauthentic. When you're a good communicator, it isn't necessary to lie. There are a million ways to say something without saying it directly. Perhaps your thinking on the matter is too black-and-white if you're framing it as "honesty" vs "lying". Socializing successfully requires more nuance than that.

Yes, you could say it's private business, in a friendly way. There's nothing morally wrong with being a shy or private person, is there? Or you could say... Relationships aren't your priority right now... It's not something you care much about... You haven't met anyone you feel that way about... You haven't really thought about it... You care much more about <fill in the blank>...

None of those statements are lies and they are honest enough that a savvy person might even grasp the subtext. For the less savvy, yes, they might ask further questions, but they'll eventually stop once it becomes obvious that you have little to contribute on the matter. And if someone does press too hard, take it as a helpful sign that they should be avoided.

Although, you shouldn't assume that people are "prying" just for asking questions. It might appear to be prying when you're standing in the perspective of having a secret to keep, but, to them, it's merely curiosity. Curiosity is necessary for furthering relationships, otherwise, how would we get to know each other? Maybe you can learn to take people's curiosity in stride? For example, sometimes a bit of humor works better than a hard boundary.

Option 2: Be open because it shouldn't be a big deal. Do you derive pleasure from challenging people's ignorance and prejudice? There is something to be said for standing up, being visible, getting counted, and providing representation as a minority. You could help advance people's awareness and acceptance. However, if you don't want to be a crusader, what's your reason for being open?

You say you're ISFP, so you presumably think it's important to be yourself and freely express who you are? I agree that this is an important value to hold and uphold. Unfortunately, freedom of expression doesn't mean you are free from consequences. Being a person of integrity isn't always easy since upholding your values can bring undesirable consequences. The logical consequence of expressing yourself freely is that your business becomes other people's business if they take an interest in what you're expressing. The question is: Is this a price you're willing to pay, or is it a price you believe is worth paying?

Option 3: Be selective. There is a third option, which is to only come out to the individuals you trust. Perhaps this middle ground would be more comfortable for you? You won't have to "educate" and "explain" to everyone and face public scrutiny. You'll get to express who you are in a way that's satisfying enough. Of course, the tough part is exercising good judgment about who to trust. It's important to remember that there are good/accepting and bad/prejudiced people everywhere, regardless of whether the place is conservative or liberal leaning.

It is entirely your prerogative as to what aspects of yourself to reveal to others. This is why it's not my place to tell you whether to reveal or not. I can only tell you to weigh the options thoroughly and make the decision that you can best live with.

[shivunin]

A Gravity Assist

For @greypetrel for Christmas/New Year's c: I was inspired by the piece you wrote about Aisling and Maria in the Western Approach. Here are our girls doing more questionable science! Happy new year, and I am very glad to know you 💗

(Maria Hawke & Aisling Lavellan | 3,042 Words | No Warnings)

Gravity Assist: A maneuver done in space in which a vessel is pulled partially into the gravity of a celestial body in order to alter its trajectory or speed (sometimes called a slingshot maneuver)

“You like her?” Varric said, peering down at the sheet of parchment before him. 

It was late. Most of the Great Hall’s occupants had wandered off or gone on to other duties, and Skyhold slept quietly around them. Hawke swirled the liquor in her glass for a moment, considering her answer. She didn’t need to ask who he meant, of course. There was only one “her” that really counted around here. 

“I do,” she said at last, and searched for the right words to explain why. 

While she’d been trying to become truly anonymous in the Ferelden countryside, Varric had been here and in Haven, helping to build the organization she sought help from now. Obviously, she’d come here with half an intention to stage a rescue. If Varric had actually been held here against his will, she rather thought she would have pulled it off, too. She’d been surprised to find that he was here entirely of his own volition, and even more surprised to find that it…suited him. 

Hawke had arrived at Skyhold wary, though not actually planning to act against the Inquisition. She’d intended to help to the extent that she could—with Carver’s life on the line, how could she do anything else?—but she hadn’t expected to enjoy it very much. She certainly hadn’t expected to find the much-lauded Herald of Andraste…earnest. Kind. Damn good company. 

“You didn’t want to,” Varric went on, plainly following her own thoughts, and Maria laughed. 

“No, I can’t say I did. I was expecting someone more…Oh, self-important, I suppose. Like the nobility back home. I’d heard she was an elf, of course, but I heard just as many say she was any number of other things. It didn’t occur to me that she would be so good at…” she paused, gesturing with the glass while she thought, “experiments.”

“She is that,” Varric said, tapping his quill into the inkwell and scrawling a single line onto the next page before setting it aside to dry. “Couldn’t stop her if we tried, and Curly certainly wanted to try.” 

“Did he now?” Hawke asked, and Varric laughed. 

“Leave it, Hawke. They’re both in one piece, aren’t they? She doesn’t need someone to defend her. She’s got plenty. And, ah—” he laughed, one of the knowing chuckles that’d driven her mad when they’d first begun to know each other, “—I don’t think you need to defend Aisling from the Commander.”

Maria hummed and lifted her glass again. For a time, they were quiet. The fire was plenty engrossing to watch, and the soft scribble of Varric’s quill on parchment was a familiar sort of accompaniment to her thoughts. The whiskey was warm on her tongue when she sipped it, and it was all rather cozy. 

She didn’t like the comfort of  it. Time was running perilously short, there were a thousand things she’d left undone at home, and she was spending her time here attending fetes and trying to keep herself too busy to think. It didn’t feel right to be kicking her heels here when there was so much that’d gone horribly wrong in the world. It didn’t seem—

“Cham—Hawke!” she hardly heard the Inquisitor before the elf sat hard on the bench beside her. “I was looking for you. I had a question, you see. Oh—was I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Lucky,” Varric said, setting the page aside and shifting another closer to him. “Hawke here was just telling me she thought the Inquisitor would be self-important.” 

Maria smiled and kicked him under the table. Varric grunted. 

“What I said,” she informed the Inquisitor, looping her arm through the other woman’s, “was that you have exceeded my every expectation. Don’t listen to him; he’s dreadful at paraphrasing. You’ve no idea the amount of things he left out of that dreadful book.”

“Dreadful,” Varric scoffed. “Dreadful! I’ll have you know I was interrogated over that book, Hawke. For days. Weeks, even.”

“I remember it quite well,” she informed him, for she’d neither forgotten nor forgiven the Seeker for it. 

It had been worth sneaking into the woman’s quarters, she decided, for the clear discomfort the woman had felt without access to any undergarments. Good riddance; may the hares and foxes in the valley below enjoy them well. 

“Did you want to say something, dear?” she added, nudging Aisling. “You seemed excited.”

Aisling, who’d been holding herself very still with visible effort, brightened. 

“Oh—yes, I almost forgot. I had a question to ask you, if you don’t mind the asking, about those force spells you showed me the other day…”

They sat before the fire for some time, discussing magical theory and the likely velocity of a given object if one tried to use a telekinetic spell to hurl it into a gravitic ring. It was pleasant to think about, actually—good exercise for a mind that had taken to pacing itself in circles. Hawke found herself awake long after she’d intended to be, more comfortable than she’d managed these last restless weeks at Skyhold, and relieved to remember that there’d been a life before all this fear. Magical theory existed rather completely beyond the question of Wardens and Callings and would-be gods who ought to have been long dead.

She’d been honest when she told Varric she liked the Inquisitor, but it was more than that. There’d been a horrible, niggling guilt at the back of her mind: she’d known that the Chantry was looking for her, known that she’d been wanted at the Conclave. When the sky had been ripped open, when Varric had told her all that had happened, her first thought was that she should have been there. Corypheus was her responsibility. He was a Hawke’s burden to carry and she had failed. 

If she had been at the Conclave…

No, no; leave that to think about after she got into the bedroom. It would do no good to consider it here and now. 

“Goodnight,” she told the Inquisitor some time later, and relished the comfort of being able to actually hug somebody else for once. Varric, for all his familiarity, had always had a rather low tolerance for her long goodbyes. Aisling allowed them for far longer, to Hawke’s infinite relief. 

It was difficult to realize how much one had come to rely on consistent physical contact until one had lost the opportunity to have any at all.

“Goodnight,” the elf said, squeezing her in return. “Tomorrow morning, maybe later in the week—do you think you have time to test it out? I do think it could be helpful for a variety of applications.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maria said. “When someone is falling, for example, or perhaps we can find a way to sort of slingshot things using it…or we could use it if you need to fight a dragon again. Dreadful creatures. I was almost eaten by one, you know.”

“Varric told me,” Aisling said, and they unfolded themselves from each other at last. “I am hoping we might use the two in combination to lower goods into the valley and bring them up more easily than the road allows. But—tomorrow!” 

“Tomorrow,” Maria agreed, smiling—genuinely for once, and turned to leave for her quarters

“Goodnight,” the elf said again and bounced away, already patting her pockets for something. 

A notebook, Hawke supposed, or something to write with. When she slipped into her own room at last, she locked the door behind her and tapped into the wards she’d left here when she’d gone away for the day. 

All was well. This annoyed her; if there’d been an issue, it would have been nice to solve something for once.

When she’d finished changing, Hawke slipped beneath the covers and rested a hand over her eyes. She’d thought they would be gone from here by now, had thought they’d already set out for the Western Approach and whatever waited for them there. But—amassing an army and getting it to move took a great deal more time than she’d expected. They would leave within the week, certainly, but it still didn’t feel soon enough. 

No; no. There was nothing she could do about the Inquisition right now. 

Gravitic rings and telekinetic bursts. These, she knew. She turned her mind to the experiment the Inquisitor had proposed until she was too tired to think. When she dropped off to sleep at last, she did so occupied with the thought of experiments and logic, not the pressure of time.

For the first time in days, she actually slept through the night.

|

“What’s happening over here?” Varric asked some time later, and the three mages peered down from the upper level of the ruins. 

It was hot in the Western Approach, to say the least. They’d been up here long enough that the pale Inquisitor was noticeably pink about the cheeks. They probably ought to find shelter from the sun soon, it was only—well. It’d been ages since Maria had worked magic in tandem with someone else, and it was invigorating. She almost hadn’t noticed the time passing at all, but the angle of the sun indicated they’d been up here far too long. 

“Varric!” Aisling called, waving. “Stay right there. We’ll show you!” 

When she nodded to Hawke, the two of them gestured and called forth their respective magics. Dorian, who’d taken more than one turn in either of their places by now, took a long-dry carafe and hurled it into the stream of the first spell. For a moment, it flew through the air, cartwheeling end over end as it was caught in the force of the telekinetic spell. Then, while Maria held the gravitic ring steady, the carafe hit the perimeter of her spell and slowed noticeably. 

Varric, who’d taken several steps back when Dorian threw the carafe, approached slowly. 

“Huh,” he said, and caught the pottery when Maria released the spell. 

“Isn’t it lovely?” she said, clapping twice. “Can you imagine if we’d figured this out sooner? The things I could’ve thrown in my foyer at the manor. But wait—there’s more. We started toying with the rotation of the ring and—”

“—if we are careful about how we aim it—” Aisling interjected, and Maria gestured in agreement. 

“—it can even be used to redirect objects already in motion, so long as there was sufficient force behind it to begin with,” Maria finished in a rush, rocking from foot to foot in excitement. 

“Perhaps you’d better stand back,” Dorian told Varric. “I don’t know about you, but I didn’t especially enjoy having a rock thrown at my head.”

“Oh, it was a complete accident—you’re fine now,” Maria said, waving a hand, and he cast her a sidelong glance. 

“Yes, I rather find that healing magic has that effect,” he said drily. “Well, then. Ready, all?” 

“Yes,” the other two mages echoed, and this time Dorian tossed a rock into the force of the first spell. Hawke adjusted the second, concentrating on the way it spun, and they all watched the rock turn in midair and shoot off over the dunes. After a moment, there was a distant thud, and the three mages cheered. 

“Hang on,” Maria called to Varric. “We’re coming down. It’s time for a break, I think.” 

They made their way down the ladder one at a time and Maria drank from her waterskin while she waited for the others. Obviously, she’d known that this would be a desert. She’d known it would be hot, but she hadn’t figured on the air itself being so dry. It felt like she was forever reaching for water to wet her parched throat. 

“Drink,” she told the Inquisitor when the other woman reached the ground. Aisling took her waterskin and drank while the two of them moved into the shade. 

“There a purpose for this trick of yours?” Varric asked, ducking under the other side of the ruins. 

“Always best to keep busy,” Maria told him. “Also, Cullen has banned us from playing with the trebuchet and this is a nice substitute.” 

“Well, perhaps part of the problem is that you continue to call it playing with the trebuchet,” Dorian informed her, capping his own waterskin. “Somehow, he found that less charming than the rest of us.”

“Fie,” Hawke said, flicking her braid back over her shoulder. “The man must have a sense of humor somewhere. I’ve just got to dig a little deeper.”

“Well, they are very difficult to manage,” Aisling said absently, examining a patch of reddened skin on her forearm. “They each take a whole team of bronto to move, you see, and calibrating them properly can be very time-consuming.” 

Hmm, Maria thought. Varric’s comment about the Commander not meaning the Inquisitor harm came to mind again. The woman was friendly enough that it could mean nothing, but…well. She chose to keep her thoughts to herself. 

“In any case,” Hawke said, “this is a suitable substitute. It might even be helpful in the battle to come, I suppose, if your mages can learn it in time.” 

They spoke more as they made their way back to the camp, though the latent exhaustion from standing in the sun and working magic for hours gradually slowed the talk to a crawl. The four of them separated as they neared the camp, each stepping away to clean up. When Maria had finally changed into lighter clothing, she heard a soft sound outside her tent. 

“Inquisitor?” she called, nudging the mess of clothes under her cot and out of the way. 

“Yes,” Aisling replied, “do you have a moment?” 

“Of course; come in,” Maria said. 

Aisling entered, carrying a small, familiar pot of ointment. Maria would have known it from the smell even if she hadn’t already become very acquainted with it. 

“Sunburn?” she asked, holding out a hand, and the Inquisitor nodded miserably. There were already streaks of green over her arms, the skin beneath a bright pink in contrast. 

“If you can do your weather trick, I’ll get whatever you can’t reach,” Hawke told her, “or heal any of the blistered pieces, if you’d like.”

“Just the ointment is fine,” Aisling said, sketching runes in the air. The air in the tent cooled gradually, filled by a fresh breeze from nowhere at all. Hawke sighed in relief and took the little jar of ointment from Aisling. 

“I should’ve worn longer sleeves,” the elf murmured, sitting on the edge of the cot and tipping her head forward. Maria sat beside her and removed the lid from the jar. 

“Probably,” Hawke agreed, carefully smoothing a swathe of elfroot ointment over the back of Aisling’s shoulder. “We’ll have you right as rain soon enough, and it was time well spent nevertheless.”

“Hmm,” Aisling said, and added after a moment. “Are you…feeling better?”

There was a hesitance to the question that Maria understood at once. Do we know each other enough for me to ask? she was saying. 

“Yes, somewhat,” Maria admitted, and gathered more sharp-smelling salve. “Thank you—for all the distractions. I am grateful, truly. You’ve been a—a good friend to me.”

“Oh!” Aisling said, glancing back at her. “I’m glad you think so.”

There was a moment of silence. It would have been easy to fill—both of them were fond of talking—but Maria let the silence rest for a moment instead. Sometimes thoughts had to be given space to breathe before they could be spoken aloud. This seemed like one such occasion. 

“Before you came,” Aisling said at last, her voice very quiet, “I did not think we would like each other. Everyone—so many of them wanted you instead. Before I became the Inquisitor, I mean. I was so sure you’d know what to do where I don’t. I thought, if you’d been at the Conclave instead…”

“I would have died,” Maria told her, for she’d thought about the same thing many times. “Truly. It had to be you. The Chantry was more than half-convinced that I was personally responsible for what happened in Kirkwall. Can you imagine if I’d been the only one left standing after the death of the Divine? They would’ve killed me outright, even if I’d actually survived the destruction at the Conclave.” 

She sighed, setting the little jar aside, and nudged Aisling. The elf turned to look at her, her usual expression replaced by one far more somber. 

“When I told you before that you’re doing great, I meant it,” Hawke said, patting the Inquisitor’s hand. “Really. How could anybody look at all you’ve achieved and think otherwise? And that’s just on the surface. Knowing more—knowing some of what happened in Redcliffe—you’ve a great deal to be proud of.”

“Yes,” Aisling said, squeezing her hand in turn. “I was going to say—I was relieved when you didn’t agree with them. I’m glad you came.”

“Me, too,” Hawke said, smiling. “How else would I have thought to put a fully dressed skeleton in a trebuchet? Who else would have painted targets on boulders with me so we could use them for magical experiments?” 

Aisling laughed. Some of the serious air dissipated, and their conversation turned to other topics. The time for the battle drew very near—only one more day, perhaps two before they would need to make their assault on the keep. There wouldn’t be much more time for this sort of camaraderie. They couldn’t know what would come next; perhaps much of the world’s brokenness would be fixed after the battle. Perhaps it would grow worse. Either way, she was grateful she’d be facing it down amongst friends. 

For months, Hawke had wondered if the rift in the sky was somehow her own fault. Maybe it was. But—now that she’d met the Inquisitor, now that she knew Aisling herself, it was easier to set some of the regret aside. If there was somebody she trusted with the weight of all this, it had to be Lavellan. She had a good head on her shoulders and an earnest interest in understanding how the world worked. If somebody was going to have power over a large swathe of Thedas, Maria’d rather it be someone who wanted to understand why things were the way they were. Also—and this was crucial—she gave excellent hugs.

[doonarose]

For the WIP ask, I’d love to hear more about Exhibit A!

You may have guessed but this is the exhibitionism WIP. A few lovely people commented on the slight exhibitionism itch that I had in the South Downs Rimjob fic, with Crowley torn between being horrified at the idea of being caught being fucked over the kitchen sink, while also kind of unexpectedly aroused at the idea.

And I'm easily swayed by kind words so I started thinking about it. Except it's not easy to get them to exhibitionism (for me, anyhow) and I've spent far too long wondering why it works for Crowley. The WIP starts with:

Developing an exhibitionism kink is a natural psychological trauma response to having previously been punished for displays of affection, attraction, love and desire.

(Which is rubbish pseudo-psychology but a nice jumping off point.) So it's set early sexual relationship:

And so it is that one morning, while surveying the Spring’s new bounty of ducklings at St Jame’s Park, Crowley turns to Aziraphale and asks, “Does it turn you on when we almost get caught fooling around?”

Aziraphale blinks slowly at him and then turned back to the ducks. He thinks for a long moment as Crowley split defrosting peas with his thumb nail before flicking them towards what he assumed was the mother duck. “No, I don’t think so,” Aziraphale answers, eventually.

And then Aziraphale drags more of the confession out of him during soft dom sex, because of course he does:

Kink is meant to be discussed and negotiated, but not like this.

That Aziraphale still doesn’t really understand that what they’re doing, right now, is also, somewhat kinky, is also reflective of some rather significant blind spots. Fortunately for them that have quite a long history of being oblivious and muddling through, anyway. But Crowley knows, or at least suspects, that he’s harbouring a submissive streak a mile wide, but there’s absolutely no reality in which he’d ever admit to it.

Except, he supposes, if Aziraphale were to ask him now.

Crowley thinks it's the fear of getting caught.

So they try that, I think in the bookshop, and it is hot and steamy, until they actually are caught by someone and that's mortifying. So they have to reconsider.

Which is when they start to realize it's Crowley wanting more praise. More people watching him be good, watching him give himself over and follow instruction and be so very, very good for Aziraphale. He gets off on the idea of other people seeing that, explicitly. I think there's a scene in a pub where Aziraphale strokes him off through his trousers under the table and there is a woman watching, impressed, rapt, and enjoying, while Aziraphale whispers things in Crowley's ear like, "She can see how wonderfully hard you get for me. How responsive. How well you're doing to keep yourself quiet. She thinks you're stunning like this, too. Although she knows she'll never get to experience it. Why, Crowley?"

And he's lost to it, because this, this kind of exhibitionism is working for him way too well, and he hasn't got the script yet so Aziraphale has to explain it to him, " Because you're mine, only mine to touch. They can look but never touch, never make you come."

He does then, and now Aziraphale's got buy in because he likes people see him possessive and in control. Because it's proof he possesses and is in control. And so off they go to some sort of sex club to try things properly.

And that is what Exhibit A (B, C, D, E) would be if I ever get my act together.

[mediocre-daydreams]

(ch.2) what it takes to heal

what should’ve been said

pairing: james potter x female! reader

summary: there’s no protocol for sexual assault. blame is being doled out everywhere, but you don’t need the chaos of an investigation right now. you just need james to hold you and tell you you’re safe.

warnings: descriptions and allusions to sexual assault, implied spiking of drinks, alcohol, angst

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: if u can’t tell by the title, these are the words i wish somebody had told me back then. most of this is just a regurgitation of my reaction to my experiences tbh but despite how hard it is to write this, it’s freeing to finally get these words out and i hope maybe it can make someone feel less alone

James was incorrigible. The minute he felt you collapse against his back, it was as if his fight with Sirius had never occurred. “Hey, who the hell-” he spun around just in time to see you wobble, calling his name weakly, before melting into his hands like soft dough. Seeing his friend in distress, Remus peeled you from James’ tightening grip, leading you over to a couch. You curled up against the couch’s arm, swaying as you struggled to stay awake. It was a pointless fight.

“What- what is this? What’s going on?” James was panicking, hands coming to tug harshly on his hair. He had decided not to drink tonight, knowing you’d be there and wanting to make a good impression. He’d sworn to stay by your side and keep you safe, to make sure you had a good time. Fuck, he even made sure not to pour you too strong of a drink. The only reason he’d left you—and he had only meant to be gone for a few minutes at most—was to make sure there wouldn’t be anybody at the party who could ruin your night. By leaving you alone, had he been the one to do just that?

“Move! Out of my way!” Marlene could be heard shoving through a wall of Regulus’ Slytherin friends, meeting you by the couch, and practically forcing Remus off. “Don’t touch her.”

Lily and Dorcas were by your side almost instantaneously. The three of them formed a semblance of a triangle—Marlene brushed your hair, standing over your left shoulder, Lily was perched on the couch cushion next to you, and Dorcas leaned on the same arm of the couch you were laying against. The four of you had never been to a house party without each other. None of you had ever come across something like this.

“Who do you think did this? Was it bloody Snivellus? I’ll kedavra him, I swear-” Marlene sneered, feeling around the back of her trousers for the wand in her pocket.

“Sev wouldn’t- Severus wouldn’t do something like this. I get it, he’s horrid, but he’s not completely evil.” Lily admitted, still wary of jumping to conclusions.

“You don’t think it was one of those Slytherin blokes, do you?” Dorcas whispered, eyes narrowing at the group of boys near Regulus, the same ones Marlene had pushed to get to you.

“As much as I’d love an excuse to beat up some blood purists, they’ve been with Regulus all night. Pretty sure she was fine before she left. Does anyone even know where she went?”

“Are you sure? Because that one in the gray looks awfully-”

Regulus looked worried as he made his way to James’ side, arms crossed stoically. James hadn’t stopped pacing since he’d seen you. He hadn’t done anything much else, really, but mumble to himself and tug at his face, as if trying to pull himself out of the expanse of his own guilty thoughts.

“Oi, mate. Your girlfriend isn’t gonna get any better if you just mope around like a boneless chicken wing. She’s quite literally there, y’know? Just- do whatever you Gryffindors do. Valor, ‘n shit.” Regulus’ eyes, despite his tone, shone with concern as he slapped James on the back. “We’re gonna head out. Let us know if you need anything.” James assumed he meant his Slytherin posse, which trailed behind the younger Black as the ensemble of well-groomed boys retreated out the portrait hole.

“She’s not my-” James caught himself. Merlin, all he could think about was making you his, when you were passed out on a couch in front of him. What a bastard. What an absolute arsehole he was, James Potter.

You coughed, mouth pulling into a downward smile as you tried to look at one of the three doting faces hovering around you. “Hey,” you croaked.

“Good heavens, I’m not sure if I want to kiss you or kill you,” Lily gasped, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m so glad you’re awake,” she looked around at your roommates. “We didn’t know what to do.”

At the sound of your voice, James practically flung himself at your feet, groveling.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re okay. Are you okay?” He took both your hands, slightly cold, into his bigger, warmer ones, bringing them up to his mouth. He contemplated kissing them but settled for blowing warm air between your palms and helping you rub your hands together. “You’re okay, right? You’re gonna be okay.” He sniffed, eyes stormy as he tried to read your mind.

“I’m,” you wanted to laugh. You couldn’t remember how you had come to be in the center of a crowd of your worried friends, having James Potter at his knees for you. “Why are you all so,” you wheezed, trying to clear the phlegm out of your throat, “jittery?”

“I’m worried about you, love.” Your heart grew at the sound of his nickname for you rolling so easily from his lips. “You’re not- c’mon, humor me here.” Lily looked at him skeptically but she still shifted down so James could take the spot right next to you. His forehead was wrinkled and you wanted nothing more than to smooth out the lines with your thumb, but you couldn’t breathe with his face so close, his eyes boring into yours searching for some semblance of an answer.

“I really don’t remember anything,” you laughed uneasily, knowing that there had to be something amiss. The party was still going strong; perhaps the flashing lights and loud music were making you confused?

Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas looked at each other knowingly. The boys might not’ve caught on, but that looming threat was a reality of your lives that the three of them had finally been forced to put a name to. “You left for a bit,” Dorcas said hesitantly, “after James left. Where did you go?”

At the sound of his name, James tensed and pulled you into him a little closer. You relished the feeling. His fingers wrapped around your waist just as they had at the beginning of the night, tapping lightly at the indent between your ribcage and your hip absentmindedly. You shivered.

“Got a drink,” you recalled. “James gave me Otter’s. Wanted more.” You smiled imperceptibly, remembering the taste of the sweet orange-vanilla drink on your tongue. “They didn’t have more.” You frowned a bit when you remembered that.

When nobody spoke, and James continued to look at you with those doe eyes of his, you took that as your cue to continue. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly as you adjusted yourself in his lap. “Uh, they were out. I can’t-” you closed your eyes tightly, digging as far as you could for the memories of the hour. “You helped me, James. I hate grapes.” You buried your face into his shoulder, where he could feel your lips curling into a smile. “Worst flavor.”

Your friends looked at James suspiciously. His heart dropped. What did you mean, “he helped you?” He hadn’t seen you since the beginning o the party! “I swear, I didn’t-”

“Whatever, James. We’ll deal with your shit after.” Marlene held a hand up. Lupin and Sirius looked between the two parties, unsure of where to stand or what to do.

“Yeah, you helped me, James. Got me gigglewater. It worked!” You hiccuped. “Was fun… I like spending time with you, Jamie. Sometimes I pretend I don’t, but I do.” It was everything James had ever wanted to hear. Not only did you like spending time with him, but all those times you had supposedly hated him hadn’t been real. It didn’t make him feel any better though; if anything, worse. You had trusted him and he had let you down.

“Gigglewater…” you giggled. Your friends looked at you with another wave of doubt.

“Did James-” Sirius began before James sent him a hard kick to the ankle. “Did you see anyone after?” You nodded absently.

“Yeah, these guys. A Slytherin, some Huffles… Ravenclaws… but not as funny as you, Sirius.” You laughed again at that too, though nobody laughed with you. (It kind of hurt your feelings.)

Dorcas’s lip curled. “Fucking Slytherins…”

“James is nice. Gave me his jacket.” You wrapped your arms around the real James, your hands gliding across his back as you looked for the jacket you had been sleeping under.

“James never worse a jacket tonight,” Remus said, puzzled.

“S’okay! He’s a wizard.’ You grinned as if you had solved all the world’s secrets. “Nice guy. Gave me a hug. He hugged me. A hug. A hug…” A violent wave of tremors overtook you as things started returning to you.

“No! Get off me! Stop touching me, you pervert! Go!” You came to your senses, shoving yourself off of James with as much force as you could muster and crawling away from him, almost throwing yourself into Remus’ arms. Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas looked murderous.

“Potter, want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” Lily’s wand was out, held right under James’ chin. Sirius grabbed her free arm, but she shook him off. “You heard her! She said it was Potter! You- what did you do?”

“Lily! It’s James! You know, the same stupid James with the stupid hair! He’d never- you know he wouldn’t!” Nobody would say the words. Nobody would say them because saying them made it real. You almost wish somebody would say it. None of this felt real. “You know he’d never do that. He’s even stopped with Snivellus.” Lily went limp at the sound of her ex-friend’s name, angry tears collecting in her waterline.

“Explain! Somebody, explain.” Marlene held up a hand, the other clutching Dorcas’ for support with such strength that both their knuckles were pale. Remus still held you to his chest, his hand cupping the back of your head with your eyes staining his shirt; one of the few nice shirts he had. You felt horrible. James watched as Remus consoled you. That should be me. Holding you, making sure you’re okay. Instead, I’m the one who hurt you. And I’m the one who keeps wishing for things even when I’ve done something wrong.

“I swear, I didn’t touch her. I didn’t pour her anything except for the Otter’s; I swear, I would’ve never given her gigglewater, you have to believe me. I was just yelling at Sirius for not keeping an eye on her, I’m fully aware she doesn’t take to strong alcohol well, and I’d never-” James gasped, tears forming in his eyes. He wiped them away with his sleeve stubbornly. “I’d never do anything like that to her. Or to anyone. Fuck, all I’ve ever wanted to do was protect her.” His voice was wavering now, and catching sight of you stirring in Remus’ arms, he stopped his frantic pacing and dropped down to his knees in front of you. “Please, Remus, let me see her.”

The girls eyed him warily, eyes glancing up to you to gauge your reaction.

“James?” You murmured. “James, ‘s that you?” James didn’t move until your hand stretched out, uncoordinated, running through the air to try and touch his face. Your vision was still blurry, and he had to reach out to take your hand so that you could find him. He flinched as his hand made contact with yours, terrified that you’d panic.

“It’s me, darling. It’s James, I’m here,” he cooed, sniffing and trying to hold his composure in front of the common room. “Are you okay? No, that’s stupid, you’re not…” He shook his head to regain his thoughts. “What’s going on, love? Can you talk to me?”

“James, c’mere.” You held your arms out. “I’m not scared of you James. Made a mistake. He looked a lot like you, y’nno. ‘S why I trusted him so much. I trust you, James.” Your hands grabbed for him, fisting the soft fabric of his jumper and pulling him closer with a weak grip. “Please, can you just hold me?”

James’ face burned as he felt the stares of your friends on him. Lily’s eyes were trained on him with such intensity that he thought, if Lily had learned to do wandless magic, his hair would’ve been on fire by now. Remus shifted out of the way as James came closer, transferring the weight of your body over to the other boy. As soon as James’ arms were around you, you buried your head into the warmth of his chest. He looked down at you, gravity pulling the accumulated tears from his eyes. The two of you stayed in each others’ embraces for a while; you savored the safety that came with James’ familiar touch. Your friends were whispering as they watched, and eventually, Sirius, Peter, and Remus decided that they’d best leave the two of you alone.

“Want us to wrap up the party, Prongs?” Peter asked gently, not commenting on his friend’s emotional state. James nodded, and Peter trod off solemnly, beginning to usher the crowd out of the portrait hole. Remus began cleaning up trash and Sirius headed towards the drinks.

“I’m gonna go help.” Marlene muttered, making her way over to Sirius. Dorcas shot Lily a concerned look before taking the opposite side of the room as Remus, waving her wand to skillfully float crumpled napkins and cups from off the ground.

Lily didn’t budge. She squinted at James apprehensively as he caught her eye, and he sighed deeply. “Lily, I get it. ‘M probably not the most trustworthy person to you, but I swear, I’d rather be strangled by the giant squid before I let anything happen to her. And if you want me to go, I can go. But… please, Lily.” His voice was small, and there was a lingering sentiment in the air that James couldn’t quite voice. Lily seemed to understand because she gave him a curt nod and harsh sniff before turning on her heel to meet Dorcas.

Now, it was just you and James curled up in the corner of a plush couch. Your head would occasionally jerk up as you tried to stay awake, your grip on James’ jumper faltering as you began to doze off.

“No, you have to stay with me, okay? I need you to tell me what’s going on before you forget. C’mon, I need you to stay awake, yeah?” James shook you gently, studying your face. There was a dopey smile across your lips, one that unnerved him as it contrasted with the terror of the situation. Your eyelids were fluttering and your eyelashes, coated so carefully in mascara from the beginning of the night, had rubbed off and was smudged underneath your eyes. Your nose was tinged with red and your skin felt clammy, but still, you looked up at him with an adoration in your eyes that made his stomach twist with guilt. He didn’t deserve that look, not when he let this happen to you.

“You thought it was me?” He whispered, horrified. You sobered, eyes snapping up to him as you were reminded of what you had been originally discussing.

“Yeah, I did.” You rubbed your nose ungracefully. “He had glasses, like you. Sweet, too. Gave me his jacket, like you do sometimes.” You smiled up at him, but he didn’t return it, waiting for you to continue. You furrowed your brows in concentration, looking down at your lap to pull out the blurry memories.

“Ha, we should ask Dumbledore for his pensieve,” you snorted, trying to lighten the mood.

“Dove…”

“Right, okay. Uh, it gets fuzzy here,” you murmur, straining for puzzle pieces. “He introduced me to his friends, ‘n we talked a bit.” You shook your head, desperate to clear your clouded senses. You pinched your cheek. You held your breath. Nothing was any clearer.

“Think I talked about trousers, for a bit,” you laughed at your drunken antics. “How I had wished—oh, shit.” Your eyes widened. “Oh shit. James, I think I remember. James, I think I remember, and it wasn’t good, James, James, please James,” your hands began trembling, and you moved them around his body looking for the best leverage. They settled at his biceps, and you squeezed, an ache spreading through your muscles.

“James, no, I don’t want to do this, James.” Fuck, the tears were coming back. You didn’t want to cry in front of James. You didn’t want to think about this at all. “No, James, I’m not talking about this. I don’t want it to happen. It didn’t happen.” You’re frantic now, nails digging into his skin.

James’ arms pull you in even tighter, and you let yourself go limp inside his embrace. He soothed you, one hand rubbing the small of your back as the other weaved its way through your hair. You were shivering, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, from the event, or from the way he was touching you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be touched right now. But you weren’t sure if you wanted to be away from James. You thought you might die if you left his arms; they were the only place where you felt safe, protected, pure.

James didn’t say anything. What was there to say? I’m sorry. What was he sorry for? For abandoning you? For letting it happen? He didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’ll kill him. And he would if he knew who the boy in question was. He’d kill him slowly and painfully, and maybe he’d let the school know of his crimes before he took the boy’s life so that his legacy would be tarnished even after death. James would do all of it for you, but he couldn’t. Not now, not when you were holding on to him as if he was the only thing anchoring you to the world.

“My love…” James let himself cry. He let himself bury his head into your hair and he let himself catch the scent of your shampoo, and he let the tears flow freely as a million worst-case scenarios raced through his mind, like Cornish pixies as they wreaked havoc in their path of flight.

“James…” You let yourself cry too, and you nuzzled your face even closer to his chest as you sobbed. He could feel the dampness of your tears seeping through the thin fabric at his chest, and he could feel the vibrations of each shuddering breath you took. Each one pierced his heart a little more.

Between desperate gasps for air and violent hiccups, you spat out the words that you had been searching for the entire night.

“He- hic! He tried to touch me- hic! There, you- hic! You know? And I was scared, James. I was so, so- hic! Hic! I was so scared. I wanted you to be there, James. You would’ve- hic! Known what to do.” You weren’t getting enough air. Your head was beginning to fog up again.

“Hey, hey, breathe f’me, okay? Look at me. Come on, look at me.” James grabbed your chin forcefully, trying to compensate for how much he was shaking. He took your hand and put it on his chest as he took a deep inhale. “Breathe with me, okay?” His eyes, which were as red as the Gryffindor banners, refused to leave yours.

You struggled with the breathing exercise. It took you over ten minutes to return your breathing to a consistent intake of air, but even then, your heart was pounding so quickly you felt like it might start skipping beats before it collapsed altogether.

“James, I couldn’t do anything,” you choked. “I just let it happen, James. I- I lost it all. I had no courage. When it finally counted, I couldn’t even be brave.” You gaped for air, making fish-like noises, but you didn’t care. You really, truly thought you might die if you didn’t keep breathing. “Am I even a Gryffindor? I can’t even do that one thing, I just let it happen, I just wanted someone else to come and save me, I just wanted you-”

“Don’t say that.” James hissed, pushing you away from him. “Don’t you say that about my favorite girl. You’re so strong,” his eyes darkened. “And he’s the coward. Taking advantage of you, getting you drunk, he’s the coward, he is. Not you.” James held you by the shoulders, thumbs pressing up from under your chin to keep your head elevated. “You’re wrong, baby. You are brave. You’re here, telling me what happened. You’re confronting it head-on and that takes real courage. I don’t see any cowardice from you. I only see strength. Look at you. You’re here, you’re alive, and you’re breathing, aren’t you? He’s gone, and you’re still here.

“And right in front of me is the picture of rebellion. He tried to hurt you, he tried to take away your spirit, and he tried to destroy your autonomy. But in the end, it’s not about him. He’s vile and he’s nothing and he’ll never be anything. In the end, it’s you. It’s you, because you’re still here. These tears?” He smiled sadly and brushed the pad of his thumb underneath your eyes. When he pulled his finger away, it was stained black. “These tears are proof that you’re still human. You’re still you, baby.

“He tried to take away your power, but you know, it takes real power to still be here. He tried and he failed. You’re so strong, love, you’re so strong. So strong.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head, giving you what you thought might’ve been soft kisses, between each utterance.

“James, I’m tired.” You blinked heavily. “I’m so tired, James. I’m tired of this and I’m tired because I need to sleep. Can you take me to bed, please?”

James blushed. “Yeah, I’ll take you up.” He draped your arms around his neck, allowing your head to rest upon his shoulder as he swept you up by the legs. His fingers dug into your thighs and your calves dangled freely.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Marlene was nearly snarling as she caught sight of James quietly taking you up the stairs.

“Bringing her up, I swear! She’s heavy, I don’t know if you’ll be able to carry her.” As much as Marlene wanted to take offense, James was right.

“You think I’m heavy?” You grumbled.

“Not what I meant, love. Nothing wrong with being heavy. Marls is just small. You’re no trouble for me.”

You seemed satisfied with that answer. When James set you on your bed, you were already half asleep. You curled in on yourself, and even with the lights off, he could see the goosebumps forming along your arms as you rubbed them to warm yourself. He moved to tuck you in but took note of your red slip.

Should he help you change? You couldn’t be comfortable in your jewelry and dress. And if you woke up in them tomorrow, would you be reminded of tonight? But in the end, they were your clothes. And would it be fair to try and change you when you were drunk and verging on unconsciousness, even if it was completely well-intentioned? You had already lost so much of your control today.

Control, he thought. You should be able to make your own decisions about your own body. He’d just offer you the pyjamas, he figured. But going through your drawers? That was also invasive. He dashed out of your room and returned just as quickly, this time with a bundle of his own clothes in his arms. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching as your eyes slowly opened and blinked until his face came into focus.

“James? What are you still doing here?”

“Brought you some clothes. D’you wanna change? I didn’t want to do it for you, it felt wrong.”

“Thank you, James.” The corners of your mouth turned up in gratitude. “It… means a lot. And yeah, I’d like to change.” You took the clothes from him and began slipping out of your dress. James let out a strangled noise.

“Ah! I’ll leave, I’m so sorry.” He rushed towards the door.

“No! Please- uh, will you stay? Just don’t look right now. But could you just stay for a few minutes?”

James nodded silently. You pulled on the clothes he had given you—they weren’t your own. You were quick to identify them as his, though. You could recognize his cologne. Soon, the worn cotton of his shirt filled your nose with his comforting presence, and you opted out of his sweatpants, which kept slipping down your hips. You grabbed a pair of something that resembled shorts off the ground and slipped them on instead.

“Okay, I’m done.” He turned, and the both of you flushed under each other’s gazes.

“You look… you look good, all things considered.” His mouth was pursed so tightly that his lips had disappeared. His skin looked pale under the moonlight that crept in through the window.

“Are you okay?” You whispered. The room was quiet enough that your voice was able to fill up the entire space.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, dove.” James approached you tentatively. “Are you comfortable with me touching you?”

You nodded. James wrapped his arms around you once more, bringing you to flush against his chest as your arms found a place around his waist.

“I care about you, a lot. Probably more than I should.” James confessed breathlessly. “It scares me sometimes. How far I’d be willing to go for you.”

“Don’t say that, James. Nobody is worth sacrificing your integrity for.”

“But you are. For you, I’d sacrifice anything. Everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. What were you supposed to? James interrupted your thoughts. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know what you mean to me. And now you know, I guess.”

“Will you stay a little longer? I don’t want to go to sleep right now,” you wriggled yourself out of his hold, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “I’m- I’m afraid to close my eyes. I’m scared to dream. But mostly, I’m scared that I won’t be able to do anything this time. If I’m not awake.”

James’ face was nothing short of devastated by your words. “Of course. I’d do anything for you, remember?” He tried for a smile, but it came out more like a grimace. You gave him your own sleepy smile.

“C’mere.” You propped yourself up on a few pillows so that your back could rest comfortably against the headboard, and patted the space beside you. James looked cautious, but you mouthed your reassurances to him. When he finally crawled beside you, the mattress sunk under his weight. He laid flat on his back, eyes staring straight into the ceiling as you observed his face from your sitting position.

“Thank you for everything, James. I don’t think that I’d be… okay, if you weren’t here.” You fumbled in the dark for his hand, tangling your fingers in his. You could feel the bed shift as his body finally relaxed.

You sighed. “And you’re right. I shouldn’t have said those things about me not being a Gryffindor. You were right when you said I was strong. I am strong, I really am. Thank you for reminding me of that. And I hope- I know that one day, I’ll be okay. And it’ll be because I had you, James. It’ll be because I’m strong.

You squeezed James’ hand absentmindedly. “I’m not scared of you, I hope you know that. The guy? I thought he was you, for a bit. D’you know why? Because he seemed to care, James. I trusted him because I trust you, and I still trust you, don’t worry. I didn’t mean any of it—the stuff I said when I was out of it, I mean. You’re always looking out for me. That’s why I thought he was you. ‘Cos you’re always taking care of me, and I never thank you properly for it. Thank you, Jamie.”

James finally squeezes your hand back. Not letting go, he props up on his elbow and turned to face you. His eyes glittered, watery and vulnerable as they met yours. “I’ve always cared about you, y’know? I guess I’m not very good at showing it. It’s hard for me to be… vulnerable, I guess. I’ve always admired your ability to do that—to be able to feel so freely. But you deserve someone who can tell you how they feel about you.”

You held your breath. Was this the moment he’d tell you how he felt about you? But nothing came. You closed your eyes, smiling sadly. You didn’t feel anything towards him anyway, so what did it matter? But you couldn’t chase the pang in your stomach. It had been a long night; ‘course your stomach was a bit upset.

“You’ve been plenty vulnerable tonight, Jamie. If that counts for anything.” Your fingers began moving on their own accord, breaking themselves out of James’ hold and slowly tracing them up his arm until they came to rest on his shoulder. He shuddered under your feathery touch. You shifted, coming down from your looming spot against the headboard until you were level with James on the bed, your head further down to avoid the stack of pillows which meant you were a couple centimeters below James’ shoulders.

“I dunno, lovey. But I’ll take your word for it. You’ve always been much smarter than me.” You rolled over to your stomach and pushed yourself up on an elbow so you could be eye-to-eye with him. You took his chin in your hands.

“Don’t say that about my favorite boy.” James’ mouth parted in surprise, but before he could speak, you knocked his elbow from underneath him so that he lost his balance and fell back onto the bed. You giggled, taking the opportunity to nuzzle into his chest. “You smell nice,” you whispered shyly.

“Do I, now?” He chuckled, chest vibrating under from where your head rested. His hand came up to run circles along your back.

“Mhm,” you agreed, closing your eyes in sleepy satisfaction. “Thank you, James. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” James let you ramble for a bit until you went silent. At first, he thought you were just enjoying the peace of the nighttime with him, but as your breaths evened out, he realized you had fallen asleep atop him.

Shit, Lily’s gonna slaughter me if she finds me like this. But if I move and she wakes up, she’ll refuse to go to sleep again. And she really should sleep, not only to recover from all that happened to her, but also sleep off the alcohol. She’s not used to all this; she’s gonna have a brutal hangover in the morning.

And, if James was being honest, he was in no rush to leave you. He was perfectly content to be beside you as you slept; it was the ultimate sign of trust. You’d felt safe enough around him to let your guard down, even after you’d confessed to not wanting to sleep in fear of something happening that you couldn’t control. And yet, you’d still asked him to stay. His heart skipped.

“You don’t see it, do you?” James muttered, mostly to himself. “You don’t even realize how much I love you.” With that, he let his eyes close.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

[nerves-nebula]

Zag on them bitches, never let them know your next move- TIME TO WRITE TRAUMA AGAIN

——

It was Donnie’s turn to do dishes. Raph had cooked them some really nice veggies with some weird sauce Casey had brought them that had been absolutely delicious. The texture was a little weird, so smooth versus the crunchiness of the vegetables, but the taste had been great. Even Splinter hadn’t found anything to gripe about when he grabbed his helping.

However, now that the food was eaten and in his stomach, his tongue was making its dislike of the texture known. He hated that he was so picky about food, he wished he could just subsist on liquids. A nice flavorless juice full of all the calories and vitamins he needed without any of the horrible feelings that came with things touching his tongue.

“Dumbass, you’ve been scrubbing the same dish for five minutes.” Leo’s snarky voice didn’t even manage to cut through the cloud of discomfort, only amplifying it.

“There was a stain.” He lied.

“Sure there was. Can you fuckin’ stay on Earth for long enough to talk?”

He frowned, looking Leo’s way. He took in his body language, the cock of his hip and the way he crossed his arms right over his chest.

Leo was in a bad mood.

“C-can’t you bother s-someone else?” Donnie huffed, setting aside the washed dish to grab another, “I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what? Coming up with a new way to disappoint your family?” Leo laughed, incredulous and mean, “Thinking of some new dumb robot that’ll inevitably go haywire and explode in your face? Making a new plan to get yourself kidnapped again?”

Donnie didn’t answer, just set another cleaned plate aside to dry.

“Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right.” Leo leaned in closer, “I should start up a bingo sheet of ways you manage to fuck up. See if I can manage to fill the whole board before a month is up. Free space would obviously just be ‘Sucks at Ninjutsu’.”

His tongue felt like it wanted to crawl out of his mouth. He could still feel the bristles of broccoli in his throat, trying to gag him. Carrots that were just too over cooked, feeling almost slimy in the new sauce.

“What other spaces could there be?” Leo mused, “Blowing up another dumb invention.” He counted on his fingers, “Refusing to eat. Never fucking talking. Getting kidnapped, of course. Screwing with mystic shit you were told to leave alone.”

His mouth was simultaneously too wet and too dry. He set the last plate aside and started the quick task of cleaning their utensils. These were easy. He could get this done and just leave.

“Saying something is bad when there’s literally nothing wrong with it.” Leo was still. Fucking. Going. “Getting sick again. Breaking your dumb glasses. I’d say disappointing Dad, but there’s so many ways you manage to do that that I’d have to split it into multiple spots!”

Spoons were easy. A quick scrub with a rag and they could be set aside.

His throat caught and he had to pause to stop himself from gagging.

“Oh, how about managing to ruin some of Mikey’s art with your dumb experiments and pissing him off? That’s a good one! Not common, it’ll be hard to tick that box off, but man when you piss off Mikey you really make sure to go all out!”

Forks. Finish the forks. Get the gunk out from between the tines and set them aside.

Fuck, he got wet food on his fingers and now he could feel the slimy texture over his palms, mixing with the soapy water in a textural nightmare.

“I could make two separate boxes for you breaking our plumbing and our entertainment systems with your idiotic upgrades and repairs.”

Why wouldn’t Leo ever just shut up? His stupid tongue always flapping away like he was paid per word that fell from his stupid lips. It wasn’t good enough for him to embarrass them constantly in front of Splinter, he had to come and individually harass them?

Forks were done. Last thing was the veggie knife.

He could take it and use it to cut out Leo’s tongue.

His eyes went wide as he stared at his hands. He could so easily envision it, grasping the knife and just quickly shoving it into his brother’s mouth. He didn’t need to be stronger than Leo, just had to surprise him. He would never expect it, he was vulnerable. Just wait until he opened his mouth to laugh at his own cruel jokes and slam the blade into his open maw. If he was lucky, the damage would be bad enough that he’d completely lose the ability to speak.

He quickly tossed the knife onto the drying rack and drained the sink.

“Man you’re such a space case.” Leo rolled his eyes again, pushing off the counter to start walking out of the kitchen, “Maybe I’ll go borrow some art supplies from Mikey to make my bingo cards.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Donnie with the vision of him laying on the ground, mouth bloodied and fear in his eyes.

The bad texture in his mouth was gone.

——

Tee hee

-Monster Anon

Where did you find this scene of my brother harassing me- the way I’ve imagined putting knives in his suitcase so he’d stab himself when he goes to unpack it. The way I’ve imagined bashing his head in while he’s talking to me <3

I’ve never experienced this kind of ghost-texture issues. Once it’s down that’s usually it for me. Though the lingering tastes can be excruciating.

Anyway I loved reading this and I’m going to eat it <<33

[applespider]

Whoever compared c!Tommy to c!Purpled saying one was drowning and the other was in a desert I hate you (<-I love you). I think it’s really fucking fascinating the way hurt characters make unfair reads on other hurt characters, characters like Tommy, Niki, Jack, Purpled, and I’d even argue, Puffy. It’s hard to say they just “don’t get it” because, well, they don’t, but the implication that they simply haven’t suffered enough is false. It’s one of those little things I like to pick apart in the shower, the way different characters are unable to provide sympathy as a defense mechanism, and the way this combines with the fact they suffered differently and that a lot of them felt their suffering invalidated!

I think Puffy’s relationship with the eggpire post-banquet is fascinating, particularly when Bad and Ant went to apologize for her. She struck me as, for lack of a better word, unfair. Unsympathetic. And I think this is a reaction a lot of characters had in order to defend themselves. Because it came off as logically unfair to me at the time, but damn if I didn’t feel that. Her care for them was abused, her attempts to help burned her again and again. A combination of flattening out the source of her pain in order to slow herself to feel it, in order to make it simple, and refusing to try again with this friendship. I was absolutely shit at keeping up with the eggpire lore so I’m not sure how their relationship developed after that, but Puffy’s streams around that time burned themselves into my brain.

Niki, and even more so Jack, do this a bit more obviously. Niki finding a singular person to blame, denying any past positive feelings for L’Manberg, isolating herself, these are all obviously psychological defenses. If she was tricked into loving something, her hurt can’t be her fault (and obviously it wasn’t but I think she was scared it was), if there’s a tangible target for her blame all this pain and fear and sadness has somewhere to go (but shoveling water out of the leaky boat doesn’t plug the hole), and being alone means safety (being alone means bone-cold nights, means no one to ask her if she’s eating, when the last time she slept was).

And everyone knows about Jack’s relationship with Tommy (it was so fucking good, someone wrote a post about Jack being a character who looked at Tommy in an antagonistic light for genuinely good reason. They were on very equal footing in their, admittedly very one-sided, feud. People saw the victim in Tommy, but Tommy hurt Jack and no one seemed to care, so he shut out Tommy’s hurt, to the point he so thoroughly prevented himself from seeing Tommy as a complete person at all. A more extreme version on Puffy’s reaction post-Banquet and Niki’s simplification. All the while failing to get Tommy to just fucking look at him. He could not show sympathy to Tommy because he could not find anyone to show sympathy to him. This is why his talk with Niki the day of the prison escape imprinted itself on me, these two attempting to set up a more proper friendship again, no strings attached this time.)

My mind if first, of course, drawn to Tommy talking to Jack post-revival. The way he completely brushes over everything Jack is trying to say, pulls attention back to himself, is unable to express sympathy as he’s still trying to process his own hurt. It’s a very obvious example, with Tommy’s awful experience being so fresh this defense mechanism really shows up. Tommy is a generally fairly empathetic person so it’s definitely interesting to see this side of him on such brazen display (another example being Jack’s exile death. Oh I think so much could be said about the way this comes out towards Jack specifically). Another smaller example I think of is his “tough skin” comment to Tubbo, he doesn’t want to talk about Tubbo’s hurt and more so he’s not really able to see it over his own, he’s laser focused on himself because everything in him is laser focused on keeping himself alive and relatively intact, the exact same reasoning for everyone else’s actions I brought up here.

I’m not exactly a Purpled expert but his character definitely appeals to me. For him to seems like this defense mechanism is much more ingrained. Not just overlooking others’ pain or flattening out objects of hurt, but intentionally narrowing his focus only to himself. His coldness and self-isolation are big parts of him, but what makes them incredibly engaging is every other aspect of him that slips through. Namely, that in succeeding in what previously mentioned characters only micro (or, frankly macro)dosed on, he was hit by another unexpected problem. Being super lonely actually does really bad shit to your sense of self-worth. He mastered the survival tactic but found himself craving something else, some proof of his worth (his existence). I think it’s nifty there a range from most subtle (Puffy) to most obvious (Purpled) examples of this one not great coping mechanism. Very cool.