I was wondering what sort of delectables I should ask Hawke to make for me next. Cheesecake-filled strawberries certainly sound like the sort of bites that lead to the removal of clothing.
(via coo-beastie)
Alright, my lovely, I’m going to answer you in reverse order. Firstly, yes I have. It can get awkward, but only if you really want something from your partner in the future. Without that sort of attachment, it shouldn’t matter as much. It happened once or twice to me, and I just made a point of no longer using my lover’s name since it can affect future relations, both professional and pleasurable. Instead, I prefer to give directions, like ‘more to the left’, ‘faster’, and ‘right there, don’t stop’. I would heartily suggest it. It makes for a better experience for all parties involved.
That said… how would I deal with it if Hawke ended our relationship? Three words, my lovely - drunken sex bender. I’d probably spend a week at the Blooming Rose, sampling all the delights they have to offer. But that’s not for everyone, and it isn’t the entirety of the recuperative process. You see, my darling, there are many factors to consider as well. Will you sever contact? Do you still have to see each other again? Was the separation amicable? These will all affect the healing of your wound.
Make no mistake, a breakup is indeed a wound and it is imperative you treat it as such. The seriousness of the wound is determined by how much you cared. For any wound, physical or emotional, there’s a normal method to heal it - you take what things you need to dull the pain, then you dress it, let it heal, and you don’t pick at it.
For me, the drunken sex bender is the part that dulls the pain. Such things are normal, and make you feel better, as long as you recognize them as a temporary solution. But you can’t just take painkillers, or you’ll just be miserable when you aren’t taking them. Even worse, you’ll eventually develop a tolerance, and won’t be able to enjoy them as much. It’s important that you use them when you need to, that’s what they’re there for. But they aren’t a real solution, and you’d do well to recognize that. You take them to get through the most painful part of the healing process, and then you grit your teeth and deal with the rest of it, slow as it may be.
The second part is to dress the wound. If the relationship is over, then make sure that in your head and your heart, you recognize it as such. Make sure that you’re alright with yourself. It doesn’t matter what others think, feel, or say. It’s whether you’re alright with yourself. If Hawke dumped me, I’d remind myself that I’ve been taking care of myself for my entire life before I met her, and I’d be perfectly capable of doing so again. I’d leave Kirkwall, see the world, and have many great adventures on my own. There’s more to the world than her, and while I’d miss her at my side, she doesn’t define me. I define me. Remember, bandages need to be refreshed regularly. The old ones may get blood or other nasty things on them, and you want to keep the environment as clean as possible to encourage healing. You need to reaffirm this to yourself, you need to be sure of yourself, and you need to do it whenever you may feel otherwise.
The third part of the process is to let it heal. You can’t expect a wound to immediately close up and be gone once you apply the herbs and bandage it. It will hurt until it naturally heals and repairs itself, and the only thing you can do is make sure that it’s clean and taken care of. These things take time, sweet pea. You may need more painkillers early, but the hurt will eventually lessen and once it does, you’ll be able to go again. Don’t just jump right in again before you’re finished healing, you run the risk of opening your old wounds and causing yourself even more pain and damage than before. Give yourself enough time that you know you’re ready. It will come naturally.
Fourthly, and for heaven’s sake, don’t pick at it. The more you pick at it, the more you analyze it, the more you approach it, the longer it will take to heal. Don’t think about what you did wrong, or what signs you missed, or what you could have done better. They won’t make you feel better, and it will only keep the wound fresh and retard the healing process. It’s an emotional wound, not a leaky boat that needs patching. You can’t hurry the process any more than you could hurry bones knitting. Recognize that, and you should be alright.
Finally, you should always expect some scarring. Wounds almost never heal completely cleanly, and they serve as living reminders of who we are and where we’ve been. They also make us stronger, and teach us about mistakes we’ve made.
I wish you luck, my sweet ninjakimja. Recuperating from injury, be it physical or emotional, is not an enjoyable activity. It hurts, it sucks, and it takes a long time. But the best we can hope for is that we come out of it stronger, smarter, and more experienced than before. Don’t be afraid of dosing yourself with painkillers from time to time. But remember, things will get better.
Oh my darling, this is a question that one simply can’t answer for another. It is difficult enough to pin down for myself, and there are many, many schools of thought. However, I will try to help you the best I can.
First and foremost, no one but you can tell you what your sexuality is. Don’t let anyone put a label on you. It doesn’t matter what they say, or who they are. They don’t know you. I don’t know you. You know you, and that’s all that matters.
When I seriously thought about it, I realized that there are many aspects to sexuality and feelings. They aren’t necessarily strongly tied together for everyone either. Allow me to explain.
There are people who I find sexually attractive, but have practically no romantic interest in whatsoever. I would happily spend a night or three boffing them sore, and enjoy every pleasurable moment doing so, but I couldn’t ever see myself with any or all of them long-term. It’s simply fun. I can admire their physical qualities, but I don’t find myself wanting to be with them for more than simply camaraderie and physical pleasure.
And then… there are people who I find I *do* want to be with. It’s definitely a different feeling, and even the physical sensations feel different when I’m with her. Them. *Ahem* Whatever. When you’re with someone you have feelings for, things are different as well. And those qualities that make you feel emotions can be (and often are) entirely different from those which simply make you feel lust.
This is the core of what most declare their sexuality is. No one is an open book, not even to yourself. It’s often like trying to find the shape of something covered up by a giant sheet. You may have a rough idea because of the bulges, but only by exploring it carefully and experimenting will you be able to tell that it isn’t a circle under that sheet, but a ring. It might be a bed, or a chair, or a table, or even a piano. How can you tell without adequate exploration? There are aspects of yourself that you likely aren’t aware of, and they must be understood for you to really know yourself.
I’ve always believed that sexuality is more of a sliding scale than a yes or no answer. One can prefer a specific kind of partner more than others, without locking oneself in to only that sort of partner forever. If you find yourself physically responding in a positive way to men, women, elves, dwarves, or even very specific people, then you’re probably sexual in that way to some extent. But the important thing is to explore, experiment and find out. Not everyone realizes what it is they want early on, and that’s perfectly alright. Just because someone else has figured it out early doesn’t mean that you are strange or abnormal because you haven’t. There are some people who go for their whole lives without figuring it out, and due to religious, social, political, or any number of other influences, they end up feeling terribly guilty about it when they really shouldn’t.
Ultimately it is about you, my lovely. Find what feels right to you. Don’t listen to other people, just search your heart (and other organs) and listen to your soul. You’ll find something that feels right, and it will be up to you to deal with your own sexuality in a thoughtful, mature way. As long as the parties involved are all consenting and mature, there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun and experimenting.
Oh my darling, Hawke was a terrible sailor when we began. When Hawke first came aboard, she thought that the aft was the part of her body I find very attractive. After a few trips out, she still couldn’t tell a forecastle from a foreskin. I had to take her firmly in hand and provide the right incentives to learn how it is done. After expending significant effort, I have realized that while she enjoys the benefits, it took me a while to show her the real benefits of sailing.
Hawke is very good with her hands, and she picks things up quickly, but for her it was always a chore to handle things. She could see the use of it - finding the fastest route from one point on a map to another has a lot of strategic value after all. But she never really enjoyed herself. She was always focusing on the next task, making sure the rigging was in place, making sure the boom was positioned right, and one of another hundred little tasks that all had to be done before one could relax. On a ship as large as mine, there’s never any shortage of tasks to be performed, and Hawke is the sort not to let things go when they need doing.
I finally got through to her one day, a few weeks after we had started her sailing lessons between monster attacks. I took her out on a twenty-foot dinghy for a picnic and a relaxing day away from the stresses of Kirkwall on a small island a few hours off of the Wounded Coast, and it was the first time she’d ever been on a smaller ship. At first, she leaped into it like she did on the full-sized ship, until finally she ran out of chores to do. She gave me the cutest little quizzical look, and I took her hands and placed them firmly on the wheel. I held her for a moment, letting her steer the ship and feel the wind in her face and watch the clouds float by as we made our way to the island. I let her continue at the helm, taking care of the small tasks myself, and I could see the small smile grow on her face.
The picnic was lovely, and we spent some time swimming in the sea and rutting on the sand. Eating chilled fruit after working up an appetite is a lovely way to spend an afternoon. On our way home she helmed the ship again, as the clouds began to darken. We had just lost sight of the island when I felt the first droplet of rain hit my arm. The rain picked up as we continued, spattering my skin and tunic with fat, wet droplets and the wind shortly after. I gave her a quick kiss and whispered in her ear a gentle reminder not to take waves broadside, and hopped to the deck. The waves began growing in size as Hawke’s tunic soaked through and plastered itself to her lanky body. She kept looking at me with worry in her eyes, but I continued to busy myself with the tasks on the ship and letting her deal with it. I was watching her move, learn, and shout commands like the true captain of a ship, as I hopped to. I had done my job well, and Hawke took us through that squall with a minimal number of mistakes.
When the storm finally broke, I remember brushing my dripping hair back and looking up at her. The rays of sunlight broke through the dark clouds and illuminated the ship with their warm glow. Her soaked, lean frame stood firm as the waters calmed again and she had that small, self-satisfied smile on her face. She shivered a little as she raised one hand to shield her eyes from the setting sun, but her hand was steady and sure at the wheel. I finished tying down the line and wrapped my arms around her waist, pressing myself into her from behind. She leaned back against me and whispered “I think I get it.”
She was half right. She got the rest of it that night when we got home.
When she recounted the tale to Varric later, she was full of wonder and excitement… how she was afraid we’d be lost at sea because of the six-foot swells, but how all of my slavish training had come to her when she needed it and how exhilarating the feeling of conquering the storm was, and how reassuring the sight of the sun was as it broke through the clouds. Varric did take a glance at me, and noted my self-satisfied smirk, but he didn’t see fit to mention it. He did comment that it was lucky she had managed to come through such an ordeal while looking at me, but I simply shrugged and told him how proud I was of her.
Is that what his name is? He never seems to be able to say anything while I am there.
When you look as good as I do, darling, you’re sure to attract your share of admirers. I used to dally with some of them on occasion, but as of late I’ve become accustomed to a certain level of proficiency in the boudoir. From the looks of it the poor boy wouldn’t know his left hand from his left testicle. I don’t think he’d meet my lofty standards.
You do bring up an interesting point of discussion I wanted to talk about, however. If this boy is waiting for the woman he fancies to say something to him, he’s setting himself up for failure. Did you know that when a person is looking for someone to be with, it always favors the pursuer? I didn’t quite understand it myself until Hawke explained it to me, but mathematically speaking, this is true. By risking rejection, you will always get your best choice that mutually consents to be with you.
If you are the one being pursued, then you only get your pick of those who choose you first. That may seem like a better option to some, since you don’t run the risk of rejection. But you’re limited to those who may choose you, and if you don’t like your choices, you’ve got to either risk or settle for what you have.
Personally, I refuse to settle.
Passion, Coke, and malice.:D
Bail, suicide, naked.
Ookay.
Crush, Fool, Flesh.
Sounds about right.
Not enough Aveline cosplayers.
Oh! Wow. This is wonderful.
*_*
You know what’s wrong with this picture? Not enough nakedness.
(via mashapotato)
Of course not, my lovelies. While on occasion she might not be the most knowledgeable, it’s not because of her that I’d become irritated - it’d be because I was already irritated by something else, and she said or did something to exacerbate it. And even if I ever get a little bit frustrated, all I have to do is look at innocent face, and it melts away.
That isn’t to say she hasn’t come close. There was one time when she invited me over to play cards, and I ended up ranting to her about how I hadn’t been physically satisfied for two weeks. But ultimately, one look at those big doe eyes of hers and I can’t stay angry at her.
Does it have to be just one? They’re all so delectable in their own way. It would be like when Hawke asks me what sort of cake I want to eat. I start thinking about each one and I have a hard time deciding, because I’d love to have a taste of each for different reasons.
Well… I don’t think Hawke would be so amenable to her sibling joining us. But aside from that…
Aveline would probably be nothing more than a wistful dream. She’s married, is happy, and regards Hawke more like a sister than a potential lover. And while I occasionally (and gleefully) imagine her red-faced embarrassment after a passionate tryst with me, I’m sure it would never come to actual fruition.
Merrill… I would love to show Kitten some real pleasure, because I think she deserves it. She needs to know she is loved, but I’m afraid I can’t give her the sort of feelings she deserves. She just needs to know that there will always be a place for her with Hawke and I. I’m sure of it.
Sebastian, Anders and/or Fenris: Mmmmm, ride that like I was breaking in a new stallion. They are all choice, decadent flavors of manflesh, and while I wouldn’t have any emotional involvement, it would probably feel so good that I wouldn’t care. At least not after I kicked them out of bed after the festivities had ended and sent them on their way.
Varric… is a bit of a special case. I could see Hawke and I being sex friends with him, similar to how I feel about Zevran. I’d never fall for him, but he’d be a pleasant encounter now and again in our lives whenever our paths happened to cross. Have our fun, then bid adieu until the next time we meet.
While I am not familiar with tumbleweeds in general, I’ve found that anything can be made interesting by adding stakes of one or more of the following:
1. Coin
2. Public humiliation
3. Alcohol
You make a game of it. Will the tumbleweed reach that rock over yonder, or will the wind change direction? Losers take a drink, pay out coin, or do something silly. Or you can get two or more tumbleweeds, and have tumbleweed races. I’ve tried that before with live lobsters (before Hawke cooked them) and a merry time was had by all, especially with the addition of rum.
Other qualities… the size of the tumbleweed, or the number of times it tumbles. I think that the tumbleweed will roll 10 times before it reaches the rock. You can choose over, under, or exactly 10 and see who wins. There’s plenty of fun to be had with tumbleweeds.
