#im getting worn down and ive barely done anything its embarrassing

[beinggayisreallyexpensive]

Didn't get the job 😔 back at it I guess

[janekfan]

ive been Searching and Craving for any scenario/canon divergent au where jon and tim make up because jon shows tim thats hes just as much a victim as anyone else and tim is just like... ah. so we're both assholes. and jon insists that tim didnt do anything wrong (and obviously its all very whumpy and hurt/comforty). basically just... tim and jon making up because tim wants to after jon tugs at his heartstrings enough (because im a sucker for the whole "whatve i done" bit)

Here we go!! Sorry these are taking so long but I’m still working on prompts!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972698/chapters/67878991#workskin

Too Much Chapter 2!

Watching Martin remove the evidence of panic by carefully, slowly, swiping a damp flannel over Jon’s skin, Tim continued holding the cold pack in place. The man between them made a sound, nondescript, shifting enough that his lips parted with a soft sigh as he settled.

“He’s made a right mess of these.” Martin lamented, gingerly lifting one hand to examine the heavy bandages, soiled with fresh blood and coming undone. Not altogether certain he wanted to know what was hidden away beneath, Tim stayed silent. “Would you mind fetching the first aid kit while I get rid of these?” He used the time away to take a deep breath, attempting to gather his rampant thoughts now that he was roped into fixing up their boss. There was always the possibility of giving him the kit and hightailing it out of that place and never setting foot near document storage again but before he realized what he’d done he’d accumulated other supplies he figured they might need and the relief in Martin’s eyes when he slipped back into the room was palpable. Jon’s hands were bare, blisters laid over blisters, broken and bleeding sluggishly from torn welts, one palm layered over with a nasty burn. Tim couldn’t help the noise torn from his throat in sympathy as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble under the weight of Jon’s wounds--and he wasn’t even the one to bear them! Jon had acquired more scars, more shadows in the gaunt hollows carved into his body by his bones since Prentiss. It was like laying eyes on a stranger, or opening his own and finally seeing what his negligent ignorance had truly cost.

Were these marks, this pain, not proof that Jon had every right to be scared? Paranoid? To suspect them? When it was his own “friends” raising hands violently against him?

“What. Martin, what happened?” He accepted the water, easing Jon’s arm over the edge of the bed and doing Tim the kindness of not reminding him that he’d never cared to know before.

“I couldn’t tell you what caused most of this, but you know. Daisy.” He swallowed, eyes narrowing as he dabbed away the worst of the scarlet slicking his skin and Tim saw red at the reminder. How dare she touch him. “Hush now, you’re alright.” Jon’s arm twitched, an aborted attempt to tug his hand away from Martin’s surely painful ministrations. “Just cleaning these up.”

“Hnn…” Saltwater-soaked lashes fluttered and damn his body’s reactions but Tim was at his side on the cot before he could blink and wholly unsure of what to do now that he was there, settling on running fingers through tangled curls, teasing out the knots as Martin worked. Clouded and slightly crossed, Jon’s glazed brown eyes peered up at him, through him, blinking slow, and Tim could feel the heat of his fever under his palms.

“Hey, bud.” Surprising himself with his own softness, Tim continued combing through his hair. “Close your eyes, boss. Marto’s fixing you right up.”

“Hur’s.” Badly slurred and tinged with vulnerability he wasn’t used to anymore, Jon’s voice sent a chill racing up Tim’s spine.

“I know.” He said anyway. “It won’t soon.” Trust and exhaustion won out, dragging bruised lids closed. “Martin.” Tim didn’t look up, tracing silver strands, so many, with the fingertips. “I would like to know. Please.”

Martin hummed, finished up the first hand, the worst hand, and cradled it over Jon’s stomach in a poor attempt at elevation before starting on the next one.

“I haven’t gotten much out of Jon--not because he won’t tell me!” He amended, remembering the promise Jon had made to be honest with them and clearly worried it would make Tim angry again if he thought he was keeping secrets. “He’s just. I mean.”

“I understand.” After leaving Elias’ office, whatever tenacity and fortitude Jon managed to scrape together after his ordeal with Daisy and Basira had faded quickly. Even Tim wasn’t able to ignore how bad off he was, more along the lines of being unable to explain than lacking any desire.

“I know she, she hit him. He’s bruised all over. Clocked him with her gun I assume, to leave him concussed--I still can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner.”

“It’s alright. We’ve all been. Preoccupied.” Some of them only with themselves.

“He was filthy, covered in dirt and I think bl’blood? Not his. Or, not all of it I think.” Martin rubbed his own neck thoughtfully, tracing a path that mirrored the red grin carving up Jon’s throat. “I think.” He looked into Tim’s eyes, haunted. “I, I overheard them saying he’d been made to d’dig a grave.”

“His grave.” There was no real proof, not yet. But it felt right. And Tim felt sick. “His hands.”

“The burn is bad, I don’t know how he got it.” A crease formed between Martin’s knit brows. “I. Tim.” He sighed. “You’ve been so furious with him.” He dragged both hands down his face. “Jon’s doing his best. Please, you have to believe that.”

“I think I’m beginning to.” He’d yet to stop his detangling. Jon liked when people he trusted played with his hair, especially when he wasn’t feeling well. Unbidden and effervescent, memories rose to the surface of Tim’s mind, each a different moment, beads of time strung on delicate silk strands. Sasha. Sasha, whose true face, true voice, had been written over and worn, her hands on Jon’s shoulders, working out the tension he carried there despite his complaints. Tim himself draping a cardigan over him where he slumped forward on his desk in Research when he succumbed to sleep. A rare moment at someone’s apartment, Jon three drinks in, flushed bright red and ridiculous, throwing himself into Tim’s lap and nuzzling his stomach until he got what he wanted; hands in his hair, on his back, honest to god cuddles. The embarrassment in the morning would paint him vivid with blush and he would accept the painkillers and tea with a shy grin.

That Jon was still in there.

Right?

For the first time in his career Tim chose to come into work early, heading immediately to doc storage to find Jon curled up against Martin, ruddy face squished against his chest and arm slung over his waist as though he’d recently been clinging there.

And if this had been another time, another universe, he would have teased them both, but the shadows under their eyes were beginning to match.

“We had a hard night.” Martin yawned hugely and Tim caught a quick glimpse of glassy brown at the movement but Jon passed out again in the next second. “Nightmares. You remember Crew?” Tim nodded. “Explains the vertigo. He’s going to want to work.” Martin’s palm found its way to the back of Jon’s head, tucked him under his chin as he exhaled, slow and measured.

“And you want him to rest.”

“He won’t.”

He didn’t.

But the dizziness kept him in his office for the most part and Tim helped keep an eye on him, checking up regularly, awkwardly. It was almost like old times. Except Jon was careful not to speak. Not now that he might force answers out of someone. Not now that he might be hurt because of it. Jon was smart. He tried to remember the things he learned because he only seemed to learn the hard way and right now he was trying to figure out Tim while Tim was trying to figure out himself, wary of the change towards him, confused when instead of lashing out, he asked if he needed anything.

“N’no, thank you, Tim.”

“It’s no trouble.” But it was physically painful to watch the gears turn as Jon balanced the possibility of pissing him off with how uncomfortable he was in this situation. “I’ll check back later, yeah?”

“Uh. Y’yeah. Yes. I mean, yes.” Nervously, he shifted between folders. “Of c’course.”

The day dragged and Jon’s fever and groggy exhaustion lingered, kept barely in check by Martin plying him with the painkillers and fever reducers because he refused A&E. It was frustrating, even if he was looking somewhat improved. When they caught him asleep it was often in the throes of a taxing nightmare. He was a shadow in his attempts to avoid them all, to focus on work, and now that Tim was paying attention he didn’t like how Basira was so cold, how Daisy made Jon flinch on purpose, how Melanie went out of her way to collide with him in the narrow hallways. How he was slight enough, unsteady enough that it sent him into the wall.

How he did nothing about it except murmur apologies and move past them as quick as he could.

Jon was back to pushing himself too hard, not bothering to ask for help because he’d never gotten any before so it wasn’t worth bothering with it now. He was alone. Deserted by everyone except for Martin--and oh the way his expression lit up at the sight of him. How soft his voice became when he thanked him for the tea. Tim knew Martin couldn’t see it yet, or wouldn’t let himself realize, but Jon was taken with him. Smitten. And already believed beyond a doubt that he had no worth. As prickly as Jon could be there was so much love in him just vying for a way out.

How could Tim have forgotten that?

Tim paced the length of the archives three times before heading back to check on Jon, alarmed when the office was empty. Worry, both familiar and unfamiliar, twined its way around his heart. He'd watched as the afternoon hours slipped by and Jon became worse and Tim didn’t bother asking anyone he came across; they didn’t care, he wasn’t supposed to care. But there weren’t many places Jon would go and Tim found him in the breakroom stabilizing himself on the sink. He didn’t react, didn’t turn, didn’t seem to know anyone was behind him, and Tim could make out shivery, deliberate breaths. Jon let go, lifting a hand dazedly to his forehead and staggering backwards such that Tim had to steady him.

“Whoa there, Boss.” Softly, quietly, Tim knew his head was still pounding more often than not no matter how adamant his denial. It didn’t stop Jon from flinching like he’d been struck or attempting to whirl around and only making it all that much worse as eyes filled with fear rolled back into his head and Tim had to catch him outright, lowering him to the floor and pillowing his shoulders in his lap. Unconsciously, he laid a palm over his overwarm forehead, dragging fingers back through damp strands rhythmically and wondering how he’d react to waking up with Tim staring down at him. They were dancing around each other, or at least Tim was. Jon couldn’t do much more than sit at his desk in what amounted to pyjamas and pretend to work in an attempt to wedge some normalcy back into his life.

“What happened?” At least now Martin’s inquiry wasn’t accusatory as he knelt beside them and checked over Jon himself. “How long?”

“Minute. Maybe two? He, uh. I surprised him and when he turned…” he trailed off, gesturing with a sigh.

“Ma’tin…” nothing more than a small breath of awareness in recognition of his voice, eyes still closed.

“You should be at your desk.” Lightly scolding.

“Nn...was col’...tea…” Tim met Martin’s eyes with worry at the barely coherent jumble of syllables caught on his sluggish tongue and he held up a hand, signaling him to wait.

“What’re we going to do with you, hm?”

“...Dunno…” He’d failed to understand the gentle ribbing for what it was, instead answering honestly, tearfully, and it tugged on Tim’s heartstrings. Martin chuckled kindly to ease the sting, moving forward to lift his weight off from Tim and standing still to let Jon wind a hand loosely into his jumper, hanging on for dear life with a gasp.

“You sound tired.”

“Mmyeah...tire’...” And that discordant admission alone was enough to cause alarm, doubly so when his body lost all rigidity in Martin’s hold.

“Martin--”

“Shh, Tim. He’s alright.” Protectiveness urged Tim to follow them back to document storage. Concern made him sit down before Martin asked. “Stay with him? I don’t want him to forget and wander off again. I’m gonna get that tea and something for the fever.” Tim supported his chin with a hand, elbow digging sharply into the top of his knee, and watched Jon sleep. With his eyes, he traced invisible constellations over the worm scars dotting his skin and connected their lines to the ink dark splash of lashes twitching as he dreamed. “What’re you thinking about?”

“How much running I’ve been doing.”

“Mm.”

“How much easier it was to ignore all this if I just hated Jon instead. Blamed him for it.” He lifted his fingers in a bitter and general indication of their unreasonably bad situation. “He’s made mistakes. We all have. And his are the only ones I’m not willing to forgive.” Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, stung. “Why is that?” His skin blushed with heat when his voice broke on a sob and before Martin could speak they were interrupted.

“Head’spounding…” He could barely keep his eyes open.

“Ah, I’m sorry, love, I know, here,” he was like a rag doll when Martin lifted him. “This’ll help.” Tim watched the ease with which Martin navigated Jon. All sweet and kind, steadying his hands when they proved too shaky to hold the cup, testing his temperature with the inside of his wrist when Jon was distracted with swallowing down the medicine.

“Shouldn’t do this.” Whispered, lost and undone, as Martin tucked him in, gripping back tightly when Jon grew dizzy with the change. “M’sorry.”

“You say that too often, Boss.”

“Hush, both of you.” To Jon, “we can all talk later, when you’re feeling better. It’s okay to need help. It’s okay to rest.” And while he didn’t look convinced, he was helpless against the drag of that heavy, insistent tide of exhaustion.

“Never liked to owe people, our Jon.” Martin sighed, frustrated.

“It’s not a transaction. I wish he’d trust that I only want to help.” Tim snickered ruefully as Martin tucked stray salt and pepper strands behind Jon’s ears.

“He’s always been suspicious of decency.”

“That’s not right.” There was a lot wrong with it, and far too much to solve at this moment.

“You look knackered, Martin. Go home.” He needed caring for after keeping them all together like he’d done. “I’ve got it from here.”

“I don’t want to ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, Marto.”

“Tim--”

“I need to. I. I need to do this.”

Tim was worried that the only reason Martin left him here alone was because he was too tired to spend another night here keeping an eye on the both of them. He only had himself to blame when it came to the loss of trust.

It was no secret his dislike of Jon.

He hadn’t forgotten his treatment of him just the other day. Yanking him up off the ground and shouting at him, blaming him for his confusion and unsteadiness, for worrying Martin while he’d been the one ill and frightened and unmoored on the dusty floor. A mournful cry jolted him out of his musings, and the nightmare didn’t sound kind, wrenching Jon awake and leaving him panting, narrow chest heaving, eyes wide and unfocused in the dim.

“Hey.” Soft and quiet, it didn’t stop Jon from jumping in surprise, nearly swooning when he jerked his head in the direction of his voice. “Back with me?”

“Tim.” Real surprise, he blinked hard, trying to clear his bleary vision. “Yeah. S’sorry.” Jon offered him a sheepish quirk of his lips.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize, Jon.” He swallowed thickly and Tim could hear the click in his throat, somewhere behind the bandage hiding that yawning red grin from sight.

“Wh’what?”

“I’ve treated you unfairly.”

“No, no, Tim. You. You had every right! I was out of line and suspected the worst with no proof and didn’t trust yo--” Jon was trying to get up, ignoring how it had to hurt, and when Tim made to stop him, he flinched in real fear and backed himself into the corner. “S’sorry. I. It’s, it isn’t you, I swear.” Guilt wrapped around Tim’s heart like a thorny vine at his stammering apologies, at the way Jon laughed at himself and scrubbed his face with the back of a bandaged hand, staring up at the ceiling as new tears pooled in his eyes. “A lot’s h’happened.” When he closed them, the damp rolled down his cheeks into the grey at his temple. “I,I,I know you don’t w’want to hear it. But I, I don’t have anything else left t’to offer and I’m so s’sorry.” Jon tucked up his knees and buried his tear-stained face in the blankets he pulled around himself. Scared and small and awaiting derision. Tim edged closer.

"Jon.” He reached out to touch and thought better of it. “I think. I think I'm ready to hear it now." Consumed by constant fear and torment, run ragged for months and months, when Jon risked glancing up at him Tim could finally look past his anger and see him. Flushed with fever, thin and drawn, bruised and beaten and burned.

But still Jon.

Still Jon, terrified of the kind of help he'd been taught by experience not to ask for. Not to accept. Not to trust. Not to need.

“No, n’no, Tim. It’s.” He sniffed, tried to offer Tim a watery smile. “M’not feeling w’well, heh. You know how I, how I am.”

“I know you don’t take care of yourself.” He continued before Jon could interrupt. “I know I’ve left you to deal with this alone.” Indeed, at the very first sign of trouble, Tim abandoned him to his own devices. “I understand why it’s been difficult to trust me.”

“Not just you.” Tim had to strain to hear him, voice tiny, wavering with misery. “It’s so hard to trust, I have to, to think about it, choose it, don’t I. Talk myself out of how a’afraid I am all the t’time. I can’t even trust myself, my words. I. They. It’s easier to not speak at all, if it can be helped. And I try. But. Tim.” Fraught, brown irises nearly swallowed by black pupil bored into him, begged him to listen, to see. “I’m a monster.”

“Jon--” He tugged at messy curls, ignoring the pain it had to cause, the spots of blood, and if Jon would let him, he would need to fix the wrappings after this. He’d folded into himself even tighter, rocking himself just slightly in an attempt at comfort.

“If everyone is saying it, it must be true. But I’m trying. I promise, Tim, I promise. I was hoping it counted for something, anything. I can’t. I.” He broke off, attempting to pull himself together, face contorted and when he noticed Tim’s stricken expression, stumbled on with half-thought out reassurances. “I, I won’t stop! T’trying, that is. I, I, I want to, to be better. I don’t want to hurt anyone. It’s not about counting, it’s about doing the right thing. Or something close to--it never seems to work out, I’m not. I keep doing the wrong things so I know--but I p’promise--and besides, D’Daisy’s watching, if you’re worried, heh.” He laughed, a little broken thing, tears glittering in his eyes. “She’ll put me d’down. If that makes you feel any better.”

And god how could he think Tim wanted that? Jon, living with the knowledge that any mistakes he made could lead to--

Hanging over his head. Just awaiting collapse.

“That’s. Jon, I don’t want her to do that.”

“Oh. Did.” Tim realized the pause was an attempt at managing his powers of compulsion. “Did you want to? Instead I mean?” Tim recoiled in horror at the genuine curiosity, the dull acceptance that they all might be waiting for their chance. Numbness flooded his fingers. And even though Tim knew Jon was trying to use the right words, the ones that would make him feel better, he was furious.

“How could you think that?!” Jon held up his raggedly bandaged hands, the blisters from digging his own grave and who knows what else hidden from view.

“I, I’m sorry, I. You’re right, that was stupid of me. I’m sorry, Tim, I’m sorry, I--” Tim cut him off by sweeping him into an embrace, pressing his face into his shoulder. He was little more than bones rattling around in a scarred and ruined skin, shaking in his arms, his own held away, stiff. Dear lord, what had he done? “T’Tim? I, I’m sorry I’ve upset you.”

“Stop it, Jon.” And he collapsed, spent from his outpouring, breath loud in Tim’s ear. “Just stop.” Tentative, Jon wrapped him up in return. “I’m going to do better.”

“You don’t--”

“I do. And I am.” Damp soaked into his sleeve despite the silence with which Jon sobbed, little more than uneven, ardent gasping as they clung to each other.

“B’but.” He pressed closer, starved for it. “I.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been so afraid.” Murmured against his shirt, Tim could feel the shapes of his words, the trembling of his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you. You mean. If, if you--I couldn’t stand it. If it wasn’t real.” Desperately, he whispered, thick with tears. “Don’t think I’d survive losing you again.” Too much loss. Too much all around and not one time had Tim thought about who he still had.

“I’m going to help you.” Tim realized then he’d been crying as well. “Like I should have from the start of this mess.” Gently, he pulled him away, took his damaged hands. “Let me get these fixed up. If Martin sees them, he’ll have both our heads on pikes.” For a moment, Tim was worried it was too soon, that Jon would need to hide this vulnerability from him, and he held his breath, until he nodded, just once.

It would take time, but they’d made a start.

[asterdeer]

flower ask meme: arum-lily, aster, baneberries, basket of gold, black-eyed susan, blazing stars, borage, bulgeherb, camelia, candytuffs, carnation, cock's comb, common boneset, daisy, false goat's beard, freesia, garden cosmos, gladiolus, rosemallows, transvaal daisy, and tropical white morning glory

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger? gave a man my lunch and cash when he came up to my window while i was idling at a red light? stayed five minutes past closing time to tell someone how to get somewhere even tho im terrible at directions

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes? “I believe that if a woman poet survives, if she sets out on that distance and arrives at the other end, then she has an obligation to tell as much as she knows of the ghosts within her, for they make up, in essence, her story as well.”contrariwise“I am not well-adjusted. More often than not, I am barely keeping it together. I’m constantly texting, and there’s no one on the other end. I’m just a grown man who can’t even look his own friends in the eye for too long because I’m afraid that they’ll see that I’m broken. So, you get credit for that. One time, when I was in 7th grade, I told everybody at school I had appendicitis. I wanted somebody to worry about me, but when Beth Brennan asked to see the scar I didn’t wanna get found out. So, I took mom’s scissors, and I made one. It hurt like hell. But it was worth it because I got 17 cards, and I still keep them in a box underneath my bed 22 years later because it proves that someone at some point cared about me. Want to see the scar?”

Baneberries: Favorite song? atm its either “high hopes” by panic!, “quarter past midnight” by bastille, or “when the night is over” by lord huron

Basket of Gold: Describe your familyim best friends with my mom, my brother terrifies me bc i love him so much, my granddad was my best teacher of selflessness and sacrifice, my cousin who was my best friend fell apart at exactly the same time i did and we never really got back together, i met my twin when i was like fourteen and needed them most, i have a grandmother who ended up teaching me more of what not to do than anything else, and i did in fact have a father, all evidence to the contrary

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?a giraffe. no doubt

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why? 101 things ! spiders because one crawled into my bed when i was 12 at five in the morning and my cat woke me up because it was just there at my feet, also never having someone fall in love w me, also watching everyone leave me when they figure out im worthless ! mostly spiders

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood. there was a very shallow sort of…. gorge? ravine? it was like a steep drop off in the land down to a v rocky stream that cut behind our house in our old neighborhood. they didnt let us play there often bc my brother’s then-best friend slipped and cut his foot bad but i loved it back there + if i had been reading warriors at that point it would have been my clan camp fs

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  slashing the tires of as many animal abusers as i could find. then go rent a boat and take my family/friends out on the water. pass out some macarons maybe? gravestone shaped macarons? make everyone read some of four quartets out loud. also cuddle my cat a whole WHOLE whole lot 

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go? ive wanted to visit ireland for literally as long as i can remember

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved? when i havent eaten for a good while

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  mucha-esque loki tee shirt and my mom’s fluffy cloud pajama pants

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?lydian bc it reminds me of when i was 10 and my cousin and i were writing our stories on the same computer and that was the font we used

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?everybodys workin for the weekend. captain marvel comes out next week too

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment? 1) winning the novel contest 2) making people laugh during my thesis defense 3) not offing myself during 2014 or 2017

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?embarrassing myself! 

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month? 1) job 2) sushi 3) staying till almost midnight at a friend’s house talking whcih was the most ive actually been touched by a person besides my mom in weeks

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?exhausting but i got a lot of reading done

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two? submit a novel for publication. try to get into an editing program. grow potatoes and cucumbers, revive/expand my catnip and rosemary. donate money and buy art and take trips and make better food

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory? literally the only memory that doesnt feel like a rebuke or a warning rn is the day i met you in person

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing? thats either the high waisted bell bottom jeans my aunt gave me a while back or the black and green striped top that ive worn holes into ive had it so long

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  i literally dont have one, its a hideous + boring mishmash of four different aesthetics frankensteined together that doesnt make good art ever 

[patroncrow]

1-69 >:3

i had to turn on my laptop just to copy/paste this all. im putting it under a cut to spare any innocent followers

also you cheeky fuck lol

1. What’s your darkest kink?

completely being dominated. few get the chance or the honor tho

2. How many people have you had sex with?

one. we were together for a long while so i never got the chance.

i might be changing that before long

3. What the most times you’ve ever orgasmed in one night?

i honestly dont know but this did remind me of an embarrassing story lol

4. What’s your favorite sex position?

it really depends on my mood :3

5. Describe the best sex you’ve ever had.

i was drunk, in a mood all day, and accidentally gave a hickey above the collar. his boss gave him shit for it but he couldn’t get me back cause he cant give them (which is a shame)

6. Have you ever had a one night stand?

never had the chance

7. Describe your most desired fantasy.

see #1

8. Describe your darkest fantasy.

see #7

9. What’s your sexiest feature?

ive been told i have a really nice ass

10. Have you ever been to a strip club?

most the decent ones around here you have to be 21, i hear. they dont really seem like my scene tho

11. Where’s the best place to have sex?

where the mood strikes. just lock the doors

12. Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?

the living room. in my defense, there were at least 2 other ppl in the house, and it had a walk-in policy. there was a decent risk of someone showing up

but this did lead to an amusing conversation that went something like “what if your dad walks in?” “then ill sit up and say ‘dad im busy, get out!’”

13. Where would you like to have sex, but haven’t yet?

location isnt a big thing for me

14. If you could have sex with one celebrity, who would it be?

ive never really had celeb crushes. i identified as ace until not long ago (im open to giving chances, but im picky about who ill show interest in first)

15. What sounds do you make during sex?

oh, golly. depends how much fun im having

but its not that breathy-ass shit in porn

16. Are you loud during sex?

see #15

17. Describe the outfit you feel sexiest in.

do partial ones count? i like just not having a shirt. cargo pants, skinny jeans, whatever. just without a top.

18. What’s your favorite punishment?

never been punished. ex was a puss lol

19. What’s your favorite position for spanking?

never really had positions for it. i like being grabbed more

20. Do you like to have/leave marks?

yes

21. What’s your favorite thing to clamp nipples with?

never done that

22. How long have you denied/or been denied an orgasm?

0 seconds

23. Have you ever had sex in a “dungeon”?

nope

24. Are you into bondage?

mmmyeah

25. What is your favorite thing to do for aftercare?

never really been in the scene enough to know much about that

26. What’s your favorite thing to tie up or be tied up with?

ive only used cuffs & ties. i liked the latter better

27. Are you a Dom or a Sub? Would you ever consider being a switch?

im a sub but if im in a really big mood i can switch

its a strong expression of desire not to be taken for granted

28. Do you prefer gags or blindfolds?

never used either but blindfolds might be cool

29. Have you ever had a threesome?

no despite a long ass time with someone who wanted nothing more and wouldnt shut up until i put my foot down that i wasnt comfortable with that unless i had gotten close to the other person one-on-one first

30. How often do you masturbate?

maybe like once a month?? but tat was when sex was readily available. id much prefer the real thing

31. What’s your favorite thing to masturbate to?

just whatever does it that time

32. What’s your favorite kind of porn?

i dont rlly watch enough to have a fave

33. What’s your favorite porn website?

dont have one

34. Who’s your favorite porn star?

same as above

35. Would you ever consider doing porn?

it really depends on specific context

36. At what age did you start masturbating?

lmao 18

37. Have you ever been caught masturbating?

nope 

38. Have you ever masturbated to a ridiculous video or story then thought “what the fuck did I just do?“

…

39. Phone sex or Camming?

never done either but im not big on taking care of myself for someone else

40. Do you believe in aphrodisiacs?

i havent read enough on them. ig if theres food that can help you be less depressed, there could be food that helps ur libido

41. What’s you biggest turn on?

biting around/on my hips/waist

42. What’s your strangest turn on?

probably the same thing, considering im not into oral and otherwise having a head down there bothers me

43. What’s your favorite sex toy?

i have none

44. Do you prefer your sexual partner to be older than you, or younger?

idc if theyre a little older/younger, as long as theyre close to my age

45. Have you ever broken up with someone because the sex was bad?

no but id totally tell an ex that to piss em off cause im a petty fuck

46. Have you ever posted nudes on tumblr?

nope. ive thought about doing the topless tuesday but ehh

47. What’s your favorite sex blog? (I’m sure it’s his-precious-kitten…but on the odd chance that it’s not…)

not really into those things

48. What’s your favorite pet name?

not necessarily a sex thing, but anything that feels strong like “darling,” “my love”

49. Do you prefer vaginal sex or anal?

never tried full-on anal but what i did try hurt too much to feel good

50. Do you prefer pussies all natural, bald, triangle, landing strip…?

whatever shes into and feels confident with mayn

51. What song would you most like to have sex to?

i like those with the feeling i get (not traditional ones) but this reminded me one time we were getting busy, youtube playlist going, next song came on and it was bring me to life and when i looked up, it wasnt like a lyric video or the official one but fucking luigi and i almost died then and there

52. Have you ever had shower sex?

yes. it was difficult  but fun

53. At what time of day are you the horniest?

i dont have a time of day but i accidentally went off my birth control for a bit and in the proceeding week i could barely function. ive been telling myself that was the reason.

54. Girls: What is your bra size?

34b, perfect hand size. sometimes they just make good rests to just hold

55. Girls: Describe your favorite pair of panties.

theyre a teal with a darker blue lace. the back kinda has a sheer part that reminds me of stain glass windows??

56. Girls: Do you ever go out not wearing panties?

nah not into that thing. you could tell me something is meant to be worn without and id be like “nah fuck that”

57. Girls: Can you get off from clit stimulation alone?

ig?? but whats the fun in that??

58. Girls: Can you get off from penetration alone?

who would do that

59. Girls: Do you use birth control or condoms?

i prefer both because i would not be able to handle nine months sober followed by hours of excruciating pain. or getting stds.

60. Girls: What’s the strangest thing that’s ever been inside your pussy?

just a marker. im not lookin to fuck myself up

but my ex is a major whovian with several sonic screwdrivers and at one point he made a joke to which i responded “if you wanted to use that on me you shouldve said something” which made everyone freak out lol

61. Girls: Do you spit or swallow?

never sucked. always had a rise of anxiety prior

62. Subs: Would you rather have a Master, a Dom, or a Daddy Dom?

idk if theres that much a difference between the first two but if i so much as hear an utterance of “daddy” i instantly become dry as the sahara

63. Littles: Describe your favorite stuffie.

n/a

64. Boys: What is your penis size?

n/a

65. Boys: Are you circumcised?

n/a

66. Boys: Do you prefer having sex without a condom?

n/a

67. Boys: Do you prefer oral or vaginal sex?

n/a

68. Doms: Do you believe in aftercare?

n/a

69. Doms: Would you rather own a slave, a sub, or a little?

n/a

lord this took forever i hope ur happy lol