#she loves rosie it is what it is

[nouverx]

*proceeds to drink the whole bottle*

Yeah Alastor you're gonna be loved and appreciated wether you want it or not :)

[margaretwexley]

she lists off all the people who are now within the walls of the wexley as though they're going through introductions on the first day of school. more names should be familiar— more floors should be a lived reality. certainly she'd thought of it, but she'd never actually done it.

"i know mr. penrose." at least that was only the tenth floor, and there were some familiar faces on the ninth. people who could be addressed formally as they road the elevator down, though she never had gotten a grasp on small talk. "though—" she couldn't remember the last time she'd actually seen a pet of any kind around. they weren't to be found anywhere in the penthouse. a dog made her shoulders tense with unknown. "well, maybe just the diner."

"It totally is an adventure. I mean, when's the last time you stepped foot on one of the lower floors. Oh, maybe I could even introduce you to Hawthorn Penrose. You know the famous author, that would be exciting, right?"

Starting down the stairs at her sister's side, Ember practically skipped down them with an ease that only grew the longer they went without the elevators. "Plus there's Blue and his dog, you'd love Doom. Sweetest puppy. Blue is all grumpy and shit, but he's cool. You know Charlie and Rosie already, since they've been here forever... but... there's like lots of people you can meet. I bet you'd like Ashton if you met him, even if he's very like practical and sort of dead pan. Like that Sergeant guy Daddy was friends with."

Rambling on and on about their neighbors, it was clear that Ember was thriving in the atmosphere, almost soaking in the small community she'd found right under their noses. "You're gunna have so much fun, I promise."

[cringefailvox]

guy notorious for violently removing people from his personal space and who blew sir pentious halfway across the city for tearing a tiny scrap from his already tattered coat lets rosie sweep him off his feet and spin him around like a doll. i'm so in love with their dynamic

[mountainshroom]

I keep rewatching episode 7 just for them like 😭🫶 their friendship is everything to me

[myokk]

fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?…um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Rosie is like that wine aunt who judges you relationship but like, actually does a good job and gives dman good advice-

Rosie: You two need to go on a date

Vaggie: well- I mean yeah but- just, the hotel is busy-

Rosie: You both are busy 24/7 with that little pojext of hers. When was the last time you went on a date??

Vaggie: i...last month?

Rosie: You need to go on a date with her.

Vaggie: well- we don't need dates we're fine- and busy!

Rosie: But it'd still be nice to have the quality time with her, right?

Vaggie:....yeah....

Rosie: Then you need to either plan a date or hint that you want her to plan a date

Vaggie:.....yeah okay...

Rosie: Also, take your time....but tell her about the missing wings and halo

Vaggie: wait wha-

Rosie: You let it slip in the middle of your rant, and it's not that big of a suprise. I'm not sure how nobody else has figured it out yet

Vaggie: wondering how tf she didn't remember any of her rants (she was to wound up to really pay attention to what she was saying)

Meanwhile

Carmilla perks up:....I feel like someone is talking......shakes head doesn't matter.

Part 5 | Part 6(here!) | Part 7

[a-hazbin-reader]

But Daddy I love her!! 🥺

[magsev]

Now that we've met a larger cast of characters... does Rosie have any hobbies? (Outside of cultivating her impeccable timing for interrupting important conversations, of course)

What a sweet question! Aside from her clearly rehearsed exposition interruptions, Rosie would deny she has any 'worthwhile' hobbies. However, she does have a few!

Cooking is her main one! Despite her ex-husband's claims that she couldn't cook one good meal, Rosie loves every step of the process! Her favourite meals to make are stir fries.

Her love language would be gifting food- if she had anyone to give it to.

Rosie also enjoys knitting and sudoku/crossword! She knits all the cardigans she wears to work.

[rosyprayer]

♡ ˚ ⊹ *｡‧˚ʚ 🧸 ɞ˚‧｡* ⊹ ˚ ♡

Selah is ready for colder weather ! 🤍

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 6

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, past nonconsensual body modification, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 3k

ao3 link

Masterlist

She hated that she still had nightmares. She could tamp down every other emotion she’d ever had, but in the throes of unconsciousness there was nothing to be done. 

She never even had nightmares about anything interesting, nothing particularly unique or horrifying. 

It was usually just days. Random days from her past that she hardly remembered, completely and entirely unimportant. 

She wished there were elaborate, horrific nightmares. At least then she’d have an excuse for why she bolted awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. 

This time, when she woke, she was pinned under Iron Bull’s arm. 

Of all the partners she’d ever had, he was by far the most irritating to sneak away from. 

He always clung to her in his sleep, like he was a child and she was his favorite toy. He had massive arms and even if he hadn’t been holding onto her for dear life, it would have been hard to sneak off. As it stood, it was near impossible to get out of his grip. 

She’d developed a system, over the past months, as he insisted she fall asleep in his bed more and more often. She’d wiggle and wiggle as much as she could, slowly slipping a pillow into his grip alongside her. And then she’d slide out against the pillow, leaving it in his grasp.

It took forever, and by the time she had managed it most of the panic from her nightmare had settled into her usual numbness, but she figured as long as she was out she might as well get some air. 

And then there was the matter of leaving his room. 

Bull’s door was incessantly squeaky. He said he’d chosen this room for that reason specifically, so no one could sneak up on him. It made her feel like she was in prison. 

So, the first time she’d been set on escaping, she’d done the only thing she could think to do. She climbed out the window. 

It was a room on such a high level that she would never risk climbing down, she wasn’t nearly graceful enough for that. 

But the roof was fairly flat and he was on the top floor, so sometimes she scrambled up there, kicking her feet against the wall to help her with the pull up she needed to do that her arms couldn’t quite manage on their own, when she couldn’t stomach being in his room all night. 

Tonight was one of those nights. She jumped up, grabbing the ledge and kicking off the wall until she managed to heave herself onto the roof. 

And as she crawled the last bit of the way up, looking for some peace, she found something else. She found Cole. 

She wasn’t even surprised to see Cole sitting up there, waiting for her. 

“You couldn’t have helped me up?” she asked with a huff, embarrassed that she was a little out of breath from her climb.

“It’s good for you. If you want to be an archer you need strong arms.”

“Be careful with that,” she warned him playfully. “If I get too strong, maybe I’ll stop missing.”

He shook his head. “I can move faster than you can think to shoot.”

“Just have to stop thinking then,” she said, settling down beside him as they talked. No matter how irritating he was, this was better than being down there with Bull. 

The view from the roof was beautiful. They could see mountains sprawling around them, miles and miles of rock. She knew below them lay a river but it was out of sight, blocked by the walls that kept them safe. 

More importantly than that, they could see the stars. 

She laid back as Cole stared down at her, catching his curious face out of the corner of her eye. 

“What?” she asked. “You don’t like the stars?”

“I don’t think about them. You don’t like the stars,” he informed her, as if she didn’t already know. 

“I don’t, but they’re something to look at. Better than nothing.”

He did not move to join her, content to just stare down at her as she looked up. 

She didn’t chastise him for it. She’d complained enough about his staring and he could see in her mind, he knew it was off putting. If he was doing it still, he had decided to do it regardless of what she thought.

“I don’t understand why it’s bad to look at you,” he said.

“It’s not bad to look, it’s just bad to stare.”

“Whenever I look, people think I’m staring. I don’t know how to stop.”

“It’s those big owl eyes you’ve got,” she said, widening her own eyes for purely demonstrational purposes. “It makes you scary.”

“I don’t want to be scary.”

She shrugged. “Should’ve reconsidered being a spirit then. What’re you doing out here anyways? Don’t you have important spirit duties to attend to? Have you drugged all the people you needed to drug for the night?”

He ignored her teasing, as he often did. She supposed it lost some of its bite when you could see right into someone’s head and pluck out the idea that they didn’t really mean it. “You dream loud,” he said. “I don’t like watching you hurt but you need to sleep.”

“How long have you been up here?”

“Since it started. Just in case.”

“How considerate,” she said, half meaning it. 

“Do you remember what Vivienne said?” he blurted out. “About me?”

She nodded. “I think she’s wrong about you, just for the record. Not that it matters.”

He pushed past everything she’d said, instead announcing, “I did that.”

“What, hurt mages? That’s fine, you know me, that’s not something I care about. I’m sure you meant well. I don’t think you know how not to mean well.”

“No, put people down. Like she wanted to do to me.”

Rosemary sat up with a jolt. “What?”

“I didn’t know the hurt could stop. I thought I was helping. And then I knew better but I killed people who hurt others. Now I know you and I think maybe I was wrong again.”

“You weren’t,” she insisted. “Nothing wrong with hurting people who hurt people. I mean, not me of course, but others.”

“But you hurt people and you’re a person,” he insisted. “Sometimes you help but mostly you just are. I don’t know if it’s your fault and I think I don’t care. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“I think I’m confusing you,” she said quietly. “I think once you get away from me for a while, you’ll be right back to your weird little spirit ways.”

“I don’t want to go back,” he insisted. “I remember things now, I care instead of just do. Sometimes I hurt. I thought only they could do that but I feel it in me and I don’t want to stop feeling it because then I can’t understand it right anymore.”

She wanted to understand him, she realized. She was trying to puzzle the words together, to figure out what emotion he could possibly be feeling. 

Maybe they were both becoming used to caring. 

He nodded, whether to himself or at her thought, she wasn’t sure. And then he asked, “Can you say something honest?”

She froze up. “No,” she said, and she hated the bit of regret that sat inside her as she said it. “I won’t.”

He nodded and dropped the topic, looking off at the mountain range. 

She hated how the way he didn’t push calmed her and tried to fight the way she relaxed into his company so easily after. 

“You want to kiss me,” he said, still looking out at the mountains as he spoke. “It’s very distracting.”

She reeled back. “No I don’t.”

She considered his words. Did she? He wasn’t one to lie, especially about things he saw in people’s heads, but surely this wasn’t true. She would know if she wanted to kiss someone. 

She’d imagined it, of course. But she’d imagined kissing a lot of people. She’d never actually wanted to do it before. 

She imagined it for practical reasons. She imagined how people would want to be kissed, what they wanted from her. It was all to prepare herself, not out of any desire. 

But then, kissing Cole wouldn’t get her anything. He couldn’t be tricked like that. She’d known that as long as she’d known him. So why did she imagine kissing him? 

And then she thought about it even more, turning the thought over in her mind. 

With other people, it was about what they wanted. She’d never thought that far with Cole, never imagined what kind of performance he’d enjoy. 

All she’d considered had been how it might feel, how awkward and stumbling he would be, how his lips would probably be chapped, how he wouldn’t know where to put his hands, how even without words he’d be able to understand her the whole way through. 

Oh god, maybe she did want to kiss Cole. She’d never actually wanted to kiss anyone before. 

It was out of some sick curiosity about the spirit, she was sure, but want was want.

“Do I?” she asked, desperately attempting to puzzle it out.

“You do.” He stated it so matter of factly and she believed him. 

“Sorry I’ve been distracting you.”

“It’s fine. No one’s ever wanted to kiss me before. I keep wondering what it’s like.”

It certainly wasn’t an expression of real romantic interest, but then again, neither was her desire. Maybe their wants were rooted in the same thing, in a mutual vague curiosity. There was nothing wrong with that. 

“We could try,” she said, trying desperately to sound casual. 

He nodded and moved towards her, not one to sit and discuss when a decision had been made. 

His lips were softer than she thought they’d be. She’d been convinced they’d be chapped. 

And he was warmer than he had been, she realized, remembering how inhumanly cool his skin had felt when they’d first met. It was a warm night, maybe he was like a lizard, changing his body temperature with the days.

And as they kissed, he stayed absolutely still. 

It was like kissing a statue, he was completely frozen against her. 

She pulled back, taking him in, the way he seemed completely frozen. “You alright?” she asked, poking his cheek and half expecting him to topple over as she did. 

That seemed to shake him out of it. “I didn’t do good.” 

She laughed. “You did fine, relax.”

“I want to try again,” he insisted. “I thought something in me would take over like in Varric’s books but it didn’t. I have to do things on purpose or I don’t do anything.”

“You’ve read Varric’s books?”

He shook his head. “He thinks loud when he writes.” And then, a little softer, he added, “He thinks we should kiss.”

“Who, Varric?”

Cole nodded and they were still so close that the brim of his had tapped her on the head as he did. “Yes. He thought it before you did.” 

She considered taking the hat off before they kissed again but it felt wrong, like taking one of his limbs.

“So we are kissing again?” Cole asked, perking up.

“If you’d like to.”

He leaned a little closer, as if about to kiss her, before pulling back again and asking. “Should I close my eyes?” 

She giggled at that, at the thought that he’d been staring at her with those big eyes, even while they kissed. There really was no escaping them. 

“Yeah,” she admitted, as funny as she found the idea. “You probably should.”

This time, when their lips pressed together, he melted into the kiss, leaning into her as his lips opened slightly to welcome her own. 

He kissed her back in what she was sure was an imitation of all her half-forgotten memories of kissing. He stumbled his way through it, like he had trouble translating the memories to his own body. He got bolder the longer it went on, exploring a little as she kissed him, soft and slow. 

And then he stiffened and pulled back, eyes wide. 

“You’re with the Iron Bull,” he said, like he’d somehow forgotten. “You hate it but he doesn’t and he doesn’t know. You’ve made me hurt him too.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t make you do anything. Besides, I don’t think he’d even care much. He doesn’t seem one for committed long-term relationships.”

“I don’t like secrets. I need to tell him.”

“If you tell him, I will never forgive you,” she said, and she meant every word of it. 

He stared at her, and for the first time in a long time, she squirmed under his gaze. 

Finally, he asked, “Are we friends?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m not sure I’d be able to tell.”

He nodded. “You wouldn’t. And you told me something honest. I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching over and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I liked kissing you,” he said

“That’s good. Maybe you should try kissing someone you won’t feel horribly guilty about kissing next time,” she suggested. 

He shook his head. “I don’t think I want to if it’s not you.”

She tried not to think about that, about what that could mean. 

Because to be honest, it felt dangerously close to her typical relationships with men, leveraging the affection she’d tricked them into to keep her safe. She’d thought Cole was different, that he was the one person she could not pull into that trap. But if he wanted to kiss her…

“Not like that,” he said, something almost akin to panic washing over his face. “Never like that. I’d never let it be like that.”

And she knew that. She’d figured it out, it wasn’t an instinct borne of pure emotion. She wouldn’t trust it if it was. 

Cole, factually, wasn’t like that. For better or for worse. 

And she’d kissed him anyway. 

“I need to go back in,” she said, knowing Cole was reading her disappointment off her and hating him for it. “Bull’s going to wake up soon.”

He nodded. “He sleeps light, the Qun makes sure of it. Sneaking in the night, the sound of a floorboard, sword unsheathing. Another attack, always another attack. No sleep over enemy lines.”

“Yeah, that.” She looked down at the balcony forlornly. No matter how gently she tried to let herself down, she always hurt her ankle. 

“Could you lend me a hand?” she asked as she turned back to Cole, but instead found an empty roof behind her, the spirit gone once more. 

She rolled her eyes and dropped down, holding on to the ledge for several seconds before working up the nerve to drop that last little bit. 

Her knees buckled as she fell, a familiar soreness blooming in her ankle. 

She tucked herself in bed beside Bull and he pulled her towards him again, none the wiser to her little escapade. 

She waited, unable to sleep, until he woke behind her. 

She pretended to be asleep, as she always did in the mornings, waiting for him to wake her. 

He didn’t for a while, instead just staring down at her, observing quietly. 

She was good at pretending to be asleep, had gotten a lot of practice in it over the years. There was nothing that displayed vulnerability better to people, nothing that fostered protectiveness more than the peaceful face of a sleeping girl. 

Eventually, Bull did wake her, poking her gently in the side. 

“Can’t sleep all day,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. 

She pretended to ease herself awake, arching into him with a little stretch. “I really wish I could. I can’t believe I have to head out a little past sunrise to go close some stupid rifts." She had no idea what time it actually was but took a best guess, trying to get herself out of there as quickly as she could. 

Bull froze next to her and she cheered internally. He had an absurdly good sense of time and she assumed she was right on the mark. “You should have told me. You’re running late.”

She jolted out of bed. “Am I? Oh my god.”

She gave Bull a kiss and got ready in a flurry, bolting down the stairs with a lightness in her step. 

She almost ran square into Cole as she did, him appearing right in front of her.

“Are we leaving?” he asked, and she nodded excitedly. 

“We are, go find someone to take with us and let’s get out of here. Preferably someone who doesn’t like Bull.”

He nodded and then faded out of existence once more. 

She ran off to grab Dorian, figuring he was a safe bet. Dorian wouldn’t tell Bull because he hates Qunari. He pretended sometimes that he didn’t but it was flimsy at best. She could see the disgust painted across his face when they spoke.

She wasn’t sure who Cole would bring, her bets being on Varric or Solas. Honestly, anyone would be fine, so long as they weren’t someone who would go tattling to Bull if her and Cole were a little closer than they should be on this mission. 

Inexplicably, Cole returned with a furious Vivienne in tow. “I have someone,” he announced. “Can we leave?”

She buried her head in her hands. “Why would you do this?”

“Inquisitor,” Vivienne said, a thinly veiled anger present under the fake niceness dripping from her voice. “Why is your spirit stealing me away from my work saying you need me for something?”

Dorian laughed a good natured laugh. “I think the Inquisitor expected him to return with a companion less virulently opposed to him.”

Her smile failed to hide a grimace. “The spirit has taken a liking to me then. Oh, joy.”

Vivienne wasn’t technically a bad choice, she supposed. She wouldn’t say anything to Bull because she knew well enough to keep secrets to herself unless pushed, and Rosemary would never push her. She might tell the chantry that she was befriending a demon but Rosemary suspected she’d already told them that and nothing had happened so far. 

It would be a long trip, but it would be a long trip without Bull. “Alright,” she said. “I guess you’re coming with us. And who knows, Madame de Fer, maybe you’ll take a liking to him. He has a way of surprising people.”

[v3rm1nn]

im not a HH fan but i doodled rosie on whiteboard yesterday cuz shes a cutie

[wexhappyxfew]

hey! in one of your recent answers to an ask, you said that judy often told her self off for having a crush as a teenager - does she feel any of that hesitation or kind of self-deprivation with rosie?

HEY!!!!!

i would definitely say yes to that — i mentioned something in that previous ask about how judy’s past in a major player in her current present life (and not necessarily in all bad ways) but i would say this is one such example where is DOES affect her in not entirely the best light.

growing up on a farm, with a lack of an education, a whole lot of siblings, stressed out parents and a stress bubble around the house, when things like that DID happen, ie getting a crush and not feeling like she could talk about it with someone. she’d think about it and go over it in her head and then try to detach herself from that idea. there’s that hint of self-deprivation there already. this idea that there’s other, better options and that her having a crush is something she’ll eventually get over. so having that experience in her youth DEFINITELY makes her hesitant with rosie in many ways.

there was a prompt i did a few weeks back where judy is promoted to lieutenant (by rosie’s doing) and she lets it slip a bit that she sorta-kinda-maybe-possible is in love with him and/or loves him and we don’t know what HE thinks of that, we just get judy’s interpretation. but she tells him that ‘no one has ever loved him like she has’ sorta vibes and she realizes ‘oh shit THATS what i said’ and makes a run for it. running from the fact she said that. AND NOW — we still don’t know what their next meeting is and if judy tries to clear that up or make things right. which brings us to that idea of hesitation and self-deprivation. she feels if she were confident in herself, she would’ve ran with it. but having those experiences and having feelings before that she detached from, suddenly she is enthralled with rosie and really doesn’t know what to do.

that’s definitely why the Silver Bullets crew is so important to her — it makes her feel OKAY to have those feelings and she has people who she can talk about them with her. especially about her feelings for rosie. and i think that’s really sweet :) her feeling comfortable enough to open up.

but definitely would say it makes her more hesitant. because things get VERY REAL VERY FAST. and she’s suddenly like — i AM in love with him. what do i do? do i DESERVE this? that’s her biggest question. oh judy rybinski u sweet bean!!!!!!! <3

fantastic question friend! thank you and i hope you enjoyed my response! :)

[feathers-silly-rambles]

HAZBIN

I dont know what happened, but someone probably annoyed her and now shes gonna kill them.

And Alastor's gonna watch because he finds it funny when she looses her temper with other people-

[satans-knitwear]

It has been 5 days and I have forgotten how to speak in my normal human voice.

[citylighten]

Pietro and Rosaria's tastes actually merge together pretty well

[tradingjackbs]

Attempted to do a photoshoot for the one and only cosplay I'll probably ever do and. These are the only pictures I got that matter