this came up in a conversation and i had to

Phichit Commands!

A/N: Yuri on Ice!!! (Victuuri) - 24. “I’m sorry, are we 12 now?” - I got creative with this one. Recently I’ve started to like involving Phichit in fics. Enjoy XDD

Summary: [Pre-relationship] Victor finds Yuuri skyping with Phichit and decides to eavesdrop for a little. As he does, he learns some veeery interesting things about Yuuri. Like… how ticklish he is?

Word Count: 2363


“Fanclub? Phichit-kun, I’m sorry, are we 12 now?” A smile grazed Victor’s lips and he had to pick up the cold damp towel from his bare shoulders to press it against his lips as he stood outside Yuuri’s room, peeking inside and listening in. 

The action was a good one that turned his laugh into a soft muffled chuckle, which did not give him away just yet. It had been a couple of minutes since he came back from his shower to find Yuuri engaged in a fascinating conversation with his buddy Phichit. 

He knew very well about their friendship but was just curious about their relationship since Yuuri was often talking about the Thai figure skater, but Victor had never really seen them interact. So finding Yuuri in his room, skyping with the younger male was enough to have him stand behind the door to eavesdrop. It gave him a lot of interesting and especially hilarious information:

Phichit shipped the two of them so bad, even jokingly calling them his OTP! Genius. Victor couldn’t help but blush and giggle at this. Sure he noticed their chemistry and Yuuri even boldy invited him to be his coach. But despite all that he still seemed pretty shy, which was why he just decided to take things easy.

So hearing how Yuuri’s best friend approved of them (well, even shipped them), of course that made him very happy.

“We both know you’ve been crushing on him ever since you were little.” Also that. Yuuri idolizing him, he knew, because hell those posters and pictures and what-not in his room weren’t hidden properly. 

But Phichit’s words were all the extra confirmation Victor needed to verify they were not just coach and student, not just colleagues and not just friends. They were developing a romantic bond and everyone around them probably noticed except for Yuuri himself because he probably didn’t want to believe it? 

“Phichit-kun stop it! You’re being silly!” Yuuri was still flustered and scolding Mr. shipper for joking about making a fanclub solely for shipping ‘Victuuri’ as he called it, and Victor was still barely over that and the crushing- comment when the directness of Phichit’s words took a next level.

“I’m not being silly, you are. Can’t believe you’re still not dating. You even sleep and bathe together!” Phichit joked, and Victor let out another muffled laugh.

“W-we don’t sleep together!” Yuuri protested with a squeaky voice. 

“Yeah yeah. I bet he hasn’t found about that either then,” Phichit said with enough sass and mischief to replace Victor’s urge to laugh with a lot of curiosity. ‘That’? 

“You don’t mean that that right?” Yuuri replied. What were they talking about? That that? Phichit chuckled mischievously in response.

“Oh Phichit-kun don’t you even dare ever telling him!” Yuuri argued, sounding very nervous and embarrassed, and even though Victor couldn’t see his face, he was sure he was blushing now. More curiosity. 

“Of course I am. It’s attractive, you should let him do it to you.” Do it to him!? Victor was close to having a nosebleed, or so he felt. His face was getting hot and he had no idea what these boys were talking about.

“Definitely not! It’s embarrassing!” Yuuri protested, even raising his voice. 

“No it isn’t! All he has to do is touch you in the right way and–” 

“PFFtt!” Victor wasn’t sure if it was his own flustered reaction, the hilarity of it all or both, but he suddenly couldn’t hold back his snorty laugh. Well now that he did that, he’d better make his entrance right away, and still laughing with his hand covering his mouth he wobbled into the room to where Yuuri was sitting.

“Victor!? How long have you–” Yuuri squeaked, but Victor patted his head and leaned over him to pay some good attention to the little ball of energy that apparently consisted of a lot of Yuuri-secrets.

“Hello Victor. How are you doing?” Phichit asked casually, and while ignoring Yuuri’s squeaky remarks about him being half naked and his questions of how much he’d heard, Victor responded merrily.

“Doing good! And very curious to your secret language. What is this attractive thing I have yet to find out?” he asked with a smirk, and Phichit giggled.

“What, he really doesn’t know yet?” Phichit reacted to Yuuri first, who jumped in surprise and shook his head, his hands waving as a silly reaction to some secret that was probably about to be spilled. Just when Victor tried to butt in again, Phichit already released him from his curiosity. 

“Yuuri, why don’t you tell him how ticklish you are!” 

Keep reading

3

KIND OF AN EMERGENCY POST, TW FOR CONVERSION THERAPY, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE
hey guys, my name is alexander terris. i came out as a transgender boy to my parents around a year and a half ago. while they initially seemed accepting, i found out that they had told various therapists i was delusional. when they told me i was going to see a gender therapist, i was initially overjoyed, thinking this might mean they were considering letting me transition, until i decided to look her up. pictured above are screenshots from articles on her, the last article being from a project she was involved with (the feminine boy project). unless there has been a severe misunderstanding, they are sending me to see a conversation therapist the first week of april (i am typing this march 12th). i am currently on a school field trip, discovered this less than an hour ago, and am terrified of going home. ive texted my mom confronting her about it but she hasn’t replied. if i stop posting on here for an extended period of time, it either means ive had my phone taken away or committed suicide, or both. please reblog this and try to remember me as a boy and not a girl. please, dont let them get away with this.

i was thinking about amazonian telepathy and i don’t think i can use this anywhere so

There were responsible ways to deal with being bored during League debriefs. Rather than do any of them, Diana adjusted her legs so that her knee touched Batman’s. A ragged tear in his suit meant that it was skin-to-skin contact.

She reached out tentatively.

Black Canary’s hair looks cute today, she ventured, an idle thought to share. She was careful not to go searching for any answers he did not give. She expected him to say nothing, and break contact.

Doesn’t matter, came his answer, so terse a dismissal it almost startled her. He didn’t move his leg. It seemed unlike him, but this form of communication did tend to be more honest.

How unfortunate, to imagine this was what he thought of their occasional conversations.

I’m sure she put a lot of work into it, Diana tried again. The bright blonde locks had been curled into ringlets before being drawn up into a ponytail.

Not for me.

She frowned. That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate it.

Don’t need to.

You’re being awfully rude.

It’s fine.

If I’d gone through such trouble, I’d want you to notice.

Not for me.

It will be, Diana decided. I’ll do my hair just like that, to spite you, and it will be the cutest.

Batman said nothing. Then he leaned back just a little, only enough to see where their knees touched. He glanced at Diana, then away. Was that you? he asked finally.

Of course, she said.

How long have we been having a conversation? he asked.

Since I pointed out the cuteness of Black Canary’s coiffure? she said. Batman did not respond. What did you think was happening?

Intrusive thoughts.

She tried to look at his face sidelong, though she didn’t know why. Looking at him directly would make it no easier to decipher his minimal expressions. Do your intrusive thoughts often sound like me making observations about other women?

Sometimes.

Can you two keep it down? asked J'onn. Some of us are trying to pay attention.

No you’re not, Diana accused. You just heard gossip and wanted in.

We’re not gossiping, Batman said. Don’t make me break truce.

I had also noticed Black Canary’s hair, J'onn said, ignoring Batman.

Isn’t it cute? Diana asked.

Batman sighed.

Do you think I could pull it off? J'onn asked.

Batman had a sudden coughing fit.

  • Lance: What do you want for Christmas Keith?
  • Keith: You.
  • Lance: What?
  • Keith: I have to go. Something just came up.
  • Lance: What might that be?
  • Keith: My gay thoughts.
Need (blurb)

I have no idea where this came out of.

WARNINGS: Its just pure… filth

Keep reading

but honestly, lance’s “we are a good team” came out of fucking nowhere. like, they had one conversation before all this shit went down and it was about a team cheer. lance, how in love do you have to be to be thinking about your crush at a time like this. if they had a conversation about their teamwork beforehand or something i would’ve gotten it but no. he’s just crushing in the middle of a battle, you two barely even worked together as a team, where did this come from lance?

So, I guess The Princess Bride is canonically in this universe now...

Context: My Dragonborn Ranger had parted from the party for a time due to massive guilt over accidentally blowing off the legs and eye of our Drow Bard. The Bard’s sister, the Cleric, came looking for him a few times, and eventually he let her find him. After a surprisingly earnest conversation, the topic turned to his plans for after he caught up with and killed the lifelong target of his revenge…

Voxan(Ranger): Honestly, I don’t really know… Just call me Inigo Montoya.

Eden(Cleric): That’s an interesting name, what kind of name is it? What’s it from?

Voxan: Oh, it’s from this book I loved when I was a kid, and that was the character who was on a revenge quest of his own. It never really explicitly stated his race, though… Probably for a little more wiggle room for the reader, I guess… It’s a good book, I highly recommend it.

Eden: Well, it sounds cool. Do you have a copy I can borrow?

Voxan: Well, not really, but I’m sure I can find one.

And that is not only how did the Princess Bride become canon, but also how Voxan took on a new side-quest to find a copy of it…

story time

so I’m currently in the midst of watching a lot of shows that have been recommended to me through fandom, two of these shows that are currently running are riverdale and supergirl. I’m noticing the pattern that in most wlw ships that I’ve come across usually involve a brunette lesbian and a bisexual blonde. 

This has been on my mind for a while and was brought to the forefront when I realised I was trash for both supercorp and beronica. So whilst I was at college I was surrounded by friends and I was making a few comments about it, see the majority of my friends are LGBT and so I only had to bite my tongue a few times when slowly explaining this to the straights™. Then this girl joined the conversation who was my friend and asked me to give a few examples (she doesn’t watch as much tv as I do) and I came up with this list:

  • Betty and Veronica (Riverdale) - before I realised V likes boys too
  • Kara and Lena (Supergirl)
  • Clarke and Lexa (The 100)
  • Cosima and Delphine (Orphan Black)
  • Alex and Piper (Orange is the New Black)
  • Xena and Gabrielle (Xena: Warrior Princess)
  • Emma and Regina (Once Upon a Time) - not sure about this one
  • Brittany and Santana (Glee)
  • Emily and Alison (Pretty Little Liars)
  • Carol and Therese (Carol) - also not sure

As I was going compiling this list I realised that I didn’t understand why this seemed to be so common? Also my other friend was giving me a strange look whilst I was talking about all this and it took me a minute to click. This girl that I was giving examples to was someone I used to have a thing with, we were never exclusively a couple, but it was fairly obvious through our actions and body language that we were more than friends, thankfully she didn’t catch on but this girl is a blonde bisexual, who was part of a subtext-built ship with me, a brunette lesbian??? in real life too??

3

The Trek Out

The Berg Lake Trail, Mt. Robson Provincial Park, Canada

After waking up and seeing Emperor Falls, we now had to climb down what we just climbed up…so there was another 10 miles ahead of me. I was sore and tired from the 10 miles the day before but I was higher in spirit because the rain had cleared up and I had made it up the 4 mile 2,000 ft elevation gain hill.

We took our time going back and decided to skip our camping spot that night and get a hotel room to sleep in a bed for the first time in a week and to take some much needed hot showers. At the first rest stop/ campground we came to, we made breakfast and talk with some fellow backpackers on their way out to berg lake. I conversated with an older gentleman and I am bummed I cannot remember his name. He told me about his trek to the Everest Base Camp in Nepal and just how hard it was. I was so excited to hear about his trip because this is something I have always wanted to do. I was in awe, he told me how two people in his group were not conditioned well enough and had to be helicoptered out. He made me excited and made me even dream more of trekking to Everest. In return for our conversation he gave us each a laminated tag with a four leaf clover in it that said “Berg Lake Trail 2016″, a tag that his whole team was carrying, for good luck. A little moments for meeting fascinating people out on the Berg Lake Trail!

On the way out we noticed a marathon was beginning. We had trail runners flying past us head out toward Berg Lake and we were able to cheer them on. What amazed me is that the trail runners that were in first place beat us out of the trail! I was amazed they did what took us two days in about 5 hours. Oh man they looked weathered by the end of the run though. When we got to the car I don’t think my feet have ever been so happy to not carry me and a 20lb backpack anymore.

Although we had a bear container for our food and bear spray (good things to have in this part of the world)…we saw no bears :(……once we drove away, leaving the Berg Lake Trail behind, we immediately stopped for food and had ourselves a victory meal!

© Michelle Gefre | Trail the Sun

*DO NOT REMOVE CREDIT*

I'm a Big Girl Now

Kimmy had always been a bedwetter, since as long as she could remember. She’d had no trouble potty training as an infant, but when it came to bedtime she’d always needed a little extra help. Her parents had gone through countless brands of waterproof sheets, plastic pants, and sleep aid underwear inserts, until everyone just decided that it would be better for them all if Kimmy wore pull-ups to bed. This made sleepovers a little awkward, yes, but aside from the occasional uncomfortable parent-to-parent-to-children conversation, Kimmy was a normal girl.

That is, until she turned 16. When her parents divorced, Kimmy reacted the same way most young adolescent girls do when faced with problems they don’t have any explanation for: she dyed her until-then-blonde hair jet black, started wearing copious amounts of eye makeup, and tossed out any item of clothing that could still be seen with the lights out.

Being an “alt girl” that wet the bed into her late teens proved harder than it seemed in theory. The newer crowds that she started to hang out with stayed out later, partied “harder”, and attended more shows. Despite what her mother believed, Kimmy never got into any real trouble. Her new friends were actually very kind and accepting; most of the time it was a group of two or three girls who would hang around a shopping plaza with smoothies, whining out the problems that none of their parents cared to listen to. They were moral support, but moral support that stayed up later. Crashing at a friend’s place wasn’t a problem for most “normal” girls, but the older that Kimmy got, the less “normal” her “very common” problem felt. That’s when she met Norah.

Admittedly, she had been taken off guard. Norah wasn’t a girl that fit into any of the usual cliques that erected themselves in high school. She was pretty, but didn’t brag about it, smart, but she wasn’t going to make an Ivy League, and funny, but not in the dorky way. She always seemed like she was above the whole high school thing. So when Kimmy found herself making out with Norah after a football game in the girls’ showers, her life took a turn. And as their relationship progressed into junior year, and then into senior year, and then into college, secrets naturally revealed themselves. But the fantastic thing about Norah was, she was very accepting. Scarily accepting. Readily, excitedly accepting. And the rest was history.

“Kimmy, dinner!”

Kimmy sat in the living room, watching cartoons. She was spread out on the couch in the one-bedroom apartment she and her girlfriend shared, lazily cradling a beer. “Yeah, okay!” she called back, eyes fixed to her show. Norah peaked around the corner from their tiny kitchen, pursing her lips. “Kimmy?”

Kimmy stirred, taking a sip of the beer without ripping her eyes from the screen. “Hmm? Okay, okay, let me just go to the bathr–”

“Kimberly Ford, if you don’t get into the kitchen this instant you’re going to bed early, young lady.” Norah snapped her shoulders up. She clearly meant business. Kimmy groaned.

“Okayyyyyy, I’m comingggggg,” she drawled out, hauling herself up, tying her wavy blonde hair into messy pigtails. Norah smirked, holding her arm out for her princess. “Good girl.”

Kimmy shot her a look. “Oh, piss off.” She rolled her eyes, watching her girlfriend revel. “I’m serious, Nor, Im not in the mood.” Norah laughed in her sweet, bell-like way and rested her weight onto one perfectly curved hip as she pulled a chair out for her guest. “Okay, okay, I’ll quit it.”

After they’d eaten, the girls cleared the table and Norah departed to take a shower whilst Kimmy started on the dishes. She ran the water into their shallow sink basin and let her mind wander. Her eyes ran down to the faucet, pumping warm liquid out, and she felt her thighs twitch as her bladder gently reminded her that it needed emptying. Kimmy sighed, drying off her hands and walking towards their bathroom. Behind the door, Norah was blasting her music and singing fabulously along. Kimmy couldn’t help but smile as she gingerly knocked, casually shifting her weight to baby the ache of her need. There was no response. “Norrrr?? Gotta pee, open up!” She rapped harder against the wooden barrier. Norah didn’t skip a beat. Kimberly sighed in defeat, deciding she’d just have to hold it until Norah was through.

She returned to the kitchen, starting on the odious task of dish washer. The warm water did nothing in the way of helping her ever-urgent bladder relax. She found herself crossing her legs and bouncing a little as she washed dish after dish. Luckily, the girls were pretty good about their you-cook-I-clean system, so there weren’t many dishes to do. Still, each felt like a special sort of agony after the last. Kimmy drained out the sink and listened as the shower continued to beat down its rain. Fidgety, now, she decided to distract herself with more television.

She flipped aimlessly until she came up to an episode of The Price Is Right, and, content with her choice, Kimmy leaned her head on her hand and watched as poor souls tried to guess the price of things they’d most likely never own in order to own those very things. As most people do when watching game shows, she found herself drawn into the viewer trap of “I could do so much better.”

The announcer beamed at her and held out his hand, which seemed close enough to touch. “WELLLLLLLL THEN, Miss Kimberly Ford, STEPPPP RIGHT UP!” Kimmy gasped, amazed and delighted that she had been chosen out of the many audience members. She scaled the stage in a sparkly tight number, her blonde curls bouncing voluptuously over her thin, tanned shoulders. She put in a guess, waited, bit her lip…The crowd went WILD! She’d done it! She’d won! A trip to Japan’s famous hot springs! Norah ran up onto the stage to congratulate her. They embraced, and then kissed passionately while people cheered. And then they were on a plane, and then naked, intertwined together in a beautiful steaming spring. The warmth engulfed them, and Norah was reaching behind her, pulling out a little velvet box. “Kimmy…will you do my the honor of becoming my bride?” Kimmy could hardly contain herself. “Oh, Norah! I…” she suddenly stopped, her body tingling. “I…” the air was cooler, less steamy, and her body shivered. “I…I…” she felt herself tense and she doubled over, grabbing herself between her legs. “I have to…!!!”

Kimmy was jolted awake by the sudden hot, hard squirt of pee that soaked into her panties. She shoved her fingers against her peehole and slammed her thighs together, panic white hot in her blue eyes as the burn of cutting off the stream made her muscles clench hard to keep from resuming what her body desperately needed to do. She scrambled to her feet, doubling over, and hobbled as quickly as she could to the bathroom. The door was cracked; Norah was letting the room air out while she dried off. Kimmy felt urine seep past her hand and trickle into her panties, pooling hotly and dripping in a trail to the floor.

She made it to the door, her heart racing and her legs with thin golden threads running down them. The toilet looked impossibly far away. Norah turned in surprise, immediately realizing what was happening as sobs built in Kimmy’s throat. “M-m-mistress!” She hiccuped, a jet of pee hissing audibly into her damp panties. “Mistress, I have to peepee!!” As the words left her mouth, her legs trembled and her knees buckled, and she started to pee a hard stream into her hands, still desperately grabbing at her crotch. Norah realized it was too late to do anything, going over and patting Kimmy’s back.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re having an accident in your big girl panties. Can you make it stop?” Kimmy shook her head violently. “I c-c-can’t stop! I have to weewee!! It’s coming out…!” Her words were drowned out by the sound of her hard bursts of pee turning into a constant, uncontrollable stream as she wet herself in the bathroom doorway. She pawed helplessly at her soaked panties while her body let go against her will, and her pee shot out of her petite frame in multiple rapid streams. Kimmy watched in horror as her pee splashed hard against the tile, her legs wobbly and slightly spread in ecstasy, sprinkling her toes and pooling into a warm puddle. The stream tampered off after what seemed like an eternity into a few drops, and the last of the pee that had collected around Kimmy’s naughty parts soaked into the saturated material of her pissy panties and dribbled down her legs. She sobbed and stood in the aftermath of her accident while Norah shushed her gently.

“It’s okay. Let get you cleaned up. You want me to put a nice diaper on you?” Kimmy felt her pussy throb a little at the words, despite herself. She sniffled and nodded, tugging at a blonde pigtail beside her pouting lip. “Yes please.”

a little shy (M)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 2,179

Genre: Smut

A/N: To the anon that requested this, I’m so sorry for the long wait!! And I also apologise because the ending was terrible and I procrastinated so much. But I’m making up to it by making starting dribbles? IDK I gotta think of some prompts first lmao


Originally posted by jeonify

Jeon Jungkook was many things.

He was handsome, loved by many people, smart, funny and had every single trait you loved. Everything, except one crucial trait.

Confidence.

He lacked confidence, you (being his best friend) were the only person, who was not related to, yet comfortable around. He would always become closed off and try to end the conversation quicker when a girl came up to him. You found it extremely adorable, and would often tease him about it. But at the same time, you’d feel grateful that he wasn’t shy around you.

You knew it was a habit that he couldn’t get past, but you still tried anything and everything you could to show him that being himself was all he needed to do to get any girl he wanted. When that didn’t work, you decided to try bringing him to a few parties.

However, he’d always reject your invitation and you’d have to go by yourself. One day, you were so close to giving up and letting him be, but he’d walked up to you during the day and asked you something that honestly surprised you.

“Should we go to a party?”

You stood there in front of him, completely stunned before a cheeky sly smile showed up on his face. “What? I can’t do what I want now?” He asked, obviously embarrassed by your reaction.

You laughed silently to yourself, before nodding, “Of course we can, Kookie. I’m glad you’re finally breaking out of your awkward turtle shell.” You cooed while ruffling his hair in a teasing manner, which only caused him to roll his eyes at you, but you still caught the small smile that made it’s way to his lips.

“No, Kookie. You’re not having another drink!” You scolded, slapping his hand away from grabbing another note in his wallet, “You can barely stand straight let alone say another word properly, come on. We’re going home.” You say, taking his wallet out of his hand and folding it up before placing it in his pocket.

He frowned at your actions before grabbing your wrist, “Alright fine, I’ll stop drinking. Can we just stay a little bit longer?” He asks, pouting at you. You knew you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. But you hadn’t thought of any consequences to staying, so you accepted, even though there’d be more troubles that you’d have to worry about.

You’d bought yourself a drink with little alcohol in it before Jungkook lead you over to the booth that held the rest of your friends. You were peacefully drinking your drink when you felt a heavy gaze set on you.

Your gaze moved from an empty spot on the table to the male beside you staring at you, except this time, there was something different about it. His pupils were dilated and his stare was setting chills down your spine, despite the warm atmosphere of the club. You didn’t give him much thought and returned back to your drink and train of thoughts. It wasn’t until seconds later when he placed his and on the inside of your thigh, that you finally understood what that look in his eyes were.

Lust. Lust that was mixed passionately with desire.

Maybe it was the fact that you’d been drinking too, that you didn’t try pushing his hand away. Instead, you kept eye contact with him. The tension between the two of you was growing undeniably thicker.

You quickly excused yourself and placed your empty cup on the table before exiting the booth, thankfully you were sitting on the end of the seat so it was easy for you to get out. You walked towards the door to get out before a hand wrapped around your wrist, causing you to spin around and slam into a hard chest.

You looked up only to come face-to-face with Jungkook. The look in his eyes were still clearly evident and it was enough for the heat in your lower region to grow more subtly. You had been Jungkook’s friend for so many years and during that time, you’d never thought of him anything more than a friend. But right now the thought of his body on top of yours as his lips trailed down your neck, while his hips slowly grind into yours.

You bit down on your lips at the thought and also when you noticed Jungkook’s face nearing yours. Suddenly all you wanted was the thought to be true, so you quickly planted your fingers onto his lips, not wanting to start something and only need to stop it a few seconds later, “How about we go to your place?” You whispered, before he nodded in reply and led you outside.

You both quickly ran to his car before getting in, him driving off in a matter of seconds. Your hand slowly made it’s way to the growing bulge in his jeans and you softly palmed through the fabric. You watched as he groaned in reply while his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“Fuck, Y/N. Don’t stop.” He whispered out, you obediently followed his words, applying more pressure to his rock. The sensation not only surprised you, but also filled you with a type of pleasure that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The car ride soon ended and you unbuckled your seat belt before turning to open the door. But the feeling of a large hand resting on your shoulder was what stopped you from from exiting the car. You slowly turned your head to the male beside you, “Jungkook. What-“ The feeling of his lips on yours cut your words off as you kissed him back. The kiss was hungry and rough.

Every kiss has a story behind it. In the one Jungkook was currently giving you, it was the story of a man seeking his last taste of a girl. There was need in action as well as passion. It was enough to make your excited legs clench together. You pulled away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his, “Jungkook. Inside.” You whispered, small pants falling out from your mouth. He nodded and finally let you exit the car.

You two quickly ran into the complex and, with a few stumbles here and there, you were finally in his unit. You made your way over to his bed and sat down as you waited him. He shortly entered the room and made your way over to you, a lazy smile playing on his lips. You tilted your head in confusion as he stood above you before you looped your thumb through his belt loop and pulled him on top of you.

You both fell back on the beds and reconnected your lips together once again. The taste of alcohol was dancing on both of your lips as the kiss began growing more intimate. His lips slowly pulled away from yours and made its way down your neck while soft moans and sighs of content continued to spill out of your mouth. You realised your thumb was still hooked into his belt loops so you pulled your finger back slightly, making his hips jerk into yours.

The feeling made a sharp hiss to escape your mouth. He caught on quickly to what you wanted and began grinding his hips into yours, while his mouth continued attacking your neck with kisses and nips. You moved your hands up to his hair and gently pulled at the strands as he continued doing so, his name falling from your lips multiple times at the pleasurable feeling.

You moved your hands to his cheeks as you half-heartedly lifted his head off your neck causing the feeling to disappear. You looked up at him while biting down on your lip as you admired him. His fringe hung low on his forehead, his eyes were dark and swimming with lust and you could just make out a few droplets of sweat on the tip of his nose. Your hands slowly slipped down to the bottom of his shirt as you lifted your head up, kissing the skin beneath his earlobe.

You slowly lifted his shirt up, pulling up and over his head, his large eyes staring at you once his shirt was discarded. You hands slowly trailed down his body, the tip of your fingers tracing along the lines of his abs before they stopped on the bottom of his jeans.

You two never breaking eye contact until you unbuttoned his jeans and wild your hands down the front, rubbing him through his boxers like you’d done earlier. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he thrusted himself into your hands, a low growl emitting from his throat. He sat up and quickly pulled his pants and boxers down, throwing them onto the floor. You watched him as he did this, you were used to see him shirtless but seeing the whole package that included his growing bulge made you grow even more excited.

You lifted yourself up and rested your weight onto your arms, he leaned in towards you, his hand travelling to your shoulder as he slowly pulled the sleeves down. He placed small kisses against your soft skin. He continued with his until your dress was joined with the discarded clothing on the floor.

His lips trailed soft kisses down your stomach before stopping at your panties. You hadn’t bothered wearing a bra that night, and only the thin panties you found at the back of your drawer. His hands pulled the thin fabric down and dropped it on the floor, his fingers running against your slit while his lips placed kisses along your inner thigh. “Jungkook.” You moaned out, bucking your hips as you waited impatiently for his mouth against your centre. He chuckled to himself as he looked up at you, “You’re so wet, babe. Give me a moment to relish this.” He whispered, the warm breath of his voice hitting your core, making a jolt of electricity run throughout you.

“Jungkook please.” You whispered, your fingers gripping his hair as you core began growing more wet. Without a warning, his licked a long streak up your slit, collecting all your juices before looking up at you. Your juices were glistening on the corner of his lips and the sight made you curl your toes up in anticipation. He quickly dove back to your slip, his tongue attacking your clit with his skilled tongue.

You let out a last gasp, arching your back up as your hips bucked forwards, wishing to get more of his tongue inside of you. He gripped your hips down and chuckled against you, the vibration making a soft moan escape your mouth while the knot in your stomach twisted. He added a finger into you, thrusting in and out quickly before he added another finger, curling the top while rapidly pumping it in and out of you. His fingers were already long enough to cause your climax to come nearer, but when he curled them, you could feel yourself on the nearing the edge.

“I’m- Fu-uck.” You moaned out, feeling your climax wash over you. He continued pumping his fingers into your as his tongue licked up the remains of your orgasms. You pushed his head away from the sensitive bud as he moved up connecting your lips roughly, making you moan at the taste of yourself.

He pulled back from the kiss before reaching over to his bedside drawer, grabbing a condom and ripping the film with his teeth, pulling the rubber over his hardened awaiting member. He leaned down and connected your lips together in a passionate kiss, before pulling back. “I’m gonna make this quick because the alcohol’s starting to kick in.” He whispers against you lips, making you nod in reply.

His eyelids were drooping with fatigue, but you couldn’t end with what you’d both started. He positioned his member against yours and slid in, giving you time to adjust before thrusting dip into you. You moaned out at the feeling of his length feeling your up while your nails trailed down his bare back.

He continued pounding into you as he gently bit down on the skin between your shoulder and neck. He reached his hand down to your clot, rubbing your band as you both neared your much need release. Your mouth released multiple curses as well as his name as your orgasm washed over you. He came seconds after you, riding out both of your highs for a few more seconds before he pulled out and pulled the condom off, then climbing into his bed. He wrapped his arm around you as you faced each other. He moved the blanket on top of both of you before placing another kiss on your lips.

“Jeon Jungkook.” You whispered smiling to yourself as he hummed in response.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never been with a girl after that.” You say, hearing him let out a loud laugh, just as you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

Hmm..

Thinking back to the Episode where Jughead was chillin against the bleachers at the Football game and Archie came up, apologized, yadda yadda to his homeboi… 

Why would Jughead even bother showing up at the game anyway? Yea, maybe a part of him was hoping he and Archie would have a reconciliation, but usually you don’t get many conversations in with those actually playing in the game. And they were technically still on the outs. Sooo.. 

Jughead was there to see Betty. Probably saw/heard that she had become a Cheerleader and wanted to check it out himself. Boom! Makes so much sense, right? Or am I just thinking too much into this shit.. hahah this hiatus is making me go over everything in the show in my head again. 

Originally posted by gameraboy

Stabilized

This should go up on AO3 soon and I’ll add the link. I’m still on official hiatus from fic prompts and chapter updates, but I’m writing other things as I have time and inspiration strikes. This was spawned out of a brief conversation about a specific line of dialogue and it was fun to write. It got sappy and I do not apologize.

Stabilized
Gen/Family Bonding
Tim Drake + Bruce Wayne
Rated T for Language
~2500 words

The Batmobile roared into the Cave and the engine cut-off, plunging the bay into silence. Only voices from the medical unit carried over when Batman leapt out of the car.

“How is he?” he called, pulling back his cowl as he hurried up the steps.

“Dazed and a little incoherent,” came Alfred’s reply. “I’m still assessing him now.”

Bruce had been on patrol with Damian when Oracle had informed him over the comm that Tim had been taken back to the cave with a head injury of unspecified severity. Cassandra had found him and then had fallen silent on the comms after letting Oracle know.

He climbed the steps to see Tim perched on the edge of the gurney, a bucket in his hands. It looked freshly rinsed. Cass was sitting on the countertop with her arms wrapped around her folded legs. Alfred was prepping a CT scanner they’d invested in after an earlier nasty head wound.

“Is Robin with you?” Alfred asked, glancing over as Bruce took in the scene.

“He’s with Batgirl,” Bruce said, not taking his eyes off Tim.

“Miss Cassandra might appreciate your help in engaging Master Timothy’s attention.”

“Listen,” Cass said, when Bruce took a step closer to them. Tim had still not noticed his arrival, or if he had, he had given no indication of it. “Tim. Tell me again. Becoming Robin.”

“So,” Tim said, his word slurred. He leaned forward over the bucket and nearly toppled off the gurney. Cass slid forward, a tangle of limbs unfurling and stretching toward him in the same instant Bruce put a hand on Tim’s shoulder and gently pushed him upright again.

“So,” Tim repeated, “you know, you know the first part.”

“Green. Girls. Fast cars,” Cass supplied, weight braced on her hands on the countertop. She held her body aloft, an inch above the surface, by her splayed palms.

Bruce’s heartbeat stuttered, knowing and hating this origin story. He loved Tim but he tried not to think often of why Tim was there.

“Exaaaactly,” Tim said. “Gone. So, B, you know B, he’s a fucking disaster. Like Cass you don’t even know how bad. He was erratic and violent and reclusive like a baby kangaroo. Cass, don’t laugh at me, I’m serious,” Tim’s voice took on a pleading tone and Cass was in fact, giggling behind her hands. She’d dropped back to the counter to cover her face. “Baby kangaroos are dangerous, Cass. They have really strong legs but they hide, too,” Tim sounded near tears.

“Okay,” she said, consoling. Bruce felt like he wasn’t doing much to help other than ensuring Tim wouldn’t topple over, but he was also reluctant to miss the rest of the story from Tim’s perspective.

“He was hiding and I knew where to find him,” Tim said. “I snuck in. Who gives a fuck about rules, not me. I never have. Anyway I found him, and he was all like, ‘What are you doing here, punk? Aren’t you Jack Drake’s kid?’”

Bruce had half-anticipated this part of the story, but he has not anticipated that Tim’s voice would rise to a falsetto while imitating Bruce’s lines instead of dropping to a lower octave. He had to stifle a sudden laugh.

Cass’ eyes were shining and Bruce realized belatedly she’d said “again” earlier. She had wanted him to hear this.

“Then what,” Cass prompted when Tim’s attention began to drift.

“Oh,” Tim said. “Oh yeah. So. So, I found him. And he was angry. But I just told him the truth. I said, ‘bitch, you need some kid to stabilize you, and I guess I have to be it.’”

Bruce, despite his twinges of guilt and amusement, could not actually argue with the truth of this summation.

“I seem to remember more pleading on your end, Master Timothy,” Alfred interjected a bit defensively.

“No, that’s pretty much it,” Bruce said with a wry grin. Cass beamed at him unabashedly.

Tim turned as if surprised and looked up at Bruce standing next to him.

“Hey, bitch,” he said in a sluggish tone. “I mean, Bruce,” he amended without apology.

“Hey, kid,” Bruce said. “They told me you hit your head.”

“That’s stupid,” Tim spit out bitterly. “Something else hit my head, not me. I’m not an idiot.”

“Brick wall,” Cass said.

“That,” Tim said forcefully, pointing a finger at her. “What Rainbow Daughter said.”

“True name,” Cass clarified for Bruce. “Secret.”

“The scanner is ready,” Alfred said. “Master Timothy, if you might lie back?”

“Try and make me,” Tim said. “I can go back out there. I’m fine!”

“Tim,” Bruce said, a little sternly, and Tim sighed and reclined on the bed, still clutching the bucket. “Has he been nauseous?” Bruce asked Alfred.

“No,” Tim answered. “I just like this bucket.”

“Ask him questions,” Alfred said. “Keep him awake, if you might.”

“Favorite dinosaur?” Cass asked before Bruce could think of anything.

“Velociraptor,” Tim answered with a scoffing noise. “What kind of question is that.”

“Movie?” Bruce asked and Cass gave him an alarmed expression. From inside the portable scanner Tim sniffled hard and bit back a sob.

“Dumbo,” he whispered a second later.

“Favorite happy film,” Alfred amended, giving Bruce a severe look. “One must specify.”

Cass added a reproving frown to this, and a nod, as if it was common sense.

Inside the machine, Tim sniffed again and answered in a steadier tone, “No such thing. Is Bruce still there?”

“Yes,” Bruce answered.

“Tell them. There are no happy films,” Tim insisted.

“I’m sure there are some happy films,” Bruce countered slowly, looking to see Alfred’s still disapproving reaction to this concession.

“But you haven’t seen any,” Tim said sourly. “You can’t think of any. Art is misery.”

Bruce, who had been feeling slightly bewildered by his apparently massive misjudgment moments before, knew immediately that this was something he could salvage.

“That isn’t true,” he argued, ignoring the absurdity of disagreeing with a stubborn teenager who had a probably massive concussion. “What about the photo essay on abandoned research labs in Gotham?”

“The one I did for Wired?” Tim asked hesitantly. “Yeah, that was fun.”

In the corner of Bruce’s line of sight, Cass bit her lip to hold back a pleased smile.

“Nikon or Canon?” Bruce asked next, dragging a wheeled stool over to the gurney and sitting down.

“Digital or traditional?” Tim asked, his whole body now otherwise still.

“Both,” Cass said. “I guessed.”

“Canon for digital, Nikon for traditional,” Tim said. “Were you right?”

“Yes,” Cass said quietly, despite having no proof of this. Bruce didn’t doubt her. He himself had been fairly certain.

“Hell yes,” Tim said triumphantly. “Sibs know shit.”

“Sibs know shit,” Cass repeated solemnly, like it was a vow of some kind. For all the weight they gave it, Bruce supposed it might have been.

“I’m gonna sleep,” Tim announced with a yawn. “It’s so cold in here.”

“Tim,” Bruce said, instead of trying to persuade him otherwise. “Which USSR camera model did you prefer?”

“You don’t remember that,” Tim said as if it were obvious fact. “No way.”

“Of course I do,” Bruce said, because he did.

“Zorki-6,” Tim said with a fond sigh.

“Why?” Bruce asked, because he wanted to keep him talking and because he’d always been curious about the antique camera Tim had spent a long spring season taking everywhere. He’d come to Bruce’s office after school most afternoons to sit on the couch and do homework and fiddle with the settings. He’d take pictures from the window, or traipse around the building with the camera, and develop them in the darkroom at the manor afterward instead of going home. But Bruce has never asked– Tim had been skittish about his art then, likely to tuck it away if anyone paid attention.

“Because no one else that I knew had one,” Tim said. “And it smelled like your old briefcase.”

Bruce was so acutely aware of Cass sitting nearby and Alfred beside him overseeing the machine as it powered down that it didn’t take much effort to retain his face’s composure, but there was a moment where it nearly broke in surprise and sentimental warmth.

“Good smell,” Cass said.

“Hell yes,” Tim said again. “One of the best. Like vanilla extract.”

Bruce was frozen on the stool while they discussed this and he exchanged a look with Alfred that told him, without words, that his semblance of facial control was likely a myth.

“Ew,” Cass said. “Bitter.”

“I told you, you can’t taste it,” Tim said. “Extract is gross to taste.”

The machine rolled back and Tim was prone on the bed, still, the small bin wrapped in his arms.

“This is just a cursory glance,” Alfred said, “but I don’t see anything concerning. His heart rate is still a tad elevated.”

A suspicion bloomed in Bruce’s mind and his frozen limbs moved again. He slid the stool down toward Tim’s head and leaned over the bed, looking into the boy’s face.

“Tim. How many shots of espresso did you get in your red eye tonight?”

“Oh,” Tim said, thinking. “Before I fought with the wall.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, a smile quirking one side of his mouth.

“Uh,” Tim said, meeting Bruce’s gaze and then looking down at the bin. “You’re going to be pissed.”

“I won’t be,” Bruce said, promising to himself as much as Tim. “If you tell me, you might get to sleep soon.”

“I’m so tired,” Tim allowed. “Really. Like, it’s been days. Fudge. I’m so tired.”

“C’mon,” Bruce said, and he felt Cass move behind him before he saw her at his elbow.

Cass bent forward and kissed Tim’s forehead.

“You tell,” she said. “Or else.”

“Seven,” Tim whined with a hand over his eyes. “Seven, okay? And maaaaybe a Red Bull. I’m a robin. It gives me wings.”

“Well, that solves that mystery,” Bruce said, sitting up. “Al, mark this one down as a minor concussion and an excess of caffeine consumption.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred said, aghast. “You ought to know better.”

“I said don’t be mad!” Tim protested.

“Master Bruce made such a promise,” Alfred replied sharply, with worry in his voice. “You will be staying here for a few days, is that understood?”

Tim nodded sullenly and stuck both arms in the air, suddenly, the bin clattering on the floor when it fell.

“Carry me,” he ordered. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Cass reached over and prodded his knee; Tim’s leg jerked away.

“Liar,” she said simply.

“I’m compromised.” Tim jiggled his arms, held out in a zombie-like fashion. “Somebody. I don’t want to sleep in the cave.”

Bruce stood up and slid an arm under Tim’s shoulders and another under his knees. Tim slumped against him, unresisting, as he straightened.

“Night, Timmy,” Cass called from her reclaimed perch on the counter while Alfred muttered under his breath. When Bruce glanced back, she’d scooted down to hug the older man around the neck and Alfred patted her hands.

“How bad is your headache?” Bruce asked as he climbed the steps in the cave.

“Middling,” Tim mumbled against the batsuit Bruce was still wearing.

“And anxiety?” Bruce prompted next, knowing from experience the side effects of that much caffeine. He’d gotten a few stern lectures from Alfred when he hadn’t been much older than Tim.

“Um,” Tim said, “pretty shitty. How’d you know?”

“When was the last time you asked me to carry you?” Bruce questioned in reply. “I think the answer is probably never.”

“I was serious about my legs. They fell asleep,” Tim said, his head still turned against Bruce’s chest as Bruce side-stepped through the narrow door. The boy sounded almost asleep already, but more lucid than earlier. “I didn’t want to fall in front of you guys.”

“Hm,” Bruce said. He rounded the corner and began climbing the second set of stairs. Tim had never, even with muscle, been very heavy.

“I miss you,” Tim mumbled when they reached the top. “I try really hard not to be bitter about Damian, but I miss how things were before. When it was us.”

“Me, too,” Bruce said, knowing he meant it and that no one else was around to hear. He knew Damian would take it the wrong way and was glad he was still out, but he felt the same way about each of them as Robin. He did miss the days when he was out on the rooftops with Tim.

“I know it wouldn’t be the same,” Tim said, as if consoling himself.

“Handle,” Bruce prompted, stopping at the door.

Tim flopped his hand over and swung it wildly around, reaching without looking. When his fingers landed on the knob, he turned and his grip slipped off.

“It’s locked,” he complained. “I don’t know where I left the key.”

“I can kick it open,” Bruce said, considering. “But Alfred might be upset. I could pick the lock. Or we can go down the hall and you can steal my bed for the night.”

“Where would you sleep?” Tim demanded groggily, and Bruce took that as his cue and headed further down the hall.

“The couch in my office,” Bruce said. “Or a guest room.”

“Your bed has good pillows,” Tim mumbled when Bruce worked the knob with his knee and pushed the door open. He carried Tim across the room to the bed and stood there for a moment, then dropped him abruptly onto the comforter.

“Bruce,” Tim complained, laughing. He crawled under the covers until all but the top of his head had disappeared and from under the thick blankets, he sighed.

Bruce sat on the edge of the side table and reached over and ruffled Tim’s hair.

“You did stabilize me, you know,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Tim said in a drifting tone.

“You can’t keep doing this, Tim,” Bruce said when Tim rolled over and pressed his hand against Bruce’s outstretched hand. “Come by my office. Or we can patrol. But you need sleep. And less caffeine.”

Tim nodded and yawned.

“Okay,” he said. “Sorry.”

“You’re a good kid, Tim,” Bruce added. He wished he said it more often.

“You too, bitch,” Tim said, and then he giggled. It sounded young and childish coming from him. “Sorry. Sorry. I mean, thanks. My heart is still going crazy.”

It was Bruce’s turn to yawn.

“You okay?” he asked. “I need to get out of this suit.”

“Mhm,” Tim said. “M’good. Night, Bruce.”

“Goodnight, Tim,” Bruce answered, standing. “Shout if you need something.”

The answer was a soft snore. Bruce closed the door behind him and stopped to pick the lock to Tim’s door on the way down the hall.

It was unlocked.

Bruce grinned.

anonymous asked:

Are there any deaf/hard of hearing characters in the DCU? I know Marvel had Hawkeye which they ignored the deafness of in the movies.

I hadn’t actually thought about that! Which is a huge oversight on my part, holy crap. I tried googling for canon characters and all I found was Count Vertigo? Which isn’t… great… but maybe there are other characters I don’t know about, or else characters that are popularly headcanoned as deaf?

People who know stuff about things: lemme know what’s up!

Ok ya’ll. Last night I was thinking about muggleborn kiddos and about Harry’s gen being born in the 80′s and going to Hogwarts in the 90′s - and being a fan of skate punk, 90′s ska and other crap I had the thought about what the fashion must have been for the muggleborn children when they came to Kings Cross for the first time. How many of those kids do you think showed up in ripped jeans and converse shoes? How many of those kids do you think showed up in Green Day shirts that said DOOKIE across the front and the non-muggleborn kids were kind of embarrassed and whispered to themselves “why do they have that word on their shirt???’ And what about the older muggleborn kids who in their 4th and 5th years come back to Hogwarts from Summer break with skateboards under their arms and their non-muggleborn friends are excited because even though it’s a board with wheels “You can do tricks too?? Show me!! And this is a muggle invention??” And maybe they try to discreetly put a spell on the board to prevent you from falling off or something. And then maybe some of the kids have dyed their hair and when their friends ask them if they’re a Metamorphmagusthey just go “A what? I dyed it’ and the others go “YOU KILLED YOUR HAIR AND IT TURNED BLUE?? I WANT TO TRY”

like seriously though, I want to know about the skate punk scene at Hogwarts.

And on that note, can you imagine like Draco being the kid that would take a skateboard while the owner was sleeping and trying to ride it in the halls? “If muggles can do this and make a sport of it, it can’t be that hard.” And then he busts his ass on the first try.

Watching You

For the Anon who requested 21 and 41 with Gibbs “I think I’m in love with you, and that terrifies me.” “Quick, kiss me.”

“We lost him?” McGee panted as you two came to a stop, having chased your killer from one side of campus to the other, losing him in a crowd of party goers downtown. Your killer was a student targeting former Marines who had come back to college to finish their education after their service.

“I’ll call Gibbs.” You grumbled, picking up your phone and dialing. You told him your location and he said that they were on their way to meet you and you’d all regroup and move from there. You and Tim stayed where you were, making light conversation but you couldn’t shake a feeling, and the hairs on the back of your neck kept prickling.

“Do you feel like we’re being watched?” You whispered, tugging slightly on McGee’s sleeve. He rolled his eyes at you.

“No.” He stated, pulling his arm away from you, and successfully removing his sleeve from your nervous hands.

“McGee!” You whined slightly giving him a look, “Someone is watching us, I can feel it.”

“What can you feel?” The voice came from directly behind you and you squeaked jumping and turning around, hands going up.

“Not funny DiNozzo!” You glared, punching his arm. Gibbs smirked at him,

“At least you weren’t wrong.” He offered and you rolled your eyes.

“No it was not you two, I just have a really bad feeling, okay?”

“You always have a bad feeling.” Gibbs teased and you crossed your arms over your chest frustrated.

“I’m serious!” Gibbs opened his mouth to answer you, but then his eyes widened and suddenly he was launching himself towards you, there was a loud bang, and you were both on the ground.

In seconds McGee was pulling Gibbs off of you and flipping him onto his back, and that’s when you noticed the blood all over the two of you. The source? His shoulder.

“Gibbs!” You cried, hands pressing to the wound, “McGee?”

“It was Louis, he shot and us, Ziva and Tony are chasing him down, worry about Gibbs.” You nodded your head, putting as much pressure on the wound as your could.

“I’ll be fine (Y/N) It’s a shoulder wound. Just don’t let me bled out.” He instructed and you couldn’t help the little laugh, even when he was the one shot he was still calling the shots… pun not intended.  

“I don’t let anything happen to you.” You promised, giving him a tight smile. Gibbs winced slightly. 

“McGee, walk away for a minute.”

“Boss, I-”

“McGee.” He barked, and that was not a voice you were able to argue with. McGee got up and took a few paces away, turning his back to you.

“Gibbs?” You asked unsure, his hand came up, gripping your shoulder, then moving to the back of your neck, you watched him, cheeks heating up.

“Can I come back?” McGee called, and you rolled your eyes, looking back down at Gibbs.

“Quick,” He whispered, “kiss me… I might die after all.”

“Don’t say that.” You whispered leaning down to kiss Gibbs gently like you’d done many times before. But never in such a dangerous situation, and never this close to your team.

“I think I’m in love with you, and that terrifies me.”  You whispered, sniffling back a few tears and he frowned, hand coming down to wipe the tears away.

“Why does it terrify you?”

“Because I can’t lose you this soon after saying that.”

“(Y/N)” Gibbs smiled. “I love you too. You are not losing me.”

Pick-Pocket

Because @artsyfalafel and I had a conversation, and this came out of it. 


“-and the daguino was COMPLETELY overcooked!” the old man at the table next to them spat, his saliva literally landing on the alien servers face. “I DEMAND a refund!”

The server nodded hastily, eyes wide, and rushed off to the kitchen area, leaving the man to grumble to his wife about using the restroom.

Lance popped up from his seat with a bright smile on his face, dropping his napkin next to Keith and clapping his hands together. “Be right back, guys. Gotta use the little paladin’s room.”

“Just go to the bathroom, Lance,” Shiro muttered, not even looking up from his menu.

Lance shot the table a set of finger guns and darted out of sight, towards the back of the restaurant that Coran had told the paladins about. “Anyone else think that old guy was being totally unreasonable?” Keith grumbled, glancing at the table next to them and wrinkling his nose.

Pidge grinned and glanced down at her menu, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh yeah. Total asshat.”

Keep reading

When people started asking me who I saw Cassandra being shipped with, I was like, “Jenkins.” I was sort of half-joking, half-serious. But when we started talking about this episode and just mortality versus immortality, the Jenkins conversation came up again, and it was like, “No, that’s why she loves him!” It all fell into place. Although there is this clearly intellectual connection there, and he’s a father figure to the whole group, and she’s never had anyone like that in her life, but also he’s a very handsome man and she loves him and what he does for the Library. There’s a great deal of respect there. But also this idea that he has everything that she doesn’t. She is going to die, and he’s going to live forever. That idea of wanting something that you can’t have, or that somehow he could protect her and be the one to save her, is really appealing. I understood that love, and I understood being so overwhelmed by grief that you don’t know what to do. And to turn to him seems, to me, so logical.
—  Lindy Booth on Jenkins and Cassandra (x)

CONFESSION: 

I’m currently bawling my eyes out because I just finished another playthrough of Origins and it didn’t end how I’d plan. Usually I plan out every detail of my playthrough down to the last detail. I was a human noble who vowed to be the best Grey Warden she could be. I’d made her a two handed warrior that wielded a giant maul and I based her off Nora Valkyrie from RWBY. I knew she was gonna romance Alistair and that she would sacrifice herself for him. Except when the time came to kill the archdemon and the conversation with Alistair popped up, I think I might have chosen the wrong dialogue options or something and before I knew it Alistair had jumped forward to take the blow instead. I resemble this crying ball of anxiety because nothing has gone to plan and I didn’t save at all during the Battle for Denerim so if I want to reload I have to reply 6 hours of gameplay. I might even do that because I’m experiencing survivors guilt right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep in this current state. I was so stupid - I NEED to start remembering to save.