my reality is different than yours

I’ve been toying with the idea for a long time that some of the things Yuuri says, especially in the first couple episodes, are not exactly the truth and should be looked into farther. Honestly, we knew Yuuri was unreliable the moment the show opened–he referred to himself as “dime-a-dozen,” when he is literally the only male skater certified by the JSF within canonverse. 

And he made it to the GPF, you know? He’s one of the top 6 skaters in the world, right off the bat! It took us a few episodes to understand Yuuri’s character to realize the context of these statements, but we figured out pretty early on that Yuuri is the embodiment of Unreliable Narrator™. Especially after ep10, jfc. 

Anyway, why I’m bringing this up is because Kubo seemed to confirm a little theory of mine I’ve had stewing for a while and I wanted to share it with you.

So. Episode 1. The commemorative photo scene. 

I wanna first establish that this scene took place before the banquet. During the series run, sometime just afterwards, and occasionally even now there’s debate over when that scene took place. It wouldn’t make sense to happen after the banquet because they’re not only still wearing the team jackets, but they’re also wearing passes

The outside sign has information about the competition 

and Victor is talking to Yuri about his routines

which he probably wouldn’t do if it was up to a day later. 

We know how the rest of the scene goes. Victor seems to not recognize Yuuri at all, mistakes him for a fan, asks if he wants a photo, and then Yuuri leaves, thoroughly humiliated. Or, at least, that’s Yuuri’s version of what happened. I think generally everything that was said got said, all the movements and series of events were the same, but the implications of the offer were different. 

I have multiple anxiety disorders. When I remember something that I felt was a misstep or caused embarrassment, I always remember it slightly off. A person’s tone is more mocking or condescending, my reaction is worse than it was. There’s a lot of shame when it comes to anxiety and your mind immediately assumes you’re viewed to be–and are–on a lower pedestal than everyone else. Yuuri, clearly, has severe anxiety, so I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to think that, since this is from his perspective, maybe reality is a bit different than what he is able to give us. 

Anyway, my thoughts had no basis, so I’ve kept them to myself, but then Kubo came out and said this:

and then the fanbase lit up in flames because Victor know Yuuri was a fan before the banquet. But this also implies one thing I got super excited about: Victor has seen him skate, before the commemorative photo scene. 

meaning that everyone’s preconception that Victor mistook Yuuri for a fan has been completely blown out of the water. 

So, why would Victor ask him about a photo then? 

I think it’s important to keep in mind that Victor likes to make people feel good about their abilities. He likes teaching others, and he likes motivating them too. He gets pleasure out of seeing people rise to their potential. 

Although he’s flighty and kind of an airhead, and tends to ignore what he doesn’t find interesting, I don’t think Victor would ignore the scorings or the competitors landing below 3rd place. Victor clearly knew that Yuuri fell to last place, hard. This is just speculation, but maybe Yuri mentioned to Victor the incident with Yuuri crying in the bathroom. Or, perhaps Victor had already seen the press about Yuuri: he’s notorious for losing his nerve during competitions and failing to meet his potential. When Yuuri goes down, he tends to crash and burn. 

(also honda’s words imply yuuri usually performs very well)

Victor likes making people happy and better versions of themselves. Now he’s faced with the competitor who fell to last place, staring at him a few feet away. A competitor who is known for his anxiety and tendency to shy away from others. A competitor who just so happens to be a fan. So, what is Victor to do to help Yuuri feel better, or even open up a bit?

Initiate conversation. Try to reel him in to interacting with an open, non-threatening question and a tried-and-true welcoming smile. 

“Commemorative Photo?”

Victor didn’t mistake Yuuri for a non-competing fan, he knew who Yuuri was and was just trying his best to make Yuuri feel better. Victor, as we’ve seen throughout the series, resorts to giving comfort through action rather than words first and foremost. Unfortunately for him, this is not what Yuuri needs. 

It backfired. But I think Victor had good intentions. They were strangers so it’s not like Victor could just walk up and start a motivating speech. He tried to invite Yuuri to talk to him, someone Yuuri looked up to, and maybe they could talk and Victor could brighten his day? 

Victor wasn’t very tactile, and Yuuri didn’t stand his ground and identify himself, so they got nowhere with that. 

I’m so glad Kubo said this. This face looks like a combination of surprise and disappointment, perhaps not only in Yuuri rejecting him but also in himself for not being able to help.

and this face 

looks more concerned and surprised that Yuuri showed rather than like “oh shit, he’s a competitor.”

Poor Yuuri. Poor Victor. They really need to communicate better. 

Why Do You Not Want to Represent Us?

A Discussion on Culture and Erasure

WWC frequently receives asks wondering if it’s alright to have PoC distant from their culture, outright not having one— or even if it’s okay to make something up to fit what the person wants to write about. And we feel the need to ask: why? Why do you only want our looks, our cultural trappings, without ever having a culture? Why do you want to perpetuate the pain of assimilation, of abuse, of violence? Why do you wish to create something “better” for your own gains, instead of taking us as we are?

That is what you are doing, every time you do not put in all of us, or create something to fit your own whims over our reality. We are more than our skin and outward appearance of difference. We are more than a collection of traits. We are more than stereotypes of what you think we are. Our ethnicities colour every aspect of our lives and, while we aren’t thinking about it all the time, we are aware of it. We were built by it. We live it every day. 

Representation is more than simply “I have brown people.” It is “I have this segment of culture respected in my story.” It means “this character is me”, which means this character must be built by the same factors that built us— our culture. Our real culture, not modified with “artistic licence” to make a “better” plot.

By stripping us of our ethnicities, you are stripping away our hearts. You are stripping away our homes. You are writing stories that simply remind us the world sees our bodies and cultures as playthings. As if our souls can be fragmented and split apart so you can tell yourself “I’m being diverse.” How can you say that when we do not see ourselves in your work? You are not doing anyone any justice. You have failed to understand the concept of what representation even is: a person’s life in media.

While we are no different from the majority in terms of our minds, our passions, our ideas, we are different in where we come from. Our experience was shaped by our culture and in order to show us as true characters, you must give your own characters our ethnicity’s history. Our comforts will be different from yours because we grew up being comforted by different things. Our favourites will be different because we hold different things at higher value.

Assimilating us with your actions— refusing to do the proper work involved to truly build a character of Color with as rich a background as white characters— simply perpetuates the pain of being marginalized. It’s lazy. 

That also isn’t to say that people without complex relationships to their ethnicities exist, but ask yourself: are you the person to tell this story? Chances are, you are not. Leave narratives of pain to the people who’ve lived it, where they belong. We are not your stock plots. 

Respect us enough to take all of us, not just the parts you want. To do anything else would be an injustice.

- WWC

LUCID DREAMING: HOW TO

SO LUCID DREAMING!!  

Some people asked because of my TONGUE IN CHEEK POST about it the other night, well!!! all it is, is being consciously aware that you’re dreaming. You can kinda train your brain to do it and it’s fukken awesome ok!  I learned from a bunch of books I got out from the library one summer back in high school and I have kept up all the habits since then until shit got weird but we don’t talk about that

sometimes you get to a point where you can control your dream and force yourself to dream about a certain thing . either way it’s really damn neat to just have conscious awareness while you’re asleep and if nothing else, it’s something fun to do that doesn’t cost anything.

I got into it a few years before Inception came out, if you can believe it. So when that movie came out talking about the same ideas my mind was  blown 

First things first:

1) DREAM RECALL:

This is your ability to actually remember your dreams. Because imagine, even if you end up having a lucid dream,  what’s the point if you completely forget it as soon as you’re awake? Some people think they don’t dream anymore but it isn’t true, everyone dreams. Some people just don’t remember.

So Write down  all your dreams, anything that you can remember as soon as you wake up.

I just text it to myself first thing in the morning and usually they’re super disjointed and barely readable but it’s just enough to have me remember them again. even if you can only remember little snippets, the more you do this the better you can get at remembering.

2) DREAM CUES

Dream cues are these little things that make you realize you’re asleep because they differ between reality and your dreams. They’re kind of like triggers that will make you realize you’re dreaming. The idea is to check in on these cues even when you’re awake, so that when it becomes a habit in real life, it will become a habit when you’re asleep.

It’s also a good way to check if you’re actually awake because sometimes dreams are super realistic. I’ve had a lot of dreams where I woke up in my bed, then did the reality check only to figure out I was dreaming.

Different people have different ones but there’s some common ones:

-mirrors: In real life you look like yourself. in a dream you’ll look like a really distorted version of yourself or like a completely different person. I don’t recommend this one because what you see in the mirror might freak you out into just waking up lol

-counting your fingers and seeing more or less than the amount of fingers you have

-electronics that don’t work

-text that changes when you read it, look away and then read it again

-dim lights [i hate light dimmers for this reason eugh]

-loose teeth

My personal ones are the and fingers and the changing text! So in real life, I count my fingers, and read some text, look away and read it again to see if it changes.

If I have more than 5 fingers, I realize I’m asleep and that’s where the lucid part starts.

Personally for me, all of these have served as dream cues, but these two are the ones that i literally check on. Another big one for me is if my teeth are loose, it’s an automatic cue for knowing I’m asleep.

INDUCING A LUCID DREAM

So you made a habit out of checking in on your dream cues and writing down your dreams. Now how do you actually do this thing….

There are some REALLY SPECIFIC METHODS To inducing a lucid dream . Some people practice one method that brings you from wakefulness directly into a dream, with NO LOSS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. I find this a little rarer but it’s definitely happened to me

Others have the method where you fall asleep as usual, end up in a dream, and then your consciousness wakes up while you’re in the dream. This is more common I think.

my sleep science might be off but this is it as I’ve understood it.

so the general method is to go to bed super early. like 9pm. And set your alarm for Stupid O Clock. I am talking some ungodly hour that you will never be up, like 4:30.

Reason being: You will literally never go to sleep and immedeitly start dreaming. You have to have been asleep for a few hours, having gotten a few sleep cycles in. The longer you sleep, the deeper your sleep cycles run and the more restful sleep you’ll have as the night goes on. It’s only in the later sleep cycles that you start to dream.

This is the reason you’re groggy in the morning [you were just in the middle of your deepest sleep cycle] but not groggy at all if you wake up at like 12

So the goal is to wake up right before you’re gonna go into a deep sleep cycle.

Stay awake for a few minutes, go to the bathroom or something, read some stuff on lucid dreaming on your phone… You want to wake up your brain so that your mind is conscious and running even though you’re dead tired.

Now you can go back to sleep, and the conditions are pretty much met for having a lucid dream.

SO GENERALLY NOW, it’s really likely that you’re gonna have a regular dream.

But if you’ve been making a habit out of doing your dream cues/reality checks while you’re awake, at some point you’re gonna do it while you’re asleep.

stuff from the waking world carries over into dreamtown. it’s the same reason you’ll have super realistic dreams about your job or people you know.

IT’S ACTUALLY SUPER COOL When you do your dream-cues and you see different results from real life. Like I’ll count my fingers and realize there’s 6 of them and be like Ohhh shit! I’m asleep! Time to go wild.

Usually I just fly around like a motherfucker but it’s so cool to be your exact same self who is able to think about your family/friends/homework/life/memes except you’re flying

CONTROLLING THE DREAM

OK SO NOW THAT YOU’RE AWAKE while dreaming, you can  try controlling your dream. This is a bit harder to explain but in my opinion it’s as easy as focusing/dwelling on what you want to do..kind of like repeating a mantra mentally.

Like lets say you’re dreaming and you come across a house. As you’re walking towards it, tell yourself “Captain Kirk is in this house and we’re gonna have the time of our damn life.” TELL YOURSELF WITH CONVICTION! BELIEVE IT! CAPTAIN KIRK IS IN THE HOUSE! OVER AND OVER!

also try practising controlling on little things first. Like point to the sky and say “brighter” or “more purple” or “bluer” or think “I want it to be night time instead" and it SHOULD change.

STAYING IN THE DREAM

There’s 2 tricks I know of that will keep you in a dream for longer when you feel like you’re about to wake up and you don’t want to.

One is spinning: If you feel yourself waking up, try spinning around on the spot till you’re dizzy. Things will blur around you and then they will clear up and get super sharp! Especially spinning while crouching. I have no idea why this works, but it does and others have said the same thing.

The other is, when you feel like things are getting blurry, focus on ONE spot in the dream. I usually crouch and like, stare at the details and texture of the road really really close up. For some reason, pinpointing your focus on one little thing will refocus the dream.

finally,

READ UP!!

Honestly the more you read about lucid dreaming, the more likely you are to have one for yourself..Even by reading this you’re more likely to have one. It’s weird, but it works. When I would regularly read books on the topic they’d say the same thing and it was true. It’s kind of like, the fact that you’re aware that it can happen makes it likely to happen..

SO YEAH, before you go to sleep or when you wake up at 4 in the morning, google it, see what others have to say. Get your brain in gear for it. there’s lots of posts online that will probably talk about the same stuff that I have here but this is my legit personal experience with it and stuff over the years.

IN SHORT

  • DO YOUR DREAM CUES/REALITY CHECKS
  • WRITE DOWN YOUR DREAMS
  • SET YOUR ALARM FOR A REALLY DUMB TIME!!
  • HAPPY DREAMING

you can’t deny that a woman’s sexual history with men is considered first and foremost when discussing her lesbianism. Sally Ride? Can’t be a lesbian, she married a man. Eleanor Roosevelt? Can’t be a lesbian, she married a man. Every historical lesbian, all the way back to Sappho, has to have her lesbianism questioned, critiqued, and ultimately denied, all because they had, at one point, interacted sexually with men.

Personally, I consider this an especially cruel form of homophobia. Not only were these women denied the right to be lesbians while they lived, but they can’t even be recognized as lesbians in death.

And to top it all off, they are so often denied to be lesbians on the basis of ‘bi erasure.’ You can’t say Sally Ride was a lesbian because she was married to a man so that’s bi erasure. It’s a kind of homophobia that’s masked under the cover of LGBT activism and representation, when in reality it’s not just erasing lesbians, it’s replacing them with ‘better’ versions of themselves: lesbians attracted to men.

I’m not saying bi women don’t exist, or don’t get to take pride in the women who have represented them throughout history. But you don’t get liberal brownie points for coming after lesbians and co-opting history that doesn’t belong to you. Stop being homophobic to make yourselves feel better about being marginalized. It’s rude, it’s cruel, and it’s useless. Take pride in the women and history that is actually yours.

Drunken Confession

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader (Y/N Y/L/N)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k-ish

Summary: The Reader confesses to Dean. 

Warnings: None really. Just a bit of fluff :) 

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my entry for  @winchester-writes Rose’s Birthday Drinking Challenge!! My prompt: Republic Tequila - “Y'know know, they’re all ‘Well…you gotta drink too.” it’ll be bolded in the fic. I hope you guys like it!!!



Drunken Confession

I’m not that much of a drinker.

Usually, it was Sam and I that had to drag Dean’s drunken ass back to the Impala after he made a complete idiot out of himself in front of the bar’s waitress.

It was never me.

But tonight was different. Especially when the feelings you’ve been harboring deep inside your core for the green eyed Winchester were finally reaching maximum overload.

Keep reading

Call Boy II (Taeyong x Reader x Yuta)

HELLO MY FELLOW THIRSTY HOES!!!!!! I AM FINALLY BACK WITH THE LONG AWAITED SEQUAL TO THE THRILLING FIRST INSTALLMENT OF CALL BOY AKA THE DEMISE OF EVERYONE’S OVARIES!!! LMAO For reals though, I’m so excited to share this with all of you because ya’ll have been sO SUPPORTIVE OF ME AND SHITTY WRITING?????? Special thanks to my NCT writers league babes for bouncing ideas with me!!! I love you all so much! ENJOYYYYYYYY!!!!!

P.S. yUTA LITERALLY BLINDS ME WITH HIS FUCKIN SMILE AND TAEYONG COULD HAVE MY CHILDREN LMAO

P.S.S. And yes, I am still the same blog that posted the original Call Boy smut!! I was @chokemewithjaehyunschoker!

Part I

Originally posted by iloveyuta

Life was different now. 


Every morning you woke up, you couldn’t help but feel amazed, was this truly your reality? How did it all possibly work out? It was too good to be true. You’d thought there would be rough patches, jealousy, lust, secrets…but no. It was all laid out on the table, worn on sleeves for all to see.
At least, for the three of you to see.

Not a single soul other than yourselves knew of your tristes, your arrangement. Sometimes you had to sit and think about who people were to you, how your heart felt. You had a boy with whom you were in love with, mind, body, and soul. But then, there was him.

The man which you craved constantly, pleased you, and who you only were attracted to sexually.

You loved Taeyong, he was your perfect boyfriend, your everything. He treated you lovingly, showering all his affection on you, gave his entire self to you, and he pleased you bodily. With Taeyong, sex was a spiritual experience. You swore every time you made love with him, you entered a higher state of bliss, something you didn’t experience with him.

Yuta gave you everything Taeyong wasn’t comfortable with. You simply had to ask Yuta what you wanted and he would deliver, every time. He never failed to make you feel beautiful and adored, his desire for you and yours for him was from some other world. Sex with Yuta was all pleasure, feelings were forbidden.

Sometimes it was so hard not to feel something though.

While Taeyong was fine with you taking, what he called, “lessons” from Yuta, you and him decided on some ground rules. You appreciated how Taeyong put your happiness and safety first, allowing you freedom, but not so much liberty that he would grow worried.

Yuta was forbidden from videoing or photographing you during your intimate times together, you had stated this early on, not wanting to end up on some porn sight, or where friends and family could see you. No one but the three of you were aware of your special situation, and you were keen on keeping it that way.

You weren’t allowed to spend the night with Yuta, unless some emergency called for it, but you’re not sure why you would have to anyway, you’d find a way back to Taeyong even if it killed you.

An obvious rule, but Yuta had to always use protection, Taeyong was the only man allowed the privilege of coming inside of you. You certainly didn’t want any little ones running around that weren’t Taeyong’s, that would be messy for sure.

The final and most thoughtful rule that you and Taeyong had contrived was that only you and him were allowed to have sex in your shared bed. To you, your bed was a sacred place where you and Taeyong not only slept, but shared your most intimate of times, both physically and mentally. So many loving confessions and beautiful moments had taken place there, you wanted them to remain between where you and Taeyong slept side by side. Your bed was the place where Taeyong could call you completely his and where he was yours. No person, no matter how irresistible, could tarnish the sacred space that was your bed.

But still, Yuta was difficult.

As you slid out of the sheets quietly, careful to not disturb Taeyong’s sleeping form, you thought of how Yuta made you feel. Honestly, you had no idea what to think of him. He was a friend, that’s for certain. He was a means for your pleasure too, an added bonus. As you brushed your teeth, you painted the call boy’s handsome features in your mind, tracing his lips and thinking of that bright smile. For all of his sexual prowess, Yuta was still a sweetheart, something you learned rather quickly when you began to see him regularly. You still couldn’t believe though that Taeyong was absolutely fine with you seeing Yuta almost once a week. He put so much faith into you that you felt a certain responsibility, almost like he trusted you too much.

Today was a Yuta day, or so you called it in your head. You walked back into the room and slipped into some nicer lingerie, knowing which was Yuta’s favorite. A pale pink mesh and embroidered set that complimented your smooth skin and left little to the imagination. You slid normal clothes over that, a simple pair of jeans and a warm sweater to help fight off the cold of the winter day.

You padded over lightly to your sleeping boyfriend, brushing the hair from his eyes as you smiled at how cute he looked. He blinked sleepily, a bit confused before he smiled, pulling you down into a kiss. You moved your lips against his lovingly, savoring the taste of his mouth that you were practically addicted to. There was no one who you’d rather kiss than Taeyong, his lips sinful, soft, and perfect. His hands reached up to pull you onto him, not breaking the kiss as he slid his hands over your ass and gave it a squeeze. You giggled against his lips, making him pull away and give you another endearing smile. His morning voice almost made you squeal as he mumbled, “Off already?”


You nodded, running a finger down the bridge of his nose, “Mhm, I thought I’d go early so we could have the rest of the day to ourselves…maybe dress fancy and get some dinner?”

Taeyong’s hands on your ass were rather distracting as you tried to pay attention to his words. He smiled innocently, but his hands said otherwise as they slid into your back pockets, “Sounds good to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, but you bit your lip to hide your smile, “Okay, I’m off then.” He gave your ass one more satisfying smack that left a delicious sting even through your jeans, “Get going then, baby girl. And hurry back.”

You slid off of him, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you headed out the door. You grabbed your coat, and hurried to the train station, anticipation welling up in you as you still felt the sting of Taeyong’s slap on your ass.
~
Yuta lived in a gorgeous apartment one of his wealthier patrons paid for. He never disclosed their name, but obviously they had to be some celebrity or important figure to afford a place like this. He’d recently grown popular, and his prowess became known to higher people, now he was one of the most expensive in the city. It was sleek and modern, dare you say, sexy even. Yuta had embellished the house in his own personal style, each room so him it hurt. After riding an elevator up and up into what seemed like the clouds, you reached Yuta’s floor in the apartment building, an entire floor just for him…and whatever client he was pleasing at the time.

Today it was you, but you were special in your own way. Different because you didn’t pay a dime and was personally invited by the exclusive callboy himself. You didn’t like to admit it, but you always would flush with satisfaction at the thought of this. To know you were more special than even his most well paying clients made you happier than you cared to say.

You pressed the shiny doorbell, able to see your warped reflection in the polished metal. You heard a neat ding sound from within and a pair of footsteps walking eagerly over to the door. You were greeted by an cutely breathless Yuta who looked you over with hungry eyes, “______, nice to see you again, baby girl.”

Your ears rung with the same pet name that Taeyong left you with, you chest feeling odd as you stepped in through the door. You smiled at the callboy, allowing him to take your coat and hang it next to the door, where his own chic coats were located. He looked so beautiful doing such a simple task, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to reveal his tan forearms. He knew how much you liked it, never failing to be as visually pleasing to you as possible.

He gave you one of his winning and brillant smiles, walking over to a breakfast bar in the kitchen, “I was just making coffee, care for some?”

You nodded eagerly, trying to calm your nerves that you always got coming over, “Yes, please.” This was a new routine of his that he had started recently, inviting you to do something mundane and normal before taking you to his lustrous bedroom. It had confused you at first, but you didn’t think much of it, merely seeing it as him trying to be more of a friend to you, rather than a fuck buddy. You appreciated it, liking this opportunity to know more about who Yuta was and find out his personality.

He brushed his soft brown hair from his face, pouring coffee into two oddly cute mugs and fixing it up how he knew you liked it. He pressed the mug into your hand and leaned a hip against the counter, looking so effortlessly gorgeous, “Rather early for us isn’t it?”

You blushed, never able to adjust to how casual he was about your tristes, “O-oh, yeah. I just had some things I wanted to do later.” You tried not to mention Taeyong around him, only because it felt strange and awkward.

Practically reading your mind, he pressed casually, “With Tae?” His face remained composed, not giving away what his voice did: jealousy.

You nodded not noticing his tone, sipping your coffee nervously, “Yeah, we haven’t gone out for dinner in a while, so it thought it would be nice.”

Yuta set down his mug, having drained his coffee, “Well that sounds nice, I hope you have fun. Now,” his demeanor completely changed, slipping into something a bit more mischievous and dangerous. “Why don’t you tell me a little about what your wearing? I’m a bit curious you see.”

Your face flushed, your own attitude morphing into one more playful and coy, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would,” he countered, pressing both hand onto the countertop in such a dominant way that it made your womanhood ache.

You set down your own mug, trying to remain composed and still unable to detect the apparent jealousy in Yuta’s accented voice, “One of your favorites.”

“Oh?,” he settled back down again, not bristling as much as before. “I’d like a peek.” He smirked leaning against the counter, knowing fully well that you couldn’t stand it when he acted cocky.

Two could play at that game though, you weren’t as quick to give in as before. You’d learned over time how Yuta acted, his mannerisms and tactics, how he got the girl every time. You put your hands behind your back, playfully sauntering away towards where his lux bedroom was, “Why don’t you come find out?”

You didn’t give him time to reply, smiling to yourself as you walked off to his bedroom. He shook his head, mirroring your expression as he allowed you some distance to walk into his room before he followed. How he loved when you teased him back, so much different than the first time he’d fucked you.

Inside Yuta’s naturally lit bedroom, you went to work shedding your clothes and leaving yourself like a little pink present on his silky bed. You adjusted your lingerie, securing the cute dainty bows that kept your bra in place and fixing your panties so Yuta had a view of some cheek. Sprawled out on his bed, Yuta walked in, his gate sauntering and confident.

He licked his lips, seeing you look so eager for him, “I love how you’re so needy, ready to have my cock inside your pretty little pussy.”

It was like a switch, the moment Yuta walked into his bedroom, all semblance of sweetness was gone. Lust and dominance were the only thing running through his mind as he lazily undid the belt on his jeans. Your lids were heavy with want as you murmured, “You know me too well…”

Your voice trailed off as he reached you, threading his fingers through your hair surprisingly gently before yanking it back roughly. He smirked, crawling onto the bed and running his lips over the skin of your throat, “That I certainly do,” he pressed open mouth kisses to your jaw.

“I know what you like,” he whispered, hand releasing your hair to grab your ass and dragging your body to straddle his lap.

“Where you like to be touched,” the call boy smoothed his warm hands over your thighs, squeezing your supple skin. You gasped at the sensitive feeling that raced over your body.

“What turns you on,” Yuta purred as he began to grind to the music he had playing softly in the background of his room. The roughness of his jeans rubbed you so well you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your parted lips. He let his mouth brush against yours, but didn’t kiss you, just letting the raw feeling of your lips colliding be felt.

“And how you like to be fucked,” he groaned, jeans far too tight for his liking. He pushed you down into the sheets, making quick work of his shirt and pants before he caged you in underneath his frame.

“Don’t I?,” he asked, panting as he continued to rub your clothed crotches together. “Hm, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you gasped, hands finding purchase in his satin sheets as your chest heaved from the feeling of his hips rocking into yours.

Yuta smirked, stopping his movements and letting his hands slip down your body until he found the waistband of your panties. He slipped the skimpy fabric down your legs, admiring the lingerie as it slid down you thighs, “You’re right, they are my favorite.”

“But, as much as I like seeing them on you, baby girl, I much prefer them on my floor,” he simpered, making the wetness between your legs increase as his fingertips skimmed across your inner thigh.

He granted you relief as he spread your wetness with his fingers, making you throw your head back and arch above the bed. The call boy slid two digits in, dragging them wonderfully in and out like he was born to finger fuck you.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned, looking down to watch his fingers doing their good work and looking up at him through your lashes. “You’re so good, baby.”

He smiled cockily, leaning down to kiss you affectionately before he began to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves, “I know. Who else could make you feel as good as me?”

Through your pleasure drunk reverie, you managed to think of your boyfriend, defending his honor. Your struggled to get the words out, lips quivering, “T-taeyong does.” The call boy’s warm brown eyes grew icy, his gaze sharp and piercing, clearly upset by your mentioning of your boyfriend. His fingers became rougher, his touches suddenly painfully pleasurable, so much so that the breath was knocked out of you.

His words were harsh, but they made you moan from the tone he used, “You know how much I hate it when you mention him, sweetheart. Now,” he growled, “Who is finger fucking you right now?”

Tears of pleasure spilled down your cheeks, bed rocking against the wall from the force he was using. “Yuta is! Fuck…!”

“Not my name, kitten. I’ll ask again,” he smirked, fingers curling inside of you and thumb rubbing deliciously on your clit. “Who is fucking you?”

“Daddy!” You choked out, shame settling in your stomach at what Taeyong would think as you suddenly orgasmed. You thought as your toes curled in pleasure at how betrayed he would be and it would be all your fault. Taeyong was your daddy, but Yuta apparently couldn’t bare the thought of that. You don’t know how it happened, here you were only driven by lust and only cared about pleasure.

“That’s right,” Yuta murmured, fingers fast as he rubbed you to completion, groaning in satisfaction at the sight as he rubbed himself through his grey briefs with his free hand. “Such a good girl.”

Through your half lidded gaze, you saw the precum that almost literally seeped through the fabric of his underwear, tongue dragging across your bottom lip as you thought of how hard he must be. You lifted a shaking hand and pushed his larger one aside, rubbing the outline of dick enough to make him groan and tilt his head back from the feeling.

Everything but Yuta flew from your mind at that moment as you slid his briefs down his hard thighs. It was like you were a completely different person, not like yourself at all. The hand that stroked Yuta’s cock wasn’t yours, but it felt so good to be pleasing him, you couldn’t help the words that slipped past your lips, “Daddy, please let me make you feel good.”

Yuta almost came from the earnest look on your cute face, so ready for him, so needy. He whispered, lips parted, “Suck my cock, princess.”

You were already leaning down to take him into your mouth, unable to process anything but feeling of your tongue smoothing across the tip of his dick. He groaned, hips rocking lightly into your mouth as he grabbed your hair and laid back on the headboard. You took him so well, his member fitting into your mouth perfectly.

You sucked him off, your mouth making sounds so lewd that even Yuta’s ears turned a light pink. You coated his dick with your tongue, focusing on the underside near the tip where you knew he liked it the most. You persisted on that spot, relentlessly pressing your tongue on his sweet spot until he literally had to push you off.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, watching as he took his cock into his own hand and jerked himself off, chasing his release. You watched with a hand immediately rubbing your clit, touching yourself to the same rhythm that Yuta used. You panted, leaning over to connect your lips with Yuta’s as you both pleasures yourself. You took his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit with him as your sucked his wet muscle.

You suddenly gave a high moan, finally coming over your fingers the same time that Yuta’s hand stuttered. His hips bucked into his hand, panting loudly as he squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly came with a long groan. His cum shot onto his toned stomach, long cloudy white stripes that made your mouth salivate as he attempted to prolong his release.

“Holy fuck, baby girl,” he groaned, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he kissed you. The erotic sounds of your wet kisses made your knees weak, cupping his face as you both settled down from your orgasms.

“You made me make such a mess, kitten,” Yuta murmured, eyes still halflidded with lust. “I think you need to clean up.”

You went to go grab your panties, or a towel, to wipe up his release, but he grabbed your wrist, “Lick it off.”

You gave a soft moan at his command, allowing him to sit back so you could straddle his body. Dragging your tongue across his stomach, you licked his cum off, the salty release coating your throat, never able to get used to the taste.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, stroking your hair as his abs flexed from the feeling of your soft tongue running across his body.

Having cleaned him off to his liking, you sat up and licked the corners of your mouth, gazing with satisfaction at his glistening abs. You smiled, feeling like yourself again, a blush rising to your cheeks, “Did I do well?”

Yuta leaned over and pulled you into a chaste kiss, dragging you down with him to curl up in the sheets, “You were perfect.” He gave you one of his dazzling smiles, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you in such an innocent way that you couldn’t believe he was the same person.

You pouted and pulled out of his arms, “I can’t today, Yuta.” He went to protest, but you gave him an earnest look, “I have to go home.” You grabbed your clothes, slipping your jeans on, widening your eyes at him for emphasis, “To Taeyong.”

He sulked childishly, like his favorite toy was being taken away, “I wish you could stay.”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded, already standing in the doorway of his room. “Maybe next time. I need to spend time with Taeyong, okay? I’m worried about him.”

“What do you mean?,” he questioned, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you quizzically.

You bit your lip, avoiding his warm brown gaze, “I think he’s beginning to feel…concerned.” You gestured between the two of you, “With this.”

Yuta’s face was an expressionless mask, a master at hiding his emotions when he was guarded. His voice was quiet, barely a murmur, “So what is this, _____?”

You swallowed, throat feeling dry, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively as you finally met his eyes, “I don’t know.”

“What even am I to you?,” he mumbled, dropping his eyes and clenching his fists.

You couldn’t answer him because you really didn’t know. Sometimes things felt so natural with Yuta, like it did with Taeyong, easy and happy. Why was he so upset? Didn’t he deal with girls all day? Why was he even asking you that question? You were a means to an end for him, right? You turned away from him, throat already right with your tears, unable to explain how you felt or how he was feeling, “S-see you later.”

“See you later,” he echoed, voice so bitter you tasted it in the tears that were now cascading down your cheeks.

You felt broken, like a piece of you had just been detached and thrown into the garbage. As you grabbed your purse and coat, you pressed your face into his own jacket, inhaling his comforting scent. You don’t know why, but you wanted so desperately to turn back and try to fix things.

You didn’t know how to though.

Was it over?

No, you shook your head, walking down the hall to the elevator with uneasy steps. You took a quivering breath, pressing a hand to your mouth as you tried to take in what had just happened.

Get back to Taeyong, you thought, comforting yourself with the imagine of your boyfriend’s comforting arms.

~

Home really wasn’t a place, it was a person, and Taeyong was home. You had calmed down on your train ride home, not wanting Taeyong to know about what had transpired at Yuta’s apartment.

You embraced him the moment you walked through the door, burying your face into his chest. He looked pleasantly surprised, embracing you back warmly, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you murmured into his shirt, closing your eyes and absorbed the feeling of his arms around you. “I just realized how much I missed you.”

Taeyong smiled, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips passionately, “It’s only been a few hours though.” He helped you with your coat, “I thought that we could just stay in tonight. I’ll make some dinner.”

You felt relieved at his suggestion, “That sounds so nice.”

“Good,” he grinned, “because I’ve already started making the food.”

You laughed and followed him to the kitchen, heart feeling a little lighter. Taeyong stood before the stove, mixing the sauce he was making for what appeared to be spaghetti, his back looking so strong and broad.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his back and rocking him gently, “I love you, Taeyong.”

He turned around in you hold, brows furrowing, “What’s gotten into you, sweetheart? Did something happen at Yuta’s place?” He looked suspicious now, subtly inspecting your body for any signs of hurt just in case.

“I’m telling you, nothing happened,” you lied, swallowing the lump in your throat as your boyfriend looked at you critically. If he knew you were lying, he didn’t tell you, instead murmuring a quiet, “Okay.”

Taeyong had known for a while, known that Yuta was beginning to feel something for you. He didn’t say anything though, knowing you were obviously oblivious to the fact the call boy cared for you in a not so friendly way. Taeyong hadn’t called his friend out on it yet, biding his time and waiting to see if Yuta would actually respect the fact that you were his. Apparently not though, he could tell that something had happened and you were now probably aware of Yuta’s feelings for you.

He had a plan though, a risky one. But it might be the only thing that could keep you as his, and not his call boy friend’s.

The rest of the evening went rather smoothly, Taeyong not giving away the fact that he was scheming something. You relaxed easily throughout the night, forgetting Yuta as you lost yourself in your boyfriend. You didn’t even realize that Taeyong already knew, oblivious when he subtly texted a certain someone on his phone while the two of you were snuggling on the couch.

Twenty or so minutes passed and you felt sleepy, suddenly tired from the wear and tear of the day. You craned your head up and kissed Taeyong’s jaw, eliciting a smile from him, “Wanna head to bed, babe?”

“Sure, baby girl,” he smirked, nuzzling into your neck and pressing a kiss there, “Mind if I get my fair share today though?”

You blushed coyly, a mischievous smile on your lips, “Of course, baby.”

You slid off of Taeyong’s lap, allowing him to give you a firm smack on your ass as he sped you off to your room, “Wait for me, naked, on the bed. Understand?” You nodded and pranced off towards your bedroom, suddenly feeling the familiar need for Taeyong’s touch and of his body.

Once you were in your room and he heard the door close, he stood up at once, walking over to the front door of your apartment and opening it quietly.

“Yuta,” Taeyong gave a curt nod, taking in the appearance of the always immaculate call boy.

“Taeyong,” Yuta murmured, almost unable to meet his friends gaze.

“You know why you’re here?,” your boyfriend questioned, raising an eyebrow and allowing him entrance into the apartment. He shut the door silently, hand firm on the door handle.

Yuta looked slightly taken aback by his friend’s bluntness, but bristled with defiance, “Yes.”

Taeyong nodded, as if he respected Yuta’s determination, “Then I shouldn’t have to explain. Let’s just get on with it.”

“May the best man win,” Yuta murmured, his warm brown eyes cold enough to mirror Taeyong’s own icy gaze.

~

You weren’t surprised Taeyong was taking so long, to be honest he probably was cleaning up dinner because he couldn’t bear to leave it out. You smiled to yourself, sitting up in bed and pulling his favorite blanket around you. Inhaling his scent, you thought of how much Taeyong really meant to you, that you could bear being in a world without Yuta.

Maybe.

All those comforting thoughts flew out the door the moment, said call boy walked through your bedroom door. You gave a startled cry, “Yuta?!”

He didn’t say a word, simply crawling onto the bed with the eyes of a lion sizing up his prey. You shuffled back, hitting the head board as you searched for something to defend yourself with. Scrambling eyes met a familiar pair at the door and you sagged in relief, “Tae-”

Yuta interrupted you with his mouth, connecting his lips to yours in what was a familiar dance. You knew the way Yuta kissed up and down, but you weren’t prepared for how roughly he bit your lip and cupped your face. The call boy was a lover, but you’d never seen him treat you this passionately, or this roughly.

You whimpered into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slide in as his hands wandered over your naked body and pull the blanket away. Your eyes sought Taeyong, but your boyfriend was busy undressing himself, allowing you a glimpse of his absolutely gorgeous body. You watched him intently, allowing Yuta to do most of the work as you lusted over the incredible bulge that strained against your boyfriend’s grey briefs. How badly you wanted Taeyong in that moment, you couldn’t say, mainly because Yuta was preoccupying your time with his devilish mouth.

“Oh, Yuta,” you breathed, the boy’s mouth running down your neck and sucking hickeys there, painfully dark bruises blossomed along your neck like some type of erotic flower.

“Hm,” he hummed, savoring the taste of your skin and the amount of solo time Taeyong was allowing him to be with you.

You felt like you were swimming in affection and pleasure, Yuta’s mouth and hands sinful, and his expression to die for. He almost purred when you slid your hands down his chest and caressed the bulge in his pants, whispering your name, “_______.”

Your core ached for Yuta, and so did your heart for some odd reason. But the moment you felt more weight be added to the bed, all thoughts flew form your mind.

Taeyong had a kind of dominance and power that even made other guys intimidated by his prescience and charisma. When something was his, or he was in his own home, this dominance amped up ten notches. And for some reason, when he was in this mood, you would become increasingly more submissive, eager to see what he would do and ready to comply as well.

Yuta could feel power emanating from Taeyong, but remained steadfast. Always the gentleman, he moved aside so that your boyfriend could capture your lips and cage you into his embrace. You let him slide his tongue over your neck, shivering from the feeling, your hips automatically coming up to grind gently against his.

“Baby girl,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded, hands snaking up around his neck as his hand wandered down to tease your now throughly soaked lower lips. You whimpered pitifully, arching into Taeyong so as to feel more of his bare skin against yours, “Please, Daddy.”

He hushed you gently, slipping a finger into your awaiting womanhood and rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves deliciously, “Patience, kitten,” he chided, thrusting a finger in and out of you, “Daddy will make you feel good, don’t worry.”

He added another finger, shooting a secret smirk over to Yuta who was pouting and undressing himself, right now he wasn’t doing so good trying to win you over. He palmed his erection, watching the way Taeyong’s long fingers slid in and out of you so easily. He grew harder as the sound of your whimpers and moans reached his ears, daring to crawl over to you and kiss you lips. Surprisingly Taeyong let him, being the nice guy who actually never finished last, this didn’t worry him too much.

Yuta brushed your hair from your face lovingly, making your heart swell in your passion as he smiled at you, “Does that feel good, princess?” You nodded and he sighed, looking at you wryly, “Too bad you’re going to feel even better when I put my hands on you.”

You quivered from his words, “Kiss me Yuta,” he waited, obviously wanting obedience, “Please!”

He smiled again, coming down to kiss you so beautifully it hurt. Yuta kissed you like the movies, where it seemed just too magical to happen in real life. Well, Yuta made that fantasy a reality and kissed you like two movie stars would embrace in the rain after having been separated for years.

Taeyong watched this with narrowing eyes, continuing to pleasure you as you liked, and feeling your shaky hand rub him through his briefs. It was enough to satiate him for now, but he felt jealousy beginning to bubble up inside of him.

Yuta had taken the liberty of caressing your breasts, giving them hard squeezes in his warm hands, his head leaning down to suck on your peaks. You mewled and arched into his mouth, body going into overdrive as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Taeyong sped up his fingers, thrusting them so hard into you that you rocked back and made the headboard knock against the wall. He dipped his head down and attached his lips to your clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were begging for him to let you come.

“Daddy, please!,” you squirmed, latching onto Yuta’s hair with your hands. “Let me come, let me come, let me come, let-”

You threw your head back in a silent scream, the air leaving your lungs as your orgasm washed over you, body brimming with the heavy feeling of release.

“What a good girl,” Yuta simpered, pressing kisses over your face and neck as you let out ragged breathes while Taeyong prolonged your orgasm.

After what seemed like minutes, Taeyong continued to finger fuck and suck on your clit, the overpowering feeling of overestimulation causing your thighs to twitch. Your voice was shaky and tears plunged down your cheeks, “S-stop, please…enough.” Weak hands attempted to push Taeyong away, but he was strong and gripped your thighs tightly, eager to bring you to a second orgasm by his hands and tongue.

And so you did, body shaking uncontrollably as Taeyong made you come for the second time, the hypnotic taste of your essence on his tongue as he groaned into your womanhood. Yuta moaned at the sight, jerking off his weeping cock until precum leaked down his hands and he ached to be inside of you, feeling the way your walls tightened around him.

The call boy couldn’t help himself as Taeyong pulled away from your center, who licked the corners of his mouth and saw the desperate expression on his friend’s face. He quirked his head, “What’s wrong Yuta,” he said as he pulled his briefs off and positioned himself at your entrance as he flipped you over. “Giving up?”

Yuta gritted his teeth, looking at the way your eyes silently pleaded for him to stay, to keep going. You didn’t say it, but he knew you thought of it.

You didn’t want just one man in your life, you loved two.

“Yuta,” you whimpered, reaching out a hand to grasp his slick cock, “Please.”

His hands trembled, looking up at Taeyong with fire, “Never.”

With that, Taeyong slid inside of you, eliciting one of the most disgustingly satisfied sounds from you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your jaw dropped, giving Yuta the opportunity to carefully insert his member into your mouth. You gagged at first, tears pricking at your eyes as you relaxed your throat and let Yuta slide his cock in deep.

You hummed around him, and everytime Taeyong rocked into you, Yuta slid further down your throat. It felt like you’d never been in a more erotic situation and you felt like an absolute slut, but you couldn’t help the way you felt.

Yuta spoke your thoughts, “See Taeyong? ______ is a slut who is so selfish she can’t have just one man to herself.”

Taeyong let out a small grunt from the amount of power he was putting into his thrusts, head tilting back in ecstasy as he replied, “I knew it all along.” He brought a hand down onto your ass so that it jiggled before his eyes, “I say she should get just what she asked for, what do you think?”

Yuta smirked, grabbing your head with both hands so he could control how deep you took him, “She deserves that and more.” Something changed between the two of them, instead of two opposing forces, they were one against you.

Your chin dribbled with spit, Yuta showing no mercy as he fucked your mouth, letting out ragged moans whenever your teeth would graze his length. You didn’t understand what they meant at all, had you been tricked? You didn’t have much time to think, your body getting pummeled from both sides as you were stretched wide by Taeyong and deep throated Yuta. You felt so incredibly dirty, but it felt oh so good.

Taeyong reached around your hips, rubbing your clit so as to drive you toward your third release of the night, knowing your body was close to its breaking point. The lewd sounds of your wet choking and skin slapping against skin filled the air, causing your legs to tremble as they attempted to keep you up.

You felt so, so close.

Yuta could tell, urging your on with his words as he drew close as well, “Is that good princess? You like choking on my cock and getting your tight little pussy stretched by Taeyong’s too? Do you like getting fucked like this?”

You let out a stifled wail around his member as you came for the third time, the vibrations causing Yuta to release into your mouth with a loud groan as well. Taeyong sped up until he was practically fucking you at an animalistic pace, his hips snapping into a stuttering halt as he came inside of your dripping center, groaning, “Fuck, baby girl.”

You breathed hard through your nose as you Yuta pulled his member from your mouth, feeling as Taeyong kissed down your spine before pulling out gingerly too. His cum dripped down your legs, and Yuta, still eager to please you licked it all right up until he came to your sensitive center. He sucked lazily on you and lapped at your folds like a kitten while Taeyong massaged your tense body and kissed you passionately. Your mind felt absolutely fuzzed out, body alight with pleasure and only able to process your mouth moving against Taeyong’s and your hips shifting softly into Yuta’s mouth as he tasted you.

It felt like hours before you found yourself tucked between the two of them, dazed and confused. You looked at the both of them, who sandwiched you and let their fingers trail down your body languidly, “Why?”

“Why what?,” Taeyong echoed, arching a dark brow and allowing one of your hands to comb through his jet black hair. “Is there something wrong?”

“Weren’t you mad at Yuta?,” you murmured, reaching for the call boy’s hand instinctively, to which he squeezed back reassuringly.

Said call boy smiled at you gently, the afterglow of sex making him look like a god, “We had a talk. I admit that I did cross the line and let my feelings get in the way a few times, but I can’t help the way I feel.” He kissed your temple softly, “The way I feel about you, _____.”

Taeyong wore a lazy smile at seeing your confused expression, “So the truth finally comes out.” You looked completely shocked, so he traced your Cupid’s bow with his finger, “_______, if you’re open to it. Yuta and I are willing to try something else, a different kind of relationship.”

Your heart leaped at just the thought, thinking you’d finally be able to be happily with both the men you loved, but stuttered in hesitation, “B-but what about family, Taeyong? Marriage?”

Yuta spoke up, “We decided that Taeyong should be the ‘official boyfriend’ and perhaps one day, even your husband. He knew you first and best after all.”

“And you’re okay with this Yuta?,” you asked, resting a hand on his cheek.

He held your hand against his face, kissing your palm sweetly, “I think I am. As long as I can be with you I’ll be perfectly happy.”

“So,” Taeyong nudged you, grabbing back your attention. “Are you willing to try?”

You nodded, pulling the both of them into an embrace as you kissed their heads and felt completely at peace. You knew last time you felt like this was when you first slept with Yuta and Taeyong together, but it felt different now. You felt more sure, even more content, and knew that everything truly was going to work out this time.

So you drifted off, Taeyong nuzzled into neck and Yuta curling up into your side. Interlacing your fingers with theirs and waking up in the same position in the morning, the dawn breaking on your new life. A life even more different than before.

But you could just feel it.

Everything was going to be okay.

9

BTS Collage / Moodboard

{BTS Alice In Wonderland AU}

Cheshire Cat! V

The Cheshire Cat has a permanent smile on his face and can disappear at will. He is a very odd being able to reshape his body to either amuse or frighten his visitors. Like all members of Wonderland, he is mad, but unlike the others, he admits it with pride.

“I’m not crazy, my reality is just different than yours”

Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Rap Monster / Jimin / Jungkook

- Admin Kath

I always hoped I would have your company on nights like these, but not like this, not as a ghost that frequents the inside of my head. I had totally different plans for my 2ams, ones that didn’t involve the usual staring contest with my ceiling that I never seemed to win. You were with me, not as a figment of my imagination but a tangible part of my reality. Sometimes your body would be entangled with mine as sleep took you to lands you never knew existed. Other times, our mouths and minds would lose their filters and we would discuss what we knew of the world and what we wished to learn, questions abounding with a desire for more than shameful shallowness. Things obviously haven’t gone the way I wanted them to. I don’t know what you’re up to. You’re probably giving your 2ams to some other person. Whoever they are, I hope they treat you well. I hope they love you more than I ever could. As for me, well, I’m still trying my hand at the staring contests. Even though it hurts at times like this, I’m gonna try to keep myself open. Not in hopes that you return, but in hopes that someday I’ll have someone to share my nights with that will call this heart home.
Think About It

Request: Angsty Newt Scamander with a fluffy ending

I hope you enjoy!

     “What was I supposed to do? She was just being polite, it would’ve been rude if I hadn’t accepted. I don’t understand why it bothers you so much.” Newt harshly stated, his back turned towards you as he busied himself at his desk.

     “Oh really?” your voice was harsh to match the bitter emotions clawing in your chest, “You do this frequently, but you don’t even realise it. The way you lead me on only to- to-”

     The auburn haired man cut you off, “I have no idea what you mean by ‘leading you on’, I don’t see you as anything other than my colleague, my assistant,’” he paused, “My friend. I’m sorry if you saw it as otherwise.” His voice softened marginally as he spoke those words that stung, but they were true, weren’t they? The past few months of companionship meant something entirely different to him. As he turned his head to finally look at you, the reality of your situation came crashing around you. He didn’t love you. It was all in your head, you over thought it. He didn’t as much as fancy you. You were merely his companion because you shared his passion for magical creatures. The most you were to him was a friend, but now you were beginning to believe that you had ruined that. Without a sound, without sparing him another glance, you grabbed your bag in haste before immediately apparating away. Leaving Newt alone again in his fantastic case of beasts, but no one to share it with. Not anymore.


    Desolate. That’s how Newt would describe the 26 hours that passed without you. He had assumed that you be back in the morning after having time to cool off, but you didn’t come back. The morning became midday, but still nothing. His thoughts were plagued by you. Everything about you. He thought back to the night before, the final words passed between the two of you. You didn’t know how your words struck him. How he began to think back on every single interaction between the two of you that he could remember. How he thought back on everything you had done for him within your eleven months of travelling together, asking for nothing in return but the experience. You didn’t see him as he threw his peacock coloured coat across the shack in frustration and roughly yanked off his bow tie. You didn’t see him as he held his head in his hands, nimble fingers threaded in auburn curls. You weren’t there because he didn’t even try to talk it out with you. You were hurting and he caused it, Newt, the last person you thought would ever hurt you. But he did.

     He had no idea how long he had been a prisoner to his mind, only thinking about you and the things you said, what he said. Newt went about his tasks of tending his creatures, but it wasn’t the same without you there, they all knew it too. The ache in his heart wasn’t fading, Newt couldn’t handle it though. He reached for a bottle of firewhiskey, and in desperation, the magizooligist began the task of drowning his sorrows, hoping to find solace at the bottom of a bottle. Even when he was beginning to feel the haze of alcohol, the pain didn’t go away. In fact, it had intensified to the point Newt cut himself off from the liquor. What was the point if it wasn’t even helping him like he thought it would.

     There were pictures of the two of you lining the once plain wooden walls. They were cherished memories, happy moments that were taunting his current state. He didn’t know what he was feeling anymore, but it was hurting him beyond words. Was this how you felt right now? No, he thought, you probably felt worse. And it was his fault. Thoughts of you danced through his mind like smoke as he stared at the moving photos on the wall. How you made him feel. You made him feel accepted, wanted. Like his place in life was with you. You made him feel worried and anxious, yet you made him feel happy and carefree. You made him feel loved.

     A light went off in his head like a bolt of lighting, he could’ve sworn his heart stopped momentarily. He really did love you, he was in love with you. He had to find you before it was too late.

     Stumbling to his feet, he looked at the clock above his desk. 12:54am. He knew of only a few  places you could’ve possibly been. He climbed out of his case to the outside world- a riverbank under a bridge. Case in hand, Newt apparated away.

     He appeared near cliff, even in the dark, the view was as beautiful as he remembered it the first time he saw it with you. The deep sky heavily dusted with stars, the sea crashing against rocks, the ever familiar figure of his love illuminated by the waxing moon’s light. He could hear the light sobs of a broken heart from where he stood. He’s the one who broke it. Newt wasted not a moment more and within a few long strides he was sitting next to you.

     “I was wrong…” You heard his soft voice cut through the night. “I-I didn’t realise it sooner, what I felt for you was more than platonic. I hurt you because I was too daft to notice it, but now it’s too late isn’t it?”

     You didn’t say anything, you just watched the aggressive waves below crash repeatedly.

     “I’m not just spewing empty words in simple hope that you’ll come back, I need you,” he gently turned you to face him with his calloused hands, “I desperately need you, not as a apprentice, more than a companion, but as someone to love. I realise now that I love you- I do, but I need you to let me prove it.” You wouldn’t meet his beautiful eyes, but if you had, you would’ve seen the glistening tears that had yet to spill. “I know that I messed up, I messed up beyond all recognition, but no matter how long it takes, I’ll still try for you.” He gently dropped his hands onto his lap, you didn’t respond, hell, you didn’t even react.

     Once your head was released from his grasp, you brought your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. The silence that followed was deafening, the atmosphere around the two was filled with longing and pain. You had yet to speak. It wasn’t that you no longer loved him, by no means was that the case. You wanted nothing more than to latch on to him in a tender embrace, but you felt wounded, the situation you had been in had shattered you. You poured your heart out to him, all of your bottled up emotions had been spilled out before you, before him. He broke your heart in a moment, but the affects were lasting. He seemed so sincere now, were you ready to put your heart out to him so soon after what he had done? The gentle man beside you was the same as the one from the other day, but also someone new entirely.

     “Newt…” your voice was cracked and raw, hushed and unsure, yet it cut through the night like a bullet. His breath hitched, his heart was in his throat. “One chance. Just the one…”

Almost immediately after the words left your lips, you were pulled into his warm chest, a stark contrast to the freezing night.

     “I need you with me, as desperate as it sounds.” His words were muffled as he spoke into the top of your head, but your heart still fluttered as if he was yelling it for all of the world to hear. “I love you.”

anonymous asked:

Could you explain the difference between Magical Realism and Urban Fantasy? Like, I always thought that Harry Potter counted as magical realism because it was magic tied into the real world, but I'm thinking I've misunderstood what Magical Realism as a genre (and a mode) is.

I would love to. Magical realism is not actually when magic stuff happens in a realistic world. This is a common misconception that frankly often happens in the publishing and reviewing world as well. Magical realism can be really confusing as it’s a sort of meta-genre, not really a genre but popping up everywhere in a bunch of different kinds of books, so if you need any clarifications or further explanation, feel free to hit up my inbox again! I can answer questions about magical realism all day.

Magical realism is more of a mode than a genre when explained outside of the specific context of Latin-American Magical Realism, so I’m going to explain the mode. It’s hard to explain, but basically it means that your sense of the reality of the book is being messed with. For example: At one point in Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude there is a scene where Remedios, a character who is otherworldly in her beauty and wisdom, is holding onto a white sheet in the yard. The wind catches it, and she flies into the sky and never comes back. There is a moment, as a reader, where you say, ‘Wait. Did that really happen in the world of this book?’ The book doesn’t tell you. It’s possible that this was a metaphor for her being carried off to heaven. It’s also possible that the text means Remedios literally flew away into the sky because she was so light that the sheet could carry her. The text doesn’t clarify, however, and the world of the novel doesn’t have a baseline of magic with which you can ground this event. You are left not knowing whether, within the world of the novel, what just happened actually happened or not. That is magical realism. 

Harry Potter is a straight-up fantasy novel—perhaps urban fantasy—because we know there’s magic in the world. Even when something unexpected happens, it is explained by the logic of the world of the series. But like I said, magical realism outside of Latin America is used as a mode rather than as a whole genre. Magical realism can appear in fantasy and sci fi and all other genres, frankly, too. It’s born from that moment in which you—or a character, if the text doesn’t confirm for the reader—go, ‘Wait, I don’t understand, did that actually happen? Or no?’ ‘Was that real? Or no?’ ‘Was that a dream? Or was it real?’ ‘Was that in my mind? Or real?’ Even if it’s resolved later in the text, that moment is a moment of magical realism. I would argue that Harry Potter has one moment of magical realism: the moment when he sees Dumbledore in the possibly-afterlife. When he leaves, he asks Dumbledore whether this was real. And Dumbledore says, “Of course it is happening in your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?” We don’t know whether that was literally a train to wizard heaven or whether it was Harry’s fever-dream while passed out as the horcrux died. We literally don’t know, and we have no wizarding world logic to ground that event for us. And so, that moment is magical realism. 

garnettfox  asked:

I'm starting to think your from an alternate universe and all your problems is either because your allergic to our reality, or our reality is allergic to you and it's immune system is going apeshit trying to expel you....

Little simpler than that I’m afraid. I’m from another country where the pollen is different and certain pesticides and food processing methods are illegal.

I’ve always had the weird health shit going on, moving to America just resulted in the fallout happening in my late 20s to 30s rather than my 40s and 50s like it did my parents.

Although I suppose you could then say some of the weird shit happening to me is the result of being an alien :)

habababa  asked:

"Is that my shirt?" Beacuse I know it's going to be awesome 😎

Thanks for the prompt! I hope you like what I came up with 💕

Every time I think I’m done with Deathly Hallows/Shell Cottage missing moments, something sucks me back in…

***

Is That My Shirt?


She’d been in the bathroom for a while. Too long, really, for Ron’s taste, not that he had any right to have any sort of opinion about anything she did. He was content to wait, anyway, just to make sure she was okay - Fleur had offered to help her take a bath but Hermione, ever modest and nothing if not independent, had declined. And so Ron was waiting, patiently for once, just so he could lay eyes on her again and remind himself that she was alive, and she was okay, and even if he’d felt completely useless down there in that cellar, in the end he had been able to at least do something to ensure her safety.

He’d have been willing to help her take the bath too, of course, but seeing as he was just grateful she was on friendly terms with him again… he’d thought he’d better not suggest it, not even in jest.

Sliding down the wall opposite the bathroom door, he rested his forearms on his knees and twirled Wormtail’s wand, which felt dirty and tainted, between his fingers. The rushing of water through pipes had abated long ago, and now all he heard was the occasional light splashing sound. Desperately, attempting to be a gentleman, he tried not to picture what was going on behind that door. He was sitting here because she was his best friend and she’d nearly just died and he wanted to be there for her in whatever way he could. This was no time to be picturing soap bubbles on her skin-

“Hi,” said a small voice from across the hall. Hermione stood before him, her bare feet sinking into the well-worn carpet, once again wearing the dressing gown that Fleur lent to her. Her hair, still damp, hung in thick, heavy ringlets on her shoulders.

“Hey,” Ron replied, scrambling to his feet. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” she said firmly back, though a weak smile played on her lips. “You didn’t have to wait for me, I’m all right.”

“Well, I just-” And then he noticed it, the small swatch of orange cotton covering her collarbone, peeking out between the crimson satin of the gown. “Is that my shirt?”

“Oh - well…” Hermione’s face flushed, blotches of pink staining her cheeks. “Yes.”

“You’re wearing a Cannons shirt?” Ron asked before he could help himself, his eyes shining as he gazed at her.

“Yes,” Hermione admitted, shy and sheepish. Her fingers, still bearing scrapes and bruises from the recent ordeal, shifted the gown away to reveal two interlocking black Cs on the front of the shirt. “It’s just - it was the first clean thing I could find in my bag and - and I can change if you want, it’s just really soft and-”

“No, no, don’t,” he rushed to tell her. “Keep it if you want, it’s yours, it’s fine.”

Her teeth sank into the inside of her lower lip as they regarded each other. Ron felt he might implode at any moment. She was wearing his clothes for Merlin’s sake, like they were a real couple, like they’d woken up together on a weekend morning and were about to fix breakfast. Of course, the reality they were living was horribly different than the silly little fantasy he had just invented… but maybe someday, if this war ever ended, they could have it.

“Okay,” she relented, that little grin still on her lips as she hitched the dressing gown back into place. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Ron gave her a smile of his own. “Anything for you.”

***

you can find more four word prompts here!

Past Tense, Future Perfect

I once foolishly got carried
Away, picturing a future
With someone I had no business
Being with in the first place–
My mind has a tendency to
Get ahead of itself like that,
With just the most meager,
Insignificant of sparks
Making me imagine impassioned infernos.
At first I idealistically saw us
Being warm and cozy, sharing
Tender moments worth remembering…
But when reality finally took hold,
I didn’t need a crystal ball
To show me how it would be:
Tense battles; casually tossed
Insults; me forcing laughter for crap
That’s not the least bit funny,
All to placate a hair-trigger temper;
Tentatively reaching out
For the slightest scraps of affection,
Only to come up empty-handed
And made to feel demanding.

But you, you are a different story,
A bright spot on my horizon
That only gets brighter
The longer I know you.
I try not to get lost
In fantasy with you, after the past
Taught me they seldom come true.
But you are better than anything
I could dream up,
And I know my future
Is safe in your gentle hands
Because in your eyes, I
Am adored and treated as an equal.
We are in this together…
And nothing could be better.

Forever | 1: The Beginning of the End

Summary: You and Sebastian Stan became best friends years ago, on the set of the first Captain America movie, and you couldn’t be happier that you had found someone just as witty and caring as you - but will feelings wiggle their way in and get in between your friendship and happiness?

Word Count: 789

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: (Throughout) Language

Characters (in order of appearance): Reader, Sebastian Stan

A/N: I started writing this in 2015, and it was v popular on wattpad so I thought, why not make it accessible to my pals on tumblr? pls bare with me as I post the next 12 chapters, and please, as always, let me know what you think!! I love hearing from y’all :)

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