#im also now led to believe i can only write in one go or else i LOSE it and never write again

[drdemonprince]

to the anon who sent me the message that took them 4 hours to draft.

I think your experience both with organizing and disability has probably provoked you to rethink the entire concept of "success" as our culture has defined it, even if you feel yourself still longing for some of the comfort and ease that capitalistic success can seemingly provide (or that we are conditioned to believe it can provide). im not sure what to say that can match the effort your put into your message, in fact i am galled by the fact that i know that i can't match that effort. i don't know how to make sense of the fact that a person who is finding it incredibly difficult to remain connected and engaged during this time, due to disability, has decided that i was worth that level of effort when they don't have the energy to message people they know. i don't think i am worth that effort. but i also respect that mired in all that you're mired in, it's a meaningful gesture toward engagement and connection to even bother writing such a message. i just think in a lot of ways i am a misplaced target for it, because i am a ridiculously privileged and publicly exposed individual who receives dozens of heartfelt messages that he doesnt find the time to respond to every single day. i think if anything that i've written rubs you the wrong way you'd be right to approach it with cynicism. because what the fuck do i know, banging around on my laptop every day and getting paid for it. how dare i lecture anybody about not unlearning capitalism adequately enough. i am one of capitalisms little milking cows. a massive publishing company makes a weekly profit off of me, off the byproduct of the worst years of my life and my worst traumas, as well as the meaning i've made from the scholarship of others.

i'm so enraged for you that you got a debilitating case of COVID (after several other cases) on an encampment, and that now the community you foster at that encampment is not there for you. i am disgusted at how more seasoned activists and organizations have regarded student protestors as disposable this entire year, selling them out to the cops, cutting bad deals with campus administration, and sending them to yellow and red risk level actions without adequate communication and getting them kettled and beat, or else nullifying their efforts with mealy-mouthed talk about keeping things peaceful. i see so many toothless, neoliberal protests happening here, ones that serve only as fundraisers for massive nonprofit orgs, and i also see literal teenagers being dragged right into paddy wagons by the likes of the PSL or the RCP while the Dems deride them and dance to Brat tracks, not even pretending to care the way they unconvincingly did in say 2020.

It's all making me terribly cynical, wondering where we are headed and whether i can or should encourage people who are younger, stronger, more energetic, more pliable, and more vulnerable to me to give up all that they've got for a cause when it's likely gonna be chewed up and spit out and not met in effort by anyone else. i am mournful of the fact that even i can't match that effort. every time i get a message from a friend or acquaintance who is going through some new awful traumatizing event i want to just curl up and disappear, because i can't even keep up with sending compassionate messages to all of them, let alone actually showing the fuck up and doing anything for them. and so sometimes i slip into the disaffected, blunted feeling that once led me as a younger man into libertarianism, thinking that all i can or should do is look after my own wellbeing, and fuck everybody else. and obviously that is a horrible path that is not by any means moral and certainly didn't help me anyway. it felt like we were on the brink of a great paradigm shift of some kind, a collapse of these evil systems, and now it feels like all of that is as far away as it's ever been, and that there aren't enough people with class consciousness and care for one another to make it happen.

i don't know. i think we all have to abandon our dreams of success, of comfort, of saving the world, the fantasies of everything being fine. i think we need to look to our immediate surroundings and our communities. i think we need to ask for help a whole hell of a lot more than any of us are doing, and to recognize that that is a form of helping. i think we need to get small. and remember we are weak animals. and stop thinking there is anything special or chosen about us. and to remember that nature can often be very cruel and that there is nothing we are owed. disabled people already know this of course, we know life isn't fair. we try to do what we can and yet we wake up feeling even less capable the next day, and it knows no logic and the universe remains indifferent to it. but there are people around us who can care, when we ask them to. and ways that we can just be there alongside one another in the muck of it all. not even necessarily making things better. certainly not being a savior and making the pain go away. maybe just sitting in the muck together.

all of which is to say, i am feeling stuck and overwhelmed and useless myself, anon, and i dont have any more answers than you. but thanks for messaging. im sorry people have taking advantage of you. including in my opinion lots of other activists. looking after yourself and not letting people guilt you doesn't mean turning into a conservative. the kind of anarchy that i am embracing right now is one that goes beyond linear change, beyond making meaning, beyond any idealistic visions of the future, beyond even fighting for some kind of symbolic survival. it's just being. none of it has to mean anything, none of it has to be headed anywhere. it just is. there is plenty for you to be bitter about.

[raeofsunrise]

this is me trying ☆ finnick odair x gn. reader

summary: finnick odair was something you trusted. and there were only two things you trusted. him, and the ocean. but finnick wasn’t like the ocean. he wouldn’t come back after pulling away.

warnings: ANGST, i really dk how i feel about this, reader has self doubt issues, flashbacks, fear of being led on, no comfort, victor finnick, finnick going to the capitol, no use of y/n, anything else that might count as a warning

646 words

~ ・ ☆ ~ ・

he was a fire. a fire that could keep your heart warm. and at first you thought that this could last. of course you were skeptical, he was known as this total womanizer, someone who would lure you in then leave you picking up the pieces of your heart. but you trusted him. he assured you so many times that what you saw on tv wasn’t who he was. and you believed him. whether it was for your own reassurance or his was up to debate.

walking with him made you feel like you did something so amazing in your last lifetime to deserve this. to deserve this person next to you, who swore he loved you so dearly.

—————

you two didn’t really have a backstory. of course, you knew of him. who in their right minds didn’t know who finnick odair was? you just thought he didn’t know who you were. but those lingering stares at the market, or whenever he came up to talk to you at your stall selling this week’s catch, there was always some sort of underlying tone. no malice, or anything like that. just something that your brain couldn’t pinpoint. but your heart certainly could.

“good morning, finnick. what can i do you for today?” you asked. it was like this every morning.

he would say something flirty, like “let’s see…what time are you free for dinner?”

and you would laugh, because he obviously didn’t mean it. and he’d laugh, a laugh that you could recognize anywhere, even if he became a stranger, because you were so in your head that he could see right through you, see everything you were thinking.

until one day, you responded with “eight o’clock?”

and he showed up at your house exactly at eight, flowers in hand and that haunting smile.

—————

you let him in, and he knew he won. maybe it was your fault. you’d been so self-destructive and selfish that you scared him off. you were so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

—————

there was a knock on your door. unusual for this time of night, but you welcomed it. you opened the door, and standing there was finnick.

“finnick? i thought you were in the capitol tonight?” you asked, confused. he left last night, telling you he’d be gone for a couple days. you didn’t mind. you understood that there were, for lack of a better word, duties that came with being victor.

he looked distressed. something you don’t see on his face very often. this combined with his early arrival back to district four made you nervous.

“is something wrong? do you need to come in?”

he gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. “yeah.”

his attitude was off, too. something in you told you that this wasn’t going to end well.

you led him to your couch, where you both sat down.

you started talking, but he cut you off.

“look, i’m gonna make this quick. i don’t think we can be together.”

—————

the conversation didn’t go very far after that. till this day, you pondered what you did wrong. he wouldn’t tell you. and after he ended his relationship with you, he moved onto the next person, and the person after that.

you could tell there was something that he wasn’t telling you. you assumed it was something about yourself, the reason why he isn’t sitting next to you on the sand right now. maybe you’d never find out. the one thing you could do was let go.

and maybe, just maybe, you could find peace.

—————

hii! im back from my disappearance. this is my first time writing angst so please leave feedback!! it’s greatly appreciated. thank you so much for being so kind and understanding and patient. also could you tell i wrote this to this is me trying by taylor swift?

[birdsareblooming]

im so tired of having to defend myself on both sides

like. ok. i'm queer right. bi, demigender, aro, etc. also you know a girl, demi or not. all the time i have to defend myself from american christians who via mistranslations and misinterpretations spread by horrible leaders for generations have been led into a cult-like hierarchy that tells them to hate me when hate for us isn't in their book or supposed to be in their ways.

i'm also "christian". i hesitate to use the full term because of how bad american christianity has gotten. but i believe in the same god nontheless. every day i feel i have to defend myself from queer people as well

like. i so get it. as i have just established american and european christianity has gotten so fucked up and literally off-script that i'm shocked we haven't gotten another 95 thesis and a completely new branch. it's awful horrible and people who believe in such ideas should not be in power. to the point where calling myself a christian feels wrong. at least in america.

i need ya'll to have some nuance.

firstly the understanding that those who hate queer people, non-white people in any form, women, whatever else. isn't even in the text they follow. people have misused it since it was written. preaching just the verse saying wives should care for their husbands and not the one right after saying husbands should love their wives. taking out verses referring to god's "womb." about adam might not even being a man, as in, more likely nonbinary, the verse about david getting an errection when hugging johnathan. changing verses about cleanliness into women and men not wearing the same cloths. changing verses about cultural codes and allowing a world where people have to resort to prositution into verses condemning homosexuality. [X]

like. you know the matrix. was written as a trans metaphor. then a bunch of alpha sigma grindset rich white boys took it and appropriated it, misinterpreted it, used it to boost themselves and hurt women. it's like that. those people don't make the matrix a bad movie, they just don't know it's a trans metaphor. and trans people who enjoy the matrix are like. normal and cool.

as you can see i am passionate about this. i have all this stuff memorized not only to defend my queerness but my christianity as im doing now.

there are queer christians. there are certainly poc christians as right now, south america and south africa have the highest christian populations, to the point where they're sending missionaries to america.

again i'm asking for some nuance. when i see posts basically saying "the christian god is dumb" or "satan was right actually" and blantent misinformation about what the bible says. like those kind of posts hurt my heart. my god made me queer and loves me for it, i believe in a kind god, most good christians do. i feel like other religions don't get this treatment and it's just to spiritually piss off your catholic parents.

speaking of, in doing so you seem to forget about other abrahamic religions.

i once saw a post criticizing something directly from the old testament, out of context of course. saying god was cruel and the belives were flawed and all this due to one verse. people tend to forget, or not know, that the "old testament" is the tenoch. slightly different book order, same writings.

christians, muslims, jewish people, worship the same god. different names for god, some god, same base. if you make jokes about christianty willy-nilly, you're going to accidentally hit someone else. and even if you don't, you may hurt someone still.

it doesn't hurt because i think it's "sacrilegious" or i think you're going to hell. it hurts because my community doesn't care. my community doesn't see the nuance in people and decided a specific religion is the enemy. a specific group of people is the enemy. ive been marked as the enemy

it's casual jokes to you, to me it's making fun of my god

listen, by all means make fun of the assholes. i make fun of them every day. millionaires who use privet jets than preach and love to overlook the many verses condemning the rich and saying rich people don't go to heaven. people saying that as a woman of god you shouldn't enjoy sex. weirdos online and irl that seem to think patorizing random people will get them to church. dumb white people. it's great. fuckn. mormons and jehovah's witness leaders who are straight up running a cult based on a thread of the original intention. and it's funny because they're the assholes.

but don't attack the base religion itself. understand that the religion isn't inherently harmful, certain branches, beliefs, misinterpretations, and leaders certainly are. but please be kind to the people who are normal

before you make a post saying you're gonna. i dont know 'kill the uncaring god' that you're hurting people like me, any abrahamic religion, anyone who believes in a god possibly. also that's basically my parent, it's like you're insulting my awesome mom to my face bc my older sibling sucks. like thats just mean to her for no reason.

i'm just. tired. im stuck in the middle and i hate that i have to make this post because like. this is my home and my people and im tired of seeing this shit from my peers and family. just. have nuance. care about people. don't just say shit about a religion if you don't know its true.

im tired.

[linkspooky]

Spoilers if you still haven't read the new jjk leaks so...

I really cant believe that your prediction of Gojo's battle ending up like Kaneki's beatdown has come full circle...my God even the one where he is lying dead chopped up with no arms and legs is exactly the same.

What are your thoughts on the conclusion of this battle or the whole progression of the story rn,because this really cemented Gege's bad writing at its finest for me.Such a lamest and most underwhelming death granted to one of the most well written character of the series with an offscreen death coupled with his whole afterlife dialogues dickriding Sukuna saying he wouldn't have stood a chance even without sukuna using 10s when the whole battle contradicts this,then Nanami telling Gojo that they always knew Gojo was a battle junkie and didn't care for others,committing a massive character assassination.Just why did Gege had to butcher his character this much?Im so livid right now with the way his death was executed and Gojo's character arc without achieving anything in his life and says he doesn't have any regrets and satisfied? I decided to drop the series because this all left a sour taste in my mouth and knows that there are more ridiculous asspulls to come in the future.But there are some theories going online saying Gojo will come back by rebirth or as a vengeful spirit by going North and correlating to the Lotus flowers in the panels.I still dont believe this will happen since Gege ruined the character for good,but I need to know your predictions on this one too to huff on my tiny amount of copium.

I CALLED IT! *EVERYONE BEGINS HIGH FIVING ME*

Besides the fact that I have proven without a doubt that I can see the future and therefore I can tell everyone with confidence Megumi will live until the end of the manga (this is a joke, or is it?), I have some more to say on the rest of your ask anon.

I'm not going to comment on whether or not I think this is good or bad writing. For me the question is not "is Gojo's death written well?" but rather "What does Gojo's death mean for the story?"

I'll address some parts of your ask and remember I'm not really agreeing or disagreeing with you, just trying to analyze why Gege made the story choices that he did.

with an offscreen death coupled with his whole afterlife dialogues dickriding Sukuna saying he wouldn't have stood a chance even without sukuna using 10s when the whole battle contradicts this

In this case I believe Gege offscreening the death is a pretty classic bait and switch. It happens exactly the same way that Kaneki's fight happens in chapter 143 of Tokyo Ghoul: Re, we as the audience see a build up to a big climactic fight between Kaneki and Juzou two of the most powerful characters in the manga only to literally skip the entire fight and show it's conclusion: Kaneki limbless on the ground.

It inspired a huge controversy back in the old days of the Tokyo Ghoul fandom too, imagine if instead of just skipping the final moment of the fight we skipped the ENTIRE fight between Gojo and Sukuna. Just Nah, I'll Win *Smash Cut to Gojo cut in half* The last chapter also ends with this, declaring Gojo's victory.

My friend Comun said basically after this Gojo was guaranteed to lose because in shonen manga the second a character is entertain that they'll win they have the rug pulled out from underneath them. It's the same reason that when you're making a plan to have a heist in a heist movie you whisper it at first instead of explaining the whole plan ahead of time. If you just explain the whole plan and everything goes according to plan you've spoiled your own story.

In other words the classic bait and switch the audience is led to believe one thing and then slapped in the face with something else. This is just my justification for why I think the ending to the fight is offscreened, the same way it is for Kaneki's fight with Juzou, it's almost parodying battle shonen. Jujutsu Kaisen is a story where characters fight, and Gojo and Sukuna is one of the most hyped up fights in the manga, but the fight is not the most important part the characters are. Fight mechanics are important to the story, but they don't trump everything else so less important to the question of how Gojo lost, or even seeing his loss onscreen is the question of why he lost.

In my opinion the reason Gojo lost is because he was fighting for the wrong reasons, he cared far more about winning a satisfying fight then he did saving Megumi the kid he was responsible for. Gojo is kind of like the audience, he cares more about the battle aspect of shonen manga then the characters, so the author denies both Gojo and the readers their climax.

This is what we call an Anti-Climax.

As a result, the subversion of the climax, the Anticlimax, is probably almost as old. The anticlimax is when you're set up for a climax, such as a spectacular, battle-to-end-all-battles between the hero and the villain. It's built up more and more until the suspense is extremely exciting, and the reader/viewer can't wait for it...then the hero kills the villain in one hit, or the villain spontaneously drops dead [...] Anticlimaxes can work well if it's clear that the subversion of audience expectations is the point, either for humorous purposes [...] or as a more serious commentary on the genre of the work.

It's alright if you're disappointed though because fights are one of the main draws of the series, I'm just explaining the trope that's at work here. As for Gojo saying he wouldn't have stood a chance against Sukuna if he was going all-out I'm not sure precisely that's what he said. He just says he's unsure he would have beaten him even without the ten-shadows, that it would have been close. It's also not completely out of left field that Gojo found Sukuna challenging.

We are told beforehand that Sukuna is holding back a move, because Gojo only has to defeat Sukuna, while Sukuna has to do a boss-rush marathon and beat Gojo and everyone who comes after him. We also receive this piece of foreshadowing, Sukuna saying "Very Good" after Mahoraga succesfully cleaves off Gojo's arm which was likely him learning the technique that he'd use to finish Gojo. He even called Mahoraga his shadow.

Someone else pointed out that Sukuna was also winning the domain battles pretty thoroughly before Sukuna started to use the TenShadows in the fight so I don't think Gojo's statement of how he could have won with his techniques was that out of left field.

If it were not for Sukuna's whim of wanting to use Mahoraga, he would have beaten Satoru and it is even implied that Sukuna allowed himself to be hit so that Mahoraga would adapt to Satoru's infinity. Even in their activation of domains Gojo had to destroy and regenerate his brain five times while Sukuna didn't have this problem, this is because Sukuna didn't lose his domain as many times as Satoru because we must not forget that Sukuna's domain doesn't need barrier like Gojo's so it was easier to destroy Satoru's domain than Sukuna's.

Yet another person also pointed out that Gojo acting completely on top of his game the whole fight and confident in his victory, and yet seemingly contradicting that at the end by saying he might have lost even if Sukuna didn't have the Ten SHadows makes sense if you consider the fact that Gojo was putting on a show for his students. He had to appear absolutely confident he was going to win in front of them to make them feel safe. Whereas, with Geto he's with a peer so he can be more honest about what he thought his chances were.

There's another shift after the opening stage of their fight in chapter 224. What always stuck out to me from that chapter was Gojo noticing that their fight was being broadcasted. After he spots Mei Mei's crows, Gojo never, not once, for the remainder of the fight expresses doubt in himself in any outward way. We see frustration, we see anger, we see surprise, but never doubt. Never worry. And what does he say as soon as he get's the upper hand in the fight?

As for the final part of your post:

Im so livid right now with the way his death was executed and Gojo's character arc without achieving anything in his life and says he doesn't have any regrets and satisfied?

I don't think Gojo said he was satisfied. In fact it's the opposite.

Gojo's unsatisfied because of two reasons, number one he wasn't able to push Sukuna into giving his all, and number two that Geto wasn't among the people who were saying goodbye to him before he went off to fight. I did an entire post, on why I don't think Gojo is satisfied with his death at all.

However, the TLDR: Version, Gojo could have chosen to fight for two things, number one to be the strongest and number two for the sake of his connections to other people. Gojo chooses the first and he fails at that. He's not only no longer the strongest but he couldn't give Sukuna the fight of his life. He's unsatisfied for that reason. He's also unsatisfied because he deliberately gave up all of his personal connections in life, and chose to only focus on being the strongest. Not only did he fail at being the strongest but he also lost Geto and practically everyone else. If he'd have chosen to fight for personal connections instead then maybe things would be different and Geto would still be alive, and he'd be more satisfied because he could have lived a life with genuine connections to other people, but that's not what he chose.

If anything I think it's there to connect him to TOji and the way they died. They both die offscreen and die standing on their feet. In Toji's final moments he thinks he only chose to fight for his personal pride but then Megumi flashes by his mind.

In Gojo's final moments he thinks about how much he regrets that he wasn't able to give Sukuna a true challenge, and then Geto flashes by his mind. He could have chosen to live for something other than pride, the same way Toji could have chosen to live as a father and that possibility flashes before their eyes before their deaths.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Dancer anon advice

Hi all! Someone wrote me about some advice, I'm just copy and pasting it here so I can add a 'read more' line and format it a bit differently than usual so I can keep my thoughts in order!

Italics is their writing

Bold is mine

i noticed ppl were using this blog to ask about stuff, so here goes ig?

(also im sorry this was going to be me asking about gender stuff but now its just kinda my life story 😭 if you dont want to answer this, you can just write a post saying like. dancer anon i dont feel comfortable answering this or whatever)

Ahhhh, you all need to stop apologizing! I never mind helping!

im afab, and i feel like i never really fit in with gender? like, i would always be so jealous of my feminine friends but i didnt feel good when dressing feminine myself

i also take dance classes (i started at around 6/7) and i felt like i had to wear all the skirts and shit because i wanted to be pretty like the other dancers, and i felt really terrible after a few years of that, because i hated how i looked in them and how i looked when i danced

(i also used to have a dance teacher whos hands were always cold and thats all i can remember about him but i really hated dancing with him and would get relieved when classes were over. ive hated dancing with boys/men ever since)

and it got like. really bad. i believe? (my memory is actually terrible. i cant remember anything for the life of me, so it could be my mind overexaggerating, but anyways.)

i would always ask for me and my teacher to just do stretching because i hated how i looked when i danced because i hated the skirts and everything because i hate my legs and how they look when bare. i hated attending dance classes because people would see me and see my legs and see how i looked and i felt terrible all the time (i think i was around 9 or 10 at this age?)

so one day i had a whole crying fit and my dance teacher told me that i dont have to wear skirts or whatever, i can wear pants and shit (i was so fucking relieved. istg. i now wear skirts to dance only like. couple times a year maybe)

and then soon enough covid happened! (also keep in mind that i grew up like. really sheltered. i did not know what gay people/transgender people were until i read fanfiction about warrior cats 😭)

and i was so delighted! because on distance learning, no one would see me and be able to judge me for how i dress or whatever

at around this time, my fear of everyone masculine really grew. its still there. im fucking terrified of all men. i cant help it. like every boy man masculine person. i get so scared. i hate it. i hate it so much

but then covid came to a halt, yk, school started again .-. i felt like shit, honestly. i didnt have ANY clothes i felt comfortable in. my hair felt too long and "feminine" and i wanted to cut it for the longest time. my clothes made me feel terrible. i hated how the leggings would wear on my legs and how my sweaters would show my body shape and how my butt looked (i still really hate how it looks. why is it big. i dont want it to be i hate it so much)

yeah so there i am, feeling dysphoric as shit (i did not know what that was, back then, by the way, but i believe thats what i was feeling)

didnt help that my only friend was a toxic, lying, manipulating bitch who led people on for fun and always expected everyone to worship at her feet

after a while, i discovered different labels! (bisexual was the first label i had for myself. i felt good with it, ig?)

and then i got to the gender situation. i used so many girl alligned terms because i was so scared of being percieved as the very thing i am terrified of (masculine ppl). i went through demigirl, girlflux, genderfae, genderfluid, i beleive, maybe somethign else too, because i wanted to stay connected to being a girl.

Okay so here, I want to ask, what's the reason to wanting to say connected with being a girl? Is it feeling like you are partially a girl? Not wanting to be connected to masculinity? Not wanting to let go of the 'girlhood' that you grew up with? None of these reasons are bad but I think thinking about this more might help you figure out your gender.

around this time i started doing leader steps for dance. the euphoria i felt. please.

ahhhhh wait! I do ballroom, too! I'm a follower, though. what's your favorite? I LOVE tango. Okay, sorry, I got distracted.

found out i was a lesbian, used nonbinary but with she/they pronouns and felt like shit whenever anyone called me she but didnt want to make a big deal about using they

ooo, okay here- asking for your correct pronouns isn't 'making a big deal.' it's asking for what you need and asking for respect.

found out i was aroace because "people actually find video game characters attractive?" 😭

thought i might feel better as a boy? cut my hair. i loved it so much (i still do) (that was may of last year) got baggy clothes. covered up my figure. did leader steps for dance.

over the summer i started using labels such as agender? which i feel like fits me?

anyway, thats the life story part, now for the part about what the fuck am i

i feel like shit whenever im called a girl or refered to with feminine terms. im not sure if it would classify as dysphoria or not, becuase i dont feel /that/ bad about it, but it still ruins my mood and kinda makes me want to cry.

okay so here's the thing. not 'feeling THAT bad' doesn't mean anything. Dysphoria is dysphoria. and this is dysphoria. Just because you're not throwing up in a corner doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid.

if my grandma calles me granddaughter, girl, whatever in russian, it automatically ruins my mood. makes me feel terrible. i hate it.

i dont feel as bad when my sister calls me her sister, though, for some reason.

Okay! So for me, I hate being called a lady, but I don't mind my wife calling me her wife. Again, this is all completely valid <3

when i get called by she/her i hate it so much. i dont want to make a big deal about asking for they/them - sometimes my friends remeber, sometimes they dont.

ive never tried he pronouns, dont think i want to.

they/them pronouns dont give me that much euphoria either, its just like. ok

Okay! Have you tried neopronouns? If you're not interesting in those, it could just be that they/them is what feels best. And that's okay, too!

another thing. my friend has another nonbinary friend. she always genders them correctly, but almost never me. it makes me feel like shit, like she cares more about getting their pronouns than mine, even though i know that thats not a good mindset and shit.

*loud buzzer sound* wrong. Your friend should be gendering everyone correctly, not just some people. Good friends care about making their friends feel comfortable, and this friend is making you uncomfortable. Would you feel comfortable talking to them about it?

also, heres some more on my fear of men because who doesnt love being scared out of their wits irrationally :D

my dance teacher had to leave to go back to where she lives, so they gave me a male teacher (i tend to only have female ones.)

i would be in tears every lesson. i felt like shit. (also i hate the sound of peoples voices and he would always be talking and i hate it so much because his voice, amongst others, is one of the ones that hurts my ears the most.) i even went to my mom to ask her for a change which helped ig? my new teacher is really nice and i love her so,,, yeah

Okay, I want to stop here to say- a lot of this has to do with gender, right? But this particular response seems to be rooted in trauma. Without prying too much, I am wondering if there is something that happened with a man or masculine-presenting person or people? You do NOT have to share with me, but this might be something to explore with a trusted person in your life. I mean, there is a chance it's gender-related, but in the most loving way, there seems to be something deeper going on here.

anyway, you dont have to answer this, i was going to just ask for help with labels and feeling like theres no correct label for me (i use agender now, for simplicity, because i dont feel connected to having a gender at all)

So I guess my question is, how do you feel about the agender label? When I looked up the definition, it seems to be defined as exactly what you described- someone not having a gender at all.

Also, remember that your gender identity and expression are two different things! You can identify as agender (or any of the other things you mentioned) and still choose to dress however feels most comfortable and use whatever pronouns feel most comfortable. There are no set rules except: do what feels most genuine and comfortable!

if you do want to answer this but dont want to use this large of an ask on your blog, just call me dancer anon, i will see and understand 👍

again, sorry for dumping all of this on you

ahhhhhhh don't be sorry, you are a wonderful human!

have a wonderful day

you, too! please message me if you want to talk more! <3

[suzie-guru]

Heey Suzie, im a big fan of your writing! Including “Between the Shadow and the Soul” , which is easily my favorite fanfic lately, and I wanted to ask you if you are still going to continue it because I, and many other people, love it very dearly, and it would be a shame for a master piece to go unfinished. Please think about continuing it for you fans. Love you 🥰

This is an incredibly old ask and I’m relatively sure you’re into other fandoms and things now. First, thank you for the love and the kind words. However, I wanted to answer this because of something specific in this message:  “Please think about continuing it for you fans.”

I’ve been thinking about some things that I need to get off my chest here, the reason why I’ve been away from Tumblr and, honestly, why I will continue to be pretty minimal in my activity on the site. 

First and foremost, there’s something I should state - almost everyone in my family, including myself, is in a service career. Nurses, teaching, the clergy…those professions are very normal to go into in our family. And it’s also very much the norm in our family to put others before ourselves, to help whenever we can. I’m not saying this to brag, it’s a fact. And it’s also a fact that we are so ingrained to perform services for others above anything else that we often neglect our own personal needs and health and self care. 

One of my biggest struggles is being a people pleaser and needing validation from others. Unfortunately both of these traits have led me down some very detrimental paths, and I turned to very unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with it. I’ve grown enough and have learned enough to understand that self care is just as important as service, that setting boundaries isn’t selfish, and that one can be compassionate without letting themselves be consumed in the process. 

How does this relate to this ask, to me not being on Tumblr? 

Tumblr was where I got almost all of my social interactions, the one place I could cut loose with other people. I had genuine friendships on here, very close relationships. The Strange Magic Fandom experience was a heady, loving and beautiful one, and it was a huge part of my life, as were the people I met through it. It was my everything, even through the longest, darkest depressive period I’ve ever had. 

Time went on, as it does, and people came in and out of the fandom, but I had my close friends and all was good. Until I noticed after a few weeks that they weren’t interacting with my personal posts like they used to. They weren’t as constant as they had been. 

I felt left behind, rejected, overlooked. I was asking myself, what I had done? Did I fail them in some way? What way? Was it the fact I wasn’t creating content? Did they finally realize I wasn’t worth their time? 

I was deep in an anxiety spiral, and my self loathing was in full force. Each time I went on Tumblr and saw these people interacting and posting with others but not me, it hissed at me that was reminded how I was no longer important, how I would always be left behind unless I was putting others first, “you can only use the depression period as an excuse for so long…” 

For my mental and emotional health, I stepped away from Tumblr. I spent the next few months reading and working out and drawing and hiking and working and living my life. Those months turned into years. And I didn’t feel the need to come back, dive in as deeply as I had. The hurt had caused the departure, but now I recognized something else. 

I was making Tumblr my haven of validation. My whole self worth was tied to it. And when I didn’t create fanfics or update them, I thought I was failing my friends, exposing myself as a subpar artist, a bad person. 

When I wasn’t. And I’m not. 

My stories are deeply personal, and I pour myself into them. And that takes time. And I have a life to lead along with all that.

The saying “write for yourself” is an odd one - I believe it and I don’t. Creators need feedback, interactions with what they create. It helps their process and inspires them. When I read a book or go see a movie, I’m inspired by it. Creativity fuels creativity. 

Fanfiction has a blessing and the bane of being able to directly communicate with the author. The comments of those who read my fanfics are deeply deeply deeply treasured by me. I can’t even begin to say how much they mean to me. 

My stories are personal but I share them because I want to. People see themselves echoed in stories, and that’s why they matter. I want to share my stories because I want to give others the same experiences I’ve had reading stories. 

So I do write for people in that I share my stories. But I also write for myself. I write because the words won’t leave me, because the scenes keep playing in my head, because I want to chase after all the questions. I write to get the damn thing out of my head and onto the page so I finally have space in my skull. I write to satisfy my soul, hungry hungry hungry thing that it is. 

But I have learned a hard lesson, and I know myself better now then I did when I started posting fanfiction. And while I’m absolutely certain it was not intended in such a way, “continuing it for you fans” is something I will not set store in because I’ve been down that path. I don’t like what it did to me, what I did to myself.

I plan to continue my stories. But I will no longer apologize for taking my time with them because it is just that: mine. 

[minjoon-love]

not that last tcich anon, and im not here to invalidate their reaction or desires for the story either, but that ask was rlly fascinating to see for me since my experience was so juxtaposed. havent read the last chapter yet (im DYING to i just wanted to share before it affects these thoughts) but i appreciated yoongi's aloofness, in those decisions but throughout the fic. fundamentally it seems other anon is looking for a love story, whereas im more indulged by a relationship that has the capacity to be love but is beholden to circumstance. i got the impression that yoongi's coup (forgive me if thats off, its been ages since i read the full fic n have forgotten the details) is more important to him than jimin from the beginning, and thats what i liked. it made his obvious feelings for jimin that much more entertaining/interesting & his willingness to resign to losing him compelling, if ruthless (n i do love some ruthlessness for a cause in stories). i dont want yoongi to be a good partner since i never got the impression he was supposed to be, n the imbalance of emotional investment between them was my favorite part of yoonmin's dynamic apropo of the whole would-be-love-if-i-didnt-have-a-longstanding-political-scheme-to-complete thing. not that yg being confronted by how much he cares for jimin would be bad, i'd love to see how he would cope with that without compromising his plans. and jimin certainly deserves it, tho i find it interesting anon wants to punish yg for putting jm in danger by putting jm in danger (not that it matters, just earnestly curious logic to me). but personally a character who is stalwart in the agenda hes clearly had, and his love int has known hes had, since the beginning sticking to his characterization even if it means endangering the undeserving and reader-favored love interest in a pretty cold move will always excite me more than one easily led astray by their emotions, esp if theyre meant to be from a kill-or-be-killed habitat. this is why its my favorite fic to date--most ppl dont go there from a premise i'd enjoy in fanfic, or write yoongi into the role even tho i think hes easily the most suited to that kind of ruthless, uncompromising ambition in a hyperfictionalized iteration of bts. or they do go there but its a character flaw that is fixed, rather than just a trait to be examined or used. thank you sm for writing it im gonna go read the last chapter and stare at a wall to process how grateful i am i got to read it now 🖤🖤🖤

Wow, this was an interesting read! I think the intention I had was to make Yoongi's character be someone who is for the most part cold and calculated, and more prone to think with logic than with his feelings. But also to bring out the fact that people who always make the rational choice, can still have profound emotions that affect them. So to be honest it was never my intention to write Yoongi as someone who doesn't care about Jimin, but his feelings just got warmer and warmer as time went by, or he started to admit to himself that he had feelings. And even then, when they had to start making some difficult choices, Yoongi was willing to send Jimin to Korea with Namjoon and Hoseok because he trusted them and trusted their plan, and also truly believed it would be the best way to not only get rid of the old man but also save Jimin. Sure, they kind of used Jimin for their plan, but on the other hand he really believed that if he would fail in the old man's eyes, Jimin would be in even more danger because someone else would be sent after him, which would only make the situation more unpredictable. So that was my logic behind why things happened this way. I don't know if you'll end up being happy with the conclusion of Yoongi actually becoming a better partner by the very end of the story and even getting a boring "normal" job. 😆 But I also wanted Yoongi to grow as a character by the end of the story and come face to face with what's really important to him in life. Thinking about it now, if I had more patience or wanted to drag out the "6 months later" epilogue, I might have explained better what both Yoongi and Jimin's motivations were at that point, but honestly I just don't like reading super long and dragged out conclusions, so I opted for explaining things shortly instead, and hopefully it still feels like a suitable conclusion.

[blooming-cecilia]

special | venti/reader

what makes you, a mere mortal, special in the eyes of barbatos, the god of freedom and wind?

drabble, 100% pure fluff, gn reader (if i let a gendered pronoun slip, pls lmk)

if you know of lunasmr, this was written with her venti and that format in mind. (highly recommend you check out luna's audios if you haven't yet, especially if you're a venti liker! she characterizes all characters she does content for really well!)

likes and reblogs appreciated, enjoy! <3

you and venti lie in bed together one slow afternoon, just enjoying each other's presence. snuggling into each other's embrace, pressing kisses here and there, bathing in the serenity of your room when he starts telling you how much he appreciates you and the love you give him.

"......no one has ever loved me like this, as much as you do, and it feels... so nice. to be loved by you."

you lie next to him, smiling over his sweet words when the thought occurs to you, "wait... am i to take it that i'm your first lover too?"

"hm? yes, you are...?" he sees your eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming on your lips, "what's wrong, windblume?"

you turn to face him fully.

"as happy as i am to hear that i'm your first and only... it makes me a little sad, somehow. to think that no one has shown you the love that you rightfully deserve in all those years..."

"..."

"i like the idea of being special to you in this way but i think... i would have loved it more if there were people before me who appreciated you as much as i do. i think you deserve so much more than i am able to give and if it comes from others too, so be it. i just want you to be the happiest you could ever be."

he lies there silently, taking in your earnest gaze and your sincere words. he is once again stunned by how good you truly are. who else would wish for him to have had past lovers, just so he could have also been as happy as he is now in the many long years before he's met you?

"oh windblume... you're too good to me sometimes, you know that? seems i haven't made the mistake to wait for you to come after all."

he laughs softly at the confusion written all over your face.

"i may have fancied others before and have had others fancy me in return, but none have ever been fortunate enough to be in your position right now. my lover, the one who truly sees, accepts and loves all of me, the way i do for you.

and sure, i've met and befriended plenty outstanding individuals in my life, and i'm glad to have had the opportunity to see them bloom into such wonderful people.

but none of them were you."

ha takes your hand and places it on his chest, right over his heart. he rests his own hand on top of yours. the steady ba-bump of his heart quickly speeding up the longer you press your hand onto it.

"you're the only one that makes me feel this way, my dear. the only one i want to see lying next to me when i wake up in the mornings... the only one i want to hold in my arms as i fall asleep at night. the only one i want to spend the rest of my days with."

his free hand cups your cheek and strokes it, delighting in the way it heats up under his touch.

"such a beautiful heart and soul..." he giggles as he taps on your nose with his finger, "and a pretty face too!"

"i know that i can trust you completely. i'm yours. i love you, and only you. that is what makes you special, and the reason i'll choose no one else but you to be my lover."

[blorbocedes]

okay, so. you love brocedes, you love lestappen. the arcs seem so polar-opposite so here go essay wild should you wish (mainly bc i would love to read it. and feel free to talk about carlando as well bc that too is a wildly different dynamic to brocedes and lestappen.)

what makes you love each?

do you have a favorite between the two (or three). does one pull on your heartstrings more than the other?

are there similarities?

<3

hi Xiao ☺️ here's my carlando essay so I'll focus mainly on the brothercedes and lest we stappens here. strap yourself, im about to maxplain

first thing about me: my favourite trope in the whole world is friends to lovers (crowd booing) it's having a shared history, the familiarity, how you can only truly hurt someone you love [and the possibility of reconciliation, to come back home insert seb clip about rbr]

brocedes is actually why I got into f1 fandom! i saw ONE (1) Richard Siken edit and it was over for me

literally. i have not used tumblr in 7 YEARS i used it just for lurking and that goddamn edit compelled me to write my first fic (during the writing of which I found out they still lived in the same building??? i lost my mind and have not found it since)

lestappen was a see it to believe it moment, I watched miami gp and saw these two championship rivals being Cute and Max's earnestness to talk to charl got to me. i was like oh yeah okay I see it. i don't choose anything I like, I either see The Vision or I don't -- and while brocedes is like I'm an archeologist excavating a fallen city trying to figure out what happened piece the lore, lestappen is happening In Front Of Our Eyes we're witnessing the stars getting crossed, the history in the making <3

I might have the most confusing layout cause I'm a max girlie whose pfp is charles, and header is brocedes named blorbocedes while I pray on merc's flop era 😭 (ending but never forgotten), while rooting for redbulls [sorry but I've seen my Ferrari girlies SUFFERING, I'll stick to my world champion 🥰]

in many ways, lestappen and brocedes are like a foil to each other (crowd booing, we get it u did literary analysis in highschool once) where brocedes were a childhood friendship gone wrong, lestappen are childhood rivals turned tentative friends. there's just something very compelling about a world champion and his main rival trying to keep a friendship alive while directly competing, and having years of shared history to get there. brocedes DREAMING of becoming teammates, world champions together; both max and charl saying how they have a mutual respect now that they'd both made it to f1. And that's before even touching the cut throat life and politics of getting into f1, the concept of being golden boys.

my favourite lestappen and brocedes parallel is that lewis and nico's first karting race nico led the whole race then on the final lap, lewis crossed him and won the race; and compare with the Inchident™️ but Nico & Lewis became best friends, whereas Charl held an admittedly one sided grudge against Max during their karting days.

brocedes is everything that went wrong, lestappen is how it can go right (we can learn from lovers past who didnt make it)

do I have a favourite? yes. brocedes. i, yeah. they light my brain on fire.

HOWEVER, I enjoy brocedes as a reader and consumer, whereas as lestappen I am compelled to write for them (also I'm the only one who gets them and everyone else is wrong 😤) I suppose it is a bit passé to say anything outside of "ahh I write for myself and inherent love for writing" fuck that lol I write for attention I like it when people read my shit and we can talk about it 🥰🥰🥰 I also disagree with popular fandom interpretation with lestappen (which is fine, it has a huge audience so it clearly works for a lot of people) but that's why I have to write my own food for them. I have so many lestappen wips 😭

(like I don't think charl is a soft fragile thing who needs taken care of, even tho I also mine charl pain for content so like I Get it but also no one else gets it, and don't fucking get me started on the 'jos verstappen's A+ parenting' tag that's another essay in itself)

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

can you pleasee do pt 2 to draco fucking his arranged marriage wife of the next day the reader being needy saying that she can’t get enough of him while he’s working in his office and he’s like “babe im busy😑” but then rails tf outta her right there😀 with like praise and daddy kink😩😩😩

read part 1 here

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 3.0k

warning(s): 18+, dom/sub roles, daddy kink, praise, slight degradation/humiliation, mentions of arranged marriage

a/n: i have been so excited to write a part two to this imagine the second i got the request. there will also be a part three coming soon so if you like these stay tuned! these have to be my favorite ones i've ever written.

It was the day after your marriage truly started. Although you and your husband, Draco Malfoy, had been married for weeks, the marriage truly began yesterday.

It had been a whirlwind.

It all began with you fucking your ex boyfriend, something you did in a desperate attempt to receive physical contact and get out of the house you had thought to be a prison.

When your husband came home, you decided it would be a brilliant idea to tell him. It was an arranged marriage, one that he did not seem enthusiastic to be a part of, so you figured there would be no hard feelings.

You were incredibly, incredibly wrong.

He had a lot of feelings about your adultery, but not only was there the anger and jealousy you were expecting, there was sadness. That had taken you by surprise, and only after poking the dragon, you finally consummated your marriage with your husband. Right there on the couch of the entrance hall.

After he had fucked you silly, you both reached the agreement that you would actually try to work as a real marriage. You had both made mistakes, and you were both ready and excited to move past those and really try to build a relationship out of what you had both thought was doomed from the start.

Which was why you were in front of his study, a hand raised and ready to knock, the following evening. He had been in there most of the day, working on a project for what you had learned to be connected to the Malfoy’s family business, but you were ready to put an end to his work day in the best way you knew how.

Your hand had barely connected with the wood when you heard a curt “Come in,” from the other side of the door.

You opened the door slowly and walked in, taking in the sight before you. There were papers scattered all over the desk, inkwells and quills mixed into the mess. Either you caught him at a bad time, or he wasn’t as tidy as you had assumed.

But it wasn’t the desk that caught your eye. It was him.

His button down shirt was rolled up the elbows at the cuffs. His hands, already littered with rings, were smudged with ink and deftly writing something down on a piece of parchment. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head, but what struck you were his glasses. You didn’t even know he wore glasses. But he looked damn good in them, because of course he fucking did.

“Yes?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he watched you openly check him out. You hadn’t even realized he had looked up from the parchment he had been writing on.

“Just figured you could use a break, dinner’s ready,” you explained, quickly catching yourself.

“I’ll be out in a bit. I just need to finish this bit up,” he replied, an obvious dismissal but you had had enough of that over the past two weeks to last a lifetime.

“Draco, you’ve obviously been at this for a while. Just come take a break,” you argued defiantly, happy with the knowledge you finally felt comfortable enough to do so.

“Y/N, I’m busy,” he said gently, clearly not wanting to break the carefully made balance you had just created with a silly argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You admitted it to yourself when you walked in the room. You didn’t really want him to take a break just to have dinner with you. No. You wanted him to take a break so he would fuck you right over his desk.

“You can finish it later,” you continued, your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for his eventual push back.

But his argument never came.

Slowly, painfully slow, he began to stack up his papers in neat piles to put them away. Next were the inkwells being covered and finally the quills being put away. All without a word between you both.

When his desk was cleared, he finally turned his attention back to you.

“You come into my study and argue with me over taking a break just to go eat dinner. You haven’t bothered to ask me to dinner once over the past few weeks. So is it really dinner that’s got you so riled up, or is it something else?” He asked straight faced, but the twinkle in his eye led you to believe he knew exactly why you were arguing.

“Can’t a wife just want to spend time with her husband?” You argued, but it didn’t hold the impact you wanted the words to have.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, pushing his chair back just slightly. “Come here,” he commanded, crooking his fingers in your direction.

With just two silly little words your skin was flushed and your nerves were on fire. You weren’t sure what type of hold this man had over you, but it ran deep for only having just fucked him the day before for the first time.

You followed his command without a second thought, and it led you to standing right between his spread legs with your back pressed up against his now pristine desk.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think my wife just wants to get fucked. Am I correct?” He asked, raking his eyes over your body greedily, taking in every inch of you. You were just lucky you dressed to impress tonight in a perfect, form-fitting black cocktail dress. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Yes,” you answered easily, completely giving up the fight now that you could see the hunger that you felt reflected in his eyes.

He gave you a slow smile before dragging you down to straddle his lap, perfectly placing you so you could feel his growing erection against your core as he kissed you roughly. It was perfect after a day of craving him so fiercely, and you knew this was only the appetizer.

His hands possessively roamed your body as he continued to dominate your kiss, finally landing on your ass to pull you closer against him. Your hands made quick work of taking his glasses off and gently placing them on the desk somewhere behind you before trailing through his hair, messing up his perfectly placed platinum locks.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down on him, moans spilling from both of your lips at the friction. He let you do as you please for a few minutes, just enjoying kissing you and having you in his lap, but once your hands went to undo the buttons on his shirt, he gripped your hips roughly and pushed you back.

“Let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. I’m in charge, and you’ll be a good girl and do as I say, won’t you?” He asked, running a thumb along your lower lip as he spoke.

You bit his finger gently before answering, and your answer only riled him up more than the bite did.

“Yes, Daddy.”

And just like that he unleashed himself on you, much like he had done the day before.

He had you on your feet and spun around faster than you could even blink. Within the next breath, your dress was being stripped off of your body and thrown across the room, your breasts exposed. When he had you bent over the desk with just a thong on, he finally opened his mouth again.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked, dragging his hands up the back of your thighs until he was grabbing your ass again.

“Yes,” you gasped out, knowing you were already drenched from his words and touch alone.

When you felt his palm connect with your raised ass, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that fell from your lips.

“Yes, what?” He asked, rubbing his hands in circles to soothe the ache, but the contrast of his warm skin and cold rings only left you shaking.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered, saying the words again.

They were meant to be a joke at first. Just another jest to rile him up and poke at him. But now, after having called him Daddy twice, it was starting to feel right. Like this was exactly the dynamic you were meant to be in with him.

“So much better. Look at you, already dripping down your thighs,” he mused, his finger trailing up your thigh in what you could only assume was a patch of wetness, a blush falling over your face at the thought.

He dragged your thong down your legs and slowly freed your feet before tossing the scrap of fabric across the room as well, leaving you totally exposed.

“Is this what you wanted? To be bent over Daddy’s desk just begging to be fucked?” He asked, his weight pinning you down as he bent over, slowly dragging his lips up the side of your neck as he spoke. You could feel how hard he was against your ass and you fought now to roll your hips into him, but you knew he would put an end to it anyway.

“Please fuck me,” you begged quietly, your words no more than a whisper as you played right into the fantasy he was spinning for the both of you.

“Patience, darling,” he said accompanied by a dark chuckle, but he didn’t leave you wanting.

He kept his weight on you, his lips leaving open mouth kisses on your neck that were sure to leave bruises for the coming days, but he dragged a finger up your slit and plunged inside of you.

You were so on edge that the one finger almost made you cum right then, but of course he was careful to make sure that didn’t happen. He teased you along until one finger turned into two, and by then you were a writhing mess on his desk.

“Daddy, please. I’m ready. Just fuck me,” you begged impatiently, all of your focus on him and his miraculous fingers.

Silently, he pulled back to stand up fully behind you. For a moment, you thought you’d be getting what you wanted, but you should have known it was too good to be true. You weren’t getting fucked until he thought you were ready.

You felt his thumbs pull your lips apart, and you knew all of his focus was right on you, right on where you were a dripping mess for him and that had you fighting not to squirm under his gaze.

“I told you to be patient, pretty girl. Or are you just that desperate to cum you couldn’t help yourself? Because this pretty little hole isn’t ready for me yet,” he mused, and his words forced an unexpected moan out of you.

You were exposed and aching, a true flushed mess in front of him, while he was a master of poise and control, still fully clothed behind you. Something about the situation made your head spin and your knees weak, and you knew you were in for a wild ride with this man. But you were willing to take anything and everything he threw your way because there was no denying you were enjoying every second of this. Not when he was holding you open obscenely and could see the evidence for himself.

“I want to cum,” you answered honestly, your breasts grinding on the desk and you arched your back, further exposing yourself in the hopes that he would fulfill your wishes.

While still holding you open, he used one gentle finger to stroke over your clit and it was just enough pressure to cause a shiver to run down your spine. If he kept it up, you knew you’d cum in seconds. “Go ahead, cum for me. Let me watch you make a mess of yourself,” he commanded, keeping the gentle pressure on your clit.

You came with a scream, your legs shaking beneath you. The desk was the only reason you stayed up, otherwise you would have collapsed from the force of your orgasm right there. It felt like one of the most intense orgasms of your life, all just from a little flick of his finger.

As you came down, you were gasping for air, just as desperate for your next breath as you were for Draco’s cock. No matter how mind shattering your orgasm had been, you were still craving more. You’d always crave more from him.

“That was beautiful, darling - watching you clench around nothing as you screamed for me. I think you’re ready for my cock now,” he mused, slowly stroking his hands up and down your back in an effort to calm your body, but every nerve was on fire from his touch.

“Please, please, fuck me Draco. I need you,” you were begging shamelessly now, not even worried about making a fool of yourself in this new marriage. You were both too invested in this moment to care, both of you just knew you needed each other.

“Shh, you have me, pretty girl. I’m right here,” he soothed, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders as he worked to free his cock behind you. “Stay just like that.”

You didn’t even know he had succeeded in taking his cock out until you felt his tip against your entrance, and he didn’t wait a second longer. He plunged into you like he was just as desperate as you were, which by the way he was fucking you in brutal strokes, you could tell he was.

Your hands clutched the edge of the desk for dear life, your knuckles a bright white against the dark oak wood. With every thrust, your hips collided with the sharp edge, sure to leave some marks for you to admire the next day.

You could feel the power behind each deep, hard stroke and you knew he was giving you his all. The previous night had been kind and sweet compared to the brutal fucking he was giving you now. You felt fucked within an inch of your life and he had barely even started.

“Fuck, Y/N. You take me so fucking well. So perfect,” he praised, not even sounding out of breath. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even control the noises that were coming from your mouth.

You climbed up the peak steadily, but even in your cock drunk daze you knew this orgasm would wipe you out. Once you were about to reach the edge, he pulled out.

“No, please, fuck. I was so close,” you whined, but a startled gasp came out of your mouth next when he lifted you up and spun you around, your back crashing back down on the desk with a gentle thud.

You finally got the chance to look at him, then. His cock was hard and aching, on the verge of falling over the edge himself. His hair was disheveled and he had that glow that only sex could bring coming from his perfect skin, but when you locked eyes you couldn’t look away. His silver eyes were clouded with lust and possession, a man closing in for the kill on his prey. It was terrifying and arousing all at once, but you were sure your own eyes reflected something similar.

Draco wasted no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders and coming down to take your lips in a brutal kiss just before fucking back into you, his pace the same as it had been in the previous position. He swallowed your moans greedily, but finally pulled back to just concentrate on your face.

“I needed to look at you when you came on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart for me,” he ordered, but his voice was gentle and there was a smile fighting to tug on his face. It didn’t hold the same dominance his previous commands did, but you followed it all the same.

One, two, three thrusts later you came with his name on your lips as he fucked you through it. It was like your whole world blacked out and only the two of you existed, suspended in this moment as he stared down at your blissed out face. He followed you shortly, and the feel of him emptying himself inside of you accompanied by the litany of choked out praises he was giving you was almost enough to push you into a third orgasm.

You both stayed like that as the minutes passed, chest to chest and near face to face as you caught your breath. It was no easy feat after an orgasm like that, but finally he was wrapping you in his arms and balancing you in his lap as he got comfortable in his desk chair once again.

“Was that too much?” He asked, the concern dripping from his voice as he tenderly brushed your hair from your face.

You could have laughed at his concern. That was the best sex you had ever had in your life, and he was asking if it was too much. But you didn’t want to worry him.

“Draco, that was perfect. I loved every second of it,” you told him honestly, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye so he would have no room for doubt.

It was him who laughed then, in sheer disbelief of the woman curled up in his lap. “I got too lucky with you. You’re perfect,” he said with a smile, a small kiss to your forehead following his words.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you insisted, curling further into his chest as the events of the evening finally wore on your body. It was comfortably silent for a few minutes as he held you, until you remembered why you had truly come into his study in the first place. “But I was serious when I came in. Dinner’s ready,” you reminded him with a slight giggle.

“How about I get you up to bed and we eat dinner in bed, hm?” He asked, already lifting you up and carrying you towards the door.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, relaxing against his strong chest as he continued to prove just how lucky you were to end up in this arranged marriage.

[traumatictouch]

why tomura reads like a sexual abuse survivor

ive noticed that a lot of survivors - including me - easily read tomura as a csa survivor. ive decided to try to put these impressions into words, mostly for myself, but also for anyone curious as to why he’s so frequently read this way, or why i personally write him as such. i will mostly be elaborating on the reoccurring sexual assault imagery and csa survivor traits tomura exhibits.

triggering themes ahead, including discussed child sexual abuse, incest (sibling and pseudo), trauma and its effects, and sexual assault imagery (from the bnha manga itself). also spoilers for the most recent manga arc.

(disclaimer: i realize symptoms of trauma are pretty much common all across the board, and depression also comes with a lot of these behaviors - but there are some that crop up more commonly in cases of sexual abuse (especially from a young age) than in others. csa survivors also frequently end up with depression, too, so that doesn't necessarily take away from it.)

i’ll start with the cover above. the hands touching him here are much more expressive than the ones he usually wears. it's also framed in a way where you can't see the ends/cap things very well, and they don't appear so symmetrical, making them feel much more like real, living hands grabbing him.

there's also the fact that his face is exposed, which is something we had rarely seen him do willingly at this point in the manga, and even when he had he was still covered up with a hoodie or completely alone. the way he's covering half his face gives off the impression that he's not okay with the way he's exposed.

all of that, plus the obvious distress tomura is in, gives this very glaring assault vibes.

also, the hands on his head are clearly someone's actual, living hands as well. my guess is afo, especially since they seem to be petting him, which is reoccurring imagery between tomura and afo.

tomura's total lack of privacy

there's a clear lack of boundaries between tomura and the adults in his life. most of the spaces that seem to belong to tomura (the bar - he feels safe enough there to take Father off, and his room) are accompanied by cameras and audio transmissions from afo. he has no privacy, and doesn't even seem bothered by this fact.

he also doesn't seem to set boundaries with other people in general. toga can hold a knife to his neck, spinner can grab him and yell in his face, the doctor can shout over his earpiece, dabi (or anyone, really) can say whatever rude or callous things he wants to him… really the only time i can think of that even comes close was when mr. compress made a joke about working with overhaul and tomura said "hey, not funny."

he seems to kinda just let whatever happen to him. earlier in the series, tomura seemed to rely on kurogiri to notice when he needed space and step in for him rather than ask for it himself. that's a pretty telltale sign of someone who's had their needs and boundaries violated (or even punished) for a long time.

Tomuras over-attachment to afo and his praise/affection

obviously afo groomed tomura whether it involved sexual abuse or not, but it is something that could have easily lended itself to that as well. early in the series, tomura clearly highly valued afos opinion of him, and seemed to strive to please and repay him for his kindness. these are feelings afo incited in him on purpose and did, canonically, take advantage of to turn tomura into a villain and pawn - who's to say he didn't use it for other purposes, too?

it's also the kind of thing survivors tend to latch onto to cope with their abuse. it can be easier to think of the event as being affection, returning a favor, and/or special treatment, than to think of it as abuse. tomura looked up to afo so much that it's possible he could have considered (or been convinced) that it was special that someone as great as afo wanted to do something so intimate with him.

also, if this is really tomura realizing his sensei isn't as special and powerful as he'd been led to believe, then his reaction being to cover up while looking angry might, well… be a reaction to feeling used.

Tomura & older men

there's not a lot of people besides afo that tomura seems very quickly, openly… invested in. there are two major ones i can think of, and they are both 1. older men, and 2. mentor figures (even if not to tomura.)

the most obvious of the two is aizawa, who tomura has seemed pretty fond of since his first appearance and, even in the most recent chapters, can't seem to help but think about how cool aizawa is. aizawa isn't a mentor to tomura, obviously, but he is a teacher and tomura knows this. (and seems impressed by the way he tries to protect the students in his care--something afo very specifically does not do for tomura.)

the second, and perhaps less obvious to most, is Stain. i wrote up a whole post trying (trying.) to explain the way tomura seemed interested in him, and you can see a bit more about that and how tomura was hoping he'd be a mentor to him here.

in other words, tomura has shown reoccurring interest in older men, who are mentors, that he does not show for anyone else.

early sexual abuse can influence a person's attractions. survivors tend to be drawn to what is familiar, even if it hurt, and so it's pretty common for them to be attracted to and/or desire a relationship with those who resemble their abuser(s).

and afo is an older man who is a mentor to tomura (and others.)

immaturity (& age regression)

tomura, in early canon, is often described by characters in-universe as being childish, especially in regards to how he processes his emotions. (i don't really like to conflate these things with "age" or "being childish" - but the way the manga itself presents these qualities is clearly intended to give tomura a immature/childish vibe.)

tomura's emotional processing, simple motivations, fixation with video games, toys littering his room, and need for close caregiving (kurogiri) all give off the impression that he's had trouble developing the way he "”should”" have--kind of like he didn't really move on at all.

this sort of stunted development tends to occur in people with childhood trauma, especially csa survivors. ptsd at its core is the brain getting "stuck" in the moment of trauma, so if the trauma occurred as a child, then one's development is somewhat halted there, especially in areas of emotional processing, because the brain and body have to dedicate so much energy to just trying to cope and survive. it's pretty common for csa survivors to have trouble coping with and controlling their emotions.

relatedly: i have no real way to confirm this right now, but i’ve heard that during the mla arc, while tomura was kind of going in and out of flashbacks, he started switching to using “boku” - a self pronoun for young boys - as opposed to his usual “ore”). ive since had to wonder if this is a reoccurring state for tomura - it might partly explain why he keeps his toys around despite never showing interest in them on-screen, and has such close supervision from kurogiri.

again, age regression can go for any kind of childhood trauma, but seems very common in child sexual abuse survivors in particular.

Lack of hygiene (esp oral)

look at how tomura's teeth are drawn compared to even another villains. dabis teeth are straight and clean, whereas tomura's have holes and chips, and tend to be drawn uneven with wobbly lines, like they're covered in plaque.

not caring for one's hygiene is common for people with depression too - but failure to care for teeth also frequently crops up in survivors of sexual abuse, due to an aversion to things touching or being inside their mouth, because it can remind them of the abuse.

in a similar vein, tomura's hair looks unwashed and greasy to me, especially when it gets long. it sort of gathers in clumps and appears heavy. survivors may avoid taking showers because they aren't comfortable removing their clothes for long periods of time, or because the abuse occurred in proximity to bathing. (which is a convenient time for parental figures to groom and abuse their children, since it already involves them being naked and the parent touching them closely.)

in general, there just seems to be something off about tomura's relationship with his body. maybe it's the way he barely bats an eye at major injuries, doesn't care for his hygiene, self-injures, and didn't mind undergoing a surgery that altered its shape and function pretty heavily--but i get the impression that tomura sees his body as just a tool more than anything.

which, if someone grew up having their body regarded as nothing but a means of pleasure, kind of makes sense.

his clothing

im not sure if this has the same “connotations” (for lack of a better word) for flat chested people, but tomura always wearing a lowcut shirt that shows off a fair amount of his chest, but covering the rest of himself head to toe--including his face--feels significant to me. as well as the way he covers up even more (his hoodie) when he’s stressed. the hands, too--being covered up seems to be calming for him.

the placement of the hands afo gave him

you can't tell me little tenko placed these hands where they are by himself. the ones on his chest aren’t even from his family or meant to resemble them - they’re additional hands afo gave him to wear. pretty weird place for “afo”’s hands to go...

I feel like theres a little bit something to tomura frequently having his clothes ripped off during fights

not that it's particularly uncommon for bnha characters to get their clothes a bit shredded during fights, but i can't help but feel like there's something to tomura getting torn down to nothing but his pants twice, with both battles heavily involving tomura's traumas, including the ones related to afo. the vs mla arc with how tomura met afo and how he turned him into what he is today, then the war arc where the methods afo used to control and abuse tomura (the hands) are brought back again--and afo repeatedly takes tomura's bodily autonomy away from him.

AFO's predatory behaviors

tomuras own behavior aside, All For One himself has some behaviors and imagery that gives off very predatory vibes. i’ll start with Ragdoll…

most people theorize that she was going to be turned into a nomu, but there are two important things here. ragdoll was found 1. alive, and 2. naked. all nomu are made from corpses - if afo had time to take her quirk and undress her, he certainly had time to kill her, especially since three days had passed since she was kidnapped. (and, what benefit would there be to making a nomu out of a quirkless hero?)

her dazed state is also curious - we've never been told taking or giving quirks has a side effect like this, and i would think itd at least wear off after three days…

there's also not actually a lot to suggest she was submerged in one of the tanks (that i know of); in the full body image, she doesn't seem to be soaking wet or anything. there's no water dripping off her. there's just a bit of liquid on her face and neck, which could merely be sweat, or… other fluids.

this next part is more debatable due to it being more dubiously canon (although My Hero: One’s Justice has been known to basically spoil villain related lore before it appears in the manga) - but he has some dialogue that makes him sound... pretty fuckin enthusiastic about sexual violence.

and time and time again, afo has been... very creepy and obsessive about his brother. who happens to look an awful lot like tomura, and is vaguely connected to nana as a user of OFA, and we know how far afo would go to spite both of them.

The "wow this is pretty much confirmed now" page

i always thought i was just projecting when i read tomura as a csa survivor - until i saw this page, which was so viscerally uncomfortable that it made me nauseous. it definitely made me decide i wasn't just reading into things that weren't there. that's not exactly to say this panel 100% confirmed it (though it certainly did in my mind, personally) -- but the imagery here can't not be deliberate.

tomura is literally shirtless and bent over before afo, and sure, afos not completely standing behind him, but that's partially because his lower half is inside of tomura. and from our previous example of afo taking over tomura's body…

i wish i could find the translation i first saw - this is the viz translation, which is notoriously horrible - but the one i read felt much more along the lines of "i saved you, so i get to do what i want with your body."

that is a line of logic that could have EASILY applied to their earlier relationship. the way afo saved tenko was very much on the forefront of tomura's mind early in the series, possibly either an idea he clung onto to justify the abuse he experienced from afo, or something afo personally reminded him of frequently.

also… part of afos body is definitely wrapped around tomura's upper thigh, and in certain panels seems to be emanating from between his legs.

speaking of, tomura's stance is also notable to me. compared to the panel where tomura first realized afo was taking control of him, where his knees are pretty straight on or outwards in a powerful balanced brace, in these panels his knees seem to be bending in towards his body, like he wants to squeeze his legs shut. huh.

i touched on this before, but it's interesting to me that what finally let afo fully take control of tomura's body, was having a hand (one afo very specifically used to control and abuse tomura into doing what he wanted) placed upon his body without permission.

so, all in all, afo is "inside" tomura's body, using it for his own means, against tomura's wishes.

what else does that sound like? no wonder deku feels like tomura needs help, despite everything...

again, this isn't to say that csa is definitely the cause of these things, just that tomura does have an abundance of behaviors and imagery that could easily be read that way.

[duckymcdoorknob]

Uhm hi, I saw that your emergency requests were on and wanted a little confort for a long time. If you find a little time for this, here's my request: I never really had a lovely family, I was bullied and so much more. I have an ED but I am trying to recover and overall I wanna work on myself. I had very long hair and my parents loved it and never allowed me to cut it. Well now I finally did and my mum and I got into a fight and she was so manipulative and she said I always give everyone else the fault. Could you write a story where the reader tells their s/o about the manipulative and toxic household and gets comforted?

(My favorites are Osamu, Iwaizumi and Tendou, but feel free to use whoever you like.)

CONTENT WARNING: Eating Disorders, Toxic/Abusive family, Fear of failure, overperfectionism,

I love that you have come to me for help darling thank you for doing so,

You’re very lucky for comfort because I actually go through this also. I have a rocky relationship with my mother.

It got a little too long, so I only did Osamu. BUT you can always send me a request for Iwa and Tendou.

Also it gets a little in depth, but I wanted things to be concrete for you.

Please don’t be afraid to light up my inbox, or request again, if you’re ever in need of me!!

Osamu Miya

Osamu loves to share his passion for cooking with others, especially his s/o.

When he noticed you refusing his offers at lunch on the daily, he frowns.

Was it something he did?

Better to just observe for now.

He decided to test out his theory one day, giving you his normal morning greeting of a hug and a chaste kiss to the forehead.

“Good morning my love.” he cooed, pulling you close to him.

You smiled brightly at him, “morning, ‘Samu!”

Things seemed to be off to a good start, but there was time for him to observe.

As the day skipped by, he noticed how your demeanor would change.

Like during English, when you got an 80% on your test. He noticed your happy face drop into an immediate sour one.

“Love an 80% is just fine. You have room for improvement, yes, but you’re not a completely lost cause.”

“Y...you don’t get it, ‘Samu.” you mumbled, tucking the test in your school bag, standing to leave as the bell rang.

Things only seemed to get worse as time passed.

Osamu noticed that you were in an absolutely terrible mood during lunch, practically on the verge of tears. It was only worsened when Atsumu was poking fun at you for “forgetting your lunch.”

“Hey.” Samu mumbled, fingers gently grazing your shoulder, “let’s go somewhere, yeah?”

After announcing to his brother and Kita that you two had to see a teacher, he led you by the hand to the empty gym. He sat you down on the sideline benches, letting you sit on his lap as you rested on his chest.

“Okay love, what’s been happening?”

The threatening tears started to burn as they welled in your eyes.

“I just... It’s all falling onto me ‘Samu. I can’t keep disappointing people! No matter what I try to fix, I always just end up falling short and disappointing someone-“

“You’re not disappointing people, I promise you.” He replied softly, wrapping his arms around you protectively.”

“But I am... it’s my fault that things are going this way I- I just need to be better.”

This comment sparked something inside him.

“(Y/N) there’s more to this... isn’t there...?”

The tears come out. They’re fat and patter onto Osamu’s hands, which are laced together around your torso.

“Take your time, my pretty baby. I’m right here.”

“ ‘s my mom. She just... She doesn’t believe in me anymore. It seems like all I am to her is a burden. I don’t even deserve basic things like eating anymore.”

“I see.”

“Im just so tired of feeling like this, ‘Samu.”

“Then don’t.” He replied quickly, “Just try to rest and relax for now. I promise you we have plenty of time.”

Osamu gently raked his fingertips up and down your arms as he rocked you in his arms.

“You are so much more than what your mother accounts you to be.” He says in a barely audible voice, “You’re passionate, sympathetic, humorous, kind-hearted. You’re dazzling, my love.”

“ ‘Samu don’t-“

“ M’not just trying to flatter you. I really mean it (Y/N). I love you for exactly who you are. You’re far from disappointing, In fact you push me to do better with volleyball.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, “Though I now understand why, whenever I see you so passionate and satisfied at succeeding, it makes me think ‘hey maybe I should try that mindset and I’ll have more fun.”

He once again wraps you in his embrace, squeezing tightly

“I love you for you. Your mother can’t do anything to taint my view of you, and I sure as hell will make sure she can’t do it for others’ either.”

[oreos-and-korra]

Amphibia Theory Time

Ivy- “I still can’t believe you used to be some kind of world traveler.” 

Felicia- *laughs* “Oh honey. Where do you think I met your father?” 

Ivy- “Does this guy look like Wally to anyone?” 

Okay this isn’t alot of supporting evidence since im going on the fact that Wally was suspiciously inserted to ‘Ivy on the Run’ back in season two and Wigbert Ribbiton played a minor part in ‘Sprivy’, another Ivy centered episode. But I’m 99% sure that Felicia Sundew went to Ribbetvale on a tea journey around ten years ago, met Wallium Ribbiton, briefly fell in love, returned to Wartwood and had Ivy soon after. Felicia doesn’t know that Wally is Wallium due to their seemingly drastically different personalities. Additionally, she probably lost contact with Wallium either after she left Ribbetvale or as soon as he started traveling on family business trips. Wally probably remembers Felicia but chooses not to bring up his real identity seeing that Felicia fell in love more with the polished, fancy version of himself and wouldn’t want anything to do with his true self. On the contrary, Felicia could have also led Wally on about her true identity too, but we haven’t seen her enough to know if this would be in character for her. However, he doesn’t know that Ivy is his child and probably assumes that Felicia had a child with someone else she met on that trip. Ivy knows that her dad lives somewhere far away, but has never attempted to learn more since he hasn’t been in her life and has only known her mother as her sole parent. Wigbert is probably more in the dark about all of this considering Felicia could of just been another lower class traveler to him. And now that Wigbert is supplying the Wartwood Rebellion, it’s only a matter of time before the three of them collide and the truth is revealed. 

Since we’re so close to the end of the series, If this is canon I doubt it’s going to be confirmed in anything more than a quick throwaway line or a brief scene. But I would love if Wigbert choose to relocate to Wartwood (probably due to Andrias taking over Ribbetvale) and Wally is unable to keep up the secret for much longer since they look so similar and more people are starting to recognize it. Then Felicia recognizes Wigbert and shes like “How’s your son doing? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from him.” And wally is there in the corner trying hard not to listen in on the conversation. Wigbert avoids giving a direct answer, but then Felicia is like “You know, I tried writing to him when i got back. I don’t think my letters ever made it. It’s been so long that I don’t think i can even remember his face. But sometimes, all i have to do is look at my little Ivy, and i see him right there in his child.” Wally visably reacts to this but tries to play it off, but Wigbert gives him away in one glance. Felicia looks at Wigbert and Wally and says “you know, I didn’t want to believe it for the longest, but know I guess the truth is out there. Isn’t it, Wallium?”

Then Ivy learns that not only is her mother a world traveler, her dad is secretly the heir to the Ribberton’s Ribbons dynasty and that one day she may inherit that too!

[adorerdraco]

Good Enough ✧ Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

Request: hiii i love your writing!! can you write about a sweet hufflepuff and how everyone thinks they aren’t a good pair together so one day Pansy bullies the reader into breaking it off with Draco because she feels like she’s not good enough for him then draco finds out and he’s really mad at Pansy?

Another seventh year AU where Voldermort never existed !

Warnings: bullying, slight angst, crying, cursing (barely), sad!draco, angry!draco, implied smut towards the end (also extra mean slytherins for the purpose of this imagine but i have nothing against them i <3 them as much as any other house)

Words: 4.5K

A/N: hiii thank youuuu 🥺💗 !!!!!! but ahhhh omg im a hufflepuff so i hope i delivered good hufflepuff energy in this oneee :’))) i think this might be my new favorite thing ive written omg but i do not own gif 

There was truly no explanation how you, a kind Hufflepuff, managed to become friends, let alone a couple, with the proud and arrogant Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy. 

On the outside, your relationship to everyone seemed uncanny and plain wrong. Even your friends and housemates had looked down on it for a while but eventually came around and just let you be. You couldn’t say the same for the Slytherin’s, however, because if there was one house they disliked more than Gryffindor; it was Hufflepuff.

They berated you and Draco for weeks after they found out he had started a relationship with you. They scowled at you when you would walk by them sometimes calling you names depending on whether or not Draco was by your side. He always defended you and you did your best to ignore them, but they were relentless. You had only been dating for about a month now and the tantalizing comments from Slytherin’s and anyone else who wanted tear the two of you down were right now seeming endless.

“Why can’t people leave us alone,” you said sadly to him one night. You were lying with him in a patch of grass outside the castle, head against his chest as his hand lazily traced patterns onto your bicep.

“They’re only jealous,” he sneered quietly. “People get mad at what they can’t have or what they can't understand.”

Draco’s patience with people was worsening each and every day. His housemates, regularly, would corner him in the common room and interrogate him with questions that made him want to rip his hair out.

“Is this some sort of prank you haven’t told us about, Malfoy?”

“A Hufflepuff? Have you gone mad?”

“Is she blackmailing you with something, mate?”

“Haven’t you thought about how that makes us Slytherin’s look?”

“She’s a blood-traitor!”

The questioning would always lead to him yelling and threatening everyone aggressively before he locked himself in his Prefect dorm or would leave the common room altogether in a fury. Those were the days he would find you after he calmed down and would hug you tightly, pressing kisses all over your face as he praised you with everything he adored about you to how happy you made him and how perfect you were for him. 

You, on the other hand, were dealing with much worse. You never told Draco some of the awful things people would say to you when he wasn’t around. You would stand up for yourself very rarely, confrontation not really being your first approach to handling things but when the insults were bad enough, you were forced to.

You would always hear a variation of the same things said either directly to you or from obvious whispering, majority of them being from Slytherin and the occasional judgmental comment from others.

“Filthy Hufflepuff!”

“Can’t believe one of them is dating one of ours.”

“What does Malfoy even see in her?”

“You’d think someone who’s supposed to be kind wouldn’t want anything to do with such an arse.”

More than ever, Draco found himself giving you an excessive amount of compliments and reassurances that he thought would balance out the insults and criticisms you would tell him about or he would witness. Everything he would tell you was true, of course, but you always felt like he said them out of pity or like he had to.

“I appreciate you trying to make it better, but you don’t have to keep complimenting me, Dray.” You’ve said to him countless times.

And he would often respond with, “but I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Despite the constant uphill battle, your relationship with the platinum blond was everything you hoped for and more. Considering your friendship had started on rocky beginnings a year ago, you would have never thought you’d be with him now.  You couldn’t thank the stars more for when your aged and nearly blind owl had flown straight into the back of his head, pecking at him while he tried to swat it away which then led to him giving you a piece of his mind and trying to hex your owl - causing you to try to hex him just as McGonagall happened to be passing by the fiasco that landed both of you in a months-long detention for reckless magic usage. It was in detention when the two of you were forced to spend time together and realized that the other wasn’t as bad as they thought.

Draco, much like everyone else, always believed Hufflepuffs to be weak and cowardly, too kind for their own good - but he quickly learned how common of a misconception that was the longer he knew you. You always fought for what was morally right, defended those you love and are loyal to courageously, and were sweet and friendly with everyone you talked to whether you knew them or not.

He gravitated towards your kindness and empathetic approach to everything. He loved to see the smiles you put on people’s faces or the way animals would randomly come up to you and immediately trust you enough to give them gentle pets that they always leaned into. He even loved the way you talked to everyone as your equals, something he rarely saw in his environment. Everything you did was a vast difference to what he saw on the daily from his cold and aloof peers, but it was a difference he enjoyed. He wished so deeply that everyone could see and understand how amazing you were to him and he was determined to make it happen.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked shyly as he held your hand tightly in his, walking you slowly over to his large group of his closest Slytherin friends that were all gathered around a bench under a tree in the courtyard.

The Prince of Slytherin believed that if he could get his friends to at least tolerate you, then everyone else would follow in suit. He only associated himself with the best and most influential of his house so if there was anyone that could improve his current situation; it would be them. You were a little uneasy about his plan, but later agreed when he had convinced you that his idea couldn’t and wouldn’t fail.

“Of course it is!” He exclaimed encouragingly. “Plus, I’m Draco Malfoy, they’ll like anything I tell them to like.”

“Okay,” you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly at his boast.

The closer you got to them, the more you felt your hands begin to sweat and the heat crawling up your face. They all began to turn towards the two of you, their eyes focusing on you and you only with a pointed gaze. You started to realize how greatly you underestimated how intimidating they looked. Especially the one girl who made it her mission to bother you every chance she could get - always from afar while she pointed at you and whispered something into her friend’s ears while they laughed or when she would pass by you and say something rude under her breath.

“Look what Malfoy’s dragged in!” Pansy Parkinson called out with a malicious smirk on her face as she eyed you.

“Give it a rest, Pansy,” Blaise sighed, “If Malfoy wants us to meet his little friend then so be it.”

“Not my little friend, my girlfriend,” Draco corrected angrily as the two of you finally reached the group. “This is Y/N and I wanted you all to meet her since I plan on having her around for a long while, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Long while? Poor thing can’t even introduce herself,” Pansy laughed tauntingly.

“I think Draco introduced me just fine right now but if you want, I’ll do it again to make you feel better,” you smiled a big fake toothy grin at her. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Everyone snickered at your response, watching for the girl’s reaction as her nostrils flared in irritation. Draco smiled to himself and gave your hand a quick squeeze, feeling proud that you found a way to talk back to her in the nicest way possible.

“Right, well, I’m sure you know this is; Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Pike, Flint, Nott, and...” Draco pointed to everyone, trailing off when he reached the only girl in the group, “I don’t think that one needs an introduction, she rather do it herself, right Parkinson?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving the blond a false squinty-eyed grin with attitude.

“So, you want us to be the nice to the Hufflepuff then?” Zabini questions, pointing a finger towards you.

“Yes, I want you to be nice to, Y/N,” Draco corrected again, his hand getting tighter in your grasp as he spoke. “That goes for all of you and everyone else in this bloody house. I don’t want to hear anything bad about her or us coming from anyone ever again or you’ll have me to answer to. I don’t care how friendly we are.”

“So he has to defend you too now?” Pansy spoke again, “Merlin, it’s a wonder how you Hufflepuff sort even survive in this world.”

Before anyone could say anything, you mustered up all the courage you had and stepped forward towards the irked girl in front of you.

“Listen, I don’t want any more trouble with you or anyone,” you rushed out. “I just want to go about my day without having to hear how disgusting and weak I am.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but Blaise put a hand in front of her and pushed her back before she got any closer to you.

“Alright, we’ll try,” he answered for the group quickly in an annoyed tone, “but I can’t promise that for the rest of Slytherin. They really don’t like you guys together, thinks it makes them look bad. Eventually, they’ll get tired of it and move on to the next.”

“That’s as good as its gonna get,” Goyle guffawed, Crabbe and Pike snickering alongside him.

You sighed, looking up at Draco and slightly tugging at his hand while you silently begged him to take you out of there but he didn’t catch the hint and instead did the complete opposite when he had turned towards the only boy in the group who seemed to have brains.

“Zabini, can I talk to you really quick?” He asked gruffly. Blaise deeply sighed and nodded, the two boys breaking away from the group and stopping a few feet away before talking in angry hushed voices to each other.

You - all of a sudden felt very small and sick, your eyes frantically bouncing around the group as they watched you squirm. Pansy took this as her chance to step closer towards you, stopping a few inches away from you while a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Since you obviously don’t see the bigger picture, I’ll paint it for you,” she began contemptuously, “you and Draco really don’t belong together, at all. Sure, you might think everything’s fine right now, but what’ll happen when he gets tired of defending you and proving you to everyone. You think Hogwarts is your problem? Just wait until you meet the Malfoy’s. Do you really think his father would like or even tolerate a filthy blood traitor like you?”

You gaped at her, taking a few shaky steps away from her as her words hit you like a truck.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” she gets in your face again, her hand reaching up to grip your shoulder tightly to hold you in place. “He needs to be with someone of his status, a pure-blooded Slytherin who comes from a good wealthy family who holds all the same beliefs as the Malfoy’s. If I were you, I’d end it before you ruin his life any more than you already have and end up leaving him without a family or his inheritance.”

“Are you trying to say that ‘someone’ should be you?” You question through gritted teeth, shrugging your shoulder hard out of her clawed grasp.

“I never said that,” she smiles, “but who am I to say it shouldn’t be?” 

Pansy tauntingly walked away from you, a smug look on her face as she noticed just how obviously she had hurt you. You wanted to run away and cry, but you held it together for the sake of your last remaining dignity and so that you wouldn’t please your assailant even more than you already have.

Draco turned to stroll back towards the group with Blaise, his eyes landing on your shuddering figure and the broken look in your eyes as they met his. He looked around at the rest of the group who were talking amongst themselves, unknowing to them that Parkinson had just ripped a new one on you. She stood around them, looking at her nails with an uninterested look in her eyes and when she felt Draco’s eyes on her, she looked up and smiled at him innocently. 

‘Bitch,’ you thought.

He slowly walked towards you, taking your hand and deeply frowning when you immediately slipped it out of his.

“What’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern, his sad gray’s searching your face for any answer as to why you were suddenly acting so cold.

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed out. “Alone.”

He nodded, instinctively reaching out for your hand only for you to reject it again. He felt queasy at the response, his heart falling to his stomach as you turned around and began walking away. His legs were moving hastily behind you, a dooming tension had fallen between the two of you and he couldn’t for the life of him find a reason why.

Pansy’s words were like a game of pinball on a constant loop in your mind. Your thoughts were bumping and flying haphazardly as you tried to make sense of them and what you were about to do. And as much as you hated to admit it - the wench was right. You would never be able to offer Draco and his family anything that would ever be close to enough. You were just a sweet, regular Hufflepuff, someone far from who his family expected to date. And what if you did end up staying with him? You figured you would end up breaking up years later when he would be forced to marry someone else. Or in the slight chance, he fought against that, there was no way you’d forgive yourself if he lost his family and his future because of your own selfish needs.

You stopped at an empty corridor, sitting at one of the windowsills you regularly sat at with the platinum blond when the two of you snuck out at night to meet each other. Your head fell into your hands, your thoughts raging louder in your head and now through your body as you began to unwillingly shake. The held back tears had finally broken out in a waterfall of sadness, frustration, and grief.

Draco only watched, his heartbreaking at the sight as he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees while he tried to figure out what to say.

“Darling, please tell me what’s gotten you like this,” he pleads sadly. “If it’s about what Blaise said, I made a deal with him so he would try and help.”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered, choking back the lump in a feeble attempt to try and get yourself calmed down enough to talk to him.

He sat back on his heels, his hand running down his face in distress as he racked through his brain for anything else that might have gotten you like this. He let you cry for a bit, feeling useless as he watched you go through an internal battle he had no clue about.

“Then what is it? Tell me and I’ll fix it,” he says softly when he saw your tears had finally been reduced to stray droplets on your face.

“You can’t,” you sniffle. Your hand weakly brushed over his paled slender fingers that were holding your knee gently. He turned his palm upwards for you and you placed your shaking hand in his while you basked in the final moments of his warmth. You regrettably slipped out of his grip before you spoke the words you couldn’t take back. “We can’t be together anymore.”

Draco blinked, his stomach dropping as soon as the words left your mouth. “What?”

You stood up, backing away from him as you shook your head. “Everyone was right - I’ll never be good enough for you, for your friends, for your family. You deserve to be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder.”

“Where did all this come from?” He asks incredulously, standing up from his spot on the floor as he painfully watched your slowly retreating figure. “It’s all rubbish is what it is. You’ve never made my life harder.”

“Draco, look around you!” You exasperated, your arms flailing around you. “You had to make a deal with your own friends for them to even be nice to me. Your house can’t stand me and they take it out on the both of us! And what about your parents? You know for a fact they would hate me, don’t even try and deny it.”

Pale hands ran through his hair, his fingers pulling at the platinum strands in frustration.

“I thought you didn’t care about all that,” he said woefully. “I thought you’d know by now none of it matters.”

“Well, I care now,” you answer back gloomily. “And you should too.”

There was a spinning and nauseating feeling in the pit of the Slytherin’s stomach, his heart violently jumping around in his chest as he let you storm away from him. 

He let his back fall against a pillar, a deep and burning exhale falling from his trembling lips while he stared at a live painting across from him. It was of three women, the chalices in their hands supposed to be joined in a toast above them while they smiled gleefully in celebration, 3 of Chalices, it read in the caption below the frame. Instead of being in their usual position, they stared at him with pity in their softly painted eyes as they slowly raised their cups towards him in a way of showing their condolences.

He nodded curtly at them before he kicked himself off the wall and dragged himself towards the Great Hall where they were serving dinner and where he would undoubtedly find his so-called friends. He prepared himself to break the news to them, knowing they would be over the moon about it and as much as he wanted to join them in their delight, he couldn’t push away the large ache that had settled itself in his chest.

“We’re done,” he muttered dreadfully to himself, “it’s over.”

He was testing out different ways he could tell everyone the long-awaited news but they all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I think you’ll all be delighted to know, Y/N-” he tried again but he lost his train of thought when he spoke your name. It was like taking an invisible kick to his heart as if Peeves the Poltergeist had somehow crawled into his body and was wreaking his usual havoc on his insides. 

The second he stepped into the Great Hall and saw his group sitting there, eating and laughing amongst everyone else, he felt sick all over again. There was no way he could stomach the triumph they were about to unleash, but he sucked it up and drudged towards them anyway.

“You look ghastly,” Pansy snickers, already having a feeling as to why he looked so rough. He stopped at the bench, hesitating to sit down because he knew he’d want to dash the second everyone started to relentlessly bash you.

“Deal’s off, Zabini,” the blond spoke lowly. “I’m not with Y/L/N anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re better off without her, Malfoy,” Blaise said delightedly. “Can’t believe you nearly had us associating with a blood traitor. It’s better that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, we ought to thank Pansy for that,” Crabbe laughed loudly through a mouthful of food. Pansy kicked his shin under the table, and he recoiled too fast, the food in his mouth getting shot in the wrong direction as he started choking.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, his eyes falling towards the shying girl. “What did Pansy do?”

“What?” Crabbe coughed roughly, “did no one else see her talking to the ickle Hufflepuff?”

Pansy kicked him again and he wailed out a “stop kicking me, you donkey!”

Any ounce of sadness Draco had in his body was immediately washed out in rage. He wanted to flip over the table and scream at everyone in his path, but he only turned towards Pansy again and asked her calmly.

“What did you say to her?”

“I only told her the truth!” She said coyly, holding her hands up in defense.

“What” his fist had slammed onto the table making everyone sitting near the contact jump in surprise, “did you say to her!”

“The truth! Or are you too blind to see it too?” She sneered at him. “Do you honestly think the two of you would last? Look at who you are, Draco!”

“Talk to me ever again and I swear I’ll hex you,” he spat, turning hot on his heel as he stormed out of the Great Hall, his friends staring at his retreating figure in shock at the outburst.

Draco found himself rushing through stairs and corridors, his heart racing as he searched for the place he just knew you’d be. Now that he knew the full story, he needed to talk to you. Even if you didn’t change your mind, he wanted to at least try to fix what had been broken. The tall and bronzed doors were ajar, a small light filtering through the dark corridor he was nearly running down. 

A mop of bright silver hair had peaked through the crack in the doors of the Hogwarts kitchen, worried gray eyes following in suit as they searched the room for its target. He found you hunched over a small dessert plate, a half-eaten cake being drenched in your tears that never seemed to stop. There was a house-elf next to you, looking up at you from the floor in concern while they patted your leg. 

“Mister!” a scraggly voice croaked out from below him. He looked down to find a rugged looking house-elf staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and hands on its hips. “Students are prohibited in the kitchen.”

“There’s a student right there,” he pointed towards you.

“She’s an exception!” the elf exclaimed wildly.

Draco shook his head before walking past the small creature, power walking straight towards you while it ran behind him.

“Wait till Gonpy tells the Headmaster about this!” The elf calls, “Gonby asks your name, sir!””

“Vincent Crabbe,” Draco answers mindlessly as he continued walking towards the far end of the room that very closely resembled the Great Hall and its vastness.

The familiar accent rang through your ears, your glassy eyes shooting up in surprise when you see the reason for your tears hurrying towards you.

“Before you say anything, you need to listen to me,” he starts desperately once he reaches you. “I know it was Pansy who put those thoughts into your head. I know you think you’re not enough for me. And I know you think I was always complimenting you out of pity, but you couldn’t be more wrong about any of that. I say all those things to you because I mean it. You are everything to me. You are more than enough for me just by being you. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been and sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough for you. But you need to understand how much I love you.”

“Draco,” you breathe, heart leaping in your chest at his rambling speech, “I love you too. But what about everyone else, how are we even supposed to be with each other in peace?”

“To hell with everyone else,” he responds quickly, walking around the edge of the table so that he was now only mere centimeters away from you. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you blink at him, “but do you really think your parents would let this happen?”

“We’ll deal with them when the time comes,” he mumbles, his hand finding its way to your puffy cheek where he let it rest. “Besides, my mother likes anything that makes me happy, so I know for a fact at least she will end up loving you just as much as I do.”

You nodded happily, a new hope bubbling in your stomach as you lurched towards him and hugged the stressed boy against you tightly. The both of you let out a breath of relief at the same time from the contact, finally feeling back in balance after the short-lived sorrow. 

He pulled away from you and leaned down into you, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss. That was when the elves you had forgotten about had quickly stopped eavesdropping, scurrying themselves away from the table as they went to start cleaning up the kitchen. 

It was minutes before you had finally pulled away, looking dreamily into the happy gray’s that gazed back at you. You admired him for a couple seconds, feeling very content before you reached up towards him again, tangling your hands in his hair and pressing another kiss onto his now swollen lips. He moved needily against you, pushing your body flush the table as he held you tightly against him.

“Ahem,” a small voice uncomfortably called out from below. It was the same elf who had chased Draco down the kitchen when he walked in, a frown on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Gonpy and the house-elves make food here!”

“I’m sorry, Gonpy,” you hurriedly apologize, ripping yourself away from a ragged breathing Draco as you bent down to shake hands with the elf. “Thank you for making me cake and letting me cry here, you’re a Hogwarts hero.”

“Gonpy thanks you, Miss Y/L/N! The truest, kindest Hufflepuff!” 

Draco bit back a smile at the interaction. You stood up and reached your hand behind you for the Slytherin to take and as the two of you walked away, he yelled out a quick, “Thanks Gonpy!”

And once the two of you were near the exit, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his body against your back, lowering his mouth towards your ear and kissing the skin right below it before whispering, “do you want to go back to my dorm?”

You nodded eagerly, giggling loudly as the two of you stumbled out of the door underneath his hold and into the dimly lit corridor before pulling apart and racing towards the direction of the dungeons with his hand interlocked in yours.

[fanfics4all]

Sobering Up

Request: Yes / No girl pls write more for draco including smut and fluff. im all for this man.. Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3298

Warnings: Smut!

Y/N: Your Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My cousin’s wedding was coming up and I no longer had a date. My now ex-boyfriend had been cheating on me with my roommate for a month before I caught them. My parents didn’t know that I had broken up with him, but they also didn’t know who he was yet. They were supposed to meet him at the wedding. We were going home in a week and I had to face my parents soon. I flopped down on the couch in the common room and groaned. “What’s got you all worked up?” Someone said and I looked up to see none other than Draco Malfoy, my best friend. “Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard Nathan cheated on me with my bloody roommate and now I don’t have a date to my cousin’s wedding.” I huffed and placed a pillow on top of my head, groaning once again. “Oh Y/N/N, I’m sorry.” He said sitting down next to me. “It’s alright, he really wasn’t worth it as you told me.” I gave him a small smirk. “So then what’s the problem?” He asked confused. “I told you, I don’t have a date for my cousin’s wedding! My parents were supposed to meet Nathan for the first time then and now they’ll just think I was lying to them!” I said and he chuckled slightly. “Just explain to them that the git cheated on you.” He shrugged and I shook my head. “My parents will just think I’m lying and that I never actually had a boyfriend in the first place.” I said and sighed. “So your parents don’t know anything about who your boyfriend is?” He asked with a raise of his brow. “No, why?” I asked, also raising my brow in confusion. “Well then, why don’t I just accompany you to the wedding and pretend to be your boyfriend?” He asked with a slight smirk. My eyes widened, why didn’t I think of that! “Draco! You’re a bloody genius!” I said and hugged him. “I know darling.” He laughed. “Are you sure you’re okay with this though? You really don’t have to.” I said, pulling away from him. “Of course, if I wasn’t I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t okay with it.” He chuckled again. “Good point.” I smiled. It was finally the night of the wedding and Draco had agreed to meet me at the venue. I was nervous that my parents wouldn’t believe we were dating, but I trusted Draco to sell it with me. “So Y/N, where is this boyfriend of yours?” My Mother asked. “He should be here soon.” I smiled, biting back my nerves. “Y/N!” I turned and saw Draco walking over to us and I smiled. “I’m sorry I’m a bit late, love.” He said and kissed my cheek. “You didn’t miss anything important.” I giggled. “Mother, Father, this is my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy.” I introduced him. “Darling, why didn’t you just tell us you were dating the Malfoy son?” My Father asked. “She probably wanted to keep it a surprise.” My Mother said with a huge smile. “It’s lovely to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N.” Draco said, shaking hands with my Father. “How are your parents? We haven’t seen them in a few years.” My Mother asked. “They’re both well, Father’s been busy with work and Mother is happy that we’re all back together for a few weeks.” He answered. “Well now that you two are dating, perhaps we can all get together for dinner soon.” My Father said. “I’ll talk to my parents, perhaps during this break.” Draco answered and I felt the nervousness returning. Would we have to fake our relationship for longer than just tonight? “Right, well we should probably go sit down before we miss the wedding.” I said. My parents nodded and walked off to their seats. “Your parents seem happy.” Draco commented as we followed. “Well of course they are, you’re a bloody Malfoy. I’ve just given them the best news in the world.” I sighed. “Then what’s wrong?” He asked confused. “What’s wrong is we might have to keep this up for the rest of our lives.” I sighed. “You’re exaggerating, love.” He chuckled as we sat down and I bit my lip. My stomach was doing flips at Draco’s new nickname, maybe this was a bad idea. The ceremony was absolutely beautiful. I could only hope my wedding was as beautiful as my cousin’s was. Now it was the best part, the reception! There was an open bar and Draco and I were allowed to drink. I always loved fire whiskey and I intended to drink my nerves away. Draco on the other hand, was not drinking as much as I was. 

“Love I think you should slow down, you don’t want to get too drunk and be the one to ruin the wedding.” Draco said and I sighed. 

“I suppose you’re right, however, I think we’re a little past that.” I giggled and he sighed with a small smirk. 

“Come on then, let’s find you a place to sober up a bit.” He said and helped me out of the large room. Draco walked me down a hall and leaned me against the wall. 

“Stay here, do not move.” He said and I nodded. Draco walked off and I started zoning out. Draco returned a few moments later and wrapped his arm around my waist. He led me further down the hall and stopped at a door. Draco pulled out a key and unlocked the door. The two of us walked into the hotel room and I collapsed onto the bed. 

“I got this room for the night, so you can sober up for a little then we can go back to the party.” He said and sat on one of the chairs. It was quite warm in the room and I also just wanted this dress off of me right now. I stood up and struggled to get it off me. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“It’s hot and I want this stupid dress off me!” I groaned and finally got it off. I laid back on the bed now in just my bra, underwear, and kicked off my heels. 

“Y/N, you should really cover up.” He said and I looked over with a smile. 

“Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked and saw he was looking away from me. 

“N-Nothing, but you shouldn’t be so exposed in front of me.” He said and had a slight pink tint on his cheeks. 

“You’re my fake boyfriend so I think it’s fine.” I shrugged and laid back down. Draco walked over and laid next to me. 

“So because I’m faking being your boyfriend, you think it’s alright for me to see your body?” He whispered in my ear. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to.” I whispered back. A smirk formed on his beautiful face. 

“Good girl.” He whispered and kissed my temple. Those simple words sent a shiver down my spine. Draco’s hand began to travel up my thighs, stopping when he reached my black lace panties. 

“Spread your thighs.” He demanded. I spread my legs slightly and rested my hands at my sides, not really knowing what to do with them. Draco began rubbing me through my panties, watching my face the entire time. I locked my eyes with his, lust growing more and more with each little movement. He was only lightly teasing me, but my panties were soaked with my arousal. 

“Take off your panties and hand them to me.” He said, taking his hand away. I frowned at the loss of contact. 

“Now, Y/N.” He said, only turning me on more. I shifted slightly and slowly slid them down my smooth legs. Draco began slowly running his hand up my side and towards my breasts. When I finally got my underwear off I handed them over to him and he smirked. 

“That’s my good girl. Now, try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?” He asked and I nodded. His hand slid back to my pussy and parted my lips, coating his fingers in my wetness. Two of his fingers began slowly making circles around my swollen clit. I bit my lip as I tried hard to contain myself. I had no idea what to do with my hands or where I should look, so I simply put my hands to my sides and closed my eyes, letting the intense pleasure wash over me. I felt his hands go lower and slowly pushed two fingers inside me. I gasped, not used to fingers other than my own. I couldn’t help but groan at the feeling. 

“Shh, we wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, now would we?” Draco said and I threw my head back and sighed. He began to push his fingers in and out of me as his thumb paid attention to my clit. As he picked up the pace I was getting closer, my hips rocked back and forth, accidentally letting out a few squeaks. I felt like I couldn’t breath, like Draco was stealing all my oxygen. I felt like I was on fire, like there was a heat building that couldn’t be controlled by anyone. I never felt like this before, never been pushed this far. Draco picked up the speed even more and I could no longer hold back. I lightly gasped for the air I couldn’t get into my lungs, gyrating my hips against the bed. Just as I felt my pussy clench Draco pulled his fingers out quickly. I cried out in disappointment, but before I could protest any further Draco pushed his fingers between my pouting lips. 

“Suck.” He simply said. I frowned, but slowly began sucking my own juices off of his fingers. I began lightly licking and when Draco removed his fingers, I rolled the taste of myself around in my mouth and realized I didn’t dislike it as much as I thought I would have. 

“Are you ready to receive your punishment?” He asked and I looked at him confused. 

“You weren’t quite like I told you to be.�� He cleared up and I bit my lip. 

“Yes sir.” I whispered and he smirked. 

“Get on your knees, love, kneel for me like a good girl.” He said sternly. I slowly slid off the bed and dropped down to my knees, not daring to question him. I smirked up at him slightly and spread my thighs as wide as I could then sat back on my heels, pushing my chest out. Draco smiled down at me. 

“Good girl.” He said simply as he brushed my shoulders pulling my hair behind me. I noticed his dick making a sizable tent in his pants and I knew he couldn’t hold back any longer. He bent down and grasped my chin. 

“You’re going to suck me off right now.” He said and let got on my face, straightened himself back out. 

“Undo my belt and pants, Y/N.” He stated. I slowly reached up and began unbuckling his black leather belt. I fumbled with the buttons on his pants as my hand shook slightly with anticipation. When I was done undoing his pants I slowly pulled them down his thighs. When I reached up and grasped the seams of his boxers I looked up into Draco’s eyes for approval. He simply nodded and smiled at me. As his boxers slid down his legs, his dick sprung out and bobbed up and down in front of me. Draco watched me as I unconsciously licked my lips at little as I stared at his huge member. 

“Start by licking me. Use your hands to play with my balls. Then-” I cup him off as I lunged forward eagerly and started lapping at his sensitive skin. I reached up and began gently fondling his balls as I slowly and lightly licked from his base to his tip. When I reached his head I licked around and sucked here and there. I pulled back slightly and wrapped my lips around the head of his dick glancing back up into his eyes through my lashes once again discreetly asking if what I was doing was okay. As I began sucking lightly on his dick, I swirled my tongue around and lapped at his dick hole, exploring what got him more excited. Draco groaned, reaching forward and grasping some of my hair.  

“Start bobbing your head up and down. Suck me and use your tongue to stimulate me even more.” He said. I slowly started taking in more of his shaft and was forced to widen my jaw a bit more. My tongue swirled around as much as possible as I began sucking lightly. As I came back up slowly I found I had more use of my tongue then. Draco let me slowly explore and find out what works for me. Once I fell into my own rhythm of sucking and lapping, he began using my hair to set my pace. He pulled and pushed me and I became more animated, sucking harder and slightly tugging on his balls more. He watched me as half his dick disappeared into my mouth and came back out. Draco slowed my pace down and slowly pushed his dick back into my mouth, watching every inch slowly disappear. He groaned as I sucked harder than I had before when I got back to the tip of his dick. Draco couldn’t hold back anymore and began to make the pace faster than I had expected. Draco began fucking my face and I struggled to keep up. Quickly though, I matched up and added more stimulation to please him. Draco pushed further and watched as I fought my gag reflex, I could tell he enjoyed the tears that began forming in my eyes. 

“Swallow, Y/N.” He demanded and I knew he would cum soon. I prepared myself and sucked harder and harder hoping to get him to cum hard. All of a sudden he grunted out loud and slammed his dick into my mouth as far as I could take it, gagging me. A hot stream of cum shot into my mouth and throat. I worked hard to swallow it all. Draco shot a large load and I let a few drops slip out of my mouth, dribbling down my chin. When Draco pulled out of my mouth he grabbed the base of his dick and held it back up to my lips. 

“Clean me. Lick up and down like you had when you started and get all the cum off me.” He said. I licked gently and soon sat back on my heels once more, awaiting the next command. He reached over and scooped up the remaining cum on my chin. Draco placed his fingers in front of my lips and I opened. I sucked the cum off his fingers and looked up into his passion filled eyes. Draco leaned down and placed the first passionate kiss onto my lips. Draco pulled back and I pouted, begging for more. 

“Are you horny?” He asked with a smirk. I nodded in response, not trusting my voice at the moment. 

“What should we do about that?” He wondered with a smirk. I groaned in response, it was obvious I was on fire. 

“Get on the bed on your back and spread your legs wide for me.” He said. I quickly moved into position and once again slightly began fidgeting with the lack of knowledge of what to do with my hands. 

“Place your hands flat against the bed, stretched towards your ankles. Do not move.” Draco instructed with a bit of a threatening tone. Draco got down on his knees in front of my pussy and coated his fingers in my wetness once again. I was leaking everywhere, already making a puddle on the bed. He didn’t waste any time and pushed two fingers into me hard. He began pumping his fingers in and out of me roughly at a fast pace. I arched my back and gasped slightly at the pressure. When Draco added another finger to the mix, circling my clit fast and hard, I couldn’t help but move my hands and moan loudly. Draco stopped rubbing my clit for a moment and grabbed my hands, pushing them together. 

“Lock them together.” He said quickly. Reaching into his back pocket he pulled out my black lace panties and balled them up in his hand. He bent over me and bit me on the neck. I let out a surprised gasp and Draco quickly shoved my soaked panties into my mouth, gagging me. 

“These will keep you quiet.” He stated with a smile as I yelled out a muffled protest. Draco went back down and began pumping his fingers faster after replacing his finger on my sensitive clit. As Draco continued roughly fingering me, he watched as I squirmed and went wild beneath him. I wasn’t able to control the bucking of my body, there was no stopping the orgasm that was approaching. I was getting close as I moaned back to back. Right as I was about to cum Draco picked up the pace just a little faster. I shut my eyes enjoying the pleasure Draco was giving to me. 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” He growled. My eyes shot up and looked straight at the man who was setting my body on fire. I screamed as everything hit me. My whole body tensed and I shook with pleasure. Draco kept pumping as my wetness leaked everywhere and I bucked beneath him. He kept pumping hard and fast as my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I screamed as loud as I could. When I finally came down from the greatest orgasm I’ve ever had I felt like I was on a cloud, weak but relaxed. Draco leaned over me and removed my panties from my mouth. He kissed me once more gently and then scooped me into his arms. He let me rest for a moment as my breathing went back to normal. I felt relaxed and safe as I buried my head into his chest. 

“Ready to go back?” He whispered softly. I could only nod my head. 

“Come on, let’s get you dressed.” He said and helped me get presentable. Draco grabbed my hand, but before we left the room I stopped him. 

“Where did all that come from?” I asked and he blushed. 

“Do you want me to be honest?” He asked and I nodded. 

“I’ve always fancied you Y/N, why do you think I offered to be your fake boyfriend?” He asked and my eyes widened, but I smirked. 

“Are you saying the great Draco Malfoy has a crush on me?” I teased slightly and he rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, let’s get back to the party.” He grumbled, but I stopped him once again. 

“I fancy you too Draco, who do you think I let you take control?” I whispered in his ear and pulled back with a smirk. His face was shocked to say the least. My smirk grew and I walked out of the room. 

“Well, are you coming or not?” I called and heard him rush to catch up with me. 

“You planned all that?” He asked shocked and I smirked. 

“The party was getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” I asked and he smirked.

 “You weren’t drunk, were you?” He asked. 

“Suppose you’ll never know.” I said and pulled him onto the dance floor. I believe it’s safe to say that we were no longer faking our relationship. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @dracoswhvre​

[lokissuper]

Reunion| Dean Winchester x Reader

(So I made a post about this a while ago, this specific idea. Now that im starting to get into writing I thought why not do it myself. So, in this Dean and the reader are dating but also have a kid together. Also, the reader is like a daughter to john so he sees her as so. thx xxoo i will always take feedback and support since im new to this)

-

“Dean! Sam! I’m home,” I yelled when entering the bunker.

Walking down the steps from the door I saw that they around the table in the library. Dead sitting there drinking a beer and Sam looking down at something in his hands, I spoke again, “ Is that it? The thing that is gonna save Dean.”

“Yeah,” Sam said looking at me then over to Dean, “Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom or wait for Cas?”

Dead stood up,” No. If this mojo works like you say, that’s great. But if not...why get their hopes up? I mean you and Y/n being here is fine, I just don’t wan’t you getting your hopes up either.” Dead looked at me then back at Sam, I nodded at him for an okay.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered, “Just hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires.” 

Dean was handed the pearl, “Michael outta my head. Got it.” Picking up the pearl he looks at me for assurance. 

“It’s gonna be fine baby, if it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out,” I nodded at him again. 

He looked down at the pearl and closed him eyes shut, and squeezed the pearl in his hand. The electricity crackled, and Sam and I looked at each other as Dean eyes open again. The lights in the bunker turned red, “What the hell?” I spoke quietly. As Sam turned around he saw a dark figure and he lunged at it, me following behind him. The figure punched Sam and I attacked from behind along with Dean, we got a couple of hits in before the mysterious person knocked us to the ground. I groaned, hitting the wood floor but I got over it soon as I heard a gun cock.

“Don’t you move,” the dark figure threatened. 

We all looked at each other then the lights turned back on, we looked up at the man before us. I saw Deans eyes widened and I took a sharp intake of breath, same as Sam.

“Dad?” Dean asked in question.

“John?” I whispered.

The older Winchester looked in question at the three of us on the floor. He finally spoke up,” Dean? Sam? What in the hell? Y/n?” He looked around himself, puzzled at what he found. Sam and Dean slowly got up, Dean helping me up too. 

John continued to speak,”Sammy. Aren’t you supposed to be in Palo Alto?” 

“Palo Alto?” Sammy repeated, looking taken aback by the words.

“What happened to you,” John questioned.

Dean and I still staring at the exchange, Dean finally spoke up,” What year is it?”

John scoffs at us,” Its 2003.” I took a tiny step toward him, the man who raised me. “John, it’s 2019,” I spoke in shock.  He looked skeptical at all of us, not believing the words that were just said.  

“No. How?”

Sam started to sound a little louder, finally finding his voice,” We, uh, I think we summoned you.”

He looked at us like we were crazy,” You guys better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” We nodded at him, actually moving at this point.

“I think we should sit down.” I looked at him.

-

We had made our way to the kitchen and sat down at the table, finally able to catch our breaths after what just happened. Dean and I grabbing some alcohol knowing it would be needed for the future conversation. I knew in the back of my head that Mary was gonna come home soon, and it would be an emotional mess. She had left earlier with Dean and I’s son, wanting to have a day with him.

Dean and I made our way into the kitchen setting down the whiskey and some glasses. Finally sitting down, Dean poured all of us a glass getting ready to talk. 

After telling John about what happened after Yellow-Eyes, sparing the details about Mary and our son. He sat back to take it in, a moment later he spoke,” So, you saved the world? More than once?”

We nodded.

“Then its all true. God, the Devil, and you kids smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with an angel and Lucifer’s kid.” John said, mind boggled.

“Yeah.” We all spoke together.

“And you’ve done this whole time travel thing before?” John asked.

“A few times,” I looked at him. Dean nodded to my words, finding words himself,” Actually, our grandfather, your dad he’s the one that helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know your finally here.”

They started to talk about the Men of Letters and how Dean and Sam were legacies. John not being able to believe how much we have been through, he spoke” I just wish that I had been there to see it. I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? Get the thing that killed Mom.” He sipped on his drink nodding. All of us looking at each other, Sam and Dean finally catching on to the fact Mary could be home any minute. Just as Sam was going to tell John, we heard two pairs of footsteps. 

“ Mommy!” I heard a tiny voice yell. I then saw my sons little face peak out and run towards Dean and I.

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” I smiled at the small child in my arms. 

“Yeah, me and Nana went shopping,” He spoke back to me.

John looked between me and the 4 year old in my arms. He spoke lowly,” Mommy? You have a kid?”

“Yeah, he’s your grandson.” I heard my boyfriend spoke from beside me.

John got teary eyed, “What’s his name? How old is he?”

“His names John Robert Winchester, after you and Bobby. But we do call him Johnny from time to time. Why don’t you show your Papa how old you are?” I asked with tears starting to grow in my eyes too.

Johnny lifted up his fingers showing the number four. I laughed and so did John,” That’s good.”

John smiled at his grandson, but it faltered when he heard a second voice coming from the hallway.

“Sam? Dean? Johnny?” Mary’s voice shouted.

Johns eyes got soft,”Mary?” He turned around at saw Mary standing in the doorway. They locked eyes with each other and they walked toward one another, sharing a kiss. I looked at Sam and Dean nodding at the door, trying to say we should give them some time.

-

I departed from the boys so I could go into mine and Deans room with Johnny. I still couldn’t believe that John was back and how happy Dean must be. It was all he ever wanted, I couldn’t count how many times he told me he wished he could just have one night with his family again. I looked down at Johnny in my arms and smiled.

“Mommy, who was that man with Nana?” he asked me.

I set him down on the bed and sat in front of him.,” That was your grandpa John. I told you that you were named after your Papa, right?” Johnny nodded at me. “Well that was him. Him and Nana are like me and your Daddy.” I spoke to him. 

Dead then walked into the room locking eyes with me. “Hey buddy,” Dean spoke softly to his son. Johnny looked at me and then at his Dad, “Is Papa John here to meet me Daddy?”

Dean looked at Johnny and smiled, kneeling down beside me he said,” Your grandfather travels all over the world and is very busy. He has always wanted to meet you, and now he finally is able to see you.”

Johnny smiled,” Can I go see him?” Dean and I nodded at the happy child sitting in front of us. Dean stood up and told me that he was gonna go check up on his Mom, and that I could bring Johnny to John. 

I walked through the hallways into the Library and saw that John was looking at the books on the shelves. I set Johnny down, and at the noise John turned around. I looked at him in the eye and smiled, Johnny walked over to his grandpa. “Mommy told me that I was named after you,” Johnny spoke up to John. He nodded to his grandson,”Seems that way doesn’t it.”

I walked up to John and said to him,” He is just like Dean in so many ways and with that I can see some of you too. Mostly the stubbornness. ” He smiled at me, and brought me into a hug. I grinned wrapping my arms around him, I heard him say,” It was about damn time you and Dean got together.” I laughed and pulled myself away from him.

“Yeah, I think after what happened with Yellow Eyes it brought us closer together. He tried to pull himself away like he always does but I wouldn’t let him, and I think that’s what caused us to get together.” I sighed but continued on,” We were dating 8 years and then had Johnny, it still blows my mind four years later and we are still going strong.” John smiled at me.

He looked down at Johnny but still spoke to me,” After 12 years and he still hasn’t popped the question. God, I’m gonna need to get on him about that.” I laughed at him. John looked down at Johnny and spoke to him,” You have the best mother and father in the world. Don’t you forget that.” 

Johnny nodded his head,” I know. They always tell me you are the best like Nana.” John looked at me and smiled. 

“No, your Nana is better than me in every way.” John laughed at the little boy, me laughing along with him.

I looked over at John,” Do you know where Sam went?” 

“Him and Dean were gonna head out and grab some stuff for that casserole Mary likes to make,” he responded.

I nodded. 

I bent down toward Johnny and spoke lightly, “How about you and Papa John go and hang out for a while.”

Johnny smiled wide,” Okay!”

He grabbed his grandfather by the hand and led him away. I smiled softly at the image now burned in my brain.

-

“I can’t believe this, we just got him back Dean.” I spoke sternly. “Johnny finally met his grandfather.”

Dean had pulled me aside when him and Sam got back explaining how everything is changing now that John was back.

“I know. But there is something else too,” He looked down at his feet. I looked at him sternly.

“What else?” I asked.

Dean took in a sharp breath before continuing on,” If he stays, it is gonna be like Mom was never here. It’s because we would have never clashed heads with God or the Darkness.” I got teary eyed and tried to say something but Dean held up his hand. He began to speak again,” Also, if he stays Sam thinks that Johnny’s gonna go too. Like you and I never got together because we only ever got together because of Dads death. I already talked to Dad about it.”

I started to silently cry thinking about not having Johnny and not being with Dean. As the tears were falling down my face I asked,” What did John say?”

He pulled me to his chest,”He said that he’s okay with going. That there is no way he is gonna be the reason his grandson can’t grow up, or Mom not being alive again.”

I looked up at him crying harder now, seeing he starting to shed tears too. 

“This sucks,” I said.

“I know, but it’s what he wants.” Dean responded.

I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips then nodded, “Okay.”

Dean then pecked mine back before saying, “ I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

-

We had sat down for dinner, something I knew Dean had always wanted. It was hard to avoid the inevitable but it was good to just be carefree for a while. 

When it was time for John to go back, I had Johnny say goodbye before telling him to go to his room. Me and Dean still not wanting him to be exposed to magic yet. 

Dean, Sam, John, Mary and I all stood in a circle together, ready to see him off. All of us teary eyed and trying to hold in sobs. 

Mary was the first to speak up, “I hate this.”

In which John responded, “So do I.”

John then began to talk to all of us,” Okay.” Looking over at Mary he spoke,”My girl. I miss you so damn much.” Before they kissed each other, for the last time. John then looked at the boys,” You two. You take care of each other.” 

Sam responded,” We always do.”

Dean spoke lightly, “It’s good to see you Dad.”

John sniffled, looking between his sons, “ I am so proud of you boys.” He then turned to me, seeing me there crying.

“And you, I am so proud of the woman you have become. Your no longer that little teenager anymore.” he spoke wiping his eyes before looking between Dean and I.

“You guys deserve each other and that little boy in there. I never thought I would see the day where Dean would grow some balls and ask you out but, here we are,” he said as we all laughed. “You guys take care of that boy, you here me,” John continued.

He then looked sternly at Dean,” If I have to come back just to make sure you finally ask this woman to marry you, I will.” 

We all laughed again. John then leaned forward and brought the three of us into a hug. 

“I love you guys so much.”

Dean sniffled before saying,”We love you too.”

John pulled away telling us he was ready.  He looked at us all one last time, before Sam broke the pearl. We watched as the man we all loved faded away.