#with warf it feels like he wants to teach you how to play
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I dreamt darkstache were fencing each other. I watch enchanted and I step in and warfstache lets me duel darkiplier. and thats when the enchantment lifts, because I realize I do not know how to fence, and I am up against darkiplier. so I pathetically swing my lance to no avail, and then he approaches, and I wake up immediately as evasion. so far I dont fw them markiplier bitches in my dreams unless theyre frozen or far away
#I have a few other dreams saved but this is my favorite now#darkstache#darkiplier#fencing is a really neat hobby#I can imagine colonel and damien doing that somehow#with warf it feels like he wants to teach you how to play#but with dark its just scary#dreams#mypost#markcu
13 notes
·
View notes
Photo
6. Draco Malfoy - Rainy Nights, Warm Drinks
*Warning - smut*
“I want you.”
“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.”
Draco’s p.o.v
  Loud chatter filled the jam-packed dining hall as students discussed their Christmas plans while their grubby hands reached for the feast laid out before each house. My gray-blue eyes stared blankly at the turkey and sides that touched my plate, my fork picking at whatever it could reach without me moving too much. I was counting down the moments that led up to Dumbledore clinking his fork against his glass that would dismiss everyone from Hogwarts, sending them home. Each single tick drove me crazy as I shook my leg, desperately pleading for time to move faster. At the end of this feast, everyone would be on the train heading to their families, while I would finally get to see the one person that I couldn’t get off my mind. Even now, the only thing I could think about was seeing her beautiful face and hearing her soothing, angelic voice, tuning out the voices of my friends.
  “Draco? Earth to Draco!”
  Pansy’s voice sliced right through my current thoughts involving my plans after school. Blinking a few times, I turned my head to see Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Pike, and Nott staring at me. While Pansy stared at me with concern, the guys stared at me skeptically.
  “What?” I muttered, dully.
  “Pansy asked you what you were doing during the break,” Blaise informed, taking a sip from his cup.
  “Yeah,” Pansy agreed, “I was thinking you and I could go on a date since we won’t be in school.”
 A date? I had broken up with Pansy a year ago with the excuse that dating her had become boring, which it had, however, the real reason I left Pansy was because I had fallen in love with another girl. The whole thing had torn me up since day one because I hadn’t believed that I, the Slytherin Prince, could have fallen for a muggle, and yet I did. After a whole week of thinking about it and running everything carefully through my mind, I finally decided that I didn’t love Pansy and needed to end it with her before things got too serious.
  “I won’t be returning home this Christmas,” I stated, “Dumbledore has asked me to stay and help tutor some second years in potions.”
 “That’s ridiculous!” Pansy sneered, “it isn’t your job to teach those brats.”
  “You’re dad’s okay with that?” Nott asked, a smirk playing on his lips.
  “He wasn’t at first but once Dumbledore told him that I was the highest ranking student when it came to potions, he settled down and decided that I’d make a great leader for those snot nose brats,” I spoke, pride dripping from my lying tongue.
  Of course, staying at Hogwarts wasn’t a complete lie, it was just not the full truth. For the first four days of break, I’d be staying with Maggie and her Grandmother then I’d come back to Hogwarts to help out with tutoring, and it’ll keep going like that until school starts again. It was an agreement that I had worked out with Dumbledore after he found out about Maggie, which if I’m being honest, I’m not even sure how he found out.
  “And you’re okay with it?” Blaise asked, amused.
  “Doesn’t matter to me,” I muttered.
  I looked back down at my plate, feeling their eyes still watching me but not paying attention to it. Eventually, Dumbledore stood up from his seat and clinked his silverware against his wine glass. The chatter stopped immediately as everyone turned their impatient attention to the headmaster. Excitement was bursting through my chest, something I never thought I’d ever feel for a girl like Maggie. Dumbledore started by wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and happy holiday, then proceeded in telling everyone what to expect when they got back from break. We were expected to practice and prepare for our O.W.Ls that were coming up, which Umbridge decided to announce after interrupting Dumbledore. I may have pretended to like Umbridge and do as she said to appease my friends, but in all honesty, I hated her more than I hated anyone else.
   After all of Dumbledore and Umbridge’s talking, the feast disappeared from our tables and it was time for everyone to head to the train. I saw my friends on the train. Pansy turned around.
  “Well maybe I can stay here with you, so you aren’t alone,” she offered.
 Annoyance broke out across my face, “I’ll be fine, Pansy. I’m not interested in spending time with you anyway, so you’ll just be alone.”
  She started pouting while the other snickered behind her back. Scoffing, she stormed past everyone onto the train. I waved goodbye to the others and they followed after Pansy to the cart. Those leaving for the Christmas holiday were finally headed towards the platform and those who would be staying at Hogwarts for the vacation headed back towards the school.
As I was approaching the entrance, I saw Dumbledore standing there waiting for me, a smile on his face.
  “Good evening, Mr. Malfoy,” he stated, “have you gotten your belongings together?”
  “My bag is sitting in my room,” I replied.
  “Once you collect it, go to Hagrid’s. He’ll be waiting for you there to help you get to the muggle world. Have a safe trip.”
  With that, Dumbledore walked away allowing me to go fetch my belongings.
I grabbed my trunk out of my dorm room and carried it all the way towards Hagrid’s small hut just a little ways from the school. Hagrid was outside playing fetch with his large hound as I finished walking towards him. Immediately, he looked up after tossing the rather large stick across the field.
  “Malfoy,” Hagrid said, “what brings you here?”
I raised an eyebrow. He was kidding, right?
  The big oaf laughed heartily and patted my shoulder with his gorilla sized hand.
 “I’m messing, is all,” he bellowed, “let’s get a move on it before anyone notices.”
 Hagrid opened the door to his home and gestured me inside. Sitting on the table when he opened the door was a thick, black bag filled with dark, gray powder. Hagrid scooted around me and picked up the black bag before meeting my gaze. This was awkward for me, and I knew he could tell but fortunately he didn’t say anything to make it worse. Instead, he told me that the floo network would take us to Diagon Alley and we’d have to walk through another entrance into the muggle world. From there we’d take a wizard bus, which I found odd, straight to Maggie’s farmhouse just on the outskirts of London. However, I grew bored with being explained the plan and just wanted to get there already.
   I went through the floo network first and waited for Hagrid patiently for a moment. Once he was standing by my side, he took my luggage and walked with me through Diagon Alley. We both walked through the less populated parts of Diagon Alley until the two of us reached a dead end. Hagrid tapped his umbrella against the wall in a pattern and they started pulling apart revealing the empty alley of the muggle world. The smell was different from the one back in the wizarding world. I could definitely smell freshly mown grass, but there was an oil smell mixed in too. As Hagrid and I walked past all of the people and shops that adorn the streets, I could smell pastries, coffees, and other foods that I recognized. I could feel the inside of my mouth water.
We waited on the sidewalk near a coffee shop for what seemed like forever before a bus came to a sudden stop in front of us. No one seemed to notice its incredible speed.
  “Why hello there, Hagrid,” said a frail, stubbled face man wearing a purple suit.
  “Hello to you too, Stan Shunpike,” Hagrid laughed, “starting work a bit early, aren’t you?”
  Shunpike gave a crooked smile and nodded his head before gesturing us on. I went to grab my trunk when Shunpike grabbed it instead, pushing me inside. The smell was something to gag at. It smelled worse than anything I could imagine. Hagrid took a seat.
  “Aren’t you going to have a seat, Malfoy?” He questioned.
 “No, I’d rather stand,” I muttered, disgust lacing my voice.
  “Where to?” Shunpike asked.
  Hagrid gave the address and Shunpike looked at us confused.
  “That’s a muggle household.”
   “Not completely,” Hagrid said, “Loral Belle is the homeowner, Dumbledore’s friend.”
  A slow nod bounced off his thin shoulders and sat down.
  “Ernie, you know where to go.”
As soon as the knight bus took off, the speed pushed me back. Not even my grip was strong enough to keep me in place and I ended stumbling backwards until Hagrid’s large hand grabbed ahold of me. I pretty much clung to Hagrid’s large arm as we whirlwind through the busy streets of London. Two trucks stood in the way of the bus and I thought we’d slow down. However, we didn’t. Instead, the bus warfed itself so that it was thinner and we slid right through the small crack separating the two muggle vehicles. It wasn’t long before we reached the dirt road that led to Maggie’s farmhouse. Hagrid paid Shunpike and told him that there was extra in it for him if he waited for him and kept this visit a secret. Shunpike agreed with a large smile on his face.
    Hagrid grabbed my trunk and led the way to Maggie’s. He tried to make small talk with me as we hiked down the dirt road, but neither one of us knew what to say to each other.
 “How did you meet her?” He finally asked, catching my attention.
 “My father had some work to do with an old, retired friend,” I said, all of the memories flooding back to my mind, “I saw her sitting by the fountain reading a book when a group of guys started harassing her. I watched her try to get away from them, failing miserably, so I stepped in despite her being a muggle. A gentleman never lets a woman get pushed around. She already knew I was a wizard when I helped her, she said that her Grandmother had taught her to tell the difference from a young age. The more I talked to her, the more I liked being around her.”
  A goofy smile appeared on his face, “she sounds like an amazing young woman.”
  “She is.”
  Sitting on the porch when we got there was Grandma Loral rocking back and forth while a red scarf was being knitted next to her in the air. When she saw us, a smile appeared on her face and she climbed to her feet, approaching us at the edge of her porch.
  “Hagrid,” she greeted, “it’s been years.”
  “Nice to see you too, Loral,” Hagrid said, “I wish I could stay long, but I’m only here to drop off Mr. Malfoy. I’ll see you in four day.”
 I looked up at Hagrid, “thank you, Hagrid.”
If I didn’t know any better, which I didn’t, I could have sworn I saw tears in Hagrid’s eyes. He tried to push it away and claimed that dirt had gotten in his eye, but I knew the truth. No one was use to me being so nice, and seeing me do so meant to them that I was finally deciding things on my own and not because my father wanted them. Just like my decision to continue seeing a muggle. Grandma Loral and I waved goodbye to Hagrid, once he was gone, Grandma Loral sat back in her seat.
  “Maggie’s in the garden out back,” she said smiling, “thank you for coming, Draco. I know that the decision couldn’t have been easy.”
  “Actually,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck, “it was the easiest choice I’ve ever had to make in my life.”
  Grandma Loral told me to head back there and she’d take care of my trunk. Nodding, I walked down the steps and headed down the cobblestone path to find Maggie sitting underneath a tree reading a book. Dozens of flowers of all shapes and colors surrounded her and blew in the breeze. Her brown, curled locks of hair brushed delicately against her freckled face. She was as beautiful as the day I first saw her. I walked over to her and smiled at how deeply invested she was in her novel.
  “Mind if I sit?” I asked.
 Her body jerked and her head whipped around to see me standing there with a smirk on my face. A large grin stretched against her face from ear to ear before nodding eagerly. As soon as my body was positioned next to her, she threw her arms around me and squeezed tightly.
  “I’m so happy to see you,” she said, releasing me from her tight grip.
  “I’m happy to see you too, Maggie,” I said, “how have you been?”
 “I’ve been fine. Things have been a little difficult lately.”
When I asked her why, a sad expression came to her face. I thought maybe she was being bullied more, but as she explained, I realized that it wasn’t that. Grandma Loral was getting sick and it was getting worse and worse. Maggie was worried that she’d lose her grandmother and have no one once she’s gone. I touched her hand and told her it was going to be okay. She looked up at me.
  “How have you been?” She asked, her smile trying to distract me from her growing tears.
  I told her about Umbridge and my family, she never looked away from me and held on to my hand the way I held on to her’s when she told me about her Grandma. It seemed we were both going through some stuff right now and all we wanted was for someone to talk and relate to.
The remainder of the day moved quicker than I had hoped. Maggie was now in the kitchen cooking up some soup for dinner while I set up the dining table. From the kitchen, the two of us could hear Grandma Loral coughing up a storm. Maggie grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and brought it to her grandma before returning to finish dinner.
   After supper, Maggie helped her grandma to bed before joining me in the living room with two glasses of hoto cocoa. Rain started to drum against the roof of the farmhouse, lightning slashing against the darkened sky and thunder rolling across the heavy clouds. With each passing second, the rain got harder and louder. I sipped on my warm beverage and looked at Maggie. She had whipped cream sitting above her lip and I laughed causing her to look at me.
  “What?” She asked, an innocent smile dancing on her face.
  “You’ve got some whipped cream on your lip,” I chuckled, leaning forward and wiping it away with my thumb.
  A small red tint appeared on her face as she tried to avoid eye contact with me. I could tell she was embarrassed and I found it to be more attractive than ever. I scooted closer to her and she looked at me.
  “Draco, is everything okay?” She asked.
  “I love you,” I blurted out.
 Her bright green orbs widened in shock and I started to regret saying anything to her. I looked away from her, but she grabbed my shoulder, pulling it to face her.
  “I love you too,” she hummed.
Before I could stop myself, I smashed our lips together, saying a silent prayer that neither of us were holding that hot beverage. The kiss deepened and I pulled her into my lap, gripping her waist tightly to keep her in place. When we pulled away, she was panting from the lack of air, her lips red and slightly swollen from the heated kiss. I leaned down and started nibbling on her neck, earning a small whimper from her.
  “D-Draco,” she gasped.
  I unattached my lips from her warm flesh and peppered her jaw with kisses before reaching her ear.
  “I want you, Maggie.”
 Her body shivered at my words and I smirked. Maggie was gripping onto my blazer tightly.
  “But I-”
  “Shh,” I cooed, “I’ll be gentle.”
  I waited for her to give me the signal to continue. When her head nodded, I laid her down on the cushioned couch and began kissing her again. I traced my tongue against her bottom lip and tasted the cherry lip gloss she had coated her plump lips with after dinner. My fingers squeezed her thigh and she gasped, giving me full entrance to the inside of her mouth. I slipped my tongue into her warm, wet mouth and our tongues fought over dominance, however, Maggie’s submissive side kicked in and she let me take control easily. Quiet moans spilled from her muffled mouth. When I pulled away from her, a small string of saliva pulled from both of our lips. A rosy tint illuminated off her face and her green eyes were hazy, her floral shirt was pulled up, revealing her black, laced bra.
  “Fuck,” I hissed, my pants growing tighter at the sight of her coming undone from my touch.
Pulling myself up, I removed my blazer and tie before unbuttoning my white, dress-up shirt. Her glistening eyes watched my every move, widening at the sight of my bare chest. She started nibbling on her bottom lip as I pulled at the hem of her shirt.
  “Let's get this off,” I muttered, my voice husky and dripping with arousal.
  Maggie didn’t argue, she just pulled her shirt above her head revealing more of herself to me. I groaned as I leaned down and started sucking on her exposed skin, leaving wet kisses against her porcelain skin. Her heartbeat was pounding against her chest, her skin was heating up, and her fingers gripped the couch cushion. I reached behind her and unclipped her bra clasp. Immediately, her hands moved to cover herself up. I lifted her chin.
   “Don’t hide yourself, baby girl,” I whispered, “let me see you, please.”
  “Okay,” she whispered.
She allowed me to remove her bra from her small body and I tossed it to the side with the rest of our clothes that littered the living room floor. I pressed my lips against hers once again, my left hand gripped her left breast and I almost melted at the feeling of her perfectly soft, fleshy breast. Her pink, peachy nipples hardened from both the cold air and my calloused hands pinching at them. Her moans were becoming louder, but not too loud since her grandmother was sleeping.
   “Draco, please,” she moaned, her hips moving against my own.
  “What is it?” I moaned back, “what do you need, baby girl? Tell me.”
   “I-I need you. Please.”
Those words turned me on even more. I unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them off, her black matching panties hugged her hips. I hooked my fingers to her lacy panties, pulling them down and revealing her perfect pink cunt. My pants were becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second, so I quickly removed them from my body, discarding them to the floor with the rest of the pile. I started kissing her breast, sucking on her nipples, and tracing open mouth kisses against her body until I reached her lower area. The sweet aroma coming from her was intoxicating and I felt drunk from the scent alone.
   I traced my tongue against her already soaking slit causing her to shiver and moan. My tastebuds were coated with her delicious nectar and I couldn’t help but dive in quickly. Her small fingers tangled themselves into my gelled hair, messing up every strand. A list of moans echoed off the walls as I flicked my tongue hungrily over her clit. Maggie tried to close her legs, but I pinned them back down. My gray-blue eyes flickered up, meeting her lustful orbs. She was covering her mouth because she was becoming too loud. Careful not to hurt her, I slipped a single finger between her folds and she flinched. I stopped.
   “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “do you want me to stop?”
  “N-no, it’s okay,” she panted, “i-it’s all just a n-new experience.”
  Nodding, I went back to lapping up her flowing juices and started entering my finger again. This time it slipped in with ease. A few seconds passed and I added another finger, moving them slowly in and out of her.
 “D-Draco, faster.”
I didn’t waste time and started moving my fingers faster and faster into her sex. Her back arched off the couch, I could feel her clenching around my fingers and I could tell she was getting closer and closer to her release. I started sucking on her swollen clit and she yelped out before cumming all over my fingers. I removed them from her then placed them in my mouth, sucking every last drop off of them. Groaning against my fingers, I pulled them out with a pop.
  “Delicious,” I hummed, watching her chest move rapidly as she caught her breath, “have a taste.”
   I captured her lips with mine and rummaged my tongue around her warm mouth. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head making me smile at how undone she looked for me. I pulled away.
  “Doesn’t that taste amazing, sweetheart?” I whispered in her ear.
  All she could do was nod her head. Sweat was beaded against her forehead and her hair was starting to cling to her face, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
  “Ready?” I asked, “and use your words for me.”
  “I-I am,” she muttered, “I-I’m ready.”
  Climbing on top of her, I aligned my hardened member with her entrance before pushing it, peppering kisses against her face as she cried out in pain. Once I was finally nestled inside of her aching cunt, I stayed there to let her adjust to my size. A minute passed by when she gave me the okay to move, then I started moving my hips at a slow pace. Every time I pulled out and pushed back in, I felt myself get squeezed around.
  “God damnit!” I groaned quietly, “so fucking tight. It feels amazing, Maggie.”
  “D-Draco, you’re s-so…” she couldn’t even finish her sentence.
  I started moving faster and harder with each stroke and both of our moans filled the room along with the sound of our sweaty skin slapping against each other. Despite the noise coming from us, we remained quiet enough so we didn’t wake up Grandma Loral.
   Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as I started snapping my hips harder to meet hers. I grabbed her chin with my right hand and pulled her head to meet mine, my lips feathering over her. Her warm breath fanning over my chapped, slightly parted lips.
  “Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby,” I said strictly.
  Maggie’s eyes opened and our eyes stared at one another as I drilled into her repeatedly. Her nails raked into my back causing me to growl at the stinging pain. I lifted one of her legs over my shoulder for a better position, my cock now going deeper into her sweet sex.
   “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned, resting my forehead against her, never tearing my eyes away from hers.
  “Oh my God,” she said.
  “Feel good, huh sweetheart,” I praised, “you love being fucked like this.”
I didn’t want to take it too far, afraid that me being rough or even degrading her would cause her to push me away. She was sensitive. But Maggie seemed to love my words and nodded her head furiously as she started meeting my thrust.
  “Yeah you do, fucking slut.”
  Her moans were like music to my ears and I could feel her tightening around my throbbing cock. I wrapped my hand around her throat, not too tightly, her free hand gripping my arm as I practically slammed into her with inhuman speed. I didn’t know what came over me, but everything felt intoxicating and I felt energy rushing through me.Â
  “I-I’m going to cum,” she whimpered.
  “Then do it,” I growled against her lips, “cum.”
 Her body started shaking as pure pleasure rushed over her small form. I watched her emerald eyes roll to the back of her head as I continued to slam into her, riding out her high. Our moans got louder, and we didn’t care that we were being loud. If we got caught, we got caught. All that mattered to me was watching her, being with her, loving her.
My thrust started getting sloppy as I felt myself coming to my end. I removed my hand from her throat, letting her lungs collect the well needed air, and buried my head into her sweaty neck. With a few final, strong thrust, I came inside her dripping cunt and moaned in her ear, or more like growled with pleasure. Her body shivered at the sound as she knotted her fingers in my hair. My body collapsed onto her, our chest heaving up and down as we tried to settle down. Once our breathing returned to normal, I pulled myself out of Maggie and laid next to her. I looked at her.
  “Sorry,” I whispered, as I tiredly chuckled, “I didn’t mean to finish inside you.”
She giggled and shook her head, “it’s okay. I’m on birth control, so it’ll be fine.”
  I smiled at her and leaned down to pick up my dress-up shirt. It was cool to the touch and as I cleaned up the mess on Maggie, she closed her eyes enjoying the welcoming, cold cloth. After I cleaned the both of us up with my shirt, I laid back down. Lightning flashed against the sky once again as a loud rumble of thunder hit the clouds. Maggie sat up and cracked the window open, the cool breeze washing over our sweaty bodies. I pulled her into my arms and nuzzled against her.
  “I love you, Maggie,” I whispered.
  “I love you too, Draco,” she said, “now and forever.”
Forever, huh?
  A smile appeared on my face as I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep next to the one girl I would sacrifice everything for. All of the thoughts that once invaded my mind, the unsureness of being with a muggle, how my father would act once he found out, all of it, disappeared. The only thought left was how I would protect her from Voldemort, and if she would still be by my side when she found out I was destined to be a death eater. But all of that could wait. I wanted nothing more than to enjoy the next four days with her.
I’ve never felt so relaxed before.
Forever sounds nice.
#draco malfoy#draco smut#draco imagine#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy smut#draco#malfoy#muggle#harry potter#harry potter smut#smut#dm stories#hp smut#draco fluff#draco fanfiction
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Positionality is the notion that personal values, views and location in time and space influence how one understands the world. In this context, gender, race, class, and other aspects…”  (sk.sagepub.com). Â
I am a heterosexual, Zulu-speaking African young woman. I was raised to fear God but also believe that my ancestors are a great part of my life. I grew up in a home with older brothers and father, and I had my mother as the female figure. I would play marbles and brick cars, PlayStation games (FIFA and GTA) with my brother and never for a day did m mother reprimand me because playing with boys was wrong. Today, I have a lot of male friends that I trust and care for dearly.   I grew up in mid-suburban part of a small town. My family is in the middle-class and so I have never struggled to get by in life. I watched seen my mother go above and beyond to provide for me, and my father waking up for work and failing to but me a lollipop. I believe in the need of gender equality in households as I have been raised in a home where my mother and I were entitled to cleaning after the men in the home. I have seen the people close to me suffer in the hands of their partners and told myself that I would never let someone I know, or even myself rather, go through ill treatment by their significant other, with no emotional support and with no justice. The lived experiences are what define my position in gender inequality and domestic violence in homes. My mother’s teachings and how she guided me to view the world, including the community I was raised in, influenced greatly how I carry myself in front of others and how I perceive the world.Â
Positionality impacting assessment: Â
When running an assessment in the confined spaces or in the waiting lines, the space is shared by the therapist and the individual being assessed or the caregiver (England, 2000) & (Bourker,2014). These are two individuals with different identities. Positionality is a part of our identities that is shaped by our perceptions of things or other and how things are done. Assessment can not be conducted well with biases in the room. Through acknowledging and recognizing your perceptions of things, biases and stereotypes, insight is gained on how to approach assessment, home for home visits and the level of engagement with the community members (Bourke, 2014).Â
This could be closely related to cultural formulation, where we are required to look at and to make sure that it does not impede intervention. Fernendez & Diaz (2002) stated that cultural formulation was made up of the individual’s cultural beliefs and the cultural elements in the client-therapist relationship, except with positionality, its not only your cultural beliefs but also life perceptions and teachings.Â
When assessing a few days ago, I sat down with the lady in the room where she revealed that her injury was a result of a fight with her boyfriend because he was drunk and accused her if flirting with the other. He was at the clinic with her as she went to go get her bandage changed.  The first question I was tempted to ask was “have you gone to the police station” but then I thought to myself, why does that concern me? Why is that the first question I would initially ask? I thought to myself it’s because I believe that any woman being ill-treated by their partner should be motivated and to leave or she might die in the hands of the man, and find justice for herself. The young lady went on to explain that she is currently staying with her boyfriend because her family had sent her away. She looked happy when talking about how he has since after the fight, been so helpful and supportive, he has even encouraged her to reconcile with her family. My biases in the room had to be put aside. I would not want her to feel judge, resulting in withdrawal from the interview and agreeing to functional rehabilitation, as her results for her actions are a result of certain situations, which are only relevant and known by her in the room. Â
Positionality while working in community and creating treatment programme:Â
The community I am based in is one of the oldest settlements which is predominated by Zulu-speaking Africans. It is further divided into townships of different beliefs, values and positions in life. In the community there are who are really on the poverty line while others area at least at mid-level. A study run by (Government: Local and Provincial Government, 2005) revealed that 75% of the households earned below R9600 per annum. This study was conducted between 3 areas and one of them is the community I am based in.Â
Being in the community has not been a great change as I am Zulu-speaking and am a young girl like woman in the community. The people in the area of the community that I am in that have been seeing are not on the poverty line but also not at mid-level.  In the community, I advocate for special attention to special needs and also value seeing others engaged in something meaningful to better their lives. I met a mother who has a baby that is different from peers. After my assessment and interview with the mother, I looked at the calendar to try find a date I can book for a follow-up intervention with the little boy. I found a date and told her and response was “I’ll see if some can give me the money”. She expressed that even coming to change all the pressure sore bandages was already too exhausting for her. I realized at that moment that, that meant there was an 80% chance of her not coming back because of not getting the money. I asked her how far it was because it was really important, she expressed that she fully understood the importance but she was just exhausted and her child is really heavy. Pushing for her to do the what was exhausting both emotionally and physically would not reinforce any of my interventions. I sat down and changed my home programme. I provided with more exercises and made double sure again that there were implemented. My belief of women having to do bigger and better things in life would mot let me lt her leave the office without a motivation and assurance that she is not alone, which actually would mainly be what brings her back. Â
In conclusion, how I was raised and taught while growing up greatly contributes to how you approach people, address people and treat them. Once your eyes have been opened to positionality, you question where you stand in every situation and conversation. As an Occupational Therapist, it may get a lot symptoms with meeting different and new people, but it always important in assessment and intervention to take a step back, and make sure that you are not doing things that you think are proper or making suggestions that you think are feasible, because you would be able to. Get into the shoes of the other person and think if it feasible and appropriate for them. Â
 Reference List:
Benny Warf. General Geography, Earth & Environmental Science. Encyclopaedia of Geography. https://sk.sagepub.com/reference/geography/n913.xmlÂ
Bourke, B. (2014). Positionality: Reflecting on the research process. The Qualitative Report, 7P (How To Article 18), 1-9. Retrieved from http://www.nova.edu/ssss/QR/QR19/bourke18.pdfÂ
England, K. V. L (1994). Getting personal: Reflexivity, positionality, and feminist research. The Professional Geographer, 46(1), 80-89.Â
Government: Local and Provincial Government. (2005). Inanda, Ntuzuma, KwaMashu (INK) odal Economic Development Profile (p. 5). Kwa-Zulu Natal.Â
Lewis-Fernández, R., & DĂaz, N. (2002). The cultural formulation: a method for assessing c
0 notes