#This ended up basically being an essay

[therainbowgorilla]

This is not a question. This is an explanation tied to a question, like an elephant tied to a latex balloon: do queer people know that the reason queer discourse exists in the state that it does is almost definitely because a lot of queer people are also retarded? I hope that's as blindingly obvious to other people as it is to me, because *aS aN aUtIsTic PeRsOn*, every time a great big angry ball of queer discourse comes rolling, flaming and screaming past my blog, I think to myself that if I was autistic AND queer, I'd most likely also be dead by my own hand, or wheelchair bound due to a stroke. The attitude expressed by the original poster of the post whose comment section you found me in: that language about or surrounding queerness should be essentially meaningless so as to keep those it relates to from having to conform to any sort of expectation that they may have previously established for themselves, makes it completely impossible for an autistic person to engage with those people at all. In fact, I would go so far as to say that in effect they make themselves more like computers to us than people: malignant and unknowable machines where all input is meaningless and all output is random and usually negative. It's so obvious that that's where the "language has meaning" and "there need to be rules" objections come from, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking to feel like I, an outsider, am the only person who even notices or cares. I mean honestly, how dare you tell autistic people that there are no rules? What the fuck are you thinking? It took me my entire childhood to just about figure other people out, well into my adolescence. Over fifteen years to stop deliberately antagonizing people just to get a reaction that made contextual sense. I'm almost thirty now, and I'm not going back to that feeling of hopelessness. Not for anyone, no matter how sad their story is. And that's where "You don't get to know how to treat us with respect" came from.

What the fuck are you even on about? You think I'm gonna take the argument of someone who uses the R slur in 2023 seriously? What do you think this is, 5th grade?

I don't give a shit if you're autistic or not. Me too, the fuck? If you would have bothered to glance at my blog description, you'd know that.

Just like any other slur, you can use the R slur for yourself but not against others. (This isn't some roundabout way of calling you the R slur. I'm just saying it's how reclaiming works. You don't get to call other people the R slur just cause you're autistic.)

And oh my god your overdramatic shit about how you'd fucking kill yourself or wind up disabled if you were autistic and queer? How fuckin old did you say you were? Holy shit, you're almost thirty and you're acting like this? Get a grip. Grow up.

I'm autistic, disabled, and queer. The absolute audacity you have to come into my inbox with this shit is just blowing my mind.

And oh my god, the cognitive dissonance here is so legitimately hilarious to me. You're calling people like me overly sensitive when you're the one throwing a hissy fit in some rando's inbox on tumblr dot com lmao. And the claim that you've matured and stopped diliberately antagonizing people is just 😘👌 such funny irony. Like, did you even read your ask before you sent it?

You've self admitted that you're an outsider to the queer experience, so what the fuck makes you think you get a say in how we describe and label ourselves? Newsflash: non-queer people don't get to dictate what queer people call themselves. Shocking, I know (/s).

Look, dude/gal (I'm gonna assume you're not enby since you've said you're not queer), I'm genuinely sorry you've had trouble figuring people out as you grew up. Trust me, I totally get it. You think you're the only autistic person who had trouble figuring people out growing up?

Hell, I STILL ain't figured it out yet. How do allistics remember faces? How do they not get special interests? How do they know "common sense" intrinsically whilst I often don't seem to? How can I tell romantic love from queerplatonic love or from sexual love? Why do allistics always assume we know things despite them never telling us them? How does an NT person focus without hyperfocusing? How can you tell if someone is flirting with you? How does the person in front of me feel? Is the person I'm infodumping to actually interested or am I boring them? Why do people think my tone/face is an angry one when I'm just expressing confusion and asking curious questions? What's my gender? What is gender? Why do people in power want to hurt other people? Why are they so greedy for money they'll never spend? Why can't cashiers sit down?

And how the FUCK does someone make friends, especially as an adult not attending college/uni!?

FUCK IF I FUCKIN KNOW! It sucks! It sucks ass! I know that! Seriously, trust me, I'd love to understand the way allistics and NTs think. The world would be SO much easier for the both of us. And we struggle so much to understand NTs, whilst they rarely try to understand us in return! I know you struggled and that legitimately sucks, and I wish the world was more kind and patient and accomodating with you and I both.

But, like, you think you struggled? Try growing up disabled, nonbinary, aromantic asexual (with queerplatonic attraction), autistic, mentally ill in several ways, physically disabled, poor, and in an abusive home. Holy fuck, I was constantly confused about other people every day of my damn life!

I'm not saying this to invalidate your struggles and experiences. You struggled, and that sounds like it fucking sucked, and I'm sorry it was that rough for you growing up. It sounds like you weren't given enough kindness and patience and explanations about things when you should have. And that really really sucks, I get that.

But you're not the only one who has struggled, and having a rough life doesn't give you the right to be an asshole to others or dictate how they are allowed to live their lives.

There's something important you aren't understanding here.

You have to try to understand what a social construct is. By definition, social constructs like gender and orientation and the language around them are constantly fluid and changing. Labels are fluid and are ours to pick or to ignore.

I feel a sense of better understanding of myself when I find a label I feel happy with. I feel peace and a sense of comfort that I'm not alone in my experiences. I feel a sense or community. So, for me personally, I love it when I find a label I feel fits me!

Other people feel that labels are restrictive, and that's okay too! No one has to use any labels that they don't want to identify with, and they really don't have to use any at all! The important thing is that the choices are ours to make.

See, you seem to have a fundamental misunderstanding about what being Queer means.

Trying to force strict rules on what queerness is is literally antithetical to the definition of queer. And someone outside the community like yourself absolutely does not get a say in how we define our queerness.

Queerness in and of itself, by definition... is literally a rejection of the strict rules society has always tried to force upon gender, orientation, and the like. Society tries so hard to force us into cis heteromantic heterosexual boxes, tries desperately to enact strict rules about who we can be and who we can care for.

The reason that there are so little rules in regards to how we can identify is that Queerness, at its very essence, is a rejection of the strict rules and labels that society forces upon us. Queerness is about breaking free or rules and boxes forced upon us by others. Historically, for decades the bisexual and lesbian communities were heavily intertwined and welcoming to each other and to letting their members identify as either or both if they wished.

Then, a bunch of biphobes decided that bi people were disgusting and dangerous for (many if not most of them) liking men. And the biphobes began trying to drive a wedge between the historically linked communities and force bisexuals out. Unfortunately, it seemed to work.

(here's one source I really enjoyed reading that taught me a lot about this bisexual and lesbian history!)

The link between the bi and lesbian communities once thrived, and then it was stolen from us by a bunch of biphobic assholes.

Bi lesbian is a rejection of the unjust rules society has tried to force upon us. It is a reclamation of the historical link that was ripped away from us by the hatred and bigotry of biphobes.

You need to learn how to be okay with not understanding every little thing. If you don't understand someone, talk to them, ask them questions. And if you still can't understand, that's okay! Because here's the thing: You don't have to understand something or someone to respect them. I don't understand every single xenogender or microlabel, but as long as they aren't based on hatred or bigotry, I am perfectly content to say "I can't say I understand it fully, but I'm happy you've found a label that brings you comfort and happiness with yourself!"

Identifying as bi lesbian is, at its core, an act of queer rebellion and reclaimation. The very essence of what being Queer is all about.

[tvckerwash]

you know, an interpretation of ct that I don't see that I personally really love is that she's a fuck up. like yes she's cool and she has some good fight scenes, but a huge part of her character is that she makes mistakes. the mistakes that she makes are ones that on their own aren't the end of the world, but she keeps making these little mistakes, and they eventually add up until she's out of room to make any more.

a really good example of this phenomenon in action is the actions she took leading up to her final confrontation with carolina and tex.

strike one, she thought she saw something in the water, but when asked by the leader what it was, she brushed it off as nothing when even if it had been nothing, it would've been smart to tell him what she thought she saw.

strike two, she didn't sense or notice florida's presence when the leader did, and she looks at the leader twice, once as she pulled out her magnums, and again after she did a scan of the room, almost like she was looking at him for guidance before he finds florida and takes him out with one good axe throw.

strike three, she couldn't convince the leader to leave when they had the chance to get away, and her cheap tricks were not enough to hold off either tex or carolina in a fight. they were only good for incapacitating her opponents enough for her to get away, which doesn't work when she has no escape.

ct is not tex, or carolina, or south. she is not a one woman army who can get herself out of trouble when she's stuck in tough situations. she needs people who can watch her back, she need a team who can cover her when she does mess up, and the leader and his team were not those people. she couldn't bring herself to trust them, and they couldn't bring themselves to trust her, and that cost all of them their lives.

[tessalation]

When each character wields complementary weapons so they only form a complete soldier when they’re fighting as one >>>>>>

[spacedlexi]

it honestly frustrates me when i see people reduce the ericsons cast down to "just some teens in the woods" acting like theyre no different than any other group of lone teenagers from other existing properties and treating them like an overused trope

it is sooo important to acknowledge the "troubled youth" aspect of the whole equation. theyre not just some random teens in the woods clem stumbles across. these kids were abandoned by their families for their various "difficulties" and fucked up by The System before the outbreak even began. and then once zombies started roaming the streets their familes never came back for them and the adults that were in charge of taking care of them just left them there to rot in that old boarding school (except for ms martin who was like their lee 🥺 the only person who ever saw them as the scared traumatized kids they were and died protecting them)

the whole aspect of them already being fucked up by the adults that controlled their lives is like.....kind of important when discussing the whole "delta is stealing kids to force them to fight in a war they have no real part in and want nothing to do with" aspect of the season. and its important when comparing them to clem and her journey of also suffering at the hands of the adults around her forcing her to become self reliant. AND its important when discussing the "just trying to build a safe home (and future) worth fighting for in this world that wants them dead" aspect of the season as well

these kids were forced to come together to survive. and a Lot of them didnt... theyre the only family they have left and you can tell that even when they argue with each other theyre still a close knit group who looks out for each other. theyre a Real family before clem even gets there (and its why what really happened with the twins and brody and marlon hits them all so especially hard)

all of this is what REALLY makes ericsons such a perfect home for clem. its a Real community of her True peers. theyre not Just teens. they mightve had a layer of safety clem never had by at least having walls to keep them safe. and having the benefit of the school being hard to find. its the only reason theyre still alive when clem shows up. but theyre also some of the only people who can Truly understand where clem and aj are coming from. and its why it hurts so much when they vote to kick them out. but its also partially why she merges back into the fold so easily when she returns. plus the fact that shes Really the only one who has any idea what shes doing. shes their rock and she makes them feel safe because underneath it all theyre still just those scared traumatized kids ("EVERYONE is scared, clem..." vi was Definitely including herself in that 'everyone'), and on some level, so is clem

they saved clementines life. and she saved theirs. "the school was supposed to help them with their trauma, now they help each other" its about the LOVE the COMMUNITY the SUPPORT!!!! and thats the shit that makes good zombie media honestly 👌

[dnangelic]

honestly understanding is different from acceptance and dark and daisuke don't really ever ask for anyone to understand them. dark especially super doesn't care and doesn't ever even have first hope of anybody understanding him. it's okay if you or your muse don't 'get' how dark and daisuke work because it doesn't really matter, knowing how they work is for Me, the Mun. what DOES actually matter to them is whether or not you think they're still like, cool and worth talking to or being friendly with. you don't have to get what goes on between them as long as you can acknowledge the absolutely baseline understanding that they are the same person. that's enough.

[hecksupremechips]

Time for me to be completely changed as a person! *just watched falsettos*

[chipsonthemenu]

fnc aro4aro send post

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[aashiyancha]

This can probably pinned on the tail end of Reinhardt's first event

[theprinceandthewitch]

BTW I am a Voxman enjoyer... but I just can't stand Laserblast analyses that are misogynistic towards Carol or weirdly biphobic towards Laserblast lol

[heatwa-ves]

ruka tsukinaga....

[lacomandante]

I know there’s much higher quality clips from the Sharpe series on youtube now, but back in 2017 this was the very first clip I had ever seen with Teresa, as there weren’t many in general. (Though this one cuts off the first part of the scene). I had only ever seen pictures at that point. I’m very fond of this video and this moment in Eagle and I remember being so surprised to hear her voice for the first time!!  I loved her accent and the way she spoke and the tenderness in the scene HOOKED me. So yeah have a little snippet of Sharpe’s Eagle <3

[fingertipsmp3]

Also forgot to mention a guy in my class today said that blogging is narcissistic. I just sat there like 🫠

[jollyreginaldrancher]

Exactly. These children are a product of their environment and I feel like Misty is no more at fault than Ethel was, in Shameless.

For context (spoilers ahead) Ethel was Kevin and Veronica's foster child. She was a 14 year old girl they fostered (V for the money, Kevin to try out being a dad) who was rescued from a cult where she was a sister-wife to a 65 year old piece of shit pedophile.

While she was with the cult she was preyed upon by the cult leader and groomed into performing acts of service and sexual favours for him, and that didn't go away when she was put into the foster care system.

That was normalised. So when she was fostered, she immediately tried to slip into her learned behaviours, cleaning the house nonstop and offering her body to her foster dad.

Did he lead her on? No. Did she have feelings for him? No. But she was indoctrinated into this belief system where sex was a duty she had to perform for the man she was in the care of, and when that became Kevin it manifested in her offering her body to him.

Misty we know virtually nothing about. We haven't seen her parents or the rest of her family. We haven't seen any of her friends or other formative relationships. We don't see the way anybody treats her one on one but we know her role on the team is basically just an honorary one just to humour her, that probably exploits her for tasks nobody else wants to do, (equipment manager probably just sets up cones for drills, etc, so the coach doesn't have to) but instead of begrudging the girls on the team or showing any jealousy, she seems to root for them, cheering louder than even the mascot and hyping them up.

She didn't hate or resent them for having or being something she wasn't, she admires them. She doesn't want anything bad to happen to them so she can feel superior, she's actively rooting for them to win. They inspire her. She doesn't want to be them, she wants to be with them.

All we know is that she basically wants to survive and to fit in with these girls. That she's desperate for belonging and affection. And that she is NOT like other girls.

We get the scene of her staring blankly as that rat drowns, not to show her cruelty or callousness, or at least I don't believe it is to show that she's psychotic as most people who dismiss her claim, but I believe it is to show her helplessness.

If you pay attention, it follows the scene where Allie gets hurt and she tries to intervene and perform first aid only to hurt her in her eagerness, and have coach yell at her to leave and call for help.

She's not clumsy and she does not panic easily. So I believe the reason for her absence of wherewithal in that scene, contrasting to her absolute clarity and single-minded focus during the crash, I believe is due to the fact that she is so used to her contributions to the team being behind the scenes, to nobody's applause, that when she finally gets the chance to contribute something valuable in a meaningful way she gets so overexcited she trips all over herself.

In the wilderness though she is in shock, and her body and brain slip into hyperfocus to avoid contemplating her own fate so she manages to carry the group's medical emergencies for the most part, and she is one of the most integral members of the group, if not the most important to their survival, next to Natalie, long term.

She stays in that state of hyperfocus throughout the entire second episode, from the moment they crash, until way into the night when she cauterizes coach Ben's leg. Something like 12 hours pass in this exhaustive state for her. And we only ever seen her finally snap out of it when she goes to pee and overhears Van and Akilah talking about her and she finally gets the tiniest bit of praise and validation after going beast mode for a whole damn day.

Like, she's not part of the group huddles when they score a point. She doesn't get a high five for putting cones down. This was the only time she got any validation on that team. She's so used to being overlooked, is it any wonder she would do something drastic to maintain some of that momentum and crush the flight recorder?

Note: it's not the reason they got stuck. Like the name implies it just records flight data and other information, and its location transmitter only works underwater so they wouldn't have gotten rescued because of that anyway.

Point being it makes sense that she would act out and make these desperate gestures for affection or attention when so long she's been on the sidelines, at least through soccer, though from what little we've seen, probably in her own life as well.

Misty displays signs of autism, which would explain her different morality (autistic people do not see the world the same way, and their morality system is different from everybody else's. She is impulsive and

And unfortunately autistic people take people at face value and tend to have trouble reading social cues and are statistically more likely to be preyed upon.

So for Misty to walk into the room, see coach at half mast and think it was appropriate to touch it, especially considering the likelihood that she has been assaulted in the past (1 in 4 typical women, and between 75-90% depending on the study for women presenting traits of autism) it is more than likely that it was a result of her disorder and past trauma and it's not some mark of villainy or psychopathy.

Something that really aggravates me is the fact that some people think Misty is completely at fault for her actions towards and with Coach Ben.

It is obvious to me that she already starts out the show with some severe abandonment issues, and the attraction to an older man and her innate need to have him need her in all ways possible is— alarming, to say the least. Seems clear to me that if she isn’t a victim of csa, she is definitely susceptible to that kind of abuse. Her curiosity towards Ben and sex seems less fueled by an actual, sexual attraction to him and instead a desire to be wanted and seen by anyone, and through trauma a child can be taught that the easiest way to get attention is to take it through any means possible. When a child has exhausted every avenue for love and attention, they will turn to extreme measures.

Should Misty have touched Ben in the cabin? Absolutely not, and his reaction was valid. Should she have poisoned him? Also no.

HOWEVER, I don’t believe that Ben’s fear of her is a good excuse for him to “play along” with this CHILD and her delusion. Think about how easy it could have been for him, an adult that is obviously impressionable to Misty, to sit her down and have an honest conversation with her. To tell her, “no, I don’t want you. But I don’t need to want you for your existence to be worth something. You are worthy of love and attention, and I’m giving you that love and attention by sitting you down and having this real, vulnerable conversation with you.”

All Misty needed was to be heard, not to be played along with. If Ben would of seen that, and talked to her, I truly believe she would have listened. That isn’t to say she isn’t already destined to become someone who manipulates others and uses her pitifulness to her advantage, and I’m honestly not sure how things would have played out if Ben had this conversation with her. But I think it was needed, and I think Ben is somewhat of a coward for not doing it.

[takkamek]

i’m finally free

[juleswritesstuff]

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable. 

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting. 

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship. 

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation. 

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ? 

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table. 

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good) 

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked. 

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit. 

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.