#these ppl covered in robes in the desert

[trickstarbrave]

i was rereading the book of the law to make comparisons to the 36 sermons of vivec and came across this one passage where i was like "omg. this is so azura" and i immediately pictured this in my head and had to run to recreate it

"But to love me is better than all things: if under the night stars in the desert thou presently burnest mine incense before me, invoking me with a pure heart, and the Serpent flame therein, thou shalt come a little to lie in my bosom. For one kiss wilt thou then be willing to give all; but whoso gives one particle of dust shall lose all in that hour. Ye shall gather goods and store of women and spices; ye shall wear rich jewels; ye shall exceed the nations of the earth in spendour & pride; but always in the love of me, and so shall ye come to my joy. I charge you earnestly to come before me in a single robe, and covered with a rich headdress. I love you! I yearn to you! Pale or purple, veiled or voluptuous, I who am all pleasure and purple, and drunkenness of the innermost sense, desire you. Put on the wings, and arouse the coiled splendour within you: come unto me!"

also other ppl were posting their azura designs. here is. smth of mine. i dont think she has a set look if im being honest but i think pink and purple are pretty as is her whole queen of the night sky and lady of twilight deal

i still need to figure out what exactly im doin with her in my long morrowind fic but. i guess i'll figure it out

[magnoliamyrrh]

I thought radical feminism opposed hijab

dont worry, no offense taken lol, i dont mind ppl just asking questions, and youre far from the first to ask me abt this. if anything tks for asking lol ive been wanting to make a post abt this on this blog, just hadn't gotten around to it

so. this is going to b a long and tangeled one. my opinions and feelings on hijab are quite complicated and conflicting and they have been so for years, and i think its important that i say a)in all honesty by this point i dont know what my stance is 100% and im not going to pretend otherwise b)i dont think my opinion is the most important on the planet when it comes to this discussion c)opinions among islamic feminists are not uniform on this topic d)i consider myself to be heavily leaning twoards radical feminism, and i engage w the community bc at least youre still allowed to talk abt shit and ill take women who are critical of everything under the sun than women who cant discuss shit; however i wouldnt say im a full on radfem, moreso an orbitor whose mostly on board

i really dislike the way liberal feminism, both from outside of islam and liberal feminism imported into it, approaches this topic. theres a billion nuances and things to touch up on in this discussion which i wont even get to; none of this starts and ends at "choice." and to start and end the discussion at choice is to miss out on any historical, social, psychological, or even religious analysis - how are we to speak of choice when so many muslim sisters believe that an all powerful god is commanding them to do something? this is not choice the way the liberals wish to understand it. also, i always said that i dont think covering is a feminist thing to do really - just bc a woman chooses to do a thing dont make it feminism all of the sudden

it is true that hijab is historically tied to sexism, this is undeniable. in islam it came about mostly after the death of muhammad pbuh; at least, it became more common. the quran is not specific when it tells women to cover. it was also the influence of other cultures and religions of the period which had an affect on islam; orthodox christianity, zoroastrocism, etc. it is indeed true that the hijab is entangeled with patriarchy and patrilinial systems - while it may be about modesty, this modesty exists in a male benefiting system in which the woman is expected to be modest (and sexually "pure") outside of marriage - so that males, in a patrilinial system, may know that a child is theirs. in a way, it was a way to mark a woman as private property; slave women, sex slaves or not for example, were in many cases not allowed to cover their heads, because they were public property, not private - which considering the shit ive been through, i do find to be deeply uncomfortable and angering. its also the case that the wearing of the hijab was often split among classes; at times only higher class women would veil for the most part, at times only lower class women would, depending on the place and time.

now, knowing this, and not denying its origins. its also important to understand that hijab has also taken up other meanings, and has functioned differently through time and cultures.

there is something to be said about its practicality in the place where it originated and where it is still warn, which is the middle of the desert. muhammah himself pbuh for a time grew up among the bedouins. if we look at the clothing of the nomadic peoples of the deserts of north africa and the middle east, its not just the women who are covered; the men as well often cover everything but their eyes. bc in a place with burning sun, sandstorms, winds, and biting cold during the night, this makes sense. i can also say after living in a desert for a bit over half a year, having essentially a thin blanket to wrap yourself in and shield yourself from the elements is actually quite nice. if we look at traditional saudi clothing today, men also wear essentially robes and cover their heads. if we look at ottoman clothing, the men would also often wear robe-like clothes, or both men and women would wear shalvari, loose harem pants;;; theres also something to be said about veiling, or the covering of the head, not being a unique thing to women in many cultures, within islam, and outside of it, from a cultural but also a spiritual perspective. if we look at orthodox priests and monks for example, many wear very similar clothes to nuns. if we look at the sikhs, the men cover as well as the women. etc. if we look at traditional romanian culture, it was also undignified for a man to walk around with his head uncovered (though by a hat and not a veil).

there is something to be said as well abt the veil not functioning the same in many places and cultures. so much of the discourse around muslim women and ~oppressed muslim women circles around the veil, and this has been so since the dawn of conflicts between the west and east - this endless fascination with it, with either demonizing or sexualizing it; youd think the entire islamic world revolves around it. in truth there are islamic societies and cultures in which it doesnt matter that much, in which some women wear it and some dont and some or most wear it in a way that is not "proper" according to some (turbans hands and neck showing jewerly loose veils etc - thinking particularly abt many places in africa but theres plenty of others). there are places in which the veil has become moreso of a focus as a direct result to colonialization than it was before; partially bc when someone invades your country, disrespects your entire culture, and bans you from doing shit, when you get rid of them you're going to double down. but again, there have been and there are plenty of places in which it wasnt... that big of a damn deal. i always love seeing old photos of the balkans for example, bc its just..,, niqabis, hijabis, women wearing traditional clothes but not covering, women wearing western clothes, niqabis wearing western clothes but only covering their faces,,, all together

im not denying the origins of the veil, nor am i denying that on many of our sisters it is pushed; i am not denying that this is an issue. i fully stand by our sisters who are against it, completely or not, i fully stand by our sisters who hate it, i fully stand by muslim and exmuslim and culturally but not religiously muslim women who dislike it or have had traumatic experiences with it - and i wish their voices and concerns and frustrations werent so buried by this whole damn "choice" discussion. it is clear that changes have to be made, that it cannot be forced, neither by threath of violence, neither religiously and culturally by telling women and girls that they have to or else they are sinful, undemn, going to hell, distracting men, or whatever the hell else. we have to completely do away with these concepts; only then could veiling be a truly free choice for a woman. we have to analyze and critique how all these concepts that surround so much of this - purity virginity modesty etc - are in retrospect sexist. we have to look at how modesty in islam is prescribed for both sexes, but it is most often only the sisters who have the rigidity of hijab forced onto them, while muslim men feel comfortable wearing shorts and taking their shirts off, etc, and noone ever really calls them sinners, tempters, undemn, sluts, etc. we have to question how much it matters at all how we personally feel about the veil, if in material reality we are still doing what men want us to do - to not question this would be to fall into the same trap that the postmodernists fall into

at. the. same. time.

the issue of hijab and feminism is deeply entangeled, as i mentioned earlier, with imperialism, colonialism, islamophobia, and racism. this whole rhetoric that the muslim woman must be unveiled to be liberated is an old one, one which predates feminism. example, the forced unveilings in algeria - where as far as i understand the colonizers had to first get women to veil in the first place to then unveil them; they are the ones who made this a focus. what france is doing right now - banning the hijab in public buildings under the guise of "liberating" muslim women - is an extension of this imperialism, this racism, islamophobia, sexism etc. this idea of "liberating" muslim women - from their own culture and religion by enlightening them with the western one - is one that has been used as justification for invading entite countries and wrecking havoc, and the veil has always been a primary focus in this. this has come from both western feminists, but also from western men - who didnt give a single shit about sexism, they didnt give a single shit about the sexism they were committing against their own women, but they suddenly cared abt sexism when it was abt liberating muslim women (of colour) from evil muslim men (of colour)

there is also something to be said abt the hijab being taken up throughout time as a symbol of anti-colonial resistance. per example many muslim women started veiling after both 9/11 and after what happened in palestina, as a symbol of resistance and pushback etc. i do think this is an important aspect to remember and a part of this conversation - that in the west, and outside of it, some have taken up veiling particularly as an act of defiance, and a symbol of solidarity with our fellow muslims. this is technically part of the reasoning for wearing hijab too originally, so that a woman may be known as a muslimah by her fellow muslims - the veil is indeed an identifier among ourselves, but also a target which paints us as clearly muslim to others. i also think its important to point out that there is nuance in who and why and how some women choose to veil; there are those who indeed start veiling completely agains the wishes of their families, husbands, community, etc - and this makes the discussion of hijab both in the west and outside of it more complicated, bc then, by doing so, we are not necessarily even conforming to expectations, if that makes sense.

while the hijab may be part of islamic patriatchy, it is also at the same time the anthises of western patriarchy. there is a quote which goes, about algeria and the niqab, "the colonizer is frustrated by the woman who sees, but cannot be seen." in the western world, where a woman is expected to show herself, to be sexy, to be beautiful, to always be covered in makeup and get plastic surgeries so that she may be attractive to men, to have her beauty and sexisness always to be consumed by any man (and women who refuse to do so are demonized and seen as lesser), a world in which billboards with half naked women are everywhere and sex appeal is used to sell any god damn thing, etc etc etc, it is true that the hijab stands in opposition to this - a refusal to make oneself and attractiveness avaible to the eyes of men. in a world in which a woman is so judged by her beauty, to show nothing but your eyes and hands, and nothing of your shape or beauty, is indeed in opposition to what western patriarchy wants or expects (also not just the west tho, plenty of eastern countries who have taken up these sort of expectations for women: south korea an example). reminds me of a niqabi i know on youtube, whose husband never saw what she looked like before they got married - this woman indeed has the certainty that her husband did not get with her because she was attractive or sexy, but because he genuinely cared for her and her personality, who she is, bc he had no damn idea what the woman he committed himself to looked like. but this frustrates the western man, who thinks he is entitled to see any womans beauty whenever he may please. he is not.

one of the reasons why i still wear it, is less to do with modesty, and more to do with, i hate men seeing me. i spend my childhood being bought, sold, raped, endlessly used and sexualized by males. when i was a preteen men started catcalling me on the streets in romania. etc. i dispise, i truly do, men having their eyes on me to any extend whatsoever, i truly do. to me, it is comforting to have a big veil i can wrap myself around in, whose folds i can dissapear in, with which i can cover my face and the shape of my body. its comforting to wear niqab, bc it means no man is seeing any part of me much, and thats the way i like it. i don't consider this dissappearing from public life - im very much still there, and my loud ass mouth which always gets me in trouble v much means i dont dissappear lol. its a way to be in public without having to worry that any man can see my body, think that i have a nice ass or my hair is beatiful or whatever the fuck else. im also lol deeply traumatized and brain damaged, and maybe autistic, and i get sensory overload easily at times. its also comforting to have essentially a thin blanket to wrap myself around in whenever i want bc of this, i find it to be very grounding and safe feeling. i also like that when i veil, most men understand to keep some distance from me and not touch me, which i appreciate. now. thing is. i shouldnt have to dress any sort of damn way for men to not sexualize me, men should know to keep their damn eyes off of women etc, but. they dont. at the same time veiling truly isnt some sort of ultimate escape let me make that clear - men will sexualize anything and everything, and there are plenty who specifically sexualize the veil. a woman could walk around almost naked, or she can walk around in full niqab and chador; there Will be men who will sexualize her, sexually harass her, assault her, agress her, or at the very least judge her. because theyre pigs

i also still wear it bc its a cultural thing, and this matters to me. when i first started veiling at 14 it was partly to do with spirituality, partially to do with this. i didnt come to america by choice particularly, and ive done a truly bad job at assimilating into its culture - when i did try, it left me with much self hatred and shame, so. yea, at some point i snapped out of that and decided the whole assimilation thing wasnt for me. ive had a habit of dressing traditionally for years, and starting to veil when i was younger was a part of that - even though i am uncomfortable with how this tradition has affected some of the women in my family, and the way i was exposed to it when i was younger - i saw it as something i was, lets say, reclaiming. now, i dont think "reclaiming" the veil is much a feminist thing either btw, i think it is at best perhaps neutral. but it has mattered to me for years as a symbol of both culture, a connection i share with my grandmother and grand grandma, the older generations who were less western, and a symbol of resistance to the expectation and pressure of assimilation. also. lets look at another part of traditional clothing which has sexist origins - jewerly. in the balkans (and many other parts of the world) the jewerly of a woman was her security; if her husband died, or divorced her, etc, a woman would be able to sell her jewerly to survive (this is also why historically women are given jewerly as gifts in many cultures). the jewerly also signified her social rank and "worth" - in the context of weddings (in which a bride price would be payed to the brides family by the husband in an often arranged marriage, aka, she was sold), the woman or girl would often be adorned with much jewerly which had not only spiritual and cultural significance, but it was meant to display the wealth of the families and the worth of the bride, as if she were some precious item bring bought and sold. even so - even with the sexist entangelments of traditional jewelry - im not going to stop wearing that, either; nor do i think traditional jewerly has to be forever entangled in its origins.

and i still wear it bc of spiritual reasons; as said earlier, many cultures and religions have taken up covering as a spiritual thing, for both men and women. i do find that personally it grounds me and reminds me of a series of responsibilities that i have, and it is a constant reminder of the presence of divinity (or the divinity in everything etc). also growing up i always just thought it was beautiful, even when the rhetoric pissed me off, i always wanted to look like one of those orthodox saints. the virgin mary, maryam, had style, thats all im saying

.... no. the choices i am making do not exist in a vaccum of individualism, and im fully aware of that, and ive been going back and forth on what exactly it means to wear hijab for years. but if wearing hijab is a part of islamic patriatchy, i have to wonder if taking it off while im in the west, even as a act of solidarity with our sisters, would not be further feeding into the very old imperialist idea that the muslim woman ought to unveil in order to be liberated and free - as if the west is any less sexist, as if the expectations placed on women here arent also a damn nightmare. none of these "choices" exist in a vaccum, and i very much feel caught in the middle, and no, i dont have some singular answers or solution or opinion on any of this. i really dont

i also think there is something to be said about, there are different ways of going about, lets say, reforming what the hijab means and how it functions, which do not neccessitate its full dissapearance. in marocco for example the younger generation has been switching between wearing hijab one day, and not wearing it the next. this already breaks expectations and some of the values and ideas that surround it, and it normalizes it in a way which makes it just another item of clothing, rather than something that has to be strictly followed, or that has to do with a womans worth and purity or this super important thing. and again, there are many places in which the hijab is warn in a nonstrict manner, taken off, put on, worn loosely, worn with short sleeves or showing the neck or jewerly or whatever - which is also what i do. i think this may be a middle path to this issue to take

i also would like to touch up on briefely on the purdah - the sociatal segregation of the sexes, practiced in islamic cultures as well as hindu ones, and some others - of which the hijab&niqab are a part of. i have written abt this in this post; while the topic is complex, i do not believe the purdah has to be inherently sexist, and rather, id prefer if society was more sex segregated than it is, just in an egalitarian way - partial segregation as far as im concerned allows for a level of saftey and sisterhood for women, in the best cases

so. uh yea. idk probably a lot i didnt get to and this probably wasnt the most clear reply - all this to say, its a nuanced and complex issue which i do not have some sort of solid standing on. and which, again, among islamic feminists is also not a uniform issue. while i cant remember off of the top of my head whose written on this, there is an islamic feminist tag on this blog that you can look through, and you'll come across the names of many authors who have probably at one time or another touched up on it. theres also somewhere there a post with pdfs to several books, which may be a good place to start farther looking into this if you are interested. im sorry if this wasnt a super satisfactory or clear answer, its just an honest and complicated one

[whimsycore]

Captain marvel really is just US imperialism

[tinyidle]

Not as Sweet as You - JYH

first of all, happy (late) yunho day! another year of life is given to this precious man, and i hope his day was as sweet as he is. speaking of, that is what this whole fic is about! i have a thing with yunho eating since he usually looks very comfortable and so good. so here i am, mixing the warmth feeling of big puppy yuyu in a fic.

my second ever atz fic!

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WARNING: smut, fluffy smut lol, birthday smut, domestic/married setting, vague description of food, description of the way yunho eats, nicknaming, lingerie, foreplay (oral, n*ppl* play, f*ng*r*ng), b*ob k*nk, food pl*y, s*x n*n*, *mpre*nation k*nk, teasing, begging k*nk, slight size k*nk, smaller reader, soft!dom!yunho, switch!reader, softish!husband! yunho x confidentish!wife!reader, all fiction ofc

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it's yunho's special day and you prepared everything he liked for him, although it was difficult since he seems to like everything. you couldn't wait for him to come to the house after his work was done. it was near 7 pm, and it gave you tons of time to think about what you wanted to do to make the end of his special day extra special.

so, while you were waiting for your husband to come home you lit some small candles with the caramel smell you both liked (as if he hates any candle smell), put on very soft iu and ed sheeran music, and put on one of his absolute favorite lingerie that you bought. even though he naturally likes anything you buy for his viewing pleasure, something about the blue lace one-piece lingerie that shows your stomach but hides your breasts and crotch that gets him going. ever since you bought that piece 2 years ago his hands have never left your body whenever you wore it. so you'll be wearing it now for that same effect.

2 hours later and you reheated the food for the third time. you were about to take a nap when you heard the key lock unlock the front door. "im home!" yunho sang out. you walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a welcome kiss, your satin robe covering your body. as yunho hugged you, he looked around and saw the plethora of food you prepared as well as the ambience you set. "is all this for me, baby?"

you let go of your husband and nodded. "yep. happy birthday, sweetie!" you then went on your tippy toes to kiss his right cheek, which made him smile. he went to the table and carefully picked out his food choices. he opted to feed you, but you refused since it was his birthday. "let me feed you instead," you tried to negotiate.

"mmh mmh," yunho shook his head in a sort of childish manner, making you laugh a little. "if it's my birthday then i should get what i want, and what i want is for my little puppy to have some of the food she made for me." you cooed at what he said and gave up to his demand.

he fed you food that you could have easily grabbed for yourself, and he ate the foods he knew you personally liked most. while eating, you couldn't help but stare at his lips and how they puckered whenever he took a bite. the way his cheeks puffed out a bit when he was chewing. the way you would see some of the substance when he opened his mouth a bit too wide when chewing. you just imagined how heavenly those lips and cheeks would look like under you.

you got so lost in his mouth you almost forgot that your husband was also feeding you, so you had to snap out of it several times. when you and yunho had your fill (he ate a lot more but still made sure to leave some for you for later), he went to rest a bit on the couch. that's when you suddenly remembered what you wanted to give him the most.

"yuyu honey, your forgot your desert," you said.

yunho was confused. you gave him cake just earlier, and although he ate very little of it, he enjoyed it very much. "what do you mean? i thought the cake was the desser-"

and that is when you opened up your robe, showing your frontal self in the lace you knew he loved oh so much. his face automatically got pink due to the natural blush he got when he saw your beautiful figure. "baby-"

"i know you like everything, and im happy for that. but right now i want you to do and say what you like most." you put your taller, much more dominant husband in a more smaller position. yunho can make decisions for himself, but when it comes to picking and choosing, he usually lets the other person or people decide. you in front of him, looking very delectable and ready for whatever he wants and desires, made him a bit shy, but very aroused. he wanted to treat you well and give you what he wanted.

a small smile crept on his face and he became more confident. "i want you to come and sit your pretty ass down here," he demanded, patting his lap. now it was your turn to blush (if you can lol) as you went to his lap, your robe now discarded on the floor. turning around, you bent yourself to sit down you when heard and felt a loud smack! on your butt. you yelped while your husband chuckled at your reaction.

when you sat down, you felt the all too familiar feeling of a dickprint getting hard. he was aroused, just like you wanted. you wanting to get more reaction swiveled on his crotch, hearing his soft groans from your actions. suddenly you feel his huge hands grab onto your hips and halt your mischevious movements. "behave, puppy, or else you won't get to cum until i do." you stopped teasing immediately because you know yunho has way too much stamina for you to be edged like that.

as you began to get comfortable, yunho took that advantage to massage your boobs. you have the most perfect pair of breasts he's ever seen before, and he swears by it. in this lingerie, it just made him want to just swallow them in his mouth. in fact-

"stay here, baby." yunho got up and went to the refrigerator and pulled out the whipped cream you used for his cake. walking over to you, he (with your help) pulled down the top of your one-piece. "the cake you made for me may have been sweet-" he said dolloping it on your left nipple.

"yunho-" you said, breath getting heavier with the coldness of the whipped cream on your chest. you then let out an unexpectedly loud moan from your lips as your husband took your bud in his mouth. you looked down and it was just how he looked and he ate the cake and had the spoon latched onto his lips. his cheeks puffing a bit as he slurped up your boob along with the now melting cream.

yunho licked around the areola before looking up at you, smiling, "-but not as sweet as you, baby." even though he sucked only one breast he knew you were soaked and ready for the taking, but both you and he know that yunho likes to take things slow. it's the reason why you guys got married after 4 years of dating and 5 years of friendship. this year marks your 6th year anniversary and he felt like you guys were ready for the next step. but patience first. now he has to worry about enjoying his delicious dessert in front of him.

he dolloped another cold swirl of whipped cream on your right breast and hungrily sucked on ig. you just sat there and took it, moaning so loud the neighbors could probably hear through their noise cancelling ear plugs. you took your right hand and rubbed on your clothed core, desperate for friction. because your husband sees everything, yunho shooed your hand away and unlatched his mouth from your boob.

yunho then lifted you up and walked to the bedroom for more support and comfortability. he took off his clothes one by one, being in his white t-shirt and boxers. he then lay down next to you, putting his hands on your hips, and moved you onto his neck and shoulder area. you almost moved downward in fear of breaking yunho's neck when he spoke up. "ride me," he said.

you were way too needy to try and argue, so you lifted yourself up and hovered over your husband's face. your essence was so much that some of it dripped onto yunho's lips, making the tall man curse out. he grabbed your hips again and pulled your hot cavern into his awaiting lips. although you couldn't see him, you could hear and feel his mouth doing wonders on your pussy, slurping up your juices. you were moaning and grinding on his face, in which he encouraged it by giving your ass a light smack. you leaned down to his crotch and rubbed on it, causing him let out his own moan in your pussy, causing vibrations.

covering his first two fingers in spit, yunho pushed them in your hole while licking on your clit for added stimulation. your moans pitched up at the action, you getting a huge load of pleasure all at once. you decided to treat him by pulling out his cock and, after rubbing his precum around his tip, lowered your mouth onto it. the room filled with sounds of slurping and muffled moans, and the two of you would bust if you didn't fully feel each other.

"fuck, i need you so much, puppy," yunho said, lifting you up and laying you down. "i want to fuck you so badly." he kissed down your jaw and neck, left hickeys down your breastbone and stomach, opened your legs and blew cool air on your cavern and inner thighs.

you loved the slow burn of it all, but wanted him to do what you and he wanted. "you have me, sweetie. fuck me full."

yunho smirked and wanted to push more buttons. he rubbed his dick onto your slit, hearing you whimper. he fought the urge not to fuck you right then and there. "full of what, huh puppy?" he pulled up your legs into a mating position but refused to do more than rub himself on you.

you moaned and squirmed at the teasing action. "full of- fuck- full of cum!" you almost continued pleading when you felt your husband's thick and rather long cock being pushed into your smaller hole. you had to adjust to his huge size, and he knew that. he took his time for you and waited until your hole seemed to relax.

when you gave him the go ahead, he went in full force. he went in slow and deep, pulling out the most sultry moans from you. after some time, he picked up his pace to almost a brutal one. he felt yourself start to shake and clench, and you felt him twitching and being sloppier with his thrusts. "you want me to give us children? make you a mommy? your stomach would look so beautiful all swollen with our bundle of joy."

"fuck, yes! i want you to be a daddy. just please!" you were so close, but all you needed was your husband's go ahead.

yunho felt more than satisfied at that answer/ "go ahead, baby" he rubbed your clit and leaned down latching onto your boob to further stimulate you. all this plus his baby talking teetered you over the edge and made you cum so hard you spasmed. yunho saw this and, after a couple more thrusts, shot his seed into you.

you guys stayed there like that for a while with him flipping you guys over. when you two caught your breaths, he again flipped you two over and carefully pulled out, seeing his and your cum seep out of your now spent cunt. you looked at him looking at you, and you two laughed at your previous activities. you both then went to the bathroom to shower.

"if i do get you pregnant, i truly can't wait to take care of you ad our baby," your husband said while doing his best to clean up your sweaty body with your orange loofa. he couldn't stop kissing your shoulder and rubbing your sides.

"i hope you do, because i would love to start raising children with you." you leaned on yunho and allowed him to love and enjoy his dessert, who he sees is sweeter than any other.

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i did this all in one day because i procrastinated on a yunho fic for so long. hope you liked this! and sorry if i now cause you to stare at the way yunho eats lol.

tags: @haram-monbebe , @ourbabies-bts , @fynmightvebeenhere , @mingiast

[marauders70s]

Ooh, Hermione and Draco? Title: It's Always You. Summary: Draco asks Her to dance in front of everyone at the yule ball. And everyone's like so shocked but they do it anyway and ppl start clapping at the end. You don't have to❤

like my dudes i know a lot of people hate dramione but i have a special spot in my heart for dramione

Title: It’s Always YouPairing: Draco Malfoy & Hermione GrangerSummary: Ron ruined the night, but the night wasn’t over.

Krum had left after she had told him to go, distractedly, angrily, tearfully. He had been hurt and confused; he had wanted to hold her, to find who had made her so upset, but she refused to tell him what Ron had said. Regardless of Ron’s inexplicable temper, she didn’t want to create bad blood between the internationally ranked Seeker and one of her best friends. And she especially didn’t want to leave Durmstrang with the impression that Hogwarts was bigoted and jealous.

Harry had gone with Ron, predictably. Both had been abandoned by their dates - the Patil twins - and were going to bed. Hermione had already cried herself out in the first floor guest bathroom, careful not to get any tears on her satin periwinkle dress, or to pull at her sleek hair. She retreated to a far table to watch the rest of the dancing. She knew if Pavarti had left, then Lavender was not far behind, and going up to her dormitory to hear them gossipping about Ron’s behavior again was more nauseating than she could bear. Instead, she fetched herself some pixie punch and was determined to stay until the stroke of midnight, and then in the Commons after until she was absolutely sure Pavarti and Lavender were asleep. 

She watched the dance floor; it was thinning now. The older students were out in the Gardens trying to climb into the bushes, or else unlocking unused classrooms or finding other trysting spots. The Astronomy Tower must be freezing but packed with romantic couples trying to look at the stars and make a move on their partner. 

Fred and Angelina were still going strong, though both were covered in sweat, and Angelina’s makeup. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was from them snogging or flinging themselves around so hard her eyeshadow was splashing onto her date as well. George and Katie were near them, but they were leaning against one another in exhaustion, almost asleep - eyes closed - determined to outdance Fred and Angelina. Katie looked very pretty in a blue silk sheath, and Angelina in sequined gold. Both the twins were in what looked to be extra work robes of Mr. Weasley’s. 

Neville and Ginny had disappeared. Ginny had retreated early to gossip to the rest of her envious third year mates. Neville had probably gone straight to bed. She couldn’t see Pavarti or Lavender anywhere, and even Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were gone off somewhere - probably with their dates - though Hermione wasn’t sure who they were.

Only a very few of the visiting students were left: one Durmstrang girl in Seventh Year, and a few Beauxbatons boys who were hoping to clean up the straggling Hogwarts girls. Hermione saw Pansy Parkinson in black crushed velvet, tiny pearls beading around her waist. Despite her personal hatred of her bully, Hermione had to concede she looked nice. She was dancing with Blaise Zabini, but he was looking over her head at the Durmstrang girl with interest despite being three years younger. 

There were no other Slytherins; Draco Malfoy had gone, and so had his dumb and almost mute cronies Crabbe and Goyle, who had not managed to find partners, and had spent the entirety of the dance sitting down, looking stupid and bored after the banquet had been cleared away. Hermione relaxed a little. There was no one left who she knew well enough to bother saying hello to, or intruding on to keep her company. And there was also no one left rude or mean enough to nag her since Pansy was busy, and Malfoy was missing.

The night trickled by slowly, and even supervising staff who had long retreated to the tables to watch sleepily, began to clear out with yawns, until only Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore himself were left. The other heads of schools were nowhere to be seen, though Hermione thought Madame Maxime had last been with Hagrid.

To Hermione’s surprise, Angelina sat down on the dance floor before laying down completely, sides heaving as she panted. George and Katie roused themselves, having won by default, and cheered and mocked Fred as he dropped too, lying side by side with Angelina, letting their sweat leech into the cold stone floor, Angelina begging Katie to pull off her shoes.

The four of them limped off to an afterparty they were likely to start, not even bothering to lower their voices in passing the teachers on their way out, though George did tip his hat cheekily to McGonagall, who scowled. 

A slow dance came on, and Hermione’s stomach lurched uncomfortably. She had been the recipient of her very first kiss tonight, and she had been scared in the starlight on the terrace, but Viktor had been quiet and gentle, and even laughed with her when she giggled afterwards nervously. Now, every slow song reminded her painfully of what Ron had said. Of the fact Viktor was probably in his room on the ship, angry that their night was ruined and ended early, and that she was sitting alone, afraid to go upstairs to her own bedroom and cast a silencing spell around her bed lest she might offend her roommates. 

She felt guiltier than ever. She shouldn’t have to tiptoe around them. It wasn’t her fault Ron had acted the way he had. He’d been acting badly all year, and hanging out with Fred and George, making Fred bring her little messages that she refused to answer, and Fred made light of. She looked into her empty party cup and set it on the table. It winked out of sight unobtrusively, but it made her more morose than ever, as if promising there would be no punch left if she wanted any. It was just that sort of night.

Sighing, she reached up to pull the piskie pins out of her hair to let it down. She would have to wash it out before it got too greasy and tangled. Maybe she should spend a long time in the bathroom - it was sure to be deserted. This thought cheered her up very slightly. It was a better place to hide than here at a table alone, on the receiving end of unsubtle glances of McGonagall’s sharp gaze, or up in the Commons where she might be forced to socialize with an after-party by the twins.

She pulled the first pin from the nape of her neck and felt a long piece of hair fall. Her hair had definite spring to it, and was longer than even she had expected when she had gotten it all straightened out. She reached for another, already thinking of the steaming free standing soaker tub she could climb into in its privacy stall when - 

“Granger?”

She looked up, and actually dropped her piskie pin in surprise, arm falling dead into her lap. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her in silver robes and was glancing down at her with the oddest expression on his face. 

Well no, it wasn’t an expression. it was the lack of expression. Usually when he looked at her, he was gloating, or sneering, or smirking, or - but his face was blank. Neutral. Almost nice looking. It was as if a stranger had come up to her, and Hermione had the uncanny sensation of seeing Draco’s face as others might see him, without his personality underlaid. She hadn’t realized he was handsome before. She had always thought him an ugly sort of git.

“Yes?”

She realized he had been holding his hand out to her, but she couldn’t understand the meaning of it, quick as her mind was supposed to be. She only stared at him as he huffed an impatient sigh, his features rearranging themselves haughtily for a moment and bringing her back to herself.

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously, but she could understand now, all at once.

“Asking you to dance,” said Draco, wiggling his hand impatiently. 

Hermione checked over her shoulders, and then over his, for his cronies or friends. But Crabbe and Goyle were not waiting with buckets of blood or paint or cameras to pull down her dress. Pansy had been taken off by a Beauxbatons boy with a coy smile. Blaise Zabini was asking the Durmstrang girl to dance, and he was not having the trouble Draco was.

Draco glanced over his shoulder too, impassively. He didn’t worry about anyone else, because he made the rules. If he wanted to dance with Granger, no one would say anything about it. He glanced back down imperiously at Hermione. “Well?”

“Is this a joke?” and she said it flatly, frustrated that she couldn’t see the trap.

“What?” and for a moment, he looked almost offended. “No! You were sitting down by yourself. It’s the last song. Would you like to dance?”

Hermione just stared at him until he dropped his hand and raised his eyebrows coolly. “Fine! Whatever. I don’t care. Don’t dance if you don’t want.” He made to turn away, and Hermione hesitated before she stood. She did not take his hand.

“Is it really a joke?” she asked again, quietly. “If it is, just tell me. I’ll still dance with you or whatever. You can say you got me. Just let me prepare for more of this night.”

Draco actually looked uncomfortable. “No. It’s not…it’s not a joke,” he said at last. And he cringed, realizing how realistic her fears were. He glanced around again. “Look, none of my friends are here.”

“I can see that,” and her voice was even, measured.

“You don’t have to. Go upstairs if you want.”

“Are you sure you’re not having me on?”

“I was just trying to be-” sputtered Draco, incensed. 

“Nice?” Hermione asked sarcastically, and Draco narrowed blue eyes in her direction.

“Are you going to dance or not?”

She was tempted to say not and to laugh about the entire encounter with Harry and Ron in the morning, but just thinking about Harry and Ron twisted her stomach, and she paused, before she nodded, just once, glancing in McGonagall’s direction and catching her quick profile. Hermione knew by the movement that she had been staring at them a moment before.

She felt clumsy, and Draco took her in his arms stiffly. He was a good dancer, Hermione realized. Better than she was. Better than even Viktor. 

“I thought dancing would be beneath you.”

Draco actually smiled, and it took her so aback she stumbled. He followed her weight without pause, and twirled her 180 degrees. “A young man of breeding,” he quoted in a stuffy voice, “has many lessons before schooling truly begins.”

“Did you really?” and Hermione was surprised at herself for wanting to know more. She was genuinely curious. She didn’t know anything about education before Hogwarts, aside from Ron.

“My Mother didn’t want me associating with mixed bloods at the local primary,” said Draco stiffly at first, while Hermione flushed, looking down, acutely aware of her own blood status. “She hired me a governess until I was five. Then a tutor until I was ten. Drawing, dancing, music, history, and the modern languages.”

Hermione actually giggled. “You can draw too?”

Draco quirked a smile. “Very badly. Mostly plants from books. We didn’t have much variety in the library. I learned out of a book of poisons.”

Hermione looked down between them, surprised to realize there was no space between them at all. 

“Je sais que vous parlez français,” Draco said, trying to catch her eye, while Hermione blushed furiously.

“Juste un peu. Et très mal,” she answered him, embarrassed at her accent.

Draco smiled broadly, staggering her again. He twirled her instead to keep her footing.

“What else did you learn?” she asked, rather breathlessly.

“Sums, mathematics, philosophy,” he answered carelessly. “The classical upbringing.”

“Greek and Latin?”

“Only Latin for spellcasting. Beginning magical theory. Children’s guide to Alchemy. That sort of thing.”

“But that’s very advanced!” said Hermione, and her voice was admiring without meaning to. Draco grimaced.

“Yes. It was a lot of work. A very isolating childhood,” and Hermione was quiet again.

“I also read a lot,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t have any tutors or anything. Both my parents worked, and I didn’t have any siblings.”

Draco nodded, and Hermione took it as encouragement.

“Mostly I read whatever I could find in the library. Things you wouldn’t think worth your time,” she added in a hard voice. “Children’s books. Muggle children’s books. As I got older…science too. I loved science. I think it’s what I love about Arithmancy and magic in general.”

Draco Malfoy was in her Arithmancy class, she realized at once. She had never noticed him before, cornered in the back all alone without his friends. Something struck her, something that had never struck her, though she had known it all along, like a passing thing:

“You’re smart!” she cried in surprise, and Draco actually stopped rotating with her, as they held stock still. He was saved from answering by a smattering of polite applause. Hermione backed away from his contact and flushed. Without their noticing, the dance floor had cleared until it was just them, and everyone else had been watching them chat.

Draco only smiled derisively across the distance at her, and gave a very smart, and very formal dancer’s bow, before he turned on his heel, and strode away in a swish of silver robes.

Send me a made up AO3 title and i’ll write you a drabble based off of it!

[hisfatherwillhearaboutthisx]

One Step At A Time Draco x reader

Rating: Fluff Request?: Yes,  Hey I would like to request a draco x reader. Only of you still take them of course😊. It plays in hbp and the reader is dracos girlfriend/boyfriend(idc) and also a forced deatheater(you know what I mean?😅) And like all this stuff happening with Voldemort and now school and their mission really affects her. And many of her friends are worried about her, even ppl who don't like her, and draco notices it too and talks to her. So it's like fluff and stuff. And thank you of you have the time to write it 🤗 Warnings: NONE 0:)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          I was made to stand in the dining hall at my house with my mother and father, Lord Voldemort entered the room followed by roads of thick black smoke signalling his arrival. I looked over to my father who reached over to place his hand over my shoulder. " Ahh Miss y/l/n, so nice to meet you again" his smudged smile being directed to me, I looked down to my feet avoiding eye contact with him at all costs. "It's time for you to join us... officially" he raised a hand to his wand which was immediately pointed at me "come forward child" his voice had deepened immensely. I turned to my father who wasn't daring to look in my direction "Dad? I don't understand, what's going to happen" my dad still refused to maintain any form of eye contact with me."It's time for you to become... a death eater-""one of us" Voldemort interrupted my Father as my Mother walked out of the room with her head hung low.

 A collection of long bone like fingers crept over my shoulder pushing me against the wall as long black ink ran along my arm creating a dark skull shaped stain.My mind went black as Voldemort kept talking to me. When I got to the Slytherin common room it was almost completely deserted; all except for Draco. he was sat in the large leather armchair closest to the fireplace, with a potions book in his hands.

 It was fairly late now so it was understandable to hear his small snores echo throughout the room. I glanced back at him as I left to go to my bed, it was so quiet I could hear the lake rushing past the windows but my thoughts were loud and corrupted, trying to get to sleep tonight would prove to be a travesty...

 ------It's only been two days. Two whole days, I can't cope it stresses me out too much. I forced my way out of bed, looking into the mirror only to see my swollen puffy eyes and my skin turning grey from the lack of sleep. I just can't sleep no matter what I do. It was only at dinner people started to question me; I was holding hands with Draco under the table when he looked over at me and frowned he saw I wasn't eating any food just poking it around the plate. "Y/n, are you alright. You look a bit ti-""yes Draco I'm fine..."I reached over for my cup when my sleeve pushed its way up my arm exposing my inked flesh only to Draco he was the only one paying attention to me fully, he was the only one who had truly cared. throughout my day people have asked if I'm okay or told me that I look tired and that I should get and early night tonight.Draco's looked deep into my eyes as soon as he saw the ink etched into my forearm, withdrawing my arm from the table and tugging down my sleeve, I got up and ran to my dorm, I couldn't let anyone see my weakness. not even Draco. When I reached my room so many tears had fallen, whilst I was running down the hall crying in distress multiple students had witnessed me cry, thinking about that embarrasses me even more. I buried my head deep into my pillow to allow my tears to fall freely.

 A rough set of hands latched over my shoulders pulling me to their chest upon realising it was Draco I instantly tried to pull myself together, hoping that my tears would just magically disappear, but it was hopeless he seen too much if my weak side that I just gave it all to him. I gripped helplessly at his robes wanting nothing more than for him to hold me close until it was all okay, I leant closer into his chest he smelt like lemon grass and home.

 A familiar scent that made me feel so at home because I belonged to him and him only."y/n, shh shh its going to be alright soon" he hushed me repeatedly."No Draco, it's not I can't kill anyone, please this already hurts too much I don't know how much longer I can live with myself knowing my parents subjected me to this and I let them, Draco I gave in." my sobs came harder than I had expected my body trembling so much that Draco's hand which had remained on my shoulder shook with my body."This is all my fault, y/n I'm so sorry I got you involved..." His voice lowered to a whisper holding me close to his chest and tugging me lightly into his lap."Draco, I come from a pureblood family, who are massively involved with Voldemort. It was bound to happen anyway, don't place the blame on yourself it's not fair" My crying had quietened by this time and Draco was placing small butterfly kisses across my neck."Y/n it will all be fine soon I'll do Whatever I Can to save you" and I already knew he was telling the truth we would stand together and protect each other through thick and thin. Sleep gently pulled me into its reigns and soon enough It was a brand new day.

 I was happy to inside my comfy bed sheets with a large tuft of dishevelled platinum blond hair next to me, and piercing grey eyes darting around all my features. "oh, babe you eyes are all puffy" Draco reached over to stroke my cheek carefully. "It's fine Draco..." I smiled up and him lightly. His hand dropped from my face to grip my own hand."Today let's face the rest of the world together"                                                                                                                            

[x] sorry that this short, it was a really good request that I tried to do justice but my next image is going to a lot more descriptive just to test out different styles of writing just to see which one works best. In other new tonight, I’m performing a dance cover of J hopes boy meets evil dance, I’m so nervous and yet so excited. xx