Tonight all these lives converge here
The mosaics of laughter and cocktails of tears
Where fraternal souls sing identical things
And it’s beautiful
It’s rapturous.
It is frightening.
____
I can’t tell you how proud I am to share this with you, an album that just feels so right. A forever thank you goes out to my mentors and friends Max and Shellback for helping me paint this self portrait.
If you thought the big show was wild, perhaps you should come and take a look behind the curtain…
The Life of a Showgirl is out now.
https://taylor.lnk.to/TSTheLifeofaShowgirl
Album Producers: Max Martin, Shellback and Taylor Swift
I didn’t see if you put it somewhere in your description, maybe i’m just blind, but are you comfortable with writing smut? If you are I would like to kindly request an Alpha Luisa (from encanto) x Omega FemReader, it has taken over my mind recently and I cant find many fics with that dynamic unfortunately.
Hey, okay so here’s the thing..
I can’t write smut. I have tried multiple times and I just can’t do it 😭 Never have been able to. I try but I can never quite get it to where I want it to be and definitely can’t ever get it to a point where I feel it’s good enough to be posted. Whenever I do write smut scenes, I start it off with them getting into it but never actually write the actual smut, I just skip it and go straight to them being done 😂 I honestly suck so much at writing smut, I used to be semi-decent when I first started writing fics ten years ago but over time it just got worse. I’m so sorry 😔
yooo do you take asks for fics? That would be epic if you did, just sayin
I used to but don’t really anymore as i could never keep up or get them done for ages as i have a full time job and can only write in my free time. But if you do have a request, feel free to send me an ask and I will get to it when I’m free ☺️
Well, that’s all masterlists updated! Only took two weeks 😭😂 Anyways, uhmmm… I’m trying to get back to writing and stretching it out for more of my fandoms soooo… uh… enjoy ha !! 🤭
Warnings :: possible swear words, soft!draco, fluff, sweetness, anger, etc.
Character Ages :: Draco and reader are both seventeen.
Plot :: Draco tells you to run away, away from Hogwarts, away from him. It’s the day before the Battle of Hogwarts, and things at the school are about to take a turn for the worst and Draco doesn’t want you to be caught in the crossfire.
Pronouns Used :: He/him for Draco, She/Her for reader.
Word Count :: 1.6k words.
Note :: Draco may be slightly out of character. Idc. We do NOT like JK R*wling in this house, and I tend to make him my own version whenever writing about him, so ehm… if you don’t like that then don’t read I guess.
Info :: This is from a dialogue prompt I found on Pinterest so credits for this idea goes partially to them!
Story Type :: One-Shot // Series.
You stood at the top of the Astronomy tower, your best friend had sent you a letter via owl just a few hours prior, telling you to meet him at the top of the Astronomy tower at 7PM.
Your figure was enveloped in darkness, a cold wind whipped around your face as you glanced down at the Quad, watching as people rushed into the castle wanting to get inside before curfew. Professor Snape and a few Deatheaters had taken over the school ever since Dumbledore had tragically fallen to his death just a year or so prior. You glanced up at the darkening sky, watching the clouds rolling in. Something settled in the deepest pit of your stomach, almost like a knot tightening, you sensed something was coming but what it was? You weren’t sure. Something bad was going to happen, you could sense it. It was a gut feeling but your gut feelings had never been wrong in your whole seventeen, almost eighteen, years of life. Draco was just a month shy of turning eighteen, and you? It would be your eighteenth birthday in just a few months.
You soon heard footsteps on the stairs behind you, approaching you. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the bleached blonde hair of your best friend, his slender figure headed towards you, he was dressed in black from head to toe. “You’re late.” You stated, checking your watch for the time. It was 7:20PM.
“I’m sorry. I got caught up, and didn’t want anybody seeing me come here.” He told you, his eyes scanning the area below, watching students and professors alike scurrying inside from the darkening sky.
“What’s with the secrecy, Draco? Why can’t you be seen?” You questioned.
“People would have issues with me being here, especially my father. I can’t be seen, but I needed to see you.” He told you, his pale fingers lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered at the side of your cheeks for a moment longer before dropping back to his side. “I know my letters haven’t made much sense recently. I know they’ve been more like stupid riddles and I’m sorry for that.” His voice seemed to be remarkably softer than you’d heard before.
“D, talk to me. What’s going on?” You questioned, lifting your hands and cupping his cheeks, your eyes staring into his light grey ones. His eyes searched yours, a soft breath leaving his mouth before he turned to move away from the window, away from you. Your brows furrowed in confusion, your hand dropping back to your sides as you watched him. He paced slightly, his back still facing towards you.
“You have to go while you still have the chance. You have to run away.” He warned, not meeting your gaze.
Your brows knitted together, “Run away from what?” You threw your hands up. You were tired of his endless riddles. Tired of his endless attempts at avoiding you. Couldn’t he tell that you loved him? Couldn’t he tell that you would do anything for him?
“From me.” He whispered. His tone was barely audible. “You have to run away from me.”
You stepped forwards, towards him. You reached your hand out, placing it on his shoulder, “Draco…” You began. He tried to move, attempting to shrug your hand off of his shoulder, “Listen to me, I am not going anywhere.” You told him.
“(Name), you don’t understand. Something big is coming, something is going to happen. You need to run because I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire, I couldn’t handle that.” He finally turned around, your hand dropping from his shoulder as he turned to face you.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You repeated, staring into the taller boy's eyes. “If I get caught in the crossfire of whatever is happening then we will fight side by side, just like we always have.” You told him.
“No, love, you don’t get it.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “For the first time ever, we’re going to be fighting on different sides.”
“What do you mean?” You questioned. “What’s happening, Draco?”
“I don’t know for sure, all I do know is that it will not end well. I know Potter won’t give himself up to The Dark Lord willingly, which means something bad is going to happen and he will take down anybody in his path in order to get to Potter. Students, professors, he won’t care. He will do what it takes to kill him. I don’t want you caught up in that. I won’t survive that. So please, love, just run while you still can.” Draco tried to explain.
“I don’t run. You know that. I may not be the brightest witch of my age like Hermione, but you know damn well I am a very gifted witch and I do not run from a fight. Hogwarts is my home and if Voldemort is coming for Hogwarts, I am going to stand to protect it and if that ends in my death, then at least I died fighting for what I love.” You told him, your tone firm.
Draco sighed, running his long pale fingers through his blonde locks, giving himself a disheveled look. “God, why do you have to be so stubborn!” He exclaimed.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way and you know it.” You pointed out.
Draco chuckled slightly, running a hand down his face, “You’re impossible, you know that?” His smile still present on his features.
“You love me.” You shrugged, a grin crossing your features.
Draco nodded, “More than you know.” He sighed.
You froze, your eyes wide, you could almost hear your heart beating right out of your chest, “What?” you managed to breathe out, almost inaudibly.
Draco’s grey eyes widened in realisation, his breathing almost hitched in his throat, “I… Uhm…” He mumbled, almost stuttering along his words. “No going back now, is there?” He mumbled, chuckling nervously.
“Draco…” You began, finally fixing your composure.
“Look (Name), I don’t know what tomorrow’s gonna hold, probably a whole lot of death so I need to tell you this before either of us get caught up in the centre of whatever The Dark Lord is planning.” He began, running his nimble fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. “If I could buy you the stars, I would. If I could pull the moon down for you, I wouldn’t hesitate. If I could give you a million suns, I would do it in a heartbeat.” He smiled sheepishly, his nerves slowly becoming more noticeable. “But I can’t do any of that so I’m asking if I could give you my heart instead.” He told her. “You’re the only one I trust enough to keep it safe.”
“Draco, I… Wow.” You mumbled.
“Look, I’m not expecting you to feel the same. I know you probably just see me as a best friend and that’s fine with me, I just needed to tell you because one or both of us could die tomorrow. I needed you to know before either of us died.” He sighed.
“I love you, too.” You responded, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.
Draco frowned, his signature smirk playing on his lips, “When did I say I loved you?” He grinned.
You rolled your eyes, cocking a brow at him, “The implication was there in that little speech of yours.” You retorted.
This time, it was Draco’s turn to roll his eyes before his eyes met yours once again, he took a step towards you, “You mean it? You love me?” He asked.
“Ever since third year.” You smiled, placing your arms around his shoulders, his hands found your waist as he held you close.
He leaned down, closing the gap between the two of you and pressing his lips against yours into a soft but desperate kiss.
His lips were slightly chapped. They felt a little rough on your pink, soft ones but that only brought more desperation to the kiss, making you deepen it slightly.
The pair of you pulled back slightly, “Let’s get through tomorrow, Malfoy, and then you can tell me again that you love me. When, not if, we both survive.” You whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes were closed slightly as you spoke.
“If we do both survi-” He began, stopping when you gave him a pointed look, “I mean, when we do both survive, I am going to take you on a proper date in Hogsmeade. I promise.” He let you know.
“I’m going to hold you to that.” You whispered, leaning up and planting another soft kiss to his chapped lips.
He smiled as you pulled away, he opened his mouth to speak until he heard a soft squawk behind the pair of you, he glanced over and saw his pet owl, signalling it was time for him to leave before he was caught on school grounds.
He slowly lifted your hands and planted a delicate, lingering kiss to your knuckles before backing away into the shadows and towards the stairs once again, slowly making his way down them, but not before giving you one final message, “Once all this is over, meet me on the bridge outside the school, my love. I love you.” He disappeared down the stairs and out of the school before you could respond.
You watched him walk across the quad and towards the bridge before disapparating back to Malfoy Manor. A soft smile graced your features, as you now stared into the nothingness.
“I love you too, Malfoy.”
~ Hey, hi, hello!! Welcome back to Bee’s fic writing era (kind of heh!). So ehmm… here’s a lil draco malfoy fic. As a draco girlie myself, you know i just HAD to write for him. I am still going to publish my Carlos Madrigal fic but it’ll probably be on ao3 rather than here in all honesty. anyways, there may be more reader fics of my fave characters on here possibly, maybe heh. I need to redo my master list too so look out for an account revamp soon possibly! 🫶🏻 Make sure to remember to drink something, eat something, please stay hydrated and remember you’re loved more than you’ll ever know! Mwaaah! <33
“why do you ship them? I thought the ship wasn’t canon?” bro we’re talking about fictional characters, who don’t actually exist in real life, from a media that focuses solely on fictional events that are not real either. so what if these two made-up characters didn’t kiss in their source material? they have lots of nasty gay sex on archive of our own and thousands of novel length slow burn enemies to lovers fics written about them. the fanon content at this point far exceeds the whole canonical franchise. the problem isn’t “it’s not canon” the problem is that you don’t allow yourself to let go of canon and enjoy the wonder of fan contents that are just as good / valid
I need you to understand that when I say "comments are appreciated!" I mean that I will reply to every one of them. I mean that an email with an ao3 notification has a higher priority than a message from my mother. I mean that I will have entire discussions in the comment section if you're up for it. Message me on tumblr and I will have the same discussions on an even more unhinged level. I will dissect entire personalities and ships and fictional political structures and worldbuilding with you. I will become your new best friend. You already ARE my new best friend. At the last battle, I would raise Anduril and say "For my ao3 readers" while a single tears rolls down my cheek, and dive into the fray. I would upload from beyond the grave if someone asked about the next chapter
*reads fanfiction with the most incredible description, most incredible inner monologue, most incredible dialog, most incredible pacing, most incredible world building, and just most incredible writing*
word count: 1k; pairing: sam w. x reader; summary: You steal one of Sam’s flannels after a tough hunt, thinking he won’t notice. He does. And he really, really likes it; warnings: non really, fluffy.
a/n: something really quick and small, because i have been exhausted lately from work:(
————
You weren't sure why you did it. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was comfort. Maybe it was something else entirely, something you weren't ready to name.
But when you stumbled into the bunker after a brutal hunt, body aching and adrenaline finally wearing off, your fingers had found Sam's flannel hanging over the chair in the kitchen. It was soft, worn, and smelled like him, faint hints of soap, gunpowder, and something warm, something undeniably Sam.
And before you could second-guess yourself, you slipped it on.
It was too big, swallowing your frame completely. The sleeves hung past your wrists, and the hem brushed the middle of your thighs, but you didn't care. If anything, that only made it better.
You'd been cold, drained, and maybe, just maybe, craving something that made you feel safe. And Sam's flannel? It did exactly that.
You barely registered falling into your bed. Sleep had come fast and heavy, pulling you under like a wave. But the next morning, as you groggily shuffled out of your room and into the kitchen, you immediately realized your mistake.
Sam was already there.
He was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee, his other hand flipping through a lore book like it was the morning paper. His hair was still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the ends, and his gray t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders in a way that shouldn't have made your stomach flip, but absolutely did.
And then, then he looked up.
His gaze landed on you instantly.
You froze.
Because you could feel it. The way his hazel eyes moved, taking in the oversized flannel draped over your frame. His flannel. The realization hit him slowly, but when it did, you watched his lips part slightly, his grip tightening around the coffee mug.
You swallowed hard.
"Morning," you mumbled, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary as you shuffled toward the coffee pot.
"Morning," Sam echoed, his voice lower than usual. Rougher.
You could feel his stare on you, burning and lingering.
You tried to ignore it, pouring yourself coffee with shaking hands, but the silence stretched too long. It was suffocating. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And then—
"That mine?"
Your breath hitched.
You glanced at him over your shoulder, feigning innocence. "Huh?"
Sam arched a brow, setting his mug down on the counter with a quiet thud, which made your heart skip a beat. He nodded towards the flannel hanging loosely off your almost naked frame. "The shirt."
Damn it.
You knew you should've changed. You knew he'd notice.
You forced a shrug, face burning up as turning back to your coffee, letting your hair fall into your face, helping you hide behind it. "Maybe."
Sam made a sound, something between a chuckle and a hum. "Didn't think you were a thief," he murmured your name, the murmur making you shiver.
"I didn't steal it," you argued, stirring your coffee like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. "It was just... there." which honestly you weren't lying about, because its was there in the kitchen, perfectly ready to be stolen and worn by you.
"Right." Amusement laced his voice. "Just lying around in the kitchen."
You winced. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
"I was cold," you admitted, still not meeting his eyes and staring at the black coffee in front of you. because you were sure that if you did look at him, your heart would do that weird thing that had you thinking you were dying and your stomach would be filled with something you couldn't quite put a finger on.
Another beat of silence. Then—
"You can keep it."
Your head snapped up so fast, you weren't sure how you didn't get a whiplash.
Sam was watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. His arms were crossed, and there was something about the way he was looking at you, something that sent heat crawling down your spine and to your core.
You swallowed, shifting slightly. "I— what?"
"The flannel," he said, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. "You should keep it."
Your brain short-circuited.
Because this was Sam, sweet, logical, rule-abiding Sam. The Sam who lectured you and Dean about not leaving your crap lying around the bunker. The Sam who triple-checked inventory after every hunt, making sure no one messed with his things.
And yet.
Here he was. Offering you his shirt.
Like it was nothing.
Like it was everything.
Your heart hammered against your ribs, you could hear it in your ears, and you prayed he couldn't hear it.
"You- You sure?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. Shit, you needed to get your shit together.
Sam's smirk softened into something warmer.
He took a step closer. Then another. Until he was standing right in front of you, his tall frame blocking out the rest of the room, like he wanted to keep your attention only at him, as if it wasn't already his. His fingers brushed the hem of the flannel, slightly grazing against your thigh for just a second, just enough to make your breath hitch.
And then, with a voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine, he murmured, "Yeah. Looks better on you anyway."
Your entire body went hot.
You were pretty sure you stopped breathing. Maybe even thinking. Because all you could do was stand there, staring up at him, your heart pounding in your throat.
And Sam?
Sam just smiled.
Took a sip of his coffee.
And walked away.
Leaving you standing there, wearing his shirt, wondering what the hell just happened.
You kept the flannel.
Of course, you did.
But what really sealed the deal was when Sam knocked on your door that night, a second flannel in his hand, that same teasing smile on his lips.
"Figured you might want a matching set, you know, for just in case."
And that was when you realized.
This wasn't just about the shirt.
It was about him.
And you.
And whatever the hell this was turning into.
And damn it.
You weren't sure you wanted to stop it.
❝ my father will hear about this. ❞ @calswildflcwer - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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