escapism addict

~ lizzie 🖤 ~ she/her ~ 19 ~

[syzygy-yzygy]

People who don't hyperfixate will never know the slightly horrible, completely impossible-to-replicate feeling of being so intensely invested in something it possesses you, takes over your waking thoughts and rides some weird line between being excited, anxious, and stressed as hell while still being entirely some other beast.

[lizziepooh]

‘tis a lifestyle

[deswhomst]

jegulus fame au but it’s barty and regulus who’re THE fan favorite pairing. they’ve been in multiple movies together and people are certain they’re dating (they’re not) which makes james incredibly hesitant to make a move and more importantly extremely jealous

[cherryriotcrash]

As a Zayne girlie, do not ask me if I am okay

The answer is no.

I am not okay

I am incapable of being normal about getting BACKSHOTS FROM THE GOD OF ANNIHILATION.

[lizziepooh]

MY SECUND PETITION FOR WOLFSTAR CAR FICS

like just imagine:

remus, both hands holding up the hood of his car, he leans to get a better look. remus in a wife beater and a certain someone’s borrowed jeans that hang lower than they need to be. sirius can do nothing but stand behind and watch from afar. he notices the way his jeans hang looser on remus, the way the paired wife beater raises as remus keeps his hands above his head, torturingly so. he notices how the combo lets him see the refined sculpture that makes up the man he loves, healed scars and taught muscles daring him to make his presence known.

VROOM VROOM GAY LOVE PLS SOMEONE WRITE A FIC I BEG YOU

[yazthebookish]

“Mock me all you like. Whatever I imagined then, now it is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips.” His eyes are black with desire. “By you, I am forever undone.”

Commissioned with my extremely talented friend artoffrostandflame (link here)

[ecstarry]

barty would be a duolingo god

listeeen languagues are the easiest fucking thing for him like that man has like six on going courses at the same time and doesn't miss a single day, he can do it half asleep and still score 100% on each of them, he has perfect pronounciation and the if he makes a mistake it was just a typo

barty crouch jr can talk dirty to u in any fucking languange

[sparxyv]

how my gameplay felt

[profictionoverhaul]

DEVOURED. ATE. LEFT NO CRUMBS.

[aurorboros-deactivated20250628]

please give me more established relationship jegulus where all bets are off during quidditch season. you are no longer my boyfriend you are The Enemy. arguing over who gets the pitch for morning practice because the gryffindors booked it but when they show up the slytherins are already there. ribbing each other every chance they get. making outrageous bets on each other’s games and heckling each other in the hallways. their friends keeping them separated the morning of game day because the tension is just way too charged and “do not kiss him potter stop that is SABOTAGE”

[lizziepooh]

therapist: so what are some things you do when you feel anxious or sad?

me: read about anxious and sad gay wizards

therapist: …

me: and if i’m feeling frisky i’ll write about said anxious and sad gay wizards

…

and they all die in the end

therapist: …

me: …

therapist: how do you feel about scheduling to see me twice a week?

(summarization of a true story)

[the-original-gays]

James was the mum friend in a "wraps you in a soft blanket and makes you tea when you're not feeling well" way.

Sirius needed someone to love him.

Remus needed someone to accept him.

Peter needed someone to value him.

And James made sure each of them went to bed smiling.

Regulus was the mum friend in a "chasing you around the house screaming at you to not put forks in the plug sockets" way.

Evan had no regard for safety, his own or others.

Barty has no impulse control.

Pandora did dangerous experiments on a daily basis.

Dorcas would do just about anything if you paid her enough.

And Regulus was just trying to keep those fucking idiots alive.

[pixydustworld]

The clock above the fireplace read 11:35pm. 25 minutes until midnight. They had exactly 25 minutes to consummate their marriage.

Hermione wondered how the ministry would know if her shiny new husband didn't come inside her.

She drank more champagne.

“It doesn't have to be painful.” Malfoy said, staring above her head at the wall, seeming eager to over analyze the wallpaper, “There are ways for it to be.” He took a deep breath. “Enjoyable.”

“I’ve had sex before.” Hermione said.

“You have?” His voice was a touch surprised.

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

“Loads of times.” Hermione scoffed (three times, to be specific, and it had been almost a year since the last time) “I’m an expert.”

Malfoy had the audacity to look relieved. “Good.” He said, “I’m glad you’ve had pleasurable experiences. When — when, we, consummate — ”

“Fuck.” Hermione said at the same time as him.

“— fuck,” Malfoy practically hissed, “Just. Just think of them.”

Hermione nodded. “Right.” She said, “Sure.” He was staring at her. Waiting for something; her permission, perhaps. “You can think about other people, too.”

The first time she’d had sex, Harry had been soft, if not a little too gentle. In the tent, surrounded by darkness and the ever present promise of death, their fumbling hands had met. It hadn’t been painful, but it hadn’t been overly pleasant, either. It just had been them.

The second time she’d had sex, Ron had been eager to please her, but it had felt off. Like a sneeze that wouldn’t come, like an itch just below her reach — overall, it had been unremarkable and unfortunately for her and Ron’s budding romance, a little unsettling.

The third, and subsequently final time, Hermione had decided that she needed to stop having sex with immediate members of her very small friend group, and Seamus Finnigan had been happy to oblige her.

In the middle, he’d gotten a leg cramp and accidentally headbutted her.

She’d gotten a bloody nose, and Seamus still wasn’t able to make eye contact with her without cringing.

Then, the marriage law had been announced, and Hermione had been too swept up in writing motions and testifying in court to worry about the elusiveness of her own sex life.

“Did you ever think you’d get married?” Hermione asked to rupture the silence that had stretched on for a bit too long. It seemed like a fitting question to ask, given their predicament. “I was never sure.”

Malfoy smiled and Hermione felt her stomach twist. This would all be much easier if he wasn't so handsome. “It was never my choice.” He said, “I always knew I’d marry someone my father chose for me. Perhaps that’s why I accepted all this — the lack of choice, that is something I’m familiar with.”

“You, however, fought to the bitter end.” He continued, “very valiantly, I might add. As is your nature.”

“It didn't work.” Hermione said softly. Admitting defeat to Draco Malfoy never seemed possible before — but now? It felt almost inescapable, the partnership that was materializing between them. Like the golden thread of fate was tightening around their wrists.

“You’ll figure out a way to make them suffer.”

“Not my nature,” Hermione said, finishing her glass of champagne, “That’s yours.”

The clock read 11:40pm. It seemed they could no longer avoid fate.

“If we don’t consummate,” Malfoy was saying, voice sounding far away, “And the punishment is a fine, I can pay it. I won’t pretend I’m not above bribery, either. I — we — have a lot of money. Perhaps we could buy the Minister an island? Do you think he’d like that?”

“Harry said the punishment was prison time.”

“Hm.”

Hermione stood from her chair by the fire and smoothed the nightgown over her legs, fingers trembling slightly. “Thank you,” She said, “For offering to pay a fine for me. And for hypothetically bribing the minister of magic with an island. But I think — I think this is just unavoidable. We’ll be okay.”

He smiled again, soft like the fuzzy clouds at sunrise. Hermione had never really noticed how his smile changed his entire face. “Yes,” he said, watching as she moved across the room, “We’ll be just fine.”

She lay down on the bed, closer to him now then she had been in years. The last time they’d touched had been when he’d clutched her shoulders the day of the trials, fingers tight around her flesh. When he’d apologized to her in that dimly lit hallway, tears tracking down his cheeks, uncaring of who saw.

Hermione found dwelling on the past did no one any good, but for once, she was glad he’d done so; if only for the growth that accompanied him with the passage of time.

Glad, that if this was going to happen, she would face the future with this version of Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy shifted, looming above her, his fingers finding the strap of her nightgown, twisting the fabrics softly before firmly pressing his hands on either side of her body. The mattress refused to creak, the only sound in the room their soft breaths.

“On or off?”

He waited politely for her answer, but his hands betrayed his tension, clutching almost angrily at the sheets, in danger of ripping them. Rich people, Hermione thought, could afford to rip their sheets. They could simply buy new ones.

“On.” Hermione said in a thick voice.

“On.” Malfoy agreed. “I’m going to touch you now.”

“Yes.” Hermione wished she was someone brighter, someone like Ginny or even Lavender. If they’d been assigned Malfoy, the room wouldn’t feel so thick and heavy. They’d be able to smile — they wouldn’t be frozen beneath him, skin as rigid as the bones underneath. “Alright.”

“You’re so much smaller up close.” Malfoy murmured, surprising both of them. “From afar, it’s easy to convince myself you’re a titan, towering above us mortals. But here, I think it’s undeniable.”

“I was taller when we were kids.” Was the response Hermione decided to give him. “Do you remember? I used to be taller than Harry.”

“I remember.” His thumb was rubbing circles against the top of her thigh. Just touching the skin, nothing scandalous, but Hermione felt a bit like a puritan seeing ankles for the first time.

“Do you think our child will be tall?” She asked, “Like you are?”

His touch faltered for a bit, a crack appearing in his perfect facade. For a moment, his eyes were bright, hungry. Then, he resumed his lazy touch, fingers slowly tracing down her legs, beneath her nightgown.

“I hope they inherit all your goodness.” Malfoy said roughly, “And they inherit all my height.”

Hermione had never thought about being a mother, never considered that a possibility — she certainly had never expected to become a parent with Draco Malfoy. But a life with Harry had inadvertently prepared Hermione to adapt to her environment, like those frogs that change genders.

“I’ll need to stretch you a bit.” Malfoy was saying, sliding down her body. Hermione wondered when she should start calling him Draco. Surely, soon, with the home he'd seemed to have made for himself between her thighs. “Please, just try to relax.”

“Right.”

His hot breath on her center was the only warning Hermione received before he was licking her, tongue twisting its way inside her cunt, thumb lazily rubbing her clit. She was wet, not an embarrassing amount, but not enough for him to grunt his approval, the vibration sending a shudder skittering up her spine.

“Oh,” she gasped, hips squirming against his hold, “Wha — what are you doing?”

“Shh,” he hushed her, words mumbled against her cunt, “It’s rude to interrupt.”

Then, he closed his lips around her clit and sucked, his sloppy noises filling the room. Distantly, Hermione heard someone babbling, broken cries and unfinished sentences — it took a moment to realize that voice was her own. Heat, like fire, like a dragon, spread across her body.

He was pressing her to his face, fingers digging into her flesh; each time she withered away from his tongue, his lips, even his teeth, his grip tightened, an arm pressed against the flesh of her stomach.

Finally, finally, finally, she felt one his fingers slip across her folds, sliding through the wetness. Malfoy’s fingers were so much thicker than her own, entering her with a bluntness she wasn’t accustomed to, twisting her open. Fucking her slowly, with no clear intention of quickening his pace.

“After the war,” Malfoy said, licking up her cunt with leisure, “When we were at school, I wanted to be near you every second. It was like waking up and realizing I could actually see the sun.”

She remembered, even now, through her trembling limbs, how he’d looked at her during their 8th year. It hadn’t been a predator's gaze, but one of blatant observation. Like he was truly seeing her for the first time; finally allowing himself to look.

“What a gift it is.” He murmured against her, a second finger sliding to join the first, a pleasant burn beginning to overtake Hermione, bubbling over the surface, spreading across her flesh, “The privilege to bask in your warmth.”

He devoured her until she came with a wail, on an exhale, head tossed back. Hermione twisted and twisted and twisted away, but his hold was firm. It hadn’t been like that with the others, rarely, it had even been like that with herself.

“Will that be enough?” She sniffed.

He pulled his cock out for her to see.

“Three fingers, then.” Hermione said, voice unsteady.

It was 11:53pm by the time he’d stretched her to his liking.

“Hermione.”

Hermione jerked at the use of her first name. “Yes?” She hiccuped.

He squinted up at her, hair falling over his eyes. He really looked like a stupid fairytale prince, even now, with his face glistening, wet with her, it was completely unfair. “Think of someone else. It’ll help this part.”

To her credit, Hermione tried to follow his directions.

Visions of Harry’s eyes morphed into gray, Ron’s arms around her torso tightened, the way she imagined he would clutch her to his chest — Seamus’s moans grew deeper, like his voice.

It seemed all roads led back to Draco Malfoy, and Hermione was too tired to contemplate the importance of that realization.

Earlier, he’d called her valiant. Brave. Said it was part of her nature, woven into her bones. If she had nothing left, she’d still have her bravery. Perhaps, it was time to use the courage everyone insisted she possessed.

“I’m not thinking of anyone else.”

Malfoy looked like someone had shot him. “What?”

“I’m not thinking of anyone else.” Hermione repeated loudly. Maybe he had a minor head cold and was having difficulty hearing her, “I’m thinking about you.”

“But I told you to think of the others.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a dog.” Hermione scoffed. “I don’t blindly follow your orders.”

She ignored the way he smiled at her.

She felt him then, between her legs. Warm and heavy, a weight on her thigh, a promise for what was to come. “I’m,” Malfoy looked upset, angrier than before with the sheets, “I’m sorry that this happened. That it’s me.”

“I’m not.” The orgasms had loosened her limbs, a crack across a frozen pond; speaking to him seemed easier now, less world shattering. “I’m glad it’s you. I’ve fucked both my friends, it’s only natural that I’d carry on to my enemies next.”

“You think I'm your enemy?”

“No,” She sighed, “I think you’re my husband.”

“Say that again.”

“Husband.” She repeated. “You are my husband.”

“And you are my wife.”

Earlier cowardice forgotten, Hermione smiled up at him, all teeth. Malfoy blinked, like someone had turned on the lights. “ I’ve thought about you fucking me before.” She said softly, “Have you thought about me?”

Malfoy groaned, like he was in pain. “Constantly,” he said. “An agonizing amount. It’s time for me to fuck a baby into you. I’ll fill you up, alright? Will you let me?”

Hermione managed a confident nod.

The feel of all of him, tossed her head back.

Unfair, completely unfair, that this experience belonged to him, when already so many parts of her were his, too. His ownership over her mind had been a subtle acquisition, but this new feeling, the one burning through her, seemed to happen all at once.

“Such a good girl,” Malfoy grunted, “allowing me between your thighs.”

Then, he began to move, and the entire world seemed to tilt off axis.

Everything seemed to melt away, all that remained was Draco, the drag of his cock inside her.

She weakly clutched his arm when his fingers slid to her clit again, rubbing slow, agonizing circles. He smiled at the tears that stuck to her eyelashes, and it was a little mean.

“I won’t last,” he managed to say, “come on my cock, that’s a good girl, let me feel it.”

She felt when he came inside of her, heat spreading across her stomach. Winced slightly, when he kept fucking her, soft thrusts, fucking his cum deeper inside her.

“Have to make it stick.” He slurred.

“We can try again.” Hermione sighed, finally allowing her fingers to drag through his hair. Soft, softer than she thought it’d be — felt him twitch inside of her when she spoke. Wondered if her voice alone had the power to bring him to his knees.

“Has no one ever made you come before?” He hummed, “Does that job only belong to your husband?”

“You’ve never had a job in your life.”

She felt his smile against her skin. “Then I’ll need lots of practice.”

[cursed-dagger]

we have but one life.

why would you read "classical literature" and "philosophy" and "actual books published by world renowned authors" when you can read dramione smut written by a redbull fuelled college student at 3 in the morning

[ecstarry]

Why does james potter feel like a sunny day at a farmers market in a coastal village

[lizziepooh]

petition for jegulus and wolfstar car racing au fics

here are some spewage of ideas to entice you:

(psa ik nothing about cars so pls don’t hurt me for the way i describe these scenarios)

Fast and Furious Remus/James x F1 Sirius/Regulus where the Black brothers are rich so they easily could afford track racing from a young age and honed their skills so that they were the best in the sport because that’s what the Blacks do and then James and Remus work for a mechanic shop (or something) and they’ve been building/driving muscle cars and street cars and got into street racing also at a young age. Then a black brother brings in his fancy street car and bam they meet and bam race fic.

Street racing jegulus au where James is the best but Reggie beats him in a race and the tension of competition leads to tension in other areas but no one knows who Regulus is or where he came from he just showed up with a cap and mask in a super nice fast car (idk anything about cars but it’s a nice and fast) to only drive against James who also has a nice fast car and then beats him so James and everyone is like who is this super talented person we’ve never seen and how did he beat the best!? And then James and Sirius are bestie-bros after Sirius left his toxic household so James does know of Regulus and Regulus does too and has the whole “you stole my brother” thing so bam, tension and bam, angsty jegulus race fic.

And there’s so much room for supporting side characters like Peter and the skittles etc!!

vroom vroom gay love is all i ask for ♥️

[lizziepooh]

drove by this pub earlier now i have a new remus headcanon <3

[stareggie]

regulus: and just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, you want to fuck a guy with glasses…

james: *from the distance* HEY-

[lizziepooh]

relatable reggie, relatable