#genderbentau

[musicbarrage]

Closed starter for @lives-by-moonlight

Ari was walking the hall of Hogwarts heading to the teacher's meeting a bit later. Which was unlike him. He was not truly paying attention to where he was going and bumped into someone dropping all his folders contents spilling everywhere. " I'm so so sorry!" He replied bowing politely before bending down to start picking them up.

Once he got everything back in his folders. He stood back up. " My apologies once again!"

[musicbarrage]

I really wanna try to genderbent au soon so if anyone wants too like this post and I'll get some starters out ^^

[a-natural-response-blog-blog]

the-test-all-fail (For sending in ☿)

"Fuck." Bei whispered to herself as she dropped one of the slide covers on the floor. She looked around, glad to see that no one had noticed her blunder, before dropping to her knees to pick it up. "Oh, come on. It can't have gotten far." She whined, tucking some of the loose strands of white hair behind her ear as she patted the floor. Oh man if her professor saw her like this he would have such a fit.

As if on cue, she heard the door open. Panic flooded her systems as she tried to stand and make herself presentable to whoever was coming in when she banged her head against the table. "Ow!" She yelped, grabbing the top of her head with a soft whimper. "Why me."

[higgystar]

Fanfiction: A perfect evening in

Osvalda has worked hard her entire life to get where she is. From striving beyond her family name, ignoring her older sisters and their success and continuing to compete with competition such as the Waynes, taking on the big dogs and not stepping down. She knows that she is fierce, she is powerful and everything that she has is because of herself and her own determination. So of course when you have everything, it’s always nice to indulge occasionally and what better way to do it than with a friend?

Being at the top of her game as she is and what with the criminal world being what it is, she has very few people that she could actually call a friend. Edina though is different. She is a true friend, someone who isn’t using her for her power or wealth, Edina can strive on her own, she doesn’t cling for Osvalda’s possessions, she comes around to spend time with her and that’s something new.

“So I stabbed him right in the eye!” Osvalda ends her tale, pressing the cigar to her lips with a chuckle as her guest and workers all join in. They’re in the hot tub, the bubbles popping around them as they relax, having a perfect Friday evening together.

Normally Osvalda doesn’t like to have her little birds joining in with her when they could be downstairs working the room and the paying customers, but it’s really not as enjoyable to play poker with only two people. The boys may only be laughing because she’s their boss, but it’s the thought that counts and the noise in itself is bringing a warm atmosphere.

“He deserved it, the fool should know better than to speak back to you.” Edina sips on her champagne, lifting her legs from the water to place them in the lap of Canary besides her. She may not necessarily prefer brawn over brains, but sometimes it’s nice to appreciate an appealing body when you can. Canary smirks to her, placing his free hand on her feet to give her a massage as his other hand holds the cards closer to his chest. “Hey I’m not a cheater, I can beat you whilst playing by the rules.”

“Oh I have no doubt you can.” Canary chuckles, biting his cards between his teeth so he can throw in a few chips on the waterproof board suspended over the hot tub. Taking his cards back in hand he continues. “It’s Dove I don’t trust.”

“Hey!” Dove scowls, splashing water over the board to him, making Osvalda squawk with laughter as her hair is dampened with the bubbles. “I’m not a cheater. “

“No you’re just a loser.” She ups her bet, using the moments of laughter to glance around at her opponents and see if she can see their tells. Edina is as always unreadable, despite being a very honest person she’s extremely good at bluffing and almost always takes Osvalda’s money. “All right, show me what you’ve got.”

Dove sighs, shuffling his hand, huffing a little before throwing his cards down, not even bothering to show them face up. “I’m out, godamn it.” Osvalda watches as he slumps back against the side of the tub, pouting like a child before grabbing his beer and gulping down a few mouthfuls. Rolling her eyes Osvalda wonders why she ever hired such a childish individual, then he stretches and she remembers every single reason she hired him.

“I got two pair.” Canary sets down his cards, looking eager to earn some extra tips for the night. His fingers are already itching for the reward, tapping at the edge of the table eagerly.

“Hold your horses there, I got a full house.” Osvalda plays her own hand, putting down the cigar as she leans forward, enjoying the whine of annoyance from Canary as she awaits Edina’s move.

As usual Edina put on a show, sighing, huffing, lifting her foot for more footrubs and sipping on her champagne before leaning closer. “That’s a good hand, I mean really it is. Damn it’s been a long night, I must be getting tired or something because I only have a flush!”

Osvalda groans as Edina bounces in her seat, scooping up her winnings and throwing the chips in the air so they shower down on them all in a rain of plastic. The calls of being a champion, a genius and winner are a little overbearing, but to be honest she’s used to it from Edina. The bubbles fly everywhere as the chips hit the water and Canary and Dove look a little put out to not be getting anything.

Nodding her head to the boys, Osvalda gestures for them to go and get them some towels to dry off with, their final round of poker done with for the night. They’re of course happy to oblige, quickly patting themselves dry from the water before each hold out a towel for each woman.

Edina is still grinning as she wraps herself up, no shame as she tucks the towel tightly around her body and wears it as a make shift dress for the time being. Osvalda is a little more refined, drying herself off a little before covering herself with a soft dressing gown, taking up another cigar and having Dove light it for her. Canary brings out a chair for Edina, letting the ladies seat themselves before the boys bring them more drinks for the evening.

Settling herself comfortably in her plush, overstuffed armchair, Osvalda closes her eyes for a moment. There aren’t many people in her life that she feels completely comfortable around, but Edina is one of them. There’s something about the other woman that makes her feel at ease, she doesn’t have to watch her back when she’s around Edina, and that’s a nice change from her usual meetings with people.

“I take it you’re staying here tonight then?” Osvalda asks, watching as Edina makes herself comfortable in her seat, looking more at home here than she does in her own home.

“If you don’t mind a pyjama party?” Edina knows she’s more than welcome but Osvalda is always pleased to see that she doesn’t lose her manners, even if she feels comfortable.

“Of course not, the boys always enjoy your company as well.” Dove and Canary offer nods and murmurs of agreement, being the perfect assistants as they should be. “And sometimes it’s enjoyable to have a girls’ night in.”

The evening flies by, drinks get sipped, cigars are smoked and stories are shared. It’s a wonderful time for the pair of them, getting to just be themselves and not their personas that they have to portray to the world. Being strong is all well and good, but sometimes it was just nice to be able to relax without the world taking advantage of it.

As they leave for the bedroom, Osvalda tugs on Edina’s hand, wanting to spend time away from the boys and just with her friend. There was something about having a female friend that made her feel whole, feel more like a lady and damn she enjoyed not having to fight in order to be seen as herself. Edina lingers in the doorway, watching the boys as they tidy up behind them, tugging Osvalda back for a moment with an impish grin on her face.

“Oh boys?” Dove and Canary look up immediately, freezing in place with worry that they’d done something wrong. “I dropped my chips from before. If you find them and bring them to me in the morning I’ll reimburse you the same amount. Well, one of you.”

Edina giggles as Osvalda squawks in laughter, both of them watching with glee as the boys dive back into the hot tub and wrestle with each other to try and find all the scattered chips. 

[asphodellic]

I am right now eating a shit ton of sushi and drowning in Draca Malfoy feels. Like I have so many thoughts about her childhood and the way she would have grown up feeling about her femininity and her future.

Like, there's Lucius being all disappointed and unhappy about having a daughter, and making Draca feel like she had to work harder to earn his praise and affection, but then there's Narcissa, who is like this perfect pureblood lady and Draca grows up just wanting to be like her mother, but feeling torn between her love of pretty things and clothes and shoes and wanting to be strong and powerful.

And of course no one ever told her that she could be both.

[asphodellic]

Draca wakes up in the middle of the night, tears streaking her face and eyes puffy and red. She cries in her sleep often enough, transported back to when she was a child, desperate for approval, and she presses her face into the pillow, not wanting to wake Harry, knowing she has an early day ahead of her.

And she doesn't want comforting. She doesn't want to hear the same things her mother had told her when she was younger -- he loves you, darling; he doesn't understand you; it's not your fault -- because none of that had ever helped. It just made her cry harder, drowning in her inferiority.

Of course now there are other things she cries about: the harsh black lines on her otherwise creamy skin, memories of her mother's screams, her own screams. Watching people hit the floor of the Manor with the light gone from their eyes as the Dark Lord stood over their bodies and laughed, his eyes promising pain to anyone who did not laugh as well. More pain, at any rate.

And her sobs choke her. She can't breathe, nose clogged and throat closing. And the room is too hot and too stifling, and there's no air--

Draca doesn't want to close her eyes again. They've fallen asleep at Grimmauld Place, sweaty and tired after a Seeker's game in the garden and then sex in the shower, and Draca likes the house at night because there is more room to wander.

She lets her feet carry her from the bedroom down the hall, still crying, but silently now. Eventually she ends up in the library, curled in on herself in one of the armchairs, her hair hiding her face.

When the door clicks open, Draca doesn't look up. The footsteps are light, and she knows that Harry will be there, hair rumpled and half dressed, concern in those eyes, and she doesn't want to see it.

"Draca?"

She flinches.

"Hey, look at me."

She shakes her head.

"Please?"

Draca lifts her eyes and looks at Harry for just a second before her gaze darts away. Some women can cry and look beautiful (her mother, for instance), but she is not one of them. She looks like a hag with a head cold, and she hates for Harry to see her this way.

It only takes a matter of seconds for Harry to see her face before she is pushing her way into the chair and pulling Draca against her, hands stroking any bit of skin they can find. Draca knows that Harry knows about nightmares and feeling small and alone in the dark, so she allows it, even if it makes her feel somehow smaller.

"Just a dream," Harry murmurs in her ear. "It was just a dream."

"Based on reality," Draca manages.

"Point. But it's not your reality anymore."

And it's a valid point. Her reality now is studying for the Healing exams and arguing over where they're going to sleep. Trying to learn to make eggs without setting the kitchen on fire. But the past never really goes away, and Draca knows that Harry knows that, too.

It's not enough to make her get up and go back to the bed, and it's not even enough to make her stop crying, but she does lean into Harry's embrace and rest her head on her shoulder. Draca closes her eyes and breathes out shakily.

She is still hurting and she still feels lost, but she is grateful.

[asphodellic]

The Room of Requirement is just a room, and the person between her legs is just a person, except for the fact that it's Harriet bloody Potter, and she's not quite sure how they've gotten here. All she knows is that it feels amazing, and that Potter is as skilled with her fingers and tongue as she is at getting nearly killed, which is to say, really fucking good at it.

They haven't even got a bed, just a desk that Draca is sitting on, her legs spread obscenely wide and her knickers...somewhere else. And Potter is fucking feasting on her. Licking and lapping and working her open like she is a treat. There is urgency, but she's also savoring her, and it makes Draca blush, though she is no stranger to sex.

A moan vibrates through her, but it isn't her own, and when she looks down, she can see that Potter has two of the fingers of her other hand half buried inside of her, and the thought that Harriet Potter is getting off on getting her off is enough to make her nearly come undone right there.

But Potter isn't finished yet. She gets up and pushes her back so that she is lying on the desk. Her fingers (still sticky and wet) undo the buttons on Draca's shirt and then pull down the cups of her bra, revealing the pale mounds of her breasts and the hardened pink nipples.

That clever tongue turns to them, and Draca arches, grabbing for Potter's hair and tugging for a moment before pushing her away.

Potter looks disappointed, so Draca smirks and in a flash of movement, flips their positions.

She can give as good as she gets.

[agentham]

✆

[unsent] I know you like Gib.

[unsent] I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.

[unsent] I’m sorry.