#for all we know the hater could have been a student he met the first time he arrived which is how im treating it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nights-legacy · 3 years

Note

Aizawa x his student reader with a plasma quirk (basically has plasma beams) and nobody wants to be their friend because they are scared of her? How would he comfort her ect;

Here you go!!! I hope you like it!!

That's on Them, Not You - Aizawa x Student!Reader

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

Platonic Student/Teacher relationship

Hints of Kiri and Kami comfort at the end.

I sat alone at a lunch table just picking at my food. I pushed the rice around the bowl. I looked up when I heard hushed chatter nearby. A group of students at the table next to mine quickly turned around as my gaze met them. I could see them glancing over their shoulders at me. I sighed and looked down at my food again. What little appetite I had was instantly gone.

“Whatever.” I said to myself before getting up and leaving the table. I threw away my food and left the cafeteria. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and wandered the halls. Lunch had just started so I had time before class.

“Shit, watch out.” I looked and saw two students. They were looking at me and went to the complete other side of the hall to walk past. My eyes fell to the floor when I could nearly feel the fear roll off of them.

In reality, everyone seemed to be scared of me. I was a late entry into UA. I was a part of Class 1-B and have yet to even make one friend. Some people seemed interested in being friends but the changed on my first day of quirk training. I accidentally blow something up with my quirk the injured a few students and even the teacher pretty badly. Ever since then, everyone has avoided me.

Someone even started a rumor that I did it on purpose. I even heard the word villain used once or twice. The teachers had quickly shut that down but the damage was done. I was black balled. Not even Monoma wanted anything to do with my quirk.

I made my way outside and sat under a tree. I lit the plasma in my hand. I watched as it glowed and dimmed, swirled, and sizzle. I could feel the heat creep up my arm. I deactivated my quirk and curled into myself. I pulled my knees into my chest and set my head down and cried. I quietly sobbed until a hand on my shoulder scared me.

“Sh, it’s alright.” I looked up to see Aizawa-sensei. I furiously wiped the tears from my face.

“Sensei. Is something wrong?” I asked, tucking my legs under me.

“Yes something is.” He squatted down in front of me. “Something has you crying, outside, all alone during lunch.” He looked at me expectantly.

“I, I, I…” I stuttered before clamping my mouth shut and looking down at me hands in my lap. I heard him sigh. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry again. A sob escaped from my throat. “They call me a villain!” I choked out and then heard him move and sit next to me. He set a hand on my back.

“Let it out.” He said quietly.

“They call me a villain! All because of me not being able to completely control my quirk. It was an accident!!” I exclaimed. “I can only hold it and send the plasma out in a beam and be able to control it. Everything else is still touch and go.” I took a breath. “God! Everyone is freaking scared of me. My quirk is only slightly different from the Bakugo kid and people aren’t scared of him…well yes people are but they still go around him and he has friends. People don’t actively avoid him, go to the complete other side of the hall way to avoid being near him, and and and I just don’t get it!” I screamed before I started to lose my breath.

“Hey, hey. Alright.” He rubbed my back. “I need to calm down a bit. You’re starting to hyperventilate. Try and breathe deep. In and out. In and out.” I tried to follow but the few sobs that escaped hindered my progress. He sighed before he pulled me to sit back against the tree. He moved in front of me.

“I can’t…breathe. Sen…sei.” I choked.

“Sh, hey…” He made me look up at him. There was black rim appearing around my vision.

“Aizawa-sensei? Is everything alright?” I heard male voice.

“Oh shit.” Another come up. A red head boy knelt down next to him. A yellow haired boy stood behind him. I recognized both of them from Class 1-A. “What happened?”

“She’s in the midst of a panic attack. Can you two back up a bit?” They nodded and backed up. “Close your eyes, L/N. Try to not think of anything. I know it’s hard but at least try. Or try and only focus on your breathing.” I nodded and did as he said. I was able to clear my head and only focus on my breathing.

“I’m sorry.” I said.

“No, don’t be sorry.” Aizawa whispered. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” We all sat quiet until my breathing went back to normal. I opened my eyes and the two boys smiled at me while Aizawa checked me over. He even went as far as to check my pulse. “Good. Now, listen to me. What everyone says about you, the being a villain, that you hurt your classmates and teacher on purpose…you know they’re all false. I know that and the other teachers know that.”

“But…”

“No. You know who you are, what you can do, and your limitation. If the other students don’t see that and believe the overdramatic rumors flying around, then that’s on them. Not you. So don’t listen to them. You prove to them who you are and if they don’t want to have anything to do with you, don’t quote me on this, screw ‘em.”

“Yeah!” The red head whose name I remembered is Kirishima exclaimed. “And I sounds to me like your trying to associate yourself with the wrong people.”

“I agree.” The yellowed hair one nodded along. I couldn’t remember his name unfortunately.

“You’ll be alright. You have only been here for a short time. I am sure you will find where you belong and the right people to share your time with.” He said glancing over his shoulder lightly. Aizawa placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Thank Aizawa-sensei.” I got up and so did he.

“Ahh, soft Aizawa. This is a change.” Kirishima joked. Aizawa turned towards his students.

“If I find out this ever left your lips, you two are as good as expelled.” They paled and nodded. The yellow one even went as far as to salute. I giggled and Aizawa nodded and walked off. I turned to the boys before blushing in embarrassment.

“Hi, I’m Eijiro Kirishima.”

“And I’m Denki Kaminari.”

“Hi…I’m Y/N L/N.” I said softly.

“You’re the girl with the plasma quirk right?” Kaminari asked. I flinched a little but nodded. “Wicked. It’s so cool.”

“I agree, man! You definitely shouldn’t listen to the haters. They are just jealous.”

“And scared.” I said. Their expression turned to ones of sympathy.

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean that you have to reserve yourself away.” Kaminari said. He held out a hand. “Now come on cutie. We still have time before lunch is over. We know a few people who definitely won’t be scared of you.” I looked at him surprised. I looked over at Kirishima. He nodded. I smiled before taking his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s our pleasure.” Kirishima said chuckling. “Just don’t take offense if Bakugo insults you right of the bat. That is just how he is.” I laughed and shook my head. They led me back to the cafeteria. In the corner of my eye is saw a black clothed figure. I looked and saw Aizawa. He smiled and nodded at me.

Thank you. I mouthed to him. He bowed a bit in return.

If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me. He mouthed back. I nodded. He set a hand over his heart before his stature turned to his normal sleepy self. He turned and walk away.

“Wait a minute. Did you call me cutie?” I suddenly remembered. Kaminari and Kirishima laughed.

“Yeah, he’s a hopeless flirt.” Kirishima said.

“Hey!” Kaminari whined. I laughed as they began to argue. Maybe it’s not so bad.

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ichayalovesyou · 2 years

Text

Does the SNW Finale Teaser Mean an Alternate Universe?

I don’t think there’s as much evidence that the show is going that direction as people act like there is (or, might want there to be).

Okay, first off, I wanna clarify that it is possible, that they’re gonna make SNW an alternate universe. I just don’t think that’s what’s gonna happen, and I would actually really dislike it if they did. But I’ll get into the latter after we lay down some facts.

We know two major plot points from the teasers for A Quality of Mercy. There are things that we DO know, and things we DON’T know.

We know that there is a skirmish at the Federation Neutral Zone border with what we assume to be Romulans based on their weaponry and the fact that we don’t get to see their faces.

That being said it could be a red herring and/or the ultimate end result of the combat we get glimpses of that they can’t confirm it was the Romulans on the record without starting another war. So effectively, what we see later in Balance of Terror remains true, no one has (legally/officially/technically) encountered or at least seen the Romulans since the Romulan War. It’s a technicality pre-TOS Star Trek has used before. It could be a hit and run.

The second is Mat Al Salal (I think that’s how it’s spelt), the boy from Pike’s future, one of the two cadets he wasn’t/will not be able to save. Pike obviously wants to do something, change things, save him somehow, alter the future for this kid’s sake if not for his own.

But, we still don’t know if he can, or what will happen if he tries. What if Pike trying to save Mat gets him killed in the skirmish? What if what he does during the skirmish only makes Mat more deadset on joining Starfleet even if Chris deliberately discourages him? If Mat dies or doesn’t join Starfleet, does a different cadet join that same class and die in his stead? If Pike ensures that entire class is a student short, does that change what happens to him? Will two students still die even if the class is smaller? There’s no way to know!

The reason I don’t like the idea of Strange New Worlds breaking off into an alternate timeline is that it feels… empty, like a cop out, pointless. Both on a story level and on a meta/real world level.

One of the big themes of Strange New Worlds has been coping/adapting to what you can’t change, and changing what you can when you can. I feel as though Pike dodging what appears to be the inevitable with no consequences to himself or the Enterprise crew, undercuts that message.

Part of Spock (and everyone else’s) character development would be smudged out of the main narrative and that doesn’t sit right with me. It feels like they’re building an explanation as to why things are how they are between characters in TOS through the show through SNW.

Then in regards to a real life sense it feels like letting the “haters” for lack of a better term, win. It’s like if the showrunners decided “hey, some people hated TNG/DS9/VOY, do you know what’s fix it? Making the show like it never happened!” which would severely water down the narrative/message of those shows, almost as badly as claiming it was all a dream!

It’s not like the Kelvin timeline where the character dynamics were rebuilt from the ground up. Based on a fundamental change in historical events before any of the characters ever met. It’d feel like a serious lack of payoff for what things seem to be building toward if all that character development vanished into a divergent timeline (also how would there be a double of the Enterprise and why would that change their character/story arcs now?)

The reason that it works for the Kelvin timeline is that there’s a well established sequence of events so it’s cool to see how things play out differently. If SNW broke off into another timeline we’d have no primary timeline to compare/contrast to which takes a lot of the fun out of it. You know how everyone collectively disregards Enterprise being a “holodeck simulation” because it was such a shitty, hollow move? Yeah that!

So, suffice to say, I’d be a bit peeved if they went the alternate timeline route. And I think it’s a testament to how interesting a concept Pike’s character arc is if that is one of the most boring options!

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Note

For the Thank You Next can you do Imagine with James Potter?

thank you, next.

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: you go through the stages of love till you find your person.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mutual pinning, over use of sarcasm it’s so bad, SWEARING, kissing, mentions of kissing, mentions of an arm falling off, mentions of injury

—0:00

‘Thought I'd end up with Sean

But he wasn't a match

Wrote some songs about Ricky

Now I listen and laugh

Even almost got married

And for Pete, I'm so thankful

Wish I could say "thank you" to Malcolm

'Cause he was an angel’

one day, when you’re young, your mother tells you, ‘there’s lots of fish in the sea, but you have to wait for the right catch’ or maybe that was just your deranged mother. normally, you thought all of that was bullshit. a slytherin princess should never be mistreated, someone whomst you honour and adore with all in your beating heart; turns out slytherin boys didn’t get the fucking memo.

the only person who did understand was the one and only, regulus arcturus black. but you unfortunately lacked sexual attraction to him so therefore you couldn’t date him, so that was a feigning issue. evan rosier was fit, top of his classes and a quite nice mop of blonde on his head, he was a quidditch player and a pureblood slytherin; so etiquette is to be clearly expected. too other schoolmates, especially the fawning girls of almost every house, he was probably the full package, one of the alpha males that roamed the hallways at hogwarts; oh were those girls the biggest knob heads to exist.

turns out he was just the biggest fucking dick to ever walk the planes of the earth, he ran around with idiots like lucius malfoy— another mistake of the century, and little severus snape; thank merlin, and salazar slytherin themselves you never resorted to him.

‘One taught me love

One taught me patience

And one taught me pain

Now, I'm so amazing

Say I've loved and I've lost

But that's not what I see

So, look what I got

Look at what you taught me

And for that, I say’

normally your first couple of boyfriends should teach you something out of the relationship, maybe what you needed to strengthen for the next time you were in an intimate relationship, like trust, communication, maybe even sexual intimacy.

all these absolute dunces taught you was to pick your boyfriends better, and to stay away from every slytherin male that had ever entered hogwarts. evan— oh, he only taught you that everyone and everything was a priority over you, always the ‘talk to you later.’ and the casual, ‘blowjob?’ comments; absolutely fucking arse. lucius, couldn’t forget his moto in your mind even if you jammed it in your strongly-witted brain that money was power and money over any atom to every exist.

regulus understood, strict pureblood parents but he still understood how to treat a partner. i guess it was nice not picking up every habit of walburger and onion— sorry, walburga and orion, noble heirs of the house of black. yeah, did i mention they were second cousins?

‘Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)’

“you could always hang out with my brothers mates, i see them not casually oogling you.” oh regulus, sometimes you did lack the slytherin wit and ambition. he was sprawled on the malachite coloured couch, a pearly white quill fumbled between his slender digits as he started aimlessly into oblivion at the dying out fire in the midst of the frigid common room.

“yeah, let me go hang out with my best friends brothers friends, slytherin haters! such a good idea, reg. maybe they should’ve put you in ravenclaw from that amazing idea!” if you were sarcastic before, there aren’t a non-vulgar amount of words in the universe to describe the tremendous mockery in your tone; as you intensely stared into the crevices of the ceiling while laying on the opposite viridescent sofa.

“merlin, tone down the sarcasm a bit? i was just offering, it’s not like your a pureblood, or a prat.” regulus offered, looking at your form, your elbow now covering your eyes and making recurring heavy sighs every few minutes. “being a half-blood is enough for hatred, regulus, m’dear.” you sighed again, in defeat. hopeless romantic and hated by many, fantastic, am i right?

‘Spend more time with my friends

I ain't worried 'bout nothin'

Plus, I met someone else

We're havin' better discussions

I know they say I move on too fast

But this one gon' last

'Cause her name is Ari

And I'm so good with that (so good with that)’

don’t think, breath and just do what your heart tells you to. fuck that— panic, cry, scream, whatever, be scared. you were gaping at the red mass and overdue of shades, it wasn’t ugly but definitely not the prettiest colour to exist; mixed with mustard yellow. gryffindor students absolutely covered in both. well students, no, james potter, yes.

he happen to be your victim, well friend of sirius; regulus did say after all they oogled you, whatever that meant. you both played quidditch, pretty decent grades, both had good humour, your more so, i mean c’mon you couldn’t find that wit just anywhere, and well you could be best friends. well friends, acquaintances, maybe one, possibly. if only you had the confidence of a leo male, all you needed was to strut over to the damn quidditch field and say something, literally anything.

so that’s exactly what you did, your shoes crunching against the no-longer damp grass, dry after morning dew showers. your bag hanging off of your left arm, your head preoccupied with ways on how to greet someone because slytherin etiquette right now was not the way to go; it would only cause assumptions and stereotypes. i mean who the actual fuck says, ‘how do you do?’ anymore.

‘She taught me love (love)

She taught me patience (patience)

She handles pain (pain)

That amazing (yeah, she's amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I say’

enemies, nope. acquaintances, don’t think so. friends, getting there. close friends, i would say. if someone ever said they saw james fleamont potter hanging around a slytherin they would’ve assumed that someone was knocked upside the head with the biggest beaters bar you could find, but the green and red weren’t that bad of a mix after all.

henceforth, here you were giggling like school girls with james fucking potter right by the black lake. “james, respectfully, stop carrying that stupid snitch everywhere. doesn’t it weigh down your pockets?” you queried the boy who was fumbling with the golden snitch for the past three minutes, flipping his hair so he could knock the brunette tendrils from his eyes while he gaped at you.

you were glowing— the sun at its highest peek, he could’ve been on his knees thanking albus dumbledore in his office for free period; knowing james we would’ve offered to comb his beard and maybe even a shampoo and condition it while he was at it.

your eyes glittered as you chortled at him for dropping that stupid ball for the third time, your hair dancing in the wind like it was a routine, a perfect routine, your teeth glinting at the suns ethereal rays that hit you just right. imagine if james’ foolish cocky mask instead would’ve rejected your offer of friendship that one humid day on the quidditch pitch— he would’ve been the biggest git to ever stride the planet.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next’

friends, that’s what it was suppose to be. pals, mates, schoolmates, whatever the fuck you called it. it wasn’t suppose to be frenemies, to friends to lovers! you weren’t suppose to notice the navy blue flecks of colour in his cerulean eyes, the way his lips curled in a smile after he caught that silly snitch that blazed the thick sure after a hefty match, the way he brushed the tresses of hair behind your ears when the wind was assaulting your face and you were basically swallowing your hair.

now sitting with him in the library you were mentally stabbing your stygian heart, why men. why do they do things, why do men sometimes have the decency to show sympathy, and partiality with their friends. he hugged you, he kissed your forehead when you felt dejected, james potter went through the slytherin common room to bring you chocolates on your period. which fucking gryffindor would do that, huh? definitely not frank longbottom or fabian prewett.

his hand scathed yours as he pointed at how to make a draught of peace potion, his hand was warm and smooth but only from what you touched— you could see slight callouses forming on the pads of pads palm from broom handling, and the small cracks in his knuckles from the lacking use of lotion. you felt the rapid rate of your heart merely increasing at the minute from the slight touch, a rush of rose clouded your cheeks. this was so embarrassing.

‘One day I'll walk down the aisle

Holding hands with my mama

I'll be thanking my dad

'Cause she grew from the drama

Only wanna do it once, real bad

Gon' make that last

God forbid something happens

Least this song is a smash (song is a smash)’

you were mid flight, smashing a bludger in the direction of the vermillion colours. even when you were immensely sweaty, intensely panting, abundantly tired, and your arm looked like it wanted to fall off he wanted to kiss the energy back into you. james loved winning against slytherin, it might’ve been his favourite thing at hogwarts; but he would murder a pack of death eaters if it meant he got to see your smile when your emerald-clad seeker clutched that small golden ball.

both teams landed, a handshake due for the game to be over after almost two continuous hours of playing and that stubborn ball blazing the air. he meant to walk over there, a hug overdue in his prideful way of saying congratulations but he did not think that he would’ve strided over to your panting figure and clasped your soft cushion lips with his own parched ones from the continuous heaving in his breath.

your lips tasted of peach, hints of mango. your lips dried of chapstick but still smooth— feeling the grooves in your lips, they were puffy and swollen probably from the tremendous amount of times you had bitten your lips in anxiety. your lips disconnected for a moment, suddenly realizing that you had an audience of your fellow slytherins, your enemy gryffindors and not one but two shocked crowds of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws suddenly watching the private scene unfold.

james cleared his throat, looking at your grinning face that was encased between his palms, your face was significantly flushed, your chest moving every millisecond at the loss of breath in your lungs. “good, uh, good game james.”

‘I've got so much love (love)

Got so much patience (patience)

I've learned from the pain (pain)

I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I'll say’

cocky, quidditch captain, school prankster, pureblood gryffindor, and head boy. that to the peering eyes of hogwarts was james potter, but he was so much more than that. he was like an onion, gross comparison but for the sake of it you’ll use it, he had layers but everyday it’s like you cried a little less and you peeled just a bit more.

he was benevolent, he guided first years to common rooms and sometimes he studied with fourth year hufflepuffs. he was sensible, sometimes, he helped out madame pomfrey in the healers wing when remus had been injured from a full moon along with any remaining students in the ward from previous incidents, not to mention, you did uncover remus’ ‘furry secret’ and swore to secrecy. and most of all, james was cherishing, he actually did give a fuck when you had a bad day, he stroked your back and hummed you stupid baby lullabies.

i mean could you imagine lucius malfoy and evan rosier humming a girl lullabies when they were upset? celebratory kisses after quidditch, bringing you snacks while you were overwhelmed in school work and actually made an effort in the relationship? they would’ve bought you a pair of red bottoms and called it a day.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Yeah’

there was infact one thing that your past relationships taught you;

never date a man to ever be put in the slytherin house ever again.

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wizardingworld-imagines · 4 years

Text

Secrets - Draco Malfoy

Pairing - Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Requested? - Yes! by @actyourownfandom-23

Word Count - 2k

Warnings - Umbridge. Need I say more?

A/N - I’m so so sorry that this took so long, however I hope I made up for it with the length and that it was worth the wait :)

Draco and Y/N were drawn to each other. There was an immediate spark, like fireworks going on a celebratory event for new years. There were only a few problems with their flirtations. Y/N was born to muggle parents, growing up without any knowledge of the wizarding world, until the Hogwarts letter arrived through their letter box. They were cautious, thinking it was some kind of prank or joke, but they eventually realised the truth and sent Y/N off to her new school for the next 7 years. She was also sorted into Gryffindor after arriving at Hogwarts, and swiftly made friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione. At Hogwarts, she would discover that she would find friendships that would last lifetimes, and a romance which was found in the strangest of places.

Y/N and Draco had been together for just over a year. They started getting closer in Third Year, when she helped look after him when his arm was injured by a hippogriff, who Y/N later came to learn was called Buckbeak when she helped Harry and Hermione save him. At the beginning of Fourth Year, Draco and Y/N started meeting in secret, spending tender moments together and Y/N learnt who Draco truly was. He was only a boy, manipulated by his father into believing extremist views, without little choice of his own. He had his reputation as a school bully, something most people would be cautious of, but Y/N understood why he did it. He was trying to gain his father’s approval, something he so desperately wanted that he’d sacrifice anything else for it. He could have done so many incredible things during his time at Hogwarts, yet he wasted his years being servile to someone who would never respect him.

When Umbridge came to the school, tensions were high. Y/N and Draco could no longer meet as often as they liked to, and their relationship was deteriorating quickly. Luckily, they were paired up in potions, allowing them to spend some time together.

‘No, Draco, you’re doing it wrong!’ Y/N exclaimed, as Draco ignored the instructions for the Draught of Peace, blissfully unaware of the adverse side effects caused by one small misstep. Draco turned to face Y/N, annoyance evident in his voice as he spat

‘I don’t need help from a mudblood, I bet you don’t even know how to brew the potion’

Draco’s eyes widened as he realised what he said, shame evident on his features. To anyone else he wouldn’t have cared, but he just insulted Y/N, his secret girlfriend of over a year. She stared back at him, outraged that he would say such a thing to her, but she couldn’t react. This was what he was like to everyone. She knew it wasn’t who he wanted to be, but he had been conditioned to think this way. ‘It wasn’t his fault’, she would tell herself, ‘it’s due to his upbringing.’ But surely he was at an age now where he could make his own decisions? Surely he didn’t have to keep trying to earn the respect of a father who might never be proud of him?

Y/N noticed the shame in his eyes, something only she saw. Most other people thought it was some kind of enjoyment, that he was sadistic and cruel, but Y/N knew what that look upon his face meant. He was hurting inside too.

Unfortunately for the pair of them, Umbridge was making her rounds of the castle and heard the commotion from the potions classroom as she strolled the dungeon corridors. She burst her way into the room, directly looking at Y/N and Draco.

‘Y/L/N. Malfoy. My office. Now.’ she said, turning swiftly around and out of the doorway where she just entered. Snape sent an unamused look towards the bewildered pair, and sighed, waving his hand to let them go.

Nerves racked through both of them as they walked towards Umbridge’s office. They had heard, and seen, what kind of torture went on in there. They paced the halls as they hiked to what felt like the gallows, neither of them wanting to speak about what just happened. Draco sent Y/N a look of apology, hoping she knew that he didn’t mean what he said. Y/N understood, she responded by nodding and then taking his hand in hers as they climbed the staircase to the office together.

Moments later, they sat opposite Umbridge, hands now parted as to not raise suspicion. She lectured the two about what had happened, and let Draco go without punishment. He was part of her inquisitorial squad, of course. He hesitated, not wanting to leave Y/N alone, but he had no choice. Staying would have only caused more complications.

After Draco’s departure, Umbridge brought out the parchment and quill Y/N had heard so much about. She had seen the scars on the hands of other students, and tears started to accumulate in the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Umbridge brought the parchment to the desk, and Y/N looked up at her, doing her best to be unafraid of what is going to happen.

‘Now, you must write ‘I must not keep secrets’ until you understand ok? How about 50 times?’ She says, sitting back down at her desk. The room was garish, pink and covered in decorative items with cats on them. The room was torture for the eyes, let alone the physical pain Y/N was about to endure.

‘Excuse me, why must I write that? I’m not keeping any secrets’ Y/N asked, curiosity in her voice.

‘I see how you and Mr Malfoy look at each other, and I reckon you two are sneaking out to see each other, are you not?’

Y/N was dumbfounded. How did she know? Y/N couldn’t answer, she just hung her head lowly and that confirmed everything for Umbridge.

‘Well, get on with it then’ She said, her tone a mix of excitement and disgust. And Y/N started writing.

~~~~~~

Leaving Umbridge’s office, Y/N examined the back of her hand, noticing the words etched into her skin already beginning to scar. The tears that threatened to spill earlier came pouring out, a tsunami of tears flooding her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. She ran to the common room, hoping that it would be empty, however to her irritation it was packed full of people.

She tried pushing past the bodies in the room, wanting to just go to her bed and cry, but to no avail, she was spotted by Hermione.

‘Y/N! Where have you been, it’s been hours since anyone last saw you!’ She stated, panic apparent with every word that she spoke. She grabbed Y/N by the wrist, noticing the marks on her hand. She was outraged, she pulled Y/N towards Harry and Ron, who were residing on the couch by the fireplace.

‘Look what Umbridge did to Y/N!’ She exclaimed, revealing Y/N’s hand to the boys. They both read the words, confusion visible upon both of their expressions.

‘But, you haven’t got anything to hide, have you?’ Ron asks, looking at Y/N, giving her reassurance that if there is anything she could tell them.

‘Well, actually…’ she starts, not knowing if she should tell them. ‘They have a right to know, they’re your best friends.’ She tells herself, so she continues, not wanting to leave them waiting.

‘Actually, I have got a secret. I may be in a relationship’ Her intonation higher on the last words, demonstrating her nervousness.

‘With who?’ They all yell, gaining the attention of everyone in the room in their desperation to know.

Silence fills the common room, and what can only be described a a squeak comes out of Y/N’s mouth.

‘Draco’

Mouths drop to the floor, did she really just say his name? Everyone was astounded by this, Draco Malfoy, the infamous hater of muggle borns, Gryffindors and essentially anyone who existed.

The silence was deafening. Y/N didn’t know what to do. She acted upon her first instinct and raced towards the common room entrance, leaving as swiftly as she could. She went to the only place she could think of, the spot where the Draco and her met in the forbidden forest.

~~~~~

When she arrived, Draco was already there. He was mumbling to himself, something about being a terrible person and how cowardly he was for not staying to prevent whatever happened to Y/N. Oh his innocent Y/N.

Y/N approached quietly, trying to make out what he was saying. She could only catch words isolated from the rest of the sentence. The snapping of a twig underneath Y/N’s foot caused Draco to turn around dramatically,his wand drawn ready to hex whoever interrupted him in his solitude. Noticing that it was Y/N, he quickly put his wand away, rushing towards her. He clasped her hand tightly in his, and brought it up to his lips, kissing the scarred flesh.

‘There you are, I was starting to think she still had you in her office, I was debating whether I came back to rescue you from your captor’ He said, a smirk rising.

‘Draco, this isn’t the time for flirting, they know’

Seriousness washed over his face. ‘They definitely know?’ He asked, a lump forming in his throat.

‘Yes. I had to tell them. They wondered about what I was hiding and I’m so tired of keeping this secret. I know I should have asked you first but I just had to do it’ She responded, expecting him to be angry and wanting to leave her.

‘Ok’

‘Ok? That’s how you respond?’ She questions.

‘Well, they know now. And that’s ok. We can deal with that’

Y/N was astonished. Draco was ok with them knowing? He had wanted to hide things for so long, but now it’s suddenly ok?

She didn’t get an opportunity to speak when the sound of three pairs of feet, crunching the leaves below them, approached the couple.

Expecting something bad to happen, Draco instinctively pulls Y/N behind him, wanting to keep her safe from anything that could do them any harm. He only wishes he could have done the same back when they were in Umbridge’s office.

The faces of the trio peering back at them, Y/N steps out from behind Draco.

‘Hello’ Harry starts. ‘I know we reacted badly back there, but we came to apologise. It isn’t our place to judge who you date or choose to spend your time with and after consideration we would like to apologise for our actions’

Y/N smiled at them, her heart filling with warmth.

‘Now, this isn’t to say that we like you, Malfoy, however, we will tolerate you, for Y/N’s sake. But if you do anything to ever hurt her, you’ll have us to answer to. Ok?’ Harry finished his lecture, staring at Draco, making sure he understood what was being said.

Draco laughed at the thought of them confronting him, but he reassured them, ‘don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of hurting Y/N’ Finishing his sentence by taking her hand in his.

‘Now, let's get back to the castle, dinner is about to start and if we’re missing without reason we’ll be in big trouble, let alone if they find us in the forbidden forest’ Hermione reminded them, as they began their walk back to Hogwarts. A place where they could be whoever they wanted to be, regardless of their family, their background, their actions. A place they truly called home.

#draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagines #hp imagines #harry potter imagine

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 19

First time reader click here

Summary+TWs: We're talking serious feelings here, okay? Reader, you're literally emotionally illiterate. You also have PTSD, which is finally addressed - kinda. Bruce does his best. And he also knows how to kiss... But y'all know that if you read my ramblings about lucid dreaming/shifting/whatever... Chile-, anyways...

My phone kept buzzing and I ignored it until Bruce declared it was time to take a break and review the results. Whilst the man was typing up the data on a nearby StarkPad, I fought the sudden influx of messages that I received from haters and supporters alike after Tony decided on tweeting a reply that could be interpreted in an alarming variety of ways. It was a smart move, I'll admit, but a fucking bother for me nonetheless.

Disabling my DMs and dealing with a follower increase in the thousands wasn't hard; I didn't consider myself a problematic asshole and didn't need to be afraid of "exposure". The parties I went to - I doubted there was any blackmail material in there and the few nudes I'd sent over the years were always face-less. As a gen Z, I knew my internet safety.

The trolls didn't bother me either. It was more sad than annoying, people shitting on others for clout. Iron Man stans were witty, at least, if jealous. I must admit I've never considered the influx of popularity I would experience should I publicly out myself as a friend of Tony's. Girlfriend? Intern? Science child? Whatever cover story he was going to feed the press worked for me, as long as I still got the hugs, the kisses, the dick and the attention.

"Tony..." Bruce groaned, evidently done with the data processing, had to have opened his social media to see his own skyrocketing popularity.

"Yeah, our Tony is being a Tony again," I chuckled, having reset my social media settings so my phone wouldn't constantly beep, vibrate and bother me. School was going to be fun.

Bruce shook his head, fond, coming over to my side of the lab after removing his own hazmat suit. His eyes shiny with newfound knowledge and hair turned adorably fluffy in the confines of the head covering. He was smiling softly. "Food?"

"Sure."

We chewed our sandwiches in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"I still can't believe Tony told everyone on Twitter you're his girlfriend, usually he keeps this stuff private or schedules a fancy press conference," Bruce's tone was thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what it was? Seemed ambiguous to me..." I trailed off, confused.

"He worded it like that on purpose, I mean, you're still in high school," The scientist was confident in his words. "But I know Tony. I'm a hundred percent sure that he meant exactly that. Aren't you?"

Shock flooded me. Suddenly, I understood I completely misread the situation. "Um, no? I thought we were, y'know, just fucking. We never defined our relationship and we're definitely not exclusive." I said, chewing on my lip. "You make a valid argument, I'm a high school student and he's a grown ass man that does grown man stuff. Putting aside the fact that he could have anybody in the world so why would he choose me?" I was rambling, thinking out loud. Discussing my feelings has never my strong forte. "It would be stupid to impose monogamy on such a complex man like Tony. Downright idiotic to expect a genius to confine to social norms just because it suits others." I finished with a wave of my hand. Another bubble of thought that had festered within me for the longest time. I felt relieved, finally voicing it out loud. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I wasn't previously consciously aware of.

Bruce was watching me intently, with an unreadable expression that held the tiniest bit of awe, admiration perhaps. The silence that followed was unnerving. I fidgeted with my hands, not really knowing where to put them or where to look.

"You know," He took off his glasses, fiddling them in his hands. "I'm not going to sugar coat it. For the longest time, I thought you were going to inadvertently hurt him when you get bored with whatever you've got going on. I respect you, don't misunderstand me, but you are young. Now, I've changed my mind. You've changed my mind," He punctuated his statement with his hand on mine, grasping it. "I think you managed to understand him in a way most people can't. Or don't want to. Understand and accept him in a way that some of us can't even after years of working and living side by side with him." Bruce's gentle fingers skimmed along the top of my palm.

"I don't always understand Tony but I do accept him," I agreed. "Because Tony is a great man."

"I think you're in love with him," Bruce said, absolutely having ignored my previous statement. Just like that, point blank, he pushed to the surface the very feelings I got so good at ignoring. There was no rest for me in this place.

My heart fluttered, picking up the pace. I kept my mouth shut, not trusting it whatsoever. My thoughts became akin to panicked hares, jumping and zigzagging aimlessly in my skull. I didn't see the point in defending myself because the scientist had pointed out the obvious.

Bruce looked at me, softly, warmly. "And don't think we haven't noticed the rise in team morale. The improvement not only in communication, but on the battlefield, too. It's easier to entrust your back to someone with whom you've shared a laugh and a drink the previous night. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Something warm and wet was on my cheeks. I stared at our clasped hands, his words echoing in my head over and over and over. The moment I realized I was crying, I willed myself to stop and failed spectacularly - only more salty fluid streamed down, some of it getting in my nose, on my lips. The sleepless nights were making me unstable.

It took a single sniffle for Bruce to pick me up and wrap up in his kind embrace. I didn't resist, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto the back of his lab coat, inhaling the smell of his skin and chemicals. It was familiar, calming. Minutes ticked by with me slowly leaking the tension out of my body.

"He loves you, too, maybe he just doesn't realize it yet." Bruce whispered into my hair. "I've never seen Tony so happy, even with Pepper. You are special and you are loved."

There was something unsaid, I felt it. It hung in the ear, it burned the tips of my ears, stood sharp on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Bwucie-bear," I whispered into the space between his ear and his jaw. His arms tightened around me.

The man placed several chaste kisses in my hair, running a palm over my back. In moments like these, the crush for him, the very crush that got out of control, blossomed fully into a deep sense of respect and admiration. He made me feel safe. He said all the right words at the right time.

Drowsiness overtook me. As usual, any worries and anxieties I had evaporated, once Banner had his arms around me, shielding me from the world. I didn't forbid myself this time: delicately, my hand slipped through the man's soft messy curls, eliciting a contented sigh.

"You haven't been sleeping well," He more stated than asked.

I had no choice but to nod. "Clint keeps dying in my dreams. Or even worse, he doesn't, he just suffers, endlessly, painfully." I admitted.

Bruce flinched under me, tensing. My face was in between his hands in a second, the scientist sternly looking into my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything? All of us assumed you were okay after what happened." He looked - angry. Not Hulk-out pissed but Bruce-pissed, which equalled a kicked-puppy look seasoned with a great pinch of disappointment.

"I am okay." I lied, shamelessly. "It's getting better. That's why I want to have a party - relax a little, dance, socialize. I don't think Tony would let me go on my own so I figured I can convince him to throw one here." I looked away. It was better for everyone if I dealt with my own problems - they were superheroes, not babysitters.

Bruce frowned. "Why wouldn't Tony let you go?"

"Because of that one time I snorted coke," I rolled my eyes at Bruce's naiveté, leaving the less obvious parts unsaid. Tony knew exactly what I was going to do once I got free reign, he considered it destructive and told me so himself. Admittedly, he had a point but still... I wished I'd been given a choice.

"I'll talk to him," Bruce nodded firmly. "That's not acceptable. He can't forbid you from making mistakes and learning from them."

He was met with my shrug. No excitement came from me regarding this particular turn of conversation. I was drained, limbs like jello, thoughts sluggish. My face was drooping.

"Let's get you to bed," Banner stood up with me wrapped around him. "You need a nap."

"No," I protested. If I went to sleep now, only Satan knew at what ungodly hour I would wake up.

"Yes, Princess," Bruce smirked. I wiggled uncomfortably - when he went all caretaker like, my ovaries wreaked havoc on my body and brain. My thoughts weren't appropriate if Bruce wanted me to see him as a father figure. The signals he was sending were mixed. People around me did that a lot and I wasn't sure how to act so I usually just went with the flow. I decided to do the very same thing in that particular moment.

Curiosity sparked within me, tightly interwoven with the deep longing that settled below my collarbones whenever Tony or one of the others wasn't sitting next to me or talking my ear off. I've almost forgotten how it was to be alone with my thoughts. The maze of my very own self was becoming unfamiliar territory. Alarming.

I allowed Bruce to help me shed my shoes and outer layer of clothing, shivering in the coolness of my room. Despite being a frequent visitor, I still had a 'guest' room in the tower - I mostly stayed at Tony's or Wanda's anyways. During our sleepovers neither me nor the witch minded sharing her enormous bed, to be fair, we could have fit at least two more people in it besides us. Tony took care of his own - all the tower's residents had their apartments furnished with the best stuff.

"Sleep now, Princess," Bruce chastised, tucking a blanket around me, having noticed an earbud in my ear and my smartphone in my hand. I had hoped to kill some time online, damn well knowing sleep wouldn't come easy.

"I don't think I can fall asleep, Bruce," I admitted, looking away. There was just so much going on. My brain wouldn't shut up and if I couldn't drown out the cacophony by being productive, I'd troll the internet, as usual.

Banner sighed, coming to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. Gently running his fingers through my hair, brushing the outside of his palm against my cheek. "How do you usually deal with this?"

Involuntarily, my eyelashes fluttered. "Tony does most of the work," I admitted coyly. The engineer had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve - sexy and exhausting tricks.

"I see," Bruce muttered, thoughtfully.

I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a look I haven't seen before. The usual mildly absent, slightly anxious face he wore was replaced by something I could only describe as hurt envy, like a kid looking at their schoolmate who had all the newest, coolest toys. I used to be on the receiving end of that look far too often and I hated it.

I hid my face against his leg, rubbing my cheek on the raspy corduroy fabric of his pants. "Got any good ideas of your own?" I wondered lowly, thinking about what in the world possessed Bruce to wear corduroy trousers on a semi-casual day, in the twenty-first century.

"Only bad ideas," He replied in a matching low tone. His soft fingertips relocated to my nape, goosebumps rising down my back.

"Humour me," I grinned against his leg.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, the sound of his thinking screaming louder than any words could have done. Knowing the scientist so closely, I found out he was full of surprises - bolder than he appeared outwardly and competitive to a boot. He thought he had a lot to prove to himself and by extension, to others. The unknown, the mystery dangling in front of my nose was exhilarating, trepidation addictive. It took me away from the chaos in my mind.

A gentle grasp on my chin had me turning to look upwards, Bruce's face flushed and focused on my own, open and trusting. He needed to see the obvious, that I trusted him to take care of me. He pulled and I followed, sitting up on my elbows, coming up to his shoulder level, our faces inches apart, enveloped in the unique, intense scent of his herbal tea. It was a tart, strong smell and it suited his quiet but passionate character.

Once, twice, I caught my eyes sliding to his plump lips. They looked far too appealing in this position. I usually strategically stayed away from positions so compromising, fearing the very thing that I'd already let happen, however this time the atmosphere was different. We stood on ambiguous grounds, waiting for Bruce to make a decision.

The man wasn't stupid, he saw the way I looked at him. The nightmares and inability to take a break from life put a significant dent in my resolve to keep a distance between us, romantically - I could have settled even for a pity kiss, a pity fuck. Anything to put my brain on pause.

His lips were softer than I had imagined. Skilled, too, he easily steered the kiss into the shallow waters of our combined longing.

With Tony, it was like an avalanche. Tony ran hot like Peterbilt engines, hard and fast, almost angry in his race for satisfaction. Tony was a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted and it became plainly obvious when we fucked.

Bruce was the opposite. He savoured the kiss, losing himself in a way that could almost be described as delicate. Bruce was humming, softly, as we tasted each other, holding the left side of my face with careful fingertips. Almost as if he was afraid to break me. The feel of his skin on mine was soothing in a way that made me sigh and relax even further.

"Wanna make you feel good." His voice had dropped, gone husky, but his breathing held even. He must know all about self-control.

"Yeah," I was ready to agree with whatever the fuck he was offering. My eyelids remained shut.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

PS. Letsby, please don't combust. The underwear is coming off in the next chapter. 😶

#bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner fluff #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #party favours #bun writes

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obeymebabes · 4 years

Text

A Very Special Night (Lucifer x MC)

Warnings: None really, just beware of fluff.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUCIFER! You might be all hardcore on the outside but we all know you're a big softie on the inside. I hope you have the best birthday! We love you!!!

Summary: After Lucifer's big surprise party, a very drunk Lucifer confesses his feelings.

The extravagant birthday party in honor of the prideful first born was almost over. Lucifer looked happier than I'd ever seen him. His smile radiated throughout the crowd of people who had came to celebrate the creation of Diavolo's right-hand man. The gracious Morning-Star.

The Prince of Devildom insisted the party be held at the House of Lamentation, inviting all of the exchange students as a nice get together with the brothers. Colorful decorations littered the walls and balloons were scattered throughout the halls and rooms. With the help of Diavolo, Asmo, and Beel, they made sure everything was perfect.

The cake that was made by Barbatos was truly a sight to see. The dark black triple layered cake was perfectly decorated to look like the texture of Lucifer's large fallen angel wings. The top of the cake had twisted onyx black horns, matching the ones that rested atop Lucifer's head. Inside the cake was layered red with black frosting in between. The cake was perfectly Lucifer.

Despite the sophisticated demon not allowing me to spend any Grimm on him earlier that night, Diavolo had told me and the brothers to not worry about any costs of anything days prior to the special event. He wanted nothing more than to make sure Lucifer got the best of the best. Every brother had pitched in to get something for the eldest. This shockingly even included Satan, who managed to get him a painting, cursed or not it was still a surprisingly nice gesture from Lucifer's number one hater.

With the fun night over, the extra guests who didn't stay at the House of Lamentation were making their way out the door. I smiled and thanked them all for coming and making the party happen, even if it was almost spoiled by the angels earlier that night. Diavolo thanked me for coming up with the idea, and with that, I closed the door.

I sat facing the door and held the charmed necklace that matched the one around Lucifer's neck that had been purchased on our outing. I smiled to myself before jumping at the sudden tight grip that wrapped around my stomach. I quickly turned my head back to find a very happy, and very drunk Lucifer with his arms tightly squeezing me. I giggled and blushed at the sight of him.

"Thank you for all of this, MC." He beamed with joy, releasing me a bit to allow me to turn to him.

"I really hope it was memorable, I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you on your special day. Including the date..." I trailed off and my eyes drifted to the floor, embarrassed at how close he was.

"Shouldn't you be heading off to bed now?" I asked, changing the subject to avoid further embarrassment. It was pretty late and I knew he was going to be super hungover the next morning.

I could hear subtle chatter in the background, assumably Mammon talking about how close we were. That boy doesn't ever shut up. He is more jealous than Levi, the actual avatar of Envy.

Lucifer just smirked and stepped back but stumbled a little. In quick reaction I grabbed his hand to help steady him.

"I take that as a yes. I'll help you to your room. You seem to need the company anyway. You definitely drank too much. I would've never pinned you as the type to go over the top." His face looked shocked, appauled that I'd even say that.

"I will have you know I did not drink too much, I'm fiiiinnneeee." The mighty first-born wasn't so mighty when it came to handling alcohol it seems.

I waved to Asmo and Satan, motioning that I'd take care of the tipsy Lucifer and Asmo winked. Satan slapped him in the arm and laughed. I gripped Lucifer's arm and we started making our way to his room.

He kept looking down at me, probably assuming I wasn't paying attention but I definitely was.

"You know, MC, I'm really glad we met. Thank you for everything you've done for me." His breath wreaked of alcohol. If I didn't know better, I'd probably be drunk from the smell of it.

"Luci, you don't need to thank me for anything." I laughed as he looked at me confused.

"Luci?" He questioned, letting the nickname roll off his tongue as I opened his bedroom door.

"We are at your bedroom now, I believe you should get some rest, you had quite the eventful day today." I slowly let go of his arm but he wrapped his arms around me and coaxed me inside.

"I'm not done with you yet," he paused, looking away for a moment, "I want to tell you something."

I nodded and let him continue, my face heating up as I noticed how close his face was with mine. I was looking into his deep crimson eyes, soaking in his flawless facial features. I could hear his heart beating a bit more rapidly than usual. He took a breath.

"MC, you are very special to me. You've changed the way I go about things, you make me feel things I haven't felt in a very long while and I'm grateful for that. Today, on our date, I enjoyed spending the time with you. Every minute of it actually. Despite it being just a simple distraction to get the party set up and me out of the way, I felt something real. I would like to ask you if you would like to maybe try again? A real date this time. No worrying about the time, and no noisy brothers following us around." His eyes searched mine. There was a hint of pink flushing his cheeks.

"Lucifer I-"

I was cut off by his lips pressing to mine. His lips tasted of alcohol but despite the fluid in his system, he was passionate. He was gentle. I melted into his arms and kissed him back with the same amount of passion and desire.

As he pulled his lips away from mine I saw a smirk plaster across his face.

"It appears that I wasn't the only one who had been waiting for that all night." He chuckled.

"Did you see that guys?! They just kissed after he confessed his love! A true love story right before our eyes!" A voice called from outside the bedroom.

Lucifer and I both jerked our heads to find out where the voice had come from only to see Levi holding his D.D.D. up in the doorway and the rest of the brothers crowded around him, faces shocked, well, other than Asmo who was also recording the moment. He simply winked at me and giggled.

"If all of you don't get out of here right now I will lock you all in the basement with Cerberus for 100 years." Lucifer stated.

With that, they all scattered like ants. I felt Lucifer's hand gently turn my head back to him.

"Stay with me tonight? As my birthday present. I promise I'll behave myself." He grinned cheekily and stumbled a bit to close the door, locking it to ensure none of his brothers would interrupt the next special moment we would share together. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight.

"Happy birthday Luci, I can't wait to spend many more with you."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me babes #obey me!#obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me! lucifer #happy birthday lucifer #lucifer x mc #lucifer fanfiction #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #lucifer avatar of pride

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harrisonstories · 5 years

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NOTE: This a beautiful article by Paul Theroux which I thought was apt for today. There aren’t many writers who I feel “get” George, but Theroux is an exception.

George Harrison - Something in the way he moved us

As Martin Scorsese's portrait of George Harrison is released, celebrated novelist Paul Theroux looks at the man who went from mop-top to mystic

It is a happy thought that the sweetest music arises from an untroubled heart. As though from the sky, here is this strong and contented virtuoso – George Harrison, say – whom we envy for being strong, someone supremely contented. What a lucky man to be able to create such harmony and to penetrate our soul; to make us feel better, to help heal us and ease our minds. Isn't it pretty to think so?

The truth is usually the opposite of this. The art that is indestructible and always fresh never comes easy. Its source is typically uncertain or bleak, sometimes harrowing, the pure notes quavering over an abyss of shadows between life and death, that mournful place from which the most passionate yearnings take shape in the form of a song, a poem, a story, a harmonious vision. But even as I write this, speaking of the complex process of creation, words and music made of doubt and the divided self, the conflicts that help us to be sane, and the paradox of opposites, I seem to hear someone mutter over my shoulder, "Rock music is about as metaphysical as my Aunt Fanny..."

And yet it seems to me impossible to overestimate the resonant clarity of George Harrison's music – his songs of innocence and experience; or the subtle wisdom of his lyrics. Even as a relative youngster, more than 30 years before his untimely death, in his All Things Must Pass album, he was singing powerfully of transformation, in the title track, and "Art of Dying," and "Beware of Darkness," and "What is Life." He could be as jolly as his ukulele-strumming hero and namesake, George Formby, but as soon as he seizes our attention with his humour and his teasing, he is reminding us – and himself – that we are mortal and all things end.

George at his best was a man dedicated to whittling down his ego; he was not one being but many and he remains an enduring figure of fascination to those of us for whom his music runs through our head, reminding us of better times. It is no wonder he was so passionate: he was himself his own wicked twin. He made no bones about this and, a hater of pomposity in all forms, he expressed it with characteristic downright-ness:

"I have this kind of strange thing," he said, "and I put it down to being a Pisces. Pisces is the sign of two fish. The way I see it is that one half is going where the other half has just been. I was in the West and I was into rock'n'roll, getting crazy, staying up all night and doing whatever was supposed to be the wrong things. That's in conflict with all the right things, which is what I learned through India – like getting up early, going to bed early, taking care of yourself and having some sort of spiritual quality to your life. I've always had this conflict."

He was at odds with himself, but who isn't? In that respect "living proof of all life's contradictions," as he put it, he resembles most of us. We recognise him as a kindred soul in his contradictions – and though his life was lived on a vast scale, he was unusually truthful, and in his songs much more explicit than we dare to be. He made it his mission to explore his contradictions in his own way, through his music. So, to say that he was one of the great musicians of his time – one of the most innovative guitarists ever, most imaginative songwriters – is to give only part of the story. "The quiet one," is the stereotypical description of the man – but he was on fire within. To make music that mattered over the years, to bring renewal with each work, he seemed determined to burn out one self after another.

"He had karma to work out," his widow, Olivia, is on the record as saying. "He wasn't going come back and be bad. He was going to be good and bad and loving and angry and everything all at once. You know, if someone said to you, 'okay, you can go through your life and you can have everything in five lifetimes, or you can have a really intense one and have it in one, and then you can go and be liberated,' he would have said, 'give me the one, I'm not coming back here.'"

I also think there's a stark difference between "contradiction" and "confusion". He wasn't confused; had he been he would have found it impossible to search and learn with such clear-sightedness. His friend and mentor Ravi Shankar said that George exhibited tyagi, a Sanskrit term for a feeling of non-attachment or renunciation. Shankar wondered how this aspect of enlightenment could have come so clearly to a worldly lad from Liverpool. It doesn't seem odd to me that this thoughtful man came to feel the sense of freedom bordering on exaltation that mendicants experience in non-attachment. But it is a notable, and noble, quality in a rock star to practice it, as George did.

We all feel that we could do a bit better in our lives; in the secret history of this imaginative soul, George was active in pursuing this path. Surely it arose in large part from his having had everything while still young. At 19 or 20 he was on top of the world – inspiring the world to sing and dance. Performing with The Beatles gave him joy – gave us all joy. But he did not see this exuberance as a final fulfilment; the very fact of The Beatles as a musical and financial phenomenon made him doubtful enough to begin to look for a higher meaning, and – after The Beatles – to go on looking. He knew he was living in the material world, but had he been so attached to it he would not have been able to look deeper into it.

Early in his life as a musician, towards the end of the explosive new sound of The Beatles (and much more than music, it was a seismic shift in popular culture), George found his way to India. Through music and meditation, and the mantras that he chanted until the very end of his life, he was drawn to an unselfish, and ultimately a more mystical view of the world. The man who could make a whole stadium rock began to see silence as another ideal. He has described himself as an idle, smirking, doodling student at school, and yet in India he became devout and studious, a reader of the swamis – and notably, of Swami Vivekananda.

What has become apparent in the decade since his death is the uncanny symmetry of George's life – a life lived to the fullest. What might have seemed random or impulsive in him while he lived, is, in retrospect, a pattern, part performance, part pilgrimage.

His saturation in the material world drove him to seek the spirit in things – and so his life seems a series of vanishings and reappearances, journeys there and back, and even the portraits of him that seem iconic are various, a progression of so many faces, his features, his hair, his posture – different in each one. Yet his gaze is unchanged, his eyes telling us that the same soul is inhabiting this body.

All this sounds solemn, but he was a man of subtle and often self-mocking humour. George was interested in many things beside music, and although music was his first love, he was vitalised by travel, movie-making, and car racing. Look at his friends – the Pythons Gilliam and Idle, Jackie Stewart, Billy Preston, Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Ravi Shankar: the funniest men on Earth, the fastest, his most brilliant contemporaries in music.

But equal to his passion for music, and his diverse and close friendships, was an overwhelming desire to get back to earth – literally so, to dig, to plant trees, to surround himself with flowers that he himself had grown. The most obvious characteristic of the houses that he built, or bought and fixed up in the course of his life, are the gardens he planned and planted. No matter how extraordinary the houses, the gardens he created around them surpassed the bricks and mortar. In George's case the gardens he made gave him the sense that he was living in isolation, on an island of his own making. "...it's great when I'm in my garden, but the minute I go out the gate I think: 'What the hell am I doing here?'"

"From the day I met him he was defiant," Olivia said, "and so determined that nothing was going to stop him from leaping as far as he could."

She was thinking of his words in the song "Run of the Mill": "How high will you leap?/ Will you make enough for you to reap it?/ Only you'll arrive – at your own made end/ With no one but yourself to be offended/ It's you that decides."

- “Something in the way he moved us”, Independent (Sep. 2011)

#george harrison #olivia harrison #paul theroux #the beatles #ravi shankar #living in the material world #all things must pass #independent #2011

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colorfulplumbobs · 4 years

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TBeautiful, bold and cheerful: Isabel Montez (aka @itsisafit), the fitness influencer who’s winning the internet over

If you ever searched for workouts around the social networks, you probably already know her. Isabela Montez (also known as @itsisafit on Simstagram) is one of the best-known influencers in terms of sports and fitness. But who’s this beautiful woman? We met her to chat and discover more about her and her success.

Isabela originates from Selvadorada, but she lives in San Myshuno. We meet her in her apartment and she greets us with a big smile. Her fresh and cheerful personality immediately strikes us.

First of all, congratulations for your success! You recently reached 2 million followers on Simstagram! “Yeah, thank you! And thanks to all my supporters, obviously! When I started my social accounts, I would never expect to get so far. I was just a Biology student at Foxbury who wanted to share her workouts, achievements and sports experiences. At the beginning, I didn’t take it too seriously, but as my account grew bigger, I realised it could have been my path. Many people were inspired by my workouts: they joined my challenges, shared their progress, asked me for advices… Before I was graduated, I already had some collaborations.

Which kind of collaborations? I started out as a model and testimonial for fitness-related products, which I actually still do. As my audience grew, I started receiving offers of partnerships with big brands not only in the fitness field, but also for products that relate to my lifestyle in general. For example, until a few years ago I never imagined that I would end up sponsoring a pet food brand as well.

And there’s where comes to play Zed, your dog. Exactly! I can definitely say that many of my followers are actually more interested in him than in me! And I can’t blame them, he’s adorable. He comes with me on all my adventures and is my greatest friend.

Is he your only companion? So we’re getting to the hot topic, huh? Yes, there’s space only for Zed in my heart. I’m always travelling around the world, which doesn’t give me much time and stability for a romantic relationship. I prefer to focus on myself and my work, for now.

You seem very happy with your work with social networks, but have you ever had any negative experiences? Unfortunately yes. I think anyone who gets exposed on the internet will have to deal with haters sooner or later. Internet is such a wonderful opportunity to connect with people, discover the world and learn something new, but it is full of toxic people ready to take their frustration on other people, too. It seems like they don't reflect on the fact that other people are on the other side of the screen.

Could you give us some examples? Some haters attacked me telling that I’m “just another of those fitness maniacs obsessed with their body”. I know that some people are really obsessed with their appearance, but to me fitness is just one of the ways to take care of ourselves. Sports are my passion just like someone else likes to paint or to sing to relieve stress. On my social I often speak about feeling good about ourselves, which doesn’t’ mean that we all have to be super skinny or super fit: it just means to have a healthy lifestyle and do whatever makes us feel good. In my case, fitness is just one of those things.

What amazing projects are you working on? Well, the Mount Komorebi Tourist Board asked me to join a wonderful collaboration. I will move there for a month to discover and tell its beauty. I’ll mainly deal with excursions, winter sports and mountain climbing, but as I’ll be hosted by a local family I’ll also talk about the local traditions and culture. I'm leaving next week - I'm so excited!

Then, good luck on your new adventure! We’ll surely follow you. Thank you! Stay tuned, because I have the feeling that this experience will hold us many surprises!

--------------------------------------------------

Hey!!! I’m back! I was thinking about making a new gameplay since months and Snowy Escape gave me the opportunity to start posting again. I know this post is a bit long, but I wated to star in a different way: you know that I like my gameplays to have a base story instead of being, you know...just gameplays. That’s why I thought it would be fun to present my new character with an interview. She’s quite famous, after all.

Hope you’re gonna like it!

#snowy plumbobs #snowy escape #ts4 snowy escape #ts4 gameplay #gameplay #ts4 mm gameplay #Isabela Montez #Zed Montez #ts4 magazine

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fandom-smut-shots · 5 years

Text

Harry Hook - Book Shop

Words: 1,994

Anyone who knew Harry Hook on even an acquaintance level would claim that he was nothing but bad news, and he would readily agree. He wasn’t overly affectionate. He wasn’t particularly sensitive. He didn’t plan dates or regularly use his phone. He didn’t care hardly at all for good grades or making friends or being socially appropriate.

Yet, for some reason, you were undeniably attracted to him.

When he came to Auradon with his crew, he took an obvious liking to you. You brushed him off at first, learning from Mal and her friends that Harry was a shameless flirt and generally not serious in his advances. Your resistance only encouraged him to try harder, sitting with you at lunch and passing you notes during the classes you shared. Uma and Gil were insistent that something about you was different, that Harry wasn’t just entertaining himself, but Mal didn’t agree. Still, the more the pirate flirted, the deeper into your attraction you fell.

When he finally asked you out on a date, few people were surprised when you said yes.

That was six months ago, and Harry wasn’t much better of a boyfriend than anyone expected. In his defense (because Uma would defend him against the preppy haters that roamed Auradon), you were his first official girlfriend. In addition to being inexperienced, you came from different worlds. Your parents were good – you weren’t a VK from the Isle. The silly pranks and lighthearted pickpocketing that Harry thought was hilarious only made you mad. He didn’t know how to impress you beyond flirting.

Your birthday was fast approaching, as everyone loved to remind you. You were seated at lunch with Jane, Carlos, Evie, and Doug when it was mentioned again.

“What are your plans?” Doug inquired innocently.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you shrugged. “Might take the day for myself. It’s been a while since I’ve had some alone time.”

“Harry isn’t planning something?” Jane, ever the optimist, questioned cheerfully. “Ever since Carlos and I got together, he’s planned the best birthday parties for me. He spends weeks working on them!”

You visibly winced, slumping in your chair and glaring down at your tray of food.

“Did I say something wrong?” Jane wondered, brows furrowed.

Evie sighed softly. “Harry isn’t exactly… the party type.”

Carlos gave his girlfriend a look, and the brunette made a quiet noise of realization.

“(y/n), I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you, I just assumed-“

“People assume a lot of things,” you cut her off bitterly. “It’s fine, guys. You all warned me. Maybe Uma was wrong. Maybe Harry…” You swallowed thickly. “Maybe he’s not really interested. Maybe he’s just passing time. It’s whatever, really.”

“I have an idea,” Evie offered sweetly. “If Harry doesn’t do anything, I’ll take you to that new book shop that just opened up. I heard Belle donated a ton of books from her and Beast’s collection.”

Your head slowly lifted at her words, and you offered her a weak smile. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Evie.”

“What are friends for?” the blue-haired girl beamed.

A few tables away, Harry sat with a dumbfounded expression. “She thinks… she thinks I don’t care about her?”

Uma’s brow was quirked as she looked between her first mate and your table. “Sounds like it. You haven’t really been acting like you do.”

The brunet’s brow furrowed. “What do yeh mean? I spend time with her, don’t I?”

Uma rolled her eyes. “How often, Harry? Outside of class? Do you hang out with her on weekends? Text her throughout the day? Have you taken her on a single date since you asked her out?”

Harry’s cheeks burned a deep scarlet and he ducked his head, avoiding his captain’s gaze. “I… I didn’t know girls really liked all that. I didn’t have to do any of that to her with her, yeh know?”

The sea queen exhaled a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Most girls like that crap, Harry. Especially Auradon girls. She isn’t some criminal from the Isle ready to raise Hell with you. Girls like (y/n) want to be wooed.”

Harry threw his head back with an uncharacteristic whine. “Alright, alright. I get it. What do I do, then?”

“Steal Evie’s idea,” Uma replied with a shrug.

“What idea?”

She leveled him with a glare. “Weren’t you listening? Evie said that if you didn’t take care of your girl on her birthday, she was gonna take (y/n) to the new book store.”

The brunet tilted his head. “Who actually enjoys going to the book store?”

“Your girlfriend does!”

Harry winced. “Alright, I’ll take her. Yeh don’t have to yell at me.”

“When classes are out, go find her, spend the afternoon with her, and tell her you have a surprise planned for her birthday,” Uma instructed.

“Aye,” the brunet agreed with a nod.

As you sat alone in your room, a knock sounded on your door. Intrigued, you rose from the bed to see who had come searching for you. You couldn’t deny the surprise in your chest when you saw your pirate boyfriend standing on the other side of the doorway.

“Harry?” you greeted slowly.

He offered you a toothy grin. “Hello, love.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Word floating around Auradon is that yer birthday is this Saturday,” the brunet stated nonchalantly.

“Yeah?” you nodded, uncertain as to why your birthday was suddenly an important subject. “What about it?”

Harry frowned at your tone. Guilt crept through his chest knowing that his actions, or lack thereof, had put you in such a bad mood.

“I’ve got a surprise for yeh,” he smirked. “Get dressed up if yeh like. We’re going out.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You- We- What?”

He chuckled softly, leaning forward so that his torso crossed the border into your room. He tilted his head, planting a tender kiss on your cheek. “Saturday, love. One o’ clock, alright?”

Your skin heated pleasantly where it had been kissed. “Yeah, sounds good.”

He offered you a wink before he spun on his heel and sauntered away, leaving you stunned and standing in your doorway.

Saturday arrived, and there was nothing you could do to calm your nerves. You dressed simply in a fitting t-shirt, denim shorts, plain leggings, and high-top sneakers. Unlike your friends, you didn’t dress similarly to your parents. You preferred to display your own style. A nagging voice in the back of your mind told you that it was too preppy, too good to impress Harry, that he’d take one look at you and swim back to the Isle. You firmly told said voice to back the hell out of your date. Harry had asked you out, after all, and he knew you were a good person.

At one o’ clock, knuckles rapped on the other side of your door. Glancing at the time on your phone, you were surprised to see that the pirate was perfectly on time. Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to find a rather well-groomed Harry Hook. His black jeans were still torn, but more stylishly and in fewer places. His shredded shirt and leather trench coat had been replaced by a grey button-up and a deep maroon leather blazer. His signature hook had been left in his room, his eyeshadow was thinner and less messy, his deep brown waves had actually been brushed (Uma must have helped, you were certain), and his lips quirked in a confident smirk. Though, as you gazed into his icy blue eyes, you found a hint of uncertainty.

“Wow,” you exhaled. “I had no idea you could clean up so nicely.”

He cleared his throat, heat rising to his tan cheeks. “Uh, yeah, well..” He stood up straighter from where he’d been leaning against the door frame. “A beautiful lass like you deserves a quality date with a gentleman, not minimal effort from a withered pirate.”

You frowned, stepping forward and resting your hands on his chest. “What are you talking about, Harry?”

He met your worried gaze and exhaled a sigh. There was no way he could pretend everything was fine now. “People have been telling me that I haven’t exactly been a proper boyfriend to yeh.”

Guilt pooled in your chest. “What people, Harry?”

He shrugged. “Uma, Evie, Mal… all of yer friends, really.”

“Harry…” Your hands dropped to take hold of his, and you gazed softly into his eyes. “You’re not a bad boyfriend. Okay, maybe you’re not really affectionate like Ben. You don’t plan a lot of dates like Carlos. But you’re a different person. I love that you’re a pirate. I love that you’re cocky and sneaky and dangerous. I don’t need a prince, Harry. I chose a pirate.”

Afyer a moment’s hesitation, Harry leaned forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips to yours. You gasped at the sudden gesture, snaking your arms around his neck. It wasn’t the first kiss you’d shared- kissing, for certain, Harry was comfortable with and talented at- but it was unexpected, and you could feel the emotions behind it.

“Come on, lass,” he murmured against your mouth. “We’ve got a date to get to.”

You beamed at him, closing and locking the door behind you. He took your hand in his, lacing your fingers as he led you down the hallway. Students passing by sneered at your choice in partners, but you simply flipped them off and snuggled close to Harry’s side. He laughed loudly at your response, pressing a kiss to your head every time.

“We’re here,” he announced, and you took in the sights. A gasp fled from your mouth as you realized that the building in front of you was the brand new book store.

“Harry, this is amazing! But how did you-“

He scratched at the back of his neck. “I may have overheard Evie talking to yeh about it. I remembered that yeh like to read and thought maybe yeh’d enjoy coming here with me.”

You threw your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. “I love it.”

He laughed as he returned the hug. “Let’s go in, then.”

You led him inside, soft noises of awe and wonder sounding in your throat at every turn. Harry couldn’t help but grin as he watched you file through every row, explaining the plot lines of the ones that you’d read, and holding a collection of books you yearned to experience. Harry insisted on taking the growing pile from you, carrying it around like a gentleman should.

Belle, who’d arrived to donate more of her own collection, found the two of you wandering around. She smiled fondly at the sight of a softer Harry Hook, and she stepped up beside him while you lost yourself in a new genre.

“I’ll give you a discount,” she informed him, chuckling softly when he jumped in surprise.

He turned to face her with a confused expression.

Belle simply nodded towards you. “She’s never been this excited about anything. This is the sweetest thing you could have done for her.”

She sauntered away, leaving Harry blushing and staring off into nothing.

“Hey,” came your voice in front of him. He turned his attention back to you, chuckling at the size of your stack.

“I’m not getting all of these,” you explained sheepishly. “I just need your help deciding.”

“Yer getting as many as yeh want,” he countered. He led you to a nearby table and sat down. “I’ll still help yeh, though.”

The light in your eyes was worth every cent that he possessed. You spent the afternoon reading summaries and reviews of every book, until your collection had been significantly reduced. When you were content with your selections, Harry paid for them, at a promised discount, and assisted you in carrying them back to your room.

Harry ended up falling asleep on your bed, in your arms, as you read books aloud to him.

Request a prompt here!

#Reader insert #Female reader #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #Descendants #Writers Block #Requests #Prompt list

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guilianafms · 5 years

Text

new york’s very own guiliana rasananda was spotted on broadway street in gucci marmont logo - embellished leather sandals . your resemblance to lalisa manoban is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty third birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being doctrinaire , but also pragmatic . i guess being an aquarius explains that . three things that would paint a better picture of you would be the lingering scent of her perfume after she’s long gone , a fenty beauty gloss bomb as her staple to any makeup look , and the glitter of diamond encrusted jewelry on tanned skin .

hello ladies , gents , and nonbinary pals ! my name’s jin and i’m super stoked to be here ! i’ve seen this group in the tags over the years , and i decided that it was high time for me to slide in ( and now that my school’s closed .... indefinitely .... i’ve got the time ) . giuliana is fairly new so i’m still working out some kinks that may arise , but i have a pretty good idea of the direction i want her to go in ! i can’t believe that this is my first time playing lalisa in a couple of years , but since the chance arose , i decided to take it . i won’t chat too much , and i need to make a new d.iscord since i forgot the password to my old one but if anyone wants to plot , feel free to slide into my dms ( or i’ll slide into yours ! )

basic information .

FULL NAME : guiliana kanya rasananda .

NICKNAME(S) : gigi , lia , liana , ana .

BIRTHDATE + AGE : february 12th + 23 .

ZODIAC : aquarius .

HOMETOWN : new york , ny .

GENDER : cis female .

NATIONALITY : thai - american .

ETHNICITY : thai .

HEIGHT : 5′6″ .

LABEL(S) : the amaranth , the vixen , the trust fund baby , and the princess .

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : biromantic .

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual .

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN : english , thai , japanese , and learning spanish .

OCCUPATION : socialite , ‘ model ’ , and youtuber / social media influencer .

POSITIVES : clear - headed , assiduous , self - reliant , pragmatic , and cosmopolitan .

NEGATIVES : disputatious , exigent , doctrinaire , selfish , and unscrupulous .

PLAYLIST : roxanne / arizona zervas , bad guy / billie eilish , body / loud luxury ft. brando , nasa / ariana grande , mother’s daughter / miley cyrus , sway with me / saweetie w. galxara , say so / doja cat , mad at me. / kiana ledé , apeshit / the carters , elastic / joey purp , watermelon sugar / harry styles , ain’t my fault / zara larsson , lemon / n.e.r.d. ft. rihanna / nice for what / drake , sugar / brockhampton , icon / jaden smith , zimzalabim / red velvet , come thru / joji , in my head / ariana grande , broke bitch / tiny meat gang , honey / lay , deserve / kris wu ft. travis scott .

biography .

let’s see if we can keep this short , am i right ladies ?

ratana saelim has humble beginnings in bangkok . her parents owned a small restaurant in their neighborhood , and they lived comfortably , but ratana still had to work hard to ensure that she got into college and could stay in college . she often did her homework behind the counter of the restaurant , and eventually went on to attend bangkok university .

she met her future husband at bangkok university , a fellow student named kamnan rasananda . he was studying business while she was studying law . in contrast to ratana , kamnan grew up in an extremely affluent home and was set to inherit his family’s company . he was a year older than ratana , and the two got married after her graduation with her master’s degree . they settled in bangkok following their wedding .

the years passed , and the couple established themselves in their respective fields . kamnan started his own business in real estate and construction , so they decided to expand out of asia and into the states . they made their home new york city , and settled easily into a multi - million dollar penthouse on the upper east side . since they were to focused on their careers , it wasn’t until they reached their mid - thirties when they had their first and only child , a daughter they named guiliana .

guiliana was a beautiful little baby who has an infectious personality while growing up . ratana and kamnan may have been busy people , but they never had an issue with putting work on pause to spend time with their daughter . the couple supported their daughter in everything that she did , and that even included when she turned fourteen and decided that she wanted to start doing youtube videos .

going through high school , guiliana had been a member of the photography and yearbook clubs , and this was at the same time that she started to truly focus on her channel . of course , her content at the time was quite cringy ( shoutout to that one song that everyone used in morning routines ) . as the years passed , she obtained the right equipment to make her content better .

by her senior year of high school , her channel grew to massive numbers . she dropped the makeup videos since she found that she was more interested in fashion than makeup , and was comfortable with sharing her personal style . she got a lot of backlash because she grew up rich and people often felt that she was ‘ flaunting ’ her lifestyle , but really , most of her clothes from the places that were often the rage at the time ( urban outfitters , brandy , etc ) with the occasional luxury piece like a purse or something .

now , she isn’t that active on youtube anymore since she’s grown into more of a socialite , but she’ll still do weekly vlogs , catching up videos , and her fashion videos . despite not being that active , her channel is still growing and has now amassed five million subscribers .

personality .

guiliana has been a part of youtube since she was a fourteen year old , so she’s been able to start ignoring the haters ! quite honestly has the most idgaf attitude towards people who have anything to say about her only showing luxury outfits and such on her channel . that’s all she knows since she grew up in that , but quite frankly she doesn’t care !

out of all of her labels , i’d say she mostly resonates with the trust fund baby . outside of her youtube channel , guiliana doesn’t do much other than spend money and sleep until eleven so don’t expect her to be out there making businesswoman moves .

don’t give her a compliment because what’s the saying ... give her an inch and she’ll take a mile ? that’s guiliana to a T ! she knows that she’s cute and her parents have only ever praised her , so she’s got something of an over inflated ego at times . she can go on and on , so please tell her ass to shut up if she starts taking it too far !

headcanons .

a born and bred new yorker , guiliana doesn’t possess a driver’s license . she gets driven around in a bentley bentayga and when her driver’s not available , she exclusively uses uber black to get around the�� city .

her style is pretty similar to lisa’s where one day she’s exclusively wearing streetwear , another day she’s a bit more feminine , and then sometimes she’s wearing pieces straight off the runway ! when it comes to her more feminine style i think of the youtuber kerina wang .

she’s most comfortable when she’s in her apartment . usually , she’s only wearing a lingerie set ( not the entire thing ) and lounging around . she’ll throw on a robe or something to answer the door , so just call her ahead of time .

i can’t make up my mind on how guiliana usually has her hair ( since lisa switches between long and short ) so we’ll just say that she gets extensions a lot ! currently , i love her long brown hair so click for reference here .

she has no real plans for the future ? she’s kinda of taking it day by day and enjoying her twenties while she has them . right now her main focus is her instagram and her youtube , and she has no real aspirations to do anything outside of that at the moment .

never leaves the house without wearing a pair of heels ? even when it’s cold outside , she’s wearing ankle boots with a heel or the ever elegant over - the - knee boots .

her go - to drink from starbucks is a cold brew with vanilla sweet cream . she doesn’t drink coffee with sugar .

wanted connections .

i’ll more than likely end up reblogging things into the tag i made for these , but since there’s nothing there right now , i’ll just list off some specifics that i’d love to have ! if none of these are to your taste , we could always brainstorm , work off chemistry , or let me know if there’s something that you think guiliana could fill !

i might end up sending this in to the main , but i’d love to have the fiancé that she left at the altar ! truth be told , i kind of feel as though she may have done it simply because she finally realized that things were moving too fast and she kinda of needed to pump the breaks ? she definitely didn’t do it in the best way , but it could be an interesting relationship / dynamic to explore .

she’s been in new york since forever so i just imagine there being a slew of connections stemming from that ? friendships , rivalries , and romantic connections ! idk why i love them so much , but i’d really love for her to have an ex best friend . we can determine why their friendship ended , but i really love exploring the demise of relationships .

my brain is blanking so 🤠 .

#wealthyhq:intro #shout out to the tnu / swt albums #really got me through this FNJSDBFHDS

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so-langdon · 5 years

Text

Inevitable - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Y/N is the only one who refuses to believe Michael’s changing for the better after accepting Cordelia’s offer to join her and the coven. Her being the only one who won’t give him attention then, sparks a desire in Michael for her.

Warnings: Dominant! Michael, sexual tension, swearing, rough play, rough smut (spanking, choking, hair-pulling), swearing, dirty talk

A/N: Thank you for reading this if you do! <33 I hope it’s not too cringe, still trying to master the writing of smut loll.

Tagged: @rocketgirl2410

Never before had Y/N felt such disapproval and repulsion from a choice of her Supreme Cordelia, until now. Cordelia was usually so wise, so insightful and so intelligent in her decisions and plans.

This seemed to go out the window as she clearly fell for Michael Langdon’s sad boy act. Actually offering to bring this epitome of evil into the very place where he could annihilate any and all of the witches in an instant if he wanted. Cordelia was a fool for inviting Michael to their home to find his so called “humanity,” as if the son of satan actually had an ounce of empathy or compassion in him.

Y/N had been at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies for a few years, coming further along the fastest than any of Cordelia’s students before. She was still in the process of learning and expanding her powers, but she definitely had a higher position at the school alongside with Zoe and Queenie, other members of Cordelia’s counsel.

Zoe and Queenie supported Cordelia in her proposal to have Michael join their coven. It completely threw Y/N off guard, as she couldn’t believe that some of the smartest women in her life were behaving so foolishly and dumb. The level of stupidity they seemed to be exhibiting needed to be studied.

“He’s the antichrist for goodness sake’s, and you’re practically giving him permission to kill us all in our sleep! He’s going to destroy all of us when we least expect it. We can not be this imprudent!” Y/N argued everyone as the discussion took place for Michael to come to the coven. “There’s humanity in him,” Cordelia defends. “If he joins us, maybe we can find it.” “Key word being, ‘maybe.’ Cordelia, you know I respect and support everything you do, but this is unbelievably reckless and idiotic. He’s the antichrist. Have you forgotten this?” Y/N threw her hands in the air, trying to make sense of the situation that was actually happening. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” Cordelia faintly smiles. “Cordelia’s right,” Zoe interjects. “Maybe we can stop Cordelia’s visions of the world’s end through this.” Y/N shook her head, finding everything they said absurd. Looking at Queenie for some backup hopefully, even Queenie agreed. “I trust Cordelia. We want the evil right under our nose so we can keep watch, right?”

Since being overruled, Y/N has remained respectful though quiet of Cordelia’s decision, but deep down remained on edge, cautious and completely disappointed in her Supreme. There was no way this Michael Langdon could change for the better due to some TLC.

The day Michael showed at the school, Cordelia introduced him to the witches in a house meeting, as if he were a new student, and explained to everyone the situation that there is always hope, even in the face of evil.

Everyone stood or sat around in the room, listening to Cordelia carefully as she spoke and smiled over Michael’s presence. The girl’s followed in suit, crowding around him in an effort to make him feel welcome. But Y/N stayed back with Myrtle, who seemed to be her only ally.

“You don’t really think this is a good idea, do you,” Y/N asked Myrtle with crossed arms. “You know this is stupid, right?” Myrtle sucked in a breath after removing her lips from the cigarette she held. “We may not understand her logic, but Delia has always had a way of knowing where her choices lead her and the coven. She didn’t become the Supreme for her recklessness.” “She may not be Supreme for long if this antichrist actually lives under our roof.” “Bite your tongue, darling,” the soft-spoken woman pointed to Y/N. “We need to trust in her. Don’t be a hater, dear,” she added, walking forward to greet with the boy.

Remaining impassive and unmoved, Y/N stood in the back of the room, watching the girls surround Michael as he timidly smiled and talked to his new “family.” She studied him carefully, overlooking him with narrowed eyes.

Michael stood around in his old Hawthorne’s suit and tie, soft blond locks flowing around his head just above his shoulders. She could see the piercing blue eyes from where she stood, seeing as they flickered around at each new face, looking to be overwhelmed and hesitant as he met everyone.

She hadn’t gone with Cordelia, Zoe and Myrtle to the Hawthorne school when the meeting over the Seven Wonders was requested. She stayed to overrun and overlook the coven while they were gone.

Seeing this Michael Langdon for the first time had her stomach tossing and turning, from disgust she assumed, knowing there would be no way any other feeling would result in her.

She couldn’t deny the boy was fit, standing tall and lean, a hidden confidence showing from him. But his looks weren’t going to distract or have her giving him sympathy like it had to Cordelia, and now, everyone else. If everyone else was going to fall for this sad boy act, so be it. But she wasn’t going to be one of them.

~~~

The first few days with Michael’s newly presence had Y/N weary and suspicious, but acting as she would otherwise. Teaching her classes (which Michael now attended), going over incantations, spells, offering tips and bits of advice to the girls. She simply just acted like Michael wasn’t there.

She was aware of his presence, of course always keeping a subtle eye on him to make sure he wasn’t going to suddenly expose his ulterior motives that she knew he had to have. But at the same time, ignored him completely.

As if it mattered anyway.

Michael was no stranger to feeling alone as the following weeks continued to pass. The girls at the coven graciously accepted him into their home. Offering their own bits of advice and “tutoring” skills to him, like he really needed it. He had already performed the Seven Wonders test. Why are earth he had to be present in each class, Y/N didn’t know, but she hadn’t understood any of Cordelia’s decisions as of late.

Y/N saw the growth in Michael, easily. From a timid, apprehensive stance in the beginning when he first arrived, to a sultry, cocky attitude. The dismay she felt in her sisters as they all seemed to fall to Michael’s feet, batting their eyelashes, giving too friendly smiles and too try-hard giggles, was sickening. This safe haven of a coven was turning into a mess.

Everyone was hesitant and careful in the beginning with Michael too, knowing who he was and where he came from. But it was all forgotten as soon as that little prick smiled, seeming to melt everyone’s hearts around him.

She didn’t understand it. He was the antichrist for a reason, and it was all ignored as soon as he simply breathed in their direction. Sure he was civil and friendly with everyone, but the charm he laid out, how enticing he became, it was like she was watching him lay traps out for everyone and smirked as he caught them all without lifting a finger.

Everyone could be problematic and fall for his stupid captivating blue eyes and perfectly plump, pink lips that grinned in a way that had Y/N’s heart dropping each time she saw the corners of his mouth raise if they wanted. But she knew who he was deep down, and that wasn’t going to change with the coven’s affection and newfound care for this figure of evil.

As long as she didn’t have to deal and interact with him, but could keep a watchful eye out for everyone, she figured everything would be okay. She’d continue to keep her guard up with him, but could go along with her life as normal otherwise.

But this wasn’t sitting well with Michael. From the very first day, he sensed the hesitation and aversion in her for him. He knew it was probably because of who he is and what he had done. Everyone would be careful with him of course understandably, but they all warmed up to him within a few weeks as he showed progress and potential in being better.

Everyone but her. Y/N.

And it made him furious.

~~~

The angered words, “What is your problem with me,” fall from Michael’s mouth as he tries to maintain a calm demeanor as he follows Y/N up the stairs of the double staircase towards the hallway that leads to her room. “Who said I have a problem with you,” Y/N answers back deadpan to Michael, not bothering to look back at him as she walks up the steps. “I know you do,” Michael starts. Y/N doesn’t care to say anything else, just continues to walk up the steps and down the hall towards her room so she can ultimately create distance between her and him. Michael persists behind her as she walks down the hall. He feels the annoyance boiling in him as he speaks to her, even if the conversation has just started. He feels completely ignored from her lack of prominent interest and attention to him. No eye contact, no emotion to her tone, a cold-shouldered type of vibe coming from her, and he hates it. “Hello? I’m speaking to you,” Michael glares. “I just told you I couldn’t go over a spell, that’s all. I have other things to attend to, don’t be so dramatic,” Y/N explains, stopping at her room door and turning to Michael who stands before her. Y/N had just been in the kitchen with a newly young student and was going over a Pyrokinesis spell with her to get started on gaining control of her powers. Michael witnessed this, and as the girl left, Michael had asked Y/N if she could go over and teach the spell to him as well. It had immediately become the longest conversation they had had since his arrival and Y/N was already tired of it. So she blew him off, saying she had to get going, and simply left with that. But Michael was refusing to accept her rejection. “Really, other things? Such as?” Michael knew she was bluffing and making up lies to get out of even wanting to speak with him any longer. He’d had it with her and was ready to face the truth from her on why she seemed so intent on ignoring his existence. “Is it really any of your business,” Y/N crosses her arms. “You don’t need to learn a new spell anyway. You know how to generate and control fire all on your own considering your.. abilities,” she looks at him with a bit disgust. “Considering my ‘abilities.’ What is that supposed to mean?” Michael narrows his eyes. “Exactly how it sounds,” Y/N answers impassively and turns, opening her door and walking in. She tries to close the door behind her, but Michael pushes it open, inviting himself in and closing her bedroom door after. “Get out of my room,” she demands as he stands before her in bedroom, eyes glaring at him. “Not until you explain what the hell I did to you,” Michael states. “What does that mean,” Y/N asks. “It means, ever since my first day here, you’ve acted as if I don’t exist, treated me like I’m not even here.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “You never call on me in class,” he points, “you don’t offer me any advice, you haven’t even had a decent conversation with me unless you count when we pass each other in the hallway and you give a fake as fuck smile when I say hello to you,” Michael explains, fists tightening by his sides. Y/N laughs a bit to herself and crosses her arms. “You think this is funny?” Michael glares. “I’m just amused,” Y/N explains. “You have plenty of ‘friends’ here, why does it matter if I’m one of them?” “You act like I don’t exist,” Michael calls. “Who cares? You’re seriously this concerned over a lack of attention from me? You have endless attention from any of the girls downstairs.” “I’d just like to receive a little bit of human decency from you,” Michael states. “Human decency?” Y/N raises her eyes. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Why would I be kidding?” He steps over to her. “You think I enjoy being ignored by you constantly?” “Seriously? Get a grip and grow up,” she drops her arms by her sides. “You have all the girl’s here fawning over you, giving any and all of the recognition and admiration you need,” she waves off. “And what is that supposed to mean,” Michael narrows his eyes. “Oh please, I see how everyone flirts with you. Laughing too hard at your jokes and sarcastic remarks, fluttering their eyes at you and speaking in compliments and flattery.” Michael lets out a small laugh. “You think this is funny, now?” Y/N glares. “I think I’m impressed,” Michael grins. She scoffs at his words. “You’ve clearly paid more attention to me than I thought you did.” Y/N narrows her eyes and crosses her arms again. “You’ve noticed all the female attention and praise I get around here more than I thought. I figured you were too busy with everyone else to give me the time of day, but clearly, you do pay attention to me,” he smirks. Y/N lets out an annoyed “hmp,” grinning frustratingly. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Y/N starts. “’Get her a bit riled up, that’ll show her and get her to admit some kind of...’ what?” She mocks. “Attraction and admiration for you?” Michael half shrugs, his hands clasping behind his back. “You’re the one that followed me all the way up to my room, demanding to know why I won’t give you some attention. You’re the one that’s concerned over the fact that I’m not worshiping you at your feet like everyone else here is, and you have the audacity to spin it back on me?” Michael with a smug expression, steps closer to her again, “Trust me, you’ll be on your knees for me sooner than you think.” Y/N glares, “You wish. Now get the fuck out of my room.” “No. I’m not done talking about this.” “Well I am, and I want you out. Now,” she states, pointing to her door. “It doesn’t work that way,” he tilts his head to the side a big, grinning lightly. “It does in this house. You’re not the fucking king, alpha or even the Supreme here,” she starts, taking a step toward him. “You’re beneath all of us, you will never be at any of our levels, no matter who your father is,” Y/N calls. “You better watch who you’re talking to,” Michael informs, anger registering on his face. “Or what? You gonna hurt me? Kill me?” She fake gasps. “Show everyone here that you are exactly who you’re supposed to be?” Michael glares more towards her. “You’re just a weak, scared little boy who craves appraisal and adoration from any and everyone,” Y/N taunts, “but then goes crying to his daddy when he doesn’t get his way.” Michael still glaring, reaches over with just a bit of space between them and grips her throat with a hand, forcing her to look at him, staring directly into those enticing blue eyes of his. Her hands grab around Michael’s hand on her, eyes widening a bit from the sudden touch. “I’d fucking apologize and cooperate with me if I were you. You’ll regret it if you don’t. The last thing you want to do is to be speaking to me the way you are,” Michael seethes, letting go of her throat with a harsh shove. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes, eyeing him with disgust. But then she suddenly begins to laugh. He raises his eyes with vexation. “You don’t fucking scare me. You wish it was that easy and that I’d just cooperate, but you won’t be getting any of that bullshit from me -- And don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me again,” she snaps. “You have no right to demand anything. You’re here because Cordelia fell for your fake ass act, but I’m not dumb like everyone else. I know who you are and what you’re up to.” “Yeah, which is what, exactly? Please enlighten me,” Michael asks, striding over. “You know exactly what it is,” she answers, stepping backward each step as Michael gets closer. “Everyone else may think you’ve changed, but I know you haven’t really.” “Haven’t I?” He muses. “Of course not. You can’t change someone as rotten and twisted as you,” Y/N glares. “Is that what you believe, or are you just trying to tell yourself that so you don’t feel guilty for feeling the way you really do for me?” “What,” Y/N calls. “Feeling what way?” “You know exactly what,” he smirks. “The only things I feel for you are disgust and repulsion,” she crosses her arms, trying to stand her ground. “You can keep telling yourself that, but don’t forget who I am -- which clearly you haven’t.” “If only I could,” she rolls her eyes. “Don’t act like you’re almighty and better than any of the other witches here, like you feel no sense of attraction for me. I can smell the lust radiating from you,” Michael speaks smugly. Y/N drops her jaw, mortified at his words. They weren’t true. Were they? No, of course not. She was repulsed by him, by every bit of his existence. He was just fucking with her, that’s what he was supposed to do, considering on who he is. She steps forward, closing the space between them almost as she raises her hand to slap him across the face. Before her hand can come in contact with his cheek, he grips her wrist, holding it before her. With a growing smirk, he pulls on the hold of her wrist and brings her into his body, closing the small space between them, crashing his lips to hers. Pulling her hand away from Michael, she steps back, gasping with widened eyes at his sudden actions. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” she calls. “Doing exactly what we both want to do,” he strides again towards her. She backs up, trying to keep space between them. “You’re the last person I’d ever want to kiss, much less anything else. I utterly despise you,” she glares, still stepping backward until her her back hits the wall. “If that’s what you want to call it, fine,” Michael smirks. “But I know we both want this. So you can either fight it and prolong the inevitable, or just let it happen already.” Y/N glares, hating the way he’s so arrogant in his words and supposedly knows her. He doesn’t know her, he doesn’t know what she wants, or what she feels for him. The way he’s so prideful contradicts his confidence, it’s just annoying. What’s even more annoying is she thinks Michael may be right about her after all.

Leaning up, she presses her lips to Michael’s, closing the space between them. She grabs onto the knot of his bow-tie, pulling him towards her body as he presses himself firmly to her, an arm wrapping around her waist, the other hand pressing against the wall beside them to hold himself up. Kissing deeply, enjoying the way each other tastes, sets off an explosion between them. Y/N’s hand moves around Michael’s neck, the other cupping his cheek as he continues to hold her to him. Y/N can feel the hardness of his cock against her thigh, causing her to moan softly into Michael’s mouth. Her hand pushes up through Michael’s blond locks, gripping and pulling at the roots lightly, causing Michael to groan himself. Michael removes his hand from the wall, sliding it down the side of her body, along her covered curves. He pushes his hand up her black skirt, pressing his palm against her fabric covered heat. He rubs against her teasingly, Y/N moaning out as she leans her head back. “I haven’t even done anything yet and I can already feel how wet you are,” Michael whispers huskily into her ear, cocky smirk residing on his face as he laughs arrogantly after. “I’ll slap that fucking smirk off your face if you don’t get rid of it,” Y/N breathes out as she looks at him. “I’d like to see you try,” Michael challenges. Before Y/N can say anything else, Michael pulls his blazer off, tossing it aside and turns her around, her front pressing to the wall. Y/N bites on her lip, turning her head as if to look back at Michael. “And what exactly do you plan on doing now?” “I plan on treating you exactly the way you should be treated,” Michael hisses into her ear from behind, pulling up her skirt to her waist, revealing her black lace underwear. “Fuck, who knew a stuck up witch bitch like you could be so sexy,” Michael whispers, hands grabbing her ass cheeks, rubbing and spreading them apart for a second as he kneels down. He kisses at the bottom of her back just before the trim of where her underwear lies. He kisses at each of her back dimples, finding them sexy, bringing his lips to her right ass cheek, kissing her, then the other side. Y/N’s breathes heavily to herself as she feels Michael’s lips against her. It’s a confusing situation. She figures Michael Langdon would be the type to fuck thoroughly and relentlessly. But here he was, seeming to take his time and kissing her affectionately. Until, Y/N snaps a, “Ow, hey!” when Michael bites her ass through the fabric, causing him to grin. The bite was hard enough that it would leave a mark on her for sure, which is what he really wanted. A discreet way of claiming her. He stands up after, fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear, pulling down until they drop and pool at Y/N’s feet. She closes her eyes when she feels Michael’s fingers slide against her heat, causing her to forget the pain of the bite, moving through her folds and to her clit. He rubs a circle against her, causing Y/N to moan out and bite her lip. “For someone who claims to be so repulsed by me, you sure are fucking wet,” Michael taunts, sliding his finger through her folds again and down to her lightly pulsing entrance to where he pushes a finger in. Y/N bites down on her lip harder but mumbles out a soft, “Fuck.” Michael pumps his finger in, starting at a slow pace, wanting to tease and work her up. His slow pace has Y/N prominently whining and whimpering and grinding against his finger for more friction. Hearing Y/N’s whiny, heavy breaths has him smirking, knowing how needy she’s becoming already. He adds a second finger soon after, Y/N releasing a relieved sigh, and moaning more as he quickens his movements. He curls his fingers as he keeps pumping, Y/N moaning out again. “You better be more quiet than this when I fuck the shit out of you. Can’t have the whole coven hearing you screaming,” Michael says, pumping his fingers and pressing his thumb against her clit as he moves his hand. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” she breathes out, but speaking as clear as she can. “Considering your incompetence,” Y/N says, ignoring the pleasure building in her stomach for a second as she bites back at Michael with her snarky reply. But then in one swift motion, she feels Michael remove his fingers. Y/N narrows her eyes at the lack of touch. But then she yelps, eyes widening from the sharp pain that shoots through her ass from the slap of Michael’s hand. “You sure about that?” Michael hisses, gripping her hair into ponytail and pulling her head back. She gasps, groaning a bit from the yank as she closes her eyes, whimpering a bit from the pull. “What was that? Can’t hear you?” Michael glares. Y/N huffs out a breath. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To not be able to hear me,” she says, opening her eyes and looking towards the ceiling as Michael holds her hair tightly. He lets go, her eyes looking back at the wall. “If you talk shit again, I’ll hit you even harder,” Michael whispers into her ear from behind. Y/N swallows, biting her tongue to stay quiet. Not to listen and please him, but to not give in to his dirty talk, knowing she likes everything he’s doing to her so far. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction and have him know how much she was really enjoying everything. Though I’m sure he could sense it. Michael slides his hand back down, over her ass where he spanked and bit her, and back to her heat. He pushes his two fingers inside of her with ease, pumping them again, curling his fingers and causing Y/N to shut her eyes and bite her lip to not moan out. Michael’s other hand reaches around her waist, sliding down to find her clit. He pumps his fingers inside of her faster, harder, his other hand beginning to rub at her clit in fierce circles. “Oh fuck, Michael,” Y/N breathes out, leaning her forehead against the wall. As his movements continue, keeping a consistent pattern, Y/N whimpers out softly, feeling the tightening clench in her stomach. “You know, maybe I do want to hear you scream,” he says, and Y/N knows there’s a smug look on his face without even having to look. As his fingers rub circles against her clit, rubbing her back and forth and harder, Y/N drops her jaw, feeling the wave of pleasure beginning to consume her. It builds and builds, she’s close and she knows she’s about to finish. Until Michael stops suddenly, ceasing all pleasure from occurring at all. Y/N opens her eyes, turning her head around a bit. “Hey, what the fuck,” she glares. “Oh, did that bother you? That I stopped what I was doing?” Michael smirks, his hands moving to the top of his pants as he unzips them. “Obviously it did, you fuck,” Y/N rolls her eyes. Another gasp leaves Y/N’s mouth, the sting of another slap on her ass causing her to groan and wince at the same time. It hurt, but so good, so deliciously, she wasn’t sure if she should risk the humiliation of asking Michael for more. “I said, talk shit to me again, and it’ll be even harder,” Michael states, grabbing her waist and turning her around to face him. With her breath heavy and shallow, hands hovering in the air a second as she doesn’t know where to put them, she gives a doe-like look to him almost, but then glares at him again. Michael smirks knowing he has an effect on her, clearly, and presses his body to hers. He slides his fingers back in her, Y/N parting her lips and leaning her head back, closing her eyes. “Maybe you like it when I hit you. You’re practically dripping down my fingers. Is that what gets you going?” He taunts her as he pumps his fingers inside of her slowly. Y/N opens her eyes, glaring at Michael again. “Are you just going to mock and tease me, or are you going to fuck me already?” Michael forcibly turns her around again, pressing her against the wall harder than last time and spanks her ass twice as hard as the last time too, the slap ringing through the room. “Fuck, Michael,” she breathes out, tightening her eyes for a second. She couldn’t explain how into it she was, the aching pleasure compensated for the pain. She’d never been treated this way before, and she had never enjoyed this intimacy with someone before as much as she was with Michael. She couldn’t believe she was experiencing this with him, of all people. “You don’t get to decide when my cock is ready for you,” Michael hisses. “You’ve treated me like shit since the day I arrived, like I’m worth nothing to you. And now you think you can decide when you get my cock? You really think I’m going to make it that easy?” Y/N breathes out shakily, his low, husky voice bringing a tremble to her body. He was right, she had ignored him, for lack of a better term, since he arrived. But now, she wanted him completely, wanted him to fuck her until she was sore and aching. She didn’t trust him, and yet, she was letting him do all this to her and was greedy for more of it. “Is this what you want,” Michael whispers into Y/N’s ear, the head of his cock sliding against Y/N heat though her folds, teasing her pulsing, slick center. “Mm, Michael,” she whines, leaning her forehead against the wall. “Use your words,” Michael grins, continuing to tease her, aligning his cock with her entrance and pushing in a bit, Y/N humming out pleasurably, but pulling back out as he hears her, causing Y/N to groan with frustration. “Yes Michael, fuck,” she begs, pressing her hands harder against the wall to help steady her, letting out a deep breath. “Fucking beg for it.” Michael hisses. “Beg for my cock.” Y/N bites down on her lip again, trying to contain her frustration and aggravation of Michael’s teasing. His cock continued to slick against her, teasing her, taunting her of what she so clearly wanted. “I want your cock.” “That was fucking pathetic,” Michael spits, drawing the tip of his cock back. “You’ll have to do a lot better than that.” Y/N rolled her eyes up, conflicted with giving in to begging Michael, or standing her ground. But when Michael teases her again, pushing the tip of his head into her wet heat more, it’s just enough to make her give in to the temptation and carnal pleasure. “Fuck, please Michael. Please fuck me,” she breathed out whiny. “Better be more specific than that,” Michael says. Y/N sighs frustratedly. “I want your cock inside of me,” she begged. “I want you to fuck me until I’m aching, please.” Michael turns her around to face him, her eyes connecting to his in an instant. He grabs a fist full of her hair like earlier, making sure her eyes stay focused on him. “You’re much more tolerable when you’re begging me to fuck you. When you’re needy like this, completely at my mercy,” he smirks, grabbing her leg and causing it to wrap around his waist. “It’s so pathetic, it’s almost cute.” Y/N glares, not sure if she wants to slap him across the face or kiss him. “Fuck you, Mi--” Y/N starts, but stops when Michael tightens his fist in her hair and pushes his cock inside of her. “Oh, fuck,” Y/N calls out, head leaning back slightly from the hair pull. Y/N didn’t have to see Michael’s cock in full to know how big he was. She could feel it, feel his massive, thick length as he thrusted so deep and full inside of her, creating an undeniable pull of pleasure already that was rooted deep inside her, something she never felt so quickly before with anyone. Michael lets go of her hair only to grab her throat, causing Y/N’s eyes to flutter closed, moaning out over it. Fucking into her relentlessly, Y/N thought back to how this is how she assumed Michael Langdon fucked. Not softly, not diligently, but rough, hard, thoroughly. She knew she would feel him for days after this encounter and she was embracing every moment of it. Michael rocked his hips harder against her, skin slapping against skin as he kept slamming into her, increasing his movements and speed. Y/N’s hand held onto the wrist of his hand that was around her throat, her other hand pressed back to the wall to stabilize herself as she felt the deep thrust of Michael, needing to steady herself as he pounded away, feeling an unhinging forming in the pit of her stomach as she moved with him and matched his movements. “That’s it, keep going,” Michael breathes out, gripping her throat a bit tighter. “You can take it. You can take my full cock filling up every bit of you,” he groans. “Shit, harder Michael,” Y/N whines through his hold, opening her eyes. Michael doesn’t hesitate to listen, letting go of her throat and gripping her hips tightly with both hands as he thrusts harder and deeper, reaching a spot and activating a new sense of pleasure in Y/N that she hadn’t ever felt before. The best sex of her life of course would be with the antichrist. “Fuck, I’m so close,” Y/N breathes out heavily, whimpering over Michael’s harsh movements that were causing her inner spasms, seeing the blissful expression on his own face as he fucked her thoroughly. Michael slides a hand from her hip, down towards her clit, rubbing circles along her as he focuses. Continuing to thrust into her, quickening his movements even more, rubbing fast, small circles along her clit, he doesn’t need her to tell him she’s close, he can figure it all on his own from the way she feels. “O-Oh fuck, Michael, right there, right there,” Y/N calls out, mouth parted open, the fullness of Michael and rubbing of her clit causing her to tighten her eyes as she feels herself starting to cum, waves of pleasure jolting through her as her stomach tightens and unhinges. Feeling Y/N contract and release against him, hearing the way she's moaning, the way she looks herself with feeling undeniable carnal pleasure, has Michael cumming himself, his movements becoming sloppier as he slows down and thrusts through his own orgasm.

As Michael slows to a gradual stop, taking a second to catch his breath, Y/N sighs out, feeling pleasurably content. Michael pulls out of Y/N, earning a wince from her in the process of feeling the absence of his large length. Michael pushes a hand through his blond hair, grabbing his blazer off the floor and zips up his pants again. Y/N pulls down on her skirt to cover herself to keep some privacy and dignity of the moment. “I hope you know that just because I let you fuck me, doesn’t mean I like you now,” Y/N mumbles, pushing down on her hair to try and contain it’s ruffled mess. Michael chuckles cockily to himself, and looks at her after pulling his blazer back on. He steps over to her, closing the space between them again, causing Y/N to look up at him. He looks her over, smugly, and Y/N wishes she knew what was going through his mind. “You really don’t get it do you,” Michael says. Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m not going to destroy your coven, kill your sisters and Cordelia, or do whatever it is that you think I’m doing.” Y/N squints her eyes skeptically. Michael suddenly grabs her throat, pushing her back to the wall, Y/N eyes looking at him confused. “If I wanted to ruin your coven, if I wanted to kill any of you here, I could in an instant and the world would go on without missing a beat,” he whispers lowly to her. Y/N glares. “I could annihilate any one of you in a second, including you, especially when you had your guard down as I fucked you.” Y/N glares more. “But I didn’t,” he says nonchalant. “If I wanted to, I could; I could have started with you easily. So you can drop the ‘almighty, superior’ act of not trusting me, and maybe you grow up and realize, people can change. Yeah?” Michael smirks, letting go of her throat and stepping back. Y/N hates how she’s given in to everything today. She didn’t want to interact with him in the first place, but with all that’s happened and so willingly, he was breaking her down. He had everyone under his finger except her, though, maybe now he was getting to her too, because she was conflicted over believing Michael’s words now. “You could be playing me,” Y/N says. “You could be bullshitting me into believing this, and then when I’ve kept my guard down long enough, you kill all of us when we least expect it.” “I could snap my fingers and Thanos you all,” Michael states matter of fact. “Did you just reference the Avengers: Infinity War? Seriously?” Y/N rolls her eyes Michael grins. “Just saying. I don’t need to gain your trust and make sure you keep your guard down to kill anyone. I could do it in an instant if I wanted to. But I don’t. So quit fucking worrying,” Michael states and steps to her door. Y/N looks after him, crossing her arms. Everything he’s saying makes sense. Clearly he’s powerful enough, what with completely the Seven Wonders. He could have killed her or done something when fucking her, too. What did he need to wait on? Was this Michael just breaking her down for some reason, or was he actually changing? “Also, I’m taking you out to dinner on Friday,” Michael says as he looks back at her before leaving. “What,” Y/N narrows her eyes. “Why?” “For our date,” Michael smirks. “Our ‘date,’” Y/N raises her eyes. “Should have bought you dinner first before all of this. All that gentleman shit, right?” She stares at him with a narrowed expression. “You can say you’re repulsed by me all you want. But we both know you’re really not. Anyway, be ready by 7. You’re in for one hell of night,” Michael winks and leaves, closing the door behind her. Y/N stares at the closed door, dumbfounded over what just happened. She hated and despised him (or so she told herself) just this morning, and now she was going on a date with him later in the week, apparently. What confused her the most was she was smiling now and finding herself suddenly excited for the date. Maybe Michael was changing after all. All she knew now was that it was only a matter of time before she’d end up falling for his captivating soul, like everyone else had. The only difference was, Michael was falling for her soul too. It was inevitable.

A/N: Any feedback is much appreciated! :)) Thanks for reading! <3

#Michael Langdon #AHS #American horror Story #Michael Langdon imagine #Michael Langdon story #Michael Langdon fanfic #Michael Langdon oneshot #Michael Langdon writing #Michael Langdon one shot #Michael Langdon fan fic #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon x fem! reader #Michael Langdon smut #Michael Langdon x fem reader #Duncan Shepherd imagine #Duncan Shepherd #Cody Fern #Cody Fern imagine #Cody Fern story

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justhereforseverus · 4 years

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A Rose by any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet

Miserable_toad

Summary:

After meeting Dumbledore at a party with Slughorn, he employs you as a teacher at Hogwarts for the new subject of theatre/literature of the Wizard World. One of the first tasks to do is to form a theatre group and organise a performance at the end of the school year. Yet, this subject is rare at Wizard schools and you are met with quiet a lot of suspicion from your students and colleagues. This causes more than one sleepless night and after Dumbledore can’t take your exhausted face every morning at the teacher’s meeting, he sends you to Severus Snape to get a potion that’ll help you sleep. Reluctantly you go to the teacher you’ve been most afraid of but with every visit your feelings for him change for the better. The menacing potion master seems to feel the same..

Notes:

This is my first fic and English is not my first language, so excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it as it has been in my head for aaaages. This plays in a non-canon time where business is as usual at Hogwarts but Remus Lupin is Defence against the Dark Arts teacher and his condition is accepted by everyone (because I love him as equally as our dear but difficult Snape AND HE DESERVED A BETTER ENDING). Slow start because I suck.

Following chapter will come very soon!!!!

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. I do not profit financially from the creation and publication of this story.

Chapter Management

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Chapter 1

: Methought I heard a voice cry ‘Sleep no more!Chapter Text

My first day at Hogwarts. I still can’t believe it. I’ve never thought that I’d get a job here with my.. profession. Three weeks ago, Slughorn invited me to one of his parties. He’s seen one of my plays in the small London Wizard Theatre and was entirely enchanted by it. Though it was his first play to watch, so I’m not sure how to take this compliment. Nevertheless, as theatre and literature are still something not entirely accepted as important or anything of high value, I nevertheless felt honoured. During the chill get-together, he introduced me to Albus Dumbledore. After some drinks, we chatted about fiction, theatre and the arts (muggle-and wizard ones) and his regret that these things are quite non-existent in the wizardy school world. A couple of days later, I got an owl with an invitation to teach all these things to his students. And naturally, I accepted as kinda broken actor and literature scholar.

Now, I’m here. I had some days to get familiar to the school, my room and offices as well as most of the teachers here. Minerva and Sprout welcomed me with open arms and immediately talked to me about their favourites works of fiction. Remus has visited me several times in my quarters and showed me books from the muggle-world he loved. But of course, there were some.. other reactions, too. Especially, Severus Snape, the potion master has looked at me with suspicion and rather ignored me during all meetings. I don’t think he likes me very much. Yet, his whole attire fascinates me. His tendency to dramatically walk away with his Dracula-like coat would make him a perfect actor on stage. I’ve seen types like him in many of my companies. Yet, I think he’d not be fond of this idea.

Dumbledore announced me in the great hall on the first day of term. It was interesting to see the reactions of the students. While many on the Slytherin table rolled their eyes and whispered how useless the arts are in their careers, many on the Gryffindor and especially Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw table clapped and looked at me with joy. But after the feast students from every house came to me and proclaimed, they will not only join my literature and arts classes but also join my theatre group. The first day couldn’t have been any better in that regard.

Yet, the whispers behind my back and the snarky looks caused me to be very unsure of myself. I reworked my first lesson schedules over and over again for hours and rearranged the material for the theatre group for way too many times. At about 3am I gave up on perfecting every little worksheet and took a walk because I knew sleep wouldn’t come that night. It’s typical for me really. MY ability to sleep vanished every time I was nervous or scared. It was especially bad when I had fears about the future, financial troubles, or when I was love-sick.. ok so maybe just every time everything wasn’t happy and well and I have to deal with things every adult has to deal with. My body cut on sleep every time I felt any kind of trouble apparently. Thanks for nothing. This status continued with the added stress of daily teachings and the difficult task of putting together the theatre group. The only time I don’t feel nervous at all is when I’m on stage or in front of a class. It feels like home, a parallel world and paradoxically…. it’s soothing and makes me feel at ease. The preparation for it however.. is a different story.

My first session of the drama group was compiled of about 25 students, which is way more than I expected. But after the introductions, I realized that apart from the half-born ones, most experience with theatre came from scandal-driven made-up stories from the papers, which dramatized the whole business too much. Only three had acting experience and the choice of the right play lied entirely in my hands as no one could recommend one that was realistic to perform with a cast made up of beginners. However, I was thrilled to have the curiosity and interest of the students and decided we’ll perform Hamlet because who doesn’t love Shakespeare! This should even impress the theatre-haters with the elements of blood, betrayals, and tragedy.

Unfortunately, the preparations left me rather sleepless Dumbledore noticed this after a month of short naps and 2-3 hours of sleep. One morning of me looking miserably at the way too early teacher’s meeting, he took me aside. “I know you’re under a lot of stress and uncertainty, but you got to sleep and this can’t continue. I suggest you visit Severus and he’ll help you with a calming potion.” However, that wasn’t something I was very keen on doing… I replied: “But…. I don’t think he likes me much. I’m not sure he’ll be pleased with me putting extra work upon him with my anxiety.” Dumbledore insisted though and told me to stop putting more pressure on myself on talking me down. He said: “Severus might be… difficult. But I can assure you, he is fonder of your profession than he might admit voluntarily. Tell him, I send you. It’ll be fine. Otherwise...” and here he winked at me with a smile.” I have to seriously think about employing a teacher that suffers that much under her work here. ”That was something like a jokingly thread but nevertheless it convinced me. I don’t want to screw this up. Well then, up to the dungeon….

Ok, not directly to the dungeon. I taught my lessons and procrastinated with absolutely everything to do before deciding on a time in the evening. I knocked after standing 5 minutes in nervousness before his office door. I heard a “come in” and stepped into the cold cellar of the potion realm.

#severus snape #pro snape #harry potter #ao3 #fanfiction #snape x reader #snape x female reader #snape x oc #snape appreciation month

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fullsung · 5 years

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Shapes // Winwin x Reader

aaahhh I’m starting a new series! I saw someone on here mention something about figure skater!winwin and the most random idea just popped into my head so here it is!

figure skater!winwin, ballerina!reader ; haters to lovers au ; slight angst, fluffy ending, might include smut??? Not sure yet we’ll see // wc: 1,227

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1

14 years. 14 years you’ve devoted to dance, 14 years you’ve made multiple sacrifices for dance, yet you wouldn’t trade those 14 years for anything else in the world. Dance was your life, and the one thing you found absolute joy in, it was your lifeboat.

You were the best at your dance academy in Beijing. The younger students looked up to you, the teachers adored you, and your age mates despised you, envied you. You started dancing at the age of 6. Later than most great dancers, but dancing was in your blood and you improved with impeccable speed, reaching heights in ballet most could only dream of. You were known and admired, but you never thought anything of it, simply focusing on your craft. Your parents were always fully supportive of your desire to attend a ballet academy, seeing as your father was the one who pushed you to do ballet in the first place, after noticing your admiration for the dancers you’d see on TV.

Your 20th birthday was not long ago, most dancers your age were already in ballet companies, seeing as ballet is not friendly towards age. With the prestige of your dance academy attached to their names, they were all in the top companies, however, you had decided a long time ago, that you would not pursue ballet as a career, knowing it would suck the joy out of it. Plus you much preferred stability, and ballet as a career was the opposite of that. So you chose to stick to dancing at the academy, guest starring in shows from time to time and coaching the younger students, earning some money on the side to make your college life easier.

Design. You were studying design at a university you somehow managed to get into. You always admired the pretty costumes and intricate sets for the shows you participated in and watched, and your love for the extravagant made you interestingly creative, so you figured design was a good fit for you, and so far you had been enjoying it. Sitting in the intricately designed indoor garden of your university, sketching the most random designs or trying to work your way through a nonsense essay was calming. It took your mind away from things, which was something that you never really got to experience, your days previously being filled with calculating your every move, perfecting your every step and turn.

Not long after your pencil hits your sketchpad, you feel a vibration coming from your bag. It was your head mentor at the academy - Mrs. Ivanovna. She was a strict woman, a renowned ballerina who moved to Beijing after marrying one of the directors for a top ballet company, switching her career to teaching, but over your years of learning under her, she had become almost a second mother to you.

“Hello Mrs. Ivanovna” you ask, “Hello dear, if you’re not busy, please meet me at the reception of the academy, I have something I need you for” her mature but sweet voice beamed back “Sure I’ll be over soon.”

You packed your stuff and made your way to the academy. The academy itself was glamorous. The marble walls and floors, the chandeliers and gold design, and the click of your heels echoed through the large space. You quite liked heels, seeing as they made your legs look pretty and your feet had grown accustomed to pain after your years of vigorous training, but you didn’t wear them all the time as you didn’t want to cause any more damage to your poor feet.

You spotted Mrs. Ivanovna standing in front of the grand staircase, not missing the tall, slender yet strong looking man standing next to her, a bag in hand. You approach them and Mrs. Ivanovna greets you. “Hello dear, you look pleasant today” She gives you a loving smile. Your style was simple and comfortable, yet elegant and classy, taking heavy influence from the rich and powerful women you were surrounded by while at the academy, and the many you met after shows as a young child, their sleek hair, peplum shirts and pointy heels never being missed by your big doe eyes, another reason Mrs. Ivanovna loved you. To her you were the walking “poster boy” for ballet, everything a ballerina should be, and although you didn’t mind, it left you feeling pressured sometimes.

“This is Dong Si Cheng, I’m sure you’ve heard of him” your gaze shifts to look at the man standing next to your mentor, finally recognizing him. Dong Si Cheng. Olympic silver medalist. Figure skater. You remember his name being plastered all over the Beijing news sites after he won silver four years ago, making him the youngest Chinese figure skater to win a silver medal at the Olympics. He quickly became the pride and joy of China, many interested in watching him grow as an athlete, and not only for that, but for his ethereal almost other-worldly visuals. You couldn’t deny, he looked unreal.

“It’s nice to meet you Si Cheng” You smiled at him, putting your hand forward for a hand shake. He however was not as smiley. Giving you a curt “Nice to meet you too” and a half assed handshake, his hand cold against yours.

“As you probably might have figured, Si Cheng will be competing in the Olympics this year, and his coach asked us to help him with his routine” Mrs. Ivanovna explained. You were confused “Help him? How are we supposed to help him? I for one, don’t know a thing about figure skating” you looked at Mrs. Ivanovna, visibly confused. “Well dear, figure skating takes a lot of elements from ballet, and figure skating isn’t just sport, it has artistic, dance elements to it as well, so many figure skaters receive ballet training, which is why lovely Si Cheng is here” She politely looks over at the younger man, but he was focused on you. You stared at him, noting the judging look in his eyes. Like he was scanning you, trying to understand what kind of person you were. “Okay, I understand, but where do I come into play?” you ask, “Well, all the teachers are far too busy and since Si Cheng requires specific training for improving his routine, I can’t put him in a class. Since you’re our best, I’d rather you do it”

You nod your head, not thinking anything of it. Just another student you thought. “Okay, that sounds fair” You smile at Mrs. Ivanovna, “Great!” She beams. “You two head upstairs, the 3rd practice room is free”

You head upstairs with Si Cheng following close behind. The 3rd practice room is the smallest, located in the corner of the academy building, but it was your favorite. The large crystal clear windows looking over the inner courtyard, the sun shining into the room illuminating the shiny wooden floors.

“So Si Cheng, you might want to get changed” You tell the older man “Please, call me Winwin. I hate when people call me Si Cheng, it makes them sound like my father” He firmly stated with the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard. “Okay.. Winwin, you can get changed in the room over there” He curtly nods and heads to the changing room.

This is going to be hell isn’t it?

Chapter 2 coming if this doesn’t flop!

#nct #nct writing #nct reactions #nct writings #winwin #nct winwin #dong sicheng #nct dong sicheng #fluff #nct fluff #nct angst #nct blurb #nct one shot #nct winwin writings #nct winwin fluff

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