#what a pretty little scapegoat he will be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genshin-scenarios · 7 months

Text

secrets shared by two—☆

Summary: Idol AU headcanons with them! (For another version with 5wirl, check my previous post!)

Characters: Wanderer, Albedo, Lyney

Wanderer & Albedo: Reader is their unit's junior manager, joining them at their highschool to make sure things are fine. You’re undercover, but they aren’t. (If this sounds familiar, yes the setting is inspired by Heroine Tarumono!)

Despite his annoyance at being forced to go to a normal highschool, Wanderer is pretty good at keeping a low profile. He'll study, do what's needed, and get out of there as soon as the bell rings.

All he wants is to be left alone and have some peace and quiet, but sometimes his fans would approach him with gifts and letters, which he'd politely reply to with a smile while hoping you'd come around the corner so he could use you as a scapegoat.

As much as you were all instructed to be secretive about your manager job, Wanderer does seek you out more often than not. He says it's because you're supposed to keep people away from harassing them, but you fail to see how this applies to other guys asking if he'd like to join a sports match during lunch.

And while you're plenty confident during your work, he's noticed you're a little less assertive in school. Which also means that you lose out on food items that get sold out quickly because you keep getting cut in line - so he pretends to be picky with food to give them to you.

Once, you were working late the night before and he could see the dark circles under your eyes. Suffice to say he got up, saying he wasn’t feeling well and needed to go to the nurse’s office - your teacher was informed about your job, and thus assigned you to follow Wanderer.

As soon as you get to the nurse’s office he simply stands there and asks you to lie down. There’s a moment of confusion before Wanderer explains he could hear you yawning from across the room (lie), so you should rest while he’s still in the mood to cover for you.

People can't tell if you're close or not unless they really pay attention (Wanderer tends to watch for things happening around you and Albedo, his gaze lingering only on people that he actually bothers about.) You once got whiplash from seeing him speak to others and then texting you after. He really is a two-faced idol… you have to commend his acting skills.

Surprises everyone (and this somehow makes it onto celebrity news, along with Wanderer's talent at kendo and literature knowledge) with his academic expertise - particularly in the sciences and painting/drawing.

Albedo didn't really care much for the attention, but with so many eyes on him, he’s careful about hiding the sketches he's done of you during class. (You’re seated at a perfect spot next to the window’s lighting, so sometimes Albedo draws you absentmindedly while he listens in class.)

He doesn't want to bring you trouble, which is why Albedo is also quite good at keeping up the pretense of a kind classmate whenever he helps you pick up a pencil you dropped, or takes half the stack of the class’ exercise books to the teacher's office.

Quite enjoys spending lunch times in a quiet classroom or the greenhouse - which is normally closed off for higher-grade science lessons, but Albedo managed to request for special access because he wanted to paint the flowers there in peace.

Of course, you become a part of this hideaway quite quickly - Albedo finds this secret rendezvous quite fun, and if you take the chance to have a nap because you're too tired… Who's he to deny you of your rest? It's in their unit's best interests to have their manager at optimum level after all.

Albedo has to admit; he quite enjoyed being at school like this because it gave him a chance to see you laughing with friends and having fun as just a teenager, rather than at work. This might be why on a weekend, he'd asked if you could accompany him to try the crepes nearby campus, seeing as it was quite popular amongst your peers.

Sometimes Albedo notices you doing homework while waiting for them, only to spring to your feet and pass them drinks and towels once they exited the practice room. He offers to help tutor you if there’s anything you’re having trouble with (Albedo can’t help but admire how much effort you put into tackling your responsibilities. It makes him confident that he can rely on you well.)

Lyney: a solo idol who’s great at capturing hearts - figures that you’re one of the only highschoolers in the modern world that don’t follow that side of pop-culture. Lyney is undercover here and dresses a little differently!

In school, Lyney tries to blend in. He’s friendly and has a nice smile, but above that reserves his energetic self for his idol work. It’s a little therapeutic really, to just attend classes and let his hair down (literally, and wearing fake glasses too for an extra touch).

The first time you took notice of Lyney is when you found him practicing magic tricks in a quiet corner of the library. You didn’t speak up then, but as soon as you turned around you let out a surprised squeak and covered your mouth; Lynette had just turned the corner with her backpack in tow, her eyes lighting up with equal surprise that you were there.

Awkward as it was, you quickly excused yourself and scurried away, trying to forget about the encounter. Later on you realize Lyney was in the same class as you, though he sat two rows behind you so you wouldn’t see him normally. When the teacher makes everyone switch seats however, you do find yourself next to him.

Lyney offered you a small smile and apologized for Lynette startling you the other day. You asked him about the magic tricks he was practicing, and the rest of your interactions were history.

Could you call it friendship? You spoke to one-another in class, sometimes in the hallways or library, but otherwise it wasn’t like you were close enough to hang out after school. It was a pleasant sort of dynamic though, and you enjoyed the routine of seeing Lyney every week.

Lyney on the other hand, was slowly but surely falling into dangerous territory when it came to you. He tries to tell himself it’s just friendship, but one look from Lynette and he has to bury his face in his hands to try to ignore the way his heart was beating out of his chest.

You’ve always expressed interest in his hobby of magic, and shared the same tastes in shows and books about fantastical mysteries… Sometimes he daydreams about your reaction if he’d told you he was the idol Felis; would you be awed, surprised, or intimidated? He brought up the topic of idols to you once, not-so-secretly waiting for your reaction, only to feel like a boulder had landed on him when you said you didn’t follow any of them at all, much less recognise anything beyond their posters and most popular songs.

…So you might think he’s weird rather than cool, in the worst case scenario. His mind gives him a slideshow of all the fanservice and promotional photoshoots he’s done, and firmly pushes the memories away from his mind. Nevermind trying to impress you with his job, now he hopes you’ll never find out! What if you laughed at him? He might have to move schools and never step foot in this classroom again!

Dramatics aside, Lyney does like to hum songs when he’s doing homework. So when you ask him for the name of the tune, he gives you a mischievous smile and says he’ll tell you if you dance with him in exchange.

Playing along, you sometimes wonder how much more of Lyney’s personality you haven’t seen. You’ve witnessed his cute moments, and protectiveness over his sister - but hints of something more extroverted plays in his eyes at times, inexplicably pulling you closer towards him.

You’ve always tried not to overstep your bounds, but it seems that over the course of these few months, you could never go a day without seeing or speaking to Lyney. Sometimes you wonder what he’d look like with his hair tied up, seeing as his sister always had hers in braids.

Turns out, Lyney is pretty good at dancing. It almost seems like he’s practiced this before, as he leads you in an improvised version of a choreography he’s done a hundred times. Perhaps it’s a more carefree version, but you have a feeling this improvised stage belonged solely to him, spotlights and all.

When you look back at Lyney though, the feeling is gone as soon as it appeared. Did you imagine it? You could’ve sworn that he wore a different expression just a second ago.

#lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney genshin impact #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin reader insert #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #reposting on a diff day 🪄#traveler wishes

370 notes · View notes

sipsteainanxiety · 10 months

Text

rotten to the core || bkg k.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 4k

mentions: no pronouns i blv, pro hero bkg, aged-up chars (24+), meet cute(?), slight fear of heights, bkg being a dick but what else is new, ur kinda used as a scapegoat for him, part of the meet fruit collab hosted by @willowser !! check out the other fics posted!! & ty to my friends who helped me brainstorm a title LOL (kissa u will!)

🍎 in which you get stuck in an apple tree... and have to get help from a certain pro-hero to get down 🍎

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have taken your walk today.

It was just—perfect weather, though. The first wink of sunshine that’d blessed the earth after a week of non stop rain. The air was cool and crisp with the gentle grip of Autumn, vibrant leaves colored in all shades of tangerine, burnt red, and daffodil yellow lining the trees and roads. You had to get out and stretch your legs after wallowing miserably at your window, confined to your little apartment for what felt like forever.

Your skin basked happily in the soft caress of the sun as you walked down a bricked path through one of the parks in your neighborhood. It was a delight to venture through since it was nice and tranquil—able to leave you to your thoughts as you watched the way light filtered happily through the canopies above you. Occasionally you’d see another pedestrian walking in the distance, but they hardly ever bothered you.

A sigh left your lips as you stretched your arm out and glanced at the watch on your wrist. You never brought your phone with you when you went on these little outings. You didn’t really need it, after all, and all the notifications you’d get would only serve as a distraction when you were supposed to be clearing your mind and enjoying the bumbling outside environment for once in your technology-infused life.

It was just after three in the afternoon. Nice. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jacket and continued on. Maybe you could stop by one of the café’s on your block for a warm drink later. A motivating thought.

As the path took you past a small, open field, you noticed a group of children loitering around one of the trees lining its perimeter. They were loud as they chattered and argued with each other, pointing up at the tree’s branches and making attempts to climb it to no avail. You’d fully intended to walk by, sparing them not much more than a curious glance, but one of the kids had spotted you and started loudly shouting and waving his arms.

“Hey! You!” he called across the field, and you paused for a moment and looked around before pointing at yourself in confusion. Was he talking to you? “Yeah! C’mere!” Apparently he was.

You slowly made your way over, wondering what the kid could possibly want with you. His friends all turned to look at you curiously as you approached. A few lingered at the base of the tree they’d been attempting to climb. Suddenly, you had a little audience and you weren’t quite sure what to do.

“...Yes?” you eventually asked to break the silence. “What’s up?”

“You’re tall,” the kid pointed out bluntly. You blinked down at him owlishly. To him maybe you were, but you weren’t going to say anything. “Can you get those apples for us?” He pointed up at the tree—your gaze following—and you realized they’d been attempting to pick the small, honey-crisp fruit that was way out of the reach of their tiny limbs.

There was only one problem. “I can’t reach those either. They’re too high up,” you told him with a frown.

He made a face at you, but before he could say anything, one of his friends piped up. “You can climb, can’t you? Please! We’re trying to fill this basket.” A weaved basket was held out in their arms, a few apples already rolling around in it. They all looked up at you in anticipation—nearly half a dozen little faces with hope glistening in their eyes.

You hesitated. This was not what you had expected to be doing on your little walk. “I dunno—”

“Please! Pretty please!” You were almost immediately interrupted as they all started begging you at once, a chorus echoing in your eyes. A few small hands reached out to tug at the bottom of your jacket. You were frozen, the weight of their tiny expectations weighing heavily on your shoulders. “Please! With a cherry on top?”

“Okay! Okay,” you acquiesced as you side-stepped towards the tree, your hands raised up as though in surrender. They were persistent, and you doubted they’d give up even if you’d said no. They all immediately started cheering as you trudged your way over to the apple tree, a grumble under your breath. This was fine. You would get them their apples and then continue on your path. Maybe you’ll get a drink and a pastry at that café later, you thought to yourself.

You stopped at the base of the tree and eyed the trunk for a second. A quick glance behind you showed that the kids had followed you, surrounding your figure in a half circle as they eagerly waited. You didn’t know why they thought you would be able to climb the tree to get the fruit when they’d obviously been failing at it before, but you supposed that was them placing you—an adult—on a more capable pedestal than them—little kids. You sighed again and started the arduous task of climbing your way up to the first thick branch you could see.

The tree’s bark was rough under the soft skin of your palms. Your feet braced themselves against the trunk as you used the strength of your legs to push yourself up. Your hands gripped onto the branch and you pulled yourself on top of it carefully, ensuring that it could hold your weight. It could. This branch—and the ones surrounding it—was bare of any apples, unfortunately, so you’d have to go higher. You huffed slightly as you stood on the branch—knees bent to help with your balance—and climbed your way to the next sturdy branch using the smaller ones around you.

It took you longer than you’d like to admit, but eventually you plopped yourself down on a higher branch and wiped the sweat from your forehead. You could hear the kids yelling encouragingly at you from below, telling you to Go higher! The good apples are higher! You rolled your eyes and looked around. They could make do with what you could get now.

It was kind of nice sitting in a tree. The leaves around you were mostly green, though you could see many of them starting to dip into a yellow color with the Autumn weather. There were a few ripe apples on a branch to your right that you could easily reach without having to move too much. You picked them easily and looked down so you could find the kid holding the weaved basket.

“Catch!” you called as you dropped the apples one by one. There was a flurry of motion from all the kids as they scrambled to move the basket up to catch the fruit before it could hit the ground. They sounded delighted and a small smile lingered on your lips as you watched them.

“More! More!” they chanted once you’d tossed down all the apples you could reach around you. Guess you really did need to go higher, then. Unfortunate.

Up and up and up you went, adhering to the whims of the children who watched you safely from the grassy ground. You picked more apples and dropped them carefully to the earth. Until finally, finally, their basket was full to the brim.

“Thanks stranger!” the original kid who’d caught your attention called up, his friends already rushing away as they giggled and laughed. He waved up at you, a bright smile on his face, and you thought to yourself that maybe helping them out had been worth it. “You’re the best!” And with that he ran off, hollering at his friends to wait for him.

You watched him go, then sighed wearily. At least you’d gotten some sort of workout in. Already your arms were starting to ache from hoisting yourself up the tree. You stretched them out, then moved so you could start to lower yourself to the hand holder branch below you.

The moment your foot placed weight on it, however, it let out a sharp snap!

Something in your gut dropped. You yelped and scrambled back on top of the branch you’d been sitting on, your foot having met nothing but air. Your heart pounded a steady beat in your ears as you sat solidly on the branch and looked down. The branch had broken and the next one for you to put your weight on was too far away. Shit. You swallowed heavily and found yourself looking at the ground. It seemed… awfully far away. And now that you were staring—realizing just how high up in the tree you were—you noticed there was this odd feeling in your stomach that only got stronger the longer you looked. Your jaw tensed and you forced yourself to bring your gaze to the tree trunk in front of you as you slowly moved to straddle the branch. A better position in case you… fell.

You took a moment to just calm yourself down. Damn it. Were you really stuck in a fucking apple tree? You chanced another look down and felt a bit lightheaded once more at the height. You guessed you were. You never should’ve taken that goddamn walk. You breathed in deeply, then exhaled it all in a loud sigh. No, no way you were going to be stuck here for who-knows-how-long. You needed to get it together and just climb down. Like a normal person.

You peeked around you, looking for any other branches you could use to climb down. But there were none—none that were within reach, that is, or that could hold your weight long enough for you to get to the next sturdy branch. Fuck, had that one branch really been the only one? Just your luck. Climbing up a tree was one thing, but climbing down? It was terrifying.

Maybe you could call someone for help? But no, you realized with a curse, that wouldn’t work. You didn’t have your fucking phone. You slapped a hand against your face in agony and mentally shook your fist at your past self. Well, you never would’ve expected something like this to happen, so maybe you should cut past-you some slack. Still, you think this is a sign to start bringing your phone with you on your walks, technology-cleansing be damned.

You slumped forward and resigned yourself to being stuck until you could call out to a passerby for help. There was bound to be someone walking the paths through the park—even though it was a rather… lonely place. It was only the afternoon, though. You could wait.

…

You were going to die up here.

Forget the café, you grumbled to yourself as you wearily held your head in your hands. An hour had gone by with no one in sight and you were slowly losing hope with each minute that ticked by. You were going to need a strong ass drink after this.

You sighed and reached above you to pick one of the honey-crisp apples innocently hanging from a branch. At least you wouldn’t go hungry while waiting. You glared down at the apple, its skin gleaming slightly with the golden sunlight that winked at you from the West. This is all your fault, you thought unhappily. You huffed and bit into the apple, the juicy sweetness of its flesh flooding your mouth and dribbling down your chin. You hoped those kids were enjoying their basket of apples.

Actually, it tasted rather good. Crisp and honeyed—fitting for its name. You reached up to grab another apple and stuffed it into the pocket of your jacket. Might as well take one home. At least you’d gain something out of this venture.

A movement caught your eye. You looked up from the apple in your hand and immediately spotted someone making their way down the path you’d been on not so long ago. It was a kid, from what you could see, holding a ball in her hand that she bounced occasionally. Your heart seemed to soar in hope. You swallowed the bite of the apple down so quickly that you nearly choked and raspily called out to her as loudly as you could. “Hey! Kid with the ball!” Your voice almost seemed to echo across the little field.

She paused and looked around curiously. You tried again. “Over here! By the trees!”

Once she’d turned in your general direction, you waved your hands and—after realizing she wasn’t looking up—shook the nearest branch to you so that the leaves would flutter around with a rustle. It worked. She slowly approached, clutching onto her ball, until she was standing at the base of the apple tree and looking right up at you. “...Whatcha doin’ up there, stranger?”

“I got stuck,” you confessed to her, the hand not holding onto your half-eaten apple gripping tightly onto the branch you were sitting on. You dared to feel just the brief twinges of relief. “Listen to me. Can you go get help? Any help, really. The fire department, a hero, a construction man with a ladder. I can’t get down and I’ve been up here for hours.”

The kid cocked her head at you and blinked, her weight shifting onto one leg like she was waiting impatiently at a bus stop. “And what’s in it for me if I do?”

What the— Were all kids like this? You tried not to let exasperation bleed into your voice. “Don’t you wanna be a hero or something? Please help me.” You were not above begging.

“I wanna be a doctor,” she told you smartly instead. Good, great. Could she hurry up and go already? You were starting to lose feeling in your legs.

Your teeth gritted together, but you let the frustration building up inside you fade away. She was just a kid; she didn’t truly know about your circumstances, though you’d practically spilled everything to her just a second ago. You licked at your lips and heaved a sigh. “Doctors are heroes too, you know,” you told her. She only looked expectantly up at you and you grumbled a little before reaching out to pick another apple. “Okay, fine. Catch.”

You dropped the apple down. She caught it in a small hand and looked closely at it for what felt like a long time. She held up a finger. “One more.”

This kid was really testing your patience. You rolled your eyes and grabbed another apple to drop down. She caught it again, and after a small nod to herself, started walking away. “Be back soon.”

Oh thank god. You felt like crying from sheer relief. You watched her disappear down the path and slumped forward, bringing your apple up to your mouth so you could take another bite. And now to wait some more. You tried swinging your legs around a bit to regain some feeling back in them. Hopefully she wouldn’t leave you out to dry. You grumbled to yourself as you finished off your apple and chucked the core as far as you could out into the field—an oddly satisfying action. It’ll decompose eventually.

You didn't know how much time passed as you waited for the kid to bring help. It was all a blur, honestly, broken up occasionally by you checking the watch on your wrist and not really processing the time on it. But eventually, as you found yourself boredly counting the number of fully green leaves on a branch to your left, you heard someone call up to you in a gruff voice.

“Hey! You the dumbass who got stuck in a tree?”

You looked down and made eye contact with what appeared to be a pro-hero. He had ruffled ash-blond hair that stuck up around the black mask over his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest as he glared up at you with glinting carmine eyes that reminded you of the apples surrounding you. A quick glance to the park’s path showed the kid with her ball, waving a hand at you before she disappeared out of your line of sight.

Aw hell, you thought as you recognized the hero’s costume of orange, black, and green. She’d brought fucking Dynamight—a hero known for his short temper. What were the chances of something like that happening? He must’ve been on patrol in the area.

“...What's it to ya?” you grumbled down at him, wishing you could conflagrate on the spot to avoid this embarrassing encounter. Just suck it up, you told yourself. You needed to get home, and the only way you were going to do that was by letting this hero get you down. Man, you’d really hit an all new low, hadn’t you?

“Right.” He scowled up at you and you wondered why he looked so angry. Maybe that was his default face. “I’ll jus’ leave, then, since ya don’t need my help—”

“Wait no! Nonono!” you called out only just a little bit desperately as he made a move as though to turn around. “I’ve been stuck here for hours, man! If I don’t get down I think I might die.”

Dynamight rolled his eyes and uncrossed his thick arms as he looked back up at you critically. “Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec’.”

You watched as he seemed to grumble to himself for a moment, then positioned his arms with his palms pointing towards the ground and tensed his legs. You blinked at him. Was he going to—

‘BOOOOM’

You yelped and nearly toppled right off your branch at the sudden explosion that erupted below you like a miniature volcano. Dynamight shot up into the air, a plume of smoke in his wake, and grabbed onto a branch that could support his weight. Then he set off another smaller explosion to propel himself up further, jumping from branch to branch until he finally landed next to you. Or rather, behind you, with the way you were sitting on your own branch.

You twisted your head back to look at him. He hardly seemed out of breath, and you were a bit impressed at his parkour skills. “Uh. Hi.”

“Shut it,” he groused. Without even a warning, he grabbed you around your torso. You yelped as he tucked you close to his body—the warmth that radiated from him that was a comfort in the chilly Autumn air, not that you’d admit that out loud—and promptly leapt off the branch. You had to swallow down a scream, your hands holding onto the singular arm wrapped tightly around your body for dear life as he used his other one to set off an explosion to offset his fall.

You both landed on the ground with a gentle thump and he immediately let go of you so you could stumble forward. Sweet Earth, how I’ve missed you so. Your heart raced in your chest—from the jump or from his unrelenting grip, you would never know—your hands moving to brush your windswept hair away from your face. What the hell, he really didn’t hesitate. Could’ve grabbed you a bit gentler, though, you frowned as you rubbed your chest. You were probably going to bruise later.

You turned around to face him, fixing your rumpled clothes in the meanwhile. He was much taller than you now that you were both on the ground, all muscle and attitude as he glared at you like you’d just spat in his dinner. You paused. “...I was gonna say thanks, but you look like you wanna kill me.”

“Don’t get stuck in a fuckin’ tree, then,” he snapped. You recoiled slightly at his words, then frowned up at him in offense.

“Excuse me?” You placed your hands on your hips, incredulous with his behavior. “Like I had wanted to get stuck up there in the first place! For hours, might I add!”

His jaw tensed like he was going to retort, but he scoffed instead and turned around to start storming over to the bricked path. “Whatever.” You gaped at his back and jogged after him. He was going in the same direction as you anyways, might as well figure out why he was being such a dick. Weren’t heroes supposed to be, you know, nice?

Though, you supposed you were dealing with Dynamight, after all. You’re not sure if he had a single nice bone in his body.

“No! Not ‘Whatever’,” you mimicked his gruff voice as best as you could once you’d caught up to him and kept pace with his long strides. The thick soles of his boots stomped against the ground with each of his steps. He shot you an annoyed look out of the corner of his eyes, but didn’t say anything. “Who pissed in your bed? Huh?”

You could practically hear his teeth gritting together before he responded. “Nunya business.”

Maybe it wasn’t, but it really didn’t excuse him treating you like this. “No, tell me why you’re being such an asshole right now. Aren’t heroes supposed to be not-assholes?”

He turned his head to give you a withering glare with carmine eyes that appeared nearly aflame in the sun’s golden light. It almost made you regret pressing in the first place, but you had at least some self-respect, and you weren’t going to let this guy walk all over you like this.

“‘M a fuckin’ hero, yeah,” he eventually hissed. “Supposed to be fightin’ villains ‘nd not dealing with dumbass extras who’ve gotten stuck in trees.”

You huffed at his response. Okay, maybe—just maybe—you could see why he was so aggravated. Didn’t let him off the hook, though. “Okay, first of all, ouch. Second of all, you’re a hero because you’re supposed to help people.” He opened his mouth to snap back at you, but you were too quick and cut across him. “Whatever. Look. I’m sorry you didn’t expect to be spending your afternoon helping me out of a tree. I didn’t expect to spend it stuck up there either. I appreciate the help, for what it’s worth. You saved me from a very uncomfortable night.” Even if he was being the biggest dickhead on the planet right now. Maybe he had a rough day, who knew. You decided to be the bigger person about this whole… situation.

Dynamight stared at you for what felt like a long, long time. It made you realize that you’d both stopped by one of the entrances of the park, just outside of it along the desolate sidewalk. You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets as you waited for him to say something—anything, really—and almost startled when you felt the cool skin of the honey-crisp apple you’d picked come into contact with your fingers. You wrapped them around it.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and let out a deep, deep sigh. Tension that you hadn’t realized was present along his shoulders seemed to melt away as they slumped slightly down. He sniffed and jutted his head out to the side slightly, sunlight painting smooth planes across his face and turning his hair into a pale blond in a way that was honestly pretty gorgeous. You’d take that admission to your grave.

“...Yeah.” And then he added a mumbled “Sorry” under his breath that you figured was the best you were going to get at the moment. He didn’t seem like someone who apologized often, from what you knew about him. “Rough day.”

“I figured,” you said lightly. Then, you brought your hand out of your jacket and grabbed his own gloved one to place the apple you had within his palm. You patted it gently. “Here. As a thank you.” Then, after just a quick moment of hesitation, you added, “Hope all goes well for you.”

And with a small nod at him, you turned around and started to make your way back home, hands in your pockets and an eagerness to your steps at the prospect of getting to rest after what felt like a very long day.

Dynamight stood there, at the entrance of the park, and looked down at the small apple within his hand after he stared at your retreating back for a few moments. His lips twitched for a slight second and he turned to head down the street in the opposite direction as you, his hand bringing the apple up to his mouth so he could bite into it with a crisp, sweet crunch.

#wrpte this in a frenzy dunno if its good but bone apple teeth #HAHA bone apple teeth get it? bc its apples HAHAHAHAHA- /shot #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x reader

409 notes · View notes

dean-a-mean-tae · 4 months

Text

Lap Cuddles | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

Request: "I don't know why but I wanna know what Nicks reaction would be to OT8 sitting on his lap."

WARNINGS: I don't think there are any. Boys sitting on boys? Mention of anxiety

Nicholas Ross Master List | ?Reaction style?

BANG CHAN

An incredibly rare occurrence. Usually, Nicholas is the one sitting on Chan's lap. Nicholas sleeps better when holding something or being held. So, if Chan is sitting down, he's trying to get Nicholas to sleep.

"Um, hello, old man," Nick smiles as he watches Chan get comfortable on his lap. Chan ignores his comment in exchange for putting an eye mask on the boy's face. Nick squawks in protest and goes ignored again as Chan pulls them to lie on the couch. The older boy lay directly on Nick so he wouldn't move.

"Sleep."

LEE MINHO

Doesn't matter what Nicholas is doing. He'll continue his task while one of his arms wraps around Minho's waist. If Minho is facing him, Nick will tilt his head to the side for Minho to tuck his head into his neck. If Minho is facing away, Nicholas will pull him closer so his chest is to Minho's back.

"You okay?"

Minho hums in response, indicating his content. The older boy slumps into Nicholas's hold. With Nick's arms around Minho, both could continue watching the movie on Nick's phone.

SEO CHANGBIN

Usually, Changbin sitting on Nicholas' lap means the taller boy was used as a scapegoat. Sometimes, the boys will fling Nicholas at Changbin to escape from him. Nicholas doesn't mind it. In fact, he likes the attention.

"Chubby cheeks and pretty eyes. You're a gorgeous boy," Changbin coos, pinching Nick's cheeks. Somewhere around the room, the other members could be heard giggles or grimacing.

The whole time, Nicholas sits there with his lips pressed in a firm line. The dimple under the left corner of his lips is prominent, and Changbin squawks at it.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Nicholas is the one melting in this situation. As soon as Hyunjin sits on his lap, Nicholas pulls him flush against him and nuzzles his neck. If Hyunjin hasn't started, Nicholas will make him with the twists in his hair.

"Need something?" Nicholas asked, his voice vibrating against Hyunjin's neck. Hyunjin shook his head as he continued scrolling on his phone. His other hand was occupied by Nick's fingers tracing his palm.

HAN JISUNG

Each time Jisung sits on Nicholas's lap, Nick pulls his legs so Jisung sits sideways on him. For some reason, it feels uncomfortable for him to have Jisung sitting on him like a seat. Jisung likes hanging around Nicholas for 2 reasons. 1 because he likes messing with Nick. 2 because they ease each other's anxiety.

"Excuse you," Nicholas grumbled as his phone was snatched from his hand and weight was plopped onto his lap. A knowing giggle made him grab the person's legs and turn them sideways.

Sure enough. Jisung mischievous smile greeted him back. "Hello, my little bumble bee."

"Go away."

"No," he hummed, scrolling through Nicholas's phone before finding a game he liked.

LEE FELIX

Common occurrence. It's more strange to see Felix sitting away from Nicholas than practically on top of him. Usually, the younger boy is tucked into Nick's side with someone(Jisung) on the other side. Since the two of them became comfortable, Nick and Felix have been practically inseparable.

"I'm starting to think I'm your favorite spot," Nick sighed. Another day, another hour, meaning another chance for Felix to cuddle Nicholas.

"You look so tempting with your fluffy hair and your long arms." Felix twisted around to grin at Nicholas, his hand pulling at the curls on the taller boy's head.

"Gee, thanks." Nick sighed again.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin is the opposite of Felix. He usually sits next to Nicholas, not on him. It's not because he doesn't like the affection. Seungmin just doesn't want to risk causing a flare-up. So, if you see Seungmin on Nicholas, he was pulled there.

"What are you doing?" Seungmin grumbled, pulling at the arm of the couch. Nicholas was pulling at his waist, trying to get Seungmin on his lap.

"I want to cuddle you."

"Get one of your stuffed things," Seungmin said as he softly smacked Nicholas' hands. After fighting for a moment, Seungmin finally ended up on a happy Nicholas' lap.

YANG JEONGIN

Immediate giggles. Nicholas isn't used to Jeongin doing things like this. Usually, Nicholas has to pull the younger boy into his lap. It doesn't matter if Jeongin is facing him or away, Nicholas will hide his face into the shorter boy's neck.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Nicholas chuckles, his arms steadying Jeongin on his lap. Jeongin rolls his eyes as he tries to get up.

Without struggle, Nicholas yanks him back down and latches tight. His breath is warm against Jeongin's neck as he whispers, "Stay."

"Okay."

OT8

When they first started showing affection, Nicholas was guaranteed to be flustered. After he grows comfortable with them, Nick will pull them into his lap.

Depending on his body, it doesn't matter which member it is. If he's in the middle of a flare-up, he'll calmly tell them, "Not today. Maybe tomorrow." And the boys will just sit next to him.

Nicholas Ross Master list | ©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #skz x 9th member #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz headcanons #stray kids headcanons

274 notes · View notes

melminli · 4 months

Text

A Pretty Boy Is Still A Boy II

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - it was time for coriolanus to admit to himself that he wanted you for himself, because he too was a slave to his own needs.

word count: 2k+

contains: slight misogyny/slutshaming, mention of masturbation, suggestive themes, simp/sassy coriolanus who is down bad, enemies to lovers vibes, jealousy, toxic masculinity

inspo for this

part I

Coriolanus never thought of himself as someone pathetic. Of course, he had enough situations he found himself in that made him seem like he was, such as his slightly insane grandma, the rats that were lurking inside their apartment, or the times when his stomach growled too loudly at the wrong moments and his own body decided to betray him.

It was things that were out of his control that made him miserable and he was fully aware of that, which is why he did everything in his power to get the control he lost with the death of his parents back into his own hands, where it belonged. It was his right as a member of the Snow family.

However, his body betrayed him in more than one way, and this time, it took more than just a dainty dish to satisfy his hunger. He hasn't been able to admit it to himself yet, but he's getting to the point where he can no longer deny it. Whose fault was it this time that made him seem so pathetic for being horny almost every day? That he couldn't stop thinking about dirty things while doing dirty things - so much so that he was even more sensitive than usual because he couldn't stop jerking off for god's sake.

This is so embarrassing, I want to die. He thought to himself every time after he finished, leaning back on his bed with his free arm covering his vision. Maybe this was his karma for all the times he judged random guys for being stupid horny teenage boys, because as it turned out, he wasn't one bit better than them. Eating cabbage every day didn't kill me, but this certainly will. I can live with a rotten stomach but not without my pride, that's for sure.

Maybe Coriolanus can still fall back on not being pathetic if he would simply make you his scapegoat. Of course, it was your fault. You were the one who started this all in the first place. You with your funny sparkling eyes, your stupid seductive grin, and...

He rolled over onto his stomach and screamed into his pillow in frustration. This can't be happening to me, I can't just be like those fucking pigs! Why are you doing this to me!

He didn't know whether he meant you or himself by the latter. He only knew one thing, and that was that he couldn't take this anymore. It had to stop. He straightened up and took a deep breath to collect himself before looking down at his pants. He was still hard, and he didn't have the privilege of simply taking a cold shower in situations like this if he didn't want to pay the water bill at the end of the month.

"Just one last time..." He whispered to himself and reached into his pants, since he always seemed to forget how long he would hate himself afterward when he thought of the pleasure waiting for him, as short-lived as it may be in comparison.

"I mean, I just can't believe he said that. To be honest, I just want him to leave me alone, you know what I mean?" Sejanus said, having barely touched his food since he was too busy telling his best friend about his worries.

Coriolanus just hummed as he ate his food in silence, listening with only half an ear. He would have preferred to not listen at all, but he didn't want Sejanus to start telling the story all over again by misinterpreting his lack of interest as him not understanding what he was talking about. You're living the life, man. I really don't understand what you're complaining about. And what if your father wished you were a little less whiny? It would do you more good than harm, to be honest. "He should be more considerate of your feelings." said Coriolanus monotonously, taking another bite out of his potatoes, only for it to stick in his throat when he saw your figure approach their table as he happened to look around the area.

You sat down across from the two of them and placed your tray on the table while your signature grin adorned your face. "Hello, boys. I hope you don't mind if I join you today."

Actually, I do. I do mind. but you didn't really seem to be asking for an answer since you'd already made yourself comfortable anyway. Why do you even ask if you're going to do what you want anyway. Coriolanus just kept looking at his food as he listened to the conversation between you and Sejanus. At least I get something out of it.

"Of course not. You're always welcome here." Sejanus assured you with a nice smile. "Still, I hope you're not here because you fell out with the other girls or something?"

You shook your head. "No, everything is the same as always. Besides, I spend so little time with you guys. I thought I'd change that." You said and picked up your cutlery. "And well, Claudia's getting on my nerves a bit. Did you know that she has a crush on Mr. Augustus? He's such an ugly old man, I really don't know how it could have come to this." You said a little disturbed and didn't mention that she had severe father problems.

Both boys grimaced at what you said, one more than the other. Augustus was known for smelling like bacon, and he also had more than one gray hair on his head. On top of that, he always wore funny shoes that made his feet look weirdly long. "I really don't want to judge anyone, but that's really kind of weird. like Mrs. Nerva is right there. Why are you looking at old Augustus?" He asked, mentioning the pretty physics teacher.

You nodded vigorously. "That's exactly what I said too, but yeah, I don't want to elaborate on that." You tried to change the subject. "You've let your hair grow out quite a bit, haven't you, Sejanus? I didn't know you had such cute curls. They totally suit you. I love it." You gave him the compliment.

Coriolanus looked up for the first time, to the right, where he saw Sejanus smiling a little shyly from ear to ear. He couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek in annoyance. I have curls, too. He thought somewhat bitterly but was too self-confident in his appearance to think that you preferred Sejanus over him. And they suit me way better than him.

"No, they make you look cute. Don't worry about it." You assured the Sejanus after he said that he was worried that his slightly longer hair might make him look a little unkempt. "More than usual, actually."

He couldn't believe it. Were you just flirting with that stupid district boy while he was sitting right in front of you? You've got to be joking. And what was even worse than that was that Sejanus was eating your words out of your hand like a tranated dog. Calm down. She's just calling you cute. Girls pay the same compliment to a handbag. If anything, she doesn't see you as a man. I mean, cute? Come on.

You never called him any endearing names other than that stupid Snowy and it wasn't like he minded or anything - he didn't care - but you always seemed to do it to everyone else and never him, which is just unfair. Doesn't matter. Didn't want some whore flirting with me anyway.

"Is something wrong, Snowy? You're so quiet." He finally heard your voice say and only now realized that Sejanus had left. You noticed his slight confusion. "Oh, he had to leave already. He said he didn't want to be late for his literature class. You don't have any classes now, do you?"

He couldn't look you in the eye. "No, I don't."

You smiled. "Me too. If you don't mind, maybe we could - "

" - do you not find me attractive?" Coriolanus interrupted you, finding his own statement very uncharacteristic of him. He shouldn't care, but he just had to know. He wanted an answer so he would stop thinking about a reason - thinking about you.

His sudden statement had thrown you off a bit. It took you a second, but the look in his eyes told you that he was completely serious. That's a bit unexpected, but I'm not complaining. "Well, of course I find you attractive. Isn't that obvious? Kids are annoying, Festus is into Aurora and has no chance, trust me I know and Coriolanus is..." You searched for the right words. "...a pretty boy."

He raised an eyebrow. He didn't have the information he wanted yet. "So?" He asked, trying not to think about how you said his name. Now, he felt like it was rather counterproductive to even bring this whole thing up in the first place.

Your eyes looked a little confused around the area. "So what?" You asked him and saw in his face an answer like, don't make me say it out loud, which led you to only be able to speculate about it. He seems a little insecure, and it seems like it has something to do with me, so.... "Why am I not trying to get into your pants?" You tried to read his mind.

He abruptly leaned in front of you. That wouldn't exactly have been his choice of words. "Don't say it so loudly." He whispered somewhat aggressively. There weren't that many people in the canteen anymore, but better safe than sorry. "...but I mean, yeah."

You just laughed, very amused. "Well, I'm not going to confirm or deny that I usually do this sort of thing, even if you think you've totally figured me out." You started and grinned. "And what? Do you want me to do it?"

Well, now he felt kinda very exposed, and you even teased him a little further when he didn't answer you directly. "I mean, to get into your - "

He interrupted you before you could repeat it again. "I know what you meant! And no of course I don't!" He exclaimed in a loud whisper, aware of how emotional he sounded. "What I'm saying is, no. I was just curious since you seem to be flirting with everything that breathes." He accused you. Just not with me.

Your mouth formed an O when you finally understood what he was getting at. He felt excluded. "So that's what this is about. Well, I don't know, I suppose you're just too pretty for me to just hit on you like everyone else." You said very obviously flirting with him right now. "Aren't you too good for that? The way I would flirt with you would be to take you out to dinner and then run my fingers through your pretty hair. Something more special."

So, she does like my curls. Knew it. The way you put it sounded just right, but he couldn't help but feel that it sounded a bit like... "I'm not a petite girl." He said offended. Somehow, your answer confused him even more than before, as he assumed it was just lust that attracted him to you. Stop thinking about going on a date with her. Are you out of your mind?

"So you wouldn't like it? That's too bad." You said, a little disappointed. You were really glad that Claudia was getting on your nerves today. Otherwise, you would never have found out how much fun it is to talk to Snowy. You had a little inkling that he wasn't quite as stoic as he always presented himself, but you didn't suspect that your behavior would be his downfall. You shouldn't have neglected him like that, but you were happy that you did.

Coriolanus wanted to deny it. He didn't want to admit it under any circumstances, but that would mean that he had to carry on as before. You seem to be attracted to him, too, and the fact that he knew that made it clear that he would not stop imagining what could be. Unless he confessed, of course. "I never said that." He replied.

"I'm happy to hear that." You said grinning brightly. "I take it you're free this weekend?" You asked him, aware that he would cancel everything else for you. You could see it in his eyes - he was yearning.

"I am." He replied, ready to plunge into new waters. Maybe that could satisfy his longing and everything could go back to normal like it was before. Where no single person had this much influence over him as you did now.

He tried telling himself that he wasn't like other men who wanted the whole cake, after one bite. Though, deep inside he knew that he was indeed just that. You already proved that to him.

354 notes · View notes

firefly-in-darkness · 7 months

Text

Make It Right

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary → Bucky Barnes broke your heart, can he fix it? Can he make it right?

Word Count → 1.6k words

Warnings → angst, heartbreak, swearing.

Beta → none.

Prompts/Bingo Cards

AFG Square Fill → “I don’t want you to be with anyone else.” - @anyfandomgoesbingo

AF Angst Square Fill → smudged makeup - @anyfandomangstbingo

Writer's Note → well, this is a little angsty one that's been sat in my drafts for a while… hope you enjoy! ✨

“I hate you,” you slurred down the phone, “I wish I'd never met you!”

Bucky’s heart broke at your words but he couldn't do anything about them, he hated himself for the pain he was causing you. He realised long ago that you weren't just friends with benefits. A few weeks into the arrangement, all of the rules went straight out the window.

What was wrong with spending time together, going to the college football games, studying in the library until darkness had fallen or hiding out at house parties when it was too rowdy for either of you to handle?

How could he not let you stay over when you looked like an Angel sleeping in his arms? The post-sex glow, the warmth of your body and the so-familiar scent of peach and vanilla filled his head with fantasies of the casual relationship being so much more.

It was perfect, you were perfect.

Until your ex-boyfriend started making threats.

The corridor was empty and it was just typical that your snivelling ex-boyfriend, Brock Rumlow, decided to make an appearance. Bucky didn’t engage with him, just brushed straight past him. In an instant he was pinned against the wall, winded by the blow.

Brock’s grip on Bucky’s collar tightened, yanking him forward and back against the wall. He growled and snarled at Bucky to retaliate but he just smirked at him.

“Oh, you think this is funny do you?” Brock spit out, “Well, you won’t find it funny when I tell the Dean that you were the one that caused that fight with Alex."

Bucky paled at the thought of being used as a scapegoat, he’d already had a few run-ins with Alex Pierce for making derogatory comments about you. If the Dean heard of this, Bucky was certain he’d lose his scholarship.

“Oh and if you go near my girl again, I’ll make sure that she gets caught up in all that mess too,” Brock shoved him again, “I’m sure she’d love to know how much of a violent person you really are.”

Brock walked backwards, laughing as Bucky dropped to the floor.

The words of your ex-boyfriend had taken over his mind and fuelled Bucky’s actions. It was all to protect you, he couldn't care less what happened to him. He wasn’t going to let you suffer because things went too far.

It pained him to see Rumlow’s arm draped around your shoulders at the last Panthers game. His eyes stung as he watched you kiss in the depths of the library. It broke his heart when you tugged Rumlow into a bedroom at Grant’s frat party, the seductive smirk on your lips.

“Saw you with Yelena. I came by your dorm today,” Your voice cracked over the line, “she's pretty, smart and witty.”

Bucky's mind raced, you had come to visit him? What has Yelena got to do with this conversation? You answered for him.

“Just wanted to give you back your leather jacket.” You hiccuped then your tone changed, “She's more your type, better than me.”

“I'm not-” Bucky tried to interrupt you to no avail.

“I thought you loved me.”

He heard the signature sound of the call ending. Without a moment spared, Bucky shoved on his combat boots and grabbed the leather jacket that Steve had found on their doorstep earlier.

It smelt of you, it was intoxicating. It encouraged Bucky to do what he needed to do. To tell you everything. He couldn't let you think he didn't care, that he didn't love you. Fuck Rumlow.

Bucky raced to your dorm. He should have come to you first, told you what happened and come up with a plan to stop Rumlow’s threats from coming true. Now you were drunk and vulnerable. He stopped in his tracks, he didn't know where you were. Scrolling through his contacts, he called Wanda, fully expecting an earful from your best friend.

“Barnes?”

“Wan, where’s Angel? She called and sounds wasted.”

“Why should I tell you?” Wanda snapped.

“Please? I need to tell her the truth.”

“Oh shit.” The sound of the phone being dropped echoed in Bucky’s ears, the panic rushed through his veins.

Your voice, the person he was looking for could be heard at a distance, “tell him to ‘fuck off.’”

“I wanna go to bed now.” You whined, Bucky could imagine the pout and blurry eyes you were giving your friend.

He started to walk to your dorm in the hopes that you or Wanda would give away your location if you weren't at home.

“It's okay,” Wanda's soothing voice was louder, no doubt comforting you.

“Need blanky please.”

“I'll get it in a minute, let's get you cleaned up first.”

The mention of your childhood blanket kicked Bucky into gear. You were at home. He ran. his legs moved as fast as they could to get to the shared apartment.

He was a panting mess by the time he reached the building. No clue what he was going to say. The stairs were neverending, the physical pain pressuring his body to stop. It was nothing compared to the thought of losing you forever.

Bucky pounded on the door, attempting to catch his breath at the same time. His fist didn’t stop hitting until he almost fell through when it was opened by Wanda.

She shook her head, “this is not a good idea, she’s a mess.”

“I’ve got to make this right. I fucked up,” Bucky pleaded with her.

Wanda opened the door wider for Bucky to enter and he sighed in relief.

You were sat on the couch with the blanket wrapped tightly around you, but even with the comforter, he could see your frame had shrunken in on itself. Your head was resting on a cushion, eyes closed as the sobs wreaked havoc.

Bucky’s heart broke at the sight and rushed to your side, wiping your hair away from your face.

You pushed at him, “Go away, Wanda.”

“It’s me, it’s Bucky.”

Your eyes burst open and he felt your shoulders go rigid. The crying had been silenced but tears still streaked down your face along with the mascara and eyeliner you must have been wearing earlier.

“Why are you here?” Your voice cracked.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears, “I should have told you about Brock, and what happened with Alex. I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

Your eyebrows knitted together, “What are you talking about?”

“Brock said he’d get us both kicked out of college, you know it would only take one conversation with his stepdad.”

You listened intently with tears in your eyes.

“I got into a fight with Alex, over something stupid.”

Wanda interrupted, “It wasn’t stupid, he called your girl a slut. He deserved it and more.”

You winced, “You did that, for me?”

“Yes, and I’d do it again,” Bucky reassured her.

You couldn’t stop the hiccups but tried to speak, “Brock’s -hic- gone. He was transferred. Something about his dad -hic- getting a better job at a better school.”

Wanda passed you a glass of water, “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

You lifted your legs to sit up straight. Bucky took the seat beside, afraid of what would come next. A scholarship-sized weight had been lifted but he still felt the pressure of you wanting to be with Brock, that you might not choose him after everything.

“I ended it. That’s why I came to see you, not just about the jacket,” You dipped your head.

Bucky’s index finger lifted your chin to look into your eyes and show you that he meant his words with all his heart and soul, “I want to be with you.”

“But what about Yelena?” Your gaze didn’t waiver, giving Bucky hope.

“We’re working on a project together, I am not interested in her like that.”

“I don’t want you to be with anyone else,” You whispered as if uncertain that you wanted him to hear.

“I was an idiot, I thought I could do this whole fuck buddies thing with you,” he shook his head, “I was wrong, I want to be your boyfriend, I want to show you how much you mean to me and tell anyone that will listen.”

“Are you sure?” You looked down, your hands anxiously twisted together.

Bucky took your hands in his. He was a fool, a fool in love with an amazing woman who thought he didn’t care.

“I love you, with all my heart.”

“I love you too.” You whispered.

Bucky felt like the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. He should have known all along that this was where he was meant to be; with you.

“Can I kiss you now?” He asked, wanting to show you how much he loved and cared for you.

Bucky leant forward, giving you the power to make the decision. It might hurt his ego for a moment if you chose to pull away but he wouldn’t hold it against you. As he waited, he vowed to do whatever you wanted, whether that was to be your partner or friend. If you asked him to leave, and even though it would be hard, then he’d go.

“Well, are you going to kiss me or just stare at my lips?" You quipped, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

Bucky pressed his lips to yours, sealing his promise to be with you ‘til the end of the line.

~ Tag List ~

@aeo10fan @capsgrl @charmedbysarge @coffeebooksandfandom @eclipses-and-moondust @emmabarnes @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @foxyjwls007 @gooddaykate @guera31 @ihatecats123 @im-squished @impala1967dwinchester @justagirlinafandomworld @justanotherblonde23 @justile @kalesrebellion @leyannrae @mishkatelwarriorgoddess s @nekoannie-chan @queenoftheunderdark @quinjetboi @redbarn1995 @selen-o-phile @starryeyeseunbyul @stuckonjbbarnes @stuckysavedmylive @suchababie @supraveng @valsworldofcreativity @vicmc624 @vintagepigeon @weird-mumbling @wiccanmetallicrose @writerwrites @doasyoudesireandlive @princessmisery666 @rainbowkisses31 @little-diable @ajaviary @pottahishotasf @itsamarvelfan-writes

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #sebastian stan

277 notes · View notes

itslottiehere · 9 months

Text

mors tua, vita mea — h.s

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know, i know, it’s been a while, but i truly hope this story makes up for the lack of writing! i’ve had so much fun while writing this, and i hope you’ll like it as much as i do <3 please, let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblog, in your tags, or in my asks! if you enjoy the story, please consider reblogging! it really helps me and also make me want to keep going!! without further ado, happy reading! <3

— inspired by “getaway car” by taylor swift.

cw: angst, a bit of kissing, some swear words

word count: 6.5k

gif by @londonharry

masterlist | leave your feedback or requests here

—

the backstreet was dark, a few spots of light showing her the way to the car she hid before the heist took place. before chris could know that there was only one way that night could have ended, and that was with him locked up.

she had been planning this for months now: their biggest heist, her biggest betrayal.

she wasn’t sentimental about it at all, it was just pure business: she knew the cops were closing in on them, so she had to leave before shit hit the fan. simple as that.

also, chris was becoming way too attached to her as it was, so it was really a two birds with one stone deal for her: she had always made it clear that their “relationship” was nothing more than work, but sometimes the nights in the safe house got boring and lonely, and the company was appreciated.

still, a few nights of sex didn’t mean there were feelings involved or anything of that sort, and no matter how much chris said that he “got it”, she noticed the changes in his attitude, how protective of her he became, how his touch would linger for a second longer, how he would double and triple check with her if she got wounded, how he would always make sure she was safe before worrying about his own safety.

how he made it so easy for her to manipulate him.

the poor thing never saw it coming. the pink lenses of infatuation making him painfully oblivious to the fact that he was never gonna see her again.

both her and the outside world, from her calculations: the cops would find plenty of evidence on him, in the safe house, that would tie him up with a pretty little bow and send him off to prison for god’s know how long, all the while making him the perfect scapegoat for her.

she couldn’t know if chris would rat her out, — although she thought it not likely, given the lovesick puppy look he had ever since they slept together, — but even if he tried to, she made sure not to leave any trace of her identity in any document, in anything that had to do with any illegal activity.

and even if she did, they wouldn’t have found her: the identity she used wasn’t hers, and she was gonna stop being the person chris knew as soon as she drove away, her new id card safely stored in the pocket of her jacket, the old one burnt to a crisp.

the soles of her shoes were scraping against the gravel, the ground wet from the light november rain, while she jogged to what would bring her into a new life, a new start. she had to get out of there, immediately.

what she wasn’t expecting was a dark silhouette appearing on the other side of the alley, seemingly jogging towards her.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

she was so sure she had locked the exit door on the back, so how did chris manage to get out? he would have had to figure out she was planning on framing him.

if that was the case, this wasn’t gonna end well.

she opened up the door to her car, ready to bolt, when the unknown figure spoke slowly: “wait.”

that was not chris. the voice was deep, rough, and the way he pronounced just one single word made chills run through her body.

or maybe that was just the adrenaline of it all, the fear of getting caught betraying her partner by said partner.

“wait.” the figure spoke once more, getting closer to the car. “i need a lift.”

what the actual fuck? did he take her for an uber driver or something?

she scoffed and got in the car, keys inside the ignition, ready to drive off.

which couldn’t be done since the tall figure decided to stand in the middle of the alley.

she couldn’t really honk, not when the alarms inside the building were about to go off and the place was about to be stormed by cops. she had to leave, and if she had to run over him, then so be it.

she put her foot on the gas, put in the first gear and was very much convinced that the man would decide to move out of the way.

but she had no such luck.

his hands hit the hood of her car, hard, while she pressed on the breaks with all her strength in order to not make him flat on the ground.

so much for survival instincts, she thought.

“were you really about to run me over?” the man spoke — his figure now becoming clearer since he was nearer than before. a lazy smirk cut his face. “mmh. i like you.”

and just like that he was opening the passenger’s door, seating down and buckling his seatbelt.

she was utterly shocked, what the hell was going on, why was he- “who the fuck are you? and what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing in my car?”

the man chuckled lowly, casting two deep indents in his cheeks. “oh wow, they didn’t tell me the owl had such a filthy mouth.”

the name made her eyes go wide: the owl. working in the darkest hours of the night was her distinctive trait, hence the nickname she chose for herself while doing business.

“‘m harry, by the way. don’t have a cool nickname like yours yet, but perhaps i should find one. what about the puma? what do you think?”

she scoffed, looking straight and finally driving away. “well, harry or the puma or whatever you wanna be called-”

“harry is just fine.”

“alright, harry, would you mind telling me why the fuck are you here?” her patience was wearing thin and she really didn’t want to lose any more time on this.

“oh right, sort of forgot to tell you, didn’t i? okay, well, my dear owl- hold up, don’t i get to know your name? i told you mine.” he turned his body to face her.

judging by the deep frown of her eyebrows and how set her eyes were on the road in front of them, he assumed he wouldn’t get it that easily.

“well, doesn’t matter for now. so, back to where i was: i have been checking you out for a while, saw your latest works and was very impressed. i’m in need of a partner, and from what i saw tonight, so do you.” he spoke, and in the far distance they could hear the police sirens and spot the blue and red lights: everything was about to go down.

harry coming to bother her on that particular night was really somewhat karmic, wasn’t it? she screwed over her partner, so fate had to bring an annoying man in her plans, once again. she cleared her throat, her tone dry.

“how did you know what i would do?”

harry turned once again towards the road. “i knew the police was closing in on you, so i thought that if you played your cards right you may have the chance to get away, and the better escape plan would have been to ditch your partner.” the man in her passenger seat stretched his legs, his arms raised up, his voice coming out a bit strained. “word on the street was that tonight something was going down, i thought to check it out to see if it was actually gonna be you. my lucky night, i’d say.”

harry had heard plenty about the owl’s operations and was extremely intrigued by her. the plans were intricate, but incredibly well thought out, and often went down without a hitch, and the chosen artworks to be stolen being invaluable masterpieces made it all the more admirable. he knew as soon as he saw one of her biggest heists go down so smoothly that he desperately wanted to be in business with her, so he began keeping tabs on her, which brought him in that alley, that precise night.

he didn’t expect to be so entranced to her.

sure, he was in awe of her plans and the way she carried on her business, but he was struck by her. even more than her looks, it was the confidence she radiated from her stance, her set gaze, her clenched jaw, that was what drew him in immediately.

he knew she was trouble, especially given her line of work. but it seemed like he couldn’t help himself to fall under her spell, and that was saying something, since she tried to run him over not even 20 minutes prior.

oh, poor harry didn’t know what he was getting into.

she wasn’t dumb, nor blind: harry was a treat for the eyes, and obviously way more prepared than chris ever was. still to that day she couldn’t believe he didn’t see it coming, it was all so clear to her. she was sneaky, of course, but he must’ve had some clue, right? or well, she guessed that what people say is true: love makes you dumb.

harry was another league, though. he kept track of her, which must’ve not been easy since she always took so many precautions to keep everything on the down low; he discovered her plan and also understood that the better route for her was to ditch her partner.

he definitely had more experience than chris, and that could be an advantage: for once, she could have someone to bounce ideas off of, and since harry managed to find out her ironclad plans, it means that something wasn’t as hidden as she would’ve liked, and having him could help with that.

when she started her business, she swore that she had to be the one calling all the shots: being the perfectionist she is, she couldn’t relegate the responsibility of something so important like a heist to someone who wasn’t herself. she decided to get a partner — enter, chris — just because sometimes it was physically impossible to do it all on her own. that didn’t change the fact that he was merely a mean to an end, he had no voice whatsoever in planning anything, and not once had he complained about it, nor he had any reason to: the money was good, and once he even got to win her affection — or well, what he thought could’ve turned into something more — he was good with doing whatever she wanted.

she had the feeling it wasn’t gonna be like this with harry.

or well, at least not that easy.

“that was impressive, not going to lie. it mustn’t have been easy to keep track of my movements. so, bravo.” she spoke, her eyes quickly glancing towards him.

a smirk took place on harry’s face, the praise of such a pro stroking his ego. “it was, but very much worth it.”

his voice was smooth like silk, and even the dumbest person walking on earth could’ve felt the flirty undertones of his words from miles away.

she quickly thought about it, a new plan. a new, better plan.

“okay, pretty boy. if you can keep up, i can think about being partners. that is, if you prove worthy of my time.”

“deal.” he smiled, and again the dimples on his cheeks made an appearance. “pretty boy, huh? should that be my badass nickname?”

“still better than the puma.”

that night marked the beginning of a new era, four years of the most lucrative, crazy, exciting heists the both of them could have ever imagined.

and over the course of those years, the inevitable and not so unexpected happened: they fell for each other, and they fell hard.

endless night of planning, scheming, and building trust with each other turned them into real life bonnie and clyde, absolutely drunk on adrenaline and love.

it was definitely not something she had planned, not something she had wanted either, but there was no denying chemistry: sometimes, things just happen, and you have no choice but to let them run their course.

harry was just as smitten: he was hooked from the beginning, and fought hard to win her over from day one.

it started as a ‘business partners with benefits’ kind of deal, a way to ‘pass the time’, — at least for her, harry was already harboring feelings for the woman — but it bloomed into something more, somewhat organically.

he still teased her that she became soft for him when he got injured during an escape: the rope attached to the top of the building didn’t hold up harry, who suffered a bad fall. his shoulder was dislocated, and she had to be the one who had to put it back in place, since hospitals weren’t really an option, and harry couldn’t ignore the look she held in her eyes, as if even just the thought of hurting him was physically hurting her.

he didn’t expect it, definitely not from someone like the infamous owl: she showed no remorse for her actions, no feelings for the first six months of them working together, and he made peace with the fact that that was just the way it was gonna be, but was pleasantly surprised when that revealed not to be the case.

the world knew her as a scheming, logical woman, but harry had the privilege of being her soft spot.

he was always a pretty open guy, not scared of having big feelings or of falling in love. he had already felt it in the past, he just wasn’t prepared to experience how powerful it could feel with the right person: what he felt for her was something out of a novel, a perfect mixture of infatuation, almost obsession, adrenaline and maybe insanity, and it was so incredibly addicting.

the last heist was a perfect success, their biggest bag as a matter of fact. the artwork they managed to steal had taken months upon months of planning, but it all went down incredibly smoothly: 7 minutes, in and out, exactly like they had wanted. they were already far when the police arrived, harry behind the wheel, driving their getaway car.

with chris, she had never let him drive, ever: she had to be in control of everything, of every little aspect, probably because she never fully trusted him. but she did trust harry, wholeheartedly so.

the drive to the dingy motel wasn’t too long, the night chill enveloping them thanks to the lack of a roof on their car. the adrenaline was running high still, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning in and leaving a kiss on harry’s smiling lips, their grins quite too big to properly kiss each other. but it didn’t matter, the feeling was all the same, the rush quite impossible to describe to someone who never felt it.

harry disconnected their lips, not before leaving a quick peck once again, and looked back to the barely lit country road ahead of them.

“very risky to distract me like that right now, sweetheart.”

“couldn’t help it, pretty boy. you’re just too damn good-looking.” she smiled at the nickname, and harry did too: it stuck ever since that first night, and harry definitely never complained.

“c’mon, we’re almost at the motel.” harry’s hand took its rightful place on her left thigh, softly squeezing the flesh, awakening a storm of butterflies and inviting them to bat their wings in her stomach. she rested her hand on top of his, gently toying with his rings.

the motel neon sign was missing a few letters, its occupants nothing less than unsavory, but she didn’t care: she wasn’t one to be scared in the first place, much less with harry by her side.

once they got to their room, she locked the door and quickly found her back pressed into it, harry’s lips straight on hers. she knew what was coming, it happened every single time after a hit: the euphoria of a successful heist was a very powerful aphrodisiac.

harry’s lips pressed slowly against her own, he was in no hurry now. after he felt her body relaxing in his hold, he moved onto her neck, and smiled against her skin when he heard a shaky breath falling from her lips after he sucked lightly on the spot he knew would drive her crazy.

her hand went immediately into his hair, tugging on the curls she loved to play with at every chance she got, while the other travelled down his torso, heading towards his belt.

knowing where she was going, harry detached his lips from her neck and looked at her: flushed cheeks, her eyes — his favorite feature of hers — slightly glazed over, her lips full and a raspberry colour. he smiled at the sight.

“sweetheart,” he murmured. “sweetheart, hey.”

“mmh?” she hummed, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the expanse of his tummy and chest, pressing her lips in the dip of his throat.

harry hated to have to tear himself away from her and her touch, but a shower was in order, and also making her wait made the whole situation way more intriguing, her getting antsy waiting for him really did a number on him.

her forehead rested on his chest, a small whine falling from her lips when he felt him trying to move away from her, which made harry chuckle. he softly pressed a kiss to the top of her head, slowly walking backwards towards the restroom, but her arms refused to leave his body, so she was stumbling along with him, her cheek still smushed against his chest.

harry reached behind his back to untangle her arms from his waist, not without her protesting. he leaned in and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, murmuring a low “be right back”, before leaving the room.

she felt drunk, as she usually did whenever harry was in near proximity, but there was nothing she could do about it.

she laid down on the dingy bed, eagerly waiting for her lover to be back and, to kill the time, she decided to turn on the tv.

what she saw sobered her up real quick.

the news were reporting a robbery at a famous gallery, two figures with their dark hoodies up filmed from a camera at the end of the alley.

a camera both she and harry failed to notice.

they were lucky the camera was at the opposite end of the dark and unlit alley, and caught just a glimpse of their backs, but this wasn’t good. this was not supposed to happen.

never, in all her years of planning, had she forgot to notice a camera, and the fact that this happened with their biggest heist made the blood drain from her face.

she tried her hardest to lower her heart rate and to focus on what the newscaster was saying: two suspects, no faces identified, probably left by car, all the other cameras in the block were somehow off during the escape — somehow actually being the work of one of harry’s acquaintances — and the police had no leads for the moment.

all things considered, it wasn’t bad at all.

so why couldn’t she seem to catch her breath?

the bathroom door creaked open, a bit of steam filling the room. harry stepped out, a towel hanging on his lower half, his body glistening with little droplets of water, hair matted and still dripping a little.

he had a dopey smile on his lips, which soon fell once he noticed that she wasn’t ogling at him as she usually would when he stepped out of a shower.

“hey,” he called out to her, “something wrong?”

she didn’t even notice that harry had walked back into the room, so she slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. her head quickly turned towards him, as she just as quickly turned the tv off.

“of course, yeah.” she smiled. “missed you.”

“could’ve joined me, you know?” he grinned, “never would refuse a beautiful lady like you.” he got closer to her and pressed his lips softly against hers.

she reciprocated the kiss, disconnecting it quite a bit earlier than harry would’ve liked, and murmured still close to his lips, “can we cuddle for a bit?”

harry’s hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs slowly stroking the apples, “yeah, of course. want my shirt to sleep in?”

she excitedly nodded, staring at his back while he retrieved a shirt from his luggage.

sleep came quickly to harry, his arm holding her tightly against his chest, comforted by the feeling of having her safe in his arms.

she still couldn’t quite catch her breath.

harry woke up to an empty bed: the creamy rays of sun beamed through the worn blinds, rousing him awake. as he did every morning, he reached for her, looking forward to hooking his arm around her waist and feel her snuggle against his chest. but that day, his hand touched a cold piece of comforter instead of the warm, soft body of his girl.

his eyes opened immediately, trying to adapt to the light, his brows furrowed as he knuckled his eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. his slightly startled heart stopped once he saw her seated at the little desk the room provided, typing away on her computer, wrapped in his sweatshirt with her hair still damp from the shower she probably had just taken.

way too focused on adjusting the last details of the meetup with the buyer for that same night, she jumped when she felt two strong arms engulfing her.

“morning, love.” his morning voice was a gift straight from heaven, it never failed to make her feel warm and cozy. “don’t like it when i wake up without you.”

she could hear the pout on his face, and she smiled at the notion that he was so affected by her absence. “good morning, pretty boy. just had to take a shower and finalize the details for the drop off with the buyer tonight.” she turned around and looked at his still half closed eyes. she tilted her head up, puckering her lips a little, “kiss?”

harry didn’t miss a beat and laid his mouth on hers, moaning softly at the contact.

she hadn’t lied per se, she had to do all of what she said, but she also couldn’t stand lying awake in that bed for one more second: she had barely gotten any sleep the previous night, the video of them on the news flashing continuously in her mind.

so she tried to focus on work, to get things right before they could go wrong.

the day went by as usual, the two of them laying low, preparing for the meetup with this anonymous buyer. the sum of money this person was offering was definitely mind blowing, and there was no way they could turn it down.

in the late afternoon, they left the motel to reach the location given to them: it was a rundown warehouse, obviously abandoned, and they were under strict orders to arrive at 8pm on the dot, to leave the car outside the main gate, and proceed by feet till they arrived to the container with the number 258: that was where they’d find an employee of the buyer.

it was all routine, they almost never handled a deal with the buyer directly, and they understood the reason. she and harry never exchanged names as well, for safety reasons, or any other details, just informations about the drop.

at 7:50pm, they were parked outside the warehouse. the chill of the desert air made the hair on her arms stand, a shiver running down her spine.

“cold?” harry asked, after he noticed her shudder. it wasn’t that cold at the moment for him, and it was probably gonna be worse once the sun was set all the way, but nonetheless he put his jacket on her shoulders, his big hands running up and down her upper arms to give her some warmth.

she smiled at the gesture, and tilted her head up, “thank you.”

he reciprocated the smile and took her hand, in the other one holding the bag containing the stolen piece of art. “of course, darling. now let’s go, wanna be back in that motel bed as soon as possible,” he cheekily remarked.

they walked hand in hand till they found the container 258, and knocked three times, as instructed. the shutter was pulled up, a man dressed in a suit, who looked to be in his forties, appearing behind it.

“welcome, you must be the sellers. please, come in.” the unknown man spoke, and she and harry made their way inside.

harry laid the bag carefully on the table, beside a briefcase, previously set down.

“thank you, sir. as per your request by email, the-”

“actually,” harry interrupted, “you didn’t speak with me. she,” he pointed to the girl beside him, who had a stony expression, “is the head of the whole operation, so if you want to explain something to someone, you can do so with her.”

this was also something they were both used to, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. if only they knew they were actually talking to the owl, they’d probably kiss the her shoes.

the deal was over in 5 minutes, the majority of which was spent with the two of them counting the money, making sure every penny was in that briefcase. after confirming so, they barely said goodbye to that sexist prick, and went back to their car.

the drive to the motel was quiet, but not uncomfortably so: harry’s right hand took place on her left thigh as usual, while her arm was stretched behind his headrest, playing mindlessly with his curls, scratching his scalp lightly.

“hey, pretty boy.” she called, a soft smile on her lips.

harry smirked at the nickname, he couldn’t help it, “yes?”

“i really love you,” she softly said, taking her hand away from his hair and moving it to stroke his cheekbone, “you know that?”

harry couldn’t help but feel his tummy warm up at her words, his cheeks getting a bit flushed. “i do know, darling, but thank you for the reminder.” he snickered, “i love you too.” he said, and took his right hand off her leg to grab her hand, planting a soft kiss to her palm, and to every knuckle.

once they finally reached the motel, harry turned off the ignition and turned to face her. his hand took a hold of her jaw, and pressed a kiss against her pouty lips. she sighed into the kiss, a thing that drove harry absolutely crazy.

“what if-” she tried to talk, but was quickly interrupted by harry kissing her again, “we go to the room to-” another kiss, “put down our things and-”, yet another kiss, “then we have a drink at the bar?” she put her hand on harry’s chest to push him a bit further, or else she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence. “if i’m not mistaken it’s right by the reception. sounds good?”

harry nodded, and to seal his agreement he kissed her once again.

after making their way down from their room into the motel bar, they sat down at the counter, harry’s hand on her back while she climbed on the stool.

the bar was definitely empty, just a couple of old men sat in the corner of the room, a deck of cards between them.

“two old fashioned, please.” harry asked the man behind the counter.

it was a sort of a tradition, getting that drink after a deal: the first time they did a deal together, he was the one suggesting going for a drink, which she — surprisingly to him — did not turn down. once they reached the pub nearby, she ordered an old fashioned, and asked harry what he wanted, to which he answered “the same”, and it became a tradition ever since then.

“oh wait-” she said all of a sudden, which made harry turn his head towards her.

“oh i’m sorry, did you want something else?” he asked, unsure of even his question, since she had never ordered something else.

she quickly shook her head, “no no, don’t worry, i just realized i forgot my phone in our room.” she stood from the stool, “i’m gonna go get it and i’ll be right back, alright?” after she spoke, she left a lingering kiss on his cheek.

harry hummed and with a little smile, he playfully said, “be quick, i’m gonna miss you.”

she returned his smile, and opened the motel bar door, “i’m gonna miss you too, pretty boy.”

harry didn’t think any of it after ten minutes, she probably got caught up on something online, or had to answer to an email right away and couldn’t wait.

he didn’t think any of it after twenty minutes, thinking she may have had a call to make and it was taking a bit longer than usual. he settled on shooting her a message, asking if she was fine. the message was left on delivered.

but after thirty minutes, he needed to check on her. what if she was sick and he was there waiting for her at the bar like an idiot? what if there was a problem and she needed his help, even if she would most likely never admit it?

he left some banknotes on the counter, and rushed his way upstairs.

once he stood in front of the door, his blood run cold: the door was ajar.

something was wrong, very wrong.

carefully, he pushed the door, reaching for his pocket knife; once it was open, his eyes darted around the room, looking for something out of place.

the thing is, it wasn’t that something was out of place, it was that something was missing: her bag, her clothes, her laptop, herself, they were all missing. there was no trace of her, as if she had never been there.

“what-” he rushed in, the door left slightly open behind him. he hastily opened the bathroom door, checking if maybe she was there, but, alas, she was not.

“what the fuck is going on?” harry muttered to himself, so confused that he was sure that his movements weren’t even making sense. his head kept turning from side to side, trying to find something, anything to help him understand what was going on.

he was never one to panic, always been a pretty clearheaded guy in every situation he’s found himself in, but not when his girl was involved, and especially when he was totally in the dark about what had happened.

his eyes finally zeroed in on a piece of paper on the desk.

of course, of course she’d be smart and leave him some sort of trace, so he could find her and get her back.

he stumbled on his steps, his legs wobbling as if made of jelly and with frantic fingers, he opened the piece of paper, which showed just four, short words.

mors tua, vita mea.

“wh-what, no-”, he rambled, shaking his head energetically, choosing not to believe the reality that was downing on him. “no, no, it can’t-” he kept chanting, over and over, but his rambling was cut short.

in his peripherals, he saw the red and blue lights bouncing off the dirty white walls of the motel room, the sound of the police car doors closing and of the steps of the officers coming up the stairs, but the sounds were almost muted, the shock making his ears ring.

the door was pushed open, three officers coming in first, guns blazing, while the others were surely waiting all around the motel, pointing their guns at him through the windows.

“put your hands up! over your head!”

harry robotically obliged, not in control of his body anymore.

“harry styles, you’re under arrest. you have the right to remain silent, anything you say…”.

he didn’t hear the rest of the miranda rights over the sound of the faith he had in her shattering, puncturing his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

—

18 months later.

“styles, you have a visitor.”

harry’s eyes opened at the voice of the guard, the ceiling of his cell staring back at him. those were words he didn’t get to hear often, only two other times, and both times it was always a nosy journalist wanting to write a story about a pretty successful art thief. he laid still, pondering whether to go or stay in his shoe box of a cell for the rest of the day.

“styles, get up. i don’t have all day.”

harry dragged his feet along the corridor, and once he arrived to the designated room, he headed towards the seat the officer pointed. once he sat down, he grabbed the black phone receiver, and didn’t even bother looking at the person standing in front of him, his eyes closed already in annoyance.

“look, if you’re another fucking journalist, i’m not gonna say a word to you, so you wasted your time coming here and i’m asking you to leave.”

the person in front of him hesitated, as he heard a shallow breathe on the other end of the receiver.

“hi, pretty boy.”

harry’s eyes had never opened so fast, and his heart skipped a beat.

no, no, this wasn’t real, this was just his mind playing tricks on him: stupid, fucking horrible and cruel tricks.

the voice didn’t match the exterior: the person in front of him had another haircut, a whole other hair colour, the eyes — the feature he most loved about her — covered by large sunglasses.

but he knew. he knew it was her: the way her lips were set in her natural pout, the shape of her face, the freckle she had at the right corner of her bottom lip.

the way his heart was going out of his chest trying to reach for her.

he was supposed to hate her — and he did, he so did — but the way his nickname fell from her lips lit up something in him, something that no matter how much he wanted it to be dormant, it was still there.

his brain could only manage to ask her the one question that nagged at him ever since that day.

“why.”

he stared at her through the glass, green tired eyes boring into her soul. she knew it was risky, showing up at a prison under yet another false identity, but she knew she couldn’t leave without saying goodbye one last time. one real last time.

so she swallowed harshly, and opened her mouth, keeping her answers short in order not to break down.

“think about the place where you first met me, harry.” she murmured, while his stony expression was staring back at her. “i had no other choice.”

harry chuckled darkly, a grin so deranged that she felt her blood run cold. this answer of hers opened the gate to all the hatred that had been boiling in him for 18 long months.

“that’s such bullshit, and you know it. you had a choice — you fucking did — and you made it. you chose to tip-off the police, you chose to leave your name out of every document, you chose to use a fake identity with me as well, and make it impossible to track you; you chose to pack your bags and steal the car, you chose to leave me behind and letting me take the blame for it.” his voice was laced with venom. “i spent 18 fucking months in this cell, with just one question running through my mind, all day, all night, every day: why did you choose to do this to me.”

“harry, i told you, i had-”

“bullshit!” he screamed, a prominent vein on his neck, while smashing his fist against the plastic glass, over and over again. “you ruined my fucking life, and you have the gall to give me that as the reason why you did it? tell me the truth! tell me the fucking truth! you owe me at least that.”

the volume of his voice and the violence he was hitting the glass with made her stand up and hang up the receiver, scrambling to get away from him before his actions brought too much attention on her as well. three officers had to come in to stop harry from smashing down the glass and jumping on the other side of the window, and had to drag him away whilst he was still fighting with all his strength, his legs kicking and arms flailing trying to be freed, his voice repeatedly shouting just one word, over and over: why.

nine days later, harry found himself moved to a facility of a higher security rank: his violent act during the visit wasn’t an isolated episode, and basically opened the door to a side of harry that he never knew. he never knew such anger in his life.

the guard guiding him stopped in front of the nth same looking cell.

“bradford, your new roomie is here.” the guard sarcastically said, making harry want to punch his face in, but unable to do so because of the cuffs on his wrists.

the man laying in the bunk barely scoffed and glanced at harry while he was walking into his new “home”.

once the guard went away, bradford turned to harry and looked him up and down, then returned to stare at the ceiling. harry could perhaps even manage to put up with the guy, if he always kept this quiet, but he felt like at least an introduction was to be done, to be the least civil. “‘m harry, harry styles. and you are?”

his new cellmate groaned softly while standing up, putting his legs down from the bunk.

“i’m bradford, chris bradford. and i know exactly who you are.”

harry was definitely dumbfounded, “what? how do you-?”

“your case was all over the news, even inmates got to know about it. but most of all, i know you because i’ve been you.”

harry’s confusion must’ve been displayed clearly on his face, because chris just scoffed and kept on talking.

“we’ve been framed by the same person." he murmured, "and we’re gonna take her down together.”

—

the latin phrase mors tua vita mea, of medieval origin, means “your death, my life” (or: “your death (is) my life”).

beyond the dramatic tone of the literal sense, this expression is used when within a competition or in the attempt to reach a goal there can be only one winner: the saying indicates that the failure of one is an indispensable prerequisite for the success of another.

—

taglist: @a-strange-familiar @stilesissaved @harrysonlylover @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kittenhere @neverstaisfied

–

please, let me know what you think and please, please reblog! thank you so much for being here, it means the world <3 also, just a little fyi, there's no plan for a part 2!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #getaway car #harry styles x you #my writing #harry styles story #harry styles imagine

225 notes · View notes

phoebe-the-autism-fairy · 4 months

Text

Perfect Peter was abused too

TW for themes of abuse for this rant

So for context of this title, I grew up watching Horrid Henry, and as I grew older, I realised that Henry's parents were pretty damn toxic and neglectful towards him, such as punishing him at the drop of a hat, constantly taking things away from him, blaming him for everything, etc. It's fair to say that Henry is a victim of neglectful and somewhat abusive parents.

And I used to think it was Peter who was the true "villain" because he's generally portrayed that way through Henry's perspective. But over time, I realised that Peter was also facing abuse from his parents, but on the other end of the parental abuse spectrum (if that's even a thing).

While Henry is the scapegoat, Peter is the golden child; the kid who can do no wrong, who always is put on a pedestal and has to be perfect and well behaved, otherwise he is made to feel shame and disappointment. And because of this, he is a constant people pleaser and always tries to please his parents otherwise he feels like a disappointment. However, even when he is misbehaving, he never gets in trouble for it, like in the episode Perfect Peter's horrid day, he wants to push the boundaries and try and get in trouble, but no matter what, Henry is ALWAYS blamed while Peter is doted over.

Anyways I headcanon that Henry and Peter grow closer when they grow up and they both go no-contact with their parents. For Henry he has no issue cutting them off immediately, but for Peter it takes him a little bit longer because of how he was raised, and even has second thoughts about it but realises that it's not a healthy dynamic that he was raised with.

#My thoughts #Horrid Henry #Henry and Peter's parents are fuckin stupid #Perfect Peter #abuse tw

145 notes · View notes

milaisreading · 1 year

Note

Hello! It’s my first time ever requesting in tumblr and i really really love your works! I was wondering if you could do a scenario about manager who’s bad at playing soccer and players ( u-20/BLLK/neo-egoist…) got into argument about who will teach her xd

Author: Hello! Happy to hear that I am your first request and I hope you like this! Thank you for the support and have a great day🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Come on, (Y/n)! It will be fun!" Bachira urged the girl, who simply shook her head, looking at the football he was holding in disgust, then nervously laughed.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Why? Come on, we will go easy on you!" Isagi said, wanting to play football with her. It was a relatively peaceful day at Blue Lock anyways, aside from Kaiser pissing Isagi and Rin off, it was peaceful.

"That's not a good idea because..." (Y/n) gulped, a little embarrassed to admit she was downright horrendous at the sport.

'They will probably make fun of me for it!'

"Come on! Just relax for the day." Kunigami and Chigiri urged. (Y/n) looked around the place nervously, trying to find some saving grace. Most of the Blue Lock members were in their room, using today as a rest day. The ones who were here: Isagi, Kunigami, Bachira, Chigiri, Reo and Nagi were essentially trying to get her to play with them. Rin was out with his brother somewhere, while Kaiser and Ness were with their team, so there was nobody she could use as a scapegoat... well, except...

'Fuck my life!' She cringed and looked over at the U-20 captain.

"Aiku said he might need my help with... something! What was it again?!"

Oliver looked at the girl, startled that she even addressed him. The others were in disbelief too, knowing that (Y/n) didn't have the best of relationship with him, but she was now looking at him like he hung up the moon.

"What dream is this?" Bachira muttered and pinched his cheeks.

Oliver watched with a raised eyebrow as she escaped Nagi's grip and ran to him.

"So... ready for me to help you with that... thing?" (Y/n) asked the dumbfounded captain, who recovered pretty fast and nodded his head.

"Of course, come on."

Oliver smiled and pulled (Y/n) along, sending the group a smirk as they were glaring at him.

Once gone, Bachira kicked the ball in rage and grinned at the door.

"When did he get so close to (Y/n)? Didn't we keep him away from her?"

"Apparently not good enough... Why my dear (Y/n), why pick that hobo over me?" Reo sobbed as Nagi cracked his knuckles.

"We should have beat him up instead of playing bowling." The albino said.

"Maybe... maybe (Y/n) would rather play football with him instead of us..." Isagi whispered, hurt and panic lacing his tone.

"What?! This is a tragedy, I am way better than that womanizer freak! Why?!" Chigiri cried out.

"You all... do you think that (Y/n) might have a thing for Aiku? I mean... did you see the way she looked at him?" Nagi questioned, causing everyone to look at him in horror.

"Nonono... she hates him. I am sure we just saw shit." Kunigami protested the idea, there is no way their sweet manager would like him.

"Well... you know what they say... the line between love and hate is thin." Isagi gulped, causing silence to fall on the group.

"Why are you guys so down?" Rin raised his eyebrow as him and Sae approached the panicked group.

"(Y/n) wants to marry Aiku and play football with him!" Bachira yelled, causing Sae to spit out his drink.

"The hell are you guys talking about?! Why would (Y/n) want to play with a lukewarm hobo?" Rin asked, already getting agitated.

"We tried to get her to play football with us, and she picked Aiku." Reo answered solemnly.

"You all are dumb, for 2 reasons. One that you think lukewarms such as yourselves are worthy of asking (Y/n) that." Rin started, ignoring the glares he received from his teammates, and then continued.

"And 2nd for believing (Y/n) would like Aiku."

"You didn't see the way she looked at him." Kunigami said.

"What do you mean by that?" Sae spoke up, already pissed at his teammate.

"She looked like he hung up the moon and stars... like he is a God or something." Chigiri explained.

'That little piece of shit!' Sae and Rin thought.

While the group was plotting Oliver's death, the captain himself was over the moon as he talked about thr various places he visited in Italy. (Y/n) would chime in with a question here and there, finding him surprisingly pleasant to talk to... well unless he tried to flirt. They were now in the training area designated for the U-20 team, with (Y/n) doing some check-ups on equipment.

"Say, why did you pick to hang out with me?" Oliver suddenly asked, causing (Y/n) to look away from her clipboard and at him.

"Oh... I'm... no reason!" She said as Oliver got up and moved closer to the girl.

"I don't believe you. Now tell me what it is about, Cutie?"

'Kill me, what are these nicknames?!' (Y/n) cringed and contemplated on if she should tell him or not.

"I am very much open and transparent with you, shouldn't you be the same? Seems only fair." Oliver said, leaning down.

"Rin, don't start a fight no- did you just bite me?!" Isagi flinched as him and Kunigami held back the two brothers from starting a fight. Nagi sighed and opened the door to the U-20 training hall, only to choke on his spit at the scene he was seeing.

"That piece of shit..."

"What is it?" Reo raised his eyebrow and peeked inside too, only to shriek away right after.

"What?" Chigiri and Bachira asked.

"Aiku is trying to kiss (Y/n)!" Reo exclaimed as the others froze for a moment.

"Nevermind about peace, I am beating him up first." Kunigami said, letting go of a seething Sae.

"No way, I will!" Bachira added, grinning maniacally as Nagi and Reo walked into the room, ready to pull their manager away.

"Ah... I just don't know how to play football... and I was too embarrassed to admit it." Nagi and Reo stopped in their tracks and looked at each other.

"Sorry for using you like this! I was just embarrassed to say anything... it sounds rediculous."

Oliver hummed and nodded his head, then put his arm around her shoulders and grinned.

"Then I will teach you the basics. What better way than to learn it from a captain-"

"Hold it! You are not teaching anyone anything!" Reo yelled, pulling (Y/n) away from Oliver and glared up at him.

"What are you guys doing here?!" (Y/n) asked, horrified that Reo and Nagi heard her.

"We came to get you! Don't listen to anything he tells you!" Reo said and pointed at the offended boy.

"Yeah, we can teach you how to play." Nagi yawned, sending a glare to Oliver.

"We? You mean me! I am the best ranked one in Blue Lock." Rin chimed in.

"Cut the crap! I can do a way better job!" Bachira said as he smiled at (Y/n).

"I am the fastest and most patient one of you all. Please, I will do that." Chigiri said calmly, earning an eyeroll from Isagi.

"Not as patient as I am."

'Good God... over football of all things.' (Y/n) groaned as she watched the group argue.

"Come on, let's do something else. Ego-san will hear the commotion soon." Reo whispered to (Y/n) and pulled her out of the training room, Nagi following them close behind, satisfied that the girl was away from Oliver, who was getting scolded by Sae and Rin.

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #chigiri hyoma #blue lock requests #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #itoshi brothers #oliver aiku #blue lock kunigami #manager reader

374 notes · View notes

nekropsii · 4 months

Note

🔥

Dancestors

[For the Unpopular Opinions Ask Game!!]

Okay, this may come across to some as harsh, but I don’t care. You asked for Unpopular Opinions. This is one of them. It’s heated. It needs to be said.

The way people continuously searched for reasons to get mad at the Alpha Trolls and still to this day continuously search for them to the point of literally fucking making shit up is embarrassing. The fact that people- fans!- use them as their little scapegoat for “everything wrong with Homestuck” is embarrassing.

The way people will make up and pass around straight up lies about the Alpha Trolls just for the sake of Outrage Farming is embarrassing. The fact that these are all taken as truth, more so than the literal text of the Alpha Troll plot lines, simply because people didn’t have anything else to yell at that week, is fucking embarrassing.

I once watched a pretty good Homestuck video essay on YouTube. It was a great time. The premise of it was basically a retrospective on Homestuck and it’s plot in broad strokes, and why the whole thing is good and cool and you should read it. Very nice. The speaker had a lovely voice. And then, for some ungodly fucking reason, right at the end, they started going on some very long winded, incredibly wrong diatribe about the Alpha Trolls and why they’re the worst thing that’s ever happened- parroting, with rage, common lies I’d seen for years and sprinkling in some brand new brain fungus, all like it was fact. The dude called Porrim, Porrim fucking Maryam, an MRA. Porrim fucking Maryam was reduced down to a whiny Men’s Rights Activist who didn’t know shit, and Kankri Vantas was correct about everything, suddenly. Horuss’s main problem was that he was a mockery of Otherkin people. Otherkin people! As if the fact that he’s a mockery of Systems is less important!! The reason for this is clear- that motherfucker, and every god damn other person making essays about how the Alpha Trolls are The Worst in the whole ass 2020s, have not actually read or played through the Alpha Troll segments for shit. They have no go damn clue what they’re talking about, and they don’t care. They don’t care about being right, or making good points and observations, they care about being mad and getting engagement. It is literally completely performative.

It completely ruined the entire essay. And for what? And for fucking what? The Alpha Trolls are, for the most part, wholly irrelevant to the story, sans Aranea and Meenah. You can skip over them and miss nothing. They are not “the worst Homestuck has to offer”, they are a skippable fucking footnote, and everyone needs to get a god damn grip. Holy shit.

At this point, it really feels like most of the anger and hatred is only still parroted around blindly because it’s just tradition at this point. No one knows what they’re talking about, and no one cares. Why would they? This is what gets them the little guaranteed dopamine rush of other idiots just looking to be angry agreeing with them blindly, just for the sake of being really mad at something that doesn’t matter and no one will face check. God damn. Grow some eyes and read the comic you’re criticizing before criticizing it. Grow a damn spine and get your own opinions. This is not hard.

The Alpha Trolls are rife with things worth criticism. No one is talking about any of them, because no one cares to actually read it and gather an insightful, meaningful opinion on them from literal direct observation and analysis. They just care about being mad, and saying something very outrageous confidently enough that they seem right. It’s not that they don’t have anything worth criticizing, it’s that almost everything people are criticizing them for either doesn’t matter, is wrong, or is a lie.

#homestuck #homestuck analysis #homestuck meta #alpha trolls #beforan trolls #dancestors #homestuck.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

94 notes · View notes

antianakin · 2 months

Text

So I have some further thoughts on Luke's behavior and attitude towards the Jedi in TLJ based on reading this post that's been going around recently that showed some comic panels discussing the public's views about the Jedi during the Prequels era. In it, it says that Palpatine is able to encourage hate towards the Jedi because, on some level, the public already hated the Jedi, equally as much as they loved them, because "It is hard to look at people who have become their best selves and the Jedi represent people who have already figured out how to be their best selves. It reminds you that you have not." The Jedi being good people naturally creates a COMPARISON between themselves and the people they've chosen to serve. Some people might choose to be inspired by that and rise to the challenge, but others choose to be defeated by that and fall more into despair. But those people don't want to ADMIT to defeat and so, instead, they blame the Jedi. They hate the Jedi. They accept the Jedi as scapegoats for their own failings.

This is a common pattern we see across the Prequels era, the Jedi becoming scapegoats for the galaxy's failures. They die because the Republic is corrupt, they die because ANAKIN is corrupt, and neither the Republic nor Anakin want to look at themselves honestly and do the work it takes to be better, so when Palpatine tells them that their struggles and failures are in fact the JEDI'S FAULT, it's so much easier to believe that than it is to accept the truth.

And it's hardly just the Republic that has this problem, Dooku does something similar with the Separatists, turning the Jedi into their personal villains, their children's boogeymen, who started this war with their own arrogance, so that they can keep on looking the other way as their army commits atrocity after atrocity in their name.

Those who try to remain neutral also tend to blame the Jedi for not putting an end to it, for fighting back at all, for not somehow miraculously managing to create a peace with the Separatists. Satine does it, the Lurmen do it, those little farmers on Felucia do it, Trace and Rafa Martez do it. It's so much easier to blame the Jedi for doing or being enough than it is to recognize that this war happened because EVERYONE ELSE was choosing to be selfish rather than work towards peace and all the Jedi can do in response is protect as many innocent civilians as they can until the people in charge ARE willing to put in the work to find peace. But instead of recognizing that complicated reality and unraveling the web that spells out that YOU ARE ALSO PART OF THE PROBLEM, it's so much easier to just blame the Jedi.

They became the galaxy's scapegoats, MOST ESPECIALLY during the Prequels era. It disappears more during the Rebellion era, probably because it's pretty hard to blame the galaxy's problems on a people everyone thinks has been wiped out already. And the rebellion itself seems to see the Jedi more positively, as a symbol of hope in a desperate war that they have no hope of winning without help. Obi-Wan and Luke represent that hope to a lot of people.

But then the Jedi are killed again and the only person left behind is Luke. Luke who fell prey to his own doubts, Luke who made a mistake that had disastrous consequences, Luke who feels guilty. And he cannot face the pain and the guilt and the fear he feels about what he believes he's done, the failure he now sees himself as, so he runs and he hides.

And he blames the Jedi. Like his father before him.

It's too painful to look at himself and acknowledge what he's done in order to let it go and move forward. It's too painful to face his own fears and doubts. So he doesn't. He tells himself the problem was in the way HE was taught, the problem was in the system itself, not the teacher. The problem came from the Jedi, not himself, never himself.

The Jedi become the scapegoats for their own destruction, yet again. The Jedi get blamed so a Skywalker can hide from the pain of his own failures, yet again.

And while Luke seems to barely know anything about the Jedi in the original trilogy, and what he does know seems to be generally positive, it's entirely possible he heard some of those whisperings about how the Jedi had been corrupt, how the Jedi had started the war in their arrogance, how the Jedi had maybe deserved what was done to them, how maybe the galaxy was better off without them. Maybe he heard rumors that the Jedi had taken children from their families, that the Jedi were incapable of love. And during his years in the rebellion, after meeting Obi-Wan and Yoda, he knows this to be untrue, he's heard plenty of legends about them as these great heroes that he believes more, but after his own failure, maybe those whispers come back to him and start to grow. Those whispers and rumors build a nice little shrubbery around the darkness he's allowing to fester in his heart, keeping him from having to ever look at it fully. What if those whispers had been right all along and HE'D been the one in the wrong to think that Obi-Wan and Yoda were the heroes of legend? What if the real mistake had been in trying to become a Jedi in the first place?

It's so so easy to blame the Jedi. So much easier than facing the truth. It might be Luke's first time doing it, but he becomes part of a long-standing tradition in the galaxy of letting the Jedi become scapegoats for their own failures. Of course he's wrong, the galaxy's always been wrong, that's how scapegoats WORK.

But isn't it so much easier to just blame the Jedi?

#star wars #luke skywalker #sequel trilogy #jedi #pro jedi #prequel trilogy

62 notes · View notes

thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 12 days

Note

Do you think Tom getting Hagrid expelled was probably the best thing to happen to him? Because, assuming the Chamber of Secrets fiasco never happened, Aragog would have got out of Hagrid's trunk and he would have killed someone eventually.

It was probably pretty clear to everyone that Hagrid didn't open the Chamber and Aragog didn't attack anyone, as why would a Acromantula petrify a bunch of students and kill only one without eating any of them? Hell, Acromantula's can't even petrify people, so Aragog's clearly not the culprit. But, they were just the covenient scapegoat to make it seem like they were doing something.

It must have been pretty easy to justify Hagird remaining on school grounds as gamekeeper since he was just the fall guy and to everyone else the real culprit must have either got cold-feet after Myrtle's death or got killed themself by whatever monster they were using since the attacks stopped after that.

But, without the Chamber opening, Aragog would have no doubt escaped sooner or later and would have made lunch out of some poor little first-year. If that happened, Hagrid would have probably ended up in Azkaban.

There's a lot to unpack here.

What I Think is the Going Theory By People

At first, it looked like a prank, a very terrifying and unsettling prank but a prank. Someone rights blood on the walls that The Chamber of Secrets is Open, Enemies of the Heir Beware. And just. What the fuck.

The prank continues to get worse as several students are petrified. However, there's a key thing there, they are petrified and not killed. Petrification is a terrible but very reversable process with no after effects going by what we see in canon. It's just a pain in the fucking ass and you better hope you have enough mandrakes on hand or else it'll take for fucking ever to order them all.

Because of that, while it is terrifying and harmful, it's not quite the same as say when Katie Bell was cursed by the amulet in HBP where she had to go to an intensive ward in the hospital for months.

It still I imagine for most people falls in the realm of 'really stupid, dangerous, awful, what the fuck prank that some pureblood idiot thinks is funny'.

I imagine there's increasing speeches of "please knock this the fuck off whoever is doing this" at dinner in the Great Hall from Dippet and him only getting blank stares in response as the vast majority of students is not the ones doing it.

I'm sure like in canon people outside Slytherin blamed the most Pureblood Slytherin they could find (like how Harry assumed it was Malfoy at first), Dumbledore blamed Tom because he always does/he knows Tom is the Heir of Slytherin in actuality and that there might very well be a Chamber of Secrets or even if there isn't Tom would sure use the mantle if he ever found out about it, and I have my thoughts for what the Slytherin's thought but that's another post for another day.

Then a girl dies and suddenly this isn't a prank. There's a period of panic when the school is considered being shut down by the board, maybe there really is a Chamber of Secrets, and then they find a likely culprit, Rubeus Hagrid who has an Acromantula wandering around the school and has a history of bringing in extremely dangerous creatures into the school.

The thing is, I think most people at the time, and even later (barring those we see in canon who for their own reasons do not believe this) think it was Hagrid and a no brainer.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and then shock of all shocks a student dies. True, while Acromantulas don't petrify, it's entirely possible that the petrifications/blood on the walls wasn't Hagrid and an unrelated stupid Pureblood prank. Added to this we don't seem to get much of a sense of forensic investigations/autopsies when it comes to wizarding world crimes (note that crime scene investigations is never really mentioned and there's only Aurors who come up whose job is just to catch dangerous Dark Wizards, not figure out what the hell happened at a place). So, I'm not sure that they could conclusively say what Myrtle had or had not died from/if they did an autopsy. For that matter, I don't know if it's common enough knowledge of what death by Acromantula looks like in a body after X hours have passed.

It's also not clear, I'm sure to most people given that Hagrid seems to be a pioneer of studying creatures, how Acromantula's feed and how they behave. Do we know that Acromantulas under threat don't poison their victims then scamper away? Do they always bite to feed? Since we know the spiders are sapient this has an extra layer of spice as well--humans certainly don't always kill to feed.

Which makes the defense of Hagrid of "but Acromantulas don't cause petrification!" or "An Acromantula would definitely eat that person it came across and never kill them in any other circumstance" very thin.

I imagine it depends who you ask but there's probably a few prevalent theories on how this all fits together:

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle, but the blood and the petrifications were an unrelated stupid prank and no one wants to stick their nose into it after a girl died. After Hagrid's arrested/the death, all of it stops anyway so let's not think about it.

Hagrid's spider killed Myrtle and Hagrid had prepared for this eventuality by writing blood on the walls and petrifying students via some other method left and right so that people would think it was a Pureblood Slytherin. Hagrid has notably had run-ins with Slytherins before (see Tom noting the werewolf cubs under the bed/presumably having clashes with Hagrid) and it's possible he already resented them and that this was a ploy to frame someone else for murder/the spider's activities.

Hagrid was innocent! Someone else unrelated used some other monster that then never struck again and was never seen again and was never found in fifty years since to kill Myrtle and petrify those students! Sure, Hagrid has a bad history of bringing in dangerous creatures, doesn't get along great with other students who keep narking on him, and has been quite isolated and admittedly resentful of Slytherins but he's innocent! Because he's a good person who'd never harm a fly! (Except that there's the possibility this was unwitting manslaughter because Hagrid was letting a spider roam the halls)

I don't think anyone thinks Hagrid's actually the Heir of Slytherin or that the Chamber of Secrets even really exists. There might be some, but they'd be considered very stupid.

He has a creature whose bite causes death wandering about the halls and either the petrifications/blood was an unrelated prank from someone who was very unfunny or else Hagrid did it to cover up for himself/out of gleeful preparation for when his spider finally did kill someone. I imagine it depends who you ask, some will think Hagrid only did the death, some will think he did the whole Chamber of Secrets thing as well.

I imagine several don't even believe the Chamber existed or was opened at all but that Hagrid was definitely 100% guilty.

That is, unless you're Dumbledore, in which case it was that fucker Tom Riddle and you know it, you know it in your bones, you can smell it in the air, you just can't fucking prove it. But one day, Tom. One day.

Was Hagrid a Scapegoat/Was it Clear He Didn't Do it?

Honestly, I don't think he was. I think they honestly and truly believed that he was the one responsible because of what's outlined above. Added to the fact that arresting him caused it all to stop when the spider disappeared... it's not a good look.

A scapegoat is one thing, but very important people's children all go to Hogwarts, and people like the Blacks, the Malfoys, so on and so forth don't want a scapegoat they want this stopped. If it was just Dippet appeasing them then I imagine there'd be a lot more pushback for investigation. I think the Board of Governors believes it was Hagrid as well as does the Wizengamot at large.

So, no, not a scapegoat, they 100% thought he did it.

Similarly, I think pretty much everyone except Dumbledore believed Hagrid was responsible. No, it wasn't obvious that Hagrid didn't do it (for much the reason it wasn't obvious to Harry and Ron after Riddle told them. Harry didn't want to believe Riddle, Hagrid's so nice, but it... tracks...)

The them getting killed themselves by the monster is... well... who is missing aside from Myrtle? And why would that stop the monster from rampaging? The spider's gone and we know it's gone so kind of makes sense that everything stopped when the spider's gone.

Was it Hard to Hire Hagrid?

I imagine it was actually quite difficult for Hagrid to be hired on as assistant groundskeeper. I think what saved him there was Dumbledore really going to bat with him for Dippet using the "this poor orphan boy with no prospects and I personally think he isn't responsible for reasons I can't get into because no one will ever believe me" and Dippet feeling sympathy and telling himself "okay, Hagrid had his wand snapped, he is an orphan with no prospects who will starve if we don't employ him here, and his supervisors can keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything".

I imagine a lot of the students and the Board of Governors were very leery of Hagrid being hired/in proximity of the students but some combination of Dippet and Dumbledore brushed that under the rug.

By the time we get to canon enough time has passed, enough has happened, that people have kind of forgotten about this as shown by it not being discussed until the Aurors arrive for Hagrid because "wow Hagrid, this is exactly like fifty years ago, you're still here, and we have you on record saying things like 'all Slytherins are evil at birth', are we doing this again, Hagrid?"

Would Hagrid Have Ended Up in Azkaban if the Spider Had Killed Someone?

Honestly, I don't think anything would have changed from what happened in canon. Because this is what people thought happened.

If there was no Chamber of Secrets debacle and this just randomly happened I think Dumbledore would still go to bat for Hagrid and get him the groundskeeping job (as it seems Dumbledore must have covered for Hagrid in the past). Dumbledore would probably blame Tom Riddle or else quietly admit it was probably Hagrid but Hagrid's just so sweet and it was clearly an accident.

Given that this is exactly what the Wizengamot/greater Wizarding World thought happened, I think Hagrid would be given the same punishment of expulsion and wand snapping, probably because it's manslaughter and he's a minor.

It was only when we went for round 2, fifty years later when Hagrid's an adult and it's looking very purposeful/not like manslaughter, that Hagrid got his stint in Azkaban.

And at this fucking point--

Well, @therealvinelle and I have an @rankheresy episode planned. I'll just leave it there.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #the chamber of secrets #rubeus hagrid #anti rubeus hagrid #meta #headcanon #opinion

42 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 year

Text

Never Thought

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Author’s note: IM A GODDAMN MACHINE also fic named after this song :D

Summary: You meet the Millers [3.5k]

Warnings: questionable Hollywood motives, Joel being vulnerable, the cutest goddamn found family, probably incorrect foster case/adoption timeline, talks of the foster care system, Tommy being a little shit, yearning idiots

Trouble in Paradise? Everything We Know About the Fight Between Everyone's Favorite Couple

Joel Miller Spotted Landing in LAX ALONE

Lucky Guitarist in Central Park Saw Joel Miller and Girlfriend Before Leaving Her in NYC: "They looked pretty in love when I saw them."

"Do you realize how bad this looks?!" Melanie asks as she paces behind her desk. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, fighting a headache, as she spirals. "Rumors are flying around that you guys had a massive argument backstage at the Tonight Show, and he left because he was pissed at you."

"That's not even close to what happened." You say, and she throws her arms up.

"Please, tell me what happened then because I've been fielding calls from major news outlets wanting to know what we have to say."

"His kid had an emergency. He went home early to take care of her. We didn't argue or have a falling out or anything like that. We actually had a really nice time."

"What kind of emergency?" She asks with a hawk-like determination in her eyes. Times like this make you realize that you never want to get on Melanie's bad side. When she's like this, she's absolutely lethal.

"I don't know." You shrug.

"You don't know?"

"It's not like we had a chance to talk about it! I did the interview, and by the time I was done, he was already on the way to the airport. He texted me that night to apologize and let me know that something was happening with his youngest."

"And it couldn't have been handled without him? If she needed her dad to come all the way home, she better have a fucking good reason."

"She's fourteen, Mel!" You snap, tired of hearing how much his leaving early affected her when something happened with his family. "Jesus Christ, she's a baby, and you're talking about her like she's an adult, which, even if she was, she has a right to call her dad for help," you say. She crosses her arms over her chest as she thinks, and you grab your bag from your chair. "I know these aren't the best circumstances, but I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you blame a child for a decision her father made." You wait for her to say more or argue with you, but she doesn't. You take a deep breath and reach for the door, more than ready to leave her and this conversation here.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about his kid?" She asks suddenly, and you turn to face her, your hand lingering on the doorknob. It feels like she's looking through you. Like she knows exactly what happened in New York but is waiting to see if you'll voluntarily come forward with it. "Wasn't a part of the contract to get involved with families." You shake your head and open the door.

"Then you shouldn't have paired me up with him." You say and leave her office. You're breathless by the time you get to your car. You've never left a conversation with Melanie like that, but you've also never heard her talk about a kid like that. It made your skin crawl to listen to her blame Ellie for just needing her dad. When the fuck did Hollywood get so ruthless that they have to use a fourteen-year-old as their scapegoat for something that's really not that big of a deal?

You're fuming the whole way back to your house, and the LA traffic doesn't do anything to settle the anger in your chest. It's been three days since you got home from New York, and communication with Joel has been sparse. He let you know that he and the girls were okay and apologized again for leaving so abruptly, but that's been the extent of your conversation. Which is fine. You have laundry to do and scripts to read through. You're fine to keep busy, but sleep is a little harder to manage.

You didn't realize that a couple nights sleeping in his arms would affect you so much. Now, every time you crawl into bed, the only thing you can think of is how big it is. Your dreams constantly replay your shared moments in New York, laughing together in the shower, walking hand-in-hand in Central Park, and the creases in the corners of his eyes. You didn't even realize that you were leaving space for a body that wasn't there until last night when you rolled into the cold space reserved for Joel and waited to hit his sleeping figure. For half a second, you considered getting a dog just so the house doesn't feel so empty.

You're folding laundry in your living room when your phone pings, interrupting the podcast you were listening to. You reach for it without a second thought, which you probably should've, considering you're still mad at Melanie, and see a text from Joel.

What are you doing tonight?

Joel Miller, you type. Are you trying to booty-call me?

Do you want me to booty-call you?

Maybe.

Well, I hate to disappoint, but I was gonna ask you to come visit the studio. I've got something I think you'll really like.

What's in it for me?

You leave your phone on the couch as you run upstairs to put your clean laundry away. You rush around your bedroom, stripping off the oversized, stained t-shirt you were wearing and putting on a vintage Talking Heads shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down stray flyaways and swiping a layer of mascara on before running back downstairs. You feel like a teenager getting ready to see the boy she likes, and something in the back of your head wants to be annoyed, but nothing can bat away the butterflies in your stomach. As you grab your purse and shoes, your phone lights up on the couch.

I've got a couple surprises up my sleeve.

Attachment: Location

You smile and tell him you're leaving now. His studio is in the heart of West Hollywood, and you have to stop at a security gate before you're allowed to park in the back next to Joel's car. Somewhere beyond the gates, a camera flashes as you enter the building and follow the studio numbers until you get to the one Joel told you he'd be in. You knock lightly on the door, trying to be polite, but someone on the other side rips the door open abruptly. A big laugh sounds from the other side, and suddenly you're face-to-face with a young man with long dark curls and big brown eyes.

"Oh, hi. I'm sorry, I'm looking for..." you trail off, glancing inside the studio until you make eye contact with Joel. He smiles and waves you in. "Him."

"Oh, you must be the girl Joel's been hidin' from us!" The man in front of you sends Joel a look as he opens the door wider to let you in, a similar twang peeking through his voice. When you fully step into the room, two girls are sitting on the couch across from Joel's chair at the soundboard, and you immediately recognize them as Sarah and Ellie. Sarah looks up and sends you a soft smile while Ellie stays focused on the rubber band she's wrapping around her fingers.

"Don't you go scarin' her! We wanna keep this one," Joel says as he stands and walks over to you. "This is my brother, Tommy. Don't pay him any mind." He says, and Tommy takes one of your hands in both of his and shakes it.

"Pleasure to meet you," Tommy says, and you smile, your brain finally catching you with the fact that you're meeting Joel's family.

"It's nice to meet you, too," you recover. "I didn't know all the Miller men were so handsome!"

"Oh, I like her,"

"Alright, that's enough," Joel scolds and you and Tommy laugh. Sarah stands and jostles Ellie as she does, making her misfire the rubber band at the soundboard, and Joel shoots her a look. She groans and stands beside Sarah, putting on a half-hearted smile. "And these are my daughters, Sarah and Ellie."

"It's really nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you guys."

"I wish we could say the same. This one," Sarah jerks her thumb in Joel's direction. "Is a master at dodging questions."

"Well, I love questions." You say.

You all settle once introductions are done, and you find yourself in awe of the dynamic the four of them have. Tommy and Joel are so at ease with each other, messing around and teasing one another, but still able to have conversations about the album art or release dates. Sarah and Ellie bombard you with questions, occasionally butting into their father and uncle's conversation to give their own opinions. And their questions are not the run-of-the-mill interview questions. No, their questions are deep, thought-provoking, unique questions that you enjoy teasing out with them. Joel was right about Sarah being a little bit more extroverted because she dominates a lot of the conversation, which you love and tell her as much.

"So many people are afraid to ask about things they're really passionate about, so it's cool to see you be so curious." You say, and a little blush takes over her cheeks.

"Thanks," she says. "I'm glad you don't think I talk too much."

"Not at all. I like hearing what you have to say." You say and watch as she fights a smile. You catch Joel's eyes watching over you and the girls, something flashing behind his irises, and you nod to let him know you're okay.

Ellie is a little quieter but really likes hearing about the more technical part of filming something. You tell her all you know about cameras and sound equipment, even promising to take her to set with you one day to show her everything because Lord knows the industry could use more women in production. Eventually, she feels comfortable enough to slump next to you in all her teenage posture, still fiddling with the rubber band.

"Want me to show you something?" You ask quietly, and she furrows her brows before nodding. You reach for the rubber band, which she reluctantly passes to you, and you slide down to copy her position on the couch. "So, the key to this is aim. Power isn't super important, but it's always a little bit more fun," you instruct as you slide the rubber band over your index finger and thumb. "So, what you want to do is lock onto your target, pull this back, and then let it go. Like this," You go over the steps slowly before aiming the rubber band at Joel's head and snapping back, sending it flying through the air until it hits him.

"Ow! The hell?" Joel screeches, and you and Ellie laugh.

"That was amazing!" Sarah giggles beside you, and you three dissolve into stupid, silly laughter. Tommy shakes his head and looks at Joel with a smile.

"You gonna let them do that to you?" He asks, and Joel takes a deep breath, taking in the sight of the three of you having the time of your life on the couch.

"'M outnumbered now."

"Sure are."

As the night progresses and you and the girls further slip into delirious giggles, you feel more and more comfortable with them. You're not sure what you thought would happen if and when you met them, but this is so easy and fun. Sarah tells you about the colleges she's applying to, and Ellie complains about her fingers hurting from trying to learn to play guitar. You advise Sarah about applications and even offer to read over some of her admissions essays, citing your BFA as your sole qualification. You're about to ask Ellie to play for you when Joel checks the time on his watch and slaps his hand over the watch's face.

"Alright, 's gettin' late, and you guys have school in the morning."

"But Dad!" Ellie protests, and he shakes his head.

"No buts. You gotta get some sleep. Uncle Tommy'll take you home."

"Dad doesn't like when I drive. Like at all," Sarah says, and you laugh.

"No, Dad doesn't like when you drive, and it's ten o'clock in the city with the world's worst drivers." He corrects, and she rolls her eyes. Despite their little arguing, both girls walk over to Joel and give him hugs and kisses before following Tommy out the door.

"Hey," He gets Joel's attention as he stands in the threshold of the door, and Joel raises his eyebrows at him. "You bring her round more often, you hear?"

"I'll make sure he does." You say, and Tommy smiles at you, winking before he finally leaves. The second the door closes, Joel gets up from his chair and walks over to where you're sitting.

"Hi," he says quietly as he leans over you and kisses you sweetly. You hum against his lips, and he collapses next to you, grabbing your legs and resting them on his lap.

"Thanks for the heads up, by the way. Are your parents here too, or is it just them?"

"Why? You wanna meet 'em?" He asks, and you slap his arm. "They really liked you."

"You think so?" You ask, and he nods, gently squeezing your ankle.

"I know so. I haven't heard Ellie laugh like that in a good while." He says, and you take a deep breath. His warm hands massage your skin, and the studio is completely still, and it feels just like it did in New York. The thought comforts something deep within you, and you reach out to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He still needs a haircut, you think to yourself.

"Is she okay?"

"She will be, yeah."

"What happened?" The question leaves you before you can stop, but he doesn't tense up or look panicky. He leans into your touch and focuses on the fraying hem of your jeans.

"She got in trouble at school. I still don't know the whole story 'cause she won't tell me, but she came home and took off on her bike. Tommy and Sarah drove around lookin' for her for bout an hour before they called me. They found her pretty soon after at a gas station, but it scared the shit outta me."

"Oh, my God. That's so scary."

"Yeah," he says. "I... didn't handle it in the best way. I grounded her for a month and took away her bike. We got into a big fight about it, and I hate fightin' with her," he sighs. Even though this was days ago, you can see how much it weighs on him still. You wonder if anyone ever panicked that much about how they treated you as a child. "I thought goin' back to Texas would've helped her, but it didn't."

"They were in Texas with you?" You ask, and he nods. Suddenly, the voices in the background of your phone calls and the spottiness of your conversations make sense.

"They went a week earlier and left a week after me to keep the press off them. They also just really missed their grandparents. Figured it'd be a good idea to get 'em outta LA for a while."

"Do their moms live in Texas too?" You get quiet as you ask about the women who brought Sarah and Ellie into the world. You may not know the whole story, but it also doesn't take a geneticist to figure out that Sarah and Ellie have different moms.

"No," he scoffs a laugh. "No, my parents are still in Texas, and Tommy lives there part-time, but that's really it."

"Where are their moms?"

"Sarah's mom left when she was a few months old. Divorced me and signed away her parental rights with the same pen. We haven't seen her since. I reach out to her folks every couple of years, but they never respond. They want nothing to do with either of us." He says, and your heart breaks for both of them. Sarah deserved to grow up with her mom, and Joel deserved to have a partner to help raise her, especially since he was so young.

"And Ellie's?"

"Never met her. Her name was Anna. The adoption agency told me she died a few hours after she gave birth. Left her a note but didn't have much else. No family, no husband, nothin'."

"Oh, I didn't know Ellie was adopted."

"It became official when she was twelve, but she's been with us since she was ten."

"Wow," you breathe, and he nods.

"Yeah," he says. "Sarah met her at school, and her foster home was just a shit hole, and she really just needed someone to take a chance on her. I still don't know why, but I got the paperwork filled out, and she was placed with us two months later. She's been with us ever since. That's also why I knew I had to come home when I heard she ran away. She used to do that to get away from her foster parents so they'd have an excuse to send her back."

"Did they?" You ask.

"Yeah. Six foster homes in two years."

"Jesus Christ."

"It's a lot. I know it is. That's why I didn't tell you bout them earlier. I didn't want to scare you off," he shrugs. "Plus, they're why I punched that photographer." He says like it's common knowledge, and you sit up. You remember Joel and Paul arguing about something when you walked into the room months ago, but you never asked about what. You also never asked him why he punched the pap because it didn't feel like your place.

"What?"

"The guy showed up at Ellie's school. He was tryin' to get pictures of her when the only thing she's done wrong is have my last name. He was yellin' things at me and asking me about her, and I just… snapped," he explains, shaking his head. "It's not right. I shouldn't have done it, but they're my girls. If I can't protect them, then I've got nothin'." You watch tears glisten in his eyes, and you push onto your knees to cup his face.

"You're a good dad, Joel. Possibly one of the best ones out there, okay? And you're not a criminal for losing your temper with your fourteen-year-old," you say. "Ellie's a teenager, and she's been through a lot. You all have. But those beautiful, intelligent, funny, amazing girls love you with everything that they are. I can see that, and I only spent a few hours with them today. They are good people because you're a good person," You stare into his eyes, hoping that the words will imprint in his brain, and he believes it as much as you do. You think Joel Miller could use someone believing in how good he can be. You think he needs it. You think he deserves it. "You are a good person." You whisper, and he takes a deep breath.

He rests his hands on your hips, and you move closer to him, resting your knees on either side of his hips and sitting in his lap. You kiss away the stray tears from his cheeks and feel him relax under your touch. You're sure that you'll need to tell him over and over again how good of a dad he is after so many years of just barely surviving, and you're okay with that. You'll tell him as many times as it takes him to believe it.

He catches your lips before you can get far and kisses you firmly like he's trying to show you everything he wants to say instead of speaking. He tastes like salt and cigarettes as he fiddles with the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against your stomach. There's nothing sexual about it. He just wants to be close to you, and you want the same. He traces patterns into your lower back, his hands splaying across your sides, and you bury your face in his neck. It's quiet and soft and almost domestic the way you two are cuddled into each other. As if you've been together for years, and this is how you greet each other after being away for so long. You inhale his scent and try to make out the shapes he's pressing into your skin.

"I wish I'd met you sooner." He says quietly, the words halfway lost in your hair. You kiss his jaw and squeeze him a little tighter.

"Me too," you mumble. "'M here now. I'm not going anywhere." And for once, instead of arguing or coming up with a reason to refuse to absorb what you're saying, he just nods.

"I know."

#rockstar!joel #rockstar!joel miller #one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #tlou fluff #the last of us au #tlou au #joel the last of us #joel miller x female reader #I love them your honor

210 notes · View notes