#he really thinks this is just one more cool thing he can do as the wol

[scuderiahalf]

wild child — daniel ricciardo

pairing. platonic!daniel ricciardo x verstappen!f1a driver!fem!reader

summary. your uncle has another thing coming if he thinks you’ll idly sit there and take whatever he throws at you. alternatively, the story of how jos verstappen got his shit rocked by a sixteen-year-old girl. 1.6k

warnings. description of injury, referenced physical violence, themes of domestic and child abuse, mention of jos verstappen

.

Daniel watched with a wary smile as you joked around with your Prema teammates across the way. Dino said something that had Ollie covering your ears while jokingly scolding the other boy. You elbowed Ollie in the side and pointed at Kimi, probably complaining that you were less than a year younger than the Italian.

You were acting completely normal. Everything seemed fine and normal and totally cool. You gave no hint that anything was out of the ordinary, that anything was wrong. You smiled just as you always did.

But Daniel couldn’t ignore the swelling of your cheek, the bruise under your eye, the split of your lip.

Prema’s statement about the state of your face had said that you had gotten into a physical altercation that you had not instigated and that the perpetrator had been dealt with as necessary. Daniel had a really bad feeling about who said perpetrator was.

The VCARB driver wet his lips. He had to say something. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t. You needed to know you had people you could go to. You needed to hear it spoken plainly. He needed to extend a hand, whether or not you took it.

This wasn’t something he could sit in regret with. Daniel already regretted never saying anything to Max, never asking the important questions back when Max had still been skinny and ruddy-faced.

Daniel still didn’t know the full story there. He’s sure if he did, he should never be allowed in a room with Jos Verstappen ever again.

Daniel hated to see history repeating itself. He hated seeing Jos look at you like he looked at Max, like you were some prized race horse purpose-bred to win. Like you could win the Formula One World Drivers’ Championship and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Daniel didn’t know everything about Max and his father but he knew how Max acted, knew how he thought of himself, knew how his childhood still affected him today.

Daniel didn’t want that for you. If he could help you in any way, he had to try.

He caught you in Red Bull hospitality later in the weekend, when you were separated from the other Prema kids and eating lunch while scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N/N!” he greeted you with false enthusiasm. “Can I sit with you?”

You just smiled amusedly. “Knock yourself out, Ric.”

You and Daniel had always gotten on.

Before you got serious about racing and moved to Holland to live with your uncle, Daniel had only heard mention of you as Max’s favorite cousin. Starting two years ago, you had been making more and more appearances in the paddock as your relocation to Europe had given Max easy access to take you on field trips to various Grand Prix.

You had been uncharacteristically funny for a fourteen-year-old. Not in a mean or sarcastic way but genuinely funny with jokes and stories always ready to go. Daniel had liked you from the first time you had met.

Now, you were sixteen and you looked so much older but when Daniel looked at you, all he could see was that scrawny fourteen-year-old kid who had to have ten kilos of lead welded to her seat to meet the karting weight requirement.

Every time he looked too hard at the cut on your lip or the persistent redness of your right cheek, he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt that funny, lovable little kid, or the young woman you were becoming who was still so full of life and humor.

“Daniel? You good? Do I have something on my face? Besides the obvious.”

Daniel forced out a laugh. “No. No, you’re fine. I was just wondering… How did you get that shiner?”

“Lost a fight with a revolving door. They’re vicious creatures, I tell ya.”

Daniel didn’t laugh. He barely managed a polite smile.

“Wow, tough crowd—yeah, it was Jos. I know that’s what you’re asking.”

You had always called your uncle that: Jos. Just Jos. Never Uncle Jos. Or Oom Jos, or however it would be said it in Dutch.

Your verbal detachment from your uncle didn’t make it any easier to stomach the thought of the man hitting you. Was this the first time? Had he done it before? How often? How severely? How had no one noticed?

“Y/N,” Daniel started, trying to approach the subject as gently as he originally planned, “You know you have so many people who care about you and would never want to see you kept in an unsafe environment? You have people you can turn to if you need help. Max, me, the people at Prema—“

“Did Max not tell you what happened? I figure he would have told you the story already. It’s pretty hilarious, in hindsight.”

What about this situation could ever be construed as hilarious? Daniel would admit he had a bad habit of making everything into a joke but this was a step too far, even for him.

“Y/N, I’m being serious. If Jos is hurting you, it has to be taken care of.”

“Believe me, I took care of it.”

Daniel just looked at you.

“Max really hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“So, I made that post about pride month on the first, right? Just ‘happy pride month’ in the caption of my insta post? Well, Jos decided that he wouldn’t have that under his roof and when I called him a ‘homophobic wife beater,’ he slapped me. Backhanded me, actually.”

Daniel was still failing to find even the slightest bit of humor in your story.

“So, I beat the shit out of him.”

Daniel blinked. “You what.”

“I beat the—I don’t know how else you want me to say it.”

“I’m not understanding…”

“He put his hands on me, so I rocked his shit. Kicked him in the dick. Slammed his face into the kitchen counter and broke his nose. Probably bruised a rib or two.

“He’s at home nursing his pride, I’m pretty sure. I’ve been staying with Max in Monaco ever since. It’s a real ‘you should see the other guy’ situation.”

Daniel thought he was having an aneurysm. His brain couldn’t decide if he should continue to insist that you could leave your unsafe home life or if he wanted to feed into the inarguably hilarious mental images of Jos Verstappen getting beat up by a sixteen-year-old girl.

The internal battle must have shown on his face because you said, “You can laugh. It’s pretty funny.”

No. No, he needed to be an adult and not feed into your interpretation of the events being funny. It wasn’t funny that Jos raised a hand to you. It wasn’t funny that you had to defend yourself from a grown man you were meant to be able to trust.

But then Daniel couldn’t stop imagining a semi-cartoonish version of your uncle curled on the ground, blood pouring from his nose as you stand above him, laughing maniacally with a foot on Jos’ side like a big game hunter.

“It’s not funny,” he barely managed to get out before he started laughing along with the triumphant caricature of you in his mind.

The you that sat across from him grinned. “No, it is 100% funny. He obviously didn’t know anything about me whatsoever if he thought I’d just let him get away with that. He started that fight, and I ended it.”

Daniel just laughed harder. You grinned even wider.

“No—it’s not funny! I swear, it’s really not.” Daniel collected himself as best he could, tried to look at you seriously. “Y/N, you can’t keep living with him. He can’t keep managing you.”

“I know. Prema’s already worked it out. They’ve found me a new manager and I’m staying with Max; he’s helping set me up in an apartment in his building.

“My mom is furious. She had to be escorted out of the hospital when she flew in to talk to Jos. She might have broken his nose a second time. I don’t know. I wasn’t there, unfortunately. Jos isn’t allowed within a hundred meters of me until I’m 18.”

That guilty, worried part of Daniel that had started festering as soon as he had read Prema’s statement about your altercation finally laid itself to rest. Everything was handled. You were safe.

“Y/N, I—“

Daniel didn’t really know how to put into words just how relieved he was. He didn’t know how to say how much he cared about you, how glad he was that you had gotten out of what could have been a terrible situation.

“I know.”

Luckily, you understood. Daniel didn’t have to stumble over the words. That was another thing about you that Daniel adored: you were intuitive.

“I’m talking through it with my therapist. But I’ll be fine. I feel fine. I’m not going to let Jos ruin me before my career’s even really started. I’ve still got a season of F1 Academy to win.”

Daniel had a feeling you were telling him this not because you needed someone to talk to but because you knew it was what he needed to hear. Relief settled even further onto his shoulders.

“Spoken like a true Verstappen,” he joked.

“My last name is L/N.”

“You still belong to the Verstappen clan.”

You giggled. “I hail from House Verstappen.”

“Exactly. Just like Game of Thrones.”

You fall into easy laughter alongside Daniel.

You were laughing. Your bruises would fade and you would remain unchanged. You would race later that day and continue leading your championship just as your cousin led his.

Ultimately, you were undamaged. You were safe.

And you also had one hell of a story to write a memoir about in thirty years.

[stylesharrys]

The Box | Part Two [Boxerry]

Y/N and Harry find themselves on the run from the same people that killed Sam, and Y/N isn't sure how much more of this she can take. 

A/N: this is the final part of the series, still mad that it wouldn’t let me post it as one big fic but it is what it is. I’m working super hard on some new things for you guys and I’m excited to share them when they’re ready… but I do have a couple more old exclusive pieces I might share first :) 

Warnings: (in no particular order) mentions of death/loss of a sibling and grandparent, mentions of miscarriage, unsupportive parents, swearing, brief descriptions of illegal fighting, money laundering, use of weapons, brief mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety, schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, smut; kissing, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, oral (both receiving/69)

WC: 14.8k 

//

“Y/N, you forgot to sign off on meds.” 

With a very tired sigh, Y/N huffs to herself. She’s been like this all day, messing up here and there, forgetting things she wouldn’t ever usually forget. But that’s what happens when Y/N gets in her head. She makes mistakes and finds it difficult to think straight. 

She wouldn’t have this problem if she didn’t sleep with Harry. If he didn’t sneak out while she slept like she had told him to. But alas, here she is, unable to think about anything else other than the dull ache between her thighs where she craves him the most. 

She probably wouldn’t be this pent up if they spoke about it — or spoke at all in general. But they haven’t, not really. In the last two days, they’ve shared a total of six texts between them, and she doesn’t even have to look at her phone to remind herself of what they say. 

Harry: I left while you were sleeping, thought it would be best that way x

Y/N: yeah, I get it x

Y/N: I won’t be able to come to the club until Wednesday if that’s ok. Working late the next two days

Harry: no stress, come whenever u can x

Y/N: just to make you aware, Mary has started new medication for her diabetes x

Harry: cool, thank you x

The small conversation had been spread over 48 hours and Y/N isn’t sure how to feel about that. Is that a hint that she should take? That he’s not interested in it happening again, even though they alluded to another time when they were together? 

It’s the unknown that’s had her so worked up today. So much so that even now, fixing her mistake on the medication sheet, she somehow almost signs the wrong name off. 

Handing the pen back to Cynthia, Y/N finally grabs her bag and zips up her jacket to leave work. She doesn’t waste a second before opening the door and allowing the biting chill of the night's air to nip at the skin of her face. 

The idea of a steaming hot bath and a glass of white wine sits heavy in her mind as she makes for the car park, tries to think of the best way she can take her mind off Harry this evening. 

She supposes she could catch up with one of her shows, maybe even start the book she bought last week and still hasn’t got round to opening. 

A book, bath and a glass of wine is what she decides on — she might even be cheeky and order food in or pick something up on the way home. 

It’s only a few more steps to her car when she hears an engine turn on a few spaces from her. Headlights light up the dark, illuminating her way slightly and she squints. 

The late shift ended two hours ago and no one else is finishing or starting shift at this time of the night. She wonders if it’s just someone who lives locally that’s using their parking lot, but the harder she looks, the more unnerved she feels. 

Y/N recognises the three faces in the car — two in the front and one in the back. She remembers their intense gazes from the pub just a few nights ago; where Harry got extremely uptight about their presence — and now, they’re here, outside of her work, staring at her. 

That familiar feeling of fear settles heavy in her stomach and as if out of impulse, she begins to slow her speed and sifts through her purse, appearing as though she’s searching for her keys. 

She stops then, subtly pulls her phone out and turns around back toward the building of the care home, like she’s lost what she’s looking for. It’s when her back is completely toward the car and her feet slowly carry her back to the front door to not appear spooked, she’s dialling Harry’s number and bringing the phone to her ear. 

It only rings once and then he answers. 

“Hey,” his voice is light, happy. “I was just about to call you.” 

“Harry, I need you to pick me up from work.” The panic in her voice stirs something worrisome in Harry’s gut and his once airy tone is diminished. 

“Okay, I’m coming. What’s wrong, Penny? Are you okay?” 

“Those guys from the pub the other night are here. They’re in a car right by mine and I’m scared. I don’t know what to fucking do!” 

He’s swallowing down the bile that crawls up his throat, grabbing his keys from the table in the office as he stands. 

“Are you in your car?”

“No, I was walking out of work when I noticed them.”

“Go back inside and meet me out the back. Do not leave the building until I text you.”

“Can you please stay on the phone with me?” 

His heart clenches, hands balling into fists. He doesn’t say anything to anyone as he leaves the club, only a few of the guys training in the space. 

“Yeah, just keep talking to me. How many guys are in the car?” 

Y/N hears him start up his engine as she re-enters the building and rushes through the halls. “Three.” 

Harry doesn’t have to ask what they look like to know who they are. The anger that consumes him begins to shake his body, red slowly blurring his vision and he hasn’t driven this fast since the night of Sammy’s death. 

“Harry, who are they? Why did you get spooked at the pub when you saw them and why the fuck are they waiting outside my work?” 

He doesn’t answer her. “I’ll be two minutes, just stay inside.” 

She doesn’t like the way he dismisses her question, how she’s being left in the dark, purposefully. That fear begins to ache in her fingertips, heart racing against her ribcage and those familiar signs of a panic attack begin to make themselves apparent. 

“Har… I can’t breathe. I’m freaking the fuck out.” 

“Don’t,” he tells her, voice stern. “I’m coming around the corner. It’s gonna be fine…. I’m outside.” 

She pushes through the back door quickly, eyes frantically searching for his Chevy when she finally spots his headlights. Harry flashes them at her, leaning over to open the passenger door and Y/N’s quick to get inside and lock it shut behind her. 

The state she’s in makes Harry feel sick. Eyes like a deer in headlights, fear prominent in every feature. She turns to him with a wild look, swallowing thickly. 

Harry reaches for her hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze before reversing out of the narrow road and turning back around. 

“What the fuck is going on?” 

He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, ignoring her question until she calls his name again, much sterner this time. 

“Tell me what is going on.” 

He looks at her briefly, dragging his eyes back to the road again. This is not how he wanted it to go. He didn’t want her caught up in this mess and he didn’t want to have to be the one to explain Sammy’s death. Much less under these circumstances. 

“I’m going to take you back to my place and I’ll explain everything there, okay?” 

Y/N shakes her head profusely, tearing her hand from Harry’s hold as the panic refuses to subside. 

“No, that’s not okay. Harry, I can’t—“

“Penny! Stop. Do you trust me?” 

She blinks at him. “What?” 

“Do you trust me?” he repeats, accentuating every word. 

It’s not something she needs to think about. Maybe it’s a bit crazy, a bit premature, but she does trust him. With her life. 

She nods her head once. “I trust you.” 

Her words sit a little heavy in Harry’s chest. She trusts him. The confirmation of it doesn’t relax him like he thought it would. Because Sam trusted him, and Harry was too late. 

He’ll be damned if history repeats itself. 

“Then trust when I say I’ll explain everything when we get home. You’re safe with me, and I need you to calm down.” 

He knows it’s easier said than done but when he doesn’t hear Y/N complain, and he feels her relax into her seat the best she can, that heaviness sits a little lighter. 

“Okay.” 

The usual forty minute drive to Harry’s apartment takes just under twenty minutes. The roads are clear and Harry’s not ashamed to admit he stepped on the gas a little harder than usual. 

To him, this isn’t a time to take a leisurely drive and admire the night's view. Because if this is anything like before, it’s life or death and Harry won’t allow the latter. 

His flat is on the third floor of a fairly large complex. It’s stealth-like, how he guides her through the halls and into his flat. She takes it in for a few seconds. Clean, tidy, minimal. 

Like he can up and leave at any given moment if necessary. 

Harry throws his keys on the coffee table and rushes to the window, closing the blinds before wandering to the kitchen to do the same. A frown sits heavy between his brows and there’s something a bit erratic about him. 

The composure she had just moments before is quickly dwindling and soon enough, she’s back to panicking again. 

“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on now?” 

Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, hands on his hips as he looks at her. Neither of them really take into consideration that this is the first time they’ve seen each other since they slept together. 

And now is not a time to bring it up either. 

Harry huffs. “Look, those guys are bad news. Mentally fucking insane, okay? They had it out for Sam and now they’re after you.” 

Y/N stares at him, blinking her eyes wide. “Excuse me?” 

He doesn’t want to tell her, can't stomach the idea of it, but Harry knows he doesn’t have a choice. He can’t keep her in the dark about her brother forever. And now that the same people are after her, she deserves to know the truth. 

“Sam wasn’t always this great guy, Penny. He had a dark side and they were a part of it.” 

The mention of her late brother makes her heart twist. Her chest begins to rattle as she tries to take in his words. To understand what he’s trying to get at. 

“What are you trying to say?” She poses the question carefully, not wanting to read the situation wrong. 

A look of softness flashes across Harry’s face as he takes a step closer. “Sammy’s death wasn’t an accident,” he begins, “Those guys ran him off the road and killed him.”

It’s all too much and everything starts caving in on her. Y/N can hardly breathe, can barely even see. There’s a drumming in her head that deafens her, a haze in her eyes that blinds her. 

Her brother didn’t pass away. He was taken — his soul torn from his body before he was ready to go, and Y/N can’t stomach that. Can’t handle the truth of what Harry’s told her. 

How is she supposed to live her life now? Knowing her brother was murdered. Knowing they are the reason for it. 

“Why?” she cries through laboured breaths. 

“Sam owed them money.”

“How much?” 

There’s a pause, and then… “Thirty grand.” 

She’s completely exasperated, struggling to comprehend anything he’s saying. Was thirty grand really worth his life? 

“He was late in paying them,” Harry continues. “We had Feds on our backs watching the club and all of our transactions, we couldn’t risk it.” 

Y/N looks at him, brows pinched tightly as she struggles to see through the onslaught of tears. “So he just refused?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No, not at first. But then they uh… they went after this girl he’d been seeing—“

“—Amira?”

Harry nods. “They tried scaring her, to give Sam a message. They roughed her up — Penny…” he pauses, like he’s preparing himself to say what he needs to, and just when Y/N thinks it couldn’t get worse, it does, “She was pregnant. And she lost the baby because of it.” 

Harry doesn’t give her time to properly process his words, figures it’ll be best to rip most of the bandaid off at once rather than in small increments. 

“Sam lost his shit, told them that they’ll never see their money and that he was after them. One night, they showed up at the club and all Hell broke loose. They ran, we followed — Sam in one car and me in another.” 

The way his voice begins to dwindle with every passing word makes Y/N’s stomach sink. Like she knows what he’s leading up to, that he’s about to divulge the traumatic truth of her brother's death. 

She doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to hear what will haunt her for the rest of her life. But her heart needs the truth — needs to understand what happened to him, needs revenge. 

“Sam was always a better driver; faster,” he croaks, and he falls silent for a second or two until he speaks again with a broken voice. “I heard the sound the same time I turned the corner — his car had flipped and was wrapped around a telephone pole. And they were gone.” 

Her heart is in her stomach, a numbing pain searing through her veins. Pain for Amira and their baby, pain for Sam, pain for herself. But with the pain comes anger. Anger toward the men that killed him. Anger toward the fact that Harry’s always had this knowledge of Sam’s death and didn’t say anything until now, when he felt he had to. 

“You’ve known this whole time.”

There’s little to no emotion in her voice, and the blank expression in her eyes begins to unnerve Harry slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you just weren't going to tell me at all?” 

Harry’s growing frustrated but he knows he has no right. He kept this secret from her, he chose to protect her from the truth and is only now realising the consequences of that decision. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “You can hate me all you want but right now, we need to get out of here.” 

A slither of confusion cracks through that empty facade as she takes in the desperation of his voice. Like she’s only now just remembering the severity of the situation they’re in. 

“What?” 

“It’s a matter of time before they check your place, check mine and then riot the club. They didn’t just stop after Sam. They’re trying to take over The Box and that includes getting rid of you and I.”

That all consuming panic is quick to surge through her body, chest rising and falling rapidly as the anger subsides to fear. 

“So… so we need to leave town.” 

He nods slowly at her shaky words, allowing her to take the lead as much as she can so she doesn't feel forced. Y/N scratches at her forehead, keeps her eyes on the ground below her. 

“Okay. Uh… I take it we can’t go back to my place. Can I, like, borrow some clothes or something?” 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes. “I’ll pack a bag now, you should probably call work, tell them there’s a family emergency and you won’t be in for a few days.” 

He leaves her for a few minutes, rushing off to pack a bag in his bedroom. Y/N’s fumbling to type a text to her manager, struggles to keep the tears at bay. 

It’s all too much. It’s one thing to find out her brother was murdered, but to hear the same people that killed him are after her and Harry now? She feels like she can’t breathe. 

//

“Hi, d’you have any more rooms available for the night?” 

He’s softly tapping his finger on the reception desk, eyes on Y/N as he speaks and she’s full of the jitters. 

Harry sped their way to the next town over, pulling into the first motel they came across. She was silent for the majority of the drive, too in her head to offer a coherent conversation but Harry understood, so he didn’t press it. 

And she’s the same now, curled into herself as Harry hands over enough cash to pay for their room for tonight, and lugs the bags in his hands with the room key, making toward the elevator. 

“I’m sorry I kept the truth from you, I didn’t want to taint your memories of him.” He breaks the silence as the door closes and they’re carried higher through the building. 

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

It’s quiet but he hears her, loud and clear. Harry hates that he’s made her feel this way – that he’s gotten her mixed up in this shitshow. He’s guilty, blames himself for everything that happened to Sam, everything that’s now happening to her.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks out. 

He looks down at her, brows pinched as she gazes up at him through fluttering lashes and hooded eyes, “What for?” 

“None of this is your fault, I know you were only trying to protect me from the truth. Don’t do that again.” 

Harry nods curtly as the doors open and he leads them down the hall in search of their room for the night. He unlocks it, flicks on the lights and lets Y/N walk through first. 

It’s nothing special, just a standard cheap hotel room, but what does catch Y/N’s eye is the bed. Just the one. And she’s reminded of the last time she saw him, when he was in her bedroom, fucking the life out of her. Despite the circumstances, she’s not opposed to sharing a bed – it might make her feel a little safer – but they’ve not discussed their previous meet-up and she doesn’t know what to make of it. 

Harry notices how her gaze stays fixated on the bed and heat rises to his cheeks. “I’ll take the sofa.”

Y/N turns to him, brows pinched. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not exactly strangers, Harry. We’ve literally had sex together — I think we’re past the formalities.” 

The bluntness of her words has Harry’s eyes widening. His lips part in shock at how brazen she appears about their hook-up. Harry had begun to think she regretted it, and that was why she didn’t bring it up. 

Clearly, he’s been sorely mistaken. He thinks. 

He clears his throat, forcing a cough. “Right.” 

He plants the bag on the sofa and retrieves a pair of boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, handing them both to Y/N. She takes them, guides herself to the bathroom and shuts the door. 

It takes Harry a few seconds to regulate his breathing — to get a grip on his emotions and the numbing fear that rattles his body. The whole ordeal is a bit too triggering for him — like he’s potentially going to relive his best friend's death through Y/N. 

He doesn’t know what scares him more. What could happen to her or the lengths he’ll go to to protect her. Either thought is too much to process, so instead he lets his mind wonder about the other situation at hand. 

She’s about to get into bed with him, wearing his clothes, after they hooked up a couple of days ago and are yet to discuss what the hell it means for them. 

And Harry’s aware that it’s definitely not an appropriate time to be thinking about it, but he is. Because he hasn’t been able to stop since it happened. 

He’s torn from his thoughts when the bathroom door opens and Y/N creeps into the bedroom. His heart is lodged in his throat at the sight. His clothes are too big for her and her legs look incredibly soft and smooth, the hem of his t-shirt barely covering her bum. 

“There’s a spare toothbrush on the side. Bathroom’s all yours.” 

There’s not much emotion in her voice now, and Harry can tell from her puffy eyes that she’s been crying behind that bathroom door. His heart cracks a little but he doesn’t say anything. 

Instead he uses the bathroom, strips into a pair of boxers (hoping Y/N won’t mind as he didn’t pack a whole lot of clothes), and brushes his teeth before joining her in the hotel room again. 

She’s under the covers now, only his bedside lamp on and Harry’s heart starts to thump. It’s been a while since he’s laid in bed with someone without something happening. 

Nevertheless, he crawls in beside her and flicks off the light. He keeps a respectable distance between them but still close enough to make out the shadows of her face. That’s when he hears it, the soft sniffles and shaky breath. 

A sigh escapes his lips as he shuffles closer with arms outstretched. He half expects her to push him away, tell him no, she’s still angry with him, but she doesn’t. She coddles herself into his chest instead and lets him hold her — comfort her. 

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Penny. I promise.”

And while she appreciates the reassuring words, it doesn’t do much to soothe her fear and anxiety. Nothing could make her feel safe right now — not even Harry’s warm and strong body keeping her close. Not completely safe, anyway. Not now that she knows the truth. 

What she thinks she needs is a distraction. Something to make her forget, even just for a short while. So it’s not really a surprise to her when she finds herself pulling out of Harry’s hold just enough to crane her neck up to look at him. 

He’s already gazing down at her, eyes as dark as the night. With softly puckered lips, Y/N leans up just enough to press a gentle kiss against his mouth. 

It surprises Harry, if he’s honest. He never would’ve taken her for someone to initiate things first, but he has to remind himself that she’s the type of girl to go after what she wants, and she was the one to initiate things last time. 

He kisses her back just as softly, lips moulding to hers as they both lay on their sides, Y/N lifting her leg to wrap it around Harry’s waist. 

It’s a bold hint that Harry gets, and he pulls away slowly to get a look at her, to search for a single shred of doubt or hesitation. When he falls short, he noses at her temple. 

“It’s probably not a good idea tonight,” he breathes, trying desperately to ignore the way his cock lunges. “Your emotions are really heightened right now. I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.” 

She shakes her head. “I won’t. I didn’t regret it last time,” she tells him, “I just need to forget for a little while.”

Harry swallows thickly. So she doesn’t regret it. And she wants it to happen again, right now, to forget. 

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t have anything — I don’t have a condom with me.” 

Y/N blinks, lips parting. The idea of not using one does cross both of their minds but they’re smarter than that. 

Her hand reaches between their bodies, fingertips grazing across the throbbing length of Harry’s hard cock beneath his boxers. 

“We can do other stuff, can’t we?” 

Her voice is a sensual whisper and it makes his head spin. She’s compelling, everything about her. So he’s not very shocked when he finds himself nodding his head and leaning down to greet her in a kiss again. 

Y/N palms at his clothed cock, hips gently rocking as she tries to get closer. This is what she needs. Him. Anything he’ll give her to make her forget what life is like right now — what she’s running from. 

Harry’s hand cups the side of her jaw, kissing her a little harder. Her spare hand reaches for his wrist to move it away, guides it down their bodies and between her legs until he’s cupping her aching heat through (his) boxers. 

“Are you sure?” 

She squeezes his cock, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his underwear. “Touch me, Har. Need it so bad.” 

He swallows thickly, palming at her heat as a shuddered moan slips from her lips and into his mouth. She wraps her cool fingers around his shift, a hiss sounding from the back of his throat. 

“Need to forget everything, H. Just want you.” 

The neediness in her voice sends him spiralling, latching his mouth to hers with as much force as he can muster. The kiss is messy, dirty — all tongue and teeth and Y/N thinks it’s the hottest thing she’s ever experienced. 

Her hand begins to bob on his cock, long strokes and as she reaches his tip, small beads of precum coat her fingers, smearing across his length. He seethes, a hum soon following as he tries to stay quiet. 

But Y/N doesn’t want him to be quiet. She wants to hear him, how she’s making him feel. 

She pumps a little faster, grip a little tighter. Harry’s sneaking his fingers into the boxers she’s wearing, swirling his fingers between her folds and she’s soaked — almost dripping, really. 

“Jesus Christ, Penny. You’re fucking soaked.” 

She moans into his mouth, bucking her hips against his hand. “I told you not to call me that,” she pants. 

“M’sorry, baby.”

She nods against the kiss. “Yeah, that’s better.”

A breathily laugh escapes Harry’s mouth, his finger prodding at her fluttering hole. She’s eager for him, desperate. Just wants to feel full of him — of whatever he can give her. 

He continues to tease her, thumb on her clit while she lazily tugs at his cock. It’s not enough for her, the gentle touches, she wants her brain turned to mush so she has no choice but to not think. 

Maybe that’s why she shuffles her position beside him until she’s kneeling by his hips and tugging his cock free from the confinements of his boxers.

Harry watches with hooded eyes as she leans down to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to his leaking tip. His head falls back against the pillows, chest rising and falling rapidly as she works her warm mouth on his cock. 

He keeps his hand between her thighs, fingers pinching delicately at her puffy clit, a little too fucked on the feeling of her moaning around him. 

Y/N licks messily from the base to the head, swirling her tongue across his slit before taking him into her mouth. She doesn’t mess about with it, takes as much as she can at once and lets him hit at the back of her throat. 

A gruff moan escapes Harry’s lips as she gags around him, spluttering profusely as strings of saliva dribble from the corners of her mouth. 

He reaches his spare hand down for her head, tugging at the roots of her hair to get her attention. “Turn around,” he breathes heavily. 

She pulls off him, brows pinched. “What?” 

“I wanna taste you at the same time,” he gulps. “Turn around.” 

His hand leaves her head, reaching for the boxers on her waist to tug them down while the other continues its assault on her dripping cunt. He relents for a moment to tug the underwear down her thighs and past her ankles, throwing them across the room and helping situate her above his face. 

She lets out a squeak at his eagerness, nose bumping the tip of his cock but Harry doesn’t care. Her cunt hovers over him, soaked and puffy and a quiet moan slips from his lips at the sight.

With his hands on her hips, he eases her down to latch his mouth around her cunt, slurping at her wetness as he’s finally awarded a taste of her. And he’s hooked. Completely fucked out. She’s sweeter than anything he’s ever had before and he’ll be devastated if she never allows him a taste again. 

Y/N covers him with her mouth, suckling as much as she can fit and bobbing her head with every stroke her tongue offers to the underside of his cock. They’re both messy and sloppy with their actions, eager and desperate for a release.

The hotel room will no doubt stink of sex for days after, but neither of them care. They can barely think straight as it is. 

Harry can’t get over the taste of her, wants it staining his tongue for the rest of his life. He reaches a finger down to probe at her hole, pushing in with ease as she clenches around him. 

Y/N lets out a muffled moan around his cock, the sound sending vibrations through Harry’s body which makes him twitch against her tongue. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he mumbles against her cunt, finger curling before he adds a second one and fucks them into her. 

Her thighs are trembling from the sides of his head, locking him in slightly to stop him trying to move away. Y/N takes him deeper into her mouth, relaxing her jaw and Harry takes the hint to start bucking his hips into her. 

It’s filthy, the noises she makes, the way his cock jabs at the back of her throat. Her pussy grips his fingers like a vice, walls fluttering and he knows she’s close. With his spare hand, Harry strikes a smack to her ass, pawing at the fleshy skin before spanking her again. 

She’s positively dripping into his mouth, her body so worked up that she can barely keep consciousness. Her eyes are stinging with tears as he thrusts harsher, effectively restricting her air supply as he does so. 

But she’s never been so turned on in her life. Sixty-nine-ing with Harry in the pitch dark. 

“Fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come.” 

He expects her to pull off him, but she doesn’t. Instead, Y/N forces her mouth further down and sucks, hand reaching between his thighs to massage his balls. 

He’s crying out her name as he releases, spurts of warm come shooting down her throat as her own orgasm rakes through her body. 

Harry laps it up the best he can, cock still buried down her throat as she comes around his fingers and drips into his mouth. She’s begging for him, whining his name as he removes his fingers and sucks them dry. 

She can feel him soften against her tongue, and with as much energy as she can muster up, she pulls off him with a heavy breath. 

“Y’okay?” 

She hums, a little floaty if she’s honest but it worked. It made her forget and now all she wants to do is sleep. 

“Mhm, thank you.”

Harry grins tiredly to himself, helping her off his chest and to lay back beside him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and plants a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

“Let me get you some water.” 

Y/N watches him through bleary eyes as his cute, naked bum moves over to the desk across the room. He comes back, soft length still impressive, and hands the bottle to her with the cap undone. 

“Here, take a sip,” he guides the bottle to her lips and encourages her to drink before taking a swig for himself. 

Harry climbs into the bed beside her, arms outstretched and she’s quick to nuzzle into his hold. He strokes the hair from her face, keeping her close. 

“Get some sleep. I promise I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

//

Rustling from outside the hotel room is what stirs Harry awake. He’s groggy as he blinks away the sleep, arms aching from Y/N’s head as she lays cuddled up to his chest.

His heart swells for a moment at the sight of her — and then he hears it again, the noise. There’s whispers and footsteps padding outside the door, three voices.

He’s careful when he stands, not wanting to wake Y/N if he’s just overreacting. But when he levels his eyes with the peephole of the door, his flight or fight kicks in and his heart thumps in his ears.

Harry pulls away from the peephole quickly, back against the door as he tries to remain as silent as humanly possible. Y/N stirs in the bed, reaching out for him but he’s not there to cuddle again.

Her eyes flutter open, brows furrowed as she slowly lifts her head from the pillow in search of him. That’s where she spots him, against the door with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Her mouth opens to speak, but she quickly shuts it when Harry brings a finger to his lips, signalling her to stay quiet. Her heart begins to thump again, bile in her throat and she’s frozen on the bed, sheets clutched close to her naked body.

“Let’s try upstairs,” he hears Ryce say, “They’re not on this floor.”

Harry waits a moment before turning his body to peek through the peephole again. They’re slowly sauntering off down the hall, clicking the button for the elevator and stepping inside shortly after. He turns back to Y/N, chest heaving and eyes wide.

“Penny, get dressed. We need to leave, now.”

It’s a rush, to get dressed and throw everything haphazardly into Harry’s backpack. Their hearts patter wildly, breathing ragged as fear consumes the pair of them.

It’s frantic, how he looks at her, keeping her behind his back as he slowly opens the door to peek his head out. He scans the hall, straining his ears for any sound of movement and when he falls short, he very quickly and quietly tugs her out of the hotel room.

Harry leads them to the staircase, trainers skidding across the linoleum floors with every step they jump down.

“They found us, didn’t they?” she asks through laboured breaths.

He doesn’t reply, instead tightens his hold on her hand and forces her to move quicker, taking three steps at a time instead of two and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.

Harry pushes through the door of the stairs, not slowing as they race through reception and out into the cool air of the early morning. It’s then that they break into a sprint across the parking lot to reach Harry’s Chevy.

Then they hear footsteps, the door of the hotel building slamming shut. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of the three lunatics that are after them.

They’re slowly approaching, picking up their pace as Harry and Y/N get closer to the car. He unlocks it from a distance and throws the backpack to Y/N.

He turns to her, finger pointing in her face. “Lock yourself in the car. If they get the upper hand, you drive and you don’t look back.”

The look on his face scares her, rattles her to her core. She tries to shake her head but Harry’s shoving the keys in the palm of her hand and pushing her closer to the vehicle.

The three of them grab him at once; Ryce and Scott holding him by the arms and shoulders as the bigger man, George, throws punches against his stomach. The sight of it makes her sick, has her knees buckling and heart aching.

Nimble fingers struggle to open the car, brain fuzzy as she rushes to throw the bags in the back seats. Y/N shuts the door behind her, locking the car again as her chest rises and falls with every shaky break she takes.

It’s torture, watching as they beat him – the way they pin his arms back and take advantage of his inability to fight back. He takes every hit and punch like a man, doesn’t allow his guard to falter no matter how hard the strikes may hurt.

And it’s like they see that, too. Like they notice it’ll take a lot more than a few blows to ruin him. Maybe that’s why George relents his assault for a moment and fixes his gaze to the car – to Y/N, cowering in the backseats like a lamb ready for slaughter.

And it’s when he slowly begins to stalk toward her that Harry’s heart begins to thump a little too hard. It’s when George starts to bash his hands against the backseat window that he starts to burn a fueling fire of rage.

He struggles against the hold that Scott and Ryce have over him, unable to tear his arms out of reach. Until he hears her scream and the backseat window smashing.

Y/N can’t breathe, heart lodged in her throat and tears stinging at her vision. She watches completely frozen as George reaches his hand in and unlocks the door. Watches the sadistic smirk that plasters across his lips as he opens the door and reaches for her ankles.

“No! Get off of me!”

Her screams are futile, her body breaking into hysterical movements. Her legs kick harshly at his grabbing hands, her foot striking his throat which allows her barely a few seconds to search for something, anything.

Y/N’s eyes avert to the footwell of the passenger's seat when she sees it. A crowbar. Her fingers wrap around the metal at the same time George’s wrap around her ankles. She’s pulled from the backseats, back crashing onto the concrete of the parking lot. And in one swift motion, her arm swings forward and the curve of the bar wraps around the side of George’s head.

In an instant, his heavy build falls off her – collapsing onto his side. She waits for a beat, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of life. There’s no blood, no sound. Tentatively and with trembling hands, she leans closer to his still body and poises her fingers beneath his nose.

One breath. Two, three.

She clambers away from him with a deep breath, unsteady as she rises to her feet. She’s allowed no time to process the situation, to calm herself. Because right before her eyes, Harry is fighting for his freedom.

This time, Ryce has Harry’s arms pinned behind his back, looping with his own and Scott delivers much harder blows to Harry’s face and torso. His legs kick out, arms thrashing in Ryce’s hold but it doesn’t do much damage.

Tightening her grasp around the crowbar, Y/N doesn’t quite know what comes over her. Whether it’s fear, anger or something entirely different. Whatever it is, compels her to swing the crowbar across the backs of Ryce’s legs – the shock and force of the blow buckling his knees just enough for his hold on Harry to relent.

Y/N doesn’t give him time to turn before she jumps onto his back with her legs around his waist and the crowbar wrapped around his throat. Her body moulds to his like a bear hug, an unknown strength unleashing itself in a desperate attempt to keep him from Harry just long enough to regain his strength.

And Harry doesn’t waste a moment of the opportunity. His fist beats against Scott’s face in rhythmic blows until his body is on the ground and he can’t fight back. Harry’s knuckles stain with blood and grazes, delivering a final pinch to the bridge of Scott’s nose before climbing off his bruised body.

His chest heaves, every breath feeling as though it tears his lungs. Harry spits the build up of blood in his mouth on the floor, rolling his shoulders back and flexing his fingers before they return to their fisted state.

Ryce is red in the face, fingers wrapping around the crowbar that Y/N pulls against his throat. The anger in her face is starling to Harry, something he’s never seen before — not even in himself. A hatred so pure it could kill.

Harry approaches them quickly as Ryce throws back his elbow and it meets with the side of Y/N’s stomach. All at once, her hold on the crowbar and him falters and she’s sliding off his back and doubling over on the concrete.

Ryce throws a punch but Harry is quick to dodge, despite the fact he’s still attempting to catch his breath. Before he rises, he reaches for the crowbar and swings it against the side of Ryce’s body.

He seethes out in pain, struggles to stand straight to fight back. He messily throws his fist, easier for Harry to dodge this time and he returns it with another blow across his knees with the crowbar.

Harry throws it to the side, watching with heavy breaths as Ryce tries to steady himself again. Harry doesn’t give him the chance. He squares his fist against the side of his face and he pummels to the ground.

It’s silent for a moment, aside from Harry’s rapid breathing and Y/N’s soft whimpers as she clutches her stomach and steadies herself on her feet again.

Harry backs away from the mess they’ve created, guilt crawling up his throat as he turns to look at her. There’s a cold expression painted across her face, eyes void of anything other than a predatory gaze.

She’s got the look of someone who’s desperate to survive. That’s what this is now, sink or swim. And she knows it.

They don’t share any words, just a look. But that’s all that’s needed. That one look says everything. They’re in this together — it’s them against anyone who tries it.

It’s silent as they both get into the car, Harry picking his keys up from the floor before he starts the engine.

It’s silent when they pull out of the car park, the sound of the cold air whipping through the shattered window in the backseats.

It’s silent until Y/N finally speaks. “Where are we going?”

Harry waits a beat, eyes focussed on the road. He can’t bring himself to look at her, to be faced with her expressionless gaze again. So he looks forward, grips the wheel and clears his throat.

“To see an old friend.”

//

His body is beginning to hurt as he pulls into the familiar garage. It’s been a while since Harry’s been here and everything looks the exact same as it did last time.

He kills the engine, lets his hands slip from the wheel and he finally turns to Y/N, who’s already looking at him. She takes him in, properly. The cuts and bruises that begin to form on his soft skin, the bags that protrude under his eyes from lack of sleep and a couple of punches he caught.

It hurts her heart to no end. She wishes none of this was happening.

“Are you okay?” he finally speaks, voice soft.

She nods, but they both know she’s not. Not really.

“Are you?”

He huffs out a small laugh and reaches for her hand that sits in her lap. “I’ve been better.”

She doesn’t understand it — how he always has the energy to try to make light out of any situation. Y/N looks away briefly, taking in the surroundings of the garage.

It’s like any other she’s been to. A few old cars spread across the place, some that are very clearly undrivable and others that she thinks probably only needed a quick fix.

Her brows pinch when she thinks about why they’re here. Is a blown back window really what’s important right now? She looks back to Harry with parted lips, but he already knows what she’s going to say.

“It’s my friend's garage. He’ll be able to help with more than just a smashed window.”

Y/N nods curtly, unsure if she’s understanding what he’s letting on. She also doesn’t have any suggestions as to what the fuck else they could do to help them out of this situation, so she puts all her trust in him and this unknown friend, and prays that her brother will keep them as safe as he can.

Her eyes look forward again, noticing a man and woman emerging from a wide door to the left. She looks back to Harry, a smile on his face as he opens the door and clambers out.

Y/N follows suit, shrinking into herself a little as the two unfamiliar faces grow closer.

“No call?” the man speaks loudly, arms across his chest.

Harry shrugs, walking closer. “No time.”

A smile breaks across the man’s face as he and Harry meet in a brotherly embrace. They’re squeezing tight, smacking each other’s backs until the man pulls away and gets a look at his friends face.

“Christ, H… did you even get a hit in?”

Harry smacks him in the chest and moves slightly to greet the woman. “Hey, Ashley. How’ve you been?”

She offers him a small hug and smiles. “Better than you it appears.”

Harry pulls away with a seemingly shy smile, turning back to Y/N who remains hovering by the Chevy. He points to her with an open palm. “Penny, this is Ashley and Jimmy. Guys, this is Y/N… Sammy’s sister.”

A heavy silence falls upon the shop – so quiet they’d be able to hear a pin drop. She offers a half wave, pursed lips and teary eyes. Harry is quick to make his way by her side again, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to offer some form of reassurance.

“Jimmy and Sam used to knock about together,” he tells her. “Jim’s actually the one that found the club and convinced Sammy to take it on.”

He offers a polite smile and wave but there’s nothing but pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss. Sam was a one-of-a-kind kid.”

She nods, doesn’t want to reminisce on her late brother. Not right now. Not after the morning they’ve had.

Harry clears his throat and scratches at the nape of his neck. “M’sorry to throw it on you guys, but d’you mind if we crash for the night? We’re in a bit of a mess right now.”

There’s no hesitation when both Jimmy and Ashley nod their heads. “Of course, stay as long as you need. Come on upstairs, I’m just about to fix up some lunch, you guys can get cleaned up.”

Harry follows them through the garage, hand on Y/N’s lower back to guide her through. She stays close to him, far too on edge to be as trusting as Harry. She has to remind herself that they were also Sammy’s friends. And he didn’t put his trust in just anybody.

“Thank you, I promise we’ll be out of your hair by morning.”

Their apartment above the garage is nice. It’s rustic and chic at the same time and Y/N finds herself drawn to the canvases that litter the walls in the hall and living room.

Jimmy seems to notice. “They’re Ash’s,” he says with a smile. “She’s a wicked artist.”

Y/N hums, a small smile painting its way on her own lips. She’s desperately trying to ignore the dull ache in the side of her stomach, tries to play it off like every breath isn’t hindering her in some small way.

They follow through to the kitchen, the same sort of vibe with a wooden kitchen island and black, steel stools. Harry guides her to take a seat and sits himself beside her, both watching Ash as she pours them each a cup of coffee.

“Did the Chevy take as much damage as you?”

Harry scoffs out a laugh and takes a sip of his drink. “Still as mouthy as ever,” he quips back. “But no, she’s just fine – apart from the back window. That got smashed to fuck.”

Y/N watches them back and forth, how they talk with such ease, like the past twelve hours didn’t happen. It has her head spinning, has her second-guessing that Harry isn’t taking this as seriously as he made her believe.

She stands abruptly from her stool, the steel screeching across the hardwood floors. All eyes fall on her and she gulps. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Ashley nods, pointing to the door just down the hall. Y/N mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’ before rushing off and pressing her back behind the locked door.

She just needs a moment. A moment to think and breathe. This is all way too much for her to handle right now and she’s never felt so alone in her entire life. It hurts her heart, her head – everything. Tears are stinging at her waterline, threatening to spill over but she wills them not to.

A small knock on the door is heard and then… “Penny? It’s me.”

Y/N swallows down her feelings and unlocks the door. Harry lets himself in; worrisome eyes and tender hands on her arms as he closes the door behind him.

“Y’okay? I know this is all probably scaring you.”

She stares at him blankly. “Scaring me? Harry, I’m fucking terrified and you’re out there laughing without a care in the world, having a catchup with an old friend, while I’m just silently freaking the fuck out.”

He coos her, pulls her into his chest and ignores the pain he feels as he holds her close. “M’sorry, m’just trying to forget about it all for a moment. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I swear.”

Her breathing is erratic against his chest, hands balling fists of his shirt on his back. Harry strokes the hair from her face and kisses her temple, shushing her the best he can to try and encourage her to steady her breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into him.

Harry shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. Why don’t you go for a nap, hmm? Jimmy’s gonna take a look at the damage on the window and I’m gonna talk him through everything that’s happened… see if he has any ideas.”

While a nap does sound good, Y/N’s not sure she’ll be able to switch her mind off. She doesn’t tell Harry that, though. She figures he’s also got enough on his mind, he doesn’t need to be dealing with her fussing all because she can’t sleep.

So she nods her head and pulls out of his embrace. “Yeah, okay. A nap sounds good.”

//

It turns out it wasn’t as hard to fall asleep as Y/N thought it would be. As it goes, severe stress and exhaustion happen to have that effect when the adrenaline wears off.

Ashley was kind enough to lend Y/N a spare top and some sweatpants, washing her previous clothes so they would be clean and dry for when they leave tomorrow. She stretches in the bed of the guestroom, eyes flickering to the clock that reads 17:08 and her eyes widen.

She didn’t expect for a little nap to turn into five hours of sleep and she’s slightly upset that Harry didn’t think to wake her. Her stomach grumbles and it’s only now that she realises she hasn’t eaten in just over twenty-four hours.

Her fluffy sock-clad feet carry her out into the hall, light chit-chat coming from the very end and she follows to the source of it.

They all sit at the kitchen island; Jimmy, Ashley and Harry. There’s a frown set between each of their eyebrows but Harry’s soothes out when he notices Y/N’s lingering presence by the doorway.

“Hey, are you feeling any better?”

She hums. “A little.”

He pulls out a chair for her to take, Jimmy and Ashley quietly talking between themselves as Y/N sits with them. Harry offers her his drink and she takes the glass in her hands, swirling the brown liquid as she brings it to her lips.

“It’s whis—“

She gulps down his drink before he can even finish — doesn’t even care what it is just that any drop of alcohol will do for now.

He stifles a laugh and takes back the empty glass, reaching for the bottle on the middle of the table to refill his drink.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, all eyes now on her.

Harry clears his throat. “Just trying to figure out how to get rid of the guys that are after us.”

She raises a brow, somewhat expectant. “Any luck?”

“No, not yet.” She hears a voice, her eyes following the sound to Harry’s phone that’s on the kitchen island, Niall’s contact on the screen.

“Oh,” she peeps quietly. “Hi, Niall.”

“Hey, Y/N. How are you holding up?”

She scoffs. “About as well as Bambi on ice.”

He laughs at her comment, a hearty one at that. Harry smiles softly at her, can feel the nerves and anxiety bubbling off her aura in waves. It hurts to see her like this, so curled into herself and scared.

“So, let’s lay it all out again,” Ashley speaks a little louder.

Harry and Jimmy lean forward in their seats simultaneously. “As far as we’re aware, it’s just the three of them; the brothers—“

“—Wait, they’re brothers?” Y/N pipes up with knitted brows.

Harry nods. “Mhm. A lot of the guys that train at The Box were in gangs, the Scavello brothers were rivals to a bunch of them. They’ve all got screws loose, multiple personality disorders.”

“And schizophrenia. The worst case of it.” Niall chips in.

The newfound information does nothing to cease her fears. If anything, it only intensifies tenfold and Y/N begins to find it difficult to breathe.

“Right,” Harry swallows thickly. “So it’s the three brothers, all hellbent on getting revenge for Sammy not paying them they’re thirty grand. We already know they won’t stop until they get the club or feel… satisfied enough to move on.”

There’s something about the way Harry words it that makes Y/N shiver. She doesn’t know how much longer of this she can take, how much more dangerous it’ll get. At what point will they feel satisfied? When they’re run out of town? When they’re beaten and bloody? When they’re six feet under like her brother?

“They’re known for a lot of shady shit, too. Few years ago Ryce had stabbed someone in a pub… pretty sure he’s still on the wanted list.” Niall speaks again, like that’s the worst thing they’ve ever done.

Y/N has to bite her tongue. She doesn’t know if they’re aware of the truth about Sam’s death. And if they’re not, she isn’t about to announce it. She won’t allow for him to be remembered as the guy they killed.

Not now. Not ever.

“So have you not thought about tipping off the police?” Ashley asks, slightly incredulous as if it’s the most obvious option there is. (Which in all honesty, Y/N completely agrees with).

But Jimmy shakes his head profusely, clasping his hands together on the kitchen island. “No, no way. The Feds are already suspecting the club of illegal activity. It’s just going to give them more ammo. This needs to be dealt with in-house.” He points his finger downward, tapping against the counter.

Y/N chews on the inside of her cheek, the gears ticking in her head as she thinks of an alternative idea.

“What about a set up?” she suggests. “We meet them somewhere and… Ash, maybe you could call in and say you’ve driven past a group of guys attacking a couple…. If they get arrested it could give us some time to figure out something more solid?”

She knows it’s a lame idea, but it’s something. No one else seems to be putting theories to the table.

And of course, Harry is the first to shake his head. “No, too dangerous and they won’t fall for that. They’re insane but they’re not stupid.”

She slumps at his words, slightly offended by his tone but she doesn’t let herself get into that. Really, Harry’s distaste to her idea is the least of anyone’s concerns right now.

All eyes fall on the phone in the centre of the table, “Any ideas, Ni?”

He’s silent for a moment, then a huff is heard. “Personally, I think the best option will be to come back to the club. They’re gonna riot at some point. Might aswel be prepared for it. We’ll get the boys in tomorrow and figure out a plan between the lot of us.”

It’s a bit annoying that the simplest of ideas doesn’t suck. That logically, it’s probably the smartest and safest move to make. Because Niall is right. Eventually, the brothers will riot the club, and what the fuck are three psychos against a gym full of angry boxers?

The doorbell sounds through the kitchen and pulls Y/N from her thoughts. Jimmy stands, legs of his stool scratching against the floor as he grabs his wallet from his back pocket.

“Let’s call it a night then. Pizzas here. We’ll regroup tomorrow.”

The mention of food almost has Y/N’s mouth watering. They say their goodbyes to Niall, no one’s stress easing in the slightest but at least they have somewhat of a plan and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

Those boys at the gym would fight tooth and nail to protect Sam’s legacy. She just prays that it’ll be enough.

Not much is said as they eat their dinner. Harry and Jimmy reminisce on a few memories with Ash chiming in here and there, but for the most part Y/N stays silent and focuses on her food.

They stay like that for another hour or so until Harry’s eyelids grow heavy and start to sting. He’s exhausted, to say the least. His body still aches and as he glances over at Y/N, he can tell that the five hour nap has only made her more tired.

He leans closer to her, lips ghosting her ear. “D’you wanna go to bed?”

She turns her head just slightly to get a look at him. His face is a lot more busted as the night has gone on and the sleepiness that takes over his features pinches her heart a little.

Nodding her head, she stifles a yawn. “Yeah, you look pretty tired, too.”

Harry grins as he rolls his eyes, leaning away from her now to finish the last of his whiskey. He places the glass back on the counter, clearing his throat to catch Ash and Jim’s attention.

“We’re going to head to bed, long day tomorrow.”

Jimmy puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, nodding solemnly. Y/N gets it, can practically feel the anxiety that rolls off him. While he’s good at masking his expressions, there’s not much he can do about his vibe.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. You know where everything is if you need anything.”

Harry guides Y/N off her stool and down the hall again after saying goodnight to the others. They don’t bother to turn on the light, instead opt for blindly feeling for the bed with their legs and Harry helps her get comfy.

She expects him to round the bed and crawl in next to her, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes the hair from her face and stands back with a gentle smile as he regards her.

Y/N’s brows pinch together when he speaks. “I’ll be next door if you need me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Why what?”

“Why aren’t you staying here with me?”

He smiles softly, shuffling closer to the foot of the bed again. “Didn’t want to assume, that’s all.”

It makes him feel something deep in his stomach — how she craves his presence and wants him close. There’s a swell of something similar to pride in his chest at the realisation of how deep her trust for him runs.

“D’you want me to stay, Penny?”

She sinks further into the bed, seemingly trying to hide half of her face from his gaze. “Only if you want to,” she replies.

Harry’s smile grows slightly and he nods his head, kicking off his shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. She watches, rather closely. He’s right beside her still as he strips down to his boxers before he closes the door and approaches the other side of the bed.

The sheets are cool against his warm skin, small hisses and grunts slipping from his lips at the discomfort in his ribs and abdomen. It makes Y/N feel funny, knowing just how hurt he must be. She was witness to the assault, she’s a little surprised how well he’s taking it.

She has to remind herself that he is a boxer. And a fucking good one at that.

Y/N turns onto her side, her face just a couple of inches from Harry as their eyes adjust to the darkness, desperately trying to map out the others face under the dim moonlight that threatens to peek through the curtains.

Her ankles rub together as they do every night as she tries to settle herself for bed. Something she’s done ever since she was young. Harry can feel the movement beneath the sheets, but to him, he reads it as a sign of feeling cold. So he shuffles a little closer and intertwines their legs, resting a heavy palm on her hip.

“Harry,” she whispers into the night and he’s already looking at her.

“Yeah?”

She waits a moment, unsure if there’s any use in admitting her quarries right now. There’s nothing he can do or say to soothe her, not with the mess that awaits them.

And yet she finds herself uttering it anyway. “I’m scared.”

The broken octave of her voice is felt deep in Harry’s chest, that primal and protective sensation kicking in again. It makes his brows twist in something that can only be described as annoyance. But it’s not directed at her, Harry doesn’t think it ever could be.

“I don’t see an end where we all make it out of this.”

The admittance she whispers aloud is frightening to her. As if speaking her fear is willing its existence to the universe. It has her cowering into herself with shaky breaths and eyes tightly shut.

“We will,” Harry speaks, not allowing a second of doubt to build in her pretty little head. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Her eyes peak open slowly, readjusting to the darkness again when Harry slowly inches closer until the tip of his nose nudges against hers.

“Before Sammy died, he always told me to look out for you — in case anything ever happened to him. I keep my promises, Penny. No matter what it takes.”

She believes him, wholeheartedly. She trusts that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll fight for the club. The blanket of safety that comes with Harry’s presence begins to consume her — keeps her close and warm and respected.

Maybe that’s why her eyes begin to droop until she can no longer keep them open. She cuddles into his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of his warm neck and his scent envelopes her senses as she slips into a slumber.

Harry can feel her soft breathing even out until her body relaxes against his. He lays awake, admiring the slope of her nose and her lashes that flatten across her cheekbones.

The need and desire to keep her safe prevails over any other senses. His mind falls short when he considers what he wouldn’t do to protect her, to give her the life she deserves.

And it’s not because Sam asked him to.

//

When the sun rises and the moon rests, the tension they felt the day before returns full force. Few words are shared between the four of them as they prepare for the day ahead. It’s like nobody wants to state the obvious, that this could very well be the last time Jimmy and Ashley see Harry and Y/N.

She tries her best not to think about it, not to get too deep in her head. She’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, eyes lacking their usual glint but that’s no surprise — she doesn’t think it’s been there since Sammy’s death.

A knock on the door breaks her gaze from her reflection. Harry leans on the door frame, arms folded over his chest as he offers the young woman a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jimmy’s just finished replacing the window. We’re good to go whenever you’re ready.”

He keeps his voice light and soft, not wanting to pressure her when their situation is already stressful enough. She nods her head slowly at his words, rinsing off the toothbrush under the water.

“Yeah, okay. Uh, just give me a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

He leaves her in the bathroom, bounding down the stairs as he returns to his friends in the garage. Jimmy’s wiping his hands on an old rag before flinging it across his shoulder.

“She’s all set, changed out your back tire, too. Looked like it was about to blow.”

Their hands meet in a greeting, chests bumping in that brosome hug most guys do. Harry sits his hands on his hips as he takes a look at the Chevy. As good as new, he thinks.

“Man, I appreciate you and Ash helping us out. You really saved our asses last night.”

Jimmy waves his hand in dismissal as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s what brothers do.”

There’s an appreciative smile on Harry’s face as the door opens again and Y/N’s body shuffles through. Even from across the garage, he can see that glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes.

She approaches quickly, and by the way her shoulders are slightly raised and head a little ducked, Harry can tell she’s anxious.

He holds an arm in the air for her, allowing her to settle into his side before resting the arm across her shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” she says just loud enough for Jimmy to hear.

He nods curtly, leaning forward on one foot with an open palm for her to shake. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. I’m just sorry it was under these circumstances.”

She smiles through pursed lips and shakes his head with the same pressure he offers. “Me too.”

She excuses herself to load the bags into the back of the Chevy and waits for Harry in the passenger's seat. Y/N watches them chatter quietly, the mention of Ashley being at work and that if they need anything to not hesitate to call.

It’s merely a couple of minutes before Harry joins her in the car, twisting the key to start up the engine and as he pulls out of the garage, he throws his arm out of his window to wave goodbye to Jimmy.

They share a look as they drive down the road, a nervous glance that promises they’re in this together. Harry reaches for her hand in her lap and intertwines their fingers.

She doesn’t say anything as he guides their hands to his mouth and presses a kiss on her knuckles. And he doesn’t say anything when she squeezes his a little tighter.

They remain silent for the most of their drive. It’s late afternoon by the time they arrive at the club and it’s safe to say their guards are up high. They’re eyes are scanning every inch of roads they drive through, hearts thumping in fear and anticipation.

But they don’t see anything.

Harry pulls up outside, putting the car in park and they both exit. There’s an eerie energy that surrounds them, like the universe is taunting and playing on their fears.

They can’t ignore it, even if they tried.

They enter through the back door, feet scuffling against the concrete ground as Harry guides her through. Niall had already rounded up the guys with the prompt of a family meeting taking place. So it’s no surprise that they’re already gathered by one of the boxing rings.

“Thank you all for coming,” Harry calls out to everyone as he and Y/N make their way closer to the group.

There’s a few mumbles of replies and gasps at the sight of Harry’s bruised face, and lots of nodding heads when they come to a stop before them.

“I’m sure you’re all familiar with the Scavello brothers and what they did to Sammy,” a chorus of disgruntled expressions appear throughout the faces of the group.

Y/N can’t look — keeps her eyes downcast on the floor.

“Well, they’re no longer in hiding. They’re back and they’re after us,” he sways his finger between himself and Y/N, “And this club.”

Niall steps forward, inching closer to the pair who regard the larger group. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but everyone needs to be prepared in case something does.”

Harry watches the way his members nod their heads and clench knuckles into fists. He can feel the anger and heartbreak that resonates within the gym.

“I need every single one of you on guard in case they show up. This is Sam’s life here. And we’re going to protect it like it’s our own. Understood?”

//

It’s been four days.

Four long, gruelling days of looking over their shoulders and Y/N keeping her keys between her fingers whenever she goes to and from her car alone. Not that that’s been a regular thing, Harry had convinced her to stay with him and his place. And after a bit of compromise, Harry agreed to stay at Y/N’s so she wasn’t on her own.

And it was a bit awkward at first. She didn’t ask for him to stay in her bedroom with her, allowed him to turn the sofa into his temporary bed. But by the second day, the awkwardness evened out to a disturbingly, comfortable, domesticated situation.

Y/N cooked and Harry cleaned. They picked shows to watch together and neither left the house alone. Y/N remains on emergency leave for a week, but Harry’s assured her that when she returns, he’ll drop her off and pick her up.

There won’t be a chance for the same thing to happen again.

Today is no different. They woke up together, picked at their breakfast — both still struggling to find their appetite — and drove in Harry’s Chevy to the club this afternoon.

It’s nearing 5:30 p.m. and they’re both sitting together in the office. Y/N’s sipping on her coffee with a Manila folder in hand, Harry typing data into the computer while taking sips of his own blend every now and then.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to host fight nights with all this going on?”

Harry pauses his typing for a moment, head tilting as he looks at her. He hums, nods slowly. “You’re probably right, we’re just losing money each night that we don’t. The guys are gonna start getting frustrated. For a lot of ‘em it’s the only source of income they’ve got.”

It’s a tricky one, Y/N knows that. Their livelihood is important, but so is their safety. It seems more likely that the Scavello brothers would make an appearance on a busy night like tonight. Friday Fight Night.

A thought occurs to her. “What about an advance?”

Harry’s bows knit together. “An advance?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “We’ve got just over two hundred grand stashed under the floorboards, Har. We can offer an advance to those who need it — they can pay back in instalments when we start up fights again.”

He mulls the idea over for a few seconds, not really finding many cons to the proposal. He nods his head, digging through the draws of the desk for a notepad and pen.

“Want me to go and take names?”

Harry shakes his head. “We need to get this place looking legit first. Destroy anything that holds passwords, account numbers — anything that tries back to the illegal fights. If they or the Feds come snooping, our noses are clean and they have nothing to say otherwise.”

Y/N’s about to reply, to suggest burning any correlating paperwork when a ruckus from outside the office and in the gym is heard.

They look at one another, eyes wide and churning stomachs. Harry stands first, bringing a finger to his lips as he motions for Y/N to stay quiet. The ruckus gets a bit louder, a chorus of disgruntled sounds heard.

Harry inches toward the door first, an arm outstretched to his side in an attempt to keep Y/N behind him. She follows suit, hands trembling slightly and she struggles to see over his broad shoulders.

But Harry can see. He sees the three brothers, but they’re not alone. They’ve brought a posse with them and their hands are all equipped with anything you could think to use as a weapon.

Hammers, knives, baseball bats. If it wasn’t such a dire situation, he’d find it ironic that Ryce is gripping a crowbar.

He’s the first to notice Harry’s presence and his blood is quick to run cold. He taps at Y/N’s side, trying his best to buff out his body to shield hers from their view.

“Stay in the office and lock the door. Text Jimmy and get rid of everything.”

He shoves her backward slightly, reaching for the door handle to close it behind him. She locks the door with nimble fingers, racing around the desk to retrieve Harry’s phone and find Jimmy’s contact.

It’s Y/N. They’re here.

She drops the phone on the desk after sending the message, opening the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. She can’t stop her hands from trembling, has to continuously replay the plan in her head.

Jimmy calls the police which gives Y/N time to destroy anything illegal while Harry fights them off just long enough for the police to arrive, and everyone prays that nobody gets hurt or killed in the meantime.

No matter how many times she reminds herself of the plan, it doesn’t soothe her fears. Anything could go wrong at any given moment.

It’s not just the three of them this time, they brought friends and it’s going to get messy.

She grabs Harry’s gym bag from the corner of the room and collapses to her knees by the desk. Her fingernails struggle to pry the floorboards up until she spots a flat-headed screwdriver poking out from the gym's tool bag.

It works to her advantage, a few good tugs and pulls and the floorboard pops up with a creak. She’s careful when she pulls it out completely, throwing it to the side and grabbing handfuls of the wads of cash.

Her movements are frantic as she shoves them into the duffle bag, the commotion from outside growing louder and louder. She fills the bag with the money and rushes to take off her jacket, throwing it into the bag to hide the cash and she zips it up, kicking it under the table and smacking her floorboard back in place.

Y/N moves to the filing cabinet, fumbling through the drawers in the desk for a lighter. The papers she retrieved earlier are thrown into the trash can, fingers desperate to spark a light but a thumping on the office door stops her — panics her.

It bursts open after the fourth budge, hinges almost flying off and there he stands, Ryce Scavello, bloody and bruised and gripping a crowbar.

All colour drains from her skin, a sickness within her stomach that’s all-consuming. There’s a maniacal smirk painted across his thin lips and the mark across his neck from her use of the aforementioned weapon still paints his skin deeply.

“Are you going to put up a fight as good as your brother?”

That fear morphs into anger the second the words escape his mouth, her eyes dark and blood cold. She flicks the lighter once more and it sparks a tall flame, and just as he’s about to step toward her, she throws it into the trash and the documents burn in a blaze.

Y/N dodges the first swing he throws, the curled edge of the crowbar nipping at her hair and pulling a few strands out of her ponytail. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she ducks from another hit and he laughs at her, sadistically.

“Well you’re certainly as fast as him. Did he teach you that, hmm? Did big brother Sammy teach you how to fight before I killed him?”

She does her best to block out his words, raising her fists to cover her face and her legs spread in the same stance Sam had taught her growing up.

She channels him, everything he ever showed her. She lets her brain reminisce about their occasional sparring sessions because Sam was hellbent on teaching her the right ways to defend herself.

Back then she always told him he was being dramatic, that she’d never put herself in a situation where she’d need to fight for her life.

And now, she can hear his reply in her ears, as clear as day: These situations find you, and you need to be prepared for them.

Ryce lunges for her again, catching her in the temple with his fist at the same time she kicks into his kneecap. The crunch of his bone is heard but it doesn’t stop him.

He somehow gets closer and wraps his hand around her throat, a vice-like grip as he slams her body onto the desk and knocks everything off, her and Harry’s coffees spilling on the floor.

Y/N thrashes her legs against him, fingernails scratching at the skin of his face as her thumbs probe harshly into his eyes. Ryce’s grip loosens just enough for her to try to shuffle away, but his hand is replaced with the crowbar and he’s choking her out like she did to him.

He’s seething above her, her own hands now desperate on the bar to try to pull it off, to give herself relief. It doesn’t work, he’s overpowering in every sense and the lack of oxygen she gets makes it harder to move.

Y/N’s eyes are frantically searching for something — anything — to use to her advantage. Her line of sight falls short until she notices the large metal stapler that’s hanging off the edge of the desk. She pries her fingers out as she stretches for it, nails scratching against the metal until she’s able to flick it closer.

The second she’s able to wrap her fingers around the stapler, her arm swings and it thuds heavily against the side of Ryce’s head. Once, twice, three times.

His hold on the crowbar across her throat loosens until he drops it onto the floor. Y/N’s gasping for air, eyes wide and chest heaving as he holds the side of his head in agony.

That’s how Harry finds them — Ryce on top of her on the desk, grunting in pain and anger. He doesn’t allow him another moment to regain himself before Harry swings for the side of his face and Ryce’s body clambers to the floor and off Y/N.

She’s frantic, struggling to grasp reality as Harry reaches her. His hands find her face, gentle touch as he coos to her, promises her it’s okay and he’s got her.

She gets a look at him, bloody and bruised and his bottom lip is split and already swelling. Y/N sits up with the help of Harry at the sounds of blaring sirens and she turns to him, swallowing thickly.

“Grab the money, we need to go.”

Her gaze meets the unconscious body on the floor, anxiety still bubbling in her chest at the realisation that in a few short minutes, this could be completely over with.

Harry reaches for the bag of money when he notices the trash can on fire. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s burned the documents. They leave the contained fire to burn as they leave the office, both hobbling and gasping for breath.

Police begin to infiltrate the gym, batons in hand and guards to their bodies — as they would for any kind of riot. There’s at least seven officers, all shouting commands to get on the ground or stay where they are.

The gym is in distress. Photo frames and trophies on shelves have been smashed and broken, weights are strewn across the floor, some clean and some with blood. Their hands all reach into the air in a form of surrender and before long, the majority of the trainers and rioters are in cuffs.

An officer approaches Y/N and Harry, quite polite as he assures them he isn’t going to cuff them unless given reason.

“A few of your friends said you two are the owners?”

Harry nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, that’s right. We were in the office when they showed up and then a fight broke out.”

The officer squints at Y/N and she squints back, reading his name tag as Jones. He looks back to Harry.

“Who’s they?”

“Ryce, George and Scott Scavello. They’re brothers.”

Officer Jones raises an eyebrow at Y/N’s words. “You know them?”

“Uh, we’ve had some trouble with them in the past.”

Y/N’s head snaps to look at Harry, wonders what the fuck he’s going to tell the police, if it’s really a good idea to mention what they did to Sammy. Couldn’t Harry get into trouble for withholding evidence about a crime for all this time?

Jones clears his throat. “Do you wanna expand on that?”

Y/N decides to speak up again. “My brother, Sam, owned this place with Harry before he died. The Scavello brothers tried to join the gym but Sam didn’t want that kind of riffraff associated with the company. They didn’t take it well and now, I guess this is them fighting it.”

Harry watches her with fluttering eyes, slightly amazed and somewhat concerned with how easily she was able to fabricate part of the truth like that.

Officer Jones nods as he jotts down a rough summary of her words, looking to Harry in case he has anything more to offer.

He blubbers for a moment. “Uh, yeah… what she said.”

He writes a little more, turning to look over his shoulder to no doubt report anything extra he may need to. It’s only for a couple of seconds, which allows Y/N and Harry to share a look that screams don’t say anything stupid, and he’s back to facing them again.

“So, you say you’re the owners?”

Harry and Y/N nod simultaneously, eyes downcast to somewhat avoid the officers gaze. He hums, scribbling some more.

“Do you have proof of that?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I can get you the ownership contract.”

Y/N watches meticulously, tries to work out what Officer Jones is writing by the way he scribbles but it’s no use. He taps the pen on the pad, looking around.

“Do you have any security footage? So we can confirm your story.”

Y/N looks at Harry. Do they? She hopes there isn’t a camera in the office, or else they’ll find the footage of her burning illegal evidence. But if they have cameras in the gym, isn’t that going to expose the fight nights? Her head is spinning.

“Yeah…. Niall!” Harry calls over for the blond, who quickly jogs over with a bruised eye and a cut across the bridge of his nose.

“Ni, would you mind showing Officer Jones the security footage from this evening.”

Y/N swallows thickly, watching as Niall guides Jones into the trashed office. She smacks Harry’s arm, eyes wide when he turns to her with pinched brows.

“Ouch… what was that for?”

She grits her teeth. “Why have you done that? He’s going to find all sorts on the cameras!”

Harry lets out a soft laugh and shakes his head. “We turn the cameras off at night.”

He watches her body visibly relax; shoulders slumping and eyes dropping. From their spot by the office, they can see the damage that’s been done.

Blood stains the floor in several places, gym equipment broken and there are at least seven holes in the walls that Y/N can see. She spots the brothers, all conscious now and strapped up with cuffs.

There’s a few more officers that take statements from the members of the gym, a couple of those being detained for aggravated assault and they don’t bother to argue that it was self defence. They played their part, they protected Sam’s legacy. And they know both Harry and Y/N will bail them out by morning anyway.

The adrenaline rush that she’s been on for the past week is slowly seeping from her pores. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this exhausted in her entire life and the harsh realisation of what they’ve been through begins to hit her like a tonne of bricks.

“Harry,” she whispers softly, “I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

He turns to her with pinched brows but her gaze is far too focused on the blank space ahead of her to realise.

“What?”

She swallows. “There’s too much pain here. Everything hurts since losing Sammy.” Her voice breaks as she speaks.

Harry blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the situation. He thought they had something, that something genuine was forming between them and now she wants to leave? To run away?

“What about the club?”

She scoffs out a laugh, finally looking at him now. “You had it on lock this whole time.”

“Well what about me?” he argues. “What about us?”

There’s hurt in his voice and Y/N can’t help but feel confused butterflies in her stomach. Us? She never considered that there would be. Despite the two times they hooked up and the intimacy their friendship shared, she didn’t think Harry would ever want anything more. And now he’s telling her that he does?

It hurts her, deep in her soul. Because she harbours feelings for the fighter, strong feelings. But the thought of it scares her too much. What would Sammy think if he could see them now?

When she doesn’t reply, Harry speaks again.

“If you really want to leave, I’ll come with you.”

She laughs at this, and she laughs loud. Shaking her head, she looks at Harry again. That hopeful glint shines in his eyes and it breaks her heart.

“No, Harry. You barely even know me.”

“I know enough,” he retorts quickly.

Her hands find her hips as she turns her body to face his. “Harry—“

“No, come on,” he interrupts her, “Whatever this is between us is only just starting. Don’t walk out on it.”

She huffs, frustrated. “I’m not walking out on it.”

“You’ll regret it if you do. You’ll regret leaving the club and my Gran will be so heartbroken…”

“Hey,” she pouts. “Don’t bring Mary into this.”

“It’s true!”

There’s a wide smile on his lips now and one creeps its way onto Y/N’s, too. He knows what’s going on in her head — how she’s considering what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

His gaze softens when their eyes meet again. Harry reaches for her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“At least think about it a little more before you decide to leave. Don’t make hasty decisions…”

“Harry…” she sighs, her smile faded to a slight grimace.

He’s right and she knows it. But it doesn’t take away the pain she feels in this town. It doesn’t make moving on from her brother's death any easier. Everything is a constant reminder of him and what happened to him.

Everything but Harry.

“Go on a date with me,” he proposes, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

Y/N’s brows raise as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “What?”

“C’mon, one date. And if I can’t convince you that we have something real, and that you should stay… then I’ll understand.”

She catches her bottom lip between her teeth and weighs out her options. She could very easily decline and leave town right now, to never speak to him again or return.

But the idea of going on a date and seeing where this connection goes sounds a little more enticing. Because deep down she knows that running away won’t solve anything. It won’t make her forget the truth.

If she leaves now, she’ll never come back. And she’ll forever regret walking away from her brother's legacy and whatever her and Harry could’ve been.

He dips his head down to catch her line of sight again, a playful smirk etched onto his face as he squeezes her hands. Y/N makes her decision there and then; to not run away, but to stay and see where fate will take her.

“Fine,” she smiles. “One date.”

//

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[corroded-hellfire]

From one ginger to the other I absolutely adore the as you wish series! <3

I was wondering if you could do something where the reader goes out with Nancy for brunch for the first time after having Eliza. And her alcohol tolerance is obviously lower than pre-Eliza. And she gets quite tipsy, and Eddie has to pick her up, and she's all over him and just spewing nonsense about how much she loves him and their family.

And she admits how much she loved having his baby, and Eddie is just totally smitten as she just keeps going on and on.

Anything for a fellow ginger! This is silly and cute and I hope you like it 🥰

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexy talk

[As You Wish masterlist]

The sun brings warmth to the breezy spring day as you finish up your brunch with Nancy. It’s the first time the two of you have gotten to do this since you gave birth to Eliza. You had been aware that things would change drastically after giving birth, but you hadn’t even realized how long it had been since you and Nancy had a girl’s day until she invited you a few days ago. 

Mimosas seemed like a perfect way to celebrate when you arrived, but by the time you had finished your second glass along with your French toast, it was too late to remember that your tolerance was lower now. 

“Same thing happened after I had Danny,” Nancy tells you as you take a long sip from your water glass. “Steve and I went to a work party, and we had to leave after I had one vodka cranberry.”

“I don’t feel drunk,” you tell your friend, the lightness in your head giving you a pleasant buzz of happiness on top of the already enjoyable day. “Just tipsy. But I know I can’t drive like this. I’ll go call Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy offers. “I can just drive you home.”

You shake your head as you carefully push yourself up from the cushioned chair. 

“No, it’s okay. Wayne’s over so he can stay with the kids.” 

It is the truth, but the main reason you want Eddie to pick you up is because you really want to see your husband right now. Like a pregnancy craving for food turned into a yearning for a person, you feel as if your hands are not on Eddie within the next few minutes, you’re going to lose your mind. It’s all you can think about as you put one foot in front of the other as you walk inside the restaurant from your porch table.

The hostess shows you to a phone and your fingers eagerly skip over the familiar numbers for your home.

“Hello?”

Just the sound of his voice sends a chill throughout your body—one the warm spring day outside could never eradicate. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you say. Even you can hear the smile in your voice.

“What, baby? Are you okay?” The concern in Eddie’s voice does nothing to help the burning deep within you.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you tell him. “I had a, uh, couple of mimosas with lunch and I did not realize my alcohol tolerance would be this low after having Eliza since I haven’t drank in a while.”

There’s an exhale of relief on the other end of the phone. Eliza babbling in the background and Luke’s raucous laughter has you grinning into the mouthpiece you’re clutching on to. 

“I’ll be right there, okay?” Eddie assures you. “We’ll get your car later.”

“Okay!”

Eddie chuckles at your carefree attitude and can only imagine how cute you look right now, all smiley and bubbly. 

“I’ll see you soon, princess.”

“Okay! Bye.”

When you get back to the table, amongst the empty plates and discarded silverware, you see that Nancy has already paid the whole bill and you give her a soft glare.

“What?” she asks innocently, large eyes making it even more convincing. “I’m pretty sure you paid last time.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble as she stands up and grabs her purse. “I’m sure you remember that from, like, a year ago.”

No response from Nancy on that, she just gives you a wink and loops her arm through yours. The two of you walk arm-in-arm out to the parking lot in front of the restaurant. 

Nancy’s car is parked in the shade so there’s a coolness on your backside as you rest against the trunk of the silver Lexus. Your friend tugs a little on the cream-colored sweater she’s wearing but you wish you had Eddie’s arms around you to keep you warm. Thoughts of Eddie’s arms lead to thoughts of his hands all over you and you’re unable to keep a dreamy little hum from slipping out.

“Thinking about Eddie?” Nancy asks, though the amusement on her face says she already knows the answer.

“I’m always thinking about Eddie,” you admit with a shrug. 

“God, you two are adorable,” Nancy says, mostly to herself. 

A squeal of excitement and you hopping off the car in excitement lets the brunette next to you know that Eddie’s truck has pulled into the parking lot. It’s her clue even before the metal music can be heard soaring out of the open windows. 

Eddie leaves one hand on the steering wheel and uses the other to turn the volume dial down as he slows the truck down right behind Nancy’s car. He lifts an eyebrow and looks you up and down appreciatively. 

“Need a ride, gorgeous?” he asks.

The giggle that tumbles out of your lips has both your best friend and your husband smiling as he puts the truck in park and steps out of the car. As soon as he walks back around the bed, you throw yourself at Eddie, who catches you and lets out a surprised huff of laughter.

“Hello to you, too,” he says. Protective as always, he wraps a sturdy arm around your waist to make sure you’re steady before he looks over at Nancy. “She wasn’t any trouble, was she?”

“Nope,” Nancy says. “Ate her vegetables and went to bed on time.”

“Hey!” You pout, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’m the babysitter, not the baby. I mean…I was the babysitter. Now I’m the Mommy.”

Your two compatriots share an amused smile before Nancy gives you a wave and gets in her car. Eddie leads you over to the passenger’s side of the truck. You have no intention of letting him go though, so you wrap your arms around his neck so he’s leaning over you in the seat.

“Uh, babe?” he says with a chuckle before realizing it’s better to just humor you. 

Rapid fire kisses get smacked all over your face which has you squirming on the spot and gets you to loosen your grip on your husband’s neck. But the moment Eddie climbs in the driver’s seat and closes the door, you lean over the center console to grab at him again. 

“Sweetheart,” he says with a laugh, amused at your touchiness, “I have to drive us home.”

Silently, you decide that’s okay because that’s where your babies are, so you let go and slip back into your own seat. The older man puts the truck into gear as you buckle your seatbelt and then he pulls out of the parking lot, onto the main road.

It’s quiet only for a matter of seconds before you speak again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We have the cutest family ever.”

Eddie nods his head in agreement, trying to keep his laughter inside lest you think he’s laughing at you.

“Absolutely,” he agrees.

“And it’s because you’re so cute!” you gush, throwing your hands in the air with a dramatic flourish that Luke would be proud of. “What do Ryan, Luke, and Eliza all have in common? Your genes! That’s why they’re so stinkin’ adorable.” You sigh dreamily and rest your head against the headrest as you gaze at your husband. “You’re such a DILF.”

Eddie can’t help but let out a bark of laughter at that and looks your way as you pull up to a red light. Glee dances in his eyes as he tilts his head. 

“Isn’t that ‘Dad I’d like to fuck?’” he asks. “You have fucked me, baby. Many, many times.”

“Fine. You’re a DIHF.” The different pronunciation has a raspberry blowing out of your mouth at the end of the word. “‘Dad I have fucked.’”

This is the most entertained I have been in so long, Eddie thinks to himself as the light turns green. It only reinforces the insane amount of love he has for you, and he feels the need to reach over and hold your hand. Luckily, yours is resting on your thigh now so he does just that. Softly, his thumb begins to stroke the back of your hand. 

“M’so happy, Eddie.”

“Good,” he says, “I’m glad you had a good time with Nancy. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to go out.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I mean, yes, I am happy because I got to spend time with Nancy today but that’s not what I was talking about. I meant that I’m so happy cause I got you and the boys and little Liza. Best things that ever happened to me.”

“I feel the same way, princess.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I really, really loved having your baby.”

Eddie can’t help the big grin that stretches across his face at your words. God, he could never hear that enough from you. 

“I had something that was half you and half me growing inside me,” you explain as if Eddie doesn’t know what being pregnant entails. “It felt crazy. But like, a good way. Like, I couldn’t believe it was happening. A little piece of you right here.” Your free hand pats your lower abdomen and when Eddie glances over he sees you looking down at that part of your body.

“I wanna do it again.”

Eddie almost swerves off the road at those words.

“Huh?” he asks, hand tightening on yours.

“I wanna have your baby again! I mean, not right now. Fucking hell, my vagina would fall out having babies so close together like that. Ow.”

“Jesus Christ, I love you,” Eddie raves. “But yeah, we don’t want your vagina falling out. Pretty sure we both really, really like that part of you.”

A sly smile grows on your lips as Eddie turns the truck into your neighborhood. You know it’s a little mean to turn your husband on when you’re about to go home to a house full of kids and his uncle, but you just can’t help it. You’re having fun and it’s alcohol-induced and Eddie’s done way worse things while under the influence. 

“Well,” you start innocently, “maybe if my vagina hurt you could kiss it better?”

“Fuck,” Eddie growls, glancing over at you. “Really gonna do this now?”

The maniacal giggle you let out already has Eddie forgiving you, his heart soaring with how much love he feels. He’d let you tease him and taunt him until the end of time. And God knows you’re the only one allowed to. But that makes it even better, Eddie thinks, because then he gets a pass to act as an over-protective asshole once in a while when the jealousy monster rears its ugly head. It’s a fair trade you can both live with. And if Eddie’s cross to bear is you getting him all worked up when there’s no time to do anything about it, he thinks he’s pretty damn lucky. 

[cherry-romper]

Being Friends Would Include

+ Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, Iida, Momo, Jirou, Mina, Ochaco, Asui, Mirio, Amajiki, Aizawa, Hawks, All Might, Dabi, Twice, Compress, Shiguraki

Midoriya;

Absolutely down to help you with anything, he never asks for anything in return either.

Although, he does sometimes ask for you to spar with him. He admires you abilities in combat and thinks with your help he'll be able to get better at a rate he's happy with. Plus, its an excuse to hang out with you more.

Sometimes he has moments of vulnerability, thinking he isn't improving fast enough. You're apart of the select few he allows to see those moments. 

An absolute dork. Will info dump at any moment, about the most niche subjects. You're happy to sit and listen to him yap but sometime his ability to talk at length without stuttering scares you.

Bakugou;

He's quite most of the time. He likes hanging out in groups of three or more so he doesn't have to actually speak and he's free to just listen and observe. 

You and Kirishima are his closest friends, so you can often be found on days off convincing Bakugou to come with you to the mall. To which he always replies so politely, something along the lines of: "I'd rather die. Get out of my face, morons, you're pissing me off!" Isn't he just so sweet?

You absolutely match his wit. If he throws an insult at you, you throw a worse one back. If he raises his voice, you raise yours. So does Aizawa. 

Its one of the reasons he became friends with you in the first place; your spunk. He liked that you knew you were strong, and didn't let anyone tell you otherwise. You were also able to take the criticism without feeling sad, something he envied.  

Todoroki;

Keeps to himself a lot. Not much of a socialiser. A homebody at heart.

Forces himself to hang out when invited though. When he does he often finds himself drifting to you, your precents helping to calm him down. 

The worst texter on the planet. So blunt it hurts. "yeah." "ok." "sure." "be there." "on the way." He also someone who responds immediately or 3 weeks later. He's not on his phone often, and he has it muted a lot because of his dad. 

Nowhere near as polite as people think he is. Absolutely lives by "respect is earned, not given". He just has issues with social cues at times.

He's also incredibly chill. Likes to get his work done asap so he can relax and read manga.

Kirishima;

Work out together are a MUST. "If you're not doing anything later, why don't we hit the gym?!"

He's such a 50/50. one minute he's so cool and is able to deal with issues, the next he gets all flustered and babbles on about what he could have done better.

That's a BIG thing with Kiri, he doesn't care about being perfect, perfect is just a concept. He cares about being better. Better than he was yesterday. Better than he was last week. Better than he's ever been. If he's not constantly improving, he gets REALLY down. 

Does not let anyone see his down moments, that would not be manly. You find him one day, crying to himself because his quirk envy was SOARING. He gave you that bs of not wanting you to see him cry coz its "not manly", you smacked the back of his head telling hi to stfu and let you comfort him. 

Kaminari;

Dork.

You're actually dumb and dumber. Tweedledum and Tweedledee if you will. 

Doesn't have too many doubts or reservations about becoming a hero. Not that he's not capable of those emotions, I just think he doesn't see the point in getting so down about it and much prefers just fixing an issue asap. 

A very expressive texter. Will use GIFs, memes, emojis and copy pastas for everything. He has a folder saved. His memes are more organised that his course work. 

Sero;

You share manga. Even read it together sometimes. 

Always puts you on the BEST music. He has playlists for EVERY emotion known to man. Has them labelled like 'pining (v.)' 'stargazing (n.)' 'content (adj.).

The chillest guy in the world. Will not make a big deal out of anything because he sees no need for it. 

Still is absolutely down to mess around and have a laugh even if it get you in trouble. Its all apart of the memory for him. 

Iida;

The sweetest and politest person to ever exist. Ever.

He can often be found reading. Will not even notice he's humming in agreement when he reads something he likes. The occasional "ah, I see" when he's doing his academics. 

Not the best with social cues, but still isn't as bad as people make him out to be. Can absolutely take a joke, he just cares a lot about being a hero. 

This boy is a family man through and through, will talk about his brother when he gets the chance. It weighs on him that he now has to uphold the name Ingenium, but you offer him advice and peace when he gets all worked up.

Momo;

A classy girl, but she's still down to do whatever her friends suggest. If they want to go to the mall then sure, she'll go, but you'll find her in a café about 20 minutes into shopping. 

She's a people watcher, not too big on socialising. Often finds her closest friends in crowds

Has the most detailed routines. Her bathing takes about 1-2 hours, she has an extensive list of products she uses. If you have a skin issue, or a problem with your body, she know exactly what product to use to help. She even known the cheaper alternatives. 

Big tea drinker, often brings a flask to school full of something to help her focus. 

Jirou;

Down for anything, anytime, all the time. Literally the definition of "sure thing". 

Not the best in big crowds, but plays it off. 

She has such a good music taste - listens to everything, with a preference for rock. 

Writes music all the time, you're always the first person to hear it. She loves when you give her advise on how to improve. This also translates into hero work too. If she gets a new move, she is so excited to show you.

Mina;

The extrovert of all extroverts. 

Huge on music and dance. She cannot get enough on 2000's clubbing music, but she's also a sucker for 90's hip-hop. 

Also really into fashion and shopping. You always get invited to the mall with her. 

She's the one who set up the group chats and often taken the lead when it comes to organising things outside of school - Iida and Momo take care of the school stuff. 

She needs help a lot with her work, finds it really hard to focus for long periods of time. Group study sessions help her out the most. 

Ochaco;

Such a pure soul. 

She's so incredibly strong willed, it almost bugs you how she's able to bite her tongue at times.

A lot like Todoroki in the sense that, as sweet as she is, she absolutely doesn't take any shit. Is nowhere near as polite as people say. She'll give everyone the same respect she wants to see retuned. If someone did something to make her lose respect, she'll lose all of it all at once. Which is why she has to bite her tongue a lot.

You, her and mina have the nastiest gossip sessions. You all put the world to rights at god-knows-o'clock in the morning. "I mean, did you see the dirty look she gave me? what more did she want me to do?"

Asui;

Loves hanging out in groups so she doesn't really have to contribute to the conversation. The best listener.

although she can get lost in her own thoughts when you're talking to her. She'll apologise profusely when you bring her back to reality. Doesn't mean she wasn't listening, just means she was overthinking what you said to her. 

Saying that, she's able to focus up really well in lessons. 

She'll ask you to go on walks with her when she needs to clear her head, she finds comfort in your company and is happy to walk with you in silence. 

Mirio;

You're never not laughing around him. Bring joy with him everywhere. 

Has the worst dad jokes known to man. Sometimes they're so bad you just have to stare at him in disbelief. 

Down for anything all the time. You often have to convince him not to do things.

Even though he's big on humour, he's not the best at sarcasm. Sometimes he will take things literally, it won't bum him out, but he will feel a little sour,  

Amajiki;

HATES group settings, but also kinda likes them because he can slip away a lot easier. 

Hangs out at home but loves when you can all just sit and chill together. Likes movie nights or just reading manga together in silence. 

Mario often drags the two of you away from whatever you're both doing to go for a walk or something. He's not gonna make either of you do anything you don't want to do, but he pushes you to get out of your comfort zone as much as possible. 

You have silly inside jokes that no one else understands. 

Aizawa;

He's a busy man, but he tries to make time where he can. 

He often just likes being in your company. Your chill with just sitting in silence doing your own respective things, but he also love to just listen to you yap as you talk about your day.

Tricket man. He likes little sentimental things. 100% has a memory box (most of it is of you). 

A silent Carer, but he cares so deeply it makes his heart ache. 

Not big on hugging but will give them when you need them. 

Hawks;

As charming as he is on the surface. You might be the only one he's talked to at length about his trauma. Best Jeanest knows about his trauma, but you understand. 

Will take you a flights around the city. He loves the cityscape at night so he'll take you to the top of a building and talk with you as you watch everyone's lights turn out. 

He will also take you above the clouds when the suns setting, its the most breathtaking sight. He gets to watch something so beautiful, while holding you close. Its a win-win. Even if he's not meant to be doing it. 

He's often busy, so he'll leave you little notes and/or gifts when he happens to fly past your apartment window. 

Will jumpscare you at night, coming to your window mildly injured, seeking your comfort. 

All Might;

Big jokester but can take thing serious when needed. 

Loves giving out hugs, especially in his muscle form. 

You were one of the first people to find out about his power and its secret. You were also one of the first people he saved, and in turn you'd managed to save his mental when he was going through his worse moments. 

Changed your phone ringtone to match his as a prank. You never changed it back. 

Dabi;

A man of few words. Values silence but also likes deep talks, especially when your views align with his own. 

You met when he was out recruiting for the LOV. You were the only one who didn't fold or become hostile immediately when he showed himself. 

Not insecure about his scars, finds them like trophies. Still, he's not a fan if he catches you staring. 

Doesn't really laugh, most you'll get is a nose exhale or a smirk. He just enjoys things more internally.

Twice;

Most confusing dude, but you're so patient and understanding with him which he is so grateful for. 

Not a leader, prefers to tag along with you when you go out recruiting. Often messes things up when he contradicts himself when he talks, but if someone insults him, you have no problem cutting them down. 

You bonded over you care for your friends. You called it found family, and he lost his mind over that term. 

You carry an extra mask of his around in case he ever needs it. 

Mr. Compress;

The most dramatic guy. 

Adores flamboyance, and likes when you put on a show if you're fighting. 

He sneaks you into the theatre with his quirk. You both bond over musicals and you introduce him to some musical movies. 

Brings you breakfast and the like when he can. Loves being able to serve.

Shigaraki;

Obsessive to a fault. You're one of the only people he confides in about his mission.

He trusted you from the moment you walked through the door. You were rational enough to see his plan, whilst still having your own agenda.

You also weren't afraid of his quirk, happily touching him when you laughed and joked. 

Often found himself staring at you as your stirred up conversation with Toga and Twice. Dabi noticed his staring and having him glare. That was the only time Tomura ever felt embarrassed.

[bonefall]

do you have any tips for writing a low empathy character who isn't evil? Or how to make an interesting apathetic character who's a thoughtless sort of evil? These are two different chatacters btw-

I tried looking up examples and stuff but uh. It's been a bit fruitless.

Honestly it's not too hard! Having low empathy just means we're bad at automatically "connecting" to the feelings of other people. You can come to understand it's not even a character flaw once you uncouple the idea that Empathy = Kindness. And apathy, well, that one's a bit more complicated imo.

Low Empathy

In English, it's just unfortunately super common to conflate Empathy and Compassion. To have compassion is to be aware of the suffering of another person, and ergo, want to help stop it. To be empathetic is to identify with and understand the feelings of another person. These are different things.

For an example in action; imagine a medic with a patient whose shoulder is dislocated, and xey'll need to pop that arm back in place in order for the patient to feel better.

A medic feeling EMPATHY for that patient is having an emotional response to what xey're seeing. Xey might have a tingly "ghost pain" thinking about the injury, and xey might feel guilty xey're going to put them in more agony, but also joy because this patient is going to feel much better in just a moment.

A medic feeling COMPASSION for that patient is thinking about how the shoulder must be causing a lot of pain, and knows xey have the skill to fix it. Xey know from xeir own experience that pain sucks and so it is a bad thing that needs to go away. It will hurt a little more for a moment, but then there will be immediate relief.

This is imo, why a lot of low empathy people are "bad at" comforting people without going to Autism College where they give you the scripts of Shit Neurotypicals Say. We're not trying to be selfish when we end up making "comfort sessions" about ourselves-- that's what we think empathy is, because we don't have a lot of it to really know what you want.

Like, doesn't it make sense to you? "I don't know what you're feeling. Here's a similar situation I've been though. I must know what you're feeling-- does that make you feel better? That you aren't alone? I think that's what empathy is, am I right?"

A LOT of low empathy people go into medical fields, the funeral industry, and disaster relief. We often really do want to help people so seek these fields out, or when we get there, just end up not getting burnt out like our high-empathy peers!

Apathy

As for the apathetic character, honestly, I'd suggest thinking about your story's themes. Villains are very special to me and I always try to handle them with care. What are you trying to say is bad to not care about in your work? How does their apathy play into the story you're trying to tell?

A Captain Planet villain is completely selfish, and exists only to benefit itself by exploiting nature in some way. Then the Planeteers show up and punch it in the face. Boiled down to its barest, most simple essentials; "We have conflicting goals and so I will stop you."

Personally I find total apathy to be something not especially compelling in villains, for that reason. Like, if you really don't care about anything, why bother with the trouble of going against the protag? Motivation is meant to be MOTIVATING.

(also ngl I'm on the Shadow As A Hero sort of bandwagon where I find it much funnier for the simple apathetic cool edgy guy to be the funniest person on your tennis team)

Dungeon Meshi has TWO characters who struggle with apathy, and are both antagonists at some points in the story, but never villains. Shuro and Mithrun. The theme of Dungeon Meshi is the beauty and complexity of life, the value of living, and how our connections to others changes the people we are. Food is a metaphor for bonding, self-care, and understanding.

For Shuro, he begins the story as someone who's both been encouraged to bottle up his emotions for the sake of other people, as well as to not actually consider the emotions of those lower-born than him. He's from a very different place than the other members of his party, and this causes friction as class, culture, and sophisticated, refined, weapons-grade autism clashes.

When the woman he loves is eaten by a dragon, he doesn't stop to tell her brother and """childhood friend""" what he's planning, as if they both wouldn't run in and get hurt. He owns demi-humans. He doesn't consider his own needs or the needs of his rescue team of loyal vassals. As a result, he's too weak to continue, losing a fistfight with one of the main characters, Laios.

After this, he connects with him for the very first time, and reaches out to him by giving him an important magic item. There's even a MASSIVE moment where he outright tells Laios that his ability to be so open (read: not have to mask his autism) is something he envies, breaking through that veil of apathy he wears.

The story Dungeon Meshi is telling here is that it is important to value the needs of yourself and of others. Shuro's apathy towards his own needs in a bid to prove his love weakened him. In acting like he was above his old teammates, he never spoke to them like people to smooth out his issues. He's never even noticed how much his vassals love and care for him.

(and the incredible irony is not lost on me, that Shuro's name is because Laios mispronounced it and was never corrected... while Shuro never noticed that Izutsumi had the unwanted name "Asebi" forced onto her when she was "taken in" and made his slave.)

See how that comes back to the theme? Shuro doesn't exist to just "be some asshole" or act like a villain. He has a full character arc that contributes to the narrative.

For Mithrun? I won't even spoil it. Go read Dungeon Meshi. Watch elf depression. We love a king with strabismus.

Anyway,

If you ever need good personal resources on any stigmatized mental condition, I've found it's usually productive to go into the #Actually (Thing) tag here on Tumblr. You can find people posting about basically anything. I found a lot of really good resources on NPD that way.

[cheeseceli]

When they have a crush

Pairing: ot7 BTS × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: headcanon, fluff

Request: types of dumb or random things bts members will do while they are crushing on someone and wants their attention?

Warnings: mentions of food at jin's

A/n: I feel like I'm getting better at making the layout of these posts :)

Jin

‌This man ain't even trying to bring out his boyfriend material

‌He's going for the husband material

‌Cooks for you quite a lot

‌Always bringing you some lunch or just a few baked goodies (and never allowing the boys to eat it beforehand)

‌Runs errands with you because he "has nothing better to do" when in reality he's just desperate to be with you for a while

‌He even has "cleaning dates" with you😭

‌I see him to be a huge fan of domesticity ngl

‌So if there's anything he can do to bring out this side in your relationship, even if you're only on the friendship stage yet, you can bet that's what he's gonna do

‌And he 100% expects your friends to make the "you seem like an old married couple" jokes because !!

‌That's precisely his goal!!

‌Once he gets to know your family, he even wants your family to be expecting the day you'll both start to date

‌Jin is just the definition of husband material and he knows it, that's how he tries to make you look at him

Suga

‌Stick to the end and hear me out

‌Jokes

‌I know how that sounds but I promise you it makes sense😭

‌Yoongi is the typa guy to be effortlessly (and questionably) funny

‌Like that one time the staff said "whoever has the ball wins" and he replied with "then we are all winners"

‌However !

‌He keeps on doing those jokes like he'd always do

‌But now he unconsciously looks at your direction

‌Would you laugh? Would you find it weird? Did you even pay attention?

‌If, after developing this crush of him, he notices that you actually laugh at his jokes

‌You can be sure he'll do them a lot

‌But it's so subtle you don't even notice he's doing it to make you laugh/have your attention

‌However, he does pay attention to you quite a lot so he can always be the first one to notice your smile growing

J-hope

‌Endless excuses to see you

‌He will purposely "forget" his things at your place just so he can go back there (and forget some more things)

‌It's an infinite cycle

‌Sometimes he will accidentally leave his sweatshirts with you

‌And then he'll be like "could you give it back to me? We can go to that restaurant I was telling you about and then you can give it to me"

‌But then he will tell you that the night is cold so it's okay if you want to wear his sweatshirt while you're both out

‌And then he also forgets to take it back

‌Wow who would ever imagine this could happen

‌So now you both need to see each other again because he really wants that sweatshirt

‌Bro is still trying to grow the courage to properly ask you out

‌So even if you do catch up on his small antics, please engage on it

‌He just needs a little bit of impulse 😭

Namjoon

‌Whenever he wants your attention, he starts to talk

‌And with that I mean he TALKS

‌Won't shut up for a second

‌And he won't even make sense, bro is talking about the dumbest and more random things you could ever imagine

‌ "I wouldn't want to live in mars, it sounds depressing. Neptune sounds cool though, don't you think?"

‌Like?? How do you want me to answer to that hun😭

‌But it's kinda sweet because he becomes a professional yapper to gain your attention, but once he gets it he let's you do all the talking

‌He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted you to be there with him

‌So you can talk all you want, he will pay attention to every single word with a little smile on his face

Jimin

‌Deadass stares at you

‌Not in a creepy way tho, just in a "please look at me I really want your attention right now"

‌And will keep on staring at you until you give in

‌Heavy on physical touch as well

‌At this stage of your relationship, everything is friendly of course

‌Because he is scared of letting you know he's in love with you💀 even if that's pretty much the whole point

‌However

‌He still craves a lot of your touch

‌Hugs all the time, holds and plays with your hand, the same goes to your hair...

‌Sometimes you can't even go somewhere without him following you like a shadow

‌Trust me, if he wants your attention he will find a way to have it

Taehyung

‌He will ask for it

‌Like, literally

‌I see him as a very straightforward person so he'll just be like "y/n pay attention to me"

‌Multiple times, until you actually do stop whatever you were doing and look at him

‌And his reaction will be like 😄

‌I see him doing this slightly more subtly when he's trying to get your attention from someone else

‌If he feels you're talking to Jin, for example, for a very long while now, he won't hesitate on sitting next to you

‌And kinda throwing himself on top of you

‌lmao scratch what I said, that's not subtle at all

‌But at least he doesn't say what he wants from you out loud ig

Jungkook

‌You think this man is competitive?

‌That's because you haven't seen him trying to impress you

‌Are you watching the dance practice? You can bet that Jungkook is giving 3 times his all

‌Are you watching the recording? Bro becomes Mariah Carey in two seconds

‌The boys' biggest fear is when they are playing basketball or something like that and you're watching it

‌They KNOW they are going to lose

‌It can be a 6×1, nothing is stopping him from impressing you like that

‌But if you're the one playing against him? He's probably gonna win the match no matter what, but he's going to be extremely soft at least!

‌Please do compliment him on how he was, he needs to know it was worth it😭

Masterlist | you'll probably like: when you're rejected by your crush

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @k1ssyoursister

[dirtydombigbrother]

The cool thing about having weed? My younger siblings think it’s cool. That means they want it, even if they don’t know what it really does yet.

The first time my little sister tried it? We were in my bed, watching a movie. She had a tshirt and pajama shorts on, and barefoot. Her cute little toes painted blue. I’d taken a hit from my vape, and shed turned to me. “That looks really fun.” I just kind of nodded, and ignored her.

After a few moments, she asks “Do you think I can try it?” Kind of annoyed, I just hand it to her, and let he do her thing. She starts coughing, choking, hacking up a lung from the smallest hit. I start laughing, and she’s hitting me with her little hands to get me to stop.

“How’d you like it?” I ask her, as she hands it back to me. She kind of just mumbles that it hurt, and I laugh again. “It would be less hot if I blew it into your mouth…” I say, not knowing where it came from. She doesn’t say anything, and we both laugh awkwardly.

After a few scenes though, she looks over, and says “Are you sure?” “Yeah, our lips won’t touch, it’ll be okay.” She looks at me, her long dark hair over one eye, and nods. I look her in the eye, and take a big hit from my vape. I lean in, and so does she. Our lips so close to touching, I can feel her breath on mine. I blow into her mouth, and she inhales everything.

That’s the moment. The moment I realized I wanted more. The moment I realized I could have more, if I just kept getting her high. Eventually, we might kiss accidentally. And that might lead to another thing. I just need to get her to keep smoking…

We lean away from each other, and she lets out a long wisp of smoke from her lips. She smiles, proud of herself, and hugs me tight. I’m conscious of her breast pressed against me as she does. Oh my god. I think I’m going to try to fuck my little sister tonight….

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 2, Wave 3, Poll 1

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Gobber-How To Train Your Dragon

Qualifications:

He has a prosthetic arm and a prosthetic leg. And is confirmed to be gay (in an admittedly really weird way :/)

Propaganda:

He's gay. He's disabled. He's a viking. He's good at his job. He has a stone tooth. He uses his arm prosthetic like a toolbelt. He knows a lot about dragons. Idk man. He's cool

Zhou Zishu-Faraway Wanderers / Tian Ya Ke

Qualifications:

He is mlm, though there's no consensus in fandom whether he's bi or gay. (He had slept with women prior to meeting his male love interest, but the way he speaks of that kinda doesn't make it sound like he enjoyed it? So there's room for interpretation. Maybe hes bi who just happened to settle with a man, maybe hes a late bloomer gay.) Either way, the novel's main romance is his relationship with another man, and they are in a committed relationship by the end! Now, for the disability part. He has a physical disability that's a result of, how do I put it, non-realistic circumstances (stabbing poisoned nails into his acupoints non-realistic), but I think it qualifies for how it affects him.

To start with, he is a martial artist, but the nails thing limits him to about half of his normal ability. Which is still pretty significant given he used to be one of the top talents of his generation, but there are many instances throughout the book where he finds himself frustrated, inconvenienced, or endangered by being unable to do what he *used to* be able to do, which I think tracks with acquired disability experience. Next, the nails also give him chronic pain issues with daily (or rather, nightly) flare ups, and additional ones when he strains himself. That usually last for several hours. (Fandom also theorizes that this leaves him chronically sleep deprived, but it's more conjecture than textual.)

Then, his biggest issue is that the nails are slowly killing him, and he has like 2-3 years to live... but uh given it's a happy ending novel his friend gives him an experimental surgery and it works out. But! Gotta note that I don't think it counts as a case of 'magically cured disability' trope. It is plainly stated that he will still have some issues post-surgery - just, y'know, no longer life-ending ones. The tl;dr here is that while his situation is not something possible in the real world, it still affects him in a way an acquired physical disability may: limits things he can do compared to his pre-injury state, results in chronic pain issues, and requires difficult medical intervention to stymie the negative effects.

Propaganda:

Zhou Zishu, how do I explain him... He is a spymaster and an assassin. He put the current Emperor on the throne. He committed atrocities. He lost the person he saw as his little brother as a result. He still thinks he did what was right, in the grand scheme of things. He decides to start his retirement at age 28 by stabbing a bunch of poisoned nails into his chest, disguising himself as a beggar, and vanishing into jianghu to daydrink and sightsee. He is living his best life, all 3 remaining years of it. He is in pain every night. He meets a man who, unexpectedly, understands him with a glance... and then begins to annoy him ceaselessly, insisting he has fallen for Zishu at first sight.

Cue Zhou Zishu's horrified realization that he's not only into men, but into this clown in particular. Zishu falls in love the way a cat falls into a bath - hes trying to get out but keeps slipping back, and hes hissing all the while. (We love to bully him for his clownsexual ways.) (Also, if this makes anybody want to check out the novel, remember: Zhou Zishu is an unreliable narrator and Will lie to you. Pay attention to his actions and reactions, not just what he *says* he thinks!) Now, I could spend hours gushing about how WenZhou (the couple's ship name, and yes they are canon and the main romantic storyline) gave me unrealistic standards for romance, but I'm gonna hold myself back from writing a 6k essay and focus on the theme of the tournament. I consider Zhou Zishu a disabled protagonist because: while his situation itself is non-realistic (aforementioned 'stabbing a bunch of poisoned nails into his chest'), the way it affects him is actually pretty similar, and in some ways really the same, to how an acquired physical disability may affect a person. First, it limits what he can do, physical activity-wise, to about half of his pre-injury state. (Which is still rather a lot, given he used to be a top dog martial artist, but it's still noticeable to him.) Second, it gives him chronic pain issues, with nightly flare-ups. (And additional ones when he strains himself.) (Also, at a certain point in the book his love interest starts holding him through his flare ups. Which doesn't lessen the pain but does help Zishu cope with it better. It's very important to me that it doesn't magically help but it does Mentally help and thats enough. The "stay with him morning and night, holding his hand" of it all (; v ;) yes thats a quote from the book.) And third, it requires a difficult surgery to stymie its negative effects (him dying in three years ones). (Yeah btw its not the case of magic surgery perfectly 'fixing' (bleugh) the character; he still need physical-therapy-analogue after it, and his uh medical professional also states he will likely still have some issues post-op.)

[mybl--dyvalentine]

Love You Twice જ⁀➴ Wonwoo

✮ non idol au! wonwoo x gn! reader

✮ Summary: After the breakup, you and Wonwoo left things off on a bad note. It's been years since you've seen him last but you run into him at a park.

✮ Genre: Slight Angst / Redemption?

✮ Word Count: 647

✮ Author's Note: guys coming home by beabadoobee is so good.

You walk out of your house for the last time. The building holds many memories, some bad and some good. It's been 5 years since the breakup and you've finally decided to pack up your things for good and leave everything behind.

Your ex, Wonwoo, left the day he told you that he was moving out. At the time, Wonwoo was in his own head thinking that you were too good for him. That you deserved better. So, he told you he was breaking up with you for your own good. As much as you tried to get him to stay, he still left.

"It's better for you, Y/n. We can't stay together." He looks at you with somber eyes.

"Please! We...we can work something out. There must be something we can do." You grab his hand.

He looks at you for a minute and sighs. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. He slowly slips out of your grip and leaves you sitting there in shock. The sight of his figure leaving the door as you sit there helpless is something you will never forget.

Since then, neither of you broke no contact. Although, you've gotten really close but ultimately decided not to.

After you settled in your new apartment, you decided to take a walk to the nearest park. The walk was quite tiring so you sat down at a bench to cool off. There aren't that many people at the park, especially since it's noon. Some runners, some having a picnic, and some walking their dogs. While observing people, you recognize someone. Is that... Wonwoo? He was all alone, walking around with his hands in his pockets while observing the scenery. Emotions start to become mixed around in your head and your first instinct was to run and hide. That isn't what you did though. You stayed sat on the bench and just stared off into the distance, consumed by your thoughts. All sounds became muffled as you continued to think. There was one in particular that broke through your concentration.

"y/n. Y/n. Y/N!" You felt your body shake and you look towards the source.

It's him. Wonwoo.

"Hi..." He smiles and examines your face, "Thought I lost you there" He chuckles.

"What are you doing here?" You ask baffled.

"I was just uh.. walking around. To clear my head. Didn't think I'd see you here either." He puts his hand on the back of his head and smiles sheepishly.

"A-anyway. Do you have a minute? I want to talk. About us."

"Uh.. sure." You respond.

"Alright! Let's talk over a drink." He waves you over as he walks backwards.

---

"Seeing you after all this time really brings back memories. All I can think of are good ones." He smiles.

"It really makes me realize that I messed up. Badly."

"I'm glad you know." You chuckle.

"Looking at you reminds me of all the pain I experienced after our breakup although I can't say I'm not glad you're acknowledging your mistakes."

You take a sip of your coffee and stare at him waiting for him to say something.

"Look, I genuinely cannot imagine my life without you anymore. The past 5 years have been hell. Please, just give me one more chance to show you how important you are to me." He's staring at you with extreme determination.

Overwhelmed with emotions you say, "I... don't know what to say. I need more time to think about this."

He looks at you understandingly, "Okay, just let me know if you'll give me another chance. I can wait. Here's my number."

You type in his number into your phone and get up to leave.

"See you around, Wonwoo." You wave him goodbye.

As you walk out of the cafe you think to yourself, can you really love him for a second time?

[frostythefrostedfox]

Don't you worry, you'll be to told exactly what to do I give my people the lives they need The righteous will succeed

You know what I don't like about rebel stories like Hunger Games and Divergent? That we never get the opposite, how about a compliance story?

Something that always bothered me about certain videogames is how they never ever, not even for one second, entertain the thought that you might not agree with them, they all follow the same formula

MC is respected member of [SOCIETY] > MC has encounter with bad side of [SOCIETY] > MC is told not to question things > MC questions things > MC turns sides > MC opposes and wins against [SOCIETY]

But what if I don't wanna? Why do we never get a videogame like that?

I want a game where the MC discovers the truth about the place they live in, and even with that knowledge they stand up and say "Ok and?" and carry on with their life; and that's how this fella was created

My young impressionable mind was exposed to Syndicate (2012) in 2013, the cover looked so cool and all the promo material online was great, it even had the theme song done by Skrillex, Nero, Flux Pavillion and Digitalism (for the people that likes real music and is reading this, that used to mean a lot, they were huge and everywhere for us noise-enjoyers), but the late part of the game and the ending never really... caught my attention, I always found the introduction of the game a loooot more enjoyable, before Kilo becomes a rebel and fights Eurocorp.

And that is why I created this fella. You can even call it a semi faceclaim.

Just like Kilo, born to a syndicate to serve the syndicate, except that i wasn't Eurocorp, it was Cayman Global, following their in-universe explanation that DART-6 has not been reverse engineered by any company and is propietary software of Eurocorp, Cayman decided to try their hand at it with what knowledge they have on it, and that is how they came up with the idea of Speciality Chips, or S.C, they work similarly to DART-6, with its own schizophrenia inducing voice interface and all, except that they don't enhance every single part of a 'soldier', instead they are using to make people 'better' at their jobs, depending on the role and occupation chosen for them at birth.

Fake memories of a fake family and a fake childhood, an AI prompt fed into his brain by the SC as a child to mould his personality to what Cayman needed it to be, with fake hardships to strenghten his character and fake triumphs to make him proud and happy. And every single thing he remembers doing as a child was a stage play to nurture and test his abilities, a continious selection program where only the best move on to the next phase while never aware that they are competing; every single one of those kids he beat at Spelling Bee as a child were just like him, and their failure meant their removal from the program, another job at Cayman Global will be found for them that fits their skillset, same thing for karting tournaments, academic score, everything.

His parents are just company employees told to act a certain way to incite certain reactions, records of who he was born to are probably kept somewhere, but who cares anyways, for as long as he believes those are his parents, they will do.

The only thing that makes him a somewhat rare candidate is that he is not a single child, he has a sister, also put throught the same program as him, just for another role, using a different version of the chip for a completely different purpose.

After years of serving Cayman Global and earning his Black Stripe clearance, one of his missions has his evacuation transport crash and drop him into the sea, after his chip entered power saving mode due to not consuming enough food or water, it was the first time he ever experienced fully thinking for himself, not having his thoughts molded, suggested or coerced by any company directive, and he found those thoughts to be quite similar to the ones he had before, questioning the methods of execution of Cayman Global, but not their ideals or beliefs. Why was he floating in the sea for so long? Shouldn't they pick him up as soon as his signal dissapeared? If the SC is an AI, do they all have different personalities and voices? Is his specially made for him?

Upon arriving Someplace, Somewhere in [COUNTRY], his chip came back into service, except that now they had a different set of information and ideas, his head filled with questions that the SC couldn't answer, but none of these doubts ever put his allegiance into question, so none of them got reported back, which would have ironically gotten him rescued faster.

Eventually he came across some locals, his uniform and armor damaged, no longer sporting any visible mark of his employer, they took him in, unaware of who he was; they certainly wouldn't have if they knew he was working for the exact same company responsible for making their life so miserable.

Time passed, he learned things from the locals and the locals learnt from him, all of his training was very real, and it showed, a trained agent like him could do things these guerrilla fighters only dreamed of, eventually being a prominent voice in this little tribe that nursed him back to health, he got a taste of what being in power was like, and he liked it, and his SC was taking records of it.

This sudden change in approach to a more professional and organized course of action peaked the interest of the tribe's enemies too, they couldn't have learned these things overnight, someone was helping them, their first thought was a rival syndicate, and so they dispatched a whole bunch of agents to deal with the new threat, ironically one of these agents being his sister.

The two were fated to encounter, and that is exactly what happened, just not the way they expected it, and certainly not the way they wanted it, and totally against the syndicate's wishes. Their SCs mark each other as [RELATIVE], but they don't know this other animal in front of them, how could these two different animals could have come out of the same mother, they are not the same species, she's a bird, he's a fox, he has a marksman tag, she has a bruiser tag, they look nothing alike, they are nothing alike.

Cayman Global originally thought of this as an inconvenience that should be dealt with immediately, but latter settled on exploring the possible opportunities of letting their bond be known to each other, and more importantly, the opportunity to gain an insider with access to the locals. And they had a lot to know about each other, their customs, their way of doing things, their likes and dislikes.

This only led to more question appearing on his head, why was everything at Cayman so peaceful, why can he just solve problems with his sister so easily, while the locals have all of these problems, tribes not settling in on one thing, having to constantly ask for things, changing their minds, disagreeing, fights; maybe they had so much problems with the syndicates because of their ways, if they could understand each other, things could probably be solved quicker.

But the tribes didn't wanted that, and rightfully so, they did not wanted to surrender their freedom, their land and everything they own to a company to manage and do as it pleases with, it was theirs.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks, he and his sister were raised by the Syndicate, to them these ideas the locals speak of were nonsense, all of this chaos and problems that could be easily fixed, why wouldnt you want to fix it?

And that's when his SC, for the first time in forever, came up with its own idea, not something fed by the mainframe. Betray the tribes.

And betray the tribes they indeed do, Cayman agents agreed to the plan after a lot of favours being called and some heavy bargaining in the form of his sister's fists. An easy pick for the tribes, a Helibird crashed into the desert after a sandstorm, few survivours and a delayed rescue team due to the poor visibility, the perfect chance to pick up resources; but the only thing they picked up was a fight they couldn't win.

And so he triumphantly returned to his home, Cayman Global headquarters, but his new... Ideas... were not popular with all of his superiors, but those that agreed with him were not afraid of showing his support.

That's how he met Moon, someone that has been sitting near the top for way too long, and no longer thinks the head should be doing the thinking, and she was ready to make a play for it, playing with some strings here and there to have the siblings end up under her supervision, she could train and explore where these ideas of theirs really led to, what did they meant.

He gave a new name to his SC's voice, Lightning, and she liked it, it was nice to be her own thing, not just another chip, and in return, he let her take control over bits and pieces of his brain that none of the chips should have access to.

Little by little, Moon slowly revealled what the syndicates were up to, a second syndicate war was brooding up, and it was going to be way worse than the one they had in 2049, and she remembers that one pretty well, she was still an active agent back then. She allowed him to take a peek behind the curtain, how his memories were manipulated and changed in order to fit a narrative created by the syndicate, how his upbringing was all fake, how he was monitored and sought after like a guinea pig.

And he had absolutely no problem with any of that, his mind was so deeply consumed by the company's mindset that he couldn't even begin to understand how could any of those things were bad, he never questioned his position or his role in Cayman Global, instead he just wanted more, his last adventure made him hungry for things he should have never tasted, the company's propaganda kept him docile and happy, but also kept him compliant and safe, and he wanted none of the latter, having power is great, being in charge is amazing and telling other people what to do feels good; and Lightning agreed with it, why should she be a simple voice on his head, when she could control all the other voices on everyone's head.

That is where their real 'adventure' begins, not to destroy a corrupt syndicate, not to make the world a better place, not to make it fairer, is to put themselves on top, be the one that cuts the cake instead of being the one receiving a slice.

Thank you for coming to my OC rant

[anonymous-yandere-writer]

Requested by: @elysiumrealms

Sure! I did think some fleshing out on how the rest of the family acts around them would be cool to write. Sorry this took so long btw, my inbox gets stuffed pretty quickly and it was finals week. Anyway thanks for the ask!

-

Anon-Yan 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Malleus

Pt.3

For you, the time before your punishment was nothing but a blurry mess.

Genuinely you don't remember all your horrible habits and manipulative tactics, you just remember acting on your insticts and not really thinking before you acted.

The few things you do remember is the interactions you had with your other family members.

The most memorable were the ones with Grandpa Lilia, when you were younger he loved cuddling you upside-down. Even if his grip was iron-strong it still felt so warm that you didn't want to leave.

When you got older he would allow you to play with some of his video games, he was always so sweet and helpful. Making sure you never got too frustrated at one certain part before taking the controller from you and completing whatever challenge had you stumped.

Lilia just loves babying you in a way he never got to with either of his original children.

He never failed to make you feel like the spoiled little brat you were.

"Ooh! Don't cry Darling, there's no need for that. Here, do you need Grandpa to help you? Okay sweet-pea. Don't worry, grandpa's here for you"

Then there's uncle Silver, who whose probably the most boring person to hang out with out of everyone in the family.

Don't get me wrong, you enjoyed his company but nothing even vaguely interesting happened whenever you hung around him.

He always really apologetic about it though, even going as far to bring you a little toy everytime he was allowed alone time with you. Typically is just a teddy bear, so that at night when you fell asleep you would think of your uncle Silver.

"Sorry we weren't able to play today. Here, have this. It's so when you fall asleep at night, you'll always remember your uncle Silver."

Your uncle sebek on other hand, he was hard to forget.

He was always loud, his voice commanded battalions after all. So a voice like his would definitely need for job like that.

You and him never played together, in his own words "WAKA-SAMA'S CHILD DESERVES A MUCH BETTER PLAYMATE THAN A LOWRANKING OFFICER SUCH AS MYSELF!"

Or whatever that was supposed to mean. You never really understood his way of thinking. While he was screaming his head off about not being good enough for you, you had sit and listen to him whilst daydreaming of all the video games Grandpa Lilia would play with you later.

It was boring, and eventually as you grew older you learned to tune him out.

Though I guess that wasn't the greatest idea, because within a week of learning how tune out his voice he came to you sobbing on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness.

"PLEASE FORGIVE ME WAKA-SAMA'S CHILD! WHATEVER SLIGHT HAVE DONE TO YOU, I BEG FOR YOUR FORGIVENESS AND MERCY! JUST PLEASE STOP IGNORING ME MY LEIGE!"

But I guess that all leads you to where you are now. Stuck in a boring old rickety tower. Stuck studying and doing chores all day. At least Father allowed for your family to visit from time to time.

Their faces and voices make the endless cycle you've been going through day-to-day slightly more bareable. But to be perfectly honest, with every passing moment that you're stuck here; in this damned tower made to be your prison, you lose a small peice of your sanity.

A peice of your mind that can never be returned to it's owner.

Trully a cruel thing to do, especially to your own child. Isolating them from everyone and everything they've ever known to prove a point, when it wasn't even truly their own faults that caused such a mess? Foolish, and downright cruel if anyone asked you.

Ah, but what can you do?

You did do this to yourself after all, might as well own up to your mistakes and pay the price.

[pianokantzart]

In a villain arc Gooigi (G) scenario, whose side do you think Luigi (and the other main cast if they're there) would be on? What do you think would be the final push to make G turn against E. Gadd?

Nobody's side really? Luigi & co. are on the "as few people get harmed as possible" side.

The issue with E. Gadd is, as one of the most socially inept scientists in the world, he probably still doesn't quite realize he's created a living being rather than a cool new toy.

So the more Gooigi starts to come into his own and rebel, the more E. Gadd thinks his creation is malfunctioning and takes more and more measures to give Gooigi as little control over his own body as possible until he can be "fixed."

Maybe Gooigi was momentarily permitted to freely roam the lab before he started acting out? Maybe Gooigi interacted with the captured ghosts? King Boo included?

Maybe King Boo finds Gooigi– who is pretty much a toddler who just learned the word "no" for the first time–extremely easy to manipulate.

Next thing you know E. Gadd is sending out a distress call. His entire collection of malicious ghosts is free again, and who should be the culprit behind it all but the gooey green clone that... from what little E. Gadd can understand... somehow managed to be possessed by King Boo! (which is weird because he thought fore sure he installed a failsafe that ensured Gooigi couldn't get possessed by ghosts)

So Luigi's new mission is to capture the released ghosts and bring back Gooigi so that E. Gadd can figure out what went wrong. But the thing is Luigi is a little bit more emotionally intuitive than E. Gadd, and over the course of his missions he begins to realize there's more going on with Gooigi than he was initially led to believe.

[pandafruit]

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

[ryuichirou]

Replies

But also some news!

First of all, I wanted to remind you that my pricelist will be updated by the end of the week, so please feel free to message me if you want to take a slot to commission me with my current prices!

Second of all, we got our twitter account back! We ended up deleting that one post that twitter didn’t like (yes, the one that doesn’t have anything explicit or any nudity on it), which obviously sucks, but at least now we can jump back to posting more or less regularly.

And now that this situation is over, I can say about the thing that honestly tickled me: the last person who wrote a callout post on me right before our acc got locked (=the person who very likely caused the massreporting in the first place) got accused of grooming a 13 y.o. and had their account terminated the very next day. What a great illustration of how the fandom climate works, right? Hilarious.

Alright, replies replies. Some about Fellow and Gidel, some about Rook, Idia, a little bit of Lilia and some miscellaneous asks.

Anonymous asked:

wait, Fellow is it a good idea for Gidel to write?? Isn't he illiterate?? (I might be wrong on the writing part, but I'm pretty sure Gidel is said to be unable to speak because he didn't get an education :(, r.i.p to the poor boy)

But look at it, Anon! He clearly writes, and like a typical doctor as well! A highly educated man!

(Yeah, Gidel doesn’t know how to write lol I am not sure if Fellow is super literate either… just like the characters they are inspired by lol)

Anonymous asked:

I want to bite Idia’s thighs but I also want to nibble Lilia’s legs courtesy of your pic of him in those delicious Playful Land tights 😩

(this is about a sketch from ko-fi)

They really are nibbleable… nibbable… one would want to nib on them. And Lilia knows that :(

Thank you <3

irregardlessly-tish asked:

Since you started posting Fellow art I said to myself "I guess I'm watching that event now so I can look at the art and think yeah, he would totally get gang banged by them" lol

Tish! You’re great as always lol I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Fellow is so breedable it’s insane. I can’t help it.

unofficialwheatdog asked:

I'm gonna snatch Fellow away from everyone

Like that my husband, he fluffiness mine and mine alone

Mwah mwah to Fellow I wove him and the way you draw him

he's too good for them but ruined enough for me(lol me in my possessive era)

Omg real possessive era lol I get it, he really is fluffy to the point of leaving one speechless. But please understand, these boys can’t hold back at all… :( Be kinder them, they can’t help it!

I’m glad you love how I draw him <3

Anonymous asked:

Curious, u do non con/ rape art?

Pls tag if yes, I wanna see

I do, but I also don’t remember any recent noncon piece to tag anything lol I am definitely not opposed to it, and a lot of our nsfw pieces have at least dub-con vibes. I guess that one general!Lilia/Idia piece comes to mind first! And octopus!Azul/Idia that I drew for the same zine…

Maybe it would be easier to look through my pixiv logs; all the nsfw pieces are usually closer to the end of the log.

Anonymous asked:

You know I never had interest in drawing nsfw, I started a fanart blog with the intent of just making cute/cool sfw pieces maybe some ship stuff. However I am sick and tired of watching the twst fandom affect the mental health of my friends. And I know at least one of my ships will be threatened even if they just hold hands.

So here’s my plan: if I start receiving hate I will make an announcement: if I reach a particular milestone of hate I will learn to draw nsfw. I will make them kiss harder. Harass me and I will become worse.

Fr tho I want to be the brave idiot in the hope that others won’t feel alone.

Sorry for the late reply! Anon, you are already brave lol I like your plan. Become worse to spite them! And to support everyone who is harassed. And to have fun of course.

I wish you and your friends and anyone else didn’t have to worry about being harassed because of your ships. So please, take care of yourself, but also? Fuck them; draw and post whatever you want to make yourself and your friends happier and enjoy the fandom experience that you and your friends create.

Anonymous asked:

"something's missing..." might be your shirt rook, idk tho 🤔

(this is about this drawing)

Oh no, he forgot his shirt again. And no one at Savanaclaw is brave enough to tell him.

Anonymous asked:

 I remember that Savannaclaw Rook only cut his hair with a knife, soooo, yeah. How do you think first year Rook would respond to first year Idia and vice versa?

Honestly it looks like it lol He and Lilia have something in common…

We love first year Rook with first year Idia so much, Anon, you have no idea! And Rook/Idia in general, this is one of the things that I really want to draw properly at least once. For now we only have sketches…

But to answer your question! I like to think that Rook was very intrigued by Idia right away; of course Idia isn’t a beastman, but he is not only super bright and shiny-looking (unusual! Interesting!), but also is a very rare pokemon to see. It’s very easy to picture Rook getting excited and charmed by him, maybe he even had a period of a little obsession~ But of course none of this is in any way returned by Idia; to him being suddenly surrounded by so many loud and annoying people his age is already stressful enough, but Rook is somehow worse than all of them combined. He hates everyone from Savanaclaw, but they’re usually just rude jerks, but Rook? If only he was a rude jerk…

Anonymous asked:

Chen’ya, are you flashing people on purpose? What are you gonna do if someone likes it?

(related to this post)

Knowing Che’nya, he’ll probably disappear lol Never let them guess your next move. They liked it? Too bad. They didn’t like it? Oh too bad… >:3

Sometimes he is in a flirty mood though~

Anonymous asked:

I’m surprised Lilia doesn’t also spank Idia to punish him

He really should, and his spanks wouldn’t be as murderous as Azul’s! Idia is going to receive punishment AND survive!

I can picture Lilia stopping mid-spank with the realisation though: oh right, this isn’t his kid, this is Idia…

Anonymous asked:

(tw: self-harm)

this might be a bit dark but i’m curious: do you think idia self-harms? every now and then, i see ppl draw him with SH scars. i’ve never been able to decide if it feels like him or not. punishing himself, hating himself, wanting to control this one aspect of his life bc he can’t control anything else sound like idia, but also, being too resigned, lazy, or phobic of pain also sound like idia… little nutjob he is 😒 thoughts?

This is such a good question, Anon. It’s honestly still kind of easy to imagine him doing that. He punishes himself constantly, and while I don’t think this is necessarily about control, this absolutely could be about wanting to make himself feel even worse or to distract himself from the other kind of deep pain he’s feeling. Since we’re talking about a character here, as an artist I can also add that seeing him this way could be aesthetically pleasing, there are some very good artworks with this theme.

That being said, we usually tend to think that Idia wouldn’t do that. I agree that Idia being phobic of pain sounds very like him, but also? He is very detached from the physical side of things in general, I think. He would rather torment himself mentally.

Another reason for Idia and selfharm not really working in our heads is that I don’t think Ortho would let him. He is very sensitive to changes in his health condition after all.

[minimoefoe]

Rewatch Thoughts: Rogue

I wish the ep started with 15 and Ruby showing up and seeing everyone dancing and being excited, kinda like Donna and 10 Unicorn and the Wasp vibes, rather than them already being in there idk

It’s a very difficult cheese lmao I like that little scene a lot

The fact Ruby sees Susan Twist yet again and doesn’t mention it to the Doctor at any point. They had other shit going on tbf nvm

‘Faster mover’ lmao. I like the Doctor’s vibe when he says that. Like he’s actually a bit shook by the fast moving. It’s more Doctor-y than the overt flirting in the rest of the ep.

Why would Rogue think that the Doctor was a Chulder when he’s been speaking like he’s from the future or whatever. If he WAS a Chulder don’t you think he would be playing pretend as a person from 1813. Not talking about the fuckin stars

Genuinely don’t see how ppl have said they’ve seen a gay vibe between Ruby and Emily. ur waffling sorry

I’m choosing to believe 15 doesn’t like being called Doc bc it makes him think of Graham and that makes him sad but tbh I do think 13 found Graham annoying sometimes so.. Maybe it reminds him of him in a bad way 😭

15 upping the Scottish accent and mocking Rogue’s American accent earlier lol

Shoutout to Kylie Minogue

15 being flustered over the psychic paper. Also 10/10 very Doctor-y 

New boss.. So Rogue is the Meep’s co-worker then. I wonder if whenever we meet the Boss they’ll make a reference to a person who ‘worked for them but disappeared’ aka Rogue

All the faces !!!!!

I feel nothing about Richard E Grant being there other than I know I don’t consider him in any part of the Doctor canon of my mind but I hope other ppl have fun arguing about where he should be in the timelines

The way Ruby awkwardly said ‘ah.. right’ after Emily told her who she wanted to marry made me think of Charlotte Ritchie in BBC Ghosts

15 singing before entering the TARDIS was a bit cringe

Rogue kinda is Jack just less whore-y and more romantic yknow

15’s solution to not killing the bird ppl being to send them to a barren dimension is sooooo funny like king you realise why that’s actually worse than killing right😭Unless we’re supposed to assume they can survive fine in this barren dimension? But the Doctor clearly sees it as a punishment when he thinks they’ve killed Ruby so presumably not

Rogue is very pretty I fear

I like that Rogue uses ‘they’ to refer to the person he lost idk why

‘I know the word OK’, Emily is so funny

The proposal making 15 actually freak out a bit and forget he’s acting lmfao

The Chulder’s actually using the word cosplay makes me cringe a bit. I think it would've been better if ‘cosplay’ was just the word the Doctor uses to explain what they do

On first watch it was literally right as Ruby told Emily that she was from the future that I realised Emily was one of them

Ruby not actually getting got is cool but like that scene literally shows the lightning and we hear her screaming but then in the flashback to what actually happened neither of those things happen so them putting it in the initial scene feels like a shit/lazy way of trying to hide the fact it was gonna be revealed that she was pretending all along when they coulda made it so that we the audience know she’s fine bc we don’t see the telltale Chulder bodyswap signs but the Doctor thinks she’s dead. Very strange imo

Been obsessed with the way the Duchess shouts ‘the wedding’ since I first saw it in a  trailer icl

That scene with Carla feels so out of place and tbh random bc like. This is the second time Ruby has almost died in an ep so surely we shoulda seen that flashback the FIRST time it happened not now

15 loves a cry and idk how I feel about it

Other than the non-Doctor-y flirting I think this is the most Doctor-y 15 has felt to me

Did Rogue really have to replace Ruby? He literally just shoved her off? Surely he coulda just stood at the side of the triangle and pulled her out of it instead? Or are we saying that once it’s prepped for 6 ppl then it won’t leave without 6 on it? Bc I don’t think they make that clear in the episode at all

This episode is sooooo Maxine Alderton in 13’s era coded to me in that it’s an ep where the writing, other than the couple of choices I don’t love, just overall feels much tighter than the rest of the eps in the series have been like I feel like I can tell the difference 

I love 15 and Rogue’s dynamic but I really wish 15 was more awkward in his attraction to Rogue. He was far too suggestive and direct imo, it didn’t always feel like the most Doctor-y thing ever. Like he may be 'healed' (whatever that even means) but he's still the DOCTOR

Overall a banger. 4.5/5. I think this is the first ep this season  where I’ve rated it a bit higher after rewatch

[cattimeswithjellie]

Stream Recap, Skizzleman, 6/11/24

((Skizz streams are always funny, but if you want to watch any single part of this stream, check out Skizz's digging around 2:11:00. Poor Chat. Fans of HotGuy and Cuteguy may also want to check out the shout-out around 24:00.))

05:40 Skizz opens the stream. He is dancing to the music and tells everyone he’s doing StreamBeats on Spotify. He logs into Hermitcraft, inside his base. Today’s snack is blueberries, because his energy was running a little low. He thanks subs and donos. A chatter says that Jono is mixing the Poe Poe song, Skizz thinks that is awesome. Yesterday’s stream start was one of the craziest of all times. Skizz does have a plan for today! After stream, he’s going to _chill._ Yesterday was a long day, streaming and prepping today’s new video. First on today’s agenda is recording a bit about the guide for the volcano.

9:20 Skizz talks about the podcast this week. They haven’t even filmed it yet. Impulse was sick and needed extra time, so tomorrow Skizz goes to work for some intense and specific training and a long work day, then they will record the podcast and then he has to get it turned around by Friday. It’s going to be intense. Skizz thanks a dono and massacres the username. He thanks more subs.

11:45 Skizz sets up to record, adjusting his game sounds. Chat has an argument about the pronunciation of “pthalo.�� Skizz confirms he will NOT be going into Tango’s hole today. Skizz is very disappointed in whoever invented the pronunciation of “phthalo,” obviously someone who hates human lips.

14:20 Skizz begins recording his bit. He says that what just happened is cool and fun (he is not telling chat what the previous bit was) but that he’s not going to stop until he gets the Mission Possible Hat. He flies to MP HQ and gets a new MP mission. It is “Do a good deed for a Hermit without them noticing and without taking credit.” Skizz says this is right up his alley, but he needs to think about it. He jokes that because he is a Hermit, he could do a good deed for himself and get the reward, right? No, he won’t do that, he’ll do it right. He ends the recording and asks chat about who he should do a nice thing for.

16:30 Skizz lands in the eye of Gem’s base and thinks about what to do. Someone suggests restocking a shop. Skizz laughs and says maybe he should put all the glowberries back (referring to his Mission Possible deed from his last episode, where he bought out Joel’s glowberry shop). Scar signs on and says he has Skizz’s new bow. Skizz is excited and goes to find Scar. He starts at his own base, which is crawling with hostile mobs, and considers spawnproofing it for Scar’s sake. He doesn’t, instead taking off again to search. When a quick aerial search is unrevealing, he goes into his base to sleep. As he arrives back at the base, the Poe Poe song plays outside, then the “Trader Scar’s definitely not going to eat you” horn. Skizz goes outside and finds Scar.

18:20 Skizz tells Scar that Jono is remixing the Poe Poe song. Scar says he is watching Jono live on his other monitor as they speak. Scar gives Skizz an enchanted bow called “FailGuy.” Skizz tells Scar he hates him so much. Scar laughs. Skizz looks at the bow and notes that it is fully enchanted. He sighs and asks what he needs to do to earn the right to rename the bow. Scar says there can be no renaming of this bow, it will be FailGuy until it breaks. He suggests that Skizz should get out there and start shooting a lot of FailGuy arrows. Skizz agrees reluctantly. Scar reminds Skizz that all he really needs to do is believe in himself and use that space bar. Skizz insists that he used spacebar and also fired 700 rockets, it’s right there in his footage. He tells Scar to look at the bloopers from his new episode, both for proof and because they were incredibly funny.

20:00 Scar says people on Twitter are accusing him of diamond ore theft, but he is an innocent bystandard. Bystander, Skizz corrects. Scar doesn’t understand, but he is innocent. He doesn’t want any trouble with the GOAT himself, but he is having a wonderful time watching Doc rage. Skizz asks what kind of ore was taken, from where. Scar says someone is taking the ore from Doc’s fashion shop and replacing it. Doc is on Twitter, making accusations and threatening vagueposts about trains. Scar, as a train owner, is feeling very threatened. Skizz asks how much diamond ore has been taken. Scar says like two pieces. Skizz is baffled that Doc is so upset about two pieces of ore. He doesn’t know what fashion shop Scar is talking about, so Scar takes him on a field trip that may involve murder with Skizz’s new bow. They decide to get in a chat group along the way.

22:00 Scar and Skizz take a quick detour to try and kill Impulse with the new bow. They go down into Impulse’s metro system and fly around the cyberpunk city but don’t find him. Scar calls Xisuma “Dipple-dee-doppers.” They say he must be hiding. Scar says they should shoot Xisuma for hoarding the End and keeping people from harvesting XP there. ((Xisuma has been moving mobs via the End Portal and asking other Hermits to stay away.)) Skizz asks whether Scar knows about the Bop N Go. Scar says he just used it, and he likes the music.

24:00 Skizz and Scar abandon the hunt for Impulse. Scar says Impulse must be afraid of the power of the HotGuy and the FailGuy. He wishes that they could get CuteGuy onto the server so they could have the full set. Skizz protests that he is a cute guy. Scar tells him very definitively that he’s not CuteGuy, that’s Grian. Skizz points out that he used to be SpyGuy, and that was cool, and then his _buddy_ _murdered_ him and named him FailGuy. Scar leads him to the armor trim shop and points out the two missing bits of diamond ore, one on the surface and one inside the guts of the redstone. Scar noticed the second bit of missing redstone during a livestream, before Doc actually noticed it, but he did not take it. ((Scar says it was Tango’s stream, but it was Ren’s livestream.)) Scar is disgusted that Doc has a diamond boring machine and still gets so upset about two ore.

25:30 Scar is distracted from Doc’s problems by how much he still wants to kill Impulse. He insists that he sees Impulse and takes off, followed by Skizz who demands to know what kind of eyes he has. Scar insists he is HotGuy! Scar races around the shopping district, followed by Skizz, but they do not find Impulse. They do hear Joel’s honey song and are baffled by it before resuming the chase. It is unclear whether Scar actually saw Impulse at all, or if it was a mirage, or if Scar is deliberately toying with Skizz. Scar looks up Impulse’s coords but he doesn’t seem to be there. Skizz begins taking potshots at Scar, who doesn’t notice. Skizz goes home to sleep.

29:40 Skizz gives up the chase and goes to Bop ‘n Go to repair his elytra. Scar makes a difficult shot to hit Skizz while he’s bopping. Scar tells Skizz that if he does something Scar deems truly admirable, he can change the name of the FailGuy bow. Skiss promises he will do so. They shoot at each other a few more times and Scar leaves.

31:00 Skizz decides his good deed will be to replace Doc’s diamond ore. Chat doesn’t like Skizz calling Doc Doccy because that is what Doc calls his child and it is confusing everyone. Skizz does not read chat and doesn’t notice. He admits this is not really a selfless act, it’s a nice thing but it’s so he can get his token. He heads back to the armor shop. He replaces the outer block and, leery of entering the machine itself, stacks up two more ore to replace the other missing blocks. Good deed done, no credit taken! Skizz goes to collect his token.

34:10 Skizz needs two tokens to spin for the MP prize he wants (the helicopter beanie cap), so he needs another task. He turns in his task and gets one token, then collects his new task. He receives the task “create a big present at another Hermit’s base, sign it, wish them happy birthday, and put something useless inside.” He instantly recognizes this as the task Stress got and performed on him months ago now. Chat is amused. Skizz is going to think of something fantastic for this task. He unpauses his chat alerts and demands Chat tell him the most useless item in Minecraft. Chat has lots of ideas, but Skizz likes the poison potato best.

36:00 Skizz starts looking through his chest monster for useless things. He gets excited when he remembers the retextured “Diamond” stick that has been in his ender chest for a long time now. It is the perfect gift, but who to give it to? Skizz starts looking for the packaging blocks Stress used for the original present. Chat points out that it’s actually Pearl’s birthday.

38:30 Skizz reads a dono from chat and takes a contemplative sip of coffee. It is from the wrong cup and is his cold nasty coffee from the morning. He is unhappy. He tells Chat he is not going to give Pearl a fake present on her real birthday. He finds the pink concrete from Stress and gathers up some cherry leaves as well. He thinks about making a Russian nesting doll style present, unwrapped in layers. He can’t find any items frames so he steals some from his Poe Poe kit. Considering how terrible his organizational system is, Skizz knows where a surprising number of items are.

42:00 Skizz decides Grian gets the present. There’s a nice flat space right in front of his base. He builds a 9x9x9 box of cherry leaves and quizzes Chat on what memory he’s evoking here. Chat guesses the Heart Foundation. He asks Chat if they notice how slow he is moving. It is because his buddies killed him in the Void and he lost his Swift Sneak pants.

45:00 Skizz responds to a request from chat for the Skizzlefarts song, in honor of a chatter’s sister who had surgery and cannot leave the hospital before passing gas. Chat is very supportive. During the song, Skizz returns to his base and collects more cherry leaves, then starts the second inner layer. Chat begins telling him to eat.

49:00 The song ends. Chat has strong feelings about Skizz not building the inner box off the ground. Skizz does not care, but he does satisfy Chat by eating. He places the item frame and the fake diamond, then goes to sleep. In the morning, finishes the box and goes to put the sign up, only to realize he put it back in the chest when he collected the cherry leaves. He returns to base for the sign, then closes the boxes and adds the ribbon. He is just complimenting himself on his Guess-the-Build boosted skills when he runs out of concrete. Chat knows he has more concrete in his base and Skizz actually looks at chat to see it. Victorious, he finishes the ribbon, then adds a bow. The bow takes awhile.

58:30 Skizz adds the sign and calls it good. He does not sign it. Chat reminds him he must sign it to complete the mission. He says he’s not going to sign it. Chat scolds him. He reads the mission again and returns to sign his name to the present.

1:01:20 Skizz explains Mission Possible to Chat while he sleeps through the night and heads for the Shopping district. He receives his tokens and spends them on a skin. He is disappointed to receive the arrow hat. He feels better when he realizes it is a hat that makes it look like there’s an arrow through his head. He decides to head back to work, but thanks subs and donos first.

1:04:50 Skizz flies from the shopping district to the top of Magic Mountain and tells chat he wants to make a quad beacon for digging, or a “queacon.” He flies immediately back to the shopping district for more iron. As he flies, he plugs his new channel, ShorterSkizz. The channel is his daughter’s summer project because she cannot work during ACL recovery. Chat is excited and begins subbing, competing for early sub numbers.

1:07:00 Skizz arrives back at the shopping district and tries to figure out how many iron blocks he needs. Sub numbers have climbed from 15 to about 400. A chatter suggests he needs to hire Jimmy for a 700 subscribers special. Skizz likes that idea and puts a velcro bag on his head to stand in for Young Jimmy’s hair from his subscriber special. He decides he needs “ a lot” of iron, and buys three and a half stacks of iron. He decides that’s not enough and tops up to six stacks.

1:13:00 Skizz heads back for the mountain, thanking subs and donos. ShorterSkizz cracks 700 subs. Skizz stops on top of the pyramid and thanks everyone with his best teenage Jimmy impression. Chat is pleased. Skizz tells Jimmy, if he sees this, that he loves him and explains the bit. He makes sure that someone clipped that so Jimmy can see it.

1:15:40 Skizz grabs his shovel and heads for the mountain for real. Chat begins reminding him to eat. He does a shoutout to his buddy MKBean who is helping with the new channel, then scouts out a spot for the beacon, digging straight down. He sees the opening into the cave and falls in anyway, but does not die.

1:19:30 Skizz pauses to read out a dono that suggests he should buy a keyboard with a working space bar. Skizz demands affirmation from chat that they saw his episode and that he really tried to get out of the void. Chat is supportive, to a point. Skizz continues digging down and notes that he didn’t even bring a weapon on this jaunt. He arrives in the largest part of the underground caverns and realizes he went off by one while digging the beacon hole. He fixes the mistake with another hole, realizes it is nighttime and that he didn’t bring a bed. He goes home.

1:24:00 Skizz jumps back down the beacon hole and goes to fix his mistake hole, then changes his mind and decides not to. He digs down deeper instead, then goes home again to get torches and a weapon. He thanks donos and subs, and seeks more affirmation from chat about his death in the void. A chatter tells him that nice things happened last night on the channel he raided into. Skizz is happy. He talks about how funny Jimmy was in the 700 subscriber video. Skizz cannot find his sword.

1:29:00 Skizz searches his chest monster for the sword and does not find it. He says he’s tried to organize his chests onstream a million times only for Chat to tell him not to do it because it’s boring, then admits that the opposite is true and chat has basically begged him to do an organizing stream. He won’t though, because it’s bad content. It’s much better to watch him search the chest monster a million times. He realizes he might have lost it in the void. He makes a new diamond sword and heads for the Shopping district for books. He remembers suddenly that he had Looting on that sword and that somehow motivates him to turn around and search harder.

1:30:50 Skizz finds his sword outside the Pyramid and then starts searching for torches. He organizes his inventory a bit and makes torches. He collects more rockets and heads back into the mountain.

Chat reminds him he forgot his bed and the beacon, but it is too late.

1:33:00 Skizz digs a bigger hole in the mountain. He digs down to about 10 and fights a creeper, then lights a little cavern he finds. He eats and provides some birthday you-yos, then decides whether to go down further. He places more torches and argues with himself. He digs down some more and lights another cave full of mobs.

1:42:00 Skizz realizes he has lost track of the hole he dug. He finds it after a couple minutes of searching and begins placing the beacon. A chatter asks if he has forgotten the ways of the skompass. He figures out what the dimensions of the beacon need to be and starts throwing down iron. He explains how one chatter has taken responsibility to be master of dad jokes and now Skizz looks forward to them. Chat provides additional dad jokes. Skizz plays the bop song and builds.

1:51:30 Skizz is very pumped about Jono remixing the Poe Poe song. The beacon is partway built now and growing fast. He realizes that he will need to buy some beacons, and that it might have made sense to do that before jumping down this hole. He finishes the beacon base, including four extra blocks where the beacons themselves should go, and heads out to get some beacons. Chat tries to explain that he needs to remove the top four blocks.

1:56:00 Skizz flies to the shopping district and visits the beacon shop. He stares at the enormous BEACONS sign and asks chat where the beacons are. Chat mocks him. He purchases four beacons and heads back to the mountain. Skizz parks himself on top of the mountain, tells Chat not to let him die, and plays the Skizzlefarts song again while he takes a bathroom break.

2:00:20 Skizz returns, miraculously unkilled. He opens the hole wide enough for a 2x2 beacon light and breaks the netherrack pole he’d used to survey the mountain. With everything prepared, he dives back down the hole and places the beacons on the iron blocks he should have removed. The beacon does not light. He removes the beacons, removes the blocks, and places the beacons in the correct place. They light successfully. Skizz goes to find some pink glass.

2:06 Skizz heads for the shopping district and visits the glass shop. He buys a stack of pink glass and goes to get some iron. Chat reminds him he has iron. He heads for the mountain and empinkens the beacon, then activates it with Haste 2, Jump Boost, Speed, Resistance and Regen. He decides he needs to make a safe drop to let him get down without dying.

2:11:00 Skizz admires the work he has done for the mountain crew. He contemplates a top-level control room that will activate different beacons under the mountain, but that’s for another day. He tries to take advantage of the new beacon to dig some dirt on the mountain, but has little success because he is trying to dig with his axe. Frustrated, he announces that his spoon SUCKS. Chat is beside themselves. He somehow misses the hundred chatters telling him he was holding an axe to zero in on the one who assures him that grass is slower to mine than dirt. Skizz flies around a little and admires the beacon, then heads back to his base for a better shovel. He finally realizes he was using the axe. He immediately flies back to Magic Mountain to test out his actual shovel. It works very well.

2:15:20 Skizz begins reorganizing the chests on Magic Mountain to facilitate digging, setting the storage chests outside the digging perimeter. Chat suggests putting an S on the ground and calling it Skizz Mountain. He flies back home to sleep, then realizes there was a bed on top of the mountain. He thanks subs and donos again. He tries to eat a rocket. After several more birthday you-yos, it’s back to the mountain for more organizing. Skizz has great sympathy for the very confused pen of sheep on top of the mountain.

2:19:45 Skizz finds a sign that says “omg, it’s a dark oak tree!” He laughs, confused, but does not remove it. He finishes moving the chests and organizing them. Chat reminds him how nice it feels to organize and suggests maybe he could do that at his base. Skizz hopes that this will make excavation a little more enjoyable for everybody.

2:24:15 Skizz leads by example with an arrow in his head, beginning the digging himself. He digs about ten dirt blocks and declares himself exhausted. He digs some more, then realizes he just wants to use TNT again. They probably will use TNT again, but this is a good way to put a teeny little dent in the amount of work yet to be done. A group TNT day would be a very fun group recording day for Magic Mountain. TNT is unpredictable but very fast!

2:27:00 Skizz digs dirt, sleeps, and interacts with chat. A chatter tells him a joke. He gathers up a lot more dirt, then stops because he does not want to ruin the glorious TNT day. He notices a chest and bed on top of the mountain and investigates, but the chest is empty. He destroys it. All his dirt goes into the storage chests. He’s way into the TNT date idea now.

2:32:00 Skizz decides to call the stream a little early today. Yesterday he was super busy and last night he didn’t sleep well. Today was long and he needs some sun before it gets dark. Chat advises Skizz to touch grass. He returns to his base and says goodbye to chat. He raids into “Coach” Jojosolos and ends his stream.