#the most fruity tea you will ever drink

[anadiilua]

I need a drodcast so Dream can tell us all the LA tea

[1d1195]

Zipper

Hi hi, sorry for the short break there. I've been working on this the last three days and it flowed out quite quickly to 9.5K words.

Warnings: Harry doesn't like her (or does he), there's a damsel in distress scene implying SA nothing happens nor described but could be triggering, "enemies" trope, Harry wears a lot of suits and is angry a lot.

Disclaimer: Everything I know about lawyers comes from TV shows.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

So, he pretended he didn’t. “You and Harry are together an awful lot,” his friend Niall said to her with a smirk once. They were in clear earshot of Harry, and nothing made Harry crankier than knowing his friends saw how mean he was toward her. It was the topic of many conversations over video games and while working out at the gym.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

“Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

“He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Harry hated her. She could never figure out why. She and Gemma were on the same soccer team growing up, so she’s known Harry for forever. Because she and Harry were of the same caliber in school (and the same age), they were always in each other’s classes. Always in group projects together.

It made her wildly popular in school to know the one and only Harry Styles so closely—and she did. She knew he wouldn’t drink tea past four in the afternoon. He liked chocolate candy better than fruity candy. Any time he saw a dog while they were on their way to study together, he would dig a bag of little treats out of his backpack to give away. When his left eye got droopy it meant they had to take a break and she would always recommend some hot chocolate or lemonade (depending on the season) at the coffee shop near the town library.

However, their conversations never delved too deeply. She knew his birthday but not his favorite color—she suspected it was blue or maybe orange because most of his pens were blue and his highlighters were almost always orange. Of course, she knew Gemma and Anne, but she didn’t know what their relationship with Harry was like. Because of school, she knew most of his political opinions—and big shocker, they were roughly the same as hers—but she didn’t know his favorite music or if he liked to sleep with a fan on or not. When he was sick, she didn’t know if he liked sleep or soup. If it was his last day on earth, she doesn’t know how he would spend it. They weren’t things that she necessarily needed to know to define their friendship, but somehow, in her eyes, they were.

Other than school mandated projects, she was convinced Harry wouldn’t give her the time of day. “Can we jus’ get this over with?” Was Harry’s mantra around her during their school days.

She wished they could be friends.

She didn’t want to be that girl, but it was impossible not to be. Harry was beautiful and he was nice—just not very nice to her. She didn’t fault him for it, she wasn’t his cup of tea and that was fine. The way other girls sighed and ahh-ed over him made her jealous. She couldn’t do that. Harry was Gemma’s brother and her peer and that was it.

Needless to say, their lives were clearly going to be attached for the rest of their lives. They were like a coat zipper. They met when they were young and as they slid the zipper to the top more pieces of their life meshed. At first it was soccer with Gemma, then it was school in general, projects and friend groups, and now it was university.

Of course, they were going to get degrees in history and law.

Of course, they would have classes together.

Of course, Harry would be at every party she was invited to.

She knocked on the door to the party her friends were invited to, and she waited as the door opened. “God you’re everywhere,” he muttered taking a swig of the drink in his hand. He opened the door wider to allow her and her friends in and walked away without mingling a moment longer. She sighed and stepped through the threshold while her friends filed in behind her.

“You know Harry?” One of her friends gasped.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Grew up together,” she said heading for the kitchen to get a drink. There was a barrage of questioning. The interrogation of how well she knew him, if he was single—he was, as far as she knew—and so on. “He doesn’t like me much,” she shrugged.

“Shut up,” her friend said. “He likes everyone.”

“I’m not sure what to tell you. I’m not everyone.”

They were kind enough to let the conversation drop. But their eyes darted back forth between the two of them whenever they were remotely in the same realm as one another. Harry was never outrightly mean to her. He never made fun of her and never talked ill of her. They talked about school projects and assignments and classes and that was it.

Harry’s friends all really liked her. Of course, they liked her. There wasn’t anything to dislike about her. She was brilliant, incredibly kind, and naturally nurturing. It made Harry nauseous most of the time. He hated she could be so kind all the time—even when he was a dick to her. It made it all the harder for him to not like her.

*

It was halfway through the semester when her phone vibrated with a message from Harry. She could feel the confusion wrinkling her face as she brought the phone closer to her face as if it was a trick. Harry never texted her. If there was a school project that needed doing, he was highly professional and would only email her. The only reason she had his number was because Gemma gave it to her when her phone was broken, and she was her ride to their soccer tournaments.

Could you read my essay?

Surely this was a trick. She couldn’t help but ask. Really?

Yeah. The response was immediate. Obviously, nothing special. She could practically feel his annoyance through his text bubble.

Sure.

Thanks. Conclusion needs work, I know.

The conclusion may have needed work, but it was a pretty good essay otherwise. A few grammatical errors and a rewording of a paragraph or two and his essay was finished. She didn’t question why Harry asked her. Surely, he had plenty of friends that would be willing to read it over.

His seeking her out was quite the surprise to her, but to Harry it made the most sense. At some point in time, maybe in year ten, he realized that he was probably stuck with her for a good long while. There was no denying she was smart—in fact, Harry thought she was brilliant. Probably smarter than him on any given day. And again, that agonizing kindness made him sick. He knew she would read his essay because she was so nice. If Harry acted the way he did to anyone else but her, they wouldn’t give him the time of day.

But he also didn’t trust anyone else in the world to read his work and know what it needed like she did.

She took all the essay reading to mean it was okay to ask him for school favors as well.

Do you have notes from the history lecture yesterday? I wasn’t feeling well.

I’ll email them to you.

Thank you.

Harry took good notes. She wouldn’t have asked anyone but Harry because she knew they took notes the same way. Of course, they did. If anything, his notes were neater because he typed just as fast as their professor spoke while she preferred to handwrite so she would remember better.

Do you know what our professor meant by this?

She sent him back a picture of her own notes with a marking around the part that Harry was referring to. This was my interpretation, but I emailed him to double check, I’ll let you know what he says.

Thanks.

Harry looked at her notes on his phone again and admired her handwriting. He doesn’t know how she was able to write so much so quickly during their lectures. He saw her shake her hand out every time their professor paused to answer a question or catch a breath. She had pretty handwriting.

*

The parties they attended together (not on purpose, just by happenstance) were when Harry was at his meanest. He would roll his eyes at her if she was part of a drinking game. Harry’s eyes shot daggers whenever any guy tried speaking with her, always there to remind her of some project they had to do, and he didn’t want to be stuck doing it himself. None of it clicked to her that he was jealous.

Of course, he was. She was the prettiest and nicest girl he knew, and he was mad.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

So, he pretended he didn’t. “You and Harry are together an awful lot,” his friend Niall said to her with a smirk once. They were in clear earshot of Harry, and nothing made Harry crankier than knowing his friends saw how mean he was toward her. It was the topic of many conversations over video games and while working out at the gym.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

That stung, made her face warm in embarrassment, but it was partly true. They were practically stuck together. Zipped together by some life force. “Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

She shrugged it off. It would make sense, he talked about her so much. Other than her roommate she probably saw Harry more than her own family. “He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

*

Gem suggested I ask if we could carpool home. Save her a trip.

Yeah, of course.

Thanks.

“Do you like her?” Niall asked Harry. “Like, she’s really nice and pretty. Obviously, she’s very smart so—"

He cleared his throat to hide the gasp that nearly left his lips. “What?” He asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket. They were at the library whispering to each other while studying for finals. He could see her in the back corner, headphones in her ears and answering his message almost as soon as he sent it. He was certain she would ace all her exams, no problem at all.

“Your friend from home,” he tilted his head to the girl in the corner. “Do you like her?” He repeated.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

Niall quirked an eyebrow at him. “S’weird...you’re kind of perfect for each other.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. He wanted no part of it. Sure, she was nice and sweet, and in the right light Harry couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by how pretty she was. But he didn’t want to be with someone he’d known his whole life. He wanted someone he didn’t know—someone that didn’t know his every thought. He wanted to discover a new relationship where he would find someone that didn’t know everything there was to know about him.

Regardless, if he knew all too well that she would be perfect for him.

*A few years later*

“This will be your office,” the sweet secretary informed her. She wasn’t a young secretary, but she wasn’t old either. Somewhere in the middle—she reminded her of her mom and that eased her worry of her new job fresh out of school. “I heard you know your office neighbor here. He gave you a glowing recommendation saying “the bosses would be fools to not hire you” I believe was how he phrased it. They’re all very excited to have you on board.”

She blinked, setting her box down of trinkets she collected ready to have her first big job. A list of clients sat on her desk. She was ready to get started—eager even. Excited and nervous all at once. The box of trinkets would make her office homier and she started setting out the calendar and picture frames as she shook her head at the woman helping her get the lay of the land. “That can’t be right, my professors did my recommendations...I can’t imagine my professors saying that about me,” she chuckled nervously. “I think they liked me and all but—”

“No, no!” She interrupted with a giggle. “Pardon me, one of your references, Harry; Harry Styles,” she smirked.

Blinking in surprise, she felt her lips part in a breathless gasp. She had asked Harry as a parting gift of sorts if he’d be willing to be a reference for her on her job applications. “I don’t think anyone really knows my work ethic the way you do,” she admitted. “I understand if you don’t want to, I’d be willing to be a reference for you as well either—”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “No problem. That’s probably a good idea. Thank you.”

“Harry works here?” She asked, completely dumbfounded. She shouldn’t have been. She should have known of all the gin joints. Her heart pounded and the air in the room felt thin. When she had sent her applications and resumes out to every firm in the area, she didn’t dream that she would still be side by side with Harry. There were easily fifty or so firms in the city. There was no way the length of their lives on this zipper extended to work post-graduation.

“I thought that was why you applied here. Harry made it seem like you both—”

“Hi,” speak of the devil. She wanted to know the end of that sentence. The idea that Harry made it seem like anything was between them—friendship, collegiate respect, anything—seemed paradoxical.

But here he was in all his brilliant and handsome glory.

Harry looked effortlessly beautiful and nearly seductive standing in her office doorway. He was wearing a suit, but it looked like it was nearly painted on him—hugging each of his defined arms and seemed to stretch perfectly over his long legs. Throughout their schooling and university, she wondered when he had time to hit the gym because he didn’t go while she walked on the treadmill and read her textbooks—the one time the zipper of life skipped over their meeting. But it was obvious he had found time. Again, she wasn’t immune to his good looks and persona. She had seen him be nice and lovely to everyone he knew time and time again.

Just not her.

His hair was styled just so, and she could practically see the sweet secretary swooning at the sight of him. “Welcome,” he said. He looked like a kid to her. As if his mom told him to say hi and wish her a happy birthday or something even though he didn’t want to. He smiled weakly at her. It felt forced.

“Hi,” she answered, still in shock.

He nodded at her and left without another word. “He’s dreamy,” she said with an all too familiar sigh. “I don’t know how anyone gets any work done around here.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe he works here.”

“I completely assumed he told you about the position...His friend is one of the senior partners,” she shrugged. “Louis?” She said. “I think Louis’ younger sister knows of you both or something.” She tilted her head at the woman. “I know everything,” she shrugged.

“You sure do,” she smirked. “Uh...no, I didn’t know Harry worked here.”

“I think it was Harry’s plan along with Louis or whatever—since they were young. They hang out a lot here.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t mean to say Harry’s the reason you got the job—your qualifications are outstanding and—”

“No, no, you’re fine,” she promised. “I know what you meant.”

Poor Harry.

For the most part though, the two rarely interacted. They would run into each other in the break room or near the copier in the storage room. On one occasion Harry asked her to read over his outline for a case to make sure he hit all the major components of what he needed to do. Every so often Harry would bring her tea and not say anything at all to her. She found it odd and thanked him even though he never spoke to her.

She was oddly comforted by the fact he was just one room over.

*

There was a gentle knock on her door before it opened. “Some of us are getting Chinese food and I noticed you’ve been holed up all day—are you okay?” Harry appeared speaking the longest sentence that wasn’t about schoolwork or a case in their entire life. And he even asked about her well-being.

She wasn’t okay. She had a headache, something fierce. It started at the bridge of her nose, gripped the back of her eyes, and was reaching for the back of her head. “Yeah,” she murmured not looking up from her papers on her desk. Her voice sounded weak and scratchy. How long had it been since she looked up? Her neck felt cramped as she raised her head slowly to look at Harry. She wished she had a glass of water.

“Kitten...y’don’t look so good,” he said quietly.

“M’okay...M’jus not feeling so well,” she shrugged. “But I have to get this done,” she told him. “I think I skipped lunch,” if she could fathom the idea of using any part of her brain for something other than this case, she would have noted how Harry so sweetly called her kitten.

He sighed, almost annoyed and she briefly wondered what she did wrong now. He disappeared for a moment. Within an instant he came back with water, pills, and a protein bar. “I’ll get some Chinese for you too.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled glancing briefly at how pretty he looked in his suit and how kind it was of him to bring her medicine. “I’ll Venmo—”

“Shh,” he said and turned off the overhead light of her office as he left. Leaving her in darkness except for the desk lamp to her left. “Try a nap on the couch,” he said. “I’ll wake you when the food is here.”

*

“Kitten,” he said softly. He gently shook her, and she tried to remember if Harry had ever touched her in their entire lives. The smell of greasy, salty food woke her up the rest of the way. Harry seemed to know her Chinese food order. She searched her memories if they ever ordered Chinese together and how he remembered.

“How’d you know what to get?” She asked stupidly. She could blame the headache or the lack of sleep if he said something mean about it.

He didn’t. “Your friends ordered at a party junior year,” he shrugged. “Remembered what you liked.”

“Oh.” He waited until she was upright and eating—staring at her like one of their science experiments from school. “Do you want some—”

“No, just making sure you actually eat.”

She felt her face warm, and she shook her head. “Uh. Thanks, that’s not necessary.”

“Well clearly it is if y’forget t’eat lunch and make yourself sick.” Again, her face heated up, but she said nothing because he was right. “What are you working on, anyway?” He asked. “That you’re skipping lunch and everything.”

“Uh...I just want to make a good impression and make sure I’m doing everything I can.”

“I’ve never known you to not give a hundred and twenty percent, love. If anyone has a question about your qualifications, you can send them to me.”

“How come you get to act like a partner?” She asked. “M’not jealous or anything—I’m just wondering why—”

“Louis always said I was brilliant or whatever,” he said casually with a shrug. He wasn’t bragging. He was just stating a fact. It was true too. Harry was brilliant. “I always told him it was because I worked with you, but he didn’t believe me. So, when he saw m’name as a reference on your application, I told him he would understand it was your brilliance that helped me be so successful and if he didn’t hire you, it would be a terrible mistake in his career because you would go be perfect and wonderful somewhere else. He’s seen your work, trust me, kitten. He knows how hard you’re working and you’re making an unbelievable impression. You don’t need to skip lunch t’prove your worth.”

This by far was the kindest thing Harry ever said of her—maybe anyone had ever said of her. She was speechless. Maybe it was the sleep still on her brain. Or the pain in her head that caused Harry to turn off the lights, so it was dark and quiet in her office. Or maybe it was because Harry finally said something sweet about her. But she finally worked up the courage to ask a question that had bothered her for their entire lives. “How come you don’t like me?” Her voice was so quiet it pained Harry.

He shook his head. “I like you,” he said with an eye roll. She wondered if it was no longer hard for him to lie like that. Countless people must have asked him over the years. Certainly, by now he perfected the tone and emotion needed to get people off the subject.

“Not really,” she said with sigh. When they were younger it definitely upset her more that Harry disliked her so much. When people asked she would feel a sting come behind her eyes because it would have made all the sense in the world for Harry to be her best friend. Now, it was just a matter of fact. NaCl was salt, flowers bloomed in spring, and Harry didn’t like her. “It’s fine...” but her voice cracked just a hair like it used to when she was asked about why Harry didn’t like her at all. “I just...I don’t know. We would have been really good friends if you did...that’s all,” she gave a small shrug eating another bite of her food.

“You want to be friends?” He questioned, surprised. Even though he was a dick to her she wanted to be friends. She seemed to be a glutton for punishment.

“Well,” she cleared her throat pushing her orange chicken through her fried rice as a distraction. “I guess we’re kind of old to be asking that,” she said quietly. “We just spent a lot of time together growing up. I think it would have made sense,” she explained. It felt like she was arguing another case, it was far more awkward though and while she would have liked to win, she didn’t know if it was worth it. “It’s fine...you don’t have to be my friend. Thank you for the food.”

“Kitten, I,” he sighed and ran his hand over his face pinching his lower lip between his fingers. She could tell from the tone in his voice he was exasperated by her. She should have just eaten faster and let him leave without the third degree. “We can be friends.”

She blinked at her food and then turned to look at him. “We can?”

He tilted his head at her and rolled his eyes. “Would it make you happy?” He asked.

She was lucky her brain wasn’t fully functioning due to the lack of food. That was a weird question for him to ask. Harry never once cared if she was happy or not the entire time that she knew him. “Yes.”

“Then we can be friends.”

*

Despite their newly found friendship, she tried not to overwhelm Harry. They made small talk when they ran into each other at the office. About once a week Harry would text her asking if she would like to carpool to work and she politely declined because again, she didn’t want to bother him.

“Hey, I’m going to meet a client at Starbucks, do you want any coffee when I get—oh,” she said softly. For the entire time she’d known Harry, she had never seen one hair out of place. Not one shirt collar unpressed. A shoelace never untied.

Right now, Harry’s hair was clearly the result of running his hand through it several times over, his eyes rimmed red, and his papers on his desk distributed haphazardly on the floor. “Go away,” he grumbled looking at the ground.

“Harry, are you alright?” She asked quickly closing the door behind her.

“Fine,” he spit. “Just leave.”

“Uh, no,” she swallowed the nervousness down. She thought about how nice he was when she wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to return the favor if she could. Whatever his outburst was about, she wanted to help. “You don’t look okay. What’s wrong? Can I help—”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Harry, seriously.”

“M’mum was in a car accident, Gem called,” he snapped. He had his head hung low as he pressed his hands to the back of his head. “I have a disposition in an hour and Mum’s in surgery. Okay. Are you happy?”

She blinked. No, she wasn’t happy. But she knew why he snapped. That answered her question about what his relationship with his mom was like. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” he sniffed.

“Harry...you...you should go to the hospital.”

God she was infuriating; this friendship thing was a stupid idea. She was too nice and sweet. “Did you not—”

“Harry, it’s your mom,” she reminded him. He looked up at her, again the startling contrast of his usual put together self and this...broken man made her weak. She wanted to pluck every piece of pain from his body and put it somewhere that would never find him again.

“I know!” he nearly shouted. “I can’t leave though,” he said softer than his shout. It was agonizing, she knew it was breaking him.

“I can do your disposition Harry. You have to go to the hospital.”

“You don’t know the case.”

“Give me the highlights.”

He looked up finally, right in her eyes and stared at her. “You would really do this?” He asked. She nodded. “What about your client?”

“I’ll reschedule. This is more important.”

“I can’t lose this one.”

“I’ll do my level best,” she promised. “Trust me.” He did. Implicitly. All the school projects, every presentation, any time Harry forgot something he knew she wouldn’t. She was always there to make everything they did better. “Just go and don’t worry about this.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth as she put the phone to her ear and quickly told the other end of the line she had to reschedule because of a family emergency—but she left out that it wasn’t her family. They could do dinner this evening if she’d like on short notice or coffee tomorrow. It was done with ease and grace. The client at the other end didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “I don’t think I can do this,” Harry admitted; he wasn’t sure he would tell anyone else that except the girl he had known for his whole life. In Harry’s eyes, no one knew him better—even if she didn’t know it. “This client is very particular, and he’s mean and—”

“I can handle mean,” she said firmly. Harry wasn’t in the headspace to realize she could handle mean because of him. “Harry, you’re going to the hospital. You won’t do a good job if your mind is on your mom and you’re worrying the whole time. Then you’ll be worried you’re ruining the disposition so just let me help.”

He nodded solemnly. She was right, of course. She waited for him to make his decision. His knee bouncing the whole time as she picked the papers off his floor, and she organized them into neat little piles on his desk. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled her phone from her purse. “Hit me,” she said holding the phone out to him ready to record.

*

Harry arrived at the hospital. Gemma was in tears but in such shock as she gazed at her arriving brother. “Are you really here?” She asked hugging him tight. He nodded, squeezing her hard.

“How’s Mum?” He asked ignoring her obvious question that he would never willingly leave work—especially if he had an important meeting.

“She’s okay,” she said, eyes red and teary. She nodded firmly. “It was really scary because they wouldn’t say until I got here. Surgery is needed but not life or death,” she explained. “She’ll be ready to see us in a few moments.”

Harry sighed with relief and sat in the waiting room chair. “Christ,” he muttered.

“I thought you had a disposition?” Harry quickly explained the situation and that the sweet girl was taking care of it. “You work with her?” Gemma asked. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re...paired again. It’s just fate, y’know?” She mumbled. “S’nice you have her to look after you. To have someone you know and trust nearby,” she told her younger brother. “I love her,” she said with a shrug. “Even if you don’t.”

Harry ignored her. He was focused on his mom. He was relieved she was okay. But he wanted to see her.

His phone vibrated with a text from her. She promised an update as soon as the disposition was finished.

All done. Went well. I left notes on your desk. Let me know if you need anything. Wish your mom and Gem well. Don’t worry about anything else here.

Thank you, kitten.

:)

“Kitten, hmm?”

“Yeah.”

Harry locked his phone. When they went to the room where his mother lay looking banged up but alive, he nearly cried. “Hi Mum,” he sniffed.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she smirked easily. Nearly unaffected by the wires and tubes. “How’d you get out of work?” Gemma was delighted to tell the tale of the sweet girl. “Oh, I love her,” Anne grinned tiredly. “Why didn’t you ever bring her home, Harry?” She wondered. Harry started to answer but the arrival of a get-well basket on behalf of that sweet girl made its way through the threshold halting all of Harry’s thoughts of an excuse.

Because he really didn’t know why he never brought her home.

*

At the company party Harry eyed her from across the way. They were definitely friendlier, but Harry was hedging his bets. First and foremost, he was still hesitant to be in love with her. She was perfect and if he thought for two seconds longer, he would realize his stupid idea that he shouldn’t be in love with someone he’s known his whole life wasn’t his issue. Perhaps his issue was that she was perfect, and Harry was not. It seemed cruel for fate to tempt him like that. But maybe there was a reason she was so heavily involved in every aspect of his life.

Harry also wasn’t blind to the implications of dating a coworker.

But most importantly to him, she was so good at everything he couldn’t imagine being a subpar boyfriend when she deserved the very best. Harry didn’t even know how to be a boyfriend. Because of all the schoolwork he focused on he rarely dated anyone longer than a few dates or the occasional hookup.

And he had seen her in action as a girlfriend. Their junior year of university she dated a guy that she obviously adored for nearly a year and a half. She was naturally perfect. Went to every basketball game he was in, brought him soup when he wasn’t feeling well, and looked over his work for him before he turned it in. He was exactly what Harry imagined her boyfriend would be like. Attractive, hardworking, and very sweet to her. They met at the gym while she was studying for her ethics class on the treadmill (he only knew this because he told the story at a party, they both attended and Harry was intently listening).

The only problem Harry had with him—besides the fact he was dating the girl he spent so much time with—was he was not ambitious, and he never planned any of their dates. Harry hated him. She deserved flowers and coffee dates. Ice skating and movies. Once while she was on the phone with her sister when Harry was arriving at one of their study sessions, he knew she wanted a carriage ride around the park at Christmas. It wasn’t hard to figure out, so he was glad when he found out she broke up with him. Even if Harry didn’t like her, he knew she deserved more than that.

“Harry!” It was the client he had to skip out on for his mum the other day. “How’s your mum?” He asked.

“She’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry for the short notice of me not being there,” he said seriously.

“I was mad as hell when she told me you left. I think I screamed at her,” he admitted. Harry didn’t like that at all. The way his blood boiled at the idea of anyone yelling at her made him want to punch his client. Harry never thought himself a violent person, but here he was angry on behalf of a girl he only barely liked. It made him even madder that she didn’t mention anything at all about getting yelled at either. “But she was incredible! You can leave me with her anytime—she was brilliant and poised. I don’t think anyone suspected anything she had to say.”

“Yes, she’s very good,” Harry murmured around a sip of his drink. He was right, too. No one ever suspected the sweet girl to know anything. She was all eyes and beauty. She was softspoken, but her words carried weight. It would be entirely unfair for her to be exceedingly intelligent too. But she was. Harry hated the way people underestimated her, especially when they were paired together. It was like they thought he was only paired with her because she was pretty.

“She’s easy on the eyes too,” he winked at Harry. Harry gripped his drink tighter as he envisioned shattering the glass over top of his head.

“Ha, yeah.”

“Well thank you. I’m glad your mum is okay. I’ll keep you posted about the next meetings,” he said.

Harry nodded. “Have a drink on my tab, please,” he said gratefully.

Harry was suddenly at her side. “You didn’t tell me he yelled at you,” he said interrupting whatever conversation she was in currently.

“Uh, sorry,” she said softly clearing her throat to the gathering that eyed Harry like they’d never seen a man before. It was clear the interruption didn’t bother them solely because Harry was the one interrupting and it gave them an excuse to ogle him up close. She was lucky she spent so much time with him growing up. She could ogle at her own leisure. “Excuse me,” she grabbed Harry by the forearm, and he swore it felt like fire where she touched him. He wracked his brain for a memory if she ever touched him before this moment. “Come again?”

“My client. He told me he yelled at you. You didn’t tell me that.”

“Uh...you were kind of busy Harry. I’m used to getting yelled at, it wasn’t a big deal to—”

“Who yells at you?” He asked quickly. “Why would they yell at you?” Harry felt his blood boiling and he didn’t really know why. He wanted to put her in his office and monitor every interaction she had with anyone else in the world. She should never be yelled at—he would be sure of it going forward.

“Well clients mostly, my sister, you, this woman yelled at me one time at the grocery store—”

“I’ve never yelled at you.”

“Yes, you have,” she shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We work in a business of yelling, Harry.”

He wanted to throw his glass across the room now. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Seriously?” She asked.

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s really okay, Harry. I’ve been yelled at before.”

“But you shouldn’t be,” he was exasperated again. It was a quick switch to get to this breaking point of her complete non-understanding of why he was mad. But she didn’t really know why he was mad, and it was unfair of Harry to be so agitated by her when he didn’t even know why he was mad.

“Harry,” she said gently and put a hand on his forearm and gave him a squeeze. She gazed at him with those beautiful, lovely eyes and Harry could feel himself melting at the sweet expression on her face. “It’s okay,” she promised. He tore his arm from her and stalked off angrily sipping his drink before he did something like tell her she loved him.

So much for friends. She thought to herself.

*

Harry never really avoided her at firm parties. But he seemed like he was at this one. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and it oddly made her uncomfortable to not knowing where he was. She supposed since she had been with him for nearly 20 years of her life, when he wasn’t around, she knew. It didn’t make the party any less fun nor did it deter her from chatting with potential and current clients.

“Hello there,” a man said while she waited for her drink at the bar. She could tell he had too much to drink. It was another member of their team. Someone she saw on a very rare occasion. His client load was substantial and kept him busy and away from the office most days.

“Hi,” she said politely. He was a tall man. And with the alcohol coursing his bloodstream he knew very little of personal space.

“You’re very pretty,” he slurred. Her face felt hot at his assessment, and she wished she wasn’t by herself.

“Thank you,” she said gently and walked toward a group of the women she was chatting with before she headed to the bar to get another drink.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said following her another step. “You’re very smart.”

“Try to be—I have to get back to my friends,” she said gesturing to the women nearby. He frowned but she could feel his gaze on her back as she hurried back over. Fortunately, he was gone when she glanced back.

*

At the end of the party, she told her friends she was going to use the restroom before she left and not to worry. She would see them on Monday. What she hadn’t accounted for was the stupid drunk man to be in the darkly lit hallway leading to the bathrooms when she exited. “Hello, again.”

Shit.

“Hi,” she said gently. She sounded a lot braver than she was. There was no one in sight at all.

“I wanted to tell you how pretty you were earlier.”

“You did.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you again.”

“Thank you,” she said and stepped forward to brush past him. He grabbed her arm. She felt her fight or flight kick in and she desperately wanted to fly. “Excuse me, I’m leaving. I’m expected home soon—”

“Can’t you come home with me?” He asked with a sick smirk on his face.

She shook her head. “Let go of me,” she said firmly.

“Come on, I can make it worth your while,” he pulled her arm hard making the space between them almost disappear. She didn’t like how small she felt. She hated that about her job. She was constantly made to feel small because she was a woman. His height didn’t help. Neither did the alcohol.

But right now, it was a hundred times worse, and it made her stomach churn. She wanted to throw up and for a moment she thought maybe that would help her escape. “No thank you,” she said pulling harder on her arm that would surely have a bruise when she looked later.

“Well how about right here?” His smile was evil and vile. She really wanted to throw up now. Why didn’t she just go home with her friends?

With as much force as she could muster, she stomped on his inner foot, and he gasped and released her arm in shock. “Fuck!” He shouted. She hurried down the hall, tears filling her vision but somehow, he was right behind her, grabbing her arm again and pushing her against the wall causing her to yelp. “You’re going to regret that,” he snarled in her ear.

Before she had time to cry or vomit (or both) his presence was gone, and she fell to the floor at the lack of pressure against her body. She scrambled to her feet and turned to see Harry towering over the man he had clearly thrown to the ground. The panic flooding her body subsided immensely. Her heart rate was still elevated on behalf of Harry but seeing him made her feel so much safer.

 “She said no,” Harry said with so much anger in his voice she was terrified. He dared one glance back at her to see her back on her feet. His eyes were furious. She had seen him argue in mock trials and even been to some of his real court dates. Harry may have disliked her for a long part of their lives, but she had never seen hatred like this.

She would have hated to be the man on the receiving end of his look. “She’s a taunting little bitch. I’ve heard the way you talk about her,” he snapped at Harry. “Leave us alone.”

“I’ve known her my whole life. She knows I don’t talk about her,” Harry said knowingly. His voice was so deep, and the intensity of his words left her woozy; she couldn’t imagine someone protecting her—least of all Harry. And his words were true of course. As much as he disliked her, no one ever had a bad thing to say about her at the hands of Harry. “I will not be leaving her alone.”

She nearly sighed with relief at his statement. He turned quickly, grabbed her hand, and pushed her in front of him as he guided them out of the hallway and out of the restaurant. There were people milling about, but it was late, and it wasn’t crowded by any means. If Harry wasn’t there, she doesn’t want to think about what would have happened. He ushered them a few paces away from the restaurant up the sidewalk.

“Are you alright?” He asked suddenly, he turned her to face him as they stood under the streetlight outside. She was shaking like she was cold, and Harry wanted to reach out and warm her. The last five minutes were catching up to her violently. “Kitten?” He almost snapped, desperate for some indication that she was okay. “Are you okay?”

She nodded then shook her head. “I-I’m fine,” she said and sniffled wiping her sleeve across her nose. “I just want to go home,” she said with an awkward laugh and then the tears started to blur her vision.

“Kitten, I’m not going to leave you alone until I see you lock your door and you’re home safely. So it’s okay to not be okay, just tell me,” again, he sounded exasperated with her.

“Yeah, no I’m okay...” she whimpered biting her lip trying to erase the thoughts from her head of the last few moments. Harry was there and she was okay. “No...no...” she shook her head as the tears steadily fell. She gasped out a strangled cry and Harry pulled her to him immediately. She was overwhelmed by a lot of things but also that he felt so safe and sturdy as he held her. His arms around her protectively, he cupped his hand on the back of her head and one arm around her waist. The sobs left her freely then.

“S’okay,” he said so gently it hurt more than anything that happened to her. Harry being so nice to her nearly wounded her. The safety of his embrace left her breathless. His thumb rubbing over her hair made her weak. “You’re safe, kitten,” he promised. “I got you.”

*

Harry held her hand the entire cab ride home. She sniffled and each time she did, Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly. The cab stopped outside her apartment building, and she reached for her purse for money. “Stop,” Harry said putting her hand to her side and paying the driver. Harry followed behind her while they made it up the stairs to her second-floor place. Every so often she glanced back to see if Harry was still there. “M’not going anywhere, kitten,” he promised.

She nodded, unlocked her door and pushed inside. “Can I get—”

“Just go sit down, love,” he shook his head at her. “I’ll be right in,” he said making his way for the kitchen. His voice was gentle. Like when she wasn’t feeling well, and he made her nap and eat.

She followed his direction. She felt a little out of place in her own apartment and she twiddled her fingers together as she waited in silence for Harry to come to her living room. He was there shortly, a glass of water for her. She reached out for it, but Harry noticed how her hand was still shaking. “Here,” he said bringing the cup to her lips. He gently cradled the back of her head with his other hand. She felt like a child as Harry helped her drink, but he didn’t pay any mind to the situation at all—he just didn’t want her to spill and make a mess that she would have to worry about right now. “Can I get you anything else?” He wondered. His voice was so deep and gentle in comparison to the hatred he spewed before in every word he spoke.

She shook her head, more tears filling her eyes. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

He shook his head back at her. “Don’t,” he sighed. “I would never let anything happen to you, kitten,” he promised. Her heart fluttered, despite everything. It was by far one of the sweetest things Harry ever said to her. “I’m glad you’re home safe now. I can leave if you want—"

She was quick to protest. Too quick. “No! Please don’t,” the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them. She turned to look at the empty dark apartment as a distraction from her cheeks turning into two red tomatoes. She cleared her throat regaining her composure as she looked back at Harry. She was lucky the tears filled her vision again at the frustration and sadness of her evening overwhelming her again.

“I won’t go until you want me to, kitten,” Harry answered pressing his hand to her face. He brushed his thumb gently over her cheek bone and caught the stray tear that spilled over. His voice was so quiet and soft. It was so different than every interaction he ever had with her.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly.

“No, baby,” he promised. “I won’t.”

She didn’t think and wrapped herself up in his embrace. It worked so naturally of course. His arms wrapped around her, and he tugged her carefully, so he was snuggled into the corner of her sofa with her cuddled into him. She sighed with relief as tears flowed onto his shirt and coat. She sniveled miserably. “I’ll have to get this dry cleaned for you,” she managed to mumble between her tears.

“Would you please just shut up?” The exasperation was thick in his tone. It kind of made her smile.

“Okay,” she whispered sniveling still.

After a few moments her cries subsided, and Harry let his fingers dance up and down her arm as he held her close to him. He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit in the empty spaces of his body. “Harry?” She asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” she said again.

He sighed, a bit irritated that she was thanking him for being a decent human being and protecting her. But he knew she was uncomfortable and upset. “You’re welcome, kitten,” he said softly. “Go to sleep.”

*

“I can’t do that, Harry. His client base is too substantial.”

“Let him leave with them, then,” Harry snapped. He was pacing Louis’ office. Adamant something be done.

“Harry, stop,” Louis rubbed his hand over his face. “We can get her a restraining order if she wants, and we can put him on a different floor so he never—”

“You need to fire him,” Harry said. “Or she and I will take all our clients and leave instead,” he promised.

He stared at his friend. “Harry.”

“Louis, you fire him, or you’ll have to represent me when I kill him.”

There was a knock outside Louis’ door before the pretty girl entered, making the anger in Harry’s heart dissipate immensely. “Oh, hi Harry,” she murmured and looked at her feet nervously. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Tomlinson?” She asked softly.

Harry gazed at her so adoringly, he couldn’t stop himself. His blood was on fire the moment he saw her struggling. He never thought about murdering someone seriously in his whole life. Yet there he was—ready to kill someone on behalf of the sweet girl. “Call me Louis, love. Please.”

She nodded. “Louis, then. Am...I in trouble?” She asked curiously.

Harry sighed in exasperation and ran his hand over his face in disbelief. She stared at Harry curiously as he made his assessment. “You’re an idiot,” he said to her.

She looked at her feet, feeling her face warm at his insult. “Harold,” Louis snapped. “No love, you’re not in trouble. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh.”

There was a bit of silence. “Well, are you alright?” He repeated. Harry wanted to shake her a bit. She was beyond infuriatingly annoying sometimes.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Uh...Harry protected me.”

“Yes, he’s decent every once in a while.”

She smirked. “He is.”

“Can I do anything for you to ensure you feel safe while you’re working?”

“Oh, um...no—”

“You can fire him,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, that’s not necessary,” she shook her head, her face feeling flushed.

His right eye twitched and he looked out Louis’ window; stuffed his hands in his pockets as he muttered to himself. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not safe while you’re here,” Louis said knowingly.

Harry wasn’t watching her, but she looked right at him as she answered Louis. “I feel safe,” she said softly.

Louis smirked and shook his head at Harry who still wasn’t paying any attention. Talk about an idiot in this scenario. “I’m very sorry that happened to you. He will be reprimanded beyond belief, you have my word. We’ll be moving his office to a different floor as well,” he promised.

“Louis, you weren’t there,” Harry reminded him. “You didn’t watch her cry while she fell asleep—”

“Harry!” She gasped at the admission and her face felt warm. That was not something she wanted her boss to know. It painted the wrong picture—even if she slept so well in the comfort of Harry’s arms. Louis didn’t pay any attention to their night spent together, though. He was keeping his eyes on Harry.

“I wanted to kill him,” Harry repeated. She gulped at the idea of Harry doing something so violent for her. Something that would get him thrown in jail for a long while.

“I understand that,” Louis said simply. “Love, I’m very sorry,” he returned his attention to the poor girl who looked wildly uncomfortable. “If there is something I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. I know you have Harry in the office next to you, but if he’s not around, I’d be happy to assist you with anything,” he said kindly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said courteously.

“Harold,” Louis said narrowing his eyes at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbled and stalked out of the office.

“I’m...sorry about him,” she said nervously.

“Don’t worry love, I’ve known Harry for a long while. He means well. He’s just thick headed sometimes,” he shrugged. “I’m serious though, if you need something or want something, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Shaking her head, she exited his office and headed back to her own. She grabbed a cup of coffee from the breakroom as she passed it and tried to think about the to-do list she had for the day. Mentally, she added a dry-cleaner stop for Harry’s suit she cried all over as well. It wasn’t much, but it was the least she could do as a thank you for all he did. As she paced the last few steps toward her office, she tried to convince herself the last few moments in Louis’ office were real. Harry was angry at Louis (and maybe her, what else was new?) for something beyond his control. She wondered why he was so adamant but found it sweet in Harry’s own way.

She closed her office door behind her and tilted her head at Harry sitting on the couch. As she entered, he stood up and gazed at her without speaking. It looked like he was looking through her. She bit the inside of her lip as she held the coffee with both of her hands to keep her tingling fingers warm at the idea that Harry was waiting for her. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m going to be a shitty boyfriend.”

She blinked in complete confusion. It was by far the last thing she ever expected Harry to say. “I’m sorry?”

“I get all wrapped up in m’own stuff and I forget dates even though they’re in m’calendar and reminders and everything. It’ll infuriate you. I’ll make up for it with grand sweeping gestures that will maybe make it better, but they might just make y’madder that I can’t remember the little things.”

“Harry, what—”

“M’so in love with you and I’ve been ignoring it since we were kids. The six months I worked here without you were the longest months ’ve gone without seeing you and I didn’t even want t’see you, but I don’t want to go that long without seeing you ever again. I barely want t’go an hour without seeing you and even when I do I think about you the whole time,” he started to pace across her office back and forth as if was retracing his steps to remember all the things he was saying. Like they were written on the carpet.

“Can you just—”

“I’ll be better than that tool y’dated in third year,” she wondered where that came from because she didn’t even know he knew she was dating someone. “I’ll give you everything y’want or need whenever you ask. I’ll plan dates, I’ll take y’anywhere you want t’go, I’ll walk on hot coals for you, if you ask. I love you so goddamn much, love. I want to murder someone for you, and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash; ’ve never felt this way ‘bout anyone before. You’re infuriatingly sweet and y’never know when t’shut up or what’s good for you. It’s probably going t’get y’killed one day and I don’t know how someone s’sweet could be a corporate lawyer. You’re unbelievably challenging in so many ways and y’always remind me that I don’t know everything even though I think I do. Mum and Gemma want me t’bring you t'Sunday dinners.”

She shook her head trying to process all of this it didn’t help that he was jumping from topic to topic. Harry had given speeches in college before. She listened to many of his own closing arguments and of course read countless persuasive essays. This wasn’t anything like any of that. This was wild and out of sorts. She wondered what was flowing in his head and why it was spewing out like this, why it was happening now. “Harry, what are you—”

“You asked me t’be friends because you thought we’d be good friends since we spent all that time together. Quite frankly you’re m’best friend. Even though I was miserable towards you all the time. I don’t know why I did that t’you and s’jus’ another reason you should tell me t’take a hike. No one knows me as well as you do. Sleeping with you on your couch made m’neck so sore I can’t turn it to the left, but it was the best sleep of m’life and I want t’do it over and over again if I can hold you.”

That made her face flood with heat so quickly she was sure she looked bright red. “Harry, honestly, I’m—”

“I will never hurt you and I will never let anyone hurt you while m’around.” This time she didn’t interrupt him she could feel her face soften at his words and she felt like she was going to cry if he talked any longer. “I don’t think I know anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten, inside or out,” he said softly. Everything else he said felt like a sprint. A rush of words he had been dying to get out for who knows how long. “Please, be my girlfriend,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

[neteyamssyulang]

⭒ Tumbled Stones Station ⭒

⭒ Part 1 ⭒

⭒ Pairing: Okul x Fem sarentu reader ⭒

⭒ Part 2 here ⭒ -coming soon-

⭒ Summary: The picnic you planned with Okul goes better than expected, till an unexpected visitor shows up.

⭒ Warnings: None really, Mostly kinda fluffy, besides a small make out session, Scenting, Slightly possesive Okul?, Vistor ruining the moment.

⭒ Word count: 1,243 ⭒

⭒ Translation(s): Yavä -> The poisonous fog, Oe tìyawn nga -> I love you, Oe tìyawn nga nìteng, ma narlor 'eve -> I love you too my beautiful girl, the hollows -> Kame’tire clan home.

⭒ A/N: First Okul fic! Our baby needs more love in the fandom🩵 Still working on how I can do a smutty one with them. Also yes I added Anufi having an Ikran in this. And requests are almost finished so I’ll be posting them soon!🥰

⭒ Tagging: @neteyamsyawntu

It was the perfect day for a picnic. Priya had mentioned that on nice sunny days like this, humans sometimes gather a blanket, some food and drinks then go to a nice quiet spot for a picnic with a friend or two.

You didn't want to bring just anyone, no, you wanted Okul to come with you. They needed a break anyway from all the research they've been doing to try and find out a way to get rid of the yavä.

Though you practically had to drag Okul from Siul's workshop, they were pouting the entire time saying they couldn't take a break and needed to get back.

Once on the ikran, Okul went quiet. Their arms wrapped around your waist from behind as their head layed against your back. It was Okul's first time on an ikran, yes they were a bit scared but the views were amazing from up here.

There was a nice spot next to the Tumbled Stones Station, it was a small clearing by the edge of a cliff, overlooking the waterfall.

Your ikran, Zaeli, landed infront of the station letting you and Okul off her then found a nice spot to lay down for the time being.

"This is beautiful y/n" Okul whispered, holding the food in one hand and the blanket in the other."Wait till you see the view" you giggled, leading them to the small clearing.

Okul's eyes widened, never had they seen such beauty before, well besides you of course. It was so peaceful here, no predators ever came around so it was safe aswell.

As Okul admired the view, you began to set up the area, laying down the blanket then taking the food out the basket. There was Sweetened Niktsyey, Cheesy Sähena, Sweet fish pie, and Relun's fruity tea.

You sat down just as Okul walked over, sitting down beside you. "So, this is a picnic?" They asked, tilting their head slightly.

Chuckling softly, you nodded "Yes, do you like it?" Okul nodded smiling "I do, thank you for allowing me to come with you."

"Of course, I knew you would love it up here" you smiled. The two of you then began to eat, Okul went for the cheesy sähena while you went for the sweet fish pie. Ri'nela had basically made everything since you were a terrible cook, but hey you were trying.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, just listening to the sounds of pandora and the roar of the rushing waterfall that was near. It wasn't until Okul spoke that you noticed they were standing in front of you, their hand held out for you.

Looking up at them finally, you took Okul's hand standing up aswell. They led you little ways over to the cliff, sitting down with their legs dangling over the side. You sat beside them, still holding Okul's hand.

"You know y/n, the view is beautiful yes" they paused, turning their head to face you. As much as you wanted to look at them you couldn't, your face was a deep shade of purple, from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

Okul sighed, they removed their hand from yours then pulled you onto their lap. One hand went around you to make sure you wouldn't fall while the other was placed on your cheek "But you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Finally your gaze moved to theirs, looking into Okul's eyes all you could see was the love and adoration they had for you. A small smile tugged at their lips and one of your hairless brow raised "What is that face for?" You asked. They leaned in close, their lips ghosting over your ear."I think I'm falling in love with you."

Your breath caught in your throat, did Okul really just say that? You felt as if you were dreaming at that moment. Okul must've sensed your nervousness as they leaned back "I can assure you, every word I say is the tru-"

"I think I'm already in love with you" you blurted out, cutting them off. Okul chuckled "I know, do not think I have not noticed you eyeing me from across the workshop."

Well shit, did you make it that obvious?. Okul pulled you out your thoughts, leaning in to place a soft kiss against your lips. As they were about to pull away, you pulled Okul back, smashing your lips back against theirs.

Smirking against the kiss, Okul adjusted you so that you were now straddling their lap. Your arms moved to wrap around their neck as Okul's wrapped around you, keeping you as close as possible.

The kiss was impatient and sloppy, making Okul almost forget that you both were still at the cliff. Okul had managed to stand up still holding you, and walked over to the picnic blanket laying you down on it while they hovered above you.

Breaking the kiss for much needed air, Okul trailed kisses down your jaw, to your neck, sucking and nipping at it as your soft moans filled their ears.

Still not feeling like the mark was enough, Okul nuzzled their face against your cheek then into the crook of your neck, trying to scent you as theirs. You didn't mind it though, you wanted people to know you were Okul's and that they were yours.

Now satisfied, Okul trailed kisses back to your lips, capturing them with their own. This kiss was more soft, more loving. "Oe tìyawn nga" you murmured against the kiss.

Okul's tail swayed happily behind them till wrapping itself around your calf,"Oe tìyawn nga nìteng, ma narlor 'eve" they spoke, breaking the kiss to look down at you.

One of their hands moved to cup your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. Before you could say something more, the sound of an ikran approaching sounded in the air then Anufi's voice shouted "Okul? Y/n? Where are you children?"

Panicking, Okul scrambled to get off you. "Hello?" Anufi shouted again, walking past the station till spotting the both of you. By now, Okul was sat beside you as the two of you were acting like you just finished up eating.

"Ah there you two are!" Anufi smiled "I am sorry if I'm interrupting but Okul needs to start their training if their ever going to take over when I am gone."

You frowned slightly but nodded "No it is ok, we were just finishing up anyway." Okul turned to look at you, giving an 'im sorry' look.

Anufi looked over the both of you till her eyes landed on your neck, "Child, what happened to your neck?" She asked, moving closer to crouch down beside you.

This time it was your turn to panic, "Uh it is nothing, don't worry." Anufi raised a hairless brow at you but nodded, standing back up. "Alright. Come Okul, we must get back to start your training."

Okul sighed standing up, they held out their hand helping you up aswell. Anufi watched as Okul engulfed you in a tight hug before pulling away, she was no fool. She knew what caused the mark on your neck but chose to not act like she did.

You watched as Anufi got back on her ikran with Okul sitting behind her. With one last wave, they took off back to the hollows, soon flying out of view.

[merakiui]

Fwb Riddle with the prompts "You don't have to leave, you know" and/or "Stay the night tonight" 🥺

AAAA YES YES. OTL

(fwb dialogues)

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Riddle murmurs, watching you pick up your discarded clothes scattered on the floor. He’s sitting up in his bed, the covers draped lazily over his lap. Awkwardly, he wrings his hands out of nervous habit.

You glance over your shoulder at him, stunned. “I thought you didn’t have time today. You told me so—said you’d rather be studying when I texted you.”

“Yes. Well…” He huffs, averting his eyes. “I’ve changed my mind. So… If it’s not asking too much, stay the night tonight.”

You tilt your head, resting your hands on your hips. “Isn’t there some rule about this in the Queen of Hearts’s law?”

Riddle chuckles, regaining slivers of confidence with every passing second. “There’s nothing in the rulebook that says I’m not allowed to share my space with you. We’re abiding by the rules.”

“Most of the time.”

Riddle blinks at you, opens his mouth to question you, and then clamps it shut. His face explodes with color. He remembers the night well—the party at the lounge. He only went for courtesy’s sake, accompanied by Trey and Cater, and he’d planned to make his rounds, greet everyone in turn, and leave before he missed evening tea. Rule 153 — One must only drink herbal tea in the evenings.

But then someone passed a fruity drink into his hand—something that was so very obviously alcoholic from the look and sight alone—and Riddle had thought himself strong enough to decline. Even though his wits were about him, they crumbled at the sight of you, merrily giggling alongside Kalim and indulging in the type of mindless fun he’s never had the chance to know. He’s never needed to rely on liquid courage or anything like it; he derives enough confidence from the ever-present fear of failure and that keeps him going.

But this was different, and it wasn’t very secretive to the keen eyes of his friends and dorm mates.

Cater had nudged Riddle, grinning encouragingly. “You literally never get to see (Name) outside of class. Now’s your chance! Go make Cay-Cay proud and talk a bit.”

Riddle flustered outright. “I’ve no idea what we’d even talk about!”

“The upcoming exam,” Trey prompted with a half-shrug. “Nothing gets people talking faster than when it comes to exams they aren’t looking forward to.”

For once Riddle doesn’t find academics an appealing conversation subject. But he hadn’t had time to deliberate because Cater looped arms with him and skipped over in your direction.

Riddle learned two very valuable lessons that night. One: Never drink wine in copious amounts no matter how delicious it is. Two: Never hook up anywhere near or in the Mostro Lounge.

It’s been months since that party, an irresponsible mistake on his part, and he’s arguably closer with you than he’s ever been. Physically, perhaps. Emotions are…difficult. Neither of you signed up for the emotional benefits. Just the sex. Sometimes he wishes there was more. Rule 53 — One must replace anything stolen.

But how can you do that when you’re not aware of the thing you’ve unintentionally stolen?

Riddle surfaces from that rumination, refusing to dignify that with incoherent, embarrassed sputtering. Instead, he simply says, “Certain situations call for…exceptions.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, stepping into your underwear. Riddle’s gaze traces the length of your legs. “An exception to the rules? Last I checked there’s no rule saying we can’t kiss.”

“And there aren’t any rules prohibiting you from staying either.”

You pause, half-dressed. “No, I guess not… I don’t want to ruin your study time, though. I may be an exception, but I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“We could study together.”

“You’re the only guy I know who’d study after sex.”

Riddle bristles. “W-What else am I meant to do?”

An amused smile curls on your lips. You cover the distance to the bed and lean over to meet him. He stares at you, swept up in your charm. You’re everything his mother would object to. Your relationship doesn’t suit that of normal, standard love (because it’s not), but it’s his choice and no one, not even the rules or his mother, can influence that. It’s messy and imperfect, but it’s all his.

“You could try talking to me,” you offer, your face within kissing distance. “Not about school or dorm stuff. But about you.”

Oh.

Yeah, you’re right. He could try that.

[licorice-tea]

Loving and Letting Go

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, eventually fluff, a little bit of platonic Zosan <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: FIRST REQUEST YAY! tysm to the anon who requested this, i loved writing this! hopefully it fits what you wanted! and ugh i tried to write it so it’s clear that sanji is genuinely in love for the reader, so much so that he’s willing to grow and change for them. he’s just so sweet, one of my fave characters for sure! oh also the title is from a song by Pham Viphurit! enjoy <3

Sanji loves you, so so so much. More than he could ever put into words, or cards and gifts of perfectly delicious meals and fruity drinks, or even hugs and kisses every time the two of you cross paths. But he still tries to convey the extent of his feelings for you, though it will never be enough in his humble opinion.

You, on the other hand, hold the complete opposite opinion. Yes, Sanji is sweet and loving and a great boyfriend, but sometimes he just does too much. Like, when he gives you presents out of the blue; you enjoyed the gifts at first, but overtime you started to feel bad for him spending all of his extra money on you. Then there were the things he’d say to you; you could be doing the most mundane of tasks, or be sick and rotting in bed, and Sanji would still address you as “my goddess.” Simply put, you feel undeserving of the amount of attention he gives you, and it makes you nervous.

Today, like everyday since the two of you became official (and quite a while before that), you wake up in his arms. Though Sanji wakes up much earlier than you in order to prepare breakfast and coffees and teas for the crew, he always makes time to come back and wake you up. And you know, as soon as you shuffle or allow your breathing to become uneven, that he’ll know you’re awake. So you try to fall back asleep in hopes he’ll just go and let you wake up alone. At least then your performance wont have to start until breakfast.

Unfortunately, Sanji just knows you too well. He notices the gentle flutter of your lashes and how your breathing had quickened, if only for a moment. Some people might consider this a luxury; to have such an attentive partner who knows you better than you know yourself. And you did too, at one point.

“Mon amour,” he whispers, “are you awake? I brought you a cup of coffee, and breakfast is ready in the kitchen.”

Sanji’s breath is warm on the back of your neck, but he places a kiss there and suddenly it’s burning hot. He’s so insatiable, smothering you in displays of affection first thing in the morning.

You really can’t take it anymore, and so you gently remove the arm that lays across you. “Go away, Sanji.” It comes off harsher than intended, but the buildup of stress from his constant admiration has reached its peak.

“…Are you ok? Are you sick?”

You sigh, still not turning to face him. “I’m fine, I just… you need to let me be.”

“Angel, have I done something? I’ll make it up to you, I swear, name what you want-“

“I want you to go away.”

Sanji holds his breath for a moment. You’re wounding him with your words, which you should feel bad for, but he’s literally giving you a headache. He doesn’t understand that even you, usually so accepting and reciprocating of all his love, have limits and require space.

He retracts his arms from around you and slips out of the bed, making sure to fix the comforter after. Sanji’s hand lingers on the door knob for a moment before he finally turns it. And while you let out a relieved, but shaky exhale, he tries to hold back tears on the other side of the door.

The tension between you two is palatable as ever. Not that there isn’t always some sort of tension, because there is, but usually it’s more… passionate. Or romantic, at the very least. But for the first time, the rest of the crew can tell that you and Sanji seem to be in the middle of some sort of lovers quarrel. He watches you from a distance and attempts to approach you several times throughout the course of the day, and every time you find some way to make yourself busy.

Even Zoro, in all his obliviousness, notices how little you two are interacting. “Hey, shitty cook.”

“Piss off, Zoro. I’m not in the mood for your stupidity.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ya know, with you and y/n. She’s avoiding you, so… What’d you do?”

“I DIDN’T-“ Sanji catches himself yelling, and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. She just told me to leave her alone, and I’m respecting her wishes.”

“Huh. Well, alright then.”

Zoro doesn’t speak further, but Sanji can tell he has something to say since he’s still sitting at the kitchen island instead of taking his sake to enjoy on the deck. “What? Just spit it out already, asshole.”

He shrugs. “You’re probably suffocating her with all your… love-y shit.”

“Suffocating? No, no I treat her the way she deserves to be treated. Y/n is my goddess, my night and day, she is the queen of my heart and-“

“You see what I mean? Y/n is great or whatever, but she’s a human. She’s one of our crewmates, for fucks sake, and you worship the ground she walks on instead of treating her like one.”

“Because I love her.”

“She knows you love her, idiot.”

“… Hm. You think so?”

“It’s pretty fucking obvious.”

Sanji scoffs. “Whatever.”

He walks out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, but mind elsewhere. Perhaps Zoro… is right? Even that doesn’t sound possible, but… Sanji could understand how you might, on occasion, feel a little smothered. But even if you did, he thought you enjoyed it! You always welcomed his lips on yours or his hands around you, and you often would giggle and accept his compliments, returning them with your own. So when did you start to feel fed up with him? Had he not paid you enough attention, too caught up in worshipping you as the (surprisingly emotionally intelligent) swordsman had said? And most importantly, was it too late now to repair the damage?

Sanji finds you in the aquarium bar, finally, after searching the upper deck and checking your room and your study below deck. The door is open, so he knocks against the frame. You turn away from the tank to look at him with eyes wide open.

“Can we talk?”

You nod silently, and scoot over in the booth seat assuming that he would want to sit by you. But to your (pleasant?) surprise, Sanji takes a seat in a chair on the other side of the table.

“Mon- ahem, y/n. I’ve come to understand that maybe… Maybe you’ve felt smothered by me, recently. Is that true?”

You’re surprised that he recognizes why you’re upset. “Mhm. A little.”

“Can you tell me more, my love? I want to fix this, to fix my behavior.”

“…You’re perfect, Sanji. And I love you so much, it’s just… It makes me anxious when you’re always so- so extreme, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Which, he already knows; the gifts, the constant PDA, being around you 24/7…

You sigh. “You know what I mean, Sanji…”

“Yes, I do, but I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” He thinks.

“You’re always hovering over me, and as much as I love being around you, too, it’s just too much. I need space, sometimes, and I’m only human but you treat me like… Like I’m somehow different or better than the others, and that… I don’t know, it makes me feel bad about myself.”

“I never want you to feel that way-“

“But you do. I feel guilty and nervous and- and..” you sniffle. Oh god, you’re crying. “I love you, but sometimes it’s too much.”

Sanji feels tears pricking the in the corners of his eyes, too. Was there really such a thing as too much affection? Clearly, if he had just made you cry from all of it.

“Y/n… I- I’m so sorry, I never meant to overwhelm you.”

You respond with an equally soft tone. “I know. It’s ok.”

He shakes his head and reaches an arm across the table, but second guessed the action and retracts his hand. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have ever done anything to make you uncomfortable in the first place.

You reach out this time, putting one hand over both of his. He glances up at you. “You didn’t know.”

“Still….”

“In the future, maybe… Maybe try to do a little less, if that makes sense?”

Sanji nods, and reaches out again; this time to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I just love you so much, y/n.”

“I love you too.”

While cradling your face in one hand, he continues. “I’ll give you more space from now on, if that’s what will make you feel better.”

“I think it will.”

And it does. In the coming days, Sanji keeps the PDA to a minimum, and even makes a point to call you by your name more often than he addresses you as “my goddess.” It makes you feel more seen, and definitely more comfortable.

You still want him to hold you most nights. It’s hard to fall asleep without his arms around you after so long getting used to the feeling of him; his love, his protection, his dedication and his breath. And of course, Sanji still indulges you. The great, passionate love he has for you hasn’t gone away- it never will- but the way he shows you affection are more so on your terms now.

Besides: what greater way could there be to show you his love, than by doing everything in his power to make you happy?

[lavender-at-heart]

Hiya, I love your writing, could I request some fluff with Erik (poto) where the reader is sick, tysm x

Omg tysm for the request!!! <3<3<3 I haven't written in a while so I'm not sure if it's any good. Also perfect timing because I am sick and it sucks.

(Ignore the fact that I have meen m.i.a for months 😅🫢😓)

Pairing: Erik The Phantom x fem!reader(can be read as gender neutral but there are a few uses of typically fem. terms of endearment)

Warnings: illness(?)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Your mind humms awake after a long dreamless slumber. Your body feels heavy. You can hear Erik at his organ but every note he taps seems to amplify the growing pain in your head. You attempt to open your eyes but immediately shut them once the bright blinding light hits them. You slowly pull yourself up into a siting position-

𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵! 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴? 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵!

Today was the day you and Erik were going to finally leave his dark abode and have a romantic picnic near the Seine. It was something that you had been anticipating for months and maybe even years! No doubt Erik will be in a mood when he hears. Looking into your mirror you look a ghastly version of yourself. Your try and brush out the wires of your hair but you still seem a fright.

Quietly shuffling over to the organ in your flowing night dress, you hope Erik doesn't hear you aproach. 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴.

"[Name], mon coer! Your awake! Are you ready for this afternoon, I- oh dear your looking a bit dull, do you feel alright?."

"What? What are you on about? I feel fine! Of course im alright!" You protest and try to hold back a nasty cough.

"Hmm..." Erik holds a hand to your forehead before you can flinch away. "My dear your burning up! Your are most definitely ill. Why did you lie to me?"

Taking his words as anger; you start to get worried that you have upset him, and worse that you've ruined your afternoon together.

"I'm sorry Erik! I didn't mean to! I'm really not all that sick we can still go outside, I promise!" You plead to him and grab his hand that was once resting on your head.

"Darling what's there to be sorry for? You are sick and we must take care of you."

"But I feel fine!"

"I'll have none of that now back to bed, I'll be right there." You begrudgingly trud back to bed accompanied by a sneeze and a cough.

Happy to be back in the warmth of your quilt, but still saddened about your soiled plans; you await Erik's return. Ayesha mewls over towards you and finds comfort in your lap. Soon enough your eyes begin to droop and you find yourself nodding to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awake not long after to the feel of soft hands on your own. A fruity smell fills your nose and Erik hands you a cup of herbal tea.

"Here, drink this, sweetness."

The warm orange liquid helps to ease your aches and calm your mood. Then you take a few vitamins and enjoy a bowl of soup.

"I know you are saddened about this afternoon but please don't be. I am perfectly content to care for you right now. Besides we always have next time." Once your soup and tea is finished, Erik kisses your forehead and gets up to close the curtain that wraps around the bed. Then he goes to blow out the light and comes to cozy up with you in bed. He wraps his arm round you and sets his head between your neck. You carefully take his mask off and place it on the bedside table.

"...Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Would you sing for me?" Nothing ever seemed to soothe your pains more than Erik's singing.

"Of course, cheri. Any requests?"

"My favorite please."

And you begin to fall asleep again as Erik's soothing voice sings 'The Music of the Night'; but this time your sleep is filled with the wonderful dream of you and your phantom enjoying a picnic by the river.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

[inaconstantstateofchange]

back at you though, drinks edition? a type of drink you couldn't do without, that is your go to for any occasion? give us the specific deets, recipe if needed

oh no you've activated my trap card i love drinks

okay so special occasion drink: brown sugar boba (50% ice 50% sweet) but specifically from the tea shop close-ish to my house. it's expensive so i don't go often but holy shit. they use actual proper tea and fresh-as-hell boba and it's just. it's so good, i think anything from there would be insanely worth it (but i've never bothered to branch out from perfection).

my daily bev: i can't be too specific on brand without lowkey doxxing myself a tad, but there's a local company that does this flavored black tea with cornflower, raspberry, red plum petals, and blueberry, and it's just. it's incredible. mellow and rich and lightly (but not overwhelmingly) floral and fruity. i have it every single day and i'm convinced it is the perfect tea.

and two other faves because you asked for recipes:

strawberry (cheong) lemonade: okay so this is more effort than truly necessary, but i went to one of those u-pick strawberry places last summer and then the cultivar fucking sucked so they weren't even good, so i made cheong with them, which is a korean fruit syrup/preserve you make by layering equal amounts of fruit and sugar in a jar and letting them sit (i put them in the fridge just to be safe) for a few weeks.

the end result is preserves that you can blend into a bangin' spread and a fruit syrup that is like the nectar of the fucking gods. i didn't think it would make a huge difference doing it that way rather than a typical heat-based reduction, but it tastes like fresh strawberries. you don't lose any of that to it breaking down via heat treatment, so similar to the difference between a cold brew and a heat-based one.

anyway those mixed with lemonade (i make a concentrate using half lemons and half regular lemon juice, and include some lemon zest) makes one of the best summer drinks i've ever had.

i'm adding a cut for the last one because i can't/won't stop now but i have some self-awareness. okay, last one:

vanilla chai: i haven't made this in a bit, because when i moved here i ended up using up my stock of cardamom, and the local brand available here is just... not it, and i'm still trying to work out the most cost-effective way to order them online. which is devastating, because cardamom is the flavor most beloved to me in chai. anyway-

the thing that rocks about chai is that it is not actually all that hard, and you can customize it so specifically to your taste. my go-to add-ins are cardamom (5-6 pods, crushed open), cloves (2-3), cinnamon (about half a stick, crushed a lil), fresh ginger (idk how to measure this one, like an inch or two?), and vanilla. i used to use vanilla bean paste i got ages ago as a gift, but that is too rich for the world we live in nowadays, so it's whatever vanilla i have.

technically there's a specific kind of tea you're supposed to use, but i prefer it with regular loose-leaf black tea (which i always have on hand anyway). so you basically get a small pot, and bring your water (about half to 3/4 of your mug) to a boil. once it does, add your tea leaves and spices (not vanilla tho) and let them vibe out there for 5-10 minutes.

then, add your milk (about half of your mug) and vanilla, and warm to desired temp, but don't let it boil (this is my personal preference). add desired amount of sugar to your mug (i usually do a small spoonful of white and a small spoonful of brown sugar) and pour the chai into the mug through a fine mesh sieve (to get out the spice bits). if you have a milk frother, i like to aerate it a bit before drinking (improves flavor and also makes it less likely to burn your tongue).

[bokettochild]

if you were a bunny I'd hold u really gently and give u a lil hat

i would just make u a whole house out of cardboard filled with the best stuff

idk if this is weird but I just have affectionate emotions sometimes and I don't know how else to express them and I cant keep telling u to get urself a lil treat and u being like "I'm gonna have coffee!" for the end of enternity (not that I mind)

also just to catch u up I've been having the strongest hyper fixation for an au I've ever had in my life and im gonna start posting about it soon

its like a fs DND au and I have art and everything lol

also whatve u been up to?

im just waiting till the end of Ramadan so I can stuff my face with sweets

have u ever had bakhlawa because its crazy good

what type of coffee do u like btw, personally I don't drink coffee but I do like herbal mint and green teas, I love good quality juices tho

whats ur favorite food or a great comfort food for urs, for me my comfort food is either fajita or fettuccine with air fried carrots and zucchini

i honestly just like cheese and carbs with some savory

finally do u prefercold or warm sweets? My preference is generally cold sweets like ice cream or cheese cake but I also have a very soft spot for traditional sweets that have honey/semolina/flower water/date paste in them

this has been my check in and blabbing, I hope ur doing well kottie

I think being a bunny would fix me

If it helps at all, my little treat for today is chocolate raisins (my beloved) and I got two bags so I can have plenty this week!

I have been straight up existing recently. Just....chilling (resisting the urge, again, to start posting my new multi-chap before it's ready). I did get my yearly cold that will last for the next month most likely, but my urge to write is back! So I'll take that trade off!

I have not had it, but I think my dad said he's had some, made by hand! He said it was delectable :)

I like mochas, although there's a cinnamon flavored drink at the cat themed coffee shop I go to called the "Cinn Kitty" which is pretty good too! I have no clue what kind of coffee it is, just that it's hot and cinnamon-y.

I think a comfort food for me is potato soup, with a bit of cheese sprinkled on top and maybe some ham? Maybe. And you're right, cheese is the best thing ever :) (my favorite cheese is smoked cheddar)

I like warm sweets. Like, it's cold up here most of the time, so it helps me stay comfy (I run cold) but in the summer I love sweet fruity things because they're usually cooler

I hope you're doing well too!

[spaceshipsoutthepool]

Sulk in the Sun🍹

Ao3 link

While it’s quite out of character to do so; Penny loses her cool and storms off. Although it isn’t ladylike to admit that. Brains comes to join her by the pool. And of all people, is the one to try and talk her out of potential leaving International Rescue.

Boom! last fic of the year bay-beeee. Happy 2024

Story under the cut for those who prefer to read here

Lady Penelope was never a sun chaser. Or comfort­able in great heat. Much as she was trying to relax. Forcing herself to relax might be the more operative term.

"Oh, I'd much rather be wrapped up in layers. With a walk on the heath any day.” she thought moodily, looking out over the ocean again. rather than facing the sunlight like the fellow tourists topping up their tans. “Bring on winter. It's probably a lovely chilly autumn day back home!”

Around the pool (but not actually in it), holiday makers and expats alike were turning over and over for an even bronze. Penelope privately thought most were cooking themselves to walnuts; all oiled brown and wrinkly. She decided she probably looked silly; sat in the near shade wearing a cover wrap and a large sun hat. And then decided she didn't care. Not particularly. Just like she didn’t care for this resort. And she didn’t care about International Rescue. No, not at all.

Penelope again tried to put ‘the day job’ from her mind. And tried to focus on just the sea breeze coming over the cliff side. The blue ocean. and blue almost cloudless sky stretching on for ever and ever. And somewhere out there, just beyond the horizon and further hidden by several clever mirage devices, hidden in plain sight was Tracy Island…

Drat.

"Your drink, M’Lady?"

Penelope did not jump. She refused to. Parker was now hovering at her side again, ever the faithful English butler. Even in his holiday cream chinos.

"Parker. You're on holiday too.” she scolded. “Do desist bullying the resort staff out of their jobs!"

"Begging your pardon milady. But they can't make a mixer or -pardon me language- a blooming cup of tea right.” He explained. “Not to your particular way of liking, at any rate."

Penelope sighed. He had a point.

"I do appreciate it, Parker. But you are fussing.”

“Sorry, milady.”

“Really. The world won't end just because of a little spilt milk or life providing lemons for the lemonade..." she said, taking the drink from the tray. then added with a rather viscous look back out to sea. "Despite what our American friends think."

"Quite? Erm...” Parker hesitated. It seemed he was not, for all their year's together, sure how to address a Ladyship whose pride had been wounded. Discussing Common enemies or wrong uns sure. Not catty remarks about ol’ pals and friendships possibly soured.

“Well… I’ll be off then? if you say so milady?"

"I do. Please Parker, go off and enjoy yourself?" She said, then added, “Preferably without a casino in sight?”

Parker sighed.

“No more gambling wot I ain’t got m’lady. You have my word on that. But.” Again, Parker hesitated. Then cleared his throat.

"If I might be so bold as to say so, milady-?"

"No. You may not." Penelope snubbed. And stubbornly turned back to the picture esc view.

“…Very good, m’lady.” Parker snubbed right back. Penelope sat tense, purposely ignoring him as he departed. then cursed her bad temper as even Parker left her too sit and stew.

Villains and hazards she could handle with ease. Emotions, or more unpleasant feelings, she’d always rather hated facing. Creighton-Wards don’t do very good at that. Especially without something constructive or some engagement to throw herself into.

“I wasn’t made for relaxing on sunbeds.” She thought. “That clearly skipped a generation.”

She did persevere, however, between sipping the fruity drink and reading the awful bad romance thriller book she’d brought with her.

(she’d initially brought the new hit bestseller to hide the history journal she had actually been reading. It wouldn’t do for the British tabloid press to think she wasn’t such a blonde. But then Diane had said the Book was so awful, it was actually good. So, Penelope had tried to read it for real. Then decided while she could trust Diane one many things, life and death things even; book recommendations was not one of them.)

The book, however bad, wasn't exciting enough to take her mind off things. Not properly. But She absolutely was not going to lose her temper, again or spend the whole holiday shut up in her room. Nor was she going to cry or shed one single tear over Jeff bloody Tracy. Or Scott for that matter. She hadn’t so far and was not about to start. Certainly not in public, thank you very much.

Lady Penelope was just debating if she should give it up? And see what the on-site gym had to offer, hoping to physically run away from her troubles. But when she went to sit up her ribs to remind her why she was on a ‘relaxing holiday’ in the first place. Trying not to wince was extra hard when she heard Parker’s heavy footsteps. (The ex-cat burglar was deliberately making himself heard and not sneak up on her again.) Instead, Penelope repressed a groan. not even forty minutes had gone past since she’d asked to be left in peace!

"Begging your pardon again ma'am. but there’s a gentleman wishing to speak to you?"

"If it’s anyone with the surname Tracy on the telephone I do not wish to speak to them." She snapped, not looking up from the book.

"Good thing it ain’t on the phone, then." Parker cut back, rather brutishly. then asked, "What can I get you to drink, young sir?"

"J-Just a c- cold soft drink please, Parker."

"Brains?!"

"H-hi Lady Penelope.”

Penelope bolted up (ouch) and lifted her sunglasses. Sure enough, there was International Rescues resident genius. He gave a little wave, as Parker gave a little nod and left. "My dear boy, how splendid to see you! What on earth are you doing here?"

“I’m dropping in on you, a-apparently. If that’s okay?" Brains smiled, sitting on the sun lounger next to hers. The young man stuck out like a sore thumb in his vest, shirt and tie. But despite the heat and the awkward way he held himself, (as if the lounger would bite him if he were to put his feet up,) Brains didn't seem to mind. Mind, Penelope supposed he was used to the heat of the southern hemisphere.

“I-I hope, I'm not interrupting anything?”

“Only my own ruminating. How did you know where I was?" She asked, astonished, putting down the rubbish paperback. Then narrowed her eyes at him. "And why are you here, even? Did someone put you up to this?"

Brains’ hands went up sharpish in surrender, like she’d levelled a pistol at him.

"N-no. no one! I came of my own accord.” He said. Then amended, putting his arms down. “Well a-actually, no. That's not true. I was coming here. Solo. then l-lost my nerve? and Tin-tin bullied me into actually going through with this. And then flew me here!"

Penelope whipped around. (Her ribs didn’t like that.) Tin-tin sat at the outdoor bar, looking resplendent in tangerine. with a drink to match. seeing she’d been spotted, Miss Kyrano saluted her.

"Tin-Tin said if you like, she's up for a trip out into town. but she’s also said to tell you she’s not coming over until she knows you definitely won’t judo throw her over the cliff. or be cross with her for bringing me over.” Brains explained.

“I would never-!” Penelope said aghast. Then remembered the rather vicious exchanging of words that had led to her checking into the resort rather than staying on Tracy Island. “…Not the first option at least.”

“T-that’s fair. And as for the how, John tracked the heli-jet to the mainland, and locating your communications was very simple. That and this is one of the nearest luxury adults only resorts to the airport. Tracy Industries has a gold card- “

"Oh of course he does." Penelope scoffed. And then felt a teensy bit bad for throwing Brains off his track.

Brains nervously cleared his throat. and continued. "Yes. to a suite? We stay here if the weather is too bad to get back across from supplies runs with the jet or the Ladybird. so, we simply walked onto site, dropped off our bags; Tin-tin got changed and then we came looking for you."

“Right. Well Brains, you’ve found me. Congratulations…”

Brains shifted nervously as she scrutinised him. Then turned away, pulling back down her sunglasses.

"A-a Penny for them, Lady Penelope?" Brains tried when the silence stretched a little too long.

"Right now, my thoughts do not make for good company." Penelope said coolly, not accolading the pun on her name, intentional or not.

Then sighed, rubbing her temple.

"My apologies. You are a pip for coming out to see me. I shouldn't take it out on you. Or dear old Parker, either for that matter."

"Less of the old." She thought she heard. Penelope glanced back to the bar where her butler was taking an awfully long time to fetch Brains his pop.

Penelope took off her sunglasses, folding them neatly back into their case.

"But Brains? Dear if you've come to apologise on their behalf or ask me to come back to the island, don’t bother. and I’m not apologising either, so don’t waste your time asking me too!" She said, feeling rather childish. Then added. “Even if it is bad form."

"No, I didn’t. And-and I'm not going to do that. I-I c c ccc.”

Brains paused and took a breath before continuing.

“I came on my behalf. Admittedly with a push. No one bar John was informed where we were heading. Just off base. And as for saying sorry-?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I think you’re both in the wrong? if it matters, Lady Penelope.” He said sincerely.

Penelope shot him a look that sent ‘stronger men’ running normally. This time Brains wasn’t affected.

“However, you came to Tracy Island for r-rest and recovery. And I’m sorry you fell out with Scott and Mr Tracy. That I will a-a-pp-p. That I am sorry for.” He continued. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Really?"

"That, that is very sweet of you. I'm …fine, thank you." She said. Then teased just a little. "How many times do I have to say you’re free to call me Penny. or at least Penelope?"

"I don't think I could manage ‘Penny’." Brains shook his head. "It doesn't sound right from me."

“Alright.” She said, “But I mean it. And it is sweet, but I hate to think I’ve put you out. you could have just called?"

"W-would you have answered? "

"From you, yes.” Penelope said truthfully. “But then again I guess there's no way of screening calls outside of the home video phone and FAB One.”

"No. That is something I’ve been looking into? Assimilating a ringtone, different coloured lights for items. Or a caller id like on telly phones. It’s been simple enough to roll out on the vehicles so far. But on the watches and-!”

Brains stopped. “… Lady Penelope, you're letting me t-talk e-electronics again."

"You call it techno babble; I find it interesting." She shrugged. It might have sounded like false flattery to or from someone else, but she did genuinely enjoy listening to Brains. Even the bits that went over her head.

"Yes, but y-you're avoiding an awkward conversation." Brains frowned. "Where was I?"

"Television phone lines?" Penelope tried. Brains frown grew a little exasperated. "Oh, it was worth a shot. I said I would have answered. if it was you."

"Right. Well as I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried about you. So, were Tin-tin a-and the fellas? And we’re all missing you and had been looking forward to you visiting. Really. I hope I’m not wrong when I say I see you as a very good ‘pal’, Lady Penelope? even outside of work.”

Brains was not a great fan of spontaneous physical affection. or else Penelope might have reached over and squeezed his hand. She herself wasn’t one for mushy sentiments without substance.

“You aren’t wrong. Although I'm not using the term ‘pal’ , thank you. but You’re a dear friend of mine too Brains. One Whom I’m lucky to have I might add.”

“The gadgetry upgrades are an a-added bonus.”

He said it in his normal tone but punctuated it with a very over top wink. Ah a joke.

Parker did not bring Brains his cola. But allowed the automatic waiter to bring it to him instead. It was a shiny chirping dustbin looking thing with a flat tray head, running on wheels and a track. Nothing as sophisticated as Braman. Although someone had gone to great trouble to put a smiley face on its front using its order lights as eyes. Penelope glared at it all the same for intruding.

Brains took the drink, thanked the robot; And continued.

“And it was somewhat selfish of me too. Coming to see you I mean. I wanted to get off the island for a little while. or at least away from the house.”

“Oh? Brains, is something wrong?” Penelope wasn’t going to admit she was worried no. not at all.

Alright, perhaps a smidgen.

“hm. it isn't a nice atmosphere.” Brains said, plucking out the umbrella from the drink and rolling it in his fingers. “And the others are trying to hide in my lab which is-?”

The near splutter of giggle from her startled them both.

“Terribly sorry, Brains.” Penelope apologised. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I just got the ridiculous image of one or more of the boys physically hiding under your work bench like a game of sardines!”

“Ah. no. That would be funny! And that has happened before! Not with the work bench but the storage cupboard. I do have to remind them sometimes it is a working lab and workshop." Brains said with a chuckle. Then more seriously, "If they were working on their own projects, I wouldn’t mind. It would be simply a case of just being there at the same time? but it was more they all keep coming in rather than face one another. if that makes sense? to see how whatever it is I’m working on is going and small talk."

“Ah. No, I quite agree that it is quite bothersome when people do that. One moment.”

Penelope reached into her bag. And pulled out an anti-listening device, ironically disguised as a compartment pocket disc and radio player. While the one in her compact and Brain’s watch were probably more than adequate for any electronic bugs; this one packed a little more juice that’d allow them a little more privacy. Beaming white noise up out of its antennae, the gadget then echoed surrounding noise back outward, creating a barrier around in up to a five-metre radius. Both eves’ droppers and recording devices alike wouldn’t hear them now. Even Parker and Tin-tin’s own IR devices would struggle against it. Parker wouldn’t even hear what she was saying even if he hid in a nearby decorative pot plant.

“There. Then we speak a little more freely about your lab and the Tracy’s.” Penelope smiled, setting it on the table between their sun loungers. “You can never guarantee secrecy in these places. As you’ve proven!”

Only Brains was more focused on the not-a-radio. “Is the new synth mechanism working well for output you need it too outside of the testing conditions? I wasn’t certain it could generate the continuous voltage without compensating the battery life.”

“Now who’s talking shop to avoid discussions?” Penelope pointed out. Brains sighed and swirled the cola as if it might help.

"It isn’t a nice atmosphere.” He said eventually. “In any of the villas. But other than seeing you’re okay? I'm staying out of the actual argument please. So are Tin-Tin, Gordon and John. "

“That’s only two out of five brothers." Penelope said quietly.

“Alan is heading to Thunderbird Five two days earlier than he was meant to. John changed his mind and was going to let Alan owe him another week seeing as you weren’t there anymore? but I think Alan’s trying to escape too. " Brains said. “And his, Alan’s I mean. His stance is ‘I told you so’. but I'm not sure which side of the argument. Although John asked you to call him, and you can tell him your side of the story.”

“Our own little ‘bitch sesh’.” Penelope said, sipping her drink to avoid pursing her lips. “And Virgil's?"

Penelope wished she hadn’t asked. Brains’ face fell.

“Virgil isn't speaking to anyone." He said sadly. "Last time I saw him he was holed up in Thunderbird Two making adjustments to the starboard’s main averting b-six aid access. And he had been for nearly ninety minutes!"

"Which bit is that? That he’s repairing."

"Oh. On the hatch in the cockpit, for storage." Brains corrected. "It keeps sticking."

“What a nuisance that must be." Penelope frowned. “Especially as Two’s pilot.”

“Quite. But. It shouldn’t take all that long to fix. And… I’m not sure I should say this?”

“And?” Penelope prompted anyway.

“And Virgil is not even acting as Scott’s confidant." Brains said.

“Oh…goodness, that is troubling."

“Hmm. Yeah.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment or few.

There was a splash, which served as a fitting distraction as any.

Tin-tin had at some point put on her cap and stripped down to her swimsuit. making use of the pool she’d hopped in for a dip and started doing steady lengths. Parker was looking h’after her stuff. He sat watching the sunbathers like a guard dog, daring any dirty old men to ogle or approach the young lady. It was quite sweet how protective he was of Tin-tin. Parker had acted much the same in Paradise Peaks, despite them being on assignment.

Deciding they’d be alright, Penelope sighed again and turned back to Brains.

"It wasn't in my itinerary, you know? To upset Virgil. I didn’t set out to do so on purpose.”

“I know.”

“Or Jeff actually. Certainly not to anger him. or Scott. or any of you for that matter-."

“don't.” Brains frowned interrupting. “I know that. With what was said, I believe it was needed, giving the operation. but the way it was put, it wasn't right.”

“That's rather the crux of the matter. rather than quite what was said itself.” Penelope admitted. Brains nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Does he often do that with the rest of you?”

“No, not a lot. Although sometimes Mr Tracy says things in that tone without meaning too. But He does it to even Kranyo? I don’t like it when he does that.”

“I doubt Kryano does either. Well, thank you for your honesty… I knew I was in for a lecture. Or possibly at worst a telling off. I just hadn’t expected it levelled at me quite so bluntly or on a personal level.” Penelope complained. “Oh dear. But you are right. And I shouldn’t have shot back either. At Jeff. I'm afraid my own father was a ‘give them as good as back, son’ sort of approach too.”

“Mine tried.” Brains agreed. “So did the professor.”

“Oh?”

Brains very very rarely ever talked about his family life before the Tracy’s. Adopted or otherwise. But he was slightly more casual here, just for a brief moment.

“It didn’t take. Sending me to boxing classes to t-toughen me up just gave the school bully an easier target. Especially if I couldn’t see them in the ring without my glasses.” He said. And waved off any sympathy.

“H-how did your parents find it?” Brains asked and at her questioning look clarified, “Not following the life they’d planned for you? If that’s not too personal?”

“From you, no, not at all. Hmm. I think switching from scouts to the guides helped? But it was being made head girl and going to finishing school that finally won mater over.” Penelope shrugged. Something her old tutor would have struck her with a ruler for, speaking of. “As for my father? In his own words better a strong daughter then another waste of an heir like his brother was. Yours?”

“The professor didn’t really mind what I wore or what I changed, so long as I didn’t miss any classes.”

Brains didn’t elaborate any further. Penelope picked up the thread of conversation before the silence became awkward.

“I'm afraid I’ve made papa sound a brute. He wasn’t. He was a good man in most respects. although I don’t think he and Jeff would have gotten on at all.” She said. But the augment was still playing on her mind. and the subject circled back and reared its ugly head. “But speaking of Jeff and fathers. This isn’t a case of simply being grounded or getting into trouble with a local constable, is it?”

Brains shook his head, and Penelope continued. “And yet Jeff spoke to me like a child.”

“But what you did was incredibly risky? He’s right to think that.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need to hear any more of his Opinions.” Penelope said curtly. “…or his mothers.”

"If it helps Mrs Tracy called him and Scott foolish. For speaking to you like that. Individually. and idiots collectively " Brains put in.

"It does actually." Penelope said, a little cattily. "Given Grandmama Tracy cannot stand me, she must really be quite galled to be on my side."

“y-yeah. Well partly on your side.”

"Was she very rude about me?" Penelope grinned. Brains thought for a moment reanalysing.

“Urm…you do know Mrs Tracy says your name odd. Like it’s an insult?” He said warily.

“Oh, she always does that. That's why I call her Grandmama.”

“Oh. But Mrs Tracy hates that?”

“I know. She pretends to flirt with Parker, and she knows we all hate that.”

“I'm not certain it is pretend. Wait, is that why she called you a snob?”

“Is that all? Well, I am. That’s not terribly rude. if it’s true.” Penelope smiled sweetly. “She also thinks I'm a bad influence on you Tin-tin and the boys. And Jeff to boot.”

“Really? I don’t believe it.”

“She told me that herself. And you’ve my word it’s the truth.”

"I don’t understand why you find that funny?” Brains said, “Oh well. Other than that Mrs Tracy wasn't so rude as to call you anything but ‘her majesty!’ behind your back… But that was before the fight."

“It was hardly a fight! Nothing was broken or hit." Penelope disagreed.

"Well, what would yo-you call it then?"

Penelope thought. "A mild skirmish.” She said, “Or perhaps the start of a rift."

"I- I’m not going to call it that first one. But Mrs Tracy is being very vocal about everything being ’bang out of order’. And that she ‘raised you boys better’.” Brains said, with air quotations. “And she keeps dishing out chores. The villa is spotless. And Mrs Tracy is hand washing the dishes despite having the dishwasher. She only does that when she’s cross.”

Brains then smiled and lowered his voice unnecessarily, "Can you keep a secret, Lady Penelope?"

"Always dear.” Penelope whispered back, conspiring for juicy gossip. “Go on?"

"Mr Tracy even got middle named!" Brains chuckled. "He was complaining about Virgil’s hiding. And Mrs Tracy told him to pull his own socks up. Metaphorically. B-but he doesn’t know Gordon and I heard him."

"Oh my!” Penelope tittered. “Although if Gordon heard? then it will go around the island like wildfire."

“T-true True.” Brains smiled.

But then that smile slipped somewhat.

"I-I'm afraid there’s no way to avoid Scott’s fussing or temper by the way. He gets very worried about any of us getting hurt. You and me? We might not be one of his brothers but Scott? He's always trying to look out for everyone."

"I know." Penelope conceded. "I know. But the hypocrisy? He cannot throw himself into ridiculous scrapes himself then join in with berating me like a child!"

"I know.” Brains echoed. “He does it a lot. Even worse since that accident with the ‘dish Monte Bianco? the others call him smother hen.”

Virgil had called it that and some several more rather expletive things, she knew.

“Gordon says it’s a compliment?” Brains continued. “Too you I mean. That Scott cares for you. As one of the team”

“It didn’t feel like a compliment.” Penelope pouted. Not that she’d admit that. “He didn't have to jump in and agree with Jeff quite so eagerly either. And the dressing down from Mr Jeff Tracy? I maintain; it really felt like I was being spoken to like a child!”

“Hmm.”

Brains paused tapping his shoe nervously.

"I I do respect Mr Tracy, a great deal. But sometimes..."

Brains took a deep breath.

“Sometimes Jeff can be a little frustrating to deal with.” Penelope suggested. “And it feels like he doesn’t take one seriously.”

“You hit the pr-pro p. you’ve hit the nail on the head there as it were, Lady Penelope.” Brains paused again. “I wish sometimes…”

Penelope gave him a moment. But Brains changed tack.

"You were worried about him. Last April? so you insisted Mr Tracy took a holiday, correct?" he said, placing the cola on the table next to hers and the fake radio.

"I did.” She said, curious to see where he was going with this. “After a very insistent message from a little thunderbird-ie prompted it. But they were right."

"Oh. I didn't know that bit… but You still had Mr Tracy’s best interests at heart, right?"

" I hoped so."

Jeff had been very against it…

"But then Scott burnt out trying to be in charge?" Brains said. "Even before the seascape called in. And Mr Tracy came back only to the island."

"I remember." Penelope said. This time it was her turn to pause before speaking. “I felt like I was being blamed without him saying so.”

"Hmm. he doesn’t like it. not being in charge?” Brains said. Penelope agreed. “But at the same time, he’s never given Scott any training or expertise into stepping up. He just expects Scott to ‘know’ what to do. Same with Tracy industries. And it isn’t just Scott. It’s all five of them. I know they had a say in the matter of making the operations. But not so much in how it’s run sometimes. Or how it’ll run in the future.”

“Hmm.” Penelope smiled and put her shades back on. “And that makes it all alright, doesn’t it?”

“Lady Penelope?”

“Yes?”

"Your jaw is doing that thing it does on missions where you’re really angry but pretending to be helpless."

“Good grief Brains! Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You can count cards!” Brains shot back. "I prefer chess anyway. Scott was right in the lounge though, w-with what he said.”

“Scott was rude.”

“But correct. You don’t have to prove that you’re indestructible. We know you aren’t, even if you act like it!”

Penelope did not hide her scowl this time. “I can manage, you know? I'm aware this latest ‘favour’ I’ve done for Jeff is more of a blot on my record than a gold star. But I’ve been living this lifestyle for longer than they have.”

“I k-know that! We all do. We were all worried!” Brains said and put his head in his hands. He didn’t look up when spoke.

“He was right. So was Mr Tracy. but the way it was put wasn't. He does it to his brothers all the time! even when they’re out on a rescue. And sometimes Mr Tracy? He speaks to them as their dad when they’re running through protocols. or as a commander when they need their father?”

"That's the trouble with a family business I suppose." Penelope sighed. She drew out a cigarette case and her holder. At exactly the right moment Parker just happened to be walking past to light it for her with just a flip of his zippo. Barely breaking his stride. Remarkable talent of that man.

"I get I am essentially an employee in a family run enterprise. Albeit a rather extravagant one. As well as a friend of said family." Penelope continued, exhaling smoke out. "But to get a dressing down so publicly? With the lot of you in earshot, and Scott as his second jumping in and backing him up? Call me spoiled but I'm not used to it. I wouldn't do that to anyone who works in my home or working under me invited to the house. it's unseemly!"

That last bit came out a little loud and had it not been for the anti-eavesdropping device then heads may have turned.

Brains stifled a cough through his nose. And Penelope made sure to blow smoke the other way.

"What about your err... previous employment?" he asked, waving smoke away from his face. “Did You never get in this sort of trouble with them?”

“Oh goodness all the time. Not so much in journalism, but I’ve had some HORRID directors and horrible bosses. Far worse than Jeff. Especially within the fashion industry. thank goodness for houses like François Lemaire!” Penelope sighed again. "But I can get away with kicking up a fuss right back if needs be behind the catwalk and cameras if something is wrong. especially on behalf of the newer or younger models. Brands don't want the press of being outed as underpaying or cutting corners... That wasn't what you meant, was it dear?”

Brains shook his head. “Not really. But was there much difference? With modelling, interviews and being an agent.”

“The extortionate pay and more weapons pointed at my head.” Penelope quipped. Then really thought about it. “And bizarrely less sexism interestingly enough? Things were said to my face more, granted, but I could actively use that to an advantage.”

“Gee. T-that’s socially fascinating to observe. But I would not like to step into either of those worlds. With the exception of consulting and inventions.” Brains said. Then laughed. “Wait? You know those tacky souvenirs that say things like ‘you don’t have to be mad to work here-?

“But it helps.” Penelope said. “Yes, I know the ones you mean.”

“Well, I think we don’t have to be mad where we work?”

Penelope chuckled right back. “But it helps. True, very true.”

“I b-believe I might know what I'm contributing to the Secret Santa.” Brains said, making a note in his pocketbook. “”

“That’s very apt. regardless of whose name you pull out.” Penelope agreed. “What’s the limit this year by the way?”

The worst-best present was a Tracy Tradition. Had been since the boys had been pocket money age. save buying four presents each. And Grandma receiving five of the same mug or tea towel. The categories had become more wilder but if anything, the price limit had come down, to maintain the challenge.

“Gordon says up it to twenty dollars. but Alan wants to be extra hard and say ten.”

“I could be a bounder and include the postage then.” Penelope said, not meaning it really. “You get that slogan. I’ll contribute something with Alice in Wonderland. We're all mad here!”

“I'm sensing a theme.” Brains stammered.

“Let’s see if they notice. Mind I suppose Tracy Island is a wonderland somewhat.” Penelope smiled. “All your brilliant ideas? the bravery, the secrets.”

Brains however wasn’t laughing.

“Will you stay? In the organisation.” He said, suddenly serious and switching topics. It threw her, just a little.

“Why should I?!” Penelope retorted. She hadn’t thought of quitting. Not really. But she could!

“I can give you a list of reasons if that wasn’t rhetorical.” Brains replied.

“I don’t need a list.” She frowned. Penelope went to take another drag of her cigarette only to find it had burnt up.

“Can I ask why you don’t just fly back to England then?” Brains asked as she stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“No.”

The voice didn’t normally allow for any argument to bode. But Penelope wasn’t having much luck in being intimidating. Must be something with the factor seventy sunscreen.

“I m-maybe wrong but I think you were hoping someone would come. Here, from the island. To find you.” Brains challenged. “I like to think you’re giving them a chance to get their act t-together.

“Think what you like!” Penelope said. And in Trying to Give him the brush off, she snatched up her book again. She even started reading it again to ignore him. Unfortunately, she had it Upside down. And didn’t realise for a beat too long she was so annoyed. Still Penelope Powered through it. even tuning the pages. Brains in turn turned in his seat. and looked out over the same spot as she’d spent most of the day doing. He sipped his cola, politely ignoring her ignoring him.

“G-good book?” he asked eventually.

“Awful.” Penelope said, calmer. Brains was annoyingly very good at being a good influence. “And not in a way so bad it’s entertaining.”

“Ah. S-shame. Not even if it’s read the wrong way r-round upside down and back to front?”

“Not even then, darling.” She said, putting it back down. And steeled her courage to the sticking place. “And… going back to your question. admittedly I couldn’t face the flight. Home. Or Back to the island.”

Brains frowned. “Do you mean physically or psychologically?”

“Both-.”

“Lady Penelope-!” Brains interrupted.

“well-!” she interrupted right back. Goodness, this felt horribly vulnerable! “I just wasn’t in the mood for another argument. And a long-haul flight, even in a Fireflash, sounded extremely inadvisable at this point.”

“Are you in pain?” Brains asked. Then eyed her glass suspiciously. “Should you be drinking that on medication?”

“Now you sound like a Tracy. It’s a mocktail. I’m not so foolish to get white girl brit-abroad wasted, thank you! Not with bruises.” Penelope said, stirring it for emphasis. And gave a little scowl. “It's mostly fruity and syrup. Parker was right, this isn’t even close to a cocktail.”

“So, if you aren’t drinking a-alcohol, does that mean you are taking pain relief?”

“Yes, Brains I am.”

“The full prescribed dosage?”

Penelope didn’t dignify that with a straight answer. Brains pushed his glasses back up his nose and continued to stare incredulously at her till Penelope explained.

“I didn’t want to take them. They’re so strong. They make me woozy, and I cannot stand how at odds with my own limbs they make me feel.” She grumbled. “I came here to relax, not to be comatose.”

“You came to the island to relax. You went to recover enough to get out of any questions from the press.” Brains corrected. And sighed,

“Mr Tracy’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

“I meant it when I said think what you like.” Lady Penelope said coolly. “I'm here and he’s there. And he’ll still be behind his desk when I get home.”

“Is that your solution for dealing with uncomfortable situations?” Brains accused. “j-just run away and hide.”

“Better to hide in plain sight then get caught." Penelope sniffed.

“That's not denying running away.” Brains retorted.

“It was hardly a run. Given how long it took to repack my bags.” Penelope said, Losing her temper with another old friend. It wasn’t a burning fiery thing this time; this burnt like ice. “And don’t act as if he has never upset you either? Or that you’ve never buried yourself in work to avoid Jeff. Scott told me about the smashed models.”

That last bit she added Rather unfairly. Beastly even. Penelope regretted it the instant she said it. Brains regarded her for a moment, and she thought he might get up and leave that time. She wouldn’t blame him.

Instead, he grumbled, "You’re all very alike y-you know? In that you're all sorry about how you spoke to each other but too stubborn to a-actually apologise. Plus, you’re British and not going to admit he up­set you. Really upset you."

"For someone who just said he'd rather watch from the side-lines, you know a lot about how people tick Brains.”

“For someone who’s so cool under pressure she frustrates the Hood? you can be one heck of a hot head sometimes, Lady Penelope!”

Penelope considered he had a point. But didn’t verbally say so.

“What was in your cola to make you so direct today?” she said instead.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” he replied instead.

“Because I do not always need to be rescued.” Penelope stated. “I’m not a damsel in some story. For every concern Parker or I have called the boys in, there must be a dozen or so missions I handle. sometimes without most of you even being aware of until afterwards.”

“I know.” Brains said quietly. “But you did need rescuing in that situation. Or should have been? And you didn’t ask for help.”

“I am aware, Brains. Hindsight is a marvellous thing.” She snipped. “Unfortunately, I was too late in my decision making.”

“P-Penelope? You were hurt.”

Maybe it was the fact he’d dropped the title? Or it was the unsaid parallels to another tragedy. but Penelope didn’t interrupt.

“In an avalanche of all things. And at one point even missing? And knocked unconscious. Enough to scare us all.” Brains said. “That might be the reason Mr Tracy was, either consciously or not, hard on you. But… It is frustrating that we’re an organisation that helps people; but we’re bad at looking out for each other. Especially to how everyone is feeling, e-emotionally.”

“…Brains, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Or brought up the Thunderbird Six planning.” She said in a hush. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” Brains nodded. Then added, “A -also how much did he tell you? About the model I broke?”

Penelope was Not glad to change the subject as such. But certainly, latching on to it.

“So, it was on purpose then?” Penelope asked.

“no.” Brains defected. “Frustration? yeah…Failure isn’t an option. Even just demonstrations and trials.”

“He said it was more than one.”

Brains looked up at that, worried.

“S-Scott knew about the other models?”

“No. You just told me.” Penelope pointed out. Brains’ mouth opened and closed twice before just settling on silently frowning. “Scott said they’d been other pitches…and then even after repurposing Alan’s biplane, you seemed to lose confidence in yourself for a little while. That was clear even to Parker and myself.”

“wouldn’t you? nothing was good enough.” Brains frowned. “Nothing I made was what Mr Tracy had in mind.”

This time Lady Penelope did reach across the gap to squeeze his arm. It was more on his sleeve if anything. She didn’t wish to overwhelm the poor fellow.

“There’s no shame in wanting to work to a specification.” She tried.

“Or wanting to stick to the mission.” Brains countered in agreement. “Just please have ah- an extra b- backup plan next time, Lady Penelope? And be more careful around missions with snow.”

Lady Penelope promised she would.

“Annoyingly, I'm normally rather good at them. And please don’t be cross about the models? Scott didn’t tell me a lot. Virgil and John filled me in a little more. It wasn’t gossip, they were worried for you, dear boy.” She continued. “But they told me enough to make me wish you’d gotten to be on board your airship’s maiden voyage. Even if it did get sabotaged and end up a rather dangerous affair.”

“Me too. I’d have liked to see the Sky Ship launch at least. Even if it had just been from inside a Thunderbird.” Brains said, a little wistfully. “Maybe if they ever build a second one? Ah-although I doubt it after the cost of the damage I caused-”

“You get that idea out of your head this instant!” Penelope scolded. Brains looked up at her, shocked. Whether it was her Tone of voice, or he hadn’t meant to say that bit aloud, she didn’t care.

“You didn’t cause Skyship’s nosedive into a controversial missile base.” She reminded him. “Those villains who killed the crew and then one another did. You saved us. The shoot-out caused the crash. None of the blame rests on your shoulders.”

“I know but it was my design-?” he tried.

“Absolutely none of the events are your fault and the blame does not rest on your shoulders. If anyone has said otherwise, then they are exceptionally stupid.” Penelope challenged. “And if you argue that it is your fault even out of misplaced guilt or the like, I will personally throw you in that pool, in what you are wearing right now!”

“You y-you’re not meant to lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous for at least two weeks?!”

“Then I will get Parkers and Tin-tin’s assistance. Don’t think I won’t!”

Brains gulped.

“…I-I don’t think I’ve ever known you so cross.”

“Likewise!”

“First at Mr Tracy, then me.”

“Jeff was being, pardon my language, an arse. you dear are listening to your insecurities. No one gets to make you feel small, Brains. not even your own thoughts.” Penelope said stubbornly.

Brains nodded slowly. And sighed, “I know the actions of others weren’t my fault. And no one said t-they were. The opposite in fact. But like you said earlier? About being blamed. It wasn’t in my control what happened. But I still feel bad?”

“And that was only after it crashed. I felt bad about being laughed at and I think that reflected in everything else I worked on for a while. And how I was with the Tracy’s.” Brains admitted. “I can design incredible machines. I know that. but having no brief made it e-extra challenging when its s-shouldn’t have been. And then the answer had been under our noses the entire time.”

“isn’t it just like that sometimes?”

“Hmm…also I’ve never heard you swear before? That’s t-twice in an hour now.”

“I blame the heat. It’s clearly getting to me.”

“If Mr Tracy apologises, Will you forgive him? and stay?”

Penny withdrew her hand.

“And if he doesn’t?” she suggested.

No one had called her. No one had stopped her leaving Tracy Island in the first place.

“Well, then my analyzation of the situation would be wrong. But I very much doubt Tin-tin and the Tracy brothers would let you leave without a fight. especially if you called Virgil. Middle brother and chief peacekeeper.”

“Why should I be the one to extend the olive branch?”

“Would I be here if you h-had? Because they're trying to give you space and also they are g-genuinely terrified of upsetting you further.” Brains said. “Scott will say he’s sorry the moment you get him on a private call. He’s admitted aloud he messed up.”

“If he messed up, then so did I. Disastrously so.” Penelope admitted. “With such an abysmal rookie mistake too. I'm surprised I wasn’t let go of on the spot.”

Brains had unfortunately taken a swig of his drink and nearly choked on it.

“Let Go!? You a-are our top agent!”

“That, I doubt.” Penelope said. “I failed a mission, old boy. Regardless of the weather and the results. The only reason that microfilm was recovered was sheer dumb luck. I didn’t even complete the task, Parker did it for me. All for what? a twisted ankle, bruised ribs and the whole island laughing at or scolding me!”

“We weren’t laughing!”

“It certainly felt like it.”

“w-what did you just tell me about not listening to your own thoughts?” he tried. “I c-could throw you in the pool!”

“Could you? Try it. Dear.” Penelope challenged, with an eyebrow.

Brains slowly backed down. Not without a complaint.

“Why is throwing people and t-things in the pool the biggest threat in my life recently?”

“You are a gentleman.”

“I mean it though. You’re both our friend and the best agent.” Brains insisted. “You go across the world for us, not just London. You’re the only agent he trusts to have a direct link too. And your portrait hangs on the wall. The only one of our networks. Alongside his own sons.”

“…And what if I’m sick of hiding in plain sight?”

It was very quietly asked. She wasn’t sure Brains had heard it. Penelope was about to pretend she hadn’t said it at all and carry on when he spoke again.

“Can you go without? The trills and the subterfuge.” Brains asked. “Sometimes I'm sick of being an inventor. But if I didn’t create? I’d die!”

“Spoke like a true artist…No. I doubt I could retire even if I needed to. And it has been the only enterprise I’ve been in in my life with some moral backbone.” Penelope admitted. “But I know one thing.”

“What’s t-that?”

“I definitely wasn’t made for relaxing when forced too.”

“M-most definitely a Tracy trait.”

“Tosh. I told you, I'm a bad influence on them, remember? But truly, shall we get out of here?” Penelope suggested. “I believe you said our favourite technician mentioned a trip out?”

“I b-believe I did. That's a good idea.” Brains grinned. “So long as this m-means you’re not cross with me for coming out here.”

“No. I'm rather glad you did.” Penelope smiled. “Give me time to change and arrange the car with Parker.”

“I’ll go let Tin-tin know.” Brains agreed getting up. “When will you be back?”

“Will you be coming with us?” Penelope asked with a frown.

“Hmm, no. not s-shopping at least. But I might come for the drive.” He said, “There's also p-plenty of galleries and museums in the town. and a rather fun shooting range just outside of it. Most of us prefer it to the island one even.”

“Oh darling, you love dressing room montage, and you know it.” Penelope teased. “Here. A toast?”

Brains was bemused. But raised his glass anyway. “T-to what?”

“To the whims of Jeff Tracy.” Lady Penelope joked, “And what we put up with sometimes for international rescue.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He beamed. And clinked his glass to hers.

“Oh, and Brains?” She asked. The scientist turned back.

“Y-yes, Penelope?”

“Thank you. For this.” she said sincerely. “I think a ‘little chat’ was long overdue. And far more needed than a holiday.”

[ryttu3k]

Ta'varin 'Tae' Arkenval | Drow (Surface) | Circle of the Land Druid / Cleric of Eilistraee | They/Them | 94

Questions by @sporeservant , found here! A slightly more lighthearted set of answers for my fluffy pastel custom Tav when compared to my Durge, haha.

Favourite weapon: Phalar Aluve most beloved! They don't actually use it much? Like, they're very much not trained in using a longsword, haha. But they have an emotional attachment to it due to the connection to their Goddess, and so it's a permanent part of their gear.

Style of combat: Distance magic user. They mostly use stuff like Moonbeam, Spike Growth, and Call Lightning, although Sunbeam certainly becomes a late-game fave!

Most prized possession: As mentioned, very attached to Phalar Aluve.

Deepest desire: By the end of the game, it's to find a cure for Karlach. You don't willingly go to the Hells for someone you don't intend on helping to the fullest extend of your ability!

Guilty pleasure: They're most comfortable in the wilderness, but secretly… they really like shopping in the Wide.

Best-kept secret: They actually secretly really like the Underdark. It has this weird sort of beauty to it - glowing mushrooms and trees and all. It sort of feels like an insult to Eilistraee, but it's just… a cool vibe.

Greatest strength: A finely balanced combination of gentleness and forgiveness, and a willingness to murder someone if they deserve it. This may or may not be a strength.

Fatal flaw: A finely balanced combination of gentlene…

Favourite smell: Clean green loamy smells, the smell of the forest after rain. Also, freshly baked bread.

Favourite spell or cantrip: Speak With Animals their beloved. It was the first one they ever used (a scroll as a birthday gift) and is still their most-used.

Pet peeve: People who leave trash and stuff around their campsites. The traveller's chest just kept filling up with random trash they kept finding in the wilds so they could dispose of it later. Pick up your shit, people!!

Bad habit: Like. Eating leaves and flowers and mushrooms. One of the reasons they started learning herblore and the like was to work out what would be safe to randomly stick in their mouth. Their favourite is acorn truffle.

Hidden talent: A pretty dab hand with a grass whistle. PHWEET.

Leisure activity: Honestly they just love hanging out outside and chatting with animals. Catching up on gossip with the birds and all. They also enjoy reading and listening to music, and a bit of drawing (albeit not very well).

Favourite drink: Fruity teas. Technically at this point they're not actually teas, they're like, fruit infusions, but they're nice hot drinks with fruits. Tea!

Comfort food: Pumpkin soup, served with freshly-baked bread dripping with a good-quality olive oil, a good sweet caramelised vinegar, and sprinkled with nuts and spices (I'm thinking EVOO, caramelised balsamic, and dukkah specifically, although I don't think it'd be called that in Faerûn. The wiki does, at least, list sesame seeds, coriander/cilantro, cumin, and mint, and hazelnut oil that implies the existence of, well, hazelnuts, has olive oil, and has vinegars, so the dish itself would certainly be possible!). Shit now I'm hungry.

Favourite person: Karlach <3 Aside from their actual girlfriend, though, they adore and look up to Halsin - he reminds them a great deal of their wood elf grandfather, who, while not a druid, had a love of nature too that he instilled in young Tae.

Favoured display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Honestly they're almost like an animal themself in the sense that it's just… sitting and existing near a person they like. Not necessarily touching or talking (although they're not opposed to it!), just… chilling in their space.

Fondest childhood memory: Got that Speak With Animals scroll and was never the same again. Spent that entire birthday just wandering the forest and talking to every animal they could find.

[authorred]

Random Obey Me HC's cause I'm in class and bored

I'm getting to requests so dw dw--I'm opening my ask box around this weekend so :))))) (I'm going oldest to youngest; some may be light NSFW)

Also, it's been a bit since I've played Obey Me, so I may be missing some aspects of their personality

Lucifer:

With human drinks, he would definitely drink red wine, love coffee, and hate tea. I don't know why he would hate tea, but he would. Even just the smell of it will cause his entire face to collapse in on itself

Would probably be the one to drive all the time--or rather he'd prefer it. He always has to be in control of a situation more so than not--and he would need to trust someone a lot to sit in the passenger seat (dad energy)

Dominant bottom (but dom mostly)

Definitely has CEO energy, but would work in an office as a supervisor

Corsets. That's it that's the tweet

Mammon:

He's cannonically scared of ghosts, but would not surprise me if his dumb ass wanted to go ghost hunting with you in the most haunted, decrepit part of the Devildom

Idk why he seems like he'd like strawberry ice cream

Is a hugger when he sleeps. If you're not there sleeping with him he's cuddling with either a pillow or a huge stuffed animal (to which he'd vehemently deny)

Sub-leaning switch (thinking he'd be a service top)

Would cry like a bitch at your wedding but denies he is, even when he's sobbing whilst saying it

Leviathan:

Head kisses make this man soft

Would not mind or care (probably wants you to) if you sat on his lap whilst he gamed or fell asleep in it

Blushes hella madly when you stroke or pet his tail--even subconsciously

Will cosplay for you--close to anything so long as you promise something to him in return (cosplaying as Ruri-chan, probably)

Would barely drink water. Literally. Sometimes you'd have to shotgun water into his mouth (to which he'd choke on it because he's so flustered)

Satan:

Dogs give him hives. Just the sight of them makes him feel itchy (Cerberus may be an exception)

Dom or power bottom

Idk why but I feel like he'd enjoy pink lemonade in secret. Like if you catch him drinking it, he'll vehemently deny he drank it even though you saw him do it

Big spoon. Almost always. If he's ever the little spoon it's because he's in a mood (what that mood may be is up to you)

Is the type to keep a photo of him and you and/or his family (after their issues were resolved) on his bedside table

Asmodeus:

Blushes from non-sexual touches. Craves it, actually

Is initially confused when he realizes you don't see him as just a sex symbol/idol/demon

Take him on a date, give him head kisses, hold his hand, and he is gone

Will keep literally everything you give him, even if it's not 'pretty' he will keep it and will kill close to anyone who tries to get rid of it

Loves fruity drinks and can't really handle hard liquor

Beezlebub:

If you can keep up (or as realistically as you can) with his appetite, he will fall in love almost immediately

Will adore head pats

Service top-leaning switch

Like his twin, general cuddling is something he loves to do (second to eating, ofc)

Gym couple dynamic, 100%. And if you don't go to the gym that's okay too--he'll still gladly show off his muscles for you if you ask

Belphegor:

Cuddles all the mf time

Head scratches 100%

Is literally a cat in human form--he has you, his human, and generally dislikes everyone else (except Beel, but that's a given)

Gets a kick out of being carried to bed (though the first time he almost killed you {again}. After that, he didn't mind it)

If he starts getting feisty with you or you're in a small argument, he'd probably remember the time he killed you and back off a bit

[mrlondonboy]

🔍 Harry Griffin Jr Takes a Lie Detector Test

"  we're  going  to  be  taking  a  lie  detector  test  today.  you  will  be  hooked  up  to  the  machine,  and  we  will  ask  you  a  series  of  questions  -  whether  you  tell  the  truth  or  lie  is  up  to  you,  but  the  test  will  be  able  to  snitch  out  any  lies."

" Seem simple enough."

"  to  start,  what  is  your  first  name  and  what  city  are  we  in  ?  "

"Harold. Or Harry. And we are in the amazing New York City."

"  thank  you.  how  are  you  feeling  today  ?  "

"Just peachy. Had my morning beagle and coffee. I'm content."

"  understandable.  how  about  an  easier  one  -  what's  your  favourite  colour  ?  "

"It's been blue forever. But like a darker blue. I don't know the name, but let's just say dark blue."

"  and  your  favourite  film  genre ?  "

Harry lets out an airy chuckle. "Most people would say Superhero movies, with my track record but I want to make the record straight I do enjoy a good horror thriller."

"  let's  see  -  what  is  one  thing  you  wouldn't  be  found  without ?  "

"It is too "basic"- is that the term?" Harry laughs trying to understand these new terms being tossed around. "My phone. I'm always on it. Text, random Google searches during the day."

"  keeping  it  light,  what's  your  drink  of  choice  ?  "

"Whiskey on the rocks." "That's a lie." "Okay, okay. You got me. I'm kinda of a fruity drink kind of guy. Long Island Ice Tea is up there.

"  which  of  the  following  have  you  attended,  and  would  you  attend ?  "

bold  what's  been  attended,  italicize  what  would  attend  /  attend  again.

the  ballet.  the  met  gala.  the  horse  track.  the  race  track.  a  yacht  party.  the  opera.  the  orchestra.  a  broadway  show.  a  shakespeare  production.  a  concert.  a  comedian.  an  (  american  )  football  game.  a  soccer  /  football  game.  a  documentary  film.  a  film  premiere.  a  polo  game.  art  museum.  wine  tastings.  nyc  sightseeing  tour.  celebrity  sightseeing  tours.  haunted  tours.  charity  galas.  fashion  shows.  fashion  week.  disneyworld  /  disneyland.  a  basketball  game.  a  hockey  game.  a  baseball  game.  a  boxing  match.  a  cricket  match.  the  golf  course.  the  olympics.  

"  oooh,  we're  jumping  into  something  a  bit  heavier  now.  what  is  the  one  thing  you  want  to  achieve  in  life  ?  "

"Not to keep in the footsteps of dear old Dad, but maybe finally get that Oscar. Not necessarily in the acting career but one of my films I produce getting some attention. Outside of my name."

"  who  knows  what  the  fates  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​in  ​​​​​​​store.  ​​​​​​​how  do  you  feel  about  reputation.com ?  it's  ​​​​​​​all  ​​​​​​​anyone  ​​​​​​​seems  ​​​​​​​to  be  ​​​​​​​talking  about  lately."

"I've heard of it. It's a website. I've seen dozen of these in the past couple of years now. My name is always circulating in these outlets. Ever since I've shown my face to the public. I do have to admit this one knows where to get their information."

"  everyone  is  entitled  to  their  own  opinion,  i  guess.  what's  the  weirdest  /  craziest  headline  you've  read  about  yourself  there  ?  "

"Oh, man. A recent one I saw that actually made me laugh, that I had signed on to this trip to space that other celebrities were going. As much as I wish that was true, I didn't make the cut. - I know!" Harry reacted to the gasps behind the cameras. "I'd kill to go to space."

"  what's  something  you  are  currently  working  on  ?  "

"A few projects here and there. Mostly producing. So sorry to disappoint any fans of mine that want another Superman movie any time soon."

"  i'll  look  forward  to  it.  one  last  official  question  -  and  it's  an  easier  one.  cats  or  dogs ?  "

"Thanks. They are some projects that are close to my heart. Oh dogs 100%. I have a Collie, Quinn." Harry was quick to pull out his phone with his free hand. "This is the little guy."

"  personally,  i'm  a  dog  fan  anyday.  anything  else  you'd  like  to  add ?  "

"That this was fun. Only got one beep out of it. Gotta say that's a win."

"  well,  thank  you  so  much  for  joining  us  today  ​​​​​​​-  can't  ​​​​​​​wait  ​​​​​​​to  ​​​​​​​have  ​​​​​​​you  ​​​​​​​back  ​​​​​​​with  ​​​​​​​us  soon."

[payte]

Get to know a Simmer

Thank you so much for the tag, @memoirsofasim!!

Show your wallpaper: My wallpaper is a picture of my boyfriend and I but I will share my lock screen:

Link to the art

I think this art is so pretty and no, I'm still not over The Owl House 😭

Last Song You Listened to: Money - Mystery Skulls (They always make the list 🤣)

Currently Reading: I'm really slacking on this! I haven't been making the time to read like I've been wanting to 😅

Last Movie: The last Naruto movie - my best friend and I are finishing the series this week! I'm so emotional right now 😭

Last Show: See above 😆

Craving: Ice! (Not frozen water but these fruity drinks!)

What are you wearing right now: Gym shorts and a loose black t-shirt with a rainbow pineapple on it

How tall are you: 5'3"

Piercings: I did have my ears pierced but they've closed up now

Tattoos: Not yet! I'm hoping to get my first one done soon!

Glasses/contacts: Nope!

Last thing you ate: A bowl of cheerios and some peppermint tea

Favorite color: Lilac and light pink

Current obsession: Stardew valley! I've been playing Stardew Valley Expanded with my best friend and boyfriend and we've just reached year 3 - the first time I've ever done it! (I also married Harvey for the first time and I love that awkward doctor so much! 😭)

Any pets: The family cat, Ripley! He is a mess but we love him!

10/10 Loaf!

Favorite fictional character: You've caught me in the middle of my Naruto watch, so I have to say Kakashi, but that honestly changes based on what I'm into at the moment!

Last place you've traveled: Myrtle Beach, SC! We go as a family once a year and it's really the most traveling I get to do 😅

I'm going to tag @natolesims, @pixel-bloom, @melsie-sims and @merrymomo! Feel free to ignore and if you want to do this and haven't been tagged, feel free to say I tagged you!

[tres-fidelis]

send ☕️ to get my muse a coffee

Des is gonna give K.C a coffee and sign to her 'If she needs to tal, his hands are always free.'

Coffee hardly ever graced KC's after-dinner refreshment tray. Most delicacies and drinks included fruity mixtures fixed specifically for her palate, considering her dietary restrictions made it difficult to serve anything else. Tea was her preferred beverage of choice, but seeing as the young girl didn't have that option at the current food stand, she made due.

That, and it was bad manners to refuse a complimentary gift. She rather not ask for something different when he went out of his way to order a treat for her.

She took the cup in hand, carefully grasping it in both palms. Its contents were certainly hot since the warmth could be felt through the cardboard cover. A pleasant feeling, though. Her fingers needed a little thawing. Attention diverted from the steaming coffee towards the man's silent hand movements. Another sign user. American signing too.

Was he mute too? Or permanently death?

KC set the cup aside to free her hands and provided her gratitude with a respectful bow, following up with a graceful 'thank you' signed by her right hand.

[thisrabbitiskindofdumb]

i. i may have done it. not all of it, just the first three. however, i did think it was a lot of fun.

its a lot of headcannons.

What is the character’s go-to drink order?

Usagi:

i think he would choose something new every couple weeks; starts with some hot chocolate for a while, moves to some hot apple cider, and then two maybe three weeks later he chooses a jasmine tea.

he gets bored if he has the same thing for too long. usually when he gets bored he’ll copy what kitsune is getting that night.

however, he cannot handle cold drinks. he will drink the hottest drink imaginable in the middle of summer. his friends think he is losing it every time but he always justifies it with " but cold drinks hurt my mouth :[ ."

if he absolutely has to order a cold drink he will either ask for no ice or not have a drink with his meal. (because he's dramatic like that.)

Kitsune:

kitsune gets something different every time, she wants anything and everything. if she’s tried it before she Will Not have it again save for her favorite, she can drink that one again). every time she says that “this is the best drink she’s ever had” and “she's going to drink this and only this for the rest of her life” and then says the same thing about the next drink the time they all go out. (gen likes to poke fun at her a bit for this sometimes)

some days it's bitter, sometimes it's sour, and the first time she had hot chocolate, it amazed her. Hot chocolate is her favorite. she doesn’t really like fruity drinks but that doesn't stop her from ordering it.

(she wont tell anyone this but she can kind of tell when usagi is getting tired of his drink so she will start to order hot drinks for a while until he copies her drink. (Chizu definitely notices and she thinks it's sweet.) )

Chizu:

chizu, on the other hand, finds something she likes and sticks with it for ages. she finds one restaurant, sits at the same spot, eats the same meal, drinks it with the same drink and she is happy. she will do this every time the gang goes out. “hey you guys want to go out?” “yeah, let's  go to this restaurant.” “we've gone there the last 6 times, chizu, let's go somewhere else please.” and then they go to that restaurant again.

as for what the drink is, it's tea. she has a cup of tea year round. it makes her happy :]  she and Usagi like to talk about different kinds of teas that they’ve had and that is the closest thing she will come to having a different drink.

Gen:

gen will try something new every so often. he has one drink that he knows he likes and orders that most of the time, but he’s open to trying something new. sometimes he likes it, other times he doesn’t. 

the drink he falls back on most of the time is cranberry juice. he likes that it is very simple, drink wise. you know what you're going to get, no funny business, no extra fancy thingamajigs, just straight, plain cranberry juice.

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

Usagi:

you know, for someone who had a grape stuck up his nose for a year, his hygiene isn't that bad. it could be better but he doesn't smell all too bad. he doesn't have to be told to take a shower by his friends. 

gen thinks he is very gross but! in his defense! gen thinks everyone except for chizu is gross! and gen will give usagi a hug or a shoulder bump or a high five or what have you so he’s fine. (when gen doesn't is when usagi knows it's been a tad bit too long and he should go bathe.)

he does, however, like his clothes clean. laundry is his favorite chore because he loves the feeling of clean clothes. 

but he actively does not like having a clean room. makes him feel bored and uncomfortable. He eventually just ends up getting a bunch of things to put around his room so it doesn't feel too clean but that was after talking to kitsune about it.

he will Always clean up after himself if he's a guest or in the common spaces of the house. his auntie really made sure to teach him that one as a kid and It Stuck.

Kitsune:

kitsune likes to be clean. she likes the feeling of not having dirt and stuff stuck to her face or arms or ankles or anything else. but even so, she knows she can last a while being unclean. she’s done it before and she can do it again.

her room is pretty cluttered, she has tapestries and puppets and little art pieces strewn about her room to make it feel more full. and they were definitely all acquired legally. mhm. totally not stolen. not a single one.

she also has Every Art Supplies. she likes to make or modify the puppets she has and so she has paints and clay and string and anything else she thinks is cool and can make Good Art.

she and yuichi like to bounce back and forth on ideas for drawings or simply just draw together. its their thing.

Chizu:

chizu likes to keep tidy, she doesn’t mind when things are a little cluttered but she is really happy when things are clean. she feels more at ease when she doesn’t have to worry about cleaning this, that and the next room. 

she was taught to keep things clean when she was training under lady fuwa and if things were not clean, she would get in trouble. so it stood to reason that it would still stress her out, at least a little bit, when things get messy.

she does like cleaning with people though, specifically gen. if she and gen are hanging out one on one then usagi and kitsune tend to come back and find the whole house cleaned and reorganized. it happens every time. without fail.

Gen:

what a shocker, gen likes to keep very clean. he was raised by doctors and is terrified of getting sick. he is absolutely keeping everything clean and tidy and nothing will be dusty because he just got this fancy new duster and it works really well and-!

the house, the car, usagi, the yard, himself. everything. nothing is left unclean. not on his watch.

he really enjoys cleaning with chizu, they don’t have a lot in common, but what they do, they will just talk about while they clean. they also gossip a lot. that’s a blast.

he always keeps wet wipes on his person, and after eating any meal out and about he will wipe the table off. he says it's because he wants to be polite but it's also because he cannot stand the possibility of leaving a mess. makes him feel gross.

(his aversion to all things Dirt gets a bit better after the makane invasion, he didn’t get sick or die after falling in the sludge water stuff, but he still wants to keep things clean.)

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory) 

Usagi:

yuichi has a lot of scars from generally being a kid who lives on a farm. Some scars on his knees and legs from running around, a few on his hands from being careless with tools, and some from when his auntie was teaching him how to cook.

his aunt was actually very careful when training him, sure there were some bruises here and there but never anything to leave a scar.

but when he started training with karasu-tengu, she was more likely to push him around and scruff him up a bit. and this kid has never been one to just stay down, (very spiderman of him) so he would immediately get back up and get his ass kicked again. 

karasu-tengu, at one point, has to say “okay, go take care of your wounds before we continue.” and he would get upset and go take care of himself or whatever. 

after the makane, he would have a scar on his cheek. i just see a lot of fan art with a scar on his face somewhere and i just think it's neat.

He doesnt have any tattoos nor does he want any. it freaks him out. dangerous yokai? no problem. evil aliens set to destroy the world? easy peasy. swords that can cut somebody’s arm clean off? that shit is the coolest.

needles painting stuff on your skin?? Absolutely Not. Please Leave, your shoes are at the door, thank you.

Kitsune: 

kitsune has about the same amount of scars at usagi does. she didn't have a lot of protection from the elements growing up so her access to the proper medical care she needed wasn't exactly available.

she does want a lot of tattoos though. she thinks a really cool really big back tattoo would look really neat and hopes to get one. at some point one day.

sometimes she will try to sketch out a design for her tattoo but it never quite turns out how she wants it to, so she will ask Usagi but it freaks him out too much.

Chizu:

of course she does. she has so many scars. she was kidnapped at a young age to become a ninja. she was trained by other ninja to kill people with other ninja children.

she has scars for days. 

she doesn't really feel bad about them either. she is pretty indifferent towards them actually. nothing positive or negative. 

maybe she starts to think they are cool after kitsune starts to call them cool. Just one day kitsune starts to make comments on how cool or badass she looks and after a while she starts to look in the mirror and she just goes “huh. she’s kinda right.”

as for tattoos, I think she has one or two here and there. couple that are sentimental, one that's from the neko ninja crew, and one that she just thinks looks cool. 

she doesn't really make a big deal out of them. they are there. she has them. let’s move on.

Gen:

gen has less scars than you expect. he has some, being a bounty hunter isn't exactly the safest job on the planet, but when he tells people that he always gets the “oh really? Wow! i never would have guessed!” because people always think that a bounty hunter would have more scars. 

he usually takes care of the smaller wounds quickly so they don't really have the chance to scar over. The bigger ones sure but other than that, no. 

gen does not have nor does he want tattoos. not because they freak him out or that he doesn't have the money or something like that, he just doesn't really want any. doesn't really appeal to him all too much. he’d rather pay for a piece he can keep on his wall or a plant he can keep in his garden. he thinks they look cool on other people and actively encourages kitsune’s want to have a tattoo but they just aren't his cup of tea.

[brandnewhuman]

JASON VOORHEER

RANDOM HC'S

CONTENT:

Tw: canon violence, possible description of body decomposing, mention of bullying, mention of drowning, mature language.

A/N: I couldn't make a post in time for Friday the 13th so I now offer you my shitty takes on the best boy ever. Maybe I'll do one of this for every slasher if you want it.

This man is ridiculously careful and gentle when handling anything. 

He feels like he's too big and too strong but not in a good way. Like he feels he's taking too much space so he tries to compensate by being as soft and gentle as possible 

Sometimes while looking at victimes from afar he gets a little bit sad 

He still aches for that lack of normalcy, you make him feel better tho. 

Knowing that he has someone waiting for him at home makes him feel like he's just a regular man 

His favourite scents are lavender and clean laundry. It reminds him of his mother

If you happen to wash his clothes with a soap that has those scents he will be over the moon 

I feel like he actually enjoys eating healthy like lots of veggies ecc but has a massive sweet tooth

Not for things like sweets but more for like biscuits, cakes ecc

But would never ask you to make them. He doesn't want to bother you!

Likes to take your hand and play with it. He traces every line, every finger and knuckle and stares at it in awe because to him every part of you is like a work of art. 

Nothing about you gets overlooked if he can help it

He loves tea specially the fruity ones like strawberry, orange, blueberry ecc 

He doesn't black tea, the only different type from fruity ones he would drink is vanilla tea

I think that this might be a wild take but Jason gets frustrated very easily

He's not going to be like full on angry but he gets annoyed mostly at himself if he does something stupid or makes a mistake 

After he died one of the things he wouldn't miss is sleep

He has terrible nightmares and funny enough most of them are not about him drowning but his mother's death

Hates to smell so fucking bad all the time cause he knows it may make his s/o uncomfortable so he tries literally everything to cover up the smell

Literally tries to take as many perfumes he can find looking through the victims things

That has led to him collecting pretty perfumes bottles 

Still loves sweet things tho and would eat them even if he doesn't really needs to

He's happy of be back to his s/o but feels really insecure about what he has become

He feels so much more of a monster than what he already did before

Specially with all the nasty aspects of decomposition ecc

If you weren't there before he died he's kinda disappointed to not be able to like finally get back with his mom

And if you're there then he would just get a faint concern about the idea of you having to die one day and him not being able to go with you

He sometimes gets up earlier just to watch the sunrise 

God I love this man so much.