#(( now that fruit salad song is stuck in my head ))

[rube-too-many-fandoms]

good omens. what a silly little fruit salad

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Chicken Bones

First posted: October 2, 2019

Focuses on: Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd

Favorite bookmark: "Jason technically has a panic attack and runs away from dinner" I mean... yes? I guess?

Tier: In top 20 for hits, middle of the pack for everything else

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Not to be weird about it, but I feel like I have... I don't know, eras? Not eras, because I haven't been writing enough for that, but I do have groupings or pockets of fics that come out together that I just really, really like. This is the start of one of them.

Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, that might just be Whumptober. Whoops.

This fic started, really, with me mulling over the fact that Jason Todd murdered people. He hunted people down, trapped them, killed them, and cut off their heads. Comic violence is different from IRL violence in its flamboyance, I know, but that's SUCH a big thing. And comics and fics tend to come at it from the POV of it being a point of strife between Bruce and Jason as a point of principle rather than dealing with the practical ramifications, but I wanted to get into—if you'll forgive the pun—meat of the issue.

“Peace does not come before salvation, and salvation does not come without truth.”—Ekemeni Uwan

This is, as far as I can recall, the only time I've pretentiously opened a fic with a quote, but it was stuck in my head the entire time I was writing. It's from the opening to a song called "Facts" by Lecrae. So he was being pretentious first, really.

His life back in Gotham would never be fully settled. There were still cracks in the sediment, lingering fissures from upheavals both inflicted upon him and created by him, and the ground would never be wholly at rest. . . . But Jason liked to think he had learn to find the rhythm amongst the turmoil. He might not be able to prevent the earth from coming unmoored, but he could learn to anticipate the trembles before they arrived.

I have no idea where the earthquake metaphor came from. It worked, though. And came in handy later. But also I really like the idea of Jason working through lingering issues but being prepared to deal with them as they come? That's progress, baby! That's health!

It had been a good day, a good day at the end of a string of good days, a day that Jason had woken up happy to be in.

I think I felt a little bad about some of my previous Sad Jason fics. But also, psychologically, he needed the good days to make the sudden revelation snap into place.

He had cleaned in the morning, dust and hair and grime flying up in clouds before duster and broom and lost beneath cascades of soap bubbles.

I prefer Jason as a neat freak. I also absolutely pictured him scrubbing on his knees and singing to soap bubbles like Cinderella.

They were seated in the back dining room, the glass doors rolled aside to let the crisp autumn air filter into the little-used space.

Logistics, logistics, my head spins with logistics. I hate visualizing spatial things. This one was weirdly easy, though. I knew what was going to happen next needed SPACE, so it needed to be outside. But it was also a meal, so I needed a sort of in-between space. The nice thing about the Manor is it's very TARDIS-y. Just slap on an extra room. Unfold that pocket dimension.

Bruce had his collar unbuttoned to his sternum and sat with his elbows on the table, hands loosely clasped as he listened to his eldest.

Casual ho Bruce Wayne, ilu

The menu for the evening was a compromise between the butler’s exacting standards and the relaxed nature of an indoor picnic. The initial pitch for fried chicken had been rejected and replaced by individual Cornish hens for that classy Alfred touch. Plates were passed around, a hen per person (except for Damian, who was given a fruit salad), and enough sides to make Jason feel contentedly full just looking at them.

Again, logistics strike. I knew what the main course had to be for the story, roughly, but Alfred's not going to plunk down a store-bought rotisserie chicken on the table. I also more or less hew to the fanon of vegetarian Damian, so that was another obstacle. Have I mentioned that I don't cook? Food is a mystery. Rich people food is a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Why do I do this to myself.

Dick’s story reached its peak, the air around them bright with the bite of autumn and the wheeze of Bruce’s asthmatic goose laugh.

I can't remember where I picked up the idea that Bruce has a thoroughly unattractive real laugh—Audrey, probably. Everything I pick up and can't immediately attribute inevitably circles back to CEC. I like it an awful lot, though.

Jason passed the basket of rolls to his left, then took the leg of his hen and twisted. It was like a gunshot, like an explosion, like a death. He didn’t hear it so much as feel the snap of the toothpick-wide bone against his fingertips. It felt like an earthquake and he was shattering.

I am curious how many people forgot that the fic started with a warning and were lulled into happiness and contentment just like Jason.

Blunt fingers touched his wrist.

Bruce Wayne has square fingertips, I will die on this hill.

Bruce caught up with him yards deep into the lawn, in the empty space between the house and the ring of trees that separated the Manor from the rest of the lawn.

LOGISTICSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. I'd already written about the exterior of the Manor in a few other fics so I had to keep those details AND figure out exactly where to place Bruce and Jason that would make sense both for them and for the family watching from the deck. I didn't want anyone else involved.

Also, note that Bruce booked it.

He wanted to keep running, to run and run and run until he passed the eastern edge of the world and drowned in the sun and the sweetwater.

Hello Narnia reference, specifically my favorite book in the entire series.

The others were watching from the house. He knew this without turning to look, could feel the pressure of their attention and concern like chains around his neck.

In my dreams, someone would draw this. Jason and Bruce in the forefront, crouched in autumn golds and reds, the rest of the family standing alert and alarmed on a raised brick patio.

Also, some part of the vibe of this backyard comes directly from my aunt's big house that we would visit before she got divorced. Not a thing about it is the same and yet, the vibes, the vibes.

Bruce was here and Bruce knew. Bruce had been there, had seen, had still invited Jason to his table. Jason whirled, reaching blindly for a hand he knew would be there.

This is part of what I was really eager to dig into, not only Jason remembering what he did and fighting to reconcile that resurfaced memory of who he was with who he is but also grappling with what that must meant for about about Bruce.

Even without knowing who was reaching, Bruce’s hand would always be there.

I don't remember writing that specific line and I want to time travel back just to high-five myself. EVEN WITHOUT KNOWING WHO WAS REACHING, BRUCE'S HAND WOULD ALWAYS BE THERE.

He had seen a video once of a beach as the water pulled out, sucked back by the tsunami building out at sea. While disaster gathered miles away, tourists had gathered to gape at stranded sea creatures, gasping on the newly exposed seabed. Jason felt like one of the fools stuck in the muck, wet sand squelching between his toes. Disaster was coming. It wasn’t here yet.

See, the earthquake metaphor in the beginning is coming back, Fukushima style. (Those kinds of videos freak me out, PLEASE be aware of what an impending tsunami looks like.)

He was on the lawn and then he was in the trees. Jason's voice had been building, rising higher and higher like the crest of a wave, like the crescendo, towering above and throwing the world into deep shadow. But Bruce was the impact, the force of the ocean crashing down on him. Bruce’s hands gripped his arms like iron bands, lifted him off his feet, and dragged him into the ring of trees.

I know I was mentally seeing a specific action segment from a movie when I wrote this because of how clearly I can see Bruce react and haul Jason bodily away. I just can't remember the movie now. Pity.

Jason knew he had blood on his hands. He knew what he had done. But he had forgotten how it had felt to hack through the vertebrae of another human being. How it had felt to plant his boot on a broad, lifeless back to get the purchase to sever the last few stringy tendons of flesh. How it had felt to chuck his prize into a waiting bag like a piece of rotten fruit.

Yeah, a little gruesome, but I wanted to treat comics violence as real violence for a minute. If I'm to treat these characters with realism and common sense, then fine, we're going to go all the way. Taking a life deliberately is a psychological hurdle most people cannot cross (thankfully), and decapitation is a huge step even beyond that. The actions Jason took were unnecessary, depraved, and evil. That was why he did them, for the shock value derived from breaking such innate taboos. He was never meant to be treated as right or justified in any way, and I am staring factions of the fandom dead in the eye when I say this.

“How can you stand to look at me?” Jason’s throat felt scraped raw and the question was little more than a rasp. Bruce shifted slightly, an inquiry without words. “I killed people, Bruce,” Jason said, voice cracking anew at the confession. “Not just killed. I decapitated them. And I liked it. How can you—how can any of you—“ “You are my son.”

something something mortifying ordeal of being known something something unconditional love not meaning excusing all because of love but persevering even through the inexcusable to labor to a place of reconciliation and redemption

“Do you still love Catherine?” Bruce asked.

I had zeeeeeero idea how I was going to dig myself out of this conversation or find an explanation that was satisfactory to me for how Bruce could be so steadfast without excusing or minimizing what Jason did, but then, tada. Yay brain.

“She made choices, Jay, and they weren’t always good. Some were very bad, and you paid the price for them. You both did. But her addiction was real, and it wasn’t an excuse, but it was a reason. And you still love her.”

Catch me also separating the deification of Catherine through Jason's eyes from objective reality.

Bruce’s thumb wiped the last lingering tear from Jason’s cheek. Jason huffed a broken laugh, embarrassed at last. “Thanks, B.” Bruce didn’t answer. His only acknowledgement was to pull his arm around Jason’s shoulders and guide them both toward the Manor where their family waited for their return.

w o w that last bit is a doozy since I wasn't even writing The Return yet and wouldn't know for AGES that the two fics were even connected. Huh.

Also, the secret tucked into the end note was something I knew while writing but couldn't figure out a way to work in (Bruce would NEVER tell Jason that and Jason can't know, from his own perspective), so it's just a little treat for readers now.

And lastly, this fic was originally published under the name "Chicken Leg" but that felt wrong and stupid so I changed it almost immediately.

[dasloddl]

Tagged by @pumpking64

Tag some people you want to get to know better!

Relationship status: married, obviously actually single tho

Song stuck in my head: diamonds (rihanna) because that was the last song they played on the radio before i exited the car

Last song I listened to: diamonds (rihanna) on the car radio (tho i didn’t listen to it until the end), on Spotify it was ameno (era)(only listened to it halfway), the previous „fully listened“ song before was stressed out - mtv unplugged live (tøp)

Three favourite foods: salad, anything fruit related, can’t go wrong with sushi/summer rolls/…

Last thing I googled: sports offer at my uni (wanted to see whether they offered aerial silk (they don’t :/))

Dream trip: some warm country with the bluest water you could imagine, or a sailing trip (that’s definitely on my bucket list)

Anything I want right now: fresh air (the air is very stuffy in the car currently), oh god… a break… like just a tiny vacation without having any responsibilities

Tagging @lynn-or-something @schuerk @daency and anyone who wants :)

[ladyimaginarium]

i was tagged ∘⋄૮꒰ྀི ◔ .̫ ◔ ꒱ྀིა ෆ⋆ by @tearfulangel !! <3

relationship status: bodily im& single romantic wise, but my& irl bestie @wilbursartplace is a joy to have around & we& miss u jojo, we're& queerplatonic partner / plush systems w/ the cathedral system / @briala / leli who we& love v much !! our& familial sibling systems are andrew / the morcialists / @morcialists & @agentwhiskeysgf / anderson/kafka / the narcos system who we& adore v much & hope they're okay. im& also in an polyamorous romantic insys relationship w/ eren& & mello& & in familial & platonic relationships w/ others in my& system. :V

favorite color: teal !

favorite food: pizza, fruit salad ( if you want smth healthy lmao ) or chicken nuggies or chicken tornadoes or ramen. its hard tbh LOL

song stuck in my head: antlers — ethel cain & carmen — lana del rey & beautiful & bad — nicole dollanganger

last thing i googled: ethel cain & now im& looking at her merch... they're all sold out tho :<

time: 5:55PM EST.

dream trip: pretty much every continent really, but im& digging china & japan as the first options.

something i want: real life wings, take a roadtrip on a lil bus & take my& friends, unconditional happiness & love, an abundance of funds, to go to a billie eilish concert w/ jojo, to rent a cottage for leli & me& so we can vibe, start a queer motorbike/motorcycle queer gang w/ a, to go horseback riding on the beach or through the woods or through the mountains w/ friends, voice training for gender & plural reasons, to help others in need, my& ceremonial spirit name & spirit animal, astral projection, to go fucking feral, magic, get some more pretty clothes & wigs, learn how to do makeup & maybe some drag, the ability to physically shapeshift bc that would mean everything to us& as a collective, finally publish my& upcoming poetry book in the works, my& future service dog, a wheelchair for cfs & pots, inner peace, j. a lot. /lh

i tag (with no pressure ofc): @briala @wilbursartplace @enchanted-moura @dethqveen @aabblleeddnntt @abri-chan @librastrai @tearfulangel @emmiewlw @dreamlandsystem & anyone else who wants to !

[safeashousespdf]

tagged (tangentially) by @saintflint (i just want to answer some fun little questions) <3

relationship status: single…. girl mutuals you know what to do

favorite colour: blood orange, chartreuse 🧶🍐

song stuck in my head: cool about it (boygenius)

last song i listened to: various storms and saints (florence + the machine)

three favorite foods: a good chicken/turkey sandwich, california rolls with spicy mayo, a fresh fruit salad

last thing i googled: the ‘this barbie is’ meme (trying to explain it to my mom)

dream trip: yukon, ca (idk what’s up there i just decided i wanted to go one day and it’s been an obsession ever since)

anything i want right now: to finish my fuckin wip. also a venti iced matcha latte with oat milk.

tagging @reyesstrand @astudyinsubtext @evcndiaz @lovesgalores @cringefailmarriage @colonoscopys

[nobodysdaydreams]

I was tagged in this question game by @itsgoghtime Thank you friend! (For this and all your lovely posts on my fics!)

relationship status : I have actually been dating someone for the past few years (please don't ask me how. I can't offer any advice. I just got very lucky. They are out of my league, but they find me funny, and I am rolling with that).

favorite color : kind of a weird one, but pink. I just love the different shades and aesthetics, it's a very fun bright color.

song stuck in my head : This literally changes every 3-5 seconds but at the moment "Psycho” by Maisie Peters, which is very catchy.

last song I listened to : “All the right moves” by One Republic.

three favorite foods : My favorite foods are, apparently, the same favorite foods as someone on the writer's team of the Mysterious Benedict Society TV show, which makes it very difficult to watch because I keep getting hungry, and it doesn't help that they spent so much time focusing on the preparation of the food with whole scenes dedicated to it. My favorite fish? Salmon. My favorite meat? Steak. My favorite salad? Caesar. My favorite fruit? Raspberries. I know these are popular choices, but still.

last thing I googled : Bread recipes. I don’t cook or bake much, but I want to get better.

dream trip : I've traveled in the US before, but I've never been to the West Coast, so that would be nice.

anything I want right now : Thoughts and prayers as I recover from surgery (I’m fine but I’ve been a little out of it, so sorry if fic updates are a bit slow).

tagging : I think most if not all my mutuals and followers have been tagged in this already, so I’ll try to pick people I think haven’t been tagged yet: @myfairkatiecat @papermillll @kneeslapworthy (if you have been tagged, feel free not to respond, or don’t respond at all if you don’t want to. And, if I didn’t tag you and you want to do this, consider this me tagging you).

[thissortofsorcery]

Tag people you want to get to know better!

Tagged by my bestie @dragonflylady77 @lovebillyhargrove @starkstruck27 thank yooou

A song constantly stuck in my head: well whenever I'm in a bad mood my brain starts to sing "daaaaay after daaay i get angryyyy and i will saaaaay" so I guess it's Add It Up by Violent Femmes

Last song I listened to: Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival

Top three foods: These change a lot. Right now: Paçoca (brazilian peanut sweet), my mom's cabbage salad, and any fruit salad. I'm really into cold/fresh food right now? Which is weird because it's winter.

Last thing I googled: "What does catty-corner mean"

Dream Trip: Going to New York in September to see Greta Van Fleet

Anything I want right now: That fucking Hell Book I wanna read

Thanks for the tag!!! It's been a long time since I've done one of these, and I've been feeling a little isolated lately. You're all angels 💛💛💛💛

No pressure tags: @adelacreations @hephaestn @shieldofiron @robthegoodfellow @imsodishy @discodeviant

this time i didn't check who's been tagged already, so just ignore me if you've already done it!

[girlbloggerdotcom]

tag some people you want to get to know better

thanks for tagging me @lightanight <3

song stuck in my head: currently is Everything We Had by The Academy Is...

last song i listened to: Chicago by Sufjan Stevens

three favourite foods: fruit salad my mum makes, tiramisu, hk style french toast :)

last thing i googled: free epub of house of leaves lmaoo

dream trip: omg i love travelling.... would love to go to taiwan just for the food, but dream trip would also be going to all the museums around europe + all the places I learnt about in history

anything i want right now: to make more friends at uni next semester, im at a pretty good place mentally rn so it doesn't bother me much but its quite a lonely experience imo and u have to put way more effort to make friends than u had to in highschool

tagging: @all-the-bad-dreams-that-you-hide @purplepinksummer if u guys want to :)

[sherlock-is-ace]

rules: tag 10 people you want to get to know better:

I was tagged by the lovely @thefalconrises Thank you Tara! <3

relationship status: QPR

favourite colour: black, yellow and blue

song stuck in my head: Revolting Children (I watched Matilda the other day and it's been stuck in there ever since lol)

last song I listened to: Black Pink's Shut Down. I heard a cover of it and wanted to know what the original sounded like :P

three favourite foods: ice cream, the strawberries and cream pie my mum makes, fruit salad. (It's too hot for me to think about warm meals right now)

last thing I googled: "Boys Planet english subs" (I'm watching Boys Planet now, hence why I heard Shut Down by Black Pink lol)

dream trip: Honestly anywhere lol There's so many places I wanna go to. The Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam cause there's an exibit I really want to see. The scottish and welsh countrysides, England so I can see the Horne Section live. Portugal because it's absolutely beautiful, Tierra del Fuego if we're keeping it in the country...

anything I want right now: I want it to stop being so hot here! That's the main thing. But I also want to get paid for the work I already finished 😅

tagging: @tabelschnasse @misery99 @catsarecutebutaliens not 10 people but still lol Feel free to ignore <3

[elysofnir]

🍑 : how meticulously does my muse look after their physical appearance? do they spend a lot of time on their hair, makeup, grooming, and clothing? is there a particular reason why they do or don’t?

Fruity Headcanons | Accepting

I can be corrected if I’m wrong, but there’s really no IC proof regarding physical appearance, or like what Tana thinks of herself as far as physical features go. (In her support with Ephraim, she does ask him what he thought of her hair and dress on her birthday party, but this was more of a poor attempt at flirting/getting him to compliment her LOL ) 

So, I like to HC that there is a certain standard she does hold herself up to being the princess of Frelia (can’t go out looking a mess, what will that say about Frelia?) but at the same time, I don’t think she’s the type to have a mirror on hand to touch up. I also think that she’d be the type to wear and own nice things, but really not think much of it. Like if we’re talking modern AU, she’d be the girl wearing designer stuff and say “Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on.” HAHA

As a princess, though she insists on friends dropping the title for familiarity sake and to treat her seriously, I do still think that she looks after her appearance in some meticulous manner. I would probably say she has a kind of mix of both wanting to fit into a certain aesthetic and also having it be functional. 

So, taking her in game appearance as an example... Her hair must always be done in the morning, though, it is pulled into a high ponytail so it’s not in the way. Her outfit, while her skirt is very short and her outfit in general probably isn’t what you would think a knight should be wearing as “armor,” it serves its purpose because let’s be real, the shorter your shorts/skirt is, the more mobility you have. I think it was said somewhere that pegasus knights have their legs exposed to bond with their mounts? Either that or it was some HC that I kind of just took and ran with haha... It could be the latter because if this were true, then it would be consistent across the games. 

But anyway, the tldr is: she looks after her appearance so she can be presentable as a royal representative of her home country, but vanity is the least of her concerns.

[thebloker]

ooh tag game!!

Tagging 10 people I’d like to get to know better!! @devilswalkingstick @eggonnoodle @threedroidsforsweetrevenge @who-needs-words @kalgalen @tortoiseoffury @horseboneologist @dathen @enderbro3300 @splitting-infinities and anyone else feel free to chime in <3

thanks for the tag @saltqueer this was fun <3

relationship status: single, and content

fave color: GREEN yes good

fave food: I love food so much it’s hard to choose. Fried pickles bc I am craving them. Fruit salad bc it’s hot and fruit is good. Pierogies bc yes of course. Anything with cranberries!! Cheese and crackers and jam I need to just go make a snack

song stuck in head: Faroe’s song from the Malevolent podcast I keep catching myself humming it throughout the day

last thing googled: warm synonyms (writing is hard skdlsjshfk)

dream trip: Newfoundland!! Idk where or have anything particular in mind just. Ocean and cool weather good I want to walk by the water and wear a big sweater

last book read/currently reading: just finished Thirteen Storeys!! Now reading a collection of Robert Frost poems but will also pick up something else while I do

last book enjoyed: I really enjoyed Thirteen Storeys but also want to give a different answer so I just finished Guards! Guards! and LOVED it a lot

last book hated: THE CATCHER IN THE RYE. required reading in high school and I still can’t stand it

fave thing to cook/bake: ooh I don’t do it often but I do love making bagels from scratch!! Also cookies bc they’re easy and I will eat them right as they come out of the oven (do I burn my tongue yes will I learn a lesson no)

most niche dislike: I have been lingering on this question for so long. I don’t like driving cars with the push button start is that something?? I like turning the key I need it it’s part of my driving routine

opinion on the circus: cirque du soleil fucking rules I’ve been to a few conferences where they talk about the technology and production that goes into and find it VERY cool!! this is the only circus I’m familiar with tbh

sense of direction: decent if I’m paying attention but if I lose focus it’s all over

[kraniumet]

tagged by @ingoblingo :-)))

relationship status: comfortably living the bachelor life. ✌️

favorite color: it’s cyclical. baseline: the primaries. been in a very beige + red&green period lately.

favorite food: if left to my own devices i’m eating. crackers & biscuits . olives. fruit. cheese. raw vegetables. nuts. peaches and cream. cured meats. tomato, red onion and feta salad. caesar salad. any kind of wrap or rice bowl. and schnitzel.

song currently stuck in my head: genesarets sjö by kjell höglund… which is true 25% of any given year.

five favorite songs: never ask me this i’m gonna have to improvise a current mood. a. this is love - utada hikaru. b. lifetime piling up - talking heads. c. someone like you - blue for two. d. zuttomo - shinsei kamattechan e. twist and crawl - the beat

last thing i googled: image search: “sebastian brideshead revisited” followed by “usami akihiko teddy”

current time: 15:51. once again on a train.

dream trip: i want to revisit tokyo or venice sooo badly. but now that i’m extremely broke and don’t have it subsidised by my education i’ll settle for. local castle ruins.

something i want: to get my drivers license 😎✋🕶🥹

currently reading: alternating between camus’ plague and melchor’s paradais. and really looking forward to starting rodoreda’s death in spring 🍷

last series: making my way through riverdale with my brother :)

last movie: crank: high voltage

currently working on: writing my cv and cover letter :-/ and you know. driving.

aaand i’m tagging: @docnoctem @elapsed-spiral @tomoyoo @joelleity (absolutely no pressure)

[shakey-hands]

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

[writebecauseyoucannotbreathe]

Ultimate Ship Meme: Azulaang

Rate the Ship -  

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Until I say so. I can see them being together after death as spirits.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Ooooh boy. Azula struggles to understand friendship. I think she'd fall in love fast and hard but take the longest to realize. Aang wouldn't let himself get attached at first because Azula is unapologetic and one of the things I like about Azulaang is how it would push Aang to deals with the nitty gritty gray, not in a The Fire Nation was right all along way but in how even Kyoshi and Roku's conflict resolution let to disagreements. I think it would take Aang longer to fall in but once they reach a semblance of common ground he'd be well aware he's falling in love and would enjoy the ride.

How was their first kiss? - Let's see my fanfics. In Blue it was awkward. In Weightless it was sweet. In Smut it was horny and hate filled. In canon I think their first kiss would be very passionate and then they snap back to reality and Aang would evade while Azula denies so they wouldn't talk about it but they'd for sure be thinking about the kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Technically Azula. As soon as Aang hears about a Fire Nation wedding, either his friends or he learns about Ozai and Ursa's wedding, his mind would be set on a wedding. He wouldn't say anything but he'd squirrel away relevant wedding information like he'd hear a song and go "I want that instrument to play at my wedding." But Azula would have her life planned out by other people and there'd be a set date where Ozai now Zuko are supposed to comb through suitor requests (it was probably Ursa's role. If she's there she'd talk to Azula directly instead of Lo and Li. I don't think Lo and Li are high enough rank to determine the suitor but I think it would be customary/expected for their input to be asked). Azula would tell Aang something along the lines of "I should be wed." and he'd agree and then Azula will spend an abnormally long time wondering if he married her because he liked her or because it's his duty until she asks him while he's discussing potential baby room colors pre wedding.

Who is the best man/men? - Sokka and Toph. Azula was going to pick Momo but he made a better flower girl. Yes she did this to annoy Zuko (and because Toph didnt want to wear the bridesmaid outfit) it's okay though Fire Lord Zuko was the guest of honor.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Katara, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee. Mai pretends she hates the outfit but she's secretly pleased.

Who did the most planning? - Aang did the most thinking but Azula did the most planning.

Who stressed the most? - Externally Aang. Internally Azula.

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

100% Azula's fault. Aang has no clue what Fire Nation weddings are supposed to be like.

Aang: Wow I can't believe all weddings in your Nation are this big.

Azula: They're not. It's because I'm Royalty and you're the Avatar.

Though I hc that Aang wants to get married in all the different Nations and Azula secretly wants to experience a small wedding so they get married 3 more times with one of them being a very small Air Nation wedding.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Hmmm I'm not sure. On one hand, Ozai redemption. On the other hand, Ozai death.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Aang. Azula thinks she wants to be on top but she'd rather be pampered and Aang is more comfortable communicating and attending to needs. Aang has no strong preference either way and they do switch but this is their usual dynamic.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Azula but she denies it.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

I think it's up to the reader's preference but I can see them being very private (Azula) and naturally talented (Aang) to the point where they assume every couple has sex daily. Hc that Aang and Suki talk about sex freely (ex: When I do __ should I __ or do girls prefer ___? I can never tell with Azula. Why do guys do ___ after ____ ? I've tried asking Sokka but he doesn't give me a straight answer.) Much to the fear of Sokka and Azula.

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

Again up to the reader. They both like learning new things and are prodigies so I think they'd end up reading about things to try in bed (Azula) and would try things out to see what they like (Aang) until they learn what they and each other generally like/dislike.

How long do they normally last? - 

Does the Avatar State remove your refractory period? >;3c

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - No. Aang likes overstimulating.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

Neither can dirty talk. Azula is rougher. Aang likes to take it slow. She sets the pace in the beginning but he decides when it ends.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Azula refuses to cuddle in public but in return they cuddle all night.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - hc them having twin boys at first with one firebender and one airbender because poetry. But Azula really wants a girl so they have a third child she is an airbender with Aang's charm and knack for getting in trouble and Azula's ruthlessness. Amon kidnaps her and instead of easily escaping (Aang's genes) she instead viciously mocks him the way only a preteen can (Azula's genes.) It's traumatic enough for Amon even before the parents show up. Then Aang wants another one and Azula wants another firebender so they do the do and surprise triplets! (maybe it has to do with ejaculatimg in the Avatar State lol) So 6 in total and lets say its 3 boys 3 girls with 3 airbenders 3 firebenders.

How many children will they adopt? - None. Azula is wary of motherhood and I know people like to hc Aang as adopting and while I can see him acting as a father figure to several kids I think he'd greatly prefer biological kids especially airbenders. It's a flaw that was barely touched upon and def not handled well in Legend of Korra.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Servants or Aang. After a kid or two Azula would be comfortable enough to change the diapers but it would still be mostly Aang.

Who is the stricter parent? - Depends on the kid. Aang is more lenient with airbenders and Azula with firebenders or girls. I can see Azula being strict with training & studies but not with sharing whereas Aang would have less rules but they'd be more heavily enforced (ex: no airgliding without supervision until you've mastered the safety course)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Azula. She's pretty lenient with the term dangerous esp. when it comes to firebending as long as basic safety measures are applied (ex: you can pracrice lightning as long as it's not pointed towards yourself aka dont be Zuzu) but Aang is of the mindset "How are you gonna learn airbending without dangerous stunts?" And after the first few incidents she started stepping in.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Azula but Aang cooks them.

Who is the more loved parent? - Appa

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Azula. When Aang attends the teachers shower him and his kids with compliments ("You're doing so well teaching your kids the values of the Air Nomads. It must be so hard being The Last Airbender"). They do the same with Azula but unlike Aang she sees through it and manages to get an accurate assessment of how their kids are doing.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Aang was more happy than sad. Azula cried before and after.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Aang. He is a notorious lawbreaker. Azula would bail the kids and she could do so quicker than Aang in a few cases because of her connections but she'd be mad so their kids would rather call Aang or break themselves out.

Cooking: 

Who does the most cooking? - Tied. Aang at first but then Azula wants to learn and after Aang teaches her since she has less experience she finds more enjoyment in cooking.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - 

Technically Aang since he's a vegetarian. Azula hasn't tried as many foods and she's used to not making a fuss at the family dinner table to the point of which Aang notices.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Both. Aang has a better eye for vegetables/fruits and Azula is better with prices (it's not about the cost it's about the value).

How often do they bake desserts? - Aang bakes them when he can/weekly. They're fruit based so if Azula doesn't want dessert he gives it to Momo or flings it at a target.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Gee I wonder. Aang eats salad Azula eats meat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Aang but Azula tends to figures it out. Azula is more likely to plan a dinner but she wouldn't make it a surprise.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Aang but Azula is a close second. It would be a tie if it wasn't for the bathhouse.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Accidentally? Aang. On purpose? Azula.

Who cleans the room? - Servants or Aang.

Chores: 

Who is really against chores? - Azula hates cleaning up but she's neater.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Aang.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Aang.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Azula.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Aang.

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Azula. In the Fire Nation Palace Aang has taken to chatting with Azula in the Royal Spa while he feeds her (and mostly himself) cherries.

Misc:

Who takes the dog Appa out for a walk? - Aang

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Never. Once they like the room they like the room. If its an event they'll go to a different location for it or leave the Air Temple as is.

What are their goals for the relationship? -

To stay together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -

Aang slept for a hundred years so I'll give it to him.

Who plays the most pranks? - Tie. They've both pulled elaborate pranks as kids.

[sunflowerryvol6]

Movement - H.S

Warnings - Angst

WC - 2.4k

Hey! So I promise I don't intend to write such angsty things, but it just came to me! Hope you like it. Feedback is always welcome, and my ask box is open for requests. This might have a part two, but I'm not sure yet, let me know if you would like it. Please like and reblog. I have some more non-angsty ideas, but I'm stuck, so I'll try to work on them and put them out.

Masterlist

Today Mohini sat by the windowsill in her parent's home, silently counting fruits on the mango tree in her neighbours' yard. Teentaal played in the back. Shed, she was doing her warm-ups when she got distracted. The dark green raw mangoes were a clear sign that summer has begun in full swing. She and Harry had come down to India arguably during the worst time of the year. But this was the only time her guru(teacher) could give her the time she needed during the year. Mohini has been up since 5 am in doing stretches for a very strenuous riyaaz by herself before stepping away for class with her teacher.

Harry wasn't awake yet, he usually wakes up by around 7, and she's well into her hour-long tatkar footwork by then. She comes out to the terrace balcony to open up and use the more vacant space for chakkars (pirouettes). She sets her mat down and starts with sun salutations and some prayer. Silently working on arm movements where teentaal plays dimly in the background. She thinks back to how she and Baba would do riyaaz together. She had become a dancer because of him, of course. He was the one that pushed her to pursue her dream to become a dancer. If not for Baba, she'd have never met Harry. The same Harry who was now asleep in the room upstairs, who she doesn't want to wake up so early, which is why she pushes tatkar to the last of her riyaaz. She makes a mental note to tell him all about the time she and Jaya stole mangoes from their neighbours' yard and how she wants to show him how to do it, to recreate that memory in a way. With that thought, she goes back to working on her pirouettes.

He's not really used to the muggy heat in Mumbai, but it's not too unpleasant. They try to avoid stepping out when it's hot anyway. Today he's pleasantly lulled out of sleep by the sound of her ghungroos. This his favourite way to wake up, he thinks. That lights up an idea in his mind. He knows she'll be working on her footwork for a bit. It gave him enough time to scour through his stuff and find his latest purchase, the Exakta RTL 1000. He knew it was the right moment to take it out for a spin. A Photowalk was due, but with their conflicting schedules, they hadn't ventured into town yet. Staying close by in the suburbs, so Mohini could help out with her dance teachers classes. They did have plans to explore the city, maybe go away for the weekend, but hadn't been in a rush. They were here all throughout the Indian summer and some of the monsoon. He slowly walked down the stairs, camera in hand, ventured out into the balcony where he knew the music was coming from. He could hear her feet patter away to the rhythm of the music. Looking at her right now, he's taken back to the first time he'd seen her at the dance studio a few years ago. He'd been there rehearsing for treat people with kindness music video, and she was in the studio room right next to his, blasting Fineline. It had really caught him by surprise, so he wanted to see who was playing the music. He was met with Mohini at her finest, in a red flowy cotton tunic and loose linen pants, she had these gold bells tied to her ankles that he now knows are called ghungroos. She was performing to his song, easy to say he was in awe. The way she moved effortlessly to the music, was really a treat to watch. He stood by the door and watched her perform to the whole 6 minute song, tearing up by end at intensity and fervour her performance exuded. He knew then that he was done for. After watching her for so long, he felt obligated to tell her how much he loved it. He approached her, only for her to get really startled and then upset that he was eavesdropping. He apologised of course, but he was expecting her to recognise him, considering the song, you know? Turns out, her friend had hooked her up to a gig at an art gallery in London to do an experimental piece; and she also suggested the song. Mohini really had no clue about him. What were the odds that she would run into this international pop star in a beat-up studio in Hampstead? But that's precisely what happened. He asked her if he could attend this said performance since it was his song and all. She reluctantly agreed and told him where it was. He went there the next week, in a poor disguise, to catch the least attention possible. But he needn't have done that, because nobody cared who he was, at Akademi Dance, they were there for her. They watched in awe, tearing up just like he did that same week. He didn't need a better sign. It was love at first sight, really, at least for him. He called Jeff after that performance and had his management contact her. It wasn't that hard. She was very known with the south Asian classical dance community but tough to book. So he went back to that studio in hopes of finding her there. Today he's not ashamed to admit, that he went there consistently for 2 weeks before she showed up, surprised to see him there. He told her what he had in mind.

Today that's known as one of the most viewed classical meets western ballad performance. They had to contact the gallery to erase any trace of that performance. Mohini rechoreographed it to the music, with Harry and his inputs, though they were very few, if at all. With his audience, she had dance companies contacting from all over the world. But all Moh wanted was to stay in London and teach. The one thing he hopes, she remembers fondly, is her falling in love with him during that project. Rest is history. He went on tour for the album. She continued teaching, performing a fair bit. The two met up at different venues, depending on where the other person was.

The morning sun hitting her just right, sweat glistening her face and chest. She had a thin gold chain with an H pendant around her neck which swayed as she moved. Her hair was slightly damp, likely from the heat and her practice. Mohini's side was facing him. She was wearing a light pink tunic with loose white linen pants. He was waiting for her to turn so he could quickly capture the elation on her face that he knows is there when she's practising. "Moh! Why don't yeh give me dazzle?"

She turns when she hears Harry, quickly covering her face with her palms. "H! I'm so sweaty right now! Stop it!" she's laughing now. Having stopped dancing, he chases her around the balcony getting as many photos of her as he could. He stops when he's cornered her at the edge. Her back hit the rim of the balcony, she leaning outwards. He puts the camera on the table where her speakers are placed and locks her within his hold. Both hands on either side of her waist, she's breathing heavily now, adrenaline coursing through her. He slowly moves one finger to swipe the sweat that gathered on her exposed chest. Her breath hitches at that, taking in the look in his eyes, but she knows she can't back away now, so she takes charge, grabbing him by his face, inching closer to kiss him. Just when he thinks she's going to kiss him, she leans forward and gently nibbles on his ear, which has his knees weak. She whispers, "Think we should smoke that blunt, Jaya got us last week", and ducks under his arm, laughing as she runs back into the house. "I'll get yeh back fo' that, Moh! Just wait yeh little minx," shaking his head smiling.

That evening, Moh and Harry brought out the works. She only smoked when she felt the tension to release some of that pent up energy. Harry will use any excuse to spend some time with this girl, knowing he wouldn't get any time with her this summer. They were here for her work, after all. So he pulled out all the stops for the night, went out and got her favourite snacks, whipped up some quick salad for dinner, knowing they would be gorging on munchies. He set up a blanket on the balcony floor, brought out all the food while she showered upstairs. He had been working on some writing and recording today. They brought a bunch of their recording equipment along, so Harry could set up in her dad's study. Ever since her parents passed, her home in Bombay laid vacant for her to use whenever she pleased. Coming home to an empty house had been hard for her last year, but Harry had been there by her side through everything. Cleaning out all the supplies, arranging things, throwing out old items and keeping things that would remind her of her parents. He made it home for her that year. So when she was asked by her teacher to spend the summer here, she readily agreed because Harry would be with her, and going back home wouldn't feel so morose. The first week had just been setting up the house to their liking. They were just about getting comfortable around the house. Somehow Harry knew the terrace balcony was special for her, so that's where he'd set up their make-shift date night. She walked in, wet hair from her shower dripping all over. She was wearing one of his loose t-shirts and he was lounging in a pair of white shorts. He looked up at her, smiling softly. "How was class today? Is Madhuri doing any better?"

"Yeah, I think so, she is, but she was resting, we did some footwork with the kids, movement exercises and whatnot, and with me, we just went over some of the stuff I'd been working on back home", she smiles.

He sits down, leaning against the railing, and pats the spot next to him, silently motioning her to join him. She does so, reaching her place and leaning in to kiss him on his nose before picking up the joint. She lights it and takes a long drag from it. "I miss baba", she exhales.

He takes the joint from her, "Know yeh do, pet. D'ya want to talk about it?"

"No. I just hadn't said that out loud in so long. Felt like it was eating away at me, y'know?"

"Yeah, know what yeh mean, s'okay though, we can just sit here and take that in for a bit."

"Madhuri Ji, asked me if I'd considered coming back," she said

"Yeah? Well, yeh are here now, and we'll be here all summer." He added

"No, I think she meant moving back here, but I didn't give her an answer yet"

"Are yeh really considering that? Thought we were looking to put the down payment for that house in Chelsea when we went back?" He asked, slightly confused

"Yeah, I mean, we are, but I didn't want to not consider it. I'd be able to help her out with classes more often, work on new projects with artists that I don't get to back home, and just" she pauses ", I just wanted some time to think about it, y'know."

"Okay, well, yeh know I've got to go back after the summer, pet, if you'd like to stay for longer, that's okay, we can figure something out." He sighed. He knew Vrindavan was vital to her. She had too many memories attached to it. She thought she had time with those here, but with her parents passing away in an accident last year, it really took that opportunity away from her. So now she felt cheated of her good memories of her home. He knew she'd want to keep this place, but they'd always talked about settling in London and coming down here for her performances and to meet Madhuri. Something changed her heart, and she seemed unsure of their plan to settle in London.

He kissed her softly and put an arm around her, bringing her close to him, "We'll sort it out, darling. Baba and Ma are going to be with yeh no matter what."

That conversation ended with them lazily passing the joint, munching on the snack laid out. Both of them passed out contently in each other's arms out in the open terrace that night.

Come monsoon that year, Moh decided she wouldn't go back to London, so she sat on her bed, watching the love of her life pack away all his stuff to leave for his home the following day. The yellow light of their room fell on him, which only made him look more beautiful. She realised how much she would miss watching him play her his new songs sitting in the same spot he sat now. Rain poured mercilessly, almost as if Bombay was weeping at the state of their relationship. She didn't want this to end, but she also couldn't leave the only semblance of her father behind. She wanted Harry to stay, desperately hoping he would make it work, but she also knew that wasn't rational. He couldn't fly back and forth so often, it would be detrimental to his health. So she turned her face away to wipe the tears that lined her waterline.

"I wish you'd at least consider coming back with me. If yeh still don' like it there, you can come right back, Moh" his voice shaky, she knew if she listened to him any longer, she wouldn't be able to hold her sobs back. So she looked at him with this vacant look, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm not ready for that yet, Harry. I don't think I will be. It's not fair to you."

"Okay then, if you change your mind, know I'll be waiting for yeh, pet" he wipes away a lone tear and goes back to packing.

The following day she waves Harry goodbye and rushes to the balcony terrace to watch him go gently twisting the H hanging from her neck. The mangoes are long gone, so is the light from those summer mornings.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 2

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let’s try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We’re living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn’t actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @vozit​ @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings​

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings  ! She deserves all the love 💙

Peter woke me up at eight AM the next morning like the little shit that he was, demanding I make him pancakes. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had the joy to experience him in the morning and he knew exactly how to antagonise me enough to make him the special pancakes he liked so much. They had become kind of a ritual whenever he stayed over at my house, which was quite often - teachers liked me enough to pair me up with one of the most sensible kids for any projects that couldn’t be done alone by yours truly on her own.

I put on my yesterday’s dress, applied moisturizer and obediently trotted behind an excitedly mumbling Peter. The kitchen was large, beautiful and delightfully empty of any resident superheroes. I’ve indirectly crossed paths with all of the tower’s residents hanging around Tony, but I’ve yet had to speak more than polite niceties to any of them. 

Spying a bowl of boiled eggs and some sort of weird salad alongside half burned toast on the counter, I suddenly understood why Peter demanded his pancakes. I strictly instructed the disaster child to stay away from my cooking process and set to work with one ear listening to his ramblings and a headphone in the other. 

A set of thumping footsteps appeared behind me as I was pouring the batter for the first pancake. Their owner loudly sat down next to Peter, sighing, groaning, generally making “I’m not a morning person” sounds.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” Peter’s tone was way, way too chipper.

“‘mrng,” The Sergeant grumbled. “Who’s this and why is she making pancakes?”

I turned around, spatula at the ready. “It’s me,” We’ve actually met before, but Barnes had left before I could even come over from my side of the work bench to say hello.

He nodded in acknowledgement after giving me a suspicious once-over. “One of Stark’s science children. I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” His voice sounded rough and gravely, and he clutched a coffee cup half the size of my head.

I snorted. “Science child, sure,” It wasn’t half-bad actually. I wisely choose to ignore the part of being Tony’s. No matter how hot the man was, I wasn’t anybody’s but my own, thank you very much. “Go get the bananas, Nutella and maple syrup, fellow science child.”

Peter scrambled to follow instructions as I plated the pancakes and cut the bananas into neat little rings to fill the sweet circles with. A tablespoon of Nutella, half a sliced banana, wrap, garnish with powdered sugar and pour maple syrup generously on top. I really didn’t see how this could be difficult but any and all attempts to teach Peter how to recreate my masterpiece always ended up in an absolute mess. I turned around to ask Bucky if he wanted any. The look of a man starved answered all my questions.

“You’re a goddess,” Peter moaned around his mouthful, nose smudged white with the powdered sugar.

“Gross, chew first then talk, you neanderthal,” I scoffed, prepping more batter for the second batch of pancakes. I wasn’t sure if everybody would show up but figured it would be rude to exclude them from the sheer magnificence that were my pancakes. I was just that good.

The music in my ear drowned most of Peter’s disgusting chewing noises, thankfully. My second batch vanished into thin air, inhaled by the two males like the garbage disposals that they were. Peter, in particular, ate an alarming quantity of food and I was surprised how he managed to stay so skinny. His daily eating schedule resembled the Hobbits.

More people appeared, this time acting less surprised regarding me standing at the stove. Hawkeye, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch and her brother, all of them wandered in wearing sleep attire with various amusing prints. Thankfully, they mostly kept quiet or chatted with Peter - I would have definitely grumbled if someone tried to talk to me. As far as my body was concerned it was still the middle of the night.

“PANCAKES,” A booming voice announced and I shuddered at the sheer intensity and devotion contained in that one word. Thor.

“Please use your indoor voice,” I snapped reflectively. My brain caught up with what I just did so I hastily backtracked. “Sorry, I’m a bitch in the mornings.”

The blonde man chuckled, coming over to poke his nose into my flurry of pour-flip-fill sequence. Then, with all the grace and manners of a prince, he dipped one (1) large finger into the jar of Nutella and wandered off with it stuck in his mouth. With this turn of events the Nutella was bound to run out sooner than expected.

I turned around, annoyed confusion in plain sight. “The fuck?.. That’s gross, don’t do that,” Finding his brother (adopted!) sitting next to Thor, wearing a haughty smirk, finger still in his mouth. So Loki turned into his brother to steal Nutella from a jar. I sighed. Nobody even batted an eye. “Your alien germs are in there now, double ew.”

“Alien germs? Where?” Bruce entered the kitchen with a tablet under his arm, wearing Hulk themed pajamas, Captain America in tow. I was honestly on the verge of breaking down into hysterical laughter. Domestic Avengers wasn’t something I’d expected to see or experience, ever, much less be a part of. It took a moment for me to remind myself that they were people, too, and each of them was entitled to their own quirks. 

“America, egg-splain,” Peter muttered under his breath, giggling. “Loki stuck his hand in the Nutella jar,” He pointed at said jar. “She got grumpy,” Peter pointed at me. “Don’t make her grumpy, please, I want more pancakes,” And turned his pleading puppy eyes in my direction again.

“This is indentured servitude,” I pointed my spatula at the little shit. “You just had, like, ten.” But I made more batter nonetheless. I must admit it was kind of cool, seeing the earth’s mightiest defenders so relaxed. And Pete being happy, that was just… The best. I don’t know how to explain it. His eternal cheerfulness was highly contagious.

Chuckles filled up the room, the adults chatting and bickering amongst themselves while they patiently waited for their own breakfast. 

“Do you need some help?” Bruce approached me after stopping to fetch himself a cup of tea. It smelled strongly of tangy herbs and honey.

“I need more Nutella and bananas,” I admitted, surveying the sheer amount of people I had to feed. I didn’t doubt the Captain and two Asgardians had an appetite to match Peter’s which meant a literal extra set of condiments was required. Thankfully, Bruce fetched them for me, coming to a stop next to me. “Anything else?”

“You know, I tried making these with Peter and he just ended up with powdered sugar and chocolate all over himself,” I mused, noting the way Banner was carefully observing the assembly of a pancake. “You think Doctor seven-phds can manage to add a few toppings to a pancake without causing a disaster?“ 

Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, bumping me with his hip. "I’m no Clint Barton when it comes to cooking but at least I don’t burn my toast like Steve,” True to his word, his hands made swift motions of filling, wrapping and plating each individual pancake. They were almost as good as mine albeit more messy. I had lots of practice though. We finished off a batch in companionable silence, sounds of the team and my music playing in the background. 

I didn’t notice when I started swaying to the rhythm, catching a confused look from Bruce. I brushed back my hair, revealing a wireless headphone in my ear and he chuckled in understanding. “What are you listening to?”

“Right now? Kings of Leon,” I said, leaning towards him so he could hear the chorus “Use Somebody” currently occupying my right ear. 

“I like them, too,” He said, his cheek gently touching mine. His hands slowed on the pancake, a soft hum vaguely reminding me of the song’s melody emanating from his throat. “What else do you usually listen to?”

“Mostly heavier stuff, but I have a whole separate playlist dedicated to mid-2000s bops,” I answered. “I’ve heard I’m quite old school when it comes to music.”

“Well, I am an old man, so…” Bruce grinned mischievously. “But my guilty pleasure is Lady Gaga,” He admitted with a laugh.

I laughed, too. The image of his dancing in his lab to Born This Way was too much for my brain and I hung my head, fighting giggles. Bruce bumped me with his hip again, faking a pout. “Okay, okay, that was a fucking hilarious image, you go dude,” I finally powered through my struggle to contain laughter. “My own guilty pleasure would be… Umm… Lana Del Rey, I guess.”

Bruce made a vague noise of confusion. I took a brief break from mixing the batter to dig out my second headphone, presenting it to him and switching to a song. “This is what makes us girls”. Despite the fact I have never stolen a car or had a close female friend, the nostalgia was real. “Carmen” followed after the first song and I silently thanked whatever deity that “You can be the boss” was taken out of Spotify - I don’t think I was prepared to share that kind of information with a lab partner. An older, handsome lab partner. Wait… Where did that come from?

“I like it,” He said after the song ended and my more usual stuff began playing. “It suits you, I think.”

I groaned. “Really? I think it’s edgy,” Hiding away the embarrassment, I passed him a tray of freshly baked pancakes, occupying his immediate attention.

“You’re an old soul,” He gave me a lopsided smile. I saw a very faint blush tinting his cheeks, the kind of blush that had me wondering about the meaning behind his words. 

I gave an attempt at a smile in response, the left corner of my mouth barely tilting up. We talked some more about the rock music we shared in our earphones. I had a lot of 80s hair metal and 90s grunge in my playlist. Bruce was not a Curt Cobain man but enjoyed the works of his legacy, Marcy Playground. 

A tan hand wormed its way between me and Bruce, snatching a handful of banana slices and disappeared just as swiftly. “Tonyyy,” Bruce groaned, picking up another banana to replace the stolen pieces.

The spatula in my hand became a weapon as I blindly aimed at the target behind my back. A loud “ow” indicated I hit it. When I turned around, Tony was clutching the side of his face, a hurt look in his eyes and cheeks stuffed full of stolen goods. I stared him square in the face, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was shirtless - the arc reactor glowed brightly in the middle of his toned chest. Fuck.

His chest was honestly what I was aiming for. I constantly kept forgetting how short he actually was. There was this one time when Tony had to put his arms around me to steady a piece of tech - he felt huge, hard and enormous around me. 

“What’s that for, Princess?” He finally chewed through his food and found his voice.

“For being a Tony,” I retorted. “Stay away from my workspace and wait for your breakfast like everybody else.”

“Hey! This is my kitchen,” He whined immediately, like the adult man that he was. I nearly cried from how adorable his face became, eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t want to wait! And why does he,” Tony’s finger accusingly pointed at Bruce, “Get the bananas?!”

“Because he’s Brucie-bear,” I stuck my nose up in the air when Bruce’s arm wrapped around my waist. “He’s my science father,” I stuck my tongue out at Tony, seeing Bruce’s triumphant smile. Banner used every opportunity to get back at Tony’s incessant sass. 

The gleaming in Tony’s eyes should have alarmed me. “But he’s not your science daddy,” Tony’s flirting was accompanied by a salacious eyebrow wiggle and Peter’s screech of “OH MY GOD!" 

It took me every ounce of willpower to not flush. It was one of those rare times that I was at a complete loss of words. Thinking on the spot, I gave a very meaningful look to Bruce - thankfully, he got the gist and returned an equally filthy smirk back. Tony gaped.

"Is this how they are in the lab?” The Captain’s quiet voice leaked horrified amusement.

“All.The.Time.” Peter’s resonating groan was followed by Romanoff’s laughter.

We went up to the lab after breakfast. Thankfully Tony stopped his dramatic bitching when I served him my pancakes, scarfing them down much like everybody else. So me and Pete were accompanied by one (1) happy engineer, all three of us tinkering away on a robot that we were supposed to present in our science class in a month. The focus that was required to solder was immense and our usual banter was missing, replaced by an occasional request for a specific tool or a water bottle.

It took a few hours to get the dirty job done even with Tony’s help (technically he wasn’t supposed to but neither me nor Pete had the heart to forbid him from it when the man looked so content and happy soldering away). By the time I uncurled from my spot on the bench, my back was in knots and my dress had oil stains and holes all over it. I immediately went to the nearest water bottle, finishing half of it in seconds, picking up my phone to see if I had any important messages from my mother.

None.

Just a message from Bruce.

I tapped on my phone, idly scrolling through the Instagram app, liking some pictures of people I barely knew and keeping up a general appearance of being very busy. When the ringtone started playing, it took me a whole five seconds to understand it was, in fact, coming from my phone - I certainly wouldn’t put something so… Outrageous as my main tone.

Banner had discovered the power of the internet. You Can Be The Boss played loudly, and it played from my phone and Bruce was calling me. I picked it up, turning around, fighting the incoming laughter. “Yes, Brucie?" 

To say that Tony’s and Peter’s faces were scandalised was nothing. The boy’s face was such a deep shade of red, I started worrying about his blood pressure and Tony’s mouth hung open limply, like he was witnessing the second coming of Christ. 

"Is Tony sufficiently traumatized?” Judging by the breathless tone of his voice, Banner was resisting a mighty laughing fit of his own.

“Oh, absolutely,” I happily chirped.

“Good, keep it up. Come to my lab before you leave,” Banner snorted and then, realising what he’d done, promptly hung up, the tell-tale beginning of a giggle fit abruptly interrupted by a dial tone.

I put the phone in my bag, gathering the rest of my things with a look somewhere between innocence and indifference. At least, I hoped it was - my mind kept jumping between the engineer’s ridiculously scandalised face and the way his mouth went slack, lips moist and soft and plush. That’s a very dangerous trail.

A very dangerous trail I couldn’t resist exploring in the solitude and privacy of my own bedroom, at home.