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#i never wanna see onion skin ever again but this was so fun
itsbasicallycanon · 7 months
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a little murder, as a treat :)
(original video from scott the woz)
transcript:
Leo: That must be them! Listen- help me figure out who my secret santa is. I can't wait.
Mikey: If you really couldn't wait, you're hands would be far bloodier.
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00gangfriend00 · 3 years
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nsfw prompt/hc: domestic brio smut
FUN. I do love the chance to inject a lil FLUFF. also we are all not doing the five line thing right??? nah. heres 5000!!!!
He doesn't do sleepovers. Doesn't do the commitment thing, nah not anymore. Had it once with Rhea, and shit went south pretty quick. And that was despite their best effort to keep it together for little man's sake.
His job interferes, and his job ain't changin', so why should any other girl be any different? It's easier this way too. Less feelings, less mess.
He likes his own bed. His own schedule. Not havin' to throw around good mornin' texts, or explain why he's just getting in at 3am. Easier.
Simple.
"Married to his work" as Nick would say.
'Cept with Elizabeth ...
Well fuck, ain't she always makin' him break his own rules. They've been hooking up again for a while, on and off. Mostly in his car, the office, the bar. Every so often his place or hers.
And lately he's had to fight off the itch to text her, see what she's cooking, if she's drinking wine or bourbon. To guess what she's wearin', tell her to make sure her doors are locked (mostly so she can retort with something cheeky about how that never stops him), to ask if she lit that candle he got her - the one that had the lavender around the side, the one that made him think of her.
He doesn't know when he got so soft, but little by little his bed starts to feel too big, and his house a bit too quiet.
So when one of those texts is responded with a "why don't you come over and find out?" he's out the door and in his car before he can overthink things.
And here's the thing. He gets in her bed, in her kitchen and... never really leaves. It becomes a habit, one he tells himself he could break if he wanted, but can never come up with enough reasons to. Shit feels good, feels nice.
Maybe it's because she works with him, that it's easier? He can slip out of bed in the morning, crawl in beside her as dawn creeps over the horizon and receive nothing but a tired kiss on the temple, and a coffee later on.
One evening he's sitting out on the picnic table, enjoying the eerie quiet of the suburban streets when he hears pots and pans clash in the kitchen.
Beth is on her hands and knees picking up cumin seeds, with a counter top that looks like she's preparin' a buffet. She peers up at him, sheepish, and wipes a sheen of sweat off her forehead. Her curls are pulled up into a messy ponytail, her body's covered in a ratty oversized tee-shirt, the kind that leaves her ass peeking out.
And god damn, no amount of text could ever due this justice. This view, this getting to be here. Getting to see her in these moments.
"Elizabeth, what the hell're you doin'?"
She huffs back up to stand, pulling her shirt a bit lower and he can't help but follow the movement.
"Meal prep!" Her hands clasp together excitedly.
"What in God's good name in meal prep darlin'?"
She looks at him incredulously, before turning back around to pick up carrot peels from the cutting board.
"You know, you prepare lunches in advance... to save time."
He hums, moving over beside her and picking up a knife.
"What are you doing?!"
"You meal preppin', so I'm meal preppin' too. Put me to work mama."
"No no no. You can't help."
Resting his hands on the small of her back, he nudges her closer, eager to feel the flush of her skin. Pulls her between his legs.
"And why's that?"
She bats him away. "Because! You'll distract me!"
He pouts as he runs his fingers along the hem of her shirt, knuckles brushing the top of her ass.
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Did you bring your book with you?"
Rio chuckles, fondly remembering her suggestion for him to bring a novel to read as she's often busy and was worried he'd get bored.
Truth is, the reason he's here is to watch her work. Watch her move. Wouldn't wanna do anything else. The fact that she'd think he'd get bored, well.. it makes it even harder to explain.
"I'll be good. I promise."
She smiles warmly up at him, a little mix of awe and gratitude, and then shifts back into work mode.
Fuck, he loves her work mode. So fuckin' sexy.
"Okay. I'm gonna hand you the tinfoil of chicken and broccoli, you get to sauce them each up. "
She flutters her eyelashes a bit, pausing.
"If you do all that AND cut the onion... maybe I'll let you... sauce me up."
Rio tosses his head back in laughter, encasing her in a hug as they sway side to side.
"Hey now! Dirty talk in the suburbs. Uh oh."
"Shut up!"
He leans in to the crook of her neck, breathing her in. "That sounded gross, babe." Grinning against her down-turned mouth, he tips her up into a kiss.
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youngbloodlisk · 4 years
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[1800] // Kim Sunwoo
"You're so sexy when you're domestic."
word count: 1560
- straight up dom kim sunwoo smut
- my first time writing smut so sorry for how awful this is lol oh well
- rough but caring sunny boy
- implied future voyerism w eric
- consent checks bc yknow what turns me on more than most anything? CONSENT CHECKS
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I jump and almost drop the cutting board full of diced onion in my hands when Sunwoo slides his arms around my waist, clasping them together in front of my body as he presses himself into my back and sways lightly.
"Hey, baby..." He whispers in my ear.
"Hey, how was work?" I slowly continue cooking, carefully using the knife to slide the diced onion off the board and into the simmering pot on the stove.
"Frustrating... it's a long story, I don't really wanna talk about it. Is that okay?"
"Of course, hon." I give him a loving smile and he sighs with satisfaction, burying his head in my neck.
We stay there for a few minutes, me chopping vegetables and swaying with him as he just breathes slowly and deeply into my skin.
Suddenly I feel his tongue on my neck, wet and rough, and my body lights up.
"What are you doing-"
"Shh..." He sensually hisses before placing his mouth back onto my neck, soon finding himself lightly sucking on my skin.
It's becoming continually harder to focus on making this soup.
A small moan escapes my mouth and Sunwoo mutters a deep, rough...
"Oh, baby."
He grabs my hips and turns me to face him, before he reaches behind me and turns off the stove burner.
"What about dinner?" I question.
"That's a problem for later, right now I just wanna-"
"Sunwoo, that was really hot of you, but if we let it cook while we have fun then it'll be ready about when we're finished and all cleaned up. Turn the stove back on." He sighs and reaches to turn the burner back onto a heat level of 4.
"You're so sexy when you're domestic."
"Thanks. Now what is it you wanted to do to me?" I look up at him with innocent, yet dark eyes. The ones I know drive him crazy. And yeah, maybe that's my intention when I use them.
My attempt proves successful when he smirks and looks at me like a wild animal looking at it's next meal.
He picks me up, takes me to the living room, and tosses me onto the couch.
He never has been one for kitchen pounding, but no way is he gonna make it all the way to his bedroom before pulling my clothes off my body.
Speaking of which, it isn't a mere 10 seconds later before my shirt and shorts are being tossed across the room like rags.
Sunwoo stops and takes in my lacy, almost entirely see-through black set.
"For me?" His ego boosts, knowing the answer full well.
"Who else?"
"I don't know, you've said Eric's kinda hot before." He cocks an eyebrow. "You wouldn't do something like that right? Go be a slut for Eric?"
"Not when I have you."
"You better not, baby. He can only see you like this with my permission..." He moves me so that I'm fully laying on my back on the couch and begins to slide my underwear down, with the slowest movement of his entire life.
The implication that Sunwoo isn't opposed to Eric viewing me in this extremely risqué position, only requiring Sunwoo's permission for it, causes my eyes to roll back and an embarrassing whine to leave me.
"Oh? My baby likes that idea?" He finally pulls my underwear off of my body entirely and tosses them aside with my other clothes. "I'll have to bring it up to Eric sometime... But tonight, you're all mine. For my eyes only, and for my tongue only." With that super cringe, cheesy statement he licks a long stripe up my pussy.
Instantly, my eyes shut and my hands rush to find his hair. As his tongue and lips work me over, my breathing is growing heavy and my hips begin to press up against him.
He takes his mouth away, causing me to whine both at the sudden lack of friction and the sight of his mouth all wet and shining.
"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you?"
"I-"
"Aren't you?"
"Yes..."
"Then you don't dictate when you cum, baby. I do. You sit back and let me taste my love. You'll cum in due time. But if you decide to be disobedient, you don't cum at all. Understand?"
I gulp.
That was really hot...
"I understand."
"And you remember your safe word if you want me to stop?" I nod in response.
"Red."
"Good." His hands rest on my hips to help hold me down as he dives in again.
It's a good thing he's holding me down because if he wasn't doing that... I wouldn't be physically able to be obedient.
"S-Sun-Sunwoo, slow down- I'm gonna c-cum-"
He immediately pulls away right as I'm on the edge and I writhe around like a small child who didn't get the chocolate chip cookie they wanted.
"You cum on my cock only, baby. You know that." He unbuttons his pants at the speed of light, his intense hard on making him work faster than usual. "I'm not gonna have to punish you, am I?"
"No, Sunwoo. Please, I'll be good."
He pumps himself a few times before looking at me with genuine eyes, his hard demeanor breaking for a moment to make sure that everything is okay and I want to continue.
I return the genuine look and nod.
He sweetly smiles for a moment, before regaining Hard Dom Sunwoo and slowly pushing into me.
Erotic sounds leave both of us as he bottoms out and stills for a second.
Only for a second though.
He quickly pulls out and slams back into me.
My back arches and I cover my mouth, afraid of the extremely embarrassing noises I'm liable to make as he pounds into me.
He reaches up and grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away from my mouth and ending up holding both of my hands above my head.
"Let me hear you, baby. Let your body tell me how good I make you feel." He's holding my arms up with one hand and the other hand grabs my leg to pull it up over his shoulder.
Once my leg is propped up on his body, he holds my hip and speeds up his pace.
He's reaching me deeper than he ever has before, and my body is DEFINITELY telling him all about it without my permission.
"Sunwoo, please, please, please... Please let me cum. Can I cum?"
"Cum around me, sweetheart. Let me feel you."
He winces in pleasure as I clench around his dick, my orgasm hitting me like a bus.
He lets go of my hands.
"Are you okay, honey? Can I keep going?" I know he's making sure I'm still okay to let him finish inside me. He's told me about a million times that when I cum first, if I want him to stop and finish himself off in the bathroom, he will.
Even though he has needs of his own, he always puts me and my comfort first.
It's just one of the things I really adore about him.
"Yeah, keep going. I'll be alright."
"Are you sure?" His tone tells me that he doesn't believe me, given how hard my orgasm hit. He's afraid I'm far too sensitive and he doesn't want to hurt me.
"Yes, Sunwoo." I grab his hand and look him dead in the eyes. "I promise. I know my word, red. I'm fine. Keep going."
It takes him a second to accept it, but he eventually nods and takes a deep breath before he starts slowly thrusting in and out of me again.
Admittedly, I am still sensitive, but it isn't near as bad as he's imagining in his overprotective mind.
He begins getting lost in the pleasure and his pace quickens, along with his thrusts growing more powerful and deep.
Just the sight of him in so much pleasure from fucking me makes me sweat.
His thrusts become inconsistent and jerky as he gets closer to his release.
Sunwoo hits me with one more hard and deep thrust, filling me with his cum.
He rides out his high and spurts a bit more cum into me before coming to a halt and carefully laying himself onto my body.
I wrap my arms around him in an embrace full of love.
"That wasn't too much, was it? Do you need me to do anything for you, sweetheart?"
"No, it was great, Sunwoo. I'm all good. Are you?"
"I'm great." His stomach growls in protest to that statement and I laugh at the irony. "Just kind of hungry."
"Glad I told you to turn the stove back on, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're always right." I can practically hear his eye roll in his tone.
"Bet your ass I am."
Sunwoo buries his face in my neck, laughing with me.
His position makes me recall the neck kisses that began all of this earlier.
"Sunwoo, did you give me a hickey?"
"What?"
"Earlier at the stove. Did you give me a hickey? Did you give me a hickey that I'm gonna have to cover up before Juyeon's birthday party tomorrow?"
"Leave it out. Let the guys see. Half of them refuse to believe I actually get any. Prove them wrong for me, babe."
"Kim Sunwoo!"
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x0401x · 4 years
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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #3
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T/N: Okay, so, this is one of those chapters where the author makes mistakes in linguistics (but she’s trying, guys, she’s trying!). She writes “prasinon” as “prase” for some reason, and I took the liberty to fix it myself when translating.
Connecting Chrysoprase
Jewelry Etranger sat inconspicuously at Ginza 7-choume. The store owner, Richard, was the possessor of a beauty that you couldn’t think was from this world, but no matter how beautiful he was, once half a year had passed, you would get used to it. And as I got used to him, the questions also surfaced.
“Hey, Richard, don’t you have any favorite foods other than sweets? Do you eat ramen or anything like that?”
Mr. Richard Ranashinha de Vulpian looked at me with scrutinizing blue eyes. Sitting on the red sofa, he had been observing the contents of a large jewel box, holding them up over his head against the morning light shining in from the window.
“I find difficult to figure the aim of the question. Why ramen? I have had meals with you numerous times. I eat anything without likes or dislikes.”
“I know. It’s not like it’s limited to just ramen, but you don’t eat that kind of stuff much, do you?”
Like chives. Or garlic. Or grilled meat dripping with juices.
I knew that this didn’t suit his image. He was a man whose features seemed to have accidentally come out of a dream world. If he told me that he could live off eating department store sweets and pink roses, he could probably have me seriously convinced up to about 70%. That was exactly why I would feel like searching for a gap.
As I was about to ask if he understood this logic, Richard replied curtly with a clay doll-like face, “What ill intentions.”
That was true. I wasn’t some obsessive follower of an idol’s personal life or anything. Richard hit bull’s-eye with the deduction that I “probably ate ramen yesterday”. For some reason, things got awkward. I was in a position where it was better to retreat for a while. Time to change the subject.
“What stone is that? Looks like candy and it’s pretty cute.”
“A type of chalcedony. They are in the same category as crystals. In particular, this one with a milky apple-green color is called chrysoprase.
“Ah~...”
What Richard was pinching with his bare hands - because it was safer to touch it with bare skin rather than wearing gloves, he said, as it wouldn’t cause any damage - was a pale green, round stone. It had low transparency, was cut en cabochon and looked like an old-style candy.
“W-What was it again? The name. Chry...?”
“‘Chrysoprase’,” Richard repeated for me.
How many times had something like this happened? The stone’s name was in a Western language. Basically, all of them were in katakana. My ears did register it, but I couldn’t memorize it in one go at all. Richard was a helpful person, so there were times when he wrote down the names in romaji and explained them to me, but I honestly couldn’t keep up with him. There were countless stones in this world.
“Chryso... aah, no good. It’s hard to memorize.”
“‘Chrysoprase’. It is said to be a stone that helps to harmonize and integrate personalities. Medieval European literature also mentions it as a stone that Alexander the Great loved.”
Alexander the Great. A person I had learned about in high school. Even I knew that name. The fact that a stone adored by a warlord who had long passed away was still loved by people of the current times was thought-provoking. The range of the gemstone world was broad. But, well, leaving that as that.
“How d’you memorize stones’ names? It’s not like you’ve got some test to do like in a history class...”
“Do you think anyone would buy goods from a trader who cannot even say their names?”
“I don’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard. There’s lots of types and they sound like magic spells. Like ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’. It wouldn’t be weird if you felt like cheating without a care in the world. You got any trick for memorizing them?”
“My compliments to you for being able to pronounce the official name of Sri Lanka’s capital. But I cannot praise the part about carelessly deceiving people. Once your reputation falls to earth, it does not recover so easily. To begin with, your perception of business in general is too lax for someone enrolled in the Faculty of Economics. I know you have the aspiration, but if you do not pair it to practical abilities and skills, you will be running idle. Shouldn’t you try to improve these skills once again so that you can avoid unnecessary hardships in the future? Instead of obsessing over finding out something unexpected about the shopkeeper from your part-time job.”
The arguments were so spot-on that I was at a loss for words. Even so, still with a slightly exasperated face, Richard continued to speak. Most likely, it was his gentle side’s turn from here on out.
“Still, you are right, I do have a trick. If I were to use the capital as an example, ‘Sri Jayawardenepura Kotte’ had its original name ‘Kotte’ being embellished with the title of ‘President Jayawardene’s Sacred City’. When you know the origin of it, doesn’t this line-up of katakana letters that only appears in magic spells turn into meaningful words?”
“So it had that kind of meaning? I see...”
“Is this time to be impressed? Do the same and discover the relatedness of all kinds of matters in your daily life. If you direct your eyes to the depths of your history without sticking to the surface, I guarantee that your world will broaden much more richly.”
“Then what about the chrysoprase of just now?”
As I took a stab at arousing his enthusiasm, the volubly beautiful shop owner smiled gorgeously. I felt that this guy would stay in a good mood forever just as long as I gave him sweets and let him talk about gems. And I liked Richard’s face the most when he was in his best mood.
“This word is taken from the Greek language. It consists of two separate words, ‘chrysos’ and ‘prasinon’. The meaning of chrysos is ‘gold’. The bright golden that can be seen showing through within the green was associated with gold. Prasinon means...”
What happened? His enunciation suddenly got bad.
When I urged him to continue, Richard looked down at the stone in his hand with a dull look and sighed a little. “The meaning of prasinon... comes close to plants such as chives or green onions.”
“Ooh—!”
As I clapped my hands together with an “all paths lead to ramen”, Richard made a face like he had just woken up from a nightmare. What is it? Please laugh.
“In any case, the mental attitude of trying to master something is commendable. I pray that your efforts will bear fruit.”
“Thanks, thanks. Well, will you eat ramen after all?”
Mr. Richard, the jeweler, looked at me with an awfully sharp gaze. What was that face? His facial expression looked like the usual nuance that he was growing fond of my foolishness had increased to about 30%. Did he intend to poke fun on me?
“Yes, yes, I will.”
“What do you prefer? Like miso or soy sauce?”
“A large helping of green onions and garlic. And even then, it is good to grate raw garlic and put in it.”
“That’s a pretty hardcore taste for someone who works with close-contact service business.”
“Which is why this is not something I can eat whenever. I eat it carefully by myself when I do not have to meet anyone the next day.”
As my eyes widened, the beautiful storekeeper raised his chin arrogantly. Did he want to say that this didn’t suit his image or had it just unfolded anew?
“How was it, did you enjoy the so-called ‘gap’?”
“No, it’s not like that’s the main goal.”
“Hah?”
“I can’t invite anyone for a French cuisine restaurant or a high-class sweets store, but if it’s a ramen shop, there’s lots of them near my university. If you like, why don’t we go eat together next time? They’re mostly shops that seem better to drop by wearing a t-shirt rather than a suit, but I wanna try chatting with you while eating this kind of junky stuff every now and then.”
“For you to discover a new unexpected thing about me, you mean?”
“I just wanna get along with you better.”
For an instant, Richard’s facial expression strained hard. What was up? His face looked like he hadn’t known better and bit a sour pickled plum or something. As I furrowed my brows, his blue eyes narrowed, looking glum, while he closed the jewel box with a click and stood up.
“Ah, show me more. It wasn’t nearly enough—”
“The chrysoprase is said to have the power to put the balance of mind and body in order, as well as make it spring up comfortably. Perhaps because its fresh grass color is a reminder of spring. Isn’t this stone unnecessary for you, since you are always in a festive mood?”
“Why’re you angry?”
“I am not.”
“Shouldn’t you take a better look at the chrysoprase?”
“Thank you for the unnecessary meddling.”
Leaving me with things to say, Richard disappeared into the back room. Was it that bad to invite him to a ramen shop? It wasn’t a good idea to let him stay angry, so I voluntarily prepared two cups of royal milk tea in the kitchenette. Having come out into the reception room, Richard said nothing more than the expected as he drank a tea that had a little more sugar in it than usual.
After the customer of that morning had gone home, Richard showed me the chrysoprase once again. Upon a better look, I understood the meaning of that naming, which I couldn’t think of as anything more than a mystery at first. Didn’t the people of ancient times think that this was a plant born from gold? The uneven surface was smooth and wavy like an organic body. Chrysoprase. Gold and green onions. Even though there were several gems in this world, I would probably never forget the name of this one. If I ever got to eat ramen with Richard someday, I would definitely bring up this stone.
“Do you remember that talk?” I would ask.
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blackvelvetwriteson · 3 years
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𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
                                             (  ~ Kirishima Eijirou x Black Male                                                                 Reader Insert ~ )
GENRE: Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  
FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are none today! Just fluffy fluff!
SUMMARY: Reader-Chan gets a little self conscious because Kirishima is gone a lot because of his work and he doesn’t want to be left behind. There MIGHT be a part 2 in the works so stay on the lookout for that!
WORD COUNT: 3083
(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)
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You two had been together for awhile at this point. The last year of UA was when you finally had the guts to move your friendship further- you were excited as could be to hear that Kirishima, the literal man of your dreams, was YOURS now, and not just your “bro.” You both had really random shift hours and patrols; sometimes you would work together, sometimes Kirishima had to leave in the middle of the night, sometimes you had to leave at the first hairline fracture crack of dawn. It was extremely random and spontaneous, just like your guys’s relationship so it worked just fine. 
 One thing that was a constant was your fight to see who was manlier, you or him. You loved it, and so did he. Sometimes you were little spoon, sometimes you were big spoon. Sometimes you made dinner and sometimes he did- even though you knew that he was trying to mimic you without necessarily asking for help. This picked up especially close to the holiday season when he had to be gone more and more often; where he’d take jobs in neighboring states and territories but he was never so far away as to say you couldn’t ever spend time with him. That’d been the case for this week and it hit you especially hard since you had plans with him during your known off days and the weekend.
You walked through the door sniffing the air and smiling a little as you walked through the house, your eyes glistening as you smelled him in the kitchen trying to mimic something that you’d done a few weeks ago; you made rice, shrimp, minced octopus, and a bit of hoisin sauce you’d managed to trade with someone in exchange for your cooking. It didn’t smell right, but you were most definitely proud that he got quite close. It was the lack of seasoning and he knew that. He just wanted an excuse to feel your broad chest against his back as you showed him exactly what to do; but he’d never admit that. Through the years, he really grew into his skin, tall and stocky with an INCREDIBLY muscular body, and since his sleek red hair had been trained to be spiked, his beautiful mane sat perfectly on his shoulders with natural low spikes, he looked almost like a lion and it fit him well. His bangs framed his face and left you to see his eyes, and you could tell that he’d try to style it differently for you so you could look into his eyes. His eyes were sharp and keen and bright red, sparkling every single time he saw you, a couple more scars and marks making his face, his teeth still pearly white and sharp for you. Everything about him you were infatuated with from how he walked to how he cuddled with you while he thought you were asleep, to how he challenged you with every little thing.
You leaned in the doorway a little, your tongue running over your bottom lip as you straightened out your durag and smirked a little, your arms crossing over your broad chest as you tilt your head and listened to his mumbling.
“And then he did this…? I think? Um…” he leaned over the counter and looked over all of the- wrong- spices that he grabbed out of the cabinet overhead. “He just did it so… Um…”
You walked up behind him and wrapped your muscular, eager arms around his waist and pulled him into you with a soft laugh against his ear causing him to whine softly before catching himself and forcing a small pout that melted instantly into a smile.
“You know you were supposed to cook the shrimp in the hoisin sauce, right? And then mix it with the rice that…” You look over his shoulder and laugh quietly as you gently remove the lid to the pan. “…Needs a lil more butter, AND to be turned *off,”* you tease with a soft smile.
“Wait but what about simmer,” he asked with a soft pout before looking over his shoulder at you, his tan face flushing over as he nibbled on his own lip, his eyes and his mind wandering all the same. You notice, and of course, you couldn’t help yourself but to tease him more, one of your eyes squinting as you kissed his forehead and watched his face flush over more.
“Simmer ain’t for rice… Well not white rice and not right now. And it was done… Ain’t you Japanese? How do you not know this?” You chuckle softly as you wrap one of your arms around his shoulders and pull him back into you, your hand still rested on his waist.
“Hey man! Y-You know I never really had time to cook… B-Before we got together with training and hero work and studying and- a-ah!” He shut up and blushed as he felt your teeth nibbling at the skin on his neck.
“What? A lil teasing got you feeling some typa way or what?” You chuckle softly before easily turning him around to face you, double checking again to make sure that everything on the stove was off and NOT on simmer. “You mean to tell me thatcha homies never cooked for you? Like.. Ever? Not for breakfast or lunch? Or?” You laugh softly as you tilt his head back towards you, trying to avoid your gaze. “Yo… Look at me,” you say softly, your thumb gently and slowly tracing over his jawline.
“I-I’m looking! A-And no.. I just like hearing you talk…” He whined softly, gently nipping at your hand as he closed his eyes. “You’re really pushing it for just getting home! Let me make dinner… You still need to get changed and stuff too! You know our rule,” he said with a growing pout, one of his fingers waving in your face, you gazing at him with a laid back look.
You rose your hands and tilted your head a little. “Fa sho,” you chuckle before giving him a quick kiss and turning him back around. “But that’s gon have to wait until I show you AGAIN what seasonings to use,” you laugh as you eyeball what he already has out. “Hm… Onion salt and garlic powder? W… Why?” You look at him with a quirked eyebrow and he just looked away with an embarrassed look as he rubbed his arm. “Cayenne pepper? I mean you got the right idea, but you’re supposed to cook it in *with* the meat, not sprinkle it on top… It tastes starchy and takes away from the flavor,” you explain softly as he leans back into you starting to get a little emotional. “Babe. Basil? Wh… What was the thinking?” You laughed a soft little hearty laugh, but you eased up on the teasing as you noticed his heavy sigh. “Hey… Just a little bit of teasing, aight? Don’t take it to heart,” you say softly as you gently hug his waist, burying your head into the crook of his neck, your durag covered by his fiery red hair.
“I’m never gonna be as good at this at you,” he murmured quietly and he gently brushed his hair back.
“Baby,” you mumble into his skin causing him to shudder a little. “I feel you, but this really ain’t a competition… I like these moments anyway… Teaching you or coming home to seeing you in the kitchen… Or… Impersonating me or something- but not too much on that,” you say quietly as you tilt his head up and look into his watery eyes. “I know everything with us is a competition, and it’s hella fun, trust me. But… Sometimes we don’t need to compete… Everything about you is good, great, impeccable actually. You’re my manly man and I’m yours,” you say softly, your free hand wandering over his body, then down his arm until you locked your fingers together. “I ain’t even gon’ lie to you, everything about you makes me feel sumn fierce and it’s all for you, and no matter how much we compete, we’re still in this TOGETHER, you feel me?” You rose an eyebrow as him as he finally met and held your gaze.
“I guess,” he whispered softly before looking away again, his blush riding under his wide eyes. You couldn’t help but to laugh quietly under your breath and he just crossed his arms and watched as you grabbed down the pepper, seasoned salt, and seafood seasoning, slowly turning the stove on again to a simmer as you mixed the food around. “Your little.. Lingo… It’s cute,” he said quietly as he kissed against your jawline and hummed softly.
“I mean if you say so,” you practically whisper as you shrug. “It’s just how I talk where I’m from… Not a lot of people do… It’s a long story,” you say with a small smile as you shake your head a little.
“We have.. time,” he practically choked out as he looked down at your hand gently and stirring the simmering seafood and he smiled a little as you added the seasonings.
“Let me rephrase then,” you say as you gently play in his hair. “It’s a long story that I’m not interested in talking about right now,” you say with a laugh before feeling him nudge into you. “You really wanna do this right now,” you tease as you lift him off of his feet and push him onto the counter, standing in between his legs. His eyes widened and he leaned into you with a small smirk, his arms draped over your shoulders.
“My king,” he mumbled softly before pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.
“My manly man… Is there sum’n you wanna say?” You tilt your head a little, looking at his expression that he usually took when there was something on his mind.
“I mean… No… But… We probably should talk about this anyway,” he said softly as he let out a soft pained sigh and looked down in his lap. You didn’t force him to speak or look at you, sort of already anticipating the news.
“Well… Um… Tamaki wanted to meet up for this meeting with Fat Gum this weekend… So… I-It’ll count as overtime hours and I’ll get paid the same amount of overtime but like… If I were to do a month of a collective 25 odd hours a week. I promise when I get back, I’ll take you out and we can go do something.. Or something,” he said softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. You adjusted your durag and frowned a little before hugging him close, your strong arms wrapped around him and instinctively, he did the same, his eyes closing as he rested his head on top of yours.
“You aint gotta do all that… I understand that we’re heroes now. We aint got all the time in the world to just… waste the day away right? And aint Tamaki the one that was training with you in high school? Tell him I said hi… When are you leaving?”
Kirishima smiled a little, secretly relieved to have someone as understanding as yourself to comfort him. “Look… I’m not sure an exact time… But on Friday when you wake up in the morning I won’t be there… I’ll be close by! For the most part… I’m just rooming with Tamaki in a hotel because we don’t live close enough for s-stuff like that in order for me to make it o-on time,” he said softly with a wavery voice. You quirk an eyebrow at him and peer curiously into his glistening eyes and he leaned into your hands with a soft sniff. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered softly.
“You’re good,” you say softly as your concern grows. “Aye, don’t cry… There’s no need to cry,” you say softly as you turn the stove off again, the meat being done in the pan. “What’s up baby boy? Talk to me,” you say lovingly, your thumbs gently stroking at the small sunburn that left the imprint of his headgear on his face.
“I… I d-don’t want to be left behind! Baby I.. I fucking love you… But with me being gone so much- I just- baby… I don’t like being away from you… I can’t sleep right… I don’t really eat too much and then it makes my quirk all fucked off and then I’m not training right and then I-“
You shut him up with a kiss against his lips, your hand traveling to the back of his head, pulling him closer as you slowly eased the kiss into being more passionate but still loving. In truth, you knew exactly what he was talking about. You didn’t like not cuddling with him in bed and waking up without him in the morning. You didn’t like that he was gone so often; however you understood because he was a hero that was climbing the ranks to the top. He was in the top 5, narrowly missing the number 4 spot and for that you were proud of him. You nibbled his lip gently as you pulled away and he shuddered as he whined quietly. “H-Hey..! D-Don’t just… D-Do that,” he whispered softly and you gently made him look at you.
“Shhh,” you whisper softly and you laugh as your thumbs gently stroked at his cheeks. “Actually, I’m worried about how I’M gonna be left behind… I mean come on you’re nearly the top 3 hero… And I’m.. Just me,” you shrug and brush his spikes out of his face.
“Pff..” He waved his hand a little and tried to look away, but you wouldn’t let him. “I… T-That doesn’t matter to me, I don’t care if you were dead last.. I’d never leave you behind,” he said softly as he grabbed your wrist, but your semi-stern gaze wouldn’t give. “What? W-Why’re you looking a me like that?”
“Like what?” You weren’t aware of how you looked, how angry you looked but then you became aware of how tense your jaw was and you shook your head a little. “Nevermind.. Nevermind that,” you say softly leaning in to kiss his shoulder before pulling away. “Everything’s done now… You could scramble a couple of eggs to spice everything up a little bit, but… It’s fine as is,” you say as you back away and go to leave so you could change at least before you ate and showered, your mind racing a million miles a minute. You couldn’t help but to be a little self conscious. I mean, YOUR boyfriend was number 4 ranked hero and he was attractive AND confident-for the most part. He was everything you ever wanted and then some with how compassionate he was, and how passionate he is about being a hero of his community instead of the unnecessary fame or money. As you reached your room, your mind veered way off and you felt your jaw clench again. You thought about how different you’d be without him, without him climbing on top of you at 3 in the morning just because you weren’t cuddling him right, or your friendly banters and competitions. Your eyes started to burn with tears you refused to let out as you pulled your shirt off and you let out a shaky sigh.
What you didn’t know was that Kirishima was in the doorway having already made your bowls, his arms crossed as he silently watched you. He watched you change, your choppy irregular movements, he heard your sniffles and growls trying to suppress the tears you wanted to let out but refused yourself to. He hung his head thinking he did something wrong and he walked in behind you after you pulled on some joggers, his cheek pressed against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist. “I’m gonna make it up to you, I promise,” he whispered softly as he nuzzled into you, your hands massaging at his forearms.
“Make what up to me? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say softly, looking over your shoulder at him.
“I feel like I-I did something… And I don’t want to be away from you so much… I don’t know, I’ll just… I’ll think of something… It could be a weekend getaway trip thing or something-“ you cut him off with a soft shushing noise and you leaned back into him.
“You’re a top hero.. You’e a busy man. The only thing we can do for now is enjoy our time together, yeah? Besides you act like it’s gonna be a parting forever. Nah, I aint abouta let that happen, because I love you. I love you so damn much and nothing is ever gonna change that, you hear me,” you say softly as you run your stocky fingers through Kirishima’s thick red hair. He hummed softly and leaned his head into your hand gently, his hands taking you by the waist and pulling you closer to him.
“I love you so much… How did I get so lucky to have someone like you,” he giggled softly as his eyes started to tear up. “So understanding… So… Attractive- inside AND out… I don’t deserve you,” he said softly as he kissed your neck gently. Of course, you hum softly feeling his warm, soft lips against the tender skin of your neck and your breathing instantly gets a little heavier, more shaky.
“K-Kirishima-“ you say softly, trying to keep your composure. “I-If you don’t stop we finna be up here a bit longer than we was supposed to be,” you laugh softly with your idle threat. “And I’m not tryna eat dinner when it’s cold.” You looked over your shoulder and caught his keen gaze from behind the bangs of his mane as he bit into your shoulder with a laugh. “H-HEY-“
“Heheheh,” he laughed softly as he kissed the side of your head. “I guess you’re right… But, don’t think this is over my cute little king,” he laughed more, slapping your ass hard as he left the room. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he said with a wave and a suggestive wink.
“That boy,” you whispered softly as you pulled on one of his shirts. “Number 4 finna get his ass whooped by number 15,” you laugh softly, closing your blinds as you skipped down the stairs to meet your boyfriend for dinner and movies.
108 notes · View notes
utterlyinevitable · 4 years
Text
Carnival
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Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.5k Warning: fluff and a few curse words (and PINING!)   Summary: There’s a carnival down by the bay and Becca ditches her friends to spend her special day with Ethan. This takes place during OHSY. 
A/N: As always thanks to @aylamwrites​ for pre-reading. Also sorry this has taken so long, anon! Hope you’re happy with it 😬
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It was a warm summer day and the gang of residents finally had a Sunday off together in what felt like months. Elijah, Jackie, Sienna, Becca, Bryce and Kyra were all sprawled around the living room of the former four’s apartment, their skin itching with heat.
“I’m going to die if we don’t get the A.C. fixed,“ Becca groaned from the wooden floor.
“I called Farley,” Sienna noted from the corner of the couch. “He said someone’s coming Monday morning.“
Bryce whined, “But it’s 90 degrees today!” He was parallel to Becca, cuddling his discarded shirt as a pillow.  
“Don’t you have your own place?“ Jackie retorted. 
Bryce reached over to pat Becca’s stomach and responded, “I’d choose sweating my balls off with my best pal over me-time any day.“
Jackie squinted her eyes, still not too sure of the dynamic between The B’s. 
Elijah was scrolling through Pictagram when he piped in, “Guys, did you know there’s a carnival in Charlestown?”  
The friends responded with mixed grumbles of “no”, “really?”, and one “aren’t we too old for rides?”. 
“Says there’s a beer garden, and it’s by the water,” he added in hopes of coaxing his friends into a little adventure. 
It was a unanimous decision for the residents to leave the uncomfortable heat of the apartment and head to the park. The carnival was down by the bay and in support of the Boston Historical Society. The group circled the grounds twice, taking time to play one of those water racing games and sample all that the best food trucks Boston have to offer. 
The tap stall was by far their favorite. The gray truck was home to six different beers and even had a game bolted to the passenger side. If you managed to get all 3 rings on the vertically hanging and impossibly tiny peg, you got a free pint and a commemorative mug. Bryce managed to win free pints for himself, Becca and Kyra - although Kyra used the cancer card when the last ring spun along the peg tantalizingly slowly before falling off the side. Bryce shot her a disapproving look as Kyra accepted the free drink. The three winners stood by while Jackie fought with the worker about how this game was completely rigged, so desperately wanting a win and free beer. 
Filling up her second mug as she waited, Becca snapped a commemorative photo of her day drunk state with Bryce’s megawatt smile and wink photobombing in the background. Cheekily, she texted it to Ethan. They were friends after all. The two hadn’t crossed any intimate lines since he returned from the Amazon, though they could be caught holding hands time and time again. 
Before she could respond back she was being dragged away. 
“Come on, Becks!” 
Bryce led them to the photobooth where they all took a string of silly pictures. It was fun to immortalize this day, but Bryce had an ulterior motive. 
“Happy Birthday, Becks,” he whispered in her ear as the six of them posed with various props. 
She looked over at the bright eyed and absolutely perfect man next to her, “How did you -?” 
Becca didn’t like birthdays and she certainly didn’t tell people when hers was. The only people who knew the significance of today were her mother, aunt, and HR representative at Edenbrook.  
All he offered was a wiggle of his manicured brows and “I have my ways of persuasion.” 
“Hospital database?” she matched.   
Bryce chuckled and slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulders, “I’ll never tell.”  
As the sweltering afternoon set in, the group settled into the grass of the secluded beer garden and enjoyed the band playing some classic rock cover songs. She was leaning into Bryce when Becca noticed a familiar gray sweater passing by. 
Her eyes furrowed thinking she was hallucinating. Who in their right mind wears a cardigan in this heat!? After blinking a few times she was certain he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.  
“Be right back,” she hopped up so quickly she nudged Bryce in the ribs. “Sorry,” she mouthed as she ran after the tall and notably refined figure she’s come to admire.  
“Hey!” she called from six feet away, “Dr. Grumpy!” 
Ethan turned towards the recognizable sing-song voice and let her catch up to him. 
Becca had the biggest smile plastered onto her sun kissed cheeks when she said, “You came.” 
“It’d be a shame not to support such a worthwhile cause,” he shrugged as he crossed his arms, trying hard not to let her smile infect him. “Also there’s a gourmet mac and cheese truck I’ve heard is a must-try.”  
In her current tipsy state she didn’t catch most of his words but knew she texted him about Mac Attack’s presence as a follow up to their conversation about comfort food from last week. 
With a deviously elated smile, Becca slung her arm through his and tugged, “Lets go.” 
Ethan was stunned by her forwardness in such a public place, however, for some reason he didn’t care. 
“Where to?” he asked with a faint smirk as he shuffled along with her.  
“I’ve been thinking about fried Oreo’s all day,” Becca all but moaned, licking her lips.  
He quipped, “I’d like some sustenance to combat the imminent heart attack.”  
“Mac Attack it is!” she said in complete elation before skipping along, dragging Ethan alongside her. 
They stood fourth in line at the popular bright yellow and red food truck. The clear blue sky started to turn shades of wandering pink and purple as the sun began to set. Becca was staring up at the sky as Ethan was studying the limited menu with distaste.    
“That looks awful,” Ethan groaned, pointing at the bucket of everything-on-top gooey mac-and-cheese one of the patrons was walking away with. 
“Well if you didn’t want to eat greasy comfort food, why’d you come?”  
Ethan dismissed her comment, sheepishly caving, “Fine, let’s share.” The beam radiating off her freckled cheeks was all the reassurance he needed. “You like truffles?” 
“Nope,” she popped the ‘p’. “I like crispy onions and bacon.” 
Their eyes met and Ethan let the slightest of smiles find home on his lips. 
Ethan paid for the meal and the two carried the carton over to an empty wooden picnic bench. He held the cheesy heaven in his large palm stably for them to pick at with their two-pronged forks.  
“I concede,” Ethan began after the second forkful, “This is rather tasty.”  
“Told you!” Becca lit up. “And you should wash it down with…” she patted her body and looked around their seating area for her mug. “Crap, I left it with Bryce.” Her doe brown eyes went wide as realization washed over her. “Shit, how long have I been gone for?” she said more to herself.  
Becca stood up, grabbing her phone from her jean short pocket and texted the group chat a single emoji. 
“All good.” She put the phone back in its place and bent down to shove the last big forkful of gooey goodness into her mouth. “Whatcha wanna do now?” Ethan gazed at her as she not-so-eloquently spoke with a mouthful. “Riiiides?”  
“I don’t do rides.” 
“Heh,” she tried and wonderfully failed to hide her smirk at the naughty remark she could have made. One and a half more beers and she would have made it. 
He raised a questioning eyebrow. 
“Your options are: ferris wheel, sizzler, or photobooth and beer garden,” she listed off a few things she wouldn’t mind doing. “Fair warning, my friends are camped out in the beer garden.” 
He sighed, “Ferris wheel.”  
“So romantic!” she winked. 
“I regret this already.” 
The two chucked the rubbish in the nearest garbage pail and made their way to the side of the park with the rides. They walked side by side, their hands brushing against the other’s every now and again. In the bubble of waning alcohol and heat of this surprising summer day her pinky extended to caress his before capturing it as her own.  
Not far from the Ferris wheel entrance, they noticed Baz, Zaid and Ines in conversation by the ticket booth. With a timid look at one another Ethan took her whole hand in his and promptly changed course; 
“Photobooth.” 
She can’t say she minded. 
Becca tugged back on his hand stopping him in his tracks. Ethan whipped around, eyes pleading. He did not want to be caught, lest by Baz. 
“Beer first. You gotta catch up,” she enlightened. “I don’t want four photos of Dr. Grouch. I want Ethan.” 
Lucky enough they were at the east entrance while her friends were still camped out by the west. Even more in Ethan’s favor, one of the stalls was a local whiskey distillery. 
“Someone knew you were coming,” Becca joked as she pointed to the wooden stall. 
After some bargaining, the doctors were graciously allowed to down two flights of samples in exchange for Ethan placing a decent-sized delivery order. 
“Last one.” He inspected the liquid. “I will not be offended if you can’t stomach it. Though I will judge you.” He lifted the dixie cup up and she saluted hers as well. 
The thick brown solvent smelled like sweet gasoline and tingled against her tongue. Becca pursed her lips in an attempt to keep an indifferent face. She couldn’t do it. Her mouth begged for air and a chaser. “It burns,” she choked. 
Everything about Becca was endearing. Her cheeks were flushed and her freckles were more prominent than he had ever seen, even in the dusk and illuminated by harsh floodlights. A brisk night breeze washed over them sending a shiver up her spine. Without a second thought, Ethan shrugged out of his cardigan, holding it open for her. 
Becca closed the gap between them, turning her back and slipping her arms into the baggy sleeves of the soft fabric. The closeness and wafts of his cologne were another type of intoxicating. She fell into it. Her back pressed into Ethan’s chest, she tilted to see the ebullient blue eyes gazing down at her. His supple lips parted. The pleasant whiskey-laced breaths enticing her.  
Their locked eyes were glazed, a telling signal that it was about time to let loose. 
Ethan licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Where’s this godforsaken photobooth?”  
With the kindest of smiles she broke the trance, pulling his cardigan tightly around her and moving onto the next activity. 
They moseyed on over to the photobooth, coming full circle on her special day out. 
Being just over 6’4”, Ethan was too tall and the photographer signaled him to sit on the stool. Becca gazed at the box of props in consideration, deciding to go au naturale. She already had the silly photos from earlier, anyway. Looking at Ethan sitting there impatiently Becca bit her lip, deciding on an audacious move. 
She sauntered over, fitting herself perfectly in the space between his legs. She perched herself on his left thigh and draped her arm over the back of his shoulders, feeling every tense muscle along his upper back. Ethan reflexively closed his legs tight to give her better balance and wrapped his left arm securely around her waist. The much too big cardigan slipped, exposing her bare shoulders. Their eyes locked. His free hand flew to the exposed skin of her leg as it lifted to lay across his lap on its own volition. The corners of her lips perked before she turned her head to the camera, letting the photographer know they were more or less ready. 
They both gave their best candid smile. 
Click. 
Becca was so close. Ethan was drawn to the sweet scent of vanilla and gardenias on her neck. His eyes hooded as he relished her, and his left hand grabbed a wanton fistful of sweater.  
Click. 
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him inching closer, and tilted her head towards him. Their noses brushed. 
“It’s my birthday,” she whispered, their lips mere centimeters apart.  
“Is it?” he murmured. 
Click.  
She nodded sheepishly, her half-lidded eyes never leaving his.  
His wide eyes never looked more crystal clear. 
A signature smirk took place as he hinted, “Then I supposed ‘Happy Birthday’ is in order.” 
His heated breath was sweet with the last notes of whiskey and lingering of mint. It surrounded her, pulling her closer to him. His shallow breaths picked up as her lungs stopped working. It was as if he was breathing for her, giving her life in his simplistic existence. A fleeting pound against her side gave her a push.
She kissed him. For the first time in months they became one.   
Their lips overlapped, capturing his plump bottom lip between her own. His shoulders rounded under her touch. Neither dared to deepen the moment. Her tender kiss became bruising as he gripped her tighter, closer - as close as their flush bodies could become. 
Click. 
Ethan pulled away, “Reb-”  
She pressed her index finger to his lips. “Shh, that’s my present,” she sighed with her forehead against his.   
They sat there longer than acceptable, hearts racing and eyes conveying all they wish they had the courage to say. 
The loud grumble from the photographer brought them back into reality. 
Becca waited a few steps away from the booth as Ethan apologized and paid for the photographs. He bought two copies; folding one delicately in his wallet before walking over and handing the other to her. 
Becca stared at the first photo on the strip, her thumb hovering over their faces. “I can’t believe you’re smiling,” she contentedly muttered. Her eyes trailed down to the last. Looking up at Ethan she told him in earnest, “Best present ever.” 
Ethan’s hand flew to rub the back of his neck as he averted his gaze down to the dewy grass. “I - I knew it’s your birthday, Rookie.”  
She raised a brow, “Came down to celebrate with me?”  
“Something like that.”
Becca found the hidden smile in his features instantly. She went to take a step closer to him, daring for their lips to meet once more. 
But the universe had other plans.  
The loud bellowing voice stopped her motions, “Becks!”  
“Becca!” another rang.  
“Over here!” Bryce shouted once more from a fried food stand. 
They both let out a breath of air. 
Becca bit her lip as she looked from Ethan to Bryce and back to Ethan. “I… should go.” 
Deep brown met clouded blue, both filled with restrained sorrow.  
“Don’t get into any trouble.”  
“No promises.” She winked as she slipped out of his sweater. He accepted the fabric, now envious of how it was able to hold her all evening long. A lightbulb went off in Ethan’s mind as she started to turn away.   
“Oh.. right,” Ethan called her back to attention. She spun around, hopeful. “Here.” He handed her an ivory envelope from his back pocket with her name written out in his fluid script.  
She held the card in the same hand as the photos, looking down at it longingly. “Thank you.” Becca brought the weighted paper up to linger over her heart as she took one more look up at his sapphire blue eyes glistening along with the stars. 
Ethan gave a single nod, “See you tomorrow, Rookie.”  
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134 notes · View notes
isabellitah · 4 years
Note
I DEMAND A FLUFFY KLAUS IMAGINE🤬🤬🤬
🤍 KLAUS x SIBLING
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Title : safe place
Pairing : none but this focuses on Eightie's relationship with Klaus
Warning : a bit of angst at first and some cuss words
Request : I DEMAND A FLUFFY KLAUS IMAGINE🤬🤬🤬
Note : yOU WOULDN’T TELL ME IF YOU WANTED SIBLING FLUFF OR ROMANCE FLUFF SO SIBLING FLUFF IT IS AND- YOUR CAT IS ADORABLE HMPH HUGS AND KISSES FROM ME 🤧
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you landed on your ass in a random alley at night on 1960 at Dallas alone
you heard a faint click from afar but ignored it
shaking your head from its daze, you stood up and left the alley- set on looking for your family
-
Klaus desperately tried to push back all his anxious thougts that immediately plagued him
Why was he here?
Where even was he?
Where were his siblings?
Luther?
Diego?
Allison?
Five?
Ben?
Vanya?
Eightie?
Oh God-
Eightie-
Wait are any of you even alive?
Was he the only one who made it?
What made him, of all people, deserving of life over his brothers and sisters?
What was he going to do now?
A sob broke out of Klaus. He- no one can help him. No- no one he knows is alive... He’s alone. Shit- he’s all alone.
-
About three days later, Klaus was starving. He hasn’t eaten anything but the leftover’s from the dumpsters and whatever people were willing to give him. He was so close to giving up- I mean- he can barely be sober; how is he meant to stop the apocalypse without any of you?
He stumbled out of the alley he came from- it’s been his home for the past few days- as he followed the familiar and enticing smell of diner food. Growing up going to Griddy’s with his siblings, Klaus knew the smell of a home-cooked style meal when he smelled one. And his stomach did too as it twisted into knots of starvation. Not bothering to think anything through, he flung open the door to the diner and dropped himself into a booth near the door. Aside from the bell on top of the door ringing, what caught nearly the entire diner’s attention were his clothes. Compared to the other inhabitants of the diner – the men’s nicely pressed trousers paired with comfortable overcoats and the women’s long skirts and petticoats – Klaus’s tattered and sleeveless army shirt, laced leather pants, shaggy hair, and dirt covered face instantly earned him the full attention of the diner.
Normally Klaus thrived off of receiving attention. But God he’s tired. He doesn’t have the energy to be happy or embarrassed- he honestly just wanted good food and his family. He was so tired that he didn’t even feel it when his eyes shut closed. The firmness of the booth chair and the cool air from the air conditioner were a nice change to a cold and unforgiving ground.
-
You’ve been here in the 60s for about two weeks now. You haven’t seen any of your siblings yet but you know they’re alive somewhere- it was a gut feeling and it was what pushed you to where you are now. Luckily you had a mini sling bag with you when you all time travelled so you had some money. And that some money which would’ve been moderate for your time, was a big amount in the 60s. You were comfortable enough to have rented a luxurious apartment and not need to work for a few years but you loved helping people. And so- you found a job here at Gladys’ Diner as ‘Tee’, and you rented a comfortable two-bedroom apartment not far from here; just in case you run into any of your siblings and they need a home. It was hard at first- making up lies on why you lived alone and how you got the money you have but- you made it. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear a thing until you were called by your fellow co-worker, “Uhh, Tee?” resisting the urge to flinch, you turned to face her.
You turned to your normally happy co-worker and were immediately worried for she had a concerned look on her usually smiley face, “is somethig the matter?” In response, she discreetly pointed her pen towards the booth by the entrance. Following the pen’s direction you were immediately met with the sight of a man with dark hair and grimy skin leaning against the back of the bench with his legs stretched out across the booth under the table and eyes fallen shut. He looked oddly familiar but eh. It might be your wishful thinking once again. After all- you did imagine hearing Luther’s voice calling for Allison not that long ago- but upon looking out your window, it was just an old man so you didn’t bother. You did give that old man five dollars the next day though.
“You wanna switch for today?” you asked as she nodded in a way that instantly made you assume that she was thinking something along the lines of, ‘Better you than me.’ And so you took the notepad and pen from her and left her to cater to the counter.
Upon seeing you make your way towards the unknown man, most customers looked away while some - mostly men - continued looking just in case you needed help. Their wives did after all adore you as you had the optimism and smile of someone youthful thus bringing up this urge in them to protect you. You arrived beside the booth and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. He tensed at the contact before looking at you and once the dazed look disappeared, he stared at you in a horrified manner, “O- Oh God- Eightie- y-you’re d-” you were shocked yet elated to see your brother but you knew you had to calm him, “I’m not dead, Klausy,” you sat beside him and wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in between your neck, “I’m right here with you, okay? I’m not leaving you any time soon.”
Seeing this, the customers looking at you looked away.
You slowly detached yourself from him- much to his displeasure, “now, Klausy, what do you wanna eat? Hmm?”
“Service water, please. And if you have any crackers, I’ll take those too, please.” you rose an eyebrow but knew arguing with him would lead to nowhere in the state he was in. Klaus started to shiver from one, the air conditioning, two his slightly wet clothes, and three, from the harsh wind that came from outside when a couple entered the diner. “coming right up, Klausy,” you felt your heart break at the state your brother was in. After returning to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water, you grabbed a pot of hot chocolate and poured some into a mug, along with a plate of buttered toast before returning to the table. Looking at your co-worker, you gave her ten dollars and upong seeing her bewildered look, you told her that this was one of your siblings who went missing a few weeks ago. Lookig at you with empathy, she gave you your five dollars back and said she’ll half with you. You tried to convince her otherwise but she was stubborn and told you to go and spend time with your brother, and that she was willing to take your shift for the remaining day. It was a calm day, after all, so it wouldn’t be much trouble. Taking off your apron, you thanked her and brought your tray to Klaus’ table.
Placing the tray down, you sat down across your brother who had his head in his hands, you said, “I put in an order for you as well. I hope you still like your eggs scrambled and with tomatoes and onions,”
“Nononono- I- Eightie I ca-” he struggled to say what he had in mind as he looked at you in panic, “Eightie- I can’t pay for this. I can’t pay for anything- I don’t have any money.”
“It’s okay, Klausy, I got you.” Y/N said with a reassuring smile.
“No Eightie. I don’t want to be anymore of a burden. I-I’m fine with some crackers,” he tried to argue, “I’m skinny, I don’t need a lot of food.” even though he knew arguing with you when it came to his health was futile.
“You’re my last customer before my shift is over, Klausy. It’s okay. Don’t worry about. You’re never a burden, okay? After this, we’re going to m- our place. You’ll shower and change clothes, I bought clothes in everyone’s sizes just in case, and we can talk- or rest. Whichever comes first.”
“... Okay,” a gentle smile fell over Klaus’s face. You talked as he ate and when he was done eating and drinking, you found your old Klausy back. Your conversation jumped from so many different topics that didn’t even relate to the other. It was chaotic- but it was fun. It was a safe place for Klaus. Being with you, that is. You’re his safe place. He remembers that now.s
-
You ended up travelling anywhere and everywhere you can with Klaus- and yes, he still ended up making his cult. It was a very... interesting thing to experience. Throughout their entire journey, they had each other as the other’s safe space. Where they could let out all their fears and worries and anxieties with no fear of being judged. The safe space where they knew they were genuinely loved for being themselves- flaws and all.
And one night, Klaus let out one of his biggest insecurities.
You were both seated in the fireplace of the mansion of one of his cult members just relaxing when he all of a sudden asked, “what’s my purpose in life?” thrown off, all that left your mouth was a “huh?”
Klaus’ chuckle had a tinged of sadness to it as he repeated his question. You thought hard on it before answering him, “you never really know, Klausy. Each decision we make leads to a different path- a different purpose each time and we can never actually guess where we’ll end up in. All we can do is try our best and hope for the best.”
It was silent as Klaus processed what you said. While he was thinking, you rested your head on Klaus’s shoulder to give him comfort.
“What if I’m in the wrong path now? What if- what if this is it for me? Like, I have a cult for me- what if that’s my only purpose in life?”
“You’re not. You know why? You found me- by accident, yes but you found me. Had you chose a different diner to enter, you wouldn’t have ever found me- we both would’ve been miserable. Also- just because you got to your goal, that doesn’t mean you’re at the destination you’re meant to be in. No matter what path you choose- I’ll always- always be here for you, okay, Klausy? I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”
With tears in his eyes, Klaus straightened his back and wrapped his arms around you, prompting you to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around him in return as he buried his neck into where you neck and shoulder met.
“Thank you, Eightie... for everything. For being there for me even when I couldn’t be sober to save my self. For being there when I was struggling to become and stay sober. And for being here now. Thank you for never giving up on me even when everyone else, including I, did.”
“You’re family, Klaus. And you forever will be. You’ll always be a part of my life. And just like what you told me not even a year ago, if you ever need me, I’ll be here for you. That’s what family is for.”
Klaus smiled as you continued brushing a hand through his hair.
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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years
Conversation
RP Meme from Netflix's "A Series of Unfortunate Events: A Bad Beginning: Part One"
If you are interested in stories with happy endings, then you would be better off somewhere else.
In this story, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.
I'm sorry to tell you this, but that's how the story goes.
Aren't you going to the Festive Fun Fair, with all the jolly rides and games and snacks?
It's gray and cloudy.
Let's get to work!
Can you show me what the specific issues are?
That'd be disappointing, I made them myself.
Of course, we still need the right projectile.
Maybe it makes more sense in the original French.
Could you find a rock that's not sandstone?
I'm curious to see if I can skip the rock as far with my left as I can with my right.
I don't mean to criticize, but standard scientific method calls for stable systematics.
Who's that mysterious figure?
It only seems scary because of all the mist.
If you have ever lost somebody very important to you, then you already know how it feels.
Nobody asked you.
The front page! Some people wait a lifetime for that.
That's gonna make a wonderful headline.
I remember how I was when I was your age.
Although I don't know who I think I'm kidding, because I have no inventive or mechanical skill whatsoever.
How lucky am I to have such unusual children in my life?
Please, come in, and mind you wipe your feet on the mat so you don't track in any mud.
Actually, I'm about to be rather wealthy.
Well, welcome to my humble home.
It does seem to need a little work.
I hope you'll be happy here.
I'll still check in on you occasionally.
It looks like a list.
Did you help around the house?
This is the kitchen, where you may help yourselves to meals.
I expect you to keep everything gleamingly clean.
The stove is a bit like a servant. You have to whack it sometimes to get it to work.
This is where I do all my reading.
I don't use the ballroom at all.
You'll have to redo the floors.
It has all the usual amenities, though the management regrets to inform you that the shampoo is not tear-free. If anything, it encourages tears.
Rats bite.
Out of all the numerous bedrooms in this enormous mansion, I have chose this one for your safety and comfort.
There's only one bed.
As you can see, I have provided, at no cost to you, this complimentary pile of rocks. Thoughts?
First of all, first impressions are often wrong.
Your first impression of me may be that I am a terrible person.
A tattoo is just a decorative pigment on skin. It's not a sign of a wicked person.
It's a mistake. It'll get sorted out.
There's a village in the Pacific Islands suspended on ropes above an active volcano.
Stay here. And not a peep.
You've done something different to your hair?
May I come in?
Is this about the children?
I apologize for the noise.
I told them to cry using their inside voices.
I'm not supposed to talk about it, but I can tell you that it involved an illegal use of someone's credit card and a poisonous plant.
Let me tell you, those children are monsters.
I live alone.
Wait here, for your own safety.
You missed a spot.
I never wanna use a toothbrush again.
Why aren't you cleaning?
Plan the menu, purchase the ingredients, prepare the food, set the table, serve dinner, clean up afterward, and stay out of our way.
It's a little greasy.
Money. Hard-earned money. The most important substance on earth besides applause and lip balm.
That was dismaying.
I wasn't expecting to see you.
It's mostly law books, but there are sections on everything from Italian cuisine to the world's most threatening fungus.
Do you have a paper and pencil to take notes?
These books look promising.
All we have to do is sauté garlics and onions in a pot, and then add olives, capers, anchovies, diced parsley and tomatoes to simmer.
Looked broken, but I think I can fix it.
What do we have here?
Is there a supermarket nearby?
I had dreams of becoming an actress, you know.
Who else has such robust good looks in such a large amount?
I'm handsome and I'm talented and love your bank account!
Oh, my God, what a very handsome knave.
Unbelievable good looks and brains and heart!
I'm very very smart
And as anyone in the theater knows, after a grand entrance, the audience is supposed to applaud.
All of the artistic and financial aspects of my career are finally coming together like two pieces of a bread in the middle of a sandwich.
I don't have time to learn a second language besides whatever it is I'm speaking right now.
You know, every time she talks, it's like the tines of a fork are being jammed into my eye
You've seen them perform. Would you call them actors?
Better than nothing.
Wow, that was quick.
Where's the roast beef?
You didn't tell us you wanted roast beef.
You can't go easy on children. They need to be taught to obey their elders.
That's what happens with wealthy kids. Money is really a corrupting influence.
You're a pretty little one.
This table is a mess.
There's hardly a place to put down a baby.
There are many, many things that are better than nothing.
Trouble and strife can cover this world like the dark of night, or like smoke from a suspicious fire.
I'm worried about the children.
We need to get to them.
We need to get out of here first.
The rat is noisy.
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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years
Text
Personal Demon (Indruck)
@pantstacular requested: 58 Is such my entire jam I’d pretty much die if you did it with Indruck.  “I’m a demon, you’re a witch, we’re enemies but when I show up to kill you, you’re crying and I really don’t know what to do now.” SFW
A talented, young warlock will employ the most complex, innovative, and powerful wards on their home. 
A seasoned warlock who was never that excited about all this in the first place will employ straightforward but deeply aggravating wards on their home. 
Indrid’s nemesis is in that second category. His wards are never fancy, but they’re durable and reliable, an utter pain in his tail to break down. Some cannot be broken by spells at all, and even a demon of his skill could burn through all his power trying to destroy them.
Which is why Indrid simply pays a passing human twenty dollars to kick a gap in the salt barrier, grits his teeth passing through the Rowan trees while his skin feels like he’s getting a full-body tattoo, and uses an oven mitt to open the iron door knob (the door is lined with iron, so he cannot slip as a shadow beneath it), hissing in pain all the while. 
“Duck Newton…” He lilts, certain the warlock will be terrified to hear his voice in his strong hold, “it is time to end things once and for all, dearest enemy.”
He keeps his eyes on the present, not wanting to spoil the fun for himself by peeking at the futures. He glides into the human’s bedroom, plants his feet on the floor, “your worthless soul is mine.” 
“Ughhhh” a muffled sound, Indrid flicking on the lights to find the human face-down on his bed, “are you fuckin serious? Now?”
“Yes, Duck Newton, now” dark energy crackles in his fingertips. 
Thwump
“Ack!” He shakes his head, Duck now sitting up, preparing to throw another pillow at him. 
“Get out.” Duck glowers, voice flat. 
“You dare to order me-”
Thwump
“Get!” Duck’s eyes are wet, red-rimmed, and Indrid notices he’s in sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt that’s damp in patches. 
“Have you been crying?” 
Thwump and his glasses are knocked askew. 
“How many of those blasted things do you have?” 
Two hovering pillows turn to four and all collide with him at once.
“Clearly you are, ow, in no mindset to, ow, duel me as I, ack, see fit. I shall return!”
He dissolves into shadow and speeds out the door, materializing on the sidewalk and paying a passerby ten dollars to fix the salt ring. 
Not willing to let a plan go to waste, he repeats this process the next night. This time, Duck is laying in the darkened living room. 
“Now, my greatest adversary, it is time to meet your end--why are you still crying?” He cocks his head as Duck magics the light on. 
“Because I’m in my own fuckin’ house and can do whatever I want.”
“But you seem upset.”
“No fuckin shit, sherlock.” Duck raises a throw pillow and Indrid covers his face far faster than he’d ever admit in public.
“I merely mean that, ah, perhaps a duel would be a welcome change of pace?”
“I look like I’m in the headspace to duel to you?” 
“Not at the moment, but that could change, yes? I do wish to destroy you, is that sufficient motivation to shake off this fog of misery that’s hanging about your soul like stale cologne?”
Duck groans, but straightens, reaching over the far arm of the couch. Indrid perks up, approaches at a safe distance, certain he will see a familiar sword or spell in a moment. 
What he gets is misted with holy water.
He hisses, wiping his face in a hurry. His power is so great that the diluted mixture doesn’t harm him, but it’s as if someone is squirting him in the face with lemon juice. 
“I banished you worse ways than this, demon, but I’m fuckin tired and you ain’t worth the goddamn energy and you don’t wanna end up straight back below. So get.” He raises the spray bottle, spritzes him again and Indrid backs away, spluttering and hissing. 
“You, you think you can threaten me, shoo me out like OW some common ghost GAh that was in my nose that time fine, fine I am going.” He stumbles over the threshold, falling on his ass on the pavement as Duck slams the door. 
Perhaps a new plan is in order. 
----------------------------
“You wanna know Ducks’ what?” Aubrey taps her spoon on the edge of the potion she’s mixing. 
“His favorite food. I wish to cheer him up. Unless of course, you wish to simply tell me what is troubling him.” Indrid grins at the witch.
“You know the rules, Cold; I don’t trade information between sides. And, like, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on with him. It’s...personal, okay?”
Indrid sighs. He expected that answer. Aubrey is the child of a witch of the light and a witch of the shadows, giving her a rare balance of powers. It also means entities of all moral alignments will come to her for aid. Her rules are simple; no fighting in her house and no getting her in the middle of major conflicts.
For all that, Indrid still has never told her his true name. She calls him ‘Cold,’ as everyone does. 
“French Onion Soup. That’s his favorite thing, from the Wolfe Grill downtown.”
“He likes that coffee fudge too, the one Barclay makes” Dani, Aubrey’s wife, adds from her spot spinning fur off a massive angora rabbit. 
Barclay is a kitchen witch, one with whom Indrid has a shaky truce (he egged on a fight in the restaurant, needing some quick points with the higher demons. It’s not his fault one of the humans knocked over a candle). He can probably manage to buy fudge without being scolded.
Duck’s added more fortifications since yesterday, and Indrid only needs a few moments anyway. He finds a sliver in a plane that lets him slip into Duck’s mirror, knowing the human is getting ready for bed. 
The human senses him, looks up from the sink, toothbrush still in his mouth. He blinks once, to tired to even count as annoyance.
“ ‘wat ‘ow?”
“I have brought you food.” Indrid waits until Duck spits into the sink to pass the two bags out of the mirror. 
“Why-”
“It will cheer you up. It is your favorite. Then you will have your fight back, and be ready to face me.”
Duck takes the bags, then several steps back, “y’know, most demons would see this is a chance to get me while I’m down.”
“Well” Indrid sniffs haughtily, “I am not most demons. Besides, what good is claiming your soul if it was like stepping on an ant?”
The warlock looks at the food, then at Indrid, “I ain’t gonna eat this.”
“Bu-wha-I got it specifically to please you!”
“And it could be poisoned or cursed or some shit.”
Indrid growls in frustration, “fine, wallow in your misery.” Then he’s out on the street again, ready to cause some evil. Or to go back to the bakery and drown his aggravation in a caramel eggnog latte.
----------------------------
Duck stares at the bags, still sitting on his kitchen counter. If he’s not going to bed any time soon, he should at least eat something. Not that though. Even if it’s his favorite. How the fuck did the demon know that?
Cold has never quite been like other demons Duck’s run across. When he’d yanked him out of Boyd (because Ned decided to read the inscription on a new artifact for the Cryptonomica), he hadn’t taken it personally, but proceeded to try and tempt Duck for two days solid with everything he could think of. Then he decided he liked Kepler and could do plenty of demonic work in it, which had Duck worried. The demon is powerful, he can feel it when they fight. But, while he still worries, Cold sticks to being a mid-level threat at best even if he keeps promising to destroy him.
God that soup smells good. 
He picks up a piece of amethyst, runs it over and over the air around the bag. No trace of anything dangerous. 
Fuck it.
Twenty minutes later his belly is full, he actually feels kinda sorta almost borderline happy, and he hasn’t turned into a frog or been transported to the underworld. 
When Cold inevitably shows up again a few days later, Duck doesn’t even look up from the model ship he’s working on . 
“Thanks for, uh, for dinner.” 
“How did you know I was here?” The silver-haired man steps out of the hall, red eyes glowing behind redder glasses. 
“I may not be able to sense auras or souls or shit, but you and I been dancin around each other for long enough that I can tell when the hair on my neck is standin up thanks to you.”
“Then you are prepared to fight?”
“No. Look, I dunno now how it is for demons, but takes more than nice food to make a fella get over somethin serious.”
“I see…” Cold looks around the room, “are you certain you are not interested in even a small bit of conflict?”
“Nope. Busy.”
“Well I am not!”
“Can’t you just go find another warlock to bother?””
“No! Well, yes, but I do not wish to. You are my adversary, the one I devote most of my time to tormenting.”
“That’s kinda an exaggeration. And it don’t change that I’m workin on this.” He points to the model, “so I’m just gonna ignore you until you leave.”
There’s a huff, followed by the fluttering of his mail as the demon knocks it onto the floor. He glances up and notices that Cold’s tail is now visible and twitching with agitation. When Duck does nothing else, he knocks the remaining mail on the ground. 
“That ain’t changin my mind.”
A roll of glass on tile, Cold pushing a water glass towards the edge of the counter with his finger. 
“Y’won’t like what happens if you do that.”
The glass tips over. As water spills onto the floor, Duck summons a towel with one hand and a dish of salt with the other. Before the demon can stop him, he draws a salt circle, trapping him in a small spot by the table. 
“Erase that this instant.”
“Nope. You been poppin in and out the last two weeks and not leavin when I ask nicely, so now you’re gonna stay right here until I decide you can leave.”
The demon drops down onto the floor, arms crossed and tail thrashing, “I just do not see what is so severe it makes you uninterested in anything but work, sleep, and making ships that cannot go anywhere.”
“Don’t expect you to understand.”
“Yes, but you also will not tell me so how can you know if-” a future flickers into vision, “your romantic partner left you.”
“That’s cheatin’.”
“That is what has upset you so?”
“Yeah, because we were together for six fuckin years, and she watched me grow up since I was eighteen and was my mentor and it feels like a big constant in my life is just fuckin gone.” He leaves out the part where he'd felt it going for awhile, where part of him knew it needed to but the rest wanted things to stay as they were. 
The demon cocks his head in that way of his, smirks but says nothing.
“Nevermind. You’re a demon, love ain’t somethin you got a concept of.” He stands, retrieving another bottle of adhesive from the too-empty living room. 
As he picks up the next piece, Cold murmurs, “It is not so foreign a concept as you might think.”
Duck shoots him an incredulous look. 
“I was a creature of the divine once, beings capable of great love, even if many of them do not utilize that capacity. Even if I was not supposed to in my role. But more than the memory of that feeling, I have moments in which I suspect I can feel it still.”
“Like when you see someone do somethin real wicked?” 
The demon doesn’t rise to the paltry bait, “When I go sit in a park, or those woods you like, and draw and watch people coming and going in a thousand little moments of mundanity, I feel something more than mere tranquility. Sometimes I will go to movies or to concerts, to feel the swell of joy and excitement, and it almost seems as if I love those around me.”
It’s the last thing Duck expects him to say, and so all he can do is stare at him a moment before returning to his work. The demon, content with the silence, watches cross-legged. When Duck grabs a packet of cookies from the kitchen he pauses, then hands one to Cold. 
The demon sniffs it, proceeds to nibble on the edge before making a delighted sound and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 
“You never had Girl Scout cookies before?”
“No. I do not need to eat, and often only do so when temptation requires it. Or when Barclay makes something with eggnog in it.  Which is a pity; I really enjoy human food, you come up with such interesting things. Now it is my turn for a question. Why are you making those?”
Duck looks at the near-complete model, “I dunno. Helps me relax, nice to just be able to focus on one thing rather than worryin’ about work or warlock stuff or dyin’ alone or if you’re gonna randomly turn up in my goddamn bedroom without warnin’.”
“Knocking is not exactly demonic.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, the smile on his face oddly honest, that Duck cracks up. Giggles spill out of him as he rests his face in his hands. His elbows slip on the shiny tabletop, collapsing him forward, laughing loud enough to startle the cat from her hiding place. 
“Yeah” he sniffs, finally sitting up while wiping away tears and still chuckling, “guess it ain’t.”
The demon is smiling again, softer than his usual grin that glints like a knife in the dark. 
“Will you show me more of your ships?”
“You ain’t gettin outta that circle that easy.”
“I am aware. But you could bring them where I could see.” He seems genuinely excited at the idea. 
Duck stands, hands him the packet of Thin Mints, “I could do that, yeah. Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”
-----------------------------------------------
Duck picks up to the two reusable grocery bags, locking doors and throwing up extra wards behind him as he walks to his car. 
He slides into the drivers seat, sets the bags in back behind him. Turns around and finds the passenger seat occupied. 
“Venturing forth at last, I see.”
“I ventured forth plenty.”
“That was only for work. You have been the picture of a hermit since you were dumped, Duck Newton.” Cold adjusts his glasses in the rear-view mirror. 
“Have not. And it was mutual.”
“Shall we get out of the car so I can destroy you?”
“We could do that. Or…” he points at the bags, the demon peering into them curiously, “we could take these two bags of snacks to a concert in the park.”
Cold bites his lip. Duck holds his breath, already gearing up his spells in case the demon says no.
A seatbelt clicks, “very well.”
They find a spot under some trees, far back from the crowd. Cold is in his human disguise, but Duck would rather not risk being seen if his tail or horns make an appearance. The concert is all movie soundtracks that Duck doesn’t pay attention to. He’s too busy watching the demon gleefully explore the food he brought (he chose the weirdest desserts and snacks he could find, wanting to give him a taste of things he’d never had) and talking with him about more or less everything.
As they’re getting into the car under the light of the half moon, Cold sighs happily, “we should do this again sometime.”
“Yeah, we could. Just uh, don’t get your hopes up, okay?”
-------------------------------------------------------------
Duck is up to his elbows in the pieces of an IKEA dresser when Cold’s voice comes through the mirror.
“I need to be let in right now please and thank you.”
He sounds pained, so Duck hurries out to the front yard and opens the circle, allowing the demon to pass through. He’s hunched at an odd angle, clutching at his back. Once they’re inside he strips off his coat, revealing a splinter at the base of his neck. 
“Shit, what happened?”
“I materialized in the house of a well-prepared witch and was immediately backed into a Hawthorne bush. Lucky I am not a vampire, but gracious it stings.”
“Why come to me?” Duck is already guiding him to the couch.
“I thought you might be able to help. Also it is movie night.”
Duck examines the injury; it’s a small splinter, but the skin is already looking sickly. 
“Should be an easy fix. Lemme get my tools and I can get to work.”
------------------------------------------------
Indrid waits patiently for Duck to return, tries not to hiss at him too loudly when he pulls the splinter free. The human works quickly, and soon a tingling salve coats the sore spot. 
Rather than pull away, Duck smooths his hands down Indrid’s back, “damn, you’re all knotted up.”
“I was trying not to move too much and aggravate it.”
Duck’s thumbs rub small circles along his back, “here, I can fix that real easy.”
Indrid foresees where his fingers will touch next and let’s his desire overtake his caution. When Ducks hands come down again, he whimpers and wiggles happily. 
“Uhhhhh”
“It is my wings. In a way. They exist on another plane when not manifested here, and where you are touching is the place where it feels as you are stroking them.”
“That a good thing?”
“Yes, but you do not need to continue if you do not waAAhnnnt” he gasps as Duck slowly, steadily, runs his fingers over the spot again and again. 
The human leans forward, giggling, and whispers in his ear, “you’re purrin’.”
“I am awarerrrrrrrr.” His tail and horns appear, seeming to understand there is no need to hide here.  One of Duck’s hands skates up to his head, petting his hair and stroking his horns.
He whines, pushes his head into Duck’s hand for more. 
“Is this-”
“No Duck Newton, it is not sexual. It can be, but at the moment it simply feels comforting and pleasurable.” He purrs louder as Duck rubs the base of one horn. 
“That’s a good, uh, good demon? Bein’ so patient while I patch him up.” Duck coos. 
“Yes.” Indrid whimpers. 
“Lookit you, goin all mushy on me, so goddamn cute. Who knew you had it in you.”
“Duck.” Something is coiling through his veins, warm and ecstatic, as the human keeps up his stream of praise.
“Right here, demon of mine, just relax, lemme tend to you, there we go, you’re bein so good, such a charmin demon.”
Tears prick his eyes; he can’t, he can’t handle Duck speaking this way but speaking as if Indrid could be changed out for any one of his kind. He wants to know he means those words for him, he must, the feelings flooding him are incomplete without it and if they remain so he will wither away.
“Indrid, please, call me that.”
“Indrid.” It sounds joyous in that drawl as Duck adds a hint of pressure to his touches, “Indrid, you oughta stop gettin into trouble, oughta just stay here and put your head in my lap.”  The human is getting carried away, the fantasies becoming more elaborate, interspersed with his name, until the name itself becomes the litany. 
Indrid cries out, the energy in his veins enveloping him utterly for a moment, wings of absolute darkness flashing into view for an instant
He collapses forward, shaking, hoping the thanks pouring from his mouth are intelligible. 
“You, uh, you doin’ okay--Oh FUCK!”
Indrid whirls, finds Duck staring at his arm. There are glowing markings on it, blue and black light fading into a facsimile of ink on his skin. 
“What did you do?”
“What did I do? What makes you think this has anything to do with me?”
“Because this wasn’t there a minute ago! And you got one too!”
“I…” Indrid gapes at his forearm, where a matching symbol is setting in his skin. “Oh dear.”
“What?”
“It is, ah, well, it is a soul bond.”
“How in the everlovin’ fuck did that happen--wait, fuck, is Indrid your true name?”
“Yes.” 
“Shit! I thought you gave me another false one, or I never woulda kept saying it. I ain’t that kind of warlock, I don’t want a personal demon.”
“I am not exactly thrilled either. I cannot return to the underworld, and for the first few days of the bond I will need to stay very close to you. All the same, that was rash of me and I am sorry.”
Duck rubs his forehead, takes a deep breath, “we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, all I wanna do is sleep.”
“I as well. I suspect that took a lot of energy from both of us.”
The human stands, heading off towards the bedroom. As soon as he’s out of sight, pangs pulse through Indrid’s chest.
“Ah, Duck?”
A groan, “yeah, I feel it too. Get in here.”
Indrid hurries to the bed, finds Duck down to his boxers as he turns over the covers. 
“I, ah, I can sleep on the floor, or get a blanket for that chair, or lay by your feet.”
Duck pats the bed, “sleepin next to you ain’t nothin’ compared to bein’ soul bonded. Bed feels too big anyway. And none of that by my feet talk; you’re my equal, not my fuckin pet, even if you are a pain in my ass sometimes.”
Indrid crawls in beside him, lays stiffly on his back as the lights go out. After so much contact, his body aches to touch Duck again. 
A hand rests in the space between them, and Indrid takes it.
“Duck? I, ah, I am glad that if this had to happen to me, it was you who it happened with. I cannot think of another warlock I would actually enjoy being linked too.”
“Feelin’s mutual.” Duck squeezes his hand, voice gentle.
Indrid rolls to face him, and in the dark he can just make out the slight smile on the warlock’s face. 
“Goodnight, Duck.”
A yawn, then, “sleep tight, Indrid.”
29 notes · View notes
evilsnowswan · 4 years
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The Lake
Summary: After everything is said and done and Lex is finally defeated, Kara invites Lena to Sand Point Lake in Midvale. Out of all the places on earth she could be, a lake in the middle of nowhere doesn’t even make Lena’s Top 100, but it’s Kara who’s asking, so does she even have a choice? A.k.a. a fluffy Supercorp beach day.
Chapter One is POV Lena. Chapter Two POV Kara. They're both gay and dumb.
Loosely inspired by @lisamar1exo​‘s glorious summertime supercorp art.
AO3: Read on AO3
The Lake | Chapter (2/2): Two (Kara) | COMPLETE
Jumping was almost like flying and the cool water felt wonderful on her hot skin. Floating on her back, feeling wonderfully weightless, Kara looked up at the blue sky.
Oh, how she loved swimming. Always had. Back when Eliza had taken her to the pool two times a week to learn properly—after the first time and, at least, for the next ten times after that, minimum—she had told her that she wanted to live there and meant it. When she dove under, the world went blissfully quiet and blurry, giving her ears and eyes a much needed reprieve—before she had to come back up for air, because even Supergirl couldn't breathe underwater.
She could hold her breath though. Pretty long too. Longer than Alex, anyway.
The only damper on her mood was that Lena had stayed behind on the beach, choosing not to go for a swim with them. Kara knew not to pry or push—that did get you nowhere with Lena—but she couldn’t understand how Lena could stay behind and read a book when there was something as magnificent as this lake right in front of her.
Then again, there were a lot of things she still didn’t understand about Lena. Not fully, anyway. But Lena had come back; back to the good side, the right side, the only side; back to her. She had made the right choice when it counted and come through at each and every turn ever since. Not just for Supergirl, but for all the Superfriends. Hadn’t it been for Lena, Eli’s adoption might have fallen through and Kara didn’t even want to think about what that would have done to Alex.
So, there were a lot of things she was grateful to Lena for too.
And the rest?—They’d work it out eventually.
Eliza always said, good things took time and, if you wanted something to be good, you had to put in the time, the effort, and the love. Just lots and lots of love.
The important thing was that Lena was her friend again. And that she had come today.
“Again?” Nia’s head popped up next to her, and Kara laughed. “Or do you surrender, Supergirl?”
“Never!” Kara kicked her legs and dove, somersaulting underwater, so she was the right way up again. “I don't bend, I don't break, and I don’t decline a challenge!”
Before she could make good on her word, though, there was an ear-piercingly loud whistle from the beach that startled them both. Alex.
“Ugh! A clean cut right through your eardrums. Every. Time.” Kara covered her left ear with one hand while waving with the other, so Alex wouldn’t whistle again. “I mean, she knows I have super-hearing, and she still does… THAT!” She complained as she and Nia paddled for the shore. “It’s like she enjoys torturing me.”
When they reached the beach, Alex was waiting for her, feet in the wet sand, hands on hips, and eyebrows raised. “Finally, Kara!” she huffed, giving her a look. “Don’t think I wouldn’t have gotten in there to get you, because I would have.”
Nia chose that moment to quietly duck out of the conversation and sprint for her towel. Traitor.
“I heard you whistle, Alex.” Kara whipped wet hair out of her eyes, pushing it over her shoulder. “We came right in.”
“Hmph. I called you. Twice,” her sister said. “Maybe you need to get your super-ears checked. Now, c’mon, Kara, people are hungry and the cooler needs some—gentle!—touching-up.” Alex wrapped a beach towel around her shoulders like a cape, then guided her towards the grill and the little group huddled in the shade behind it, a firm warm hand on her back. “Argh, Kara! I know you can’t physically turn blue or anything, but you’re practically gelid.”
Tying Alex’s towel around her neck, Kara sniggered.
She tended to the cooler first, then grabbed the apron—‘Will cook for kisses’ embroidered on it in swirly lettering—from the beach chair and tied it around her waist.
Humming along to the tinny song on the portable radio, she fired up the grill with her heat vision as Kelly and Alex brought over rubbed steaks, sausages, ears of corn, and buns and set everything on the folding table by the grill.
“I hope everybody brought their appetites!”
Of course, she could have just heated up their food instead, but where was the fun in that? The grill always meant hot dogs, burgers, and steaks. It was a perfect late afternoon for that. Eliza had also forced salad and veggies on them. And there was enough potatoes au gratin left over from when Kelly had made them yesterday to make a nice side dish. Kelly, just like Eliza, always made extra. Somewhere in the cooler, too, were also a nice peach cobbler and whipped cream, Kara knew, but Alex would keep her eagle eye on that—at least until she had made sure there was something green in both Eli and Kara first.
It had taken her more than a few tries over the years, but Kara now knew how to get the grill to the perfect temperature quickly—without setting the charcoal or the meat ablaze—and she was mighty proud of that.
Satisfied with today’s work, she rubbed her hands, meaning to call out to Alex for the burger patties and more plates, but when she caught sight of Lena stepping out from the shade into bright sunlight, carefully balancing two platters on her arm like a waitress, the word ‘Ready!’ collided with her heart on the way out, and both got stuck in her throat.
Lena smiled a little self-consciously as she approached, but was swinging her hips regardless—or perhaps that was just how she walked? Normally?—Kara had never seen her walk in a bikini before, or do anything else in a bikini, so how was she supposed to know what the regular amount of hip-swinging was. For Lena. In a bikini.
“Alex said, you were probably ready for these now?” Lena held out both platters—one carrying beef patties, the other… peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.
Kara could have kissed her. Kissed her on the cheek.
She was starving. As if to confirm, her stomach gave a loud rumble, and she felt herself blush as Lena laughed.
“Spot on, huh?”
“Perfect timing,” Kara conceded, not meeting Lena’s eyes and instead taking the patty-platter from her to set it down on the folding table, next to the sausages and steaks. She then grabbed three sandwiches, stacking them on top of each other, and took a healthy bite, mumbling around a mighty mouthful of sticky, sweet, and soft, as she asked, “D’you wanna ‘elp?” 
“Pardon?”
Kara swallowed. “You could help, if you like?” Sandwiches in hand, she gestured to the grill, then off to where the rest of the equipment sat. Stuff she didn’t need. Like gloves. “There must be another apron back with—”
Biting her lip, Lena stepped closer, but shook her head. “Wouldn’t want to ruin everyone’s dinner,” she laughed, “but I’ll watch you work, if you don’t mind showing me how it’s done.”
Her voice was deep and rich, like fresh maple syrup with a heavy molasses flavor that you didn’t get with even the darkest store-bought syrups, and it seeped into Kara’s bones with a treacherous warmth.
“Uh,... Uh-huh, sure, I mean… yeah. Absolutely!”
Kara crammed the rest of her sandwiches into her mouth and wiped her hands on her apron, eager to give them something else to do. When she picked up the patty-platter, Lena stepped even closer, better to see what she was doing.
“So, first, we sprinkle garlic and onion salt on the patties,” Kara explained, as she worked, her heart beating fast and her hands feeling cold and clammy, despite their proximity to the heat. “Then a few splashes of Eliza’s special sauce.” The meat was still raw, yet, normally, her mouth would already be watering at this stage. Watching the sauce sizzle, Kara was, however, positively parched and felt a little nauseous. “Just don’t ask me what’s in it. Eliza would kill me.”
“Then I won’t ask,” Lena said, watching intently over Kara’s shoulder, her breath tickling Kara’s skin. “But it smells positively divine.”
Oh, Rao. Kara had to use all her remaining willpower not to botch the task at hand and to keep her focus on the food in front of her. “N-never press down on the burger,” she said. “You’ll squeeze all the juices out.”
“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
“No-no… we… wouldn’t. Erm, and only flip the patties once—like, about three minutes, three and a half tops, on each side.” Lena leaned into her shoulder from behind and Kara almost dropped the patty she was turning. “And, and finally, we toast and butter the buns,” she finished a little breathlessly, glancing around for the aforementioned items.
“Mmmm,” Lena hummed. It vibrated through Kara’s shoulder blades and sank right into her bloodstream, making it hum at the very same frequency. “Buttering buns… I can do that.”
She stepped away and Kara automatically took a step back, too, to compensate for the dwindling attention and closeness.
Lena laughed, swooped in and gave Kara a peck on the cheek, pointing to her apron with the dinner knife in her hand. “Thank you, Kara.”
Oof.
She’d missed this.
She’d missed the easy laughs, comfortable closeness; the hugs.
She’d missed Lena.
When the burgers and buns were ready, Kara set a few aside on the now empty sandwich platter and Lena brought the other platter of food back into the shade, where she was greeted with hoots and hollers, and cutlery banged on camping tables.
The gang was hungry.
Kara watched her go, eyes drawn to the halter tie around her neck, her lower back, and butt. Dark green was a good color on her and the high-waisted bottoms—well, if anyone could pull those off, it was Lena.
“Tell them—tell them to let the burgers rest for a minute,” she called after her. “So the juices can redistribute into the meat!”
Her explanation was met with a roar of laughter from the table. Even Lena threw her head back, laughing. The sound made something in Kara soar with delight, even as part of her didn’t exactly appreciate being the butt of a joke she hadn’t meant to tell and didn’t quite get.
“Oh, hardy-har-har,” she hollered at all of them, rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep the hot dogs for myself then.”
“Over my dead body you will, Kara Danvers!” Alex shot back, and everyone laughed again. “Come here and get some salad while it’s fresh.”
Kara made a face. Salad. Why would she eat leaves and cold veggies, when she could fill up on warm bread and seasoned meat, and be rounding off her dinner with delicious dessert instead? She shook her head. Humans were so weird sometimes.
“Kara! I know you can hear me,” Alex warned, and Kara could, she just actively chose to ignore her big sister and focused her attention on the sausages and steaks, throwing them on the grill with a flourish. They wouldn’t cook themselves, would they. Salad could wait.
When she was done with the meat and the corn, and everything sat, piping hot, on plates and buns, she simply lifted the entire folding table and carried it over to where everyone sat—laughing, eating, and chatting happily.
Feeling a deep fondness for everyone assembled around the largest camping table in her family’s possession, Kara sank down on the only remaining empty chair—opposite Lena—and looked around at them all for a moment, before digging in herself.
She felt so happy, so elated, her heart brimming with joy, she even let Lena feed her some salad from her own fork across the table—everyone laughing and cracking jokes—as Kelly was doing the same with little Eli sitting on her lap, at the other end of the table.
“Cobbler! Cobbler! Cobbler!” Kara chanted when everyone was done with their main course and salad. “Peach cobbler and cream!”
“Cobb’er, cobb’er, cobb’er!” Eli parroted, slapping his little hands flat on the table. Alex let out a groan and Kelly laughed leniently, adjusting Eli’s bib and ruffling his curls. Eli stopped to look up at her, rubbing his face and smearing ketchup all over it. “...Cobb’er? Mama?”
“Cobb-l-er,” Kelly corrected, a wipe always at the ready. “Peach cobbler. With whipped cream. Yum.” She tugged his shirt down and rolled up the sleeves a little more, wiping his hands as she went.
“Yum!” Eli said, slapping the table for emphasis, then rubbed his small belly.
“Yeah, Eli, my little man,” Kara said, grinning. “Super yum.”
Eli gazed at her for a moment, then turned to his other mother. “Cobb’er, Mommy. Super yum!” He looked at Alex with the intensity of a little bird expecting to be fed—and to be fed the good stuff. Immediately.
Kara snorted, hiding her face behind her hands as Alex’s murderous glare swung her way. Whoops.
Laughter filled the warm air once more.
“Alright, alright,” Alex said, raising her hands in defeat and pushing her chair back. “A round of super-dessert coming right up. Kara? A hand?”
Alex’s cobbler had come out of the oven looking as good as any cobbler on the cover of a fancy food magazine. Out of the cooler, Kara turned her heat vision on it for only a second—and the smell was an amazing blend of spices and sweet. It smelled just the way late summer should smell.
“Who’s ready for peach cobbler?” 
Anticipation making her smile, she assembled dessert dishes and spoons, some mismatched napkins, and carried the cobbler and napkins over to the table. Alex followed with the dishes and utensils, and proceeded to fill their dishes, one by one, before taking her seat.
Kara pouted. “Did you forget the whipped cream?”
Alex raised an eyebrow at her. “You know something, Alex,” she said to herself out loud, “you really can bake.”
“That cobbler looks delicious.” Lena said quickly but quietly, ducking her head as Alex shot her a pleased smile.
“Really, dear,” Kelly said, stopping Eli from grabbing a handful of warm cobbler and shoving it into his mouth. She handed him his dinosaur spoon. “You outdid yourself. That’s quite a cobbler you made.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s awesome, you’re awesome.” Exasperated, Kara got to her feet again, dashed back to the cooler and returned to the table a split second later—in a whoosh that sent everyone’s napkins flying, carrying the stainless mixing bowl with fresh fluffy whipped cream and a box of vanilla ice cream tucked under her arm.
“Now, who wants whipped cream, who wants ice cream, and who wants both?”
Nia’s hands shot in the air for both, Lena politely requested ‘just a little bit of whipped cream, please. Thank you, Kara.’ (Kara ignored the modest quantifier and served a super-good dollop), Alex decided on ice cream, Kelly picked both, and Eli asked for whipped cream on his ice cream and promptly began spooning it up, ignoring his cobbler altogether and squishing it as he went.
“What do we say?” Alex prompted and Eli looked up, whipped cream everywhere. He frowned, then his face split into a wide smile. ““P’ease?”
“Please and…?”
“P’ease and thank you!”
Kara laughed. “You’re very welcome, Eli!” She spooned liberal helpings of both ice cream and whipped cream on her own cobbler and sat back down, grinning at Lena, who seemed to be scanning her dessert for its every compound with her narrowed eyes, head tilted.
“This is my favorite,” Kara supplied. “It’s not fancy or anything,” she said, blushing a little as Lena lifted her inquisitive gaze and hefted it on her. “All you need is fresh fruit and pantry staples, but it’s amazing!...And it’s best with whipped cream and ice cream.”
Kara dug in, taking care to get some cobbler, ice cream, and whipped cream on her spoon, and Lena copied her, her spoonful much more reasonable. Kara watched as her green eyes lit up, savoring the warmth with the cool and creamy contrast on her own tongue, and grinned.
“You like it, Lena?”
Lena was sitting very straight in her chair and only eating ridiculously small bites at a time, but the pink in her cheeks and badly concealed smile gave her away.
“The secret is in the cinnamon,” Kara said after another big spoonful. “You wouldn’t think peaches and cinnamon went well together, but they do.”
Lena laughed, put her spoon down, and reached for the napkin tucked under her dish, dabbing at the corners of her smile, before she nodded. “It’s wonderful, Kara.” She cleared her throat. “Can you believe I’ve never tried it before? Because I can’t. It’s... delicious.” She raised an eyebrow and gestured with her hands, light reflecting off her bracelet.
Kara smiled broadly, listening to Lena listing crazy elaborate desserts she had had at fancy restaurants before and hated, her heart skipping along happily in her chest. Lena discovering new things was adorable; Lena discovering new things she liked was Kara’s most favorite thing ever. She loved making her friend happy.
After dessert was polished off, a sense of drowsy satisfaction settled over them. They sat, full and content for a while, until Alex declared it was time for Eli’s nap and Kelly got up to clear the table. Lena hastened to help, so Kara reluctantly got to her feet too, kicking Nia—sleeping with her eyes open or deep in thought—under the table to rouse her.
“You with us, Dreamer?” she asked, and Nia started, quickly grabbing random items and carrying them over to the large IKEA bag they used for anything and everything dirty that would need a good scrub and a merry-go-round ride on the dishwasher back home later. Perhaps it was Kara’s imagination, but Nia seemed to be avoiding her gaze and, at the first chance she got, hurried after Alex and Eli, claiming a nap in the tent was just what she needed.
Frowning, Kara looked after her. Well, that was… odd? Shrugging, she proceeded to clean the table with a dishrag, got another soda for herself, a ginger ale for Kelly, and a sparkling water for Lena from the cooler, and sat back down, resting her head on her hands to watch Lena read.
Lena was happily sitting there, bag on her lap, looking over some L-Corp papers, the kind of stuff that, frankly, made Kara’s brain hurt. She flipped through a few pages, biting down on her thumb, her brows knitted together in concentration. Kara tried to get a glimpse of what she was working on—complicated graphs, long text with very few paragraph breaks—but upside down it made even less sense, and she didn’t want to distract Lena or break her concentration. It probably was important.
Kara sipped her drink, listening to the radio, and quietly chatted with Kelly about her new job at the clinic, a private practice specializing on care for traumatized patients—humans and aliens alike—which she really loved. Fairly quickly, however, the topic changed to Eli and his gardening and jam-making adventures with Grammy, and Kara laughed heartily, picturing a laughing Eliza, delighted Eli, and frazzled Alex in the kitchen.
“Out like a light,” Alex walked up to Kelly, wrapped her arms around her from behind, and kissed her cheek. She chuckled lightly. “Both of them.”
Kelly took Alex’s hands in hers, lifting one to her lips for a kiss. “Thank you, love.”
Aww. Watching her sister and her wife be adorable together always made Kara’s heart swell, ready to burst with joy and happiness for Alex and her little family. Sometimes the happy rush would be followed by small pangs of something not entirely unlike sadness. A kind of longing that, Kara thought, had to be only natural. A refugee on Earth, she had lost everything, everyone: her planet, her people, and her family; and, even though she had a family and friends now that she loved to bits, part of her would always struggle with feeling like she didn’t belong. Sometimes she lost her footing, forgot her place in this world, that was all.
“Oh!” Kelly exclaimed, bringing Kara back to the present as she stood to hurry over to the radio and turned it up. “I love this song!”
She danced in the sand, lightly swinging from side to side, lifting her arms up over her head and twirling on the spot, before she held her hands out for Alex to join her.
The radio circled through a couple fast and slow songs, Kelly and Alex danced, and Kara tapped her foot in time with the music. Lena did not look up from her pages.
Sucking on her lip, Kara’s eyes swung from Kelly and Alex to Lena, and back again. The song changed once more. A relaxed tune came on. Upbeat. Reggae. Something Eliza and Jeremiah would have, once upon a time, danced to barefoot in the garden while she and Alex watched, mortified.
“Hey, Lena?!”
Lena made a low sound in her throat to signal she had heard, but her eyes remained glued to her work.
Kara took a deep breath. “D-dance with me?”
That got her attention; head snapping up, mouth slightly open. “What?”
“Dance with me,” Kara said again, her voice steady this time around, even though she felt her face grow hot. Lena’s cheeks colored too.
Lena swallowed, then burst into laughter, laughing high in her throat. “Really? Oh, I’m sorry, Kara. I—I don’t dance.”
“Not ever? Or… just not... with me?” Kara felt her face fall a little, but she wouldn’t give up so easily.
“No, no.” Eyes wide, Lena reached for her across the table, but stopped herself halfway there, her hands flat on the surface. “It’s… I just don’t dance. Ever. With anyone. Not if I can help it, anyway.”
“Is that so?” Kara stood grinning, moved behind Lena, and put her hands on her shoulders and massaged lightly. Lena leaned into her touch, her skin growing warm under it, making the air between them smell somewhat flowery and spicy. Bolstered by the music and the way Lena’s heart rate picked up—her heartbeat loud in Kara’s ears—Kara bent down to whisper in her ear. “What if I told you I really wanted to dance with you? Would you turn me down too?”
Lena took a deep breath through her nose. She opened her mouth, closed it again, pressed her lips together, and shook her head softly.
“Well, come on then, song’s almost over.” Kara purred, delighted when Lena reached back and took one of her hands.
“Your funeral,” she mumbled as Kara led her into the light and the warm sand, closer to where Kelly and Alex were still dancing—but not too close—staying well within earshot of the radio.
Kara started moving, pulling Lena with her. She kept a hold on both her hands to keep Lena from covering her face in embarrassment as her cheeks glowed even brighter, the heat behind them glowing bright red against her pale skin. Kara was pretty sure she’d never seen something more endearing, more beautiful.
“See?” She laughed. “Not that bad, is it?”
“The worst.”
No, she didn’t mean it. In spite of her protest, Lena was enjoying this, growing bold enough to move more freely, swinging her hips to the beat. Intertwining her fingers with Kara’s, she smiled—easy and open—and Kara felt a hot hook sink into her middle, the pull so sudden and so strong, she nearly lost her balance and her count.
Oh. Oh.
Rao.
The music changed to a slower song, their movements slowing with it, but hearts going in the opposite direction. Kara almost went deaf from listening to them, their joined drums clashing with the music and nearly drowning it out completely. All she could hear was Lena and all she could see was Lena too, enraptured by this glorious beauty dancing right in front of her, dancing with her, her ears and eyes and heart so full it hurt.
Stepping back, she dropped her right arm, letting go of Lena’s left hand, and raised and opened her left, coaxing Lena into an underarm turn. They actually managed to pull it off, but stumbled when meeting again, Kara moving at the same time Lena stepped forward, and they landed in a scrambled hug, entangled, finding themselves in the sand.
Kara—in her miserable attempt to save Lena from the fall—had, somehow, come out on top, in spite of her best intentions.
“Oh God! Hey, uh, Lena?” She spluttered, her arms and legs—no, her whole body—useless jello that wouldn’t budge. “Sorry, I—are you, uh, are you okay?”
Lena blinked up at her, her eyes so dark they were no longer green and her gaze so hot and heavy, Kara could practically feel it latching onto her skin, bringing it to a boil.
“L-Lena?”
Kara swallowed and licked her lips, pressing her palms into the sand on either side of Lena’s head harder. Heat crawled up her spine when Lena’s eyes zeroed in on her mouth. Her chest expanded in a shaky breath, blotches of red blooming on her pale skin like wildflowers, and Kara felt overwhelmed by the sudden urge to shower their pistils in kisses.
Lena opened her mouth, hesitated, waited.
Kara could feel her body heat everywhere from her waist down and swallowed again; swallowed thickly against the heartbeat heavy in her throat. Oh, Rao, help her. What were they doing? Even in her wildest dreams she hadn’t dared to imagine—okay, maybe in the wildest of them, she had… shamefully, guiltily, hopelessly—but, but the reality of it?! The reality of coming to terms with that and with this; coming to terms with the sheer, unfathomable truth of her body pressed to Lena’s, of Lena moving under her—
“Your hair smells nice,” Lena whispered, twirling a strand around her fingers and playing with it. “I like it.” Each breathless word was music sung low in her chest, falling and rising, slipping into a dialect that sung of comfort and safety, love and trust.
Kara couldn’t speak, couldn’t move.
Soft hands on her neck pulled her head down and hot breath parted her lips. When Lena’s lower lip was dragging across them, wordlessly giving permission and begging it, Kara closed the distance. In less than a beat, the crackling spark turned to flame, warm flashing hot, and Kara was kissing Lena and Lena was kissing her back—hungrily, messily, gloriously.
Lena tasted sweet like cinnamon. Kissing her felt like burning sunlight, warm and fuzzy, but Kara felt it in her belly first. Getting lost in Lena’s ravenous kisses, letting her explore and claim every inch of Kara she wished, Kara wanted to wrap herself around Lena fully, protectively, relishing how she felt against her, warm and soft, and, oh, so good.
So, so good.
Lena let her beachy hands roam freely, leaving tingling trails all across her shoulders and back, rough and soft at once, and Kara deepened the kiss, something raw burning in the center of her chest.
Lena gasped into her mouth with a soft moan, her teeth sinking briefly into Kara’s lip, sending another kind of pleasure zipping through Kara’s body and eliciting sounds from her mouth, she didn’t even know she could make, low and feral, heat burning in her throat and settling in her groin.
She liked how that felt. She liked that Lena liked her like that.
Kara cupped Lena’s face—willing to sacrifice anything, everything—and kissed her again, making the kiss long and heavy with the unspoken, dreams and desires fizzling into the sand around them.
(Ooh-la-la. Fin.)
9 notes · View notes
thetolkiengeek · 5 years
Text
we could turn the world to gold - a Klance Road Trip AU
we could turn the world to gold by thetolkiengeek
Chapters: 4/8
Words: 18,568
Summary: 
At twenty-four, Lance isn't where he'd expected to be, working some mindless job at a decent company, bored out of his mind and trying not to feel like the tedium was slowly choking him to death. So when he gets the opportunity to transfer to a position all the way out in California, he jumps at the chance. With all his life packed in his car, he's ready to leave.
But then, Shiro calls in a favor, and suddenly he's got an unexpected guest on his grand, solo, cross-country road trip. He and Keith could barely stand to be in the same room together in college, and he doubts that three years apart will have made a huge difference. But being stuck in a car for days on end with his ex-rival leads to some unexpected discoveries, on both sides.
---
Or, the Road Trip AU that no one asked for.
Snippet:
Lance had been hoping that maybe, just maybe, the fact that they agreed on something was a sign that he and Keith were going to get along just fine, that his fears that the next several days were going to be tortuous and horribly awkward and full of meaningless arguments, were unfounded.
Boy howdy was he wrong.
They were barely out of the state, and they’d managed to fight about pretty much everything .
Where to stop for gas, where to pee (“ Those require two completely different venues, Keith! ”), which drive-thru to hit, appropriate road trip snacks, whether or not Lance should actually be in the left lane.
“Dude, I’m telling you, stop at Love’s,” Keith said, gesturing at the blue highway sign advertising the gas station.
“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen. There’s no way in hell I’m going to a place called Love’s. It’s probably covered in Hepatitis.”
“You’re impossible,” Keith groaned, crossing his arms and sitting huffily back in the seat.
“I think you mean impassable,” Lance replied.
“If you keep camping your slow ass in the left lane where no one can pass you, then yes.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “It’s a reference to Alice in Wonderland , you philistine, and I’ll have you know I am driving well above the speed limit here.”
“Five miles is not ‘well above’ and everyone on this road, including me, hates you.”
“You say that like I care,” Lance scoffed, though he flicked on his blinker and slid into the middle lane.
To be perfectly honest, Keith’s words cut deeper than he was letting on. It was no secret that they didn’t get along, and the first couple hours of this trip alone spoke to the fact that three years apart really hadn’t changed much between them. But Lance never thought that they hated each other, not really.
Keith probably didn’t mean it beyond commenting on Lance’s driving, but it didn’t stop Lance from dwelling.
He sighed and signalled, veering off onto the exit.
“What are you doing?” Keith asked as Lance followed the signs.
“Going to Love’s,” Lance said. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
Keith snorted. “You’re so magnanimous.”
Lance decided not to dignify that with a response, instead pulling onto the sparse stretch of road with the only true landmark being this miraculous gas station that supposedly was good for snacks and had consistently clean bathrooms.
“There’s nothing else here,” Lance murmured as he pulled up to the pump.
“Hmm?” Keith unclicked his seatbelt.
“The road is empty,” Lance said. “Usually there’s like...five billion fast food places, and it all looks the same no matter where in the country you are. You know, American Gothic. This is just plain cursed.”
“You think everything is cursed,” Keith huffed. “I’m going inside for snacks. You want anything?”
Lance opened his mouth to respond, but Keith held up a hand.
“Do not say sour cream and onion because that’s not going to happen.”
“You’re no fun,” Lance pouted as he cut the engine and popped the gas cap. “At least get me an Arizona Iced Tea?”
Keith rolled his eyes and nodded before shoving out of the car.
Lance opened the door and climbed out into the late August heat, relishing the opportunity to stretch his limbs. They’d only been driving a few hours at that point, but he figured they shouldn’t push it this early in the trip. California was a long way away, after all.
He watched as Keith stomped towards the store in his red combat boots. How he stood to wear those in this heat was beyond Lance--though he really couldn’t remember a time when Keith wasn’t wearing those monstrosities. He wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in them.
Lance shifted his gaze towards the numbers on the pump, wondering how much gas would be in California, if he’d actually be able to afford it.
It hadn’t been easy, deciding to leave basically everything he’d ever known. Though his family was originally from Cuba, they’d moved to Florida when he was young, and then when he was twelve his dad had gotten a job in Atlanta, and he’d lived there ever since. He had even stayed in state for school, where he’d met Shiro, Keith, Pidge, and Hunk.
After graduating, he’d gotten a job at a tech company in the city, and he’d decided to pull a true millennial move and stay with his parents. It had seemed like the right thing at the time--he could stick around to see his younger sister graduate, keep in touch with Pidge and Hunk, who had both gotten research positions at one of the big universities in the area, and even occasionally go visit Shiro in one of the nearby suburbs.
For a while, it was fine. Great, even. But an itch had settled under his skin and the air had felt too thick, and what once had been comforting quickly became stifling. He loved his family, he really did, and he’d do anything for them, just…
The pump clicked and startled Lance out of his reverie. He shook his head, clearing away the weight of his thoughts. He’d made his decision--he was moving to California and starting at the San Francisco office in a better position. That was all that mattered.
He twisted the gas cap back on and clicked the cover shut, locking the car doors before heading into the station.
Whatever he was expecting from a gas station called Love’s, this wasn’t it. It was a large building, clean, bright cheery signs indicating that the showers in the back were vacant.
Color Lance impressed.
Not that he’d ever tell Keith that.
Lance peered around and caught a glimpse of the telltale mop of messy hair in the curved security mirror hanging in the corner. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, leaving him in the chip aisle and heading towards the bathroom.
And okay, Keith was right. Those were clean, too.
He walked out to see Keith with an armful of snacks stomping his way to the counter--because Keith always stomped everywhere, as long as Lance had known him, seemingly incapable of walking normally.
He snuck up behind him, a wicked grin pulling at his mouth, and poked him in the side. Keith jumped, squirming away.
“What the hell, Lance?!”
Lance doubled over, laughing even as Keith hit him with a glare that should have vaporized him on the spot.
Keith slid a giant green can of iced tea and a bag of chips to his side of the counter. “If you’re gonna be an asshole, you can pay for your own snacks.”
Lance pulled himself together enough, wiping at his eyes for comedic effect before looking down and gasping at the familiar green bag of Lays. “Keith, you do care!”
Keith hit him with an unimpressed look as he handed the cashier a five dollar bill.
“Can you not be a drama queen for like...five minutes? That’d be nice.”
“Can you not be a stick in the mud for like...five minutes? That’d be nice.” Lance quipped, pulling out his own wallet and handing a wad of singles to the very tired cashier.
Lance counted it as a victory that Keith didn’t respond, just frowned before grabbing their snacks and pushing out the door.
Lance shrugged and followed, unlocking the car and climbing in, starting the engine and getting the air going again.
Keith was quiet as Lance pulled out of the station and made his way back to the highway, and the only sounds in the car were the crinkle of the chip bag and Queen’s “I Want It All” playing at half volume.
“So,” Lance said, turning down the music when he had successfully found himself in the flow of traffic once more. “As much as I love road trip snacks, I’m getting hungry for, like, real food. You wanna stop at--wait.”
Lance did a double take as safely as he could.
“Are you eating...pickle flavored chips?”
Keith shrugged and popped another one in his mouth. “Yeah.”
Lance narrowed his eyes. “Hang on, you gave me shit for sour cream and onion, which is a completely acceptable chip flavor, I might add, and you’re eating dill pickle-flavored chips ?!”
“Yup,” Keith said, continuing like there was absolutely nothing strange about pickle-flavored chips. “Now what were you saying about real food? Because I could really go for a sandwich right about now.”
“I--” Lance shook his head. “We’re coming back to this, mark my words--jesus are you licking the inside of the bag?! Keith what the actual fuck ?!”
Keith looked up from where he had torn open the bag along the side and shrugged.
“Okay, you know what, forget I asked. I don’t want to know.” Lance refocused on the road in front of him, shifting his hands on the wheel. “But yeah, I don’t really want to stop stop, but if we’re gonna get to Louisiana by dinner, I’m gonna need milkshakes and fries. So, Mr. I-Have-a-Wrong-Opinion-on-Everything, you got a preference for where we go?”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. I-Hate-All-Good-Music,” Keith said.
“Hey hey hey, we both like Queen, so you can just step off.”
Keith snorted, ducking his head, but then he fell oddly quiet, the only sound being his fingernail tapping on the door and the occasional whisper of Freddie Mercury hitting some insane high note.
“Keith?”
Lance glanced over to see Keith biting his lip.
“Okay, so feel free to revoke my gay card or shame me all the way to New Mexico but...I just really want Chick-fil-A.”
“Oh thank god, me too,” Lance said, giving a half-nervous, half-relieved laugh.
“Why the fuck does it taste so good?!”
“Those waffle fries?”
“With the Polynesian sauce?”
Lance very nearly crashed the car he was laughing so hard.
“We’re horrible people,” Keith said. “We’re bad gays.”
“We’re going to the Bad Place, for sure,” Lance said even as he scanned the highway markers for the Chick-fil-A logo.
“You wanna borrow my rainbow bracelet to wear when you’re paying?”
“Hell yeah.”
Read the rest on AO3
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joonie-beanie · 6 years
Text
Welcome To The Wild Side [7]
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<-- [6] | [8] -->
Genre: Superpowers + College AU
Rated: T
Words: 2,440
A/N: Wow I’m terrible at writing lately but I’ve been wanting to write more fun, silly things for a while so here’s a WTTWS update.
It’s not long before Jimin and Taehyung’s apartment is bumping with music, a cool glass of rum and coke in your hand to replace the wine cooler you had already downed. Hoseok had made the drink especially for you, commenting that you better like it strong because tonight—you’re gonna have a real good time.
Taking a sip, the alcohol overwhelms the flavor of the soda, but you don’t dislike it.
“So,” Taehyung pipes up from the edge of the kitchen, his mouth packed full of snacks. “What game should we play?”
“Really? You wanna play a drinking game?” Namjoon questions, cocking an eyebrow.
He and Yoongi are stood over by the speakers, having been talking about rappers and music, and using a lot of technical terms you hadn’t quite been able to understand.
“Why not!” Taehyung responds, grabbing his drink off the counter and skipping into the room. He saddles right up to where you’re leaning against the back of the couch, draping and arm across your shoulder.
“Y/N is here, so why not play a game? We haven’t in a while, since it’s always just the seven of us.”
“He’s right,” Jin pipes up, smiling. “We always just lay around and talk. Why not do something fun since Y/N is here too?”
“Well, I’m down,” Jimin comments, appearing on your other side. His eyes crease happily as he looks over at you. “Any suggestions for a game?”
“Me? Gosh no, I just know like…the basics,” you say, laughing to yourself. “You know—never have I ever, flip cup, beer pong—shit like that.”
“Wow, I haven’t played never-have-I-ever in a million years,” Namjoon chuckles, moving away from the speakers towards the couches, Yoongi following after him.
“We could do that!” Hoseok chimes in, vaulting over the back of the sofa and landing on his butt with a bounce. “C’mon, c’mon—it’ll be fun!”
“Kook, you too,” Yoongi mumbles over the music, eyes drifting over to the boy who is still lingering in the kitchen. His lips press into a pout as he watches all of you settle in—Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi taking the 1 sofa, and you, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung scattering across the floor and the queen sized mattress stuffed between the couch and the TV (a common place for the bed during Friday night parties). However, after a few seconds Jungkook sighs, grabs his beer, and makes his way over. You watch him, eyebrows pinching together slightly with worry.
Since you’d arrived Jungkook had seemed…fairly distant. Was something wrong?
“Alright people, you know the rules!” Taehyung speaks up, snapping you out of your worrying. “Everyone has 10 fingers—well, actually how about 5 since we don’t wanna do this all night—and you put one down every time someone says a statement that applies to you. Be honest—we’re not here to judge—”
“And maybe tone it back a little since Y/N is here and we don’t want her to run away and avoid us until the end of time,” Jin adds in wisely. You laugh.
“Is there anything I need to know about before we start this that will scar me for life and make me wanna do that?”
“Mmm…do you have a problem with Tae being a furry?” Hoseok poses jokingly, breaking out into a laugh when Taehyung sputters in disbelief and reaches across the circle to smack him.
“I’M NOT A FUCKING FURRY, SHUT UP!”
“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, but there’s an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Can we just start this?”
“Nose goes!” Jin exclaims, and like children you all rush to bring your pointer fingers to your noses. Evidentially, having been too busy trying to beat Hoseok for his comment, Taehyung ends up being the last to react.
“FINE,” he groans, and sits back in his seat, wine cooler cradled between his crossed legs as he holds his hand up—displaying 5 fingers. “Never have I ever driven after drinking alcohol.”
Yoongi, Jimin, and you all put fingers down. The rest look on in disappointment. Immediately the three of you gather your excuses, saying things between “I barely had anything to drink” and “I can sober up quickly”, but either way Jin fixes you all with a disapproving stare that would make even the biggest man in the room curl up in shame.
And so you, who are sat next to Taehyung, quickly move the game along.
“Never have I ever…umm…failed a class!”
With a heavy sigh, Taehyung puts another finger down—Jungkook following suit begrudgingly.
“Ouch,” Jimin winces, smiling sympathetically, and then takes his turn.
“Never have I ever…kissed a boy!”
“Seems like bullshit, but okay,” Yoongi grumbles as he puts a finger down, along with you, Namjoon, and a blushing Taehyung.
“And what does that mean?” Jimin retorts, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. Yoongi shifts his gaze to Jimin, leaning forward to look him in the eye.
“Have you seen yourself?”
“Okay, okay! Let’s keep this rolling!” Hoseok, who is sat between the two, intervenes before any type of argument can start. “Never have I ever…masturbated in public.”
“Why is the game already headed in this kind of direction?” Jin asks as Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin curl down another finger. And, after a few seconds of deep thought, you shyly glance around the circle before slowly putting a finger down as well. Cheeks red, you assume that no one really noticed until you glance up and find Yoongi staring at you with a knowing grin, eyebrow cocked in amusement. Feeling hot with embarrassment, you hold up a finger and point it at him, a gesture of “say nothing”, and with a roll of his eyes Yoongi moves on.
“Never have I ever tried to cut an onion with the wrong side of a knife.”
“…this is a personal attack,” Namjoon responds, putting a finger down, and Yoongi shrugs uncaringly. You stifle your laughter by biting your lip.
“I’m just trying not to lose the game, man.”
Namjoon sighs. “Never have I ever been mistaken for a camboy.”
“You just complained about personal attacks and now you’re gonna throw one at me?” Jin says in appalment, and Namjoon snickers. Jin rolls his eyes, glancing around the circle carefully. He and Jungkook are still at one finger, while Yoongi and Jimin are at two, and the rest of you are already at three, save Hoseok—the star child.
“Fine then. Never have I ever watched porn on a school’s computer.”
Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon share a look.
“…does it count if it was on the computer in Yoongi’s workshop?”
“Yes. And did you all watch the same porn together?? What’s with that look!” Jin responds, laughing, and Namjoon huffs, while the other two put fingers down.
“That…is a question I don’t want to answer.”
“We’ll take that as yes then,” Jimin pipes up, giggling along with Jin when the eldest continues laughing. You laugh a little as well, trying to hide your smile behind your hand, and glance over at Jungkook since he’s up next. However, Jungkook still seems to be totally separated from the atmosphere of the party, glancing around the circle with no hint of humor showing on his face.
Again, you find yourself frowning.
“Jungkookie, your turn!”
The maknae turns his gaze to Namjoon. “Well, you’re already at 4 so why don’t I end this. Never have I ever had the last name Kim.”
“Oh c’mon!” Namjoon protests, jumping to his feet angrily. The other boys follow suit, pushing to their feet and leading Namjoon towards the kitchen while smacking his back and shoulders.
“Time to take a big ‘ol shot, loser!”
“Shot, shot, shot!”
You follow after the guys, laughing as you watch Yoongi pour Namjoon the biggest shot a shot glass will allow. Namjoon groans in agony, because he knows the cheap vodka is probably going to burn (and not in a good way), and the rest of you raise your own drinks.
“To Namjoon losing!” Hoseok declares.
“Cheers!” The rest of you echo, and Namjoon downs the shot while the rest of you take a sip from your own glasses.
Smiling to yourself, you hang back and fondly glance around at the group of males. To think there’d been a time when you hadn’t known any of them…and now you can’t imagine not knowing them.
Hell, if it weren’t for Jungkook intervening that night then—
You look around the kitchen only to realize that Jungkook isn’t present. Face dropping, you take a step back and look into the living room, but realize he’s not there either.
“Hey,” you say quietly, shuffling up next to Jin and bumping your shoulder against his. Blinking, Jin turns himself away from the commotion in front of him and looks over at you.
“Do you know where Jungkook is?”
“JK?” Surprised by the question, Jin looks around and just like you realizes that Jungkook is nowhere in sight. “Huh. I’m not sure. Maybe check the balcony?”
“Alright,” you say and immediately turn to look for said balcony, only to have Jin to stop you.
“Why are you looking for him? Is something up?”
“No no—I just…he hasn’t seemed? Very into the party? So I…just wanna make sure everything is okay.”
“Awww, how sweet. Well, if you find him tell him to snap out of his funk because the party won’t wait for him!”
“Will do,” you laugh, turning on your heel and heading deeper into the apartment. Since you’re not familiar with the living space it takes you a minute to locate the door which leads out on to the small balcony, and, sure enough, when you peek through the glass panels you spot Jungkook.
Gripping the handle, you slide the door open, and at the telltale sound Jungkook perks up from where he’s leaned against the metal railing. However, when he turns and sees that you’re not one of the six hyungs he had expected, his eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he says, scooting over to make room for you beside him.
“Hi,” you say, smiling friendlily. You step up, folding your arms on the chilled metal guardrail. “It’s pretty cold out here, you like the cold?”
“Not necessarily,” he mumbles in return, and when you glance over you notice that goosebumps have risen on his skin.
“So…why hang around out here then?”
“Just…needed a break, I guess. What about you?”
“Me?” you echo, “well…I came out here because I was worried…,” Jungkook glances up at you, and you flash him a sad smile, feeling a little awkward. Sure you feel pretty comfortable around all of the boys but every person handles emotions differently, and you’re not sure how Jungkook reacts to being questioned about his own.
“Worried?”
“About you.”
Jungkook blinks, gaze sinking down to look at the parking lot below.
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry if I’m prying! I just…you know, I care about you,” you admit, eyes wandering to night sky above. “I know it might seem silly considering I haven’t known you all too long but…I do care about you. And you’ve been acting a little…different…tonight, in my opinion, and I was wondering if you’re okay.”
Silence stretches for a few seconds, a gust of wind causing your hair to settle around your face and a chill to sink into your skin. Anxiety knots in your gut, because you really do like these boys, so you don’t want to make anything with Jungkook awkward but—
“Y/N—”
“And if it’s because I’m here I can go!” You interrupt up, pointing over your shoulder towards the front door of the apartment. “I don’t wanna ruin anything for you guys. I’m sure it’s kinda weird since I basically just popped into your group all of the sudden, so I’d totally get it if you don’t like me being here—”
“What? Y/N, no—,” Jungkook cuts in, taking a step forward and gripping your wrist when you move to leave the balcony. You blink in surprise, looking up at him, and he shyly meets your eyes.
“That’s not it at all. I’m totally fine with you being here. I like you. I actually just…feel kind of bad for dragging you into all this.”
You stare at him, head cocking to the side in puzzlement.
“What?”
“I mean…I’m glad I saved you that night and I don’t regret helping to keep you from the Sharingan guy a second time either, but…,” he sighs, cheeks turning a little red and eyes glancing off to the side. “The guys…they keep making moves on you and I don’t know if it’s making you uncomfortable or what. Like…I don’t regret saving you but I’m also sorry for dragging you into this since the guys basically forced you into our group? Does that make sense?”
“It…it does,” you blink, and then crack a smile, exhaling a laugh through your nose. “It’s fine though, Jungkook, really. I’m honestly really happy knowing all of you and being able to hang out with you like this so…thank you.”
Reaching a hand up, you cup the side of his face and then press forward, touching your lips to his other cheek.
“I never did properly thank you for saving me. Either time,” you whisper, pulling back and smiling at him brightly. Ears the color of tomatoes, Jungkook rubs the back of his head, eyes fliting around the balcony.
“Well I think you’re a little late, but you’re welcome.”
“Good, now stop being a loner and come enjoy the party,” you say, hitting his arm playfully as you turn back to the door wall and slide it open. “Besides, it’s fucking freezing out here. Get your ass inside.”
“Alright, alright~,” Jungkook responds with a roll of his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips, and, together, the two of you step back into the apartment.
“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU GUYS BEEN WE’RE PLAYING SUPER SMASH BROS.”
“GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW.”
“Only if I can play as Kirby!” you retort, skipping over to where the boys are gathered on the floor in front of the TV. Jimin tosses you a controller, and when Jungkook settles in beside you, Yoongi throws one into the youngest’s chest, causing him to wince.
“Kirby is the worst,” Jin retorts, totally serious as he selects Pikachu as his player.
“Yeah? We’ll if you still feel that way after I kick your ass.”
“Hey. Fuck you.”
“Fuck me? No, fuck you!”
“OKAY, CHILDREN,” Namjoon butts in, starting the game and picking a stage. He grins as the countdown begins on screen.
“Less talking, more fighting.”
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runicscribbles · 7 years
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[Read all Chapters on AO3]
Rocky desert gave way to flat empty scrub, mile after mile of nothing. The rare tiny town or roadside gas station was the only thing that broke up the monotony. They stopped to eat at little diners, sharing giant stacks of pancakes and greasy baskets of onion rings. Every time they saw a tourist trap with the world’s largest ball of twine or the world’s largest toilet, Shiro insisted that they stop to take pictures.
Every single time, Shiro would make jokes and laugh. It was everything Keith had ever wanted. For a little while, he stopped caring about how quickly they traveled.
They slowly turned south, scrubland becoming endless farms that stretched out towards the horizon in every direction. Keith switched off driving, settling into the passenger seat, listening to whatever local radio station they managed to pick up, but mostly watching Shiro. It felt like there was no one else in the world besides the two of them. Things were finally going right. Until they weren’t.
The car sputtered, almost loud enough to shake Keith out of his reverie.
They still had a long way to go. Keith planned on passing through two more tiny towns before they got to their camping site. Then beyond that was the Great Lake, a vacation stop Shiro had last visited when he was eight and Keith had only ever heard of. There was supposed to be an Air and Sky “Musume” somewhere along the way, with definitive proof that aliens walked among them. Shiro promised he was already preemptively insulted on Keith and Allura’s behalf. Mostly they both agreed Coran would be flattered.
Overhead, the sky rumbled with it. It had been dark and overcast for hours, almost like a threat.
“Hey…” Shiro started, and Keith stopped trying to decide what junk food he wanted. They hadn’t trained in days. It made him feel vaguely sick sometimes. Tomorrow, Keith promised himself, he would fix that. They could both use a jog.
“Wanna switch?” Keith guessed.
“Uh, just give me a minute first.” The car sputtered again as Shiro pulled over and switched it off with a frown. “Just stay here.”
Keith had no intention of stay put and hopped out of the car as Shiro opened the hood, studying the engine as if either one of them had any hope of figuring out what was wrong. Even though they were pilots, they’d both studied enough basic engineering to handle minor repairs on a space craft. The Garrison cross-trained their cadets for all the worst possible scenarios, just in case they were stranded and the engineer incapacitated. After a year or so in space, they’d gotten fairly proficient. None of that helped them when it came to a car engine.
“What’s wrong with it?” He asked tentatively as Shiro checked the connections of the wires and tubes.
“No idea.”
“Well, we need to figure it out.” Keith ground out. It was the only option. There was no turning back now.
Thick blue smoke was wafting out, choking them. There was nothing to do but back away, coughing and sputtering.
Keith felt that rising, helpless frustration. Things were going so well for once! Shiro had been happy, they’d been getting closer. If he could just keep them on schedule, Shiro would be able to see how much planning Keith had done and then…and then…
“Damn it!” He kicked the side of the car.
“Hey, calm down. It’s going to be okay. Maybe we’ll need to call someone?” Shiro was always so composed. Normally it was a comfort. Now it was just the brutal realization that this didn’t mean as much to him. It wasn’t real.
“Call who, Shiro? We’re in the middle of a goddamned cornfield miles away from anywhere and-“ A fat drop of rain splashed down on Keith’s face, interrupting him. “Oh perfect.”
“Ma must have roadside assistance on it. I’ll call her, we’ll figure it out. Why are you acting like this?” “Because you don’t care!” Keith snapped. “You don’t know and you don’t care what this-” He choked on his anger, lost himself in it like he hadn’t in so long, like he didn’t need to with four other people grounding him. He cared about them, about all of them, more than he’d allowed himself to care about anyone in so long, and at the center of it all was his best friend. Now he faced losing everything, and Shiro just didn’t see it. The worst part of it was that he still couldn’t blame Shiro. After everything the Galra put him through, he deserved a chance to go back.
“Of course I care.” Shiro was immediate contrite and something in Keith’s chest came loose, emotions unbound and spilling out of him before he could catch hold. Overhead, the clouds opened, rain slowly starting to fall, but growing steadily with every furious beat of his heart.
“Do you? Because all you’ve been talking about is how great things used to be and how much you can’t wait to be back here again once it’s all over. You don’t-” Keith flung his arms out wide as the rain plastered his clothes to his skin, soaking him in warm summer rain. “You have no idea where I was the last week. All the rest of you got to go home to your families and people who missed you and love you, and you know who missed me? No one. No one even noticed I was gone, Shiro. When all this is over, the rest of you can just go back to your lives. But I don’t have anyplace to go back to, I-I…”
“Keith.” Shiro’s voice was soft, almost lost in the driving rain, but Keith pulled away.
“I thought this week, just you and me… you’re the only home I have, Shiro. And it all goes wrong.” Keith choked on his tears, grateful that the rain could hide them. “I just wanted. I could tell you…”
He didn’t want just anyone. He wasn’t looking for fame or recognition. He just thought that, even if Shiro didn’t want to be with him, Keith could convince him that he was worth keeping in his life. This was his last chance.
Shiro was soaked to the bone, his damp hair plastered to his forehead, shivering in his faded cotton shirt. Why would anyone want this? What did Keith have to offer him? But all Keith knew how to do was hold on. He’d gone as far as Voltron could carry them, crossed galaxies in the span of a blink, and the only peace he’d found was at Shiro’s side. How could he give it all up? Shiro took a step forward, and Keith tried to move back, but the ground beneath his feet sloped, turned muddy where the beaten path dropped into the roadside. He could run, he still had that choice. “Keith stop. Please.” Then Shiro was pulling him into his arms, embracing him so tightly it almost hurt.
“I-I’m sorry.” Keith said, knotting his hands into Shiro’s wet shirt.
“Shhhh, don’t apologize.” He brought his fingers down the side of Keith’s cheek, coaxing his chin up. “Things were easier before all of this. Before this.” He curled his metal fingers before gently stroking them through Keith’s hair. “I’m not the same person I used to be, I’m angrier, I’m broken. They tried to make me into a monster and some days, I’m not sure they failed.”
“Shiro, that’s not-”
“Let me finish.” Shiro cut him off gently. “I missed my family, but the person they used to know is gone. They thought I was dead and they moved on. I love them, but I’m different, I don’t fit in that life anymore. I don’t know if I ever could. I don’t know what I am. I can’t be the person you used to know either back when we were in the Garrison together, even though I want to be. I thought if we came back here, maybe I’d remember how.”
“You’re still yourself.” Keith’s reply was swift and fiercely protective. “I don’t care that you’ve changed. We both have, but you’re still you. All the parts of you that really matter. I don’t want to go back for some past you, I just want you.”
Shiro was smiling at him, his eyes crinkled at the corners. It felt like a punch to the gut, and Keith didn’t know to defend himself. “When I’m with you, I don’t doubt who I am. You’ve seen me at my worst and you still… When I’m with you, I don’t have to worry about being anyone else. Keith, you’re my best friend. You’ve been my best friend ever since, ever since you said 19.4 wasn’t that impressive.” Keith cracked a smile, without meaning to, old memories made sweet with time, but he remembered the endless frustration that came with trying to beat nineteen-goddamn-four seconds in the Garrison’s flight simulator. “I wanted this trip to be fun for you. If I’d have known you didn’t want the week alone, I’d never have let you go.” Shiro shivered, and Keith didn’t stop himself from reaching up, gently cupping his cheek. Shiro let him. Shiro never stopped letting him. “You’ve always had me, Keith. I just wish you’d let me stay.”
“I wanted this to be perfect so you’d never want to leave.”
“It’s always been perfect.”
The kiss was as easy as breathing, Shiro bending slightly and Keith stretching up to meet him. It was as gentle as their confession, bodies fitting together like they were two pieces of a single whole. Keith dizzily wondered why it had taken so long to get here and why he’d been so worried. He felt elemental with the storm in his veins, the warm surety of Shiro’s hands keeping him grounded.
Thunder cracked overhead loud enough that they pulled apart with a startled yelp that turned into breathless laughter. They slammed the hood closed and made a dash back to the car, soaking through the seats and pooling water on the floor. The windows fogged with humidity as they shoved and teased, wringing out ruined clothes on each other and rummaging for towels that barely helped at all.
They leaned together, sharing warmth as they watched the rain with their hands clasped tight.
Shiro was right, it really was perfect.
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evenstevensranked · 7 years
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#50: Season 3, Episode 20 - “Surf’s Up”
Recurring character Zack Estrada invites Twitty to go surfing with him and his friends. Out of jealousy, Louis, who was not invited — invites himself.. which causes all sorts of drama. Meanwhile, Ren meets and falls for a guy named Gil who she has reason to believe might be a merman.
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Okay, so I just want to start off by saying… a lot of people don’t like this episode. I looked at some old forums from 2000-2006 recently and so many people were like “This episode sucked!” right after it initially aired, lol. I guess I can see why they felt that way, but this episode is actually one of my personal favorites. Why have I ranked it #50 then, you ask? Well, upon re-watching.. it felt a little flat and sort of dragged on. It wasn’t as funny or strong as I remembered, but I still absolutely love the basis for the whole thing. If we’re looking at what I’m basing my rankings on, this one probably meets only 2 of the 6 requirements - “personal favorite” and “quality plot line.” So, now that you know my reasoning... let’s dive in. (Pun intended.)
In the opening scene, we see Louis and Twitty at lunch when *dun dun dunnnn* Zack Estrada calls Twitty over and invites him to go surfing at Troubadour Point. Now, this episode actually marks Zack’s last appearance. So, without getting into detail.. Basically, Louis has always been super jealous of this dude. Like, incredibly jealous. The jealousy dates back to early Season 1 and spans 4 episodes throughout the shows run. I refer to it as The Zack Estrada Saga. And here, it continues. The third to last episode of the series, and he’s still jealous.
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I know that feel, Lou. 
When Twitty returns to their lunch table he’s talking excitedly about spring break. Which, piggybacking off of what I said last week, is another reason why I fully believe these kids were intended to be high school students. Because, no middle schoolers I know go gallivanting off to the beach unsupervised for spring break, lol. But, hey! Maybe it’s different in 2017. Nah, yeah. Something’s telling me it’s definitely different in 2017. Middle schoolers look and act 25 years old these days, so.
Louis’ jealousy is very evident when he passive aggressively asks Twitty when he started hanging out with Zack and his friends. Twitty says he went surfing with them last spring break while Louis was at a temper tantrum workshop. This is the first funny moment of the episode. Louis responds by screaming at Twitty on the verge of tears, “nOW YOU LISTEN HERE! I EXPRESS MYSELF APPROPRIATELY NOW!” Louis decides to go ahead and invite himself to Troubadour Point even though he has no idea how to surf.
This episode was always somewhat refreshing to me, because it’s one of the only ones where we see our characters in an environment other than their houses or school. That’s something cool about early Disney Channel shows. They weren’t contrived or restricted to a sound stage on a fake beach like Hannah Montana, for example. They’re actually at a real beach and I love it. 
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They make a point to show Twitty and the owner of the beach shack rub a sacred lucky surf idol tiki thing and say “Pray for waves!” Louis enters the shack with his surfboard (which is bad luck apparently) and knocks over the tiki. Yikes. This reminds me of The Brady Bunch Hawaii episode, lol. I was just waiting for the bad luck music to play. Zack was already a little annoyed when Twitty told him Louis was coming, so now… his dislike for Louis is pretty strong. 
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Side note: I feel like Disney Channel totally typecast Brandon Baker as that ~ethnic surfer bro.~ For those of you who don’t know or never realized, he also played Johnny Kapahala (a.k.a Johnny Tsunami). I just came across this cute little followup series Disney did with him last year. Side side note: Brandon is actually biracial (white and fillipino) and they portrayed that accurately on screen in the Johnny movies! Random to mention, I know. But I’m biracial so I get oddly happy when I notice this stuff, lol.
There are actually two mini subplots in this episode, which might contribute to its “off”-ness. We have Tom who’s trying to build a perfect sandcastle. And we have Beans who’s metal detecting, but just ends up stealing people’s stuff. Beans really shouldn’t be there. His bit is useless. I understand it was most likely an attempt to get everyone involved in the fun beach location episode.. but, I feel like there might be too many things going on here.
Tawny is sitting by Tom, all covered up from the sun. Tom asks her why she isn’t helping with the sand castle and she’s like “Oh, I’m just waiting for a little more cloud cover.” And, Tom says “Oh. Right. Heaven forbid a ray of sunshine should touch your precious porcelain skin.” Tom is the best. But of course.. Twitty, Zack and the surfer bros go running to the ocean and step all over the castle. Louis is trailing behind them like a lovable uncoordinated doofus and ruins the remainder of it. Tom is so sad. Bless his heart.
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Ren, Ruby and Monique are chilling on the beach too when some guys ask them to hang out. Side note: This one dude who Monique runs away with!! I always thought he looked familiar and as I was watching it again today — it hit me! He went on to be a member of fictional boyband Boyz N Motion from That’s So Raven! Omg. I looked it up just to make sure, and I was in fact correct. His name is Michael Copon. So, there’s that.
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Ren is on the dock throwing pebbles and shells into the sea when a guy emerges from the water and throws shells back at her, lol ok. The two start talking and she finds out his name is Gil! Yep. THE Gil who breaks her heart in a pancake house in The Even Stevens Movie. Gil swims away, and Ren can’t help but notice the giant glimmering fin that splashes in the water. I’d honestly be a little confused, too.
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My inner subconscious Social Justice Warrior came out a bit when Ren sees Monique and Ruby doing their hair and makeup and says “Ah! Makeup and hairspray at the beach. Very nice, girls. I thought you already met some guys.” To which they respond, “Yeah, and we wanna keep them.” NOOOOOO! Sorry. I hate to view things through that lens, but after spending so much time on Tumblr and Twitter (especially in the current climate of the country) it just rubs off on you! Ugh. You can’t escape it! Anyway, Ren tells them about Gil and the whole fin thing and they find it absolutely hilarious.
Out on the ocean, Twitty and Zack’s crew are bummed because there are no waves. Zack angrily says “Pfft! I wonder why…” And gives Louis the nastiest look as he comes paddling up to them all happy. I feel so bad. Zack yells at him for bringing his board into the shack and breaking the lucky surf idol. The gang desert Louis and head back to the beach for lunch. Twitty sides with them saying “sometimes I just need to do my own thing, man” and leaves Louis alone in the middle of the ocean. My poor baby. :(
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I will not stand for this! Protect Louis Stevens at all costs. 
Louis goes back to the beach and once again walks right through Tom’s sandcastle. Come on, man! You could’ve walked around it, lol. It’s not even like he was running.. he was casually walking. I can’t. He goes to the dock and finds Ren with binoculars looking for Gil. The two of them have a “conversation” that’s not really a conversation. It’s just them going back and forth ranting about their own problems without actually listening to the other. It’s a cute sibling moment, haha. I actually really love Louis and Twitty’s friendship, though. They’re like an old married couple in this episode. I think it’s adorable. During this scene Louis is so fed up with Twitty ditching him for Zack, so he decides to go surf on his own. Meanwhile, Ren is ranting about Gil being real, knowing what she saw and that she’s not crazy.
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“At least your best friend didn’t ditch ya. He’s hanging out with his ~new~ surfer buddies. They’re probably having a good’ol time. Laughing, eating onion rings. Twitty doesn’t even like onion rings! Ya know?! So, it’s weird. He’s probably faking like he likes them!” I love this.
Ren decides to go out on the ocean in a boat and call for Gil by making dolphin noises. She brought sardines to lure him with and everything. This is pretty funny and one of my favorite scenes because it’s rooted in miscommunication. Plots with comedic miscommunication are one of my favorite things ever and it’s executed really well here. Naturally, Gil pops up from the water. Like... I’d believe he’s a merman, too. Why is he out there in the ocean all the time?! What was he doing underwater?! How long was he under?! How was he breathing?! All valid questions. 
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How creepy is that?! lol
He swims over to Ren and tells her he was getting Lobsters for his dad, King Neptune. I’m dead. She’s like “Wow. So you really are a sea person…” - “Yep, born and raised!” he says. This is gold. Then we get a super cringy, awkward moment. After a tiny bit of flirting, Gil proceeds to dramatically kiss Ren????? Slow your rolls, buddy. That’s a little fast for Disney Channel, don’t you think? They just met 2 hours ago at the most, and Ren is in middle school. I’M TELLIN YA! THESE KIDS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE JUNIORS AND SENIORS IN HIGH SCHOOL, I SWEAR! It’s the only logical explanation for certain stuff. 
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Beans is a freaking idiot who hovered his metal detector over peoples’ pocketbooks and crap all day and stole their personal belongings. But he refers to it as “buried treasure.” How stupid can you be?! Like I said, he’s pretty useless here and did not need to be included in the episode. Plus, you know I’m not the biggest Beans fan. Finally, we see him hover the detector over a tip jar in the shack. He goes to steal all of it before Tawny stops him. Tom comes over and announces that the Lost and Found is open, yelling out all of the items in Beans’ bag lol. There’s one bit where Tom shouts “ONE GOLDEN……. oh geez, this is mine” and sneakily puts it in his pocket. Uh. What the heck was it?! Do I even want to know? Can anyone tell what that is?
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While everyone’s in the shack sulking over the lack of waves, Twitty decides to go out and attempt to surf again. While he’s sitting out there, a freaking giant wave comes out of nowhere and sweeps him away. Louis notices and runs to Twitty’s rescue! They don’t skimp on the dramatics here. Louis kicks into full Baywatch slo-mo mode with an 80s knockoff power jam “You can count on mEeEeeE, I will always beeee thereeee for youuUuUuU” playing in the background. So good.
One thing I really like about Even Stevens is that it doesn’t take itself too seriously. They’ll throw in giant computer generated waves, and a terrible green screen job - but it doesn’t matter. It’s not supposed to look good, it’s supposed to be funny. It doesn’t need to look real to sell the moment on this show. (Christy said something similar on the movie’s DVD commentary!) If this scene looked realistic, the episode would pull a 180 and turn into a drama. That’s not what they were going for, haha. 
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A totally not superimposed Twitty getting swept away.
Louis cracks me up. Literally anything out of his mouth is funny because of the way Shia phrases it. Once he rescues Twitty he says “You know what’s funny to me? That the worst surfer in the world is havin’ to save Hot Shot Surfer Boy over here.” They proceed to argue like an old married couple some more. Twitty says he never called himself Hot Shot Surfer Boy. Louis calls Twitty two-faced and insists he buy him a Philly Cheese Steak to apologize. It’s so petty, I love it so much. When suddenly… ANOTHER WAVE COMES OUT OF NOWHERE! We get a wonderful Louis Scream as they frantically paddle. They end up briefly surfing the wave together. 
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Twitty: “DUDE THIS IS SO AWESOME THIS WAVE’S LIKE… 10 FEET OVER OUR HEADS!” Louis: “DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT, TWITTY! I’M STILL MAD AT CHUUUU!”
Louis falls off and disappears into the sea, which is hilarious looking. But, also awful because if this was a drama, he would’ve died. But, anyway. Twitty comes riding up to shore and everyone surrounds him with praise for conquering that gnarly wave all by himself. Meanwhile, Louis washes up to shore covered in seaweed. This poor child. The two of them share one of those conflicting ~emotional~ moments where one person knows they’re being a jerk and looks off sadly at the person they’re letting down. :( Thankfully, Twitty tells the truth when Zack asks him how he caught the wave and everyone’s shocked that Louis actually did something right.
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Ren’s sitting on the beach when some guy approaches her, and she realizes it’s Gil…? But, he’s walking? With legs? And then everything gets cleared up. “King Neptune” is the name of his dad’s seafood company, and he swims with a uni-fin flipper. I almost wish there were more layers of miscommunication! It could’ve been even funnier.  
Louis and Twitty end up having a heart to heart while sitting in Tom’s sandcastle. It’s precious. I wish I had a friendship that tight. Instead I’m sitting here, indoors, blogging about a fictional friendship. Twitty apologizes for ditching Louis, and Louis apologizes for inviting himself. But, Twitty says he’s glad he did because he might not be alive. “Yeah… The whole save your life thing. Whatever, it’s all in a day’s work.” I love Louis. How could you not be this guys friend?! To this day, I wish I had a friend as funny and chill as Louis. Dang. Twitty even bought him a Philly Cheese Steak! Aw. They split it and it’s a nice moment. But, as they’re eating.. they have to throw in a bad line. “Huh. It’s a little dry, isn’t it?” Louis asks. Cue another giant CG wave. Get it? Now the sub isn’t dry anymore! Hah..hahaa..ha…? I never thought that line was particularly funny. It’s almost on par with this terribly cheesy (and insensitive) deleted scene from Titanic. But the visual of them getting hit by the fake wave while sitting in a sandcastle is one of those things that will always cheer me up. I can’t look at that without laughing.
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And that’s it! The episode ends with a random Twitty-Stevens Connection music video "Dawn Patrol" lol. The song always gets stuck in my head. Ugh. It’s so cringy in the best way. I actually love some of the bloopers they included. But, hey! Who’s the rando on bass? Beans became their bassist earlier in the season. They use Beans for a throwaway metal detector plot, but don’t have him play bass in the band he plays bass for. Okay. Also according to the episode credits, AJ Trauth actually wrote the song! Haha, awesome.
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So, yeah. My opening statements pretty much sum up my feelings towards this one. But, one distracting thing I feel like mentioning is that this episode uses one too many unflattering fish-eye style close ups? WHY?! Look:
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One too many! ONE TOO MANY! Paul Hoen directed this one. He still directs for Disney today, btw! I wonder what made him decide on this? It really stood out to me and gives the episode a bit of an offbeat, quirky feel. 
Thanks for reading guys! I feel like these posts are getting longer and longer. I have to reel myself in here. (Okay, no pun intended there.) As usual, chime in below. Are you one of the people on that old forum who thought this episode sucked? I personally like it a lot and was tempted to rank it higher!
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fandorkofeverything · 5 years
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RdR2- Doubts And Scars Chapter 11
Forgive me, I forgot to write in my Irish bastard in *facepalm* Let's just pretend Javier, Arthur and Charles rescued him right before Clemens Point, okay? -lol-
/Katherine's P.O.V/
"Help me pack. Now." I told Kieran and Raine, shoving my clothes into a bag.
"Why?" Kieran asked, walking over towards me.
"What's going on?" Raine copied her brothers' actions.
"We're moving. We've been spotted. It's too dangerous here. Get your stuff." I told them, pulling my book out from under my cot.
"Okay." Raine paused for a moment. "Done." I stopped putting my stuff away and looked at them.
"What'd you mean?" I asked, confused.
"All we have is our horses and the clothes on our backs." Kieran explained, crossing his arms. "We've never had anything of our own."
"What? You don't have any books? Or journals?" I asked, they both shook their heads.
"No." Kieran stated, looking down.
"We can't read." Raine explained and hummed in thought. They can't read. They have no clothes besides the ones they're wearing. And they don't know how to use a gun/bow properly. No wonder they wound up with the O'Driscoll's. They were scared stiff. No telling what kind of hell they went through. With Colm O'Driscoll….. He's not the kindest man. I've only met him twice, and both meetings were very brief. I was only six and fourteen at the time. I stood up and looked them head in the eye.
"Let me help you." I offered, them having surprised glances. "With the clothes. How to use a gun and bow. How to read and write. How to survive. Let me help."
The siblings exchanged affectionate looks and wrapped me in a giant bear-hug.
"You have showed us nothing but kindness since we've arrived here. We've never been exposed to such kindness since you." Kieran told me and I smiled, embracing the hug. Kieran has never hugged me. Not once. I have the feeling something bad happened to him, regarding Colm. Dad said he did witness him getting smacked in the face….. Maybe it went more than that.
I removed myself from the hug and smiled. "That's what family does for one another. We help each other out." I explained, with a smile. Raine copied my actions, tears in her eyes and she hugged me, as I picked her up slightly.
"Thank you." She whispered, happy tears in her eyes.
"Always." I smiled and sat her down.
"I've always wanted a sister…" She told me and my heart warmed at her words. I've always wanted a sibling, but never had one…. Technically. With Isaac, my younger brother of two years..….. I don't think of him often.
"And I've always wanted a sibling," I told her, looking up at Kieran. "Now I've got two."
"Where are we headed, anyhow?" Kieran asked and I sighed, shaking my head.
"Clemens Point. Near Rhodes. Charles and my Dad scouted it earlier, also helping out a Germen family. We just have to pack up and leave." I told them, grabbing a necklace and putting it around my neck.
"You ready, mi amor?" Javier asked, walking up to us. He had already put his stuff on Boaz.
"We are, yes." I told him, standing up.
"Good. Everyone else is already there." He paused for a moment. "Along with someone else." He smiled for a moment and I tilted my head.
"Who?" I asked and he smirked.
"He's your Uncle, you tell me." I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands.
"Uncle Sean?!" I exclaimed, nearly jumping for joy. "You found the Irish Bastard?!" I exclaimed, my voice getting higher by the second. Javier placed his hands on mine to keep me from jumping ten feet in the air.
"Yes. Now, come on. We're already late." Javier told me and I smiled, jumping up on Black Rose.
"Then let's go!"
Javier, Kieran, Raine and I rode down to Clemens Point. We passed Rhodes along the way, maybe I can pick up some stuff for Kieran and Raine. When we arrived, most of everything was done. Javier and I set our tents up real quick, and I organized my stuff. I then heard the squabble of Uncle Pearson and Sadie.
"What is wrong with you two!?" MY Dads voice caught my attention and I walked over towards them, Sadie slamming a knife on the table.
"I ain't chopping vegetables for a living!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am. Was there insufficient feathers in your pillow?" Dad asked and I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
"Dad, come on." I told him, crossing my arms.
"I ain't lazy, Mr. Morgan! I'll work, but not this!"
"Ain't cooking work?!" Dad exclaimed, as Sadie pushed Uncle Pearson out of the way, crossing her arms, looking distraught.
"Mrs. Adler?" I asked, hand on her shoulder. She sighed and turned to face the three of us.
"My husband and I, we shared the work. All of it. I was out in the fields, I can hunt, carry a knife, or use a gun. But I tell you… You keep me here; I'll skin this fat old coot and serve him for dinner!"
"Watch your mouth you crazy goddamn fishwife!" Too far! Sadie lunged at Pearson, but Dad pushed her back, lightly.
"Enough! Both of you! come with me then! You wanna head out there? Run with the men? So be it. But we do more than just hunting…. We're hunted. And them things hunting us, well they have guns of their own."
"I ain't afraid of dying." I smiled at Sadie's comment. She's brave. And strong. After all she went through…. They killed her Jakey. They forced her against her will. They locked her in a cellar. They raped her. And they tortured her. But she told me, she never begged. Neither did Jake….. And they paid for it. Roughly.
Dad agreed that Sadie and I would go into town. I needed to stop by the store and pick up some stuff for Kieran and Raine anyways. Black Rose and I rode ahead of them, wanting to get a good look at Rhodes first.
Not much bigger than Valentine, but it's quaint. A general store, gunsmith, saloon, police station, butcher. The general lot.
Dad and Sadie arrived a few minutes later in the wagon, pulling up beside the General Store. I tied up Black Rose to a nearby hitching post.
"So, what's the plan," Sadie pulled out a handgun. "I shoot the shopkeeper while you—"
"No! you insane?!" Dad jumped back on the wagon, quickly hiding Sadie's gun.
"What? I thought we was outlaws!" Sadie smirked, pulling the gun back out.
"Outlaws….. Not idiots. We rob fools who rob other people. These people, they're just trying to get by. So you and Katherine head on in there and get us some food to eat. And no guns." Dad lowered her gun again and they got off the wagon.
"Are you sure?" Sadie asked, almost disappointed.
"This time. They'll be time for killing soon enough." Dad told her, walked over to the post office.
"As opposed to last time?" I asked, arms crossed.
"Watch it, Katherine." Dad told me, before he reached out of hearing range.
"Your Dad is no fun." Sadie told me and I rolled my eyes.
"Tell me about it. He needs to let loose every once in a while." I answered, crossing my arms. Maybe…. Sadie could help out with that.
No.
Sadie lost her husband.
My Father is seeing Mary Linton, as far as I know.
It could never work out.
Sadie and I walked into the store, and the owner welcomed us.
"How can I help you two?"
"We need flour, potatoes, carrots, onions, oats, salt, eggs, and apples if you got 'em."
"Sure. Not a problem. And how about you, little ma'am?" He asked me and I glared at him.
"Call me that again and you'll be the one that needs help." I warned him and he nodded slowly, backing off.
I looked in the clothing section and found some clothes for the Duffy siblings. A men's hat, nice brown jacket, a nicer shirt, new jeans and boots for Kieran. A girl's western hat, deep red jacket, a brown shirt, new jeans and boots for Raine.
Then I went into the book section. I found some starter books for learning how to read, good for starting them out.
After I was finished, I gave the man my money and loaded everything into my saddle bags.
"And, I think that's everything." The owner said, loading a bag of bread onto the wagon.
"Thanks. Here," She flipped him a quarter. "Take that for yourself, okay?"
"Thanks…" He said, sarcastically.
"Well, give it back then! Jesus!" Sadie cursed under her breath and I smiled, entertained.
"I see you back at home!" I kicked Black Rose on, and we ran home.
I hitched her and unloaded my stuff. I found Kieran and Raine by a big tree, them exchanging conversation.
"Hey bro! Sis!" I exclaimed, standing in front of them. Kieran and Raine smiled, them looking at me.
"Okay, I'll bite. What's all this?" Kieran asked and I grinned.
"I come bearing gifts!" I exclaimed, dumping everything on top of them, earning laughter out of them.
"Clothes? You didn't have to do that." Kieran told me as I sat next to him.
"Yes, I did. Those clothes are worn, dirty and they don't look very comfortable. So, I bought these for you. And some books!" I held up one of the books and he smiled.
"One day, we will pay you back." He told me and I shook my head.
"No need. I don't need to be payed back. You're paying me back by being alive." I told them and they smiled. Raine hugged me and I picked her up a few feet off the ground.
"You're the best sister I've ever had." Raine told me and my eyes slightly filled with tears.
I never knew I could be someone's older sister. And help them live, help them survive. I'm not going to screw this up. She won't be another Isaac. I'll make sure of that.
"Hello, lassie! Did you miss your favorite Uncle?" I turned around to see a familiar redhead I screamed and ran towards him.
"UNCLE SEAN!" I jumped in his arms and he hugged me back. "I missed you so much!"
"Me too, lassie. Me too." He hugged me back and I smiled. Our family is complete again.
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