#honey on tumblr is all regal talking
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the-ancient-texts · 4 years ago
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well, at least its not distruction darling.
isnt anything better :)
Hmm, feeling bored. Anyone wanna talk?
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lilyvandersteen · 4 years ago
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The Christmas Guest Chapter 4
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Author’s Note:
Thanks to @redheadgleek​‘s Write a Little Every Day project, this chapter is done much earlier than I’d hoped, yay! Enjoy the snowball fight, and Blaine realising that (HUGE SPOILER) he might actually like Kurt for real. Who’d have thought, huh?
Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.
Chapter 4: Sweet Surrender
In spite of his nocturnal trip, Blaine woke up early, and decided to dress and get downstairs to see if Kurt needed something.
When he arrived in the living room, Kurt was sleeping peacefully. The snoring had stopped, and when Blaine checked his forehead, he was glad to find the fever had subsided too.
“Good, you must be feeling better already,” Blaine murmured, grabbing the blanket that had fallen off Kurt and tucking him in again carefully. “I’m going to let you sleep a little longer.”
As he tiptoed out of the room, he was greeted by Carole.
“Morning, Blaine! You’re up early!”
Blaine smiled at her. “Good morning, Carole. Yes, I’m an early bird. Always have been.”
“Best let the others sleep another while, or they’ll be grumpy. Come to the kitchen, we can make a nice breakfast for everyone.”
Burt came downstairs as soon as the smell of bacon started to spread.
“Bacon!”
Carole shook her head at him. “Not for you. We don’t want you to have another heart attack.”
“Just one rasher? It’s Christmas!”
“In two days.”
“Oh, come on! Please?”
Carole gave in. “All right. One rasher. But then I don’t want to hear any more complaints about the healthy food I’m serving you the rest of the week. Deal?”
Burt sighed. “Okay, okay.”
Carole winked at Blaine, who suppressed a snigger and busied himself with setting the table.
When he had nearly finished his plate, he heard a groan coming from the living room.
“Ah, Kurt is waking up!” Carole said. “I’ll make him some eggs too.”
“I’ll go see if he’s okay,” said Blaine.
He arrived just in time to keep Kurt from face-planting, and escorted him first to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.
After pouring Kurt a mug of tea and adding a generous spoonful of honey, Blaine sat down again to finish his own breakfast, smiling at how out of it Kurt still seemed. He didn’t seem to be sniffling or coughing anymore, though. That was good.
They made cookies after breakfast, and it made Blaine’s feeling as if he’d stumbled headfirst into a Hallmark Christmas movie even stronger. Kurt was clearly an experienced baker, whipping up two kinds of dough in no time, and letting Blaine eat the scraps.
Then Kurt’s stepbrother Finn arrived, all six feet plus of him, his size and demeanor reminding Blaine of the jocks who’d bashed him into hospital before he transferred to Dalton Academy, and he shrank into a corner until Carole introduced him to Finn and he got a smile and a hug from the gentle giant, who seemed genuinely pleased to meet him.
By the time they had all decorated the tree together, Blaine’s worries had evaporated, and he enthusiastically agreed to a snowball fight in the garden.
He and Finn were having so much fun goofing off that it took some time for them to notice that Kurt had joined them.
Unlike them, Kurt hadn’t chosen to just grab some snow, pack it together and throw it. No. Kurt had chosen stealth and strategy. He’d built a shield he could hide behind, he’d made towering stacks of snowballs and had even fashioned some kind of sling to be able to throw the snowballs further.
He also had deadly aim. His first snowball hit Finn straight in the chest, with so much force that he almost fell over.
“Uh oh,” Finn said. “Okay, man, we’re going to have to team up, or we’re toast.”
The two of them hid behind trees, but every time they ventured forth from their hiding place, they were pelted by such an onslaught of snowballs that they couldn’t get round to launching an attack of their own.
It took Kurt only ten minutes of this to wear them down. By then, their coats and trousers were white with snow and pretty much soaked through.
“Aw, man, this isn’t fun anymore!” Finn complained. “Kurt, why do you always take these games so seriously?”
Kurt appeared from behind his snow shield, his clothes as good as pristine, his stance regal and his eyes blazing with determination. Though Blaine had suffered just as much as Finn and was just as ready to give up the fight, he thrilled to this version of Kurt, who looked magnificent. It lit a flame somewhere within and made him forget all about his freezing fingers and toes.
“Do you surrender?” Kurt asked, his chin up and his back rigidly straight.
And ugh, the steel in his voice made the fire inside Blaine burn even brighter.
Finn shrugged. “I guess. I’m going back in.”
“I surrender,” Blaine answered, not entirely capable of keeping a quiver out of his voice.
Something sparked into Kurt’s eyes, and he started coming towards Blaine without looking away even once, but a mere two foot from him, he seemed to change his mind and veered off towards the house. “Let’s get inside, Carole is going to make us hot chocolate.”
Blaine felt himself deflate. What had he expected to happen, exactly? Why was he all a-tingle like this? And what was this strange energy between him and Kurt?
A sudden gust of wind made him shiver and hurry to the back door. Hot chocolate sounded heavenly.
When Blaine came in, Finn was complaining again, this time about the seating arrangements in the living room. As victor of the snowball fight, Kurt had claimed the big sofa for himself and Blaine, and forbade Finn to squish in too.
“You can take the loveseat,” Kurt said.
“That one’s hard as a rock!”
“Sit on the floor for all I care. The sofa is ours! Come, Blaine! I’ve got your hot chocolate right here. That will warm you up.”
Blaine accepted the mug gratefully, holding it with both hands to get his fingers warm again, and drinking deeply.
Ah, that’s better!
Finn stomped out of the room in high dudgeon to go complain to his mom, but Carole agreed with Kurt.
Blaine saw Kurt grin in satisfaction, and the grin only widened when Finn came back in and found fault with his film choice too.
“Seriously, man? I wanted to watch Die Hard!”
“I won the fight, so it’s my pick.”
“Burt, back me up on this, come on!”
Burt looked up from his newspaper. “We can watch Die Hard tomorrow.”
Kurt added, “Now stop being a baby about this. Either shut up and watch, or go do something else.”
Finn looked mutinous, but plonked down on the loveseat and shut up.
Kurt hummed along with the opening music and pulled Blaine a little closer still. His arm around Blaine’s middle felt both possessive and grounding. Blaine felt the spark from before rekindling, a jittery feeling that made him want to… What? He didn’t even know, but he wanted. Oh, he wanted!  
“What is it?” Kurt murmured. “Are you uncomfortable like this?”
“No, no.”
Blaine wiggled until his head fit exactly into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and then let himself sink into Kurt’s embrace. “Perfect.”
He felt a laugh rumble through him, and Kurt’s hold tightened infinitesimally.
“Good,” Kurt whispered, and softly kissed the crown of his head.
Blaine felt his lips stretch from ear to ear and closed his eyes to bask in the feeling of utter contentment that washed over him.
He couldn’t imagine anything that could ruin the moment now.
Of course, that was because he forgot about Finn.
“Mom, I’m hungry! Can I have some more cookies?”
“You already ate them all, hun!”
“So when’s supper?”
“After the movie.”
“But I’m hungry!”
Finn disappeared to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath, probably to search the pantry for snacks to tide him over until supper.
“Want a chocolate chip cookie?” Kurt asked Blaine softly, holding out a cookie tin and looking very smug.
Blaine burst out laughing. “Is this still payback for Finn putting snow down your shirt?”
“You know it! Also, I wanted to save some cookies for us. Finn ate all the shortbread and the last of the sugar cookies before we even got a chance to have some. Greedy pig!”
Blaine took a cookie and savoured it. “These are the absolute best.”
“Mmm.”
However lovely it was to cuddle up with Kurt, Blaine became uncomfortable after a while because his wet trousers felt cold and clammy and seeped all the heat out of his legs.
“I’m going to put some other pants on,” he whispered to Kurt. “I’ll be right back.”
That promise fell into the water when Cooper called him while he was in Kurt’s room, blathering on and on about all the fancy parties he’d been to and would still be going to.
It took nearly an hour for Coop to stop talking about himself and to ask what Blaine was doing for Christmas.
“I’m in Ohio,” said Blaine.
“But Mom and Dad are on a cruise!”
“Yep. Thanks for telling me about that, by the way. How long have you known?”
“Oh, they told me this summer, I think.”
“Lovely.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Nope. Flew out here for nothing.”
Cooper whistled low. “That sucks. So you’re all alone for Christmas?”
“No, actually, I’m not.”
There was silence at Cooper’s end. Then he asked, “So… You’re saying you’ve been hooking up with Sebastian again?”
“What? No! Ugh. Coop, please. As if! He cheated on me!”
“So who’s with you, then?”
“Kurt. I’m staying with his family.”
For the second time, his reply managed to silence Cooper.
“My boyfriend, Kurt, remember?”
“Um, no?! Now who’s forgotten to tell their brother something?”
Blaine laughed. “Well, it’s recent, so that will be why. I probably haven’t called you yet since we became an item.”
“So… Tell me about him.”
That was all the prompting Blaine needed to start singing Kurt’s praises, and it wasn’t until he’d rung off that he realized two things.
One: he’d referred to Kurt as his boyfriend without even thinking about it, whereas they were only faking a relationship. He’d regret that later, since Coop would tell their mom for sure, and he’d have to hear about it for years.
Two: he desperately wished they could be boyfriends for real. Somehow, in what the Warblers would call a classic Blaine move, he’d fallen for Kurt. Hard. And in a matter of days. There was no way this was going to end well. He was so screwed.
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itsclydebitches · 8 years ago
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Summary:
Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn't have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It's enough to make even her seasoned head spin.
...which doesn't even include the chance to play at 'Mother' once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?
(DIRECT SEQUEL TO "ROCK THE CRADLE")
Fandom: Jupiter Ascending 
Words: 9,779 so far 
Warnings: Will eventually mention previous neglect/abuse of children
Pairings: Jupiter/Caine 
Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting) 
Chapter Six
“This went from ‘kind of cool’ to ‘seriously annoying’... oh, twenty minutes ago?”
Jupiter irritatingly swatted at another cloud of bees (careful not to actually hurt them) as they made a desperate dive to try and burrow into her hair. Another batch was settling in all the crooks of her body (collarbone, beneath her chin, in the hollow of the backs of her knees), while still others seemed to seek actual skin contact, bypassing her already covered arms and legs to flit up beneath her shirt. Jupiter grit her teeth at the feeling of foreign bodies crawling everything, stupidly glad that her skinny jeans didn’t allow them to burrow anywhere else.
“Enough of you,” Caine growled, mimicking her swat with a lot less patience. Jupiter caught his hand and brought it into her lap instead.
“It’s fine,” and no sooner had she sighed it than the bees were back, landing wherever they could and taking whatever she was willing to give. Jupiter wondered if she looked somehow regal like this—or if she was just a cheap monster out of some low-budget horror flick.
Kiza’s expression suggested the latter. Her phone click-click-clicked as it took a million, horrible photos. No way was she buying her a better phone. This girl did not need more storage space.
Jupiter thought about pointing out the obvious though, that there was no photo album to fill anymore. Or there was, but it was gone, and she doubted Balem wanted her to send updates. The mere thought of him painstakingly adding pages to the back of the book and gluing in new photos was so ridiculous it had Jupiter releasing a slightly hysterical laugh.
Kiza slowly lowered her phone. “You okay?”
“Not really.”
“Yeah. Yeah I feel that.”
The whole party was largely off kilter and a massive swarm of bees invading the living room was only part of the problem. Jupiter was high-strung of course, and Caine had a tendency to follow her in all things, even emotions. Same with Kiza and Stinger now that she thought about it, some hereditary loyalty rising to the surface as they honed in on their queen, and okay, shit, was everyone in a bad mood just because she was?
Three pairs of eyes stared at her intently. Huh. Maybe “I feel that” was less a common phrase and more a literal expression of truth. Jupiter mustered up a smile.
“Whoooo’s gonna explain what’s going oooon?” she sang.
Stinger sighed, throwing up his hands. He obviously needed to do something with them though, and without a weapon to point at a concrete enemy he just ended up fiddling with everything in reach: the throw draped across the couch Jupiter sat on, the edge of his shirt, a pencil he’d stuck haphazardly behind his ear. In the end Stinger settled on pouring her another cup of coffee even though Jupiter had barely touched the first.
That done he spread his arms. Whole strings of bees followed the movement.
“You’re more equipped to answer that than I am, Your Majesty. You say you were visited by a fox splice?”
Caine nodded. “One sent by Kalique. You think there’s a connection?”
Kiza snorted. “Between her suddenly changing the game and an attack on our house? Absolutely. Though what the hell would she want with our honey?”
“Nothing,” but Stinger’s hands made fists just thinking about it. “She has the resources to pull off a theft like that of course, she could hire any group she’d like, but why the hell would she want to? There’s no commercial value to it—at least not compared to her own vast wealth—and as for personal reasons...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It makes no sense.”
Jupiter scoffed. “When has anything involving Kalique ever made sense?”
“The fact that she’s actually the most logical and methodical of the three is kinda sad. And by ‘sad’ I mean hilarious.” Kiza dodged Jupiter’s whack to the head.
“You didn’t hear anything?” she pressed. “Earlier?”
“Nope. Slept in, did my chores, went to do more chores outside—” Kiza sent a nasty glare her dad’s way. Stinger challenged it stiffly—”finally got to the hives out back, called you, and discovered... that.” ‘That’ was clearly the missing honey, though Kiza made the absence sound like a foul addition instead. Like an enemy. Or no, something that grew. A cancer.
Jupiter felt Caine shifting on the couch beside her. She gave his hand another squeeze and was relieved to feel him doing the same.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “I promise. And not to make light of that situation, but...can we focus on one emergency at a time?”
“Dinner,” Caine said solemnly.
“Politics,” Stinger countered.
“Food,” Kiza finished. “Wasted. Which I am very happy to eat for you anyway.”
“You’re welcome to the steaks,” Jupiter sighed, like she didn’t already know that Kiza had squirreled them away for a late night snack sometime. The girl’s appetite was easily the most alien thing about her. “You’ll all come then?”
Stinger’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Don’t be foolish, Your Majesty. Where you go, we follow.”
She actually wanted to say something appropriately thankful in response, but the movement was—once again—ruined by a flash from Kiza and an exaggerated “Awww.” She raised her phone in the air as Jupiter rubbed at her eyes.
“I like this one,” Kiza announced.
“Good for you,” Stinger said. “Caine. With me. I won’t be going into another Entitled’s lair blind. Not again. Kiza? Entertain your Queen.”
“Sir, yes sir,” she said and as the two boys went off to discuss super cool space weaponry she threw herself onto the couch beside Jupiter. A massive cloud of bees rose up like a wave.
Jupiter carefully extracted a bee that had gotten caught in the belt loop of her jeans. “Can you make them go away?”
“I’ve tried.” Kiza actually sounded apologetic about it. “They’re really... just...” she blew out a slow breath. “They need this right now.”
“...and so do you,” Jupiter said, realizing the words were true as soon as she’d said them. Kiza was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with Jupiter, much like how the bees themselves were seeking her touch. If Jupiter focused, she could feel the lightest tremble running through Kiza’s body. She lifted an arm and settled it around Kiza’s back. The younger girl nestled there, vulnerable.
“It probably seems stupid to you,” she muttered, face now pressed into the fabric of Jupiter’s shirt. “Just honey, yeah? Got plenty of that. And sure, sure the bees themselves are fine, which is the important thing, but... it’s an invasion, you know? Someone was here. In our home. They took something that didn’t belong to them!” Kiza was trembling harder now and it had little to do with disquiet. “Ugh. I sound like dad. I know he’s super mad too, even if he’s better at controlling it. I’m a second generation splice. I love our bees, alright? But even I’m not connected to the spirit like he is.”
Jupiter’s fingers had found their way into Kiza’s hair. She paused there before resuming her slow, soothing movements. “Spirit?”
Kiza hummed. “It’s not really a religion, like you have here on Earth. You gotta remember its all tied up in our biology too. It’s more that we understand all the layers.”
“Like onions,” Jupiter intoned and was relieved when Kiza shoved her lightly.
“Don’t quote Shrek at me. But yes, layers. Or—or connections. Like how one bee isn’t just a bee. They’re part of a hive, an ecosystem; they’re connected to you and to me. It’s the same with honey. It’s not just a food source, it’s something they made. It’s exploration and life and they always create more than they need so we can have some too and—” Kiza drew in a massive breath. “It’s just important, okay?”
“Okay,” Jupiter agreed. She sometimes forgot just how young Kiza was, not only compared to her but their group at large, everyone either in a genetically enhanced middle age or outright ancient. Kiza was the little sister Jupiter had never, but who she was thrilled to have now that she was here.
She also felt a little like a daughter.
Jupiter twisted her earring.
“Good talk,” she said, because Jupiter was nothing if not awkward when it came to heart-to-hearts. There was a little part of her mind that whispered, ‘I love dogs’ and she firmly stuffed it into the deepest, darkest pit she could conjure up. “So… whatcha got there?”
Still curled against Jupiter, Kiza had her phone out again, though for once it wasn’t pointing and clicking. It looked like she was online, though what website needed such a violently blue background, Jupiter didn’t know. She shooed a bunch of bees out of the way to get a better view. Kiza helped by tilting the screen.
“Tumblr,” she said, like that explained anything at all.
“Tumbling?”
“Tumblr. Don’t you ever waste your life online?”
Jupiter considered. “Yes, but you’re talking to the girl who grew up in a poor, super large family that always monopolized the one desktop. Also, excuse you, but I’ve been busy. Saving the world? Or did you forget?”
To Jupiter’s horror, an unexpectedly evil grin stretched across Kiza’s face. “Oh, I didn’t forget, Your Majesty. I documented it.”
“You—wait what?”
Over the next mind-boggling ten minutes Jupiter got a crash course in current social media, complete with the distinction between those parts of the website that humans had access too, and the sprawling, galaxy-wide network that catered to everyone else. Scrolling through pictures, news articles, and GIFs of funny cats was one thing, finding out that Kiza had been blogging about Queen Jupiter on the equivalent of Space Facebook was something else.
“You’ve made me kind of famous,” Kiza said, sounding infuriatingly smug about it. “My follower count skyrocketed when I started posting these pics. I mean sure, we get the stupid anon or two, but pretty much everyone else is supportive. They want to know you, Your Majesty. It’s the classic rags to riches story, plus you’re the first Entitled in, what? Ever, who isn’t a dick? You should totally start your own blog. Provided I help, of course.”
“Oh my god,” Jupiter whispered. Her finger felt numb as she scrolled through an endless stream of stories, questions, and, yes, pictures of her. Most of them were candid, shot when Jupiter had been otherwise engaged. There was one of her upside down on her bed upstairs, a half-piece of toast dangling from her mouth. She couldn’t even remember when she’d done that, let alone how Kiza could have gotten a pic without her noticing. The ones of her and Caine were particularly popular, at least according to the number of ‘notes’ each one had. Jupiter was torn between flattered and mortally embarrassed.
She scrolled down further and found a picture of her holding Balem. Jupiter snapped her hand back.
“You’d be good at it too,” Kiza was saying, oblivious. “You’re pretty, famous, and rich, the trifecta for getting a good following. Plus half of what you say is basically shit-posting, so.”
“Kiza—”
“I can—”
Whoom.
Too late for talk: at that moment a massive crash sounded from somewhere outside; too short to be an earthquake, not quite large enough for an explosion. Still, it knocked Kiza back into Jupiter’s shoulder, the both of them slipping halfway off the couch and their cloud of bees scattering with worry. The two filled coffee cups splattered onto the carpet. The throw fell down across their backs. Jupiter ended up jarring her hip and watched as Caine and Stinger store sideways into the room.
What now? was her first and completely justified thought.
Jupiter pushed up quickly, righting the boys in her vision. They looked ready to take on a whole army together. Which tended to happen when you carried whole armloads of weapons into the room.
“What the fuck?” Stinger growled. He’d already hefted something large and glowing blue over his shoulder, marching towards the door. Caine stopped only long enough to pull Jupiter to her feet.
“My thoughts exactly,” she grimaced.
“You’re okay?”
“Fine, fine. Do we know what—?”
Whoom! Again, but closer and with a bit more... solidity. This time Jupiter felt the foundations of the house shake.
“Oh, but it’s never boring with you, Your Majesty,” Kiza breathed. Jupiter watched with a mixture of disbelief and respect as she began composing a new post.
“We’re talking about this later,” she said and grabbed them both by the arm.
Careful of what they might find, Jupiter, Caine, and Kiza followed Stinger out of the house.
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