Apr 20
Who up misting they born
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Who up misting they born
Birgit Jürgenssen
Elevin, 1993
Vintage black and white photograph, tutu, golden shoes
Elend: I'm a nerd, I've never fit in. If we'd met in high school, you wouldn't even have noticed me.
Vin: That's just because I didn't go to class. I wouldn't have seen you.
“Hum,” Vin said, realizing that she should probably be a bit more intimidated than she felt. “He was a bit annoying—in a pleasant sort of way.”
I ship it.
Definition of death glare.
Some pre-Elevin fic, because I wanted some. Have these children being mutually supportive and spending bonding time.
The more lunches she and Kevin took together, the more Elena appreciated them. Their little chats before their appointments were nice, she could only hope they did as much to make all this feel normal to him as they did for her, but spending an hour with a therapist could be exhausting and it was nice to have an excuse to allot time to recover. Especially when that time involved good food and the company of someone she knew she could trust not to bring up any tearstains or sore topics as long as she returned the favor.
“Oh, fuck, wait you gotta check this out!” Shoving his fries- the ones he’d been dunking in the puddle of wing sauce and blue cheese on her plate- into his mouth, Kevin dug his phone out of his pocket and began searching. “Was outta town this weekend and Zed got to see fireflies for the first time!”
“No!” Elena set down her sandwich and leaned over the table, splitting into a grin as Kevin turned his phone around to reveal video of his dog chasing down and trying to eat the flickering points of light. “Awww!”
“I know, right?! Where does she get off being this cute?”
“I don’t even know.” She fell back into her seat and snatched her food back up. “Pretty sure that’s not legal.” Kevin chuckled as he put his phone away and went to dunk a fried mushroom in the mess on her plate.
“Good thing we don’t really care about that shit then, huh?”
“Thank god, I don’t wanna be known for turning in the world’s cutest dog. Are you enjoying my lunch?” He blew a raspberry at her and she snickered at it.
“Listen,” he said, “do you know what it takes to get buffalo-blue cheese anything that doesn’t include meat around here? Let me live.” Elena hummed around her sandwich like she was actually thinking about it, looking off to the side as she chewed.
“Alright,” she swallowed and said, “this time I’ll let you live. But only because you’re paying.” Snorting laughter, Kevin exchanged a grin with her.
“Remind me to pay more often then, just in case.”
“Oh no,” Elena replied, gently kicking him under the table, “you aren’t that lucky. Fifty-fifty odds, forever.”
“Damn,” Kevin said, snapping his fingers and going in with more fries, “gonna have to ensure my safety some other way.” With another hum, Elena wiped her chin and relaxed against the back of her chair.
“Pretty sure a constant supply of those stuffed breads you made would be your best bet.” To that, Kevin raised his glass with a chuckle.
“Eternal stuffed bread it is then. Any specific fillings I should be making?” For a moment Elena contemplated that, honestly contemplated it.
“Give me your email,” she finally said, raising her own beer, “and I’ll send you some recipes to try out.” Kevin’s grin widened, and he clinked his glass against hers.
“It’s a deal.”
Demogorgon in an eleven dress. A simple concept.
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