Bro Strider (
plushaeusrumpified) wrote in
thecapitol2015-04-07 01:30 am
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Entry tags:
crunch crunch crunch
Who| Bro Strider and anyone in the kitchens
What| Bro makes delicious desserts
Where| The kitchens
When| Mid-evening, a couple of days after the crowning
Warnings/Notes|
Sometimes a man just needs to bake. Sure he could just buy cupcakes from somewhere, but that just doesn't compare to the deliciousness of making your own damn cupcakes. He isn't actually a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but after farting around long enough and mixing up an unholy combination of eggs and flour, he's pretty sure he's gotten down the basics of cupcakes. He has the batter and he has the cupcake tin, what more does he need?
As it turns out, and as he realizes after he's taken his cupcakes out of the oven (which are, surprisingly, not terrible looking, if a little dry and lumpy), you do need something more than just that. You need goddamn frosting.
"Shit." It's a frustrated sigh after scouring the kitchen to see if he can find any frosting at all- he can't.
It's only then that his eyes come to rest on the bag of doritos (or the Capitol equivalent at least) he'd bought along with the baking supplies earlier. He stares at it, contemplating it with the same intensity as someone who's deeply contemplating their life choices. Then he shrugs, because this is actually way better than frosting could be.
Bro tears open the bag of doritos, promptly dumping them on the kitchen counter, before he starts to aggressively bash them with his fist to break them up into little crumbs. He could just squeeze them all, but if people can tenderize their meat then he can tenderize his goddamn doritos, right?
The noises are quite loud, and anyone happening upon him will see him standing at the counter with his frosting free cupcakes and him pounding his doritos as if his life depends on it.
What| Bro makes delicious desserts
Where| The kitchens
When| Mid-evening, a couple of days after the crowning
Warnings/Notes|
Sometimes a man just needs to bake. Sure he could just buy cupcakes from somewhere, but that just doesn't compare to the deliciousness of making your own damn cupcakes. He isn't actually a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but after farting around long enough and mixing up an unholy combination of eggs and flour, he's pretty sure he's gotten down the basics of cupcakes. He has the batter and he has the cupcake tin, what more does he need?
As it turns out, and as he realizes after he's taken his cupcakes out of the oven (which are, surprisingly, not terrible looking, if a little dry and lumpy), you do need something more than just that. You need goddamn frosting.
"Shit." It's a frustrated sigh after scouring the kitchen to see if he can find any frosting at all- he can't.
It's only then that his eyes come to rest on the bag of doritos (or the Capitol equivalent at least) he'd bought along with the baking supplies earlier. He stares at it, contemplating it with the same intensity as someone who's deeply contemplating their life choices. Then he shrugs, because this is actually way better than frosting could be.
Bro tears open the bag of doritos, promptly dumping them on the kitchen counter, before he starts to aggressively bash them with his fist to break them up into little crumbs. He could just squeeze them all, but if people can tenderize their meat then he can tenderize his goddamn doritos, right?
The noises are quite loud, and anyone happening upon him will see him standing at the counter with his frosting free cupcakes and him pounding his doritos as if his life depends on it.
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What's happening, it turns out, is Bro smashing those weird, cheesy Earth chips. On the counter, no less. It takes him a little longer to spot the cupcakes, but lumpy baked goods don't explain the chip massacre. He'd sooner guess them to be savory muffins than cupcakes with that set before him, but it still doesn't tell him much.
So he does the smart thing where people use their mouths and asks, "What the hell are you doing?"
He keeps himself a few steps back from the crime in progress, namely because he doesn't want dorito crumbs on his shirt.
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"Baking," he says over the drum of his fist. "So either get the fuck out of Bro's kitchen or help me." He shoves a handful of the doritos across the counter in Karkat's direction before going baco to the thump, thump, thump of dorito crushing.
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"Oh, no, I am not joining your mistaken venture to commit atrocities against food and sapient creatures alike. Why are you trying to put crunch cheese garbage in your baking? And why like this? You're getting shit everywhere; you've probably lost half as much as you've pounded into the innocent counter top."
He scoots over a few steps and pokes, doubt written on his face, at the handful of doritos. "You realize this is not actually your kitchen? That other people are going to have to deal with this?"
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"Are you finished?" he asks, when Karkat finally stops talking. "You're so fuckin' tiny, I don't understand how you get enough air in your lungs to go on for so damn long. Christ." He picks up an uncrushed dorito and flicks it at Karkat's face. "Anyway, do I look like I give a flying fricklefrack whether or not this is my kitchen? I do what I want."
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"I will have exactly as much air in my alien aeration sacks as I please," he snaps, as if it's worth argument. "And I'll have you know there's at least one person here shorter than I am, and not my a small degree." He holds his hand out at roughly the height of one Samwise Gamgee. His face is very serious.
"Besides which, you're still making a mess. Did you never stop to consider some way of containing that shit? Or are you just going to sweep it all onto... whatever you're trying to make without a care for neatness or anything?"
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Or, well, he was baking. Now he's just...crushing things.
Anna leans against the doorway, arms crossing, a little smile on her mouth, and clears her throat to get his attention.
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"Oh, hey," he says, stopping the crushing momentarily to lean forward, resting his chin on his (dorito covered) hand in a charming manner. "I didn't see you there. Welcome to Bro's Kitchen."
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She comes closer, palms flat on the counter, staring at him with sudden intensity. "I hope you were planning on sharing."
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"I-" He stops, because it's Anna and of course he has to say yes. "I sure as shit was. But don't touch 'em. They ain't finished yet!"
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She hops up to perch on the counter, inhaling deeply of the sweet scent of baked chocolatey goodness, legs swinging over the edge. "I hope you weren't going to put them on the cupcakes."
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Welp.
"Of course I was," he says, a touch indignantly. "Why else would I crush up perfectly delicious doritos? These babies are my frosting."
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She hops down from the counter, determined now. "I can't let you do this, I'm sorry. I'm going to make frosting and we are going to eat those cupcakes the right way." Anna marches toward the pantry, pulling out cocoa powder, powdered sugar, and vanilla extract. From the fridge, she pulls out butter and milk, and then rummages around in another cupboard for a big bowl, a measuring cup, and a whisk. "This could have been a fatal error, you know. You could have died."
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But he had his mouth set on cupcakes and doritos. It's hard to pull away from that.
"Really- died?" He lets out a snort, almost sounding... proud, as he continues, "You've been spending too much time around me, goddamn. I didn't think you could get so dramatic."
He moves in front of her, stopping her in her tracks as she moves. "Hold up, hold up- I did not crush those doritos for nothing. Do you know what it's like to have a craving? Because now I'm craving dorito cakes. Do you really wanna deprive me of this, babe?"
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The princess doesn't realize that he's stepping in front of her until he does it, and she yelps, bumping into his chest face-first with an armful of mixing bowl. "Hey--okay, okay, calm down. Here's an idea: we'll make the frosting, and then maybe we can put your Doritos on top! Like sprinkles!" The more she thinks about it, the more she thinks it might actually taste pretty good, too. "I would never deprive you," she assures him, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek before stepping around him to dump her bowl on the counter. "Now, pass me that cocoa powder."
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Except on some level, he can't help but think about how real fucking domestic this seems, like they're... a normal couple? What the fuck is that? In between murder arenas, they've managed to find a little niche where they can be happy. It almost feels surreal.
This time it isn't for cameras when his face scrunches up as her lips press a kiss to his cheek, and he lets out a sigh. "Oh, fine. Fine, fine, fine. We'll do it your way, princess." He sounds so exasperated, and as he moves over to grab the powder, he grumbles a little under his breath- something about coocoo, something about cocoa puffs, it's not really intelligible. "Here's your powder," he says, extending it her way before bringing his hand up to lick his palm. "Mmm."
Dorito powder is better than cocoa powder and he's got it all over his hands.
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"You're gross," she informs him blithely as she starts to blend the two. Maybe that's what she likes about him. Who knows.
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He contemplates for a moment, then visibly turns his head to look at his hand, then back to her, as if deliberating something. Then, he reaches out and runs the palm of his hand across her cheek. "Now you are too."
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Only on the way she decides that instead of attacking him, she wants to kiss him instead, and tangles her arms around his shoulders instead of a tickle attack like she'd originally intended.
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He stops as Anna finishes wiping at her cheek and starts to come at him. There are few things scarier than a woman looking for revenge, so he starts to back up. Only, it's not what he's expecting at all. Instead of whatever it is that she might've been doing, she's wrapping her shoulders around him and kissing him right on the mouth.
His arms wrap around her instinctively, moving down to hitch her legs up and around him so he can pick her up. He grunts against her lips, surprised in the most pleasant way. This is much better than revenge, this is definitely something he can get behind.
Bro turns, stepping towards the counter so that he can set her on it, melting against her as his hands slide up and down her back lazily.
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She sighs against his lips, letting her legs tighten around his waist, exacting her revenge by kissing him until he can't breathe. That's punishment enough, right?
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One is air.
The other is because he doesn't want to get too into it and not want to stop.
So, he pulls away, breathless as can be, his cheeks flushed red and he steps away, leaving her to sit on the counter top. "Well that happened." His voice is a little amused.
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She blinks, laughing, breathless, fingers pressed to her lips, and looks a little sheepish. "Yeah, it did," she replies, making herself summon something like a scolding tone. "Don't you ever do that again."
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Quick as lightning, a dorito encrusted hand shoots out and grabs Gary's wrist as the sound of banging cuts off abruptly. "I fuckin' know you ain't trying to jack my cupcakes, dude."
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"--Of course! Damn, who does that?" He offers a wide, sheepish grin. "Like, taking a whole cupcake, that would've been a dick move. No one's gonna miss a couple crumbs though. Or, like, a nibble. Just a little one. You know? I was gonna give it back."