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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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SO. Back to the beginning, Episode 1 of Word of Honor. This is likely to be a little bit different experience than the prior posts, when I was watching the eps as they aired, compared to now approaching the show as whole and complete. May be rummaging around for things I missed the first time through, stuff that takes on new meaning set in additional context – we’ll see how it goes.

With that in mind, spoilers for not just this ep but possibly for the entire series. Get out of the car now and come back later, if you haven’t seen all 36.5 eps and want to watch it unspoiled.

First thing to strike me, right up front: You know, I think we tend to lose sight in later parts of the show – when we’re getting Laopo!Zhou Zishu pouting so he doesn’t have to cook dinner - how terrifying ZZS is in his own right (and by “we,” I actually mean the show, too). One of the things the first few episodes gets right, I think, is the sense of eerie inevitability and dread created by both the falling lanterns of Tian Chuang and the blowing paper figures of the Ghost Valley, and how similar they are. I think it’s easy to lose that - when the lanterns and the paper figures are gone and our charming and adorable couple are busy being charming and adorable at each other, in between varying rounds of being wracked by guilt and PTSD – easy to lose that this is there too, part of them – both of them - under the skin. I think it’s particularly easy to lose that for ZZS, when he’s already done a lot of work, off-screen, pre-Episode 1, during the 18 months he was putting in those first six Nails, to come to some kind of equilibrium, and meanwhile we watch Wen Kexing’s entire torturous process play out on-screen. Wen Kexing’s story is one of reaching an equilibrium, but Zhou Zishu’s story is one of maintaining it, which I think may be less showy, but is equally valuable, just as I value the Four Seasons Manor arc, especially, for giving us a vibe of two adults comfortable in an already intimate relationship, as opposed to the veritable sea of will-they-won’t-they tug-of-war coming-together-for-the-first-time-as-emotional-AND-plot climax relationships that we’re usually awash in.

Anyway, straight up we’re introduced to an assassin who, we discover, doesn’t like to get blood on himself. It looks like metaphorical blood is fine, just not actual blood, but then we discover, well, maybe he’s not as OK with metaphorical blood as he schools himself to look. Also that conversation with Li Jingan about her dad having to die because he’s a traitor to the country – I now wonder how much of that particular conversation Zhou Zishu mentally brings to the table in later conversations about his own father being executed for the same reason. Also, wait wait wait. Zhou Zishu tells Jingan that he took Jiuxiao’s body back to Four Seasons Manor and buried him next to their shifu, but I don’t remember seeing another grave there, other than Qin Huaizhang’s and his wife’s. Script inconsistency, or are you supposed to be lying, ZZS? I mean, would you be so downcast at the state of Four Seasons Manor when you arrive with your husband and son for your honeymoon, if you’d actually been there only a couple of years before? It didn’t fall to pieces overnight. Also, HAIRPIN FORESHADOWING ALERT. Our first sign of how important the hairpin is, the way ZZS’s impassive face cracks wide open when he sees the hairpin that Jiuxiao made and realizes he must have given it to Jingan. Clearly important!

Mmm. Here’s a point for the “Prince Jin is a f’kn asshole” list – Prince Jin wants ZZS to deal with Bi Changfeng personally when Bi Changfeng requests to leave Tian Chuang. And OK, ZZS is the leader of Tian Chuang. But you’re never going to convince me Prince Jin wants ZZS to deal with it personally because Prince Jin is actually so very furious that Bi Changfeng made a mistake. You will never convince me this isn’t a … it’s not even a test of loyalty, at this point, because Prince Jin has no reason to think yet that ZZS is anything other than the faithful hunting dog on a leash that he’s been, lo, these many years. Putting ZZS in a position where not only is he losing the last of the direct disciples of Four Seasons Manor, but he’s being asked to (as good as) kill him with his own hands - it’s just cruelty for the proof of your power and influence over someone. Also, given Prince Jin’s later diatribe about how everyone leaves him OMG (have you considered it’s your personality?) (But also Beiyuan! I know who you are now, and yeah, I would have let Wu Xi bride-kidnap me away from this jerk, too), I have to wonder if Prince Jin isn’t trying to make ZZS feel exactly as isolated as he, himself, feels, as part of his overall desire to make sure that ZZS has no one other than Prince Jin so that their positions are parallel – only having each other in the whole world. I also have to wonder if he’s not hoping for precisely the reaction ZZS has to Bi Changfeng – you’d rather be dead than be with me? Because that hurts, you can see it on ZZS’s face (thanks already, Zhang Zhehan), and I rather suspect Prince Jin wants it to hurt. I notice we get an echo of this later in the ep, with Prince Jin saying pretty much the same thing when ZZS asks for the final Nail. GOOD. I hope it hurts you just as much. I wonder if ZZS realizes this while he’s kneeling there in the throne room. It’s probably too late for him to get any satisfaction out of it.

OH, HEY. That’s HAN YING already, one of the two people accompanying ZZS to put down Bi Changfeng, looking super-pained like he knows what this is all costing his beloved. Han Ying, I really hope you got to tap that at least a few times before ZZS made his break for it. Is that one of the reasons Prince Jin seems to have such antipathy for you, or is it really just that he can’t stand the idea of someone whose loyalty to ZZS is greater than their loyalty to Prince Jin, himself? (Seriously, y’all, why is there not much much more Han Ying/ZZS fic?) Meanwhile Duan Pengju, omg, this asshole, is already looking smug and punchable. Really, he’s kind of enjoying the Seven Nails placement a little too much. Showing your hand pretty fast on the petty evil thing, show.

So, one thing I didn’t catch the first time around, is that ZZS isn’t just self-injuring to punish himself when he takes the knife to his chest – he re-opens wounds on all the places where the first six Nails have already been placed, so it will look like the placement is fresh. If you can’t tell he hasn’t just put them in, there’s no reason for anyone else (read: Prince Jin) to suspect he’s bought himself some time before he loses his senses. As far as anyone knows, he’s going to fall over with locked-in syndrome any day now. Which just makes the implications of Prince Jin vowing that he’s only letting him go for now EVEN ICKIER. For all Prince Jin knows, what he’s going to get back is a flesh doll that will just lie there, although I guess on the plus side, ZZS would never leave him again. Thanks, show, I need a shower, now.

ZZS says all the right things to argue his case to Prince Jin – he’s only good as a weapon, he has no skills nor utility for building and governing the country – and I think partly this is because he just knows the right things to say. I mean, you don’t become the Number Two guy in the country, with thousands under you and only one above you, if you can’t play imperial politics. But I also wonder if deep down he doesn’t actually believe it – he was successful at building Tian Chuang, but he couldn’t maintain Four Seasons Manor and even drove it to ruin. So, I’ll just be over here, clutching my chest, over my heart. Fortunately, Zhang Zhehan provides quick distraction from this pain, and I … Y’all. I can’t. I just. I CANNOT. When ZZS drops to his knees and starts stripping in the throne room. Just. Mmmmmrgh. THIS VISUAL. Although, you want to know what one of the hottest parts actually is? That pair of leather bracers hitting the floor on top of his belt, and ZZS isn’t even in the shot at that point. OK, fine, I am willing to read some dirtybadwrong fic with this whole scene premise at its heart, even if it does include Prince Jin. Zhang Zhehan, you are KILLING ME. I might have rewound this part. More than once. You can’t prove anything.

Aaaand then we get that gorgeous, painful shot of ZZS riding out into the snow that I know I’ve talked about before (including the way I get an odd echo of Lan Xichen off of it). There are several places in this ep where the cinematography is to die for, and this is one of them, the bleakness of the landscape and Zhang Zhehan (and his FACE) deep in that shadowing cloak against the stark snow as he rides out into freedom and the unknown. Then cut to somewhere green and forested. Interesting that the show starts with snow and ends with snow. That parallel with the imperial cage says some things about immortality that could stand to be unpacked – but later. Because ZZS is putting his face on – literally – and I am once again in pain, only it’s not the good kind of pain. It’s caused by that dreadful fake facial hair. There are some things that could be unpacked here, as well, about the fact that making ZZS supposedly unattractive involves a clearly fake goatee, a single aesthetically placed scar, and darkening his skin. I’m going to try to step carefully here, because this is kind of out of my lane, but it is … a noticeable thing. That probably ought to be noted.

So, ZZS takes just a moment to turn his (fake) face up to the sun and feel the warmth on it … and then with 10 minutes left, we’re on our way to Ghost Valley, where there’s some chaos and then Hanging Ghost gets got by a Mysterious Stranger To Be Revealed Later, who chokes him out (remember this). The Mysterious Master of Ghost Valley appears dramatically on his High Ledge to Make Some Pronouncements while playing with some walnuts omg (rolling two of them in one hand – remember this), and we see his eyes, which are partially obscured by chunky sidebangs, which are farther forward on his forehead than we’re going to see later, not only hiding some of his face but making it look more angular. The troops get berated, shit rolls downhill, and another dude gets choked (remember this) as Ghost Valley Master’s hair continues to artfully hide most of his face and he worries about his manicure post-kill (remember this). War is declared on Hanging Ghost for stealing the Glazed Armor, and more chaos is set into motion.

All of that takes literally two minutes, and then we cut to three months later, and no one realizes it yet, but the fam is getting together. ZZS is tits out in the gutter - only beginning his career of being a minx who flashes his collarbones an awful lot for someone who has Very Secret Scars He’s Hiding On His Chest - happily drinking himself to death in the sun (we really need to talk about this correlation of snow and immortality vs. sun and happiness …). Meanwhile, slo-mo shot of Wen Kexing looking precious and perfect, with delicate pink lips and dove-grey robes, as he checks out the rough trade in the gutter. Oh, the expectations this show is getting ready to smash. We cut from a shot of pristine precious WKX to ZZS holding up his hand, and we get a shot of the sun through ZZS’s fingers looking an awful lot like some shots of characters halo’d in light that we’ll get back to much much later in the show. Chengling appears out of nowhere to be Best Boy. A-Xiang is purple and smol and ready to brawl, and I already love her. I already love them all! So much! Here are my delicate and precious feelings, show, go ahead and stomp all over them!

#zhou zishu #prince jin #han ying #wen kexing #gu xiang #zhang chengling #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

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Sweetheart Suga

when I took a break in the summer it was for uhm similar reasons so this was good for me too

Sugawara x Reader

warnings: thoughts of suicide and self-harm, depression, angst,

word count: 1,100 (about)

summary: Sugawara is the best boyfriend you could ask for, he is always there for you when you need him and sometimes when you think you don't.

Sugawara could always tell when something was up with you, he was your boyfriend it was practically his job to know what was going on in that pretty little head of yours. You had been pulling away from him recently not talking to him all day or responding to any of his texts, which was concerning enough honestly. But when you did talk to him you were always short and disconnected from the conversation, like. How you got when you were tired and just about to tell him good night.

Suga was your biggest confidant, he knew everything about your mental illness and well past. His only worry was that you’d stopped trusting him somewhere along the way.

“Can we talk?” Suga asked as the two of you walked home in silence, you looked up at your ray of sunshine boyfriend and nodded. You could never say no to him when he looked at you with those soft gray puppy dog eyes.

“Are you feeling okay baby? I want you to talk to me when you have a problem,” he said rather bluntly. You blinked at him before averting your gaze.

“I know,” you muttered weakly, Suga had made it clear that he had no problem talking to you about your issues but still, you couldn’t help but feel like he was doing it out of obligation. Like he was your boyfriend so he had to care. It was hard to confide in him with that mindset

“So?” he prodded

“So… what?” you asked confused.

“So what do you want to talk about?” he repeated you sighed and shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m fine Koshi it’s just-”

“Just?” he prodded.

“I've been thinking about hurting myself again,” you squeaked, “I haven’t! But just having thoughts,” you explained quickly. You really were getting better, but those dark thoughts about hurting and killing yourself were out of your control. No matter how much you wanted to stop them you just couldn’t.

“What brought this on baby?” he asked softly cupping your cheek, running your thumb over your temple.

“Me and some of my friends had a fight and now they won’t talk to me at all, it was so stupid but they were just so mean and now they hate me, I hate me,” you spat, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands.

“Don’t say that baby, I’m sure they don’t hate you, and I know you don’t hate yourself, not really at least,” Suga soothed before kissing the crown of your head.

“Friends fight all the time, I’m sure you’ll make up with them,”

“What if we don’t?” you sniffled. Suga paused for a moment, thinking.

“Fuck em then, if they don’t know how wonderful you are, and they don’t know how worth you are keeping in their life and they let some petty little fight end it all, they don’t deserve you as a friend,” he said. You cried a little more and shook in his arms.

Suga walked home with you, and when you asked him to come in with you he followed you in like there was no other option. He wrapped you in a blanket and pulled you out onto his lap on the couch. He held your face in both of his large hands and peppered your face with feather-light kisses. On your cheeks, nose and forehead.

“Do you want to watch a movie or just cuddle?” he asked you nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in his cologne a familiar and comforting scent.

“Movie please,” you decided, even though you fully planned on staying with your face planted in his chest. You liked watching movies with Suga, even if he was the only one watching. Koshi would talk through just about anything and you enjoyed feeling the rumble of his voice as he talked and joked.

“Lady and the tramp it is,” he said, starting the movie. “Lady and Tramp are a lot like us you know that?”

“How so,”

“Obviously, I am the wild and good-looking tramp who introduces the prim and adorable Lady to wildlife on the streets- or volleyball I guess. Volleyball is a lot like being a mutt I think, maybe I’m losing this metaphor a little bit,”

you laughed against his chest. “You could have just said spaghetti date nights and I would have accepted it,”

“That too, come on don’t you think I’m a little like Tramp? Rouge yet devastatingly attractive to all the ladies?”

“You’re the tamest person I know,”

“I can be wild!”

“Mmm is that so?” you asked

“Is too so,” he defended.

“Then why are you always the one to go and stop Tanaka and Nishinoya when they get into trouble?” he started to speak but then shut his mouth Frimley making you laugh again.

“Baby that’s different, if I don't stop them Daichi will and Daichi will kill them,” he whined, only making you laugh harder.

“Princess just tell me I’m dangerous and sexy please,” he whined dropping his chin to the top of your head.

“Of course you are baby, I love you,” you cooed in between giggles. You leaned up quickly and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you too, now quit laughing at me or I’ll really give

#sugawara x reader #sugawara fic #sugawara kōshi #imagine sugawara #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!

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hypmic-writings · 4 years

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May I get a Saburo writing rap/song lyrics with the reader (preferably the reader’s gender not be specified)? I love your writing and you head cannons so much💞✨ -👁👄👁 anon

━━ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ━━

Pairing: Saburo Yamada x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 665

A/N: This was super cute! I’m always here to give Saburo more friends and just have him be the happy, best boy I know he is! Thank you for your kind words, and I hope you enjoy this one~

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

“Ah, I can’t figure out the bridge” Saburo cried out, from where he was seated on the couch. You walked over to him with two cups of cocoa, setting one down on the coffee table in front of him while continuing to hold yours as you took a seat beside him.

“Mmm…do you want me to take a look at it for you?” you asked, looking down at the papers that were sprawled out all over the couch, the table, and spilling onto the floor.

You had suggested that Saburo come over to hang out for a while, and when he had mentioned that he was working on a new rap for an upcoming division battle, you insisted that you would be able to help. Unfortunately, you had vastly underestimated how difficult it was to write lyrics.

Saburo had been walking you through his song-writing process, and you had to admit that it was quite intense, but also extremely impressive

“What rhymes with orange?” you asked, tilting your head down at the paper he was holding out to you. Saburo let out a sigh and suck down into the couch.

“Nothing worth putting in this particular rap,” he grumbled, taking the paper from your hand and throwing it carelessly behind him. You watched it float to the ground before turning back to him.

“Drink some of the cocoa while it’s still hot! Maybe the sugar will help you think,” you suggested, with a laugh. Saburo shook his head, but reached out for the drink anyways, taking a small sip.

“It’s probably just going to make it harder to concentrate,” he insisted, but as he took another sip, you knew that he was just trying to show off. “It’s…really good…” he admitted under his breath. You decided not to tease him and simply hummed in agreement.

“Yea, it’s always nice to drink something warm on cold days like today,” you said, nodding to the snow falling outside of the window. Saburo followed your gaze and bit his thumb in thought.

“Hmmm, maybe I could use the snow as a theme in the song?” he asked, more to himself than to you. You were about to ask him how that would work, but he was already mumbling to himself and furiously taking notes on his notepad, making you smile.

You were surprised to find that he wrote most of his lyrics down on paper – you had thought someone as tech savvy as Saburo would insist on using a computer. He had scolded you though, saying that a real rapper writes using the pen. You figured that was something Ichiro had mentioned one time in passing and that it simply stuck with Saburo and honestly, who were you to argue?

“Oh, you could but this line here and then rhyme ‘morning’ with the word ‘warning’ from the line before it!” you exclaimed, peering over his shoulder and pointing down at the words. Saburo followed your train of thought and enthusiastically began to scribble.

“That’s perfect! Then, we can move the line ‘sick as a dog’ over here and we can play with another metaphor before that!” he cried out, happily. You watched his face turn ecstatic and let out a smile at his demeanor. It was quite rare to see Saburo so fired up, there weren’t many things that made him this excited, but writing songs and rapping were definitely a few that made the fire in his eyes burn.

You were just happy to be able to be a part of it.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Saburo said, not glancing up to look at you, but stating his words clearly. “It’s actually really helpful,” he added, and you swore that you saw just a hint of a blush on his face. You smiled and nodded at him, leaning back into the couch and sipping your drink.

“Don’t mention it, Saburo! I am the best rhyme maker of all time.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #saburo #saburo yamada #saburo x reader #saburo yamada x reader #imagines #scenarios #drabbles #hypmic scenarios #hypmic imagines #hypmic drabbles #hypnosis microphone imagines #hypnosis microphone scenarios #hypnosis microphone drabbles

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angstyaches · 3 years

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Please Please Please could you maybe do the next part of that Felix "drinking blood and getting a tummy ache" fic??? I'm just craving tears and fluff and tummy rubs and just 🥺🥺🥺and you are also so talented omg

Aagghh, I promised this so long ago, anon, I’m so sorry! I was reluctant because I thought I had to write emeto into it and Felix would be so ashamed and guilty and I couldn’t bring myself to do it (Fee’s already got quite an angsty storyline coming up), but your request was perfect.

CW: accidental stuffing/overdoing, drinking blood, mention of a dead animal, guilt and worry (but it turns out okay), nausea, stomach ache, mention of emeto (no actual emeto)

Continued from this fic.

“Fee? How are you doing, boo?”

The haze of something between sleepiness and drunkenness was thick as Felix looked up at his talking pillow, Elliott, from the taller boy’s lap. He took a moment to let his hammering heart calm down from the fear of whatever he’d been dreaming about, and admired the wide curves of Elliott’s jawline from below, and the soft smile it was offering.

Remembering the events of the afternoon made something like an anchor sink in Felix’s gut, a metaphor that here was quite appropriate. He wasn’t exactly sure how much a typical anchor weighed, but the weight in his belly must have been at least somewhat comparable.

Then, in a flurry of panic, Felix realised that they were both in the back of Ryan’s car without seatbelts.

He pulled himself forward, feeling Elliott’s hand rest on his back to help ease him up, but the movement was still way too strenuous for his full, aching stomach. Felix whimpered, feeling as though something with giant feet had just tried to use his belly as a trampoline.

“Fee.” Elliott rested his hands on Felix’s shoulders. “Boo, take it easy.”

“Seatbelts.” Felix’s voice was thick and heavy. “We have to put on – put on seatbelts.”

“We’re sitting in the driveway,” Elliott half-laughed. “We’ve been home for about an hour, but I didn’t want to wake you in case you felt sick.”

Felix felt a flash of gratitude amidst the pain radiating from his gut, and turned his body slowly in the seat so that he could face his boyfriend.

“Thank you, darling.”

Elliott gave a tight smile and nodded, as though agreeing that he should be thanked. “My legs are very numb.”

“Sorry. Ugh…” Felix mumbled, easing his back into the seat and running his hands carefully over the swell his belly had made beneath his green, loose-knit jumper. He heard Elliott getting out of the other side of the car, but closed his eyes quickly after.

His senses were tingling with acute awareness, probably heightened by whatever chemicals were produced in a vampire’s body during a hunt. He wasn’t used to feeling like this, to noticing the rhythm of his own heartbeat, the whistling rush of air in his throat and lungs, the volume of liquid in his stomach rocking back and forth like it had its own tidal pull.

He also remembered it all way too vividly, with too much colour and saturation; he remembered getting caught up in thirst and lust and the need to try to impress Elliott by being on the same level as him. He remembered feeling the creature’s meat between his teeth as he sucked the blood from its veins, though it was still pulsing so quickly that it probably would have filled his mouth quickly even if he hadn’t sucked. It had been so fresh, so freshly-delivered from the condition of being alive.

Felix winced as tears sprung to his eyes, partially from the ache in his belly and partially from the memory. It was like all of the nausea and regret of waking up with a hangover.

He opened his eyes again as Elliott slowly opened the car door.

“Come on, Fee,” Elliott coaxed as he offered Felix his arms. His voice was soft, like he was trying to soothe a frightened dog.

Felix took the help with a little pout, leaning his weight against Elliott’s chest when he could. He whimpered when he felt strong arms close around his back, careful not to pin him to tightly.

“Oh, my gosh,” Felix groaned. “Elli, I drank too much. I drank so much –”

“Sssshhh, no, no, no, you’re fine,” Elliott whispered.

“No, I’m not, I – I’m weak, Elli.” The sob that shook Felix’s frame was dry and gentle, like all of his muscles were conscious of the swell of pain in his gut, and knew that sudden, harsh movements would make everything so much worse. “I can’t do a single thing I set my mind to.”

“What are you going on about, boo?”

“I’m just so weak...”

“Come on, crazy, we’re getting you inside.” Elliott’s sigh made his chest rise and fall in front of Felix’s face. “You can take another nap if you want, and I’m sure Ryan has something you can take if it hurts too much. How does that sound?”

Felix ran a hand over his sore belly, shuddering at the oppressive warmth radiating out from it. His stomach was churning in an optimistic attempt to be productive; it hadn’t accepted the fact that it was futile just yet, even if Felix had.

A wet belch rumbled up, tying a knot in his oesophagus somewhere along the way. Felix promptly pressed his fingers a little harder against his stomach to coax up one more burst of air, this one sounding hollow as it made its way up.

“There you go,” Elliott chuckled, rubbing a hand across Felix’s back before attempting to direct him towards the front door. “Does that feel better?”

“No? I hate this so much,” Felix whimpered, lips trembling miserably as he allowed himself to be led. He still held onto his belly, as though afraid of what it would do if it was left to its own devices.

“I know you do,” Elliott assured him. “You’re doing really well, though. Let’s just get you inside.”

He held Felix up as best he could until they made it inside the front door. Felix sensed his boyfriend hesitating in the hallway by the foot of the stairs, as though considering whether their bed would be a better option.

Felix peered up at Elliott from behind drooping eyelids.

“The front room is fine, darling,” he groaned. “I can’t walk upstairs right now. No chance.”

Elliott scanned Felix’s eyes very carefully while holding him in place. “How about a bathroom?”

The trembling in Felix’s lips still hadn’t subsided, and was even creeping into his jaw and making his teeth rattle a bit. There was no doubt that he would probably empty his stomach of every last drop if he was given a toilet to lean over, and his tummy even gave a pleading whine at the thought.

“N-no, I – I don’t want to be sick.”

Elliott’s eyes stopped searching Felix’s, and began to cross over his pale face instead. “You mightn’t have much of a say in that, Fee.”

“I’ll be fine, darling, I promise.” Felix gulped, his throat bobbing ominously. “I just want to lie down. It hurts so much.”

The sofa in the front room was a dark shade of beige. Everything in this room was styled to look a little earthier than the rest of the house. The absence of pure white walls was an instinct relief, but it was nothing compared to sinking down into the cushions and curling up.

“Oh – ow,” Felix whined, unfurling his legs to stop the pinching cramp that gripped his belly. He rolled halfway onto his back so that his stomach wasn’t being pressed into the sofa either.

“That’s it; I’m going to get Ryan,” Elliott decided.

“N-no, darling, don’t.” Felix took hold of Elliott’s hand, drawing it to his chest before holding it gently against his belly. “Please, I just need you to be here with me.”

“What if something’s wrong –?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Felix let out a shaky laugh between gasps of discomfort. He could feel how pale he face must have been, along with a ripple of cold sweat that broke out across his forehead and shoulders. “You know me, Elli. I just like to complain.”

Looking unconvinced, Elliott turned his hand over so that his palm rested against Felix’s stomach, just as the unsettled thing let out a growl. Felix felt the grumble begin in the swollen point beneath his ribs before it bubbled down and tapered out somewhere just above his belly button.

“Look like you’re not the only one complaining,” Elliott pointed out, smoothing his hand over Felix’s belly with the slightest amount of pressure.

Felix hummed under his breath, all too aware of the sensation of digestion once again trying to take place inside his stomach walls. He could feel a shift in his throat, a quickening of his heartbeat. A shaky hand went to his mouth, hovering uneasily, but there wasn’t even any air trying to escape.

He shivered without warning.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmm – yeah,” Felix mumbled thickly. His throat bobbed with another nauseous gulp. “I’m getting there.”

Elliott’s frown deepened as he kneaded his hand softly over Felix’s abdomen. He paused to redirect his hand whenever a gurgle was emitted from an unexpected area, doing his best to seek out the most uncomfortable points without pushing too hard on anything.

“I know you’re hung up on this,” he said after hearing a growl that travelled halfway up Felix’s chest, “but there’s really nothing to be ashamed about, if you feel sick –”

“’M okay.”

“Okay.” Elliott’s lips were pulled into a thin, resigned smile. “How the hell can you say you’re weak, hmm? You drank almost as much as I did, and you’ve got a much smaller – you know.” He patted Felix’s belly very gently. “Capacity.”

A shaky sigh left Felix’s lips. “My capacity is still very achy.”

“I’m not doubting that at all. Just try to relax. I��ve got you. Okay?”

“Mmhmm. Okay.”

He didn’t know if it was the relief of finally being home, or the gentle press of Elliott’s hand, but the gurgling in Felix’s tummy eventually didn’t feel (or sound) quite so angry anymore. In its calmed state, it swirled and bubbled with the motion of Elliott’s hand, continuing to do so even when Felix’s drifted into a light, if somewhat twitchy, sleep. He smiled semi-consciously at the sensation of Elliott’s lips pressing gently against his cheek.

#Swallow the World #vampire sickfic #vampire stuffing #sickfic #nausea #stomach ache #stomach kink #stuffing kink #ugh I don't usually have to tag for stuffing and it feels weird #but this was fun to write so I don't really mind #Felix #Elliott #sick Felix #belly rubs #belly rubs fic #sick boys

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starlight-vixen-emiko · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday 6/16/2021

Hello everyone! It’s 1 am here in California and I plan on working on Wedding Roses Chapter 3 once I got to sleep and wake up in the morning, because I feel bad for making everyone wait and I noticed everyone else in the Lukanette writing fandom is writing fanfics of Luka and Marinette married or getting married......I am so proud!

But until then how about a WIP from your beloved Lady Emiko.

For background I wrote this unfinished fanfic for Lukanette June 2021 prompt “Choice” but it got really long so I stopped...But I kept the document in my files because I kind of liked it even though I wasn’t sure which direction it was going.

I wonder if you guys will enjoy it as well. And since feedback really encourages me, if you honeybuns sweet talk me a little I may feel motivated to finish it and publish it.

Also to note, this fanfic contains cheating. I didn’t want to make Adrien the bad guy here but that’s how it turned out.

Anyway, enjoy this little piece of late night reading!

Marinette was the luckiest girl alive.

She built up all her courage to confess to popular teen model Adrien Agreste and he accepted her feelings and agreed to date her.

And the part few months were blissful. Marinette decided to go to Adrien's mansion with a box of delicious peppermint ice cream (his favorite) and surprise him. But Marinette noticed something strange in the garden by the entrance.

Marinette's curiosity got the better of her and she decided to walk through the beautiful garden only to be completely shocked to see Adrien smiling and giggling with Zoe Lee.

Marinette paused for a moment, not being able to process that her boyfriend was acting strange.

Then her mouth dropped as she saw Adrien pressing a kiss on Zoe's lips. Zoe looked utterly surprised and Marinette couldn't help but scream a little. Then Zoe screamed realizing that Marinette was right behind them and Adrien's dazed smile turned into horror as he saw Marinette watched him in the act.

"Marinette!" Adrien cried. He and Zoe looked absolutely horrified as Marinette's face was anger laced with tears. She dropped the box of ice cream on the ground.

"Marinette this isn't what it looks like!" Adrien cried.

Marinette could listen to this no more and ran off.

"Marinette I'm sorry!" Zoe cried.

Adrien ran for Marinette as she ran out of the garden crying. But as Adrien reached out her his girlfriend he tripped and landed on the concrete and Marinette was able to run free. But at that point Adrien realized it was pointless for him to chase after her now.

Everything changed at that moment. Marinette laid in her bed with tears still streaming in her eyes. Her room was dim because of the dark grey clouds outside not allowing any light in. Marinette turned off her phone because she was getting multiple notifications as Adrien announced that he and Marinette were no because he cheated.

Sure Adrien was being honest but Marinette didn't want everyone pitying her.

Tikki let Marinette rest after Marinette came home and cried out that Adrien cheated on her.

Marinette turned over in her bed and finally started to fall asleep but Tikki floated down to comfort Marinette.

"Marinette, I am so sorry!" Tikki cried.

At that point Marinette made a choice to not believe in love.

The next day Marinette sat with her friends at lunch for comfort. And Marinette was relieved she was surrounded by friends and Adrien and Zoe weren't here to apologize with their tails between their legs. But then Alya suggested there are some other good guys out there and Marinette was slightly irritated.

She said nothing and walked away from her friends, there was a hint of guilt on Alya and Nino's faces.

"There is someone out there who will love you right Marinette, I just know it!" Alya cried.

"Yeah, just because Adrien cheated doesn't mean you have to suffer," Nino cried.

Marinette ignored them and walked to the drink machine. With her pocket money she bought herself a strawberry milk to sweetened up her sour mood but then she sighed when the milk cartoon got stuck in the machine. She was about to give the machine a harsh knock but then she heard someone behind her.

"I can get that for you Marinette."

Marinette held her heart jump at the sound of the familiar voice from a handsome boy with blue hair, it was Luka!

Marinette turned quickly. "Oh Luka!" She felt a bit frazzled. "You don't have to do that for me I was going to get it by myself."

Luka said nothing and got on his knees and stuck his long arm inside the drink machine. There was a little bit of struggle but he managed to dislodge the strawberry milk carton and catch it was his hand. He presented it to her with a smile.

Marinette couldn't help but blush as she hesitated to take the drink. But she took her sweet strawberry drink and briefly felt his gentle hand.

Marinette smirked. "Thank you Luka."

Luka gave her a suave smile. "No problem," he said as he turned to get his own beverage.

Marinette quickly grabbed her wallet.

"Luka!"

The blue haired boy paused and turned to her, seemingly unbothered that Marinette interrupted her. "Yes Marinette."

Marinette's wallet shakes in her hands with the sound of coins. "I-I can pay for your drink!"

Luka smiled down at her but he reached into his pocket. "There is no need," he said.

But then when he pulled out the money he had in his coat pocket he paused for a moment to see the amount.

Marinette ran to the drink machine. "I have plenty of money Luka!"

Luka gestured at her that it was alright. "I just wanted blueberry root beer it's no big deal."

Marinette said nothing and quickly placed in money for blueberry root beer. This time the drink fell down perfectly and Marinette took it and presented it to Luka.

Luka didn't accept it at first. He was touched by Marinette's kindness and Marinette smirked at him, her way of showing him she can also be chivalrous.

Both of their smiles bursted into laughter and then Luka accepted the root beer.

"Thanks Marinette, I owe you," Luka said.

"No!" Marinette cried. He just saved her strawberry milk. "It's alright."

"I should thank you." Marinette said, a genuine smile on her face. Luka taking the time to shove his arm up a drink machine to save her milk was a small thing that made her day.

Marinette gave Luka one last glance before she tried to run back to her friends but her friends were packing up and Alya and Nino gestured to Marinette to stay with Luka.

Marinette gave them an exasperated look but at the same time. After Alya and Nino left Marinette looked back and saw Luka was still beside her. So she chose to spend the rest of lunch with him.

They stood next to each other with their drinks while watching the blue sky and clouds.

Marinette admitted it was nice to spend time with Luka. It was easy to be happy with him.

"I'm happy to be spending time with you Marinette," Luka said. "I just hope I am good company as well."

Marinette's strawberry milk tasted sweeter than usual.

"Mmm! Of course you are!" Marinette said. "I feel…"

"Amazing." Marinette finished.

Luka finished his bottle of blueberry rootbeer. But Marinette was a bit concerned. She dogged into her lunch pouch for an extra wrapped sandwich and presented it to Luka.

"Here, you should eat something!" Marinette said.

Luka was flattered but he looked as if he didn't want to accept it.

"Please, I have too much," Marinette said.

Luka finally gave in and accepted the sandwich.

"No need for paybacks!" Marinette said.

Luka was happy, he almost held the sandwich close to his heart. Marinette leaned against the column and smiled.

"I heard about Adrien," Luka said. "And I'm sorry."

Marinette figured Luka would bring this up at one point. She would be annoyed but Luka was showing genuine concern and he was being sweet about it.

Marinette forced a smile, as she didn't want Luka to be her security blanket.

"I'll be ok," Marinette said.

Marinette threw her hands up. "I mean who needs romance anyway when I have friends!"

Luka chuckled. "You're right, but I am here if you ever need me. Remember that."

Marinette felt herself loosen up a bit. She felt like putting up metaphorical armor but with Luka she felt she could be vulnerable. What was this feeling?

Suddenly Luka's phone rang and he checked it. "Well, actually I have to go now, but I will see you later."

Luka gave her one more look with his ocean blue eyes.

"I would like that," Marinette said.

Marinette watched as Luka walked away. She felt a stirring in her heart that felt different after so much emotional numbness.

But then Marinette snapped out of her euphoria and remembered why she decided to put up walls. She wanted to choose not to get hurt again. Besides, Luka was just a good friend, there was no reason to read too deeply in it.

But even though she couldn't know everything she did have to admit Luka wasn't like Adrien. Comparing Luka to Adrien would be an insult. Maybe she would end up being a bad girlfriend.

Either way she was done with romance!

Marinette felt a familiar critter on her shoulder.

"Luka certainly is as sweet as strawberry milk!" Tikki said.

"Tikki!!" Marinette yelped.

Marinette agreed she could just ignore everyone's suggestions.

Author’s note: Yes somebody please give my handsome son a blueberry root beer, he deserves one! Yeah, I thought this was freaking cute, Luka willing to stick his arm up a drink machine to save Marinette’s strawberry milk.

I could use a strawberry milk myself...The kind made from real strawberries not the artificial stuff!

Anyway, there is more to this fanfic so if you lovebugs are interested in reading more go ahead and send me some feedback.

This is Emiko Gale signing out and sleep well my lovely lovebugs!

#pro lukamari #lukanette #my fanfiction #my writing #wip wednesday

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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A Change in the Weather AU (inspired by Cacophonylights's A Change in the Weather) - Chapter 32

Read on AO3.

Warning for mention of past sexual assault.

It’s around ten in the morning when Sebastian and Kurt wake in their tent out on the porch, rattled to consciousness by Sebastian’s ringer slicing through the lull of the still pouring rain. Kurt hears Sebastian groan, hears him curse at it, mumbling something about not answering it out of spite and wouldn’t that show it who’s boss? Kurt chuckles at his boyfriend’s sleep-deprived ridiculousness, but Sebastian has no one to blame for this oversight but himself. Kurt had left his phone in the bedroom before they’d retired to the porch for this very reason.

He didn’t want to be disturbed.

They’re both dog tired. More than that. Whatever animal dogs use as a metaphor when they get tired, that’s what Kurt and Sebastian are.

It’s comfy in their tent out on the porch. Too comfy to deal with things like phone calls when Kurt and Sebastian are lying next to one another, asleep in each other’s arms. Kurt feels Sebastian stir, mumbling again about how he’s willing to punch his phone to fucking pieces if it doesn’t knock it off, then settle back into their cozy cocoon.

“You could just shut it off, you know,” Kurt reminds him, giggling when he feels Sebastian’s breathing hitch.

“Yeah, all right,” he says without owning up to his mistake. He reaches underneath his pillow to get it, but before his fingers touch it, it obligingly stops ringing. “There you go then. I guess that’s that.”

“Who was it?” Kurt asks, completely unaware of anything outside Sebastian’s tirade with his eyes closed.

“Don’t know, don’t care. They’re gone. That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kurt says, surrendering to the hug that envelopes him from behind. Sebastian’s soft snores fill the tent again, and Kurt takes that as his cue to go back to sleep, the patter of the rain on the outside skin of the tent a powerful sedative.

But right as Kurt gets ready to re-visit his fantasy from last night in the darkness behind his eyelids, Sebastian’s phone rings again, dragging them both further into consciousness.

“Argh! What do you want?” Sebastian whines. Kurt rolls to his opposite side in their sleeping bag as Sebastian proceeds to verbally berate his phone. Kurt is reluctant to do anything that qualifies as moving, but he so wants a front seat to this temper tantrum. If he’s going to have his sleep repeatedly interrupted, he wants to be entertained.

And besides, if Sebastian had turned off his phone, they wouldn’t be having this issue.

Again, the phone stops ringing, but it starts immediately up, and Sebastian fishes it out without stalling this time to put an end to its reign of terror. “Ugh. Too bright,” he murmurs, squinting at the screen. But something he sees stops him from shutting his phone down. “Wait a minute …”

“What?”

“It’s Liv.” Sebastian stares harder, making sure. “Pfft. Her timing is impeccable.”

“Shouldn’t she be here?” Kurt asks. “She didn’t mention having any plans for the morning.”

“I don’t happen to have her social calendar memorized, but mumsy and dadums probably took her and Brian out to brunch. If Julian went with them, you know what that means …” Sebastian bites his lower lip suggestively, growls for good measure.

“Pizza for breakfast?” Kurt teases.

“No …” Sebastian says. “You … on the living room couch. This way you won’t be able to even look at a couch cushion without getting a hard on.”

“Kinky,” Kurt says, his heart fluttering at hummingbird speeds from the smile Sebastian flashes him, broadcasting his intentions on devouring him whole. Still, Kurt can’t help thinking Sebastian looks more than a little nervous. That thought doesn’t dim as Sebastian answers his phone.

“Hello, Olivia!” Kurt yells before Sebastian gets the chance.

“Hello, sister dear,” Sebastian says, voice dripping venom. But Olivia doesn’t rise to the challenge.

“Hey,” she says in a guarded tone. “How’s it going? Did you guys have fun last night?”

“We did,” Kurt answers for his yawning boyfriend. He rests his head against Sebastian’s chest, their tent so quiet despite the rain, he’s able to hear Olivia even though his ear is nowhere near the phone. “Very much.”

“That’s good. I’m glad,” she says. She sounds happy for them, but also distracted. “Have you guys seen Julian by any chance?”

“No. We’re not even awake yet,” Sebastian replies. “We are currently enjoying the sleep in and cuddle phase of being on vacation!”

“So no phone calls or anything?” Olivia reiterates without any of her usual teasing, her syrupy swooning over how sweet the two of them are together. “No texts?”

The scowl drifts from Sebastian’s face at the concern in his sister’s voice, the urgency behind her questions. “No, Liv. Nothing. Why?”

“We can’t find him.”

“Is that all?” Sebastian relaxes, but not enough to erase the worry lines from around his eyes. “He’s just bummed out over Cooper. He’ll turn up. He always does. It’s only … fuck …” Sebastian exclaims when he glances at his phone screen “… ten in the morning!”

“Seb,” Liv says firmly, trying to make her younger brother hear her, “he left early. He didn’t tell us where he was headed, but he was in such a hurry, I thought Cooper had arrived. I thought … I thought things were finally going to work out for him. But he hasn’t checked in, and we’ve been calling him for hours.”

“Julian’s not really a check in sort of person,” Sebastian points out. “Never has been. But maybe Cooper did come through and they’re at a hotel. You know Julian …”

“His phone has stopped going to voicemail,” she interrupts, nearing her wit’s end. There’s a knot between Olivia’s words, an unlevel platform struggling to keep her voice steady enough for her to tell them the rest. But she doesn’t have to. Kurt feels Sebastian’s chest tighten beneath his cheek and he just knows. It’s contagious, Kurt’s chest tightening shortly after. “He’s gone, Sebastian. He’s just … gone.”

“Where are you now?” Sebastian asks.

“We’re out looking for him. Brian and I are still local but Mom and Dad are heading farther north.”

“Don’t worry.” Sebastian throws off the covers, mouthing the words I’m sorry to Kurt when a sudden block of cold air hits them both like an anvil and Kurt’s teeth chatter. “Kurt and I are going to head out in a few minutes and help. We’ll find him, Liv.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.” A pained expression colors his tired face, but it disappears quickly. “Let us go. I’ll text you in about thirty, let you know our game plan.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,�� she says, a bit more relaxed than when she first called.

“Awww, are you worried about me, sis?” Sebastian coos.

“Well … I’m worried about Kurt mainly. But sure - you, too.”

Sebastian retaliates with a rude noise. Olivia laughs conservatively, and things feel closer to rectified. “Thanks a lump.”

“Bearing that in mind, maybe Brian and I should swing by and pick him up …”

“Goodbye, Liv,” Sebastian sings, disconnecting the call. He stares at the screen, or at his reflection in it - Kurt can’t tell. But he knows Sebastian is thinking.

“What’s up?” Kurt asks when Sebastian starts swiping through his call log.

“I’m checking to see if Julian did try to contact us this morning, but we were too dead asleep to wake up.”

“Unlikely seeing as Olivia’s calls woke us up.”

“Yeah, well, it took her five tries,” Sebastian says, showing Kurt his screen.

“Wow.”

“I know. My mom and dad tried nine and we missed them, too.” Kurt watches Sebastian’s eyes scan the numbers on his screen. When he reaches the end, he scrolls back to the beginning and checks again. “Crap! There’s nothing.”

Sebastian and Kurt recline together in the silence, Kurt staring at Sebastian, unsure what they’re supposed to do next; Sebastian looking Kurt over appraisingly, a hundred and one thoughts at work behind his eyes.

“What?” Kurt asks, unable to take Sebastian’s silence any longer, his pensive stare that prickles Kurt’s skin and not in a good way, not when he feels like they should be doing something! “Do I have something on my face?”

Kurt can tell by the way the right corner of Sebastian’s mouth quirks that he has a comeback for that one, but he doesn’t let it out. “I may have a way to find him, but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone!”

“You don’t trust me!?” Kurt gasps since that’s the absolute last thing he’d expected Sebastian to say at this stage of their relationship, fledgling or not.

“Lawful good, babe. Remember?” Sebastian replies like that explains everything. “Plus I know you. If you think we’re in over our heads, you’ll call in reinforcements whether I want you to or not. And I need you to trust me on this one, okay?”

“Hypocrite much?” Kurt mutters.

“I need you to trust me,” Sebastian repeats, sounding as urgent as Olivia did doing her darndest to get through her brother’s thick skull, “and do what I’m asking without question, just this once.”

“Sebastian! I’m not going to tell on you! Your brother’s in trouble! I’m going to do anything in my power to help you out!”

Sebastian blinks at Kurt, doesn’t seem relieved by his response. His brows draw together, an unamused look brewing in his eyes. “Mmm … hmmph …” he says, going back to his phone, not at all thrilled by Kurt’s enthusiasm. Kurt rolls his eyes because he can’t with his boyfriend, acting jealous at a time like this!

Sebastian holds his phone like a poker hand, close to his chest, but bit by bit, he loosens his posture as he navigates a website Kurt has never seen before. He doesn’t want to peek, doesn’t want to invade his or his brother’s privacy, but the bizarrely high-tech looking page has Kurt curious beyond belief.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he says, breaking down. “What is that? What are you doing?”

Sebastian gives him a look, still thoroughly unamused, but his apparent need to talk through this with someone wins out in the end. “Julian has two phones. Has for a while now. He has the one our folks set up for him with the number he’s had forever, and one he bought for himself. I’m the only one in our family who knows about it. Only two people have that number including me. Anyway, both of his phones have a GPS tracking function, but he tends to turn it off on his main phone.”

“But not on the second one?”

“It’s a safety net. In case he gets himself into any real shit, at least I can find him.” Kurt watches Sebastian flip through screens, eyes following his finger as he scrolls. What starts as a blank, inscrutable expression swiftly becomes a frown. “Of course, I don’t actually trust him as far as I can throw him, so I downloaded an app called Spyine.” Sebastian smirks. “It’s one of those apps that jealous husbands use to keep tabs on their wives.”

“Well …” Kurt’s face pinches with disgust “… isn’t that morally ambiguous.”

Sebastian flips to a new screen with a map displayed and sighs. “This isn’t good.”

Kurt moves up Sebastian’s chest to see better, no longer concerned with invading privacy considering the site Sebastian is using. “What isn’t?”

“According to this, his phone is either not on, or …” Sebastian swipes back, again double checking.

Kurt gnaws on his inner cheek, wracked by the suspense. He’s beginning to feel like he’s been dropped in the middle of a Tom Clancy novel. “Or …?”

“Or he’s nowhere nearby.” Sebastian makes it sound so simple, but from the way his eyes cloud over, Kurt knows it’s not.

“Like … nowhere near the beach house?”

Sebastian shakes his head but he doesn’t explain. Kurt’s stomach flips. He feels out of his depth and completely useless. He wants to help Julian, but he has no idea where to start. He knows nothing about the technology Sebastian is using. He’s barely aware of the fact that his own phone has a GPS tracking system. As it is, he has no idea whether it’s switched on or not. He thought they’d be able to find Julian regardless using cell phone towers and pinging signals, but that’s because the only information he has on the subject comes from watching Law and Order. “What’s the reach on that thing?”

“I don’t know exactly. Far? I’ve only had to use it once, but that time, he was only a couple of miles away.” Sebastian’s head snaps up, a hint of Eureka! in his eyes. He slaps a palm to his forehead. Kurt jumps at the smack! the contact makes. It sounds like it hurt. “Shit! I have a feeling … fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I know where he’s heading!”

“Where!?”

Sebastian blows out a breath. It’s the most annoyed, frustrated, worried, anxious sound Kurt has ever heard come out of another human being, and Kurt knows, he just knows that the next words out of Sebastian’s mouth are going to open a Pandora’s box. “Westerville.” Sebastian puts both hands over his face, laughs maniacally into his palms. “Fancy a drive? I swear we’ll come back.”

“Yes.” Kurt sits up, moving aside so Sebastian can get ready. “Of course. Whatever we have to do.”

“Great,” Sebastian says, although he sounds more put out than relieved. Kurt can’t help wondering if this is a pattern for them - one of their many complicated tangos. Julian had mentioned that Sebastian has an inner mom complex. Does that extend to more than damages to home and property? Is this a habit - Julian messes up and Sebastian goes after him? What else would necessitate Sebastian downloading some super spy app onto his phone?

“We should text your parents, right?” Kurt follows Sebastian to the tent door, carrying the sinking suspicion with him that they’re not. “Let them know what’s going on?” Sebastian stops Kurt before he unzips the rain flap. He drapes a blanket over Kurt’s head and shoulders, then puts an arm around him to keep him from getting too too wet.

“Not quite yet,” Sebastian says, hurrying them the short distance across the porch to the door.

“It’s going to be a twelve hour drive! What are they going to think when we don’t come back? You have to tell them something!”

“I will tell them something!” Sebastian throws the door open and ushers Kurt inside. “I just … I need to figure out what that something is first.”

***

Sebastian doesn’t pack any of his belongings, but Kurt does. He doesn’t take everything he brought with him when they leave. After all, they plan on coming back. But he does grab a few things - a couple of shirts and some shorts he’s sick of wearing. He’d already mentioned to Sebastian wanting to stop by his house to say what’s up to his dad and tell him the good news about the check. Kurt didn’t feel right telling his father over the phone, but he wants to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that his dad won’t waste time worrying. Kurt isn’t exactly sure how much he intends on telling his dad, though he should probably consider telling him the whole truth eventually.

If Charlotte knows, Greg will, too, sooner or later. It’ll get back to his dad one way or the other.

Kurt wants his dad to hear it from him.

While they’re in Ohio, Kurt plans on depositing the check into his account (he’s been trying to do it via mobile but, again, his frickin’ phone …) and bam! One less thing to worry about.

Sebastian leaves his folks and Olivia a note letting them know that he and Kurt will be out for the afternoon and well into the evening, running down some of Julian’s hangouts. It’s not exactly a lie. In fact, it’s enough of a not lie that it’s nearly the truth. Never once does Sebastian mention in his note that any of those spots are in North Carolina so technically not a lie.

Kurt is frightened at how quickly that conclusion is to come to, and how okay he is with it.

Kurt expects Sebastian to text his parents and come clean after their first rest stop. When that doesn’t happen, he hinges his hopes on the second, which they take two hours later. But Sebastian doesn’t text them then, either. He doesn’t look at his phone at all once they hit the highway. He just drives, with so much determination, it concerns Kurt. What will happen if they show up at wherever it is they’re going and Julian isn’t there? What do they do then?

Kurt considers texting Liv on the sly to tell her that they’re okay and that they have a lead. But if he does, that would mean Sebastian is right.

Kurt is a lawful good. And that’s not necessarily a good thing.

But worst of all, it would mean Sebastian can’t trust him.

So he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket to avoid temptation.

Half way to Ohio, they stop for a bite, and to sit down somewhere that isn’t a car. But they eat so fast, so anxious to get back on the road, Kurt barely tastes his sandwich. When they settle back into Sebastian’s Mustang with a canvas bag full of road snacks, the engine is barely cool to the touch. Sebastian merges onto the highway, hops lanes until they hit the far left, and that’s where they stay, cruising at a hair above eighty for the remainder of the way.

Kurt watches Sebastian drive for awhile, but Sebastian’s eyes don’t leave the road. He either doesn’t notice, or he’s so used to Kurt watching him, it doesn’t faze him. Kurt feels like he should say something, reassure Sebastian that they’ll find his brother, but Sebastian knows that better than Kurt does. Kurt doesn’t even know where in Westerville they’re headed. The Smythe estate? But then why didn’t Sebastian just say they’re going home? Dalton? Also a possibility, but then why not mention it?

Kurt hates waiting, but he’ll have to and see.

Kurt is tired of questions that have no answers, but he doesn’t want to pressure Sebastian for any. And since staring him down while they’re trapped inside a vehicle together might be seen as pressuring, he shifts his attention out the window to the cars driving beside them, at the trees and the grass, the gorgeous ocean they’re leaving behind.

Saying goodbye to that ocean prematurely will be one of Kurt’s biggest regrets about this adventure.

But it won’t be his only one.

***

Kurt wakes to a shrill metallic beeping spitballing through his brain. It unnerves the hell out of him since he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. They’d been traveling in silence, the radio on low, tuned in to a classical music station Sebastian chose. Kurt didn’t rest his head, didn’t close his eyes.

He’d blinked, and hours had flown by.

It’s night when Kurt opens them again.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Sebastian says when he hears Kurt stir. “I raised the volume on my phone in case I got a signal.”

“And?” Kurt inquires around a yawn.

“I think I’ve found him.”

“What time is it?” Kurt asks, starting conversation to ease the tension. He could check the time for himself. It’s right there on the dash.

If Sebastian isn’t too worried about Julian’s well-being, if things aren’t as serious as Kurt is beginning to fear they are, Sebastian will tease him about that.

But he doesn’t.

“Around nine,” Sebastian says. “We made really good time.”

Kurt sighs, that tight feeling in his chest becoming tighter with every mile marker they pass. “Sounds like it.”

A web of apprehension weaves its way around them both. Too much has been left in the air and it’s piling up. Kurt doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he does remember the phone calls Sebastian let go to voicemail, the text messages he didn’t pull over to read. They kept coming and coming, and Sebastian ignored them until they stopped.

Does Sebastian have the GPS tracking on his phone turned on? Are they in danger of the entire Smythe clan following them? Kurt doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to add to Sebastian’s stress, even if his own brain is about to melt from it.

Sebastian pulls into the small side lot of a place called The Draft Room. It’s not as big as the club in Columbus, but it’s a step up from Scandals. He parks in the first empty spot, turns off the car, and sits, staring at the brick wall in front of them. Kurt scans the lot in search of Julian’s Jag, but he doesn’t see it.

That doesn’t mean Julian isn’t there.

“Are you all right?” Kurt asks, reaching out a hand to caress Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Yes?” Sebastian says, but it’s another question, not an answer. “I … kind of don’t want to do this.”

“Do you want me to go? I can look around, see if he’s there, text you if he is.”

“No,” Sebastian says, overlooking the opportunity Kurt hands him to poke fun at his menace of a cell phone. That’s two for two. “No, it’d be best if we both went. Just … stay with me? Please?” Sebastian sounds so small when he asks. So timid.

So not like Sebastian.

Kurt takes his hand. He threads their fingers together, smiling as confidently as he can with his heart trying to tear out of his chest. “Always.”

***

The place is nowhere near crowded, so even if he wasn’t wearing the tightest jeans imaginable or a leather jacket that costs about as much as Kurt’s SUV, Julian is easy to spot from the front door, sitting at a stool dead center of the bar with no one else around, as if he wants to be easy to see.

Easy to find.

Sebastian walks through the front door as if he’s pushing himself from behind to make himself go. He slides up to Julian, bumps him with his hip, and slaps a hand on his shoulder. Julian jerks in his stool and looks up at him, smile vibrant, but when his eyes lock on to Sebastian’s, when he sees his brother there next to him, his smile falls.

“Hey, baby brother,” he says, knocking on the bar and signaling the bartender. The man steps up, filling Julian’s empty shot glass with whiskey.

“Hey, Jules,” Sebastian says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Ain’t it just?”

“You know, they have bars in North Carolina ...” Sebastian stares at Julian’s glass. Kurt doesn’t know whether he’s contemplating cutting Julian off, or knocking it back himself.

“True. But I didn’t come to Westerville to drink. I just sort of … ended up here.” Julian grabs the glass as if he knows it’s in danger, drinking down the whiskey in one gulp.

“I can see that,” Sebastian says with more sympathy than Kurt expected considering their impromptu, all-day drive. “How deep in are you?”

“Uh … I don’t know.” Julian picks up his empty shot glass and gazes into it, as if it holds the answer. “Two beers and two shots?” He wiggles the glass Sebastian’s way. “Wanna catch up?”

“No thanks. How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. Figures you’d be the one to find me.”

Sebastian shrugs. “I had help.”

Sebastian is referring to his phone, which he holds up as a visual. But Julian spots Kurt standing behind him, watching over his shoulder, and what remains of Julian’s grin - the miniscule shadow of it - dissolves.

“I didn’t give him an ultimatum,” Julian says, speaking straight to Kurt now, another human who understands the woes of falling in love with an Anderson brother. “I said that maybe inviting him to the beach house was going too far too fast. That maybe he felt like I was putting him on the spot. I told him that I would meet him half way. When I didn’t hear from him, I told him I was willing to meet him all the way …” Another shot appears, then disappears down Julian’s throat. “But he’s not coming. I know he’s not coming. I was an idiot to think he was, to think that everything was finally going to work out for us.”

“Maybe he’s just …” Kurt tries, but Julian shakes his head.

“I’ve looked for him everywhere. Called every number I ever had for him. Some of them have been disconnected for years, but I called them anyway. I even called the house.” Julian’s cheeks flush red, as if of all the things he’s done, this is the one he didn’t want to admit to. “Emily says he just … he just left. He didn’t pack a bag, didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Just pfft. Gone. I don’t know who got to him, but they got to him good.”

“I'm ... I’m so sorry,” Kurt says, his heart sinking when the light that always lingers in Julian's eyes, the one that blazes hot behind the ice blue of his irises, starts to burn low, threatening to go out.

“So many secrets …” Julian looks down at his phone clutched in his hand as if at any moment it might spring to life with a call or a text. “We’re so good at keeping secrets, aren’t we, Sebby?”

He pauses, and Kurt feels Sebastian go rigid beside him.

“Julian …”

Kurt has heard Sebastian say his brother’s name dozens of times, and in as many different ways.

He’s said it jokingly.

He’s said it seriously.

He’s spat it like a curse.

He’s said it with affection.

But this was a plea.

He was begging Julian to stop.

“We keep secrets from mom and dad," Julian continues to himself as if they aren't there, which means Sebastian’s pleas can’t reach him. "Secrets from Liv. Hell, the two of you kept the biggest secret of all. You even had me duped, though, apparently that isn't as hard as I thought.”

Julian laughs, dry and hollow, until it becomes a cough.

“Julian …” Sebastian repeats his plea softer, subconsciously searching for and taking Kurt's hand. He squeezes it tight, and Kurt can't help noticing how it shakes.

Julian shoots his brother a smirk, lifting a newly-filled shot glass in his fist in an unspoken toast and downing it in a single throw. He slams it down on the bar, the glass bottom hitting the wood with a poignant thunk.

“Now why haven’t you told him yet, Sebby?” he asks, mockingly upbeat the way depressed drunks sound when the liquor finally hits. This Julian is such a departure from the one Kurt normally sees – the suave and sophisticated sexy man whose every word speaks to Kurt’s artistic soul – that he might as well be a complete stranger. Someone who looks so much like Julian that from a distance on a cloudy day he could be mistaken for him, but turns out to not be him.

This transformation frightens Kurt, but Sebastian’s reaction to it concerns him more.

Sebastian squeezes Kurt’s hand a little too hard, arriving at a conclusion that Kurt doesn’t even realize exists.

“Tell me … tell me what?” Kurt asks Julian, then Sebastian. He would much rather hear it from Sebastian, but Julian gets to him first.

“Why it is that Sebastian went away,” Julian replies, talking to the wood grain in the bar, the bottom of his glass, everything but them. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Sebby. At least, if you tell him, he’ll know exactly how much of a bastard I really am, and you’ll never have to worry about losing him again. Not to me, anyway.”

That last part was meant as a joke, but to Kurt it feels more like a jab. Not at Kurt, and not at Sebastian. At himself. He’s skewering himself on his own metaphoric sword, one he’s been carrying around with him ever since whatever happened happened.

Whatever he’s about to say, he doesn’t expect Kurt to forgive him, or to speak to him ever again.

Kurt’s eyes meet Sebastian’s, but Sebastian isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at an insignificant speck on the bar, frozen to the spot.

Numb.

“Come on, Sebby …” Tears burn in Julian’s eyes that Kurt can hear in his voice. “You love him. He loves you. He should know, dont’cha think?”

Sebastian still can’t seem to answer. He’s paralyzed, mouth agape, unable to breathe a single word. Kurt has never seen Sebastian like this. Whatever Sebastian hasn’t told Kurt yet, whatever this pain is that the two of them hold on to, that the two of them share, Julian is getting ready to spill it. Kurt won't deny that he wants to know - he wants to help. But this is not how Kurt wants to find out.

He doesn’t want Julian outting his brother against his will.

“Julian, no,” Kurt says, even though he’s sure what he’s saying no to is the one thing he’s wanted to know all summer. “You can’t do this. You can’t hurt your brother like this. It’s not right.”

“No, Kurt! It’s my story, too!” Julian insists, unhinged. “And I … I need you to hear it, to try and forgive me because what I did made this …” He flicks a finger between Kurt and Sebastian “… so much harder for you! And you don’t deserve that!”

Julian had mentioned early on that Sebastian would never want to look weak or vulnerable. Kurt suspects they have that in common. Kurt wonders when the last time Sebastian saw his brother like this was. A while, he assumes, if the way Sebastian’s eyes widen are any indication.

“It’s … it’s fine.” Kurt’s voice is thick, on the verge of panic. He feels like he’s standing in the path of a runaway train with nowhere to run, no way to escape. “Really. Forget about it. I … I forgive you. It’s …”

Julian shakes his head. “Don’t, Kurt. You don’t understand. You can’t even conceive of how bad I hurt him …”

“Julian …” Kurt steps protectively in front of Sebastian, puts his free hand on Julian’s knee and squeezes, trying to break through his haze of whiskey and self-pity “… please, stop. I don’t need to know.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees in a voice so quiet, it can’t qualify as an actual sound. Kurt turns to look at his boyfriend, expecting him to be looking away, off in the distance like Julian, maybe down at his shoes. But he’s looking right at Kurt. “Yes, you do.”

Kurt shakes his head. This time, it's Kurt's turn to plead.

"Sebastian ..."

“That’s the spirit, baby brother,” Julian cuts in with a fake laugh and a halfhearted version of his trademark salute, which has been conspicuously missing the past week while he’s been brooding over Cooper. He takes his next shot off the bar and passes it to Sebastian. Kurt watches Sebastian sadly put the glass to his lips, snap his head back, and down the drink, a single tear racing down his cheek and getting lost in his hair. “Let’s tell our story together.”

Julian knocks on the bar as the bartender walks by and the man fills their glasses. He sets one out for Kurt without asking and fills that one, too. Kurt is so stunned he doesn’t have the wherewithal to wave the man away. On his end, the bartender doesn’t seem to mind that Kurt and Sebastian don’t look anywhere close to 21. He looks about as done with life as they all feel right now, or like the bouncer at Scandals when Kurt and Blaine first went, which would be a funny comparison any other time but now. Kurt wishes he could bring it up, break the tension, get a smile out of Sebastian, steer this conversation in a different direction.

But that would be beneath them.

“There was this … guy,” Julian begins, landing on that word as if the crux of their problems is always some guy. “Seb fell so hard for him, so fast. He called my brother all sorts of cutesy nicknames. They were so adorable together. Frankly, it made me kind of sick. But, in the spirit of brotherly love, I wanted to help Sebby land this boy, because back then, he had no game to speak of.” Julian grins with inappropriate wickedness. “And I mean no game. So I got them some fake IDs and I took them out drinking.” Another shot appears. Julian downs it. Just as quickly, it’s refilled. Kurt has lost count at this point. “It might have been love.” Julian’s brows draw together. “Was it?” He squints up at Sebastian, waiting for an answer. Sebastian downs another shot but says nothing. Julian shrugs. “I don’t know. It could have been. I mean, not the kind of love you guys have, but love. But right before we went out that evening, I got into a fight with Cooper, and I turned into an asshole.” He sputters. “Well, more of an asshole than usual, right, guys?” He pauses, snickers to himself, gets a little carried away, but he doesn’t sound like he’s enjoying his joke. He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. And he’s not doing that good a job. “I got them both drunk …” he explains, waving in the direction of the bar “… and then I went about seducing this poor boy of Seb’s.” He shakes his head, the look on his face one of revulsion. “Man, I pulled out all the stops for that kid. I really went overboard. And he fell for it – hook, line, and sinker. I may have made him fall in love with me.” He growls angrily, another shot flying down his throat. “Sebby, he got mad, sulked in a corner …” Another wave of his hand, this time in the direction of the jukebox sitting in a half circle of golden light “… had one too many to drink. He got real sick, went to the bathroom, and while he was in there, there was … there was a man ...” Julian hiccups.

Warning bells sound off in Kurt’s head, their clatter coursing through his body, carrying adrenaline with them, and now his hands begin to shake. “Don’t. Stop. I don’t think I should hear …”

“No,” Sebastian whispers, his voice raw, as if he’s been drinking nails instead of alcohol. “Let him … let him finish.”

Julian turns on his stool, eyes blurry as he stares off behind them. “When I got to them …” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking from the sides “… he had Sebastian pinned between the sinks, had his pants unzipped and his hand down them.” Julian’s voice shudders, gaze returning to his glass, glued as if he can see the memory in the reflection, playing before his eyes. It probably is, Kurt thinks. It probably plays back for him over and over when he shuts his eyes, when he drinks too much, every day that Sebastian was overseas … “He was trying to kiss him, k-kept saying …” Julian clears his throat so violently Kurt feels his own throat burn “… kept saying that he wanted to t-taste himself on Seb’s lips.”

And that’s the moment.

The moment when those alarms in Kurt’s head, and all that coursing adrenaline, build in his chest, and explode. With those words, Kurt’s entire body folds in on itself and freezes solid from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It creeps underneath his hair, makes his follicles itch as if bugs have been nesting there and are clawing to get out. A picture of Sebastian pinned against a bathroom wall like Kurt was with Max in that bar in Columbus fills Kurt’s brain. The man pinning Sebastian there Kurt fills in with the vilest human being his mind can conjure up. Now that that image is there, Kurt knows it’ll never leave him.

Like Sebastian and Julian, he’ll never be free of it.

But back in Columbus, when Max tried to assault Kurt, Sebastian was there. Sebastian saved him. Even though that memory enrages Kurt, it doesn’t paralyze him with fear.

A second later, he feels the phantom of Dave Karofsky’s mouth on his, and his knees nearly buckle beneath him.

“So …” Kurt says, “so, that man … he …”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says with his last bit of voice, the hand that’s been latched on to Kurt’s since Julian’s story began slipping away. “Big brother charged to the rescue about a minute too late.”

“Oh … oh God. Sebastian …” Kurt turns to his boyfriend, to hold him, but by the time Kurt realizes he’s leaving, he’s completely out of reach, weeding his way through the tables to get outside, find fresher air. Kurt turns back to Julian, but his gaze stops on a narrow door with a small rectangular sign nailed over the frame. It’s the door to the bathroom, directly in Julian’s sight line, which Kurt had overlooked since he thought Julian’s gaze was aimed nowhere. Julian glares at it like he’s fit to burn it down, and things suddenly fall into grooves and click.

This is the bar.

This is where Julian took them.

This is where it all happened.

That’s why Sebastian was so certain Julian would be here.

That’s why he didn’t want to come in.

“That’s what happened between the two of you?” Kurt stares at Sebastian’s back, fighting between running after him and giving him a minute to pull himself together. “That’s why Sebastian went to Paris? That’s why he stayed away for so long?”

“Yup.” Julian downs his next shot. Kurt’s and Sebastian’s, too, with such effortless fluidity, those glasses might as well have been full of water. “That’s the story of how big bad Julian Smythe let his brother down, lost his trust … and broke his heart.”

***

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks when he finds Sebastian standing by the curb, staring at his shoes while he teeters on the edge. Kurt had been practicing those three words while walking through the bar towards the door. He didn’t want his voice to crack, needed to stamp out the tears pressing behind his eyes. He didn’t want Sebastian comforting him, which he would if he thought Kurt was upset. Kurt needs to remove his own feelings from this equation.

He needs to remain neutral and help his boyfriend.

He’d considered stopping into the restroom and splashing water on his face, but no. He wants to stay miles away from there. He can’t see it. He can’t know what it looks like. Speculating is fine. Intrusive thoughts he can handle when they’re figments of his own imagination. But reality …

Reality will split Kurt apart.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Sebastian says, looking over and around Kurt instead of landing on his face. His eyes are red, but it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Kurt imagines he’s been out here pressing the tips of his fingers into his eyelids, trying to erase the last ten minutes from his brain. And Kurt doesn’t blame him. “I’m good. I found Julian’s car, so I called for a tow.” His gaze flicks down the street, avoiding Kurt’s eyes with the pretense of checking for the truck. “He’s in no condition to drive home so I thought, you know, we should take him. If you don’t mind. I mean, he’s not the best driver when he’s sober.” Sebastian chuckles uncomfortably. Kurt watches his face stagger between holding it together and falling apart. “Besides, I … I don’t think he should be alone. He needs someone to take care of him.”

“I don’t mind.” Kurt is dying to touch Sebastian, to hold him. At the very least, to take his hand. But he’ll wait for Sebastian to come to him. Kurt doesn’t know where Sebastian’s mind is right now. Is it here, standing on the street, talking to him? Or is it in that bathroom long ago - scared, confused, praying for his brother to come find him and rescue him? “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Speaking of Julian …” Sebastian looks anxiously over his shoulder to the front door of the bar, as if expecting Julian to appear. “Where is he?”

“I helped him into a booth by the window.” Kurt points, re-directing Sebastian’s attention to the plate glass next to the door. At a round, wooden table where they can keep an eye on him, Julian sits, head resting on his folded arms, a glass filled with more ice than water melting by his right elbow. “I thought it would be best to keep him where I could see him. I paid the bartender twenty bucks not to give him another drink.”

“Ahhh. You’ve done well, Padawan,” Sebastian says with a wink. “But you didn’t have to do that. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. Haven’t you heard? I’m rich.”

Sebastian snorts, worrying his lower lip with his teeth like he’s itching to remind Kurt that having a $10,000 cashier’s check at his disposal doesn’t necessarily make him rich, especially when it’s going to go straight to the bank, then straight out again to NYADA.

“I called Liv,” he says instead. “Told her we found Julian. And where.”

“How did she react?”

“I think she kinda knew. We’ve been wrapped up in the ongoing saga that is the Juliper rom-dram. We know how it plays out by now.”

Bizarrely syncopated steps approaching interrupt their conversation. Sebastian finds their owner, his eyes staying with him when he sees him coming their way. Kurt thinks he might be the tow truck driver looking for him, but a longer look says he’s not. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, flip-flops of all things, and he’s smoking a cigarette. Kurt waves a hand in front of his nose, making no effort to hide his disgust, but Sebastian puts up a hand, getting the man’s attention.

“Hey,” he says, “can I bum one of those?”

“Sure,” the man says.

Kurt pulls a face. One of what? he thinks. He can’t possibly mean …?

The man stops walking and reaches into his back pocket for his pack. He shakes out a single cigarette and offers it to Sebastian, who takes it, thanking him under his breath. The man pulls out a blue BIC lighter and flicks it. Sebastian puts the cigarette between his lips. He leans towards the lighter with a hand cupped over the flame, taking a few long drags to get it going. Sebastian steps back, blows a long plume of gray smoke into the air.

“Thanks,” he says.

Kurt stares at him the way primitive man must have stared at the first eclipse. His thoughts go immediately to how bad that is for Sebastian’s lungs, how awful it is for his health!

But watching him a while, sucking on that cigarette like he’s a seasoned smoker, Kurt’s second thought is how unbelievably sexy he looks.

He’s not proud of that thought, but there it is nonetheless.

“No problem,” the man says, continuing on his way. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Sebastian takes another drag along with a bigger step back, doing his best to keep the smoke away from Kurt’s personal space. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then another drag. “This isn’t an all the time thing,” he says without opening his eyes, not interested in seeing any judgement from Kurt, Kurt figures. “This is a once-in-a-blue-fucking-moon thing. The last cigarette I had … I don’t even fucking remember. It wasn’t this year, I don’t think.” Sebastian lowers his hand and flicks the filter of the cigarette with his thumb, sending spent ash to the cement. “I need something to calm me down and I … I don’t want to go looking for anything stronger. I need to drive.”

Kurt sighs, oddly disappointed in himself at Sebastian’s need to find anything stronger to calm him down. “I understand.”

Sebastian opens a single eyelid. The look he gives Kurt isn’t a glare, but it comes close. “What’s with the sigh?”

Kurt is about to admit that he’d rather be the thing Sebastian turns to for comfort, but he squashes that comment quickly. This isn’t about him. Not a single bit. There is something else on his mind. Something that bothers him more. “You grew up too fast,” he says sadly.

The hand with the cigarette traveling up to Sebastian’s mouth stutters to a halt, Sebastian staring at it as if he’s never really looked at one before. He flicks it again, sends more ash and a few sparks to the ground. “You’re probably right,” he concludes, bringing the cigarette all the way to his lips. He takes a drag, avoids commenting further. “Anyway,” he says when enough time has passed to change the subject, “I told her that we’re probably going to stay the day here because I’m …” He chuckles again, that same uncomfortable laugh that tiptoes on the borders of crying “… I’m just plain wiped out.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Kurt agrees even though he can’t see himself sleeping after this. His body is running on adrenaline, his mind racing with images and thoughts and questions. So many fucking questions. They’re maintaining out here with tasks they have to accomplish and Julian whom they have to get home safely. What is it going to be like when they’re alone in a quiet house and a dark bedroom? The same dark bedroom, Kurt assumes, that Sebastian had to return to after he was assaulted.

“Good. That’s good.” Sebastian takes a drag and doesn’t say another word. Kurt doesn’t either. Every single word he has fails him, disappearing when he needs them most. Sebastian takes a longer than normal pull on his cigarette, then crushes the tip underneath the toe of his shoe while he blows the last of the smoke away. He ditches the butt in a nearby trash can, brushes the ash off his hands. He shoves them deep into his pockets, staring down at the smooth, beige cement. “Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I know I probably don’t smell all that stellar at the moment, not after that but … would you mind …” Sebastian’s voice cracks and his face screws up. He tilts his head to the sky, breathes in hard through his nose “… can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” Kurt says, almost barreling into Sebastian’s embrace.

Sebastian extends an arm, opens himself up to Kurt, and Kurt steps into it. Sebastian wraps his arms around him and holds him, huddled in the safety and security of Kurt’s arms.

Together they wait in each other’s arms until the tow truck arrives.

#acitw #acitw au #kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #spread the love #two chapter left

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chromatic-lamina · 4 years

Text

law and robin brotp fanfic excerpt

Again, from a longer darker multi-chaptered piece, though the excerpt isn’t dark. The below is a T-rating at the most. The fic isn’t though, so I won’t link. This is a post-canon world where Luffy is the pirate king. Law is recovering at Robin’s from Doflamingo menace. Benn is a lawyer in this post-canon world. The content fairly light. The Franky joke is an ongoing thing throughout this story. This scene is set before the (platonic) lawbin I posted previously. Enjoy (but excuse the shitty graphics. Sorry).

It was just as well she knew him so well. He smelled of grass, sun and the aftertaste of fear; the sting of anger, and the warmth of protection as the neighbour's two year old dog snuggled into the crook of his arm and rested his snout on his chest.

The dog lifted his head and sneezed twice, spraying Robin with canine snot, before lowering his jaw flat onto Law again.

Robin was pushed up against Law's shoulder on the grass. He'd shambled her there as she'd stepped out to hang clothes on the line, deciding to do it herself rather than using her fruit. Now her fruit was busy though, sorting through the pegs, and colour-coding them to the garments. She should've just engaged it in the first place. The work ethic was overrated.

"He's sorry," Law said, scritching the pup's hard head.

Robin looked across at the dog, so at ease on the surgeon's chest, so unaware that there was anything wrong with sneezing all over her.

"No he's not."

Law smiled into the sun.

"And neither are you," she added.

Law loosened his jaw. He couldn't get too warm on this day. As much sun as he soaked up, he needed more.

"Comfortable there, Nico-ya?" He freed his arm from between them, the other loosely on the pup, and folded it around her shoulders. "You find my company distasteful?"

"What would Franky say?" she asked. Law's shirt had the faint scent of cigarettes. He smoked when he was stressed, otherwise he preferred rollies packed with leaf. A mild buzz. On occasion.

"Robo-ya and I are in an open relationship," Law murmured. "I don't think he'd mind."

Relief prickled through her like the lawn pushing against her blouse. He still had it. Could still joke, step beyond everything that the media, Doflamingo, his own psyche, damned him by.

"You gonna survive this one, Flevance?"

Law looked up at the sky. A clear beautiful blue, not a cloud in sight. He could be hopeful on days like this. Doflamingo was all about entrance and show. No clouds to lasso eased air flow. "Yeah." The dog let out a small growl as Law changed position. He patted its fur absently.

Robin's fruit hands finished hanging the clothes. She set them to work picking up fallen leaves. Dumped them in the garden bag against the fence.

She lifted her fingers to his warm hand draping her shoulder. Inked fingers slinked through her own. "He almost killed you, Law. Being poorly judged by the town when he's ensured you're a pariah seems light punishment."

He ran his thumb over the mound of her wrist. Didn't answer. Doflamingo had almost killed him. He loosened his grip and sat up, looking down at his friend, her dark hair spread over the grass, a spare hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

"What're you doing lounging down there? Didn't you have work to do?"

"Heh."

Since Law was up the dog was too. He wandered with a far too enthusiastic swing of his tail to Robin and licked her cheek. She sprouted a few hands and held the pup's wriggly hips, the appendage shading her forehead dispersing.

"Don't break his ribs."

As if.

"Whaddya call that hold?"

"Soothing the savage beast." She calmed the dog and Law's lap looked as good as any bed to lie in. It clumsily tripped over and lay down again.

"Sleepy, little fella?" The surgeon flicked the ears, velvet like a tanned animal hide, between his fingers. The dog shook his head in a twitchy muddle.

Robin had seen him tease Bepo the same way.

"Guess I'll run," he said.

She sighed.

"Fight?" He didn't know why he was playing for Robin's approval. He glanced her way a second.

"You shouldn't have to."

"Kill?"

"You have to ask?"

Law leaned backwards, his arms behind him. "I'm a doctor. Really hate taking life."

"Seems you're the only one who remembers that."

Law glanced disinterestedly at his upper arms. "Think it's the tatts that do it? Scream serial killer to you?"

"Murderous thug. Sewer rat. Something like that. Yeah."

"Thieving magpie?"

"You're giving magpies a bad name."

"True, they're beautiful birds." He straightened, ran his thumbnail across a bottom incisor. Liked to reassure himself of the thickness, the tactility of being. "Think I should change careers, assassin?"

"You want to be one or you insulting me?"

"Praising, Nico-ya. I only hang out with the best."

"We'll help, you know. Everyone will help."

"And then when Luffy lets them off with a pardon?"

"Don't talk with your mouthful."

Law removed his thumb, repeated himself. Wiped his hand on his jeans leg.

Ah yeah, maybe not everyone could be redeemed, she thought.

"Legal process?" Law asked.

"Benn?"

"There's few better."

Clutched. Law only imagined that word when he removed hearts and when he'd seen Robin use the technique to break necks. Twinge. Was twinge a better word? Something below the sternum twinged. Benn's cigarette shroud, swaggering flintlock, and easy confidence. His skyrocket intellect. His confidence in Law. He'd been skirting the idea of contacting him.

"Shanks and Benn helped out before." Not that he wanted to drag himself through the cesspit of memory he'd fled to find protection.

Robin knew. "Law."

"Mmm?" His back was sore. He tipped to his side, head on his elbow, spilling the dog onto the lawn again. It scratched at the ground and ambled next door, back home, tail lazily wagging. Law patted at the dust kicked onto his thigh.

"Remember at Punk Hazard, Caesar squeezing your heart and..."

"Hurt like a motherfucker."

"But you survived it. Pretty easily."

"Hah. You shoulda seen the after-party with Vergo. If Smoker hadn't returned it dunno how things would've gone."

"But you tackled all that, you did all that, your art installation, screwing with Smoker's crew, screwing with our crew, taking on Vergo, without a freaking heart. You sliced up those yeti monsters, got us out of that cage. And it was hollow in here." She tapped her own chest.

"You getting metaphorical on me?"

"You and Zoro are the gold medalists of ennui, we get that. But neither of you are lacking here." She thumped her chest again.

"Neither Zoro nor I are anywhere near as well-endowed." Law rolled onto his back again.

"Fool. You been hanging out with Sanji and Brook?"

"Those nosebleeds of his are fascinating." He placed his hand on his body and felt the steady ba-da-boom behind his bazoomless chest. "There are limits to my powers, but yeah, they're pretty awesome."

"Fight them. Whichever way. Nowadays it doesn't have to be blood and guts. Don't let them get away with it.

"Call Benn."

#one piece #platonic lawbin #lawbin #trafalgar law #nico robin #one piece fanfiction #opfanfic #op fanfic #my writing #my stuff #hope it makes some sense #chromalami

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like-i-need-a-hole-in-my-head · 3 years

Text

Jan 1

I was asleep early last night. I woke up early, found warm clothes because a cold front came down from the north, made some coffee and fed the dogs. They love this time of year because there are SO MANY people food scraps that I mix with their food. Today they got the chicken that I scraped off the bone that wasn’t pretty enough to put in front of guests a few days ago. I took them out to do their business, sat in the sun and cold air, noticed the sun on the hill behind my house, and enjoyed the quiet. Now I’m sitting at the table with a bowl of homemade vegetable soup (nice and thick, mmm) and a slice of bread and butter. I think about life every single day, and every single day I make a choice to keep going. January is going to be awful. I don’t have the Gift, but I see things and sometimes I know too much in advance. So I use moments like this - quiet, solitary, nourishing both literally and metaphorically - and I prepare. Because sometimes that’s all we can do.

#wham

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twigstarpikachutroll22 · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 301-500 followers, mate! If you were gonna give a thank you speech, what'd you say?

*stands at a podium with a typed and printed speech I’ve been working on for over a year*

*taps the mic, clears throat, and begins*

It’s teleporting into creepy dystopias and confusing the heck out of random people hours.

Before this gets serious, you should know that I like to dance naked in front of car lots.

And then I said, who died and made YOU queen of the pastas? I don’t care if it’s what all the cool worms are wearing, I am NOT putting you in a tiny leather jacket! I do not control the speed at which lobsters die. Kids, if you’re gonna let the cave duck skateboard in the house, he should at least be wearing a helmet! Excuse me! Where can I find the glowing, flying, self-folding napkins?

Glug glug glug, my face is a bug! I eat ants for breakfast right off the ruuuuuuuuug!!

Oh, Vanessa, thank goodness you're here! A platypus has tied me up in my own pants! I was having sex with a bagel. The sheep were trying to sing in French. Hey, are you dead? Why weren’t you at elf practice????

The trees are really sneezing today.

To be, or not to be. That is the question.

It’s an avocado! Thanks!

When I look to the sky, all I see is Bob Ross staring down at me. According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to stuff breadsticks into my purse. So my foot’s totally stuck in there right, I’m freaking out, the dog’s having a seizure, and I still got half a pie left. Sometimes, a man has to steal an animatronic badger to stay in this crazy game called life. Just dump it right there, next to that giant gorilla head. I’m in a heated existential discussion with this dead-eyed plastic desk toy. Hey! Got any grapes?

…Who ya callin’ pinhead? ‘Tis I, the frenchiest fry! I am the spirit of the fart. A question mark wrapped in a conundrum swallowed up by a four-legged starfish. I am the terror that flaps in the night. I am the overstuffed burrito that spills onto the lap of crime! I am to metaphor cheese as metaphor cheese is to transitive verb crackers. I cry tears of lemonade. I’ve seen your death in my mind. I am a space alien and I have FOUR BUTTS! Also, I am a robot monkey. And my head is made out of blueberry pizza! I’m ugly and I’m proud! Your hot dog is no match for my bratwurst! I have the power of god and anime on my side! I do not like green eggs and ham. Fun fact: This smile is currently masking an internal storm of terror and unease! And I will not ever, NEVER, eat a tomato!

Girls? Can you explain why I look like I'm getting married at the bottom of a pit?

By the way, Kevin, a potato flew around my room before you came. Excuse the mess it made. Your wax figures turned out to be evil so we fought them to the death! I decapitated Larry King. And Frederico fell into a pile of brownie batter! The poor engineer didn’t know what happened. Are you feeling it now, Mr. Krabs? That’s so fetch. I was wiping away my tears with the memes you made. #LitPokemonGoToThePolls! Mmm-mmm, chicken. I kinda feel like flexing on you because I get to be Deez Nuts. Excuse me, could you please leave? Thanks Pete. I’ve met God, he had nothing nice to say about you.

My only friend in the whole wide world is a hippo named BOOBOOBUTT.

I call THIS straw...Fernando.

Please stop attacking that wig!

The candlestick thinks you’ve been hogging the spotlight. He’s going solo.

You know, mummies have their brains pulled out of their nose. Do you think horses get songs stuck in their heads? Songs are like hugs that mouths give to ears! I’d like to be tree. Why don’t you try scrapbooking them to freedom? Michael, close your mouth. We are not a codfish.

George Washington never knew dinosaurs. Common sense is a weakness. Tea? In the microwave? Are you a savage? Bond. HYDROGEN bond. It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. Taste the rainbow! He doesn’t understand your funky-fresh ways. Albert Einstein never wore socks. Why should I? Caution: Falling cows. There’s a world/galaxy/universe to save here and I don’t care if I do it “with love” or with an AK-47. Don’t be a transphobe, Chad. Open the goozack. Shut the goozack. Lock the goozack. Let’s go shoot some monkeyflippers.

D’you ever notice that clapping is basically just repeatedly high fiving yourself? If a guy clones himself and sings a song with his clone, does it count as a duet? What if graphite pencils are racist against colored pencils?

Ohh, I made a sweatshop again?! How does this keep happening?!?!?!

You don’t think the lobster is lying to you.

SHUT UP, HEATHER! It’s my unbirthday too! I wanna be a ghost story!! Did you just boot my stroller? Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow! When I kill God, I'll make a law in the universe that makes every being put carrots on their sandwiches. They have to do it. They can't eat a sandwich without carrots. And you? You will eat sandwiches every day. Keep the change, ya filthy animal.

And don’t forget the kitchen sink!

My very educated mother just sat upon nine pizzas (SPLAT). The lady doth protest too much, methinks. She has no personality. She doesn’t remember who I am. Little slappy? Make daddy happy? If she can draw naked men, she can eat flan. Pets will be electric in 20 years. Hey, sorry for accusing you of murder last week.

Beep, beep. I’m a sheep. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. I don’t like boys i just wanna dance like a lizard.

If I had one wish in the world right now, I would wish that every hamster in the world would get their own personal fanny pack.

Yer a wizard, Harry. Now, you must acquire a taste for...freeform jazz.

I met a ghost once. He helped me find a dog. Sadly, he was just captured in the midst of his latest plan to set fire to the sun. Pain is hilarious! Potato girl has her life goals in order. Lawn gnome beach party of taffeta, make a note of that. All hail planet nine, the celestial potato. Are you talking about teaching asparagus to sing? Poppy, I speak WORM. It’s a romance language. These are NOT worms.

Filthy toilet! You’re dead, fluff butt.

Ring a king a bees will sting so dance a timba tumba!

Whose fault is it? The guy who ran the red light? Or the mesopotamian dude who invented the wheel? Is this the Krusty Krab? No, this is Patrick. What the heck is a polar bear??? Do I look like I speak squirrel? Do not cuss with me, you donkey butt faced son of an Umbridge. I am a magical unicorn dragon duck potato panda troll and I will vomit rainbows upon you. I will de-bone you like a fish! I am like glitter: always there, and never just where you tried to put me, shining regardless. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Ya like Jazz?

She can cut that cheese.

It’s a crowd favorite. Everybody loves a good jazz square. Is this a pigeon? Worm off the string, what crimes will he commit? Vegetables are a social construct. And also your eyebrowses. We are not the crispy breads of your breakfast! And there is no queen of England! Rules and schools and tools are for fools, I don’t give two mules for rules! Hippity hoppity, get off my property! You like Krabby Patties, don’t you Squidward?

OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

If life hands you lemons, carve them into tiny ships and allow a colony of ants to live out their dream of becoming pirates. Or staring at your parents while they sleep.

Love is like a beautiful flower… but it can also be dangerous, like a tiger, with a gun. Nature is like a runaway dump truck: hot, fast, and full of garbage. There’s a beating heart in everything… except lawyers, zombies and jellyfish. Nothing feels as good as the moment right before you break something. Nothing says “mother’s love” like a giant robotic platypus butt. There’s no “I” in “crab.” Every girl’s a princess. Some of them just have fancier crowns. When in doubt, button mash! Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain! Everybody’s been turned into an apple. It’s a part of growing up. WEAR A WATCH! Time is a precious thread in the fabric of the universe. It deserves its own tool of measurement! Pudding makes a terrible hat! Adults are just kids, with much, MUCH bigger toys. Do not shake someone’s hand when they’re glowing. Oh, and NEVER trust a person who refuses to believe in unicorns.

Whoop, shark attack! Nom nom nom! Jellyfiiish! Hand sandwich! Turkey! Snowman! Dolphin! Helicopter! Last supper! Monkey in a zoo! What? Gear shift! Splleerrch! Uuurrrt! Eerrrt! Uuuuuhuht!

If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves. That’s very important. Shmebulock. There’s no need to call me sir, Professor.

Fly free, little Mah-ri-sol! Be free!!

My nipples are a mystery.

Ah! One feels like a duck, splashing around in all this wet! And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!

Shut up! You’re all gonna die! Street smarts! I hate the trucks that look like they got childbearing hips. Who uses that emoji? Satan worshippers. That’s who. 15 minutes could save you 15% or more on car insurance.

Why be mad? Just because it brings out the color of my eyes? Not worth it!

Grandma sent you an angel moth from outer space? Pudge controls the weather. Hide the coconuts! Is mayonnaise an instrument? Bees burn their enemies to death while group hugging them. I want a flugelhorn! Did his belly button get taken by the thunder god? Please stop touching my head. I wanna know if anyone else has experienced being pierced by a hair strand. Steve, I’m ending our affair! Your pig is ugly. And you know what else? I’ve never liked your spinach puffs. Never! I’ll explain, and I’ll use small words, so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog-faced buffoon.

If I were you, I would try to change a lot more before you become a renegade fugitive from justice, hiding in the woods, dressing up like a bear, and stealing candy from children. You wear a helmet in the shower one time and you get labeled for life. Life sucks sometimes. But at least there’s pizza. And at the end I give birth to a bowling ball!

A dog met a mouse in my kitchen. They became friends. Draco Malfoy has definitely tried to fight santa. I am a little black cat and god is dropping a piece of ham on me.

DID YOU KILL EMINEM???

Don't worry, Twilight. I have eyepatches stashed all over Ponyville, in case of an eyepatch emergency.

I’m calling mom! And I am NOT using the banana this time!

Do you rodents think you can handle a semicircle?

How much do deer testicles cost, Dave? Enlighten me.

Ohh, why isn’t my invisible truck working?

Why did you bring a gun to the livestream???

Why did I let a convicted war criminal practice energy healing on me?

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

Why are bugs always pregnant?

Peter why are you not plural.

Why dO mY nOSTRILs whISPer To Meeee?

Some questions are best left unanswered.

Well divide me by zero and call me a syntax error! My cat has seen something strange.

Glorp zub banana! There’s a party in my tummy! A SEA MONSTER ATE MY ICE CREAM!!! I tried talking to them, but there was a dustbuster, a toupee, and a life raft exploded! Now one’s bald, one’s in a boat, and they’re both unconscious! Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today! As the children of divorced parents often say...TWO CHRISTMASES! Let’s go get this bread! Let’s go destroy our feelings! We've got to lead that corn colossus away from those back up singers! For truth, justice, and all that is pre-shrunk and cottony!

Tra-la-LAAAAA!

The future...is in the past! Onwards, Aoshima!! Infinite squared degrees to the elephant! Increase the D! Release the baby! No Troll left behind! Campe Diem! Purple dragon yo-yo ball! No fruit calls in my class! Swiper, no swiping! Oh, good! My dog found the chainsaw! KING BOB!!! On with the show and off with their heads! Shrimp! Heaven! Now! Aaaah!! Grandma’s vacuum cleaner!!

You may make the sandwich, but the sandwich you eat makes who you are.

Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be disappearing back into the shadows. I don’t wanna live on this planet anymore. Goodbye, everyone, I’ll remember you all in therapy. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!

Remember, reality’s an illusion the universe is a hologram buy gold BYYYE!!

*tosses confetti, steps aside and does an overdramatic flourishing bow, then twirls and skips away*

#imma have to come back to collect that confetti again later #itsedgelord666iamcoal

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