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ladyfogg · 3 years

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Heal My Wounds - Part 1

Heal My Wounds - Part 1 of 3

Fic Summary: After you meet the infamous Kit Walker, you realize that he cannot possibly be guilty of everything they say he is. Determined to treat him with kindness and compassion, you end up falling hard for the handsome man with gorgeous dark eyes. But you both are playing a dangerous game and you must decide just how far you’re willing to go to save the man you love. Part 2. AHS Masterlist.

Fic Rating: 18+

Fic Song: War by Poets of the Fall

Pairing: Kit Walker/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut, Slow Burn, tw: mental illness, tw: asylum setting, tw: violence

A/N: I ended up finishing this a lot quicker than I thought I was going to. Enjoy! For @tatestripedsweater and @kitwalker02.

You’ve seen many things during your time at Briarcliff. Being a nurse, you deal with truly awful alignments, either self-inflicted or acquired under “mysterious” circumstances. This usually means that a guard roughed the patient up or Dr. Arden can’t be bothered to treat them himself. You learn to expect the worst, not in the patient but in what they are afflicted with. In truth, your heart goes out to every one of them. Regardless of what sent them to Briarcliff, it is always your mission to treat them with the respect and dignity they deserve.

Which is why, when you hear that the infamous Bloody Face, aka Kit Walker, has been transferred to the asylum, you try not to be concerned. You knew all about Bloody Face and what he’s done and when they arrested Kit, you aren’t ashamed to admit that your first thought was, “Good riddance!” However, you force yourself to change your tune once you learn you’ll be treating him at some point. Plenty of dangerous people had come and gone through Briarcliff’s doors. You aren’t going to treat him any differently than you would the other patients.

No matter how dangerous he is.

It isn’t long before you find yourself face-to-face with him. He is there less than a day before he’s brought in to see you, his lip and his nose a bloody mess, the red a stark contrast to his pale skin. His appearance surprises you even though it shouldn’t. You read the papers; you’ve seen his face. Yet, in person, he’s so handsome it takes your breath away and you need a moment to compose yourself.

“What happened?” you ask Kit as the guard forces him to sit on the bed. He is bound with cuffs and chains, an overkill if you ever saw one.

“He got into a scrape with another inmate,” the guard says in a gruff voice. “Bloody Face here got the worst of it.”

“They’re called patients, not inmates,” you correct him with a glare. “And I wasn’t asking you, I was asking Mr. Walker. That is his name, that's what he will be called while he’s under my care.”

The guard, whose name you think is Hardy, looks taken aback by your words. He is a new one who hasn’t had to deal with you yet. While many of the female staff are nuns, you are not. You are there purely for medical purposes, not religious ones. Therefore, you have no reason to force politeness to the guards. After all, why should you? They never show you any. The sooner Hardy learns you will not tolerate his bullshit, the better.

You have been talked to by Sister Jude several times regarding your attitude but since you are appointed by the state, there is nothing more she can do. Eventually, the both of you came to a mutual understanding. In fact, you suspect she admires your non-nonsense attitude as it most often gets results. If there is a patient in your infirmary, you can call the shots. Of course, the male guards don’t like that, but they can get fucked.

When you turn back at Kit, he has a surprised look on his face.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” you ask.

“Just my face,” he answers. “And my hands.”

You glance down and see his bruises and bloody knuckles. Clearly, he defended himself but given the fact that the other patient hasn’t been brought it, you assume Kit got the worst of it. You go about collecting what you need to disinfect his wounds.

To Hardy, you say, “Remove his chains.”

“No can do. Not for this one.”

“His knuckles are bleeding, and I need to examine his hands to make sure nothing is broken or fractured. Remove his chains.”

There is an intense stare-off between you and the guard before he relents and unbinds Kit. Once his restraints are gone, you wave Hardy off. “You may step outside.”

“Now hold on a minute! This man—”

“Has rights. He deserves the same privacy as every other patient. Besides, I won’t have you getting in my way while I patch him up. You can step outside and wait. I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

Hardy snorts, annoyed and done with arguing. “Fine by me. Don’t complain if you get killed.”

“I won’t, considering if that happens, I won’t be able to. Or are you not aware how death works?”

With a sneer, he stalks away, and you heard him mutter, “Stupid bitch.” under his breath.

“Smart bitch actually,” you call after him. “And shut the door on your way out, please.” It slams behind him and you return your attention to your patient.

Kit looks at you with awe. “Forgive me for saying so, doc. But you’re one tough broad.”

You laugh, pulling a chair over so you can sit in front of Kit. “I’m not a doctor, I’m a nurse. And you have to be though, especially in this place. The gentle don’t last long. Now, let’s take a look at those hands.”

Kit extends his hands, and you take them in your own, examining his wounded knuckles. After moving each finger and his wrists, you determine there was nothing broken or fractured so you set about cleaning the scrapes. Kit watches you the entire time. Even though you don’t look up from your work, you can feel his eyes on you.

“I think you’re the only person in this place who’s not afraid of me,” he says after a stretch of silence. “This is the first time I’ve been treated like a person since this whole thing started.”

“Should I be afraid of you, Mr. Walker?” you glance up and are immediately taken in by the soft expression on his face.

“Call me Kit,” he says. “And I never hurt anybody. All the things they say I did are lies. I have no idea what happened to those girls and I have no idea what happened to Alma other than they took her.”

You consider his words for a moment and pull away, letting his hands fall to his lap. The bloody towel you hold is tossed onto your tray of supplies before you sit back and cross your arms. “Alright then, Kit. Tell me why I should believe you.”

Kit doesn’t seem to know what to say at first. You’ve dealt with numerous patients who swear up and down they didn’t do what they were accused of. Most of them had. Because of that, you are pretty damn good at reading people because even the best liar has a tell. An eye twitch, a knee bounce, a lip bite…anything. You trained yourself to look for these things because, in your line of work, it means the difference between life or death.

The man in front of you doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything. More to the point, you don’t feel scared of him. You aren’t made of stone; you feel fear just like everyone else. You are simply better at masking it. However, that violent vibe you’ve learned to sense doesn’t radiate from Kit and as you look into his deep brown eyes, all you see is fear, frustration, anger, and sadness. They all pass one after another on a loop.

“I don’t have a reason,” Kit finally says after a long pause. “If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t believe me either. But you showed me kindness no one else has and I’m grateful. Really.”

“I think this place wouldn’t be half as bad as those colleagues of mine showed a little kindness too.” You go back to work, cleaning his hands. “This is going to sting a bit.”

Kit flinches as you pour alcohol over his cuts. Carefully, you clean them some more before you are sure they won’t get infected. Once that’s done, you wrap them in bandages.

“There, good as new. Just try to keep those bandages dry for a bit. You can take them off tomorrow to let the cuts breathe. Let me make sure your nose isn't broken.”

Kit remain still as you gently cup his face, turning his head left to right in order to take stock of his injuries. Being so close, you realize how handsome he truly is. That jawline is to die for, and his dark curls looks so soft, you want to run your fingers through them. Once that thought entered your brain, you scold yourself. He is your patient and is in the asylum to see if he is fit to stand trial for murder. Thinking about him in any way other than professional is a dangerous game. And very stupid.

“That bad huh?” Kit asks with a slight smirk.

It isn’t a malicious one by any means. In fact, it’s almost hesitant. Like he is afraid to be so comfortable joking with you. You don’t blame him considering what he has gone through. You offer him a smile in return.

“Just a split lip and it doesn’t look like your nose is broken. It’s not even swollen. There shouldn’t be any permanent damage.”

You grab a fresh towel and dip it in warm water before gingerly cleaning the blood from his face. But before you can get far, Kit reaches up to stop you. Instinctively you freeze, worried that you may have hurt him. Maybe his nose is worse off than you originally thought?

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

Kit shakes his head. “No, I’m just…” He pauses as if he’s not sure what to say next. “I’m sorry but I just...why aren’t you scared of me?"

“You really want me to be, don’t you?”

“What? No! Of course not. I’m just…” He stops when he sees you holding back a smile. “You’re messing with me.”

You shrug and go back to your work. “A little,” you admit. “But to answer your question, I’m not scared of you because I believe you. I don’t think you killed or even hurt anyone. I just don’t sense that sort of evil in you. As for what you claim to have witnessed, that I don’t know about. But I do know crazy, Kit Walker. And you’re not it.”

It is like the remaining tension leaves his body and Kit slumps against you, a few tears running down his cheeks. Without thinking, you pull him into a tight hug, letting him rest his weary head on your shoulder. The warmth of him is invigorating and you savor the feeling. It’s been a long time since you’ve been touched in any way. Long work hours make your social life non-existent and you carefully keep your distance with your patients.

Except Kit, it seems. You don’t know why your well-constructed walls are crumbling under the weight of one interaction with one man.

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he says, his voice muffled by your uniform. “No one will listen. No one believes…”

“I’m listening. But first, sit back before you get blood all over me.”

With a weak laugh, Kit pulls away. He wipes the tears with the back of his hand which you’re grateful for because you were about two seconds away from gently brushing them away. Pulling yourself together, you continue to clean his face while he tells you his story. It’s definitely strange. The idea of being abducted and probed was one you’d rather not think about.

But you don’t just listen to his words, you watch his expression, pay attention to the tone of his voice and his body language. Even though you’ve heard some of it through the papers, it’s different hearing it from him directly. Once he’s done, you’re even more certain he didn’t kill anyone. No one who talks about their missing wife that softly and heart felt could possibly be a vicious serial killer.

It’s his eyes that give him away. There’s so much emotion and depth, you can’t help but believe him. You wish you can explain it, but some things are beyond explanation.

“You sure I’m not crazy?” Kit asks when you don’t respond to him right away.

“After that story, you’re absolutely batshit.”

He chuckles when he realizes you aren’t serious. You pull your hand away, finally done getting rid of all the blood, but he stops you with a gentle touch to your wrist. “Thank you for listening. I could tell you weren’t judging when I spoke, and I appreciate it. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

“It’s not my place to judge. Only heal.” You sit back, breaking all contact with him, hoping it’ll clear your spinning head. “There. Now you’re just as handsome as you were before. Do me a favor and at least try not to get majorly hurt again for the rest of the day?”

“He started it.”

“Everyone always starts things here. And given your current situation, it’s best to keep your head down as much as possible.”

“What’s the point? They’ve already made up their minds about me being guilty,” Kit says bitterly as you roll your tray over to the sink. He sees a pack of cigarettes on your desk and nods towards them. “Mind if I have one?”

You wave for him to go ahead as you clean up. “I wish I had words of encouragement for you. I wish I could say it will all work out. But unless they catch the real Bloody Face, your choices are either here or the electric chair.”

Kit pops a cigarette in his mouth and lights the end. “I have to see the state-appointed shrink. My last hope is to convince some head doctor that I’m not crazy.”

Your heart goes out to him. His situation really is a double-edged sword. If he proves he isn’t crazy, then they are sure to send him to trial and his death. If he keeps spouting off about strangers abducting him and his wife, then they will keep him at Briarcliff. Either way, he loses. It isn’t fair.

“Stick to your story,” you tell him. “If it’s really the truth and that’s really what you know happened, then stick to it. I mean, it’ll probably get you confined here for life. But at least you’ll be alive.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?”

You don’t get to respond. The door bursts open and Sister Jude strolls in with Hardy right behind her. You wonder how long he waited outside before running to tattle on you.

“Why is this patient not restrained?” she asks in that stern voice of hers.

“I needed to clean his hands and couldn’t very well do that when they were bound,” you say. “He’s all set now.”

“In the future, I would appreciate it if you would leave the door open. No young woman should be alone with this one,” Sister Jude says, motioning to Kit. “Not until he’s been properly medicated.”

“He deserves just as much privacy as any of us do when being medically treated.”

“Not here. Not under my roof,” Sister Jude counters. “I like you, girl, but don’t push me on this. Kit Walker may have the looks of an angel but he’s far from it.”

“She didn’t do nothing wrong,” Kit says angrily.

Sister Jude motions for Hardy to grab Kit. Anger courses through your veins when you see how he is manhandled. “Hey, be careful! I don’t want to have to treat a dislocated shoulder,” you say.

Kit sends you a grateful smile which Sister Jude unfortunately notices. She steps up to him and in a low voice says, “Quit your leering! You don’t fool me, Kit Walker. You can keep spouting that innocent act all you’d like but I know there’s darkness in your soul.”

Kit’s body tenses and you see him clench his fists in anger. The nun yanks his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on your desk.

What a bitch.

As he is led away, Kit dares to look back at you and you see the glimmer of another smile before he is gone. The empty room suddenly seems more so without him there. It’s strange how comfortable you feel around him, especially considering the circumstances. After cleaning up the remnants of his cigarette, you sit back at your desk. But focusing is not in the cards for you. The rest of the day, you find yourself constantly sidetracked by the handsome brown-haired man with the deep brown eyes. So much so that you get angry with yourself.

You are hardly ever swayed by just a pretty face. Then again, there’s more to Kit than that. Although, it certainly helps. The way he stood up for you even when he was in trouble spoke volumes about who he is a person. You don’t think there is a selfish bone in that man’s body.

The next day during meds, you don’t see him in the Day Room with the others. It suddenly occurs to you that after the fight the day before, he probably was thrown in solitary. You hate solitary being used for any of your patients but the thought of Kit in a small dark room, bound and alone makes your heart break in your chest. All you can do is hope he’ll be out of there soon.

At least three days pass before you see him again, mostly because you spend most of that time in the infirmary rather than in the common areas. It’s early morning and you are enjoying a rare moment of silence when the door opens, and Kit is led in. He’s bleeding from a cut on his forehead, which has already begun to bruise and swell.

“What happened?” you demand as you leap to your feet.

The guard, a brute named Dixon who you can’t stand, forces Kit onto one of the beds. “He slipped and fell.”

You doubt it. Your eyes slide over to look at Kit, who gives you a subtle shake of his head. “Oh really?” you ask Dixon, narrowing your eyes in distrust. “This seems like a pretty big bump just to happen from a slip.”

“Just treat him so I can get him back with the others,” Dixon orders.

“He hit his head. I’m going to have to keep him here for a few hours to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“Fine.” Dixon shoves Kit until he was laying on the bed. When he reaches for the restraints, Kit fights back.

“No! Let me go!” Kit struggles against him.

“Those aren’t necessary,” you declare, crossing the room to try to stop Dixon.

But the guard isn’t having any of it. The next thing you know, he pushes you away, hard enough that you trip over your feet and fall right on your ass.

“You son of a bitch!” Kit exclaims. He leaps up and punches Dixon square in the jaw.

What happens next is a flurry of blows and swears as the men fight each other. Knowing this can only end poorly for Kit, you manage to get back up before prying the two apart. “Enough!” you snap. “No fighting in my infirmary!”

Dixon is practically snarling as he wipes blood from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t scare me, Bloody Face. If I had my way, you’d be in the furnace by now.”

Kit makes a move to go at him, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Mr. Walker, lay down so Dixon can bind you. If you don’t, I know the right injection that’ll make you so tired, you’ll wake up next week.”

Kit’s eyebrows knit together as he looks at you with concern. You throw him a subtle wink. Breathing heavily, he sits back on the bed and allows Dixon to restrain him. Even though it pains you to do so, you help to keep up appearances. But you don’t tighten them as much as you should. Kit’s jaw is clenched as he watches Dixon’s movements, as if he’s waiting for him to attack again.

Once Kit is secured, you reach into your pocket. Unbeknownst to the guards, you carry around a sharpened scalpel for your own protection and the second Dixon lets his guard down, you press it to his neck, making him halt his movements.

“Listen here, you sick fuck,” you growl. “If you ever lay a hand on me again, I’ll shove this so far into your neck you’ll have to take your meals through a tube. Are we clear?”

Dixon sneers and takes a step back. “Whatever you say, woman. Call us when this psycho is ready to go back to his cell. And I’d be careful who you threaten. You wouldn’t want to end up like one of your patients, now would you?”

His threats send a chill down your spine, but you keep your hand steady, the scalpel still pointed at him as he backs away. It’s not until he’s out the door that you cross the room so you can lock it behind him.

“Are you alright?” Kit asks the moment it’s clear the two of you are alone.

You cross the room, pocketing the sharp instrument as you go. “I’m fine, Kit. Don’t worry about me.” As quick as you can, you undo his bindings. “Sorry about this. I fucking hate using bindings, but it was the only way to get Dixon to leave. He’s got a nasty streak in him; I’d stay clear if I were you. Are you okay? What happened to your head?”

“That asshole smashed my face into the wall,” he says as he sits up, rubbing his wrists. “He caught me wandering out of the Day Room.”

“Now why would you go and do a stupid thing like that?” you ask, hands on your hips. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your head down?”

“I just needed some peace and quiet. On my own terms and not in a dark dirty cell. Besides, others wander. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because the others aren’t wanted for murder. They mean to make an example out of you, Kit.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

You sigh and head to the icebox in the corner of the room. As you put together an icepack for him, you say, “These guards will look for any excuse to get rough. And they especially have it out for you. You have to be careful.”

“I hate this. I hate all of it. I feel like I’m going crazy. My head is so cloudy, and I can barely feel anything.”

“Those are the meds. Meant to keep you docile.” You carry the ice pack over to him along with supplies to fix up his head wound. “And suppress other impulses.”

“It’s inhumane, that’s what it is.” Kit barely makes a face as you clean the cut and dress it. “How am I supposed to defend myself if I don’t even feel like me? I think I’m slipping, doc.”

“I told you, I’m not a doctor.”

“Well, what should I call you then? You never gave me your name.”

You tell him your name and press the icepack to the bump on his head, “Here, hold this. Your nose is bleeding…again.”

Kit does as he’s told. After a moment, he says your name. It’s soft and beautiful coming from his lips and you can barely focus long enough to hear his question. “Can I confess something to you?”

“I’m no priest or nun.” You start to dab at his nose with a damp towel.

“It’s not that kind of confession. I wasn’t just wandering for the sake of wandering. I was trying to come see you.”

You pause, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flickering up to meet his. “Why?”

“I feel safe here.”

You go back to your work. “I’m glad you do, but I don’t want you to get yourself hurt just to see me.”

“I didn’t know that asshole was gonna beat the shit out of me just for wandering.”

“Say you have cramps.”

Kit raises his eyebrow. “What?”

“If you want to see me…I mean, come to the infirmary, tell a guard or one of my assistants that you have cramps or a stomachache. It’s something most people don’t question since stomach stuff is really common, ‘specially around here. It usually comes with vomiting or diarrhea and no one wants to deal with that.”

Kit smiles. “Good to know.”

You finish cleaning him up and add, “But don’t overuse the excuse. Otherwise, if something is really bothering you, they won’t listen.”

“Understood. Do you really think I have a concussion?”

“No. Your eyes are clear and you’re not slurring your words. I figured it would at least give you a little reprieve from everything out there.”

Kit’s smile widens. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Although, I will have to at least keep your feet bound. That way if the guard comes back, I can quickly bind your hands before they enter. The lock will only temporarily slow them down since they have keys.”

“Hey, if it means spending time here with you instead of out there with everyone else who thinks I’m a vicious murderer, I’ll take it.”

Once you have him settled in the bed, you give him a cigarette before going about your daily routine. It is nice having Kit there. Occasionally, you talk as he smokes, but for the most part, the both of you enjoy each other’s company. He asks you about yourself, minor things, nothing too personal or probing, which you appreciate. You feel like he’s also trying to keep some distance between you, understanding your position and what a friendship with him could mean.

A few hours later, when you hear footsteps coming your way, you quickly bind Kit’s hands.

It takes a second for the door to be unlocked but then it opens and Dixon enters just as you’re pretending to check Kit’s bandages. “Walker here needs to see the shrink,” he says gruffly, crossing the room towards you.

“I was just about to call you.” Your lie is so effortless it even impresses you. “He doesn’t have a concussion. You can take him.”

Dixon is rough as he unbinds Kit and yanks him off the bed. To his credit, Kit doesn’t fight back or resist, understanding the stupid rules he needs to follow if he’s going to get anywhere in this place. Once he’s gone, you start to wrap up for the day, finishing any last minute tasks before getting ready to go home. As you’re straightening up your desk, your eyes catch the medication logbook, and an idea strikes you.

Sitting down, you flip through the pages, taking a look at the medications that are prescribed to each patient. At the bottom of the list is Kit’s name and, with a quick flick of your pencil, you manage to subtly cut his doses in half. It’s not much. You wish you can outright stop giving him the meds but that’s impossible. Hopefully, this way he’ll start to feel like himself.

You expect to be worried or guilty for what you’ve done. But honestly, you don’t. It feels right. Far too many patients have lost themselves in Briarcliff and you’re determined not to let Kit be one of them.

---

Kit’s world is not even recognizable anymore. One day he’s home with his beautiful wife, the next, she’s gone, and the police are accusing him of murder. He sees those damn creatures every time he closes his eyes, hears that loud noise echoing in his ears. If it’s not that he’s hearing, it’s the screams of the other patients.

When he saw you for the first time, heard you snap at the guard for mistreating him, he thought he was still dreaming. You have to be a dream. Nothing that good or sweet can possibly exist in this place. The way you look at him makes him feel seen for the first time in months.

He can’t get you out of his mind. After that initial visit, all he could think about was your warm embrace and the concern in your eyes.

To have someone care enough to worry about him meant everything. Especially during such a dark time. Trying to sneak away to see you had been a stupid idea but one he thought was worth the risk. He needed to know if he would have the same feelings each time, the same security and comfort. Do you really believe him or are you just a great actress?

The second time, you’re just as kind and generous as the first, and Kit knows that he is in trouble. A different kind of trouble than he already is in. This one is emotionally based and has the potential to end very badly.

Kit knew himself well enough to recognize the signs that he is falling for someone. You have only known each other a short while but already he can’t get you out of his mind.

The day following his first appointment with Dr. Thredson, he sees you in the Day Room and has to stop himself from immediately going over. It’s clear you’re busy, making the rounds and checking in on the other patients. Kit watches from a distance, smoking a cigarette as he leans against the back wall. Your kindness extends to everyone you come in contact with. He watches with admiration as you sit patiently with Pepper, checking on the small scrapes and abrasions she has.

You smile and his breath gets caught in his throat. Fuck you’re gorgeous.

Curiously, Kit watches as you slip something into Pepper’s hands before moving on to someone else. It turns out to be a small chocolate, which Pepper immediately devours before going back to her book. Kit smiles.

You catch each other’s eyes across the room just then. It’s a charged moment, like nothing in the world matters but the two of you. He makes a move to walk towards you, unable to help himself anymore. But then meds are called, and the moment is lost. Kit stubs out his cigarette and gets behind Lana as everyone lines up for their medications.

“This is bullshit,” Lana mutters under her breath. “Not all of us need medication. I don’t like that they force it on us. Makes my head all foggy.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Kit asks, echoing your sentiment from the day before. “Keep us under control.”

“I have a point. One I’d like to shove right up their asses.”

Kit snorts at Lana’s blunt phrasing. At first, she had been weary of him but now the two have developed a mutual understanding. Neither one of them belongs there and it’s better to support each other than fight. The line moves and Kit watches you join your assistant to make the medication process go faster.

When it’s his turn, you hand him his cup and briefly, his hands touches yours. It’s like a bolt of electricity shoots through your fingertips and into his, coursing through his veins at such a speed it makes his head spin. On the outside however, he remains calm, bringing the cup up to his lips to knock back his meds. Except, he notices they look slightly different than the days before. His eyes briefly dart to yours and there’s a subtle change in your expression. Your eye closes just enough to seem like a wink without fully being one.

Kit downs the meds with less hesitation than before.

Sadly, he can’t talk to you after that. Once meds are distributed, you go back to the infirmary and he’s left alone once more. Briefly he considers faking a stomachache to see you again, but your warning is still ringing in his ears. The fact that you offered him the excuse was risky on your part. He doesn’t want to get you in trouble by overstaying his welcome in the infirmary. Even though he is curious about the medication change, he lets it go.

It’s not until he’s in his room that night that he realizes he’s feeling clear-headed. Usually, once lights out comes around, the meds have him so loopy he rolls over and goes to sleep. Or at least tries. This time, however, he feels more like himself. Of course, that also means he’s more aware of the dark and the loud screams, but once they subside, he’s left with silence and his own thoughts.

She must have lowered my meds or something. She’s fucking amazing.

Kit smiles, curling onto his side as he allows himself to think about you without worry or fear. Again and again your meetings replay in his mind and when he closes his eyes, he can almost smell the scent of your laundry detergent and perfume. The way your soft hands gently held his made him flex his fingers instinctively. Those lips of yours…he’d given anything to kiss them.

Kit’s eyes fly open when he feels his cock swell. It’s been so long since he’s felt any kind of sexual desire even before being medication. It’s a wonderful change of pace, however now he has a slight problem. Kit feels ashamed of himself for thinking of you sexually. All you’ve done is show him kindness and he’s thinking about doing all sorts of things to you. With a frustrated sigh, he rolls onto his stomach and tries to ignore it.

This turns out to be a bad idea. The pressure of his body against the hard mattress causes wonderful friction and Kit finds himself pressing his hips down for some semblance of relief.

Fuck it, he thinks, shoving his hand in his pants. I need this right now. I need her.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this himself. It takes a second to find the right angle and rhythm. He stays on his stomach, arching his back just enough to give his hand room as he jerks himself off. Burying his face in his pillow, he bites down to stifle his moans as he pictures you in your nurse’s uniform. The way it hugs your frame suddenly assaults his vision. When you had leaned over him to check his head, he had caught just the barest hint of cleavage. Then, he had purposefully closed his eyes to be respectful.

Now, it’s all he focuses on, thinking about how he’d love to run his tongue across your salty flesh while his hands cupped your tits. He’d bury his nose in your skin and inhale your scent before kissing and sucking every bit of you he could reach.

Would you moan his name? He bets you would, and he bets it would sound fucking fantastic.

Kit grips himself tighter, speeding up his movements as he keeps the fantasy going in his mind. Suddenly, the angle is too constricting, and he rolls onto his back, biting his bottom lip as he hand brings him closer to coming.

He pictures it being your hand. Pictures him laying in that hospital bed, you leaning over him and jerking him off as you watch his face. He thinks of you telling him to come for you and as soon as that thought crosses his mind, he explodes, coming all over his own hand as he quietly moans your name.

Sweating and panting, Kit lays there in his bed, heart racing and head spinning. He uses his blanket to clean himself up, tossing it onto the floor before curling into a ball. He expects the shame or guilt to hit him any moment, but he can’t find it in himself to feel either. All he feels is aching in his heart for the real thing.

The next morning, when they open the cells, he remains in bed. Once he hears the guard come closer, Kit begins to moan in agony, clutching his stomach.

Thankfully, Hardy is the one who check on him. Ever since you told him off, he’s been mostly tolerable to Kit. At least to his face.

“What’s wrong?” the guard asks.

“My stomach,” Kit moans. “I think…I think I ate something bad.” When Hardy kicks Kit’s soiled blanket aside, he adds, “Wouldn’t touch that if I were you. I felt real sick last night.”

Hardy wrinkles his nose and gestures for Kit to get up. “Come on. I’m taking you to the nurse.”

Laying on the theatrics, Kit forces himself up, still hunched over with his arms wrapped around his stomach.

You’re sitting at your desk when he enters. The morning light is filtering in through the barred windows and it catches you ever so slightly. Enough to almost make Kit forget he’s supposed to be in great pain. When you see him, your face grows concerned.

“This one is moaning about a stomachache,” Hardy says. “Where do you want him?”

To his dismay, Kit notices you’re not alone today. There’s a patient asleep in one of the other beds. You’re out of your chair in a second, pressing one of those soft hands to his forehead.

“He’s burning up.” Your ability to lie so smoothly makes Kit admire you even more. “Here, let’s get him on this bed right here.”

Hardy and you help Kit onto one of the beds in the corner of the room, one that’s hidden behind a divider. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” you say, tucking Kit in. “It’s probably just food poisoning. I’ve told the cook a million times they need to store the food better.”

“Think he needs to be tied down?” Hardy asks.

“No, of course not. Have you ever dealt with a patient who’s tied down and soiling themselves? My job is hard enough as it is. I won’t be dealing with that today.”

Kit makes retching noises if for no other reason than to see Hardy grow pale and uncomfortable.

“Oh, you better go before he starts up,” you urge, shooing the guard away.

Kit keeps up the act until he hears the door close and you turn to him, giving him a wide smile. “Wow, bravo. Great work, Kit.”

He smiles, sitting up. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll have a shot as an actor when this is all over.”

You chuckle and glance over at your other patient to make sure he’s still sleeping before sitting on the chair by Kit’s bed. “How are you really feeling this morning?”

“Better, actually. Do I have you to thank for that?”

“Well…it did seem overkill to have you on such high doses of medication when you aren’t mentally unstable. I’m sorry I couldn’t take you off them completely.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Kit says, reaching out to lay his hand over yours. “If anything, I’m sorry for you having to take that risk. I don’t want you to get in trouble, or worse, because of me.”

You look down at his hand and he immediately draws it back, worrying he may have crossed a line. There’s something in your expression that puts him on edge. He can see that you’re struggling, which only makes him feel worse. He berates himself for foolishly giving into his desires. Already things are tough, and the future is scarily uncertain. He’s on the hook for murder for fuck’s sake.

Before Kit can continue the self-deprecating spiral, you surprise him by carefully getting out of your seat and sitting next to him on the bed.

“Kit…” you say. “This friendship between us…I don’t know if it can continue.”

Kit’s heart sinks and he looks away from you, his gaze now fixated on the floor. “I don’t blame you,” he says. “It’s not safe being near me in any way. Honestly, it was stupid of me to come here like that. As much as I like spending time with you, I never want to put you in a compromising position. I’ve seen these guards and I know how they treat women. You’re in just as much danger here as I am.”

Your hand takes his, and he snaps his head up to look at you.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” you say. For the first time since you met a few days ago, he hears the slightest crack in your voice. “I’m worried because, if we continue this friendship, I know that for me, one day, it might not be enough.”

His heart speeds up at your confession. Kit can’t believe his ears. The fact that you are feeling even the slightest bit of the attraction to him that he’s been feeling for you is enough to give him the sliver of hope that’s been severely lacking over the last few weeks.

Kit hesitantly links his fingers with yours, giving you every chance to pull away. You don’t. When he says your name, his throat is dry, and he has to clear it before he can go on. “I have no right liking you as much as I do. I don’t believe in God, but I can’t help but think that you’re my damn guardian angel. Because of you, I’m actually starting to think that maybe there’s a way out of this. Or at the very least, staying here won’t be so bad so long as you’re here.”

Your gaze softens and you look away, trying to hide the tear leaking out of the corner of your eye. With his free hand, Kit reaches up to wipe it away with his thumb. He can’t stop himself from cupping your cheek, needing to feel the warmth and softness against his palm. You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch, a shaky exhale escaping through your parted lips.

Your lips.

Kit’s eyes can’t look anywhere else. They look so inviting. He bets they’re just as soft as the rest of you, maybe even more so. Without even stopping to think what he’s doing, he starts to lean in, so slowly that you don’t seem to notice until you open your eyes to meet his. You pull your head back. Not abruptly or angrily, but enough where he gets the message to stop. Kit sighs with disappointment at the refusal. But a second later, you’re leaning in this time, at the same achingly slow pace he had been before.

Your lips brush and there’s a heated charge that soars between you, making you pause before you even properly get a kiss. Your eyes are wide as they meet his, searching for the same thing he’s looking for in yours: permission, acceptance, desire.

Kit closes the distance.

With one hand still cradling your face, he kisses you deeply, drawing your body as close to his as he dares. He feels you melt under his touch and it urges him to keep going, to keep kissing you, to deepen the kiss so he can savor the intense waves of desire washing over him.

You let him, opening your mouth so that his tongue can glide along yours.

It all becomes too intense for the both of you and you have to break the kiss, panting as your foreheads rest against one another’s.

“This is such a bad idea,” you say, the breathlessness of your voice making Kit’s cock twitch. “We have to be smart and we have to be careful. If we really can’t stay apart, then you have to listen to what I say and follow my instructions. Okay?”

“I can do that,” Kit says. He’d honestly agree to anything you say at that point. “Trust me, baby. I know the stakes.”

“Me too.” You take a deep breath and pull away, breaking all contact with him. It immediately leaves him cold and wanting more. “My assistants will be coming to collect the meds any moment. I need to go prepare.”

You reach out to cup his cheek and Kit holds your wrist, keeping your hand there for another moment so he could savor the contact. The way your eyes soften at him only makes him want to kiss you again. Instead, he settles for a peck on your palm before letting you fully pull away.

As you stand and collect yourself, you take a step towards the divider before you pause and look back at him. “No one can know, Kit. Not if you want to stay under my care. If anyone finds out there’s something between us, they’ll transfer me somewhere else and I won’t be able to protect you.”

The fact that you’re scared for him in this scenario and not yourself makes Kit want to throw you on the bed and ravish you. “I promise, I will find a way to clear my name,” he says. “Then once I’m out of here, I’ll take you away. Far away where this place can’t reach us.”

You smile and reach out to stroke his cheek again. “Easy there, Mr. Walker,” you tease, stroking his bottom lip with your thumb. “Keep talking like that and I may think you’re already falling for me.”

He watches you walk away, only one thought on his mind. Too late for that.

#kit walker #evan peters #ahs asylum #kit walker x reader #kit walker x you

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daydream-believin · 3 years

Text

What About the Smaller Picture (3)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (3) You’ve adjusted to Arcadian life pretty well. (1) or (4)

Warnings: Swearing, sleep problems?

Word count: 2474

A/n: sorry this wasnt out sooner I’ve had a week

The curtains were blue. They had a little pattern of navy and white flowers and curvy lines like pottery painted with indigo. You had moved one of Doux’s bookshelves to be the second wall to allow the curtain rod to even be in place. This layout effectively created a nook of sorts around your little bed. To be frank the curtains weren’t absolutely necessary. The space kinda gave you university dorm vibes with the two twin beds across from each other. But there was no way you were letting this guy you barely knew watch you sleep. Even if you were good friends, you wouldn’t let him watch you sleep. That kind of vulnerability was special, reserved for only those closest to you.

Speaking of closeness, Douxie had been very adamant about you not calling him by his full name anymore. Made him feel like you were reprimanding him, he said. You could relate to the feeling, and so you were now being careful to replace all ‘Hisirdoux’s with ‘Douxie’s in your head. Or at least a ‘Doux’. Not ‘Babe’. Who told you that. You definitely never referred to him as Babe in your mind. Nope. That Is Not Something Friends Do.

“And,” Douxie rubbed the back of his neck, “Normally when people call me Hisirdoux nowadays it’s because they want to kill me. Only strangers and enemies call me that. Or Zoe when she’s pissed. So yeah, just Douxie is fine.”

“Just Douxie?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” You looked up at him with a smile.

“Douxie.” He flushed, nodding. “Well, Douxie, what do you want for dinner tonight.”

That little nook you’d built hadn’t stopped Douxie from trying to talk to you all night, however. You’d think the curtains would be a clear message of don’t talk to me I want to be left alone but Doux hadn’t really taken that hint. You tried your best to brush him off the first few nights, even pretending to fall asleep. It didn’t stop him. By the fourth night you spent in Arcadia, you gave in. You had trouble sleeping anyways, as it was apparent so did your roommate, so might as well indulge him. It’s not like ignoring him did any good. Instead of staring at a blue-light screen that messed with your circadian rhythm, you talked about nonsense with Doux. And it was good nonsense. He was way too funny. Or maybe it’s that thing where if you’re into someone then everything they say is hilarious. You’ll never know. But it was nice, either way.

The funny thing was that not only did you actually start to like this, but now it was becoming hard to sleep without it. He helped. Your whole life you stayed up late, and then tossed and turned all night anyways. Now your bedtime routine was talk to Douxie for a few hours, slowly falling asleep, and then you’d sleep the whole night through like a baby. No more restlessness. No more waking up over and over again. Even if you did, you could just listen to him snore for a bit and fall right back to sleep. You guessed it was the feeling of safety he provided. Like someone was watching over you, even when you were at your most vulnerable. You’d never really had that luxury before.

You had started noticing the trouble coming back when he would stay out late sometimes. And Douxie was gone one night and you suddenly couldn’t sleep at all. This was bad. A problem, if you will. But no matter. There were more pressing things to worry about.

Like the fact that all week, Douxie had been hinting that he had something you two were going to do soon. He would not tell you what it was. In fact he was taking quite a bit of joy in dangling this “surprise” in front of your face but not telling you anything about it. It was driving you a little crazy. You hoped what he had planned was nothing too wild, though. It’s not that you weren’t down, you were just tired. But you could use a little shaking up. This bookshop existence was boring. You weren’t boring. You had enough crazy stories to last an immortal lifetime from growing up in New Jersey. Not just modern-day Urban New Jersey. Early colonial Quaker-dominated New Jersey was wild too. Especially as one of those infamous New England witches. Maybe Douxie was taking you on some magic errand. That would be great, you were dying to do something actually in your job description ever since you got here. Not that working in the bookshop wasn’t nice, it just wasn’t magic. You were craving magic.

But alas, as the sun was setting and the last patrons left the store, life moved on as mundanely usual. You flipped over the sign, scratched a sunbeam bathing Archie behind the ears, and started the process of re-shelving all the damn books that customers left strown about. The sunset turned the bookshop pink. There were fewer cars rushing by. Now that there were no customers, it was very peaceful. Just you, Archie’s snoring, and the soft lute music playing. The music was lute covers of popular songs, and at this point you were pretty sure it was Douxie himself who recorded this shit.

Speaking of Douxie, you hadn’t seen him all day. It had made working the bookshop extra extra boring. Like if he wanted you to be free labor, he could at least give you the decency of his lovely presence. But no, it was just you, all day long. All by your lonesome, with nary a cute theater-kid adjacent wizard to keep you entertained with his company. It was a travesty really. But anyways, where was he. Better not be having fun without you.

You like to think your thoughts summoned him. He came in through the back door, panting, disheveled. Singed? He frantically looked out the door’s window into the alleyway from which he had just came from, looking for something. Whatever it was, he must have seen it, since he looked panic-stricken. In a painfully obvious attempt to swallow the fear, he turned to you, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“SO. You know that thing? The surprise? Well. It is here a little sooner than I expected it to bE—” A loud crashing noise came from the alleyway. “Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

You dropped the book in your hand. “WHAT DID YOU DO.”

There was another very loud crash, this time closer. Douxie glanced back for less than a moment before rushing over to you, taking you hand.

“I’ll just have to tell you on the way love, come on!”

You two fled out the front door of the shop like your tails were on fire. Speaking of tails on fire, once you rounded the shop to the alleyway, you found out just what Douxie had been running from that was making such loud noises. Hellheetis. Five large hellheetis. Blazing bright in the Arcadian dusk. How the neighbors haven’t already called the cops or the fire department was a mystery. The large lion-like creatures growled, stalking down the alley. It was only a matter of seconds before they smelled and or spotted you and went back into the chase. You had to make a plan and fast. Distracting you from your thoughts, Douxie nervously laughed beside you.

“hehe, uh, could you believe there was only one of these at the start?”

You slowly turned to the wizard, “Did you,, hit them, Hisirdoux?” You could call him that now because you were in fact pissed off at the moment.

“Only twice.”

“Only twice… Okay”

“I may not be the best at monster identification. Or remembering which tactic to use for which.”

“I can see that.” You tried to keep your voice as calm as you could, which got a little easier to do as the hellheetis turned down a different alleyway, putting some more distance between them and you. They were still searching though, that was apparent. Thankfully the stench of the alley trash was keeping you covered.

“Believe me, Archie gets onto me about this all the time.”

“It’s okay… just. I think I have a plan. But one of us has to be bait. And it’s going to be you.”

“That’s fair.”

You sprinted up the stairs of the bookstore and up through the ceiling hatch onto the rooftop. You first instinct was to get them to the center of the square, where you could use the fountain as a water source. The alley they had started going down opened up to the square anyhow. It would have been a straight shot. But dear Mr. Casperan made a fuss about that being too out in the open or whatever.

Next solution. The bookstore’s rooftop had a facet, Douxie told you. You’d like to imagine it was put there so some nice old lady could have had a sweet rooftop garden without too much hassle. Maybe you should start a sweet rooftop garden. You and Douxie could have a little oasis in the city up here. You could grow veggies and flowers for your table. Maybe make a cute little picnic area. Stargaze at night. The facet. You quickly found it and made work of turning it on. Or at least you tried your best. You could hear roaring, getting louder, getting closer. The scary growls and roars were punctuated by Douxie’s frantic footsteps, grunts, and gasps. Please don’t get eaten, Douxie.

The facet was so rusty, it took all of your strength to get it to budge. And then nothing came out really, the hose attached to it lifeless without so much as a trickle. You tried to unscrew it from the facet to see if there was a problem and the metal part of the hose disintegrated in your hand. Okay. No water was in fact coming out of that facet.

Imaginary sirens rang in your ears. You had to get water, fast, or your partner was gonna be kit & kadouxle. Hellheeti chow. Growl mix. Douxies. Fiery feast. The big cats were gonna eat him okay. After managing to get the facet turned as fast as you could, fueled on pure adrenaline, and still getting little to no water, you made a judgement call of fuck that. Magic time. To be completely frank here that should have been what you had done in the fucking first place, but hey, fear dulls the mind.

Gathering up as much water as you could, like, metaphorically feel in the pipe, you pulled that shit out with all your might. Aaaannddd because of this you may have not actually remembered that you would need to catch said water in order to, you know, use it. Instead of a nice bubble to be used at your discretion, a magic roof-water tidal wave washed over you and over the side of the building into the alley below. Thank your lucky fucking stars that Douxie just so happened to have gotten the fire felines to the right spot in time. The uncontrollable rain rushed down, dissipating the hellheetis, soaking Douxie darling, and flooding not only your alley but all the alleys connected to it. Holy shit, stop it! STOP IT! It took a second, but you did finally get the river to stop pouring out of your rooftop. Fingers crossed there were no basement windows open and all your neighbors had flood insurance. And that no one saw. Can’t be connected to you if no one saw right. Shhhhhh.

You peered over the ledge to see if Douxie was alright down below. He looked like a cat caught in the rain himself. You probably did too. Douxie’s soaked bangs covered his eyes. Nevertheless, he was able to see you up on the ledge and gave you a thumbs up. You awkwardly returned it.

Toweling off your hair, and now in nice dry pajamas, you walked out of the bathroom to join Douxie on the couch. His own hair towel hung around his shoulders. You took a moment to enjoy how cute he looked all ready for bed, cozy in the blankets on the couch. And that semi-wet hair was looking pretty nice too. You only allowed yourself to linger on this for that moment however, as you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him right now. You crossed your arms as you approached the wizard.

“SO, dearest Hisirdoux, may I have the decency of getting to ask the question, WHY.”

“Funny story really.”

“Really?” You raised a brow

“Really.”

Douxie fidgeted with his hands. You watched this little nervous gesture intently as you sat down next to him. He took a deep breath before beginning,

“First thing. You’ve been here for some time now, and I thought it was enough time for me to start sharing my little, er, excursions with you,” Douxie’s face flushed a little, “I like monster hunting, and now that I know that I like you, I thought I’d like it more if I brought you along with me?”

Your face was flushed a little too now. “Hey, stop it, I need to be mad at you.” Yeah well the smile you wore gave up any pretense of that. Sorry.

“I didn’t know how familiar you were with monsters or how skilled at fighting you were, so I decided to go get some test monsters from Mervin the Monster Dealer, just to make sure our first time would be safe. FIRST TIME MONSTER HUNTING TOGETHER.”

You stifled a chuckle. “And you didn’t just ask me?”

“It was supposed to be a cool surprise okay.” He buried his face in his hands.

“… Hellheetis?” Safe monster your ass.

“Yes, I mean no, I- Mervin sold me the wrong thing alright. I thought I was buying those cute little fire sprite things you can easily just put out with your boot.”

This time you did not hold back that laughter. And you laughed, and Douxie laughed, and soon both of you were uncontrollably cackling until you were out of breath. Archie came in to see what the commotion was about and then promptly turned back around to go back to his spot in the window. You clutched your chest, still cracking up despite the lack of oxygen. Douxie wiped some tears from his eyes you were sure hoping were just from laughing too hard. You rubbed a hand on his back.

“So, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. How bout movie night?”

Douxie’s tired eyes smiled at you, “Yeah, I think that would be lovely.”

“Hey, I had a good first monster hunt, Douxie. Thank you,” You pulled your cold feet up under your legs, “But could you stop hogging the blankets!”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #Douxie Casperan x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #my writing #watsp

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alittlebitmaybe · 4 years

Note

Ask meme time! Pick three fics you have written, post a favorite section of each and explain why it is your favorite. Then, pass it on! :D

oh goodness this is difficult because i tend not to think highly of anything i’ve ever written...but i’ll give ‘em a go!

beautiful, he stirs up still things

“Well, you make a good point, Witcher. But I already did pick someone else, you see.”

“Strike two?” Geralt guesses. “Did you put a hand up her skirt too quickly?”

“That rather remains to be seen, since I haven’t asked them to dance with me yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Since you ask, I’m actually quite nervous they’ll turn me down, too.”

“They won’t. No one ever turns you down.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier’s gaze on his face, like the weight of a heavy blanket. “Someone does,” he says, “quite regularly.”

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt stupidly.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Geralt swallows hard. “I don’t dance.”

“I’ll lead. I imagine it’s not so different from fighting. You’ll catch on.”

“I’m not going back inside,” he protests.

“We’ll do it here.”

The band, as if on cue, strikes up a slow tune that seeps out from the ballroom. Jaskier’s hand still waits, empty.

“Tell me if I’m pushing my luck, here, Geralt. I’ll leave you alone if you wish,” Jaskier says. “No hard feelings, none at all.”

Geralt tilts his head to get a look at him and immediately regrets it. His face is earnest and hopeful, still wine-flushed. The moonlight hits him gently, hugs the planes of his face, sparks off the blue of his eyes. Without any conscious thought, Geralt’s hand lands in his, and he beams like he’s never wanted anything more.

Then Jaskier releases it as he stands suddenly. Geralt looks at him in confusion, but Jaskier drops into a dramatic bow and takes the hand again. “May I have this dance?” he asks softly, dropping a kiss to the knuckles.

It’s ridiculous and over the top and sincere and Geralt can only nod wordlessly. This sort of treatment is so foreign that it tips into frightening, but as with all things Jaskier, Geralt finds himself diving in headfirst.

i really love this tender little oneshot i wrote, actually??? i was like, i want them to Dance and i want them to have Feelings about it. and then i DID THAT. i just really nailed the vibe i wanted in this fic, i think. this bit is the crux of it, when jaskier convinces him to dance. i really like all of it--the pining, the dancing itself, the kiss-not-kiss--but geralt having this internal dialogue of like “fuck i’m gonna dance with him in this garden, aren’t i?“ “you don’t gotta” “no i’m gonna” is just. the whole point tbh.

the brightest shade of sun

If they start arriving earlier to school regularly, it’s only because Geralt’s work appointments keep getting pushed up in the day.

The following Thursday they are third to arrive, breaking their streak of firsts and seconds. Ciri, pouting, gives him a little shove on the leg.

“We’re late because you spent too long getting dressed, Papa,” she says.

She’s not wrong. It took fifteen minutes to decide between the black t-shirt or the maroon t-shirt. He went with maroon.

Geralt raises an eyebrow at her. “Do we push people, Ciri? You know better than that. Don’t make me come down there.”

She sticks out her tongue and says, “You wouldn’t.”

Geralt sighs. Sometimes she’s like raising a little Yen. God help him.

Jaskier is fluttering about busily this morning, one arm balancing a stack of magazines and a box crammed with safety scissors and the other cradling a massive roll of posterboard. He brightens when he sees them. “Good morning, Ciri, Geralt! Did you sleep in this morning?”

Geralt says “Yes,” and Ciri says, “Papa was being weird about his clothes again. I don’t know why, he always wears the same thing. I knew I wanted to wear my blue dress today before I even went to sleep last night.”

“And it is an excellent choice as always. You do have flawless taste.”

“I know,” says Ciri, walking off to put away her things and join her classmates in the reading nook.

Jaskier’s pile of magazines tilts dangerously and Geralt takes half from him, saying “Let me help with those.”

“Ah, thanks very much,” replies Jaskier, standing up straighter with the lessened burden. “We’re just splitting these up between each of the four tables and leaving scissors at each seat. If you have a moment to help.”

Geralt does, counting off roughly a quarter of the magazines at each table while Jaskier distributes scissors and posterboard. Jaskier hums as they work. At the third table, Jaskier murmurs, “That color suits you.”

“Thanks,” Geralt says, losing his count.

this one is maybe cheating, because it’s not REALLY my fave part of this one (the planetarium scene was pure self-gratification), but it is up there and, tbh, underappreciated. there are so many little things in this simple bit i love. geralt painstakingly choosing from his 1 billion solid colored h&m basics tshirts. ciri sassing him so hard and dropping his secrets to jaskier. geralt being so caught off guard by the compliment from the pretty kindergarten teacher that his brain flatlines other than to make a to do list of one item reading “buy more maroon shirts”. he’s a fool. there may be a theme to these passages so far

another dawn

Now that he’s speaking about it, it all tumbles out. “I did it, once. The first one.” Every horrible word falls off his lips before he can stop it. “You died at the end of my sword. In the witch’s hut. She was knitting.”

“You—what?”

“I asked her to make it right. I asked for another chance. I’ve had many, and you still die.”

Jaskier glances at the swordbelt, face slack in surprise. “Steel or silver?” he asks faintly.

“Silver,” Geralt replies. “It wasn’t for you. I didn’t mean it.”

Jaskier gathers himself and huffs as if Geralt is being very stupid. “Of course you didn’t. You never would. I trust you, Geralt. With my life.”

“Apparently, you shouldn’t.”

“Sure, let me just upend my brain and forget the last decade of you protecting me at every turn, and I’ll get right on that.”

“Eight years.”

“What the fuck ever. Round up. Feels like a fucking century.”

Despite the tension rolling off him, Jaskier grasps Geralt’s hand. Geralt sucks in a breath, waiting to feel the wet slide of blood, the heaving death rattles, but they don’t come. His hand is warm, if moist, solid, alive.

“My existence, then,” Jaskier says. “My soul, my being, my legacy, my song. Whatever is left of me when life has gone, whatever scraps float about in my absence, I trust those to you.”

The continent knows I have loved you. They know who you are, Witcher. Blood on a hand-woven rug.

“Jaskier,” he says into the quiet, “I would not like to be without you.”

“Nor I, Witcher,” comes the soft reply. Another few long moments go by, and the godsforsaken drizzle starts up. Jaskier is the one to speak up, this time. “I’m going to kiss you, Geralt.”

this scene, when geralt gives in and just tells jaskier what he did and what he’s been going through, and jaskier is just kind of pissed off at him for a second, is absolutely my fave in here. it is SOFT. it is TENDER. it is SAD. like, jeez geralt, sure you mighta made a mistake but i’m here now. he knows geralt didn’t mean it with nary a second’s pause and is mainly frustrated that he has to explain that to geralt. this bit also contains 3 of my most self-indulgent lines ever. i just went for em. “my soul, my being, my legacy, my song,” that line, and the repetition of jaskier’s first set of last words, “the continent knows i have loved you,” fuck that’s pure nonsense right there, but i sure wrote it, and it sure does still make me sad. then we end it with “i would not like to be without you,” something that has settled itself in geralt’s chest since that first death but he never put words to until they fell out of him right there and landed in jaskier’s lap. oof!

#thx for the tag <3 #my fic #hopefully soon i'll have more to choose from!!#i reread a lil oneshot i started ages ago and it drew me back in again so maybe i'll try to finish that one #and zombie au is a lil stalled #cus grad school ate my free time and also all my other time #yoursummerfrost

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bemused-writer · 5 years

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VNC Chapter 39 Analysis

This chapter immediately got off to a good start. With the return of Roland to the series the tone immediately takes a more energetic, urgent vibe. We also see that Noé has a pretty good understanding of Vanitas’s feelings both about Roland and hugs:

In other words, Vanitas can’t stand either and Noé is willing to be the body shield for the occasion. Probably doesn’t hurt that Noé likes both Roland and hugs, so it’s not like he’s making a huge sacrifice here....

Regardless, his efforts are for naught! Roland shields them both from the chasseur ships and we get an interesting tidbit as well:

They were heading to Saugues? I’ll admit I have no first-hand knowledge of France, so if anyone knows better please let me know, but looking at a modern map indicates Saugues is quite a bit further away than Gévaudan! From Paris to Saugues is 533 km while Paris to Gévaudan is 575 km. All this time, I was assuming they were heading for Gévaudan but Roland is making it sound like they ended up at Gévaudan purely by accident.

Chapter 24 never outright said where they were going, just that they were going somewhere. Gano was supposed to meet up with Astolfo, but so far we haven’t seen this Gano whatsoever.

So, Roland might be lying and I wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe they were heading for Gévaudan but he doesn’t want Noé or Vanitas to know that just yet. But he might also be telling the truth, which raises three interesting questions: Where is Gano? Why were they heading to Saugues? What was the incident in Carcassonne? Also, if you’re wondering (like I was), Carcassonne isn’t exactly close to Gévaudan either; it’s 301 km away. 8D Regardless of whatever else we learn in this chapter, we know the chasseurs are used to long-distance assignments all over France. I suppose this makes sense; they seem to have a limited amount of paladins and they’re keeping tabs on the whole country.

Getting back to Roland, he has immediately made himself Noé and Vanitas’s co-conspirator and I love it.

Noé looks slightly enchanted, which fits in with his general attitude twoard Roland at all times and Vanitas looks like his soul might depart from his body at any moment, which is also consistent to his reactions toward Roland. XD

What’s really great is the reason Roland gives them for why he’s helping them in the first place:

This is... technically not a lie, but Roland is omitting a lot of the truth here as well. Roland does like Noé, there’s no doubt about that, but a big part of why he’s helping them is because he no longer fully trusts the Church. He suspects they’re hiding something and he’s entirely correct. He’s been researching the Beast of Gévaudan since volume 5, chapter 22.

Even then he wasn’t seeking out banned books. He’s toeing the line remarkably well. Furthermore, the fact he isn’t telling this to Noé or Vanitas shows he still has enough loyalty to the Church that he isn’t about to voice his criticisms to outsiders; he wants to learn the truth of it for himself.

All of this is in interesting contrast to his namesake. The Roland from “The Song of Roland” never questioned the Church, his Christian morals, or whether their foe was someone they should defeat. He was a stalwart warrior who was loyal to an extreme. This Roland is loyal but he has no problem asking questions or adjusting his belief system.

Noé doesn’t suspect he’s not being given the whole truth, however, and confesses he likes Roland as well. I double checked the Japanese for this and they’re both using “suki” to describe their affection. With the reactions on display I had almost wondered if they were using “daisuki.” XD If they had, it would have been essentially a love confession and the ship would have been sailing freely, but as it is it’s a little toned down. This has done nothing to appease Vanitas, however:

Vanitas’s anger could be for two separate things (or both!):

1) He can’t stand Roland, so the insinuation that Noé’s little declaration somehow counts for him as well is disgusting.

2) Noé is getting along with Roland exceedingly well. Arguably better than he gets along with Vanitas and he’s focusing all his attention on him, forgetting why they’re there in the first place. In other words, he’s a little jealous. He can’t exactly go around saying that--it would hardly fit his character--so he just gives Roland something to do. An important something, there’s no question that it needs to be done, but it’s also something that will keep Roland away from both him and Noé for a while.

Noé’s strong reaction to Roland’s declaration as well as the one back in the catacombs where Roland announced they were friends indicates to me that Noé is kind of lonely. That isn’t surprising; he only ever really had two friends and one of them died a few years back. Teacher only visited sporadically from what we’ve seen and Dominique is restrained in her affection in the present, which is understandable. She can’t let Noé how she feels, so she can hardly go around announcing something like this in the way Roland can. Of course, Vanitas can’t really be described as affectionate at all.

Noé is pretty open with how he feels about people, so Roland is probably a nice change of pace and probably the only person being as open and forthright as Noé wishes everyone would be. Granted, as I just pointed out, a lot of Roland’s openness is a facade, but Noé doesn’t know that....

We also get to see Roland and Olivier in action at last!

Furthermore, we got to see Olivier’s weapon, which seems unnecessarily violent in my opinion. XD A sword and a chainsaw? Sounds excruciating... And apparently he’s quite vicious with it. I laughed pretty hard at how the villagers were initially cheering him on without abandon, but the more he fought the wolves the more their cheers started to die down as they realized this guy might be a little unhinged.

That one guy became physically ill...

It’s also confirmed that Olivier’s weapon shares the same name, Hauteclaire, as his namesake in “The Song of Roland,” too. According to the edition I have on hand, Hauteclaire means “Highbright” while Durandal (Roland’s weapon) might mean “Enduring.”

As for the mysterious Gano, I haven’t yet seen a name that looks like his in the poem. Maybe it’s a nickname? If so, I wonder if he might be Ganelon. In that case, his weapon would be Murgleys, which the translation thinks may mean “Death brand.” If he does ever show up, I think we may find him the most fearsome paladin yet.

Olivier and Roland are each leading their own teams (team 6 for Roland, team 3 for Olivier) and we finally get to see how these two interact during battle and it’s exactly what I hoped for: Olivier is barely tolerating his nonsense, and Roland is getting his way through sheer force of will alone. In this regard, they’re definitely like their counterparts but the main difference is that they’re both leaders here as opposed to Olivier working for Roland. Granted, he seems to give in to what Roland wants regardless, so...

But Olivier is no fool. He sorts out why Roland is making such bizarre requests.

He knows that the only people to get Roland to change the way he does everything, to make him rethink his belief system, is Noé (and kind of Vanitas). He kind of looks worried; he knows Roland is pushing things with the Church, but there’s nothing he can do to stop him.

For all of Olivier’s worries though, Roland will do his job. He will wipe out all the vampires if he has to.

It’s all too easy to forget how dangerous Roland actually is but let’s not forget that while Astolfo called him a “buffoon of a man” this was the image he had of Roland when he thought of him:

He’s looking down on him with a face of stern judgment. That’s not a man to be messed with. Makes me wonder how Astolfo and Roland actually get along...

As it is, Noé only has the barest inkling of Roland’s true nature himself. But this scene makes one thing very clear: Roland is restraining himself. He has no doubt he could kill Chloé and quite likely Jean-Jacques if he needed to. It would be fascinating to see him and Jeanne fight each other. They’re each absurdly powerful but they each restrain themselves for personal reasons. If they ever did have a confrontation where neither was hindered, I honestly don’t know who would win. On the flipside, imagine if they teamed up? My goodness...

This monster kind of reminds me of Prédateur in the catacombs arc. It’s misshapen and grotesque. I suppose it must be a result of Chloé losing control of her power? I’m looking forward to seeing how he and Olivier sort it out.

This chapter we also finally got some insight on Jeanne as well. Honestly, I really thought this arc would be focusing a lot more on Jeanne than it actually did, so I’m glad we’re finally getting back to her.

Jeanne was knocked out along with nearly everyone else who was too close to Chloé, including Astolfo, Dante, and Marco (Astolfo’s assistant). She’s lost in a memory, and it’s a memory that is very interesting:

She’s surrounded by water and she’s being approached by a man with a candle, telling her she’s a doll who must obey without question.

To me, it looks very much like she’s in a tank, much like whoever this individual is:

Both Jeanne and the girl (?) in the tank have something to do with Ruthven as well. Furthermore, both of them react to Charlatan, which I’ll get back to in just a second.

There’s a theory that’s gone around that the Jeanne we know might be a clone and I’m really starting to wonder if that might be the case. Look at this flashback of her parents, for example:

The way this is set up is confusing. At first I thought the two individuals in the first panel were her parents but they kind of look like chasseurs, don’t they? Furthermore, they ask her if she’s alone and if she’s all right. After that we cut immediately to the second panel, which we know for a fact is a conversation between her parents and Ruthven, and it’s shown they’re not her biological parents.

If the two in the first panel are chasseurs, I think it’s safe to say she was probably in one of those tanks in the catacombs at some point and that she’s some kind of experiment, possibly of Dr. Moreau’s or simply of the Church/Ruthven more generally. Either way, not a good thing.

When her parents betray the vampires, she’s the one who’s punished, which is just absurd and heartbreaking.

This goes a long way toward explaining why Jeanne is so hesitant on occasion. She knows the price of doing things according to her own will: someone else will die in her place.

I think for the first time we’re actually seeing what she and Vanitas have in common. Neither of them were allowed much agency in their youth, both were treated as subhuman/vampire, and both are try to rectify the mistakes of their past. They differ in how they want to accomplish that, however. For Jeanne, she’s decided that the only way to sort through the horrors of her past is to obey and cut off any sense of individuality she might have. Vanitas is inflicting his opinions on the world at large and is trying to separate himself from other individuals by denying them any agency.

But this chapter we see them both go the opposite direction. Jeanne was reiterating to herself that she cannot be a person--she must be a tool. There’s no point trying to save Chloé--she’s beyond that point and Vanitas and Noé can’t hope to get there in time. But then:

Vanitas extends a helping hand to Jeanne. A real helping hand, for once, free of any demand or manipulation. He tells her it isn’t too late to help Chloé; something can still be done.

What follows is something I find fascinating:

They’re having a genuine, honest discussion of how Jeanne sees things and we see how low Jeanne’s self-esteem is. She can’t even allow herself to hope for something, to wish for a different path in life. And for once, Vanitas actually seems understanding. I think he’s been here before; he knows what it’s like to have no hope for a better future, to accept a fate of darkness.

And when he was at his lowest, ready to give up utterly, someone helped him see another way of doing things. It almost doesn’t need to be pointed out, this chapter already does, but that person was Noé.

Vanitas is offering hope in the only way he knows how and is it any surprise that when he’s at his most genuine, his most caring, he’s imitating Noé? That doesn’t mean he’s being false here, quite the opposite, but it indicates Noé is the only example he has to go off of, the only person who has ever given him this kind care, and now he’s offering it to Jeanne in turn.

There’s no doubt in my mind that this is the first time Vanitas and Jeanne have felt genuine or romantic and it’s fascinating to witness. A lot of people would argue that the scene in the cabin was romantic; it was framed to look like a kiss after all! But to me that was more about Jeanne asserting herself; it didn’t further their relationship in a romantic sense. But this? A genuine exchange of feelings and a real offer to help her for once? That speaks greater volumes of how they’re both changing their perspectives of each other far more than what came before.

Even though Vanitas is offering to help Jeanne, she still can only bear to ask him to help Chloé out loud. She asks him to help her inwardly, but they’re still not at the point where she feels she can ask him to help her specifically.

Will they ever have a real, proper romance? I don’t know. When Jeanne reveals she does, in fact, care about whether Vanitas lives or dies, he returns to his usual playful, carefree demeanor. In other words, the act he always puts on when he’s around Jeanne. After all, he has no interest in Jeanne actually loving him. He still doesn’t want that. It raises the question of what it is he does want from her, especially as their relationship continues to change the further into the series we get.

Hmm, will Vanitas or Jeanne die first? That’s the big question, isn’t it? Vanitas is trying to fulfill a broken promise to Misha through Jeanne but we don’t know what that promise was exactly. We can guess it was similar to the promise he made Jeanne, though.

If the salvation Misha needed was death, if the salvation Jeanne needs is the same, than it would really be in Vanitas’s own best interest not to grow too attached to her. We already know Vanitas is actually pretty bad at not getting attached to people though (just look at Noé and then also consider how similar Noé and Jeanne are personality-wise), so he may be in more trouble than he realizes.

If Vanitas dies before her he would, in essence, be breaking his promise once more, something he refuses to do. And we can tell this is something that’s definitely on his mind, because this is what he says to Noé shortly after.

Honestly, this is Noé’s fault. It’s only because of Noé that Vanitas keeps growing attached to people, keeps caring strongly enough to risk everything to help them. Noé is the one that keeps forcing him to change his views and to do things he’d never do normally.

Now he’s made a promise he knows he might not be able to keep, and that’s helping Chloé but if she hurts anyone in Gévaudan, there’s nothing he can do. They can’t take out all the chasseurs and Roland made it clear that he would do what he must. They have a very limited time frame to work with now and Vanitas has promised Jeanne he would save Chloé, all because he’d been in Jeanne’s position once before and when he had been, Noé helped. Now he’s essentially trying to be Noé but he doesn’t have the boundless confidence that things will work out the way Noé does. He knows this is foolhardy and has a very strong possibility for failure.

Despite being in the same room, Noé appears not to have heard any of Vanitas’s exchange with Jeanne. It looks like he was checking on other people in the room, but honestly... How does he keep missing all of this?

I really can’t wait for the next chapter; I’m curious to see how things are resolved and who takes part in what. There are a lot of ways this could go now and I hesitate to speculate. I will say that if Vanitas accomplishes what he promised Jeanne then I think they will grow closer whether he wants it or not. If he fails... I don’t know what that will do to their relationship. They won’t be completely divided; they have a deal of sorts. But their relationship would be a great deal more frayed than it was before.

Last but not least, I mentioned that both Jeanne and the girl in the tank react to Charlatan. It’s a small thing, but when Naenia’s name was mentioned, the girl’s hand twitched with recognition. Furthermore, Jeanne was actually approached by Charlatan:

Charlatan is replaced by Ruthven. To me, it seems very likely that Ruthven and Charlatan are not only working for one another but very closely linked. There was some proof beforehand that Ruthven might be a curse bearer but maybe it’s more than that. Maybe he’s spreading the curse himself in Charlatan’s stead. Furthermore, Ruthven is linked both to Jeanne, that girl in the tank, and Naenia. It’s looking immensely suspicious, but I feel like it’s relatively safe to say Jeanne is a curse bearer. Of course, if that’s the case, it means Noé is also a curse bearer and that’s going to cause some trouble later on.

Also, Jeanne used to be a bourreau for the whole senate. She was only permitted to continue because of Ruthven’s interventions. Despite how his treatment of her has been iffy at best, it’s no wonder she is loyal to him.

#vanitas no carte #vnc spoilers #Bemused's post #long post

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 4 years

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My 2019 Blog Review

Today's the last day of 2019, so I thought it would be fun to dig through my archive and reflect on my blog activity over the past year. I am doing this on my phone but once I have access to a computer again, I'll put this all under a cut. I just can't do it on my phone.

Jan 2019

- Tumblr's background color changed and apparently I'm the only one who liked the change.

- Kingdom Hearts 3 release -- of course, this was a huge thing in my blog at the time. Afterall, I'd only been waiting 15 years for this game. And while I definitely had problems with the game, it also had some very memorable moments that I loved...like Sora punching Davey Jones (I never ever want to forget that moment).

- I began my adventure of learning Japanese. I'm doing pretty good so far.

- The Mummy (Brendon Fraser) appreciation. Occamshipper apparently doesn't like these movies but I love them. I met some great people because I told occamshipper that whereas they didn't like The Mummy Returns, it is in fact one of my favorite all time movies.

- Lots of rambling about my love for Lucy Heartfilia and the Nalu ship from Fairy Tail.

Feb 2019

- BoA Appreciation. I love K-Pop and BoA is one of my all time favs.

- The Vic Micnogna scandal. Honestly, I don't really care about what's going on with the trial, what bothers me is the stain that was left on Funimation because of it. The voice actors really alienated the fanbase in this scandal and I didn't like that.

- Power Rangers appreciation. I love Power Rangers and unironically, too. My favorite power ranger is Adam from Mighty Morphin.

- Within Temptation's new Resist Album dropped and I loved it. I love these epic stories they tell with their albums and the vibes they give.

- I watched the Mythica franchise and my appreciation affair for Zombie Girl began.

- Ronon/Keller appreciation. I loved this pairing so much and I'm super sad the show never did more with them.

- Legacies Reviews. Apparently people find me funny? I have a sense of humor that people enjoy?

Mar 2019

- Emily Bett Rickards revealed she would not be on Arrow for its final season. I was really depressed a out that and I got a lot of hate from comic book fans for daring to say that I like the character of Felicity Smoak.

- Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles appreciation. One of my favorite anime/manga of all time.

- I was a victim of credit card fraud because of Creation Entertainment and then they tried to deny they were at fault despite hundreds of their customers reporting credit card fraud all at the same time. They eventually retracted their statement but because of this, I will probably never go to a Creation convention again. They're way overpriced and I certainly will not entrust my important info to them again.

Apr 2019

- Shadowhunters final season started airing and they went from irritating to just plain boring. Seriously, the season's biggest crime isn't how misogynist and racist it was, it was that it was completely nonsensical and boring for me.

- The release of Taylor Swift's and Brendon Urie's collab of ME! and I seem to be the only one that seems to legitimately love that song (even the "spelling is fun" part, RIP you beautiful lyric, alas, you were too good and pure to last in this hateful unfunny world of judgemental culture).

- The X Family appreciation. This is one of my favorite Taiwanese dramas and definitely my favorite series in the KO franchise.

- I broke up with the main SPN meta community (otherwise known as the Positive Police). We just didn't see eye-to-eye. I didn't appreciate them lording over the fandom telling people what they should and should not ship, telling people what they should and should not like...and they didn't appreciate me saying so. Lots of blocking went on and I'm still eternally sorry for the people that got blocked by these big fish because they simply liked my posts.

May 2019

- Game of Thrones crappy ending. What is there to really say about it? It was terrible and misogynist AF.

- Ezra appreciation from the Natural Oneders TFS at the Table D&D campaign. Ezra Lockwood was my favorite character and I'm not okay with how he was written out of the campaign.

- I was quite angry about Dean destroying Chuck's guitar like Dean was a 5-year-old child angry that he didn't get his way (seriously, Dean needs to be sent to time-out).

Jun 2019

- Quicksilver and Dadneto meta commentary from FOX 's X-Men franchise. So much lost potential there, unfortunately (thanks, Dark Phoenix).

- Orca appreciation. They're beautiful, majestic creatures and I love them, they might be my spirit animal.

- Someone unfollowed me because I wasn't giving enough attention to real-world problems. Essentially, I wasn't woke enough I guess. But I'm sorry, if I want to feel all righteous and justicey, I'll watch the news. Social justice and politics are not primary focuses of this blog.

- Godzilla King of Monsters was fantastic.

- Chuck TV Series appreciation. I love this show and I miss it dearly.

Jul 2019

- Veronica Mars Season 4 discourse. Essentially I hate what happened to Logan and what it means for Veronica's character moving forward.

- Played Love Island The Game and had way more fun than I probably rightfully should've had.

Aug 2019

- Re-watched Sailor Moon and then watched Sailor Moon Crystal. Both shows are so much fun. Plus, I love Sailor Jupiter. I love Jupiter's personality and her power aesthetic is badass to match her personality.

- Taylor Swift's Lover album dropped. I might be in the minority but it actually ranks pretty low on my list of Taylor Swift albums.

- Skillet's Victorious album dropped a d ot was a huge disappointment for me.

- I found watermelon to be my new favorite post-workout snack.

Sep 2019

- I watched The Untamed and I absolutely adore this show. I started watching more chinese dramas because of this show. And whereas I haven't found something I enjoyed quite as much from the chinese drama list, I've still greatly enjoyed a lit of the shows...but they still have nothing on The Untamed. The Untamed is just so good.

- Lover Fest was announced. And it was real shady the dealings that were going on with this. It actually kind of made me wary of actually wanting to see Taylor live.

Oct 2019

- I began the Korean drama, Extra-Ordinary You. I haven't finished it yet, but I plan to. I wanted to wait until the entire series was done airing. It does really interesting things with tropes and I greatly enjoy this show and can't wait to to return to it.

- Sherlolly appreciation. Rediscovered my love for the Sherlock/Molly ship from Sherlock.

-Leverage appreciation. Absolutely fantastic show. Highly recommend it.

Nov 2019

-Psych tv series appreciation. Another one of my favorite shows of all time.

- I wrote a Dean Winchester endgame meta. It was fun.

Dec 2019

- Kamen Rider Den-O appreciation. My favorite from the Kamen Rider franchise. I've been re-watching it and it's so much fun. Sato Takeru is amazing in it and the fact that this one of his first acting jobs and he's able to pull off doing so many different characters is seriously amazing.

- SPN finally brought us an angel/vessel dynamic in the form of Adam and Michael and it was amazing.

- The Jumanji re-make appreciation. I love it and The Next Level is just as good as its predecessor and I'm anxiously awaiting the next film in the franchise.

- My thoughts on why I'm single. Mainly because I'm lazy and I just don't feel like doing through all of the work involved in dating.

There you have it. That's 2019 for me. It had its ups and its downs but blog wise, I think I had a pretty good year.

#2019 review

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gwentoryfics · 5 years

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Hot for Teacher, Part 1.

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 9.5k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Alcohol and underage drinking. Swearing. Dangerous levels of lust.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3 | 1 • 2

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | Due to excessive references to American music, I’ve decided to set this fic in America instead of South Korea. Names will follow the American standard of (First Name) (Last Name), instead of the Korean (Family Name) (Given Name). I’ve also linked a playlist (above) that includes any referenced songs, artists, or other music that helps set the vibe, so please check it out!

This can’t be happening. This absolutely, cannot be happening to you right now.

You stare at your professor in shock from the safety of the back of the classroom, hoping to all that is holy that he will not look up to find you sitting there. How could he of all people be your professor? How could you possibly be so unlucky?

Your heart races as your mind clouds over with the memory of that night, of the press of his lips and the fervid insistence of his hands as they explored your body. In a night of slightly drunken passion, you had unknowingly slept with the man who was apparently fated to be your professor. You feel like you could cry from embarrassment, and you bury your head in your notebook as he begins roll call.

“Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.” Your friend Shinhye leans over, voice thick with worry.

You nod, not exactly wanting to fill her in on quite possibly the biggest blunder of your life. Maybe you’d share the story of your sexual escapades with her at some point, but sitting in the same room as your partner in crime is not the time or place to do so. “I’m fine. Just having second thoughts about the class.”

“Shinhye Nam?” He calls flatly from the front of the class.

“Here!” She pipes up and then whispers to you, “What? You’ve been looking forward to this class for months!”

“Yeah, but-”

“_____?” The sound of his voice wrapping around the syllables of your name sends a delicious shiver down your spine. You remember that sound, remember exactly the song of your name as it poured from his lungs that night.

“Here,” you respond meekly, lifting your notebook a fraction higher to give you more cover. Does he remember your name? Does he recognize your voice? Does he remember you at all? Surely he hadn’t been drunk enough to completely forget your tryst.

He moves on to the next name without pause, without even sparing a glance your way. Maybe he had forgotten after all. Maybe you’ve been completely wiped from his memory of that night. Or, conversely, maybe he had only forgotten your name, just as you’ve forgotten his. That doesn’t necessarily mean that your night together was insignificant to him.

It should have been insignificant, though. That’s how hookups work. You bite down on your lip and curse yourself for all of the stupid feelings that flood you, curse the way your heart pounds harder just being in the same room as him. It was just one night, and even though it rocked you to your core it was nothing more than a one-and-done rendezvous.

It was maybe a month and a half ago, but your memory of it is much clearer than it should be, especially given the alcohol consumption that colored most of your evening in a rosy haze. Maybe you had worked overtime to engrain every little detail into your memory because you knew you would never want to forget.

Your cousin’s wedding was a gorgeous affair. Lavish floral arrangements adorned the walls and pews, and sanctuary of the church, each bundle of white roses bound together with violet ribbons and lace. Music floated out from grand piano and violin duo, and oh what you would have done to get your hands on that Steinway. Its tone was pure as snow and you bet it played like a dream. And with the reverberating acoustics of the tall church ceiling, its sound was nothing short of angelic.

The priest led the groom in from the side. You had not yet met Hwitaek, but he was handsome and bore a kind, nervous smile. He looked like exactly the kind of guy Jiyoo would fall for, and it made you happy to see the apparent anxious excitement he had for the event.

The music changed and the processional began. The bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way down the aisle two at a time, arm in arm, and you were captivated by the elegant dresses the bridal party wore. The purple of their gowns exactly matched the accents of the flowers in their bouquets, and the bodices were intricately decorated with the finest crystals. The girls absolutely sparkled. But, of course, they could never outshine the bride.

All of the attendants stood as the music changed once more, signaling the entrance of the bride. Jiyoo appeared at the end of the aisle, clinging to her father’s arm as they slowly moved forward. The skirt of her ballgown dress nearly filled the whole aisle, and the sweetheart neckline hid behind a sheer lace boat neck top with cap sleeves. It was so stunningly her. And her bouquet was dripping with crystals, her veil and train similarly doused in glitz. But above all, she looked so, so happy.

She joined Hwitaek, passing off her bouquet and taking his hand, and you realized that he had tears in his eyes. Yes, he was definitely the sweetheart for Jiyoo.

The priest opened the ceremony with a prayer, and you obediently bowed your head, although you were admittedly on the fence about your religious beliefs. Still, you sent out some hopeful well-wishes for the soon-to-be newlyweds, because it couldn’t hurt to put some good energy out into the universe.

The ceremony proceeded, and although beautiful, it certainly lacked entertainment value. Not that weddings are meant to be entertaining, per se, but the more religious ceremonies could really drudge on, in your opinion. This one was certainly no exception. There were plenty of scripture readings and hymns, most of which you knew by heart due to spending your childhood in a very similar church. But right as you were starting to feel boredom blur your focus, you noticed him.

He was a groomsman, two down the line from Hwitaek. His tux looked as though it had been made for him, crisp and clean and sitting just right on his broad shoulders. He could have been a model, or a celebrity even, for all you knew. He was certainly far too gorgeous to just be an ordinary person. His dark hair hung soft on his forehead, his eyes were sharp, his lips were plush. How had it taken you so long to notice him?

For the rest of the ceremony you found yourself to be quite preoccupied, as one would imagine. The borderline salacious thoughts that filtered through your mind almost made you feel uncomfortable to be sitting in the house of God, so you did your best to train your eyes on Jiyoo and Hwitaek instead of the unfortunate, unreal beauty of the groomsman.

Finally, after far too long of a ceremony, the couple shared their first kiss as husband and wife, and the whole party recessed down the aisle. You thought you were in the clear, since The World’s Biggest Distraction was finally leaving, but then the damn boy looked squarely at you as he walked by.

You swear your panties literally (not literally) disintegrated.

Back in the classroom, Shinhye kicks your chair, startling you back to the present. “Girl, snap out of it. Why are you so spacey?”

You sit up a little straighter, dropping your notebook onto the desk and blurting, “Yeah, no, it’s fine.”

Your nonsense earns you a weird look, which you make right back at her before glancing to the front of the room, where The Hottest Professor is staring right at you.

Well, you couldn’t have avoided it forever.

His gaze lingers just long enough for you to know that he recognizes you, that he’s having the same mild freakout as you. So he does remember.

Clearing his throat, he breaks eye contact and casually looks around the room as he introduces himself. “Good morning everyone, and welcome to the first day of classes. I am Professor Yang. It is very nice to meet all of you.” He picks up a stack of papers from his desk and starts passing the packets down each row, working his way to the back of the room. “This is a two-part class. For the first seven weeks we will meet here in the classroom and learn the basics of physics as they pertain to musical instruments. The following eight weeks will be spent in the workshop across the hall, where you will each build your own instrument with my guidance.”

You intentionally keep your eyes glued to the blank page of your notebook, and you curse yourself for having chosen the seat at the beginning of the row. He holds the last of his packets out to you, standing close enough that you can smell the sweet cardamom and bergamot of his cologne. Damn, you love that smell.

“You’ll notice my office hours listed here on the syllabus. My office is right down at the end of the hall. Please feel free to stop in if there are ever any questions or concerns about the course material.”

It feels as though his words are directed specifically at you instead of the entirety of the class, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re only imagining it. You begrudgingly peek up at him and he nods encouragingly, still waiting for you to take the papers. When you finally grab the meager stack, he immediately heads back to the front of the class without so much as a smile. But what else should you expect? He’s probably not happy about this situation either.

The syllabus states his office location and hours as well as a phone number, which you assume is for an office phone. He would be insane to give out his personal phone number, especially being as attractive as he is. Students would certainly take advantage of that, yourself not included. You know better. You want absolutely nothing to do with this man if he’s your teacher.

Professor Hongseok Yang. You groan and slump down in your chair.

What have you done?

The reception was held in the banquet hall of a hotel not too far from the church. It was an elegant setting, with pretty white tables and chairs and more of the same extravagant floral arrangements for centerpieces. The lavender lighting cast a soft glow on the sheer white curtains billowing softly by the open windows, a pleasant summer breeze filling the room with fresh air. The calming color and soothing evening air did nothing to relax your nerves, though, your leg jiggling up and down to release the nervous energy within you.

You anxiously awaited the arrival of the wedding party, sipping at the champagne meant for a toast and convincing yourself that you were getting worked up over nothing. It’s not like anything would happen. You would never in a million years work up the courage necessary to speak to the groomsman. He was way out of your league; you’d just clam up and look like an idiot if you tried to start a conversation. It would definitely be much safer to keep to yourself.

Really, the whole thing was stupid. You were there to support your cousin, not to fawn over some guy. It was absurd for you to be so bothered by your sudden love interest to the point of meticulously planning out the rest of the night in order to avoid being around him. Yet there you were, completely intent on spending the night at your table, having a night of simple conversation and safe, good fun. And eventually you’d get out of your seat to congratulate the happy couple, but that’s it. Your mom would be so proud.

Your cousin had been kind enough to seat you at a table with your other cousins instead of your parents. You wouldn’t have minded sitting with your parents, but if you had the choice you’d much rather be around people your own age. Your parents could be a little uptight (well, more than a little, especially when going to family events), and even if you were going to have a low-key night, you’d have a much better time gossiping with your cousins instead of constantly having to reassure your mother that she looks just as beautiful as your aunts without looking overdone.

All you wanted was a relaxed, stress free night. But when had things ever gone the way you planned?

You had tried not to stare at him. You really had. But some things just can’t be helped. The wedding party made their entrance, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He glowed when he smiled, burning brighter than the sun, but you were unable to look away and save yourself, completely trapped in the warmth of his light.

You realized that at least a fraction of your attraction to him was likely due to the personality you were projecting onto him - he seemed clever, funny, stubborn - but he might not have been any of those things. Maybe he was bookish, or a sports fanatic. Maybe he loved puppies and children, or cigarettes and motorcycles. You only had one way to find out for sure, but you would certainly not be learning those things about him tonight or any other night.

When the meal was finished and the dancing had begun, you just couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He and the other groomsmen partied hard, tearing up the dance floor and taking full advantage of the open bar. The particular man that had caught your eye left his jacket at the table, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms - dangerous, as you were far too easily affected by impressive vasculature. He had to be covered in muscles, you just knew it.

Minseo, who had been sitting next to you all night, returned from the bar with a round of beverages for the both of you. “Bless Jiyoo for asking a friend to bartend. He’s not carding and honestly he’s super cute.”

“What I’m hearing is that we need to down these drinks as fast as possible so you can get back up there and talk to him again.” You gratefully accepted the wine glass, immediately pulling it to your lips and taking a deep sip of the dry, fruity beverage.

“Not a bad idea. And next time I’ll get a more complicated drink.” She smiled mischievously, taking a long sip of her own wine, which was already half finished. “What about you? When are you gonna go out there and dance? He’ll never notice you sitting over here.”

Wine dribbled down your chin when you pulled away from your glass too soon, and you sloppily wiped it off with the back of your hand before it could drip onto your dress. “What? Who? What are you talking about?” You blubbered, face growing warm, realizing that she had caught you. Your staring must have been too obvious.

“Come on. The groomsman. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. I’m telling you to go make a move.” She plopped into her seat. “Seriously. Go get it.”

Vehemently shaking your head, you refuse to take her up on any of her ludicrous suggestions. “Are you kidding me? I can’t just walk up to him and… and…”

“No, you’re right, you’re right. We’ll go together.” Minseo downed the rest of her drink and waited for you to do the same.

You continued your head-shaking routine, adding a finger wag for emphasis. “No way. I’m staying right here where it’s safe. The DJ isn’t that great anyway. Do you hear this music? I can’t dance to this.”

Just as soon as you mentioned it, the music cut out, drawing your attention to the DJ’s stand. Shinhye twisted in her seat to look over. “What’s he doing? The song isn’t even over.”

“See? I told you-”

“Alright, single ladies!” The DJ shouted way too loudly into the microphone. “Let’s get all of you out here and toss that bouquet!”

Minseo’s head whipped around like something out of a horror movie. Before she could say a single word, you took to shaking your head once more. “No, no, no. I am not going up there.”

You knew she wouldn’t listen to your futile attempts at refusal. Minseo stood, forcefully grabbing your wrists and yanking you out of your chair. “Come on, it’s for Jiyoo. Just stand there and look involved.”

Begrudgingly, you let her drag you to the center of the room, where you joined at least fifteen other bachelorettes. You tucked yourself amongst them, wishing you could just be invisible. Jiyoo smiled brightly at her flock of targets before turning her back, and when the DJ counted down from three, she flung her beautiful bouquet into the air.

And wouldn’t you know it, the damn thing flew right for you.

It arced high in the air, but it didn’t take a genius to see where it was going to land. You lifted your hands and it fell right into your grasp; you didn’t even have to reach for it. The room was all cheers and applause as you very suddenly became the center of attention, Jiyoo closing in to congratulate you.

“Ahhh, my baby cousin!” She squealed as she wrapped her arms around you in a big hug, her poofy dress swallowing your legs. “You know that means you’re next, right?”

“Next to get married?” You question with a quiet laugh. “That seems unlikely. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how very much single I am.”

“But the flowers have commanded that you’ll fall in love.” Jiyoo winked playfully, and you couldn’t help but smile, even if you didn’t believe in such superstitions.

The wedding photographer snapped a few photos of the two of you, and for a moment you forgot all about the beautiful distraction that was currently seated at the head table. You squeezed your cousin tightly, congratulating her on this big step into womanhood. “I’m so happy for you, Jiyoo! Your new husband is super cute, too.”

“He is, isn’t he.” She smiled wide and then gasped. “You haven’t met him yet, have you?”

“Not yet, actually.”

Nodding her head towards the front of the room, she took your hand sweetly. “That needs to change. You’ll love him.”

“I’m sure I will.” You laughed and eagerly followed her to their table before you could realize who else waited there. And by the time you saw the groomsman seated there, it was already too late.

“Hwitaek!” Jiyoo called as you both approached. “Come here, sweetie.”

Hwitaek, who was mid-conversation with the cause of your demise, patted said instigator on the back and looped around the table to come meet you. You fixated on him to keep your eyes from straying over to the man with the perfect face, and it seemed to work out okay.

“Hwitaek, this is my cousin, _____.” Jiyoo introduced you. “She caught the bouquet!”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Hwitaek enthusiastically drew you into a hug, and you wondered if the extremely friendly gesture was at all fueled by alcohol. Maybe he was just a friendly guy. “Congratulations on the bouquet catch!”

“Thank you,” you laughed as he released you. “And congratulations to you on the marriage! That’s certainly a bigger deal than the flowers.”

He smiled sweetly, tucking Jiyoo under his arm. “Thank you. I’m a very lucky man. She’s my best friend.”

Jiyoo beamed, and your heart warmed. They were absolutely precious together, the love between them practically tangible. Maybe one day you could find a love like that.

Just then, the DJ came in with some shitty, generic pop song, and Jiyoo perked up. “Oh my gosh, I love this song! Let’s dance!” She started to pull both you and Hwitaek back towards the dance floor, but you returned to your default mode.

“I’m actually really thirsty, so I’m going to get some more to drink. But you two have fun!” It was much easier to slip out of Jiyoo’s grip than it was when Minseo held your wrist, and Jiyoo and Hwitaek carried on just fine without you.

And then you made the mistake of turning directly towards the hot groomsman.

You met his eyes and froze. Everything stopped. Your tongue dried up, nothing more than a hardened sponge in your mouth, and your pulse slowed to a halt. You were dead. Absolutely, unequivocally dead. Taken by the unmatched lethal power of a perfectly executed seductive gaze.

Jesus Christ, you were drowning in lust.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking amused by the goldfish expression you bore. “Hi.”

Oh, dear Lord, even his voice was beautiful. You needed to get out of there fast. With a nod and awkward sort of salute, you took off, finding solace in the safety of your table. You plopped into your chair and practically inhaled the rest of your wine, dropping the bouquet onto the table and wondering how much longer you would have to suffer through this reception.

It would have been nice to have some relief. To get a moment to compose yourself and let your heart rate return to normal. But Minseo, the everloving bane of your existence, could not let that happen.

You spotted her on the dance floor. She looked over her shoulder back at you, a devilish expression on her face, and you realized that she was definitely up to no good.

Minseo had always been a troublemaker and bad influence over you. She was your closest cousin for sure, and had been a good friend of yours all your life. You loved her to death, but Jesus Christ she really knew how to push your buttons.

Born without a single shy bone in her body, she practically shimmied right up to the groomsmen, targeting the one with the sharp eyes and plush lips and dark, soft hair. The one with his sleeves rolled up, the one that you’re convinced is the most attractive man to ever exist. She zeroed in on him, leaning in far too close as she spoke into his ear. And then she pulled back only to point at you, and suddenly his eyes were locked on yours once more.

And this time, he smiled. Oh Lord in Heaven, he smiled. At you. And your heart went up in flames. Total destruction. There were no survivors.

You ripped your eyes from his, suddenly sweating profusely and somehow out of breath. Your trembling hands lifted the remainder of Minseo’s wine to your mouth and you sucked it all down, realizing that you were far too sober to make it through the night alive. And much to your terror, you set the empty glass onto the table and looked up to see him headed straight for you.

Panicked, you rose to your feet and took off in the opposite direction, hurtling yourself towards the bathroom so you could hide.

Once you burst through the door, you flicked cold water onto the back of your neck, wishing you could douse your whole face in it without messing up your makeup. Instead you just took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself because you were clearly overreacting in every sense of the word.

Why were you so terrified? He was just a guy, albeit a drop dead gorgeous one. That kind of beauty was frankly quite intimidating, though, and you just knew you’d look like an idiot if you had to say a single word to him.

You considered a plethora of escape routes, including begging your parents to drive you home early and climbing out of the small frosted-glass window right there in the corner of the bathroom. But were you really that much of a chicken? Were you really going to let one attractive guy scare you off?

Then you remembered the way he smiled, remembered the way you trembled at the sight of him. He intrigued you, piqued your interest. You were curious what he might be like as a person, a kisser, a lover. You nursed your lower lip between teeth, absolutely giddy at the thought of getting him alone. Sex with him would be incredible, no doubt about it.

Since when were you so shameless, imagining all sorts of lewd scenarios centering around a complete stranger, though gorgeous he may be? You didn’t do hookups. You didn’t do one night stands. Sleeping around was not your thing. But with him… you felt inclined to completely abandon your sense of morality. He sparked something within you that you hadn’t felt, well, probably ever.

That was likely why you were terrified enough to run and hide the second he turned his attention your way - because you had the vague feeling that you would let him do anything he wanted to you, and it’s both thrilling and frightening to know someone could have that kind of power. Especially when you don’t even know the man. Sure, you have a history of being unable to function properly around attractive males in your usual sober circumstances. But this was definitely more than just a fear of looking a fool. It was you avoiding the dangerous call of forbidden pleasures and the path to losing your morality. But most of all, it was the distress over the unsettling feeling that you might actually be okay with stepping out of your comfort zone if it meant you could experience him.

You just weren’t sure how to deal with any of that.

As class wraps up, you pack up your things and wonder if you should say something to him. Should you acknowledge what happened between you? Or would it be best to just ignore it, pretend like it never happened? Maybe you should just let him take the lead on this one.

Before you can really decide one way or the other, Shinhye starts making a scene. “You know, ______, maybe you’re right to be second guessing this class. I’m not sure an eight AM is good for you. Did you pay attention at all?”

“It’s not a big deal, Shinhye, honest.” You speak quietly but harshly, your words carrying more bite than you intend. You glance up at Professor Yang, who is also gathering his things. If he’s eavesdropping on the conversation, he certainly gives no sign of it.

“Really? I’ve never seen you so distracted. Maybe bring a coffee next week. He said he’ll allow drinks in the classroom.”

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, muttering under your breath. “Come on, let’s get going.”

“Alright, now she’s awake!” Shinhye grabs her bag and leads the way.

As you follow her to the door, you peek over at Professor Yang again. He’s busying himself with unplugging his laptop from the projector, and he doesn’t even spare a glance your way as you exit the room. You hate the way your chest tightens, almost as if you’re disappointed.

You catch up to Shinhye and follow her to the dining hall to grab some brunch. Class was scheduled until noon but he dismissed early, stating that the four hour classes were only really necessary during the workshop half of the semester and you’ll likely be free to go around eleven until then.

You don’t exactly feel hungry, though, your stomach too full of nerves to desire any food. So you sit at the table with only a coffee, per Shinhye’s recommendation. You probably do need it, honestly.

“How old do you think Professor Yang is? He looks awfully young to be teaching at a university.” Shinhye tears into her omelette.

Well, he’s friends with Hwitaek, who you believe to be in his mid-twenties, so maybe he’s around there too? But you can’t bring any of that up without divulging exactly what had occurred between the two of you. “He does look pretty young.”

“He said he studied and worked as a luthier for the last ten years… I feel like he has to be in his late twenties at least, but he certainly doesn’t look it. Or maybe he just started his apprenticeship pretty young. I wonder if there’s an age requirement for that sort of thing?”

“A luthier?” You question, not familiar with the term.

Shinhye cocks her head. “Yeah, ______. A luthier. Professor Yang talked all about it. You really weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“I guess not.” You chew your bottom lip. Your head really was somewhere else all morning.

Thankfully Shinhye fills you in without dragging you too much. “A luthier is someone who makes string instruments. Professor Yang explained all about how he did this luthier apprenticeship and how he specializes in making guitars when he’s not teaching.”

“That’s actually really cool,” you murmur. You imagine what he must look like playing guitar, or working with tools in the workshop, and you can’t help but feel impressed just picturing about it. A thought occurs to you, and you accidentally verbalize, “Oh that makes so much sense!”

“What does?”

You clamp your mouth shut. You can’t tell Shinhye that you understand now why his hands felt so rough when they slid under your dress, how you know exactly where each callous resides on his fingers. Somehow you manage to rescue yourself with, “It makes sense that he’s teaching something like this, you know, because obviously someone who has so much experience should be the one to teach the class. It’s just obvious. So like, it makes sense.”

Shinhye shakes her head slowly. “I just don’t get you.”

Maybe you’ll tell her one day. But it just seems unnecessary, especially because it’s bad news that you’ve ever been involved with a professor. The fewer people that know, the better.

After camping out in the restroom of the hotel for an appropriate amount of time, you finally gathered your wits about you and headed out into the wild once more. You had reasoned with yourself, finally coming to the conclusion that you were a grown(ish) woman who did not need to hide from boys. Instead, you would handle yourself like a true grown(ish) woman and boost your morale with a little (albeit illegal) liquid courage.

You headed straight for the bar, posting up there and chugging a glass of wine before immediately ordering another. Ah, to be a lady.

As you accepted your second glass, a voice next to you asked for a bourbon. You were thankful you did not have any wine in your mouth as you looked up to find none other than the most beautiful man in the world standing next to you - you definitely would have spit it out all over him. He smiled warmly at you, and if it didn’t feel like your knees were about to give out, you definitely would have sprinted back to the restroom, grown(ish) woman morale be damned.

He must have sensed your self-consciousness because he said with a laugh, “Please don’t run away from me again. I promise I don’t bite.”

You immediately squashed the thought of oh I wish you would, refusing to let that little gem slip past your lips. Instead you just took a long drink, completely unsure of what to say.

He wasn’t dissuaded by your silence, though, and you weren’t positive if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Leaning against the counter, he turned his body to face you, calm confidence pouring out from him in waves. “Your cousin said you wanted to dance with me, but that you might need some convincing. I’m not so persistent that I won’t take no for an answer, so if you say no I’ll leave you alone. But I thought I should at least try for a yes.”

The way his lips formed his words absolutely hypnotized you. How could a person be so stunning?

“I thought if nothing else, I might be able to at least have a conversation with you. I didn’t expect it to be quite so challenging, though. Usually it’s easy to get girls to talk to me.”

You snapped out of your dazed state with a laugh, your jaw dropping at his bold assertion. “That’s incredibly cocky of you to say, don’t you think?”

He shrugged casually. “It got you to talk, didn’t it?”

You took another sip, eyebrow raised. Touché.

“So what’s it going to take to get you to dance with me?” He smiled that beautiful, breathtaking smile of his, and it intoxicated you. Or maybe it was just the wine finally kicking in. Either way, you were hopeless. Looking away from you briefly, he accepted the short glass of amber liquid the bartender handed him, and you admired the strong line of his jaw and neck as he nodded his thanks.

Holding tightly onto your glass, you ripped your gaze from him before he could turn back to you and mulled over his inquiry. If you drank any more wine, it would probably be fairly easy for him to get you to dance, but you knew better than to spill those beans. So you respond to his question with a much safer answer: “Maybe a different DJ.”

He laughed warmly, and the sound of it turned your world upside down. “Yeah, he’s not great. Any wedding DJ that’s got ‘Y.M.C.A.’ on their playlist should not be a wedding DJ.”

You lifted your glass in agreement, intrigued. “I’ll drink to that. If you’re going to play something from the seventies, at least make it good. Give me some Marvin Gaye, or Donna Summer. Maybe a little Rufus with Chaka Khan for extra brownie points.”

His eyes tracked over your face as he clinked his glass against yours. “Some Earth, Wind and Fire, perhaps?”

Sucking air through your teeth, you squinted disapprovingly. “They can get a little campy.”

“Excuse you, ‘Boogie Wonderland’ is a classic.”

“About as classic as ‘Y.M.C.A.’” You snarked back at him, surprised by how at ease you were beginning to feel. The wine had definitely kicked in. Your brain felt warm and fuzzy, your limbs pleasantly tingly. “You know what’s cool?”

“Hm?” The glass in his hand met his lips and somewhere in the back of your mind you registered a touch of jealousy. Over a damn glass. What the literal shit.

You shook your head as quickly and minutely as possible to clear your thoughts and get back on track with what you wanted to say. “Um… Ah, wedding bands. Why don’t people hire bands anymore? Get some live music going. That’s awesome. That’s what’s good.”

“You’re really passionate about music, aren’t you?” Soft endearment coated his voice like honey, his sweet eyes scanning your face and making your heart flutter.

You nodded, shyness creeping up on you once again. He was miles out of your league, and it was honestly unreal that he’d even give you the time of day. Yet there he was, talking to you like you actually had a chance. Well… maybe you actually did.

An effortlessly sexy grin tugged at his lips. “So I know there’s not a wedding band tonight, and we’ve already established that this DJ kind of sucks… but is there any chance I could get you to dance with me despite all of that?”

And there it was - your chance. He could have very easily dropped the idea of dancing altogether after chatting with you and forming a more educated opinion of you. But the conversation must have gone okay because he still wanted to dance. And there he was, smiling all pretty and waiting for a response and you knew that you didn’t exactly have a choice when he looked at you that way.

“Let me finish this first.” Your voice sounded a lot more steady and confident than you expected, which left you pleasantly surprised with yourself.

“That’s fair.” He nodded and took a sip of his drink, finally looking away and giving you a chance to breathe. Changing the subject, he asked, “You here for the bride or groom? My guess is bride, since I haven’t seen you before.”

“Bride. She’s my cousin. And I’m guessing you’re with the groom, for obvious reasons.” You gestured to his tux, the symbol of his relationship to the groom.

“Perceptive,” he teased. “Yeah, he’s a long time friend of mine.”

With a big gulp of wine, you nodded. Almost done. You were really doing this. “They seem like a good pair. I hadn’t met Hwitaek until today - maybe thirty minutes ago, actually. But he seems like a good guy and she’s definitely happy.”

“Ah, right, I think I saw you meeting him.”

You froze up, remembering the awkward staring contest that followed your introduction to Hwitaek. With an uncomfortable chuckle, you spit out, “Right, I think you did.”

Now there was something more mischievous in his grin, and you knew he brought that up on purpose to see how you’d react. Pleased, he took another drink, and you were bewitched by the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I see them together a lot, and they’re a perfect match. Hwitaek is very good to Jiyoo, don’t worry. And she’s great, she fits right in with the whole lot of us.”

“That’s good to hear.” You were relieved that he didn’t linger on the subject - your life wasn’t over yet. So you smiled, finally on your last sip. You throw it back, and the warm buzz at the corners of your mind gave you the confidence you needed to place your empty glass on the bar counter and face him. “What’s your name?”

“Hongseok. Yours?” He smirked, effectively chipping away at your newfound courage, and finished off his own drink.

“_____.”

“_____,” he repeated your name, testing it out on his tongue, and it sounded absolutely wonderful. You needed to hear it once more, and you made it your personal goal to make him say it again before the end of the night. He held out his arm for you to take, stirring up the tipsy butterflies in your stomach. “Shall we?”

With a shaky inhale, you hooked your hand in the crook of his elbow, noting the way his bicep bulged. You were signing your life away for the night and you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Hongseok.

Professor Hongseok Yang.

You throw yourself back onto your bed, tossing your Physics of Musical Instruments syllabus to the floor. It’s been two days and you still haven’t come to terms with the pickle you’re in. The secret is eating you alive from the inside out, and you’re dying to talk about it.

Briefly, you even consider emailing Hong- no, Professor Yang, but you know you can’t just send incriminating emails over the school’s server. That would be about as bad of an idea as sleeping with your professor in the first place.

You’re trying not to chastise yourself too much about it. At the time, you had no idea he taught at your university. If you had, you definitely would have refused to visit his hotel room. You wouldn’t have even danced with him. You know how to behave responsibly, but you let yourself live a bit more freely that night and now you’re paying the price.

Maybe you needed to tell Shinhye after all. You just needed someone to know what you were dealing with, because it felt too burdensome for you to hold on your own. If just one person could know and understand-

Minseo.

Jumping to your feet, you scramble out to the living room and tear up your desk in search of your cell phone. When you finally found the device, you immediately video call your beloved cousin.

She answers after a few rings. “What’s up, boo?”

You almost start crying, already feeling relieved just by having her on the line. “Minseoooo! Are you alone right now?”

“Yeah, I’m at my apartment. You okay?” She frowns, peering closely at her screen.

You push your hair back with a sigh. How do you say this? “I’ve made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.”

“What is it?”

“Remember the groomsman from Jiyoo’s wedding?”

As soon as you mention him, her eyes grow wide. She covers her mouth, but not enough to muffle her words. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“What? No!” You shake your head emphatically. “No, I swear I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh thank God, because that would be just the worst.”

She’s right, though; that would be the actual worst case scenario. Your current situation might be bad, but at least there’s no fetus involved. With that bit of perspective, you proceed a bit more calmly. “So… it turns out that the groomsman teaches at my university. And I’m taking his class.”

Minseo stares at her phone for a moment, and then suddenly bursts into laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me. For real?”

“For real.”

More laughter. “What are the odds of that? Jesus. You finally get laid for the first time since high school and it’s with your fucking teacher…”

Her lighthearted response actually makes you feel better, and you let yourself laugh about it too. “It’s crazy, right?”

“Insane!” Her black cat poked her head into the frame, and Minseo scratched her between her ears. “So wait, what happened? How did class go? Has he said anything about it?”

“He didn’t say a word, and neither did I. He basically ignored me all through class. And I think it’s a good thing? But also I kind of want to just talk about it? Because I feel like it’s going to be incredibly awkward if we have to go through the whole semester without even addressing it.”

“You should say something to him, then. Just tell him that you’re not going to say anything about what happened, and tell him that you want him to treat you normally. I mean, that’s what you want, right?”

You nod. “Right. I should probably do that, as uncomfortable as it may be.”

Minseo tilts her head, looking at you endearingly. “You can handle it. You’re a strong little lady. You just have to believe it.”

Finally, a relieved exhale leaves you. “Minseo, I feel so much better now that you know. I haven’t told anyone here about what happened and it was killing me.”

“I’m glad I could help. You should probably keep it a secret at school, though. Word can really spread fast across a campus.” Her cat meows quietly in agreement.

“Good plan. This stays between you and me.” You hold up your little finger as if to make a pinky promise, and she follows suit.

“Our little secret.”

The first days of the rest of your classes all pale in comparison to that eventful Tuesday morning. Physics of Musical Instruments is your only class in the science building, so thankfully you don’t have to worry about accidentally passing him every other day of the week. That should also be your most difficult class this semester, with a required writing class and second levels of aural skills and music theory making up the rest of your schedule. Add in your weekly piano lessons and R&B Ensemble practices, and you’ve got a lot on your hands. But you’re generally looking forward to your sophomore year, regardless of the whole mess with Professor Yang.

And it really doesn’t need to be a mess, anyway. You’ll have your chat with him, you can both move on, and it’ll all be moot in the end. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you head into the weekend, knowing full well you’ll have to face him again in a matter of days and it won’t be easy.

Saturday afternoon is the music department’s convocation for the start of the semester. You take a seat in the auditorium of the music building, the ensemble on stage providing the entertainment as students file in. It’s the pride of the otherwise average music department, the upperclassman Jazz Ensemble, which you hope you’ll be accepted into next school year. If you do well with your own ensemble this year, you could definitely stand a chance. Besides, the current keyboardist will be graduating at the end of the school year, so there will definitely be an open spot waiting for you.

A familiar looking boy approaches you, all cheekbones and bright eyes. “Hi, can I sit there?” He gestures to the seat next to you, and you nod, standing to let him squeeze past you. When you’re both seated, he says, “I think I saw you in theory and aural skills, right?”

That’s why he looks so familiar! “Oh, yes! I remember you. Hi.” You greet him warmly, glad to have a fellow classmate to keep you company.

“I’m Kino.” He extends his hand to you. “Sophomore, studying voice and dance.”

“______, piano.” You shake his hand, and he smiles sweetly. “Also a sophomore.”

“Nice to meet you, officially.” Kino drops his backpack onto the floor between his legs and looks up at the stage. “Wow, Jazz Ensemble never disappoints.”

“You’ve got that right. You should have heard the Thelonious Monk tune they played before this one. They killed it.”

“I can believe that.” He looks over at you. Does he ever stop smiling? “Are you in any ensembles this semester?”

“Yeah, R&B.”

“No way! Me, too!” He laughs, and the sound of it is warm and pure. “I hardly convinced them to let me join, though. Being a double major keeps me really busy, but I was desperate to get into an ensemble this year.”

You laugh too, enjoying the way he makes you feel at ease. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then.”

“Sounds like it.”

The auditorium doors close as the last of the students scramble into seats, and you clap as the ensemble finishes their last song, a Miles Davis classic. One day it’ll be you on that stage. One day you’ll get to really make your mark.

The meeting itself isn’t really anything special. It’s mostly just to welcome everyone to a new school year and explain the basic requirements of a music major. Each semester you must attend no less than five student performances, but that’s nothing intimidating to you. You love going to student performances, so you’ll likely have all five knocked out before you reach the second half of the semester.

Toward the end of the meeting, the head of the department announces that he would like to introduce the new staff for the year. Three new professors file out from the wing, and you bite down on your lip to prevent your jaw from dropping, shocked to see Professor Yang among them. Why is he here? He’s in the science department, not music.

He is the first to step up to the microphone to introduce his class, and your heart just about jumps out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hello everyone, I’m Professor Yang. Although I’m not technically a part of the music department, I have a feeling you may all find an interest in my course, Physics of Musical Instruments. It will help fulfill half of your required science credits while still allowing you to explore music. In my course you will not only learn the science of scales, tonality, and sound waves, but you will also be given the opportunity to build your own instrument. I’m very grateful to be able to share my knowledge of instruments and sound with you. My class for this semester filled up very quickly, so please keep an eye out for it when you’re preparing your schedules for next semester. Thank you, and I look forward to seeing you in class.”

He is so professional, and you’re taken aback by how different he is in a professional setting. At the wedding he was so carefree, although he certainly carried the same amount of confidence. Regardless, your pulse is getting out of control the longer you watch him, and you’re so thankful for the cloak of darkness in the auditorium.

Kino leans over toward you, whispering lowly, “That class sounds awesome!”

You just nod, fixated on Professor Yang. He’s dressed a bit more casually today, wearing a pair of snug fitting jeans with his partially unbuttoned button-down, a v-neck shirt peeking out from the space where the button-down separates at his collar bone. His sleeves are rolled up, just like they were at the wedding. It would feel so good to rip off those clothes, to hear the buttons of his shirt break off and fall to the floor as you strip him. The thought sends searing heat through you, and you nonchalantly cross your legs. Yes, this semester is definitely going to be a tough one for you.

Kino takes off as soon as the assembly ends, blurting that he has to get to his dance department’s convocation. And as you eventually make your way out of the auditorium, you’re thankful that you’re on your own.

Professor Yang is in the lobby, chatting with another faculty member as students filter past. And for absolutely no reason at all, he happens to look in your direction just as you notice him. He looks at you long and hard with a completely unreadable expression, and you gaze back, trying to keep your face similarly neutral. Trying not to let him see how badly affected you are just to be in the same room as him. Trying to pretend that you don’t wish you could get him naked again, feel his body on yours again.

You may never know if you are successful in controlling your features. You pull your eyes from him long before you can pick up on any clues and bolt for the door, simultaneously relieved and saddened to know he will not follow you.

Hongseok led you to the dance floor and pulled you around to face him. The DJ was still doing a terrible job, but with his hand on your waist and alcohol buzzing through your veins, you managed to find it within you to dance. You swayed your hips, bopping to the beat, your hands eventually coming to rest on his broad shoulders.

His hands grew more and more adventurous in their placement with each song that passed. You didn’t mind one bit, enjoying the way he casually explored your back, thighs, and neck. Your own hands slid down over his muscled chest and abdomen, which you could clearly feel even through his layers of clothing. If only you could touch his skin…

You were completely taken by him, heart pounding pleasantly in your chest as warmth spread throughout your body. Why had you been so afraid before? Everything had turned out to be nothing short of wonderful. Even if it stopped at dancing and went no further (which was exactly what you expected to happen), you still could leave knowing you had a great time with an incredibly hot guy that you could fantasize about later to your heart’s content.

You still couldn’t believe that he would even give you the time of day, yet there he was, dancing far too close for your feeble heart to handle - not that you were complaining. His features were even more striking up close; you could easily memorize the straight line of his nose, the exact shape of his lips, the curve of his chin. You didn’t know what you had done in a previous life to deserve his attention, but you were endlessly thankful.

As elated as you were to be there with him, though, you couldn’t help but wonder how he really felt, what exactly he thought about you. After all, it’s not like he had just walked up to you of his own accord. Surely it was all your cousin’s doing and no true luck of your own. “Hongseok?”

“_____?”

You nearly shiver at the sound of your name. “Are you only dancing with me because my cousin asked you to?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if trying to decipher the true meaning behind your questioning. “Yes and no.”

“Okay?”

The DJ played a slower song next, and Hongseok took the opportunity to pull you up against him, wrapping his arm around your waist and taking your hand in his. His fingers were rough and calloused, but gentle as they wrapped around your hand. “You didn’t really seem too eager to talk to me after you met Hwitaek, so I wasn’t going to bother you.”

You swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry from nerves. You had almost ruined this for yourself, and you had no idea.

He continued his explanation. “So technically yes, it was your cousin’s idea that convinced me to say something to you. But if I hadn’t wanted to dance with you, I would have told her no. I wouldn’t have even asked you if I wasn’t interested.”

Thoughts manifested into words before you could stop them, and you cursed your intoxicated tongue. “Interested… in me? Like, you think I’m cute, or something?”

“You could say that.” His laugh brought a smile to your face. “What about you? Do you think I’m cute, or something?”

You should have cut yourself off after the second glass of wine. You didn’t drink often, and you didn’t have much of a tolerance, as made evident by the shameless, bold compliment that spilled from your lips. “Cute? You’re beautiful and I am very attracted to you.”

You only caught a hint of his charming smile before he pulled you in even tighter and lowered his mouth until it brushed the cusp of your ear. Gravelly undertones lined the edges of his voice as he murmured, “I don’t want to cause a scene - this is a family affair, after all - so I’m going to have to let you do your own thing for the rest of the night. But I want you to know that I am incredibly attracted to you, and I need you to find your way upstairs to room 417 after we send off the happy couple. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded without hesitation, speechless at his incredibly forward instructions, your alcohol-dulled mind still able to piece together the implications of his invitation. Damn all of your fears and concerns; Hongseok was a dream and you’d never forgive yourself if you passed on the chance that had been afforded you. Come hell or high water, you would get to room 417. How could you say no? Surely your sober self would thank your tipsy self for it later.

“Great.” His low, sensual voice filled you, his breath tickling your ear as he straightened up and released you. With a wink, he disappeared into the throng of partygoers, and you nibbled at your bottom lip as you wobbled towards your table. You needed to collapse into your chair, unable to hold yourself up after the assault of his charms.

Before you could reach the table, though, you spotted Minseo, and steered yourself in her direction instead. You grabbed onto her arm, ripping her from the rest of your cousins.

“Please don’t kill me, I swear I was only trying to do you a favor.” She misinterpreted your excitement as aggression, flinching when you leaned in.

“No, I love you, you’re the best, I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I think I’m gonna get laid tonight.” You giggled to yourself, feeling warm and airy. “He told me to go up to his room later.”

“There you go, girl!” She whacked your arm playfully, looking you up and down. “Go get it and then give me all the details tomorrow because honestly he’s gorgeous and I just have to know what’s going on under those clothes.”

“Ohmygod me tooooo…” you drawled. You were losing your mind just thinking about it. “Oh, um, hey, can you cover for me? I’m gonna tell my parents I’m spending the night at your place.”

She nodded, and then her face lit up. “Better idea! Let’s get our own room upstairs. Then you can come to our room after.”

You blinked owlishly. “Right.”

Minseo caught onto your hesitation. “Unless you plan on actually staying the night?”

“...No? Because… sleeping over… would that be weird?”

“Probably. I’m guessing he’ll just want to hook up and be done with it. So we should go see if there are any rooms available. Yeah?”

Minseo had a good point; it could get weird if you tried to overstay your welcome, so having another room to retreat to would be the best course of action. You came to the wedding with your parents, so you wouldn’t be able to get yourself home if you stayed at the hotel longer than everyone else. And you wouldn’t expect Minseo to leave her apartment and drive all the way back to pick you up after... You nodded and squeezed her hand. “Okay, that’s a good plan. Did I tell you you’re the best?”

“You might have mentioned it.” She started leading you by the hand towards the lobby. “Let’s go get that room and then head back to the bar before you chicken out.”

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be posted Friday at 8pm.

Update | Read Part 2 here!

THIS FIC IS REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY. All future content (including HFT Part 4 and onward) will only be posted on GWENTORYFICS. Thank you!

#hongseok #yang hongseok #hongseok smut #yang hongseok smut #hongseok scenario #pentagon smut #pentagon scenario #hyunggu scenario #hyunggu #kino #kino scenario #kang hyunggu #kang hyunggu scenario #yang hongseok scenario #hot for teacher #hft

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arcaneranger · 5 years

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Final Thoughts - 2018 Long Shows

It’s finally here! I’m so close to being done with 2018 (...mostly. We’ll get to it) that I can taste it, but in the meantime, this list is gonna be weird, because there will be things that were already on other lists since I revised my rules of what should be classified how. This post is specifically for any show that ended in 2018 and lasted longer than 13-ish episodes (including shows that aired a second season during the same year or within six months of finishing the previous one), which means that there’s about as much on it as a usual season of shows, but they all had more time to impress - or disappoint me. I’m doing a better job in recent seasons of getting to everything, but last year there were unfortunately things that I missed (I was burned out in the winter) and just have to leave aside for now because I can’t wait any longer for these lists.

Anyway! As usual, let’s start with what I skipped!

* The Seven Deadly Sins: Revival of the Commandments, The Disastrous Life of Saiki Kusuo S2, Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card, Garo: Vanishing Line, and Mr Tonegawa: Middle Management Blues because I haven’t seen their previous seasons or parent works. (Yes, even Cardcaptor Sakura. Y’all can shoot me later.)

* Hakyuu Hoshin Engi, Beatless, and Basilisk: The Ouka Ninja Scrolls because by the time I was rounding things up, I hadn’t heard a single positive thing about any of them.

Next comes what I dropped -

WORST OF THE YEAR: Steins;Gate 0 (4/10)

What a fucking mess this show was. Aside from a very noticeable downgrade in production talent from its predecessor, the plot meanders and flirts with maybe actually happening this time before just dropping out again, over and over, to the point where I was perfectly willing to drop it two episodes from the finish line because it was such an insult to fans of the original. (Also, continued disgusting mistreatment of the transgender character.)

Gundam Build Divers (4/10)

Taking the Build series from being a well-written kids show to an averagely-written kids show that hides itself in decent mech designs.

Katana Maidens (4/10)

I remember so little about this show, and granted that I did drop it after one episode almost nine months ago, but what I did remember was that it gave me strong KanColle vibes with laughably inconsistent animation and flat characters. Meh.

Darling in the FRANXX (5/10)

This should probably be lower on the list, but I got out of Darling while the getting was good, sixteen episodes in. I understand that future episodes of the show cemented it as crappy right-wing nonsense in addition to pushing worldbuilding out of its fortieth-story window, but the moment it lost me was much sooner, when the crazy yandere female lead was reduced, almost instantly, to Good Anime Waifu as a reward to the protagonist for going against his friends with his selfish motives.

Persona 5 the Animation (5/10)

In addition to not actually finishing in 2018, Persona 5 just did not give me a single reason to watch it when I’d already finished the source game, with middling-to-bad visuals (thanks to the switch from Production I.G. to A-1 Pictures, and not even the team that created the much better-looking Day Breakers OVA before the game was released in the U.S.) and phoned-in music, which is especially unacceptable in a Persona adaptation. Also, we all absolutely called that the studio couldn’t tell the story of the entire game in just 26 episodes.

Record of Grancrest War (6/10)

There’s people that like this one a lot, but I didn’t see much that interested me in the first two episodes. I’ve heard better things about the manga.

Golden Kamuy (6/10)

I had problems with the first half of Golden Kamuy that the second half simply didn’t fix, and it became difficult for me to keep watching - the show still interrupted almost every fight scene with a dick joke, but still wanted to maintain a serious and occasionally frightening tone - and those things simply don’t go together. It needed to either spend more time being funny, or keep its lowest-common-denominator humor out of the fights.

Next, I have two shows that are (potentially permanently) On Hold, simply because it’s time for me to move on and I don’t have the time or energy to marathon them when the Winter shows are starting to wrap up:

Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits, because even though I initially dropped it, I’ve heard a lot of good things since and I want to eventually give it another shot.

Yowamushi Pedal Glory Line, because despite the fact that I still enjoyed the previous season, this one started right in the middle of my burnout and I only heard bad things about it. I’ll get to it eventually, but it’s a shame that this series has been on a clear trend downwards since its revival.

And finally, the stuff I finished!

The Ancient Magus’ Bride (6/10)

Keep in mind that this is here entirely on the merits of its aesthetic and its side characters - in the end, Ancient Magus’ Bride is a Beauty and the Beast story where the beast gets what he wants without learning to be less of a dick or even apologizing for his clearly wrong actions.

Major 2nd (7/10)

Always pleased to have even just Good sports shows around, and this one is a very effective reboot of a classic series that’s never made its way stateside (man, the underperformance of Big Windup! really did a lot of damage to this genre in the West). With good character development and a decent second-generation premise, Major 2nd has the potential to be the beginning of a solid baseball story, assuming that it gets a needed followup.

IDOLiSH7 (7/10)

I dropped IDOLiSH7 when it first aired, and though I wound up enjoying it after I was very strongly urged to revisit it, the problems it started with never quite left it behind - that is, it has an okay cast of characters but doesn’t present even passable performance sequences, and if you’re going to include big song-and-dance numbers, they have to be good, or you may as well just be UtaPri.

ClassicaLoid Season 2 (8/10)

In 2017, I gave the first season of ClassicaLoid a near-perfect 9/10, and while this season gives us a satisfying conclusion to the story, it does things both a little better than the first, and also not quite as great. It’s story is much more well-integrated over the runtime so it doesn’t happen all at once in a few chunks, and the jokes that work are still absolute genius, but there’s simply too much that doesn’t quite land correctly, and a little too much immature humor, for it to reach the same lofty Hall of Fame heights as the first season. Still, one of the most underrated shows I’ve ever seen.

My Hero Academia Season 3 (8/10)

God, Izuku in that onesie is too damn cute.

My problems with Hero Academia are frustratingly persistent - the show is at its best when the students are competing with other students, because outside of last season’s Stain (a villain whose motivation is specifically related to the world of MHA), the villains are just not at all compelling and they all seem a little too generic for their own good. I just want Horikoshi to be a little bit less predictable of an author and do a little less reading of the Standard Shounen Playbook. Luckily, when it works, it works magnificently.

March Comes in Like a Lion S2 (8/10)

March remains director/auteur Akiyuki Shinbo’s most accessible work, and one of his masterpieces, as a well-paced and marvelously moody story of a depressed shogi prodigy learning to be a normal teenager before his youth completely passes him by, and the fantastic characters that surround him with their own complex problems and motivations. I just really, really hope it gets a third season eventually, because this one did not leave off on a satisfying conclusion.

Speaking of which...

Food Wars! Shokugeki no Soma S3 (9/10)

It’s almost a shame that My Hero Academia became hugely popular purely based on its accessibility to American audiences, because Food Wars pretty squarely deserves to be the reigning Shonen Jump king - each season has only improved on the previous one, and this one was based entirely on a continuing arc that could only have happened in the universe of this show, Fighting Food Fascism. That being said, it also leaves off right in the middle of the arc (because it had almost caught up to the manga), meaning that we have to hope that it can remain relevant long enough for there to be enough source material for another season. I’ll be crossing my fingers until they snap.

Banana Fish (9/10)

Yes, this has risen a point since my review, but Banana Fish still deserves to be thought of as both a complete masterwork of crime fiction, being fantastically paced and expertly plotted in the use of its many, many twists, and a work that disappointed the side of me that hoped that, in adapting it into the modern day, MAPPA could have managed to get the author to let them depict what is clearly a queer relationship with the authenticity and legitimacy that it deserved. It’s still amazing, though, and Amazon should be pushing it with their most lavishly-made originals. At least it was the last noitaminA show they’ll get to totally bury.

And, finally, the one you all saw coming.

BEST OF THE YEAR: Lupin the 3rd Part V (10/10)

Lupin is, quite simply, one of the pinnacles of the medium. A simple idea that can (and did) go in thousands of different directions, handled by highly creative writers and an animation staff that has been knocking it out of the park for years, despite the fact that it is criminally (heh) unrecognized in the West. To put it simply, there’s a very, very good reason that it’s been around since the 70′s.

Okay! All I have left to do is finish Dragon Pilot (waiting on a friend) and we can get the last two lists out of the way! We’re almost done...

#multi 2018 #arcaneanime #year end anime list #final thoughts #lupin the third #my hero academia #banana fish #food wars #the ancient magus bride #March Comes in Like a Lion #idolish7 #major 2nd

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agustdef · 5 years

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Here & Now - Chapter 4

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,496

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn

Being set-up so we'd meet sooner worked in my favor. When Tuesday rolled around and Yoongi stepped into my studio things felt comfortable. Of course, there was the pressure of finding what he was looking for, but at least it wasn't coupled with nerves about making a fool of myself in my first impression. After spending several hours together through the weekend it was very clear what my sometimes weird personality was. He didn't seem put off by it, so all was well.

I tended to create samples in my free time, letting all the pent up music that formed in my brain out. Sometimes I used them for actual work and other times I just kept them to myself. My keep-to-myself library had great range and was good for showing an artist or fellow producer when gauging what steps to take before the work started.

Yoongi had a direction, but he refused to tell me specifics. We spent over half an hour listening to everything I had since he'd said it was better than hearing what I picked on assuming what he might want.

As we moved on from one to another I tried to use his expressions to figure out how he felt, but he just appeared neutral or mildly interested. It made me a teensy bit antsy. Long ago I'd learned that people wouldn't always like what I had to show and that was no reason to panic, but they usually showed an ounce of something.

When we finally finished he remained silent, glancing through the list of samples again. I stared him down hard and a minute or so in I saw him smirk. My eyes narrowed because something told me he was messing with me.

Another minute or two passed and I was done with it. "So, anything? Nothing? Partly something?"

He glanced my way and then pointed to a cluster of tracks. Leaning forward I squinted to see what they were, what I noticed got me excited. All the ones he'd identified had heavy reggae and trap influences; it was one of my favorites.

My excitement dulled a little and I narrowed my eyes again. "You knew twenty samples ago?"

Yoongi just smiled and nodded.

"Why does everyone live to fuck with me?" I mumbled.

Shaking my head I turned my attention back to the desktop screen, clicking around and ridding myself of everything but what he'd chosen. If I didn't keep things somewhat organized I'd only confuse myself.

Yoongi waited in silence until I looked his way again. Without a word from me he moved closer and took over the mouse. My eyes followed his to the screen, watching closely.

Once he got the file of his choice open he started talking. Part way through he switched from English to Korean, since I'd told him to use whatever was most comfortable with. Especially if he felt his thoughts would be expressed easier.

"The mini will have this vibe, except one song. That one will be more like Seesaw. It's not something new but fits with what I'm going for. I already have ideas of which songs I've written that could work. None of these are exact, but I know that we can figure out what will work. This one though..." He continued on, talking about which aspects of the track that he'd like to put in and what just wouldn't work for him.

How long we stayed like that I was unsure. He just let out all his wants and expectations, while fiddling with my program to create some random mock-up of what he was verbalizing. I listened intently, purely focused on what he was saying. At some points I interjected, bouncing ideas off of him and getting clarification on certain things.

There were disagreements here and there, but nothing that was out of the norm for two people's visions coming together. It was a nice conversation, one that I hadn't had in weeks since. I'd been working on things only I produced or working with others remotely for a while, so actual back and forth in real time had been lacking.

Picking his brain to figure out his thought process was also nice. As much as it was a work experience where I was to take part I was also learning. Or trying to do as always with producers I admired.

"All of it needs to be perfect, so it probably will be months before I even hint the idea of it coming out. Though we may just drop it without warning." He turned to me, staring into my eyes.

"That's fine. My schedule gets hectic sometimes, but never enough that this would be a problem. Is there a specific song you had in mind for me or?" I asked.

"All of it," he said without hesitation.

I froze, my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. Yoongi just smirked, watching me for a moment and then returning his gaze back to the screen.

The ever constant theme of him shocking me was becoming a tiny bit annoying, but I also wasn't mad about it. It was cool. Working on whole albums, mini or otherwise, wasn't something I got to do; in fact, it only happened once before for an artist not very well known.

Everything about the situation just kept becoming more exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Before I could dive deeper into my head, which was rarely good, Yoongi pulled my attention back to the computer. He was playing one of my older samples, his head nodding along with it. He wore an intense look, eyes focused on the screen. Every so often he'd pause and relisten to a certain snippet.

"This section fits well. How'd you get it?" He asked, only sparing me a short glance before replaying it yet again.

"Uh, it's been so long. I was still using Studio One at the time and was just messing around. I think I was having a shit day and in the mood for something bass heavy. No song was filling the void, so I made something." The memory was fuzzy, but the emotion behind it was quite clear.

Yoonhi paused the music, turning to stare at me. His expression was concentrated like before, but I couldn't quite tell what he could have been thinking. Seconds passed and I felt more awkward than before. I went to speak just as he opened his mouth to say something, but a knock on the studio door pulled our attention.

I hopped up to answer it but was nearly plowed over in an instant. Matthew was holding bags of food and speaking rapidly. Yoongi's manager almost didn't catch my attention because he'd entered so much quieter.

"It's almost two thirty and you last ate at nine. Since it was only the smallest of breakfast sandwiches and you only ate half I expect you to eat all of this." He spoke in a way that left no room for disagreement.

After setting out the container, filled with rice and some steak and pepper mixture, he stared me down and left. I was used to his behavior so it wasn't something surprising. However, both Yoongi and his manager appeared shocked and amused. The corners of their lips fighting not to turn up.

"He can be a lot," I said.

They both just nodded. I focused on my food as they had a brief exchange and Yoongi was handed food as well. A moment later we were alone again and immersed in the lunch break that was forced upon us. Neither spoke, just eating in the quiet of the space until I turned my Spotify on shuffle to do away with the silence. Too much of it made me uncomfortable.

Food became too much after I'd reached two-thirds of the way finished, so I pushed the container away. Sighing, I chewed on my lower lip and then found myself randomly spewing out words.

"Are you sure about this? I could totally find you someone else who's more versed in this?"

Internally I groaned, chiding myself for the nonsense. He'd already made it clear that he'd made the choice on his own, and I kept feeling this doubt gnawing at me. It'd been months since I'd felt that way, so I guess it was just reminding me that it was always there lurking and ready to strike.

"Why would I not be sure?"

"I don't know. Uh... I'm just making sure you're sure." I shrugged and shoved the straw in my mouth to stop any other dumb questions.

Yoongi eyed me carefully, brow raised in confusion. After a moment he sat down his fork and turned to stare into my soul. "Kendall I chose you because you fit. Your work is good and Joon speaks highly of you. Perfect for this project. I'm sure of it."

He gave a smile and then pushed my container closer. "He said all of it."

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #original character #oc #suga x oc #yoongi x oc #bts fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #producer!oc #writer!oc #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts fan fic

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elizabethrobertajones · 6 years

Text

13x21 watching notes

Not. Enough. Hugs.

Expectations: Bobo is gonna write his last episode which will make every other writer heading to the door trying to churn out some swan song fare thee well nonsense taste like ash.

I will probably cry because this mofo makes me cry all the time and I hate it because I never cry at Supernatural and the last couple of years Bobo has me leaking everywhere

Recap!

Lucifer saying they'll find Jack and remake the world in his image. Gross. No thanks.

Sam and Rowena bonding over seeing Lucifer's true face and it being awful

Gabriel complaining they took all his grace

Michael, Mary and Jack's adventures

Gabriel and Rowena being the most powerful allies. What a world. Like 10 episodes ago it wasn't even like this at all :P

A last glimpse of Sam's stupid parting shot about them dying together. Whee. Sarcasm font.

Um.

Okay so this is either a dream or the future (yes.) or my next fic, and I'm only 1 second in, but all I know is that Jack, dressed all in white because he's Jesus, is watching Dean eat his 7th bit of pizza with pure horror, while Cas lovingly, smilingly, chides him for it.

Oh yeah there's Mary, laughing in the background. And she's wearing a different but still white and blue (Mother Mary) plaid.

This dialogue is literally bunker fluff banter about Jack counting Dean eating his pizza slices and Dean calling him a narc for saying so.

"John and me, we used to call him our little piglet" I am so happy. Pre-tragedy Winchester family fluff. My heart.

Sam offering to help Mary do the dishes

Dean getting Cas to punt him another pizza once Mom is no longer watching. Dear lord. The silent "gimme pizza" moment of our dreams.

Sam checking in on Mary!! How are you since... Being over there

Sam's wearing the same shirt from the end of 12x22

"I always knew you and Dean would come and save us. And you did."

Yep that was Sam's dream, which of all the available options was the absolute worst because he's the one who wasn't talking at the table, but has been missing a family the most, missing out on Mary, missing out on having Cas and Jack around, having Dean being normal. Wanting the relationship with Mary, and all the fun nuggets like "my little piglet" which makes her tease Dean and make Sam laugh... Oh god my heart. I'm a minute in and I can't take it.

And Mary starting to act like an alarm clock, Sam Sam Sam Sam, to wake him up. Oh no. Oh noooo it's awful. The alarm clock corrupted her in the dream: his image of her is so dependant on what's around him, so easy for her to be snatched away, when he thinks he's having a good moment with her at long freaking last

Last season I staked my entire house on the Sam and Mary dynamic being key and it felt like very few others cared, certainly not in the wider fandom, and along with that there was a whole lot of not understanding either of them. I'm so glad that Sam and Mary's dynamic has been more centrally placed this season and signposted because I'm so fed up that I spent all that energy on it last season and ended up feeling like I was shouting into a void :P

"He needed to extract his grace *finger quotes* in private" *Sam looks up like uuuuuh* "So I left him alone in Dean's room" *Dean looks up like EXCUSE ME DEAR DID YOU JUST SAY -

"What? No!"

Sam smirks, Dean looks pleadingly at Cas.

I was just joking in 13x20 about how Dean n Gabriel have a weird vibe about them, but I think at this point Dean is just thinking you left the skankiest archangel alone in my room???

I don't think there's a subtextual whatnow between them about this, he just doesn't want to know what angel grace looks like under a blacklight

Awww Rowena is wearing orange... With a turtleneck.....

#Samwitch forever #Jinkies!

making jokes about Gabriel's essence last episode and now the left him alone in the room to do it, and showing off Zerbe's merch and they're all just peering at that lil dot of glowiness... Gabriel is getting a lot of impotency jokes here.

"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions!"

*Dean pulls another face re: emissions*

Jesus CHRIST the rift is literally SAGGING FLACCIDLY

Bobo I hate you

of the 5 of them, Rowena's face remains, as ever, a total gem.

holy shit and then Gabriel lowers his blade as well

who DIRECTED THIS SHIT?

They all sigh and Gabriel lets his blade flop entirely to his side

Rowena looks completely unimpressed.

"Well that was fast" "One could say premature." "I thought it would be enough!"

Jesus christ what is happening in the latter part of the episode that we're getting this scene now?

Oh my god that was just the COLD OPEN

As always though, Cas being the one who has to say the really horrible thing, like, they will all just wait for him to proclaim the bad news. Maybe he just likes people to say things out loud even when they're obvious *clears throat* but also he always has that streak where he will suggest the awful plan and be first to realise some horrible path that they must take.

TFW retires to the kitchen to talk. Sam sits on the steps, now the exile, while Cas leans on the family dinner table. It's the place he goes in his head which has the best service. The connection to his family. Dean leans as well, Cas and Dean mirroring each other, providing more of a united front, as the two of them have the emotional headspace to root for this plan, however Sam feels, while Sam is caught by his trauma, isolated, hunched up and small on the floor, less of their party.

Every time it ends the same way - with the Devil on the loose again.

Hey at least this time he's already on the loose so even the worst case is that nothing changes :P

Well no the worst case is that he somehow possesses Rowena and takes the most powerful witch ever for a joyride.

Actually no he's locked in his vessel

the worst case scenario is they kill him before they get the grace, so they have to wait for Gabriel to charge up and *oh no* Lucifer is dead

God, Cas saying "the worst possible violation" re: being possessed by Lucifer is so ridiculously validating. He understands what Sam went through and he's showing he understands, feels the same way. The two of them have this connection of knowing what it's like, and Sam hears from Rowena that she knows what it's like to be tortured by him, hears from Cas what it's like to be possessed by him... His support group is here

I still love the camera angle of Cas standing in front of Dean and Dean behind him and the camera is flattening them together.

After the directing on the soggy rift, and Mittens telling me Phil is responsible I'm just like... no surprises here mate.

Plus. Cas had a shoulder!Dean there

Gabriel yoinks a book out of the shelf. It's Laying Pipe. A beginner's guide to plumbing and pipe fitting.

The cover is suitably phallic.

Gabriel is standing by the katana - the pointy one that the BMoL kept sharp. Ya know, sword sharpening.

Something he was having issues with just now despite all his sharp wooden swords last week.

Penis.

"It's not always like that!!""Gabriel, please."

She was waiting for him to break that tension.

*manly virile page turning*

*more angry defences*/"I don't need to hear excuses!"

... Rowena being left alone in the library to tease their other guests is the best part of the show and they should start a regular segment which is talkshow style of Rowena plus whatever poor sucker of the week is hanging out in the bunker

"It doesn't make me any less of an archangel!" "mright."

Oh now you're blaming Rowena for your perfomance, huh, buddy?

Rowena saying a drunk six year old could operate the spell is probably not commentary on the fact that Dean is the last person to do it, huh?

Rowena saying "the three amigos with their bro hugs, pep talks and melodrama" changes the fundamental dynamic - the stereotype of their nonsense is the three of them hugging it out, instead of in 10x05, the last time they were meta textually mocked for it, Sam n Dean getting the BM scenes, and Cas and Dean's in-show dynamic not being explictly referenced except for the fact that Dean clearly thought the personal space jokes were being taken too far before he had the explanation. This makes it clear the BM moments are about TFW, uses the fact that the 3 of them are all together right now to put them all in one room and have them talking out the latest issue together away from the others, in order to establish that Cas is firmly a part of what was once the bro dynamic.

Of course he's had moments where he hangs with them in what otherwise would be the BM scene of the episode right the way through, but THIS is a metatextual statement about the dynamic, one that is more than just Rowena's snark, but writer commentary on another level, pulling on our pre-existing understanding of the show mocking the BM moments to make it expressly clear that Cas is involved too.

If Bobo is on the way out to nurture the Wayward Sisters, then this is one of those closing statements on his way. That he wants us to understad that Cas is intrinsically a part of this dynamic, and that the FUNDAMENTAL CORE of the show, the BM Scene, is a TFW inclusive incident no matter whether all 3 of them are involved in it or not, it is a thing they do TOGETHER and is NOT a justthebros meta joke. The BM thing is not just the concept of Sam and Dean looking weepy at each other over the car. It's their FAMILY, together, just as Bobo shows Sam dreaming of their FAMILY being TFW, mom and Cas's weird son who counts how much pizza you eat.

Jesus christ I was going to make a joke that Rowena and Gabriel would probably bang as my next point to break the mood of that rant but I hit play and she's checking out his tush and inner monologuing it.

Never mind.

they gonna bang

"She's so tiny. and angry."

I stan 1 heterosexual couple.

Ahahahaha he noticed her dancer's body and wondered how flexible she is. Oh dear. I'm gonna back off because I may or may not have written this exact thing in my notes in her last episode

They're adorable.

"So, we've a little time."

Oh dean's room is not going to get out of this unscathed

She raises up the wooden pestle.

"to fill what?"

*red flashing sign which says 'PENIS' is glaring uncontrollably in the corner of the screen*

Listen, because these two are the skankiest archangel and rowena, who is, well, rowena, we are getting to enjoy subtext for the sake of immediate pay off that they're openly attracted to each other and we're literally getting their checking each other out and staring into each other's eyes montage.

Sure does help with the show doing this more subtly in other places.

SHE'S

Phil -

BOBO

yeah and abruptly to give them some privacy, back to TFW who are gonna come to whatever conclusion, go looking for Gabriel and Rowena, and end up knocking on Dean's door, open it, there they are in a heap in his bed.

Bobo "invented the fan fiction gap" Berens writing like it's going out of style

Oh no Sam's sitting next to the coffee maker that was briefly haunted by Kevin, in a Bobo episode.

"I don't like it, but it's our only choice. Our fun, great choice."

Bobo I forgot how much I love your Sam. Your Sam makes me laugh and cry. And here is sarcastic Sam, briefly returning from hiatus, and of course you are writing my favourite and the best version of Sam.

He gets to call out how they make these choices all the time where they have to go do horrible things, even against their own trauma. When he'd rather be anywhere else.

Dean points out they only have 24 hours as a complaint, but Sam has a "wait a second" which maaay or may not be resolving that. But first, they go find their archangel and witch -

Dean looks a little perturbed

Awwww they were only making out among the books, not defiling Dean's room.

Shame.

Cas's head immediately tilts.

Fan fic aside, this is the most action the Bunker has EVER seen.

Unless Sam and Eileen hooked up in 12x17, that is.

The most confirmed action. No one has ever brought a date back here.

Dean still has not hooked up with Cas. That we know of.

"Reading books... here in the library... Which is the room we are in now." Well okay sure

Sam is utterly horrified. Take your shipping pick on which one or both of them he's most affronted by.

Gabriel is 100% that guy you can NOT introduce to your attractive friends.

What is Cas even doing

he's like... I can't even look at you, Gabriel

Oh, bartender in the shirt Gabriel will be in very shortly. *pretends not to be surprised*

I guess we're not hearing the plan yet :P

The bartender sounds awfully concerned about how much Lucifer is drinking - if it's Gabriel, he's needling him about how much he's drinking, maybe just to hear how he justifies it.

"I had Heaven... Hell... in the palm of my hand. You know what I learned?" Me, internally: "Nothing."

Lucifer grumbling about how they don't matter, though. They don't matter to HIM, but they matter for the world running smoothly. The natural order, the cogs whirring as they should, would all do so much better without you around. Wherever you go, you don't fit in and you suck.

- He moves on to grumbling about Jack and how he can't find him, how it doesn't matter because "his bitch of a mother poisoned him against me, probably forever" - humanity is a poison to him. Love and compassion literally toxic.

"I'm sure things will work out in the end. Jack will come around!"

I know Gabriel is just trying to troll Lucifer, but it does read as ominous, because all season the low key threat has been there that Jack might end up going at least a little darkside. More darkside than being reckless and accidentally hurting people. Going over a darkside where he doesn't immediately feel dreadful about the people who get hurt around him.

Hahaha he's so drunk. Rowena can magically roofie him. Wonderful.

And of course at the reveal, Gabriel has Kingdom Beer signs on top of him. The sign of the Kingdom of Heaven.

(I continue kinda wondering/hoping about the prodigal son return for Gabriel)

The thing is, how did they know Lucifer would be here or receptive to being roofied? Honestly, if this episode keeps up the quality, I won't question it beyond this note :P

Oh I love this confrontation.

"Surprise"

He runs out of a bright white door and right through the other side. This feels a LOT like Chuck's bar in 11x20, which calls back to Robbie's fare thee well episode, and reminds us that Gabriel really is the most like his father of all his sons, but also is the trap in the fairy tent with Charlie in 8x11.

There's a stag on the door, and that's more virile imagery.

If Gabriel is low on grace, I'd imagine this is Rowena's work, for the most part, and Gabriel just has to be intimidating enough to make this work.

Oh look here's someone else "back from the dead" ... It's not Lucifer's day

and even if she's not on the fullest full power, she's ready to meet Lucifer, because Sam's the one who kills her.

He must think he's hallucinating some people he killed, until it all get too real.

"Put me out of my misery! Go ahead!"

this is what I like to hear.

Sadly, I doubt they will. But it's still music to my ears.

Lucifer reaching the nadir of this arc, wherever it's supposed to go... I hope to his death, and it would be nice if he did die at the end of the season and the show was brave enough to move on to a world without Lucifer. With the apparent draw of Mark P to some parts of the audience I'm scared they won't, but at the very least it's seeming somewhat plausible right now, as he's brought down again and again and shown to have no moral fibre, no redeeming qualities, no drive to do better. Through and through, vile and useless, the story tells us, agreeing with how he comes across, how Mark P as Lucifer makes us feel in a way that the energy of Casifer did not convey at all because that all seemed to be at least for a purpose and Casifer was fun, and it didn't seem to be implying Lucifer trailing on and on and unendingly on as it ended up being >.>

take 2 of the spell! Lucifer trussed up in the Bunker library, Dean perching on a table. Get your muddy boots off that chair.

I love watching him kneeling there leaking grace. I'm petty like that... I feel like everyone in the room is too. It has a feeling like when they stole Metatron's grace, but instead no one cares to heal him and they're not even really aiming to make him human, they're just kinda. Ew. Lucifer. Who cares.

Rowena's trousers are INCREDIBLE.

I swear they used "stuck pig" in the last couple of episodes, or I'm imagining that?

Anyway Sam's plan is the least they could do to Lucifer

hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe

This is what happens when you suck: eventually a bunch of guys (gender neutral term) pin you down, leave you frozen in place dripping grace in a gross way, and all laugh at you before they leave

"When we get back, then we'll kill you."

Nice plan. Sadly, nice as it is, it gives Lucifer wiggle room to not be here or not be dead >.>

Rowena staying behind with him is unconcerning when Sam goes through the rift in the sense of character death (and she's a lot more confident around Lucifer all of a sudden :P) but I still don't want anything too bad to happen to her :( Still, it seems like a half-assurance that she will be okay.

"Save your mum," Rowena says.

The main problem, of course, being that Lucifer knows Mary is there, doesn't know Jack is there, but while they played it very cool, it's worryingly likely he's starting to guess that Jack is in there, whether he can sense him through the rift or he just has a feeling that this might be it...

Ahahahaha it's on a hill

Sam and Cas roll down it, Gabriel kinda cartwheels, and Dean comes out running and does a cool skid down the hill.

Oh gross, Gabriel ended up face first in Cas's crotch :P Dean is like FIRST YOU DEFILE ROWENA AND NOW CAS? HOW DARE -

IS THIS ENTIRE EPISODE ABOUT PENISES?

Dean is just... wow

You guys, sometimes it's easy to meta an episode and sometimes it is very very hard and sometimes you don't even wanna type the words very very hard

"Kentucky. North East Kentucky" are we here entirely because of Asmodeus or is this to put us kinda halfway between Michael and Jack's last known location? Not that they know Michael's current location.

Rowena has no time for concern trolling about being "left behind in the kitchen" when she knows the only reason Lucifer would care is because he wants out.

She also reminds him he's being emasculated, because yes, this episode is all about penises.

Lucifer switches to being annoying, singing the same song as the password to Billie's pad in 11x10 - the episode where he first killed Rowena.

Gabriel walking along holding his blade at a 90 dergee angle to his body

Cas drops by to casually check how Gabriel is feeling about running Heaven maybe perhaps pretty please?

Gabriel points out all the things which could kill them first before they ever need to worry about that

Oh gosh he did have sex with Rowena. At some point. Maybe not right then in the library unless he magically dressed her again. But some point between then and now. Pfft.

Poor Dean's room I guess.

Cas is remarkably good at steering this conversation, when he has a point to get to. He has learned a considerable amount of tact before getting to "Heaven's dying, Gabriel," because for one thing he hasn't hauled him aside and said all this sooner. I'm always pleased when Cas's people skills are apparent.

"They wouldn't want me back, Castiel. As far as they're concerned, I'm a screw up. Hell, as far as *I'm* concerned I'm a screw up."

Oh, no. Please don't make me like you any more than I already do. This is the opposite conversation to 9x18 in the car with meta!Gabriel, Cas having to bring up the subject of Gabriel leading Heaven. It has to be him because they need an archangel, so there's no double bluff to pull where Cas could do it instead. There were 9x18 vibes all over last episode right down to Dean having a soft moment over the phone from a motel with Cas while they worked 2 ends of a case, and now we have this. 9x18 is steering a little bit from the background.

I LIKE the idea of Gabriel as the leader of a mostly stable but much more chill Heaven. And this seems tentatively positive, that it's maaaaybe just a self-esteem/compatibility thing. This is what is immediately being offered as the first obstacle to mind. Gabriel left, because of his brothers, but they're all dead or bound in the main world. They daren't haul Michael out of the pit, even just to imprison him in Heaven to keep the lights on, apparently, which just leaves him. And his major reasons for leaving are all gone now. No more archangels. Just him.

Which means that I was right after Naomi asked Cas to see about getting him back, that this comes down to how Gabriel feels, that after all this isolation, it's about does he feel he can return home, and how will home feel about him returning.

"Well, heaven's been run into the ground by upstanding angels. Perhaps a screw up is what we need."

ILY babe

*Cas looks hopefully at Gabriel*

*Conversation ends with a long shot of their walk in the woods*

Well that was a veeeery interesting note to leave that. As I was saying a few hours ago about 13x20, it may be that Gabriel doesn't need to find something to stand for to die for, but to LIVE for, which is a much more positive thing. I really actually kinda like the way this dovetails with Heaven's problems as a reason to compel him to go back, because Gabriel approaching it like a screw up who doesn't want to break anything sure is better than an egomaniac having a go.

Sam is feeling bouncier just to be in the same universe as mom and Jack

he wants the pizza party

let him have the fucking pizza party

it was just his birthday!

He's wearing his dumb backpack he's had season season 1 and it makes me unhappy in a "oh god he was so tiny" way

He's also being unnervingly optimistic about how close they are to winning, to getting Mary and Jack back, and he's finally got optimism. His mood is basically defined by this to such a horrible degree.

... Which is totally not a parallel to the beginning of the season where Dean was miserable until they got Cas back at which point he was so happy that Sam called him out on it

*distant screams of campers being menaced by a wendigo in the woods*

"Not our world, not our problem."

Dude, they're hunters wherever

Interesting how everyone here knows about the supernatural, so random hikers keeping low off the grid will know what was attacking them. And some basic lore about how vampires were affected by the lower population and starvation

TBH the comparison to the wendigo in looks isn't too wildly far off; they're both humans who have become completely monstrous in a way where they go off the deep end

The rebels Jack and Mary set up a colony there ... that could be anyone

Oh, great, tunnel of terrifying vampires. This is a distraction/time waste that will probably eat up the rest of the episode for them and cause nothing but pain >.>

Oh, we're only halfway through...

Gah how are we only halfway through??

Oh no, Rowena. Being left alone with Lucifer being annoying is one thing. Being left alone with him talking about how he murdered her is not a thing where she can play up the vindictiveness of the situation... trauma is trauma and just because she has him bound and knows he can't kill her isn't something that makes her entirely immune to facing that :(

Oh Rowena

Oh no

... Although within that Rowena casually calls them "his three fathers" which is hilarious and also particularly awful for Lucifer to hear because it was bad enough knowing that Jack liked Cas more than him when he didn't know that

Yeeeep she didn't know that winding him up makes him stronger because anger is where his power comes from because he's so fuckin awful

Also ew he has something to fight for.

At least until Jack smushes him like a bug /wishful thinking

Oh for - he didn't even jump into the portal, she threw him off of her and he went in it by accident.

I mean, just for accountability stakes, adding it all up, could that have been any more her fault? Bleh :P

I assume the portal will still stay open a lil while, but

Oh, she's packing the Black Grimoire.

Good.

Now, is she actually going into the rift to save them, while putting on her fancy coat and scarf and all?

Or is she leaving?

"Not my problem!"

Those guys are your friends.

"BOLLOCKS!"

How DARE I have feelings. FEELINGS.

I guess Gabriel is also on the other side of the rift.

They're soulmates :P

Omg it's not the old mine from 1x02 and 11x19

I'm actually disappointed

Heheh everyone has glowsticks

party!Cas

THIS PLACE IS SCARY AND I DON'T LIKE IT

WHERE IS THE RAVE?

Wonder how much speculation we'll get about Dean looking up at that one bright light and being in a spotlight under it... Like, Michael-wise.

It is interesting to single him out with the spotlight.

*Cas and Gabriel just casually moving rocks*

Look, Cas could blast those all away but they're trying to play it cool for the campers

Who may or may not get picked off by vampires

No, Sam is wandering

he will be picked off by vampires

Bobo you need to stop killing Sam

I mean theoretically you just murdered Sam and are ditching the show to go write Wayward like hah hahahaha no consequences here I am the showrunner, now I will make Claire and Kaia kiss

Think of how Jody will feel, my guy

...

Okay that's enough of the "Sam is permanently dead lol" joking.

"Saaaam!" Cas yells and disappears down the tunnel

Cas comes back Sam-less and makes Dean leave too. I'm gonna be ship neutral on account of how Sam just got eaten by vampires. But it was intense and sad.

Yet, somehow, less sad than that time Cas died in front of Dean, when it comes to OTT melodrama. I mean there was a lot of shouting, but Dean's still moving.

Dean looks great

Hey, I guess 11x17 was good practice for this.

Cas ought to be walking with him holding his hand. It's criminal to make him do this alone

Wow, Sam you look terrible.

Guys, are you really going to destroy the angel warding on the camp? That's SUPER DANGEROUS

MARY

HUGS

YAY

(Why are you not hugging Cas?)

So yeah, you gotta tell mom that Sam's dead now

Just to get you

You can have one (1) family member at a time

Aw no don't cry!!!

Look, your brother was just taking a snooze because the rave got too real! He and his glowstick are fine!

...

Somehow

Is he a vampire?

Mittens tells me he's not a vampire, which just makes this all the more confusing

shit

Sam's like, can we go back to when I was dead?

Okay now he's heard Lucifer's story he's like can I REALLY go back to being dead?

This is like when someone wakes you up in the morning and you just don't wanna get out of bed. In that moment, no matter how much you love that person, they are to you metaphorically what Lucifer is to Sam right now.

Fitting, that it started with him vs his alarm clock as a loved one

Now we see the even darker side to mornings

Look, I'm kinda... horrified here so I'm just...

Can you kill this fucker and get back to your family already?

HONESTLY if I was Sam I'd take my chance with the wall of angry vampires rather than stick around for this conversation

"You need me"

... no shade on that concept though or anything, when it's a wall of angry vampires vs pretending to like Lucifer so he can hang out with Jack

I mean seriously I love Sam to bits but I'd be genuinely happy to see him torn apart by vampires again just to spite Lucifer.

Oh JACK no sweetie

We didn't even see them getting to hug each other, it's just straight to Gabriel sitting quietly, Jack pacing miserably, demanding why they didn't bring Sam back

Oh, he's fine

all that stress for nothing

"Please don't judge this friend I made at the rave, it was a really really bad night."

Do you ever find yourself staring into space thinking, "I would genuinely have been happier if the last shot of the episode was Sam being torn apart by vampires for the second time in 15 minutes?"

This is gonna go over swimmingly in a Buckleming episode for all the character dynamics. They are the only writers left who seem to actually like Lucifer.

Why does everything build up to stuff that needs to be handled by not-Buckleming right before a Buckleming episode anyway?

#13x21 #my stuff #I am in emotional shock #season 13 spoilers #D:#bobo fanclub #how very dare you

159 notes · View notes

free-falling-grenade · 6 years

Text

I accidentally wrote a fanfic while writing my essay.

Ff.net -- Song/Video inspiration: Never Seen Anything Quite Like you

An annoying ringing startled her awake from her deep slumber as she groaned loudly which was muffled by her pillow. She hoped that ignoring it would stop the caller but she was proven wrong as the ringing has started again few seconds after it died down. Beca reluctantly opened her heavy eyes, looking around blindly for her phone. After moments of flailing around like a fish out of water, the brightness of her phone light blinds her for a minute. She shuts her eyes while hitting the answer button.

"BECA MITCHELL. I need you to explain to me this public display without any care of your personal image -"

The voice of her publicist stung her eardrums as she pulled the device away from her ears. She sat upright leaning on the bed frame and took the chance to glance at the time revealing it was 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday. Her blood boiled in exasperation as she could still hear her agent's muffled rant.

That was the unfortunate downside of becoming the famous Beca Mitchell. She gained some unwanted people who lectured her of what she does in public more than her own parents ever did. She wondered what she did this time round.

As the ranting seemed to subside on the other line, the brunette finally put the device back on her ears ready to hear whatever nonsense her agent had for her non-coffee fueled self this early in the morning. She blinked a few times, sleep still in her eyes, clearing her throat.

"What did I do again?"

Her agent, Sam let out a deep sigh from the other line, "There's a video The Script just released and you are seen to be very lovey dovey with one of your best friends in the show. The camera angles at both of you at certain times and now the Internet has gone crazy."

Unfortunately for Beca, her memory served to fail her at the early hours of the day, "Huh. The Script? Lovey Dovey? The fuck?"

With another deep but longer sigh, "Just.. What did we tell you about public displays? We now have to go through all the process for you to release an official announcement of your relationship. And as much as you love your privacy, you kind of screwed yourself over."

Beca, who was now in deep confusion of who and what relationship her agent is talking to her about, her faced scrunched up, eyes narrowed trying to pull out all the information that had happened before but she came out empty.

After a few moments of silence, Sam finally understanding Beca would have to be actually sane and awake to actually process the information that she had thrown at her, she released yet another sigh, "Okay. I know it's an early Sunday, Mitchell. But I need you to check out the video as soon as you can once you had your coffee and do everything you need to do to get your brain awake. Call me then."

The sound of the call ending shook Beca's trance state back to normal as she stared mouth agape at her phone. She let the device slide down from her hands and head fall back on the bed frame. She looked around her dimly lit bedroom of her LA apartment, the sun rays trying to escape her dark curtains to remind her of the time of day but she ignored it laying back down to rest on her pillow, her eyes falling back shut, her breathing getting deeper as she let herself fall back to sleep. Sam could wait another 2 hours.

. . .

Meanwhile, Chloe was making herself and her roommate some breakfast in her dorm room at UC Davis. The peaceful mornings like these she appreciated the roommate she had who cherished the calmness of it. She moved around making some bacon and eggs for the both of them while her roommate Sharon played music from YouTube as she sipped her cup of coffee. The song suddenly transitioned to one of her favorites as she casually hummed along with what sounded like a live version.

"Oh. My. Gosh."

Chloe turned around to the sound of her room mate's surprised tone. She shot her a questioning look watching her stick her face so close to her laptop screen. She turned off the stove and placed the food on the plate ready to serve before she started questioning her roommate. She noticed how the song kept pausing and playing as she watched Sharon clicking then rewinding the song back and forth.

"What are you doing, Sharon?" Chloe raised an amused eyebrow at her roommate who was still going back and forth sticking her face close to the screen then backing away with her eyebrows up her hair line.

Sharon's hazel eyes widened as she now met Chloe's gaze. The redhead furrowed her brows as she observed her roommate looking more wild with her messy black hair tied up in a bun with her wide eyes directed at her.

"You-what. Her?! She...-close. Lord." She let out some type of scoff with seemed to hold a mixture of disbelief and delight.

Chloe's face broke into an amused grin as she tried to stifle her laugh, "Words, Shar. Use words. I don't understand?"

Sharon's mouth formed into a wide smile as she shook her head. "I knew you weren't an open book as you seemed to be."

The redhead tilted her head in confusion.

"You and her, huh?" Her expression quickly changing from shocked to teasing. She grabbed a piece of bacon chewing on it while she stared at Chloe expectantly.

Chloe raised a challenging brow wondering what her roommate was getting at. Sharon simply turned her laptop facing the redhead and pressed play.

Chloe felt her heart skip a few beats as her favorite song echoed around the kitchen room while she watched the live version in front of her, re-living the moment. She bit her lip to hold back a smile but betraying her as she glanced up to meet her teasing roommate's excited hazel eyes and in awe matching her 1000megawatt grin.

Chloe let out a chuckle as the song ended, her body suddenly feeling extra giddy and more alive. She didn't even have her coffee yet.

"Huh. I didn't know that was being filmed.." Chloe started as nibbled on her bacon with a big smile on her face.

Sharon leaned forward, her hands propped under her chin, elbows on the table and food now forgotten, "Spill, Chloe Beale."

. . .

Beca stood in her sweatpants and an oversized Barden t-shirt that was tied on her side to fit on her waist as she stretched in the kitchen letting out a loud yawn. Perks of living in your own apartment is looking like a slob without anyone to worry about seeing you, she thought to herself. She turned on the coffee pot as she opened her laptop that she left on the kitchen island last night.

The early morning encounter with her publicist flashed as a reminder as she sipped her black coffee while scrolling through her emails. She released a content sigh as she leaned back on the chair she sat on. When she reached halfway through her coffee she was ready to face whatever video her publicist was talking about. She only vaguely remembered her saying The Script which is the the band she saw with Chloe about a few months ago.

She resigned to opening her twitter account and just see the news from whatever she got tagged on. Only three words in a hashtag caught her eye immediately followed by a YouTube link. It led her to a live version of the song she held of high importance, that was being played in the same concert and place Beca took Chloe to see the band.

She bit her lip anxiously as she hit play and putting the video into full screen.

*flashback*

"Are you guys cool if we do another song?"

The crowd around them goes wild screaming as they now all switched to turn to the change of position the band had settled to play the next song which fortunately out of pure luck was right beside Beca and Chloe. Chloe clutched onto Beca's arm jumping excitedly up and down. Beca merely rolled her eyes in amusement.

"If you came with someone, who's your boyfriend or girlfriend. Or somebody that you're trying to make your boyfriend or girlfriends. Please pull them a little bit closer for this next song, it's called - Never seen anything quite like you."

As the instrumental plays in the background, Beca could feel her heartbeat thudding rapidly in her chest as she felt Chloe beside her change her position from her arms looped around Beca's to wrapping both her strong arms around the small brunette's waist and leaning her head right on her shoulder. Beca's arm automatically goes around Chloe welcoming her warmth with as much love as the redhead was giving.

"And I'm dedicating it to that girl right there" Danny, the singer points down at one of the fans.

See, Beca knew this song. It was too cheesy, too much gooey love stuff that kind of makes her feel uncomfortable and awkward but she would be lying if she said she didn't like it. Only because of the woman who was why she went to this concert in the first place. The said woman who was impossibly pulling her closer as they swayed as the instrumentals opened through the first verse.

"Here we go"

The piano instrumentals suddenly shot a giddy feeling through Beca's body, sending goosebumps around her arms and neck.

'I think I want you more than want And know I need you more than need I wanna hold you more than hold When you stood in front of me'

Beca remembered the first time she ever listened to the song, she simply rolled her eyes at it. It was a typical cheesy, love song that wasn't different from any other one out there. That was till she heard Chloe singing it for the first time. It was still a new song from the band from their recent album, The Script being a little under rated so not everyone knew the song since it didn't play in the radio. It was a few months before the USO tour, a normal weekend and one of Beca's rare day offs back when they used to live in the small apartment at Brooklyn. Amy was nowhere to be seen probably in one of the guy's she was on and off sleeping with, which left Beca and Chloe the apartment to themselves like the usual. Beca was wakened by the soft sound of Chloe's humming which usual did the opposite effect but instead she was waking up to a feeling of a strange serene vibe that was floating in the confined space of their apartment. There was soft music playing in the background, barely audible but highlighting Chloe's moderately pitched humming more. She was moving around the kitchen cleaning as Beca sat upright slowly rubbing the sleep from her eyes while she observed the redhead sway gracefully around the tiny spaced area in front of her.

A gentle smile grew on the brunette's lips as she leaned back her heart skipping a few beats at the sight of the redhead. The light squeak of the old fold out bed gave her away just as Chloe spun around an expression of surprise passing her face, quickly replaced by a delighted grin towards the DJ. Her electric bright blues meeting her midnight still-full-of-sleep eyes.

'I think you know me more than know And you see me more than see I could die now more than die Every time you look at me

Well I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight No, I've never seen anything quite like you'

While the whole auditorium started singing along as well as Chloe, Beca took the opportunity to glance at the redhead in her arms. The entire dome arena suddenly became hushed around her as she stared at her best friend's features. The lights of the arena reflecting on her vibrant blue eyes as she watched the band playing right in front of her, her perfectly shaped lips singing the words of the song out loud with a smile that never left her face but only seemed to grow bigger.

'When it's right it's more than right Cause you feel it more than feel I could take this moment now Right into the grave with me'

Once she learned the redhead's new love for the band, she knew one day she had to take her to one of their concerts. Of course, that opportunity didn't show up till after the USO tour which was definitely almost forgotten till Theo casually mentioned The Script and the word tour in one sentence. Without a single thought, she demanded to know where to get tickets and how she would work extra hard for it. Theo did remind her how the tour was only in Europe but that didn't stop her from buying them anyway.

'Oh well I've seen you in jeans with no make-up on And I've stood there in awe as your date for the prom I'm blessed as a man to have seen you in white But I've never seen anything quite like you tonight No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight'

The USO tour was the official time when she had come to terms with her feelings for her best friend. The feelings were too intense to deny and she knew (even when she was with Jesse) she would do anything for the redhead. She didn't know why then but now she did, and she was ready to do something about it. Better late than never?

She didn't get the tickets till she was sure Chloe's schedule was clear and so was hers. She had work extra hours, produced and wrote 5 songs with barely any sleep for DJ Khaled which he was definitely proud nonetheless. It gave her the opportunity to take a week off. She had drove to Chloe's vet school which was nearly a 6 hour drive. Ever since they moved away from their apartment, they both had an unspoken promise of visiting each other no matter what. Beca, anxious as ever had the tickets (2 plane tickets to Amsterdam with their The Script concert tickets) in her backpack, thinking of how exactly to bring up the topic. She gnawed on her lip the whole drive, too nervous to think about how tired she was.

Luckily, Chloe's roommate was never there whenever Beca visited. She never really questioned it. She got to see her best friend the way she usually did back when they lived together, in casual jeans and a white v-neck shirt with no make up on, looking naturally beautiful. She bounced happily seeing Beca on her doorway. To say how Chloe reacted after revealing her surprise was a total success but also slightly embarrassing how the redhead basically lifted Beca effortlessly twirling her around in a bear hug and smothering her with kisses around the face. The brunette of course being herself just shrugged it off, "It's nothing dude. You deserve it. You love them"

Chloe beamed then- her smile, her eyes, her entire existence seemed to be dazzling emitting so much happiness. It made Beca want to melt right there.

'In your eyes oh in your eyes In our hearts yeah in our hearts Sometimes words just ain't enough For this love that's more than love'

She didn't know when she ever got this soft but god, as she stared longer at the epitome of happiness around her arms, she didn't know how lucky she got. She finally admitted herself then and there - Beca Mitchell was so damn in love. The butterflies in her stomach were already crazy till Chloe slowly lifted her head up from her shoulder, her glowing blue eyes meeting Beca's intense dark blue ones, a warm smile that she held so contagious the brunette couldn't help herself but smile twice as big.

They were still swaying with the music, but now Beca positioning herself properly so she was facing the redhead in her arms. The duos' faces somehow twice as close, their foreheads leaning against each other as they drowned themselves in each others gazes, the music around them enhancing each emotion that had been heightened. Beca finally joined in with singing as the last chorus played.

Beca leaned in placing a chaste kiss on the redhead's cheek as she sang the last lyric so softly and delicately right by her ear, "No, I've never seen anything quite like you tonight"

Chloe's heart soared with the crowds cheering that filled the whole arena as loudly as they can after the song ended. Beca felt the older's hands tighten around her waist and her hot breath on the crook of her neck where she placed a gentle kiss on it. They still slowly swayed hugging in each others arms while the band made their way out. The crowd still roaring in delight. Chloe finally pulled back a little bit, staring at her long time best friend who she had been so desperately in love with and finally felt all the love she felt be reciprocated back at her. She never felt so happy in her life.

They walked back into their hotel hand in hand, no words had been exchanged as the high of the whole day was still in their body. Before reaching their hotel room though, Beca nervously stopped at her tracks making Chloe stop with her. She nervously gnawed on her lip as she looked around at anything besides the woman in front of her. It was insane how she suddenly felt so confident earlier and now she was becoming a nervous wreck. The redhead's giggle made her look back at her though. Suddenly, her best friend's soft hands were now placed so gently on Beca's cheek which instantly calmed the dj's nerves. Beca's arms now enveloping the taller girls waist, her view of the redhead disappearing as their faces came closer and lips meeting for the first time. The touch sending electric shivers down their spine, so sweet, so tender, so everything they ever wanted and waited for so damn long.

. . .

Beca didn't notice the smile that grew on her face as she watched the whole live video. They were simply in the background on the right side of the band playing, clung into each other. The camera focused on all the couples and family moments around the arena including them. A few extra shots of them as well as the moment Beca placed a kiss on Chloe's cheek.

The whole video sent a rush of nostalgia, which was kind of ridiculous judging it wasn't that long ago. But it made her feel so damn good and somehow she had gained all the energy the coffee failed to give her. They did their best to keep that moment private. That meant restricting Chloe from telling literally everyone via instagram that she went to Amsterdam out of all places during her week off with no other than Beca Mitchell. Also for Beca's sake they kept low key to keep her now new famous self under the radar. They've successfully pulled that off and their secret relationship (even against the Bellas) since that day. Only hanging out in far away places which were no where near the area of California or any hot spot hangout place. They liked it that way.

But of course because of the inevitability of the whole situation, it would've been revealed one way or another. Beca simply chuckled at herself leaning back on her chair shaking her head.

She felt her phone vibrate on the table, expecting Sam's name instead seeing Chloe's flashing instead. Her smile widened.

"Morning sleepy head."

"Excuse you. I've been awake this whole time"

Chloe on the other line feigned a gasp, "That's a miracle, Becs. On a Sunday? It's just 10am. Are you sure your clock isn't set 2 hours advance?"

Beca rolled her eyes, "HarHar. Beale. Very funny. "

Chloe's soft chuckle echoed in the brunette's ear making her feel all giddy. "I'm guessing you've already seen the video?" Beca asked.

"Seen it? Played it twice. I didn't know you looked so in love with me. I'm flattered." Beca could hear the redhead's playful tone. She scoffed.

"Well I guess I have to admit that to the whole world now, huh"

"Sam?"

Beca simply sighed, "Yep. I guess it's time for that. Are you ready to get bombarded with all these questions? Y know I'm not."

Chloe smiled sympathetically, "I know you hate the publicity, Becs. We'll go through it together."

Beca leaned forward to prop her head up on the other hand, "I miss you."

"I miss you too. 2 more weeks."

"Mhm. 2 more."

"On the upside I've gained like 30,000 extra followers in instagram and twitter. Now I can admit to the world why I only date you coz of your fame!"

Beca snorted laughing, "Why do I love you again, dork?"

"I'm aca-amazing."

"You're aca-gross. And I'm aca-leaving. Oh god what have you done to me?! I have to call Sam. I'll call you later, Chlo. Love you."

. . .

A few hours later, after an agreement on the official announcement of Beca's relationship to the world wide web. A picture of Chloe kissing Beca on the cheek while she feigned a shocked expression had been posted on Beca's instagram. It had caused havoc and fans had officially gone crazy in the Beca Mitchell fandom. The caption included, "We're dating, what the fu-? Since when?" With Chloe Beale's accompanying post tagging her, adding fuel to the fire, a snapshot of them from the video looking in each others eyes - captioned "Never seen anything quite like you"

#bechloe #song fic #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #procrastination at its finest #never seen anything quite like you #its so gay and cheesy. i cried #lame and cheesy i know

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