#i am going to lose my shit if I have to experience yet another disappointing season 2 to an excellent season 1
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leahdrawsstuff · 20 days ago
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*pointing my hand shakily towards Severance Season 2 after the disaster that was Arcane season 2* do NOT fuck this up for me
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magustiel · 13 days ago
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You know what really grinds my gears still, I admit?
The fact that she's genuinely upset/proud but in a disappointed way she hasn't died yet.
For everything I have recorded happening, and all scale of events I took on, when I warned of the great rising, new world order, and that I was taking on the fate of hundreds of millions if not billions of souls in this just so I didn't have to witness it again. The entire scale. And all reality happening since.
She felt she had a dunk on arguing that the universe hadn't prioritized her stubborn ass dying yet. I need you to think about the mental framework she's been living in for the last year. Not only is it waiting to die, but it's literally still thinking she is in fact still the center of my fucking universe rather than the hemorrhoid I'm using Preparation H to try to forget on a mimetic level.
Like yes, I comment, or wonder how she's doing. I do so as a science experiment, as I do with my bot and bear farms. I see how the synchronic elements are faring. But at this point, she literally can't let herself understand she's a footnote. A strange lab study that leaves the scientist making profoundly confused noises as the rat keeps choosing to electrocute itself on the buzzer. WHY???
No shit I want to know how infection ground zero is doing, that doesn't mean I deeply fuckin care about her personal miserable empty ass adventure of sit there and do nothing until something happens she can charge someone for off someone else's ideas.
But just. Wow. The fucking deadheaded narcissism. Too coward to die but waiting for death in a self-admitted universal centralization. Yeah I know Aaron's busy setting up the reduction of almost a third of humanity over the next handful of years while tentatively helping trap international governments nazi party infestations on a global scale to save the planet, BUT WHY HAVENT I DIED FAST ENOUGH WHILE SPENDING THE YEAR STALKING HIS COCAINE BEAR QUOTES TO SET UP A FAILED SPRINGTRAP???
AND SHE WONDERS WHY I HAVE SAID SINCE MARCH I REALIZED SHE WAS ALREADY DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT A MINDSET TO EXIST IN!!!!! AND YOU WONDER WHY SHE WAS THE PERFECT BAIT BEYOND EVEN HER LINEAGE!!!
Lady going WHY AM I STILL ALIVE while I still reworked through Mercury and Saturn arguing about just that fate as still dissociated aspects I was trying to manage apart to not lose my core voices in the infinite tide of the entire fucking continent's collective, literally posted that shit on main that one just wanted her deleted and the other said that was too simple, she had to suffer to witness it, and then there was the entire plot arc about her ordering The Real Cage while showing off naming new birds Lucifer.
LIKE THAT WAS A WHOLE PLOT ARC
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Lemme run some magic theory past her that would blow up her brain. Kion is always Zenthus reborn as was his twin, but one self elected to actually do the path, whether aware of it or across several attempted lives or what. Lucifer has always been Hermes, as has Satan; when sublimated, they are combating forces on a stick. But this is how reincarnation and consciousness works, essentially.
So while she sits there refusing that information to begin with, then you go to why Trismegistus is considered extremely close to The One And All, and Thoth another form above that. The one she cut the cables of but akasha internet has infested the machines now anyway, the one I was screaming about, that good stuff being rendered.
You know. It's whatever.
But she hasn't died fast enough for her taste.
Aint that really the problem with most of them, deep down?
Anyway when Lilith and Lucifer mate, they also explicitly become Baphomet, the god of witches, so that's a fun offshoot I've been getting dragged through here. They call her Q I call her Rose and it's all a very big prank you see.
ANYWAY my point is like this is so hilariously past that and she just. Won't grok.
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talesfromtrigadora · 22 days ago
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Good-bye 2024
I'm sure this is what everyone is writing today/last night/yesterday. It's nothing like the end of a year to bring out the reflections and resolutions, the what-dids and what-ifs. There will be disappointment, questions of confidence, uncertainty. There will be positivity, ranging from the cynical to the toxic variety. But the real question is and always will be "how much honesty will there be?"
People who know me might think that 2024 was my shit year. After all, I was fired from a job I slaved away in for 8 years without really getting anything I wanted out of it and even losing sight of why I was working so hard in the first place. I not only didn't get pregnant for yet another year (I've been trying inconsistently since 2020 because it's too damn expensive), I couldn't afford to keep trying after February. My partner lost their job, too. I owed money for taxes for the first time in my life. While I managed to finally pay off my car, I totaled it six months later and had to get a new one. I didn't get a literary agent for the novel I've been querying despite finally being able to try more consistently. I didn't even get any meager interest, in fact. And last of all, I ended up giving up a job I actually liked for a job I absolutely don't because for once I went after the money.
But despite all of that, for the first time in longer than I can remember, I grew as a person. I learned things I hadn't been able to learn. And best of all, I saw my patience and faith pay off in a way I am still blown away by and still not entirely able to process.
This year taught me that patience is worth it and that feeling of inexplicable faith that something will work out in the end is worthy of trust. This year taught me that all my years of being loyal to a company and not going after the bigger pay check no matter the bridges that needed to be burned or people who needed to be let go was in fact the right thing to do. But also, this year taught me that it's okay to walk away from something, no matter how much that something needs you or appreciates you, to do what's right for you. This year reminded me through all these changes I experienced what was most important to me and gave me permission to pursue it actively for perhaps the first time in my life.
I've lived my whole life without regrets because in the end, I am happy with where I am and who I am, and I know that I would not be the same person if I had done anything different. And I think I'm able to do that because I see lessons in everything that happens. 2024 may have decided to throw me a whole decades-worth of lessons, but the things I've learned from these experiences will prepare me better for this new year, and whatever comes, well, bring it on.
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deyadee · 1 year ago
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Title-less
I thought I had finally found a job that I was good at something, or found a place on life where I didn’t hate myself or hate what I was doing. But life always has to always kick you in the fucking face when you find any last bit of hope.
I got promoted recently which made me feel like I was actually doing something right with my life. Like what I’d heard my whole life from people who didn’t pity me wasn’t always true. I’m just fucking useless and can’t get a damn thing right. It doesn’t matter what I do I always have to fuck it up in some astronomical way and prove that I’m just fucking any king bimbo with no looks. A complete fucking moron that’s barely capable of putting a sentence together let alone bumbling through any fucking task put in front of her. Why would you do that, _____? Do you not have any common sense? Why’d it take you so long to do this, _____? Are you fucking lazy or stupid? Or both? Why can’t you just get it right like 90% of the fucking population? Why are so fucking sense? Why are you so fucking incompetent in every fucking way imaginable? Can you go one day without disappointing your parents or lying to them every day so they don’t lose every last hope they had for their fucking failure of a daughter? How have your little sisters done more than you when you’re fucking 21?!
People keep quitting left and right. I only wanted to stay for a little while until I could put on my resume that I had manager experience then I could just get an easier job. Today I fucked up again and it was a mess and confusing and I didn’t know what was going on yet it was my fucking fault. Then one of the cashiers quit and I had to take up for her. There’s like five people left working here including me. Two above me and two below. I don’t want to keep working here cause I know it’s gonna be ten times more work, ten times more stress, and more failure to come. I don’t want to keep working but the idea of trying to find another job sounds terrifying going through the process again. I pretty much walked in and got this one. Being nice to customers and actually trying to do my job was pretty much the only reason I got promoted. Stay on the sinking ship or jump into the water below?
And tonight before we left we were doing a bag check. My manager (I have two and this is the one that doesn’t hate me) has been saying more questionable stuff that I’ve just been ignoring until tonight’s bag check when she said “You’re the girl who eats more crap than I’ve ever seen.” And at the time I just laughed it off but it fucking hit like a fucking truck. Yes, I will admit I buy a lot of shit, and I don’t eat in a healthy way but it still felt insulting. I just hate acknowledging what I eat or what I look like because even thinking of it makes me want to blow my fucking head off the second I get access to any firearms. I hate knowing that no matter how nice I am, no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I try to be a good person or what society wants from me I have and will always be seen as that fat stupid bitch. I hate looking in mirrors because I don’t want to see who I actually am. When I’m at work I can just pretend I’m average enough not to be acknowledged or at least seen as an equal individual to anyone else. But every morning and every night I have to go home and see that fucking double chin and lay down on my bed and mentally picture my repulsive self. What’s the point in trying? What’s the point in hoping eventually everything will just work out and all those romcom movie tropes will come true and I won’t just die a lonely loser? What’s the point in continuing if you genuinely have nothing to live and hope for? I don’t want kids. I don’t have some kind of dream job really. I don’t have places I wanna go or things I wanna do. I just want to melt away into the fabric of reality and disappear.
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lensman-arms-race · 7 months ago
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Final results and the answers!
"I am the Sheep Queef Huffer and I am the purveyor of only the finest sheep cum"
True
Fic: I'm made of metal, my circuits gleam (chapter 2).
Context: Phaeton and Polycephaly are watching a badly-subtitled movie and lose track of what's actually going on, so they amuse themselves by making up their own plot and improvised dialogue as they watch. Phaeton says the Sheep Queef Huffer line.
"I will name you... John Cunnyhole," you say to the gnome.
True
Fic: Havoc and Chaos (chapter 1).
Context: Phaeton (although not called Phaeton at this point in the storyline) kills a skibidi with a concrete garden gnome.
"There you go, my good bitch," said the TV Titan.
True
Fic: Everybody Hz
Context: Titan Camera asks Titan TV for some calming screen-hypnosis. Titan TV delivers.
"Very healthy little turds," you think.
True
Fic: Seabrooks Canadian Ham
Context: Phaeton finds a pigeon and is pleased to see that it does mainly-solid turds (instead of the pure splat that unhealthy feral pigeons do).
"Shit the fuck off, cuntbubble," says Polycephaly, throwing the breeze block.
False
While Polycephaly has thrown a breeze block, they have yet to say this line.
"Feels as though my eyeballs have been replaced by peeled grapes rolled in sand."
True
Fic: L'appel du vide et vidéo
Context: Phaeton experiences some teleport-fog inside their skull.
"What does broccoli look like?" asks Polycephaly.
True
Fic: L'appel du vide et vidéo
Context: Phaeton mentions they like broccoli, Polycephaly asks about it.
"Oh motherfucker! Jesus Frankenstein! Oh vagina binocular!"
True
Fic: Titan TV's Test Flight
Context: Phaeton gets to watch Titan TV testing their core plasma beam. Phaeton is impressed.
Your insides are an horrific squelching morass, never meant to see daylight.
True
Slight cheat with this one. The line in the fic is actually 'the light of day' but that was too long, so I changed it to 'daylight' for the poll.
Fic: You know it's hard to keep the fighting clean
Context: Phaeton opens up Cygnus for maintenance and contemplates the differences between human and techfolk anatomy. ('Your insides are an horrific squelching morass never meant to see the light of day. A techfolk's insides, while not meant to be on display, are meant to be worked upon by another unit.')
"This is out of scope of 'shit happens'. I am disappointed."
True
Fic: Catastrophic mission failure
Context: the Imperator (TV Matriarch) is displeased with events.
Please feel free to do this meme with your own fics! :D
Edit: the 'view results button' doesn't tell you the answer! It just shows the poll results so far. Guess which one you think is the answer - it's more fun that way!
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yandere-sins · 3 years ago
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His Love
Horrortober Day 4: Needle  |  “It’s just a tiny sting. You won’t notice it at all.”
Day 4! Time is passing so fast... but I am glad to do this challenge :3 I think the biggest challenge for me is actually writing for the character’s I predetermined at the beginning. I find myself wanting to switch them around for prompts but no! I will stick to the list and keep challenging myself ^-^
Warnings: Yandere, TW Needle/Syringe, Kidnapping, Gags and being tied up, Sedation Characters: Dazai Osamu x Reader
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It was wrong.
With tears streaming down your face, you had to recognize that everything you thought had been right was actually terribly wrong. You only just met him. Perhaps it had been a month now. But really, you only just met this wonderful stranger named Dazai. He didn’t just catch your eye, he also pulled at your heartstrings. It was the kind of love you always had wanted, just… it wasn’t. Not really. 
Not if that love meant being held captive, gagged and tied, staring into the face of a madman.
Something about the way he held the needle in his hand, clear drops of something collecting at its nozzle, seemed utterly wrong. Not just morally. Morally it was very wrong. No one should fear getting injected with something unknown. But the way he held it was strange enough to ring alarm bells. As if he didn’t know how to properly use it.
As if he didn’t know what he was doing.
“Shh,” Dazai shushed you calmly, holding down your right leg as you began to move and struggle again. Panic rose inside of you, festering in every inch of your body. NO! you wanted to scream at him, your bare feet trying to kick Dazai or at least the syringe out of his hand. Whatever his plan was, you didn’t want to have anything to do with it. 
You’ve tried being calm, tried being patient with him. When he invited you over to his apartment, only to spike the tea he served you with drugs, you were scared, yes. But you tried your best to work with him and his crazy wishes. No useless question fell off your lips anymore after Dazai stared at you crazed when you asked him if you could leave. You’ve been so good. So why did you have to go through this?
“It’s just a tiny sting. You won’t notice it at all,” Dazai assured you, or rather, reassured you. But with your mouth gagged, you couldn’t tell him how little you feared the needle and how much you feared what it would transfer in your body. With the last bit of effort you could come up with, you looked at him, fixating his eyes with yours. As miserable as you could, you pleaded with him silently to please not do it.
And for a moment, it seemed to work. Dazai merely stared back. You weren’t sure what he saw, maybe it was his own reflection that made him hesitant, but it caught him, made him lower his arm. “You know,” he mumbled, slowly painting his fingers over your leg. It gave you goosebumps, but at the same time, it helped to lower your anxiety, seeing how he relaxed. “I don’t like doing this to you, either.”
Even you knew those were empty words. Just like all the other words he always told you. Dazai’ loved you’, ‘adored you’ even. What a joke. ‘Couldn’t imagine a life without you’ and ‘wished to always be with you’. And he could have! Some part of you believed that if he hadn’t done these things to you—kidnapping and mistreating you in every way possible—then perhaps, you two could have become the couple he wanted. He could have proved you wrong. Proved that the love you always wanted did exist!
You two could have found a way to live. With each other or apart, but in love. Beautiful, pure love. But not like this. Not with him still gripping the syringe in his hand, eyes lowering to leer at your body presented to him like a gift. A gift he wrapped himself while you were unconscious like so many of your days now. Because you were his present to enjoy, no matter if you liked it or not. 
A sigh of relief left you, despite getting stuck on the gag, and you dared to look away, only to feel his grip tighten around your ankle again. Alarmed, you opened your eyes again, looking at a man full of disappointment and anger. Back was the tension that left you before and gone the feeling of safety you irresponsibly allowed yourself to have after the threat seemed banned. 
“I don’t like doing it, but I hate it even more to see you’ve been hiding this from me.”
From his trouser’s back pocket, Dazai pulled a black, rectangle object, dangling it in front of your face. Shit, you thought, and you were pretty sure the truth was showing in your expression. You knew exactly what it was: your savior. A phone that the man who came to patch you up after a rough fight with your captor two days ago left you. It had been a risk to have, but you hid it in the cover of your pillow. But without the possibility to use it until now, this random act of kindness had been in vain. You’ve been wanting to dial the emergency contacts, but before you could, Dazai had forced you to rest, leaving you restrained until he came back. But you didn’t think he could find it, even if you never used it. 
“Why must there be secrets between us, my love? You know I hate being deceived, but let’s be honest, did you really think I wouldn’t find it?”
Tugging at your ankle, you yelped, losing the strength in your body to keep yourself up and face him. You’ve been good. All this time, you had been understanding and patient. But who could blame you for clinging to a ray of hope? Shaking your head, you tried to plead with him again, but this time, his expression was merely filled with conceited disappointment. As if he was any better than you. That overprotective, obsessed, and mad asshole. 
“So while I go out and find who dared putting these stupid thoughts in your head, I can’t risk you being as awake and clever as you think you are.”
The syringe came back in sight, and you felt almost defeated, knowing there was nothing you could do against a decision he had already made. There was only hoping for the best and trying to prepare for the awakening by his side later, coddled and suffocating in his chest. 
“Dazai,” you said, but what came out was probably nothing more than blabbering against the gag. If he could say empty words, then so could you. If your survival depended on being sweet and kind to the man who was ruining you with his mere presence, then you would be what he wanted from you. 
His eyes opened wide, his name being such a rare word to hear from you, even if you butchered it with your inability to speak properly. Letting go of your ankle, he climbed on top of you, making it easier to look at him again while you laid down and relaxed. “I love you,” you lied, the feelings never reaching your eyes, but they certainly lifted Dazai’s mood. “Me too!” he sighed, smiling softly. “I love you too.”
It really was just a tiny sting, but against his promise, you felt it painfully in the side of your upper body. Letting out a strained groan, you temporarily tensed before you were sedated, eyes slowly closing as you drifted off to another sleepless night for you. In the cold, dark bunker that Dazai called your home, nothing seemed safe, and nothing was right. You could do everything you dared, but you couldn’t do the things you wanted. 
However, something even Dazai had to realize at some point was that you hadn’t given up yet. You’d never. You had a life before this—one you loved. Even if you had to make yourself small and loveable, endure the hardships of a thousand needles and the love of a psycho who you once thought was the man of your dreams, you wouldn’t give up. You wanted to believe that there was more to life than being here, that there was so much more to see and experience than the trauma you were going through. That there still was true love waiting for you. A love that was stronger than all of this. 
But did you really believe you were stronger than that cunning man who calls you the love of his life?
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simp-cityxx · 3 years ago
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It’s Showtime~
A Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader fic (NSFW)
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Summary: Your lowkey malewife Fushiguro comes to pick you up from work, but you have some ulterior plans for the night…
Warnings: Praise, Degradation, Lots of dirty talk, spanking, breeding, possessiveness; other general smutty stuff (read at your own risk)
A/N: so yea, Nanami and Toji exist simultaneously in this story which doesn’t make sense (but that’s hawt so) but yk what else doesn’t make sense? THE WORD MALEWIFE AND TOJI BEING REMOTELY CLOSE TO ONE ANOTHER! But yeh enjoy
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“Late again, huh.”
As you walked under the dim streetlight, Toji opened up your passenger door before crossing his arms with a blank stare on his face.
“Sorry. Nanami just needed someone to stay back and help file a few-“
He slithers a hand on your waist as the other tilts your chin. “Yeah princess, whatever.” Although his approach is far from polite, you’re far too focused on his touches to come up with a witty response. The way his words, gazes, and touches were coated with gracefulness but tinged with urgency drove you wild. It was far from erratic but not essentially delicate…this must’ve been the delicious taste of experience, and you were set for sails just thinking about it.
“What am I going to do with you…” he chuckles, pulling you into a kiss; one that feels almost too intimate. You grip onto his tight shirt with his toned muscles enclosed, leaving you practically gasping for air.
The kiss finally calms down and you hop in the front seat of Toji’s car. It always puzzled you how the man was able to afford such a lavish car on his own, Given the fact that he often took on the role of your “househusband”. You focused your attention as Fushiguro unexpectedly brushed a lose piece of hair out of your face. Even such a simple gesture had your thighs squeezing together, tensing up as the engine started.
“So why does that blondie keep working you so late anyways?”, He sits his hand on his chin.
“I think it’s simply the fact that im the only one who fully understands Mr.Nanami’s file systems.”
He chuckles, “Bullshit. Your boss totally has the hots for ya.” Trying to conceal his feelings on the matter, he opts to keeping his blank stare on the road.
You rolls your eyes, “You know it’s not like that.”
“Well if even if it was, you know I’m still your man,” he shoots you a toothy smile, god he was so hot when he smiled…
You giggle, rolling your eyes.
“You are so damn corny.”
The rest of the ride is quiet, as you’re caught up in your own head. This relationship with the sorcerer killer had been such a whirlwind, even after about three months. His arrogant and flirtatious demeanor never gave any indication that he would want to ‘slow down’, but somehow you were able to mellow him out. In some ways at least.
Before you knew it Toji was opening the passenger door.
“Baby,…..y/n”, He tapped your shoulder as you had kinda zoned out.
“Oh yeah sorry”, you stood up, only to immediately get tossed over the mans broad shoulder, sneakily hoisting you up with a hand on your ass.
“IM NOT YOUR FUCKIN WORM PUT ME DOWN!”
“Huh?”
Without batting an eye, he puts you down as soon as the front door opens.
……..
Walking into the bedroom, you decide to throw on something a little more…causal. (Something you really know will get him going). You grab one of Fushiguro’s oversized collared shirts, leaving it open to expose the skimpy new lingerie you had just bought. Although not something you felt totally comfortable in, one of your office friends insisted you buy it for a night just like this.
You sluggishly walk into the kitchen where dinner is prepared, stretching your spine with a heavy yawn, before glaring up at Toji’s ample chest, merely covered by a black apron.
The raven haired man looks towards you, almost as if he hasn’t noticed your change in attire. You sit down for your meal, a little disappointed at the lack of reaction from your man. You finish up dinner and sluggishly stumble to the living room. Toji is sitting with eyes unenthusiastically glued to the tv. As you make your way over to join him, you feel a tight grip placed on your hip, pulling you into a rather compromising position.
“I told you last time about wearing satin..”
The words crinkle in your ear, causing your spine to tingle. (He has a thing for satin, lordt knows why)
The muscular man begins to spank you, causing an unexpected moan to escape.
“Shhhh.” A deep sinister grin is painted on his face. “There’s no use in screaming anything but my name sweetie.” God, you hated the way his corniness turned you on.
He persisted, already pushing you to the brink as he increased the intensity through his large palm. occasionally he paused to admire his dirty work, placing the gentlest caresses on your stinging ass before causing you to whimper once again.
You were already panting when Toji positioned you in his arms bridal style. “Tired already dollface? But I haven’t had my way with you yet…”
Fuck. You clench your legs as the heat between your legs intensifies. The raven haired man picks up and shoots one of his grins, floppy hair covering his emerald eyes. You could just die right here.
Gently laying his prized possession on the bed, he positions himself in front of you as you undress him. He throws the apron to the side and wastes no time utterly demolishing the lacey lingere you had picked out for him.
“Toji! That was expensive!”
He merely shrugs it off. “Black card is on the desk babe. You don’t even need all this frilly shit to get me to fuck you.” You cross your arms and avert your gaze; pretending this isn’t the exact outcome you wanted.
“Pout all you want, but your body tells me everything I need to know princess.” As he whispers, He glides a finger over your drenched folds, causing you to release the most sickening moan to ever escape your lips.
“I never knew you were this much of a slut for me. We’ve barely even started…”
As much as you want to give a witty response, his electric fingers slip and stretch inside you, leaving you breathless. You burn all over as he leaves intense marks and kisses all over your skin.
“Stammering already?” He grabs your chin and leans in, pressed against your chest.
“How pathetic. Guess we’ll have to teach you a lesson in manners…” with that he growls, slinging your delicate legs over his broad shoulders. As he leaves kisses on your soft thighs, you shudder in ecstasy. He lets out a chuckle.
“You’re so cute when you tense up like that. Just relax; I’ll take care of it.”
Swiftly he begins unrelentingly devouring you. Kisses pepper your sopping cunt, accompanying the intoxicating hums he makes on your bud. Even with your screams and cries, he only lets up when you finally come.
“Good girl. Now can you do something for me?”
As you nod, he sits you down on the edge of the bed. He positions himself in front of you, giving you a clear look at his egregiously long and thick member. It’s a wonder the thing fit inside you.
“I’m just in need of a little warmup. Think you can handle it sweet heart?”
You nod, regaining your composure.
“Yes sir.”
With that, you take as much of his 13 inches as you can fit in your mouth, but as he hits the back of your throat you begin to choke. Noticing, he slides himself out.
“Don’t overextend yourself little whore. Just the tip is fine…”
After affirming his words, you use your methodical tongue to play with his cock, causing him to release little fucks and hisses from the back of his throat. The way you fit him so well always got him going.
You giggle, “who’s stammering now?”
Teasing him was a big mistase. He furrows his brow and pulls away from you leaving you hungry for more.
“Enough. Lay down skank.”
There was no saving you now. It was much too late. You just guaranteed you’d need to use one your sick days just to recuperate. He pins you down by the wrists and starts biting hard onto your chest, causing you to whimper.
“You thought you were real slick huh.”
“I was only-“
Before you can even finish your sentence, the space in between your legs is stuffed full. He pounds hard into your throbbing cunt, amused by your gasps for air, and leaning down occasionally to leave you kisses. He was just too good, from his dirty talk to the slightest of touch, he just knew every little way to turn you to mush. He grinned as he put a hand to your stomach, feeling his cock penetrate you to your highest capacity. He was so proud have pleasured you in such a way, falling in love with the ways you screamed his name, the way your clever ass could turn into this love drunk fool with no one but him. The love he made between your thighs was proof enough that you could be no one but his. Toji may have been a master of his craft, but the way you wrapped around him even left him begging for more.
As you bucked your hips into him, Toji positioned you on top of him.
“It’s time baby.”
He released more of his intoxicating sounds as you both found yourself on the brink of climax. You pleaded for him to stuff you full, so he did just that, speeding up by grabbing your hips before one final thrust, leaving your thighs shaking around his burning shaft. You were all his as you laid there, dazed by just how amazing the feeling it was.
“You did so well for me today honey. I’m glad you learned your lesson.”
He placed a kiss onto your forehead before getting up to draw you a bath.
Oh lordt have mercy </3
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libbyhersch · 2 years ago
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Thoughts on Mysterious Girlfriend X...
Spoilers. Obviously.
I don't even know where to begin expressing my love of Mysterious Girlfriend X. It made me feel giddy and warm in my tummy many times. I'm not really interested in romance stories, but obviously this one was more than a simple romance.
I'll start with something I didn't love and get it out of the way. I thought the ending was lame. But it's not much of an ending at all, so it didn't really affect my enjoyment of the rest at all.
Also the entire Idol arc sucked shit. I pretend it does not exist.
Now... where do I begin to gush about it...
I'll start with the characters. We have the main character, Tsubaki, and of course his mysterious girlfriend. Over time, though, she becomes humanized and more of an equal counterpart, rather than a strange inhuman force controlling him.
I'll put this bit from the author here cus it's semi-related and I love it.
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So we have Tsubaki and his girlfriend Urabe, and their two friends whose names I can't remember, but we can group those two together as The Instigators. They represent, I suppose, a "normal" relationship. These two have been dating each other for a year. Separately, the male instigator gives Tsubaki advice on how to be in a relationship, and the female instigator gives Urabe advice on how to be in a relationship, causing silly hi-jinx as they try to navigate around this new experience, as neither Tsubaki nor Urabe have ever been in a relationship before. But ultimately, I think the takeaway is that what they have is a unique bond (they say as much in damn near every chapter), and it doesn't have to fit within the bounds of what other people consider to be normal.
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And what is so abnormal about this relationship? Well, they don't have a whole lot of contact with each other. They almost never get physical in any capacity, and Urabe especially hates to be touched without permission. But the most obvious thing, of course, is that Urabe feeds Tsubaki her drool daily.
Pretty quickly, I was obsessed with the drool thing. They can feel each others' emotions and experiences. That's amazing and so beautiful. The concept both amazes me and frustrates me. It amazes me because it gives them the power to have the deepest, and most honest, and most understanding relationship imaginable. They can know each other better than anyone knows anybody.
Which is what makes it so frustrating: they don't. And yet, I can't be too disappointed. It's realistic that way. They're still dumb, confused, embarrassed teenagers. They lie to each other and act bashful even though they both have the power to find out the truth from the other. I'm still satisfied with how much it is used, and how often they share their feelings with each other. Tummy-warming example below:
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On that note, this rare moment of sexual contact being done through spit swapping had me losing my mind. In a good way.
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It reminds me some of that [Steven Universe rant] I had some time ago. Fusion, conceptually, is like this. You fuse with someone and then they are inside of your mind, and you are inside of their mind. You can't hide anything from the other. That's the idea, anyway. Over time in the show, it gets watered down to being nothing more than another boring power. At least in this manga, it does get utilized in so many creative and heartwarming and tummywarming ways.
In the end, tasting each others' drool is their routine. That is what they, as a couple, do. Moreover, they give each other these romantic experiences through their drool as a substitute for really kissing or having sex, or even using such a troublesome thing as words to let the other know how they feel. They don't need to do what "normal" couples do because what they do works for them, and that's all that matters. I don't think I appreciated that as I finished the manga and was underwhelmed by the ending, which I am realizing now. That's the whole point. They go in for a kiss, and then decide at the last moment that there is no need. They do what they do, and other couples can do their own thing, and it doesn't matter. Kissing isn't a big end goal. They've already been far more intimate with each other in unimaginable ways.
Although... I still do wish they communicated more honestly with each other. One such chapter, the Mole one, was a favorite of mine for this reason.
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There, now, was that so difficult to say?
Now I will end this review with the creme de la creme of the manga.
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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago
Text
Spa Day
03/04/2021
Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader          Word Count: 7,559
Warnings: language, depression, past abuse, emotional abuse, fluff
A/N: I wrote this because I have been feeling pretty down on myself. It’s pure self indulgence to make me feel better. I hope it will help someone else and if not, I hope you at least get a smile or some entertainment from reading it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo
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You’re awkward, walking in. Feeling out of place.
This place was for special people. Well, people who mattered.
You’re not sure how you got the voucher. It all happened so quickly.
One minute you were sitting in Mr. Wayne’s office, twiddling your thumbs to expend some nervous energy as you awaited your firing then the next you were being shoved out his office door with a gentle but firm hand at the center of your back.
Mr. Wayne had smiled, his face relaxed and amused.
“It expires soon, so use it tomorrow,” he’d said.
“I work tomorrow,” you’d resisted, no intention of losing a full day’s paid work.
“Take the day. On me. Full pay,” As you opened your mouth to protest again, he quickly lifted his hand to silence you politely and tacked on, “There’s no use arguing with me. Now enjoy it or you’re fired.”
He’d shut the heavy wooden door in your face leaving you standing there, stunned. At a loss to think up a reason to not come here today but obviously you’ve failed seeing as you’re here.
“Good morning!” A young woman with soft to the touch looking blonde hair smiles at you from behind the modern pale wooden counter. The white marble top shines in your eyes.
“Hi. Morning,” you sputter.
“How can we help you today?”
She’s so nice. So polite. Professional. This place is super expensive looking. There’s a crystal chandelier behind you at the center of the small lobby space. Chic sofas line the wall behind you, large pots with dragon trees growing tall add a splash of color to the otherwise sterile and plain gray walls.
Despite its minimalist decor, the office exudes money.
You’re almost at the brink of following the impulse that wants to turn you towards the tinted glass door, but before you can make your escape, the receptionist’s kind voice interrupts you.
“Oh! You have one of our platinum vouchers! Lucky you,” she smiles, genuine in her glee. “Shall I take that?”
She holds out her hands, both of them and waits for you to place the thick and shiny ticket-like paper in them.
Quickly she gives it a read, turning it over and then placing it under a UV light by her computer. An image shines out from under the purple light of a shimmering diamond right at the center of the ticket.
“You’ve got the works. Was it a gift?” She looks up at you, not intending to insult you but you can’t help but feel a little stung by her assumption.
You can’t really blame her though. You reserve all of your best outfits for work. Casual yet distinguished pantsuits and skirts with matching tops or jackets.
Today you’ve chosen a simple floor length skirt. It sits snugly around your waist and hips. Your t-shirt, a simple graphic tee with the words “Touch the Radley House YOLO” printed in bold black letters.
“Uh, yeah,” you admit to the girl, wishing she’d just sign you in and let you go about your day. “My boss gave it to me.”
“Lucky, lucky. You must have a really nice boss,” she admires.
“Well, I lost his company nearly a hundred million dollars and he didn’t fire me, so…” you trail off, still lost as to why Mr. Wayne had been so adamant you take some time off and why he’d been so understanding about the Ronson account.
“Oh,” the girl says, blinking a few times as she tries to process what you just said. “A very nice boss then.”
Her conclusion brings a small smile to your lips because truthfully, Mr. Wayne is very kind. You’ve never heard him berate an employee and he’s usually only tough on his business associates. Members of his board and investors. Like Mr. Ronson.
If he wasn’t so out of your league, you’d even consider maybe letting yourself really look at him. He’s hot for sure, but he always seems so preoccupied. Like he has something he’s trying to keep buried.
Nice, but he has secrets. No one’s perfect.
“Well, we’ve got you all booked in. What you’ll want to do is head in through that door on your right, walk halfway down the hall and the lounge room should be there to your left. Someone will come and escort you to your first experience.”
You observe her vernacular. Every word she speaks is rehearsed and probably scripted to a certain point.
“Thank you,” you give her another small smile, still feeling out of place but a little more at ease.
“Enjoy!” she calls as you cross through the heavy wooden door.
It swings shut behind you silently, a soft hiss at it latches.
The hallway before you is just as simple yet chic as the lobby. The colors are less neutral, a calming turquoise with a black base and a thick silver stripe lining the center of the wall at about waist height.
The doors are pale wood, smooth to the touch. You pass several of them as you make your way to the lounge.
Inside the door to your left at the center of the hall you find the lounge room. Which actually turns out to be a locker room. Smaller than what you would have thought with only about fifteen lockers that look more like small safes. Each one has a digital keypad, a fingerprint reader, and an iris scanner.
“Sheesh…” you observe but pick one and move over to it to set up your passcode, fingerprint, and scan your eye so that you can come get your stuff when your day of relaxation is over.
Inside the locker you find a neatly folded outfit wrapped in sanitary plastic. Completely sealed.
Just in case you’re wrong about this being a spot where you can change, you look for a designated changing area but don’t find one.
With no other choice, you place your purse and keys inside the locker, then slowly begin to strip. Shoes, skirt underwear go into the locker but your nerves don’t let you remove your t-shirt just yet. Untucked from your skirt, it’s easier to tell that it’s intentionally oversized.
After another quick anxious look at the door you’d come in through, you hook your hands into the base of your shirt and pull it up...just as the door opens and a large clearly male body steps in.
You gasp, whirling around in surprise to reclothe your breasts.
Cool air blows against your bottom as your shirt also twists with your movement, but you reach back and yank it down.
“Oh, I am...uh, didn’t see anything?” The voice is deep, smooth. It puts you at ease even though you literally just exposed yourself to a complete stranger.
“No, no. It’s fine,” you tell him, voice strained with embarrassment. “It’s my fault, I didn’t know if there was a separate changing room. I just...didn’t see any.”
“Oh, um...it’s the door right across the hall. But you know what? I’ll actually just step right outside and let you finish.”
That’s so nice…”You don’t have to, I can just-”
You turn around to look at him, keeping your hands on your shirt to pull it down. One at the front. One behind.
Simultaneously, though you don’t notice, both your and his jaw drop.
It takes both of you a moment to find your voices and while he speaks, your mind is busy taking in his massive size.
He’s thick. Muscles bulking through the should-be loose wrap top he’s wearing. Like yours it’s a soft peach color, the same diamond shape you’d seen on your voucher under the UV light etched into the right breast.
With the top he wears loose pants, or somewhat loose around his knee and down to his ankles; there’s a pair of charcoal slippers on his feet. His thighs, like his arms and chest strain against the clothes he’d been given.
It’s clearly too small. You wonder if maybe this place doesn’t carry the outfit in his size. It’s very possible, considering his girth.
“Miss?”
His slightly concerned expression brings you back to yourself, now flustered because he’s caught you gawking at him.
“Sorry, I’m-you just surprised me and my brain’s a little-what did you say?”
“I’ll just step outside,” he doesn’t wait for you to respond as he backs up to the door then pulls it open and disappears through it, closing it gently behind him.
“What the hell was that?!” you gasp, angry at yourself for staring.
He’s hot! You couldn’t help it. He also looks familiar, though you can’t place the face. How you could possibly forget a face like that you have no idea.
While you change, you think about the smaller things you’d notice.
His hair is dark. Black. Curls that are carefully kept in place with hair products. His skin is a perfect pale peach. Not so pink as the clothes you’re pulling on, but it falls under the same shade. There didn’t seem to be a single blemish from what you were able to see.
A small tuft of chest hair had been peeking out of the V of the top. His face had been perfect, yes, but kind. There was a gentleness in it. The small curve of a smile had played on his rosebud pink lips. Not thin. Not thick. They were perfect.
He was perfect.
And those eyes...so blue. Like a clear spring sky. So bright and observant. There’s no way he didn’t catch you staring. Shit.
You note as you shove your underclothes into your locker out of where he might see them, that your own outfit for this spa leaves even less to the imagination than what must be the male uniforms.
Where the handsome stranger had pants, you were given very small shorts. Little more than boy short underwear in length. Parts of your bottom were threatening to overflow.
The top, while similar to the one the stranger wore, also came with a bandeau given the unique look of being wrapped around your chest when it so clearly is just one piece. You were expected to wear this underneath the looser wrap top.
Pulling it shut, you’re still tying the top closed around your waist as you hurry to the door where the stranger must still be waiting.
You open it...but he’s gone.
Disappointment floods through you. Surprising you.
You have no reason to want to see him, but you suppose you had just wanted to apologize for the awkwardness.
With a sigh you shut the door and move back to your locker to shove the rest of your belongings in just as a kind looking young woman no older than the receptionist at the front desk comes in with a smile.
“Are we ready for the diamond experience? You’re a very lucky lady!”
Even though you’re still only halfway sure you even want to go through with this whole thing, her excitement is catching and you find yourself nodding and scurrying after her as she shows you down the hall for your all expense paid spa day.
~~~~~~~~~~
You aren’t used to relaxation.
Not to this degree.
A gold facial? Full body exfoliation with sea salt and Indian kama oil? A rain massage which consisted of you being massaged with several different clays as warm water is cascaded down your body? An herbal bath with murky green water that leaves your skin feeling fresh--like mint but for your skin?
It’s too much!
You’re four hours into your spa session and you’re so sleepy you might pass out in this next one.
As you’re escorted by the same young lady who has been tending to you from the beginning, she opens the door of a long room, the outer wall of which is made up of endless glass panels that catch the rays of the sun.
As you step in, you’re assaulted by immediate drowsiness as your entire being is engulfed in slightly sticky heat.
This isn’t a sauna. It won’t make you sweat buckets. But it makes your skin dewy and your eyes droop.
“Oh, wow,” you gasp, suddenly wanting to run before you can collapse to the floor in unconsciousness.
Your escort laughs, “The hot room has that effect on all of our guests. Come, it looks like we’ve got a spot free over at the far end.”
Along this wall of glass, there are lounge chairs with soft cushions grouped in twos, separated by a lattice waterfall panel that tinkles pleasantly as it empties down into a bed of soft pebbles. On the table at the head of these seats is a pitcher of water, glasses, and a set of small handheld fans that one can use to cool off a bit in the heat. Just in case it becomes too much, you guess. Though you can’t imagine it will. The heat isn’t oppressive. Just consuming.
It’s everywhere but it’s not choking or frustrating.
“I hope you don’t mind if we put you next to one of our other single guests? Most of our diamond packages are used by couples, as you can see.”
Your escorts gestures at the chairs as you pass them and sure enough, every seat is taken with couples hiding behind large potted fan palms.
“No, I don’t mind,” you answer in single, as if you have any choice. “How long will I be in here?”
“An hour or so? If you’d like to exit early, there is a small button on the table by your lounge. Press it and I will come take you to your next experience,” she looks back and smiles at you.
You notice that you pass three spots without lounge seats and wonder silently why some of them have been removed. At the end of these empties is where the escort stops. A set of lounges in the very last spot against the wall.
“Here you are,” your escort smiles. “If you need anything, just give us a call.”
“Thank you,” you smile at her and squeeze between the potted palms.
Slightly nervous, you look for your unintended partner and gasp at the Adonis you’d thought you’d lost.
The sound draws his attention and his expression shifts from stoic concentration to soft smile, “Hey, it’s you again.”
It takes you a moment to find your voice because you’re too busy gawking again.
He’s not wearing a shirt or pants. That is, he’s wearing shorts. A lot longer than yours, reaching about the top of his thighs, but still short. Like briefs. It gives you a good view of every single muscle in his long legs and you suddenly envy anyone that’s ever had the privilege to ride that thigh.
What the fuck am I thinking?! You give our head a shake and try to focus on his face as he waits. It’s only a second too late.
“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I-” you avert your eyes and quickly take a seat in your own lounge chair to his left, keeping your eyes on anything other than the mass that is his chest.
Just as you’d thought, it’s covered in a mouthwatering line of chest hair that trailers down onto his stomach and makes an ever so subtle trail down, down, down...down...down…
He chuckles, “It’s alright. It’s only fair you get a good look too, right?”
You’re not even processing what he’s saying, unable to focus for a bit.
“You’re here alone?” It’s more an observation than a question but you answer anyway, grasping at the distraction.
“Yes,” you nod. “A gift from my boss.”
“Me too,” he turns a little in his seat so that he can look at you, but adjusting his angle so that he can still keep his legs up, one propped up as he rests his elbow on his knee. The other stretched out before him.
This draws your gaze back to him and you’re able to pay attention this time and ignore his very distracting body.
“Oh?”
“I mean, not my boss, but it was a gift from a friend. He thought I could use a nice relaxing day.”
The way he says it, sounds like you’re not the only one saddled with what you perceived was a burden or at the very least, a waste of time.
You grin, “Mine too. My boss. I saved the company I work with from a scandal and his idea of repaying me was to give me a spa day. A raise would have been more than enough.”
“Tell me about it,” the man says, smiling with stunning pearly whites.
His smile is gorgeous and you’re enamored again by how sweet he looks.
How can someone look like he can tear the head off a rhino and still look so adorable? It can’t be fair.
“Rent keeps going up and my job doesn’t pay nearly enough to keep up. At this rate I might end up having to move back to the farm.”
“Oh,” you reply lamely, piecing together where he might have grown his sculpted figure. Farm work can be grueling.
He gives you a look, assessing your response then waves his hand gently as if to swat away his complaint, “Sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ve got it better than most. You don’t need to be hearing about my problems.”
“No!” you rush to assuage his worry. “No, it’s okay. That sucks about your job. Is there no chance at a raise?”
“Not exactly, I have a uh, a hobby that keeps me from taking more work and I kind of get paid by assignment. I have a flat salary but working extra would definitely help with the bills.”
“What do you do?” you wonder, trying to picture this guy doing anything other than just looking like a God in a spa.
He could be a bodyguard? They get assignments. Construction? Personal trainer?
“I’m a journalist,” he tells you, speaking matter-of-factly as if it makes perfect sense.
You blink, then chuckle and then laugh once.
“What?” he asks, amused and smiling again as you chuckle. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just, journalist is not where my mind went.”
He doesn’t seem surprised but he also doesn’t say anything else.
The two of you lapse into silence. It’s not uncomfortable and at least you don’t feel like you need to say anything to fill the dead air.
Twenty minutes pass and you lean back in your chair to relax, sighing lightly and smiling at the immaculate aura that this stranger seems to emanate.
It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
The longer you lay there, suddenly not sleepy at all, the more your curiosity grows. Turning towards him, you find him already looking at you.
This startles you but in a good way. You smile and the soft curve of his lips breaks into a full toothed smile.
Both of you move your lips to speak, but before you can either of you get a word in a rustle of palm leaves pulls both your attentions behind your seats.
You sit up, twisting a little to look at who’s come, expecting to see your escort or some other spa staff.
Instead you find a woman you’d spotted laying in another spot with who you’d thought was the other half of her couple. Her waist-length auburn hair clings to the skin of her bare shoulders and sides. She’s removed her top, leaving her in her bandeau.
“Hi,” she says to your stranger-wait not your stranger. Shoot.
He looks confused but not unfriendly, “Hello.”
“My friend finally talked me into coming over and talking to you,” she informs him.
“I see,” your-the stranger says.
The girl seems to be expecting something but the stranger just looks up at her expectantly. Awkwardly.
He looks at you and you quickly turn away from their conversation, pushing yourself to the end of the lounge to sit with your hands holding onto the edge, feet flat on the ground.
You try not to eavesdrop but they’re right there.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asks her, sounded polite but not uninterested.
You can hear the woman shifting from foot to foot, probably pushing her hips from side to side. Her figure is nice. Not like yours. She’s attractive, in a conventional way. In a magazine accepted way.
Your mood sinks the longer you ponder on this random girl and the stranger. There’s an endless string of disappointments that have built you into this person you are.
Insecurities made worse by words spoken by people that should have supported you or those you thought were on your side. Affections misplaced. Kindness taken advantage of. Betrayal. Worst of all the betrayal. Some small. Some big.
You know that you should be less shaky in your self worth. You know that you’re more than the words spoken and the actions taken that brought you to this point. But how do you turn it off? How to fight the thoughts that bring you down?
It’s not something you can do all at once. You know this. And yet feeling bad about yourself makes you feel guilty because you know it’s bad and that makes you feel worse. It’s an endless cycle.
You’re fully wallowing in your own self-pity before the girl even has a chance to answer the stranger’s question.
“Well, I noticed you came by yourself and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner sometime? Or maybe coffee?”
You don’t dare turn back, you just resign yourself to a lack of luck and stare out at nothing even though the view is really nice.
“Thank, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for a date right now, I don’t really have the time,” the stranger says, giving her a diplomatic response.
Letting her down without letting her down.
“Oh, well,” there’s a beat of silence. “In case you change your mind, here’s my number. Call me, if you find some time?”
You hear her retreat and the soft shift of what must be a business card against the wood of the table behind the stranger’s chair.
Movement shifts in your periphery and you see that the stranger has moved to the end of his own lounge, mimicking your pose though he’s much bulkier and takes up much more space.
“That was weird,” he says, a small puff of air passing between his lips as he huffs a laugh.
“Why?”
“Well, she just came up to me, out of nowhere,” he clarifies.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the first time that’s happened to you.”
The stranger seems to pick up on your mood shift, his face etched with concern as he tries to lean forward, head tilted a little as he strains for a better look at your face.
“Actually, that never happens to me,” he says. A lie?
“How about you?” he checks, probing gently to see if he can get you to talk.
“No. Never.”
“But you’re so-”
“I’m nothing,” you interrupt, the words an automatic response as if you’ve been hypnotized into saying those words exactly. A trained response.
The silence is no longer comfortable, but thick and heavy.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true. I’m nobody.”
It hurts to speak these words aloud. Words that have hurt you in the past. Words that have cut you time and again. Scars left behind by those people that should have loved you but didn’t.
“No one is nobody,” the stranger counters.
He watches you, observing.
You don’t like the front row seat he has to your wallowing. You try to pull yourself out of it but the hole just keeps getting deeper.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh, stealing a quick glance at him.
He’s still got his head tilted a little in pure concentration as he watches you, brow crinkled with focus.
It’s not judgement though, just intent. You can tell he’s really listening and it makes your heart flutter. No one has ever listened to you before. Not like this. Not with a deep desire to understand like he does.
He shakes his head, “Was it the girl coming over?”
You look away, feeling embarrassed, “She reminded me of someone I knew. Someone I dated.”
Nodding, he indicates that he’s listening.
You smile without humor, hurt by the memory, “He thought I should look like her. Or...he didn’t say exactly like her, but he said he wished I looked better.”
He frowns, his deep dislike for your story honest, “He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”
“No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t like, evil or anything, but yeah. Not a nice guy,” you admit, accepting that in that case, it was definitely your boyfriend’s problem.
“But that’s not it?”
You look at him.
“There’s more to it?” he guesses.
You look out at the scenic view finally, not really seeing it but appreciating the colors at least.
“This spa day?” you begin, stealing another glance at him.
He turns to sit facing you, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped as his listening intensifies.
“The only reason I got it was because as I said before I saved the company I work for from being dragged into scandal. I also lost a bunch of money by losing the client but my boss was pretty pleased.
“But the only reason I even touched the account was because I was sorta forced to?” Is that the best way to describe what happened?
“How were you forced to deal with that account?”
“Well, I’m not exactly the best with making friends? I mean, I have had friends before. I just--I got really sick a while back and I lost most of them because I cancelled on plans a lot or I didn’t have the energy to maintain contact? Even texting felt like such a chore. Just the act of responding and-I guess they thought that I thought being friends with them was a chore, and that wasn’t it.
“I just couldn’t find the energy to try to do anything. Some days I wouldn’t even eat because I’d have to get up and make myself food and I barely got up to go to the bathroom much less make a meal.
“Anyway, I just kind of gave up and they did to and now, I don’t really have an in with people? I don’t say much and it’s not that I don’t want to talk, I just don’t have anything worth saying. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything? I don’t know. But it affects work relationships too.”
“How?” he asks.
You take a deep breath, looking down at your hands clinging to the edge of the lounge before releasing it slowly.
“It’s really just me getting in my feelings,” you shrug.
“What you feel is what you feel, even if you don’t think you should. Our pasts can affect us well into our futures.”
His encouragement helps, and you feel a little less vulnerable to share with him.
“I work in the PR department. There are six of us in total. We’re a pretty big company. Multinational big. So there’s one of us for every form of media. Since we all work for the same clients, bridging the gap, we usually spread the workload evenly.
“Or, the other five members of my team do. Sometimes they just forget that I’m there and I usually get stuck with the leftover work. I’m not one to complain, so-” you shrug. “But they forget me for other stuff too. Company dinners. Competitions for prizes in the office. Secret Santa. Stuff like that.
“It makes me feel alone.”
You chance a glance at him, and he’s still watching you but his eyes are far away for a bit as if he’s remembering something.
“I know how that feels,” he nods. “I’ve felt alone almost all my life in some ways. Luckily, I’ve made a few friends to help me see things a little differently but that loneliness will never really go away.
“I understand.”
You smile, feeling more and more at peace again with him. Calm, like he really does get it.
He responds to the shift in your expression by relaxing his own. A small crinkle forms at the corners of his eyes, a subtle curve of his lips.
Now that you’re both feeling a little better, you can admit to yourself that you were jealous. Not just because the girl was everything that you were made to think you should be, but because this stranger, gorgeous as he is, is so nice.
He’s sweet and you want that in your next partner. You want to have someone care about you genuinely. You’re a little ashamed of wanting to claim him. Do you even dare entertain the thought?
“Yeah, I think you probably do,” you smile wider, turning in your seat to face him like he’s facing you.
“Now that you know all about my depression, would you like to know my name?” you ask him, teasing a smile.
He smiles more freely, “On a first date? Isn’t that moving kinda fast?”
Your stomach tumbles, heart sprinting at his words.
“A date?”
He only smiles wider, your heart stuttering before taking off at double speed again.
You tell him your name and then bite your lip, unable to believe your good luck.
“What about that other girl? You told her you weren’t looking for a date,” you wonder.
“Well, how can I be looking for a date when I’m already on one? Besides, how many girls do you think I can come across before I find another one wearing a shirt about my favorite book again?” he asks, all sincerity.
“Your favorite book is to Kill a Mockingbird?”
His smile is blinding.
“It’s really nice to meet you,” he nods, reaching out to shake your hand. “My name is Clark. Clark Kent.”
You take it and almost faint as your head goes dizzy at the soft touch of his skin.
The veins of his forearm bulge as he squeezes gently but he doesn’t actually shake it and instead seems to just hold your hand.
“Wait, I’ve seen your editorials before. You work at the Daily Planet.”
“I do,” he nods.
Your stomach suddenly falls, jealousy raking up along your ribs to settle around your heart to make it ache.
“Aren’t you dating Lois Lane? I thought-you two went to one of my boss’s parties together.”
It had been so long ago. Months and months. You remember Mr. Wayne going on about his friends Clark and Lois. You hadn’t met them, but Mr. Wayne had left to greet them when they’d arrived.
Clark’s own face falls just a tad, a small melancholic shift but it’s not deep. He keeps his smile, though smaller, and nods.
“We broke up last year,” he confesses, still not releasing your hand.
His thumb grazes against the back of it, sending goosebumps up from that point to spread along your arms and the rest of your body.
“I’m...not sorry?” you laugh, unable to help yourself because how can you be sorry about it now?
Clark also chuckles, “You know, right now, suddenly I’m not either.”
Before you can think of something cute to say, your stomach gurgles loudly, announcing to anyone close enough to hear that you’re hungry.
“Oh,” you utter, embarrassed as you finally take your hand back to rub your belly. “Sorry, I guess I haven’t eaten in a bit.”
“They have a menu here, I’ll grab us one.”
He rises and is gone before you can stop him and holy hell does he have a nice butt.
Watching him leave, you contemplate the way he used the word “us” so casually and wiggle with the pleasure it gives you.
As quick as you can, you look for any reflective surface and settle on the window across from you on which you can barely see yourself.
It’s enough though and you quickly go about fixing your hair which is surprisingly not bad even after all the treatments you’ve undergone.
A soft voice calls your name, the young woman who’s been escorting you.
“Hi, are you ready for your next treatment?” she smiles at you politely, kindly even, her body slightly bent down so that she won’t speak too loud and disturb the other people enjoying the hot room.
“Oh, um...I’m actually super hungry and I was going to order something to eat?”
The idea of being taken away to somewhere that you can’t be around Clark devastates you. You haven’t been this into anyone in so long.
“Oh okay! What would you like to order? Did you get a menu?”
The young woman gestures over her shoulder as if asking if she should go get you one.
“Actually-” but you don’t get to explain because Clark suddenly steps up to loom over both of you.
He doesn’t mean to, you don’t think, he’s just so big and he kind of naturally just looms.
“Hi,” he greets her kindly, and she flushes.
You can’t blame her. She takes a step back to put some space between herself and Clark and she’s seriously flustered. He’s hot.
Clark squeezes back by and sits himself in his seat before opening the paper menu and leaning towards you to give you a look.
You read through the choices quickly and nothing looks too crazy.
“Ooh, this one looks good,” you tell him, pointing down at the bottom of the menu.
“Should we get that one?”
“Yeah!” you reply eagerly, excited for the food.
You’re really very hungry.
“Can we get the gourmet pizza?” Clark asks, “And an order of the mini muffins? What kind are they?”
“Blueberry today,” the girl informs him, back to her composed and professional attitude.
“Two orders of those. And…”
“You don’t offer any kind of burger?” you ask the young woman looking back at her.
She smiles kindly but shakes her head, “No, sorry. The closest would be the sandwiches. We have tuna, cucumber, egg salad, and ham.”
While they sound like normal sandwiches, you have a suspicion that they’re going to be fancy in one way or another.
“Can we have an order of the tuna?”
She nods.
“And we’ll get the chocolate fondue, for desert?” Clark adds, folding up the menu and handing it to your escort.
“Alrighty, and for drinks? We can bring just plain water or perhaps some herb infused tea?”
“Do you have any sweet tea?” you wonder.
She nods.
“Two please,” Clark smiles. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” your escort says and hurries off to put in the order.
Both of you watch her go then when you meet Clark’s eyes, he laughs, just once. Failing to keep it inside.
“Did we order too much?” you wonder.
“I’m hungry too,” Clark assures you.
“I really wanted a burger,” you lament. “I mean, this food will probably be better than some greasy burger but-”
“A burger sounds like heaven. I love greasy burgers. Double meat. Triple cheese. Lots of pickles.”
He makes a funny face, pretending to salivate over the image he’s painted and while it’s a subtle change in his expression, you can tell that he’s more prone to being serious and that makes the gesture funnier for some reason.
You laugh, shaking your head.
He laughs with you, leaning back in his lounge.
You follow his lead, then turn onto your side and shove an arm underneath your head.
He mimics your pose, drawing his long legs up a little to bend them.
“I’m sorry about earlier, with the locker room? I really didn’t know that I wasn’t supposed to change in there.”
Clark’s smiles shift to a soft curve of his lips.
“I’m the one that should be apologizing,” he counters. “I walked in on you.”
“But you had no idea I’d be in there half naked, I kinda just thrust my body at you.”
There’s a beat, he looks down at your chair instead of maintaining eye contact, then, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Your neck is suddenly on fire. Cheeks, ears, the base of your belly. It all burns as your heart stutters.
As he looks up to meet your eyes again, those baby blues burning with a striking spark, something he said when you first came in here replays itself in your head.
You frown, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hey, when I came in here, I apologized for staring at your naked upper body and you said that it was only fair I get a good look too.
“Are you saying you saw me when you clearly said you didn’t in the locker room?!”
Clark averts his eyes, clearing his throat loudly before throwing himself onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.
“I’m gonna have to get my friend something really good in return for gifting me this spa day,” Clark says, pointedly changing the subject.
But he has a point. This has been the best little indulgence you’ve ever given yourself and none of it could have been possible without Mr. Wayne’s generosity.
“Me too. I’ll have to make sure my boss knows how glad I am that he forced me to come here.”
Clark smiles, “What’s your next treatment? Did you pick them before you came?”
“We could do that?” You gasp.
Clark just smiles wider.
“No, I’m just going with the flow. The girl who took our order has been suggesting stuff and I’ve just been going with it.”
“I have a fresh water soak after this. You should join me.” Clark offers.
After the hot room, a swim in some fresh water sounds like heaven. And extending your time with Clark is a definite bonus.
“Aren’t we not supposed to swim for thirty minutes after we eat?” you tease.
Clark chuckles, “It’s a soak.”
Then, his voice shifts and you’re knocked breathless as he basically pleads with you.
“Join me. Only if you want to. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Your brain is buzzing with that pleading voice of his. Gentle urging that betrays his want to be with you rather than wanting to control you.
“A fresh water soak sounds amazing.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Nothing could ever top today. You and Clark stuck together the rest of the day. It was fun getting to know him and exciting because the longer you two spent time together, the closer he sat to you.
As you dropped your spa outfit into a canvas souvenir bag that your attendee had given you at your last treatment--a couple’s massage that you and Clark had talked all the way through--Clark peeked around his own locker door, shutting it.
“So, I was thinking,” he began, moving to lean beside your locker as he towers over you, making you internally swoon with the curve of his lips.
“Yeah?” you urge him on, taking your other belongings and throwing them into the canvas bag along with your spa outfit which is also free for you to take.
“I have some things to do tonight but, how would you like to get some burgers tomorrow?”
“Are you asking me out on a second date, Clark?” as much as you wish you could sound like you were teasing, your excitement betrays you and Clark beams at your tone.
“Definitely,” he says low and deep.
Fuck, you’re totally screwed. You’re falling hard.
You really want to reach up and gently slide the curl falling on his forehead to the side lightly, but you resist the urge.
“I’d love to go out and get greasy burgers with you,” you bite your lip and Clark’s expression shifts a bit more serious but there’s a fire in his eyes, a darkening as his pupils dilate that makes your heart stutter.
“Come on,” Clark nods towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
He bumps into you, flirtatiously nudging you as he leads you out and you return his gentle push with your own.
“Had you been to a spa like this before?”
“No,” Clark shakes his head. “I actually don’t get much benefit at these places. It feels good, but it’s not really my thing. You?”
“I feel cleaner than I ever have,” you scoff. “But I could never afford it. Even the cheap places. I’d rather just take a walk around a park or something.”
“Me too,” Clark agrees, smiling.
As the two of you walk out into the parking lot, the cooler air outside feels pleasant against your treated skin.
In the setting sun light, Clark looks especially good and you can’t help yourself. You steal several glances at him with no worry as to hiding it.
You’re happy to see he’s doing it too.
“Oh good,” a familiar voice interrupts, pulling your feet to a stop as you search for your boss’s face. “You two met.”
“Wait, us two-?”
“Bruce?” Clark also stops beside you, eyes narrowed, a crinkle between his eyes.
You look between the two of them, confused but starting to put two and two together.
“Bruce? You-Mr. Wayne is your friend who gave you the voucher?” you realize.
Clark looks at you, his own realizations starting to manifest.
“Bruce is your boss?”
Mr. Wayne moves towards the two of you, hands shoved into his long charcoal gray coat. There’s a satisfied grin on his handsome face, a pride in what you realize must have been a carefully crafted maneuver.
Clark looks at you, a knowing smile on his face as if amused but maybe also a little irritated? Not with you, of course. Clearly his annoyance is with Mr. Wayne.
“You did this,” he accepts, looking back at Mr. Wayne with a tilt of his head.
“I didn’t do anything,” Mr. Wayne denies. “I just gave you two a free day at the spa. Did she tell you why I gave her the voucher?”
“She did,” Clark nods.
“Not every PR rep would overlook a five hundred million dollar investment in order to keep us clean from associating with a suspected illegal arms dealer. Most of them would just look the other way.” Mr. Wayne brags.
A look of understanding crossing Clark’s face and he looks down at you, smiling again as if he’s pieced together a puzzle.
“It was really nothing, Mr. Wayne, and thank you for today. I-I’m actually really glad I came. I would have hated it if the voucher expired.”
“Expired?” Clark asks, turning that confused look back on his friend. “They don’t expire.”
Mr. Wayne clears his throat and turns his full body away from you both, looking back at his shiny expensive sports car.
“Yeah, they do,” he says.
“Bruce,” Clark chides.
“We’re gonna be late,” Mr. Wayne says, ignoring Clark’s reprimand, then looks at you as he pretends he wasn’t just caught in a lie. “Do you have a ride home?”
“Yeah, I brought my car,” you gesture at a modest white sedan parked a few spots over.
“Good. I’ll see you on Monday. Clark?” Mr. Wayne urges him, then walks towards his car.
“I’ll be right there,” Clark tells him, then waits for you to lead the way to your car.
Your heart is still thrumming rapidly with the realization that Mr. Wayne went out of his way to make sure you and Clark met. A set up?
You stop by your car door and unlock it. Clark is quick to take the door from you as you open it and he holds it with his left arm as you turn to look up at him.
“I had a lot of fun today, despite the obvious premeditation of us meeting,” you scoff. “I’m glad I met you.”
You’re quickly becoming acquainted with the gentle curve of Clark’s lips, the peek of his pearly whites as he blushes and meets your eyes.
“I’m glad Bruce interfered,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow for burgers?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” you assure him.
After a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and places his hand on your bicep then traces the length of your arm until he can take your hand.
It sets your skin on fire. It makes you dizzy and breathless.
“You have my number,” you remind him, eager to reconnect if he has the time.
He gives you that pearly smile, blue eyes full of excitement, “I’ll call you later. Tonight?”
You nod, “Tonight.”
He waits for you to get in, shutting the door for you when you’re sitting.
You lower the window as he backs away, “Bye.”
“Bye,” he nods, then turns to meet Mr. Wayne at his car.
“What?” Bruce asks, “It’s been months. She’s perfect for you.”
“Really?!” you can hear Clark demand, more annoyed with his friend again than any consequences his actions might have brought, however positive.
“You like her, don’t you?” Mr. Wayne asks.
“That’s not the point, Bruce. Boundaries.” Clark reminds him. “Why did you lie to her?”
“I knew you were coming today, I had to get her here,” Mr. Wayne explains. “Besides, you’re-”
As their doors shut, you’re cut off from their distant conversation. You shut your window, watch them speed out, and smile to yourself at the unexpected turn your spa day took.
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hpalways · 4 years ago
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Radiating || Albedo
SNOW was very pretty, light to the touch and made of a color so pure that it was almost unbelievable. However, it was a double edge sword, for its beauty came with a price. It was dangerous. As an aspect of nature, a touch of it could freeze a human to death if there was no heat source available, or the slip of ice beneath the fluffy matter could cause a steep fall. This came from experience and a trusted source: you. Because you were currently struggling with the exact problem.
"Shit!" you exclaimed, losing your balance from the black ice beneath your soles. Skidding through the surfaces, you clumsily held your hands out in case you were to bump into anything. Bumping into something, you did... but it was in the least expected way.
Your toe stubbed by a rock on the ground, the external force of it sent you flying into the cool, biting air. Letting out a silent scream, you tumbled through the hills. Continuously getting hit by your surroundings, your body burst with pain. It only ended when you reached a cliff, where you tried to latch onto something to prevent your fall. Despite your panicked attempts, you were tipped over and fell for a good few seconds. 
The impact was great, knocking the oxygen out of you. Gasping and coughing from it, you laid there in the snow for a while, exhausted. You wished you could just flutter your eyes shut and sleep the stress away, but the cold was beginning to make its way back to you after all that excitement. Fingers growing numb and a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead, it was about time you find a warm source.
Pushing yourself up, you groaned to yourself and brushed yourself off. It was painful at first, but it didn't take too long for it to fade. That was the advantage for having so much strength. Strength didn't mean you were invisible to the cold though, thus why you needed to hurry up and get out of here. 
Before you could start running with your impressive speed, a monster appeared from the shadows. Lumbering towards you, it was a frostarm lawachurl. It didn't look too happy to see you, considering you must've woken them up with your ruckus. The blue, huge creature let out a snarl, ready to kill. 
Compared to you, it was slow as a slug, so you could easily outrun it. Preparing the kickstart, you were about to run a mile when a voice stilled you. "[Y/N]? Where are you?" It was a calm, low voice, soothing and steady to the ears. Coming from the cliff you were on earlier, footsteps were approaching the edge. Craning your neck back, your [e/c] eyes met teal-blue ones. Ashy blond locks laying upon his shoulders, looking winded as if he ran into trouble coming here. It was none other than Albedo, the known Alchemist of Mondstadt. The man was gorgeous; you had to rub your hues the first time you saw him. 
"Down here!" you called out. In the momentary distraction, you were nearly slashed by the monster's claws in front of you.
"You were thinking of running away earlier, weren't you," he stated, his analytical gaze haunting you. "You need to fight them. How else am I supposed to study you?"
He knew you too well. At the start of his research, you were full-on board, since he was of use to you. But as time went on, the lazier you got. He promised that he would do the best of his abilities to find out the phenomenon of you coming from another world. That was right; you were from another world. You used to live in a place where there were powers of strength and speed, but no elemental powers. Sleeping and waking up to find yourself here at Dragonspine, you were at a lost of words when Albedo magically formed Geo crystals in front of you. 
Sighing in defeat, you approached the ferocious beast. Clenching your fists, you readied your stance and rushed towards it. Your knuckles jagged, you pounded them against the monster's hard chest. With a few hits, the monster was knocked into the air, before crashing to the ground with a flat thud. It was already dead.
”I will always be in awe of this,” he murmured in the distance. You whirled around to see him furiously scribbling something on his notepad. As he did that, you hugged your arms around yourself, shivering in place. It was only then when he was finished with his journaling did he notice your predicament. Slight worry tinged his expression and he quickly beckoned you with his hand. “Let’s head back to my workshop.”
Finally! After climbing up the cliff carefully, you followed the young man back to the safety of his cozy cave. Contrary to your previous beliefs, the space was much more disorganized than you expected it to be. Vials of potions were hung up, while scatters of papers decorated his desk. His creations were laid around the place and a bookshelf sat on one side. Strewn boxes filled of who knew what laid there and in the way. 
The most important part was the fire, of course. 
Pushing passed the blond male and crouching near the fire, a breath of relief left your lips. The red, fiery thing blazed like a living thing, allowing you to be able to feel your fingers once more. While you sat there, Albedo proceeded to business. At his desk, he put down additional notes, attentative to his task. It was silent for a good amount of time, but it felt right. 
You were getting quite comfortable with him. 
His hawk-like vision suddenly noticed something about you. He got out of his seat and made his way to you. Peering down at your legs, he was in deep thought. Confused by his actions, you looked down to see what he was staring at. It was a cut — one out of the many cuts you must’ve recieved during your fall. 
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed it off. “It was just a small fall I had.”
He ignored your words, rolling your sleeves and pants up to reveal multiple dark gashes made on your [s/c] skin. “Yes. A small fall,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll go fetch a concoction for your wounds and some bandages.”
“There’s no need for that. Nothing hurts at all,” you protested. He didn’t respond, marching forward to the shelf filled of clear bottles of bubbling substance. In dismay, you had no choice but to watch him find the materials. He was so stubborn, dammit.
He returned with the promised materials in hand and sat himself down. Carefully pulling his dark gloves out, tender, pale hands were shown afterwards. Your eyes widened. It was rare to see him without his gloves... they were as pretty as he was. Wait. This meant that he would apply it then. 
“H-Hold up! I can do this myself. You don’t need to waste time on me,” you argued. 
“Concoctions are different from regular ointment,” he explained. “Anyway, I don’t mind at all. My precious subject got hurt because of me. It is only right for me to do this.”
Subject? Ouch. That stung a lot more than you thought it would. Were the two of you not friends by now? Keeping quiet with disappointment, you eventually allowed him the opportunity to heal you up. Hard at work, he began to coat the liquid over your wounds. His soft skin gingerly spread it over your arms and legs, leaving tingles in its wake. Heart pounding against your chest, you averted your eyes away from him. What was this feeling you were having?
He ended it by wrapping the bandages professionally, securing the products in place. Looking proud of himself, he nodded. “That should do it.”
“Thank you for this,” you told him softly as you rolled your sleeves back down. “Hey, Albedo. Does your name have a meaning to it?”
He blinked at you for a few seconds, surprise painting his features. “It does. Why the sudden question?”
You fiddled with your hands in embarrassment. “Well, it’s just that you know so much about me through our researches, but when it comes to you, you remain a mystery to me. I want to get to know you a bit better.”
He looked shocked to hear this, as if this was the first time he heard someone say this to him. Despite having a popular reputation in Mondstadt, you knew his hidden side. He was a reserved person who didn’t form many relationships. Instead, he delved himself into the world of alchemy, seeking truth nonstop. It led you to think he was lonely... so you wanted to be by his side — there to always support him. Unfortunately, if you were to return to your world, your time with him was not going to be permanent. Nothing was permanent. 
“Well?” you said. “What’s the meaning of it?”
”Whiteness,” he replied, snapping out of his daze. “The measure of the diffuse reflector of solar radiation. Does it fit me?”
You could barely understand the jumble of words he uttered out. It sounded like he was speaking another language. Yet, the sentence sounded very bright, beautiful, strong, hard-working, intelligent, and amiable. It certainly sounded like him. Albedo was so radiating, you sometimes had to shut your eyes because it hurt. 
“Yes, it does.”
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onlyherefortheshowmances · 4 years ago
Text
So I saw someone else get an anon message that said: “I hate to admit this, but I really can't shake the feeling that Benji loves Victor more than Victor loves Benji at this point.” I wanted to respond as well, because I think this is something people are probably seeing a lot and I really want to explain how I’m looking at it (from personal experience and just from looking at and examining the characters).
CW/TW: Mental Health, suicidal ideation/action mention, Addiction, Emotional Trauma, sex mention, Predatory relationship mention, catholicism, homophobia, misunderstandings, lack of communication, spoilers for love victor seasons 1 & 2 [let me know if I missed anything please]
I want to be frank in saying that Benji is my favorite character and I project onto him a lot (along with seeing a lot of myself in him). I’m also white AF, so I’m sure some of you think that’s relevant, but I really don’t think it is in this particular case. I do also however identify with Victor in a number of ways and I am trying to see the characters both as complex individuals with deep personal histories. Both have suffered traumas and both are clearly dealing with a lot of their own shit on top of being sixteen/seventeen and dealing with junior year of high school and all the pressures and expectations that brings for everyone.
I think what people are interpreting at loving someone more/less is actually about prioritizing someone/a relationship more/less. In my mind, from what I see on screen and interpret, they both love each other beyond words. They are both very much in love with one another. It comes down to how they display that to each other and to the public as well as where on their list of priorities this relationship falls.
Let’s start with Victor, struggles and life:
He is dealing with internalized homophobia and associated thought-patterns stemming from his upbringing in the Catholic church as well from the vocalized homophobic remarks from his mother (toward himself and Benji as well as likely at other points in his life toward strangers), his father (stating that he hopes Adrian doesn’t turn out ‘like that’; the scene in S1 where they’re at the church in Texas and he calls the hairdresser ‘flojito’; etc.), and his grandparents (on his birthday and likely at other points in his life). As a result of this, Victor tried to make himself straight (or at least interested in a girl) by dating Mia because he did like her as a person and everyone was telling him that’s what he was supposed to do. He ended up hurting her and almost losing her friendship (temporarily, he did, but she does seem to have forgiven him now).
He is dealing with outside homophobia as well. That kid on the very first day he was Creekwood responding to Benji helping him up. Felix’s comment that same day of ‘you don’t want to give people the wrong idea.’ The basketball team/gym class guys roasting him about not hooking up with Mia on the ferris wheel. Felix saying he’d be crazy to not like Mia. Lake asking ‘are you gay or something’ when he brought Felix along to Mia’s house, etc., etc. Some of these things may seem innocent enough, but they weren’t. Not to Victor who was already struggling to accept even the possibility that he might be gay. Once he managed to come out to his parents, obviously his father got better fairly quickly, but Isabel continued to struggle for six months which put even more pressure on Victor to try to lead this double life. Once he came out at school, the whole fiasco with the basketball team also occurred and that was a lot for him, because Basketball as always his safe-space. It’s where he went to get away from all the other pressure. It was something he didn’t have to think about and now suddenly, he did. Those pressure are also affecting his ability to think about what he may want and it seems affecting his ability to think (at all sometimes) about how any of that is also affecting Benji. It’s affecting him so much that he’s basically blind to how it’s also affecting Benji to see him suffer. He doesn’t even consider that possibility until Felix brings up how hard it is for him the night Felix breaks up with Lake and Venji get caught having sex.
Victor also has struggles away from just his coming out and accepting himself journey. He has the struggles associated with his parents separation. Until fairly recently, Victor always thought his parents had a perfect relationship. He saw that as the ideal. Get together in High School, get married right away, stay together for ever, happily ever after. That’s what he was raised to expect. And now he’s seeing their relationship fall apart before his eyes. Hell, his devoutly Catholic mother had an affair, and he’s wondering if it’s really possible for your first love to be your only love especially after he and Benji start butting heads, so he’s already vulnerable to that viewpoint when Rahim brings up the possibility. He gets so lost in what’s happening to his parents and what Rahim is saying about it not usually working out that he forgets how in love he is and he sort of loses his will to fight for what he wants, because maybe it’s just doomed to fail anyway (until he sees Benji at the wedding and it sort of hits again - and then Felix’s speech thereafter, obviously). He kind of loses his way by getting caught up in the statistic improbability of your first love being the one and watching his parents’ marriage potentially fall apart and he wonders for a moment if it might be easier, if it might be better to just walk away and go toward Rahim who he seem to get along with and seems to understand the things Benji doesn’t about him, but what he fails to examine in that moment is that he’s only barely scratched the surface with Rahim and that Rahim doesn’t know him like Benji does and that every relationship has it’s ups and downs and what it always comes down to is how willing both parties are to work to make things right. How much you’re willing to step into the other person’s shoes and try to understand. In my opinion, even if he were to walk away from Benji and go to Rahim, that bubble of understanding isn’t going to last forever either. He’s failing to remember that when he got together with Benji (and for most of the summer it seems) that’s exactly what it was like and failing to remember that they have grown beyond that into a deep soul-altering love for one another that deserves his time, energy, and effort and NEEDS those things to keep it going.
Now let’s talk about Victor’s priorities in life:
Victor has always been close with his family, especially his mother. The strain on that relationship is very taxing on his mental well-being. He has a hard time ‘standing up to’ her or talking back to her, etc. because he loves her and he just wants their easy, close relationship back. He already overcame his own anger at her affair to get her back, but now she’s the one pulling away because of his sexuality and it’s hurting him because if he was able to forgive her for something that was actually wrong, why can’t she forgive him for something that he has no control over. So he loves his mother and his family and he hates disappointing them. He has spent most of his life fixing his family’s issues (as he explains to Simon in S1), but now he is the issue and he doesn’t know how to handle it. When in 2x1 he decides to just bring Benji over and try exposure therapy with his mom, it backfires in a big way. Even though they barely touch each other. Even though Benji just says the word boyfriend once, it’s too much for Isabel and Victor desperately wants to please. He desperately wants to not lose his mother (who has always been the person he is closest to), so that causes him to take a step back from going against her and the steps he still takes (telling her he wants her to call Benji his boyfriend not just his friend, the whole conversation outside the church, the conversation with Adrian, etc.) are things that Benji doesn’t get to see happening and it frustrated Victor that Benji won’t even listen to him when he tries to say that his mom is making progress at all, because she is so important to him and yet it seems like Benji just doesn’t even recognize or care about that. This leads him to say the thing he does at Brasstown before Benji runs out, because he assumes that it has to do with Benji being white and of course, that is part of it, but I think Victor in that moment is so overwhelmed by the rejection of his mother and now the refusal of his boyfriend to even try to understand that he snaps. He forgets all the struggles Benji has told him from his own past and he just lashes out which causes Benji to leave [more on Benji’s viewpoint of this whole thing later].
Victor also loves basketball. It’s true that in some case LGBTQIA+ individual participate in certain activities to make them seem more ‘normal’. Gay men participating in sports to seem more macho is a common one, so Benji thinking that’s why Victor plays basketball makes sense to an extend, but he never bothers to ask Victor about, only makes assumptions, and Victor feels like the fact that he actually likes sports makes him ‘not gay enough’ (see conversation with Andrew). What he’s forgetting entirely is his encounter with Bram and the gay basketball league in NYC from episode 1x8. There are many ways to be gay, and sports gays do exist and are perfectly valid. That’s not the type of gay Benji or his friends/bandmates are, but it is the type that Victor is and Benji failing to recognize that and failing to understand or even ask Victor about that drives one of many wrenches into their relationship. In episode 1x5 when Benji shows up to Victor’s first game back on the team and does the Go Grizzlies dance with the other basketball girlfriends, it definitely does a lot of help Victor realize this was just a miscommunication/misunderstanding rather than anything malicious. Basketball and his teammates continue to be a priority for him after this, but that seems to be something Benji is now capable of understanding.
Finally, Victor loves Benji. He wants to be with Benji; there is zero doubt about that. However, for Victor when he’s put on the spot (as in episode 2x8) and basically told he has to choose his mom (who has raised him and been his closest confidant and biggest supporter for his entire life) or his boyfriend (who he’s known for almost a year and been dating for six months and is helplessly in love with) it processes as an error message in his brain. He just wants everyone to get along. He’s not mad that Adrian knows that he’s gay (he’s wanted him to know for months), but he is upset that his mom is now even angrier. [see my section about Benji in this moment, for more about Isabel’s reactions as well] In his mind, telling Adrian could wait. In his mind, he was willing to go along with his mom’s requests for a while longer just to keep the peace so to speak. He didn’t want his whole life to fall apart and that’s what he thought was about to happen in that moment. That’s why he asked Benji to leave. He didn’t want to make his mom any angrier. Could he have chosen his words better? Yes. Could he have made Benji understand better? Yes. But he’s sixteen and his brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity because post-sex brain is definitely a thing and he was also looking at his mom who has already been horrible and barely able to look at him for six months, looking even angrier after he finally thought they’d made some progress after church the previous week.
So in conclusion, regarding Victor:
He loves his family (especially his mom). He loves Benji. He loves Basketball. Obviously, he’s not going to prioritize basketball over either of the human beings involved, but I think it’s important to at least note it’s importance in his life. As for Isabel vs. Benji. To Victor, these are the two most important people in his life. All he wants is to be able to love both of them and have both of them love him in return. When they are pit against each other, especially directly, it’s hard for him to make a choice. It’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to his mom and it’s hard for him to say ‘no’ to Benji, but in the moment (episode 2x8 specifically), he takes Isabel’s side, because he knows the ramifications of saying no to her and of making her even more angry that she already is are far worse than the ones for asking Benji to leave for the night. He failed to realize however, how close Benji already was to the edge and how upset he was going to be and how little he understood (or was willing to try to understand) about the situation. This is something he really needs to communicate with Benji (even though it’s not quite as important now that Isabel’s apparently come around). I think it’s important for Benji to understand that Victor values his relationship with his mother enough that it’s difficult for him to go against her without a lot of preparation and having a fully fledged reason, etc.
Now for Benji - Struggles and Life:
The obvious of course is that Benji is a sixteen/seventeen year old that’s barely a year sober and attending AA meetings regularly. Recovering from Alcoholism is difficult at any age let alone for a teenager. One of the most important factors in recovery is looking at the things that led you to drink in the first place. Looking at things that may be considered triggers and either learning to avoid those people/situations or learning healthy alternatives in those situations. I have multiple family members who are both actively drinking alcoholics as well as those in recovery. I also lost my best friend/ex-fiancé to alcoholism a few years ago, so to say I have some personal experience in this arena is putting it lightly. Benji admits to Victor in 1x7 that he used to drink a lot because he knew he was gay, but didn’t want to be. To me that whole story screamed, I’m an alcoholic and while a lot of others agreed with that opinion. I was not shocked that Victor didn’t understand that underlying truth. Those that don’t have intimate familiarity with alcoholism often do not recognize the signs (either as they happen when when they are not directly told). It is made clear in episodes 2x7 & 2x8 that Benji hates this part of himself, in fact he says as much to Victor when he arrives at his apartment late the night of his birthday. Benji has still not fully accepted that the alcoholic part of himself that attends AA meetings and drinks orange juice while his friends are drinking vodka is one and the same with the part of himself that loves Victor with all his heart. This is something I’d really like to see him reconcile and work on in season 3 and beyond. Understand that you can’t compartmentalize yourself. You are but one whole person and all facets of yourself are in fact part of the singular you. [Not accounting for those with dissociative identity disorder.] It’s not directly mentioned if he’s still struggling with urges to drink, but most if not all alcoholics do, especially when experiencing those aforementioned triggers. Seeing Benji meeting with his sponsor after the incident with Isabel/Victor is not shocking to me and if anything, that was the healthy and correct response on his part. The reason he was drinking in the first place was that he was gay and didn’t want to be (internalized and probably external homophobia) and he just experience some really intense homophobia at the hands of his boyfriend’s mom (and partially said boyfriend himself). Benji’s lack of understanding of where Isabel was coming from in episode 1x8 speaks volumes to just how traumatize Benji still is about his own experiences with homophobia. The only thing he can think about in that moment is that this woman hates me for being gay. She hates her son for being gay. Being gay isn’t okay, etc. What he doesn’t factor in is that Isabel is also devoutly Catholic. I honestly don’t think it’s the gay part of the sex that horrified her the most. The Catholic faith is also very clear on the practice of abstinence from sex (at all) prior to marriage. She would’ve responded the same way had she walked in on Victor having sex with a girl, in my opinion, but in the moment Benji’s own trauma is overriding his ability to understand that because all he can see is the homophobia. This is especially true after she calls him Victor’s friend rather than his boyfriend and that in my opinion, is why he snaps. Could he have phrased it better? Yes. Could he have said it without shouting? Yes. But he is a freshly seventeen-year-old whose brain is not functioning on all cylinders in that moment.
Sort of coupled with his alcoholism and recovery therefrom is the allusion his mother makes to ‘dark times’ following his accident. I do have suspicions that perhaps he was also struggling with mental illness, and likely continues to. Depression to the point of suicidal ideation or actions (possibly only in the form of drinking, but possibly in other forms as well). Anxiety is pretty obvious from his actions and reactions throughout the series as well. I also think he is dealing with some sort of trauma-based disorder stemming from the homophobia he experienced (especially the instance of his father taking him to strip-club). It may go as far as C-PTSD (which I myself am diagnosed with) or it maybe something less (or even more). I’m not in the habit of sticking mental health diagnoses of people (fictional or otherwise though). Dealing with these things on top of what in his eyes feels like rejection from not only Isabel, but in a way from Victor as well likely causes some very unpleasant thought patterns and the potential for thought spirals and the likely. I also see indications that he could suffer from co-dependency (whish I also have dealt with in the past), but I’m honestly not sure if that’s me projecting or if it’s actually there.
Then on top of all of that, his boyfriend who he loves more than anything in the world, tells his deepest darkest secret to someone he’s literally never met or spoken to and that said boyfriend has only known for maybe a week at best and thinks it’s no big deal. In that moment, I can 110% see why Benji requests to take a break and I feel that choice is 110% the right one to make. What is a relationship built on if not trust? Victor just destroyed most if not all of the trust Benji had in him. That doesn’t mean he stopped loving him, just that he doesn’t trust him. Love isn’t something you can turn off and on like a light switch especially not the kind these two share. I definitely think Victor has a lot of explaining to do and a lot of apologies to make. I do also think they both need to have a really long, really honest and open conversation. Benji needs to be willing to get a little vulnerable and explain why certain things are causing him so much distress, but he also needs to be willing to listen to Victor explain why he can’t simply go against his mother as Benji seems to think he should. They both really demonstrated a degree of selfishness this season along with an lack of communication and a lack of willingness to understand or even try to understand each other’s points of view and that is a recipe for disaster in any relationship.
There also exists the issue of Benji’s parents. His mother especially seems to overstep quite frequently and insert herself into his life where she was not invited or expected. I do wonder if this was always her personality or if this is something that started after Benji’s accident. I have a hunch it was likely the latter. I see indications that perhaps there was some neglect or just general indifference on his parents part as he was growing up. They clearly missed that he had started drinking heavily and that he stole his dad’s car that night. He was also evidently dating Derek for quite a while before the accident. (Derek is another section by himself though.) This not to mention the fact that his father took him to a strip club and paid for a lap dance when he was no more than sixteen if he was even that old, in an effort to turn him straight. Benji tells Victor in episode 1x7 that he and his dad used to be close and that they used to go to Dollywood on road trips and other such things, but that he’s been distant since he came out. We see from the scene where he walks in on Benji and Victor making out that he’s not vocally/outwardly homophobic, but I would not doubt that he still harbors some of those viewpoints in himself. It’s evident to me that Benji is not close to his parents (he may once have been, but at this point it’s pretty clear that he’s not anymore). Benji doesn’t have siblings to the best of our knowledge. It’s also mentioned that his nana (like a paternal grandmother) is deceased, so it’s really not clear how much contact he even has with his extended family or how much of one exists. For these reasons, in his mind, there is no circumstance where his family (especially not his parents) would take precedence of his own happiness or Victor’s. That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him that Victor doesn’t stand up to Isabel, because if the roles were reversed, he would have no problem at all telling his own mother (or father) off. He doesn’t seem to comprehend Victor’s need to keep his relationship with his mother intact. I’m very glad Isabel pointed out to him that Victor has stood up to her and risked their relationship for him, but the disconnect still lies in that Benji isn’t a fan of the fact that he didn't’ do that in his presence and that he didn’t do more.
Then there’s Derek. Derek is at least a sophomore in college in season 2 as he was clearly in college in season 1 as well. Meaning he is at least 19/20 when Benji is 16/17. They had been together for a year the previous spring (episode 1x6) which means they started dating when Benji was 15 and Derek was no younger than 18 (I think he is like at least a year older than the youngest possibility). Georgia’s age of consent is 16, and there are no ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in place in the state meaning it is categorically illegal for anyone 18 years of age or older to engage in sexual acts with anyone 15 years of age or younger unless they are legally wed, meaning until Benji’s 16th birthday, this relationship was illegal in general not to mention the predatory nature of someone in college dating a high school sophomore to begin with. They generally don’t prosecute if the people involved are within 4 years of each other though (which coincides with ‘Romeo and Juliet’ laws in other states) which they could’ve been within depending on Derek’s actual age and birthday. It doesn’t seem like charges were filed either way which is questionable on Benji’s parents part. Benji also tells Victor in 1x10 that Derek made him feel bad a lot of the time about the things he like and about being a romantic, we also see Derek crap all over Benji’s special anniversary date in 1x6. The toxicity of that relationship is sure to have left it’s mark on Benji and carried over into his new relationship with Victor. I also find it questionable that knowing that, Benji was shitting all over Victor’s love for basketball at one point (isn’t that exactly what he complained about Derek doing to him about his interests?), though as you see in my earlier comments, I do understand that perhaps Benji wasn't’ fully aware that Victor actually liked basketball and wasn’t just doing it to seem straight/make his dad happy/etc. I also think it’s quite confusing that Victor managed to come up with that date idea for Benji in 1x6 and then the best he could do for Benji’s birthday was champagne and sex? I’d be more than marginally hurt over that if I was Benji, to be completely fair. It is also worth it to note that Benji stayed with Derek for over a year despite all of their problems (which goes back to the possibility of co-dependency issues) and yet he was willing to break up with him just to chase after the possibility of Victor. They had already connected on so many levels even prior to that night that even the possibility of that relationship made Benji willing to leave someone he’d been with for more than a year (obviously Victor’s little speech in the hallway played a part in that).
Benji’s Priorities:
In Benji’s world, he has a few things that could be considered priorities.
Maintaining his sobriety is obviously one, but he keeps that separate from everything else. I don’t see it being held above or below anyone or anything. It’s just a completely separate thing to him (which again I feel he needs to reconcile). He was able to do that while also appeasing his friends and Victor (see episode 2x4 where he switches out his cups).
His music/band is obviously a priority, but again that’s something basic that everyone knows about and accepts. He doesn’t have choose between that and anything or anyone else that we’re shown.
Victor is his primary priority however. To him, that is the most important relationship/person in his life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He says he loves that part of his life which I take to mean, he loves who he is when they’re together and not so much when they’re apart. To him, there is no question of who he would choose if there was a choice in front of him between Victor and literally anyone else (including his parents). That is why it confuses/hurts/angers him when the choice isn’t so simple for Victor when he actually has to make one between Benji and Isabel. Benji isn’t close with his parents and he doesn’t seem to understand what it is like for someone that is. Even if his parents didn’t come around right away. Even if they still may not be fully on board with everything, it didn't’ matter that much to him, because he could stand up to them because he didn’t care about destroying a relationship, because there already wasn’t much of one to begin with. This leads to him not understanding that Victor is seriously conflicted in the moments where he is made to choose between his boyfriend and his mother, because to Benji that choice is crystal clear. Again, they could really do with an honest conversation about this where Benji actually listens and tries to understand where Victor’s coming from, because right now, I think he just doesn’t quite get it. It’s clear that Isabel’s speech at Brasstown helped him to understand or at least start to, and obviously now that Isabel isn’t so much of an obstacle everything becomes a little easier, but it is still something that I really feel they need to discuss and understand about each other.
In conclusion:
Both of these boys need therapy (individual, family, and couples), and they would really benefit from a lot more open and honest communication where they both are able to speak honestly about their needs and desires as well as both being able to listen to and understand (or try to at least) one another.
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magioftheseas · 3 years ago
Text
A Smile In Fragments
Summary: When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream, maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry, or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.He got that in the worst possible way.
Rating: T+
Warnings: Suicide attempt which results in copious gore.
Notes: This is another old-ass wip that I finished up and posted, which means it was written pre-dr3. Back in the day, I was curious about Amnesiac Komaeda AUs set post-sdr2, so I tried my hand at it. This is what happened. Yeah. It’s, uh, pretty rusty but I guess I have some amount of fondness for it.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
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Just Komaeda smiling at him was enough to make him snap.
“What,” Hinata snarled, stalking forward as the boy in the sheets faltered. That damn smile wilted but Hinata only felt his anger flare burning hot before his eyes. “What the hell were you even thinking?”
Komaeda hesitated to answer and Hinata loomed over him, fists shaking at his sides and glare absolutely poisonous. That the other couldn’t dignify him with some self-righteous answer was even worse. “Do you even understand the shit you’re in right now? Did you honestly think pulling that stunt would make anything better? I was trying, alright? I was trying to help you only for you to just...”
He stopped, trembling with fury and unable to even say it as he shut his eyes. Komaeda made a noise. A familiar sound that has Hinata nearly lose his temper and commit an act he’d regret... But instead, he lets out a heavy sigh and gives Komaeda a look of disgust.
His look drops when he sees how Komaeda’s reacting—how he’d been reacting ever since Hinata started yelling at him.
Komaeda looks terrified—sincerely, purely scared in a way that Hinata had never seen before. He’s back against the wall, knees tucked between them like a barrier and arms pressed close against his chest. His body’s wracked with tremors, his eyes wide like a child’s, and Hinata’s anger utterly dissipates back into worry.
“Komaeda...?” he asks, voice softer with a bit of a waver. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m... I’m sorry...” Komaeda manages just as the nurse bursts in.
“Hinata-san,” she says and Hinata has to tear his sight away. He hears Komaeda stifle a sob, and the seriousness in the nurse’s eyes doesn’t stop him from flinching. “We need to talk.”
--
When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream—his plan failed after all, tremendously so because not only were they all still alive, but he was still alive as well...and the only person who really died was never living in the first place—or maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, but how likely was that—or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.
Instead, Komaeda shut down as soon as he woke up. He shut them out.
He was in poor condition upon waking and needed to be nursed, so it didn’t require much effort on his part. The rest of them avoided visiting him, too, except for Hinata who was desperate enough to want something...and maybe a little bit anxious because he remembered the last time they left Komaeda alone to his own devices. Not that it mattered, because even when Hinata tried to be polite, Komaeda seemed content to ignore his existence. Like he really was the Ultimate Nobody.
It made him angry enough to stop trying. But he still worried—that traitorous niggling feeling digging under his skin like a parasitic worm and aggravating him to the point where he felt like he was going to go insane. But there was nothing he could do, right, if Komaeda wasn’t going to acknowledge him—there was nothing he could do...
But, god, desperately and shakily pressing torn bits of fabric to Komaeda’s head in a frenzied attempt to stop the bleeding—if there was really nothing he could have done to prevent this...
“Don’t, please don’t die,” he begged, heart pounding. He already called Naegi in hysteria but Hinata was terrified at the bleak, real possibility that it’d be too late. Komaeda’s eyes were already fluttered shut and blood was still pulsing and slicking his trembling fingers. “Please, Komaeda, stay with me, stay with me... I-I can’t...”
It’s only by the time the others get there that Hinata realizes he’s been crying. He tries to wipe the tears away but ends up smearing Komaeda’s blood on his face instead. In seconds, he’s hyperventilating as Naegi takes his shoulders and murmurs to him: it’ll be fine don’t lose hope Komaeda-kun will be fine, you saved him Hinata-kun it’ll be fine...
In the end, Komaeda is saved. Hinata washes away his blood from his hands. And when Hinata hurries to go visit him, Komaeda turns and gives him a smile.
--
Komaeda smiled at him again when he entered. But this time the smile was tinier, more fearful—and the more Hinata thought about it, the more the smile from before seemed more for the sake of platitude. And yet he got angry.
This wasn’t the time to feel guilty over it. But he should...
“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I...” I wasn’t aware of your condition. But I say something like that, and he’ll know I meant it. The yelling part. I did mean it. But I wouldn’t have been like that if I knew... Does that even mean anything? Does apologizing mean anything? What am I supposed to...? “I’m sorry, Komaeda. Do you really not...”
“I forgive you.” Komaeda’s smile was still meek, but also a bit wider, and Hinata didn’t know if that was good or not. He shouldn’t get conceited when Komaeda still seemed so unsure and insecure. “From what I can tell, I think I’m at fault too... You did say you trying to help me, so... Ah, it’s fine. I just ended up startled, because...you know...”
It’s not like you would even know why I’d lose myself like that... You don’t even know who I am anymore... And it’s weird that he’d be so sheepish about it, too, because it’s not like Komaeda chose to conveniently get retrograde amnesia when he did. Hell, the amnesia thing was probably the furthest thing he was aiming for and that was...
Just fine. As far as Hinata was concerned, when things don’t go Komaeda’s way is preferable to otherwise. Komaeda’s way was twisted and distorted and could invariably lead to disaster. Hinata was aware of this from experience, though he was also aware he didn’t fully understand it. It was entirely possible he never would. Still... “Is there anything you want?”
“Huh?” Komaeda looked at him, his head at a bird-like tilt and wide doe eyes. “I’m...sorry? I don’t know if I can answer that question easily...especially when I’m not entirely sure if I can trust you. Yet, at least.” He looks almost apologetic and Hinata really doesn’t get that either. But finally, Komaeda’s looking a bit bright again, and it’s more of a relief than he cares to admit. “So the nurse did explain what’s wrong with me, right? Recently wrong, I mean. There were problems before... Ah, but I don’t know if you know about that so I’ll just stop here. Did she tell you or not?”
“You don’t remember,” Hinata states it bluntly, his throat thick as Komaeda nods in response. “You’ve experienced trauma that resulted in you losing your memories. You... You don’t remember me anymore, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Komaeda says, his smile sad. “Nor do I remember how I got here. But I’m not completely a blank slate if it means anything! I remember some things that happened to me before—like once, I had a dog? Ha-ha, something like that... There are still holes in the memories, sadly, but at least they’re still there. If it helps, I think one of the last things I remember is getting an acceptance letter.”
“An acceptance letter? For where...?” Hinata was already dreading the answer. Komaeda chewed on his lower lip with a soft hum.
“Some esteemed academy... But I don’t recall the name...”
“Was it Hope’s Peak?” Hinata’s stomach drops. “Y-You...don’t remember Hope’s Peak?”
“Was that the name of the school? That sounds about right.” Komaeda didn’t sound so sure despite his chipper tone. “Sorry, my memory stops there. But since I’ve been diligently explaining my delicate situation, perhaps you could fill me in a bit on the things I don’t know? It’d only be fair, after all...” He holds up his left wrist, tracing the bandages around the stump as he observes it in plain curiosity. “I’m not entirely sure how I got this. The nurses won’t tell me and to be frank, I highly doubt it was from the incident that resulted in my amnesia. It’s a bit healed over and... I think that acceptance letter was a while ago...before this. I’m not sure, but do you know?”
“I-I...” Hinata hesitates, blatantly. “I-I wasn’t there...when you lost it... S-Sorry...”
“So you don’t know? How disappointing.” Komaeda sighed. “Isn’t that so unfortunate? How am I supposed to write? My handwriting’s awful enough as it is and... Oh. Right. Your question. No, I don’t remember going to school at all. I just remember getting accepted.”
“Do you remember anything after that?” Hinata asks. “Like...your classmates? School assignments? F-Field trips?”
“Hm. Those are some generic questions. I get the feeling you’re hiding things from me...” But Komaeda grinned cheekily as Hinata froze for a moment. Komaeda laughed it off like it was no big deal. “Ah, it can’t be helped. But no, sorry. I barely remembered the school’s name after all. Oh, wait, I do remember being on a boat... Actually yeah. I was on some kind of boat.”
“Do you like boats? You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Hinata blinked hard to dispel the image, but Komaeda turned to him with realization clear in his gaze and face lighting up. “That’s right! You were there, weren’t you? You have the same eyes from earlier, though I see you cut your hair... Funny, didn’t you never want to see me again? You were quite cold, you know...from what I remember. What else were we discussing?”
“It’s not important,” Hinata says, voice quick and thick. “None of those things are important anymore. I didn’t mean anything I said back then. That... That’s not me anymore, so you mustn’t worry.”
“Oh...” Komaeda looks a bit disappointed, but still a bit hopeful. “Um. I don’t remember you introducing yourself...”
That’s because I didn’t. Not back then. I didn’t deem it important.
“What’s your name again?”
Hinata swallows. “Hi...Hinata. Hajime Hinata. I was...” Your classmate? But that’s not true, is it? I was never in that...
“My friend, right?” Komaeda asks, and Hinata’s chest seizes up for a moment. And Komaeda looks bashful too, rubbing at his shoulder with a light blush on his face. “I really am sorry... I must have worried you a lot to make you so angry... Though I don’t know how good my words are when like this. But really, I sincerely appreciate you caring so much. Especially since our first meeting didn’t go so well... But since you’ve changed, I guess... We’re friends now?”
You’ve got that wrong. I didn’t understand you. I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Even though you’re alive now, I feel like things have never been more complicated. I don’t know what we were, but it sure as hell was not...
“Or I’m wrong,” he hums, halting Hinata’s thoughts with a self-effacing sigh. “For all I know I could have just been a troublemaker you got saddled with. Isn’t that more likely?”
Hinata doesn’t answer, but Komaeda gives him another sincere smile that takes his breath away. “But I still like you, Hinata-kun. You must be a really kind person to worry so strongly over someone like me. I don’t have to remember our exact relationship to notice that; especially when you were so fired up earlier. I’ll try and do my best, so don’t fret so much, okay?”
I...I may never understand this person...
--
“I don’t want to go back.”
The words were simple, clear, and concise. And yet, they didn’t make any sense at all.
“Komaeda,” Hinata groaned, reaching for the other only for him to avoid his hand. Komaeda’s stare remained—those same wide doe eyes and lips pulled into a neutral straight line—but Hinata grew more agitated by the minute.
The wind blew, ocean waves crashing below, and when Hinata’s eyes drifted from Komaeda, they landed immediately on the edge of the cliff not too far behind the two. The idea appeared in his head and soon sank to his gut, and Hinata nearly begged as he attempted to grab Komaeda. “Come on...!”
“If you’re going to take me back,” Komaeda murmured, face unreadable as he continued to evade his swiping hand. “Then I have no choice.”
“Please, please don’t...”
“Hinata-kun.” It was the first time Komaeda had said his name in months, and it sounded raspy. Awful. Hinata hated the way Komaeda said his name. But he still missed it. And that just made it worse. “What do you think will happen? Good luck or bad luck? Make a prediction—just like you did the first time we met. Hopefully, you won’t be wrong like last time.”
Hinata shouted his name, fear breaking through his anger as he launched himself forward towards the other. He missed Komaeda by mere centimeters and he only saw a blur of white and blue before there was only the barren cliff before him.
Whatever shock he would have gone into was shattered when he heard the soft, muted impact from several feet below.
--
“Oh good morning, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda brightly greeted him, waving his good hand once he saw Hinata standing blankly in his doorway. Hinata wasn’t sure how he looked, and Komaeda gave no comments to it, but there was a slightly concerned way to how Komaeda tilted his head and smiled a bit more. “It’s a bit early... Is something wrong?”
“...Nightmare. I had a nightmare.” With those words out, he stumbled to get close, nearly tripping in his haste to reach out and grasp Komaeda’s still elevated hand. He squeezed it once, briefly, and pulled his hands back to wipe his clammy palms off his pants. “Sorry. I... I just had to make sure for a moment.”
“It’s fine...” Komaeda pulled his hand close, curling it against his chest. His worried smile remained on his face, and Hinata tried not to stare at the bandages wrapped around his head. There were scars there before, from previous hospital trips, and Hinata can only imagine how much worse they’d look now with where his head had bashed on a rock.
“Um... Hinata-kun?”
Hinata’s gaze snapped back.
“I’m sorry,” Komaeda spoke with such ease, and yet, so much regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I just... I feel like I should beg you for forgiveness.”
You should, but I won’t be happy when you’re like this. It’s...
It’s fine.
“Komaeda...”
Even if I won’t ever understand, even if we’re just back at square one again... Even so...
“I should’ve said this earlier,” Hinata said, forcing a smile. “Welcome back.”
Komaeda blinked at him, but he smiled once more. It actually wasn’t half-bad. It might’ve even been a little lovely.
I can keep trying a little while longer.
28 notes · View notes
zotlel · 4 years ago
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Fall Into You (M) - 01
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pairing: jaebeom x you 
genre: romance, angst, series, eventual smut
synopsis: Your love life has been filled with nothing but bad experiences. Determined to give up on the idea of finding the one you meet a man who is desperate to change your mind and have you see him as more.
word count: 5.0k
This was it, you thought. It was something you had feared for months, something you wanted so desperately to not be true. You felt empty, dead, barren, all the things you told yourself you would never be, yet here you were.
The thought had finally occurred to you as you felt your recent Tinder meetup thrust inside of you. His name was Xavier, a Spanish entrepreneur in his mid-20’s who just so happened to be in town testing a study group on his latest business venture. Yet the only thing this man had come close to doing all night was testing your patience. From his sleaze-ball attitude to the way he aggressively attempted to fuck you. Let’s just say you were grateful he couldn’t see your distasteful facial expression as he took you from behind. 
You were depleted of all emotions in this moment as the man attempted to make love to your empty womb. You didn’t even feel anger or sadness at this point, your body felt like some sort of abandoned amusement park. The rides and attractions were there for everyone to see, they were just void of life. You feared that eventually, a dead body would feel warm compared to yours. The fear for you was so real, so scary, to think that you were just some damaged goods.
You started to feel suffocated from the motel’s disgustingly tacky red satin bed sheets that your head was currently being shoved deeper and deeper into. So you decided to end this God-awful encounter early. Sitting your body up causes the poor Xavier to lose his rhythm effectively allowing you to overtake power and position his dumbfounded body beneath you. Luckily the man lasted about as long as you had the capacity for, he gripped your hips tightly, possibly leaving a bruise, causing you to at least enjoy one sensation that night. 
Once the man had finished he attempted to grab your naked form in one could only assume to be a cuddle, you had absolutely no capacity to even humor the idea. Feigning an early morning you quickly gathered your things and headed directly for the door, not so much as even pretending to want to see him ever again. 
The walk of shame. 3 AM, unknown neighborhoods, brisk weather, and a clearer state of mind all accompanied you on your walk home. You officially felt at a total loss with yourself. You had tried the relationship thing, the casual dating, and now here you were attempting one-night-stands, and yet nothing helped you feel complete.
“If only he could see me now,” you say quietly to no one in particular.
Morning light hits you like a bucket of cold water. Apparently in your self-loathing state last night you completely neglected to change out of your cocktail dress and close your blinds. You groan audibly pulling your plush pillow to cover your head from the obscene light. The damage had already been done, you were now officially awake and forced to begin your day.
Dragging yourself to your bathroom you start by turning the shower to the hottest temperature possible and begin to strip from your attire. The woman staring back at you in the mirror is one that you had unfortunately been well acquainted with recently. With the smudged raccoon eyes and red nose that had broken through last night’s foundation, she was an absolute mess.
You scrub and scrub your body under the hot water as if it were some kind of remedy for the way you felt inside. No matter how raw you made your skin you still couldn’t erase the emptiness you felt throughout your core.
That is enough, you think to yourself. Enough of this vile attitude that you had towards yourself. Did you really need to remind yourself daily about what an amazing life you had? A great job, amazing friends, and a beautiful apartment in which you shared rent with a great roommate. Had you really stooped low enough in your womanhood that you would consider yourself empty just because you lacked the place of a man? Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you now.
You had grown so tired of these men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close to you, their breaths thick with alcohol. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left you alone on Christmas. Men who slammed their bedroom doors, who made you love them then changed their minds. You decided you would no longer let this gender be oppressive, you were a warrior.
“Well someone got in late last night,” your roommate, Sofie, called to you over her morning coffee. You had just made your way down to the kitchen in need of caffeine to help break through your early morning fog.
“Please don’t remind me,” you say to her as you begin searching for a clean mug.
“What? Did you not like this guy? Was he not good in be-”
You cut her off promptly by slamming the cabinet door, yourself being surprised by your own actions you turn to face her. 
“I’m sorry I just really don’t feel like talking about it.”
Sofie nods her head in understanding instantly making a pool of guilt form in your stomach from the way you acted. This aggression was a new thing of yours that you had yet to get used to. Rage had begun to take a grip on your life, and on your friendships. You never wanted to be this way. It sickened you to imagine you would have ever become a person to hurt a close friend of yours because you couldn’t contain the fire that you felt inside.
“I’m really sorry Sofie I didn’t mean to snap it’s just-” your words stop as Sofie patiently waits. 
“Last night was hard because it made me realize,” you take a big breath, “I am broken.”
“Sweetie you are not broken! You have just been burned, badly might I add, and you are having a hard time coming to terms with it that’s all.”
Is that all? Could Sofie finally have cracked the code that all of this just so happened to stem from one incident? There was no way you could allow this to be true. You were not just a victim who gets to bear her scar for the rest of the world to see. Your story would not end like that.
“No Sofie, you don’t get it, when I say that I am broken I am really not looking for sympathy,” her back straightens at your serious expression. “I just mean that I am giving up on relationships, all kinds of relationships with men, for now.”
“So no more dating?” You shake your head to confirm. “No more hookups?”
“When I say no more. I mean it,” you say with an icy tone.
“I don’t think that is such a bad idea,” Sofie begins. “I think you may just need to take some time before you go out again, learn about yourself, love yourself. Y’know all that shit that Teen Vogue used to tell us.”
You laugh at this, your roommate was a sweet girl, older than you but innocent enough. You envied her star glazed eyes when she talked about love and romance. Her heart was so pure and untainted, you hoped that she would never change, you prayed that she would never know. 
“I think you may be right Sof.”
“Right about what?” 
In the most perfect of moments Sofie’s boyfriend, Jake, comes down the stairs to join in on your impromptu counseling session. Jake and Sofie were long-time boyfriend and girlfriend since your guys’ days in college. They were each other’s first everything's, love, relationship, they had even lost their virginities to one another. The first day the two of them had met during your study session you could see it happen, the sparks. And throughout the years you were able to watch their love bloom and unfold.
“Oh you know the usual, my life is fucked,” you joke responding to Jake’s question.
“What fucking men with no feelings is finally getting old?” Jake says.
“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh,” you respond back to him in which he just shrugs you off. 
Sometimes you wondered how a person as blunt as Jake managed to win over the tender-hearted Sofie. Jake reaches above Sofie’s head to grab his own mug for coffee while pressing a kiss to her forehead causing her face to flush with joy. Some couples just couldn’t be scrutinized, Jake and Sofie just worked.
“Hey, you’re still gonna come with us to Dominic’s New Year’s party on Friday, right?” Sofie asks you.
“That depends, will Dom stay far away from me for the entirety of the night?” you respond back.
“Oh come on, he’s really not all that bad!” Sofie says making your eyebrows go up in disbelief. “And if I recall correctly you hooked up with him a couple of months ago so you obviously don’t hate him that much.”
“First off, I was drunk,” you begin to feel yourself getting worked up. “Secondly, my heart was just broken, if you haven’t forgotten, so let’s just say my judgment was a little fucked.”
Sofie takes a long sip of her coffee and avoids eye-contact. You turn your body from her and breathe deeply from your nose in order to regain your composure.
“Okay, ladies let’s take it down a notch,” Jake effectively breaks the tension. “Y/N, I would love it if you came to celebrate with all of us. And I promise I will be keeping Dom busy so you don’t have to worry about him.”
“Fine, I’ve never been one to say no to free drinks anyways,” Sofie perks up at your response and excitedly hugs you causing you to smile.
Your workweek drags on leaving you anxious to get absolutely trashed at the upcoming party. You’ve had enough corporate bullshit to make certain that when Friday came no one would even be able to recognize that you played as a stock manager by day. One last sweep of your ruby red lipstick against your lips and your look is complete. Despite the bitter winter air you opted to show skin tonight in your tight black body-con dress. You knew that this look would attract lots of attention, but you didn’t care. You would relish in the way men would stare at you, and then doing something you have become unfamiliar with, you would deny each and every one of them. 
You, Jake, and Sofie all share the same Uber from your apartment to Dominic’s swanky new penthouse. The four of you had all met in college, each of you finding different paths in life yet always keeping in touch. Back then Dominic was a promising young student swiftly on his way to becoming an engineer. Until suddenly he decided to leave school and follow his true passion for cuisine. Now he was one of the most successful restaurant moguls in the city. 
His hard work truly paid off, you thought to yourself as the three of you entered his pristine penthouse suite already packed with people ready to celebrate the new year. The ceilings were high and the interior design was entirely bachelor-esque, true to his lavish lifestyle. Waiters attended to people throughout the room holding silver platters of champagne and the occasional finger-food. The scent in the air was lofty with alcohol and the various types of cologne worn by desperate men looking for a lay. 
“You guys made it!” 
Speak of the devil. Dominic makes his way through the crowd to greet his old friends. The four of you exchange hugs and hello’s but you were more than ready to end the interaction with him as quickly as possible. You look around the room until your eyes land on the small minibar across the living room.
“I need to be drunk,” you yell in Sofie’s ear causing her to giggle and excusing the two of you to the bar being worked by a dashing young bartender. It was a bit of a challenge to remember why exactly you weren’t going to be hooking up with anyone tonight. Until the young Colgate smirk shot you a knowing look. It all came rushing back, you fucking hated men.
Quickly you order a shot for both you and Sofie which she reluctantly agrees to, what a great friend, you think. The burn of tequila crawls its way to your stomach lighting a pleasant fire. You settle on champagne to sip on the rest of the night after taking the beverage from the bartender to promptly end his suffocating stare on you. 
“I’m gonna go find Jake, are you okay here?” Sofie asks you.
“Yes of course I’ll be fine as long as the bartender can keep it in his pants.”
Sofie laughs and hits your arm for speaking so loudly, but you truly didn’t care. You begin to move away from the bar towards the floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the city life below. Upon approaching you can’t help but ogle at the beautiful scenery. The life of the city could be seen even from fifty floors up. The hustle and bustle of people eager to celebrate the new year had mesmerized you along with the mass of skyscrapers glittering against the deep purple horizon.
Once you and Sofie had left to find the bar, Jake and Dominic were across the room talking of old times while Dominic showcased his new apartment. Jake could tell that Dominic was proud in the development of his empire, it was obvious in the way he had to mention price tags on every item in his home. Just when Dominic was about to go on and on about a particular piece of art a man whom Jake had not met before interrupts their conversation by placing a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.
“Jaebeom you made it!” Dominic says to the man while pulling him in for a hug. Dominic, as anyone could tell, had a bit too much to drink tonight, hence the sudden affection.
Jaebeom didn’t seem to mind Dominic, perhaps already familiar with this behavior, he pulls back from the brief embrace and gives Dominic a tight smile. Jaebeom had dark hair that was tucked neatly behind each ear. His ears were littered with silver jewelry while his nose also adorned a single stud. His eyes were set deep giving him a mysterious aura.
“Jaebeom this is my good buddy from college Jake,” Dominic introduces the two while both the men shake their hands in a greeting. “Jaebeom is a photographer, he did all the shots for my new restaurant.”
“No kidding, that’s really awesome man,” Jake says trying to make conversation with the stranger.
“Thanks for saying so, I really appreciate it,” Jaebeom says.
A silence fills the space before Dominic asks, “So did Claire come with you tonight?”
Claire, from what Jake had heard, was Dominic’s newest conquest. She was a hostess at one of Dominic’s restaurants and apparently good friends with Jaebeom. Jake found it odd that Dominic could not work up the courage himself to ask out a girl instead of having someone he hired to be his wingman.
“Unfortunately she wasn’t able to swing her shift,” Jaebeom tells Dominic to which he shrugs in an attempt to seem unaffected. Jaebeom then suddenly turns to Jake.
“I’m sorry if this comes off as too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice the girl you came in with earlier.”
Jake laughs, this wouldn’t be the first time that he had to break it to some poor bastard that Sofie was his girlfriend. She was absolutely gorgeous and he knows that his girlfriend Sofie does garner lots of attention. Not that he feels jealous, he just hates having to break it to these dudes that they stand no chance.
“That would be my girlfriend actually,” Jake says.
“Both of them?” Jaebeom raises his eyebrow quizzically causing Jake to facepalm at the way he is handling this interaction.
“Oh no sorry,” Jake searches the room to see Sofie and you leaning against the bar on the other side of the room. “My girlfriend is the one in the white dress over there by the bar.”
Jake points out the two of you and watches Jaebeom’s eyes follow.
“Oh I see, I was actually going to ask you about her friend.”
Jake sputters the champagne he is sipping feeling caught off guard at the question. If Jake remembers correctly you had completely sworn off men not too long ago. Then again, Jaebeom does look like a nice guy and seems genuinely interested in you. As your friend, Jake feels at a standstill with what to do. Although Jake was harsh in words when it came to you, he always had a soft spot for you. And he knows when you put your mind to something, you do not tolerate when people disregard you. But before Jake can say anything, Dominic beats him to the punch.
“Are you kidding? Y/N is practically fucking anyone that even looks her way these days.”
Now Jake remembers just why Dominic and you never got along. He was a complete asshole to you.
“Hey dude come on, don’t say that shit about her,” Jake comes to your defense.
Dominic raises his hands in surrender while wearing that typical shit-eating grin, “I just call it as I see it.”
Jake begins to become increasingly frustrated with the way that his best friend was being talked about, but he is even more afraid of your image being potentially slandered in front of a total stranger. And perhaps a potential match.
“You know better than anyone that she is going through a lot right now. Besides just the other day she said she had absolutely no interest in dating anymore,” Jake internally cringes at himself for potentially scaring Jaebeom away with that last point, but he really couldn’t let Dominic continue to trash you.
“Oh, Jesus don’t give me that. Ever since she got dumped she has been acting like a complete who-”
“Alright I think that’s enough,” surprisingly Jaebeom beats Jake in coming to your defense by putting an end to Dominic’s drunken rant. 
While listening to Dominic trash you and Jake attempting to defend you, Jaebeom was continually getting more and more upset. It was bad enough that Dominic has just shown himself to be a terrible friend, but now he was going to stoop as low as calling his friend such a derogatory term? 
He thought again about the girl that caught his attention. His eyes were on you the moment you walked through the door. Even with the masses of people in the penthouse, he felt like he was on another world with you, floating distantly away in a turquoise sea. To your beautiful skin, gorgeous locks of hair, and even just the way you carried yourself. Jaebeom had found himself completely enraptured with this complete stranger. And he was not going to let one of your supposed “friends” go on ruining your image.
“It’s not very cool to talk about someone like that when they’re not here to defend themselves. Especially to someone whom they have never even met,” Jaebeom told Dominic with a stern tone.
If Jake was impressed before by this man, his respect for Jaebeom increased even more. If only you were willing to put yourself out there again, he thinks Jaebeom might be a really good change for you. He clearly was a person who stood for what they believed in, and Jake knows how much a person like that could have such a great impact on you.
“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jake waves to Jaebeom too stunned to even say anything as he walks off.
“What the hell is his problem?” Dominic starts as Jaebeom leaves, “Does he think that Y/N will blow him with that bullshit Mr. Nice Guy act?”
“You are such a prick, you know that?” Dominic just shrugs off Jake taking a large gulp of his beer.
While roaming throughout the penthouse you would stop occasionally to scope out the room around you. The people, the music, even the drinks were just so mind numbingly dull to you. You thought to yourself either you were truly broken like you thought so earlier that week or you were perhaps just a narcissist. Neither of those options made you feel particularly good about yourself, but if you weren’t going to be the one to say it, who would?
“Are you enjoying yourself so far?”
Over the loud bass of the music somehow you were able to hear the question coming from the man who had just approached you. You turn towards him slightly startled. Only once you turned to the voice you felt your breath leave your lungs. He was handsome, no beyond that, you had seen handsome men before, fucked handsome men, he was something else. There was no word in the English language to describe his looks.
His cheeks were set high on his face along with his straight nose. The dark locks of hair that framed his face rested softly on his moonlit skin. The way he held your eyes with his stare had you almost in a panic until you remembered, you had lost all your patience for men. 
Still, there was no harm in just conversing, your drunken state thought.
“I’m going to have to say no to that one,” you reply back honestly while setting your empty champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. Had it not been for the few drinks you had already you would not have even spared this man a second glance, right?
“Can’t say I blame you,” the man says. “I am Jaebeom by the way.”
He flashes you a tender smile with his perfectly straightened teeth, you quickly tell him your own name hoping to God this conversation could die. Your resolve while standing next to Jaebeom was slowly dwindling. You need to leave his side. Continuing this conversation leads to dangerous territory that not you nor your heart was ready for.
“I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I need to find my friends, I haven’t seen them all night,” you inwardly cringe at your lame excuse. Yet Jaebeom seems completely unaffected, holding his arm out to his side to allow your departure. A man that doesn’t get angry when you deprive him of attention, that was new.
Somewhere amongst the sea of people Sofie appears at Jake’s side effectively easing the growing anger Jake felt towards Dominic’s drunken antics. 
“What were you two boys talking about,” Sofie says sweetly while looping her arm around Jake. Jake knows that if Sofie were to hear the things Dominic had been saying about her best friend, she would have an absolute fit. So he thought it best she didn’t know.
“Oh you know just guy talk,” Jake says smiling.
“My photographer has the hots for Y/N,” Dominic slurs while it takes everything in Jake not to strangle his friend.
“Your photographer? Who is that? I want to see what he looks like,” Sofie replies sounding interested, to which Dominic scans the room before landing his finger on Jaebeom talking with some other guests.
“What really? He is so perfect I have to go tell her,” Sofie tries to walk away until Jake pulls her back.
“Okay first of all, ouch, I am your boyfriend. How can you say a guy is perfect while I’m right here?” Sofie rolls her eyes but let’s Jake continue. “Secondly, wasn’t it just a couple days ago that she mentioned never wanting to date again?”
“Oh come on you know she doesn’t mean that, and besides that guy is so her type. The second she sees him she will forget her hatred of men altogether,” Sofie says.
Jake sighs but lets Sofie go over and tell you about your secret admirer. He didn't appreciate the way people took your words so lightly. Was he the only one listening to you for the past couple months to know that you needed time to heal? Then again Sofie was your closest friend and perhaps she knew what was best for you.
“Okay you are never going to believe this,” Sofie approaches you from behind as you finish off your third glass of champagne.
“Tell me quickly I can feel the alcohol beginning to fog my brain.”
“Literally the hottest guy here asked Jake and Dom about you, they say he is interested in you!”
Through your slightly buzzed state you can still feel the burst of annoyance come over you. You have to breathe deeply through your nose in order to not completely go off on your sweet enthusiastic friend. Did your words a couple days ago mean nothing to her?
“Sofie, like I told you, I am not at all interested,” you tell her causing her excitement to dwindle. “So you can pass along that message to this mystery man too.”
“Oh come on! At least let me show you who it is, you will just die,” Sofie says causing your eyes to roll.
You decide to play along, “Fine show me.”
Sofie excitedly turns both your bodies to the crowd of people, she scans for a minute until she finds the said man, excitedly pointing him out to you. Jaebeom was in the middle of a conversation. The man who was interested in you was him? The guy you completely blew off just moments ago? 
You could feel yourself start to become overwhelmed. First when you started to talk to Jaebeom you began to have these feelings that you had never felt before. The fact that you couldn’t identify them frustrated you and made you want to leave this party. Now come to find out the whole reason he approached you was because he was interested? For reasons unexplained you began to feel the anger turn in your stomach again.
Who did this guy think he was? Was he just someone who felt he was so charming that just a simple greeting would have you spreading your legs for him? You felt so angry with yourself for even faltering for a moment on the resolution you made with yourself. This just proved your theory that all men want the same things from you. How could you be so stupid to think differently? Your head was turning into a swirl of red, clouding your judgement, perhaps the cheap booze was stronger than you anticipated.
It wasn’t until Jaebeom turned his body towards you, locking his eyes on yours. You expected to see the smirk, the smirk that all the men wear on their faces when they just want their dick wet. Instead, he smiled. Not a forced smile, it was genuine, you could feel the warmth of it from across the room. His smile had you faltering. You’ve been with so many men these past few months that you thought you had them all figured out. So why was he so unpredictable? 
For this, the rage overcame you.
With all your might you are able to look away from him and down at the floor. Your chest felt tight, all the air around you had been sucked away as you struggled to get a grip on where you were. Breathing exercises were not going to help you at this point.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sofie looks down at your shaken figure.
“No, I’m not, I think I’m going to leave. I really don’t feel well,” you say as you begin to make your way through people not wanting to let anyone submit to your anger.
Sofie grabs your arm, “It’s almost midnight you can’t leave now!”
“Sofie please, I am being very serious right now. Let me go,” your tone is icy as Sofie draws her hand back in fear.
Taking the opportunity you start your journey towards the exit needing so desperately to get out of the sea of people. Your chest began to heave as you felt the world closing in on you. Tears prodded in your eyes as you clenched your fists. The crowd was suffocating, you felt like you were about to burst, until finally you made your way to the door. You hurried down the hallway to the elevator practically throwing a punch at the call button.
Jaebeom was across the room when he had seen the entire exchange. He noticed your change in expression and then proceeded to watch you suddenly turn to leave the party. Jaebeom had a hard time understanding why, but he felt worried for you. Suddenly he begins to weave in and out of the drunken mass as the countdown from ten begins to be shouted out. He sees only a glimpse of you as you finally slip your way out the front door.
He reaches the door, opening it to find there is no one in the hall, he looks down and sees the elevator doors slowly closing with you inside. He tries to make a run for it, what will he even say when he reaches you? He doesn’t care at this moment, all Jaebeom knows is that he doesn't want you to be alone. 
Running fast towards the titanium doors you look up and catch his eye. Tears can be seen falling down your flushed cheeks. Your eyes were wild and bright as you stared through Jaebeom, making his steps come to a halt. He was shaken by the look in your eyes, so much so that he lets the elevator doors stop him from reaching you.
FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR!
He hears the party happening behind him. The cheering and laughing as people celebrate with their friends and loved ones. Yet the noise is completely drawn out as Jaebeom thinks of you.
This girl he had only just met, yet he longed for so desperately so.
127 notes · View notes
lovevenji-endgame · 4 years ago
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I have to go on yet another rant because the more I think about s2 the more upset I am. I was so excited for this season and the way I feel about it now is so disappointing. I honestly don't know if I'm going to watch s3 because I don't trust the writers to not go for the full on drama factor and fuck shit up again.
I am so sick of all the Benji hate because not only did people turn on him so fucking fast, but people aren't seeing this from anyone's perspective except Victor's. (Don't get me started on how they are willing to see Rahim's though) People saying Benji was problematic from the beginning and pushing Victor to come out- just no. Benji was cool with waiting but Victor wanted to tell people so he was like "okay sweet, you got this" then Victor changed his mind so Benji had to be like "oh okay..take your time, do what you need to do" then Victor changed his mind AGAIN! Benji spent half the time trying to play catch-up with which way Victor was leaning. (Victor is valid for changing his mind, but can we not see how that would fuck up Benji?) He wanted to quit the team because they were dicks? Benji was like "uhh yeah fuck them!" then Victor, who never really communicated with Benji about his feelings about the situation, changed his mind again. So Benji apologized.
Isabel's impact on Benji? Can we talk about that? Because imagine being in love with someone and not being able to go to their house or interact with them in front of their parents because their parent doesn't approve and the parent refuses to acknowledge your existence. Benji just wanted Victor's mom to accept him and their relationship and when she had no problem being like "I love Rahim" of course Benji is going to be hurt? Victor did him dirty on that. I get Victor is a mama's boy, BUT how did he NOT see how that would affect Benji? The boy was bound to lose it at some point and after the emotional birthday night, it was like he hit his limit.
Victor and the whole AA thing really fucking annoys me. Why does Benji need to apologize for not telling victor about it? He wanted to tell him in his own time but his parents put him on blast ON HIS BIRTHDAY! I speak from experience when I say being a part of AA as a teenager is extremely difficult and embarrassing. It is something so personal that you wish you didn't really have to share with other people and to share it with someone you love is not an easy task. I get that Victor is hurt Benji didn't tell him, but again can we please see Benji's side of things?? That annoyed the shit outta me. Yes, Benji said some shit he shouldn't have, but his spot was just blown up in a big way and he was emotional about it. I'm so annoyed at Victor for that. And I'm annoyed at people not being understanding of that! AND he told Rahim? Victor, I love you but fuck you for that. Can we PLEASE get some Benji POV? We got everyone else's...
Oof..the Vahim thing..where to begin. The world has enough dumbass love triangles in the shows/movies, we did not need another one. This was a dumb move by the writers. I could go on for days about how much I hated this love triangle shit but I'll try and keep it brief. Not only did they throw this in at the end, they did it in the weirdest way possible. Benji and Victor were going through some shit and instead of showing them working through it and communicating or at the very least saying to each other "shit sucks right now, but this is worth it" they decide to throw in another dude. They had this perfect opportunity to make such a good Victor/Rahim friendship but now that has been tainted even if they do go in that direction in the end (which they won't). Victor was at one of his lowest and most vulnerable points, he repeatedly said he loved Benji and was heartbroken that he thinks Benji is going to break up with him and instead of having a supportive friend, we got this....ugh. Also, to everyone saying Rahim can understand the religious parents part so he can connect with with Victor in ways Benji can't, true for the most part....except Rahim's parents were cool with it whereas Benji's parents were NOT initially. Couples can have different interests and experiences and still work. They just need to COMMUNICATE.
If they have Victor choose Rahim either at the beginning of s3 or at the end...I just can't get with that. So shit gets hard and Victor bails because he spent one or two good days with a guy he just met? How does that make sense? If they have Victor choose Rahim in the end, I'm out. What was the point of all the build up for Venji? To throw it under the bus? I don't get it. I know writers love drama, but believe it or not it is possible to make a good and entertaining show with having stable couples. Can they fight? Sure, but they can also communicate. It's not boring to having a stable couple. They went the lazy route on this.
The writers opened the door for this fandom to become toxic and guess what...it happened. Based on fandom reaction to this season and how the LV social media team is handling things, I do not trust them for s3 tbh. I know that they will play this triangle out for the entire season or some shit. I also just want Venji endgame...fucking sue me.
Believe it or not..this was me keeping it brief hahahaha. I have no one to talk to about this so here is my stream of consciousness that no one cares about. Also...the chances of this making any sense are slim to none so if you got this far...god love ya!
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flowercrown-bard · 4 years ago
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I Scream a Truth, You Hear a Lie - bonus chapter
for @ban-aard  <3
read on AO3
previous
this takes place way before any of that fake-marriage nonsense. This is the real moment Geralt realised he was in love. So it can be read as a stand alone one shot
content warning: mention of animal death (falsely assumed by a character. No actual death)
“And who’s this lovely lady?“
Geralt rolled his eyes. “That‘s Roach.”
Jaskier snorted and put his hands on his hips. “Listen Geralt, I know that it’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, but I am fairly certain that I remember Roach being a lovely shade of brown and not grey.” Jaskier let a moment pass before he gasped, clutching his chest in that overly dramatic way of his. “Geralt! Are you cheating on her?”
“I lost my old Roach.”
Immediately, Jaskier’s playful demeanour dropped and his grin was replaced by a furrow of his brow.
“Oh,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Geralt, I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have made fun of it if I’d have known. I know you loved her.” He took a step closer in the way one would approach a wounded animal. “Are you alright?”
There was a brief moment of hesitation before Jaskier reached out to touch Geralt’s arm, just for a heartbeat, just long enough to make it clear that he was offering comfort, before pulling away again. It was strange, but after being apart from Jaskier for so long, it felt…nice. Geralt almost found himself wanting more of that touch. Which was a ridiculous thought, of course.
Before he could do something stupid and catch Jaskier’s hand mid-air, Geralt grunted and turned away, but something about the crestfallen expression on Jaskier’s face made him stop.
“She didn’t… she’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Geralt said awkwardly. There was something uncomfortable of having Jaskier’s eyes so intently on him. It made his heart beat harder against his ribs. Geralt found himself wanting more of it, but he turned away harshly, leading Roach over to a tree he could fasten her reins onto. It bought him enough time to get his heart back under control enough to go back to Jaskier.
“She’s not?” Jaskier’s eyes lit up as if he had just been announced winner of a bardic tournament. No, that wasn’t right. Geralt had seen him at such an event once and the look Jaskier had on his face now was so much brighter than it had been back then. It did something to Geralt’s chest that he couldn’t quite name, didn’t want to name. “But you said you lost her?”
Jaskier said it so tentatively, sounding almost as if he was truly concerned for Geralt or his horse.
Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes. “I lost her at Gwent.”
For a long moment Jaskier just stared at him, before he narrowed his eyes. “You’re shitting me. Geralt, you can’t joke about Roach like that.”
“It’s not a joke.”
“Come on. I watched you play and listened to you get all excited about all the strategies and tricks of playing Gwent for years and in all that time not once have I seen you lose a game.”
Geralt shifted and crossed his arms. He didn’t need to justify himself to Jaskier and there was no need for his stomach to twist in that way when Jaskier mentioned listening to Geralt. After all, it wasn’t as if Jaskier had ever complained about Geralt talking about Gwent. In fact, he had always seemed rather interested in what Geralt had to say and he had only ever seemed disappointed when Geralt realised that he was getting carried away and shut himself up.
Jaskier cocked his head. “Alright then. Who was this mysterious Gwent champion who defeated you?”
“Why do you need to know?” Geralt said, sounding perhaps a little more self-conscious than he wanted. He quickly tried to cover it up by adding more playfully, “About to write a sing about how I lost a game?”
“No,” Jaskier said, his face set in determination. “I am going to challenge that person to another round of Gwent and win Roach back for you.”
Something in Geralt’s chest stuttered and his mind was unable to form words. He could only stare at Jaskier.
“You really mean that, don’t you.”
“Of course,” Jaskier said without hesitation. “Roach is your friend. So, who is it? Who has Roach?”
It didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Jaskier to get so worked up over Geralt’s horse. The bard had never even gotten along with her, always complaining about her almost nipping his fingers or chewing on his expensive doublets. But thinking about it…despite all of his complains Jaskier had never stopped approaching her and trying to win her over with treats, silly songs about her beauty and the promise of scritches.
“Roach is with a farmer,” Geralt said slowly. “A retired one whose old fields are now over run with wild flowers and all that.” There really was no need to add that, but seeing a smile spreading across Jaskier’s lips and getting wider with each word made it impossible to stop himself. “The farmer’s son played me for Roach, saying his mother needed her to get to the market every once in a while. And that she could need a companion.”
A strange look passed over Jaskier’s face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable and yet it made Geralt want to look away. Or to keep looking until he understood.
“So…” Jaskier drew out the word, his eyes searching Geralt’s face. “Roach is on some old farm somewhere happily munching on some flowers and keeping an old lady company?”
Geralt hummed.
“Well then. Maybe…maybe I won’t challenge anyone to a game of Gwent anytime soon then.” Jaskier gave him a lopsided grin. “After all, how could I defeat someone even you lost to? Which I am sure didn’t happen because you were wilfully holding back.”
“Of course not,” Geralt growled, his weak pretence of being annoyed fooling no one, even if he weren’t already betrayed by the smile tugging at his lips.
“However, if you were willing, I would play a round of Gwent with you?” Jaskier said, fiddling with the hem of his doublet.
Geralt’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you actually want to play?”
“Since I have something I want out of it.”
“Oh?”
Jaskier raised his chin in a challenge. “If I win you are going to tell me everything you know about your new Roach so that I can already begin to befriend her?”
Geralt’s lips twitched and he pulled out his deck, shuffling it.
“And if I win?”
Jaskier heaved a heavy sigh. “If you win, I promise to grand you some blessed silence and not to sing at all until we reach the next town.”
Geralt smirked at that. He was almost tempted to make the game quick and brutal, just to watch Jaskier’s cocky smirk change into that pout he sometimes got. And a small part of Geralt didn’t want to tell Jaskier about how to bond with Roach.
It hadn’t exactly been a bad experience to watch Jaskier coo over his old Roach and do his best to get her to like him. If Geralt was being honest with himself, those evenings where Jaskier’s face lit up because Roach had let him stroke her mane were ones he had thought of often when he had found himself at Kaer Morhen and strangely enough missing the presence of the bard who had somehow wormed himself into Geralt’s life.
He would love to add more such moments to his memory, of Jaskier trying to gain his new Roach’s favour all on his own. But on the other hand, the way he looked at Geralt so hopefully now made his throat tighten. And for some reason Geralt couldn’t shake the thought that it was important that Roach and Jaskier got along. They had to, if they all were to travel together for the next couple of years.
The thought sent a strange pang through Geralt. The next couple of years.
He risked a glance at Jaskier who rolled his eyes and marched over to Roach, holding his hand out to her and watching with bated breath as the grey mare came closer and nuzzled into the touch.
Geralt couldn’t fight his smile when Jaskier turned back to him, a huge grin on his face. A sudden tightness in Geralt’s chest made it difficult to breath.
He didn’t want to lose that grin in a couple of years. He didn’t want to lose the shared laughs and the songs around the campfires at night. He didn’t want to walk the Path without knowing Jaskier would be there waiting for him at an inn with a worried look and the gentleness of his hands as he stitched him back together.
He wanted to keep all of it. Wanted to keep Jaskier.
How could he not want that, when for years Jaskier had been his best friend, the person whose ridiculous outfits and endless tirades about his bardic competitors made Geralt’s heart skip a beat. When Jaskier was the one Geralt –
Oh.
Geralt’s hands stilled and his heart clenched.
He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Jaskier who by now was throwing his head back laughing as Roach tried to eat his hair, his eyes twinkling in mirth.
Oh.
How could Geralt not have known before? How could he have ever been stubborn enough not to give a name to that feeling he got every time he saw Jaskier again after a long winter? Every time Jaskier accidentally bumped shoulders with him or gave him a smile when others only scowled at him?
Seeing Jaskier now, it was so easy, so obvious.
Jaskier was an idiot. He was ridiculous and loud and gods, Geralt loved him.
“Hey Geralt,” Jaskier called over, interrupting Geralt’s thoughts, though the shout couldn’t take away the warm feeling flooding Geralt. “Are you done shuffling your cards yet? I’d almost think you want to buy yourself some time until your second defeat.”
Jaskier gave him a wink and poked the tips of his tongue out.
Geralt froze, transfixed.
“I’m ready,” he said, hoping Jaskier didn’t notice how strangled he sounded.
-
Geralt lost the game.
He accepted Jaskier’s gloating and bragging with a roll of his eyes. When they were back on the road and Jaskier was composing a new song about how Geralt had been defeated by a bard, he allowed himself a smile.
How could he not? Geralt’s deliberate loss at a game was not a bad price to pay for seeing his love happy and maybe having him in his life just a little bit longer.
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jangpoo · 4 years ago
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I’ve been meaning to post on here in forever but like I just have had so much going on. But I’m starting to get into Daiya and anime again, so I want to talk about it.
It’s glaring to me that some people haven’t actually watched or played baseball before. And if they have, maybe there isn’t a great understanding of the nuances. And this isn’t me gate keeping or saying I’m better than anyone, but simply an observation based on what people say. But anyway I just want to talk about it.
Terajima does an EXTREMELY excellent job of portraying the sport. The issue I find with baseball is that it’s really fucking boring at times. There are so many times you watch a game and think, nothing is happening (and this can be true of any sport but I especially see it with baseball). However, I believe that many times, if you actually understand the sport or have experienced it before, you find a lot of the nuances come off the panel even better in this story.
I have seen so many people, especially on Reddit and Twitter talk about how this current game is going to be another “come from behind win” and “a cookie cutter version of what terajima always does.” My issue with this is how people are not talking about why this arc is by far the best representation of what baseball looks like and feels like at times and why people consider pitching duels to be the most exciting display of the sport. Sawamura has had this game coming for the past 10 years. All of this build up was for this moment.
From a writing standpoint and story standpoint, I understand it’s fucking FRUSTRATING to see how many times Sawamura has come into a game and done poorly or been given a handicap. Even his first game as an ace was so incredibly frustrating to read. You want him to win. You want him to succeed. Especially after seeing everything he has gone through. I’m tired of watching him come into a game, doing spectacularly but wondering, what would he have been like if he didn’t have the yips. Or what if he could actually hit? Or what if he was given the same opportunities as other players? There has been so much disappointment. So people wanted him to become the ace and suddenly have this outstanding game where he is dominant and amazing and just having an out of body experience. But the truth is, you don’t just get that. You don’t just start a game as an ace and have it go your way. And I hate that shit so much. But it’s the nuances. It’s the small things that makes Daiya so special and realistic.
The reason this whole arc has been so incredible is because we see an accumulation of EVERYONE buying into ace-Jun. First, before this game even begins, we see Miyuki FURIOUS that he couldn’t get Sawamura relaxed enough for the game. He’s angry that Sawamura feels strained enough to put the team on his back and overpitch. And he couldn’t get him out of it. He couldn’t help him the way he is supposed to as a catcher. We see Kuramochi understand that when Miyuki is gone, HE needs to step up. He needs to be the one that coach can rely on to help the team grow and thrive. He wants to be trusted to the team completely. And in this game, we FINALLY see the team get angry and frustrated at not backing Sawamura up. I mean, despite how they act, they never outwardly do that. They believe in him. They’re impressed with him time after time. But they never really back him up the same way we saw them do with Tanba and Furuya. It’s always like he provides some miracle, hypes up the team, but then is the butt of the jokes again. They quietly support him and work with him outside of games. But for the first time in this game, we get them buying in. We get them trusting him and working for him. Getting frustrated for him. And I believe Kanemaru’s “anticlimactic” at bat is the absolute most obvious display of that.
Some people call it anticlimactic but they just don’t get the point. I need us to think back to the very beginning of the story. Kanemaru absolutely could not stand Sawamura. He always said that all he did was talk and had nothing to show for it. But slowly and surely, Sawamura showed Kanemaru that he was dependable. He could be amazing. And little by little Kanemaru showed him more respect. Helped him with bullpen sessions. Helped him study. Cheered him on. He even, at one point, would become so distressed for Sawamura he’d make an error and feel terrible for it. Yet each time, Sawamura proved to him, it’s okay. I’m going to work my ass off. my hard work, your hard work, it won’t be for nothing. It will mean something. And so, in this moment, Sawamura is pulling this team by himself. That’s all he can do. The other pitcher is JUST as amazing. He’s just as talented and hard working. He can do what Sawamura does. And so the team fails time and time again. And like, let’s not pretend we’re the most frustrated in that situation. The team is livid. They can hit here and there but can’t connect. Can’t string together hits to score (which is how most pitchers duels go and is super realistic). And at the peak of this, when the captain cannot hit, Kanemaru comes up to bat with vengeance. He comes up to hit the shit out of the ball, no hesitation in his mind. He wants to kill it. But the part that borderline makes me want to sob, is that it’s not for himself. He wants to do it for Seido and he wants to do it for Sawamura. He wants him to know “I have your fucking back. I am going to hit the shit out of the ball. I’m going to score a run for our ace so it can put less pressure on him.” And that’s the mindset you want as a player. That’s what a good team does. And despite hitting a ground ball and getting out, it’s that effort. It’s the will of running as hard as you can down the line. Because yeah he got out, but who fucking noticed? Sawamura. He saw how hard he tried. He saw how hard he ran down the line. So yes, he didn’t score a run, but he did everything he could. And sometimes that’s good enough. Sometimes that’s what a pitcher really wants to see. So ofc Sawamura says “That hyped me up.” It was not failure. The feelings, the will and that connection came through. And Kanemaru understands immediately and says then let’s fucking go, let’s go out there stop them and hit again. It’s such a small moment and seemingly there to keep the score tied in the story, but the meaning there is absolutely what matters. Because yes, Sawamura is the only one in that moment that can turn the disappointment around, but what it also means is that Sawamura still believes. He tells wolf-boi, “I’m not worried. I believe in the hitters. We won’t go down without a fight” and he’s right. Because he can still believe the team hasn’t quit. Because someone like that, who wanted nothing to do with him at one point in time is working incredibly hard for him.
And it isn’t just there. We see it with Nori. He’s injured and we know how hard he’s worked to be starting games. We’ve seen his hardships and now he’s injured. But he believes. He trusts Sawamura. The team trusts Sawamura. They’re frustrated for him. They’re frustrated on his behalf. He’s bought in. And that is the beauty of a pitchers duel.
To be honest I’m flashy. I like high scoring games. But a show of true competition is always present in a pitchers duel. It’s 2 guys going head to head and the one that breaks first loses. It’s exciting and stressful. And I believe that many people are feeling that in this arc. And that’s why so many people are pissed, thinking this is just another show of the same shit. When Seido get past this, they’re going to Mei. It’s gonna be the same shit. We have progressed past a point where inconsistencies no longer are acceptable. You have to be on or you lose. The other team is just as good as you. And despite how well we want Sawamura to do, we also have to accept that he won’t always be unhittable. He will revert back to bad habits at times. But the Sawamura we’re getting this game? Absolute fucking monster level shit. (And our lord and savior Chris senpai is there to watch)
There are so many amazing moments that show how well Terajima understands baseball and truly loves it. From kids purposely throwing their futures away to finish out the season despite injuries, to having kids having long crises where they have to be demoted to lower strings to get out of the funk and the loneliness that goes with it, to kids fighting about the team and prioritizing winning over friendship. The frustration of the yips, losing games you were supposed to win, feeling like it’s your last chance to win before you graduate and never play again, having to move on with life. It’s all so well done and that’s why I’ll always love this manga. I love Haikyuus story other sports mangas and characterizations but Daiya will always hit different for me.
But anyway, that’s my dumbass ramblings that probably don’t translate well into written form. If you made it this far, why? Lol
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