#I've not only wasted my own time
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#i'm fucking tired and just need to rant#this fucking month has been the fucking worst and i'm done#i'm so fucking tired#not the metion the stress#I fucking hate this#this blog was inactive for like 9 years yet here I am cause I can't talk about this with other people#no one's gonna read this anyway#shit was off to a bumpy start but eventually I got there#everything was going great#I was actually happy with my results#was also super confident I was going to well#but life had to remind me that I don't deserve to be happy#so fuck me I guess#now I need to deal with fucking everyone on my ass telling me it's not a big deal#phone keeps correcting fucking to funding#I am going to scream#but yeah anyway#how do I politely tell everyone to fuck off and that I'm so fucking stressed the only way out I see is offing myself??#I'm so fucking useless lmao#I can't do this anymore#I've got no one who actually cares lmao#there's so much shit going on and can't fucking do this anymore#I WANT OUT#being an adult is the fucking worst thing I've ever done so yeah#should have just fucking ended it at 12#I've not only wasted my own time#wasted someone's else's precious time#and a shit-ton of money#so yeah#really wish my family could understand this situation
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finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using
#feels so selfish like. all this skin what am i saving it for?#open to design suggestions! (please make me regret this offer)#maybe some deep sea horrors. a pretty watercolor of a gulper eel#once saw a person on the subway with various Skeleton Tattoos on all their limbs#i respected their commitment to the theme#but more than that i respected how all the skeletons were engaged in Activities#dancing in a ballgown. juggling its own (and two other???) skulls. swordfighting. being a mermaid skeleton#ANYWAY. the only reason i haven't already gotten tattoos is i just couldn't be bothered#i'm old enough to know i don't have any strong-but-potentially-temporary feelings driving me towards it#aesthetically i prefer decorated to non-decorated surfaces. but i'm not artistic or thrilled with commitment#honestly it feels like sheer laziness. indecisiveness--nay. immaturity!--that i HAVEN'T gotten a tattoo yet#letting all this blank canvas go to waste. tut tut i need to grow up and be an adult and get a tattoo sleeve already.#really i've put off my responsibilities long enough#(in fairness i DID at one time have 18 different piercings)#(but i took most of them out bc they interfere with wearing headphones and/or shoving my face in my pillow during Sleep Time)#(i only kept the nape piercing bc oddly enough it ended up being the most convenient. and the least painful to get now i think about it.)#(neck piercing? no problem. normal pair of earrings? Tribulations And Suffering. i don't make the rules i just poke them with a stick.)
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🕸🎀˚.⁺⊹
#so i have an appt. to the psychiatric department for personality disorders tmrw...#and like i tried sending a self referral to them last year lmao#and they only said that heyyy you're doing amazing sweetie you are high functioning 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻#then i've ben to the health care center and since they think they cant treat me bc it's too severe they've sent referrals to other places#which have all declined me... so they also sent one to the psychiatric who sent a referral to this pd department#who that time also said that they can't accept me#so the therapist at the health care center like idk exactly but she sent a report on how they didnt handl my case properly#which made them call on me for an evalutation appt.#but i have 0 hopes. i honestly think the entire psych care is fucking lame and bullshit#i highly doubt they're even equipped to treat personality disorders#& even if they are theire budgetis getting cut bc ppl love having rightists ruling the government .... which means no funds for healthcare#anyway. PLUS it's a man.... -_- which reducuses my chances of being taken seriously even more...#i also hate talking to male therapists/psychiatrists... no fucking thanks. but i have to </3#i just really dont wanna go. like im gonna have to put energy into trying to argue for my right for treatment. w ppl who should inferstand#UNDERSTAND* i hate typing on my ipad ffs. they should understand my personality disorders..#bit health care proffessionals are horrible ppl and dont give a fuck abt their patients lol. so they're only condescending and rude 🤢🤮#i hate being in these environments bc everyone treats u like shit. the receptionists are so fkn rude and almost outright mean and insulting#the doctors and therapists and psychiatrists are all bullies who look down on u and make u feel small and worthless#so im really dreading it... but im also at my wit's end. i am missing out on my entire life. im desperate for help#even if i wholeheartedly believe that these worthless wastes of space wont give me any treatment i'll still need to go and try#then ig i'll just have to keep pestering the healthcare system. i might wventually even have to start going to the psych. ER so they put#that on my records and like idk. that costs money tho. plus from everyone i've heard from...#being at a psych ER esp when your situation isnt dire is awful and hell#my cousin who had been ther after a sui attempt had said that it 'scared him straight'#and that it was so terrible that he did everything to get back home as soon as possible and do whatever to never end up there again#so yuh... i'd rather not!#i was supposed to (my own decision) to write a list with ALL my symptoms and bring and be like LOOK MONGREL!!!#but since i suffer from avpd...... i havent. i procrastinated and now it's too late whoopsie. i'll just have to wing it fuckkkk 🥴#ofc it also has to be 8.45 .. so early in the morning for me im so mad ahhhhh i dont wanna go i am throwing up and screaming#but atp i'd have to pay $35 myself for not going so that will motivate me enough to force myself to go
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There's 2 problems with good stories that alter your brain.
you can't experience it new again
2. you now have better standards for media and you will suffer boredom because of it.
#especially true of minority stories#like I'm sorry I've seen media where#the character being this specific minority is unremovable from the story without altering it severely#but also the story around it is fucking excellent#Now 98% of american media is unwatchable#Videogames I was looking forward to look boring and flat#my ears are too sensitive to flawed singing now#movies feel like a time waste because I've seen 1 season only complete adaptations#so whoopsie guess I have to write my own entertainment now
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6 years ago today i joined the failboat discord server and effectively joined the community. contrary to what you may think i have no regrets
i think that's officially like. more than half the channel's existence. and about a third of my life. which is crazy to me. wish i could do more to celebrate but ig im just stuck here on tumblr for now
#failboat#genuinely this community is so important to me. probably wouldnt be the same guy i am now if not for the friends i made here#even if they dont seem to identify as much with the community as i still do. which is fine by me but im staying here lol#even if i did go down a different path i know im stuck here forever. even as an adult who may head up their own communities in the future#not even just the community though like. i probably get a lot of my sense of humor from boat's content#honestly the easiest way to make me laugh. or even cheer me up when life gets sour#my favorite way to waste time is to watch boat fuck around in video games live. literally the only streams i watch like 99% of the time#idk. i dont wanna get TOO sappy right now. i got other stuff to draw haha#just know that i've enjoyed all 6 years that i've spent in this corner of hell whether on discord or not <3
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Song of the Day: March 26
"Songs About Rain" by Gary Allan
#song of the day#you might think that this is the opposite of 'Groovy Little Summer Song' but nope! closer to same because (drumroll)#they are one of the very best categories of thing: Country Songs About Country Songs#I love them. I adore them#'Songs About Rain' is one of the strongest and best examples of type I have (also 'Cheatin Songs' by Midland. impeccable)#'and it sure ain't easin my pain / all these songs like / Rainy Night in Georgia / Kentucky Rain#Here Comes That Rainy Day Feelin Again / Blues Eyes Cryin in the Early Mornin Rain#they go on and on and there's no two the same / oh it would be easy to blame / all these songs about rain'#what a gift. what a delight. legitimately hard to sing this song in a mournful voice because it makes me so damn happy#anyway as you might glean from how this is posting at 3 pm my time: my sleep schedule is /fucked/#I did have part of the bad conversation with my boss on Monday (immediately followed by garden times#which so overtook me that I spoke only about the garden and good spring feeling in my song post. what a blessing the garden is)#but mostly what happened is I said 'hey it is technically possible for me to make this but it will not help it will not do anything useful'#and my boss said 'but you can make it' and I said 'yes but we shouldn't. it will be a waste of time' and she said 'make it by Thursday'#and I said 'I absolutely cannot make it by Thursday. if I finish instead this better thing I've already been working on--'#and she said 'no we don't care about that thing. make part of the useless thing. by Thursday morning'#and I said 'if I bring you part of the useless thing and part of the good thing and I directly compare them in front of you--'#and she said 'we'll look at whatever you have Thursday morning but it's the useless thing we care about'#so the meeting is scheduled and I'm going to plead for the life of my better thing and probably the best I'll get is permission to do both#which is. I mean the useless thing is going to be a time-waster for sure but at least it won't be actively detrimental to anything?#it'll be fine I'll make it be fine. the inherent problems of when your boss doesn't actually know what you do for them I guess :/#(also maybe. maybe if it comes down to it. maybe I'll just make the good thing for myself and use it to make my own life better#and someday maybe they'll ask for a project that works and then I'll be able to dramatically unveil it but either way I'll benefit from it#hmm maybe yeah)
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And for bad oversharing medical news the arrhythmia from december never went away but I thought maybe the throat infection was still there right so that could be a reason but then I went to a specialist and not only is it practically cured (just lingering a bit) but my lungs sound fine as well! which means! the shortness of breath is probably something wrong with the oxygen in the bloodstream and the slight chest tightness is also extremely worrying I could only make an appointment to get it checked next friday and that sounds like way too long
#I know it's morbid but the only thing I can think about is how fucking mad I am at my parents and how I wish I had someone else to take care#of my things and burial if I were to die#they don't know me#they would do everything against my wishes because they never cared to listen#and Especially I am mad at my dad cause when this started he was around and I was really scared and upset and nearly crying and I told him#that I was considering going to the hospital right there and then and then he didn't. fucking say anything or ask if I was okay#they'll never listen anything just registers as crazy fucking kid having a tantrum again let's give her space leave her out of sight#And I had to Yell at him to stop telling me not to go to the hospital the next day and I mean Yell and he still said they'd deny it#that I was making it up if I had just been on my fucking own I wouldn't have double guessed myself on it and gone to the wrong specialist#and wasted time and gotten to the point where it's not like debilitating pain but constantly aware that it's there and I can only like eat#heart healthy shit that I don't even like and wait and god I am so upset at them why so I have to be alone and yet still be so tied to them#why pretend to care when I've said time and time again they're still hurting me like nearly everytime we see each other#Okay nevermind I actually Need to distract myself now usually confronting feelings is my favorite#but my body is telling me that if I want to cry I have to deal with it physically feeling like there's a hole between my ribs so#I'll hold off on it#I'll be fine#god going to sleep has been the absolute worse#delete later
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I have like... two days (max) to come up with a new research question for my bachelor thesis. I HAVE TO officially register/sign up or whatever next week. that's the only way I'll be able to finish it + the oral examination part before my course stops existing at the end of February (my advisor basically assured me that the examination office wouldn't let me register after the end of October).
fuck, I was so motivated last month! I felt ready, I felt good about it, I was sure I'd be able to do it! and then that stupid fucking meeting with my advisor happened and now I feel more defeated and hopeless than ever before. I feel stupid. I feel like I can't possibly do this.
there's just nothing in my brain. it's empty. all knowledge from my entire time at uni (and school) has vanished. the last, oh I don't know, eight fucking years have just been too much. I really don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I'm able to. I don't know how to start over again.
#like I've gone from crisis to crisis#everything since my second semester in 2015 has been hell#like literally#I didn't learn much because I only had enough capacity to study for exams and not to actually remember any of it#and what little I did know I can't recall anymore#my brain is so useless now. I can't fucking think! I can't think about my thesis without wanting to die! I don't want to do this!#but if I don't. I won't get my degree. I'll have wasted so much money (not us levels of money but still a lot) and time and I'll have#nothing#I'll be fucked. I won't have a future. I'll be stuck staying at home and never having my own money. forever.#because there's no way I can do another degree. I can't do it. I can't.#I don't have work experience. I don't have any skills. I'm 31 and my body is a piece of shit and my brain is even worse#I couldn't even work as a cashier (I tried. it was bad.) or anything#I need this degree to have *any* chance of getting a job and I just.#yeah idk maybe that's why this is so goddamn overwhelming#personal
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someday i'd like to commission art of an oc
#hvaña#my ocs come and go my attachment is considerably less bec of how i wrote in my teen years#and im kinda scared that if i create an oc they wont like. be around for long u know? like i may have interest and talk#about them but also in a few weeks or months i could completely forget about them and that#feels like both a waste of the artist's time and my money. unless its not that serious and it doesnt matter and im overthinking it#but like. idk. i currently have only one (1) major oc that i've held onto for the last several months because#unlike my usual writing there's like... not variations or on a whim there's like a Story there it's unique to my own creative landscape#if that makes any sense at all. its not gauranteed i will keep them but they have the most longevity out of all my ocs for sure#also one of these days i think ill have to change the way i make them bec both purpose and source of creativity have changed.
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Okay, but this is a big deal to me and I'm going to angrily spiral off track here like a dump-truck off Rainbow Road, but support kids, siblings, friends, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, neighbors, strangers, whatever, who have an interest in an art form or craft. 'Support' is literally as easy as giving them a few minutes of your time to listen to them talk about it or to look at whatever art piece they want to show you, if it's being offered.
Doesn't matter if it doesn't make sense to you or if it's not part of your interests. Don't be the asshole (or one of the assholes) that teaches someone to apologize the second they build up momentum talking about their craft, the part of themselves and their abilities that they have carefully fed and nurtured by themselves for themselves. This is the same basic, human courtesy you'd want someone to show you in the opposite position, so fucking pay it forward.
If you are someone who wants to talk about your creation and your dreams and/or goals, whether it be finding your peace, getting your work out into the world or making an income from it, then baby, you do it. Creativity and art has told the history of the human race all over the world. It is important, it matters, and what you bring into the world has so much value because it's yours and it is all part of the human story. For every person that has told or made you feel otherwise, there's a rabid gang of other creatives that will fist-fight them for you in a dark DQ parking lot. Please keep creating (and/or sharing) at your own capacity.
I don't think many people realize how much they've been turned into a bunch of casually cynical jerks.
Someone may come to their parents and say "I want to write a book" and their parents will say "it's really hard to get published".
Someone might confide in their sibling and say "I want to sell my art on "x" platform" and that sibling will say "do you know how many people you'd be competing with? Do you know how many shops are even on that platform?"
I know a kid who once told his best friend "I think I wanna start a dnd podcast" and the friend was like "do you know what the word "oversaturation" means?"
Personally, I don't know why any of that matters? And even if it did, perhaps your response should be "Do it! Do it and see where it goes!"
#I've wanted to publish books since I was 12 - the asshole who raised me told me it wasn't important so why waste the paper#and now I hear that again every time I write#I told someone in my family when I was a teenager that I wanted to write/draw comics and they laughed at me and I always think about it#Telling yourself to do it anyway for yourself only gets so far when people in your own circle carelessly say negatively impactful things#that you can never scrub back out of your head#do. not. be. that. person.#and to anyone that argues that “well its just one person that said/did that to you” or “its not a big deal”#Considering that people are in something of a vulnerable state when they talk about their passions and/or share their creativity#and that these conversations and sharing tend to happen a lot around people they know and trust it IS a “big deal”#And sometimes “one person” is all it takes#art#writing#creative work#creativity
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venting
#turns out no one will hire you if you haven't had an apprenticeship. i feel so fucking lied to#and unprepared. the course wasn't a waste in the sense it told me i could do this as a job#so it was worth it for me. i just hate that it was organized poorly and my teacher basically told me i can start my own shop when i truly#cannot. i'm not prepared. i don't know enough. so i do need an apprenticeship.#the only way to get that is to befriend piercers and i can't go to them as a customer since i'm broke and don't heal right. so i can't get#pierced by them and i don't know how else to start befriending people#so now i'm looking into remote jobs again but it's so overwhelming.#it feels like every time i find a path that feels doable the door gets slammed in my face#i'm so fucking stressed and sad and distraught i have no idea how to handle this#i'd love a front of house position in a piercing studio to start with but those are also so fucking hard to find#and i'm still just learning the language so i'm not fluent enough i won't be the first pick of several people apply#it's so disheartening. every time i think i've found my way something comes up that i don't know how to get around.#shit would be so fucking easy if i wasn't sick i could find a job doing whatever while i figure this out#but i'm too sick. if i'm lucky my sick notes will be extended til the end of the year#but i have no idea what to do after that.#been thinking about going to the unemployment office and being like yo i'm autistic and have a dr's note saying i cannot do physical jobs#can you find me a remote one#but idk if that'll help either#i'm just. really lost. and really tired. and really discouraged.#genuinely just exhausted.
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I'm honestly pathetic enough to keep checking my email just to see if there are any new ao3 mails because every time a fic author replies to a silly lil comment I've left on their work, my brain goes "THIS IS GREAT. I'M GOING TO GET A GOOD GRADE IN COMMENTING ON FIC, SOMETHING THAT IS BOTH NORMAL TO WANT AND POSSIBLE TO ACHIEVE" and I seem to live in a perpetual state of craving such academic validation
#welcome to my diary#like yes i obviously also adore every email i get telling me i've got a new comment on one of my own fics#that's a given#but the thrill of getting a reply is different and something i've caught myself looking for multiple times a day recently#no one checks their email as vigorously as i do#i dont check my work email this vigorously#i don't check my messages anywhere as vigorously as i check my email for new ao3 post#i wish i could filter email notifications so that gmail would only alert me to emails from ao3#though that would be a waste of software development because honestly i'd just refresh the app every half an hour regardless#it's like when you (or at least i) were a teen and read over old text messages and chats and laugh at your own jokes#and feel thrilled about how they landed#except i do that for ao3 comments and replies#i need to get a grip i think#maybe if i write it down and send it to the world like this it will stop being true#that happens sometimes
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ohhh i'm so angry at the l2d tutorial that said "the more points your mesh has the better! :)" because not only is that Not True, but it just adds so fucking much unnecessary bulk lmao.
#my poor little shit brick can't handle all those points.#it doesn't MATTER because you use WARP DEFORMERS for EVERYTHING and the Warp Deformers Dont CARE about the meshes!!!!!#the warp deformers barely affect the meshes themselves!!!!! the meshes are just fucking. frames to put the art in.#the warp deformers use Their OWN meshes.#horrible horrible misinformation. i have so fucking much re-meshing to do. and so many parameters to fix.#especially awful for me. a man who has every single information processing issue.#if the blinking and the eye light wiggles weren't so good i would just start from scratch. there are a Few things i can probably salvage.#i'm so fucking irritated. i've wasted so much time dreading this project. only to find out that i've been doing it wrong the entire time.#the only thing saving me from falling into a pit of dispair is the fact that i've been drawing again.
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It really hurts when someone you've always supported and been happy for can never do the same for you and is spiteful and jealous and can't celebrate your wins
#Like... I was such a big help at her wedding#I've always helped her#I've been there through so many of her relationships#She's my fucking COUSIN we grew up together#Anyway I've always been happy for her#And like she's always put me down#When I was looking for my first IT job after searching for only 2 months she was like I should just take a job as a receptionist#And that I can't expect to work in my field#She told me that idk what the real world is#And now when my mom told her that we might have to go back to the office her response was it's about time#As if me working from home is hurting her in any kind of way or as if she knows how much i cna do in the office and at home#How mean and jealous can you be to want your family to waste 2+ hours of their life every day on commuting#I've always given her really thoughtful and quality presents#Especially since she bought a house and didn't have enough money to buy furnishings and light fixtures and stuff#So I'd get her stuff I knew she wanted#And like.... I'm so disappointed#I shouldn't be cause I know she's like this but it still hurts#She owns a fucking HOUSE#I own a dog#She has a boyfriend#I have a dog#Yeah sure she hates her job but so do i#Urgh why is she like this
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not 2 keep posting literally Only Vents (and like 1 normal thing once a day) but it's nights like these I reminisce about my abuser and wonder all that "what if"s
all the sui tw/cw tags r because of shit I wrote in the tags
#➳ valentin vents#and yes i am purposefully triggering memories by listening to my playlist of songs i had full blown panic attacks and mental breakdowns to#or would listen to while it manipulated and turned me into his own little puppet while i felt disgust and. so. unsatisfied.#i hate that you all know me as who i am now#i hate that this is the me you have to see#why couldn't you all have met the sweet immature aqua who made sex jokes and who's only worry was petty drama ?#why couldn't you guys have gotten attached to him ? he would have been a better friend and partner than this aqua .#this aqua cries xerself to bed every night even if things are theoretically fine and makes her life miserable for no reason#he's selfish and always demands more and more and then plays the victim about it#she shouldn't exist . this vessel should have died a year ago when it met the person — the monster — who ruined it .#the asshole who killed innocent sonia and left his body to be possessed by the worthless maryne#i should have done it . i should have gone and chugged all those pills instead of just cutting contact . maybe he would have felt remorse#maybe I'd have saved so much money and tears and not have wasted the time of those who got to know this current '' being ''#but I've always been too much of a pussy to do something like that#oh well#i guess I'll just have to wait until the universe decides it's my time since i guess . idk . dad would miss me a lot . maybe some irls woul#too ? and mom and grandma . yeah I'll . uh . not chug an entire bottle of whatever random pills i can find in my cabinet .#i still need to get married some day . and at the very least I'm not dying a virgin lmao#ugh angways aqua stfu time go cry in uur bed like uu always do stop telling people online how uu should have killed uurself a year ago n#sharing tmi about uur trauma !!!!#tw sui mention#tw sui ideation#tw sui vent#tw sui talk#cw sui mention#cw sui ideation#cw sui thoughts#yea
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I THINK YOUR LOVE WOULD BE TOO MUCH ; SATORU GOJO
summary; satoru knows that you’re worried about something. he just doesn’t know what.
word count; 4.1k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, sickening amounts of fluff, (that’s literally all. that’s it. thank you for your time), you’re both down horrendous, the ”something” reader is worried about is very very silly <333, mostly satoru’s pov!!
a/n; i love this man so fucking much my chest hurts so i dug up the sappiest wip i could find in my drafts <333 you can tell i completely lost the plot halfway through but just pretend that i didn’t ok. i dedicate this to gojo nation :3
satoru feels your stare prickle at the back of his neck.
he’s rummaging through the fridge, one hand on his hip, grabbing two cans of iced tea from the bottom compartment. peach for him, lime for you. his infinity is down, the pads of his fingers meeting chilled aluminum, condensation licking at his skin.
but the goosebumps that sensation causes is nothing compared to the ones he gets from this — your stare digging into the back of his head, your attention aimed directly at him. when he turns around, closing the fridge with a bump of his hipbone, you freeze. like a deer caught in headlights.
satoru grins.
”you checkin’ me out?”
”no,” you blurt. his smile only grows.
”aw…” he waltzes across the room, from the kitchen island to the living room, fuzzy socks against the floorboards. ”what’s up, then? something on your mind?”
with a clink, he puts the cans of tea down on the coffee table. you murmur out a breath of thanks, but make no move to reach for either of them.
now that he’s close enough to see you properly — he thinks to himself that you do look a little ill at ease. something in the crease between your brows, shying away from the eye contact he wants. something in the way your voice comes out somewhat strained.
”it’s nothing… i just —”
you stop. gaze fleeing from his own, slipping down to your lap. he thinks you look particularly small like this. curled up on his expensive couch, curling in on yourself; gnawing at your bottom lip.
”… i’m being dumb.”
satoru hums. tilting his head, taking you in — wasting no more than a mere moment before taking action.
you feel him plop down next to you, a shift in the weight bearing down on his couch. comforting. when you glance up, he’s smiling, patient and light. hand sneakily slipping between the cracks of your own, squeezing your palm, running his thumb over the ridges of your knuckle.
”wanna tell me about it?”
from behind the black layer of glass obscuring your frame, satoru watches you intently. watches your expression shift, drinking in the twitch of your brows, how the colour of your eyes flickers in the light. the way your soul sulks and sputters under the weight of his all-seeing gaze.
you part your lips. slowly, searching for the right words — only to close them again.
you try once more. hesitant.
all you can manage is a frustrated huff.
”it’s nothing, honestly,” you’re quick to backtrack, wincing inwardly. ”i've just… been thinking. i guess.”
a hum. his smile doesn’t waver. ”about what?”
you avert your gaze. biting your lip, again, turning away from him; resting your chin on the heel of your palm. avoiding his stare like it could turn you to stone. he barely picks up on the words you murmur, flowing out beneath your breath.
”i... can't tell you.”
satoru raises a brow.
a moment passes. two, three — the silence is telling. you can hear the discontentment in his voice, despite his attempts to mask it.
”why not?”
”i… haah.” you scoot away, just a little more, turning away so he can’t dissect your expression the way he’d like to. ”i just can’t, okay?”
silently, silently, he observes you. the little of you he can see, at the very least; fixating on the side of your face, your cheek, those fluttering eyelashes. as if it could tell him something. you can’t see the way his eyes narrow, behind his shades, black glass shielding you from the weight of his scrutiny.
satoru bites back a huff.
curiosity and impatience aside, he feels offended. thoroughly so. he doesn't like it when you shut him out, like this, when you don’t allow him to soothe you.
your relationship has been a slow one — steady, a kind of settling in he never thought he’d experience. calm waves lapping along the edges of smooth sand, washing away tiny pebbles and handfuls of sea glass; delicately coming closer. getting him used to the sensation before gently urging him to take a dip.
that’s the kind of love you share.
so it stings, a little, when you won’t let him return the favour. it stings in the same way his phantom scars itch on cold nights.
he knows opening up isn't easy. for you, for anyone, least of all for him — but he still finds himself feeling a little bit dejected. because he's supposed to be your safe space. the person you can trust with absolutely anything.
(if he can’t be that, for you, then what the hell is he even good for?)
he can’t help but feel the slightest tug of worry, too. seeing the tight line of your closed lips, that hardness of your expression. the unmistakable stress accumulating in the corners of your eyes.
but he doesn’t voice that worry. he simply gives your hand another squeeze, and smiles a little wider.
”try me.”
a sigh flows from your lips. ”you don't get it, satoru.”
your voice has a bite to it, now, just a little harsh. something akin to a soft hiss — defensiveness, he ultimately settles on. but why?
”it’s —” you muster up a glance his way, the slightest little peek, before turning away again. blurting out the words on the tip of your tongue. ”it’s so fucking embarrassing. you’ll laugh.”
satoru blinks.
”… huh?”
”you’ll laugh, and you'll tease me, and — ” he feels your hand slip from his own, muffling a groan as it covers your face. ”i’ll never live it down.”
you’re hiding, squirming, and satoru’s curiosity increases at an alarming rate. he leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, but you don’t let him.
now he’s nothing short of intrigued.
”i won't,” he says, simply. voice as clear as glass. you scoff into your hands.
”you will!”
”i promise you i won't laugh.”
”you always say that.” a sigh falls from your lips, deep and heavy, as your hands finally slip down to your lap. ”but you never mean it. you’ll laugh so much. i know you will.”
you bite down on your lip. he wants to cup your jaw and kiss you, mend the bruising with a swipe of his tongue — but he tactfully decides against it.
”it’s — it's so…” you trail off, fidgeting with your hands, nervously linking your fingers together. gazing down with a pout. ”so stupid.”
”baby…” his voice takes on a fond tone, tender and patient. everything he strives to be, when it comes to you; you and you alone. ”c’mon. you can tell me anything.”
with a sense of delicacy, he takes your hands into his bigger ones. tucking them into his palms, bringing them into his own lap — meeting your meek eyes.
”right?”
through the blue of his gaze, he watches you falter. watches your eyes soften, crumbling a little, as you silently weigh your options. you look flustered.
then you slowly part your lips.
”you’re gonna think i’m just joking, or whatever, but — but i mean it. i’m…” your throat bobs with a shallow gulp. ”i’m seriously worried.”
satoru nods. ”i’ll take you seriously.”
you look up. all you’re met with is a reassuring smile, familiar dimples, the slightest hint of a kind blue behind his shades.
and you finally give in.
”i… i think i might —”
shifting and squirming, your gaze flits from spot to spot, hands still intertwined with his own. you’re caged in, forced to face him, and it only adds to your nervosity. his eyes never leave your face.
”i think… i…”
your voice comes out sounding tiny. gaze stuck to the couch beneath you, as your lips form around the right syllables, and you finally blurt out out the words you've been trying to keep at bay —
”i think i love you too much.”
…
silence.
you still refuse to meet his gaze. a red hue crawls up your neck, spreading to the tips of your ears, heartbeat pounding under your ribs. the sentence spills out of your lips like an arrow; so rushed he barely deciphers it in time.
before the silence can swallow you whole, you continue. trying not to stammer, holding back an embarrassed wince. pouting softly, brows furrowed as your clammy hands twitch anxiously against his own. ”like... to the point where… it drives me a little insane.”
and then you wait. with bated breath, too embarrassed to look up, bottom lip tensing and softening between your teeth. dreading the explosive reaction he’ll undoubtedly give you.
… except it doesn’t come.
he’s not saying a word. nothing. the silence is so deafening you could cut it in half, lingering, festering in the air around you. all you hear is your own stupid, erratic little heartbeat — refusing to settle down.
a couple painful moments pass, before you physically can't take it anymore.
as slowly as you can muster, your gaze travels upwards — from his lap to his chest to his exposed collarbone, until his face finally enters your field of vision. you can’t resist the temptation.
(why is he being so quiet? satoru is never quiet.)
you meet his gaze. or what you think is his gaze, anyhow, because you can’t see the way his eyes are squeezed shut. what you do notice is the twitch of his lips, quivering ever so slightly, as if unsure of which direction to go — and you know one of satoru’s sharp teeth must be biting down hard to keep them in place. his shoulders are shaking, only barely, and he breathes out sharply through his nose; in a desperate attempt to keep his promise.
desperately struggling to maintain his composure.
he makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and all that effort goes down the drain. met with the sight of your flushed face, wide eyes, shining with embarrassment and disbelief.
like a stack of cards blown over by the wind, satoru’s poker face crumbles. he fails to bite back the wide grin that breaks out across his lips, showing off the white of his teeth, and a soft bout of fresh laughter flows from out his lips.
you gape at him.
then your brows furrow, harshly, and you choke on a scoff. with a start, you’re scrambling to stand up, tugging your hands away from his.
”see?” you hiss, almost tripping over your own two feet as you shoot up from the couch. ”i told you! you're laughing!”
(you sound so embarrassed he thinks he might cry.)
satoru gives up. laughter reverberating throughout his entire body, deep and loud, from the very bottom of his gut — enough to have him clutching at his sides. that only makes you flush deeper, glare harder, and all he can think is that he wants to kiss you silly.
”you promised!”
”i’m —” he chokes on a sharp wheeze, one hand reaching out to keep you from leaving. ”i’m sorry, baby, i —”
but he only ends up doubling over. sputtering with laughter, feeling the leather of the couch meet his cheek. you turn away sharply, and he pulls himself up again. ”wait — sweetheart —”
a fond chuckle rumbles through his chest, his long arms circling around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. caging you in. you struggle helplessly, trying desperately to break free, but it’s useless — he’s the strongest for a reason.
all you can do is writhe and grumble under your breath, inhaling a familiar scent of vanilla and musk. the fabric softener he uses puts your senses hopelessly at ease, but he’s still laughing — so you can’t help but kick and struggle seamlessly.
”let me go, satoru!”
said man chokes on another little laugh, shoulders shaking, tucking you so close he can feel the pitter patter of your heartbeat against his stomach. you’re so upset with him. but he can’t stop, can't reel it back in, and every weak punch to his chest and muffled protest just makes his composure feel more out of reach. he tried his best.
he really, really did.
he tried so hard not to laugh.
(”i think i love you too much.”)
god. just what is he supposed to do with you, huh?
”i’m sorry,” he grins, almost entirely out of breath. ”’m not doing it on purpose, you're just —”
a sudden fit of giggles.
"you're so cute.”
”satoru, it’s — not funny,” you whine, practically burning up. every single sound he makes buzzes in your ear. ”i’m serious. i —”
you squeeze your eyes shut. giving in, finally, allowing yourself to melt into his arms. limbs losing their feistiness. he delights in the sensation.
”you don't get it.”
it’s a whisper, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he hears it nonetheless. deep breaths, he reminds himself. it’s hard to take such an adorable confession seriously, but he tries. for whatever reason, you genuinely sound troubled.
”wait, so you —” he bites back an amused breath, but can’t hide the palpable smile in his voice. ”you love me… too much?”
a groan. you hide away, nuzzling further into his chest; your safe harbour.
”… i told you it was embarrassing.”
”it’s not,” he’s quick to console you. ”i’m just confused.” a big palm glides across the back of your head, smoothing down your tousled hair. he pats your head softly. ”i mean…”
a deep inhale. his heartbeat finally settles into a calm rhythm, slow and steady, lungs flooding with oxygen. he breathes out through his nose.
”is that really such a bad thing?”
”it is.” a frown finds its way onto your lips. your reply is instantaneous. ”i don’t think it’s normal. i’m just…”
satoru listens. patiently, feeling your fingers grip onto the edges of his shirt — comforting yourself with the soft fabric. then you sigh.
”i don’t know. i just can’t, like…” you grapple for the right word, moving your hands haphazardly, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. ”comprehend how much i love you.”
satoru bites back a smile.
(his heart flutters, flutters, flutters, like cherry blossoms on a windy spring morning.)
before he has the chance to, you part your lips again; speaking in a soft voice. resigned, he thinks. ”it’s just weird. it’s not exactly bad, but —”
you bite down on your lip.
”... it’s scary.”
a soft coo buzzes in your ear. satoru can’t help but pull you closer, closer still, smothering you in the warmth of his embrace. conveying what he knows will be too much for you to hear in words — what he knows he couldn’t convey in the language that you speak. you feel warm, still burning up a bit. like a little firefly.
he isn’t faring much better, though; a vague heat blooming under the skin of his nape. smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.
(what on earth did he do to deserve you?)
a firm jaw settles on the top of your head. satoru parts his glossy lips, voice flowing out somewhat breathlessly, affectionate as can be.
”don’t you think i feel exactly the same about you?”
his pulse trembles against you. when you strain your ears, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat, mingling with your own; still resounding in your ears.
”… i dunno.”
satoru’s hold around you tightens, ever so slightly. something in the way he cradles you, strong arms around your waist, a low hum accompanying the light squeeze of his limbs. he can’t see your face, from this angle, but his pupils still flicker downwards — hungry for a glimpse of your expression.
then he smiles.
”i’m terrified of you, y’know?”
you blink. once, then twice, eyelids fluttering. a moment of silence passes.
”… huh?”
”beyond terrified, actually,” his smile builds into a grin. ”i’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it. no one scares me more than you do.”
satoru pulls away, just a little, just enough to finally get a good look at you. your eyes are brimming with confusion. a large palm goes to cradle your cheek, and he tilts his head — inhaling a breath.
”i love you so much that it hurts.”
…
a soft chuckle slips from out his lips, when he catches your flustered, wide-eyed stare. sneaking a hand towards the small of your back, leaning in to press a kiss against the apple of your cheek.
”i adore you,” he whispers, smooth syllables melting into a purr. you stiffen under his touch. his fingertips trace the lines of your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, chaste and sweet as he nips at the sensitive skin. muttering under his breath. ”you have no idea.”
and you truly, truly don't. satoru doesn't think you even know the half of it.
you can’t possibly know what you mean to him — that your very presence makes him forget who he is, what he has to be, a weight on his shoulders he grew used to long ago. you can’t possibly know that just the feeling of your hand in his makes the distance between you feel so inconsequential.
you are the most precious thing in his life. he doesn't think you could ever understand the weight that sentiment carries — he wouldn't want you to.
and here you are, so awfully worried, because you're too in love with him. he still can't help but grin. you’re so sweet, so silly. the words make him feel as if his heart is crumbling.
”… i can't believe you’re real sometimes.”
something tender rests under the whisper. something frighteningly sincere. it makes you feel a little like you’ve been sliced open. it’s raw, it’s heavy and light and it’s love. it’s satoru — all his little inconsistencies, and the stability beneath it all.
and some part of you knows that he's telling the truth. that he understands your ridiculous little confession, your embarrassing worries. satoru understands.
that alone is enough to quell the turmoil in your chest.
(what he gives you is a love as boundless as the sky; one that covers everything you could ever be. unconditional.)
”so there’s no need to worry.”
he pulls back, lips leaving your skin. you still feel their warmth linger. his shades have slipped down, barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, and you can see the blue of his eyes. they’re shining like jewels, soft around the edges. consumed by love.
”there’s no way you could ever love me as much as i love you.”
gazing into his eyes, as if hypnotized by their glow, your own gleam with a mesmerizing shine. glazed over with something sweet and wonderful, something satoru wants to burn into his retinas so he never forgets it. he wishes he could wring it out of you and put it in his pocket — but it looks prettier behind your cornea.
he savours the moment, slowly, until it abruptly ends.
with a second of pause, your brows draw together, forming into an irritated furrow. lips tugging downwards into a frown. ”that’s not true.”
satoru blinks. still smiling.
”i love you way more,” you huff. petulant, almost, something soft and amused in your tone. he thinks the sound fits you more than anything; unburdened and stubborn.
(as charming as you are, though — this is one battle he refuses to lose.)
”nu-uh,” he pokes the tip of your nose, delighting in the soft flutter of your blinking eyelashes. ”i love you more. sorry, sweetie.”
a huff. ”you don't.”
”i do.”
”you don't."
this time, you're the one reaching out, the pad of your finger landing on the tip of satoru’s nose — teasingly trailing up to the bridge of it. his heartbeat stutters, but he feigns nonchalance, raising an unimpressed brow; eyes unknowingly gleaming with mirth.
and mischief.
you barely have time to react. one moment you're seated on satoru’s lap, the next you're looking up at him with your back against the couch. he towers over you, keeping your hands pinned above your head with a single palm.
a familiar chill runs down your spine.
”i do,” he grins, free hand reaching towards you. recognizing the danger of a situation you've been in more times than you can count, you try to squirm away — but you don't get very far.
satoru’s fingers ghost over your sides, and panic floods your wide eyes.
even though you know exactly what’s about to happen, a yelp still pushes past your lips when he begins to tickle you. mercilessly, fingers trailing over your most sensitive spots. all you can do is squirm, trying your damnedest to bite back the bout of laughter crawling up your throat —
but apparently neither of you are very good at that.
when the familiar cling of your laughter finally spills past your lips, flowing into satoru’s ears, his smile blooms into a grin. big and happy, childish in its innocence — not even attempting to hide his joy. his own giggles melt into your soft wheezes and desperate pleas, as you struggle to break free, straining against the firm hold he has on your wrists.
”i love you way, way, way more,” he continues to tease, halting his movement just enough to let you catch your breath. ”it’s not even close.”
even as giggles breathlessly spill from your lips, you manage a shake of your head. ”no, you —”
”wrong answer.”
he cuts you off with a smirk, and the torture starts anew. you can't get the words out, caught in your throat and muffled by a loud squeak, followed by forced laughter. satoru watches, in pure adoration, waiting for the moment you finally relent.
it doesn’t take long.
”f — fine, fine!”
he stills. eyes crinkled, shades barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to keep going. if only so he can hear your melodic giggles.
”can’t we —” you struggle to catch your breath, words stuck between bouts of leftover laughter. cheeks flushed and chest heaving. ”just call it a tie?”
satoru pauses. he drags it out, exaggerated, building up suspense. eyes narrowing playfully. ”hmmm…”
then he smiles. a soft, resigned little thing.
”alright, alright.” he leans forward, keeping you in place. ”that works, i guess.”
and then his lips meet yours. soft and glossy, tasting of cherries, a pleased sigh against your mouth. you’re still panting a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind — slow to pull away, with a drawn out mwah, grinning boyishly at your disheveled state. he lets your wrists go free.
an unimpressed look is all you give him, quick to melt into a soft chuckle.
”well, that’s that.” you push yourself up with your elbows, fixing your tousled hair. ”now we can forget this ever happened.”
satoru raises a brow.
”oh, i dunno about that,” he purrs, voice ripe with mischief. a teasing glint flashes in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you, and it’s enough to have your face heating up again. the sight makes him coo. ”you love me so much you can't comprehend it, huh?”
you blink. it takes a moment for your expression to shift, from bafflement to embarrassment — but he thinks it’s all worth it when it does. barely restraining the urge to kiss you again.
”satoru…”
a giggle leaves his lips. reaching a hand out, he pinches your cheek. ”you’re cute.”
with a roll of your eyes, you swat him away; unable to bite back a smile. “quit it.”
”aw.”
he looks so smug. you can’t help but want to bite back, somehow — so you muster up your most shit-eating grin, a distinctly teasing lilt coating your sugar-sweet voice.
”you love me so much that it hurts, huh?”
satoru blinks.
endearment blooms, in the depths of his cerulean eyes. he watches you carefully, awfully amused — thinking to himself that he must be rubbing off on you. what a scary thought.
”yeah,” he breathes, a sigh laced with sincerity. cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand, settling on the option he knows will fluster you most. ”i do.”
this time, you’re the one who blinks. once, twice, before letting out a groan — slumping against his broad frame. satoru chuckles, breathlessly, consumed by you; by every move you make. all six of his eyes aimed directly at you.
(if he gives you the sky, then what you give him is a love as steady as the ocean; one that’ll drown every bit of his sadness. entirely unyielding.)
”can’t you ever just let me win?” you mutter, breathing in his cologne and tugging at his shirt. pressed up against him, on his couch, safe and secure. right where you should be.
he noses at your neck, pressing a little kiss against your pulsepoint. a quiet, quiet offering at the altar of your soul. ”nope,” he hums, smiling cheekily.
”i love you too much for that.”
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