#let me know your reflections idk
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lassify · 1 year ago
Text
Is Twilight a good therapist?
[Spoilers for SxF Ch.77 if you haven't already read it!!]
I am a huge fan of seeing representation of what it's like to be in the therapy room, but there are always soooo many things that the media get wrong, and I really wanted to draw attention to Twilight's portrayal as a therapist. (This is coming from the POV of someone who works in a clinical setting in the UK/Scotland).
Before I get stuck in, I also want to make it clear that Psychiatrists and Psychologists are VERY different, and in this scene Twilight is very much acting as a Psychologist.
("What's the difference?" you may ask.
WELL:
It's easy. A Psychiatrist is trained as a medical doctor, specialising in mental disorders largely from a biology perspective, and they are qualified to prescribe drugs and medication.
A Psychologist on the other hand delivers talking therapies, and is trained to see mental health from multiple perspectives. Basically, exactly what we see Twilight doing in this scene!)
So, we have a spy who has received next to zero medical training and, as far as I can tell, has whizzed through textbooks in his spare time - no placements, no clinical training, no assessments or exams, no clinical supervisor to assist in reflection or case management.
So, how does he do?
Normalising responses to traumatic events ✅
Tumblr media
Mr Austin has done the brave thing and turned up looking for help, and Twilight/Dr Forger responds by putting his problems into context, and normalising the experience for him. We love to see it. This is SO important to trauma-informed working.
2. Providing reassurance and expectations for recovery ✅
Tumblr media
I love this even more because what Twilight is saying is true. Only 10% of people who experience a potentially traumatic event actually develop PTSD symptoms, and of those, 70% will recover within the year. Twilight is reiterating the message that acute trauma is absolutely recoverable.
3. Teaching and demonstrating coping skills ✅
Tumblr media
It's not enough for clinicians to simply tell their patients about coping skills, it is essential to demonstrate them too. Bringing the practice of coping skills into the therapy room is so important for helping the patient to build their skills, and to build the therapeutic alliance as well.
Here, Twilight is teaching a simple breathing technique, but I would also commend him for teaching other coping skills: grounding, distraction, progressive muscle relaxation, visualisation, and more - although all/most of these rely on breath control as a foundation.
4. Encouraging guided self-help and making medical reccommendations ✅✅
Tumblr media
Just trying a breathing exercise once does not make recovery easy. Twilight knows it's important to encourage patients to do this in their own time.
And, finally, we see him acting as a psychiatrist, and reccommending medication. (Although, let's temporarily ignore that as a spy he has NO TRAINING in psychopharmaceuticals).
5. Breaching confidentiality ❌ Confrontational approach ❌
Tumblr media
Oh, Twilight... You have fucked up. Big time. This is the biggest fuck up of the entire session.
It's his SECOND session with this patient, and not only does he take a confrontational approach (putting Mr Austin on the defensive, definitely not conducive to a good therapeutic relationship), but he has BREACHED CONFIDENTIALITY. Depending on severity this is A FIREABLE OFFENCE (even in the UK!).
6. Positioning oneself as the 'expert' ❌ Telling the patient to confront their abuser❌ Not taking into account patient's readiness for change ❌
Tumblr media
Oh HELL no. Absolutely not. Confronting fear is a delicate and lengthy process requiring many steps, and always checking in with the patient at every step of the way. It cannot go too fast.
The therapeutic relationship is an alliance, and it's important to empower the patient to make their own choices in therapy, especially if it's something that is a source of fear.
Not only that, but telling anyone to confront their abuser is straight up the worst advice ever. It's not safe.
6.5 Providing rationale and reassurance✅
Tumblr media
Okay, I'll concede on this point. Twilight's rationale is sound: in the 'Cycle of Anxiety', Avoidance is a key factor in maintaining one's fear of something, and it is a core criterion in PTSD. Learning how to face a fear is really important to PTSD recovery.
And it's good that Twilight attempts to reassure Mr Austin's concerns.
7. Giving unsolicited relationship advice ❌
Tumblr media
This is NOT your role, Twilight. You are outside the bounds of your job description. It's an admirable effort to connect with the patient, but, alas, not appropriate at this time.
8. Not taking risk into account ❌❌❌
Tumblr media
This is a BIG one. It is not normal for a person to be so afraid of their spouse to be showing all the typical symptoms of a fight-or-flight fear response (sweating, shaking, racing thoughts, muscle tension, pupil dilation, etc.), and Twilight is missing some pretty obvious cues to indicate that Mr Austin is in a clearly unsafe situation.
Tumblr media
HE IS LITERALLY TELLING YOU TO YOUR FACE!!
AND if its bad enough that Mr Austin can't even speak, that means his fear is bad enough to completely shut off his pre-frontal cortex (the centre of executive function, rational thought and decision making), which means that his fear is THAT bad. Add this up with the insomnia, chronic fatigue, frequent dissociation, irritability and mood swings, and suddenly it is bad enough to be considered a trauma response - and Twilight still doesn't question the source of this trauma.
Also, Twilight, you can afford to put the judgement aside. Please.
9. Facilitating an unsafe exercise ❌ Risking psychological safety ❌
Tumblr media
Here Twilight is attempting a basic exercise inspired by exposure therapy (which Twilight is NOT trained in because he is a spy). While it is a therapy that has a decent evidence base, you don't to therapy to a patient, you do it with them, i.e. it's a process that needs to have a clear goal with informed consent.
In this instance, Twilight didn't prepare Mr Austin for the exercise, and he ended up in an actual flashback with very high levels of emotional distress. Unsafe.
And, again, psychiatrists do not typically deliver talk therapy - that is the job of psychologists.
Tumblr media
Conclusion
Why did I make this thread?
I'm really happy that Endo put in the effort to illustrate a really interesting therapy session, bringing psychology and trauma into the forefront. These are sensitive topics and I applaud Endo for giving a really complex topic airtime, and doing the research into what a proper therapy session looks like - because, for all my criticisms here, it is a pretty decent represention of what therapy can look like. [Especially the good bits!]
I also think this scene/chapter alone does a great job of reducing the stigma of seeking help for mental illness. It's great to see in mainstream media, especially something as popular as Spy x Family, since Japan does have a high suicide rate and intense stigma for those suffering from mental illness.
However, I still felt the criticisms of Twilight's therapy session were important to voice.
We cannot forget that he is not a trained clinician. He is there to gather information on his patients and their families and connect him to the upper classes, which explains his confrontational approach and disregard to psychological safety.
As much as Twilight has truly absorbed the psychiatry textbooks and committed their content to memory, the effects of the lack of training is obvious, showing up as major errors in his clinical practice - some of which could get him fired in today's system.
TL;DR Twilight is a GREAT spy. But a therapist? Not your calling, my friend.
58 notes · View notes
hajihiko · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
💕
1K notes · View notes
wildstar25 · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
MiqoMarch Day 23 - Midnight
With their intended voyage into the void only a few days out, Arsay thought it the upmost importance that she steal her partner away to Kugane, that they might share one more fond memory together should things not turn out the way they plan in the thirteenth. It was as they crossed the very same bridge the miqo'te had once sat on together two years prior when Arsay gifted Y'shtola with a bracelet matching that of her own. A token of endearment which, Arsay confessed, she would have given to her fellow scion back then, had nerves not gotten the best of her. While their relationship has undoubtedly changed since the initial purchase of the jewellery, the sentiment remained the same. Y'shtola was someone who Arsay loved dearly and she will forever be grateful to have the seeker's life intertwined with her own. No matter where their free spirits took them, they would always hold each other in their hearts. A promise Y'shtola was more than willing to keep. She slipped the the string of beads around her wrist without a second thought. They were never to come off, not even when the two decided to delay their return to Radz-at-Han in favour of a private bath at the dead of night.
#miqomarch#miqomarch 2024#ffxiv#y'shtola rhul#y'shtola x wol#wolshtola#arsay nun lore#arshtola#thanks to nhaneh for the body mod#i had to do some insane fov to get the moon and them in the same shot so sorry for the distortion#forcing arshtola lore into this prompt since idk when Ill ever get around to gposing the actual scene#this is between 6.1 and 6.2!#endwalker patch spoilers#i had the idea that arsay bought the Dai-ryumyaku bracelets from a vendor between 4.3 n 4.4 when shtola is off to the doman enclave#and arsay is like hey wait you should let me show you around kugane on the way over!#a fun friend date that ends with shtola finally accepting she has a crush on arsay and its terminal#and arsay having a single moment where she starts reflecting on feelings & thinks maybe she missed hanging out w/shtola more than she shoul#only to quickly butt that idea out of her head and continue being super normal#arsay notices these matching bracelets with red and purple string and shes like oh they are so cute and they look like#they belong in a pair it would be so sad if they were ever split up unexpectedly#i know ill buy them and give one to shtola wouldnt that be fun!#so she does that and then cant bring herself to give yshtola the damn thing because she starts second guessing herself#so arsay stashes the bracelets away and she started wearing hers later under her glove#fast forward to two years later and arsay finds the other one in one of her bags#and now shes dating yshtola and they are about to go somewhere super dangerous#what better time to tell your gf how much they have always meant to you#and what better way to do it than with a gift and some words spoken from the heart?#it was a little unconventional since arsay didnt really have marriage on the mind but it was a proposal in a sense#WOL posting#Arsay Nun
64 notes · View notes
cryolyst · 4 months ago
Text
~
#they speak!#it's probably just the illness that's making me extra irritable but like.#roommate kept coming up to me this morning going oh did i wake you up? i'm sorry if i did. did i do that or no? i'm really sorry.#and i kept telling him to stop saying sorry because i didn't have the brain power to phrase#'you could've been more considerate of your volume but you also have the right to use the common space so it's whatever'#but he said it to me again before i went to my room just now and it's like. ok. shut up.#if you actually cared that much u would've just been quieter in the first place actually.#anyways. annoyed. there were some annoying customers in the store today but it was whatever.#i feel like my fucks to give had already worn out with all the ppl in my social circle/my parents and the recent ongoings of that#[redacted] was being passive aggressive to me in the group chat and it's like. ok! idk what u want from me.#and i'm grateful for them for coming over and helping me with cleaning last week#and it's those sorts of actions that let me know they care and want good things for me#but like. i haaaate telling them anything because even innocuous non-private things get turned into judgement with them.#also. more and more i can feel how i'm drifting away from h and now with retrospect i can see how we mutually hurt each other :)#i keep coming back to this one period where i really wanted to take them to try dimsum and they kept saying they were too scared to try it#and in their new friend group they regularly go out n get dimsum together. which on the surface is like. why didn't you want to go with /me#i told you i wanted to share what i liked and i would explain what things were and i could do the talking and you still said no#but it's also very much a reflection of how i always rolled over and enabled them. i never challenged them. i was always passive.#i also feel like i'm heavily neglecting e and a recently and i can tell how the physical distance is affecting us and idk. it's weird.#anyways. another post that should've been a journal entry! lol!#when [redacted] helped with cleaning they also buried my journal under my like#300 packets of sesame candies and i can't be bothered to dig it out. also my bandaids are missing now. <3#ik this also sounds passive aggressive but genuinely appreciate the help i just kinda hate how they think hidin everything in boxes is good#'we need to get you some more storage boxes and containers!!' actually i think that will be the opposite of helpful.#i need everything visible and on open surfaces so i can 1) remember they exist for me to use and 2) not have barriers for me to get to them
8 notes · View notes
themanwhowouldbefruit · 7 months ago
Text
my doctor was sooooo fucking worthless and unhelpful im going to masturbate and i hope it fucking kills me
#“no need for follow up”#“yeah you did have several cysts we scrapped off your remaining ovary but. dw about it. idk why they were there. dw about it. oh also your#ovary on that side was freakishly huge but. dw about it. it might go away. dw about it#*doctor shrug emoji* “#“go see a gyno next year maybe. but not me im too important for that. go find and onboard a gyno to your situation. next year maybe idk lol”#he barely even looked at my incision like#this fucking appointment could have been an email. or a phone call. or they just could have let me start driving again. also i forgot to ask#if i can stop drinking ensure now or after the 6 weeks? cause that shit cost $$$$. but he probably would have been super unhelpful if i had#fr fr this guy only wanted to give me the time of day when he thought i might have fun cancer inside and now he's like gtfo!!!! get your#fugly cancerless ass out of here!!!! recover from a major surgery on your own you swagless cancerless loser 🤣 we arent helping your#swagless ass!!!#anyway it seems weird and fucked up that im was never offered to see a physical therapist and i guess am going to have to blindly trust my#abs they sliced thru are healing or whatever and to rawdog my own physical recovery of my muscles? even just dumb shit like. my center of#gravity has drastically changed since the mass removal and my back hurts like shit all the time because all my posture muscles were built up#for when i had an extra 30 pounds of cyst hanging in the front and my posture and walking reflected that. and i lowkey don't know how#hard i am able to be with my healing incision because its really tight and makes me hunch forwards still. like i would really like to know#how much i can safely or maybe should be forcing my skin and incision to stretch. without damage? is that crazy#am i crazy???#this shit is why i didnt see a doctor for 2 years until my problems had snowballed into a 30 pounds ovarian cyst that was crushing my other#organs and had one of my kidneys all backed up with piss. and even getting emergency treatment for it everyone was like. how did you like it#get this bad?? how could you not know you needed to seek medical treatment???? like. bro. seeking medical treatment isnt even a guarantee to#get medical treatment.#anyway he said my “remaining ovary seemed low key polycystic but dw about it. don't quote me on that im not dealing with it.”#bro i dont want to doctor google it i wanted an actual doctor to deal with it. fuck you.#like. maybe even a doctor who knows my situation so i dont have to struggle with getting someone to believe me and take me seriously.#but whatever. back to trying to figure out the daily protein and extra calories my body needs for recovery via doctor google i guess.#its fine 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬
11 notes · View notes
hearts401 · 2 hours ago
Text
shoutout to cassel and lila for SUCKING!!!!! I HATE THEM!!!!!!!!!
#tzu rambles#god i could go on about why theyre terrible for each other in all the ways that make htem end up together#they feed into each others worst habits.#lila liking power over others and cassel being used to ppl taking advantage of him#ive seen ppl who dumb it down to “he likes to be dominated” or whatever#i mean you do you but its pretty clear that its a result of the way his brothers have always treated him#wait yeah he listerally compares them to each other#“i was used to fast anc cruel brothers. and i worshipped her” AUGH#she reminds him of everything hes ever known#and she likes him because he listens to her when nobody else does#and she kind of takes advantage of that and he knows she does#he lets her anyways#its so bad its so good#and like anton is just like philip and barron if not worse#but hes lila's COUSIN. so its different#bc he's more guest than family#and so she doesn't develop the habits cassel does. cassel was born into this#HES the guest#but to lila anton is some guy coming and messing with her friend#so she wants to stand her ground#and that reflects in how they are#i think its interesting that even in rejecting his brothers he still just follows lila around#still on the first book though so we'll see what he does#they make me crazy!!!!!! augh#also his relationship w his mom probably affects this too#like. u have ur mother toying with your emotions to get you to do what she wants. idk ofc ur gonna be a little strange about ppl making+#you do things#also how lila sees herself as older than she is and i think cassel thinks of her thkat way too sometimes#they just suck i hate them
3 notes · View notes
colinhugh3s · 2 years ago
Text
for the past three seasons ted has never once been truly left alone and to his own devices. he's had beard having his back, henry on video call, rebecca calling to check up, even mae at the pub to check in. but this ep he was truly alone for the first time. in a strange city with so many unfamiliar yet familiar things: painted sunflowers, an american bar where nobody is actually american. him coming to the conclusion that he came to had nothing to do with any dud hallucinogens, but with the fact that he was alone, truly alone, and he found so much strength in that.
31 notes · View notes
aroacedavestrider · 2 years ago
Text
while im thinking about it why are people so weird about acne scars. like i get the concern surrounding like. an open scab getting infected or something? but idk all anyone ever says to me when im picking is “stop it youre gonna get scars. do you really want to be all splotchy” like why is that everyones go-to issue surrounding skin picking. fuck if im splotchy. who give a shit
44 notes · View notes
her-canine-teeth · 8 months ago
Text
isobel by flower face
2 notes · View notes
munadyke · 1 year ago
Text
erm. hashtag oversharing moment.
3 notes · View notes
cryptidapprentice · 2 years ago
Text
im trying dating apps and like,,, idk how to explain that i feel a certain sense of.. immaturity???? compared to the other people in my age range??? like i think maybe it comes from the neurodivergence but like ill look at the profiles of ppl who are my age or like a year or two older or younger and i cant help but feel like we are Not The Same.
5 notes · View notes
lokilysolbitch · 3 months ago
Text
accidentally proved my own point by reaching the tag limit so i'm finishing what i was saying here✋😭just uhhh pretend this is a really long tag up here
my POINT basically is spirituality and religion if used well will lead you to self reflect. and ideally be kind. it's spirituality. you can't see that shit, you can't prove a lot of it scientifically, everyone is gonna see the same thing differently, etc. it's floaty and fluid like gender. you cannot sit down and study it in a nice neat scientific way to prove if it's real or not and you cannot force it into boxes and say it's wrong when it stops fitting in the box it was never going to fit in. you can't reliably test if astrology or Loki or tarot or psychics are real or not. but that doesn't fucking matter anyway/nm
what matters is did it make you feel better? did it make you learn? did it make you change? did it make you kind? (and these questions are applicable to gender as well, and most things ever) that's testable
me personally my autistic brain eats this shit up like candy and looking at my chart has taught me how to better work with myself and my habits AND has given me an understanding of people who think differently than me. so i will keep doing it
if it makes you judge people for being born in the wrong month or judge people in general uhhh then maybe quit that idk✋‼️
by god i love yappin
Astrology doesn't seem to work.
#interrupting my lurking session to say things bc this is one of my special interest#i understand like maybe 15% of basic chart astrology#but my current stance on it (subject to change) is#there's different types of astrology#that people like#like there's tropical which is the one you hear about most chart included#sidereal which is the same signs and planets i believe but shifted a little#bc to my understanding someone somewhere was like 'but the stars n such are not gonna be in the same place August 9th 2024 as they were in#idk august 9 304AD#bc wibbly wobbly timy wimey#so like in tropical you could be a different sun sign or rising than in sidereal#and people relate to one chart or the other more#i currently prefer sidereal bc tropical was like 50% right and sidereal is at least 70% right with REALLY specific correct details#there's also vedic astrology which i know much much less about#and there's probably more#there's planets and asteroids that people read differently or not at all as well#like the lilith one#so basically there's so many versions that work differently for different people#so you can find what works for you bc ultimately#its. for u. to use to reflect on#and not to judge people with. bc even if it's fully correct#there's so many ways signs and houses and such can manifest#and your biases will always affect how you interpret it#it doesn't matter if it actually works or if you read it right bc when you read it you are literally forced to introspect and think#'do i act like this? has this happened to me? is there a way i'm like this that i didn't realize before? what's a different way of#interpreting this thing about myself? what stereotypes do i hold about this trait that could be seen in a different light?'#etc etc#like i have a gemini stellium (i have a lot of gemini energy basically)#am i talkative in person? FUCK no. im a recluse. but i have to reflect now to see in what ways i could be talkative#and what do you know. let my type and i Do Not Shut The Fuck Up
60K notes · View notes
bluastro-yellow · 9 months ago
Text
I want the marketing and advertisement industry to explode now
1 note · View note
weirdly-specific-but-ok · 10 months ago
Text
Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)
i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*
Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:
Everything everywhere is queer all at once
Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other
The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.
Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.
God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.
There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me
They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.
Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.
The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.
Terry Pratchett is not fictional.
He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.
They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.
At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.
Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.
During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.
Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.
It's all very queer, just like the fandom.
Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.
They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.
Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.
Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'
It's all ineffably queer my good fellows
Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.
There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.
The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.
There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.
There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.
Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.
The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.
Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.
Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.
Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.
Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.
4K notes · View notes
seiwas · 8 months ago
Text
i maxxed the tags (what did i expect) but!!
what a soft piece ari 🥺 thank you for sharing this hurt/comfort piece w us!! i think satoru will always be a figure of strength—but i think it’s in part because that’s how he brands himself to be around the people he cares about. he’ll never truly share how he thinks and feels about things, will almost always downplay it really. but he’s always worrying, always aware and cautious, overthinking 🥺 and i felt that loads here!!
there’s a shipwreck stuck between your ribs ; satoru gojo
synopsis; three times satoru sees you cry, and the understanding you gain of each other from it.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, the synopsis speaks for itself i think, copious amounts of hurt/comfort, i just think he’d be so good at comforting u :ccc, also fluff!!, he’s addicted to calling u ”baby,” satoru gojo vs human emotion (he loses)
a/n; pls ignore the fact that 90% of my gojo fics are hurt/comfort ok we dont need to get into that <33 the writing in this one might be a lil rusty but im pretty fond of this gojo :’3
Tumblr media
dim lights, buttery popcorn, and boredom.
the senses invading his mind are mellow, coaxing, a little tedious. all he can see are the buzzing lights before him, all he can hear is the insistent chewing of the people around him, and all he can feel is just that:
boredom.
satoru stifles a yawn, resting his cheek on the heel of his palm. he’s trying to pay attention — really, he is. trying to pay attention to the movie he picked out himself, after thoughtful consideration, one he’s been looking forward to watching with you all week. he’s trying his best. but, gosh, it’s just so boring.
or maybe he just doesn’t have it in him today — with all these too-dim lights, too-loud popcorn-chewers, and the too-convoluted plot playing on the big screen in front of him. he has no idea what’s happening, anymore, what scene this is supposed to be. some sob-story? he clocked out a while ago.
so, with nothing better to do — satoru decides to savour another view.
that’s how it always goes. no matter the movie, no matter the snacks, whether you’re watching at home on the couch or a nearby movie theatre — eventually, when his eyelids begin to grow heavy, or when his attention span begins to falter, that blue-soaked gaze of his shifts. a moth to a flame, following his instincts. constantly looking over to see what kind of face you're making. 
after all, your reactions are far more entertaining than any movie could ever hope to be. little sighs of exasperation, jolts and shivers down your spine, or a laughter so bubbly he can’t resist leaning in for a kiss or ten — he loves it. adores it. lives and dies by it. 
so satoru turns his head, and looks at you, knowing you’ll save him from the boredom clutching at his subconscious. 
and something in his chest constricts.
at first, he doesn’t notice it. hungrily lapping over the expanse of your jaw, to your cheekbones, his gaze drinking in everything he can see. scanning your eyes for a hint of emotion; and he finds it. he finds it in something that glimmers in the dim lighting of the theatre, something that has his breath drawing back to the depths of his throat.
tears.
crystalline, dew-drawn, a fresh set of tears clinging to the edge of your lash line. they’ve yet to fall, but satoru sees them — he sees them and he doesn’t know what to do. 
tears. 
tears?
you’re crying.
in the depths of your glassy eyes, he sees a fractured scene — playing against the scope of your iris, as the movie reflects off your pupils. there’s a turmoil there, a sadness, one that has you covering your mouth with the front of your knuckle. and you’re crying.
satoru wants to tease you. he wants to lean over and purr against the shell of your ear, poke fun at you for being so emotional. such a little baby. what else is he supposed to do?
the tricky part is that he can’t. he can’t move, can’t shape his voice into a purr, can’t even speak. he’s frozen in place like a bug trapped in amber, stuck to his seat, unable to do anything but blink at you in what he thinks might be bewilderment.
his breath hitches — and that’s all. 
something about the sight of you makes him falter, makes him stop in his tracks. catches him off guard. he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t recognize the feeling stirred deep within his chest, something discomforting and foreign. doesn’t understand why his heart feels so itchy, all of a sudden.
then your eyes meet.
and you blink. once, then twice. eyes just a little wide, an embarrassed kind of surprise. he thinks you must be flustered, and he’s proven right when your gaze flees from his.
a mingle of words clog up at the base of his throat. say something, say something, say something. but he doesn’t know what. 
he wets his lips, preparing to part them, but before he can get the first syllable out you're leaning in. close. close enough that he feels your breath ghost against the shell of his ear, close enough that his heart starts skipping the way it always does when you press yourself against him like that’s where you belong.
a whisper. it’s small, hushed, a little frail. but there’s something else, too, laced together with the vowels — amusement. 
”you didn’t tell me this was a sad movie.”
a pout plays at your lips, as you murmur your grievances. but then there’s that amusement; it’s there when you pull back, in the crinkle of your sparkling eyes, the curve of your smile. 
and satoru’s shoulders relax. stiffened bones melting. he exhales a breath he had no idea he was holding, and his heart feels at ease. a grin finds it’s way to his lips, wide, teasing, cheshire and sweet. 
he leans a little closer, bumping his head against yours. gently. ”i think you’re just sensitive, baby.”
his teasing is rewarded with a little huff, as your elbow meets his side. soft. everything you do is soft. 
”oh, shut up,” you scoff. smiling. he’s so relieved that you’re smiling. 
a moth to a flame, following his instincts, satoru brings you closer. an arm around your waist, pulling you into his orbit, until you’re practically sharing seats. searching for your hand — and he finds it, intertwining his long fingers with yours, just to give it a little squeeze.
(for some reason, he feels more protective than usual.)
he feels your gaze. questioning, maybe. but you melt into him quickly, with your head slumped against his shoulder, and his heart settles back into a sleepy rhythm. just watching the movie pass you by.
the dim lighting of the theatre casts a hazy shadow over your face, a tender desaturation, and his eyes stay glued to it when you aren’t looking. the smell of popcorn hangs heavy in the air, salty and buttery, warm and sweet, and he’s almost grateful to feel that familiar boredom tug at his veins.
anything is fine. anything is better than that discomfort, that irritating itch. 
satoru watches the movie flicker by, scene by scene, whispering commentary into your ear and stealing your popcorn with a satisfied hum. chuckling when you whisper-shout at him to cut it out!
he tries not to think of the glittering tears at your lash line, and almost succeeds.
Tumblr media
rain clouds, cups of chamomile, and frustration.
it seeps out into the open air, engulfing your living room in a feverish haze. thick and suffocating; the scent of heavy rain, lukewarm tea, and that ugly, ugly feeling underneath his skin.
it pulses. it itches. and oh, how it aches.
satoru hates it. he hates feeling angry, feeling upset — hates when either of those emotions are in connection to you. hates it, hates it, hates it more than anything.
he does everything he possibly can to avoid it; his eyes are keen, always have been, and he can see when that thin line he shouldn’t cross crawls a little too close for comfort. when the rubber band of your patience just snaps. he sees all your buttons, knows which ones not to push. he knows you.
and, more importantly, more than anything — nothing you do could ever make him angry at you. 
(well, at least that’s what he thought.) 
satoru’s anger is a fickle thing, controlled, kept under wraps. it’s a slow process; it simmers, boils, a cup of chamomile brewed too long. and then it all but invades his senses. it never gets the best of him, never, but right now he can feel it — little pinpricks against his skin, a frustration that stirs his guts and has his eyes going cold.
satoru towers over you, like this. full height on display. not slouching or draping himself over furniture, but standing tall, and proud, and menacing. he isn’t smiling, and that’s all you need to know that he’s upset with you. his eyes are layered over with discontentment. 
a sigh spills from his lips, a little gruff, unmistakably annoyed. it slices the silence of the room in half, and a shiver travels down your spine. he doesn’t notice it. his voice has a rough edge to it, something firm. something that doesn’t sound like it could come out of his mouth at all.
”don’t act like such a child.”
a flinch. or maybe more like a jolt; this time, he notices, but it’s too late. he’s in too deep, boiled water licking at his ankles, pulling him down. frustration nips at his skin, and he can’t quite seem to push it away.
and you’re just so, so unaccustomed to it. unaccustomed to seeing him wear anything but a smile, unaccustomed to that cold gaze, usually nothing but warm and fond when it meets your own. this isn’t like him.
it’s not like him at all.
swallowing thickly, you do your best to calm down. but before you can make any attempt to contain it, wetness begins to gather in the corners of your eyes. pooling, little droplets yearning to fall.
satoru notices them instantly. he sees that sad glimmer, framed by the murky darkness seeping in from beyond the curtains, accompanied by the symphony of pitter patter against the windowpane. tears, much like the rain beating down outside.
and his chest goes cold.
a tiny sniffle pushes past your lips, and the dam inside you begins to break — tears tripping over your lash line, rolling down your cheeks. cascading across your pretty face. the air fills with a sense of dread, and both of you seem to be thinking the exact same thing.
(oh, fuck.)
satoru notices, belatedly, that his throat has gone dry. that his heart feels itchy, again. it itches and itches but he can’t do anything to soothe it, and your tears continue to fall. 
his heart begins to crack. right down the middle, like a gash in the reflection of a puddle, right across his chest. it hurts.
an inhale, then an exhale. you’re still trying to keep it all together, grasping for control over your emotions, but it’s not going too well. the little breaths that escape your throat are shaky at best, hands trembling as you wipe the tears away with the front of your wrists. and your voice sounds a little like it’s about to crumble away. 
”sorry,” you squeak, taking a step back. there’s a silent panic in the gesture, one that makes satoru want to get down on his knees. ”i’ll just — i’ll leave —”
he wants to stop you. he needs to stop you. but he does nothing, nothing at all, even as you stumble out. leaving the haunting echo of tiny sniffles and tear-stained cheeks behind you. 
satoru just stands there. once again, the sight of your tears seems to render him completely helpless. useless.
and he's frustrated, honestly. frustrated by the argument, by your tears, by his own guilt. he’s so frustrated he wants to claw his eyes out. he scratches at his forearm, but it does no good. all he can think of is your frightened little expression.
(he scared you.)
satoru slumps down on the couch, head in his hands, running rough fingers through his soft hair. it’s unruly by the time he’s done, and his bottom lip is bruised with teeth marks, and everything in the world feels so meaningless. so out of tune.
(he made you cry.)
a sigh. drawn out, tinged with exhaustion, bitter and battered like the swing of a baseball bat. he feels a little like he could throw up. it’s foreign, this emotion, suffocating. how long has it been since he genuinely felt this kind of shame?
the crack in his heart grows deeper, while you’re gone. more severe. every moment you spend outside of his vision makes him falter more and more, makes his desperation grow. desperate to plead for your forgiveness, to convince you not to leave. to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, delicately, the way you deserve. but he can do nothing but sit there, useless, repeating the same old phrase inside his mind.
he’ll make it up to you.
and when you finally come back, having calmed down a bit, he does just that. you’re embarrassed, he can tell, a little meek. it makes him feel that discomforting emotion, again, that ache. the crack that only ever seems to deepen.
but he covers it all up with a smile. a little sheepish, more than a little forced, but he hopes you understand. hopes you can see his remorse, see a man who loves you, because he does. 
so satoru takes you into his arms, softly, hands finding the small of your back. delicate, protective. a little whisper spilling from his lips. 
”’m sorry, baby. i didn’t mean it.”
and it’s not enough. he knows it isn’t. but he does what he can — even when it just ends up clumsy, teasing, bordering on something that most would interpret as insincere. all he can do is coddle you. shower you in hugs and kisses, gifts and praises. he hands it out like candy, eager hands finding yours, everything spilling out of his chest all at once. 
there’s a desperation to it that isn’t lost on you.
but it works. he’ll make it up to you; he swears. and he dotes on you until you’re too embarrassed to be sad anymore, apologizes until his throat runs dry. until he’s sure you believe him. 
he brews you another cup of chamomile, stirred to perfection, warm enough to make up for the shiver he sent down your spine. the rain beating down on your windows serves as a constant reminder of his failure, and satoru does his best to ignore it. swallowing what’s left of his frustration, focusing on you.
anything to see you smile again. anything to wash away the red tint to your eyes, the puffy skin beneath them. anything to hear you laugh, to get you to feel safe around him again. 
(anything to make him forget the sight of those tears rolling down your cheeks.)
Tumblr media
panic, panic, panic.
it’s all he can feel, all he can think, the only emotion his muddled mind can cling to. he’s in pure, sincere, genuine panic, and you aren’t saying a thing. can’t bring yourself to.
arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, you hide away in the crook of his neck. clutching the fabric of his shirt, burrowing your face deeper into his warmth — and you’re not just crying.
you’re downright sobbing.
satoru knew something was off the moment you fell into his embrace, suddenly, tackling him into a hug so desperate it left him reeling. a kind of desperation he isn’t used to, from you.
he knew something was wrong. 
he knew even before he heard it; your choking sobs, those shaky, heaving breaths. muffled into the cotton of his shirt, his uncertain arms around you.
they break his heart.
”hey, hey…” there’s a soothing lilt to his voice, awfully delicate. sweet like molten honey, almost enough to hide the panic. ”what’s wrong?”
satoru holds you to his chest, safe and secure, cradling you protectively. as if shielding you from the world — from whatever or whoever got you like this. as if you’d crumble into dust, otherwise.
he tries to calm down, but his mind is spinning like a broken clock, and your silence doesn’t help. you’re trying to respond; he knows you are, but you just can’t get the words out. any attempts only make you cry harder.
a shake of your head is all he gets — and it’s not much, but satoru’s learned to make a lot out of a little. 
so he continues to hold you, hiding his worry, tucking his anxiety away somewhere you won’t be able to see. he curses, inwardly, grasping blindly for conclusions — for some divine guidance. how is he supposed to deal with this?
(how long has it been since he felt so very useless?)
gentle. that’s the approach he takes, finally, hiding his nervosity. he rocks you back and forth, just a little, like he’s lulling you to sleep; his warm hands finding the small of your back, the back of your head. cradling you so close you hear his rapid heartbeat by your ear.
soothing whispers. murmured into your hair, so soft they seem to melt once they slip from his tongue, all honey and devotion. affection so palpable you taste it in the air, from the breaths he exhales. 
”it’s fine. i’m here, i’m here… i’ve got you.”
he doesn’t know what he’s doing, not really, but it seems to work. because you calm down, after a while, just sniffling into his neck and letting him soothe you. sobs and unstable heaves, turning into whimpers and shaky breaths. clinging to him all the while; so desperate for comfort, for him.
it makes him feel so, so desperate to protect you, to wash every single one of your worries away.
it’s unbearable, this aching desire. like a great, insatiable, unnamed something deep within the caverns of his chest, clawing at his ribcage, snarling and hissing, itching to break out so it can open its maw and devour you both.
(it’s ugly. it’s grotesque. it wants to keep you safe so badly it might kill him for it.)
a coo. sad, dripping with care, a comforting tone that he hopes you’ll find soothing. he smooths his palm down the back of your head, heavy, doting. it hurts so much to see you hurt.
”my baby….” satoru exhales, a little shaky. but he smiles, and he hopes you can hear it, hopes it’ll help mend the pain in your chest. ”what’s got you this upset, hm? you're worrying me, here…”
a broken sniffle. the guilt eats at you, gnaws at your bones, and all you can do is hide away in the crook of his neck. apologizing, your voice no more than a tremor of a breath.
”’m sorry…”
and satoru thinks his heart shatters. he can practically hear the crash, feel the broken, useless little pieces dig into his skin.
his arms travel down to your hips, steady, and he lifts you up. just for a second, just so he can plop down on the floor with you in tow — keeping you snuggled into his neck. seated on his lap with your legs around his waist, like you’re his baby koala.
”shh, it's okay,” he soothes, a grounding rumble of his chest right by your ear. he’s got you enveloped, wrapped up in his buzzing warmth, and all you can feel is him. ”you’re okay. no matter what it is, i'll take care of it, alright? you can rely on me.”
a moment passes. 
satoru clears his throat. nervous, suddenly. ”you know that, right?”
all you can give him is a shaky nod, but it’s enough. he sighs, in palpable relief, still rubbing circles into your back. ”okay,” he sneaks a hand underneath your shirt, tracing little shapes into your bare skin. ”good.”
he isn’t sure how long you spend there, on the floor, entirely focused on comforting you. washing away all your sadness, with every gentle caress, every soothing murmur of there, there… every little stutter of his heartbeat next to yours.
and when you’ve finally calmed down, melting under his touch and into his skin, arms going lax around his neck — satoru takes a breath. collecting himself, so you don’t have to. acting like his heart isn’t still a mess of crushed glass.
”you okay now?” he coos, drawing absentminded hearts into the skin of your back. his voice is teasing, but warm, spilling from his tongue and into your ear. deep and smooth. ”almost gave me a heart attack, baby.”
he feels the way your grip around him tightens, just a smidge, and he hears the weak little breath you draw in. your voice is still shaky, and it makes him want to rearrange the world, stitch those broken vowels back together. 
(he doesn’t like how irrational it is, this insatiable something. how it makes him want to bend the rules of the universe, just to see you smile. a dangerous temptation.)
”i’m sorry,” you croak, clinging to him like a shipwreck to a shore. ”it’s not — not a big deal, ’m just…” 
satoru pulls back. just a little bit, making sure your arms and legs stay in their rightful place, curled around his neck and waist. making sure the two of you stay connected.
then he pinches your cheek.
”don’t apologize,” he quips, a playful frown on his face. soft, a vague furrow of his brows. like he’s scolding you. 
it makes you wince, your eyes downcast. you look so meek. a little like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes glancing up at him in search of comfort.
satoru clicks his tongue. ”and don’t look at me like that, either.” 
he boops your nose, playful, doting, and you exhale weakly. it’s small, more breath than a real laugh, but you’re almost smiling, and —
it’s a start. it’s something.
satoru coos, voice dripping with warmth, sickeningly sweet. it seeps from his fingertips when he cradles your cheek in his palm, rubbing circles into the puffy skin beneath your eyes. there’s a mirth in his own, crinkled at the edges, tucked into that blue shade, something glazed over with pure adoration.
”there’s that smile.” 
he leans forward, closer, to press a kiss against the bridge of your nose, eyelashes fluttering. tickling your skin. you fall further into his embrace and he makes no move to resist, wouldn’t do it even if he physically could. even if he had the strength to let you go.
then he broaches the subject. hesitant. tactful, careful, delicate — he tries to remember how it works. how to handle something fragile. he thinks of those boxes you carried last week, little porcelain cups. heavy in his arms. he thinks of the way you jab his side with your elbow; gentle, always gentle, even though there’s never any need.
he thinks of you, and it all comes easy. that’s how it always goes.
”wanna talk about it?” he asks, softly. fingers treading through your hair, scratching softly at your scalp. it makes you melt, a little. clearing your throat.
”it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, tiny, seeking respite in the warmth that seeps from his body. speaking with a raspy voice, a hoarse throat, all tired out after crying. ”nothing big, anyway…” 
a moment passes, before you continue. ”i guess it's just been a rough week,” you admit, a sigh slipping from your lips, tinged with pure exhaustion. ”just little things piling up. ’m okay now.” 
a hum. satoru clears his throat.
”anything i can do?”
(please let me help.)
but you only shake your head. ”you’ve already done enough,” you assure him, leaning into his touch. ”think i just needed to get it all out, y’know?”
a beat. an itch. satoru holds you tight, a little tighter than he should. gentle, he reminds himself. but he needs you close enough to feel the flutter of your heartbeat, close enough to delude himself that you’ve merged together. closer isn’t close enough.
he gnaws at his bottom lip, teeth sinking into the flesh. pulling words out from the back of his throat, uncertain. ”i’m always here,” he settles on. ”if there’s anything you need, come straight to me. okay?”
a frown plays at your lips. you’re silent, for a while, until he hears you mumble beneath your breath.
”i don’t want to bother you so much, though…”
”— it’s not a bother.”
the words spill into the air, a little more firm than he meant to sound. but he means them.
”i’m serious. if you ever need help, with anything, come find me. i’m yours,” satoru inhales, deep, his chest moving in tune with the breath. you’re carried along with it, as if being lulled to sleep, following the steady pattern of his lungs. 
then he exhales. in, and out, and with it comes a promise. ”if anyone makes you cry, i’ll get rid of them.”
he says it casually, so casually that you assume it’s a joke, a bout of breathless giggles pushing past your lips. the sound has his own curling up, and he doesn’t have the heart to correct you. has enough tact to know that this might not be the best moment to let you know that he’s honestly a little terrified of how far he’d be willing to go to keep you safe and happy. 
but you’re smiling, finally, laughing. and that matters more than anything. when he closes his eyes, he thinks he can even feel the telltale signs that his heart is picking itself back up, gluing jagged shards into a shape that resembles you.
"that's scary!” you gasp, amusement bubbling up inside your throat. ”you’d go to jail for me?”
satoru huffs. ”bold of you to assume i’d get caught,” he tuts, a smug smile on his face. it makes you giggle, again, and he feels like a god.
”okay, okay,”  you nose at his neck, breathing him in, strawberry lotion and laundry detergent filling your senses. ”please don’t kill anyone on my behalf, though.”
”no promises.”
”satoru…”
slowly, steadily, his heart begins to stitch itself together. it helps that you’re there, he thinks. helps that you’re pressed up against him, that you’re holding him, like he’s the safest thing in the world. like you trust him.
(the word tastes like molten honey and luscious berries, sickly-sweet on his tongue. he gulps it down hungrily.)
it’s healing. the weight of your arms around him, the breaths that brush against his neck. he holds you to keep you together, intact, to keep himself together. a shipwreck and a shore — he just isn’t sure which one of you is which. but your jagged edges fit just right with his own.
”i don’t like seeing you cry.”
you blink. gazing up at him, with a contemplative look in your eyes. it melts into something a little too close to guilt for his liking. shame.
”— but i still want you to let me see you like that.” satoru smiles, with a tilt of his head. snowy tufts of hair falling across his face. ”is that weird?”
a moment passes. then you hum.
”no,” you exhale, a little breathless. smiling, somewhat weak, but still enough to have his heart skipping a beat. ”i love that about you, satoru.”
”huh?” he gapes at you — blinking dumbly. ”love what? that i want to see you sob into my chest?”
”that you try,” you stifle a yawn, sleepily nuzzling into him, all tuckered out from crying. ”even when it makes you a little uncomfortable.”
satoru stills. 
silence fills the space between you. there’s nothing more to say. his tongue isn’t really cooperating with him, anyhow — all tied up. so he leaves a kiss on the top of your head, and doesn’t say a word about the tremor running through his chest. 
he hates seeing you cry. hates how powerless it makes him feel, how useless. hates the fact that he can’t always protect you from the world, from himself.
but you let him see you like that.
he thinks of your tears, crystalline and glassy, like translucent marbles on a summer shore — and sees the trust instead of the sorrow. he thinks of your tearstained face, meek and feeble, and knows it’ll always be enough to break his heart to pieces. 
he thinks of you, and tells himself that it’s worth it; just as long as he gets to bring that pretty little smile back to life. 
#jjk#satoru#omg i am so excited i finally got to this ari 🥹🥹 and an x times kind of fic too oh my heart!!!!!!#oh he’s soooo into you 🥺 how his gaze always gravitates towards you i am sOOO my heart is SOOO#‘lives and die by it’ PLSSS reading this is like reading it thru rose tinted glasses!!! his rose tinted glasses!! like a movie in a haze 🥹#your writing is always so incredibly descriptive ari and i love love love that because it paints the scene so so well!!#it describes his emotions so well too — the part on him watching your tears is so pretty ‘crystalline & dew-drawn’ HOW PRETTY#the way the movie reflects on your irises — i love that image so much!!!! its such a vivid picture#satoru not knowing what to do when youre near; his emotions going haywire UUUGH forever a fave concept#and WHEN HE SPEAKS WKNDJEJD I THINK URE JUST SENSITIVE BABY HELLLLLOOOOOSUSJDJISJSJS#‘everything you do is soft’ MY GOSH that’s SO CUTE#anything is better than that irritating itch :((((((( GAWSH i love him#i LOOOOOVE the little descriptors at the start and how they set the mood for the scene omg love love loce#comparing his anger to a cup of chamomile??? oh my god i LOVE that how it simmers and boils omfg ari ur mind#and an angry satoru? oh my god take me tf out LOL IDK iF I CAN TAKE THAT LMAO#slicing the silence in the room into half is an AMAZING description ari omfg#‘dont act like such a child’ MY jaw DROPPED oh my god ari if he ever said that to me id actually cry#that oh fuck is so so loud and i love love love how you described that scene ari omg its so vivid and i could feel his and the readers#emotions thru it !!! i wish i could copy paste it properly but im rdg from my phone rn so 🥲#the idea that he hurts when you hurt is sooo oh my god im such a sucker for that and i think its so true!!#because as much as youre unaccustomed to him acting this way; he’s just as unaccustomed to treating you like this too :((((#oh my god him biting his lips to death :(( everything is meaningless . out of tune :(#see a man who loves you because he does :((( WAAAAH ILL SAWB RN#:(((( it makes him want to rearrange the the world & stitch those broken vowels back together HOW PRETTY#the sheer panic he feels at you sobbing bc he just doesnt know what to do#oh god :(( he thinks of you when he wants to handle you gently :(( bc thats all u rlly are :(( gentle :((#and its insane omg how kinda crazed u can feel he is abt u too. how uve managed to write in the extent of what he’d do just for y#i love the lil banter after 🥺 how he tries to keep things lighthearted still bc thats him!! thats satoru!!!#that dialogue is so tender ‘i dont like seeing u cry but i still want you to let me see u like that’ UGH i love that#:((((( and its that act of. he doesnt like it but he’ll brave it for u!! i love that line of him knowing that itll break his heart
1K notes · View notes
gentlesounds · 1 year ago
Text
.
1 note · View note