Curate, connect, and discover
Today, my friend was complaining that I was finishing my work faster than her. So she comes up to me, and says, with a full serious voice,
'I hope you find shart in your cereal'
I stared at her for a good minute, wth??
i desperately want to be happy. i can feel the ache for it deep within my bones where purest part of my soul screams for it. like without it i will die.
sometimes i think i have it. i let myself get comfortable with the carefree air i carry with me and the laughter that fills my lungs are heart. i feel complete as if i have everything i could ever want and question what it was like to feel alone and hopeless.
and then all of a sudden something slips.
and it is like i have awoken from a wonderful dream to only be thrust back into a cold reality. every interaction i have is made through a sheet of glass, voices muffled and touches separated. and the screaming is back.
i know i will one again be back within the warm realm of belonging where joy seems to reside. but this cycle exhausts me to my core and makes me question if i will ever be permitted to stay bathed in happiness and light.
<3
— 1 missed call from [Name] —
Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t call you back. Ignore the missed call, head back to bed, and forgot you forever. Forget the romance you once shared and move on. Forgot all the words of love that ever left his lips. You are not his and he is not yours.
But he can’t. He can’t possibly ignore you when you’re calling him at 2AM, yearning for him in whatever way you do.
So he calls. Like the fool that he is, he calls his ex-girlfriend of one year back.
“Hello?”
“Tsukishima…” you trail, and your voice is distant. So far, so small, so fearful. He hears your hesitance from one word only.
He wishes you could call him your Kei again.
“Why did you call me?” Tsukishima responds with hostility, for that is all he knows. When he lost you, his ways changed and his heart turned to stone. It seems that anger is all he knows these days, a hard tongue made of venom and stone.
“I-I wanted to talk to you.”
You stutter. You stutter and Tsukishima knows that you’re drunk. You have a few habits whenever you’re intoxicated, and a stutter is always accompanied with the alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” is all he says.
“I know.”
“Talk to me when you’re sober,” he goes to cut the call, but a quick wait! is enough to halt his movements.
“God, I don’t even know why I even called you,” you whisper, as if speaking to yourself.
He sighs, “where are you?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
“You went out not knowing where you’re going?” He asks, and it’s that condescending tone you hate. The one that pushed your relationship to its limit.
“It’s not like I wanted to be here,” you whisper yet again, a measly attempt at defending yourself.
Another sigh, another sign of disappointment, and Tsukishima finally speaks up.
“Go to the Maps app.” You mumble a small okay, and do as he tells you. “Now zoom in on your location and send it to me.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
You listen to him and soon after Tsukishima gets a notification. He doesn’t bid you goodbye, simply cuts the call and gets up from his bed. He heads for his closet, grabbing two jackets, and heads out the door.
He’ll see you for the first time in a year.
-
And see you he does.
You’re sat on the curb of the road, your knees pushed against your chest and your head resting on your knees. It seems as if you’re asleep, your eyes closed and body still.
He kneels beside you, whispering your name loud enough to wake you up.
“Huh?” You groan, turning your head to look at the man you can’t seem to let go. “Kei?”
There it is. It’s always sounded so sweet on your tongue, so sultry and intimate. It’s his given name, the one he grows to love each time you say it.
It’s bittersweet hearing it from you.
“Why are you just sleeping in the middle of the road? What if some pervert stopped by?”
“But nobody did,” you say, logic leaving you in your drunken state. You move closer to him, seeking his warmth.
You’ve always loved his touch. When you once called him yours, his body was always somehow attached to yours. Your skin on his, his heart in your palm.
He sighs, “get in the car, [Name].”
He pulls you up from your position, easily holding you as gently as he can.
“You never used to call me by my name,” you stop and lean into his shoulder. “I was always your baby.”
Tsukishima knows it’s the alcohol talking. That you’d never say this sober, and that there’s a possibility that you don’t mean any of those words. But his heart still hurts. It hurts so much that he feels as if he has lost himself. Lost all the progress he made to just get over you.
(But perhaps he never really stopped loving you, if he was so willing to pick up your call.)
He lays you on the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt for you. He drapes the extra jacket over your shoulders, and you remember it to be one of your favourites. You stare at him the whole time—eyes on his—but he refuses to look back. Not when he knows how easily his resolve could crumble with you around.
The car starts soon after, and you’re already asleep. Your head lays peacefully on the mirror, and Tsukishima wishes he could stay like this forever. In a world where he is yours and you are his.
-
There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets.
He prefers to live in the present and let the past be the past. What has happened is unchanging, so why worry? Why worry about what he should’ve done, when all he has is the now?
There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets. But he will always regret leaving you.
He knows that now, as he is in your bedroom, trying to find a way to change you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear.
You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, unmoving in the midst of all noise. That trait carries on to now, as he struggles to get your top off your body.
You squirm as he touches you. “Kei,” you whisper. “Why’d you pick me up?”
“You called me.”
“But you picked up,” you slur, “you could’ve ignored me. You were good at that when we were together.”
He winces. He knows you don’t mean it. You’ve always been far too kind to respond with such malice, especially towards him. Even when your relationship was walking on a tightrope, you never once yelled at him.
“Why were you so mean, Tsukishima?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows it, but his heart burns the more you speak.
“I loved you so much, but you didn’t love me at all.”
“Don’t,” he immediately interrupts, “don’t say I never loved you.”
“You never showed me,” your voice is small, and he knows you’re about to cry. (Even after all these months, your habits remain in his mind.)
“I love you. So much more than you’ll ever understand,” he speaks with so much passion, that he forgets his confession.
He loves you. His heart will always belong to you.
“I love you too,” you cry, and a single teardrop grazes your cheek.
“You never deserved me.”
“I get to decide that,” you grab his delicate face with your rough hands. He always fit so perfectly in your palms. “I get to decide who is good for me.”
He pauses, resting in your hands and cherishing every moment he has with you. And it’s in your calloused palms where Tsukishima realises what he misses. He misses your presence, your love, you. Every habit that made him love you so deeply, he misses.
He will be yours again, he decides, as you hold him close. Somehow, someway, he will win you back.
“wdym ‘she’s my favorite character’ shes a side character who never shows her face and doesn’t even have a name”
i dont care what anybody says, she is SO CUTE
…no- bc i see it,. and i cant unsee it now..
naoya is a yassified kita
i’ve recently, in the past 30 minutes, just been hyper aware of earthquakes and how often they happen.
i feel like, if they weren’t in the same series, bokuto would be an oikawa kinnie.
for the sole reason of [superiority + inferiority complex]
Okay,.. hear me out..
Beauty and the beast coffee shop au..(?)
Hating everything that breaths at the moment.
Low key thinking about starting a WEBTOON but idk if anybody would read it, and I don’t know if I have the motivation....
Anyone else have that moment where the lights flicker but you low-key gaslight yourself into thinking it was just a really prominent blink?
...just me?
Man life is funny when you just stop giving a shit. Like you distance yourself. Act like you're not a human experiencing the fall of humanity, imagine ur an alien watching it. Watching them scramble to pick up the pieces they themselves broke.
However we got here I don't know, but for this metaphor let's say god's how. God is you in this metaphor. You've just placed your very fish hungry cat into a fish tank. The fish tank has to water but a multitude of fish. All the cat must do is eat the fish. The cat then grows a fucking hand and fucking fills the tank with water. Then when the cat cannot breathe it's shocked. It hops and skips for air and gives up because, "Well not much I can do about it; I mean I'm only a cat." The cat is thinking. So the cat just slowly fucking drowns. And you just stand there like,
And you're simply in too much shock to help your drowning cat and honestly the fish might be dead too they were out of the water for a while. And what the fuck is going on and why the fuck did your cat GROW A FUCKING ARM!??!?!?!??!?
Anyway so in this metaphor, God is you, the cat is humanity, the arm is economics and fossil fuel and colonisation, the fishes are earth and existence, and of course the water is the global issues we're facing.
The point is, if a cat growing an arm and drowning itself isn't funny to you, get rid of the water pussy. Get it? Pussy. It's a cat metaphor- Anyway! If it is funny to you then like just fucking watch! Like see what happens. I don't know!? Maybe the arm comes back and grabs a bucket. The funniest and most likely outcomes are,
1.) The cat just fucking sits down and takes it, slowly drowning with a care in the world. (We all die like the dinos did)
2.) The cat freaks out and pushes the fish tank over and it explodes into a million shards of glass. (Apocalypse senario)
3.) The cat stands up and steps out of the tank. (Moving planets)
4.) The cat drinks the water and then chokes and dies (We use our problems to cause more problems)
5.) The cat grabs a bucket and slowly dumps out the water. (We fix this shit)
Either way I'm rooting for 5 but I cannot wait to see what happens, especially if it's six. Oh six is the cat growing gills which is basically just the frog in a pot metaphor where we all just get used to the planet being on fire and not being able to breathe nice air.
Any bye!!!!!