#the random middle act observation that gets me

[astrogre]

Astro Observations 1

My first Astro observations post, I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.

Venus in 10th house natives tend to be well known for the person they may date. They tend to date people that really match them physically and can have their relationships idolized by others. The sign it’s under can show what their partners may be known for. This is also a common placement for celebrities because the interest from others in your love life increases your public image, making you more desirable and of interest to everyone including agencies/record labels, they will see your influential potential and love that. Even if you guys don’t date anyone people may have someone in mind who they think matches you or others can just look at you and wonder what your “type” is. Your love life in itself is of interest to others.

Eg. Chris Brown, Johnny Depp, Jimin, Victoria Beckham, Kristen Stewart, Billie Eilish, Kanye West.

Another way Venus 10th housers may manifest is they may have crushes on renowned key figures from history like JFK, Alexander Hamilton, Stalin, Cleopatra, Marilyn Monroe, royal monarchy literally any people of historical significance. (Saturn influence is long lasting and for Venus to be here it can make natives romanticise powerful historical figures)

Pluto 3rd housers can dominate the conversations they have with others so much that they don’t let the other person have their own opinion.

Capricorn Chiron in 6th house makes people feel worthless and terrible if they haven’t been productive for a day, these people don’t like to be lazy, it makes them feel inferior. They put a lot of pressure on themselves to produce and their day routine may be their greatest pride.

10H stellium always have career plans, they like to advance their CV and career prowess for fun, always taking up opportunities. Especially if sun is here.

12H stellium always posting the weirdest stuff that others don’t understand but it has a unique vibe to it that just feels “right” at the same time, they may have this aesthetic that feels eery but overtime enjoyable and something to look forward to because of its uniqueness. I have a 12H stellium friend and they always post pictures of weird random abandoned places with crocs and dirty teddy bears laying in the middle of them. At first I thought it strange but overtime, I look forward to what monstrosity of visuals they will bring next. 12H really does bring out things never seen before. 🤔

Venus in 1H makes you look very feminine, you may style yourself in a feminine manner or have a naturally feminine appearance. Eg. Leo Venus in 1H May have very beautiful feminine looking long hair.

1H Libra Mars has a similar effect as Venus in the 1H however these natives have a hint touch of masculinity, are rather playboy, Casanova and can have a big ego. Think of Flynn rider from tangled. Very pretty boy.

People with 12H Capricorn placements may procrastinate or find difficulty in bringing the planets in there into reality and get frustrated at themselves for it. It’s similar to the planet being in retrograde E.g a 12H Capricorn moon not being able to fully show or act on the way they feel in their head. Look at the house of where Saturn is in your chart to find the topics and how you can bring the energy of your Capricorn 12H planets out.

0 degrees for any planet or asteroid means that you embody that planet/asteroid and its sign in its most pure authentic form. It can make you the epithet of that placement.

Lilith Square Asc makes someone not able to escape looking like a bad boy/girl it always comes out in their appearance without them intending to. They don’t want to present themselves in a way that looks scandalous but at the same time a part of them is and they can’t escape that. It’s like an energy. They’re dynamic and free, they like what they like and that shows in their face and appearance. They also can’t change things about themselves to please others even if they wanted to.

Jupiter 1H usually have big features, like a glossy kind of look to them. It may be big eyes, flushed face, supple puffy skin, wide nose or just have an abundant looking face. I’ve also noticed they tend to have a squared shape face with rounded edges. E.g Hailey Beiber, Abraham Lincoln, Gerard Butler, Aishwarya Rai, Niall Horan, Ashton kutcher, Whitney Houston, Cristiano Ronaldo

Also this is completely random and not astrologically backed up but whenever I think of Jupiter 1H I just think of clear gleaming skin. Perhaps it is backed up astrologically as Jupiter blesses and brings luck to the house it’s in and it being in the 1st rules a natives appearance. Anyways when I think of Jupiter 1st house I always imagine that they don’t need very much makeup they have this glow to them already that cannot be copied.

Virgo ASC style and dress themselves in a way that’s unique for them, for an example they may always have a signature accessory that they wear that only they understand why it’s so important to be worn. E.g. can be a headband, jewellery or hat. They may also be consistent in the way they look, they don’t tend to have “bad days”. In my personal opinion I find Virgo rising men the most attractive. But beauty is in the perspective of the beholder.

Speaking of which, my unpopular opinion is that I don’t believe that a sign or planet can make you more beautiful than another sign E.g like how people say Venus, libra and Taurus is an indicator of being beautiful -I just think that each sign personifies beauty in a different way. In my eyes I see Libra and Venus beauty to be feminine and attractive, but I find Pluto Scorpio beauty to be alluring and intense, magnetic, like Phantom of the opera, like an enchanting vampire that resides in the shadows. I also find Uranus Aquarius beauty to be far more entrancing, striking and even as if the native looks like their from a game fantasy novel or a manga protagonist. I don’t think we can just say “having Venus prominent makes someone more beautiful than others”, perhaps conventionally but not universally. Planets and signs of the first house can show us HOW the beauty is made manifest. It being of Venus, libra influence just kind of makes it feminine or conventionally attractive like butterflies or roses rather than intense or of large magnitude (unless making aspects to magnifying planets like Jupiter)

Aquarius moons can feel a lot of emotions but they’re very good at holding it in. People say that they don’t feel much because the nature of Aquarius being detached however I’ve also seen it occur in a way where the Aquarius moon native may pretend they’re not hurt or sad so that they can keep it pushing and force this happy facade so it hurts less but in reality their just burying the pain deeper. They are kind of avoidant but it makes you feel sorry for them because even if you try to comfort them they don’t even acknowledge the pain themselves so it doesn’t make much of a difference.

Jupiter in 6th house always have action packed days, they spend their days with joy and have a really good time. They usually have their dream day to day life. They’re your one friend that is always doing something interesting, fully booked and loves it.

Jupiter 8H are never strapped for cash, these natives can just be very lucky in getting money from others. Especially if in harmonious aspects with sun, Pluto and Venus. If aspects are negative native still doesn’t worry much but may find that people are a little more hesitant to giving or Jupiter 8H native doesn’t want to ask for it.

Mars 1H makes someone want to work harder on their body by going to the gym, may want to look more manly, aggressive.

Jupiter conjunct moon in 7th house makes you a very passionate lover, anyone who is in a relationship with you can always feel excited and you excel in relationships.

Mercury conjunct ascendant can make someone always think about their goals, plan their next move. They use their minds to get what they want from life and can talk about the principles they apply to themselves which can make them look rather intelligent to others. Can also make someone appear very youthful, not only in appearance but their mannerisms too. Like a dimply smile, blushing and shaking their head when complimented. An animated response.

Moon opposite asc, tends to make a person unable to think clearly when emotions are involved, especially when it’s related to topics in the house your moon is in, like you can look a little mentally unstable here 💀 because your emotions that you show can drastically change from 0-100. moon opp asc also can have a person go against what they want, their principles and approach to life, the opposition forces them to deny their feelings existence in order to act in the way they believe is best. You can even care more about your image than the themes of the moons house.

E.g 7H moon opposite ascendant can make someone care about their image in the relationship, display an image of nonchalance when in reality they’re very protective of their partner. The feelings from their partner and their relationship can be irresistible and make them at times abandon their vices and plans for themselves

#astro notes #astrology #astro placements #astro posts #astro observations #astrology observations #learning astrology #dark astrology #1st house #ascendant #capricorn #venus 10th house #venus in 10th house #venus in libra #12th house #mars in libra #libra #aquarius moon #virgo rising #Jupiter in 6th house #Jupiter 6th house #Jupiter 8th house #astro community #astrology planets #astro #astroblr #astrology placements

[churipu]

Could you do a reaction of jjk men reacting to you not wanting to celebrate your birthday because it's too much work? Thank you ♥️♥️

JJK MEN + YOU NOT WANTING TO CELEBRATE YOUR BDAY

featuring. geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. none

note. hello nonnie :D i've never actually thought of this omg, but i'm a little ecstatic to write this bcs as a person who has a love-hate with celebrating birthdays, i know how it feels sometimes. anyways, i hope you like this nonnie :(

GETO SUGURU. geto never really liked party anyways, and during your first year together, the male asks you if you preferred private birthdays where it's just the two of you or a big birthday with everyone in it — so he could take note in the future, because the male took it into consideration that if you didn't like big and loud parties, and then he makes one for you; it would be uncomfortable for your side (when it's supposed to be the day you celebrate your birth).

"i don't like big parties, 's too much work to do." you answered him with a small smile.

and ever since then, he's kept in mind to never make big parties for you — both of your birthdays are celebrated only between you both. you would do it for him, and he'd do it for you.

just a small cake, a present, and the two of you. he needed nothing else but to be with you, it's the picture perfect birthday for him. and you thought so too.

"can we eat cake now?" you asked him, eyes gleaming.

geto chuckles and he took it as a job to cut you one — watching you eat the slice happily before cutting another slice for you, to which you always accept.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami has always knew that you loathed parties — from the way you act, and how you always try to stay away from parties or get-goings with a lot of people. and so when your first birthday with him as your boyfriend came around the corner, he planned a dinner for the both of you.

nanami bought a bouquet of flowers with your favorite flowers, an extra present (that he will have to find by observing and remembering about the things you have ever said to him), a cake, and princess treatment (not that he ever stops doing it anyways).

"happy birthday," he mumbles into your hair, pulling you closer and planting a kiss to your lips sloppily.

"thank you, kento." you giggled lightly, leaning your face into his shoulder, resting your head there for a bit.

you never question him about how he knows you don't like parties, and just kind of roll with it. because you loved it, people in the past, whether it being your friends or your parents — sometimes would throw big parties for you, and you never ended up enjoying your birthday at all. even if it was celebrated.

but with nanami? you've always managed to enjoy every birthday.

"here," he hands you a small velvet colored box, "i bought you something," he grabs your hand before opening the small box with one hand.

it was a silver colored ring, "kento," you call out to him, "that costs...a lot."

"i love you." he replies, sliding the ring into your finger — a small smile on his face. he brings your hand onto his lips, kissing it softly.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. toji never thought of throwing parties in the first place anyways — he hates parties with random people all around. when your first birthday comes up, he got you a small cake and a present, that was about it really.

"'m sorry, it's all i got." he mumbles out, as much as he hates apologizing; at that moment he actually felt like a bad boyfriend to you — because it was your birthday, it didn't matter what he doesn't like, what if you liked big birthday parties?

"'ts okay, baby. i don't like parties, so this is perfect." you tell him with a small smile, "parties are too much work anyways."

god, watch him fall even harder for you after.

believe me when i said he actually tries to sing out the happy birthday song to you, but never make it to the end because he felt shy to do it so he always stops in the middle.

but just the thought of him doing that was enough for you, it's always a perfect birthday with him, really. just the two of you, having a little bit of cake before going out to eat dinner and then just hanging out with each other.

what more could you ask for?

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk fluff #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fluff

[saturnianautist]

Astro notes pt. 6 ⋆｡𖦹˚. ✩｡⋆☆ ˖ ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Disclaimer: Not a professional these are just my personal observations <3

-Aquarius placements make a lot of impulsive decisions in my experience. This might be because they’re ruled by uranus (modernly) the planet of unexpected changes, I feel like they make these big plans out of no where without fully thinking them through idk. Being traditionally ruled by Saturn (restrictions) I wonder if they feel trapped sometimes that they feel they need to move shift or act out in some way to get out of what they’re overwhelmed by. They get overwhelmed by their responsibilities (Saturn). Capricorns feel overwhelmed by their responsibilities too but they tend to hold it together a bit more to where you can’t tell they’re dealing with so much, Aquarius’s kind of let it overtake them a bit sometimes tho, even more so if they also have prominent water influence.

-Virgo placements and the random nausea in the middle of eating.

-Virgos be staying up till 4 in the damn morning bc their minds be running right when it’s time to go to sleep, it’s like all the anxiety comes out right then every night.

-Fire moons are so underrated like if you’re friends with one you will feel so loved and appreciated bc they have such big hearts.

-Another Virgo one but Virgos and their obsession with mini things?

-I think people underestimate Libra placements. They have ppl thinking they’re airheaded when really they act that way on purpose to manipulate shit behind the scenes they most likely know exactly what they’re doing.

-Mars in the second house with Virgo placements giving me the most violent intrusive thoughts right before bed, like I was tryna think of nice things and it’s just giving me decapitation pls how’d we get here brain.

-Libra moons especially in the 1st or 3rd houses are so good at networking with people, they are charming and very smart socially. In the first house it emphasizes on how you wear your heart on your sleeve, you can’t hide how you feel about something and are upfront and people value that and feel more connected to you because of it. With the 3rd house it emphasizes more on your speech and the way you speak being charming, you might have a way with words.

-With the note above if you have any prominent Aries its even more amplified because you guys are leaders and don’t hesitate to chase after your goals so you are very straightforward in making those connections and people see your confidence and wanna be beside you.

-Capricorn placements with fire placements in a chart really have a clear vision of where they wanna go in life, they have big dreams and know how to be successful

-Sagittarius in the 12th house and charts with lots of mutable sign placements can easily shift their mindsets when they’re stuck or struggling. With sag in the 12th, they might be feeling lost or in crisis one day and the very next day gain some sort of perspective or higher knowledge that leads them down the right path out of their restrictive thoughts. With mutable in general they are just very adaptable to their environment so they don’t get stuck in one place for very long.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ🌷🍵

If you got to the end thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations

[marrycv]

You dont gotta love me, we dont have to speak…

paring : mean!ellie x dumb!reader

warnings : language, smut, mention of alcohol, weed. Ellie choking reader. fingering (r!receiving) thigh riding (r!receiving). Ellie’s a meany and Reader is dumb asf.

summary :

You didn’t know how it happened. How you and Ellie Williams ended up by being alone in the bathroom. How her hands were everywhere on you while your lips were glued to hers. How you moaned in her mouth when her tongue danced with yours. How you were rocking your hips to catch some friction to her knee that was between your thighs.

It was supposed to be a stupid game.

You were drinking your favourite drink. Something you preferred in all the alcohol on the drink table. You came with your best friend Dina, but she kinda disappeared in her current situationship with Jesse.

These two were glued on eachothers, drunk and completely unaware of the others that was around them. You were also invisible to everyone now. All alone and you were observing everyone dancing, making out, smoking and doing some crazy shit.

You tried to walk towards the bathroom when someone bumped in your shoulder.

“hey! look where your going, cunt” Ellie shout at you, completely high, red eyes and flushed cheeks. She probably just had sex with someone- it was the kind of person she was. Having one night stand with her little fan girls and forgetting their names the day after. But in some way they didn’t care less, they won in some kind of way, and honestly acted like they did. But in a way, they did won, it was Ellie, Ellie fucking Williams.

“I beg your pardon?” you shout back. Ellie was always mean with you. You never understood why, she was flirting or kind and funny with everyone else, but you. so you hated her too.

“you heard me” and she rolled her eyes at you.

you hated when people would disrespect you, and it made you always angrier with ellie.

you walked closer to ellie, wanting to look intimidating, but somehow she was a little bit taller than you- just like an inch, but you couldn’t overpower her, not when her eyes were piercing into your soul with a venom that would make you incapable to look away even if you wanted to. You just stared at her, like she wasn’t insulting you in the first place.

“take a picture, itll take longer” Ellie said as she stepped closer to you, like she waited something from you. You scoffed and walked off, not wanting to start a fight again with her.

An hour later, Someone screamed ‘7 IN HEAVEN’ and now around of 15 people were in a circle in a random piece with a bottle in the middle of it. many rounds went on as people were going 7 minutes in a bathroom with the person the bottle pointed at. You obviously didn’t want to play but Dina’s drunk ass made you sat in it. After the duo came out of the bathroom, another round started and it was Ellie’s turn. She looked annoyed and probably Dina made her play that game too. You hated that your best friend was also best friend with someone you hated more than everything.

Ellie grabbed the bottle and turned it. Her veiny hands made it impossible to not look at her and her hands and her lips and- ‘what the fuck’ you thought, wanting to get rid of your drunk state.

Without even realizing, the bottle ended on you. Obviously it did, the future is so fucking predictable.

“Hell no.” Ellie said in a stern voice and everyone got mad at her which caused her to go in the bathroom waiting for you because she couldn’t stand others thinking she couldn’t go in. You followed her, stressing as your anxiety was making millions of scenarios in your mind.

You got in the bathroom and closed the door. Ellie was sitting on the floor, on her phone. You sat- the furthest you could in that tiny piece. You looked at her, trying to read her mind, but she was like a grave whose name got erased by the wind and rain. She was a mystery and you could never figure how she could feel or her mood. If she was happy and joking around, she still could be mean and could easily get mad. If she was mad, she still could do jokes and make others laugh or whatever the fuck, her emotions were always mixed.

You find yourself, again, staring at her. For the third time today, your eyes would always end up on her figure since you two got that close after ages. Last time it happened, ellie tried to kiss you, but you refused. Which now you always wonder what would’ve happened if you accepted it or if you told her you had a crush on her and didnt want to be a sex toy for her.

Which now you wonder every night what would’ve happened if you let her use you.

“Why do you hate me?” you asked her

Ellie lifted her eyes away from her phone to look at you. The tension was so high she looked like she wanted to kill you. She could, just by lifting her pinky finger. She could also manipulate you, manage to do something with your brain to torture you until the end of the time.

“You’re another specimen yn.” Ellie answered and got back to her phone. She irritated you so much.

“what?” you asked, confused. your drunken state made you so much dumb than you already were.

“you have no idea why? that’s literally fucking pathetic.”

“you’re pathetic to hate me for something so small i dont even know what i did to you.” you spat back, being furious at her mean comments.

Ellie let go of her phone as she stood up, you did the same, not wanting her to gain power over you- as you had any..

Ellie checked you out- her eyes looking up and down at you, as she was gonna eat your soul. Maybe she already was.

“Wait- is it because of that time where i rejected you?” You asked her, a smirk growing on your lips as you saw her jaw clenching and her usual ‘mad’ loud breathing. You finally could read her. You hurt her ego.

“Aww, Ellie, i didnt know a refuse of a simple little kiss could hurt that ego of yours so mu-” And before you could finish your sentence, ellie’s fingers were around your throat, tighten it as you felt that you didn’t have enough air to breathe

“you shut the fuck up or i swear to god you’ll regret it”

Even though she was hurting you- as fucked up you were, she looked so fine and it turned you on.

“Or what Ellie? You’re gonna kill me or finish what you didn’t start?” You told her as your fuzzy and drunken mind wasn’t even thinking and saying shit you absolutely would never say. Her grip around your throat loosened and she grabbed your shirt to pull you closer to her as she kissed you- not letting you time to reject her again- as if you wanted yo.

You quickly returned the kiss and held her closer by the neck. Her hands going on your back as they made their way on your hips, making you closer to her as if it was even possible. Your chest glued to eachothers and kissing noises with the far music of the party playing was so intoxicating and so intense.

Its when you didn’t know how it happened as her fingers got into your pants and your underwear searing for the place you needed her most. “Els..” You looked at her, whining at the need of her. “What? Use your words, slut, i cant read your stupid mind” She was making you going over the edge. “please… i-i need you” She smirked and entered a finger in you as her thumb played with your clit. Her lips everywhere on your neck, kissing the bruises she left after her hands were left as your new favourite necklace. At least you were oblivious enough for her to not realize how much you loved it when she did it. You were moaning against her, small whimpers leaving your opened lips. You wanted yet more.

“Ellie- fuck… Please!” She was torturing you at this point, going painfully slow as your clit was burning. She wasnt giving you enough, it was only painful because you almost couldnt feel anything- you needed more.

“Shh, i know, i know. Hold on yeah? can you do this for me- shit”

Her raspy voice could make you cum right there, right now.

You nodded as you literally became to ride her fingers, becoming louder and louder against her ear. your face hiding in the crock of her neck, as you were holding yourself on her shoulders, trying your best to ride yourself on her, trying to reach your peak with her finger inside of you.

“You shut up- or you want everyone to hear how much of a fucking slut you are, just for me”

“mhm..” Is all you could master. You bit your lips trying to hold in your moans, your moans of how good and how skilled her fingers felt against you.

“Fuck yn, Youre so wet, so fucking wet for me”

You could only nod in response, she was fucking you dumb like the dumbest person you were. drunken by not only alcohol, but how her words made your mind dizzy and how her fingers made you feel so lightheaded. She was just like a dream.

“say it, say its for me”

“it- its just for you els… ‘m wet just for you.. mh!”

And this is how you ended up in her room, her strap ponding fast and deep into you as she was making you cum for the 5th time tonight, the day afterwords you waking up alone, her ignoring you at school- more than she ever did.

not even mean comments about you, absolutely nothing.

You couldnt help but wanting for more. Couldn’t cum on your own as she completely destroyed you.

:)

#ellie williams #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #ellie fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x y/n #wlw smut #wlw post #wlw ns/fw #party #after party #sexy chick #toxic relationship #mean girls #music #one shot #dream #dangerously yours #all for the game #partying #bathroom #hot as fuck #Spotify

[starriluvs]

Jealous

———————————— Shidou Ryusei x Reader

Prompt: Clingy and slightly jealous Shidou, need i say more.

————————————

Shidou Ryusei.

You could conjure up a thousand nicknames just at the sound of his name.

Demon. Crazy. Possibly dropped as a baby, and many more that would (should) have sent someone like him recoiling in annoyance.

You’d met his kind countless times before- especially back during middle school, when the influx of wannabe gangster assholes came rolling in.

Brash, loud, brazen-tongued. All cut from the same cloth.

Though they acted tough, posing as if posessing demi-god like strength and pride, you’d easily learned how to deal with them over time.

Usually, the creative titles you’d given them had been more than enough to bruise their egos.

So, why was Shidou different?

At first glance, he’d seemed just like what you had expected. You had already been mentally preparing yourself-just from the devilish grin he constantly possessed on his face.

Though, if it did count for anything, you didn’t find yourself hating his creative choices.

Be it the hot pink fade in his hair, or the seemingly permanent eyeliner he wore. A tattoo, you assumed.

You were surprised when you caught yourself sparing glances his way.

You shrugged it off, classifying it as simple ‘observation’ of what his character would be like. Even if it was out of behaviour for you.

Once, Shidou had caught you staring. He’d responded with an animated tilt of his head, that same smile on his face. Only now, it was sent your way.

You wanted to punch yourself for getting embarrassed then, a weird feeling in your chest having blossomed when he’d grinned.

But, you couldnt say you were surprised when you witnessed the boy attempt to send Igaguri to heaven (perhaps hell) with an axe kick.

You’d facepalmed then, resisting the urge to find amusement in the scene.

And somehow, for whatever reason, you found yourself wanting to know more.

—————————-

You took your unspoken words back as soon as you saw the troublemaker approach.

You gulped, hoping to act as nonchalant as possible as you fiddled around with the ball.

‘Just avoid eye contact. Maybe he’s not even here for you.’ Were the words repeating over and over as you played around with the ball.

You hoped your words were true. Maybe Shidou was just focused on someone behind you-

You turned your head around, face dropping when you remembered you were at the end of the field.

You looked around, positively frowning when you noticed no one else in the vicinity besides you, and the eager looking boy coming over.

Wait. You looked around frantically. Where did he go-

‘Hey. What’s your deal?’

You nearly jumped hearing the low, teasing voice coming close from your right. Your heartbeat quickened- from being caught off guard. Not from anything else, surely.

You looked at the faux demon in clear confusion, head tilted the slightest bit. A nonchalant expression on your face.

‘What?’ You said simply.

At your one-worded response, you saw the boy’s sharp features change to a pointed look. One eyebrow raised, looking down at you as if to say ‘dont give me bullshit.’

‘What do you mean, what?’ He retorted. ‘All those looks you’ve been giving me. What, got a problem?’ The boy nearly sneered, showing sharp canines.

Oh. So that was what this was about.

Well, you couldnt exactly tell him the reason for your constant glances was due to ‘curiosity’. That would have been embarassing.

And so, you simply shrugged. ‘Meh.’ You muttered disinterestedly.

At this, he surprisingly slouched the slightest bit, face morphing into a childish frown. ‘Meh?’ He exaggerated, leaning closer.

‘Come on.’ Shidou urged impatiently, frowning as you looked away in ignorance.

He was met with silence.

Shidou crossed his arms at that, huffing. ‘Hey. Stop ignoring me, you little fox.’ He snarked. Though, if he was trying to sound intimidating, he’d failed miserably. You heard the pout in his voice.

At the nickname, you felt a rise of amusement at how random it was. You nearly laughed, turning to him.

‘Little fox?’ You inquired curiously.

The boy shrugged. ‘What? Youre shorter than me-‘

‘Barely.’ You quickly retorted.

‘Barely still counts.’ Shidou corrected, pink eyes narrowed in amusement. ‘And i dont exactly know your name.’

You deadpanned at him after that, a bored expression on your face. ‘We’re literally in the same team. How do you not know my name-‘

Your voice was cut off by the rough callous of a hand slapping your shoulder, as if in friendly greeting. Shidou sighed deeply- probably for dramatic effect, as he laughed.

‘Always so serious, aren’t ya, y/n?’ He smirked. ‘Just wanted to humor you a little.’

Ah. You truly couldnt help the small laugh that left your lips.

‘Yeah. Whatever you say.’ You’d sighed.

Then, was the start of a new friendship. A truly chaotic one at that.

————————————-

Over time, you’d come to learn what kind of person Shidou was.

Touchy.

Whenever you two were together- which was always; considering how often the boy trailed after you, he’d always have his hands on you in some way.

Mostly on your shoulders.

After each game, you’d learned to steady yourself for the heavy, sudden weight of Shidou jumping on you.

You’d fallen the first time, completely unprepared as you’d lain in a dizzy trance.

He’d laughed in response. Unpredictable as always, his hands had met your torso as he’d picked you up- albeit not in the most gentle of ways.

Shidou had chaotically seated you atop his shoulders, gaining a confused sound out of you as youd looked down at him.

You wouldve been lying if you said you werent the tiniest bit flustered.

‘If you cant handle my weight,’ He’d started off.

Moving his head upwards to look at you, he’d said. ‘Then i guess we’ll just have to reverse the roles for now, huh?’

You shook the memory away as you brought yourself back to present time. You sighed, recognising the familiar feel of Shidou’s arm around your shoulders.

‘You’re pretty clingy, yknow that?’ You said on impulse.

At that, the arm around you only moved closer. ‘Running your mouth as per-fucking-usual.’ Shidou laughed.

His face now close to yours, he asked. ‘Besides, how am i clingy?’

You deadpanned at him after that.

As if oblivious, Shidou continued following you around after that. To the field, dining hall, the dorms, etc. You didnt mind all too much-surprisingly.

Perhaps you could even say you liked it.

You shook your head at the thought, prompting a slightly confused out of Reo.

The two of you were sitting in the monitoring room, rewatching some of the previous matches (and totally not gossipping).

The atmosphere was comfortable, but- you couldnt help but feel as though something was missing.

You pondered, not being able to put a finger on just what it was.

‘What’s up?’ Reo asked curiously, shifting his weight to his propped up arm.

‘I dont know. It feels like somethings.. off.’ You said with uncertainty.

Reo tilted his head at that, squinting. ‘Off? In what way?’

You shrugged. ‘Not in a bad way. Just, feels like somethings missing?-‘

You were abruptly cut off by the sound of the door opening. Both you and Reo turned your heads curiously. Seeing the tall silhouette immediately reminded you of who it was.

Shidou.

At the sight of you, he grinned and immediately ran over. The blonde sat next to you, already putting an arm around your shoulders.

He smiled contently in a cat-like manner. ‘Hey, y/n.’ Shidou grinned, showing his sharp canines. You’d always thought they looked cool (especially so on him).

You couldnt help but sigh in response, a small smile appearing. ‘Hey, Shidou.’

At the mention of his last name, he frowned. ‘Come on, i think we’re way past last name basis!’ You heard the pout in his voice.

You sighed dramatically. ‘Fine, Ryusei.’ You took note of the way Shidou’s face immediately lit up. Like how a kid’s would when receiving a present on Chiristmas.

Except, you remembered how greatly Shidou loathed Santa.

Reo was simply watching the scene. Seeing the interest in his violet eyes, you suppressed the urge to raise a brow at him.

Shidou leaned his head close to your shoulder, seemingly ignoring the other’s presence. ‘So, what were you doing here anyway?’

The heir on your other side answered before you could open your mouth. ‘We were just watching some of the matches together.’ Reo shrugged.

Hearing this, the blonde pulled you closer, seeming to glare at your lilac-headed friend.

‘I wasn’t asking you.’ He snarked, pink eyes narrowed as they bore into Reo.

The Mikage, who had noticed Shidou’s somewhat protective nature towards you, was suddenly met with an idea.

He smirked, tilting his head. ‘Oh, but we’re in the same room, are we not? Besides, i was sure you would’ve loved to hear more about me and y/n’s day.’

You wondered just where the hell he was going with this, an eyebrow quirking in piqued interest- and confusion.

‘You know,’ He continued. ‘Two friends, hanging out for a long time, in a room together. Alone.’ Reo lulled.

Shidou seemed to stiffen beside you. Turning your head, you saw what may have possibly been the nastiest glare you’d ever seen out of him.

He made a ‘tch’ sound, sharp eyes once again narrowed in what appeared to be jealousy- and definite annoyance.

All directed towards Reo.

You gave him a side glance, warning him to run while he could.

And then, Shidou smirked. The smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Oh.

Reo was definitely in for it now.

—————————————

You’d managed to prevent a death today. What a good samaritan, am i right?

You’d somehow managed to convince your best friend that whatever Reo had implied was not true. The two of you had been gossiping all day long!

Whatever ‘plan’ the Mikage had conjured up had been as shitty as Alexis Ness’ meat-riding. Or maybe worse.

Walking back now, you sighed.

‘I’m assuming you were planning to murder Reo before i stepped in?’ You quirked, turning to Shidou with a raised brow.

He grinned in response. ‘Not planning. I was about to.’ The blonde stated proudly.

You sighed exasperatedly. ‘Like that’s any better.’ You ran a hand over your face.

‘Why were you so mad anyway?’

The boy scowled, putting his hands in his pockets.

‘I didnt like whatever he was talking about.’ He scoffed. ‘I shouldve beat his ass once he started implying a romantic pre-tense between the two of you.’ Shidou pretended to gag, clearly annoyed.

Oh.

So that was what this was about.

You wondered why you’d seen jealousy in his eyes, and now you definitely knew why.

You contained your laughter, turning to face Shidou in amusement. ‘Oh, so you were jealous?’ You teased lightly.

The blonde froze the slightest bit, before laughing. A little too hard. ‘No way!’ He scoffed, turning his face away.

That didnt stop you from noticing the slight tinge on his face.

Ex-fucking-sposed.

You inched closer, full on grinning now. ‘You definitely were, Ryusei. And frankly, i think its pretty cute.’

You didnt know where your new-found boldness came from, but you sure as hell werent complaining when you saw the tips of Shidou’s ears turn a shade darker.

————————————

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #bllk scenario #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock scenario #blue lock imagines #blue lock fic #Bllk fic #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #shidou bllk x reader #shidou ryusei fluff #shidou x you #shidou x y/n

[astroboots]

RED FLAGS ║ PART 10

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader x Marc Spector (x hints of Jake Lockley)

Summary: You and Steven try to get used to your new life together without Marc. Or alternatively: Marc is playing (the not ridiculous and totally mature version of) Hide and Seek.

Content: mild angst, implied mentions of child abuse (blink and miss it), reminiscing about fish death, otherwise quite tame for me.

Word Count: 10,000 words

Series Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[PREVIOUS] - [NEXT]

You

Steven and I were at a bookstore today and I saw a very grumpy pug that reminded me of you. 

Steven wants a dog now. If you don’t want that you need to come back because I’m not gonna stop him.

Weeks have passed since Steven’s prodigal return.

It’s almost been a return to how things were before, with Steven picking you up from work, occasional romantic dinners out, and evenings cuddled up in bed reading together or watching documentaries on the sofa. 

It’s almost perfect. 

It ought to be perfect. 

The only thing missing from your previous routine is waking up to the quiet noise of clutter in the kitchen and the smell of breakfast filling the room, to Marc.

Your intuition had been correct: Marc is avoiding you. Despite the fact that you’ve practically moved into Steven’s flat, you’ve not seen him once.

According to Steven, Marc still fronts in the middle of the night sometimes, but to do what, you don’t know. It’s one more thing Steven “can’t tell you right now” because it’s Marc’s business. And as frustrating as that is, you don’t push—at least, not with Steven. 

Instead, you’ve focused your energy on attempting to lure Marc out. Texting him at random times of the day. Cluttering up the space, leaving yours and Steven’s clothes in random spaces, putting the dishes away in the wrong order—things you know will drive him mad.

You’ve even tried staying up all night in hopes of catching Marc in the act, but the only thing you caught was sleep deprivation. It’s left you exhausted and cranky in the morning, mistake-prone at work and ready to bite everyone’s head off. 

Recognizing the futility of continuing to bash your head against the wall of Marc’s stubbornness, you’ve reluctantly settled into the new status quo while you consider what to do. 

Tonight you and Steven are staying in. The rain is pouring down outside, making London wet and miserable, but you’re safely ensconced in the warmth of Steven’s flat, propped up in bed while he sits nearby in his worn leather armchair, reading glasses perched adorably on his nose as he peruses a thick tome. 

But for once, his studies don’t seem to be capable of holding his attention, and you keep glancing up to find him staring off into space, brow furrowed, the book abandoned in his lap. 

The first time you followed his gaze to the fish tank, you’d felt a stab of worry that you’d find Gus II floating belly-up in the water, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary that you can see. 

The orange goldfish is swimming across the length of the tank, happily oblivious to his predecessor’s fate and the fact that he’s being observed.  The journey continues until his little fishy head bumps up against the glass panel, and he turns around, repeating the process in reverse, only to do the same thing on the other side. 

It’s hardly a riveting sight, but Steven seems entirely engrossed. He looks a million miles away, lost in his thoughts. 

“Do you think,” he says eventually, “that goldfish ever get lonely?”

“Oh, um…” You blink at him, a bit startled by the soft question, though you’re not sure why. It’s hardly the first time Steven has expressed concern about the wellbeing of an animal—he’s a vegan after all—and you’ve seen him beside himself while watching a killer whale hunt down baby seals on an arctic beach on Animal Planet. 

This feels different somehow.

“I’m not sure actually,” you hedge, wracking your brain for a proper answer, “I know guinea pigs get lonely and are meant to be kept in pairs, but I don’t really know if the same is true of fish.” 

Steven nods solemnly, and turns back to the fishtank, eyes wide and melancholy, an unhappy slump to his shoulders. 

Watching him watch Gus II’s lonely, pointless vigil back and forth, you wonder if it’s Marc that Steven’s thinking about now. 

If he feels lonely, having effectively lost his newly revealed other half again so soon after discovering the truth. 

If he misses Marc the way you–

You shake the thought away, taking a deep breath before you hold up your phone to catch his attention.

“Shall I google it?”

Steven immediately brightens up. Quickly marking his place in the book, he sets it aside and makes his way over to join you on the bed so you can google it together.

‘Do goldfish get lonely?’

Unfortunately, no matter how many pages of results you scroll though, there doesn’t seem to be any strong consensus. 

Several websites are adamant that goldfish do not feel loneliness and can live a long and happy and fulfilling life alone. But there seem to be just as many saying the opposite. An article from the Telegraph strongly admonishes its readers that goldfish should be kept in pairs at least when in captivity.

Eventually, your hour-long Google bender finally ends with you two reaching the unsatisfactory conclusion of: ‘nobody knows for sure.’

You put away your phone on the nightstand and glance at Steven. He’s staring up at the fishtank again, wringing his hands in a way that makes your chest tighten. Somehow he seems even more unsettled than before.

“You know,” you point out hopefully, “nothing we found says that having a companion would make a goldfish unhappy as long as they have enough space. And your tank is certainly large enough for two.”

When Steven doesn’t reply, you prod gently, “Would you maybe like to get Gus the Second a friend?”

At that, the tension Steven is holding finally seems to thaw, his shoulders relaxing as he turns to you.

“That’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” he says, face alight with a small, soft smile.

You

FYI we did not get robbed yesterday. Steven tried to make dinner. He’s going to try again tonight. I know you hate messes so you might want to come back to stop him. 

For two men who share half of their lives with each other, there’s a distinct lack of physical evidence of Marc in Steven’s flat.

Of the hundreds of books crammed into every nook and cranny of the wooden shelves sprawled across the flat, not a single one belongs to him. The messy closet filled only with Steven’s garish patterns and oversized items. In fact, Steven's personality and interests are writ large within this space—in the half-scribbled notes left on the desk, the postcards tacked on all random surfaces, the organised chaos that seems to reign. It’s obvious that this is Steven’s home.

But is it Marc’s?  

You’ve yet to identify a single item in the entire flat that belongs to him. No proof of address. Nothing.

Now that you no longer wake up to him standing in the kitchen most mornings, pottering around in that quiet calm way of his, it’s almost like he never existed in the first place. 

You hate it.

You look down at the handful of mismatched flatware you’ve just put back in the drawer then back up at Steven where he stands at the sink next to you, elbow deep in lukewarm dishwater.

Even the dishes are Steven’s.

“Does Marc have another flat?” you ask, unsettled by the idea that Marc might have another home that you know nothing about.

“Don’t think so,” Steven says, glancing up from the plate he’s scrubbing, “Why?”

“He doesn’t seem to have any belongings here. I was wondering if he kept his things somewhere else.”

“He’s got a storage unit. I’ve been there once. Marc had a sad little cot setup there. Not much in the way of belongings there either. I don’t think he owns much,” he says, rinsing the plate clean.

You stare down at the tea towel, twisting it in your hands, and your stomach twists with it.

A storage unit. 

With a cot. 

That’s even worse, isn't it? To think that Marc might not have a home anywhere at all.

And now he’s retreating farther than ever. Ceding the daytime hours, and even most nights to Steven. Keeping nothing for himself. Your lives wiped clean of traces of Marc, the same way the flat has been. 

You feel sick at the thought.

Steven doesn’t say anything more, and you don’t either. The two of you work in silence, as he washes the dishes and hands them off to you to dry and then put away in the cupboards—a bowl, another plate, a sharp knife, and then a large plain ceramic mug.

Marc’s mug.

As Steven hands it to you, you have a flash of Marc taking it from your hands, full to the brim of the coffee you made for him. The memory of his quiet “thanks” makes your heart hurt.

Christ, get it together. You’re getting soppy over a bloody tea cup, for God’s sake.

It doesn’t even really qualify as Marc’s, despite being the only one amongst Steven’s collection of mugs without a quirky motif. Marc never claimed ownership of it in any way. 

Shaking your head, you walk to the cabinet and tuck the mug back up into its usual spot. As you lower your arm, the old coffee maker in the corner of the counter catches your eye, gleaming in the light of the kitchen. 

It looks... remarkably clean, which, for anything in Steven's flat, is an oddity in itself. You haven’t made coffee in weeks—not since before Marc disappeared—but the glass practically shines. Reaching out, you swipe a fingertip against the top surface and frown as it comes away dust-free. 

“Steven, have you been using the coffee maker lately?” 

“Hmm?” He turns around, arms sudsed with dishwater up to his elbow. “No, not for years. Had to stop drinking coffee ‘cause it made me jittery—or, well, worse than I am already. Why do you ask?”

“The coffee maker’s clean. There's no dust on it at all.” 

Steven hums in reply, looking like he's deep in thought. 

“That’s probably Marc’s doing. He drinks coffee sometimes when he’s up running around in the middle of the night, I think.” 

You nod in response, your finger lingering over the button panel. 

Does this old coffee maker qualify as something of Marc’s? Perhaps there is one thing that belongs to him in the flat after all.

It’s pretty banged up. The paint is chipped, and the control panel scratched up to the point that the labels are mostly worn away. It hadn’t mattered before, as all you’d needed to know was to push the first button—the ‘ON’ button, you suppose, though the lettering has long since worn away—to start the coffee brewing, but now you stare at the thing, trying to decipher the rest of the labels. 

“What does this button do?” you ask, pointing to the second button. It reads 'lay b ew' which makes no bloody sense. 

Steven turns off the running tap, putting down the wet plate in his hand, and comes to stand behind you where he can peek over your shoulder at the button you’ve indicated. 

“That must be the delay timer button so you can set the coffee pot at night for the morning.”

You peer into the open cupboard. Instead of the mug you’ve just put away and the drab cupboard, all you can see is Marc is sitting by the counter. The faint morning sun streaming down his wide shoulders as he tips the mug to his lips and takes a sip. An echo of warmth tingles against your fingertip at the faded scene playing out in your memory. 

You lean up until you’re on your toes and take the mug, cradling it in your hands. “Do you think perhaps I could set it to make the coffee for Marc? I used to make him coffee in the mornings when we had breakfast together.”

Steven smiles at you, soft crinkles forming around his eyes. “Of course, love. I think Marc would like that a lot.” 

Buoyed by his encouragement, you grab the coffee from the top shelf, reciting the water-to-coffee ratio in your head—one scoop of coffee for each ounce of water. 

Reaching for the spoon you start scooping it out, smiling a little to yourself as you imagine Marc discovering the coffee you’ve made just for him. 

“Love, love!” Steven half-shouts, “What are you doing?”

You stop mid-scoop, look from Steven’s face, down at the mound of ground coffee in the filter, and then back up at him. Steven looks horrified, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and genuine concern. 

“Making... coffee...?” you answer hesitantly, “Is this not right? I’ve always done it like this. This is how Marc drinks it.”

“I'm pretty sure no one in their right mind drinks coffee like that,” Steven says, eyes still wide, though amusement is creeping into his voice now.

You stop and frown. 

You look back down at the packet of coffee beans as you think of Marc's fingers wrapped around the handle of the mug as he took it from you. The way he’d give you a small almost-smile, looking right at home as he finished the coffee you made him down to the last drop. 

“Oh.” 

You

I’ve made you some coffee using the delay brew setting. It should be ready when you get up.

Steven has informed me that my coffee is in fact not drinkable. If he's right, you might need to come back and teach me how to make coffee properly. 

It becomes another part of your nightly routine: prepping the coffee maker and setting out Marc's mug. You still sometimes have trouble remembering the proper (according to Steven!) water to coffee ratio, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Regardless of how much or little ground coffee you add, in the morning, without fail, you find the coffee maker empty, mug and carafe both propped up in the dishrack to dry.

You're standing at the counter one Saturday morning, tucking them both back into their proper places, when you get a text from your old mate Sam.

Sam

hey fam! guess what!

You

?

Sam

guess!!!

You

Guess… what?

Sam

🤨 nvm

You

Sorry, what?

Sam

really making me work for it huh

remember my mate karim?

You

No?

Sam

🐠🐠🐠 guy?

You

Oh yeah! ofc.

Sam

he just got in a one-finned goldfish like your bf was asking for. he still want it?

Steven gives you a curious tilt of his head as he reads out part of the conversation out loud when you show him the exchange. “Fish, fish, fish... guy?” 

“Yeah. He has a bunch of tanks in his cellar. It’s how we got,”—you gesture vaguely at the tank containing Gus II—“this one.”

“Oh, right. You did say.” 

His expression turns from confusion to a bright expression, like someone’s turned on a cartoon lightbulb behind his eyes. 

“I was just thinking that I did want to get Gus a friend after all,” he says smiling enthusiastically. “Right proper bit of good timing, that is!” 

Steven tilts his head to the other side, as his eyes flit across the screen like he’s rereading it, then his eyes narrow in confusion. “What does he mean by your boyfriend asking for a one-finned goldfish?”

You eye the fish as it circles the water gracefully, both fins on full display, and recall Marc's constipated expression as he had stood by the tank glaring at those very two fins. 

“Marc made a big fuss about wanting to find one identical to Gus,” you tell him, as you watch Gus II knock his head up against the glass again, “down to the single fin, and I guess my friend remembered.”

From across you, Steven's gaze is fixed on the tank with a slight frown on this face. He's observing the golden fish with a vacant look in his eyes like he's watching it but not seeing it.

“You all right, Steven?”

“Yeah, I'm just...” His eyes flicker across the length of the tank, then he turns back to face you, “What I don't understand is why Marc didn’t just leave Gus’ little fishy corpse floating in the tank.” 

He turns back around to face you, as he continues, “It certainly would’ve been easier. And a dead fish is more believable than one regrowing a fin, isn’t it? Pets die all the time. I might not have realised anything was off at all if he'd done that.”

It's the very same thing you’d told Marc the night he had come to you for help. 

You can still remember the way he had looked standing at your door, asking for your help, hair in an uncharacteristic disarray of curls. How besides himself he was with worry for Steven’s sake.   

“Marc didn't want you to be upset,” you say. 

Steven looks up at your words, eyes widening with surprise. 

“He knew how much Gus meant to you, and wanted to protect you from being hurt,” you continue, “That mattered to him more than anything else, I think.”

There’s a brief silence as Steven processes your words, then after a moment he lets out a quiet huff of laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“It’s hard to imagine Marc behaving like a parent trying to get a replacement hamster from the shop,” Steven says, giving you a wry smile, “But that’s him, isn’t it?  Wanting to protect the people that matter to him at all costs. Even from things we don’t really need protecting from.”

Neither of you say anything for a few moments after that, as the sound of the Blue Planet rerun on the telly fills the silence left behind. You vaguely register Attenborough’s soothing narration in the background, but don’t take anything in when Steven eventually asks, “When do you think you’ll go meet your friend?” 

“He said he was free pretty much all day today, I was thinking of heading off soon, before traffic gets too bad in the afternoon.” 

Steven gets to his feet and walks over to his desk, picking up his jacket that's been slung over the back of the chair and threading his arms into the sleeves. Watching him, you half expect him to make the same assessment his grouchy alter did: Men who keep fishes in their cellar are dangerous serial killers. 

Instead, Steven flashes you a sweet and benign smile. 

“All right if I come along with you? I can keep you company, yeah? I know how much you hate the DLR,” he says, glancing at you for approval, and you give a quick nod.

“Besides,” he adds, eyes bright with enthusiastic wonder, like a kid who's heading off on a school trip, “I'm quite curious about the cellar aquarium. Sounds like quite the sight, and I’d like to see it with my own eyes."

You break into a smile of your own. Two men that couldn’t be further apart, and yet even with diametrically opposed reasoning, the end result is still somehow the same. 

------

It's just before noon when you reach the DLR station with Steven in tow. Thankfully the crowd is nowhere near as bad as the last time you made this trip. 

Still, when you enter the train, most seats are already taken. The only unoccupied spot is splattered with something unpleasant-looking, so you and Steven head down the carriage in the opposite direction. You’re lucky enough to score yourself a safety rail to hold onto just as the DLR starts its bumpy journey. 

As always, the train undulates like a boa constrictor that’s managed to get into the liquor cabinet. But this time you manage to keep your footing as the carriage lurches forward by gripping the railing for dear-fucking-life. 

Steven isn't quite as lucky. 

You barely catch the panicked “bugger” as he starts to lose his balance, about to tip over like a helpless tortoise, and you reach out without thinking, grabbing one of his flailing hands so he doesn’t fall.

“Are you all right there, Steven?” you ask, straining to hold your position as he uses you for leverage to steady himself, and then wrapping your arm around his waist once he regains his equilibrium. 

“Yeah…” he mumbles, blinking at you for a moment, a flush tinting his cheeks, “Yeah, I’m aces. Thanks for the rescue.” 

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flimmer erratically, and wraps his hand around the same railing you’re holding onto, fingers warm where they overlap yours. 

“You’re welcome, but let’s stay like this until we get there just in case.” you say, wrapping your arm more firmly around him and snuggling into his chest. You can’t see his face but you can feel his head nod in approval.

Steven’s free hand comes up to settle over your back between your shoulders, holding you tight to him, the two of you steadying each other as the train keeps swaying forward. Even though his palm is resting over your coat, you swear you can feel his warmth through three layers of clothing.

You press your nose to the fabric of his jacket, inhaling the scent of him.  He smells like his soap, the clean linens of your shared bed, and beneath that, a hint of coffee. The last one familiar these days, lingering like smoke after an extinguished fire, and it always makes you think of Marc. Irrefutable proof that he still exists in the world, even if he only ventures out into it after you fall asleep.

It’s a bumpy ride, but eventually the train slows to a stop at ‘Canning Town’ station. Just like last time, you find yourself thinking that it's almost a shame your journey on the DLR wasn't longer. 

Unlike last time, a bright clear sun is shining down on you when you step out of the train, mitigating some of the November chill.

Steven’s hand curls over yours, tucking both into his pocket, and you’re glad for the added warmth as the two of you walk down the Docks, along the mismatch of newly built high-rise flats and small brick row-houses. 

As you reach the familiar council estate, you spot Sam and his friends waving towards you from across the street, and Steven waves back, like they're old friends already. He’s already taking a step forward to cross at the traffic light, when you suddenly remember that despite the familiarity this will be the first time Sam and Karim meet Steven. 

“Wait,” you hiss, flinging a hand out to grip his forearm, “They think you're Marc,” you warn, and Steven nods slowly with understanding on his face. 

“Right,” he says, flashing you a cheeky grin, “So, emotionally constipated, perpetually frowning, and just generally a complete prat? Got it.”

His fingers come to his forehead, slicking back his hair with a touch of dramatic flair. Then he furrows his brows theatrically, lips pulling downwards into an exaggerated imitation of Marc’s frown, and you have to hide your grin as you turn to walk.

Crossing the street, Steven is visibly holding himself back. He’s pulling himself upright, as he juts his chin up in a brusque greeting, while schooling his features and tampering down the smile that you know is twitching at his lips. It’s a very commendable effort on his part. 

But the moment you make it inside the house, and Steven catches sight of the hall lined with aquariums, his mock-frown falls away and his eyes widen with wonder. That uncharacteristic straight line of his lips, rounds with an audible, “wow” that slips out of him. Then he's all toothy smiles and excitement as he points to a particular colourful fish that glitters behind the glass of one of the numerous fish tanks. 

You watch as he waves at the fish, and then turns around to Karim to ask a half-dozen more animated questions that the man answers with gusto. 

Steven spends the whole time listening attentively as Karim gives a guided tour of his fish cellar, nodding along with undivided attentiveness as his eyes track the colourful fishes that are being introduced to him one by one.

The stark difference between Steven's and Marc’s behaviour doesn't go unnoticed. 

“Your boyfriend’s like a completely different person today,” Sam remarks. “He's so… ” 

He pauses mid-sentence, and hums consideringly as he observes Steven with an amused smile. 

“I get it now, what you said last time—a big softie.”

Down the row of tanks, Steven is pointing excitedly at a puffy looking fish. It must be a rare one, judging from how elated he is. Despite the fact that Steven is absolutely blowing your cover, you can't help but smile fondly at his obvious excitement and joy. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he really is,” you answer, as you feel a prickling warmth spread across your chest. 

“So tell me,” Sam says as he grips his jaw in his hand, scratching his beard like a ponderous professor, “Which one is the real him?”

You freeze at the question, not sure how you can even begin to answer that. 

Glancing over at Steven, you still see him wide-eyed and smiling, hovering over the very same goldfish tank that Marc was gruffly standing by as he was inspecting it studiously with a set frown for a replacement fish. 

You give Sam the only answer that rings true to you:

 “They both are.”

-----

Surely, you must be stuck in some kind of 80’s Sci-fi movie, because you seem to be trapped in a closed loop of deja-vus. 

You're standing in the middle of Steven's flat, once again with a plastic bag in hand as you scoop (what is this time, a one-finned) goldfish into the large fish tank. 

It lands with a distinct plop into the water, and then swims down with a pirouette around Gus II. 

Steven is standing next to you by the tank, so close you’re shoulder to shoulder, huddled together, hunched over the glass, close enough for your noses to leave fog on the surface as you observe the two fishes dance around each other to become acquainted. 

It all feels so similar that, when you feel his shoulder brush up against yours and that familiar pleasant tingle climbs up your back, you have to remind yourself that this time the person standing next to you is Steven, not Marc. 

Turning your head, you look over at Steven who's watching the fishes intently. When he notices you staring, he slowly turns to you and smiles, eyes crinkling softly, and the joy of it lights up your chest. 

You

We visited Sam and Karim again. 

Say hi to Gus III. He’s the one with one fin. 

Steven got very excited after seeing the fish cellar and is thinking of getting a second tank. 

If you don't come back, I'll let him. 

It's six pm and you’re in a hurry to get out of the office. Steven had texted earlier, asking if you wanted to try the new sushi place that opened up down the block tonight, and you are starving.

Exiting the elevator, you look around for Steven, surprised when you don’t immediately spot him. He almost always comes to pick you up now, even when you don’t have dinner plans. Perhaps he’s running late?

Susan must notice your confusion, because she catches your eye and waves you over.

“Over there, pet,” she says, pointing towards the front of the building, “Said he had to talk to someone.”

You follow her finger to see your wayward boyfriend standing with his back to you in the far corner of the reception area, phone held to his ear. The early dark outside has turned the wall of glass at the front of the building into an imperfect mirror, and you smile watching Steven gesture animatedly with his free hand as he talks to whoever’s on the other end.

“Cheers, Susan.” You give her a wave, heading off to let him know you’re done. Perhaps you can walk as he talks?

As you get closer, you can hear that there’s a plaintive tone to Steven’s murmuring, like he’s trying to plead his case to someone. You slow your approach, wondering who he’s talking to, but not wanting to interrupt in case it’s important.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he snaps suddenly, back going rigid, and you freeze in your tracks, because it’s not Steven’s voice, but a clipped, impatient American accent that you haven’t heard in forever. “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re both better off without me.”

His eyes in the mirror are narrowed and impatient. A scowl pressed between the firm line of his mouth as he glares at his own reflection.

“Marc,” you gasp his name without thought. Marc is here.

He jerks around at the sound of your voice, and for a split second, you catch sight of Marc’s eyes, wide and pained under furrowed brows, then they widen even further, brow smoothing out as he blinks several times in quick succession, looking apologetic and a little bit shellshocked. Even before he opens his mouth to speak, a part of you already knows. 

“Sorry, love,” Steven says in his thick South Londoner accent, and your heart sinks to your stomach. “Marc left, it's just me now.” 

He turns back to the window, and you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to tamp down the surge of disappointment and the ridiculous urge to burst into tears.

Watching Steven narrow his eyes at his reflection, you recalled what he’d said about mirrors. He hadn’t been on the phone at all, had he? Neither had Marc. They’d been communicating through the reflective surface of the glass. Talking to each other for the first time in months, and you had to go and ruin it by opening your big mouth and interrupting.

You wonder if Marc is still there in the glass, watching, but judging from the frustrated expression on Steven’s face you doubt it. He shakes his head in resignation before turning back to you, reaching over and gently tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry, love. I don’t think he’s going to come back,” he says, giving you an obviously-forced smile, “Shall we go get dinner?” 

“No, I... um...” You shake your head, forcing a smile that likely doesn’t look any more authentic than his, any excitement over trying a new place drowned out by the heavy weight of disappointment and regret that sits in your stomach like a stone, “I’m not all that hungry just now. Can we just go home?”

“Of course, love. Anything you want.”

If only that were true.

You

Steven made dinner tonight. You might have burn marks on your left hand. You better come back quick before he burns down the flat.

It’s another Saturday evening and you’re prepping the coffee maker to 'delay brew' another batch of coffee for Marc. You pause, bag of ground coffee in hand, before scooping it out. 

“So it’s one scoop per serving, right Steven?” you call out, just to double check, but there’s no answer, “Steven…?”

Turning, you find him bent over in front of the fish tank. In the reflection of the glass pane, you catch Steven’s distracted expression, but it takes you a few seconds to register that even though he’s staring at the tank, his eyes aren't really tracking the Gus twins. 

For a heartstopping moment you think maybe Marc is talking to him again, but then you take in the way his eyes linger on the upper corner of the glass and the postcards taped there. Postcards that are nominally from his mum, though you both know better now.

“Steven,” you call again, setting down the coffee and the measuring spoon, “Everything all right?” 

Steven startles, bolting upright like he’s snapping out of a trance. 

“Huh!? Oh. Yeah, yes. Sorry.” He gives you a sheepish smile as you come to join him in front of the tank. “Just looking at these.” 

Reaching out, he traces a finger over the edges of the postcard taped back-out to the glass surface.

“It’s a bit surreal, reading this again now that I know Marc sent it, not mum.”

There’s something bittersweet in his smile, and the way his eyes shade into mournfulness makes you want to pull him into a hug and never let go.  

“Paris is lovely,” he reads out from the card. “Wish I could take you! You’d love the museums here. Love you so much, Mum.”

Then he stops, and your heart breaks a little bit as he stares down at the handwritten message. 

You’re sad for Steven that words of love he had believed to be from his mum weren’t from her at all. You’re sad for Marc that he had to keep up this pretence, lonely and isolated in the far-off corners of the world, carrying the weight of the truth for both of them.

With a sigh, Steven straightens up, reaches over to carefully unpin a  postcard from the wooden edge of the bookcase next to the tank and reads that one too. 

“In Cairo. The pyramids reminded me of the amazing work you do at the museum. So proud of you!” 

He shakes his head in amusement, chuckling lightly as he reaches over to show it to you. 

“He even put a heart on it at the end,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the image of Marc bent over some table, painstakingly signing off the card with a cartoon heart.

You watch as Steven carefully fits the pin back through the existing hole in the card and repins it to the wood before moving on to the one just below it. 

“Happy birthday from New York. Wish I could be with you to celebrate with a birthday cake. You deserve the best day! Love, mum.”

That one gets a sigh, a sad smile and a small shake of his head before Steven repins it with the same meticulous care. 

One by one, Steven gently detaches the postcards adorning the wooden shelves, over, under and on the sides of the tank, and reads each one aloud before returning it carefully to its place. 

There must be at least fifty of them filling the space in his flat, from one remote destination after another.

Each message is filled with love and care. Words of encouragement, spelling out how proud she is of him. How much she wants for him to be happy. How she's always there for him. That she's just a phone call away. That he's never alone. 

Then Steven goes quiet, head dipped, as he stares blankly at the postcard of Austria in his hand. 

“The notes were always so loving and supportive, they always made me feel like I was a little bit less alone, you know?” he finally says, breaking the silence, and the corners of his mouth pulls into a sad smile again.

“I think... I think it must’ve been what Marc wanted to hear from our mum growing up but never got to. He must've wanted to make sure that someone got to hear these things from her… even if it was all just a lie.”

Shifting your feet, you simply nod at him, not knowing what else to say. Their mum is a bit of an enigma to you. Before today, you’ve only ever heard of her from Steven’s perspective as a loving and attentive mum. 

But there’s no doubt, as you’re watching him now, seeing the pain etched into his face as he thinks of his mother, that the rosy image he’d painted previously is far from the full picture.

You recall that morning in the kitchen when you had first brought up the postcards to Marc. The way that Marc had hunched into himself, his usual confident stance crumbling before your eyes at the mere mention of their mother. The way he seemed to be trying to make himself invisible and wincing as if expecting a blow.

You know enough now about DID and the medical consensus on what causes it.

Steven doesn’t need to tell you much more than that, you can read between the lines well enough.

“Are you going to keep them, do you think?” you ask instead. 

His head pops up, eyes wide as he blinks up at you in surprise, clutching the postcard tightly to his chest as though you might try to take it from him.

"Yeah,” he says, voice rasping quietly, then nods firmly and repeats it with more certainty the second time, “Yeah, ‘course I am. Of course. They may not have been from my mum, but they're from someone who cares about me.” 

He pins the card back into place with reverent care, then lets his hands fall to his sides. 

“Just wish that Marc could’ve had that for himself too, you know?”

You move forward until you’re close enough to Steven that you can slide a hand down his arm, your fingers brushing up against his wrist, and he takes a half-step closer, until his shoulder is pressing against yours.

“It’s a bit silly, you know? There was no need to go out of his way like this. I would have been none the wiser,” Steven says, smiling even as there’s a glossy sheen behind his eyes.

You know exactly what Steven means, and he’s right. It is silly. It’s also kind and unexpected and unnecessary and entirely Marc. 

The easy option would have been to just leave a dead fish in the tank. It would have been even easier to not send handwritten postcards to him at all. In fact, the easiest option of all for Marc was to dump everything on Steven from the very beginning. It would have saved him a lot of headaches. 

There was never any need for Marc to take all of this upon himself, carrying every burden come their way in order to spare Steven any hardships. No need for him to shoulder the entire weight of their world by himself. He didn't have to struggle alone, surrounded by millions of strangers in every corner of the world. And yet, you can’t imagine him doing otherwise.

This is quintessentially Marc, and as infuriating as it can be, you can’t fault him for it. 

“Marc has his own ideas about protecting the people in his life,” you say, as you lace your fingers with Steven's, squeezing him tightly under your palm, “Even if it’s at the expense of his own well being.” 

The two of you stand there in silence, interrupted only by the quiet bubbling noise coming from the tank. Surrounded by postcards written by a man who's not here, but whose presence can be felt in every nook and cranny of your life together. 

Marc isn’t here, yet reminders of him are constant and inescapable. His absence is like an aching tooth that you can’t seem to keep from prodding with your tongue, a missing stair that you can’t stop tripping over.

He's everywhere you look. 

Every cluttered pile of books that Steven leaves behind him when you stay in on a Saturday night, every messy detail makes you think of how Marc would want to rip out his hair, itching to clean if he saw the mess. 

You're reminded of Marc on every crowded tube you take on your morning commute. Haunted by the phantom weight of his protective hand on the small of your back, the comforting pressure of Marc's arms wrapped around you to keep you steady. 

Every morning when you walk into your office and catch a faint whiff of coffee from your cubicle, that fissure in your chest cracks open each time as you’re transported to the memory of waking up to the sight of Marc sitting next to you, drinking the coffee you make him with a stoic face. 

Then there is the biggest reminder of all: the face of the man you love. 

It's etched in the dark brown of Steven’s eyes as he smiles up at you and calls you 'love'. In the sharp line of his nose as he presses the blunt tip to your cheekbone to kiss you good morning. 

Perhaps you ought to be able to ignore it and pretend that this is fine. 

After all, you love Steven, and it'd be easy enough to pretend that you and Steven have reached your happily ever after. That this—your life together, just him and you, the way you’ve been since he’s returned—is your new normal, and that all of it is fine. 

...But it's not fine. 

You miss Marc. 

You miss waking up to him lingering in the kitchen as he tidies up. Miss his half-smiles and wry jokes. Miss the comfort of his presence just by him being near you. 

Somewhere along the line, in those quiet mornings together, Marc carved out a space for himself inside you. With him gone, it’s left a gaping wound in the middle of your torso, and you are haemorrhaging out without him.

Marc is important to Steven. He’s important to you too, you can admit that now. And you need to admit it to Steven as well. 

You squeeze down firmly on Steven's hand, closing your eyes shut for a brief second as you take a deep breath to prepare yourself. 

"Steven,” you start, “we... um... we need to talk.” 

You cringe the moment the words leave your mouth, wishing you could take them back and try again. The last conversation you started this way didn’t start or end well and sent Steven into a tailspin. 

Two seconds in, and you’re already messing this up. That has got to be some kind of a record. 

To your surprise, Steven doesn't panic. Instead his expression softens, and he smiles indulgently at you. 

"Yes, I think that's a good idea, love. There's a bit of an elephant in the room, isn’t there? A Marc-shaped elephant, yeah?” 

His blunt cheekiness cuts through any lingering hesitance in you, and you nod.

“I miss him,” you admit, before trailing off, “I…”  

You don't know how to say this. 

There are no words in the dictionary that can adequately convey what you’re feeling. How you can love Steven so much, be so deliriously happy to be with him, but still feel like there are sharp jagged pieces cutting large holes into you because Marc isn't there. 

“I know,” Steven says, filling the silence for you, “You care about him quite a bit, don’t you?”

You search his eyes for a moment, trying to get a sense of his emotional reaction to guide you. 

There’s nothing but kindness and understanding  in his gaze. Those warm brown eyes that seem to see right through you and accept you just as you are, and it helps to steady you.

“It’s all right, love,” he continues softly and gives your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze like he’s trying to emphasise to you that it truly is. “I care about Marc a great deal as well. The big grump grows on you, doesn’t he?”  

And that’s just Steven, isn’t it? Never shying away from a tough truth. 

You're so grateful to him for it.

You want to tell him how thankful you are to him for seeing you—for knowing you, even when you don't entirely know yourself. How safe you feel with him, even with this. How it’s his support that’s given you the courage to finally admit the truth to yourself... and to him as well.

“I think I...” 

You look down at your intertwined hands, his thumb petting the back of your knuckles. 

“I think I love him,” you finally say. 

It’s terrifying to admit out loud, but it’s a relief too.

You draw your eyes up to meet Steven’s, half-expecting to see hurt or pain blossoming, but there’s none.  You squeeze his palm gently in gratitude before you cup your hand over his soft cheek. 

“And I still love you as well. So much.”

“I thought that might be the case, love,” Steven says, and slides one hand into the pockets of his trousers, as he looks at you earnestly, “and that leaves you with a bit of a predicament, yeah?”

You nod. The fingers of your free hand are itching to fiddle with your wrist watch, so you curl them into a tight fist by your side. 

“I would never choose Marc over you, but I just– I–” you cut yourself off, shaking your head hopelessly because you’re not quite sure what you even want to suggest here. 

You’re so fucking nervous, nervous that you might be fucking up everything between you and Steven with this wishy-washy confession of yours. But before you spiral, Steven comes to your rescue.  

“So, I’m thinking, right,” Steven begins, “And– And stop me if this isn’t what you want, but what if–” 

He pauses, holding up both his hands in an invitation for you to interrupt at any time. 

“Look, nothing about our situation is normal. In fact, it’s rather abnormal, isn’t it?—and I reckon that means it has to be an inordinate solution.” 

Steven looks at you expectantly, but you have no idea what he’s trying to suggest, and it must show on your face because he continues, “So what if we all… um… well. You don’t have to choose, I guess is what I’m saying.”

Your mouth works, opening and closing as you struggle to get out any words in reply, and Steven presses on.

“Marc’s spent more than half his life shielding me from all the bad stuff that's come our way, trying to handle it all on his own. He doesn't believe that he deserves the good stuff. That he deserves love. But he does. Maybe more than anyone. So I think you should tell him how you feel, and we’ll see if we can't figure something out, all three of us.”

“You– You mean…”  you flounder, trying to find a delicate way to make sure he’s saying what you think he’s saying. But there is no such thing in these surreal circumstances. “You’re talking about my having a relationship with Marc as well as one with you? About… sharing me? …With him?”

He gives you a small awkward smile, as he shoves his fidgeting hands back down in his pockets like he’s suddenly grown self-conscious about how distracting they are. “Only if you’re okay with that, of course.”

“And you’re okay with that? You won't be jealous?”

“Jealous? …of Marc?” he begins incredulously, eyes popping wide open as if that option had never even occurred to him. Then he stops and really seems to ponder the question. 

“You know, I'm not. Maybe I should be, but… How can I be? After all, I’m a part of him, aren’t I? And he's part of me. The fact that you love him… Well, in some odd way it makes me feel like you... you just love all of me.”

Time seems to slow around you as you process what Steven’s just told you, because that’s it. That’s just what it is. 

You try to swallow down the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, but you can’t. His words shift something inside you, the tangled knot of guilt and confusion and conflicted loyalties that have lived inside you for so long unravels, leaving behind a clearer understanding of your own complicated feelings for both Marc and Steven.

You love Steven.

You love Marc.

You love both of them and all of them, and it doesn’t have to compete with each other. 

Once again you just marvel at Steven. At his way of cutting through your confusion, situational complexities, and convoluted emotions to put into words the truth you’ve struggled to understand, even as you’ve lived through it and felt it with every inch of you.  All of it summarised in that simple sentiment.  

“I do. I really do, Steven. You and Marc. All of you.” You breathe out, the tension going out of you until your spine softens, fully relaxes for the first time in a long time. 

Steven is still smiling at you, his smile spreading wider and more assured the longer he looks at you, and it makes the tentative love and joy welling up in your chest overflow until you can barely stand upright. 

“You’re really all right with this?” you ask one last time, and you notice that your voice is a little bit shaky because you feel like you are vibrating out of your skin. 

“I wouldn’t have suggested it, if it wasn’t something I wanted, love,” Steven says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate timbre as he wraps his arm around the small of your back pressing you tight to him.  “But only if it’s something you want too.” 

“Yes, it... It is. Very much so,” you confirm, and you can’t hold back your ever-growing smile. 

“Well then,” Steven says, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head, “I guess all that's left now is to tell Marc and convince him to come back home.” 

You

Ratatouille is on channel 4 today and 

...And what? 

You pause to sprinkle fish food into the Gus twins’ tank, as you stare blankly at the drafted message, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

Today is the first time you’ve woken up without Steven in bed with you since his return. It means Marc has gone off somewhere again. 

You chew on your inner cheek as you reread the half-finished message. It's a daily habit you have developed in Marc's absence. You text him throughout the day to share about frivolous ongoings in your life, the way you used to when you’d be sitting across him at breakfast. 

There’s never any response. The only proof you have that he hasn't changed his number or blocked yours is the two little ticks that eventually appear, indicating that he's read the messages.

Dragging your finger down the screen, you scroll up through the message log, embarrassed at the number of unanswered messages you’ve left.

He really is planning to ignore you and stay gone forever, isn't he?

Your thumb drags over to the delete button instead, painstakingly erasing your message. 

Deep down, you've always known these texts were just an excuse for you to hang onto the last tether you felt you had tying you to Marc, and you're sick of nattering on inanely, making cheeky jokes to camouflage what you really wanted to tell him.

It’s time to say what you mean. What you’ve always meant. The truth hidden between every line of every message you’ve sent him. 

You

I miss you

Please come back

You hit send before you can overthink it, then stare at the screen, blood rushing to your head as your heart starts to palpitate in your chest. A million thoughts race in your head, as you start to imagine Marc on the other end reading this. Will he be annoyed? Angry? Will he finally block your number so he doesn’t have to receive your spam messages at all hours of the day? 

You glance at the ottoman in front of you, about to set down the phone to keep it away from yourself, when from the corner of your eye you see that grey tick transforms into blue. 

Marc's read it. He’s read it.

Your heart drums painfully sharp tucked beneath your ribs. Your fingers grip the cold body of your phone. 

Marc's there. On the other side of the screen right now. A phone call away. 

That’s what Steven said wasn’t it? That all you two needed to do now, was to tell Marc how you feel and convince him to come home. 

That is, assuming he even wants to come home.  Maybe he just doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Still, your fingers slide open your contacts, scrolling down until you reach Marc's name and press call. 

It rings out, loud and oppressive. Louder still when you press it against your ear. 

Once.

You should’ve had a glass of wine before you did this.

Twice. 

He probably won't answer. Why would he? You shouldn't have even bothered. If he wanted to speak to you, he wouldn’t have been avoiding you in the first place. 

Three times. 

The monotonous ringing continues, and your heart seems to sink in your chest, dropping, heavy with disappointment into the pit of your stomach. He's not going to pick up.

Four. 

This is desperate and sad. You’re chasing after a man who keeps running from you. You're just going to leave yourself miserable. 

Five. 

This is so stupid. You should just hang up. 

Six–click. 

You jolt upright on the sofa. Every hair on the nape of your neck electrified. Legs tense and straining as you sit entirely still like you've encountered a deer in the forest and you're too afraid to move a muscle in case you might spook it away. 

Did the line disconnect? Or did he–

You yank the phone away from your ear to stare at the screen. It's blank and black save for Marc's name and a timer, numbers counting up to indicate the duration of the call. 

Marc picked up. Marc actually...

Your mouth is dry as you raise the phone to your ear again.

“He-hello? Marc?” 

There's no answer.  

“Marc? Are you there?” 

Still nothing. The other end of the line is dead quiet. Maybe it’s a bad connection.

“Can you hear me?” you try again. 

Maybe no one is there. Maybe Marc bumped it with his elbow. Maybe you’re just talking to yourself like a crazy woman. 

“Marc, I–” 

You lower the phone and check the screen again. The call is still going, but the silence on the line reveals nothing. You have no way of knowing if Marc is listening or not.

But if he is... 

If he is, this might be your best chance—perhaps your only chance—to speak to him. Compared to that, what does it matter if you feel a little bit silly? 

“So uhm... I-I don't know if you had a chance to read my message—the latest one, I mean. I know I've been sending you a lot of them. But if you're there? If you can hear me, Marc, I just– I mean it, you know? I miss you. Steven misses you too. We both do.”

It's still quiet.

Even if Marc is there on the other end of the line, it's quite obvious by now that he has no intention of answering you. Stubborn as he is, you know that no matter what you say, he's not going to acknowledge that he's there. 

If he’s even there.

You press on. 

“I don't know why you think you need to stay away, or why Steven and I wouldn't want you here. Because, yes, you're grumpy and your default setting is a resting bitch face, and yes, you can be a right arse sometimes, but…” You find yourself smiling, imagining the way his eyebrow would rise if you were saying this to his face.

“You've always taken care of Steven and... and of me too”. 

Your throat constricts with a thick lump that you try, but can’t seem to, swallow away. You think of all the small but many, many things Marc has done for you since he entered your life. The way he’s learned to prepare your tea just the way you like it. The way he always pulls your quilts to your shoulders while you’re asleep so you don’t freeze in the middle of the night. 

“I don't know if I've ever thanked you before. I guess I just– uhm. I want to thank you, you know? Thank you for cooking me breakfast every morning and for putting out my clothes for me so I didn’t have to search for them.” 

You think of the way he had held you while you were crying like a child on his living room floor. How firmly he’d cradled you in his arms, and how he didn’t let go, even when you got snot all over his shirt. 

“Thank you for comforting me when I was crying after everything with Steven.” There’s a stinging sensation behind your eyes, and you wipe at them with the back of your hand, trying to ignore that it comes away wet, as you continue to speak. 

“And for letting me stay over that night. I know you’re not usually a touchy-feely person, and it... It meant a lot to me.” 

You swear you can feel the phantom weight of his comforting hand on the small of your back, and you close your eyes as you imagine that he’s next to you. 

You think of all the ways he’s pushed himself for you. Hugging you when you were crying, cooking you breakfast when you were hungry, befriending you because you asked him to for Steven’s sake—how every step forward in your relationship has been because he was trying to meet someone else's needs: Steven’s. Yours. 

And now he’s removing himself from the picture, thinking he’s fulfilling another need. 

“I know I said I wanted a simple, normal life with Steven, but I didn't– That didn't mean I wanted you gone, Marc,” you continue, as you tug at your overlong sleeve and wipe at your wet cheeks. 

“You said you were going to fix everything, that we were better off without you, but how can anything be 'fixed' when I miss you so bloody much!? How can things be better without you here when I'm–” Your voice breaks, and you swallow around the thickness in your throat, trying to sniffle down the clump that won’t go away. 

“God, I hope you're listening, and I'm not just pouring my heart out to your back pocket.” 

You let out a wet laugh at the idea, and then inhale deeply, doing your best to steady your voice. 

“I'm– I’m in love with you, Marc.”

You're not sure if it's just your over-active imagination inventing things out of pure wish fulfilment, but you think perhaps you hear a quick intake of breath on the other end. 

“Steven knows. I still love him too, of course, but I told him how I feel about you, and he's okay with it. And if– well, if you ever wanted there to be something more between us, he'd be okay with that too. We don't have to be together that way if you don't want to, of course, but I just…” 

Your throat feels tight again, threatening to close up, and you have to stop for a moment, suck in a soggy breath and try to get yourself under control before you can continue. 

“I love you, Marc,” you say again, barely breathing for several seconds as you strain your ears, hoping to hear something, anything from the other line. But this time there's not even a hint of sound.

You desperately want to know what he’s thinking. Feeling. Is he shocked? Angry? Puzzled? What does he look like on the other end of the line? 

Are his brows furrowed into that pinched expression his face makes when he’s emotionally overwhelmed? If he were here, would he be looking at you with that same pained expression that night he put you in a taxi home? Or would he lean in and–

You don’t know. 

And you’d give up the whole world to know what Marc is feeling in this moment. Give anything to have him back here with you so you could see it for yourself. 

"Do you hear me, you stubborn, infuriating man?” you’re practically yelling now. “I love you! So there's not going to be any happily ever after for me unless you come back. You don’t have to love me the same way. It doesn't have to be anything you don't want it to be. But I need you here. Please. I miss you. Steven misses you. Please just come back.”

You close your eyes again, holding your breath. Hoping against hope that he’ll answer you or give you some sign that he’s heard you at the very least. But there’s nothing. 

And you have nothing more left to say to try to convince him. 

“Goodnight, Marc.”

Then you end the call. 

~ Continue ~

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[thesuperiorrobin]

“I don’t like sleeping alone anymore ”

❥Pairing: Damian Wayne x FemReader

❥word count: 997

❥Summary: Damian confronts you after acting weird this past couple of days do Ku to find out you haven’t been sleeping, but for what reason?

❥Warning: mentions of nightmares

You had always had trouble sleeping, to the point where you had to go to the doctor so they could prescribe you medication but that never worked. The nightmares that you suffered constantly always came back. The lack of sleep had caused you to zone out in the middle of class, Damian had noticed. Noticing the way you would fall asleep and quickly jolt awake made him worry. He thought you were just pulling all nighter for an upcoming test, but that wasn’t the case here.

It wasn't until he had come to visit you during his patrol late at night when he realized.

You always leave your bedroom window open for him, making it easier for him to enter and he finds you struggling to keep yourself awake—sitting by your desk, leaning over it with a bright lamp as the only light source in your room. Watching as your head bobbles itself up and is trying to keep the weight up.

He frowns, gently walking up to you—the ex-trained-assassin's footsteps are quiet as he approaches you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder.

You jolted wide awake, head snapping to the side to see who’s hand it was. Eyes soften when you realize it was just Damian in his Robin suit.

“Oh Damian!” You whispered loudly— for only him to hear fearing you might wake up your sleeping parents “sorry. I was getting homework done. Math and my forensic class are really kicking my ass this semester”

A tired laugh escapes past your lips as you try to hide back a yawn.

“Are you alright, beloved?” Damian worriedly tilts his head “you’ve been….more inactive lately. Not in a bad way, but in a way that doesn’t seem yourself”

When Damian worries about you it makes you feel guilty. Not because he’s focused just on you but because you don’t tell him what’s bothering you. He always reassures you that you are his top priority—having a whole conversation between the two of you about why you’re first and his life outside of Damian Wayne comes second. You think saving the world is more important than you having silly nightmares that will eventually go away at some point.

“Oh it’s nothing. I’ve just been caught up with school and all I barely have time to sleep”

You lied and Damian knows it—which pains him even more. He lets out a soft sigh as his hands grasp the chair you sat on and he pulls it towards him. He grasps your hand shortly after and pulls you up to your feet.

“You’re having trouble sleeping,” he says. Pulling you away from your desk and turning off the light—still having a tight soft hold on your hand. “Those circles under your eyes tell me you haven’t slept not an ounce in a while. Have you not?”

Your silence was enough for him as he dragged you to your bed. He motions for you to get comfortable and you do so without a word. Silently watching as he opens your closet—pulling out a pair of night clothes fit for him, seeing as he left him in your bedroom when he secretly sleeped with you during summer vacation. You play with your fingers as he changes. Damian doesn’t like the silence you give him. He rather have you talk his ears off like you always do, talking about random subjects that come to mind. When you didn’t do that however he knew something was wrong.

“What wrong y/n” Damian climbs into bed, sitting right next to you as he once Gaona graos your hand into his. His thumb is softly rubbing at the back of your hand.

“It’s nothing really” you let out a laugh hoping to make things a bit more lighter “I’m just tired from all the school work”

“You are lying, beloved. And the only reason I know that is because you aren’t looking me directly in the eyes like you a always do”

You always hated how observant Damian was.

“Please tell me what’s wrong”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders—pulling you closer to his side as you gripped his fingers snuggling closer into his side. Having a wave of protectiveness and a warm feeling in your chest. He gently rubs his tan cheek against yours, digging his face into your neck.

“Never” he whispers into your ear.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips and Damian holds you tighter.

“Nightmares” you choke back a small sob “they just keep coming back. No matter what I do. No matter how much help I get they always come back. I know they aren’t real but…they just feel so real it’s scary. Sometimes I wonder if they’ll come true. I can’t keep doing it. I can’t keep going to sleep if those nightmares keep coming back. And I can’t keep staying up. I’m losing my mind—im falling behind in most of my classes. I just can’t- I just don’t like to sleep alone anymore-“

Damian listened carefully, still holding you close as you cried out to him about your nightmares. The ones that keep you up—hunting you. He mentally wishes he could just fight them for you but that’s just a silly thought. He waits until you’ve calmed yourself down. Once you’ve done that he lays the both of you down. Fixing the position you were both in.

Laying on your side in your lover's arms. Just the way you liked it.

“You don’t have to worry, beloved” he gently twirls a strand of your hair or two around his finger, “as silly as I’m about to sound and as much as it pains me to say—I’ll help you fight those horrid nightmares of yours. Or I’ll do it myself. As for now I’ll stay with you for that night. How does that sound?”

“I’ll…I’ll like that”

#damian al ghul #batfamily #batman x fem!reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader

[pablitogavii]

Hii, could you maybe write a sub gavi smut like he‘s all whiney while edging him and he‘s begging you to let him cum, but you don’t give in so easy

Swap Roles

"Seriously? She literally licked your face!" you were angry about the incident that happened at the bar Pablo went with his teammates one night after a win where a fangirl asked for a picture but started licking his face in the middle of it.

"Amor, tranquí. It's not a big deal. I didn't expect her to do that but it was funny afterwards nothing else.." Pablo said nonchalantly while eating some cereal the next morning.

"Funny? Right! So if I go lick some guy at the bar that would be funny??" you say with your hands on your hips and he had a nerve to smirk taking his last bite before walking up to you cockily.

"Amor, if you want to lick something..I might be able to help with that" he teased but you were in no mood for this still quite pissed off that he wasn't taking this seriously.

"Fuck you Gavira!" you only used his last name when he seriously fucked up but he was still messing around winking at you and acting like this was all one big joke.

"I'm a little tired now..but I could never say 'no' to you nena" he was about to pull you closer but you stomped your feet as you walked away into your shared bedroom and slammed the door behind you.

You made plans with Francesca and Aurora to go out tonight and swap roles a little to teach Gavi a lesson. You would never of course do anything close to cheating on him (you loved him so much) but you wanted to make him feel worried so he sees it's not a joke.

You finished getting ready around ten getting out of the bedroom to look for your heels when Pablo caught the sight of you in a black mini dress pausing his game immediately.

"Amor, are you going somewhere?" he asks while furrowing his eyebrows considering that you spend a whole day not talking to him inside the bedroom.

"I'm going out with friends tonight" you said coldly while he jumped off the bed to walk up to you and observe your quite mouth watering little outfit.

"You look beautiful, nena" he says and you mentally cursed him for being so adorable making it impossible to be angry with him but you remained cool.

"Thank you. I won't be back until late so don't wait for me" you add sparking his curiosity a little and that certainly the plan knowing that although eh was playing it cool in front of you, his possessive nature was driving him crazy right now.

"What do you say when some hijo de puta tries to touch what's mine?Hm?" Pablo asked with a smirk and unlike all other times, tonight you were not going to give him the satisfaction..after all you were still mad at him!

"I'm running late, Pablo. I really have to go now!" you grab your bag and quickly peck his lips without answering leaving the apartment before he could protest.

Pablo was agonizing over where you were all night, unable to focus on his game any longer calling Pedri to talk it through.

"You told her tranquí and offered sex as an apology? Ai Pablito! " Pedri was explaining to Gavi why you were mad like a teacher explaining math to toddlers.

"But you were there and it was really nothing Pepi, like I don't care about some random girl when I have the best girl waiting for me at home" Pablo said and Pedri reminded him that's all he was supposed to say to you instead.

"Mierda! What now? I can't sleep knowing she is out there alone... I have to go!" he hung up before Pedri told him that was probably a bad idea but decided to let him do what he wanted knowing how stubborn his best friend can get at times.

"Pablo is asking where I am. Should I answer?" you ask looking at Aurora who was mad at his younger brother for the way he acted as much as you but reminding you how much Pablo worries underneath all that cockiness.

She was right. He was probably worried sick since I never go anywhere without telling him in case of an emergency. It was our way of caring for one another. You shared your location with him.

Pablo entered the club looking quite disheveled not really changing form his sweatpants and an old Barça t-shirt from earlier. His heart clenched and his fists tightened when he finally spotted you sitting at the bar with a drink in your hand talking to some guy who was desperately trying to make you laugh.

"We're leaving!" Pablo appeared and you were quite shocked almost chocking on your drink.

"Pablo Gavi. I'm a big Barça fan." the guy said reaching his hand out and you wished he knew how wrong that was in that moment.

"Yeah and that's why you are flirting with my girl, right! " Pablo turned towards the man and you saw that if you didn't stop this it would escalate quick.

"Amor!" you used the nickname in hopes of calming him down and thankfully it worked as he turned right back towards you still clenching his jaw in anger while you held his flexed bicep. God! He was so hot when he was angry!

"We're going home.." he repeated calmly this time although you knew he was quite pissed off which part of you wanted all along.

You sensed that if you refused his anger will definitely cause a problem neither of you needed right now. After all, your angry bird wasn't known for managing his impulses well.

"Alright, bye Ethan" you said getting up and taking Pablo's hand as he purposefully snaked his arms around your waist so that his hand lingered on your ass for the him to see. If you didn't know he was angry, you would have smirked at his little action.

"Bye Y/N. Nice to meet you!" Ethan said as you were walking towards the exit door.

The car ride was dead silent as Pablo was gripping his steering wheel (let's pretend our baby can drive hehe) and you remembered that you didn't tell Francesca and Aurora you left.

"I should probably tell Fran and Rory that I left.." you said out loud and Pablo turned to look at you for a quick second before looking back at the road.

"You were there with my sister and Pedri's girlfriend?" he asked mentally cursing Pedri for not telling him that while feeling relief that you didn't go there to meet with that skinny douchebag.

"Of course I was! What did you think?" you said happy that he was at least talking so that you don't have to endure an uncomfortable silence.

"So how did you meet Ethan then?" Pablo asked bitterly and you rolled your eyes knowing that this was a perfect chance to turn the tables on him.

"Amor, tranquí. It's not a big deal. I didn't expect to meet him, he just sat next to me at the bar." you said while looking at your phone trying your best to act disinterested same way he did this morning.

"And then offered to buy you a drink right?" Pablo said through gritted teeth and you just shrugged seeing the same frustration you had this morning radiating off him.

"Mhm.." was all you said and Pablo was starting to loose his cool as you finally arrived to your shared apartment. You went straight into the bedroom taking off your heels and looking for you pajamas in the closet.

When you changed, you saw Pablo pacing inside you shared bedroom clearly still very much pissed off.

"Amor, tranquí" you used the same phrase again and that tipped him off.

"Stop saying that! How would you feel if I..." but he couldn't finish that sentence since you interrupted getting angry yourself.

"Had your face licked by some random bar girl? And then tell me that it was funny!?" you reminded him and he just stared quietly with his face getting red as you got really close to him.

"I didn't let him buy me a drink...I just wanted you to see how it feels when the roles are swapped…not funny right?” you say and his eyes widen as relief made him calm once more.

"I'm sorry.." Pablo said with pouting face and you smiled moving closer and hugging him before kissing his neck playfully making him relax under your touch while snaking his arms protectively around your waist trying to take off your pajamas but you stop him.

"Not so fast...I'm still really mad at you" you smirk pushing him on the bed before getting on top of him and he smirks letting you do what you please.

It was a rare occurrence that you were the one in control because Pablo is very dominant in bed but it pleased you that he was letting you do as you wished tonight.

You took off his shirt quickly before kissing down his chest to his infamous v-line starting to tease him through his sweatpants still not letting him take them off.

"Amor..stop teasing me!" he said but you just smirk reminding him that he needs to make up for being wrong so he just groans letting you proceed with your ministrations.

You finally took off his sweatpants and boxers touching the prominent vein on his cock while licking your lips looking up at his hungry eyes.

"I just wonder how badly she wished to lick your cock instead of your face..." you say with a smirk stopping your movements and he looks down at you in complete shock.

"W..what?" he whimpered a little his cock already leaking precum begging to be sucked.

"That bitch from the bar...how badly she wanted to get her tongue on your cock..but this is only mine!" you say finally licking his shaft from base all the way to the top making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck! Yes it is princesa!" Pablo said through shaky voice enjoying you actions.

You kept pulling away when he wanted to go deeper massaging his balls in agonizing circles knowing that always drives him mad.

"F..fuck..l..let me cum" Pablo groaned as you started to suck him off making him grab your hair in a ponytail and guide you where he wanted. You hollowed your cheeks and the moment you felt him twitching in your mouth you pulled away whipping your lips and smirking at his defeated expression.

"You've been bad.." Pablo's dominant voice was back and you smiled as he immediately flipped you over and teared off your pajamas in one swift motion..you knew denying him orgasm would awaken the angry beast you craved so bad.

He entered you in one swift motion starting to roughly pound making you scream his name on top of your lungs scratching his back and chasing your own orgasm.

"I don't give a shit about any other girl! No other girl would ever drive me crazy like you do princesa! I love you! F..fuck..I feel you..cum with me!" he said and you both reached your highs laying down next to each other sweaty and completely out of breath.

"I think it's clear that we are perfect for each other princesa.." Pablo said through a smile turning to the side to look at your sweaty face before pulling you closer and capturing your lips into a passionate kiss.

"From now on, I'm the only one allowed to lick you!" you said after the kiss and you both chuckled cuddling closer to one another before falling asleep in each other's arms.

#pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavigif #gavi #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca

[theanxiousghostartist]

TMAGP 11 SPOILERS BELOW!!!

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I'm going to try to organize this to make all my thoughts less chaotic, but I apologize if this is still a mess 😅

Celia: So Celia randomly woke up in the middle of nowhere, I wonder if it's something to do with the Web. After all, Celia has implied that she was from the TMA universe, so maybe the Web is trying to get her to do something for it, as it's the last connection to TMA's universe Or could it be possible that she was unconsciously heading to Hilltop Road, where the portal was? Furthermore, who is Jack? Is he a partner or friend? Or could he be someone from the TMA universe that got pulled into this universe like Celia? Or is he someone important to her back in the TMA universe? Could he be someone she has turned to for her research on portal and other universes? Celia lied about where she was and why she was late, two questions: Why and does this have to do with Jack and/or her waking up in the middle of nowhere?

Lena and Gwen Debrief: They enjoy when you scream? Lena!! Are you confirming they are Avatars???? Also, "watch the caseload?" Does that mean Mr. Bonzo is going after one of the OIAR employees? Colin, Alice, and Celia are good possibilities.

* Colin because he "knows too much" and Lena has kept pushing him away from work, this could be her next step.

* Alice because she describes being followed, so this very well could be Mr. Bonzo. Also, she was at the ruins with Sam and could know more than she lets on.

* Celia because she is probably from the TMA universe and could know a lot. Also, her waking up in random places could be a result of a mark of a fear or a fear, like the Web trying to protect her.

* Sam also is a possibility, but I feel like, besides Gwen, he is least likely as he is really struggling to figure everything out.

Alice: Alice has been really paranoid this episode. I wonder if it is the Eye marking her like in MAG60. Or maybe it was [Redacted]? Or Mr. Bonzo?

Statement: First off, yay Ink5oul!!/pos The body looked perserved, and the tattoo was of the sea. Could this be a Flesh/Vast combo? Also, the ME died after observing the body, possibly Gordie as well, I wonder if the tattoo acted as an artifact or a Leitner. Also, I wonder if the tattooist(s) (Oscar Jarret and Sutherland Macdonald) Ink5oul mentioned were past Avatars or even their mentor.

#tmagp spoilers #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #tmagp podcast #tmagp #tmagp 11 #tmagp 11 spoilers #the magnus protocol spoilers #the magnus protocol #the magnus protocol theory #the magnus protocol 11 #the magnus protocol 11 spoilers #theory #podcast

[cottoncandy-cult]

Babyfication

Welcome to the first event of my account the babyfication event! A dorm-based event in which a sudden accident leaves Yuu the dear reader turned into toddler/infant and now your significant other has to play daddy until the magic wears off or the semi functioning adults (We see and appreciate you Master Crewel) find a way to fix it! Proceed forward to read the intro, I do plan to do all of the dorms. Not sure what order I'll go in, Heartslabyul will probably be split in 2 since it has 5 main members. It will be written as a reader insert, she/her pronouns used. This is completely sfw, I'm sure you all saw that coming.

INTRO:

It had been a somewhat chaotic day at Night Raven College, everyone had seemed frazzled and busy with what could be considered nonsense. Many students seemed to have an unsettled energy, making them fidgety and act a bit more immature than they normally would. So, it was no surprise that by the end of the day when everyone was in the middle of their last classes that some people were acting out, for (Y/n) at least this was the case as she stood at her cauldron in professor Crewel's potionology class. This was a joint class, and so all of the first years had a second or third year partner, her partner happened to be Lilia, which was certainly interesting. Each individual group was assigned a different potion to make at random, (Y/n) and Lillia got a simple potion off the luck of the draw and so their potion was meant to make one's hair change color like a mood ring. (Y/n) had just walked away from the cauldron to get the professor to have their potion checked when a small spat broke out between a set of nameless partners nearby, the fight had started with a harsh push causing the male closest to her to fall and knock her over while spilling a deep blue potion in a beaker down her chest. These two unlucky boys had a more advanced potion that required 2 separate potions to be made and then mixed, everyone had been glad they hadn't gotten that one. (Y/n) had just enough time to look down at the blue liquid on her skin, mumbling a quiet expletive before the liquid seemed to explode into smoke hard enough to knock her on her back. Sounds around her had been shuffled and blurry as she became lightheaded, vaguely aware of Crewel yelling at the fighting partners as he tried to find her in all the smoke. It wasn't until a sudden burst of wind, thanks to Lilia, cleared the smoke from the room that Crewel found (Y/n). A YOUNG (Y/n), practically drowning in her own clothes which were no way to big. She had been lying on her back unconscious in the middle of the floor. Her tiny body showed that she had been reverted to a toddler-esq state, leaving the teacher muttering his own string of expletives as all the students stood against the far wall. Crewel turned to face Lilia who stood nearby, quietly observing the scene. "Mr.Vanrouge, since she's your partner I'll supplement your grade if you can find someone to take care of her. And you two!" The dual tone male turned to face the wall of students, pointing at the offending pair. "You're coming with me to see the headmage, you've made an awful mess for us you bad puppies." He crossed his arms with a huff, dismissing the students early so he can have the room cleaned up while he deals with the problematic males. Lilia quietly watched as everyone left the room, making his way over to the frailest of children he had ever interacted with. "Hey there (Y/n), don't worry. Lilia will get you somewhere safe." He was surprisingly gentle when scooping up the baby, as not only was she technically his friend but she was a magicless human infant which made her like the thinnest of glass when compared to him. He chose to fly when carrying her, not wanting to disturb her until he had gotten her to the right dorm...

Where Will You Go?

Diasomnia

Heartslabyul

Ignihyde

Octavinelle

Savanaclaw

Scarabia

Pomefiore

#twisted wonderland #writing event #X reader #Diasomnia #heartslabyul #ignihyde #octavinelle #savanaclaw #scarabia #NRC #yuu #candy cult vault

[host-club-hq]

Indeed: ~The Door the Twins Opened!~

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x reader

➼ summary: we delve into the past a bit and discover that tamaki's continued persistence with the ginger-haired middle schoolers seems to be failing... so that's why kyoya recruits the newest member of the host club to do the job! their beloved errand girl appears to be proficient in the task...

➼ word count: 8.2k

➼ what to expect: "Hey, there! Come on in, welcome to the rest of your life!"

➼ warnings: slight angst

➼ chapter navigation

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ reader is less prominent, but we get to see some interactions with her and the twins! which is always fun :) this episode always has me in tears

Footprints litter the fresh, powdery snow that covers the ground. It's almost as if the world was set to black and white, devoid of color. The courtyard is nearly empty save for three lower school students. Two of which are identical twins.

"Can you tell? Which of us is Kaoru? And which of us is Hikaru?"

Only the snow falls in the silence. Fluttering snowflakes, each unique, each set apart from the other. Unlike the brothers sitting on the park bench before the flustered little girl, mitten-clad hands pressed to her chest with a prominent, confused frown. In her eyes, she could be seeing double if she didn't know any better. They're deficient of individuality, envying the snowflakes.

Although her attempt is completely random and based on no evidence, she jabs a mitten in Kaoru's direction, "Well, I think you're Hikaru."

Their lips part in slight astonishment. At their age, it's a little unknown to them as to why no one is able to tell them apart. And disappointing.

In the awkward silence, a nearby tree bends under the weight of the collecting snow and it all slides to the ground with a thud!

The two of us were always together. We were like a single entity; a unique being.

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Eight years later... Hikaru and Kaoru's 2nd year of middle school...

And that closeness was very important to us.

However, we knew we were, in fact, separate beings.

In a vacant classroom in complete and utter silence, Hikaru and Kaoru are seated just beside one of the extensive windows that looks out into the courtyard.

The one that was not me was Hikaru. And the one that was not Hikaru was me.

The brothers sit in identical positions, knees propped up under their arm and supporting their drooping heads, tired and bored eyes scanning the courtyard in silence.

For us, this concept was something that was-

"Hm. Looks like she's here." At Hikaru's observation, Kaoru lifts his head curiously. As he takes a look for himself, he too finds their next victim waiting for them under one of the many archways that decorates the Academy grounds.

"Yeah, you're right."

But victim is a strong word. The girl waiting for them is one of their fellow classmates, anticipating one of their arrivals. She's entirely unsuspecting to the events that will transpire next. She simply believes she's waiting for a response to a love letter she'd left on one of their desks just hours before.

"I'm sorry, were you waiting long?" Hikaru materializes before her, seemingly polite. He leans against a support column cooly.

"I read your letter."

"Hikaru." The girl begins with hope, but is ultimately cut off.

"I'm really sorry, but- I am Kaoru." Hikaru flourishes the letter with a sheepish, almost mischievous smile.

Her eyes grow wide with shock and a mixture of embarrassment, "You must've gotten my desk confused with Hikaru's and put your letter in the wrong one."

She turns away and casts her eyes elsewhere, ashamed of her detrimental mistake.

With the letter pressed to his lips, narrowed eyes analyzing her body language and facial expressions, Hikaru continues with his well-practiced act, "Do you think that- you could like me instead?"

Shocked and taken by surprise, the girl's eyes return to Hikaru's.

"I should confess, to be honest, I've always thought that you were really cute. And besides, Hikaru has a crush on someone else."

Behind a potted shrub, Kaoru's eyes cast downward, heart clenching in anticipation at the girl's reply. What he really wants is-

No, I really like Hikaru. I can't like you instead. It's not that easy.

"So, what do you say?"

Please, just once he wants one girl to not be as shallow as the rest of them-

"Uh, well, I-I guess. If you're okay with it, then I am too, Kaoru."

Simultaneously, each brother's smile disappears and is replaced with a loathing scowl.

He should have known better.

"I see. Then, hey, Kaoru! She says that she'd be fine with you instead!" He calls behind him, seemingly to nothing and no one. 

The girl lifts her head, heart skipping a beat as Kaoru slithers out from behind his hiding place, adorning a smirk identical to his brother's. 

"Hold on, so then you are Hikaru?" She sputters, wholly blindsided by the trickery. 

Hikaru scowls, "This is getting old. You girls just keep falling for it."

"You jerk! Why're you so mean?" She whimpers. 

At that, Hikaru has had enough, "No. You're the one who's mean." He growls with a menacing gaze. 

And he's not wrong. In fact, he's completely correct. 

"You're okay with either of us? Really? Who do you think you are?" A valid question, indeed. It'll take time, but the student will realize that her indifference about which twin she has a crush on means that she doesn't have a crush on either one of them. 

Lurking behind a corner, another student eavesdrops. 

"By the way, that hairstyle doesn't look so great on you. If you wanna go out with us, you should work on your fashion sense." Kaoru arrives at Hikaru's side wordlessly, falling into the malicious aura set up by his brother. 

A blatant disregard for one's feelings seems to hide the fact that the student is actually in the wrong. 

"And next time you write a love letter, make it good." 

They cackle, tearing the beloved letter to shreds before the sender's glistening eyes. Then, they stride off together, laughing still, as the student falls to her knees at the sight of her letter torn to pieces; her beloved hard work. 

A kind hand offers her a handkerchief, "They're pretty mean, aren't they?" 

She glances up with a gasp, meeting violet irises, "Are you alright, beautiful young lady?" 

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"Hey, Kaoru, you wanna play a game? Check it out; I found a cool site." 

During their fifth-period study hall, the twins are like most young students- playing games on their devices instead of actually using the study hall for its intended purpose. 

"Why don't we play that game on the net?" Kaoru all but whines. 

"Those guys are all a bunch of pansies. They're too easy to beat. Where's the fun in that." Hikaru grumbles, bored, as he props his chin on his hand, scrolling through the aforementioned site on the twins' shared laptop.

"Yeah, that's true. Never mind." Kaoru quickly switches gears at the mention of the lack of fun. 

Whenever something got to be boring, we'd ditch it. That's just how we did things.

"Man, those Hitachiin twins are pretty intimidating."

"Yeah, it's like they're always looking down on everyone."

"But my dad wants me to at least try and be friends with them."

"Yeah, mine too."

"Same here."

"But why even bother? I don't think those two like anybody other than themselves."

That wasn't entirely true. There was one person we were very fond of: A maid who took care of us. We adored her.

But that was a very long time ago...

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10 years earlier... Hitachiin Manor, courtyard

"Aw, look at you! You two look so cute today! Just like little dolls."

The twins, holding hands, are dressed in frilly, feminine dresses and matching wigs. One twin is pink, and the other is blue. 

Colors that seem to persist when angry with each other... 

"Now, the twin with the blue hair is Hikaru, and the twin with the pink hair is Kaoru, right?" 

Wrong

"No, you're wrong, Auntie. Kaoru's blue, and Hikaru is pink." Hikaru blatantly informs. 

"You always get it wrong; you must be dumb." They hadn't quite figured out that identical twins are extremely hard to tell apart, even if one knows them well. 

Their aunt chuckles nervously, "I'm sorry, boys. It's just that you two look so much alike!"

Indistinguishable, in fact. 

In sync, "And you know what you look like to us, Auntie?" They reveal a frog concealed in their hands, "A frog." 

Out of instinct, the frog leaps and lands on their Auntie's face, square on her nose. She squeals and shrieks, lurching backward and toppling to the ground. The twins merely watch her fall, unamused, as they often are. 

"Oh, no! You little trouble makers!" A very specific maid rushes to the rescue and kneels before the guest in a panic. 

"I'm so sorry, madam!"

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We really liked that maid. She was different. She didn't try to flatter us or win us over like everyone else in the house did.

Late that night, only the noise of the combination to an essential safe can be heard in the hallway, turning back and forth as the aforementioned, unnamed maid presses her ear to the door to listen for any sort of click. 

She yelps and falls back onto the floor when the twins appear before her, dressed in their sleepwear and staring into her soul. 

"What are you two doing here?!" She gasps, incredulous. Yet, they seem to be entirely unfazed. 

"We're night exploring." That's probably the creepiest way it could have come out of their mouths, strangely reminiscent of The Shining with very similar twins. 

"Well, now that you've found me out, I guess I have to make sure you stay quiet." The maid flashes a sharp dagger to them as a warning. 

Suddenly the Hikaru is holding a red button attached to a string that's strung around his neck, "If we push this button- all of the security guards will come running. Should we try? Ready, set-"

"No! Don't do it!" She screams. 

Just as she lunges forward, the button disappears and is replaced with a letter, both twins now facing her. 

"We have the combination for that safe." 

"If you'll play with us for a little while-"

"We'll give you this piece of paper."

They fail to mention the game's difficulty, knowing for certain that the maid will never be able to win the combination. But... if she wants it bad enough, they hope that her effort will result in finally being told apart. 

The maid turns back to the safe, facing them again with a smug smirk, underestimating how easily she'll be able to achieve her goals, "Fine, so what would you like to play?" 

"Let's play the 'which one is Hikaru?' game!" They chorus excitedly.

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Snuggled safely under the protection of their shared blankets, the twins feel sleep beginning to take over their bodies. 

"Hikaru, you sure the paper with the combination is safe?" Kaoru grumbles. 

"Don't worry. I hid it in our piggy bank. She can't get it out unless she breaks it." Beside them on their bedside table sits a delicately crafted piggy bank made of china. 

All we wanted was for her to be able to tell the two of us apart. We really liked that maid.

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Ringing, blaring, piercing into the silence of the dead of night. The alarm sounds with an earsplitting shriek, alerting anyone that someone has stolen something. The safe is wide open and barren. 

That someone is the maid. She'd somehow broken into the piggy bank, without the twins noticing, and leaped out the window on a rope ladder as her escape. 

"Why did you break your promise?" 

The maid glances up toward the window and finds the twins leaning over the sill to watch her climb down, frowning. 

"Sorry, boys, but I didn't have a choice. I can't tell you two apart. You're identical. You know, it's possible that no one will ever be able to tell which one's which."

That maid, the only person we ever liked, dropped that bomb on us and then disappeared into the night.

After that, we became progressively more twisted as we grew up. 

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And so, we built up a barrier to keep others from getting too close to us. But, regardless, there was always someone too dense to notice the barrier that would come along and try to befriend us.

Sitting alone together on the edge of the elegant fountain, each twin props open one side of their book with one hand, reading as one.

"You have plenty of free time, huh?" 

The twins cast their gazes upward to the disembodied voice with a disinterested hum. They come across an overly-excited, golden retriever blond. They notice his purple irises as he extends a hand toward them welcomingly. 

"I have an idea! Why don't you help me form a club?"

"Who the hell is this guy?" Hikaru grumbles bluntly, glowering into Tamaki's soul. 

"Oh, I know who he is. The girls in class were talking about him. You know, he's that Suoh kid that was admitted spring semester." Kaoru scoffs, turning his brother but keeping one eye on Suoh.

"Oh, yeah. So this is the guy, huh?"

Tamaki spreads his arms, "Yeah! You know me? I had no idea I was so famous!" He covers his face in mock modesty, "Oh, my, I guess I'm guilty! I should have known my internal and external brilliance would blind my peers! But I can't help but be radiant!" 

Next, he falls to his knees with a certain sense for drama that almost intrigues the twins, "So, is this the fate of God's chosen one? His beautiful, blessed child?"

So there he hits, knelt on the ground, arms hugging himself before the twins as they nearly gawk at him, "Where'd you get an idea like that?" Kaoru inquires. 

Tamaki pops up, "There's no need to be concerned about it. Although you're not yet up to my level, the two of you do show quite a bit of promise." 

"What are you talking about?" Hikaru's brows furrow. 

"I'm founding a new club two months from now, in April. Ideally, I would like to begin as soon as I graduate into Ouran's High School. It might be difficult at first because you'd have to come up from the middle school for the next year. But I'm sure I can put in a good word for you and work it out. It's going to be a lot of fun; I've already asked Kyoya Ootori from my class to join; I'm sure you know him. And I'm also asking high school first years Haninozuka-Senpai and Morinozuka-Senpai to join us."

He thinks a moment, "Oh! And Kyoya's hired us the cutest little errand girl! I'm sure you know y/n l/n very well; her name is known quite well!"

"That's where you two come in!"

"You're bugging us. Get lost."

Tamaki opens his eyes and shakes himself from his daydream at their blunt, far too honest reply. 

"We don't hang out with anyone."

"And we certainly don't wanna hang out with you." Hikaru scoffs. 

"But if you're absolutely determined to get to know the two of us-"

"-we should play-"

One more try. Just one. 

"- the 'Which One is Hikaru?' game! You in?" The twins glance at Tamaki with devilish eyes. 

The twins put down their reading and lean back slightly with the support of the fountain underneath them. 

"The rules of the game are pretty easy. You just have to pick which one of us is Hikaru."

"And we'll give you one month. You can guess as many times as you want in that month, but we'll ask for your reasoning. So no random guessing."

"For the record, no one has ever been able to get it right." To their dismay. 

"If that's alright with you, then try your best."

And just as suddenly as Tamaki had approached them, the twins have disappeared. Tamaki is left to stare at his own reflection in the fountain where they'd been sitting, significantly less excited than when he'd first arrived. 

As they stride off, the twins are quick to notice his expression, "I guess he can't handle it." Hikaru smirks knowingly. 

"Who cares about him? Did you hear that lineup? It's obvious why he wants to add the Hitachiin name. It's like he's gathering the kids of high-class families."

Just once, they want to be wanted for something more than their money, name, or reputation.

"I've got one month, right?" 

The twins blink, turning bewildered at Tamaki's call to them.

"Then I accept. But in return, if I win, you both have to join my club. Sorry to break it to you, but... there's no doubt in my mind- come April, you're both going to be members. I am certain of it!" Tamaki points determinedly to the two. 

The twins narrow their gazes challengingly. Oh, it is on. 

Our game had commenced. The clock was ticking.

Game Start

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Tamaki lets out a heaving sigh, returning to his classroom, still bustling with students. He plops himself down in the seat in front of Kyoya, a slight frown tugging at his lips. 

"So. How'd it go?" Kyoya inquires absently. 

"They want me to play their little game," Tamaki grumbles bitterly. 

"What game?"

"They want me to be able to tell which one is Hikaru. But! Don't worry; I know that at the end of the month, I'll be able to tell the two apart flawlessly!" Tamaki pumps his fist into the air theatrically. 

Kyoya shrugs, indifferent, "Well if you end up needing help, we could always ask y/n to do it." 

"I have to do it myself, Kyoya! I have to win the game!" Tamaki whines. 

"She is our errand girl, after all. We can ask her to do whatever we want." Kyoya reminds. 

"I don't want to do that to her." Tamaki pouts. 

Kyoya rolls his eyes, "She's proved to be well versed in the task of recruitment. I've heard down the grapevine that Haninozuka-Senpai is thinking about joining." 

Tamaki gasps, his infamous puppy eyes making an appearance as he leans back dangerously in his chair, nearing Kyoya, "Really?! Then that means Morinozuka-Senpai is going to come along with him!"

"Just let me know. I'll have her on it faster than you can say 'Hitachiin.'"

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"Um, Hikaru, Kaoru, we're planning a special class event after this year's closing ceremonies." Their fellow student has gathered all of her courage to ask Hikaru and Kaoru to join them in friendly activities. 

Hikaru scribbles mindless patterns into a blank notebook as Kaoru's eyes scan over the content of his novel. Their answer is practiced. 

"Whatever, I think we'll pass," Hikaru informs bluntly. 

"But... it's going to be the last even of our second year."

They haven't attended any events yet, and they're not going to attend one now. 

"You know, we really don't care." Hikaru sighs, focused on his scribbles. 

"The one reading the book is Hikaru!" An obnoxious voice yells loudly into the classroom without warning. The twins glance up at the familiar voice, eyes narrowed and unamused. 

All of a sudden, Tamaki materializes before them, looking pleased with himself. 

"Hang on; you can't barge into our classroom." Kaoru groans, miffed.

"But was I right? I was right, huh?" Tamaki interjects excitedly. 

"No, you weren't. Sorry." Hikaru feigns apologeticness. 

Tamaki firmly places his hands on their desk and leans toward them, "But I've made a discovery! Hikaru is right-handed!" In his error, he now, for the moment, knows which twin is which. 

"Yeah, well, we're both right-handed," Hikaru informs. 

"Oh, yeah? Well, Kaoru always parts his hair on the right." 

Kaoru rolls his eyes, "No, we switch parts every day." His gaze narrows with irritation. 

"When you're harmonizing, the low part goes to-"

"What are we, a choir?" They scoff. 

The student who asked the twins about the event pipes up as she's still in the conversation, "Um, excuse me. You're Suoh-Senpai, aren't you?" She questions hopefully. 

Tamaki beams, immediately assuming a princely persona, "That's correct, my dear. I interrupted you, didn't I?"

His charming facade renders her flustered, and they seem to have gained a crowd of onlookers, "Um, no. Well, I-I was just inviting the twins to come to a class event." 

Tamaki gently slides her roster from her arms, eliciting a gasp from her and several other female students, "You're going to a film festival, huh? How nice. I'll put them down as attending. They'll be there!" 

The twins stand, pushing their chairs back, "Hey, that's our decision!" They interject urgently. 

They swipe their belongings into their arms with narrowed eyes, immediately heading for the exit when pushed to their breaking points.

"What are you doing?" Tamaki calls. 

"Leaving. You're annoying." Simply put by Kaoru.

"Hey, wait! What about our game?" 

"You're not bad, Suoh."

"But you're gonna have to try harder."

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You shove your book into your bag with a frown, catching Kyoya's novel title out of your peripheral vision. 

"No Longer Human? Really?" You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

"What? Have a problem with it?" Kyoya raises a brow, peeking at you over the pages of his book. 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" You imply. Kyoya rolls his eyes.

"Please, not everything is about you." He returns his diligent gaze to his reading. 

You fume quietly, steam nearly coming from your ears. You work harder in shoving a textbook into your bag, now with all the more vigor than before. 

You'll never understand why such a massive threat is hanging over your head if your only responsibilities fall under the title of 'errand girl.' He could have you eating out of the palm of his hand with this kind of power... but he merely wants you running errands and doing a high school club's bidding. Curious... 

"Why can't I leave, again?" You sigh loudly, hoping to catch his attention. 

"Because Tamaki mentioned he'd be back shortly with news from our latest recruit attempt- Ah, there he is now." You both raise your heads at the dragging footfalls near the door as Tamaki trudges in. 

He slumps into a seat in front of Kyoya's desk, and you wander over to stand beside them. 

"I thought you went to go see the twins today," Kyoya recalls, noticing that Tamaki is usually much more chipper after interacting with them. 

"I did, but they ran away." Tamaki sighs. 

"Can't blame them." Kyoya shrugs, returning to his novel. 

You narrow your gaze at him, rounding Tamaki's desk to absently place a hand on his shoulder. 

"Would you help me out here, Kyoya? It's for the club." Tamaki reminds with a hint of anger in his voice. 

Kyoya sighs, "Let it go. I mean, we can still form the club without them, right?" 

"No, we can't! I want them to be a part of it." Tamaki turns away from Kyoya with a huff. 

"Could you be more apathetic? I mean, really. Basic human decency isn't that hard." You scoff. 

A deep sigh, "Let me guess, they're also what you refer to as 'our friends,' is that it?"

Tamaki releases a hitched breath, gaze softening, "Well, yeah." 

"If it's that important to you, the offer for y/n to take up the task is still on the table."

Your head twists to look at Kyoya like he's sprouted two more heads on each of his shoulders. 

"What? Why are you offering me?" You point to yourself. 

"Firstly, as our errand girl, you're hired to do what we ask of you. Secondly, your recruitment of Haninozuka-Senpai proved successful, so the twins should be no challenge for you." 

You grumble. To be completely honest, you've grown indifferent to Kyoya ordering you around. It's become sort of an everyday thing. Of course, he doesn't seem to mean anything sinister by it, and the way he recruited you was rather corrupt and malevolent, but you don't particularly mind doing what you're told. 

You think very highly of the two newest potential recruits, Haninozuka-Senpai and Morinozuka-Senpai. They're both respectable students, and you're looking forward to spending time with them. Tamaki is also in high regard by your standards. He's completely pure and has your best interests in mind. You'd give him the world if you could, and he deserves it.  

It cancels out Kyoya's cruel ways of actually getting you to join the club. You don't think about it much anymore, honestly. You get the feeling that there may be something more significant than simply wanting you to do things for him. He may not even know it himself yet, but you're determined to get to the bottom of it, whether he knows it or not. 

"I don't understand what they're thinking. If they want people to tell them apart, why don't they wear different hairstyles or something?" Tamaki wonders aloud. 

"Maybe they don't want to be told apart." Kyoya pipes up, sounding uninterested and unfocused on the conversation at hand. 

"But that's the whole point of the game, Kyoya." Tamaki reminds with a groaning whine. 

"Well, then they do want to be told apart." You nearly snicker at his indifference. 

Tamaki turns in his seat with a pout, "Hold on, are you even listening to me?"

"Well, I hear you talking." 

"That's hearing, Kyoya, not listening." You shake your head, crossing your arms. 

"You know, Tamaki, perhaps they want someone to just... know them well enough that they wouldn't have to put any effort in on their end, you know? Just know them and their personalities enough to tell them apart whether they dressed the same or not." You begin to think about the notion yourself, reporting your thought process aloud. 

Tamaki's gaze softens at your assessment, brows furrowing to think about it further. 

"I could follow them around during study halls if it would make you feel better. Get to know them a little bit and report back to you?" You offer casually. 

"That's against the rules." Tamaki pouts, although grateful for your offer. 

"From what I recall, no, it's not." You pull up a chair and sit adjacent to Tamaki. 

"They only told you that the rules are you have one month to complete your guessing, no random guesses, and you just have to pick which one is Hikaru." You count on your fingers. 

"You're right..." Tamaki marvels.

Kyoya raises a brow. Suddenly, you're so compliant when it's another member of the club that requires your assistance. A strange feeling of something unknown twangs in his stomach. 

"But wouldn't they know you were following them?" Tamaki inquires with a cocked brow. 

"They don't have to. I can just watch them from a distance." You shrug. Tamaki beams. 

"Alright! Let's do it!" He pumps his fist into the air. 

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The next morning, Hitachiin Manor, front door...

"Today, Kaoru's hair is parted on the right, and Hikaru's is on the left!" 

How in the world Tamaki ever got their address and managed to show up in time to catch them leaving for school? The twins will never know. 

"Good morning, Hitachiin twins!"

But, at this point, they aren't even fazed or angry. Simply exhausted of his antics as they glance at him with tired eyes. 

"What do you want? You can't just show up like this." Kaoru reminds Tamaki of his seemingly forgotten manners. 

"Am I right? Did I get it right?" Tamaki ignores his question entirely with one of his own. 

"No, you couldn't be more wrong." Kaoru groans. 

Tamaki hums, "But I've made a discovery! Kaoru, you're pigeon-toed, aren't you? You should fix that." He puts his fingers to his chin in thought. 

"That's not true! How rude!" They exclaim in sync. 

Completely ignoring them again, "I came up with an idea last night. We can focus your brotherly love and make that your draw!" 

"Huh...?"

"A somewhat taboo and perfectly symmetrical brotherly love. The Hitachiin Brothers!" Tamaki exclaims excitedly.  

"So! What do you think?" Tamaki beams. 

Unbeknownst to him, the twins have already slid into their limousine and proceed to roll up the tinted window, "You don't make any sense." The limousine proceeds to pull away from Tamaki. 

He gives a chase, "Wait! Don't run away again! Come back here!" 

"What the hell is with that guy?" Hikaru grumbles as they pull away far enough so that Tamaki can no longer be seen. 

"I can't believe he showed up at our place," Kaoru adds. 

Glancing in the rear window, Hikaru finally turns to his brother, "You know, when he gets all dramatic-"

Kaoru grins, facing Hikaru, "Oh, yeah! I thought so too." 

"He sounds like some feudal lord!" Truly, the twins can read each other's minds. They break into laughter at the notion. 

They really do admire his persistence. Honestly, they've never had someone work as hard as Tamaki does to at least try to tell the two apart and gain their loyalty.

"I never thought I'd see a young prince character like him use that tone of voice!" 

"'Come back here!' he said! 'Come back here!'" 

"I bet pretty soon; he'll start talking in third person!" Hikaru snickers with mischievous eyes. 

"A feudal lord! What a clown!" Kaoru cackles. 

Once the initial excitement and laughter has worn off, the brothers each come to a shocking realization. 

"But then again..."

"This game's getting... kinda boring."

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Tamaki nearly chokes on his words, rendered completely bewildered, "Huh?" 

"Like we said, we're done." 

"Game over." Kaoru finishes with an affirmative nod. 

"What are you talking about? You're calling it off?" Tamaki splutters in disbelief. 

Lurking behind a support column with crossed arms, you carefully peak at the trio and pick up on body language. If you listen carefully enough, you can just hardly hear what they're talking about.

"We can do whatever we want." Hikaru reminds casually. 

"That's right." 

You can just barely make out Tamaki's hurt expression, and it makes you want to flip your lid and reveal your hiding spot. 

"'Cause we heard you're the illegitimate son of Ouran's chairman." 

You're closer than you ever have been to hurting someone before. Two someones, to be exact. Two someones with ginger hair and condescending eyes.

"Sorry to be so blunt, but we did a little research on you," Hikaru explains in the calmest tone for this particular topic.

"You've got quite a sad little life story, Suoh. I'm sure you wouldn't want us passing that information along." 

Even if they did, you'd be two steps ahead of them, ready to take them down at any chance you've got. 

"We found out that your real mother has gone missing."

At Hikaru's revelation, Tamaki's fingers twitch and curl into a fist at his side, his head hung and eyes cast down to the ground beneath him. 

"Be honest; you're just lonesome because you're all by yourself, right?" 

"We kinda feel sorry for you, but you can't force us to be your friends."

Kaoru allows his eyes to slip shut, "We are pretty lonely, but at least we have each other; that's more than you."

Kaoru can't stand to look at his defeated expression anymore. He stands to his feet, hands shoved in his pockets as he lets his fringe cover his eyes. 

"Hikaru, c'mon."

"Kay." Hikaru easily follows as Kaoru departs. 

Tamaki remains motionless, once again left to stare at his conquered reflecting in the still water. 

Tamaki looks after them, realizing he was underestimating just how strong their desire to be isolated is. He knows it only means he'll have to try his hardest now. 

It's time to call in the professional. 

"y/n, would you come here a moment?" You peek at him from behind your column at his request and stride over to his side. 

"Sure thing; what do you need?" 

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Once again, sitting alone in the deserted classroom, the twins fall back into their routine of love notes and trickery. They're not surprised that those types of messages are often left for them to read and analyze. The unattainable is always what draws you to something. 

"He won't go sticking his nose into our business anymore. But you know, it's kind of a shame." Kaoru sighs. 

"We probably could've played the game a little longer." Just one glimpse of hope, and Tamaki was it. They let it slip through their hands. 

Hikaru quickly deflects, "But I'm not up for being disappointed, not again."

We were always contradicting ourselves. We wanted to be told apart. We didn't want to be told apart. We wanted people to know us. We didn't want them to know. We were always looking for someone who would finally accept us. But there was no way that would ever happen. Not as twisted as we were. 

We were so afraid of someone breaking through our barrier and hurting us. We kept a strong lock on our hearts to protect ourselves.

"Hey, Kaoru?" Hikaru pulls Kaoru from his daydream gently. 

"It's l/n..." Hikaru removes his arm from his knee to peek closer into the window. 

"Really? She's the one that left the note? Didn't Suoh mention she's working for them?" Kaoru places both hands flat on the window. 

Just as Hikaru said, you wait in their usual victim's spot, hands clasped behind your back as you rock on your feet. You're not even in their class; how could you have received the note telling you to meet them there? And... why would you send the first one anyway?

They decide to disregard their suspicion and position themselves in their usual places. This time, Hikaru conceals himself behind the potted plant, and Kaoru is on the front line. 

"You're l/n, right? In the class above us?" Kaoru approaches bluntly. 

You turn to find him peering down at you with a smug smile. 

"That's me. I guess you've heard of me." You beam brightly. 

Kaoru's caught a little off guard but regains his composure nonetheless. 

"Well, you seem to have mixed my desk up with my brother's. You see, I'm actually Hikaru." Kaoru flashes the note along with a sheepish smile. 

You bow, "I'm terribly sorry. I must've not been thinking." Little do they know, you're trying your hardest to suppress your knowing simper. 

"That's alright, I understand, you're new and you don't know us very well." Kaoru smiles. 

"But... I was wondering if you could like me instead? I've always thought you were really pretty, and I think we could start something great." Kaoru inquires curiously. 

If it's alright with you, Hikaru, then it's okay with me-

You snort, "Now, how is that fair to me?" You chuckle, crossing your arms over your body and holding your elbows. 

Kaoru's practiced reaction is to call his brother, but your response renders him speechless, "I see, then- wait, what?" 

Behind the shrub, Hikaru falters in his steps, stumbling over himself just as he is going to step out at his brother's signal.

"I can't just switch up who I like! That's not how this works." You sigh, shaking your head with a smile. 

You peek behind him slightly with curious eyes and catch a glimpse of red hair, "Hey, is your brother over there?" You point toward Hikaru, and Kaoru whirls around. 

At that, Hikaru reveals himself with wide eyes, catching Kaoru's just as surprised eyes. 

You wave him over, "Come over here! I wanna talk to you." You grin widely as he arrives at his brother's side, blinking owlishly. 

"So... that means you're really Hikaru?" You point to him, feigning curiosity. 

Each twin lets out a hitched breath, staring down at you wordlessly, incredulously. 

"But... how did you know?" Hikaru's jaw rests agape.

"Am I right?" You interject quickly.

"Oh, by the way, I'll be standing in for Tamaki. I believe... I've won? Considering I followed the rules and all..." You place a finger to your chin in thought. 

Hikaru scoffs, stumbling over his words, "Y-You can't do that! It's cheating." He exclaims. 

You hum, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips, "No, you never actually said Tamaki couldn't hire someone to finish the game for him. So I don't believe he's breaking any rules." You shrug. 

Next time they play this game, they might need to be a little more specific on the rules.

"Then Suoh must've explained the rest of the conditions. Your reasoning?"

"Intuition." You place your hands on your hips proudly. 

"I'm kidding, but I know how you two play this other little game. You switch yourselves and reveal your identity at the last moment? I'm surprised the girls haven't caught on yet; it's quite simple."

Their hearts sink. So you don't actually know how to tell them apart... just that they switch who they say they are for the sake of a joke. They groan in incredible sync. 

"No way. We already told Suoh that he wasn't allowed to guess randomly, and neither are you." Hikaru groans. 

You giggle, "You both look exactly alike, and I haven't been watching the two of you for that long... I couldn't possibly be able to tell you apart this early." You shrug. 

"Wait, you've been watching us?" 

"At the request of Tamaki, seeing as I work for him." You nod proudly. 

"You ever think that looking so much alike is a talent in and of itself?"

You hum, "I believe my boss mentioned something about a 'two-in-one Hitachiin Brothers' act for our club, so you might want to start working on that." 

You ignore how their gazes are boring into your soul, or else you might even find it intimidating. 

"But while doing so, you'll have to remember that you are separate human beings with different inner workings and personalities, of course." You remind casually. 

"But, hey, let me try my luck some other time after I've gotten to spend more time with you at the club, yeah? I think that, with enough time and effort, I could make a pretty formidable opponent for your little game." You laugh, turning on your heel to waltz away and report your findings to your aforementioned boss. 

"That doesn't make any sense!" Hikaru calls after you with confusion. 

"It's contradictory!" Kaoru scoffs. 

You halt at that. Turning with a fond smile, "Being individuals is contradictory, and that's what you are, right? Two different people?" Your rhetorical question catches them entirely off guard. They'd never thought of it that way until it came from between your lips. 

They've had just about enough of your confusing words and your smug attitude. They storm over to you quickly, brows creased and frustration rising, "What are you talking about? If we play along with this silly 'Hitachiin Brothers' act like Suoh wants us to, you'll never tell us apart- we'll be even more identical." Hikaru growls angrily. 

"He didn't think about that, did he? How can we show our individuality if no one can tell us apart? It's always like this-" Kaoru's voice breaks, and he angles his head away from yours, clenching his shaking fists to his side. 

"We're the only ones who can tell the difference! No one will ever be able to win the 'which one is Hikaru?' game. And we've known that from the beginning!!" 

He's lost his composure, shaking with frustration, willing tears back into his tear ducts so that you won't see him so vulnerable like this. 

You merely blink, allowing a small smile to tug at your lips as you turn fully toward the pair, "If you've known all along, why is it that you look so disappointed when someone's wrong? When they can't tell which one of you is Hikaru?" 

And then, I remembered.

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"Well, I think you're Hikaru." 

The twins are back on the snow-covered bench of their childhood, sitting before the unsuspecting girl who points to Kaoru with the wrong name between her lips. 

"You guessed wrong." They deadpan. 

And after that, the little girl said...

"I'm so sorry. Please don't cry." She pleads desperately. 

They don't realize it, but each twin displays a look of absolute heartache at her answer. It was one of the first times that someone had gotten it wrong, and they didn't know why. 

I remember how surprised I was when I heard her say those words. In fact, I bet we both looked like we were about to cry at that moment.

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 "I would like to try my luck again, of course. I promise I won't give up until I can do it, and I'm sure if I set my mind to it, it'll be a breeze. But... I know this much for sure. If you continue to live your lives the way you are right now, keeping yourselves isolated in your own, safe world, I won't get to do that." You fold your hands behind your back, your smile replaced with a much more serious expression. 

The twins can't bring themselves to meet your eyes, gears turning wildly in their heads as they think about everything you've told them. 

At their silence, you take your cue to offer them something they need, "Wanna know what I think? I think we should all open the doors of the Host Club together." You cautiously extend your hand to them openly. 

They gasp, heads snapping up in sync to look at you dead in the eye. 

A carriage darts along an open, lonely dirt path. The horse whinnies loudly in the silence. But it'll only last for so long, come midnight. And midnight is approaching rapidly. The carriage will disappear eventually, as nothing lasts forever. 

"We can work on gradually opening up your safe world together." 

Their continued silence allows you to finally turn around, striding back toward the building smugly, "Oh, and our first gathering is going to be after opening ceremonies next year on the first day of school. I'll see you boys in Music Room #3 at the high school!" You wave cheerily, offering them one last glance before disappearing through a pair of doors leading inside. 

That day, we were amazed. She'd answered correctly and handed us our entire life story on a plate. She kept us intrigued.

And subconsciously, we were a little bit... just a little bit... impressed with her.

♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡        ♡

To say that your nerves are completely shot would be an understatement. Of course, you were completely and utterly well-versed in the task assigned to you, but that didn't mean you had to work through a bit of improvising. Luckily, speaking from the heart has never seemed to fail you yet. 

"How'd it go?" A disembodied voice nearly scares you out of your skin as you return to your classroom for your things. 

"How long have you been there?" You snatch your bag from your chair and hold it to your person. 

"Long enough. Are they in?" Kyoya shuts his book gently and eyes you expectantly. 

You sign, grinning fondly at the recent memory of the twins' expression, "Um... well. I think it went well. I think we'll be seeing them next month." 

Kyoya manages a small smile, tucking his book away and shoving his briefcase under his arm, standing to his feet, "Well, I offered Tamaki your services for a reason." He gestures for you to walk with him as it's almost time for all students to make their way back home. 

You roll your eyes, "You couldn't have possibly known that I'd be able to convince then." You scoff, falling into a comfortable walking pattern along his side as the two of you mindlessly wander to the entrance of the school. 

"On the contrary, I could have, and I did." Kyoya reminds smugly, almost playfully. 

You poorly suppress a fond smile of your own, "You're so full of yourself, you know?" 

As you exit the building and stride outside, you round the corner under the arched covering. 

"It's healthy to be a little full of yourself-ah." As Kyoya steps out from the coverage with you in tow, he's the first to be blinded by the afternoon sun. 

As he nearly stumbles over his feet, your first reaction is to grab onto his forearm to steady him, "Whoa, there. And you call me clumsy." You snicker as he straightens to shield his eyes. 

Just as he's going to retaliate, the clock tower chimes loudly at the top of the hour, heard throughout the grounds, as that's its intended purpose. 

"Time to head home, hm? We'll tell Tamaki the good news tomorrow. Otherwise, he won't be able to sleep tonight." You chuckle, waving him along as you continue your trek toward your respective vehicles. 

Kyoya allows himself a quiet laugh, "Indeed." 

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One month later... after school, following the opening ceremony...

The high school is vastly different from the middle school in Hikaru and Kaoru's eyes. They stand dwarfed by the large doors that lead to the ominous Music Room #3.

"Remember Kaoru; we can't let ourselves be moved by what that foreigner says." Hikaru reminds as they each stand motionless with their hands curled around the handles of the doors. 

"Yeah, I know. We're just here to kill some time." Kaoru reminds himself, mostly. 

"Right, that's it. We're just killing time." Hikaru parrots, chipper. 

"You're identical. You know, it's possible that no one will ever be able to tell which one's which."

You were right, lady. There's no one in this world who can tell the two of us apart. No one at all. I know that for a fact. But even so...

Hikaru quickly notices Kaoru's pained expression, "Let's open the doors together."

Surprised by his compliance, Kaoru gawks at his brother. It quickly fades to a determined smile. He and his twin lean their weight on the doors. 

"Ready, set-" 

You glance over your shoulder at the commotion, smiling widely at their arrival, "Hey, there! Come on in, welcome to the rest of your life!" You joke. 

And so... we opened the door.

The Door the Twins Opened

🎵I run and run a thousand miles, and I am barely breathing. Only the fuel of a passionate heart keeps this body strong and moving forward.

Could it be I found a place to rest? How far until I’m OK?

Trees of the town reveal the time has come once again to shift our shade and colors. 🎵

🎵The world always changes around us but weakness will always remain;

Through all the pain, believe in who we are right here and now! 🎵

🎵Raise one hand to the sky; raise them both lift them high!!

And you’ll cut through the darkness make it go!

The time to start is now! And I can show you how.

Start with me, and the world will be even bigger than ever before. 🎵

♡Next time, on Indeed...♡

Kyoya may be new to relationships, but he should know that couples' costumes are a must on the famous spooky holiday... even if the rest of the Host Club is matching with you, as well. 

♡We'll see you then!! ♡

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

and here's my bts blog💜

want me to write something you want to see? request something💌

have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ouran #haruhi fujioka #kyoya #haruhi #hikaru #kaoru #tamaki #honey #mori #hikaru hitachiin #kaoru hitachiin #tamaki suoh #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi #mitsukuni #ouran host club #ohshc #ouran high school host club #host club #kyoya fluff #kyoya angst #reader insert #x reader #kyoya imagine #host-club-hq #indeed #indeed series

[oldshrewsburyian]

Portraits of a Marriage was good, thanks for the rec! follow ups:

1. I fear I was not able to "get" all of it properly (especially the ending bits) because I have no grasp on Hungarian history whatsoever. Is there a book or article that you'd recommend for me to read on Hungary during/just after WWII for me to read before rereading Portraits?

2. Why do you think that Márai never named the writer character? At first, I suspected that perhaps the writer character was related to Márai himself in some way, but then the character forswore writing and I was like...well, Márai definitely didn't do that, as evidenced by the book existing, so ???

--interlude for random additional Portraits thoughts--

And this one's more of an observation, not a question, but. Each narrator added so much and sucked me into their perspective so strongly that I sometimes had to consciously step back from them because I caught myself thinking in the way that they did. For example, the drummer at the end had me thinking, gee, what is that culture that the writer and the second wife spoke of as a "reflex" and why is it so cool/the thing that the drummer feels is missing from his life? And only after a bit did I remember that from the husband's perspective, the (bougie? idk how to spell it sorry) culture was a strictly self-enforced and absolutely horrifying affair, not at all reflexive or natural, and prison-like. That he was dreadfully unhappy inside it. And even when the second wife mastered that upper class culture to the extent that she could, it did not make her happy either.

Wild! Wild times!

It's so like Parade's End on the surface, cause you've got the multiple POVs on a strained upper class marriage, downfalls caused by war, the class upheaval caused by war, lots of musings on culture/art and its meaning or lack of meaning...and then like. idk they're so different asjklsfdj;afsfdjs they just are. I don't anticipate ever becoming weirdly close to/fond of these characters the way I did the Parade's End ones

--end--

3. Do you have any recs of more novels that feature messed up marriages (or healthy marriages under strain) in which both characters get to be a POV character at some point?

thank you! 💛

Prologomenon: YESSSSSS.

My knowledge of 20th-century history is patchy, so I'm afraid I'm only going to have two recent historian-writing-for-trade-market books to recommend, because they both have further reading in the back and offer good brief intros: Goodbye, Eastern Europe, by Jacob Mikanowski (so good I'm still a little mad about it) and The Middle Kingdoms, by Martyn Rady (I'm still in the premodern chapters but it is one of those sweeping ancient-to-present histories, erudite and readable.)

Mmm, I view it as a deliberate ambiguity: the creation of a character who is and is not, or might or might not be, identified with the author. I think it matters that this is after Dr. Zhivago.

Interlude: Yes yes yes!! I'm so glad that you enjoyed this stylistic decision about how to represent the characters and how they are trapped and trying not to be.

3. Book recs! Forewarning that the degree to which these fulfill the requirement may vary a bit, partly because my memory of how POV works in some of them may be hazy.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera. Omniscient narrator rotates among multiple partners and it is so so so so so good. Most clearly conforms to rec request!

Embers, Sandor Marai. I don't remember the POV details here but knowing that you enjoyed Portraits of a Marriage so much, I recommend it heartily!

Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Classic for a reason. Lots of incredibly vivid vignettes.

Dr. Zhivago, Boris Pasternak. Belated thought: you have read Dr. Zhivago, yes?? yes??

Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy. Similarly: !!!! Omniscient narrator instead of first-person, but we still see inside Karenin's head and Anna's (and Vronsky's and Levin's and Kitty's and Stiva's (STIVA get your act together) and Dolly's and... I love them. Well, except Vronsky, tbh. But still.

[This got... so long. More under the cut.]

Written on the Body, Jeanette Winterson. Only one narrator but... thematically relevant/interesting, with unnamed narrator.

The English Patient, Michael Ondaatje. *incoherent sobbing* I would argue that this does meet the requirement but in ways that are... complicated.

The Children's Book, A.S. Byatt. *faint keening* The marriage is healthy but there are so many strains and I have so many feelings.

On the Edge of Reason, Miroslav Krleža. I am 94% sure that this novel involves infidelity as well as marital strain. Only one first-person narrator. Savage humor. Political turmoil. Also fascism and Stalinism because, well, it's Croatia in the 1930s.

Incidental Music, Lydia Perović. Three different POVs, infidelity, and I am fairly sure that both parties in one of the affairs get a narrator section.

The French Lieutenant's Woman, John Fowles. Thematically correct, I feel, but I would need to reread it (I really should reread it) to figure out how close it gets to your request.

Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks. Definitely has marriage with infidelity and multiple POVs. I may or may not remember the full list of POV characters who get 3rd-person limited.

Le Hussard sur le Toit, Jean Giono. I suddenly remembered this book and how much I love its prose, and I do not remember things about POV in a useful way.

La Reine Margot, Alexandre Dumas. Absolutely unhinged polyamorous situations, omniscient 19th-century narrator. This book is so weird and I love it so much.

Effi Briest, Theodor Fontane. This book is so good and so atmospheric and so unsettling and I know we get inside multiple people's heads in it, including those of both Effi and her husband.

Unsterblich sind nur die anderen, Simone Buchholz. I just finished this over the weekend and I have a lot of feelings about it. Is it a marriage if one of the parties is... a lot of sea goddesses? This is not a serious spoiler.

...apparently I have read a whole lot of thematically relevant fiction. Huh. I hope you enjoy! :)

#asks and answers #adultbooklr #sándor márai #book recommendations

[faithintheunknownsblog]

This is the most random shit that no one asked for but here you go!

Alexander Anderson x Reader Drabble

Anderson sits up, groggily rubbing his eyes as he tries to gain more consciousness. He hears the smallest bit of a ruckus and realizes that’s why he has woken up in the middle of the night.

Waking up in itself wasn’t the alarming part to him- has always been a light sleeper- but what DOES scare him is that you aren’t laying in bed next to him. Every night you lay your beautiful head on the pillow that’s right by his own, so why weren’t you there now?

Anderson knows that it has something to due with the noise coming from somewhere within the house, and he is going to find out what the noise is. He puts on his glasses and grabs one of his bayonets that he keeps right next to the headrest of his side of the bed.

Anderson follows the noise to the kitchen and he is met with the sight of you dancing around like an idiot. Observing the scene he also notices some weird looking food in front of you.

This poor man not knowing that you don’t know how to dance and eat weird food thought you were possessed. He ran back to the room, grabbed his Bible and Holy Water, then ran back to the kitchen.

“What the,“ you felt the Holy Water hit your skin and look at him, seeing the concern in his eye. “What are you doing?!”

“You looked like you were possessed!” Anderson exclaims, oh his poor soul. He is so confused why you’re laughing at him, “what?!”

Once you finally stop laughing you explain to him that you were just making a midnight snack and doing your food dance. The reason why you’re acting so out of place is because you haven’t slept.

“Don’t ever scare me like tha’ again!” Anderson says, so relieved that his beloved is just a weirdo and not possessed by some evil otherworldly entity.

“I won’t-” you stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, “I promise.”

Anderson kisses your forehead and watches you turn back to what you were planning on eating for your midnight snack. He wasn’t sure if it was even safe to consume by any creature, “what even is that?”

“It’s-“ you go on to tell him what the crazy thing you made is, and to him it sounds disgusting. You can tell that by the face he makes, but it’s good to you and he might like it. You sit on the counter and hold the container your food is in up to him, “just try it!”

Anderson very hesitantly tries it and it’s one of the most rancid things he has ever had touch his taste buds. He without any hesitation spits it in the sink and wipes his tongue with a napkin, “tha’s wretched!”

”Eh-“ you just shrug and take another bite of your food, “-more for me I guess.”

Anderson just shakes his head with an exhausted sigh, you really know how to give this man a run for his money. “I’m goin’ back ta bed.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you say and watch your beloved Scott man disappear down the hallway.

Once you're finished you throw your plates in the sink and leave them there for the morning, then you go back to bed. You crawl under the covers, careful to not wake him while you get comfortable on your side of the bed. Immediately he pulls you into his loving arms.

You have never needed to snuggle up to Alexander, because even in his sleep his body longs to feel the warmth of yours and he always embraces you in his strong but gentle hood when cuddling you.

You fall asleep with the biggest smile on your face, so happy that you finally found the one.

#hellsing fanfiction #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #hellsing fandom #hellsing x reader #alexander anderson

[yourfavepookiebear]

I just realized something. I'm not good at anything.

I'm not good at learning. I'm not good at teaching. I'm not good at concentrating. I'm not good at listening. I'm not good at working. I'm not good at pe. I'm not good at horseriding. I'm not good at rock climbing. I'm not good at hiking. I'm not good at running. Im not good at basketball. I'm not good at volleyball. I'm not good at football. I'm not good at roller skating. I'm not good at ice skating. I'm not good at maths. I'm not good at physics. I'm not good at chemistry. I'm not good at computer. I'm not good at biology. I'm not good at technology. I'm not good at researching. I'm not good at writing. I'm not good at cooking. I'm not good at speaking. I'm not good at remembering. I'm not good at comforting. I'm not good at being kind. I'm not good at being myself. I'm not good at being pretty. I'm not good at being funny. I'm not good at acting. I'm not good at singing. I'm not good at voice-acting. I'm not good at French. I'm not good at Spanish. I'm not good at Arabic. I'm not good at German. I'm not good at Persian. I'm not good at advising. I'm not good at analyzing. I'm not good at statistics. I'm not good at negotiating. I'm not good at convincing. I'm not good at eating. I'm not good at observing. I'm not good at creating. I'm not good at being creative. I'm not good at helping. I'm not good at respecting. I'm not good at dancing. I'm not good at..

I'm not good at anything. There's maybe two or three things I'm relatively good at : daydreaming, cleaning, and thinking. Heck maybe even at spouting bullshit and random nonsense in the middle of class.

Mom was right, I'm actually not good at anything. I always hated her for saying that but ig she was right. How will i even find a way to support myself when i grow up ? At this rate, even working as a Walmart cashier is too hard for me.

How will I find a job ?

Mom says I have to be a doctor but I doubt I'd even get accepted into a university, much less a med school.

Lawyer ? Impossible, I wouldn't get accepted and I'm bad at arguing, plus I'm mostly a pacifist.

Writer ? I have bad imagination and on top of that I'm lazy and bad at writing.

Singer ? I'm bad at singing and I don't have the looks.

Actress ? Im bad at acting.

Voice-actress ? Nope

Office worker ? I can only concentrate for 30 minutes maximum

Therapist ? I'm the one who needs therapy.

Police officer ? Nope, not a chance. Not only do I hate that, but I'm also pretty weak so it's not even an option.

Philosopher ? I'm good at overthinking but Philosophy courses need a lot of complicated math.

Mathematician ? I'm horrible at math.

Translator ? Maybe, if it was my last choice.

Soldier ? I used to want to be one, but I'm weak both physically and mentally and emotionally and psychologically.

Dancer ? Low stamina, I get tired easily and I'm bad at dancing.

Scientist ? It's super interesting to me but science is not my forté.

Carpenter ? Nope just no.

Maid ? Maybe, but the pay is horrible..

Waitress ? My voice cracks, I'm clumsy, and I struggle to keep my balance.

Rock climber ? Nope. My hands and feet are always super sweaty and cold asf. I really sweat a LOT, even if the weather is cold.

Hostess ? Idk man, doesn't sound too good

Flight attendant ? I really like that job and I think I would be good at it but then again I'm scared of heights and I'm not strong so I wouldn't be able to help a passenger eith their luggage.

Pilot ? Scared of heights.

Chef ? Cooking is just not my thing, I'm bad at it and I often get impatient while cooking, and I get my hands dirty easily.

Model ? I'm not tall enough. Plus i doubt I'm skinny enough bc to become a model you have to be as thin as a stick and as tall as a tree.

Assassin ? Nope, nope, just nope

Hitman ? // (^)

Spy ? I would probably trip on something or laugh and expose myself.

Bus driver ? I can't even ride a scooter/bicycle, what makes this an option..

Uber driver ? No, I'd rather avoid anything consisting of driving a vehicle, whether it's a car or a motorcycle..

Fuck hopefully if I get really really super duper lucky maybe I'll find a rich guy i could marry.

#vent #yourfavepookiebear #vent post #tw vent #rant

[columboscreens]

On the topic of Columbo, do you think his whole demeanor really was an act, or was he just Like That? Or somewhere more in the middle? Was he off in his own little world thinking bout crimes, was he just a lovely puppy dog with the authority to arrest you? Or a master manipulator?

por qué no los dos?

as i've said before, everyone has their own interpretation of the character and that adds to the enduring enjoyment of the show. patrick mcgoohan was at one end of the spectrum--he liked to think that columbo's warmth and kindness were completely an act, that under the surface he's naught but cold and calculating.

now me personally, i see no reason why a man can't be warm and calculating.

i've written about it elsewhere, but i think you can sort of develop a feel for "the truth" when you watch more of the show. note well that i've watched a sickening amount of this show.

columbo is shown in all sorts of situations throughout--with the murderer, alone, speaking to colleagues, tertiary characters, random strangers, his wife, even his dog. he's also shown in all sorts of moods--hungry, tired, sick, confused, lost, frustrated, etc.

and although he modulates his tone depending on how he's feeling and who he's talking to (e.g. he's sometimes annoyed/brusque with his colleagues, his "act" is always completely dropped when on the phone with his wife), and not everything he says adds up (keep in mind 70s tv movies were never intended to be scrutinized to this degree), it turns out on average his true demeanor is...nice. shocker.

columbo is first and foremost a man of impeccable logic. therefore it follows that the reasoning behind his facade is just as logical:

if it means arresting a guilty party, columbo will play up whatever needs to be played up, say whatever needs to be said, do whatever it takes in order to get someone to let their guard down or give him what he wants, and will not stop until his objective is completed. his means to the end vary based on who it is he's manipulating and what he needs. and that's really all there is to it.

besides the obvious advantages of being underestimated and lulling suspects into a false sense of security, people in general are more forthcoming with information when you're plain nice. they're more willing to put up with you being annoying and overly inquisitive when you're nice. you build a rapport faster when you're nice. to columbo, being nice comes naturally. ergo, to make your job easier, just be Really Nice! you can bare your fangs later.

so he doesn't "fake" any of this, he merely leans into it. part of his real personality is that he IS kind, chivalrous, respectful, and so on. his extreme manipulation is seen almost exclusively within the realm of playing the "arrest the murderer" game.

outside of that, he is a normal, observable measure of nice and polite to everyone around him, even those who offer him nothing--homeless people, service staff/clerks, random children, random strangers, his dog, etc.

tl;dr like all of columbo's other personality traits, he isn't "faking" them when he manipulates--they're there, and he knows it. he's simply leveraging them to get what he needs. and what he needs is that killer's ass in jail, stat.

#sweet little man is also highly manipulative lil bitch more at 11 #but he is nice fr fr #sorry anon i dropped another fat fuck essay #columbo #longpost #ask #text

[betouma]

hai... it's velvet (beyuwol & bejaeyoung) again. LMAO. who would've thought! today i'm here with asakura touma, a rather impulsive app... even though he's been in my head for weeks... so as you can tell i'm woefully underprepared but i'm happy to introduce you to him!

under the cut is a short rundown of his background and some plot/connection ideas! here is his profile (the only presentable page lmao). please LIKE THIS POST if you'd like me to slide into your ims. i also have discord/twitter upon request (and i'm definitely better at responding there... for the most part).

background

born in osaka, japan

has a messy family, grew up listening to a lot of fighting between his parents so he learned to take care of himself so he doesn't bother his already busy & stressed parents

eventually his parents divorced when he was in middle school, and he moved with his mother. his mother remarried, and touma now has a step brother who is significantly younger

unfortunately, his mother and his step-father also fight. but this time, not wanting his brother to go through what he did, ended up being the peacekeeper and the mediator. he learned how to analyze/observe his parents behaviours and traits and tries to get ahead before things blow up out of proportion (they start yelling at him too, it gets really bad every month, and he learns to tune it out somehow)

was always an artistic kid, he started graffiti art as a way to vent his frustrations because he has nowhere else to dump then. he ended up connecting with music for that same reason too

he can play the bass and the drums, was in a band in school for a while just for fun

loves dancing, fell in love with choreographing in general. he thinks it's a beautiful way to express yourself, he would make up random dances to trending songs that he can do with his brother

his mother and step-father started relying too much on him to communicate and the stress is becoming a lot to bear. graduation rolls around and they were too busy arguing with each other to come to the ceremony

he finally wants out, and he enrolls in a university in korea. his mother is hesitant at first because he'd be staying with his biological father who moved to korea, but she relents when he mentions that he got a scholarship

it still kills him to leave his brother though, and he doesn't want to but he feels like he'll start losing himself the longer he stays

ironically, he decides to major in psychology

also became a freelance dog walker bc to him that's his free therapy

plots/connections

friends from japan! he'd be happy to see people from back home. he's always welcoming and it's easy to talk to him, so he'd also approach anyone simply because of this one thing they share

someone for him to take care of that reminds him of his younger brother

maybe he... walks your dog sometimes! touma thinks he does a good job at it, but maybe your dog got scared of something that's out of his control and now it won't leave his house

inevitable... exes. someone that came from japan, or a summer roamnce when your muse was in japan, that he ended up meeting here too. he's also been here since at least 2-3 years ago, so a more recent ex can work too! he can be dense and 'too friendly', might've acted more like a friend than a partner. would've coddled instead of treating his partner like a proper equal because he's not used to being taken care of instead lol

dancing friends! someone he would dance with, share choreos with, film tiktoks with... things like that

someone who scared him when he was doing graffiti art somewhere and in reflex he sprayed you with his paint... woops

uni friends, fellow artistic friends, friends who can teach him how to sing, composing friends that he thinks are inspirational

an almost fwb situation except he thought he was genuinely going to your home to see your pet and to eat actual ramyeon. he did not get the hint!

someone who noticed that he gets a little too involved when there's an argument happening around him which is... a bit! worrying! maybe!

someone that can use a 'therapist friend' except he's actually a psych major and it kind of just happens

anything and everything! i love talking about dynamics and whatnot B)

#( ooc. ) #be:intro #/ haiiiiii wow!!!! #i am for sure making mistakes! #goodnight