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seoulmatez · 1 year ago

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୨♡୧ UMBRELLA — suna x reader. sfw. fluff.

requested by sage ( deactivated :'( ) for my rin round up event!

the one day you forget to stuff your umbrella into the side of your backpack, it rains.

not a light drizzle that would be mildly annoying at most, but the kind of rainfall that you can hear pelting against the windows—the kind that you definitely don’t want to walk home in.

you let out a huff at seeing the time. it’s later than you should be leaving and you can’t help but think that maybe you would have missed the rain if you had left an hour earlier like you normally do on any other weekday. there’s no telling how long it’ll be before it lets up, so, unfortunately, you’ll be stuck in this building until the weather clears up enough for you to make a run for it.

instead of making every minute feel painstakingly longer by watching puddles form on the sidewalk beyond the door, you turn on your heel with the intention of killing time by watching something on your phone. though, before you can make it to one of the many tables, your path is blocked by a broad body. when you look up, you’re met with unmistakable grayish-yellow eyes.

“so the rumors are true,” suna starts, eyeing you up and down before meeting your gaze once more with a playful smirk. “you’re bound to this school and can’t ever leave.”

in all the time you’ve known suna, you don’t think you’ve heard one serious thing come out of his mouth. you can’t be sure if it’s just you or if he’s always so flippant. you roll your eyes, shaking your head at his dumb statement. “it’s raining and i don’t want to get wet.”

suna raises his eyebrows. “no umbrella? i thought you were always prepared.”

there he goes again, taunting you like it’s a game. it’s been this way since high school and back then you’d respond to his jokes with jabs of your own. it’s never bothered you a great deal but right now, all you want is to go home and suna reminding you that you can’t serves as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“don’t you have anything better to do than stand here and make fun of my oversight?” you look past him, eyes scanning the lobby for a suitable spot to spend who knows how long.

something about your tone makes suna’s grin fade. it’s not jesting like usual and he’s afraid that the hint of exhaustion he hears in your words has to do with him. joking around with you is much less fun when you aren’t in on it—especially if his teasing has truly struck a nerve.

suna would never consider himself to be well-versed in kind gestures, but he thinks that he might have some way to make up for overstepping.

“i guess i could walk you home,” he offers. there’s a glint of doubt in your eyes as you stare at him. he isn’t sure if it’s because the suggestion is strange coming from him or if you think he’s no better suited to brave the weather than you are. suna can’t do much about that first one, but to prove that he can in fact get you home dry, he pulls out the umbrella from the mesh holding of his backpack and holds it up beside him. “i have an umbrella.”

part of you feels like a fifteen minute walk with suna—someone you would barely consider a friend—is bound to be at least a little bit awkward but a larger part of you is willing to put up with that if it means you can finally get off this campus. “fine. but only because i really want to get home.”

“of course.” suna nods. he steps past you to push open the heavy door, pressing the button to extend the umbrella. the waterproof canopy shields his dark hair from the rain and he jerks his head to the side in a silent gesture for you to follow him.

you do, careful to step close enough so that you’re also under the umbrella but not so close that you’re bumping shoulders with him. “it’s this way,” you point in the direction of your apartment building.

suna nods again and sets off, pacing his steps so that they’re in line with yours. other than the rain hitting the canopy and the sound of your footsteps, it’s silent. you cross your arms and shy away from the edge of the umbrella where water is dripping. it brings you a little closer to suna but the warmth emanating from him is preferable to the sleeve of your sweater getting soaked.

“so,” suna’s smooth voice cuts through the silence, “what were you doing at the sports center?”

you can’t stop your head from turning to look at him, though, his gaze is still focused ahead. seems like that point you made earlier suna never having anything serious to say no longer stands. you’re sure he’s trying to ward off the awkward air surrounding the two of you. you’re sure he’s just trying to be nice, that he doesn’t really care what you were up to, but you answer him anyway. “oh, i was interviewing for a job at the front desk.”

suna’s lips part as he readies to respond with one of his usual quips—something like being able to bother you more often if you get the position—but he quickly presses them closed. he’ll end up running you away if he keeps at it so frequently and that’s the last thing he wants. even though it may not seem like it, suna likes having you around. he likes it a lot.

so he settles for, “that’s cool.”

“the description actually sounds pretty boring.” sitting behind a desk, answering calls, and constantly being around student athletes isn’t exactly your idea of fun but working on campus is convenient and you need the money so you’re hoping for a call back with good news.

“i don’t know,” suna starts, finally turning his gaze to you. there’s a sparkle of playfulness in his eyes. “watching atsumu flirt and fumble is pretty entertaining. it’s like a neverending show.”

the mental image of atsumu flaunting his position as the volleyball team’s setter in an attempt to impress a crowd and maybe walk away with someone’s number makes you chuckle. “okay, that does sound kinda funny.”

your laugh catches suna a bit off guard but aside from his initial surprise, he finds it pretty. sure, he’s heard it plenty of times in passing before, though, never this close. and he’s never been the reason behind your laugh. it’s probably a little silly, but he thinks it sounds even sweeter when he’s the one who caused it.

the rest of your walk is highlighted by natural conversation; questions from you about volleyball and questions from suna about your extracurriculars. it’s uneventful and utterly normal and the exact opposite of what you would expect from suna. although, you don’t dislike it. in fact, you think you could get used to it.

time passes a lot faster in suna’s company and before you know it, you’re standing outside your building. it’s quiet again as suna holds the umbrella over you while you enter your pin to unlock the main door. an automated click sounds through the air and you pull on the handle so it doesn’t lock again. awkwardly, you turn to face suna. “thanks… for walking with me. and sharing your umbrella.”

he dramatically gasps, pressing his free hand to his chest in yet another show of theatrics. “was that a thank you i heard?”

suna is almost sure he’s taken it too far again before you smile.

“don’t get used to it,” you tell him as you step into the dry lobby of your building. before the door closes, you raise your hand in a wave. “bye, suna.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna rintaro #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

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nightcolorz · 5 months ago

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Asking you because I haven't seen anyone else mention this, but what do you think of 'Are you asking me or making me, maitre?'

Like Armand says this multiple times, and it's decades apart in very different situations, which makes me wonder if it's not just him being passive aggressive at Louis, it's a A Thing. Like is this something he used to ask Marius? Is it part of how merciful Marius was that he allowed Armand to ask the question? Or is it something he felt he never could ask??

AHHH!!! Love this question. Louis and Armand’s weird power dynamic rituals make me so so crazy.

i dont interpret it as Armand being passive aggressive, necessarily. When Armand says that in Paris Louis seems to perceive it (partly) as Armand asserting that Louis is reminding him of his abuser by pushing his boundaries, but I don’t think that Armand was consciously trying to get that across (especiallyyy in the 70s with Daniel). With the way Assad is preforming it, and the contexts of when he asks it, i definitely perceive Armand saying this as like, a genuine question 🙏. Armand isn’t shaming Louis for pushing him, he’s inviting him to.

The first time chronologically, in Paris, the hurt in Armand’s voice is kind of devastating. And Louis definitely comes off as off put/taken aback by the sincerity there. He’s basically implying that he doesn’t see his dynamic with Louis as a fun bdsm thing, he sees Louis as a genuine authority. And I don’t think he’s being passive aggressive mainly bcus I don’t think he is resentful or against this dynamic. I think the hurt doesn’t come from a perceived injustice, it comes from Armand’s sincere internalization that despite his decades being in power, he is always going to fall back into submission and servitude, always looking for an authority. He was trained to be that way 😭 Its how his brain was wired.

Louis is putting him in that position again and it’s coming so naturally to him, which is frightening for Armand, I think. He is so naturally and easily falling into the servant role, bcus historically, that role has been one taken by Armand for security and self preservation, which is likely how he sees it now too. Armand’s scared at that point in the show, and he feels disempowered, and Louis is handing him a safety net that he keeps falling through. And by asking Louis “are you asking or making me”, it’s kind of a “what are we” thing. Louis is putting Armand in the submissive dynamic but he’s not giving him the security that Armand is looking for in dynamics like that, sometimes he makes decisions for him and sometimes he disregards him, expects him to be independent. And that is probably suppperr unsettlingly for Armand, who doesn’t have any experience with lighthearted sub dynamics, and when put in that mindset is looking for instructions, clear guidance, a clear role. Their dynamic is playful but it’s also serious—Louis can and will use it to get Armand to do anything he wants from him without any prior arrangement, still in the guise of a sexual role play. Armand doesn’t know sexual roleplay 💀 He knows “sometimes I’m a slave and my master uses me and orders me to do what he wants”. And without any safe word or conversation, this is how he sees what he has with Louis 😭 and Louis is being very flippant with this perceived authority, which is distressing.

So by asking, “are you asking or making me”, Armand is like, are you my maitre or not? What is going on here 😭. He’s giving Louis the opportunity to tell him what he wants from him. Armand feels very unsettled by their relationship bcus he doesn’t know what is needed from him 😭 and especially when he’s being submissive, he is looking to play a role, do a job. Which Louis does not have for him 💀. Louis disregards the question by comforting Armand and telling him to let go of it bcus he realizes how seriously Armand takes his perceived authority and he knows that it’s wrong to indulge in that when it’s hurting him. Bcus 😭 if Louis said “I’m making you”, (like he did in the 70s, getting there), Armand would definitely obey him😭🙏. The way Louis responds is kind of dismissive, by both not answering the question and then leaving him alone, with a sort of pitying tone, he is leaving Armand even more unsettled 😭. It’s kind of fucked up 🙏 Louis is introducing that aspect of their relationship without any clear boundaries or expectations, knowing that by doing this he’s tapping into Armand’s trauma, and when Armand is asking for an assertion of how serious this is, how far this ambiguous authority extends, bcus he needs that to yknow, feel secure in this very triggering dynamic, Louis is like oh no how sad ur so traumatized 💔 and then fucking dips 😭. It comes off as a guilty move to me. Louis is (i think part unconsciously) Using Armand’s trauma response to get what he wants from him, and when Armand directly acknowledges that both Louis is using him, and he’s willing to be used, Louis kind of freaks out 😭 which makes sense. Louis is unspokenly pushing his consent, armand says does my consent matter, and Louis is like oh I’m sorry bye 😭. But the thing is Armand is genuinely asking, bcus he doesn’t rlly know what it means to have his consent matter, especially in a dynamic as familiar as this, he needs that instruction, that conversation.

a lot has definitely changed by the second time Armand says this in the 70s, bcus instead of freaking out and leaving Louis takes the bait, gives the order. It seems like by then Armand and Louis have established that Louis has ultimate authority, that he may not always use, but he is always entitled to. Which is probably very comforting for Armand in a traumatic way. He is used to security being “obey the master no matter what”, while the master is constantly using him and making demands of him, so it’s probably weirdly nice for him to have that familiar security and role while also having his own agency most of the time. It’s great for Louis because Louis is using Armand’s trauma brain to his advantage 💀. Armand has a warped view of his own self sufficiency and agency, and he finds it most comfortable and familiar to have someone there to tell him what to do, and to give him orders about what they need, bcus he has never rlly experienced a life without this. He has no concept of his own independence 💀so despite Armand being so much older and stronger then Louis, Louis is still able to have authority and control in this dynamic bcus of how Armand seeks that out and feels comfortable with it. When I say Armand is comfortable with it, I’m not saying he doesn’t feel violated and disempowered 🙏 I’m saying that he finds security and familiarity in being violated and disempowered. And Louis finds security in the control he has, so in a fucked up way it works out 😭 and it makes sense why this dynamic has persisted for so long.

When it comes to what u were wondering about how Marius plays into this, i think Armand is not trying to emulate an interaction he’s had with Marius, i think he’s trying to give Louis the tools to be Marius. Armand never had to ask Marius if he was making him, or clarify what was needed of him, bcus Marius always made that super, super clear. So by asking Louis this, Armand is like, be Marius for me, make it clear to me what I’m being used for. He has the agency to ask that question, but he is willfully giving up the agency to have the ultimate say in his own actions.

I loveee this “are you asking me or making me” thing so much, omg. Armand is like a pet tiger who looks to his handler for the go ahead before he rips a guys face off. He’s like a dog giving big guilty eyes when the owner scolds him for attacking someone. No matter how crazy and violent that domesticated animal is, it still has been trained to obey orders, follow commands, etc. Armand is looking for those commands, he’s never lived a life where he hasn’t had commands

thank u SM for this ask!!!! I hope i made sense in my response lol, sorry if it’s incoherent

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #armand #amc iwtv #the vampire armand #louis de pointe du lac #loumand #iwtv amc #iwtv spoilers #iwtv season 2 #iwtv s2 #Iwtv meta #Armand iwtv

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moontrinemars · 9 months ago

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Asteroid Pan in Natal and Synastry Charts

Once again, this information is compiled for my use and posted for shared convenience. Read my bio for a disclaimer and practice common courtesy if you're interested in using my words or work.

To start, we have to understand the context of Pan, whether as a mythic figure, a divine patron, or both.

Pan is a rustic god, whose domain extends over shepherds, hunting, panic, and folk practices, especially of music or prophecy. He is a companion to Dionysus, and travels with his nymphs.

🐑 Often, but not always, he is depicted as a satyr. Other times, he is represented with horns, but no hooves. Still other times, he is shown as humans, but in the company of satyrs, as well as normal goats.

🐑 He is mischievous, a giver of terror, as well as an eager pursuer of love and pleasure. But he is also a guardian of flocks, a practitioner of animal husbandry, so he is not entirely flippant and impulsive.

🐑 Essentially, Pan was a playful, festive spirit who enjoyed toying with the nerves of strangers and engaging in bestial mating rituals, but he also fully committed himself when guarding the vulnerable. He likes to watch people squirm, but he doesn't want to see the innocent flock actually harmed. Thus...

Asteroid Pan [4450] represents teasing, stimulation, excitement, and impulse control (or lack thereof). He also correlates to roles and relations based in pursuit, such as leader-follower and hunter-target.

Copy-text: 4450,3671,2063,771,577,65,69230,875,3360,60

Prominent natal placements of Pan indicate how such a position as his is fulfilled or obtained by the native.

For others who practice a faith that involves some form of the hellenic pantheon, I have listed how I interpret natal blessings from object-asteroid aspects here and are interested in my approach. You can interweave those basic interpretations with the ones I’ve provided and get a rough approximation of how I'd interpret the aspect.

Tight and significant conjunctions will create a sort of "wildcard leader" aspect to the native, empowering the native to vacillate between solemnity and joy when engaging with that role, while oppositions will invite a tension or controversy (that ultimately contributes to personal growth, if the native is healthy) from either pursuit of desire or acts of guidance.

🐑 John F. Kennedy is a great example of a Pan-Sun conjunction native. A steady leader who instilled feelings of unity, known for his lustful pursuits, maintaining good humor in the midst of strife, but certainly someone who spooked certain contemporaries.

🐑 Fascinatingly, his partner, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, has her own special relevant placement, a Pan-Venus conjunction opposite Pluto. Venus is the planet of values and is correlated to ideals and partners, so a conjunction draws her rational mind and physical needs to Pan-like personalities. Pluto opposition correlates this magnetism to her own generational traumas and transformations. That her Pan-Sun partner was assassinated sitting right beside to her? Worth noting.

🐑 Beyond her connection to her husband, however, Onassis was also a leader of the flock herself in her time as First Lady, mainly in that she became the face of an aristocratic American style. While her status is permanently tied to the tragedy of her narrative and the shock of the JFK assassination, her light, 'tasteful' ensembles contributed to the guidelines of upper-crust American femininity.

🐑 Meanwhile, Marie Antoinette had Pan conjunct Pluto, and we know where her indulgence lead her. Beyond the obvious tie from debauchery to death, this aspect also suggests a dread or anxiety tied to the concept of shepherding, or being in a position to guide.

A few other noteworthy individuals with Pan conjunctions and oppositions include:

Rita Hayworth, Machine Gun Kelly, and Empress Josephine all have Pan conjunct their Ascendant.

Lucille Ball's Pan is conjunct her Pallas-Saturn conjunction.

Pan conjunct Neptune was an aspect in Catherine the Great's chart. Meanwhile, Pan opposite Neptune features in the chart of Fiona Apple.

Pan conjunct Lilith is present in the charts of both Kurt Cobain and Princess Diana!

Marilyn Monroe's Pan was opposite her Vertex, and thus conjunct her Antivertex.

Squares and trines create relationships between that planet's domain and acts of pursuit and guardianship.

🐑 Like Jackie O, Tobias Forge of Ghost also has a Pan-Pluto opposition, but this is complemented by tight trines with Neptune and multiple Muse asteroids, as well as a square with Orpheus. In this case the aspect with Pluto manifests with an alternative influence on culture, as a frontman for a band which inspires both fanatical devotion and a consistent amount of controversy.

🐑 His project itself is a mockery of the powerful institution that is the Catholic Church, but concerts and fan spaces are a place of comfort, and funds from a certain cover song are literally donated to a charity which organizes safe spaces for the vulnerable (summer camps for trans kids).

🐑 Obviously, Neptune and the Muses correlate to art, which connects those Pan themes perfectly to his music. Even better, Neptune rules spirituality, delusion, and mystery. The band's theme is religious, and all members used to be anonymous until a dismissed court case forced Tobias to publicly identify himself, though all other members retain anonymity.

🐑 Britney Spears's Pan is trine her Vertex, Sun, and Lilith, as well as being opposite her Moon. The trine aspects, especially with the Sun, positions a spotlight on her ability to collect massive amounts of fans (aka followers) by making her own choices, and committing to the honest, unapologetic performance of sensual, intimate power.

🐑 The Pan-Moon opposition further speaks to her past and sense of self being in direct conflict with follower-following relationships. This may reflects her struggle to reclaim personal financial autonomy from her former guardians, but I'd shift focus to her relationship with the public, and how contentious it became when she tried to grow and leave her chaste teen image behind, prioritizing adult expression over imposed responsibility to censor herself to comply with outrage from parents.

🐑 This contention actually fed into and fueled Britney's narrative: the rejection of her after she expressed her wild side empowered her to pursue her desires as a new type of female role model, one that had been slut-shamed but come out the other side all the more iconic and beloved. (There's a lot more that worth exploring there, too.)

🐑 Liam Gallagher of Oasis has his Pan squaring his Sun, Mars, and Midheaven. Anyone who knows the fraught history of the band won't be surprised to see an aspect that promises challenges in how taking a leadership role relates to overall growth, animal instincts, and the personal pinnacle of honor.

A few other noteworthy individuals with natal Pan trines and squares (along with other placements) include:

Megan Fox's Pan is conjunct her Mercury, trine her Mars-Ascendant conjunction, and square her Moon.

Britney Spears's Pan is trine her Vertex, Sun, and Lilith, and opposite her Moon.

Liam Gallagher of Oasis has his Pan squaring his Sun, Mars, and Midheaven.

Major Synastry: What Synastry Aspects with Pan Mean

Synastry involving Pan indicates a relationship which instills anxiety, lust, and comfort simultaneously.

Conjunctions reveal a focal point of frenetic, kinetic energy in the dynamic. The Pan individual engages with the other's object like a big, red button that is begging to be pressed. They know it will fire up the other's nerves in whichever way, but it's just so tempting...

🐑 For example, two natives with a double Pan conjunction share a raw and mutual lust, a desire to play chase with one another. This can mean quick, stimulating, and playful foreplay. Both also want to see the other person's desire. This placement doesn't necessarily want a hunt - it wants a game, some sort of race or play-fight where both members are equally participatory.

🐑 It also indicates a willingness to play with each other's minds. On some level, both individuals like the idea of having the power to give the other a scare. They each like the feeling of messing with the other's head, no matter how much they care.

🐑 House overlays are crucial for mutual conjunctions. I'm looking at a Pan-Pan conjunction that lands in one of the native's 12th every time, regardless of zodiac and house system. This empowers the aspect of fear in the relationship for this native. It also transfers their pursuit to the realm of fantasy. They may desire to take that role in the relationship, but they are more likely to imagine it than to actually act upon it.

🐑 It also means the other person in the relationship may have no idea the lust is mutual. The 12th house native relegates it too well. This might frustrate the other, making them feel denied or rejected. They may sense reciprocation, but they feel a need to push the 12th house person until they break down and express it. But the 12th house native also won't be able to clearly see the other's playfulness and aggression for what it is: a signal of lust and even care, missed due to doubt.

🐑 For another example, Pan conjunct Saturn would give the Pan native an easy way to push the Saturn native's buttons. Saturn will clam up at any suggestiveness from or about Pan, mostly because any wildness they exhibit makes them feel less in control.

🐑 Ultimately, however, Pan is a guardian of the flock as much of a member of Dionysus's retinue. Pan can contribute to Saturn's goals and take the reins when necessary. Pan makes Saturn anxious, but ultimately Saturn comes to see the potential for stability there.

🐑 Saturn has major power to turn Pan on, but it takes a while to build. Pan may not consider Saturn that way at first, only to realize after some time that Saturn drives them absolutely crazy, and then they'll be hard pressed to stop fantasizing over them.

🐑 Pan is a follower as much as a pursuer, and if Saturn accepts their advances, Pan will adopt them as one of their own, and be sure to care for them regardless of whatever chaos is going on. If Saturn shies away, Pan may get frustrated and lash out, or may try to tear down whatever stability Saturn relies upon.

🐑 Princess Diana had her Pan conjunct the Pluto of Prince Charles, and Dodi al Fayed had his Pan conjunct her Ceres-Vesta conjunction.

🐑 Diana's ability to garner a following is tied to the tragedies defining Charles personally as well as those of his generation. Diana's grief and devotion connects to Dodi's capacity as a pursuer and follower. If you know anything even generally about these three, you likely immediately understand how accurate this is.

A few other noteworthy pairs with Pan conjunctions in their synastry:

Empress Josephine's Pan was conjunct Napoleon I's Vertex.

Prince Philip's Pan was conjunct Queen Elizabeth II's Pallas-Pluto conjunction.

Nancy Spungen's Pan was conjunct Sid Vicious's Lilith.

Megan Fox's Pan is conjunct Machine Gun Kelly's Mercury-Pallas conjunction.

Oppositions indicate a more fixed pursuer-pursued dynamic. There's a similar flow of energy, but it seeps out, and is both more confrontational and more indirect than with conjunctions. Pan seeks to provoke the other into revealing that part of themself.

🐑 For example, I see Pan opposite a Chiron-Juno conjunction. This is already made more complex by the involvement of two objects, but essentially, the Pan native enjoys maneuvering the other into exposing their romantic hurts, and even gets pleasure from indirectly forcing them into embodying a spousal or sensual archetype. Chiron-Juno finds the teasing, erratic attention of Pan frustrating, both sexually and emotionally, but also compelling.

🐑 So, that sounds really abstract, but how this plays out in real life, is we have a pair where one is always needling at the other about their experiences with relationships. Maybe the Chiron-Juno native is inexperienced, or has traumas. Once the Pan native learns about this, they find it hard to resist dredging those up whenever the chance arises. Something in them just likes watching the other squirm over their romantic insecurities.

🐑 As for the second part, the Pan native will find it exciting when the other has to fill the roles represented by Chiron and Juno. This is the soul's caretaker (Chiron) and the erotic counterpart in body and mind (Juno). Combined, we see a mistress-as-missus figure, the second wife, or simply the erotic healer. Chiron's link to the 'hurt healer' and Juno's statistical link to infidelity and eroticism may also suggest the willingness of the

🐑 Again, houses play a big role here. In this chart, Pan falls into the Pan native's tropical 6th and sidereal 7th, so the other's Chiron-Juno conjunction falls into their tropical 12th and sidereal 1st. The reason why the Pan native feels the need to push the other's buttons about is because they see the other's pain as something hidden from them that is key to understanding their place in this world, and yet also is a reflection of a crucial part of themselves, and so they feel the need to take control in their day to day interactions and of their relationship, specifically by exhibiting the leadership and predatory traits of Pan.

🐑 Let's look at another chart. I see Pan opposite a Pluto-Nymphe conjunction. Nymphe is correlated to nymphs, who commonly kept company with Pan in his travels. This looks like a relationship with both natural comradery and tension.

🐑 The Pluto-Nymphe individual may alternate between playfully elusive and intensely confrontational. The individual is both drawn to and afraid of being captured or hunted, and exposes their wilder side when they want to intimidate others. Their visceral desires and bright spirits only make them seem more ethereal, and thus, out of reach.

🐑 However, this only makes for all the more fun a game to play in the eyes of the Pan native. No ethereal spirit is above a good trick and no force of nature is too powerful to chase down, and besides, a target that positions itself as out of reach is only going to be more satisfying to take in hand.

🐑 On the whole, the amusement and protectiveness that Pan brings can provide some much needed levity to the Pluto-Nymphe native's fears, but the opposition and the asteroid involved will make the link a magnetic, if at times humbling and challenging, one.

🐑The Pan native will also encourage the other's sexuality, and may try to provoke, trick, or guide the other in their embodiment of raw sensual power as a natural force. In fact, the Pan native might be most delighted to find that when pushed to the brink, the Pluto-Nymphe native turns the tables and puts them in a position of prey instead!

Some noteworthy examples of Pan oppositions in synastry:

Napoleon I's Pan was opposite Empress Josephine's Lilith.

Prince Albert's Pan was opposite Queen Victoria's Vesta.

Nancy Spungen's Pan was opposite Sid Vicious's Pluto.

Megan Fox's Pan is opposite Machine Gun Kelly's Pluto-Lilith-Juno conjunction.

I had originally intended to go into sextiles and quintiles in natal charts; squares, tries, sextiles, and quintiles in synastry charts; as well as how aspects to specific related asteroids play out, but I think that's a little ambitious considering everything on my plate right now. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed the post, and as always...

If you're interested in more interpretations of Pan in the natal or synastry chart (or even the divisional/harmonic charts) feel free to reply, message, ask, or reblog! I have a lot of projects I'm working on but I love to chat.

#asteroids #astrology #synastry #natal charts #pan #sidereal astrology #vedic astrology #asteroid astrology #astro observations #natal astrology #synastry astrology #aspects #natal aspects #synastry aspects #asteroid pan #asteroid 4450 #mine #authored #long post

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ejzah · 1 year ago

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In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 21

***

They kissed for several minutes, unhurried and freed by their mutual revelations. Deeks could have easily spent all night with one hand along Kensi’s back, the other woven through her hair, lips playing softly against each other.

Unfortunately, the scent of perfectly spiced roast wafted towards from inside. Deeks eased away from Kensi reluctantly, kissing the corner of her lips a final time before he settled both hands on her lower back.

“I hate to say this, but we should probably stop unless we want dinner to be cold,” he said regretfully.

“Mm, I think cold beef tips sounds like a delicacy,” Kensi teased, eyes playful as she toyed with his collar. “But I wouldn’t want all your hard work to go to waste. Besides, we have all night, right?”

Running her nose along his jaw, the sensation enough to make him shiver, Kensi stepped out of his arms, spinning around once. Deeks’ eyes fell to her legs as her skirt swirled around, revealing tantalizing hints of golden skin. She sashayed to the patio table, leaving a stunned Deeks in her wake.

“You’re going to be the death of me!” he called after her. Kensi’s laughter drifted back to him as he wandered back to the house.

He filled two plates with beef tips, potatoes and gravy, carrots, and sautéed asparagus, adding each item with care. The whole time, his mind kept returning to the compelling thought of Kensi’s legs, the perfect curves of her shoulders framed by thin strips of red, the way he ached every time they kissed.

It felt like his awareness of Kensi had suddenly increased tenfold in the last day. Maybe it had something to do with basically admitting their importance to each other. Or the knowledge that for tonight, he didn’t have Caleb to distract him, for better or worse.

Putting a damper on his wandering thoughts, he grabbed both plates, bringing them out to the patio. He placed on in front of Kensi and the other on the setting across from her, then uncorked a nice Cabernet, and poured two glasses with a flourish.

“Impressive. Did you learn all this from your mom too?” Kensi asked, waiting for Deeks to it down before she took her first bite. “Oh my god!”

He was momentarily struck silent when she tossed her head back, eyes closed, the long line of her neck so inviting. “Uh, some of it. I also worked in a pretty high end restaurant senior year of high school through undergrad where I picked up a lot of tips.” Deeks winked, and added, “But don’t tell my mom that. As far as she’s concerned, she taught me everything I know.”

“I won’t say a word,” she promised. “So, I know you’ve worked for your mom, at a restaurant, and bartending before you became a lawyer, what else have you done?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I want to go there,” Deeks sighed, already embarrassed as he thought about his least favorite, but most lucrative college job.

“It can’t be that bad. I took a low level modeling job freshman year. It sucked.” Spearing another piece of meat, Kensi wrinkled her nose. He was dying to ask for more details, but given his own reticence, that hardly seemed fair.

When Deeks still hesitated, running his hands along his thighs, Kensi leaned forward, clasping his forearm.

“Hey, whatever it is, I promise not to judge. And, I’ll even tell you something embarrassing about myself.”

Deeks was touched by her offer, and after another moment of deliberating, exhaled heavily. “Ok,” he relented. “When I was in law school, I was an…exotic dancer for a while to make ends meet.”

Kensi’s eyebrows incredibly high, but otherwise, she gave no indication Deeks had said anything unusual.

“Huh, and here I thought you were going to say you made adult movies or were a male escort or something,” she said bluntly after a second, and Deeks snorted the sip of wine he’d just taken.

“Kensi!”

“What? That would be really surprising. No judgment though, if that’s what you needed to do to get by,” she continued, and Deeks was grateful for her purposely flippant response.

Monica had found his prior procession hilarious when he first told her, mocking him, and even going on to bring it up to her friends. She’d never seemed to understand his shame or embarrassment around the topic.

He slid his hand into Kensi’s, trying to communicate the strength of his gratitude. At first she seemed startled by the intensity of his stare. Then after a few moments, she relaxed into a smile and squeezed back.

“Ok, so what’s your big, dark secret?” he asked, and Kensi groaned.

“Damn, I hoped you would forget that part. Fine.” She took a healthy sip of wine, apparently for courage. “My sophomore year of college, one of my college roommates moved out of our apartment, in the middle of the night, while I was out cramming for finals,” she told him with the air that she was revealing something truly horrid.

“That’s rude. Why?”

“Ok, you are absolutely not allowed to laugh at this,” she warned him severely, and that alone had him fighting back a smile. She inhaled deeply and held it for a count of five. “She left a note that said I was too messy and she couldn’t take it anymore.”

Deeks snorted despite himself, and shook his head.

Before he could say anything, she added, “In my defense, I was super busy that year and I’ve gotten way better since then.”

He nodded with mock understanding. “I’m sure. If it makes you feel any better, one of my college buddies was arrested for smoking pot.”

“Oh my god! What happened?”

“Well, I already knew I wanted to go to law school, so I, a Junior with shoulder length hair and zero idea what I was doing, tried to negotiate his release.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t work,” Kensi surmised.

“Nope,” he said, pursing his lips. “Not even a little bit.“ He smiled reminiscently. “Shortly after that, Ray decided that college wasn’t really for him and dropped out.”

“Ah, I should have known it was the infamous “Ray” at center of this story.”

“Yeah, Ray always had a knack for getting both of us in trouble. Now he’s a mechanic and has a nice little family. So he turned ok in the end.”

“I’m glad,” Kensi said, and from her voice, he gathered she happy for his sake more so than Ray’s.

With a contented sigh, she pushed her plate away, leaning back in her seat, and stretching her arms above her head, flashing him a delightful peek at the top of her breasts.

Kensi caught him staring before he could look away, a knowing smirk raising the corners of her lips. Instead of stopping, she picked up her glass of wine, arching her back, deliberately accentuating her curves. Still holding his gaze, she lifted one sandal covered foot to the edge of Deeks’ chair, as she took a slow, seductive sip of wine. His shirt felt too warm and tight.

He swallowed thickly as her dress fell back to reveal her entire thigh. He suddenly had the desire to run his lips along the warm brown skin. Or sweep the dishes off the table and lay her down across its surface.

He lifted his gaze to Kensi’s, tilting his head in an unspoken question. She stared right back, a challenge in her eyes.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Kensi? Cause I’m not sure I’m getting the message,” he teased, and Kensi made an exasperated sound.

Sliding out of her chair, she walked the few feet to him, sliding one leg along the side of his. Deeks rose up to meet her as she cupped the back of his head, angling his mouth to kiss him.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #teacher Kensi #lawyer Deeks #self indulgent writer #once again 90% of this chapter is flirting #in miss blye’s class #part 21 #au #this will end eventually #ejzah fanfiction

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dumplingsjinson · 1 year ago

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Aite so like... It's a long post ahead, which is NOT about cat guy. It's about a guy friend I met on Bumble. We'll name him raccoon dude, because he wants a raccoon as a pet. I just wanna see if I'm getting the wrong impression, because I'm getting the vibes that he might like me (and upon telling my friends, they also said the same thing). ...Or maybe he's just really friendly?

To pre-face this, I was still active on those dating apps before me and cat guy decided to just see each other, and I met this guy before me and cat guy became exclusive. I told him straight up that I didn't want anything other than friendship before we met for the first time, because by that point, I knew I wanted to just see cat guy, but I was still on the apps because cat guy was being inconsistent (complained about it on here, too LMAO) so I was still in and out of those apps just in case.

Anyway. I'll try to bullet point why I think he likes me, but why I'm also getting mixed signals:

Why I think he likes me:

We were at the Apple store. I was looking at the green iPhone and was like "I love this colour" and then he was like "Yeah, that colour suits you." So I was like, "Okay, but why does it suit me?" and he answers, "Because it looks nice." So me trying to be playful, I ask him, "So are you saying I look nice" and this motherfucker dead ass says "Yeah." And when I continue to tease him about it, he doesn't say anything but smiles and laughs.

That same day, he forgot his keys, and his roommate had the keys (he has one set of keys) so we went to his home to get it. He let me into his place and we kinda just ended up chilling in his room for hours. I was laying on his bed and using his pillow and everything, and when I went home that night, this man texts me saying, "My pillow smells like your hair mist. It's really nice." And I was like ??? It's funny because I screenshotted the text and recounted the events to my friends and they thought I was talking about cat guy so I'm like newflkewnf

ALSO. I was asking him to unlock his phone so I can use his Spotify and change the music on his Bluetooth speaker, and he straight up showed me his passcode and everything. I asked him if anyone else knew his passcode and he told me me and his roommate are the only people who know his passcode. He also let me scroll through his phone and like... Let's be honest. You wouldn't let a friend do that, probably not even a s/o, would you?

I took a look at his contacts and I'm the only one who has a nickname. Granted, he calls me "Bestie" *insert my irl nickname*, while everyone else doesn't have a nickname. Then again, he had a lot of contacts so I skimmed through the list.

He KEEPS shouting me for things. I'm hanging out with him for his birthday tomorrow and he's literally treating me to this expensive ass buffet which costs like.. $130 per person. And he would not let me pay him back. He keeps paying for things, and when I tell him to give me his bank account details so I can pay him back, he never does. Always says "You can pay me back later" and never brings it up again. I try to shout him where I can but usually he likes to cover the bills.

And get this. He keeps calling me shit like "My love" and "my dear" and "my *insert irl nickname" and he even called my "my baby" at one point, which didn't sit well with me so I told him to never call me that again. He told me calls his friend that and they don't mind it so there's that, I guess.

He compliments me and is overall very sweet to me, and doesn't get annoyed when I'm being flippant with my decisions or being a moody lil bitch.

He also updates me whenever he can't talk, or whenever he's busy and needs to hop off from our conversation for a bit. Even cat guy doesn't do this (not that I mind because I know he doesn't text much, but I'm just pointing that out because like ?? Wtf??).

He'd also say shit like "I miss you" and "I can't wait to see you" and I get that can be platonic but with everything he's done so far... Hm.

Now this is where the mixed signals come in:

There is a girl he likes. It's funny because he doesn't have her under a nickname in his contacts.

He's going through it because of her; she keeps ghosting him, and then coming back, and it's a mess. He wants to confess, but he never does when he says he will, and at this point, I don't know if he ever will. When he talks about her, I can tell he likes her but she also frustrates him greatly.

He met that girl on tinder. It's also funny, because he met that girl on Tinder before he met me on Bumble (like, one to two months before, and by the time we met, he's already been out with her three times or something like that). After me and him met up, he decides to delete his pics on Bumble. His profile is still there, but he's not active on the app anymore. He never deleted his pictures after meeting with that girl but after meeting with me, he decides to delete his pictures? I asked him about it and was like "Did you delete because of the girl you like?" and he was like "Yeah, I guess I did." SO LIKE?? THE FUCK??

I asked him what he wants for his birthday and he's like "My dear best friend, stay by my side for the rest of my life. That's what I want for my birthday."

Man calls me a friend but then does all of that and I'm like ?? SO. WHO DO YOU ACTUALLY LIKE?? To be fair, you can like more than one person, but I'm out here like if he does actually like me then I'm gonna be so KLNESLKFNEW because 1) I told him from the start I liked someone else and, 2) CAN I GET A GENUINE GUY FRIEND, damn.

He JUST sent me a meme that says "Me and my homies entering 2024 without achieving a single thing in 2023" with an image of the Tom and Jerry making their merry way across the street, and I'm like "You did achieve something - becoming my bestie" and then he's like "That's the best part of 2023." And I'm like, "But wouldn't meeting the girl you like be the best part?" and he completely dodges my question. SO. THE FUCKK.

We were talking about his new roommate who's moving in tomorrow and I was joking about how I wanted to meet him and shit and man sounds like he's dissuading me from meeting the guy so I'm like... Huh. Not that I want to meet the guy after what he's been telling me but yeah lmfao.

And my friends are like "he likes you, doesn't he?"

And I told my manager about how I'm going to the expensive ass buffet for his birthday and my manager was literally like "...That's a good friend you have 👀" and I was like lknewkfnew GIRLLL-

So yeah. I'm just... Out here? And not the same friend who keeps insisting he likes me being like "Or maybe he could be your glucose guardian" LMFAOOO

We could be reading into this wrong, or maybe he does like me and that other girl but like... I hope I'm wrong lmfao.

#long post #personal #i'm getting mad mixed signals from my guy friend lmfao

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itsdappleagain · 2 years ago

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two weeks late? what do you mean? ...haha.

sorry i have excuses okay? I moved houses in that time and then got sick. like i said, lateness is becoming my brand i guess

anyways this week (last week) it is time for

The Opera in the Outback Caper!!

notes as always under the cut!

player's australian accent is hilarious

CRIKEY! AUSTRALIA'S ONE BEEEEEEEEEEG CUNTRY

bro the writers were researching australia and they saw carmen the opera and their eyes shot out of their heads like looney toons

according to wikipedia if this episode had gone like the opera carmen would have stabbed a bitch to death and then sung about fucking somebody all night from prison. but yeah carmen would have also ended up stabbed to death in the end so....leaning towards the bad omen scale

that fifteen person orchestra is really pulling its weight damn

can you imagine being gray in this episode he has literally no idea what the fuck is going on wheeze

this is totally way later in the episode but wait a minute if the vile device fried all the soundboards how the hell did the rest of the opera keep going

its gra-YUHM

that surprised pikachu face jdsghdjhga

god fuck i hate that he flirts with her im getting it out of the way right now so i don't harp on it later but i do not like it

SOMEBODY THAT YOU USED TO KNOWW BUT YOU DIDNT THAVE TO C (gets crackle rodded to death)

Gray Ham says enjoy the show and carmen walks like a penguin her ankles go WAY up

i love love love watching the progression of carmen's faith in vile go from her mostly playful, almost dismissive air in the start to realizing just how dangerous this all is and i think it starts RIGHT HERE, realizing that theyve killed crackle's memories of her and VILE

mentally i am the guy dressed as a soldier who is staring straight ahead and singing with one blank smile on his face

something about that swing and how carmen's coattails move is just mwah

carmen stays there for literally no reason how did you not see le chevre coming over to kick you in the back girl

that subliminal messaging device falling was sooo on key 🫦

so nitpicky but that opera singer is NOT opening her mouth enough literally watch any video of an opera singer their mouths are going twice that wide

the way she just plucks it from his hand is so funny

i love this fight btw. its so dynamic but its SILENT. and the entire fight is based around the need to not draw attention to themselves and disrupt the performance. very cool fight

like yeah the flips and the way they pull on each other's clothing and jump and use the bars and stuff super cool

literally the second time le chevre has done that exact same thing girly

that landing HAD to hurt SO BAD are you kidding

HOW DO YOU KNOW WHATS GOOD FOR ME

THATS MY O P I N I O N

also love how carmen goes in slow motion before this but the music doesnt thats hilarious

wouldnt it have been funny if as carmen the singer was singing her high note carmen the thief fell on her

love the standing ovation and curtsy for the uh. fourth song of the opera

player was in record mode because he secretly loves opera and wanted to record the live performance of his favorite habanera

HUAN HONK HUNK HONK HA HION HA HONK he does bleat like a goat

THE DEAR BOY COMMENT WAS SO BASED NOT YOUR DEAR BOY

i find it very hard to believe that le chevre is so flippant about the mindwiping thing seeing as dr bellum is potentially setting him up for the exact same circumstances today in fighting carmen lmao

i love when characters on screens look at things from the perspective of the. screen

"remix" its just you dr bellum

carmen: haha quip player: oh girl u fucked up girl

love Carmen's thought process of being completely unaffected by the thing that got blasted directly in her face just because she wasn't the target

player does the most

i love doctor denim jeans she seems like such a nice enthusiastic person

look at her shes so excited

what was carmen standing up there looking for anyway

pls player didnt even know it was gray but he knew. he was just like ffs carmen not the silver jambon

love how carmen is pinpointing his orders from vile as the problem and not. his willingness and ability to kill her

he's got good hearing wow

sparky is actually australian slang for an electrician. good to know. shocked crackle didnt name himself Sparky

love how crackles tone changes from joking to that dramatic "year of my life" speech i dont remember if they used that for flashbacks or trailers or what but its for something lol

"electrician" gray you sit at the desk and press buttons as far as we can tell dude

"yeah stranger go online and find some random guy to take you into the australian outback <3 my experience couldnt help you avoid a potentially bad situation there at all."

shes like four feet away and he's screaming lmaoo

it is just her name, honey maid

"the outback- may sound like somewhere you would take a man to shoot him but we have to save that for next season!"

mad respect for them primarily referring to it as uluru so it sticks that way and not the more colonialized name of ayers rock, which was given to it by, surprise surprise, a brit

its a miracle the car didnt break down in the outback after player told her to be careful in the harsh terrain. literally two episode ago he was like "be careful of altitude sickness!!" and then she died

god the music and animation in this episode are gorgeous though arent they?

miro is the most patient man on the planet

ivy being so fed up with him wheeze

carmen being polite and excusing herself from the conversation! never thought i'd see the day lol

i love miro he's just like what. what do you mean. who are you guys and he's right

for sure the only tourist in the car

where did carmen get those hot little pink glasses and coats did they mug a couple workers or what

ivy and zack's sibling dynamic forever

she is for sure like five feet from that door and should not be running for as long as she is while talking to player she is a split second away from crashing into the wall

pls the rocket is so close to the facilities it would take the buildings out

GET HER ASS ZACK AND IVY NO MUSIC IN THE WORKPLACE

anyone else love the animation when ivy's waving the id badge at mom jeans denim

zack's little salute ive never noticed that before

yeah your new interns. the most conspicuous american twenty year olds we can find who apparently blend in with every situation, including fashion week in milan

who voices bell bottom jeans because her australian accent is sketch is it sharon. it sounds a little like bellum

IT IS SHARON ok sorry queen your australian accent is not great </3

is there a "where in space is carmen sandiego" where zack and ivy go to an alien planet because i havent watched any of the 90s show but. that feels like it would happen

was player directing her through that or did carmen just randomly learn to hack too

love the single button to launch a whole rocket its so funny

brancusi jeans: that was the day i decided the laboratory is no place for opera speakers: opera in the laboratory skinny jeans: wow this is the best thing that has ever happened to me

i wonder if that cart wheel was 3d

ivy expertly tied that woman up great job ivy. ig she learned from boston lol. interesting tho- that is how carmen tied them up, and i wonder if carmen taught them

uh oh spaghettio

again cs color theory <3 with the button going green when vile's plan starts to work

also love how zack was just like "SHIT CARMEN SPONTANEOUSLY TURNED EVIL THAT SUCKS"

the rocket launched in less that 3 minutes! btw it will take more than 4 until we get to the final countdown. and we will cut down much of the space in between but its totally less than three ok

love the way ivy smashes through that door

wheeze the control panel at the top of the tower

zack's got the best australian accent out of all the terrible australian accents in this show. he could be on bluey

zack's cold chuckle before he tells el topo that the dingoes are mauling his boyfriend is priceless its so funny

adore the clear shock and horror in carmen's voice when she realizes what she's done. good gina moment thank you for a moment gina. oh nevermind that what have i done was sad and limp :(

AGAIN THE ANIMATION THIS EP. LIKE IVY CLIMBING THAT LADDER? MWAH

le chevre said grrr. WHAT? OUGH!

"let go" yes le chevre that is something she would do while you're dangling her a thousand feet above the ground

pls my video started buffering and it just went "OUT OF MY WA-" and then the screen went black ivy killed it

love ivy shes such a girlboss

still not sure btw how top and bottom arent recognizing the boston kids its. what the third, fourth time?

that little thing le chevre does i think must be a vile taught thing, which is interesting. he hooks his arms under hers and holds her there that way. i say that because in the s2 opener episode el topo does the exact same thing to carmen

the gays are so funny i love them

ivy comes very close to dying a horrible death this episode lol

"i've got you."

drops her

she did not have to slide down the rocket like that but thank god she did. hot of her. love that her hair came down and her glasses came off for maximum hotness she booked it over here you can tell

miro!!!

the two gays are literally just >:( >:(

shit my pants joke

everyone laugh

player is literally that friend trying to get his bff not to get back in that toxic relationship GIRL HE TRIED TO KILL YOU LIKE. A WEEK AGO HE AINT WORTH THE FRESH START BROTHERLY RELATIONSHIP

i do like gina's voice acting here though. she does sound like she's actually. feeling things

god the shots in this show are so pretty

look at that. art

even the light changing from green to red once she decides to blow him off. yes yes yes yes the red represents safety and certainty and as soon as that green light turns not only does it physically block her from crossing over to him just like she's mentally decided not to put it puts any question of vile completely out of the question

insert that tumblr post about wanting to make eye contact with someone from across a street and then disappear behind a bus here bc i can't find it

HOW IS SHE WALKING IN THAT DIRECTION THATS IMPOSSIBLE FOR THE BUS TRICK SHE JUST DID

woohoo carmen leading herself to believe that the only way she can keep people safe is to avoid them. im sure this wont come into play in any future searches for more familial figures of carmen's

i like all the human and animal remains in maelstrom's office. cool of him tbh

they wanted to say "bring me the head" so bad

anyway PAPER STAR! TRANSITION SENTENCE TO NEXT EP! i love next ep paper star is so cool. also beginnings of julethief. look, i have a transition sentence too.

next week is actually two days ago on saturday but thats okay ill hopefully get it done sometime this week, so i can be on time for being late this saturday. hope you liked this ep's notes <3

#cs weekly #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego weekly #rip this was done last night but i couldnt post it #csweekly

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pangolinheart · 9 months ago

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8 and 18 for the catted girl!

8. Someone my muse never met, but would have loved to. [!!! DARK KNIGHT JOB QUEST SPOILERS !!!]

It took me a few minutes to think of this, but I would have to say the original Fray. The "Fray" you meet in the Brume seems to have a little bit of the real Fray in them, but by the level 50 quests it seems, to me at least, like that's almost entirely gone. I don't know that Rhiki would have loved the experience of meeting the real Fray, because he had the standard Dark Knight chip on his shoulder, so who knows what their real dynamic would have been like, but she would have liked to meet him because he was important to Sid and Rielle, who are important to her. Plus, he probably has some embarrassing stories about Sid that she would love to hear. She still feels somewhat connected to him, despite having never met him, given that the soul stone she uses used to be his. If nothing else, it would be an enlightening experience. [/END SPOILERS] 18. Someone who can always make my muse laugh.

Early in her life, this would probably have been her dad. He was a lighthearted guy and was always making jokes and pulling little pranks. If she wasn't laughing at one of his antics, she was probably laughing at his expense when they got him into trouble. She gets a lot of her playfulness from her father.

Rhiki laughs easily, so there a few people who can usually get a laugh out of her, whether intentionally or not. Sidurgu often makes her laugh, but this is completely unintentional on his part. He thinks he's being serious, and probably doesn't appreciate her laughing at him. She can't help it, though. She just can't help but laugh when he says something corny and dramatic with an entirely straight face. She also thinks it's very funny when he gets flustered and annoyed at her and Rielle's teasing, so there's almost always a good time to be had when he's around.

Urianger also makes her laugh without realizing it, for similar reasons, Rather than by saying something brooding, though, it's usually by applying his archaic speech to something simple or inherently nonsensical. There's something both hilarious and endearing about his earnest attempts to understand some things through an academic lens. They've gotten a bit closer over the course of Endwalker, and during this time she's come to appreciate his sense of humor. He's learned how to catch her completely off-guard with a joke or bit, which makes her laugh all the harder at it. On the intentional side, there's Stephanivien. He has an upbeat personality that makes it hard not to like him and hard to be bummed out in his presence. If it's not his quips that make her laugh, it's his inexhaustible enthusiasm for machinery (and sometimes the mishaps that crop up because of it.)

When Haurchefant was alive, he was also good at making Rhiki laugh. She found his occasional melodramatics endlessly entertaining, and being around him just generally put her in a good mood. Neither of them mind a little mischief here and there, and had fun getting up to trouble together.

Though nothing like his brother, Emmanellain does a fairly good job of making Rhiki laugh, though somewhat like Urianger whether he meant to or not is always a toss-up. While his flippant attitude can be a little aggravating when poorly timed, when the mood is lighter it can make her giggle. And, if he hasn't made her laugh with his wit, he's never more than a few minutes and a few drinks from doing it by making a fool of himself. Between his "lessons" to the ever-patient Honoroit and his bickering with Sicard, being around Emmanellain makes for a good spectator sport.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ask games #asks and answers #rhiki tag #dark knight quest spoilers #drk spoilers #heavensward spoilers #patch 3.0 spoilers

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pararennial-archived · 1 year ago

Note

he’s rushing up to her doorstep with a cakebox and untied shoes, the tongue of his high-tops loose and floppy as if he’d tossed them on in a major hurry. “ I’m late! I’m here, but I’m late— ” (he meant to say those words the other way around.) the box is presented to her on a nearby table: the cake inside reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PLUS A MONTH ROXY! sorry (time is fucky wucky in the spirit dimension)”

the cake decorator must have been very curious about the story behind this one…

“sorry. you know how it is out there—” he gestures vaguely, not explaining where ‘out there’ was, or what he was doing. if anyone understands the cryptic and strange nature of their lives, it’s Roxy. “I brought you something!” he says instead, riffling in his pockets, from which he procures a large, red and golden feather. an odd gift indeed: but it shines with a subtle otherworldliness, and emanates a strange, captivating aura... “it’s a feather, from a spirit phoenix. it can bring a plant or animal back to life— good as new,” he proclaims, before suddenly… second-guessing this present. it’s rare, and highly coveted, but… “… I guess that’s kind of morbid… giving you a death-reverser on your birthday… but— you know. you never know when you might need it. roadkill, or, you forget to water your houseplant for too long… I’m gonna shut up now.” he sits at the kitchen table, thinking about cake. maybe he’d spent too long among the spirits and lost his conventional social skills. oops…

She barely bats an eyelash, frankly, at this point she is far too accustomed to Taiyang's sporadic bursts of absurdity. She only smiles when he storms in with cake in hand, miraculously not scuffed, crushed, nor mashed from him barrelling into her place unceremoniously. It has been a month since the milestone hasn't it, and it might explain why Tai wasn't around to throw her the Softest Birthday Party Ever as promised.

She doesn't begrudge him, last she heard from him he said he had to visit the spiritual plane. Likely to take care of usual business for Lady Mazu, it must have been important of course. She almost forgets that he also is someone guided by purpose, his oft flippant and carefree attitude contends with what he is truly capable of. That trait of his always has been endearing to her, and it's something she doesn't actively encourage, demand, or ask from him. He lets her be her, and she lets him be him.

❝No 'sorry's' needed good buddy,❞ she replies rising out of her chair to give him a hug, ❝Glad you're able to come over and celebrate... a month later.❞

She chides playfully, and releases him, although, not without giving him a soft playful punch in the shoulder. She is about to help herself to some cake, turning the box around in her hands, until something bright catches her eye. Cobalt eyes stare at the vibrant plumage held between his fingers. A sharp gasp is sucked between her teeth with she inches close to receive the gift, carefully cradling the phoenix feather in her palms. Tai's ramble goes mostly unheard, as she is preoccupied with admiring such a rare and coveted item.

❝Holy shit! How'd you get this?!❞ She breathes out while carefully turning the gift over in her hands, inspecting the brilliant gold-reflective scarlet. The gold seems to run and skim in the light, flashing with such fluidity that transcends any form beauty.

❝I need to lock this thing in safe, people would do anything to get this thing... I mean, there are people out there who'd do anything for a Klondike bar, but that's besides the point. Thanks, man!❞

She tucks the feather down into an empty ceramic dish, as a temporary home until she can find a better way to store it. Right now, it's time for cake.

❝You've spent quite some time in the spirit world and I think you're hungry.❞ She bustles down around the kitchen island and pulls open a few drawers and cupboards, pulling out plates, forks, and a knife. ❝Let's get this Soft Belated Birthday Party started, yeah?!❞

@velvetineblue

#‵ *.: ⚘ :.*・❨ 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 ❩・ ⏤ until i wake ‚ i dine on old encounters. ′#velvetineblue #:'3

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cave-monkey · 8 months ago

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Monkey King 2009 Episode 8 (Part 1/2)

This episode makes me scared for the future. It's so wholesome. This episode was all about what great friends these guys are, how much they care about each other, how important these relationships are to them, and I mean. It did a great job. It did a wonderful job!

They are definitely getting ready to rip them apart. They might let it ride a few episodes more only to spring it on us when we've let our guards down, but it's coming.

But!

Okay, so I already broke and talked a bit about Six Ears and Stone Monkey in this episode, so I won't go too crazy on that (maybe), but I do want to mention Stone Monkey's furiously intent expression while running to save Six Ears's life, and then how the second he was in range to attack that expression flipped to a smile. He also ripped Six Ears out of there and slipped back to a more serious expression when he asked him what he was doing out here all by himself. This entire episode Stone Monkey's kind of flipping between...really intense and then really flippant, which was interesting to watch? But also a bit whiplash-inducing. Jade Rabbit definitely took it as 100% real, and maybe it is - it's not like you can expect any version of Monkey King to not to be a little cocky - but...I dunno. I think there's some nuance there. It reminds me a bit of how he'd go from 0 to 60 when confronted with the four generals in Episode 6 compared to how carefree he might have been acting even just seconds earlier.

That smile is also only moments after he just watched the Demon King send Six Ears flying, and we got a shot of his face immediately after that too, and he wasn't happy about it. Stone Monkey, I think, can smile maliciously, but he still...hm.

I get the impression Stone Monkey doesn't really like showing that something's actually getting to him, especially when his "enemies" can see it. He'll pretend he's more confident than he is, or otherwise that it doesn't actually bother him at all, at least until he can't hide it anymore and it comes out of him snarling (we saw this in action in Episode 6, where he went from avoidance/running away at the beginning of the episode to passive-aggressive antagonism in the middle to having to be held back from squaring up to Marshal Ma at the end). Even when he's genuinely (or "genuinely") annoyed with someone, there's generally a sort of playful air of exaggeration, or he'll teasingly escalate for fun. What it looks like to me is Stone Monkey enjoys confrontation so long as it's basically harmless, but he doesn't like being actually angry. This might have something to do with the fact that when he actually loses his temper, he gets violent. We see this with the Demon King and with Ginseng Fruit.

Which isn't to say all his quick changes in mood are deliberate obfuscation. That's going too far. But I do think it's a part of his character that pokes its head out of the brush every now and then.

We also see a little of how people react to it. Stone Monkey was visibly struggling enough during his fight against the Demon King that Jade Rabbit was moved to help him a few times even though she was still very angry with him, and when she'd knock the Demon King down or trip him up (from hiding, Stone Monkey didn't know (maybe) that she was there) he'd immediately flip over to mocking laughter and confident poses like he hadn't been worried at all. This PISSED her OFF.

It also makes me kind of wonder how Six Ears perceives it. Both Stone Monkey and Six Ears will default to mocking and taunts and making fun when they can during a fight, so it's not like Six Ears isn't familiar with the tactic, but he also doesn't see how stressed Stone Monkey gets when trying to get to him before a rescue, either. He only sees the smiling entrance.

I'm feeling this out because of the part in this episode where Stone Monkey - for probably the first time ever - refuses to let Six Ears fight with him, and even throws him away from danger. (I LOVE that scene.) I have a lot to say about it, actually, and I'll get into what I think was going on from Stone Monkey's perspective there in a second, but from Six Ears's side that cannot feel good. Yeah, Stone Monkey's just trying to protect him, but he's also not trusting Six Ears to help. He's forcing Six Ears to leave his best friend alone in the middle of an enemy war party, because he doesn't trust him to help. That's got to feel like a horrible slap in the face, at least once the battle is over and Six Ears has time to process it.

And I'm sure that's not going to have any consequences whatsoever.

From Stone Monkey's side (didn't I say I wasn't going to talk about them that much? well I lied), going back to their earlier conversation where Stone Monkey asks Six Ears what he's doing out here alone, and then the look on his face when Six Ears explains (plainly and almost casually for the situation, like he doesn't realize he's rocking Stone Monkey's entire world) that he noticed Stone Monkey missing and went looking for him because he was worried that he might be in danger somewhere.

Stone Monkey's shocked.

It isn't that I think he didn't realize Six Ears cared about him before this moment; it's that this is the moment where I think it really clicked. That Six Ears will notice and miss him when he's not there, that he'll worry about him, that Stone Monkey has someone who will come try to find him when he's lost and help him when he's hurt. Six Ears has been doing this for him since they met, even outright scolding him for always vanishing without telling anyone, so Stone Monkey's definitely been a little slow on the uptake here, but I also think this is the first time Stone Monkey's heard Six Ears actually spell it out like this.

The progression of Stone Monkey's face during this conversation.

Six Ears also tells him not to apologize or say anything about always getting Six Ears into trouble, since Stone Monkey's always having to save him anyway. I mentioned before that I thought the sworn brothers thing was really important to Stone Monkey at the time, just because of how rough things had been with the troop and how nice it probably was for him to have someone willing to claim him and to let him claim them in turn, and I think this is something very similar. Confirmation that he's as important to Six Ears as Six Ears is to him. That they'll take care of each other.

Then fast forward a couple minutes and Stone Monkey throws Six Ears to the top of the cliff instead of letting him fall with him. I think this conversation is definitely a huge part of that.

It's not that I think Stone Monkey wouldn't have wanted to save Six Ears even before it, but I do think his emotions are running a little high at that moment. He saw Six Ears get flattened by the Demon King not long ago, they just had a very important conversation for Stone Monkey, and I think in that moment the thought of losing Six Ears when he probably feels he just got him (or had just allowed himself to believe he really had him, not much difference) was probably overwhelmingly horrible. He's already proven himself protective of Six Ears in the past, and I think that feeling is probably dialed up to a million at that moment, and so it's probably not surprising if he panicked and took a chance to shove him up on a high shelf for safekeeping. (Maybe Stone Monkey's mystic universe powers make him capable of recognizing narrative death flags and he said NOT TODAY.) (I kid.) (Or do I?)

There's also a possibility - way more of a stretch, not sure how I feel about this idea one way or another honestly - that he maybe now feels he can trust Six Ears to come back even if he isn't right next to Stone Monkey. That Six Ears won't leave him for dead, but will go get help and bring it as fast as he can, or will return to help on his own.

Or it's just that Stone Monkey 100% would have thrown Six Ears to safety in the past, but this is just coincidentally the first time there's been an opportunity. (Stone Monkey, shrugging: If you don't want to be tossed out of the fight, don't be so tossable.)

This ties into what I was talking about above (way, way above, oops) that Six Ears isn't always privy to the times Stone Monkey isn't confident. Maybe Stone Monkey didn't like even their combined chances and chose to save Six Ears because he genuinely thought they were going to die there when that tree went down, maybe he really did think he had a better chance of holding out longer than Six Ears, maybe he was going full big brain and knew that if he went back and tried to bring the army, there was a good chance the four generals just wouldn't listen to him, and it's just good luck that sending Six Ears lets him get his best friend safely out of the way. Maybe it's a weird mashup of many different reasons.

I don't think he genuinely believed he could single-handedly fight his way out of that canyon. I'm not sure if Six Ears knows that.

I'm not finishing this thought now, but I'm stewing on it.

And anyway, on a lighter note, most of Stone Monkey's intentions are totally moot because Six Ears - the universe's favorite trouble magnet - manages to either run immediately into another division of enemy soldiers (tiger guy probably had a grudge and went looking for him, actually) who bailed out of the canyon for their own reasons and gets tree-ed again for awhile.

There's also the possibility he took it upon himself to guide off some of the army from the canyon so Stone Monkey wasn't overrun while also handling the Demon King!

Anyway, I love these monkeys. This also totally derailed from being about Episode 8 so I'm going to do a part 2 to get things back on track.

#mhw09 personal #monkey king 2009 #images under cut #this is...this is ENTIRELY about six ears and stone monkey #I'm sorry I failed #the next part will be about more of the episode lol #this is what happens when I fall asleep halfway through writing these things they grow to monstrous size #anyway I just love how much these two love each other #platonic romantic whatever #on my own note while I do think peachbuds is very cute and I DO ship it #(sometimes - you know. headcanons. fluid and endless etc etc.)#I prefer to watch the series through the lens of it being entirely platonic #mostly because I don't really think adding a crush would actually change their interactions much at all #I think for these two the fact they're best friends is and always will be the first priority #even when they're older

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dancingisdangerouss · 2 years ago

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God I need some dexter mogen headcons just enything about dexter morgen x reader I am begging you. There is not enough fan fiction about him.

It is indeed criminal how few things there are out there for him. Which is weird, because I know you hoes on here love a suave, cocky serial killer with a thing for blood, so I don’t get why he’s not more popular. Like??

Anyway. Here are some headcanons I’m pulling out of my ass:

Dexter is a Dork. If you remove the serial killer/Dark passenger vibes, he’s like just a nerd with weird fascinations. He strikes me as a very scientific guy, like you could ask him about molecules or some shit and he’ll excitedly prattle on for an hour about it.

He’s doing his best to come across as a regular guy, so he would be a very thoughtful lover. Taking literal notes down about things you like, stuff you mention wanting, etc. so he can surprise you with gifts. That adorable, doting boyfriend couldn’t possibly be a killer, right?

Dexter loves blood. We know this. It’s his life, his work, his obsession…So like a vampire, he comes a-runnin’ like a faithful puppy anytime you’re bleeding from something, just admiring the wound with a sense of great awe before sucking on it.

He’s so into it, he’ll even do what some guys do with their semen, where they spray all over the girl’s face and chest, except with his own blood. Finds it erotic to cut himself at just the right spot to make the blood mist all over you, gulping and huskily muttering about how fucking good you look like that before plowing you into the wall.

He needs a lot of reassurance. He talks about being a monster and a bad person in a flippant manner, but I think, deep down, it hurts knowing what he is. He plays it off like “oh yeah I’m a bad guy who kills bad guys, anyway, want some fries?” but I feel like he actually feels hurt and isolated by what he is, and just craves acceptance.

Dexter can be… a tad possessive and overprotective. He’s loved and lost a lot in his life, and he’s not about to lose you, too. Any guy talking to you? He’s puffing his chest and posturing, intimidating the man to leave. Someone hurting you? Even just by giving you a playful smack on the shoulder? His hand is around their wrist in a serpent’s grip, like, “you wanna lose that hand?”

As seen in the show, he doesn’t think he likes sex and acts like he’s indifferent to it, but dude is a sex fiend. He loves incorporating his kinks into it, too—assuming you know what he does in his spare time, that is. Would love to tie you down naked with plastic wrap, take a sample of your blood and lick the wound clean, and fuck you while you’re bound to the lab table, whimpering and unable to touch him back.

He’s also a very verbal guy in the bedroom. A real teasing, silver-tongued bastard who knows exactly what to say to make your knees weaken. If you have any kinks, he’ll take full advantage of that, whispering the filthiest of things into your ear. I personally think he has a really nice voice in general, and would use that to his advantage.

Aftercare. BIG into aftercare. We’ve seen with his lovers he’s very affectionate and playful, and I get the vibes from him that he would want to ensure your absolute comfort, however you prefer.

#penny for your thots #he’s so underrated tbh #hope these were something along the lines of what you’re looking for?#it’s been a while since I watched Dexter tbh #asks #anon #dexter #dexter morgan x female reader #Dexter Morgan

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narrators-journal · 3 years ago

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High and Dry

Someone on AO3 asked for Dazai x fem reader smut, so here’s the little ditty I cooked up! I hope it’s fun to read!

Osamu Dazai had a rather nasty reputation and a slew of rumors around him, all of which, you were well aware of. However, he was also a charming, gorgeous man, so when you'd met him, and decided you enjoyed flirting with the bandaged detective, you both agreed to a more casual relationship. Nothing remotely serious, of course, but while you couldn't even trust the man to hold a sucker for you, you could very much trust him to get you out of your skirt and underwear for an entertaining night.

No matter the relationship status though, you had learned where he worked, and had visited the ADA once or twice in the time you'd been fooling around with the brunette, so when he messaged and asked that you go out somewhere with him for lunch one day you went ahead and agreed and headed into the office to fetch the lethargic brunette.

"Osamu, come on, get up," You said, coming into the ADA office to peel your partner from the couch he had long since claimed as his. "Mmmmmm, I think I just want to stay here. It's comfy," Dazai sighed, making a point to snuggle deeper into the back cushion of the seat while you huffed down at him, "I thought you wanted to go somewhere on your lunch break. If you were just gonna nap, why'd you text me?" You asked with a jab to his side, plopping down on the arm of the furniture to glare at the man until he finally rolled onto his back with an extra dramatic sigh, "Well I did, but now I'm exhausted," That just made you roll your eyes. "Fine, if you don't want to do anything, I have no reason to be here." With that, you got to your feet once more, only for Dazai's bandaged hand to grab your wrist, "I didn't say I didn't want to do anything, I just don't want to go outside and walk around."

You gave him a deadpan look that he matched with one of his sweetest grins, his warm brown eyes shining with nothing but a false sense of innocence, but you had already caught on to his game. "Well, what exactly did you have in mind then? To eat the gum from the undersides of the desks?" You asked in your best sultry voice, turning his smile more coy, "Can't do that, Kunikida has banned chewing gum from the office, there's no gum to be had." That made you snort, letting the brunette tug you more to the front of the couch, "But I may still have something you can eat~" He offered, giving your captive wrist a tug so you'd get the hint to be more on his level. "Y'know, if I do that. I might not be able to finish," You hummed, now sitting on the floor by his hip, responding to the pleading look he gave you with a playful roll of your eyes.

Deciding to use his request to your advantage, you reached over and pressed your palm to Dazai's crotch, feeling his member already semi-hard beneath your touch. With a few careful movements, he was squirming impatiently, so you went ahead and undid his pants and released his stiffened dick.

You felt Dazai watching you anxiously as you licked up from the base, to the tip of his length, feeling him shudder slightly at the sudden moist heat on such a sensitive organ. However, you took your time in teasing him and slipping his member in and out of your mouth noncommittally until the flippant brunette was once again beginning to squirm.

He likely would've pushed you down onto himself, but you could tell from the spark of knowing annoyance in his chocolate-colored eyes, he was aware that this was vengeance for him luring you there for nothing but sex. So, you had free reign to finally take his member into your mouth and give slow, shallow bobs of your head, being sure to press your tongue against the bottom of his dick so that he'd have to try to repress any noises that could get the two of you caught if his coworkers decided to return from their lunch in the cafe earlier than expected.

Sadly for Dazai, though, you were aware of the time he had for lunch just too well, so you pushed it and tormented him with your slow, pleasurable movements just until he was nearly on the edge, then pulled away completely to stand up. "Sorry dear, I'd rather not have Kunikida walk in on us." You hummed, casually straightening your dress while Dazai gave you a dark, betrayed glare. If you hadn't turned to stroll out of the office, he probably could've gotten his senses together enough to curse you out, but before he could, you were out in the hall once more and heading home.

A bit later, you got a simple pissed off emoji sent to you by the high and dry brunette, but you pettily left him on read for a while.

#Dazai x reader #Osamu Dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #x reader #ao3 ask #ask #not sfw

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etherrreal · 4 years ago

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“resentment”

Pairing: oikawa x fem!reader Genre: angst Summary: you used to love oikawa’s determination, his drive, his willingness to give his all and sacrifice everything to get the things he wants. now those are the same things that make you resent him. WC: 6,700 Warnings: lots of angst, explicit language, reader’s kinda petty but so is oikawa, relationship isn’t toxic or anything but it could def be better A/N: shoutout to @shadowkunoichi for this request! your ask gave me enough serotonin to last for the rest of the week <3 it’s also important to note that the moment i saw oikawa’s smug ass face on screen my brain and heart immediately went “this the one” so here’s some pain ft. my favorite setter -Dawn

The first few times Oikawa cancels your dates for extended volleyball practice, you tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. You’re disappointed, of course –you barely see him enough as it is, despite living together for three months, despite dating for a total of eight– but it’s not the end of the world. It’s just another compromise you have to make, and it probably won’t be the last.

That’s what relationships are about, anyway, you remind yourself firmly, whenever the silence of your too-big for one person apartment starts to get to you. Compromise.

You’re no stranger to compromise, either. You can’t be, not when you’re dating a pro-athlete. You know better than anyone how talented Oikawa is, how admired. He’s worked so hard, and you’re so proud of him. You may not know much about sports, but you do know that your boyfriend has an amazing career ahead of him.

And while the selfish part of you would like to keep him all to yourself, you also know it won’t always be possible, and you tell yourself you’re okay with that. You love Oikawa, and you support every single one of his dreams, even if doing so means you have to eat dinner on your own sometimes.

It won’t always be this way, you tell yourself. It’s just for now. And it definitely doesn’t mean he loves you any less.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It helps that he’s always sorry about it. You hear it in his voice whenever he calls you to tell you he won’t be home until late, see it in the guilty way his eyes search for yours through the screen when he FaceTimes you to let you know you shouldn’t wait up for him. He’s even more torn up about it than you are most of the time, blowing your phone up with apologetic voice notes and text messages with too many emojis.

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: babe 😔😔

[you]:: yes baby?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😔😔😔😔

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 😩😩😭😭

[you]:: oh boy

[you]:: you’re not gonna be home in time for dinner, are you?

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i don’t think so 😩😔 we have that game coming up so we’ll be practicing all night

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m so sorry baby ☹️☹️ but i’ll have to miss dinner again 😭😭

[you]:: it’s fine, i’ll just find someone else to share my chicken with

[you]:: speaking of, u have ushiwaka’s #? i wanna see something

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: STOPPPP 😭😭 i’m sorry!!!

[you]:: allegedly

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: stop 😭😭 i mean it!! i love you pls don’t hate me 😩☹️

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i’m really sorry babe ☹️☹️

[you]:: if ur apology doesn’t include dollar signs then i don’t wanna hear it

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: check ur email

[you]:: ??

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: 👀😇

You check your email, and sure enough, there’s a gift card there to your favorite clothing store, along with a note that reads “financial compensation for putting up with me <3 also if u ever share chicken with ushiwaka i’ll cry and then die so pls don’t.” It makes you laugh so hard you forget about being upset with him in the first place.

[you]:: i was joking!! u didn’t actually have to send me anything u weirdo

[pretty (annoying) boy 💙 ]:: i know 😇😏😘

And when he does make it home that night with an apology on his lips, a bouquet of flowers, and a promise that he’ll make it up to you, it’s hard to do anything else besides forgive him. Because you know that no matter how crazy both of your schedules are, no matter how lonely you might feel without him at your side, he loves you more than anything, and you love him as much in return. And for a while, that’s enough.

Until it isn’t.

You’re thankful to have successfully made it through your first year of grad school with just a caffeine addiction and minor bags under your eyes, but not having to attend your classes or meet with your professors over the break means you’re at the apartment a lot more. You still have your job, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore Oikawa’s absence.

It’s not just dates he’s missing anymore. It’s family events, outings with your friends, getaway trips the two of you planned weeks in advance.

You know it’s not his fault. He has things he wants to accomplish, goals he set for himself long before he met you. The Olympics are coming up, and he needs to be ready. You can’t blame him for staying late to get in some extra practice, or for having to attend events with his teammates and his fans instead of you.

You can’t blame him for any of it, at least not without feeling selfish and unsupportive, and somehow that just makes it worse.

It takes you longer than you’d like to admit to build up the courage to talk to him about it. You almost don’t want to bring it up at all, but after weeks of missed dates and apology bouquets, of waking up without him and going to sleep before he gets home, you crumble. You don’t think you can keep grinning and bearing it anymore, not without starting to resent him.

You confront him while he’s sitting at the kitchen island in the middle of your shared apartment. It’s rare he doesn’t have a game on the weekend, even rarer he gets to spend the afternoon with you. It almost makes you reconsider –will this ruin your time together?– but you hold fast. You know that if you don’t bring it up now, then you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that much more silent heartache.

Oikawa, for his part, does well to listen as you speak. He watches you intently, pretty brown eyes soft and searching, as you tell him about how neglected you’re feeling, how lonely.

You know he’s not doing it on purpose. You know he’s meant every single one of his apologies, and that this is what you signed up for when you agreed to be in a relationship with him. And you love how driven he is, how determined he is to succeed.

You just...you miss him. That’s what it boils down to in the end: how much you miss him. You miss him now more than that time he left to spend a month back home in Japan while you stayed in Argentina, despite the fact that you’re in the same country this time, despite the fact that you share the same apartment. It shouldn’t be possible, but it’s true.

“I know your career is important, and I would never try to get in the way of that,” you tell him, quietly, tiredly. There’s an exhausted air around you he’s never seen before, the kind of whispered sadness that breaks his heart. “But sometimes, Tooru...sometimes it feels like I’m dating a ghost. And I’m not mad at you, or angry, I’m just...lonely.”

You finally look at him, and the emotion in his eyes startles you. He’s actually tearing up –“you’re such a crybaby,” you like to tease him when his eyes water during sad movies, but you always comfort him anyway– and it’s enough to make your eyes fill with tears, too. He looks so sad, so broken, like knowing he’s hurt you –even if it’s been completely unintentional– hurts him too.

He’s quick to stand and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You return the embrace, resting your head against his chest while one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your hair, and you can tell by the way his voice shakes that he means it. “I know things have been crazy lately, but that’s no excuse for leaving you here alone. I never want you to feel like you’re anything besides the most important person in my life. I love you so much, and I promise I’m going to fix this. Things will get better, I swear.”

And in that moment, you believe him. You trust him, after all, and you know he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. So you let him mumble reassurances into your hair, let him kiss your breath away and shower you in the affection you’ve been missing for far too long.

It’s so easy to get lost in it, lost in him. Too easy.

He’s always been like that; charismatic and witty, magnetic and charming. It doesn’t help that he’s totally gorgeous, too. You knew, from the moment you met him, that if you ever let yourself fall in love with him, you’d be in trouble. It’s why you never took any of his advances seriously, at least not in the beginning.

But he was able to chip at your resolve with every teasing smile and playful wink, every reverent touch and whispered words meant just for you. He let you get to know him; the real him, not that flippant and perfect pretty boy facade he presents to the rest of the world, and so of course you fell for him, because how could you not?

Oikawa is stubborn and prideful, exhausting and even sometimes petty, but he makes you feel like you’re the strongest person he knows. He looks at you like you’re the only one he’ll ever want to see. He makes you laugh and keeps you on your toes, and you know right away –before you moved in together, before you told him you loved him– that you will never love anyone the way you love him, because no one else will ever be able to compare.

That’s why it’s so easy for you to believe him now. Because you know he loves you and that you love him, and the two of you are determined to make this relationship work. So when he promises that things will change, that he’ll be more present from here on out, you believe him.

It’s the first promise he’s ever made to you that he doesn’t keep.

For every event Oikawa does bother to make it to, he misses two more. Your parents, who adore him, wonder why they never see him anymore. Your friends start to ask if you even still have a boyfriend. You find yourself asking the very same thing.

You stop inviting him to events at your university and lunches with your friends. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment anymore, and you figure it’s easier to just save yourself from the inevitable. The apology gifts he gives you start to feel hollow, empty, just like your apartment. You stop opening them, letting them pile up in the corner of your living room. Eventually, he stops giving them to you.

You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if it upsets you even more.

The Olympics get closer each day. Oikawa’s practices become more intense and even longer than they already were. There are so many things he needs to do now: games to play, meet and greets to attend. Sometimes if he’s out too late he just doesn’t come home at all. The team sets him up at a hotel, and he stays there for the night instead.

It gets harder to catch his scent on his pillow where it lays beside you in bed, untouched and forgotten. It should hurt you more, but it doesn’t.

There’s an event being held back in Japan, promising a night of drinking and dancing and schmoozing. All the investors and international players and coaches will be there, and you promised a while back to be Oikawa’s plus one.

The vindictive part of you wants to cancel on him, just so he knows how it feels, but you decide you can put your pettiness aside for a few nights if it means free booze and food and a comfortable stay at some ridiculously fancy hotel. You wonder if that’ll be enough to fill the hole he’s made in your heart.

Besides, you want to remind him that you’re the kind of person who keeps your word, even if he’s not.

The flight is long and exhausting. So is finding your hotel and forcing yourself to get dressed, but you get through it. Oikawa looks unfairly stunning in his suit, but you try not to notice. He arrives at the party with you on his arm, wearing a silky gown that matches his tie and jewelry that glitters whenever it catches the light.

You’ve barely talked to each other the whole way here, but at the party, amongst his teammates, old rivals, and friends, you’re the perfect couple. You smile, laugh, and dance exactly when you’re supposed to. You play your role so well that no one notices how numb you are, not even Oikawa, even though he’s supposed to know you better than anyone else.

Maybe that’s why you find yourself at the open bar. Oikawa’s off mingling with god knows who, swamped by dozens of people who are always seeking his favor, trapped in his orbit. They praise his hard work, his tenacity, his determination. Once upon a time, you would’ve done the same.

But things are different between you now. What used to be Oikawa’s endearing stubbornness is now an outright refusal to meet you halfway. His determination to be the best has become an inability to compromise; his passion has become obsession. It’s strange to think how all the things that used to make you love him now just make you resent him.

But the liquor here is free and flowing so you knock it back like water, and it’s almost enough to make you forget your heartbreak, your anger. Almost.

All the drinking eventually sends you to the bathroom. You touch up your makeup as best as you can and wash your hands with one of the several different soap options, exiting the bathroom noticeably drunker than you were when you went in.

You’re off-balance enough that when you run into what feels like a brick wall but is actually just a tall, broad-shouldered man, you stumble and nearly fall over. He reacts quicker than you do, catching your elbow and steadying you back on your feet.

He asks you if you’re all right and you reassure him that you are. You swear you’ve seen his face before, but you’re too tipsy right now to bother to remember where.

“I appreciate the help,” you say sincerely, patting his shoulder. “But I promise I’m okay. Thank you again, really.”

He gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you, and he’s proven right approximately five seconds later, when you turn on your heel to leave and nearly fall over again. Once more, he’s there to catch you.

You try to convince him that you’re okay; you’re just a little bit tipsy from all the champagne earlier, but he guides you to one of the stupid velvet couches in the hallway and makes you sit down. He tells you to stay there and wait for him, and you want to protest but he’s already gone before you can make any real sort of argument.

When he returns, it’s with a bottle of water, which you sheepishly accept. He stays with you as you drink it, and your vision and stomach start to settle. You thank him again for all his help. He tells you it’s no big deal, and when he introduces himself as Ushijima Wakatoshi, you laugh so hard you almost spit water all over yourself.

Ushijima raises an eyebrow at you. “Is there something about my name that amuses you?”

“No, no, nothing like that.” It takes more effort than it should, but you’re thankfully able to force yourself to stop laughing. Talk about ironic encounters. “It’s just– I’ve heard of you before.”

“Are you a fan of volleyball?”

You resist the urge to snort, sending him an amused smile instead. “Something like that.”

The two of you chat for a little while, and it’s a surprisingly pleasant conversation. You quite like his company, and you appreciate how he’s willing to keep an eye on you solely out of the kindness of his heart, just to make sure you’re really okay. It’s hardly necessary anymore –the water’s doing a great job at sobering you up– but it’s a nice distraction from the reason you started drinking in the first place.

Or it was, until you start to hear that very same reason calling your name from somewhere down the hall. His voice gets closer and closer, and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself.

“What the hell?”

You open your eyes and suddenly Oikawa is in front of you, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a deep frown. You can only imagine what you look like to him right now, low-eyed and tipsy and sitting on a couch next to his oldest rival.

You can already see the anger in his eyes, the suspicion. He’s jealous, and it’s absolutely ridiculous because he has no right to be. Not after ignoring you for so long. Not after reminding you over and over again that when it comes down to it, you’ll always be second place to his career.

You haven’t been flirting with Ushijima, but now you wonder if maybe you should have. There’s a bitter part of you that wants to hurt Oikawa as much as he’s hurt you, even if it’s only for a moment.

Ushijima seems completely oblivious to the situation, which you’re sure just infuriates your boyfriend even more. He’s described to you in great detail how one of the things he finds most frustrating about Ushijima is how completely and utterly unbothered he is by everything.

“Oikawa,” the man closest to you greets, standing up. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ushiwaka.” The smile your boyfriend directs to his old rival is tight-lipped and void of any of its usual warmth. Oikawa’s gaze settles on you next, eyes narrowing even further. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is plain, dull, as you tilt your head at him mockingly. “Do I know you?”

“Stop being cute.” The way he practically snaps it makes it clear he doesn’t think you’re being cute at all. In fact, he actually looks pretty pissed, and you almost smile at the realization. As petty as he can be, it’s clear you’re better at this than he is. “It’s getting late. It’s time for us to leave.”

Ushijima’s gaze slides over to you. “Do you know him?”

But you’re not looking at him. You’re looking straight at Oikawa, at the tenseness of his shoulders, the way he’s on the verge of fuming. Apparently, just the idea of you being alone with his oldest rival is more concerning to him than the fact that you’ve barely spent any time with each other in the past two months. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Of course.” You stand, closing the short distance between yourself and Oikawa. “He’s my boyfriend. My loving, devoted, perfect boyfriend.”

You place the hand that’s not holding your water bottle against his chest, perching on your toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. When you pull away, the stain of your lipstick remains, and you wonder if he can feel the resentment in it.

“I just forget sometimes, is all. You know, since we never see each other.”

You don’t bother to examine the look on his face. You can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You turn to Ushijima instead, offering a tired but genuine smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Ushijima. It was a pleasure to officially meet you. Have a good night.”

You turn on your heel and walk away, down the hall and past several magnificent paintings, past any apology you would normally be ready to offer. It’s petty and deliberate, the kind of reaction you didn’t think you were capable of before this, but it’s all you have left. Oikawa doesn’t care, hasn’t cared for a while actually, so neither will you.

You don’t know what he says to Ushijima or if he even says anything at all, but you do hear his footsteps when he runs after you. They slow as he gets closer, but you don’t stop walking, don’t turn back to look.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What– what the fuck was all that back there, huh?”

You stop. Slowly, you turn to look at him, but you don’t say anything. You just stand there, watching, waiting, feeling absolutely nothing as you do.

“‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’” It’s a poor imitation of your voice, but the intention is there. “So what, I don’t spend enough time with you and suddenly it’s okay for you to flirt with someone else?”

You laugh without humor. “That’s what you’re stuck on? The fact that I had a conversation with him and not the part where I said we never see each other? You truly have a gift, Tooru.”

The frown on his face deepens, but the anger in his eyes softens a little, replaced by a hint of guilt. There’s regret there, too, over not keeping the promise he made to you. You would be more moved by it if you weren’t so completely infuriated right now.

He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “I’m not going to have this argument with you. Not here.”

“Where should we have it then, hm? In the lobby? At the hotel? We’re damn sure not having it when we get home, because you’re never fucking there!”

You don’t mean to scream at him, but that’s what comes out. You’re not sure which one of you is more surprised by it. Oikawa stares at you, wide-eyed and stunned, as if you’ve just slapped him, and you stare back, breathing hard. You’re so focused on each other you don’t even notice you have an audience until you hear a new, familiar voice speak.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi steps between you, concerned and cautious.

He’s the only one here, thank god, but his appearance reminds you that this is definitely not the time or the place for any of this. You shouldn’t care who overhears you, but as angry as you are, you’re not selfish enough to air out your relationship’s problems in front of all of Oikawa’s friends and colleagues. You still love him, after all, even if it’s hurting you to do so.

Iwaizumi casts a wary glance between you and his best friend, almost like he’s preparing himself to play the unwilling referee in what seems to be an inevitable fight. Any other time, you might’ve laughed at the look on his face, but not now. “Everything okay, you two?”

It’s not. It hasn’t been for a while, and right now Oikawa’s looking at you like he’s finally realizing that too.

The car ride back to the hotel is eerily silent. You and Oikawa share no words, no fleeting glances; you don’t even sit close enough to touch each other, not even accidentally. The ride up to your floor is spent in a similar fashion, a cold distance settling between you that’s never been there before.

Or maybe it’s been there for a while, and it took you screaming at him in the middle of a party for the two of you to notice it.

Miraculously, you make it into your room in one piece. The two of you remove your coats and shoes in that same suffocating silence. You make it to the bedroom without exchanging a single word, and he takes a seat on the bed while you sit in front of the vanity and begin removing your jewelry.

Another long stretch of silence later, and then he’s meeting your eyes in the mirror to ask, “Can we talk?”

You consider telling him to go fuck himself instead, but somehow you bite down the urge.

“About what?” You take off your necklace, a pretty golden chain with your birthstone on it that he got you for your birthday. “About how I wasn’t flirting with Ushijima? Because I wasn’t, if that’s what you’re still so torn up about.”

“I know you weren’t,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It’s a bit longer than you remember; that’s how long it’s been since you’ve really gotten the chance to look at him. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“I do. You were jealous.” Your earrings are the next to go, another gift from him. He’s scattered himself into so many pieces across your life; you’re not sure how you’ll ever be free of him, or if you’ll ever want to be. “But you had no reason to be. I would never do that to you.”

“I know.” He looks down, fidgets with his fingers, meets your gaze again through the mirror. His tie is loosened around his neck, making him look disheveled in just the way you like. “I’m sorry.”

“Great.” Your tone is short, clipped, as you finally remove the last of your jewelry. “Is that all?”

“Please don’t do that. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here, so that we can fix this. I mean, don’t you want to talk about everything, especially after tonight?”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to say, Tooru.” You break your gaze from the mirror, turning to glance over your shoulder at him instead. “You know exactly what the problem is, just like I know you won’t do a single thing to change it. You can’t, because my feelings –our entire relationship– all of that stuff’s always going to come second to the things you want.”

The frown from earlier is back now, this time paired with a hard look, like he can’t believe you’re questioning his commitment, even though he’s given you dozens of reasons to do so. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” You rise to your feet, a dry, humorless laugh escaping your throat as you do. “Tell that to the countless dates you’ve missed. Tell that to the bed you hardly sleep in anymore, to all the times I’ve fallen asleep without you and then woken up only to realize you still weren’t there.”

The words feel heavy and bitter on your tongue, your anger growing the more you think about everything you’ve endured over the past few months, all the different ways he’s managed to disappoint you.

“There’s nothing untrue about it, Tooru. You just don’t care about me the way I care about you.”

“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me I don’t care about you?” he demands. “Of course I care. I love you, dammit. How could you ever think I don’t?”

“How couldn’t I? God, have you seriously not heard a single thing I’ve said this entire time? I’m practically in this relationship by myself, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to change that!”

“You think I like having to leave you on your own so much? You think it doesn’t break my heart seeing the look on your face every time I have to tell you I can’t make it to all the things I want to be there for?” He’s on his feet now, hand jabbing at his chest, like if he could rip out his heart and show you the scars there, he would. “Because it does, okay? It makes me fucking miserable, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to be there, Tooru!” You don’t know when you started crying, but you are. You’re yelling too, hands shaking, voice raw. “You’re supposed to be there when I need you, not make stupid promises you can’t keep! And even if you can’t be there all the time, you’re at least supposed to try!”

“I am trying! I’ve been trying this whole time, and you know that!” He sounds as exasperated and raw as you do, waving his arms around, red-faced and distressed. “You knew what my goals were before we started dating. I never hid them from you. You knew exactly what I wanted, you knew how hard I would have to work, how hard it would be for us, and you agreed to be with me anyway! You promised me you wouldn’t let it come between us!”

“Well, that was before I knew how fucking impossible it would be!”

There’s nothing productive being exchanged between the two of you anymore. You’re just screaming at each other. You call him obsessed and self-absorbed; he calls you needy and demanding. He tells you to grow up and stop asking for so much, and you tell him he’s chasing a pointless dream.

You’re not trying to compromise with each other, or trying to make the other see your point of view. You both just want to hurt each other, and you do.

You’re crying by the end of it; so is he, but you both refuse to admit defeat. It’s one of the many things you have in common: your stubbornness. You’re out of breath and hurting and there’s a small part of you that just wants him to hold you, but at the same time, you can’t stand the sight of him anymore.

You storm out of the room before he gets the chance to, looking back to catch him throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. You throw yourself onto the couch and opt to sleep there for the night, because you know that if you don’t, you’ll probably end up strangling each other.

Oikawa, for once, is wise enough not to follow you, but there’s a quiet voice inside your heart that wishes he did.

You wake up the next morning with a stuffy nose and a migraine. The price of crying yourself to sleep, you suppose. Your appetite is gone but you know that if you don’t eat anything soon the pain behind your skull will only get worse, so you force yourself to stand from the couch.

You step on something hard, eyes widening at the indignant noise of protest it lets out in response. You lose your footing almost immediately, toppling over onto the carpet. It’s everything you can do to throw out your hands and avoid smacking your forehead against the coffee table.

“What the fuck, Tooru?” You scowl when you realize it’s not a random object you’ve tripped over, but rather your own boyfriend, who for some inconceivable reason is laying on the floor beside the couch. “It’s bad enough we spent last night fighting– now you’re trying to kill me, too?”

“I could say the same thing to you!” Oikawa exclaims, returning your scowl with equal exasperation. He’s rubbing at his chest, a pout tugging at his lips as he groans. “You just stepped on my chest. I could have died.”

“Oh, bite me, drama queen.” You roll your eyes, preparing to stand up again, but then you notice the dark circles on his usually flawless skin, the messiness of his hair, and the fact that he’s still wearing his suit from last night, though the tie is gone and the first few buttons of his shirt are loosened. “...did you actually sleep out here? On the floor? Why didn’t you just sleep on the bed like a normal person?”

“I couldn’t.” He pouts even more, and when you nudge his leg with your foot, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It didn’t feel right without you. It never does. But it felt even worse after last night.”

It melts your heart, you admit. Just a little. But it’s not enough to make you forgive him or to forget your argument, and right now he’s looking at you like he knows that too.

Still, you feel the urge to remind him, “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. Not just for what I said last night, but for everything I’ve done before that. I never should’ve made you feel like you’re asking for too much, because you’re not, it’s just…” He takes a shaky breath, leans his head back against the couch from where he sits beside you on the floor. “...it’s hard.”

He turns his body slightly so he’s facing you fully. He starts to reach out a hand towards you, almost like he wants to cup your cheek, but he seems to think better of it and lets his hand drop down between you. You almost smile.

His eyes are hesitant as they meet yours, apologetic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either.” You fiddle with the straps of your gown where they’ve slid down your arm. You were so exhausted and upset after your fight with him that you didn’t bother to change out of it. “...do you really think I’m needy and demanding?”

“Of course not,” he answers easily. “Do you really think I’m chasing a pointless dream?”

“Definitely not. Your dream isn't pointless, Tooru, it’s amazing, and it’s one I know you can reach.” Your hands brush where they rest between you. He tenses slightly, like he’s not sure you’ll want to touch him after everything, but you slide your fingers through his and watch as he lets out a quiet sigh of relief. “I was just angry.”

“Me too.” He squeezes your hand, and you let him pull you a bit closer to him, let him press a kiss to the back of your palm. “I don’t want to fight with you. And I definitely don’t want to disappoint you anymore.”

“I don’t want to blame you or resent you anymore, either.” You inch closer and he lets you rest your head against his shoulder, resting his own against yours in return. A clock ticks on the wall behind you. For the first time in a while, it feels like the two of you are back in sync. “So what are we gonna do about it?”

It’s the million-dollar question, it seems. And it’s the one that, after weeks of heartache, of missing each other and blaming each other at the same time, he finally has the answer to.

When you return to Argentina together, everything changes. Oikawa’s determination goes back to being something you love, now that he’s putting it towards making sure the two of you get to spend time together. He’s at the apartment more; does his best to get to dinner on time, to attend outings with your family and friends, and to meet you halfway at fancy restaurants and magnificent museums and shower you with his undivided attention.

It’s not perfect. He’s still busy, so he can’t be with you all the time, but the effort is there. You see it now more than ever, and it’s all you’ve wanted.

It doesn’t last.

You spend three blissful months together, both of you putting in an equal amount of effort to make it work, to understand each other and support each other, even when it seems impossible. But Oikawa’s schedule becomes more and more unyielding as time goes on, and it’s not long before the cycle of absence starts all over again.

If you had to really pinpoint the beginning of the end, you’d say it’s the night of your presentation. The research project you’ve spent countless hours working on has finally been completed, and tonight you’re going to share it with the public; this thing you’ve struggled with since you entered grad school, this thing you’ve put your blood, sweat, and tears into, both metaphorically and literally.

It goes incredibly well, as your professors and mentors reassured you it would. Your classmates, friends, and parents are all there, and they get to watch and glow with pride as the room erupts into applause once you finish your presentation, knocking the whole thing out of the park just like they knew you would.

The only one who isn’t there is Oikawa, despite you telling him about this ages ago, despite it being written on the calendar hanging on your fridge. You know he texted you with some excuse, but you don’t bother to check which one it was this time.

It should hurt more. It should make you want to shout and scream, to sob and cry, but it doesn’t. The anger you felt before, the fury and heartbreak; it’s not there anymore. It’s gone. You’re not sad or upset or disappointed. You just don’t feel anything at all.

Your friends offer to take you out for the night to celebrate, but you politely decline. Instead, you make your way to the apartment you share with Oikawa, finding it emptier than it’s ever been before.

Months ago, you might’ve cried. Now you do nothing, say nothing, feel nothing. It’s just numb.

By the time Oikawa does make it home, you’re already packed. You’re sitting at the table, waiting, still as a statue. He greets you in a flurry of brown hair and frantic movement, an apology you don’t care to listen to fast on his lips. He whirls by you so quickly he doesn’t even notice your bags stacked next to you.

“Shit, baby, I’m so sorry! I know I’m late, but I’m here now and I promise I won’t be going anywhere for the next few–…”

It takes him a few moments, a couple of double-takes, but finally, he registers the silence around him, the sight of you at the table, surrounded by your things. For once, he has no idea what to say; you see it in the way he looks at you, the way he freezes, wide-eyed and almost afraid.

“My research presentation was today,” you start. “It went great. They’re going to publish it in a journal.”

You watch his face crumple right before your eyes, watch the way his shoulders slump. He looks more defeated now than during any of his previous losses, and so, so incredibly guilty.

“But I thought it wasn’t until–...but it was, wasn’t it? Oh, god. I– I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You stand up. The smile you send him is tired and a little sad, but it’s not bitter, at least not anymore. You’re past that now. You’d like to think you both are.

“I’m so proud of you, Tooru. You work harder than anybody I’ve ever known. I just know you’re going to reach every single one of your dreams.”

You mean it, too. Oikawa has an incredible future ahead of him. You’ve always known that. Once upon a time, you believed you might be a part of it, but not anymore.

“...but I also know that I can’t be with you when you do. I can’t– I won’t be second place for the rest of my life.”

He’s incredibly stubborn, and this time is no different. He tries to change your mind, tries to convince you to stay, but it’s far too little and far too late. Too much has happened between you two, and you just don’t have it in you to be disappointed anymore.

You love him. You do. You always will, and you tell him so, too. But just because you love someone, you remind him softly, doesn’t mean you’re meant to be with them. You love him enough to let him go, and you’re hoping he loves you the same.

“But you promised you’d stay,” he whispers, more heartbroken than you’ve ever seen him over all of this, over you. “You promised we’d figure it out. And now...now you’re just giving up on us?”

You place your keys on the table. The clock in your– no, his kitchen ticks along. It matches the slow, broken beating of your heart. He’s run out of time, and you’ve run out of chances.

“That’s just it, Tooru. I have nothing left to give you.”

This time when you leave, you don’t look back.

Written by: Dawn

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #our writing #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru angst #dawn writes

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐖𝐈 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: wherever they go, it seems they can’t escape each other

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.09k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smoking, drinking, kissing, getting ~steamy~, but nothing explicit.

𝐚/𝐧: this kinda feels melodramatic at times, but over all i think this is an alright fic that took me forever LOL! i hope you enjoy it! btw,

this can be read as ben!rog or just rog, i just was thinking of ben!rog when i wrote it

also if u wanna listen to kiwi while listening, the vibes would be immaculate and i reccomend it :D kk enjoy

✺🎬✺

Her footsteps were mute as she padded forward on the concrete, searching furiously through her crochet bag. The box in her hands stayed tightly gripped though, Roger noted. He waited a bit until he was certain she had no chance of finding what he thought she was looking for, and that he would be her last resort.

“Need a light?”

He watched with careful eyes as the girl next to him fumbled about to pick out a cigarette from the nearly emptied box, probably just some cheap ones from the gas station near the dorms.

“Yes, thanks.”

The brunet nodded, bringing his forward to her’s and inhaling, a few loose embers falling to the ground in a sparkling orange flurry.

Roger observed the way her chipped nails on ring adorned fingers shakily held the cigarette as she brought it to her lips, taking a very long drag.

It was windy out that night (which was the reason he was telling himself he decided not to bother with his Zippo), her silky black dress doing barely a thing to keep her covered from the chilly temperatures. He noticed the blue tint to her formerly painted lips, only a pale stain of color left behind. He also happened to notice the goosebumps that graced her exposed arms and legs, and her slight shiver that came with it.

The girl nervously adjusted the twisted strap to her purse, sending a glance in Rog’s direction every once in a while, but mostly she kept her gaze fixed on the stars above. She seemed to be mesmerized by the way they twinkled so brightly, even in the polluted sky. The bottles of liquor in her purse clinked together, and she cringed visibly at the sound, a shiver being sent through her bones.

He smiled at her behavior, oddly endeared by it, perhaps even enchanted.

“What’s your name?”

She turned, taking the stick from between her lips. Roger kept his eyes glued to the plump flesh momentarily despite the movement away from the area.

“That’s none of your business, Roger.” She smiled, a playful look set ablaze in her eyes.

He looked down, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“How do you know my name, then?” He questioned curiously, slanting his eyes and quirking a brow.

“Your band.” Her voice seemed softer, almost a fond tone set within it.

“You’ve seen us play?”

“Yeah, you guys are good.”

“You’re a fan then?”

She chuckled, looking to her feet.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed, nodding yet again.

They stayed together for some time, silently and mutually agreeing that enough had been said. They finished off their smokes, and with that, she turned to go.

“Bye, Roger.”

He bit his lip, feeling the sting shoot through him. He was conflicted on if to make a move, not wanting to diminish his confident and cool reputation he believed he had built for himself. He settled for shouting something along the lines of “will I see you around?” (which upon thinking back over it, maybe it wasn’t that cool), to which she only shrugged and kept walking.

He could hear the bottles loudly clanking together as she sauntered off, lord knows where to. He watched her go until she turned the corner, tossing one final look in his direction before continuing on, leaving him in deep thought.

“I’m telling you, mate, she was drop dead gorgeous. And I have no idea who she is, no name or anything!”

Brian rolled his eyes, tossing his notebook across the room onto the yellow sofa Roger was resting on, turning his full attention to his distraught friend.

“Well, did you ask her for her name?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes in a similar manner to Bri. “Yes, I did. She said it was ‘none of my business’.” He scoffed, twirling a single drumstick between his fingers while tapping his foot repeatedly, annoying Brian to no end (per usual). The curly headed man only barked out a laugh, finding the entire situation quite humorous, if he was being honest.

“But she knew the band! Said that she thought we were good. S’ like she couldn’t make up her damn mind.” He grumbled, slumping forward.

“Wait, she knows the band?”

The drummer looked at him like he had two heads nodding slowly.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Brian stood up and sighed, grabbing his guitar and headed to the edge of the bar’s stage, resting behind the curtain briefly.

“You really are thick, Roger.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He joined him by the curtain, noticing Tim had come up behind the pair.

“What’s all this about, then?”

“Nothing.” Brian and Roger replied in unison. Tim huffed, making his way onto the stage where the growing crowd was waiting. Cheers could be heard for the frontman as he introduced himself, saying something about how the rest of the band would be out in a second, and that they were just having some “sound issues”.

“Rog, if she’s a fan, she’s probably here tonight, yes?”

His eyes widened, and he suddenly began to feel quite dumb, not that he would admit it.

“Yeah, I suppose so…but she said she wasn’t a fan?” He trailed off, confused.

“She probably was just saying that for some reason. I don’t know, women are odd, they like to play hard to get.” Brian commented, oddly flippant for how conflicting his statement was.

Roger stood in place for a moment, still greatly confused what Brian was trying to get at. He shook his head and furrowed his brows, trying to put together the puzzle of this mess in his mind.

“Roger, for God's sake, don’t think about it, just go.”

Following his advice, Roger did his best to disregard any previous thoughts of confusion, a switch flipping in his mind. He stood taller, saying, “You know what Bri, maybe you’re right.”

“Great, go on then.” He watched as Roger bounded out with a newfound adrenaline and a smile plastered on his face, rolling his eyes for what wouldn’t be the final time that night at his bandmate’s antics.

As soon as he had made it behind his kit, he was scanning the crowded room, trying to locate the girl from last night. He watched the door throughout the performance, trying to see if she might have just come in a bit late. He held the hope she would somehow show up with him in his mind, but all to no avail.

The entire night, he couldn’t shake the thought of her lips from his mind, or the way the skin of her neck was so open and exposed, practically begging for him to attack it with his own lips. And with the way things were going thus far, he was sure that pretty face of her’s would be the death of him, he was certain, in fact.

“Find her?” Bri had questioned almost as soon as they had ended for the night, the lot of them now working on cleaning up.

“Nah. She never showed up.”

“I’m sorry, Rog. Maybe you’ll see her again soon, the campus isn’t that huge, you know.” Roger’s mouth formed a thin line as he raised his eyebrows, not convinced in the slightest that the situation proposed would occur.

“At this point I’m wondering if she’s even a bloody student here.” Roger grumbled, obviously no longer feeling the initial electric adrenaline of the night's performance.

Brian frowned, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and patting it once or twice before standing to go finish packing up.

It was later now, and the boys were finally leaving the bar, bidding their goodbyes to those around them. Roger walked out the front (in what Tim and Brian joked was a ‘moping manner’), hearing the bell jangle above his head, ringing annoyingly in his ear. The cold air hit him like an arctic breeze (or a ton of bricks, he wasn’t sure which description was more fitting). He shook his head and blinked a few times, as if that would rid his body of the frigid feeling. He sighed dramatically and pulled his corduroy jacket tighter around himself, watching as his breath made a small cloud in front of him.

“Roger?”

He turned, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Having a pity party, are you?” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“It’s only me, so no. Not a party.”

She “ahh”-d in understanding, her mouth forming into a sly grin. Her lips were a pale pink color that night, her eyes a bright blue shade. And similarly to the night previous, she was graced with only a brown fringed dress, her matching boots in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

“Then what would it be if I joined you?”

He stood in thought, tilting his head. “I think then, yeah, it would be a party.”

“Do you not get cold, ever?” He added after a beat of silence, observing her ill outfit choice for the frosty climate. She rolled her eyes, muttering out a brief “ha, ha.”

Roger couldn’t help but bite his lip, holding back a laugh.

“I do on occasion get a little bit chilly. But I like the feeling.”

He tilted his head, walking over to where she was leaning against the brick wall of the dive bar. He turned to face her, not that she noticed, putting his weight on the rough surface behind him.

“It makes me feel,” she hesitated, struggling to find the right word, although she felt it was right on the tip of her tongue.

“Alive?”

She finally met his eyes after what seemed like forever, softly nodding. To him, she looked like an angel in that moment, the street light so beautifully illuminating her locks like a halo around her. He reached a cautious hand forward, dragging it against her cheek, down to her bottom lip.

Her mind was screaming at her to leave while she still could, to somehow not fall in the mix of the infamous campus player that was Roger Taylor.

But her heart? Well, as cliche as it sounds, her heart was telling her to disregard any reasonable thoughts and just kiss the bastard, for God’s sake.

And if anyone knew Y/n Y/l/n, they knew that most times, she would listen to the latter mentioned, rather than the former. And so after several moments of unbearable silence, she decided she would. Catching on relatively fast, Roger took her flush against him, Y/n able to feel his breath fanning over her face.

She leaned forward with a small smile, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes wandered to his plump and rosy lips, adrenaline pumping through her veins. But before she could make the final leap, so to say, Brian, of all people, called out her name in a confused nature, squinting, believing that it might have been his eyes deceiving him. The girl from his 9 a.m. lecture could not possibly be about to snog his bandmate.

Impossible.

Her eyes widened, head turning immediately when hearing her name fall from his lips.

“Brian, hey!”

“Wait, you two know each other?”

Ignoring Roger’s (panicked) question, Brian walked over, a look of amazement still prevalent in his features. She moved from Roger’s side over to Brian, giving him a side hug, Bri’s arm resting on her shoulders.

“I see you’ve met Y/n. She’s in my astronomy class.”

She smiled brightly as the neon signs lining the downtown district of bars and restaurants alike, meeting Brians gaze.

“Yup, got to love Dr. Martin’s lectures.” She chuckled, the tall man next to her doing the same.

Picking up on Roger’s absolutely bewildered appearance, still taking in the situation unfolding in front of him, Brian took the liberty of initiating another conversation.

“So, Y/n, did you see the show tonight?”

She frowned, crossing her arms.

“Wanted to, but no, got caught up in the library. I have my final for statistics on Thursday, or else I would have been there.” She locked eyes with Roger, giving him a soft smile. Suddenly changing her demeanor, she reached into her bag she always seemed to have with her, pulling out those cheap cigarettes and her Zippo. She lit one of the sticks, inhaling.

“In fact, I heard your drummer was incredible, so I thought I would try to see him in action tonight.” Her gaze never left Rogers as she conversed, her mouth pressed in a line, the rest of her face completely neutral.

“But you’ve seen us before Y/n, he’s been with the band for quite some time.”

“I mean, I wanted to see him with a fresh pair of eyes, a different perspective, I guess.”

Still mildly confused, Brain shook his head and muttered something like “Right, okay” to which Y/n softly smiled at before dropping the cigarette from her hand. Barefoot, she couldn’t reach down to step on it, have the sparks die out under her toes.

“Could one of you get that, please?”

Roger nodded immediately, his boot finding its way quickly, the toe of it making a circular motion. His eyes stayed on Y/n, as had hers before. And despite the bustling city around them, Hell, even despite Brian’s perplexed stare, it felt oddly intimate, as if they were locked onto each other’s view (not that they were complaining).

But they weren’t, as she proved mere seconds later, abruptly bidding them goodbye and heading the opposite direction.

The pair of boys watched her as she went, heads tilted and jaws dropped to where if their mothers were present, they would be scolded to “close their mouths before they catch flies in there!”.

“That’s her, you know.” Roger commented bluntly, slightly shaking his head and then popping his lip.

Brian took a moment, turning toward his friend, stuttering.

“As in, her, her? Y/n is mystery girl?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, Rog.”

“Why would I need that, Brian?” He challenged, putting his hands on his hips, lifting his chin. Brain kept his assumed position, moving his hand to scratch at his neck.

‘Well, I’m sure if you hang out around her enough, you’ll find out.”

Rather than shouting out at him, asking him what the Hell he meant, as he really wanted to, Roger paid Bri no attention, not even giving him a second look before under his breath saying “I’ll see you later”, and in what Brian considered to be a quite shocking turn of events, bolting off in the direction Y/n had gone.

He ignored the shouts from Brian, ignored the judgmental stares and loud whispers of those who recognized him from the band. He no longer cared about keeping his ‘cool reputation’, not when she was so close.

“Is that Roger Taylor?”, “Oi, isn’t that the drummer from the band at the pub?”, “Hey, why’s he buggin’ out?” all flooded his ears, usually followed by what seemed to be snickering, making a desperate attempt to cloud his mind from his self-assigned mission. But it was no use, as he was set on catching up to her. In fact, she was so close he swore he could smell the mixed scent that was uniquely her, smoke and her perfume.

He hollered her name, God, he yelled it till his throat was hoarse, just ‘cause he could. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue, he loved the fact he even had learned it to begin with, and that alone was probably why he adored it so much.

She heard his cries, turning where she stood and tilting her head.

“Roger? What on Earth are you doing?”

He finally met her, bent over on his hands and knees, breath lost in totality. She placed a concerned hand on his sweaty head, combing through his chocolate locks. He would have shivered at the feeling, if he had the energy. Rather, he looked up with the goofiest smile she’d ever seen, resembling a golden retriever, or german shepherd perhaps, in human form.

‘D’you wanna go somewhere with me? Hang out a bit?”

She nodded, holding out a hand.

“Lead the way.”

“Mom and Dad want me to be some kind of a scientist, study the stars.”

“Yeah? And what do you think about that.”

She tilted her head, shifting her position.

“I’m not quite sure. I wouldn’t be against it, that I know. The stars are beautiful, but they aren’t where my heart lies, I guess.”

He turned to face her, their noses almost touching. She could feel his breath fanning over her face, and the proximity sent butterflies through her stomach.

“I want to be an actress.” She all but whispered, turning her attention back to the full night sky and the wonders that hung in it.

“An actress, huh?”

She only hummed a confirmation, moving her left hand to pick at the cool grass under her palms.

“I could see that. You, I mean, on the big screens.”

She turned, and Roger swore he had never seen anyone smile so big before in his life.

“Really?”

His own smile grew, and she nodded vigorously, the two of them beginning to laugh. He pulled her closer by her shoulders, unaware of where the conversation would lead.

“I’ll go to New York. You’ll see me on billboards in Times Square.”

“Well, that’s nice to know. I’ll just be a lone dentist somewhere, while you forget all about me, having lavish parties and such. Whatever it is that famous people do.” His voice was obviously joking, melodramatic was written all over him, yet Y/n couldn’t help but still feel a sliver of guilt.

She hit his arm, rolling back over to face him. She still had a smile glued onto her lips, both of their eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Oh, shut up, will you? Smile will make it big, and we’ll meet again, when you’re on tour. Or perhaps if I’m filming where you’re performing! We’ll have those nights to ourselves, It’ll be a secret rendezvous.”

She turned to her back again, finding his hand on the damp green, her heart beating a million miles a second as she reached for it, slowly entangling her fingers in his.

“The papers will write about us, Rog, when they find out. ‘Famous actress Y/n Y/l/n seen leaving a hotel with renowned drummer Roger Taylor’ is what the headlines will say. God, what a scene we’ll cause.” Her eyes were full of excitement as she spoke, her heart feeling like it was so filled with glee that it could soar out of her chest.

“Well, I wanna know the specifics.” Roger sat up, pulling her up with him, she giggled, and the brunette wrapped a hand around her waist. She sat beside him, the streetlight by the backroad she had led them on illuminating her like a silhouette. She bit her lip and grinned, tilting her head up to better exam Rogers angelic features.

“Are you gonna have some bloke waiting for you at home, hmm? Waiting for you while you conquer the world, only for you to break his poor heart?”

“Nah.” Her answer was immediate, her eyes honest as she spoke. “Only a cactus. He’ll be my only friend. I hear it’s lonely in Hollywood, Roger.” He raised his eyebrows briefly at this, choosing his next words.

“You’ll have me?”

His head turned to look at her, admiring the way the pale moonlight illuminated her, the artificial light from the streetlamps not doing her neverending beauty and justice, in his opinion. Their eyes seemed sporadic, searching each other's faces for signs of what they were doing, possibly being wrong, but they found nothing, as expected.

The yearning had become all too much for the inspired pair, and it felt like at last, all they could do, the only thing they could do, was kiss.

So they did. Roger took her face in his hands, closing his beautiful eyes, his eyelashes barely brushing against hers. He leaned forward, joining them together, finding that they immediately moved in a perfect synchronization. They were like two sides of the same coin, and that seemed to be particularly evident in that moment. By the contrast of their lips, or perhaps the aspirations of their careers becoming somehow just a little bit clearer.

But it didn’t matter, none of it did. Not in the long run. So they pulled apart, chests heaving and faces painted with childish grins.

It was quiet then, only the crickets and the howling wind could be heard. But she liked it that way, preferred it, actually. So quiet, in fact, that Roger was able to fall fast asleep, Y/n lying comfortably in his arms. She stared at the stars, then back to his sleeping figure, her mind unable to come to a consensus on what on God's green Earth she was to do.

She settled for placing a kiss on his jaw, closing her eyes. His eyes only fluttered, never waking completely. She muttered something like “See you, rockstar.” against it, before standing up and walking away, only turning back once to see his sleeping form one more time.

That was the last time for 6 years that he would see Y/n Y/l/n. See her in person, at least.

When he woke up the next morning, he was confused to say the least, wondering why Y/n didn’t wake him, mostly wondering where she had even gone. He looked around himself, patting the green grass beneath him, as if she somehow was invisible and he had missed her upon initial glance. He had shouted for her, his throat still hurting from when he did the same thing only 12 hours previous.

He had felt out of control, like the one he had been chasing had just slipped through his fingers (which it had). He had remembered asking Bri, day after day, if he had seen her in class, even just seen her around in general. Everytime the answer was the same.

“No Roger”, “I’m sorry, Roger”, “Not today, Roger”. It was a horrible, predictable pattern, that he had enough of. He was supposed to recover from it quickly, bounce back from her almost immediately, as there was basically nothing to bounce back from.

But he couldn’t, and due to such reasons, he supposed he finally understood what Brian had said, or warned, that night before he had gone chasing after her. He got it, in his own sad way.

And over the years, she slowly faded to the back of the drummer's mind, behind groupies, and songs, and shows, and such, just for her to resurface again any time he saw her on a billboard, just as she had promised. But he never let it show, outwardly at least.

He had made Brian swear not to tell the others, never to breathe a word of it to Deaky or Fred. He was embarrassed by it, for some reason, and that’s why he guessed he forbade him from speaking of it. But how long can you keep a silly college secret from your nosy bandmates? Apparently 6 years, tops, for Roger Taylor.

“Alright, everyone. Gather ‘round, I’ve got a surprise.” Freddie had said, his grumbling bunch of friends tired from their day’s work. Though, they usually had grown to appreciate and look forward to Fred’s “surprises”, today everyone was just a tad bit too grumpy to try (a certain Roger Taylor in particular, let’s call it foreshadowing).

“Oh, stop your moaning and whining, please, I promise this will be good!” the eccentric frontman had said, something hidden behind his back in his left hand.

Rog ran a hand through his, now, blond hair, exhaling in such a way that made Freddie slant his eyes, before giving in and rolling them at his flippant behavior.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian had been the brave soul to ask, stepping forward and then looking away momentarily to place his guitar onto a stand waiting not so far away.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He replied, jumping down from his place on the risers, removing his hand from his back and holding out what seemed to be 4 tickets to something. He walked down the loosely formed line of men, putting one in each of their extended palms. Roger, at the end of their formation of sorts, became concerned when Brian had burst out laughing, looking to his right, being met with Roger’s face of confusion.

Freddie, possibly more confused than Roger, pressing the piece of thick paper into his hand, his gaze falling onto Brian, who now had tears in his eyes.

“Bri, what’s so… funny. Shit.” He had looked down to the slip, the only words he needed to read to know he was absolutely screwed, being “Jaws” and “Premiere”.

Now, anybody who knew anything, knew that Y/n Y/l/n was going to be in the film that was said to become the blockbuster of the summer, playing the role of Ellen Brody (though a few had said she was far too young for the job). She had been an overnight success in the film industry, gaining popularity from the 1973 film, ‘The Sting’, playing Billie.

And Roger had watched ‘The Sting’, and you can imagine his surprise when Y/n had sauntered onto screen, red lipped and fresh faced. (He had to admit, she looked great in a suit.)

After that, the assault on Roger’s fragile heart was never ending.

Billboards began to pop up even more frequently as she was to star in more films, and it seemed no matter where he was touring, he couldn’t escape her. Whether it was posters, her face printed on newspapers, adverts in about every place business was done for one of her films, he felt like he was being followed. He had even seen an article about her in a magazine, and when he had flipped the page he was greeted with Queen’s smiling faces.

He had stopped watching them after ‘American Graffiti’.

So, he figured that this one wouldn’t be any different, and he simply planned on ignoring said film until he caved, doing his best to avoid her on the silver screen and anywhere else, which hadn’t been too difficult until this point (not).

But this? This was a whole new level of being royally fucked.

“Brian, Rog, something you want to share with the rest of the class?” John had asked, cocking his head and propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. Brian began to speak, wrapping an arm around Roger’s shoulders, the shorter man looking up at him with angry fire burning in his eyes.

“Well, I’m honestly quite excited. The film industry has always seemed very intriguing, actually, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people. Rog?”

“No.”

“No?” John repeated, “No, what?” He waved a hand around, trying to understand what Roger’s problem was.

“I just- I don’t- I knew-”

“Roger had a fling with Y/n Y/l/n and she broke his heart.” Brain blurted out, Roger turning and immediately smacking him upside his curly head of hair. He regarded an “Ouch!” before him and the rest of the boys burst out laughing, the drummer not included in that demographic, fuming.

“Rog, darling, when was this? How did we not know?” Freddie managed to breathe out, sitting down next to Deaky on the studio sofa. He crossed his hands and ankles, his full attention turned towards Roger who really, really didn’t wanna have to do this, and who really, really was gonna get Brian back for this later. Would he untune all his guitars? Unplug his amp during rehearsals, perhaps put hair remover in his shampoo? But, that would have to wait until after he was forced to spill his 6 year secret.

“It was in 69-”

“69?!” Freddie had cried out. “It’s been 6 bloody years? And you didn’t think to tell us?”

“Well I didn’t really see a reason it would be necessary to tell you all! In fact, I probably wouldn’t have told you ever if this bloke didn’t have such a big mouth!”

“Hey, watch it.” Brian weighed in, crossing his arms and fluttering his eyes.

“Look, Roger I really don’t see the issue here. We go to the premiere, you just keep a low profile and ignore Y/n, problem solved.” John cut in, trying to be helpful.

Keyword: trying.

“And how exactly will I do that?”

“We will behave, I promise.” Freddie added, though Roger seemed to be having a difficult time believing him or his claim for the others. So Roger only scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

Cameras were flashing brightly, reporters and such were shouting loudly, and Y/n was already exhausted.

Her red lips were painted like DeAngelo had done it himself, and her hair was styled just the way she liked. The heels she was wearing per request of her stylist, though, were horrible. They looked lovely, yes, but they were digging into her poor ankles, and she still had to wear them for who knew how long. She didn’t complain, though, she wouldn’t dream of it.

She would just continue her slow walk down the carpet, a sultry smile on her face. The black fabric of the gown she was wearing fit her beautifully, snug in all the right places.

She sure hoped it was, at least. Especially because she knew that he would be there.

Roger Taylor, the blessed drummer that managed to make a home in the backburner of her mind, his success coming as no surprise to the actress. She had loved every one of their records, and rather than running from his work like Roger had, she opted for going straight to the record shop, purchasing any and every Queen album in her sight. When she had checked out, the very shocked cashier had made some remark, asking something about “you a fan?”

She had thought about it for a moment, thinking back to all those years ago when Roger had asked the same thing. She smiled, shrugging.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

So when she had worked up the courage to invite the entire band to the premiere (on behalf of Spielberg, of course) she was a nervous wreck to find out they had accepted. Really, ask anyone who had any contact with her in the time from then to the premiere, they could testify that her moodiness had risen like a hot air balloon.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting that she had invited them, looking over to the sharp looking bunch, all dressed to the nines. She scanned her eyes over them, catching a wave from Brian, which she gladly returned with an enthusiastic smile. Bri then tapped Roger on the shoulder to alert him of Y/n’s acknowledgment, which resulted in Y/n’s eyes widening to the size of moons.

She turned her head, and worked to finish up her walk of the carpet just a tad bit faster. It all seemed to be for nothing, though, as in the dark of the theater for the premiere itself, she saw the seat next to her be filled, a presence filling her senses.

“Miss me?”

Their hands were all over each other, not truly caring if the tabloids caught a glimpse, just needing to make up for lost time.

They had stumbled into the golden hotel both her and Queen were staying in, the swinging doors of the New York establishment blowing a cool gust of wind in their direction.

They merely laughed at the minor interruption, their teeth clashing as they both smiled momentarily. It was soon forgotten, though, both of them having much more pressing matters in their minds.

They only came to a cease in the elevator, some old couple who most definitely did not care about whatever pressing issue the two of them felt they had, standing off to the side. (Y/n could swear she saw the older woman smirk and wink at her, to which she cocked her head and smiled.)

Once back into the safe confines of Y/n’s suite, they resumed like they had never even stopped, hands gravitating towards the others form as if they were opposite magnets, unable to be separated for too long.

“You’ve driven me crazy, you know that, right? “

She giggled and bit her lip, looking up into his eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Mmm? I’d hope so.”

He pulled away, shaking his head, blond locks following suit.

“Really, you have no idea. I haven’t been able to shake you from my head. You’re everywhere.”

Her excitement could barely be contained at his confession of sorts, chest heaving, trying to stay calm.

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

Roger shook his head with a dry chuckle, looking to his feet and back to her when she had tilted his head up, her finger resting on his jaw.

“Well, are you into it?” She questioned, grabbing his hand and pulling their clasped fingers in between their chests, her eyes hazy with hope.

“Yeah.” He titled his head, feigning a pondering look. “You could say I’m kinda into it.”

“Shut it!”

“Make me.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidly provocative suggestion, and he only laughed, the two of them falling onto the plush comfort of the bed in a meshed flurry for the remainder of the night.

And if you couldn’t guess what could have possibly happened next, the black dress ended up in a pooled up pile next to the bed that night, right next to the heels that finally she had the pleasure of discarding.

The next morning, it was unlike the one 6 years ago, as when Roger woke up, he was overjoyed to find a sleeping Y/n, laying on his chest with hair splayed around her. And he had to say, he usually wasn’t much of a cuddler, but for some reason he felt so incredibly endeared, that anything else wouldn’t have sufficed.

He ran small circles on the exposed skin of her bare shoulder, the comforter concealing the rest of her limbs that were tangled up with Roger’s.

When she stirred, Roger sat up, fondly watching as her eyes fluttered open and her tongue ran across her dried lips, still carrying a hint of last night's red pigment. She looked next to her, her eyeline matching up with the covered skin of Roger’s lap.

She sighed, shifting her head to rest on his thighs as her feet dangled off of the bed. One of Roger’s hands came up to softly massage the top of her head, the other against the headboard, behind his neck. She stared at the ceiling, an unreadable expression creeping its way to her features.

“We were jacked up last night.” Roger’s voice cut through the silence they shared, deeper in the late morning than she had heard before.

“Correction, you were jacked up.”

“Whatever.”

They laughed, silence soon taking over once again. Roger sighed, closing his ever tired eyes.

“Are we gonna pay for this?”

She scoffed, inhaling deeply before reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing her carton of cigarettes. He noticed they were the same brand from college, a small smile making its way to his face at the thought.

She first lit hers, then lighting a second one for the man occupying her king sized bed (though she wasn’t even slightly upset by this, quite the opposite). She handed it to him, sticking her own between her lips and sitting up, straddling where her head had been minutes before.

She leaned forward, so close their noses were to the point where they were nearly touching. She took the cigarette from her lips, blowing the smoke to the left of Rog in the direction of the large balcony overlooking Times Square. She turned her attention back to him, though it had never really left, tilting her head.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” The answer came immediately, no careful consideration or pondering needed.

“Right.” She removed herself from him, standing and taking the sheet with her, letting it cover her like a renaissance dress. She walked over to the balcony, leaning against the frame of the double doors. She took another drag, an adoring smile spreading across her face.

“Then there’s your answer.”

She paused, Roger tilted his head, his brows lifting.

“Of course we will.”

✺🎬✺

if u liked that hot mess pls like and rb!! mwah ily go eat protein and drink water if ur able. xx hj

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