Nov 30, 2024
a lil complicated vent doodle <:3 just wanted to practice my shading and thought this outfit would be fun to draw :]
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a lil complicated vent doodle <:3 just wanted to practice my shading and thought this outfit would be fun to draw :]
So you said ask a number. Can you please do 5 ? (I don’t know what that one is, I just picked randomly)
05: A memory that your character wishes to erase
Well... I like most of my memories, since my vode are in them, and they are important... but if I had to pick one... probably the moment on Umbara when we realized we were... *takes a shaky breath* s-shooting our own vode…
At that moment, it was just... the whole war, our whole lives just seemed so pointless, you know? After all the training we went through and relationships we’d made with our vode? To go out because a traitor dar’jetii told us to shoot at eachother and WE LISTENED?!?!
*sniffles a little, taking a moment to calm down* If I had to erase something, I’d pick that...
"I wish you would write a fic where..." Lando falls completely in love with Carlos (bc of those mclaren videos and such) and one night just can't hold it in anymore (Also that lando/george fic was amazing😍)
you lit up the sky, you etched yourself onto my heart
He couldn’t really believe that the season was coming to an end. He wanted to grasp it with both of his hands, hold onto it until the very last moment. This was what he’d been dreaming of his entire life, and if he wanted to be a little selfish and childish about it, he would be. His first full season, with the promise of at least a second. It was everything he’d wanted and more, he just didn’t want it to end.
“Cabrón? You okay?” Carlos appeared at his shoulder, looking concerned. “You looked like you were thinking.”
“Fuck off, I can think.” Lando laughed, nudging Carlos with his shoulder. Carlos snickered, holding up his hands.
“Okay, okay.” Carlos laughed. “I am sorry, that was bad. You can think, sometimes.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but the grin didn’t fade from his face. “Cheers mate. I feel so much better.”
“It is okay.” Carlos shrugged. “So what were you thinking of?”
Haha, the ask box is open! May I request a scenario where Oikawa, Bokuto and Kuroo (separately) have a bad day and their female friend decides to make them a blanket fort with all sorts of enlightening things like fairy lights. But then they end up talking over the problem in the tent and/or just about anything really and end up falling asleep next to each other. BUT in the morning they realize that they want to be together. Kisses ensured. Please and thank you!!
Jeez I’ve been gone for a while, huh? I am really sorry guys! I’ve been all over the place, getting my cosplay ready, looking for a new job, getting my degree… just a LOT of things happening at once TT~TT I have another blog I’m working on for other fandoms, so that’s also been kind of eating up my time… ugggghhhhh Anyway! I absolutely love this idea of comforting the boys rather than the usual other way around, thank you for requesting! - Admin Satori <3
Oikawa Tooru:
It’d been a bad day. A bad… BAD day for the great king, Oikawa Tooru. In all his life, all years of school, every match on the court - he’d never felt so…. miserable. So completely downtrodden in every movement he makes.
But he seemed to be moving in slow motion the longer the day went on - as if it were playing with him, teasing him of all the failed events he’s ever had in his life. His knee, his matches, his love life. Everything seemed to be against him.
It seemed even Iwaizumi had gotten tired of his antics for the day, having sent him home from trying to practice his serves. Not that he was in any condition to practice; His knee had been killing him for the past week.Tension, frustration, hopelessness rolled off his shoulders in waves on his way home, forcing away the pain with every stretching of his leg, of his knee, with his step. Oikawa just wanted it all to end already - why had he been suffering so badly recently? It wasn’t as if he’d been blessed with good fortune to warrant this bad bout. Why did Karma believe he deserved to suffer for happiness he hadn’t felt in… forever, if he really thought about it.
He knew no one was home, and he was glad for it - he really didn’t want to have to deal with explaining his bad mood to his mother, or father, or sister, or whoever decided to pay him any attention. The great king, for once, didn’t want anyone looking his way.
That’s why he was surprised to enter his living room and find… a makeshift fort/tent in front of the couch - blankets and pillows tossed inside, flickering, soft fairy lights adorning the entrance to the comfortable paradise that dwelled within. He could see someone, and he had an idea of who, had really gone to the ends of the world to put this together, even going so far as to get all the extension cords connected so they could charge their phones while they watched whatever. Oikawa’s soft brown eyes followed the cords path, curling around the tent/fort, over the couch, around the dining room table, to the only outlet that wasn’t bombarded with plugs - the one right by the kitchen. He could hear soft humming coming from inside it.
“Tooru! You’re home early!” Your smile was bright, infectious and causing a gentle smile to curl his lips. Though it didn’t reach his eyes, he didn’t feel the smile, and that worried you. “Tooru?” You set down the treats you’d been about to take into the living room, reaching out to him and cupping his face, “What’s wrong?”
But he didn’t want to ruin your good mood, so he shook his head - his smile a little more forced than before, “Ah, ________-chan! Always so sweet to me~.” His hands reached up and poked your cheeks, pushing them together to give you fish lips. “When did you become my mom?”
You whined, feeling the pinch of your cheeks as he pushed a bit harder, pulling away from his hold and sending him an unamused glare, “The second Iwaizumi texted me you were on the way home.”
Oikawa let out a huff of a sigh before turning and going to the living room, waving his hand vaguely, “Iwa-chan is such a big baby! Why’d he go and tell you where I was going?” His back to you, his expression revealed his desperation to be alone - his eyes glancing over longingly at the hallway leading to his room. But then you were popping up in his sight, and his eyes flashed over to the fort, “And what’s this, ______-chan! I’m not a kid!”
“You sure act like it.” You muttered offhandedly before crawling into the fort, setting the snacks you’d grabbed off to the side before patting the space next to you, “Come on, Tooru - it feels cold in here without your enormous amount of body heat.”
He squawked in surprise at your tease, feeling as if you’d meant to say something much meaner about his ‘weight problem’ rather than what you had.
But he followed your instruction anyway.
You smiled proudly over at him as he got comfortable, “The Grand King has entered his loverly kingdom! Welcome, My King.” You bowed as best you could while laying on your stomach, your arms brought under you and resting your weight on your elbows. Oikawa gave you an unimpressed raised eyebrow, but you only stuck your tongue out, “Whaaat? I worked really hard to put this together! Do you realize how close I was to running out of extension cords?”
The laugh that left him almost sounded genuine, but you knew he was still holding back. Still forcing himself to have a good time. For your benefit.
“Dad is definitely not going to like the electric bill this month…” His voice had trailed off into a mumble by the end of his sentence, and he noticed he was unintentionally relaxing in your little fort. How could he not? You’d brought all his favorite things in one place just for him - blankets, pillows, snacks… and your warm smile. That’s all he could really ask for. Forcing his mind off the way your gentle laugh made his heart flip, he cleared his throat and leaned on his hip, one hand brought up under his head, fingers in his hair, while the other laid casually on his waist, his legs further down so the pressure was off of his knee. “So..” He started.
“So….” You mimicked, smiling fondly when he huffed in slight amusement.
Oikawa’s eyes flickered from object to object, seeing that you’d really put a lot of thought into this, “What instagram, or pintrest, blog did you get this idea from?” His smile was teasing as you sighed loudly and playfully swatted at his chest, “Sorry, wrong question.” He amended, his tone making it known it had not been a mistake of his tongue to speak what he had. “What I meant to ask was….” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his fluffy comforter under him, under you, “Why?”
The question was simple enough. But his voice, quiet, gentle, almost… shaky had your senses on alert - you’d known he hadn’t had a good day, Iwaizumi had told you as much when he’d called you, but you hadn’t known… it was bad enough to make his mask slip just the slightest.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his curious gaze focused on you, his lips pushed out into a pouting frown - how you just wanted to lean forward and kiss his sadness away. But slapping back to reality, you inhaled slowly, casting your eyes to his injured knee before meeting his eyes again, “I heard you had a bad day…”
Just the mention of his day had Oikawa practically recoiling into himself, his staring contest with your face suddenly broken and looking at anything but. His fingers, which had been gently stroking the cool comforter below him, now gently dug into the fabric, the bouncy, stretchy material wrinkling around his pressure.
He didn’t want to tell you about his dumb day. About his failures. He’d take those to the grave - the only people to actually know the truth would be those that were there and himself.
“…. Do you want to talk about it… Tooru?”
Heart stilling in his chest, Oikawa felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Why would he hide anytime from you? His closest friend after Iwaizumi. Someone who gave him advice from the opposite view. You who had helped him through his physical therapy sessions after his accident.
But when he still didn’t answer, you felt as if you’d crossed a line you hadn’t known had been drawn. So you nodded to yourself before turning your attention down to your hands below you, “Sorry… Uhm… You don’t have to, okay? But I’m here if you change your mind.” The gentle hope still in your voice, after being silently rejected, had Oikawa’s heart lurching forward - not only had he failed everything today, but now he was hurting you, too.
“I changed my mind.” Your eyes were drawn to the quiet voice beside you, seeing his internal battle plain on his face - the mask was completely off now. A faint sense of pride gripped your stomach as you watched him get a bit more comfortable, his body taking up much of the same position you were in, he was debating on what to say or at least how to say it - and it meant the world to you that he’d open up… even if he wasn’t the most comfortable with it.
You remained quiet, though, not wanting to rush him with questions, or prompt him along what he was feeling. All your friendship with the young man you’d been focused on giving him his time and space, while also reminding him that you were there with him. Whenever he needed you, you were just a phone call away. You remembered when he’d tease you, or even your friendship with him, saying how it was almost like the two of you were dating with how much you tried to comfort and be sweet to him.
How could he have known he’d pinpointed the exact dream you’d been plagued with since you first met him?
Oikawa tumbled the words in his head, in his mouth, not sure of what exactly to reveal to you - the entire truth? Or lie? Or half truth half lie?
One glance in your direction had him feeling guilty for even thinking about lying to you. Not you. Never you. Instead he let out a loud sigh, letting his head fall forward so it was resting against the pillow under his arms, burying his face in the soft plush it provided. “Everything is wrong, _______… Just… Everything.”
It was the first time in almost a year that he’d used your name without the cute honorific.
The seriousness of that fact had your heart beating a mile a second in your chest, hammering against your ribs and even setting a gentle blush across your cheeks and nose. Why did it have such a strong effect on you?
Now wasn’t the time to focus on your feelings though - he needed you.
Hesitantly, you reached your hand out, seeing it slightly shaking as lowered from the air between you to rest soothingly on his back. Slowly, still hesitant on whether he wanted to feel anything touching him, you rubbing your hand up and down his back, every now and then using the tips of your nails to trace soft patterns into his shirt, into his back.
“What’s everything, Tooru?” Voice still soft, hands still gentle, Oikawa fell quite easily into a sense of security - you were a safe space for him.
He could express his very deep fears to you without judgement, he felt.
A quiet voice inside him warned him of trusting people wholeheartedly - giving someone everything of you would only cause your own destruction. He wanted to play cautious around everyone, around you… but the understanding in your eyes, the feel of your hands slowly easing away his stress, the lull of your voice… all of it gave had his chest feeling too tight for his heart, as if he were too far from you, that he needed you as close as he could get you.
But he didn’t move.
Instead he, slowly, cautiously, spilled his heart out for you to see - bearing witness to his very unraveling.
—
The next morning, Oikawa felt sleep keep his eyes shut tight, reminding him of the long night of talking the two of you had had just a few hours prior. If he had to guess, he’d say he’d fallen asleep while talking to you - his voice fading closer and closer into the darkness around you two until you’d heard the soft snores of his slumber.
Eyes flickering open, blinking against the muted light of the sun against the fort’s blanketed roof, he glanced down at his body to see a soft sheet that hadn’t been there before he’d fallen asleep.
You’d covered him, tucked him in, and he was sure without a doubt had kissed his forehead to chase away his bad dreams.
The second thing he noticed, apart from the warmth he felt at the idea of your kiss against his skin, was your gracefully sleeping form. Ethereal in your own way. Gentle light surrounding you, caressing your dreams, your eyelids flickering just the slightest with the hint of something Oikawa would never be able to witness himself. Your lips were slightly parted, your breath coming in soft and quiet, no terrible snoring like he’d known himself to have.
He wanted to touch, to make sure you were really real, really there with him and gracing him with your presence. Oikawa wanted to call your name, see you react to his saying it, he wanted to be able to ask you to say his name.
But he didn’t want to break the fragile scene before him. He felt if he did anything that all that it’d shatter this moment for him - and he’d be forced to handle his own shit all on his own.
So his movements were slow, calculated, his body scooting just slightly closer to yours. For a few moments while he was getting closer to you, he briefly wondered what it was he was doing.
All Oikawa wanted was to be closer to you. And to wake you up….
With a kiss.
Bokuto Koutarou:
Opening the door, he knew you were greeted by darkness.
His darkness.
Or rather, the darkness of his room since he’d drawn the blinds and covered them with a thick blanket. No sun, no light - he didn’t want to be bothered anymore.
“Koutarou…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and he could hear your gentle sigh that followed - he’d put you through his mood swings way too often for you to be surprised by them at this point. Bokuto knew you hated him, you had to - there was no other way you’d feel about his sorry excuse for a human being. Littered with anxiety and depression every other day, joyous and annoying the next before hitting another low for absolutely no seeable reason.
“Sorry…” His voice was laced with sleep, or something close to it, he assumed. Sleep had evaded him, no matter how fast he ran towards it, no matter how much he pushed himself through physically, mentally, and emotionally… Sleep wouldn’t come. And he’d be left with his thoughts again.
There was a quiet shuffling as you entered his room, picking up what clothes he’d disposed when he’d come home the night before. He hadn’t been at school today, so you’d figured he’d fallen into another slump. You would have come sooner… But you had to get his classwork so he didn’t fall behind.
You paid no mind to his apology, knowing he wasn’t looking for validation - he’d shown you how he was from the beginning, and while he’d seen you be open and accepting of it… he couldn’t help but feel as if you’d wished you’d never met him.
Bokuto jumped slightly, surprised when he felt your soft touch against his arm, then he felt you sitting on his bed beside him, the mattress dipping with your added weight. “Sorry…” He mumbled again, the words feeling like wet sand in his mouth - knowing it was only a matter of time before it’d feel like molasses.
Gently, you stroked his arm, following his lines and dips, but then tracing some random designs - he could have sworn he felt you spell your name out, but then he knew he’d be fooling himself. “Kou…” Your voice, still gentle, still sweet, called out to him still, sending a wave of warmth across his skin, striking him in the heart directly. His sudden inhale notified you he was listening, “Kou, Do you want to talk about it?”
No. No he didn’t. He wanted to forget it ever happened, forget he ever existed.
“You’ll feel a lot better if you talk about it, Kou… Remember?”
Yeah, he knew that. It always helped to talk to someone when he felt like melting into the ground to escape. Talking to you specifically always had his world becoming brighter, he noticed. Your voice had a way of showing him the light even in the darkness of his own making.
Painfully slow, even for him, he turned his head to glance at you over his shoulder, seeing your silhouette surrounded by the light of his home - knowing it was nothing more than shadowplay… but he wasn’t able to get the image of you, his guardian angel, out of his mind. Because that’s what you were to him. His guardian. His savior. Someone who always knew when he wasn’t his best, and still encouraged him, inspired him, to better himself. To come to terms with his mental health.
The small smile that curled your lips was light a breath of fresh air for him. It revitalized him. Made him remember he wasn’t alone in his fight.
You patted his arm gently, tipping your head towards his open door, “Come on, Kou… I have a surprise for you.” Bokuto wanted to blow you off, huff in irritation and turn back to his dark corner, push you away…. But he also wanted to pull you close and never let you go, tell you everything he’d ever thought about in the last couple of hours without you in his presence, lean on you in his time of need. He wanted both equally, to the point of agony at just the thought of you.
But he didn’t act on either. He held back his emotions, as he’d been doing for the past day - knowing sooner or later he’d explode but today wasn’t that day… So he didn’t have to worry about it now.
Now was reserved for the way your hand stroked down his arm, now was held for only you and the gentleness of your touch as you laced your much thinner fingers with his. The present he was in would be focused solely on the way your smaller form tugged at him to get up, encouraging him to keep moving forward. “Kou..” You whined with a small laugh, knowing he wanted to come with you, but it was hard getting out of bed.
With a final blow to his demons, Bokuto slowly followed your tugging, sitting up in bed and using his other hand to rub roughly at his face - he was sure he had indents of his pillow sheet on his cheek. You were patient now, seeing he was really making an effort to follow you, your hand still holding his softly, feeling the strength with which he held your hand - as if you were his tie to reality.
Getting out of bed completely was a struggle, a battle all on its own. But he’d fight it. Over and over again would he fight it.
As long as you were there with him, waiting for his victory.
“Koutarou, I’m really excited to see what you think of the surprise, it’s really cute and I found it online when I was just looking for…” You continued to chatter, and while you were sure it annoyed most other people, you also knew Bokuto needed that verbal prompting. He’d told you before he liked when you talked, or when you’d blabber on about this or that… He liked your voice.
Bokuto listened contently, each step closer to your surprise becoming easier and easier with your excited jabbering. He wasn’t really focused on your words, or what it was you were talking about… but your voice. So sweet and gentle with him, using just the right tone to make him feel as if he were falling harder and harder for you each day passing.
Oh, he knew he was smitten. He’d been head over heels for you the moment Akaashi had introduced you to him! From that day forward, he’d begged any God to give your attention to him, and he’d tried… countless times to gain the courage and confidence to ask you out.
All his trials and errors, though, did have a benefit in the end… Like today, here you were. You were always there for him. A wonderful friend… that he wished he’d have the guts to ask to be more than just a friend. Whenever he was in his lowest of moments, and he knew it was too late to call you to help… he’d think of you. Of your smile, of your gentle hands pushing him forward and your soft voice coaxing him into the light you’d made your kingdom.
What he wouldn’t give to stand by you in that light.
“… So I figured I’d do the same and build us a little fort for the day! Or however long your mom will let us have it up!” You stood proudly beside him, your hand squeezing his excitedly as you stared ahead at your masterpiece. When he didn’t say anything, you looked up at him curiously - only to feel a blush settle across your face when you saw he was staring at you intensely. “Kou!” You laughed a bit nervously, nodding towards your fort, “Look what I made!”
He didn’t want to look away, but the blush on your cheeks had given him a weird feeling - as if he needed to look away or you’d go crazy. So he listened to his gut, and allowed his golden eyes to focus ahead the two of you… at the cute fort you’d built in the center of his living room.
“A fort?” It was a lame question, he knew, and he wanted to apologize for it since it was less than excited, but he knew you wouldn’t accept it in the slightest.
In fact, you smiled fondly, “Yes, sir! A fort! Come on! I made it perfect size for two and I have most of your favorite things in there!”
Bokuto felt a small, shadow of a smirk pull at his lips, his eyes going back down to your jittering form as you pulled him towards the fort. You were by his side, he wanted to argue… you’re his only favorite ‘thing’.
But the words stuck in his throat, and refused to come out.
You got into the fort first, making sure everything was perfect before you motioned for him to come in with you, “Come on in, Kou! What’s a fort without its great Knight!” Your smile was soft, but it spoke volumes to him - as if you were beaming from ear to ear in his minds eye.
Once he was situated next to you, on his back, staring up at the ‘roof’ of the fort, he felt his darkness slowly seeping away from him. Being replaced with a childlike wonder at the work you’d put into something so silly. “How long did it take you to make this?” He asked, his voice slowly coming back to him, gaining incrementally the rambunctious boom he had in his usual every day interactions.
Copying his pose, you turned so you were laying on your back, your hand slowly reaching between your bodies and resting over his, your fingers lacing with his once more, “Uhmmm about 30 minutes.. Why?”
Bokuto shook his head, “You were here for a whole hour, weren’t you?” He could tell when you fibbed, there was a certain choke to your voice whenever you’d try to squeak past him.
But you laughed, feeling your heart swell at his knowing you so well. “I couldn’t get the lights plugged in right! I thought one of the bulbs was broken… but it was just slightly unscrewed.” You mused happily, very pleased with your work, or maybe you were riding out the bliss you felt when his hand squeezed yours softly.
An actual smile slipped onto Bokuto’s face, touched, truly touched, you’d do something like this for him. “I think…. I think I’m ready to talk now, _______.”
Anxiety clutched your stomach suddenly, fear of screwing up with the wrong words curled around your throat. It was almost impossible, but you managed a quiet, “I’m always listening, Kou…” and you prayed he didn’t hear the shake of your voice - you’d never forgive yourself if you unintentionally had him pull away from you.
Taking a deep breath, Bokuto felt his heart squeeze in his chest, feeling your hand hold his tightly, reassuring him that you were there with him. That this wasn’t just some silly fantasy his demons had brought him in a fitful night.
No, you were here. With him. Beside him. Holding his hand as if he were your tie on reality, too.
——
He didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember pulling you close against his chest in the cover of night. He didn’t even remember when he’d allowed your head to rest on his bicep as a makeshift pillow.
But the moment he opened his eyes, he came face to face with your peaceful, beautifully exhausted expression. You’d fallen asleep just as easily as he had. But after he did.. He was sure of it.
He’d been heard just fine.
Carefully, his brought his other hand from his stomach to stroke away the hair from your face, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest when you hummed contently, the vibration of your body against his having his lungs feel as if they weren’t large enough for the inhale he took.
In the night, you’d pretty much, thankfully, happily wrapped yourself around him, your left leg resting over his, your ankle having hooked around his. Your left hand rested comfortably on his stomach, your fingers pressing into his shirt now and then as your dreams continued - your cheek pressed into his bicep. The fluttering of your eyelashes tickled his skin, and had the young man smiling serenely down at you.
“I really… don’t deserve you, _______….” His voice was quieter than the A/C blowing through his house, and he was thankful you weren’t awake to hear it; He knew you’d only argue against it. “I…. I don’t think I can be just your friend anymore, ______…” Bokuto dipped his head just the slightest, now pressing his forehead against yours, his nose against your cheek as he debated on whether this was a good idea or not.
Was he right to want you? To keep you by him? Would he ever forgive himself if you got eaten up by his darkness?
“So… Are you going to kiss me or am I going to kiss you?”
Your voice, laced with sleep, scared him, his eyes going wide, pulling his head a bit away from yours. You whined quietly and leaned closer to him, now pressing your head against his chin, feeling disappointment bloom in your chest that you’d ruined the moment.
Bokuto cleared his throat, “Ah. I.. I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t mean, I, Uh.. Um..” He coughed a bit awkwardly, a sheepish smile coming to his face - and you forced yourself to open an eye to catch a glimpse of the beautiful expression.
He was back.
When you didn’t say anything to indicate you were mad, his heart swelled - you wanted him to kiss you. Seriously? That’s all he’d been dreaming about for the past couple of months! Excitement thrummed in his veins, and he slowly lowered his head once more so he was pressing his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” It wasn’t a question about the kiss. It was for afterwards. What would happen after the kiss? He felt his anxiety eating at his stomach, making it do flips the closer and closer he felt your lips in the air between you.
You hummed with a gentle smile, leaning up just the slightest so you were just a hairs length from kissing him, “Let’s figure that out later, Kou…” It was a promise. You’d be there for him. Regardless if it worked between you two or not. You needed each other.
And that’s all it took before Bokuto was closing he space between you two and pressing his lips against yours.
He’d never seen fireworks explode behind his eyelids like this before.
Kuroo Tetsurou:
He didn’t want to talk about it. The rigidness of his body told you that much. And while it killed you to see him so antisocial about his issues, you understood that Kuroo preferred to deal with his own problems in his own way.
Sometimes it worked, he’d be fine the next day - acting as if nothing had happened and he’d never been in a sour mood previously.
Sometimes it didn’t - He’d be moody, and snap at anyone that had anything adverse to say about what he was doing, or even just gave him a look he took the wrong way.
It was too soon for you to figure out which way he’d go. Kuroo had just come over to your house, irritation and frustration rolling off his shoulders, proclaiming he didn’t want to talk about it right now and he just wanted to hang out with you.
You’d been flustered, to say the least. It wasn’t every day that your close friend, Kuroo, would barge into your house and want to hang out with you. Sure, being close friends should warrant that kind of behavior - but he was a busy young man. He had a ton of things to be taking care of.
That’s probably why he was irritated, you deduced. “Well, Tetsu, you came at just the right time!” Your smile was bright as you tossed yourself out of your study chair, padding over to where you’d, oddly enough, set up a rather nice looking ‘fort’.
“Yeah, but did you finish?” The sight of you freezing in your movements and sending him an ‘that was kinda funny but stupid’ expression had his sly smirk brightening his expression just slightly.
Giving his question, insincere in wanting a real answer, a few minutes to settle in the room, you sighed loudly and crawled into the fort, “Ya done?” You raised an eyebrow at him when you’d turned around enough to be able to see his curious expression.
While his bad mood was still fresh and pulling at his attention every five seconds, he refused to let it affect him around you. You didn’t need to see him like that. Unraveled by his own making. And even though he had wanted to go home…. To bury his face in his pillows and forget today had ever happened, his legs had taken him to your house. Straight through and up to your room. He hadn’t even knocked, honestly.
“Well considering you’re so excited that I ca-“
“Ah, ah, ah! Hush!” You laughed with a wide smile, sitting back on your legs before waving him towards you, “Come on! I’ve got everything set up and ready!”
Kuroo squinted at you suspiciously, but he still walked towards where you sat within your small fort. “Why did you build this exactly? Reverting to being a 5 year old, again?” When he got to the point where he could no loner see you within the blankets, he slowly kneeled down, leaning back on his ankles as a way to show he didn’t trust your ingenuity.
You snorted and shrugged, “Maybe, Maybe not! Either way…. Get in the fort, Tetsu.” You reached your hand out, offering him to take it, an aide for his ‘i’m way too old for this’ attitude to revert to the wonder he’d once had when he wasn’t ‘too old’. “Come on! I have snacks in here, and cool manga, and phone chargers.. I even have some headsets so we can watch movies and videos!”
Everything froze as the last portion left your mouth.
It was almost as if you’d planned this for him… From the beginning.
A flush quickly colored your cheeks and you cleared your throat in your embarrassment, “I mean.. Heh… Uh…” You didn’t have anything to save you in this moment. You’d outed yourself so easily under his golden stare on your being. You’d felt as if you’d been put under a microscope while he’d watched passively, quietly waiting for you to admit you’d been up for the past night and a half getting everything just perfect for him.
But he didn’t comment on it.
It touched his heart, he would never admit it to you - why would you care if it had really sentimentally mattered to him whether you’d planned for his bad mood or not?
Instead, he felt his smirk widen, “So is this thing going to collapse as soon as I get in or….?”
A sigh of relief exhaled from your mouth as you nervously flattened the space next to you, “No, of course not, Tetsu! I made this fort perfectly stable and able to withstand even the harshest of weather conditions! It’s fool proof!”
Kuroo snickered, “Yeah, but you’re in there… So it’s more like… A Fool’s Experiment.” The playfully insulted expression you threw him had his mood lightening just the slightest, laughing at the way you huffed and turned your face away from his gaze. “Okay, okay… I’m coming in…” He slowly moved himself to all fours before crawling into the fort.
“Now you have to turn around, Tetsu… Otherwise you’re just going to be severely disappointed in the fort experience of my brilliant minds making!”
Internally, you groaned… why did you have to talk so much?? He was already here! He was already next to you! Why’d you have to make it just a little awkward every time you opened your mouth?
But the young man took your request to heart, and he slowly, carefully, sat up from his crawling position.
It was only too late, WAY too late, for you to have noticed there was no enough room for your large friend to move around comfortably. You were directly in his way for him to be turning around like you’d advised. His right hand placed itself next to your calve, the other on the other side of your hips, his face just a few inches from yours.
He froze.
You froze.
The two of you were so close. You don’t think you’d ever been this close to him.. Not face to face - only ever hugs here and there, or when he’d give you piggy back rides when you weren’t feeling good… Not this though. This was something different.
Kuroo felt a heat light in his chest, pleading him to push closer to you, lean you further against the sheet that acted as a wall, trap you between his body and your floor. His hands itched to rest on your hips, on your waist, and pull you closer to him - for his back to press against the sheet and have you leaning on him.
Fear replaced his desires in an instant when he noticed your eyes flicker down to his lips before meeting his gaze once more.
What if he disappointed you? What if he frustrated you like he did with everything else in his life? What if you grew to hate him as much as he hated himself?
So he chickened out, and pulled away, his eyes looking down to make sure he didn’t touch you at all in his turning around. It wasn’t until he was laying on his stomach, facing the mouth of the fort, that he let out a sigh of relief.
But disappointment settled in the pit of your stomach. And suddenly you didn’t want to be near him… You wanted to be as far away as possible and hide in the darkness of your room… Just so no one had to see the emotion threatening to leave your body at his simple, silent rejection.
Kuroo hummed contently, his arms wrapping under the pillow below him, “You were right, _____… This view is much better.. I can see everything - like the dirty underwear under your bed..”
Seconds ticked by before he realized you hadn’t reacted the way he thought you would. No yelp, no squeak, no whine for him to please be kidding… Nothing.. It was eerily silent. His eyes went from staring out ahead to him to looking at you from the corner of them, he wanted to call your attention - feeling like he needed your eyes on him as much as he needed oxygen. But he remained silent, watching the way you blinked out of your stupor and sent him an unappreciated glare.
This glare had less teasing than he was uses to - like you actually meant it.
“Har, har… so very funny.” Even your retort lacked the playfulness he was used to in your words. “So… Now that you’re feeling a bit better….” You paused, feeling your irritation and disappointment get the better of your emotions. You had to control yourself.. Why would you dare give Kuroo the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt you with his inaction? That feeling of loss and bitterness was reserved for later… when you were alone and allowed to seethe and cry. You cleared your throat, reminding yourself you were here for him and his bad mood, “Did you want to talk about-“
“No, I still don’t want to talk about it…” He muttered, his tone back to being a little sharp. His attention turned back to the view you’d praised about earlier - before he’d gone and screwed everything up. “It’s not really… anything concerning you, _______… It’s just me, just me that has the issue.” His voice lightened considerably by the end, his hands gripping the pillow under him roughly, forcing himself to think about what you would think if he were to suddenly bare his soul for you to judge.
You wanted to huff in irritation. You wanted to push his head into the pillow in an act of frustration. You wanted to mutter a backhanded compliment of how good he was at keeping his emotions in check.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not after what you’ve been feeling for him built itself to the level it was now. Hurting Kuroo in any way.. was never an option for you.
Gently, you rested your hand on his gripping the pillow with such a force you were scared he’d rip it. The feeling of his warm hand slowly taking yours instead of the pillow had your heart doing flips - seconds after it’d been shattered.
It was impossible for you not to reach out to him, though, you realized. Having his gaze, his hands, his attention focused solely on you was the only thing you wanted with your life. That’s all. When he went to reiterate his stance on his feelings, you shook your head and squeezed his hand softly, “You don’t have to tell me, Tetsu… But I’m right here if you want to talk.. Always.”
The finality of your words had Kuroo feeling out of breath. How could he have ever gotten such a guarantee from someone he’d just chickened out from kissing just a few seconds ago? Were you insane? Was he just that big of an asshole to turn you down?
And it wasn’t even something he’d planned on doing. He liked you, really really liked you for you and how you treated him - and he’d give anything to keep you by his side for as long as you could… but he’d chickened out, gotten scared by his own doubts.
“I know it’s really hard to trust people, Tetsu.. For the longest time, I wouldn’t have ever dreamed I could open up, but once I did I was really happy and-“
Warmth spread through your entire body, your words being muffled by a pair of lips against yours. You started with surprise, but your slow mouth only had his kiss becoming more desperate - his need for you to want him back just as large as it had been before his fear had shut him off. Your mind kicked itself in the ass before you were slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers delving into his hair as you kissed him back just as desperately.
Kuroo was the one to pull away first, his breathing labored, his forehead pressing against yours, eyes closed. Your hands slipped from his hair, cupping his face with one hand while the other slipped down his chest, resting over his heart where his hand had stopped it from falling any further away from him. You quietly panted, trying to supply oxygen to your surprised systems - he’d kissed you. Out of the blue, Kuroo had kissed you. For no reason you could see, he’d kissed you.
“I… I really want to talk…. _______….” His voice was a little shaky, unsure in what exactly he wanted to say to you - or why he’d chosen you to talk to about all his issues.
A soft smile curled your lips, and, after gaining enough courage, you leaned up a bit to press a sweet kiss against his lips; chaste and soft, he wasn’t even sure you’d actually done it! “I’m right here, Tetsu…” Your whispered words breathed life into his very soul, and he knew he’d be able to actually talk to you - no jokes or distractions to divert your attention.
Okay… so Kuroo’s… is COMPLETELY different than the other two lmao… mostly because I kind of… ran out of time.. again.. hehe… I hope you like the twist of it tho :D
I love you guys so much. Gonna miss ya <3 Can i get some giotto, reborn and kawahira with a shy insecure s/o plz
((The admins will miss you too, dear anon! Also..... I might have taken some liberties with this ask. ^^;;; - admin nana))
Giotto:
You didn’t know why he was with you.
You were nothing special. Nothing particularly important. So easy to overlook you as you lingered at the edges of the crowd, tucking your hands behind your elbows, visibly tense despite the laughter, the cheer lightly brushing against your senses. Your smiles too strained and your attention too faked, practically sweetly false, and not that very well either.
Yet he looked to you with a warmth that almost burned, felt too good, too bright to understand. He looked at you as if you shined brighter than any star as if your very words left him breathless, something more than what you knew you were…
An ordinarily, painful person that was just – nothing without him.
And that hurt more than anything else because to think about being there without him… left you empty.
He breathed life into you, energy and excitement. You wanted him, you wanted to see as he did, with such rapture and feelings, so deep and consuming that it frightened you sometimes.
He was too much when you were too little.
You feared one day it would burn so completely and you’d never get back up again.
It isn’t healthy, you thought, to be so dependent on another as you were. To be unable to live freely without a piece of them there. It isn’t healthy, but knowing wasn’t the same as doing. Anyone could know as much as they wanted, but unless they wanted to do, to change, then nothing would.
It took you great courage to realize that, and even greater courage to act upon that.
You left, and the freedom of it had been both exhilarating and frightening.
Truth be told it had been very painful, the hardest first weeks you have ever had to work through. Everything had felt off balance, and you’d wake up with choked tears, shaking all over. It felt as if Giotto had become an addiction you needed to overcome.
It was only thanks to Alessio that you had been able to struggle past it all, a weighted, stable anchor that kept you from the sea of doubt and uncertainty. He was an odd fellow, resembling more of his mother than his father, soft-faced and as strong as the Rose she was named by. Alessio had helped you greatly, and he was, perhaps, one of your greatest friends.
It was why, when he had come to you, babbling about someone he had met, saying how he thought he was in love and he needed your help, that you decided to do just that. At first, you were confused. It didn’t seem as if Alessio was attracted to anyone. Yet here he was, looking back at you hopefully, and you just knew you had to help him. Why wouldn’t you? He was there for you in the days that felt so dark, so hard to see the light through, where you just wanted to run back and into Giotto’s arms and to the person you had been before, so small and insecure as if nothing had ever happened.
Giotto might have made you feel surreal, so loved entirely that you could have drowned in that feeling, but it was Alessio who made you strong.
“You were there for me when I had a bad day.” You laughed.
He gave you a sceptical look, “It must have been a long bad day then.”
…. It was meant to be like that.
It was… supposed to be like that.
You had hoped, even, to have called Giotto after being with Alessio for the last few months. That perhaps he could visit and see who you had become, and to perhaps come to know the dear friend you had learned to love dearly (just as strongly as Giotto who even now made your heart race). Yet that wasn’t how it had turned out. Instead, the light of the apartment was heavily shrouded, the silence so overbearing that you could almost believe the shadows were writhing and moving with life.
Giotto, a dark ember that burned too much, was standing in that darkness. He stood there and just the sight of him made you want to turn away in fear of the heat that flickered in his eyes, on his hands… in his heart. He burned so strongly that you could choke on the very air he breathed into you.
You sobbed, voice cracking, even as you could see, in the corner of your eye a slumped body just behind Giotto. “All I wanted was to be better.” You whispered, begging, pleading to any god that this was just a nightmare.
“But you were,” Giotto said, unable to understand why you flinched away from his touch, why you refused to look at him and see the dark splatters on his skin. “You were an ordinary person, the most important thing in existence… and he took it from me.”
Oh.
You remembered now.
The words he had said the very first time you had agreed to be his lover.
“Look at you. You’re not so bad, almost beautiful. So ordinary. It makes me feel happy.” His expression was almost peaceful if not for the faint furrow between his brows. His eyes looked to you, open and imploring, “Promise that won’t ever change. Even when you feel like you’re drowning, promise that this look in your eyes, that softness, living… promise me… promise me…”
He wanted you to love so much that you would drown in it.
You thought, that perhaps, he had drowned you a long time ago.
Reborn:
You knew very well that you were not someone worthy of him.
You knew very well that you were not anything beautiful, nor amazing. You were simply you, and that person was someone who held great insecurities. Such deep feelings of it that you just couldn’t sleep, listening to the whispers your own mind told you, such biting cruel words that twisted into your skin, into your heart, into your very mind.
But you had always been that way. It wasn’t hard to be that way.
It was hard though, to pretend.
With a laugh that was just too loud, too odd to even believe real, and an awkward little body that tried to mimic the behaviour of others only to fall short, a person playing pretend. You wanted to be better, needed to be more than you knew you were, to be the people he surrounded himself with – such wonderful people with strong shoulders and gleaming eyes.
But you were not, and each day you looked back at the fading smile in the mirror, wondering why it had to be so.
You had never had to try before.
You had never had to worry before about the softness of your voice, or the restless fidgeting of your hands. Never had to worry about a single thing about you. Yet standing next to him made you feel small, made you realize that this man dressed in his black suits, hair groomed back and fedora neatly turned at an incline… was a better person than you could ever be.
Perhaps you were jealous.
Yes.
You knew you were.
You were jealous of this man you cared for greatly, who didn’t feel shame in himself or in anything he said, no matter how ridiculous it truly was. Of this man who had no difficulties speaking, who seemed so relaxed, at ease in his own skin. Of this man whose heart didn’t race when feeling confronted, nor whose throat felt uncomfortably dry when realizing the shortcomings, the flaws in the choices he’s made.
Some days you did wish you believed him when he told you that you were important. And perhaps you did believe it some days, only to watch as it twisted, mangled itself apart in front of you into something less than it should have been, becoming wrong in ways that it should never be. A monster that clung to your skin, voice garbled and distorted, a demon of your own making.
You gave a shuddering breath as you leaned back with a grimace. Only to startle as two warm hands draped themselves on either side of you, pulling you closer, deeper into a familiar and comforting scent of brewed dark coffee and gunpowder, of groundwood and something like bottled sunlight.
Reborn’s hot breath tickled your ear, and your eyes closed, biting your lip to keep away the shiver building up at the base of your spine. It didn’t stop your toes from curling, nor from your breath hitching in surprise.
“I can hear you thinking.” He said, “What is it that is making you look so upset?”
You whispered back to him, voice carefully even, “I thought you could read minds.”
He hummed, the vibration rumbling against your back.
“I can. But I want to hear it from you. I want to hear those words you seem so determined to bottle up, to burn your hands with.” There was a pause and when you didn’t speak he continued on. His tone gentle and his touch just as sweet. “I can see it, you know, what you’re thinking of. I can see that you can’t even believe it for a moment that you’re special… It’s just so easy to see, to hear.”
Your body instinctively tensed up, colour pooling at your cheeks. Yet all you could do was listen, even as your stomach tightened uncomfortably with every word he spoke into your ear. Too damning, too close to your heart for your comfort; his arms a tight cage and his lips burning against your flesh.
“You think you’re not worth it. But I think that you are the most remarkable human in existence, and every day I wonder how did I meet you – you with your eyes, and your kindness, and you’re never giving up… giving up on no one but yourself.”
“I don’t –”
“But you do.” The retort was sharp, factual, leaving no room to say otherwise. “And I can’t stand it.”
You flinched, eyes dampening at his words.
“I can’t stand the way you degrade yourself so much, and look at me as if you just can’t understand why.” Reborn gave you a tight squeeze, muttering surely that he would make you see it, that he’d say it a thousand times if he must. He peppered small kisses at the curve of your shoulder. “And you know where we’re going to start?” He hummed, “With those words you heard last week, from that person. I know you were speaking to them again.”
“You have all the capabilities of seeing the truth. But you always refuse. But I know very well that you are –”
“I thought I said to ignore them,” He said, voice tinged with disappointment. “I don’t care how long they have been with you, people who care don’t say such things like that.”
“ – and unloved.”
“I know, but…”
Reborn hissed at you, and you quieted. There was a long moment of silence between you, and then Reborn spoke up again, telling you that there would be no more relapses. He had spoken to them, had made sure they would not bother you again. There was a burning anger that he had done so and yet a just as equal relief that you did not have to hear any more. No longer would their words sink into your mind, no longer would it poison it, twist it until your own mind was against you.
You understood Reborn was only waiting for you to see yourself positively, and for that you didn’t say anything more but a quiet thank you, never mentioning the odd stain on his left fingernail (of crumbling red that smelt faintly of iron), nor mentioned the broken vase that you had found in the trash (different than the new one sitting on the coffee table, more indigo than purple and not chipped at the bottom side). You never said a word, and for that Reborn held you tighter, reassuring words being buried into your heart.
Kawahira:
There used to be an odd man you knew when you were younger. You can’t quite recall what he looked like, but you do remember that he liked the snow, the new cold air of winter and the almost magical touch it brought to the earth.
You can’t quite recall what his voice sounded like, but you do remember that his words were never quite blunt, secrets tied up in other things, too much for a child of that age. Even more, you recalled the almost bitterness of his smile and the faraway glaze, the sadness and uncertainty of his gaze.
He was an odd, sad man. An odd, sad man that you had never understood, but who you had wanted to speak to underneath the biggest tree. Those were times you recalled being the happiest, a feeling so fleeting now but one very cherished.
“Tell me… am I a good man?”
Then one day he left, not a whisper of his departure, nothing but the remnants of the winter painting the ground and the newly budding leaves of the trees. He felt like a dream, an illusion that had been fabricated from the falling white mush of the skies, and the fading heat of your breathe visible in the air. He was a dream, you thought, but one you cherished no matter how frayed and forgotten the memory was.
Sometimes you thought you saw him, in the littlest things. In the oddest places, but nowadays you saw him in a person.
You knew it was silly, but sometimes you thought he had come back as –
“You’ll catch a cold sitting out here.”
You jerked in surprise, looking back over your shoulder to see Kawahira making his way down the steps, dressed in a warm scarf and in his plain green kimono. He seemed quite at ease despite the almost flimsy layers of warmth he had chosen for himself, even as the cold wind bit at his nose and brushed at his hair, he didn’t make a single suggestion that he was bothered.
A biting chill nipped at your red nose and you fixed him with a pointed glare, “Says the man who thinks he’ll keep warm in a flimsy kimono, sandals, and a scarf. Me on the other hand,” You trailed off, nuzzling into the warm jacket two sizes too big. Hands perfectly warm in the fuzzy coloured gloves and shawl-like scarf draped over your shoulders. “I’m warm and cosy!”
“…without boots on.”
You glanced down to your feet, covered snuggly with fuzzy socks that were slowly getting wet from sitting in the snow for so long. You hadn’t really noticed, the thick wool keeping most of the brunt of the ice away from your flesh. With an upturn of your nose, you retorted surely, “The warmest socks in the world.”
A soft smack at the back of your head made you yelp. He sat down with a disapproving glare, still looking as if the winter had no effect on him. “You’re just trying to get sick.” Kawahira hissed. Then he paused, scrutinized you shrewdly and then muttered, “Didn’t you sit out here when I met you? Out here in the cold…”
You hummed, thinking. “No, there was another time before, not here but somewhere else. In the little shop, remember?”
“And then I actually spoke to you out here –” He nodded before waving a hand dismissively at you, “the crazy person sitting on a cold wet bench in winter, for hours on end.”
“I do not!” You gasped, affronted by the accusation, even as your cheeks coloured with heat. You turned quickly away when he rose his brow, hoping he wouldn’t notice the redness of your cheeks, and if he did, would blame it on the whistling breeze.
Kawahira made a sound, one that just spoke of his lack of belief in your words, but did not say anything more on the subject. Instead, he quietly contemplated the grey skies and then downwards to the packed snow on the ground. There seemed to be something heavy on his mind.
“Most people don’t really meet me more than once, and yet I did meet you once, and then I met you again.” His words were soft, carrying so low that you had to almost strain your ears to hear him. “In the whole wide universe, I met you for another time.”
The way he said it seemed very special, made it seem as if the coincidence between you both hadn’t been just that. It left you strangely warm, and you laughed, brushing off his words with a simple, “Don’t be silly. You make it sound as if meeting me was something special.”
You thought that he was seeing too much in something that wasn’t really there.
“But it was. And you are,” He said with fierce certainty, “you’re special.”
You stared at him curiously, as if seeing something there, more than just the man sitting beside you right now. You shook your head and looked away, “He used to say that.” You muttered.
He looked curious, “Who did?”
“A man… ” You shrugged weakly, “can’t remember now.”
“…Is he gone?”
“No, but he used to… I don’t know. He used to just appear, and when I asked where he had gone, it was as if he never existed. I can’t remember him now, but I do remember the feeling he used to give me…”
There was a long drawn out silence between the two of you.
“… What was it?”
You stared at the ground, thinking about the man you had once known. A dream of a man that was slowly fading into obscurity. But not the feelings, never that, never the warmth he gave even at his saddest. It lingered even now, a tiny little flame you held onto even after so long, doubts and insecurities creeping in like monsters in the night.
It was silly but sometimes just the thought of that odd man from your youth gave you –
“Hope.” You said, “He gave hope.”
And sometimes when you looked at Kawahira, with his pale skin, white hair, and round glasses, you thought of that odd man whose eyes had been old and sad. Kawahira was nothing like that man, you knew. But sometimes the tiny blur between them was enough to make you wonder, to believe in the little magic that the world just didn’t have.
Without it, you would surely be nothing.
You did not want to contemplate that nothing.
Perhaps it was rude, perhaps it was selfish, but as long as Kawahira continued to give that feeling to you, then it did not matter what he was or wasn’t.
In the back of your mind, a voice whispered that perhaps you should. That there was more than what was shown, what was given, and what was received. Kawahira was more than just a memory, but the thought of letting go, of letting the long years of whispers you knew were buried deeply (shifting restlessly in the depths of your heart) out, you would not be able to live with it.
You were not a strong person, you knew.
And hope can do many things. If it helped you to hold on as tightly as you were, then that was fine, yes… that was good.
“Maybe you’ll see him again someday.”
“Time moves on for all of us. But I want you to remember this, no matter what occurs, you are brilliant and you are loved.”
Some Friendly Advice -- Tim Drake x Reader
Originally I hadn't planned on writing this, but the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea of continuing where I left off. May I present, the next part to Up In Flames! It’s not exactly fluff or angst. It’s whatever falls in between the two. In any case, enjoy!
Request can be found here.
WARNING! Mentions of alcohol and slight depression. Also mentions of cheating.
Part One
Word Count: 891
Tim stared down at the now visible bottom of his empty glass. His dower expression and overall dark aura was driving people away from even attempting to talk or comfort him. The bartender glanced worriedly at the depressed dark-haired man. This was the third time this week he’d occupied one of his bar stools. Every night he’d drink a couple of drinks then head back home. Tim never spoke a word, never complained about his home life, never did anything but drink, pay his tab, and leave.
“You ready for a refill, son?”
The man simply nodded his head. The bartender went about replacing Tim’s empty glass with a full one. Tim took a big gulp of the drink and placed the half full glass back on the counter. A new expression came to the young man’s face, one the bartender had seen on many people’s faces over his time working here.
“Ready to talk it out, eh? You got someone to talk about it to?”
Tim gave a dry laugh. “The one person I want to talk to won’t even acknowledge my presence. I really messed things up.”
He should’ve known it was about Tim’s love life. Only one thing would make a man continue to come to a bar for five weeks straight at least three or four times per week. He must’ve screwed things up badly.
The bell ringing over the door made the bartender glance up in mild curiosity. Two dark-haired men stood in the doorway, scanning the bar as if looking for someone. When one of them spotted Tim leaning on the counter with his head hanging down over his drink, he nudged his companion. As the two drew closer, the bartender noticed that one of the men had a peculiar white streak in his hair. Not the weirdest thing he had ever seen on a patron, but definitely a defining feature of the young man.
“This is just pathetic. Drinking away your sorrows?”
“Jason,” the other dark-haired man shot the now named Jason a look, “this is not what we discussed. We’re supposed to be supportive and caring.”
“Honestly Dick, he’s the one who screwed up. As far as I can tell, (Y/N) was more than justified in kicking him out of bed.”
Dick shook his head at the other man’s words. Stepping around him, Dick placed himself down on the empty stool next to the gloomy man. Placing a comforting hand on Tim’s slumped shoulder, Dick gave his younger brother a reassuring smile.
“We’re here for you Tim if you want to talk.” When he received no response, Dick sighed heavily. “Come on bro, we’re worried about you. You and (Y/N) have never fought like this before.”
Tim’s voice came out raspy and slightly slurred. “That’s because I never cheated on her before.”
“Which begs the question: why did you cheat? It’s obvious you were crazy about (Y/N). Hell, you badgered Bruce for updates on her,” Jason glanced at the bartender, “’assignment’ the entire time she was gone!”
Based off the look he had gotten, the bartender could only guess that ‘assignment’ was code for something else. It didn’t matter to him as long as Tim paid his tab at the end of the week.
“A lapse in judgment.” Tim mumbled. “I screwed up, and now (Y/N) doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
The eldest brother gave him a sympathetic look. “Have you two talked since then?”
“I can’t even get her to look at me, let alone talk to me.”
Jason chuckled darkly. “Damn, girl knows how to hold a grudge.”
“Not. Helping.”
“I’m not up to speed on all that’s happened,” the bartender began, drawing the brothers’ attention to him, “but in my experience, a relationship has to be something you feel is worth fighting for. From what these two men have been saying, you obviously love this girl. The question is, are you willing to fight for her and to mend the relationship?”
Tim turned his somewhat cloudy gaze to the countertop. He stared at the same spot countless times before, but tonight it seemed to hold the answers he was looking for. The vigilante looked back up at the bartender. When his blue eyes met the other man’s brown ones, the older man knew Tim had found his answer and resolve.
Tim picked up his half full glass, drank the remaining liquid in one go, and slammed the now empty glass onto the counter. Slipping his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, the dark-haired man pulled out the needed cash and laid it on the counter. With that done, he got to his feet and looked confidently at the other two dark-haired men.
“I’m going to fix this, right now.”
Dick laughed nervously. “Maybe you should wait until you’re sober.”
“I’m with goody two shoes on this one, might want to wait until tomorrow.”
Tim considered their words before nodding. He turned his attention back to the bartender. “Thanks for, you know, putting up with me for the last few weeks.”
“That’s my job, keeping people’s glasses full and giving out some friendly advice.” He gave Tim an encouraging smile. “Don’t lose sight of what you feel is worth fighting for.”
With those last words, the three men made their way out of the bar.
Speakeasy and Sweet to Me
He sat at the bar as he silently nursed his drink. The place was charming enough, trying to capture the look and feel of an old speakeasy from days long past. He sipped at the strong cocktail, savoring the burn even as it sank heavily in his empty stomach.
How long had it been? His mind was a daze, tangled and twisting itself into a noose around his neck. For all the numbness his life had become, it might as well still be the 1920s. It had been so easy to feed then. People were so gay and carefree then. They indulged their sinful delights even as they hid it away late in the night behind false walls and passwords.
Today, humans were more consumed by media and sorrows than ever before. Each feeding to try and indulge in pleasure became more difficult. No matter how talented his tongue or fingers, how they ultimately cried out in bliss, he ultimately left each meal feeling less and less sated. What was a succubus to do when life held so little pleasure to feed from?
He threw back his drink and tapped the bar to order another. Perhaps feeding from the lost and desperate had tainted his own mind. He needed a meal.
Kind of torn today about my fanfic.
One the one hand, I’ve officially written over 100,000 words of Psychonauts fan fiction!
On the other, no comments or new kudos on the chapter I posted today. Which is a first for me since the series started…