#bleeding hearts are a flower btw THERES NOT AN ACTUAL BAD OF DISEMBODIED HEARTS AT HIS BEDSIDE I PROMISE

[sayonaraearthling]

do 1-20 AND NUMBER 46

things that inspire you   

def other fics?? especially one’s with really great prose that make have to lay down and re-evaluate my entire life; also the hellspawn that is my mind that never lets me rest is a thing

      2. things that motivate you

MUSIC this is why 1/3 my music library is just soundtracks lmao, soundcloud is a lifesaver too imo

     3. name three favorite writers

fuck it im just gonna drop some friends, ichinose ;) , safety_dancer & hannahkannao

     4. name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why

TheRabbitWhisperer, I love their prose so much you have no idea its so poetic and its GOALS

buu, once again their prose is really amazing and its just amazingly in character??

accordingtomyresearch, bobbie’s just a really great writer and she’s the only one who doesn’t put me in the shame box when i start throwing out angst lmao

     5. since how long do you write?

oh dear god i remember i was like 15 when i decided to write naruto fic… that was a dark time fuck that

     6. how did writing change you?

I now know what exercises to do if I ever get lung surgery :D

     7. early influences on your writing

IM NOT SURE HOW TO ANSWER THIS HONESTLY

      8. what time are you most productive?

12-2am mostly idk why lmao

     9. do you set yourself deadlines?

mmmmkind of?? i give myself like a month tops to hash out a long chapter

     10. how do you do your researches?

google mostly, but if its a sensitive topic, i’ll ask around tumblr (theres a lot of amazing people that actually helped me yesterday for the very same reason)

     11. do you listen to music when writing?

what kind of person do you take me for?? (this is a yes lol)

     12. favorite place to write

My bed??? writing fic in public has a LOT of ways for it to go wrong

     13. hardest character to write

charcters that are too bright and optimistic (lmao) for example HINATA FUCKING SHOUYOU why are you so happy child i can’t understand?

     14. easiest character to write

anyone with a similar aspects to my personality, helps me get into their mindspace like bakugou from bnha

     15. hardest verse to write

im bad at explaining transitions, like trying to build up a scene until it’s at the climax. (ex: man goes to cafe, orders drink, finds guy, argues with him, and he gets decked) i just wish i could say this dude got punched but now i just cant do that and it sucks

     16. easiest verse to write

anything dealing with emotions, im a pro at that shit 10/10 would forcibly make you relate

     17. favorite AU to write 

does angst count as an au becAU S E

     18. favorite pairing to write 

any pair w kags (kagehina, oikage), bakushima, mikayuu

     19. favorite fandom to write

haikyuu definitely

     20. favorite character to write

KAGS (tbh this was probably foreseen before i even opened my mouth)

     46. share a scene of a story that you haven’t published yet

(just a warning its not proofread)

Kageyama blinks once.

His chest feels barren and pulses with dull aches thatsting with each breath he takes, and it burns like the sun. But he likes thefeeling, compared to how full and congested he had trained himself to get usedto for months on end. His stomach feels just as empty. The feeling is lesspleasant. When was the last time he ate? He can’t remember.

Twice.

The room spins and his head nearly swims with it. It’s darkbut the windows beside him let the moon shine onto his bed and give him somesemblance of where he is.

His head pounds with the beginnings of a headache.

He doesn’t want to be here, shoved and left to rot in ahospital bed with nothing to accompany him other than the heart monitor by hisside. It’s silent, so unlike the fake and plastic hospitals he was used toseeing on television. There’s no one rushing into his room, fussing over him,asking how he feels or forcing him to eat. There are no doctors giving himreassuring pats on the shoulder and no chubby nurses sneaking him snacks fromthe cafeteria. No one walks him down to the over-priced café for the visitorsand no one is sleeping in the chair beside him waiting for him to wake up.

It’s five in the morning and all he has to accompany him isthe thin bed sheets and a bloody bag of bleeding hearts resting on the chairthat serve as a cold reminder of what his fate could’ve been.

He turns his head to look out the window, getting lost inhis head as he imagines the dark, wispy clouds to be fish swimming laps around themoon in the black abyss of the night sky.

He falls back asleep just as the clock reaches 5:14 am.