#no i can't answer to an ask game without rambling <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[suiana]

bruh i was talking to my friends about our types in guys and i said "i like boyfailures, absolute losers" and rambled about how they were just so cute and I'd be going 'yeah that's cool babe, tell me more about your pokemon and dinosaurs☺️' but then later on in the dsy i realised bro what if i AM the loser and someone thought of me like that 😵 therefore i give you yandere! golden boy x loser! reader

basically you're a loser who doesn't think they're a loser. you're the type of loser who talks a lot of shit online about how 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 and hot you are when in reality you can't order a meal without hyping yourself up for 5 minutes beforehand.

you'd be pretending you're hot and mysterious but the second someone indicates the SMALLEST hint of anything you're interested in, you go on full on rambles and rants. then you snap back to reality and realize that hey! you don't even know this stranger! and just... walk away.

you're the type of person to go to the doctor with your mommy because you're scared to talk to doctors yourself and you'll look at her when the doctor asks any question, expecing her to answer for you. 'so what's your name? looks at mother' ahhh reaction.

yeah. basically, a loser. with hyperfixations on anime/game characters that you consume millions of content of. you probably sleep with plushies too and read fanfiction before sleeping. or you're doomscrolling reddit/tiktok/some form of social media and sleeping at 3 in the morning.

enter, him.

the golden boy. the perfect boy with perfect grades and a perfect body and- basically everything. he does like 3 sports, speaks 5 languages, everyone loves him, he graduated from an ivy league or an ivy league equivalent, and he's going to inherit his father's company! rich, tall, handsome. he has everything set out for him. cool beans.

anyway!

you don't know how, and you don't know why, but this man is now in love with you. you... probably met him while working your minimum wage job at some fast food restaurant.

"hi, i think you're really cute. would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"h-huh? erm..."

yeah, you don't know how to react so you just malfunctioned briefly before taking another customer's order. but he wouldn't let up. not at all, because he'd find your socials and have HOURS of conversation with you, on total accident, of course! no dirty work involved. totally. just pure coincidence, just like god or whatever is above intended!

"heh, must be my aura that allowed me to get that limited edition skin... what do you think, best friend?"

"yeah, this is the one guys. I'm marrying them."

"what did you say, best friend?"

"oh, nothing at all ☺️ go on with your rant, sweetie."

by some stroke of luck, definitely not him pulling some strings, you get a job offer that somehow is related to- wow, what do you know! his company! so you leave your boring 9-5 job and sign the contract. what a nice friend he is!

"here, just sign down on the line and you'll be able to start working right away."

"wow this contract is really long, best friend."

"haha... right, I'm definitely just a best friend..."

a contract that definitely does NOT bind you to him. yeah, no, definitely not. nuh uh. what? you're trying to read the fine print? there's no need for that! it's all just boring stuff...

yeah, definitely no conditions that will allow him to legally keep you trapped with him... and should you ever try to leave. well, it's just not possible.

but hey! at least now you get endless cash and you even have this cool best friend who really seems to spoil you!

oh, and now he's asking to be your boyfriend.

"sorry, you're not my type... i like the losers. boyfailures, even."

"sweetie..."

..

...

yeah, so now you're dating. it's all cool. yeah, you... totally don't mind this.

"best friend can we get some chicken nuggets? i really want some chicken nuggets and fries, best friend."

"it's boyfriend, sweetie. but of course! anything you want ☺️ we can get those chicken nuggets and more if you want."

okay well, at least it's not that bad... he's rich and handsome, he spoils you and loves you! like those guys in fanfiction, right? maybe a little too much though.

"sweetie, I'm throwing away all your merchandise of this man thing, okay? I'm replacing it with merchandise of me."

"don't tell me you're already throwing it away..."

"☺️"

"we're OVER."

[pomefioredove]

If you're still taking requests, I think something funny would be Idia w a reader/yuu that, in the middle of listening to him ramble (with lovey dovey eyes bc they like listening to him <3) just says. Would. Or like I want you. Like they didn't notice they were saying that out loud and now Idia and them are both dying but Ortho is just like OMG ITS HAPPENING FINALLY EXITING STAGE LEFT! hahdhahshsh I hope you get what I'm saying, completely fine if not!

I got u anon

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ slip of the tongue

type of post: fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu author's note: I know very little about video games so I stole a lot of idia's dialogue from my boyfriend. if he sees this. um. hi baby

"The designs are pretty good. I mean, they fit the same three molds, but they're unique, you know?"

Idia shows you his screen again, rolling his gaming chair to the side so you can get a better look at the game he's been explaining to you for half an hour.

"The fighting is kinda button-mashy, but the graphics are cool enough, so I don't really care,"

You haven't gotten so much as a word in for almost ten minutes now, but that doesn't bother you. You like listening to him talk.

He goes back to the game menu to show you the special features, and then to the menu again. His long, nimble fingers dance across his keyboard, as if he were made for this, and he pulls up another screen with a lot of numbers in colored text.

"The game is free, but it's got an insane file size for it. 180gb. Nothing should be that big,"

Your thoughts become a little louder as you zone out, letting his words, heavy with tech jargon and fast with excitement, become music. You can't always keep up with Idia when he starts going on tangents like this. Usually you have questions, but now, you can't think of any. You're looking more at him than the screen. He's being distractingly cute today.

You sigh, letting your thoughts rest on the tip of your tongue, and without meaning to:

"Would,"

Idia's hands jump off the keyboard, and he goes still. Oh. Shit.

He wasn't supposed to hear that.

He slowly turns to look at you, his eyes widened, his face beet-red. In your defense, you really thought he wasn't listening.

You don't say anything. Either of you. You wait. He waits. His computer eventually powers down, making the room a little darker. Finally, Idia looks away.

"...I forgot what I was saying," he mumbles.

Weird. Okay, he's just going to ignore that? Is that good or bad?

You look away, too. "Something about the file size. I think you were-"

"Did you mean that," he asks, but it's not exactly a question. More like a demand for an answer.

"Um..." you say, looking at the floor. "...Yeah, I did."

Idia narrows his eyes at you. He's quiet, studying you, your expression, your body language. For what, you don't know. Maybe he thinks you're lying. Whatever it is, though, he doesn't say.

"...Okay," he finally says, turning back to his monitor. "Well... um... at least give me some warning next time, or something. I would've dressed nicer."

You blink. Next time. "...Yeah. Okay. Next time, then,"

[potato-lord-but-not]

Around 8 months ago (I can't believe its been that long either) you answered an ask about what Arthur Lester and his 3 bf's ideal positions were (top/bottom/switch), and, just out of curiosity, have you changed your mind at all about your answers? Or is John still a top, Oscar still a bottom, and Noel & Arthur both switches?

ITS BEEN THAT LONG ?!?!!?! good god oufghc anyway anyway- I think that has changed a bit and I’ll put my ramblings under cut bc well. there’s probably a bit more detail than you want out on your tumblr dash

okay Arthur hasn’t changed, he’s still a switch in my heart. I think John is still mainly a top, but he dabbles in switching positions. Like if someone realllllyyyy wants to top he’ll be like “okay :)”

Noel is definitely just a top, and he tried being the bottom once and was content to not try it again (even if Oscar was patient and gentle). Although he does top, he’s not much for penetrative sex. He has some problems getting like, physically aroused (also aforementioned preferences- he’s a bit of a voyeur, he’s got those monsterfucker tendencies, whatever the fuck he and the butcher had going on) and therefore likes to get creative with it. He definitely likes to have a bit of control during sex, not being possessive but just being in the lead.

Oscar is mainly still a bottom but I think he can switch it up if he wants because he’s hot like that. Im pretty sure this might directly contradict my earlier statements, b u t- it took him a while to be comfortable being the top, because he’s had very negative connotations with that position. He didn’t like the idea of the power imbalance during sex it could make, and that he’d be the one creating it. With enough patience tho he was willing to give it go with someone he trusted (Noel probably, and although that didn’t do much for Noel he was still great at giving pointers). Annddd I think that’s why I like bottom John and top Oscar together bc they’re going against their usual preferences and trusting the other to give them something they don’t usually get.

I feel bad for writing whole paragraphs for Noel and Oscar and jarthur just gets to share a single sentence um OOPS- uhhh o k a y

John! a switch with top preferences! he gets really aggressive with Arthur but that’s just because Arthur matches his energy. I think he also talks a lot during sex, mainly giving affirmations and praise. With Noel tho- if he’s still human then they’re just having a teasing match. Noel likes to bring out the flirt and get under John’s skin, and John is trying so hard to keep up without just being an ass. Monster John and Noel tho? all bets are off and they’re getting real freaky with it. John still makes sure to be careful and check in often incase he does something that might hurt Noel. And Noel’s like sweetheart I don’t caarrrrreeee pleaassseeee get those tendrils around me. And with Oscar he’s verrrryyyyy careful. Like he could most definitely get more rough with him, but he doesn’t want to do something wrong and have Oscar never want to be near him again. So he’s real gentle, placing more emphasis on foreplay and closeness than actual sex.

and Arthur! the guy I think about the least somehow! sorry king! a switch that is a horny little freak at heart. He’s up for a lot of things and will be down to try anything if his partner thinks they’ll like it. He’s definitely got more of a dominant personality, and I think that’s verryyy evident with, surprise surprise, Parker! Those two had some wweiirrdddd dynamics going on and thought of flirting and sex like some kinda secret game they both wanted to win. Arthur gets manipulative sometimes, but only if he knows the other person would enjoy it. I think since he’s aro, he’s got less romantic attachment to sex, and thus just really likes having sex to unwind or have some fun.

OUG I RAMBLED TOO HARD SORRY I’ll leave

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

[incorrect-gravescest]

To the Anon who asked me my thoughts on Episode 3: Decay pt 1, I accidentally deleted the post I had answered, so here are my full thoughts. Spoilers galore under the cut!

Holy shit, so I knew Decay would be dark, but Nemlei really took off the Rock Lee training weights and unleashed their full power on us. I got the Shots and Such ending and that felt like me wishing on a cursed monkey's paw.

"I wish Ashley and Andrew were living together as husband and wife, but no one knew they were really brother and sister! Oh and Ashley is pregnant too!"

But throughout it all, not only does Andrew slap her after she refuses to call him Andrew (her reaction broke my heart!) he later snaps and tries to kill her and then even later, beats the shit out of her while drunk, causing her to basically throw herself at him sexually just so he won't leave. But it's not like that was enough for Decaydrew...

But let's also take a moment to pour a two liter of ToxiSoda for Andrew x Julia shippers who insisted "Oh, Andrew isn't that bad of a guy, he's just a widdle man who's been corrupted by Ashley!"

But I liked it, at least in terms of entertainment. Everyone knows by now I'm a Burial Slut and just want them to have a happy ending (which, I think Nemlei is strongly hinting may not happen with this addition to the game)

but you can't have the light without the darkness and the sheer horror that is Decay just makes me appreciate my soft little post-Burial I've created.

And even if Burial isn't that happy ending and they wind up dead or in jail or somehow miserable, I don't think it would diminish my enjoyment of the series and I would still write fanfiction, roleplay as Ashley on Twitter and maintain my blog, because I just love those two siblings too much to give up on them.

It's not like Game of Thrones where the ending just left such a bad taste in my mouth that I just gave up entirely on the franchise, cause there's a difference between rushed laziness that was GoT and TCOAAL just going in a different direction than I wanted.

Anyway, Anon, I feel like I'm rambling! But to sum it up, I enjoyed the Decay route even if I felt like my soul was being torn to shreds and it makes me hopeful for a happier Burial ending for them. And even if it doesn't, I'll be more than happy to do my own thing.

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

i was catching up on your blog, and honestly your, or well, your PCs' opinion abt Sydney is so fascinating to me. when i first played the game for real (after trying to previous times and ending up in the forest being raped by wolves and kidnapped by Eden without knowing wtf was going on, and then my second try ending up in a rape cycle that ended in the asylum) i started pursuing Sydney for the first time, thinking that she'd be like every other goody-two-shoes uninteresting character that is usually a part of dating games, the stereotype that fails to interest me no matter what. then i found out i could corrupt her, and i decided to make her "fall from grace" together with my PC, and the more i interacted w her the more and more i fell in love w her character, to the point that my PC became as obsessed w her as she is with him

Sydney might honestly be my favorite LI, so to find someone who doesn't like them v much is quite the interesting experience lol. i think the part that most called my attention is the privilege part of their character that you brought up, and i think that stuck w me mostly bc i never truly saw Sydney's "privilege" like that. Sydney never gave me the impression that they were completely oblivious to everything and anything wrong that happens in the world just bc it doesn't affect them - quite the opposite, actually

Sydney isnt immune to the world they live in, not a single character in this game is (which is why i love it sm tbh). they might be extremely sheltered and protected as much as Sirris and the temple are able to make them, but when you pray w them in the temple and someone comes by to harass you she knows exactly what is happening and how to stop it. she's probably been harassed by monks and nuns as well, and unable to fight back without losing her grace. that's without even going into the Leighton punishment event, and how they react to it, which i think gives a v good view into how they cope w the world they live in depending on whether they are pure or corrupted and how that affects their interactions w PC...

ok im just rambling now, my point is, Sydney is a very interesting and complex character to me and seeing your interpretation of them was really interesting/insightful, and gave me some answers to things in your PCs' story that i used to question but always forgot to send an ask abt (such as their distaste for Sydney). thanks for reading my ramble, i love the things you're doing w your PCs and how you interpret their world <3

-smthishunting

Just in case you still don't understand the nature of the situation, the "privileged" part can be translated into "ENVY"

Sydney has had good things growing up. PC has nothing of those, which I have mentioned. "Why can they be optimistic? Why can they believe in the good in people? Why their parent doesn't demand they rent every week? Why do they have parents but I and Robin don't? Why can't I and Robin have those things that they have?..."

It's bitter, but I firmly believe, just like a redeemed bully can never achieve true peace, a sheltered child growing up with a silver spoon inside their mouth can never understand poverty and desperation either. Something bad happens to them, but they have family and financial support to overcome it, that's why they can stay pure and stay good. Robin stays ignorant too, they essentially avoid the outside world completely and if PC doesn't step up to protect them, they're ruined. That's what happens with pureness and goodness if they bloom in mud, unprotected. That's what happens on a daily basis with the children of the orphanage.

That's why my PCs are Robin's protectors. I make them taste the bitterness when realizing some things even try as they might, they can never achieve, while Sydney has those things handed to them, lovingly and matter-of-factly, as easily as falling to sleep in a soft fluffy bed. To me, that's what makes them even more protective of their waifu/malewife and more determined to shelter Robin as much as possible. They strive to give Robin what Sydney's having, their childhood together sucks so yeah let's try hard for a better future :D

As for Sydney... Well, unless future updates give them some trauma, throw them into some real fuck up situation like what PC faced daily, or reveal that they had some beef with Harper in the past and had lifelong psychological trauma, I don't think I can give them more credit.

[angeart]

Hiii I would like to participate in the ask game! 🍄?? :))

hi hiiii! <3 love u for participating!

there's actually one version of answer for that question already >>here<< but dw u get one too!! :3

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

i think this became obvious in wild life but i noticed that both scar and grian are providers in their own ways when given the right space and a chance for it. but if we take them as a pair and put them somewhere safe like hermitcraft, i think it shows a bit differently than when they're deep in a life game.

grian loves to give and take freely, without boundaries. he loves sharing and feeling involved and a part of things, and he wants to give that feeling back. he gives gifts and goes out of his way to organise little or big ways to connect; he leaves cryptic presents and silly pranks; he swarms with attention both direct and indirect. that's his love language.

but consider. he does get tired. and he has nightmares sometimes, and he sleeps badly. and when he wears himself out, he sleeps in a lot; a near-nocturnal birb, useless in the mornings.

somehow, he sleeps better in scar's bed. in ways he can't quite grasp (it's the warmth and sense of familiarity and safety), it somehow feels more restful.

and scar happily lets him! he's soo happy whenever grian sleeps over. he'd love for it to be the normal, minus grian's fatigue. there's that edge of domesticity they both crave but dance around admitting to wanting it.

so in turn, scar's love language is to make sure not to wake grian up when scar gets up early. and it's to make sure that grian wakes up to the smell of fresh warm coffee and pancakes. it's companionship of pointless rambles far from heavy topics, and quiet laughter and warmth of a home and hearth, and borrowed swreaters and cat cuddles. it's indulging grian's anticts as well as his sulky moods, and offering him homebaked treats and distractions to lift the mood.

so just think of that morning scene. an exhausted grian sleeping in until noon, light streaming through the window, sunrays dancing across his wings, and— scar's leaning against the doorframe, eyes soft and so, so fond, with zero intention of interrupting or waking grian up. he knows the man needs the sleep, and he's so happy grian feels safe enough to get it here.

and the coffee is warm, and the pancakes are fluffy and ready.

>> question from Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

[honeyhonest]

Hehehehehehe Lilia coming back from the dead is yet another thing that makes him the most perfect man ever - Necromancy is sexyyyy

And I'm so glad to play EN and not have experienced his death without knowing for sure he'd.. get better from being dead. I'd have been ugly crying so bad I wouldn't have been able to see him being a goof about it through my tears

If I didn't already feel bad about sending so many asks I'd be rambling my heart out about the diasomnia family, and the shroud brothers uuggh they're all so lovely and well written help I love this game

I wonder if there'll be any consequences of the whole necromancy thing in book 8. power of friendship or not, that's some insane magic work and lilia just... respawning can't be the end of his story

don't feel bad abt sending asks, I'm just slow answering them since I've been so busy lately <3 let's all speculate on the horrors of book 8... together!

[luguangs]

Shaking your hand shaking your hand shaking your hand. Thank you for being the first person to engage with my rambling 1000xRESIST post. Also compliments on the username; I do think ORV has some parallels in 1000xRESIST. Specifically how both Dokja and Iris were in isolation, and duplicated themselves in a way where their copy hated them and tried to kill them. The main difference being that Dokja had others who cared about him, but Iris had already gotten rid of anyone who might intervene in her new world. And both of them are EXCELLENT at being works that have no single all-consuming thesis, but instead are complex and interwoven narratives that cannot be consumed and understood in a single attempt, or even by a single viewpoint.

absolutely insane ask to wake up to. hello. a fellow 1xr AND orv enjoyer oh my gosh..... how does it feel having immaculate taste!!! we are melding minds rn 🧠🤝🧠

throwing up blood at the dokja/iris parallels i feel sick to my stomach!!! thank YOU for being the first person to bring up the orvcore of this game. i've been literally vibrating out of my skin without anyone to scream about this hyperspecific niche with so i hope you don't mind me rambling for a sec lmao

you're SO right about their similarities and it's breaking my heart.... also the way both iris and dokja only know how to sacrifice, and the tragic irony of how they both take after their mothers in this because it's the only way they know to love. and the contrast between iris deciding to show everyone her past which led to her eventual demise vs dokja hiding his past at all costs and taking up the blade to doom himself.

also! the themes of stories and memories. how the keepers/occupants were referencing memories and the outer gods were beings of excised stories. and the concept of death and remembrance as a transfer. how a story is alive as long as someone out there is thinking of it. a person living through the memories of others. how because of this both dokja and iris remained and remained and remained after death.

i also see a lot of similarities between watcher and od... both scattered across time and having lived too many lifetimes, lost in reminiscence in an endless train. they're the reason their current timeline exists because they embodied that balance between remembrance of the past and hope for the future... even if that future didn't include themselves.

the difference was watcher communed in an attempt to understand, and od dreamed out of love for that one story... but in a way, just like orv said, isn't trying to understand someone a labor of love? how you can keep rereading a person's story and find something new each time, and still never fully understand them?

oh!! i absolutely love how you articulated that last part about narratives that can't be completely understood by a single viewpoint... i've often found those to be my favorite kind of stories; the ones that raise questions without any one definitive answer, that allow for different interpretations and multiple readings. and you're right, both of these stories are PEAK in that regard 🤌

also if you'd like another story with similar vibes, interwoven narratives, and nuanced themes i highly recommend a manhwa called Truth or Dare (Jinsolhan Segye) by Yu Myeong. it's fairly short and it starts out slow but gets very philosophical and is a social commentary on so many things... i posted some rambling propaganda here if you're curious but tbh i'd rec going in blind! i don't want to say too much about it because just like with 1xr and orv there's so much joy in gleaning the themes in a story for yourself <3

[stabbyfoxandrew]

You said to send asks about your AUs, so here I am. Angel Neil basically died, sky daddy (or whoever) told him "protect this guy" and was sent on his merry way, no context whatsoever. Honestly, poor guy. Does he know the full extent of his angel powers? Did he have to try them out, or was he just gifted with the knowledge of how to use them? Sometimes I think about Angel Neil and how lonely he must feel, staying on all of those rooftops, and then I get sad. Do all the people who die become guardian angels, or only a sect of them? What happens to the others? Where is Mary? Hell, heaven, is she also a guardian angel, or is she just gone? This is why I don't send asks about your AUs because if I start yapping, I won't stop :')

Yes I did! Thank you for sending this! <3 I'm going to answer under the cut so my insane rambles won't annoy anyone.

So, yeah... Neil died, became an angel, and was told his job was taking care of Andrew. Then poof, he was sent to the Columbia house. (He died in July so they were out of class still.) Neil got his charge mixed up with Aaron a lot at first, because... Twins. But eventually figured them out. (Thankfully. Lol imagine if he'd accidentally appeared to the wrong one.)

He doesn't know about all his angel powers! He's figuring things out as he goes. On his own even in his afterlife. (So Neil of him.) So, yeah. It took him a while to realize he had wings. Longer still to figure out how to work them. He can miracle pain away. And the knife appeared suddenly with no warning. Like... He's got all these amazing things he doesn't know how to control that well. :') Poor baby.

Yeah. :( Most of Neil's spare time is spent just lying on rooftops and watching the sky. Sometimes he sleeps when Andrew does, sometimes he doesn't. He doesn't really have to, after all. Sometimes he'll watch games with Kevin, sometimes he sits on the roof of Andrew's car while they're driving and he almost feels alive.

Not everyone becomes a guardian angel. Just those who don't really fit in anywhere else? Neil didn't subscribe to religion. He didn't fit into Heaven or Hell because of things he'd had to do to survive... So it was either Angel or Ghost? But SOMEONE (I can't tell you who) realized that Andrew needed to be watched over and Neil just so happened to get the job.

Mary was Neil's guardian angel for a while after she died. Then she crossed a line (she killed a human for looking at her son wrong and said human wasn't going to hurt Neil) and was removed from her position for taking an innocent life. Not sure what her fate was, but she is gone now.

Also, if you read to the bottom, hi! <3 Thank you so much for asking these questions. I honestly really appreciate it and I would love to answer any more you have! (If I can do so without spoiling anything that comes later.) Seriously! I love talking about my writing and this sort of thing helps me world build a little if that makes sense?i

[complicitgirlfrot]

A late favor returned for one of my fave moots~

4. Genie granted you three NSFW wishes. What are you wishing for?

19. Would you be able to go full month just pleasing your partner daily, without getting anything back?

50. Favourite thing to do when being dominated?

Haaaiiiiiii <3 sorry for letting this sit for like 2 months. Teehee i forgor

Anyways.. answers. Gotta have a couple of those laying around here somewhere

4. A genie grants you 3 NSFW wishes. What are you wishing for?

Easy. I mean its not cuz this question is the reason i let this set for so long but like. I have answers now:

Shapeshifting. I’m trans and a monsterfucker. Self-explanatory

Teleporting. My favorite moots fuck on the regular and I'm not invited cuz i live some fucking 500 miles away and am going insane thisting after them. If i could teleport this would be a nonissue. That 8 hour drive grows more tempting by the day

I can't be bothered to think of a 3rd one so i'll be cheeky and wish for the bonus pic anon teased earlier today cuz i'm absolutely drooling over the tummy pic they posted. Call them the bit the way i'm chomping after it

19. Would you be able to go the full month just pleasing your partner daily, without getting anything back?

I mean thats basicslly how i live now soooo... yeah. Easy.

To be fair tho, my partner *really* enjoys recieving head and i *really* fucking enjoy eating them out cuz of an unchecked oral fixation so i don't get exactly nothing out of it

50. What is your favorite thing to do while being dominated?

Whine

Lol no. While true, i probably have a mostly better answer

Thing is, i don't get dominated very often (hence the title of my blog), and when it does happen its not like, a lot or very hard domination, y'know? So a lot of my answer still sits within the realm of untested fantasy (which i desperately hope to amend). I've really enjoyed the light bondage, petplay, and degradation that i've gotten to try and want to do both more. I fucking love to follow directions, especially if its something that will make me really desperate. Also the punishment for if i dont follow them correctly. Oh and the-

Yeah, i'm cutting this short before i lose myself and ramble on hornily for like 2 hours. I got things to do. Of all the options and considerations and fantasies and whatever, my favorite thing to do (so far) is to eat someone out/suck someone off (haven't tried the 2nd one yet) while they ride my face. Bonus points if it's a 69 type situation. Extra bonus points if there's someone else and it's a spitroast type situation

Also normally i would reblog or link the ask game but that thing is fucking gone sooooo yeah.

[starboishifting]

🌼 : BEAUTIFUL BLOSSOM . . . what do you find most beautiful about your significant other(s)? what about that aspect of them is so beautiful to you? and in turn what do they believe the most beautiful thing about you is? why do they think that way?

🪷 : LOVELY LOTUS . . . do you and your significant other(s) do any "cheesy" stuff? like having matching pajamas, matching halloween costumes, and picnic dates? or building the flower legos, cooking together, baking together?

🌷 : TIMELESS TULIP . . . what was your relationship with your significant other(s) like before you started dating? were you friends? enemies? academic rivals? did they know you liked them? did you know they liked you?

aaa so many asks, anon, i love you <3

⋆｡˚☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩ || answering for my better c/r, where i'm permashifting to

🌼 : BEAUTIFUL BLOSSOM . . . what do you find most beautiful about your significant other(s)? what about that aspect of them is so beautiful to you? and in turn what do they believe the most beautiful thing about you is? why do they think that way?

i have far too much fun with this question, and i apologize if i ramble, i just love them both so much.

the thing i find most beautiful about ethan is his smile; that crooked grin makes my heart skip and my head spin. i don't know how properly to function when he smiles, whether towards me or anyone else. i could just stare at his grin for hours without getting bored, i could listen to him talk or sing. and i love when he sings, because he spends the entire time that he's singing beaming. the thing i find most beautiful about andy is their eyes. i lose my mind when i look into their eyes. that perfect chocolate brown like my favorite coffee that turns that gorgeous, honeyed gold when the sun hits. they're exquisite; andy is exquisite. i love them both so much it kills me.

🪷 : LOVELY LOTUS . . . do you and your significant other(s) do any "cheesy" stuff? like having matching pajamas, matching halloween costumes, and picnic dates? or building the flower legos, cooking together, baking together?

all of those things and more. we go to dublin every year for samhain, and we always coordinate costumes, even before we were all dating. after we started all dating, which was just before christmas, we all got the shitty reindeer pajamas that all matched and itched like hell. the picnic dates are at the very least monthly, because i force them on a train to someplace warmer when it's too cold to do it in edinburgh. we cook and bake together all the time, andy specifically is teaching me how to cook vegan and slovakian foods, and ethan is teaching me about french food (it's weird and i can't tell if i like it or not), while i teach the about greek and korean food. we read and game and build legos and puzzles together all the time, and we spend almost all of our time together because i don't like anyone but them.

🌷 : TIMELESS TULIP . . . what was your relationship with your significant other(s) like before you started dating? were you friends? enemies? academic rivals? did they know you liked them? did you know they liked you?

...they knew i liked them. more specifically, andy knew. ethan was oblivious, despite andy telling him repeatedly that i had feelings for them both. i lived with them for a year before i admitted i had feelings for them, but i'd been in love with ethan since we met when i was 16 and he was 19. i moved to edinburgh to be with them after ethan and andy started dating, and i stayed in their guest room (i paid rent, obviously) and maybe, sort of, 100% make a burner twitch account to shower them with subs and donations because i love them both so much. andy knew it was me but didn't confront me until i was delirious with a fever, which was also when i admitted that i was in love with them.

thank you for the ask, i so loved answering it

[zakuryoishi]

I just felt like asking about Inamine. I can't think of anything specific to ask but just want to hear about the ship more if you don't mind. (I struggled asking tbh but that's just me.)

YAY INAMINE ASK🎉🎉 (also dw about struggling w asks its a very real thing) (ramble under the cut because it got a bit long you know how it is)

i think everyone knows already but there's no canon base for the ship itself lol, they're just two guys i liked enough to pair together.

i don't think yoshimine has any defining traits other than being a good forward (literally, that's his game description) and even if it's been a hot minute since the last time i watched inago, i don't think he had something specific in the anime. he was just there with his flying fish hissatsu beating up sangoku until raimon obviously won. i think i made up most of his personality atp, but i believe compared to his kaiou teammates he's a little less arrogant and all, but he's still a seed. as for inaba, WE HAVE AN USEFUL IN-GAME DESC🎉 and he's rude and overconfident and prideful and i love him for that. i think everyone hates him at some point because he has a terrible personality. inaba and yoshimine don't get along well, they probably hate each other at first. inaba because he thinks lowly of yoshimine and yoshimine because he can't stand inaba's attitude. after the first episodes kuro no kishidan disappears, and i personally headcanon that after tsurugi left they just disbanded the team and fifth sector doesn't give a fuck about the members so inaba is still around their influence but isn't regarded at all. for kaiou, a team of all seeds, i think they sent them back to god eden. yea this one's pretty bad sorry. so maybe inaba and yoshimine knew each other in not so good terms before kaiou's loss and started to get a bit more along after that. it makes sense in my head, i swear. but also they're doomed because yoshimine is sent back to god eden so like, they don't see each other until the protags fix everything. also as far as i know inaba isn't a seed, just a player who's under fifth sector but i like to believe he is one because it would make much more sense. in my perfect world inaba and yoshimine met in god eden without recognizing each other, but still, they're both first years and holy road is at the start of the school year so we have three thousand plot holes, like: when did they go to god eden? how did they even met each other there? when was kuro no kishidan created? i think akihiro hino should answer my questions. jokes aside i cant make it work without tweaking a bit of canon or ignoring canon itself, but we ball. now, ignoring the plot because otherwise i will go insane, i think it would be so fucking funny if inaba was the one who had a crush on the other. he would totally hate it and try to ignore it so much it'd make him crazy. both are on some stupid level of loser anyway so it's not that it would be better if we reverse the roles. they're the kind of couple that disagrees on almost everything and broke up at least 3 times but they still work somehow. they're kinda terrible but i love them they r my losers (and who knows, maybe every once in a while they can be sweet with eo)

[panzershrike-pretz]

*basically falls into your ask box* PRETZ I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVEN'T ASKED YOU SOMETHING YET SORRY

okay 10, 12, 21, and 27 for the hbowar ask game!!

HI BLU!!! Hope you didn't hurt yourself with that fall! XD

10. An OC you can't get enough of?

First of fucking all: I love you guys' ocs!! Feel free to ramble about them to me, I love meeting new characters!

So, starting off with @malarkgirlypop because I absolutely fucking ADORE Emily. She is just the best and reminds me of a friend of the same name, so I just love vibing away with her! Her whole deal comung from the future and being so absolutely different from ths boys but at the same time fitting right in?? Love that

And then there's @coco-bean-1218. I LOVE OC!CLAIRE SO MUCH SHE'S SO ADORABLE!!!! I LOVE HER AND CAN'T WAIT TO READ THE FUCK OUT OF WELL BEHAVED WOMEN NEVER MAKE HISTORY!!! (also can we talk about that title??? Because I love it)

We also got @next-autopsy 's ocs. All of them but like,,,, I have a special something for Francesca. Obviously I live Birdie as well but like. Francesca resonates with me. (I ABSOLUTELY ADORE BIRDIE'S NICKNAME AND SHE REMINDS ME OF A SHRIKE OR A LONG-EARED NIGHTJAR).

Finally, yours! @xxluckystrike! YOUR OCS ARE SO COOL! I am so fucking hyped to learn more about them and eead your fics qhen u post it!!

12. Songs that you associate with certain mutuals?

Idk if I'll be able to give explanations to everyone but I'll try! Also, I use only vibes.

@malarkgirlypop - she makes me think of Set It All Free by Scarlett Johnsson, from the movie Sing! I just adore her vibes so like. Am I wrong? (Don't answer this)

@luckynumber4 - definetely makes me think of the song Everything Moves by Bronze Radio Return! I love this song so much and it brings me Lou vibes, idk why.

@xxluckystrike - you make me think of Break My Stride by Matthew Wilder! You just have this fun vibe and I love it a whole lot!

@whollyjoly - We Own The Night by The Wanted! This is such a upbeat song and I feel like it fits you a lot, but also It's Tough To Be a God from Road to El Dorado, but especifically the Annapantsu cover. Yes it's because of the cult.

@sweetxvanixlla - Biscuits by Kacey Musgraves! You give responsible(TM) vibes a lot. And this song is just adorable like you. Fight me.

@georgieluz - Curses by The Crane Wives. This song makes me think of you, deal with it :]

@land-sh - The Cult of Dionysus by The Orion Experience! Yeah, listen to it and you'll understand.

@next-autopsy - Battlecry by Mazare and Philip Strand. I CANNOT listen to it without thinking of you and Made of Glass! I love this song a lot.

@coco-bean-1218 - Come Along by Cosmo Shelldrake. This is one of my favorite songs and artists and I just HAD to choose it since you were the reason I first got into the BoB fandom!

@footprintsinthesxnd - Fly Away by TheFatRat. I was OBSSESSED with this song not long ago! And it's just so good too? Definetely makes me think of you!

27. What is your favorite moment during your time in the fandom?

That has to be the Cult thing. It started as a joke and took over my fucking life xD

Again, sorry to any mutuals I didn't include! I tried my best here, so enjoy the songs and all that! Love u guys <3

[branmuffins22]

3, 6, 13, 22 from this ask game

Oooh, that's a lotta good ones. Thanks for the ask!

3. a snippet that encompasses my style

Now, this one's tough, since I tend to write in 3rd-person limited perspective, so the style changes somewhat with the voice of the focus character. Some characters think almost in staccato, some are long-winded and rambly, some are really observant, some are just there for the ride, etc.

That said, I did find something pretty indicative of my overall style in my ragefic twist on the ending of Thanks to Them:

She finally spared a glance away from the monster, at Hunter, now cradled by Willow and Camila, tears in both their eyes. Hunter, whose mouth was just slightly parted, but whose shallow breaths, hissing through the gap in his teeth, were nowhere to be heard. Hunter, whose hands laid open at his sides, rather than balled into familiar, tense fists. Hunter, whose whole body remained limp, both perfectly lax and perfectly still. …Perhaps not Hunter, then, if she was willing to jump to conclusions. Hunter's corpse. She couldn't help the wet gasp that escaped her at the sight of her lifeless brother, nor the whimpering, growling groan that came out with her next breath. Like pouring a can of soup into an already-hot pan, shock and dread popped, sputtered, sizzled, and spat, loud enough to make her flinch, until the grief finally sunk in, the excess heat ran its course, and a burnt residue was left caked onto the bottom. A crusty, sludgy layer of loss, fear, and indignity now tainted the dish, and Belos just wouldn't stop talking, scraping it up and stirring it in. The heat rose, and the whole pot soon grew dark and acrid, until all that was left was a dubious sludge of smoldering heartbreak, seething rage. Her whole body shook, her mind raced, her defiant expression broke, and her heart hammered away in her chest. She was vaguely aware that she should put out the fire, take the pot off the stove, open a window, plug her nose, just do something about it. Gus looked back and forth, up and down, from the monster to his victim, so quickly he almost seemed to be nodding, the only one still standing who seemed to notice Hunter's current state. Flapjack kept twittering, desperate and pained, trying to tell Luz something only Hunter would've been able to understand. Vee whined at her failing phonecall as Camila shakily stood to get in front of her, between her daughter and the hijo de puta who'd made her, locked her up, and tortured her. Willow muttered stilted apologies under her breath, Amity hissed furious and terrified breaths between clenched teeth, and Belos kept rambling and ranting and raving. Luz, however, parsed none of it, nothing at all, every voice and every sound drowned out by her own blood, thrumming ceaselessly in her ears. But then, clarity. White-hot clarity.

Sentences with more clauses than a legal document? Check! Long-winded, convoluted metaphors/similes? Check! One or more descriptors for almost every noun and verb? Check! Dynamic pacing? Check! A cliffhanger in the snippet? Of course! Can't spoil too much.

6. a snippet that I struggled with, but triumphed over

Here's an easy answer, from earlier in the same fic:

"No, no, no, no—!" Luz tried to tuck Flapjack into her fanny pack, planning to jump into the water to save his witch, but she barely got his legs in before she was unceremoniously shoved aside. "Move." Camila's tone left no room for argument. Without any hesitation, she dove into the surely-icy abyss after the boy who'd come to be her son, a smaller-than-expected splash revealing remarkable skill for the task. Luz let out half of a tense breath. See, he'll be fine! Mamá's got him! The rest of the kids rushed after her, to the side of the bridge, leaning over its frozen precipice. They all strained their eyes to watch as bubbles, barely visible in the dark, broke the surface of the pitch-black gravewater. Amity proved to be more present than the rest, the first and only to cast a witchlight over the bridge, searchlight and lighthouse in one. Still, they couldn't see Camila or Hunter. They'll be fine… right? Seconds passed like hours, and the quiet chorus of bubbles turned from a steady drone into almost-distinct beats. Whatever was happening in the murky depths, Camila had changed her stroke. Was she growing desperate, unable to find Hunter without reliable sight to guide her? Had she finally gotten a hold of him, and was dragging him up to the surface in uneasy strokes? Was Belos fighting her underwater? C'mon, please come back, please be okay… The bubbles changed again, now murmuring in a barely-pulsing rumble. Her stroke may have changed again, or perhaps she was just panicking, running out of air. Please, please, PLEASE! Even if she wasn't panicking, her kids definitely were. Trembling, with bated breath, they desperately waited for some other change, anything more concrete than bubbles to tell them what might be happening. I can't lose them, I CAN'T lose them! Then, moments later, a murky silhouette came into focus. At last, Camila began to surface beside the bridge, and to their enormous relief, she was holding an unconscious Hunter to her chest with one arm. As she finally broke the surface, she took one deep gasp of air, and in the same motion, deftly heaved the boy over and up onto the bridge. Only once he was secure did she let Luz and Vee help her up. Camila once again counted herself lucky to have spent some time in college working as a lifeguard, so that she could at least do this right tonight, if nothing else. But her job wasn't done yet. After taking another deep breath to steady her nerves, she started with some delegation. "Vee, call an ambulance; Willow, set him flat on his back," she ordered, already crawling to be level with his head. Once she was there, she turned her ear just above his mouth, eyes facing his chest to look for any signs of breathing, and reached two fingers to his neck to find his pulse. Unfortunately, she was interrupted before she could feel even a single beat or breath. Hunter twitched once, startling Camila off of him, and then began to convulse, as the black-green rot infesting his body expelled itself in flowing tendrils. His spasms slowly petered out as the goop coalesced at the end of the bridge, into the monstrous, roaring form of the once-emperor; the vial of titan's blood, briefly forgotten, now held in his grotesque claws. Belos then loomed into a kneel before them, pounded his empty fist into the ground, and berated the boy who had been his unwilling host, "CALEB! You would stab me in the back?!"

Hey, it even incorporates a few other common elements of my style: made-up portmanteaus (like "gravewater"), and action or description in place of dialog-claiming verbs such as "said" (like "Camila's tone left no room for argument.")

You might wonder why this one was so hard. It's a pretty straightforward retelling of events that happened on-screen (though not necessarily in the same way they happened), so I didn't exactly have to do much imagining for it. Should've been dead-simple, right?

Nah. The hard part came from the fact that the last paragraph of that snippet was the very first thing I wrote for the whole fic, and that I wrote the whole rest of this snippet backwards, after I had written the rest of the scene (including the first snippet).

It was a massive pain in the ass, lmao. Definitely one of the dumber things I've done.

13. a snippet that helped me understand a character better

Ooooh, I've got a couple of fun ones for under-explored characters, like Masha, Principal Bump, Camila, or Morton, but I think the one that really got me into their head the most was a segment I wrote for The Bat Queen in Something Like a Bible:

The human was strange to The Bat Queen. She was reckless, stubborn, but also caring, empathetic. Completely out of her depth, but still tried and tried until she eventually succeeded. Her magic was familiar, too, yet the Bat Queen couldn't place it. Perhaps something she had known millenia ago, lost to time. The human offered to help her if she wanted to learn about her past again. That is how she had somehow found herself indebted to a human. Or, perhaps the human was indebted to her? Unclear. But the babies liked her, and her dedication to young Owlbert had impressed several of the palismen, so she would be welcomed back into their grove again in time. Perhaps there was no debt at all, between herself and the human, her only loose ends being her forgotten past and what she still owed Eda. Speaking of which, it appeared they were all neighbors, if the human really lived with the Owl Lady. While she was not quite set in her opinion of the human, the youngest Clawthorne was something like a family friend. She hoped to remain on good terms with her, and with all her neighbors in these woods, as they would surely see eachother again in due time, especially with debts involved. Then, as usual, they would meet again, and again, and again, until the generation's close, when the woods would be left empty once more. Or, perhaps, the woods wouldn't become empty this time. The human was young, much younger than the Owl Lady, and seemed to get along quite well with Eda's palisman, despite the lack of a true bond. Perhaps she would inherit the Owl House when Eda passed. Perhaps it would become home to more than just a person, to a family. She would like that. Her own babies would grow up someday as well, though she might never pass to leave her grove behind to them. As for the palismen, their numbers were already dwindling, palistrom becoming critically endangered, and they would all move on or be captured eventually. No doubt the grove would grow lonely, in time. It would be nice to have good neighbors.

She may be odd, and abrasive, and furiously protective of her charges, but beyond all that, the Bat Queen is also very, very old. She holds no inherent malice for others, despite her self-enforced isolation, but she's seen it all before. She knows it's best not to get too attached to the short-lived people around her, but by her nature as a palisman, she simply can't help it. In the events of Escape of the Palisman, Luz and Owlbert even brought out a somewhat wistful side of her.

She's super interesting.

and finally, 22. a snippet that is so blissfully self-indulgent

Now, you could argue that all fanfic is self-indulgent (in fact, I'd argue it should be), but somehow, all my most indulgent ideas either haven't made it to page, were explored in Theseus Who?, or are steeped in spoilers for my other stories.

Finding a balance between self-indulgence and plot irrelevance, I suppose I can reveal some of the premise for Intermission: In the Making, via a segment of Eda's note to Luz:

Hey kiddo. From the moment you popped through my portal door, you've been a wonderful student, a wonderful friend, and just a wonderful kid. It took me less time than I aughtta be comfortable with to start thinking of you as my kid, and the way you brought the rest of us together certainly didn't help. King calls you his sister, Lily calls you her niece, even Mom and Dad have started calling you one of "the grandkids". Dang old people :P Like it or not, you've wormed your way into this family, but with the whole 'Day of Unity' thing being what it is, I've gotta acknowledge the fact that there might not be many of us left after this. You, King, and Lily are gonna be the only ones without sigils, after all, hence the note. I hope to heck that when you find it, you can just ask me about it, instead of having to read it all yourself, and I hope if you can't, that I at least hid it well enough to give you some time to grieve first, but dang if I'm not gonna be thorough about this, for once in my life, so I'm sorry if that isn't the case. We Clawthornes have a few traditions; you may already know we were a long line of palisman carvers by trade, especially before the shortage, but we've also got a few secret family recipes here and there. Some stews that'd probably kill a human, some unique woodstains and such, but the one I'd most like to pass your way is a special potion. You remember the day you pulled my mom out of that phony cure scam, when you mentioned hoping that your hair could one day be big enough to store whole bottles in it? Well, that trick of ours isn't just a matter of having great hair, it's a Clawthorne specialty. Hardly anyone knows it, especially now with the shortage, but palistrom trees are a treasure trove of material magic, good for way more than just carving palismen. Case and point, the bark is a key ingredient for a potion to turn just about anything with enough loose keratin into a hammerspace, and a head of hair works beautifully for that. (Lily's busy writing a footnote encyclopedia about all the other things palistrom trees can be used for, so you can look forward to that.) I got my treatment when I was around your age, King got his before he was talking in complete sentences, and Lily got hers when she went back to live with our folks a few months ago, so now, it's your turn.

Yeah, I'm giving Luz the hair hammerspace. Eventually. Why not? It's got the potential for both fluff and angst, it doesn't change the way her character is written in the vast majority of cases, and it's a fun little character gimmick that ties her to her found family in the Demon Realm! Dang, I really did get immediately defensive about giving a character a non-canon ability, huh? I've gotta work on that. Especially for [SPOILERS] and [SPOILERS]. And probably [SPOILERS] too, now that I think of it.

[kafkaoftherubble]

Hello friend!

11, 12, 21, 23 for the ask game :3

A rare moment when I, Lyndis, reblogs an ask game and don't say shit like DON'T ASK ME I HAVE NO TIME TO WRITE A RAMBLE and THIS IS FOR MY MUTUALS TO REBLOG SO I CAN ASK YOU.

12- What do you want to be remembered for when you die?

Honestly, I don't mind not being remembered for anything, since I'm more interested in my actions than other people's memories of me.

I favor people remembering me in occasional snippets, flashes of memories simply because some actions or experiences reminded them of me than everyone trying to make sense of who I was only after I died.

I remember people this way, too; plenty of stuff that happens now will remind me of someone—no matter how distant they were. They could be my friend for those few hours while we were in that children's park, or a stranger I just happened to be staring at as something happened, or a person who had wanted to befriend me but didn't know how to bridge the gap because I was so weird.

I will remember the event(s) that involved them. And then the current me will have new appraisals and understandings of that person in this memory. Many of these random people are still alive (I guess through statistics! Ahahah!), but they are already remembered because their actions meant something—for good or ill, and sometimes, both—to the me of that time.

So I prefer that. I don't want to be remembered as the person I am at the time of death. I want to be remembered as the person I was at a snippet of time because of a deed I've done. Good or bad, it's fine.

---

Wow, I am already writing a loooooong one. BUT YOU EXPECTED THAT, DIDN'T YOU?

MORE UNDER THE CUT.

21- How would you dispose of a body?

Hey, wait a second. What makes you think I will ever need to do this?! I need to read up on the literature, put out a Microsoft Excel sheet on bibliography and citations, and then write a thesis to come up with a good way of disposal. You can't just spring this one on me!

I think I will dismember it and store the parts in vacuum bags separately to throw them away (without the bags because they don't decompose). Feeding it to wildlife at the bottom of a canyon or high in the mountain is great, but I don't have that sort of place nearby.

If I have the money, I will do it the normal way. Funeral homes and cremation.

Hmm... If I live in Scandinavian countries, body disposal might be an easier feat given the vast forests. At least, that's what Nordic noir films and drama say. Also, if I were to live in those countries, I don't think I'd resort to murder to solve my problems, cause' I kinda think violence is the means of the incompetent (and sometimes, the choiceless). Yea, I don't think I'm the type to kill for pleasure.

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23- Would you rather be burned at the stake but die a saint beloved by all, or die peacefully but have nobody remember you?

Oh! Hmm. Again, since I don't mind not being remembered the way most people conceptualized "being remembered" (see my answer for Q12)... the latter isn't bad at all.

This is particularly because this question didn't preclude the latter from also being helpful and benevolent to the people who live around them or even performing deeds that go a long way toward helping a lotta people. They just don't get burned at a stake. Or be recognized as a saint for their work. Aye, that's not bad at all!

In the case where the sorta things I want to do—or the deeds worth doing—deadass ensures a fate at the stake as a beloved saint, and there's absolutely no way out of this?

Urgh, fine. But I will definitely be complaining. Even my AAHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUCKKKK will have tonal inflections so you know I died complaining. I will go out noisily.

It's kinda funny, but I'm now wondering which feels more embarrassing to me. The fact that I'm tied to a stake for this fiery punishment, or the fact that I'm somehow a saint and everyone loves me. Bruh?

I'm telling ya, both make my cheeks burn. The former does that literally once the pyre starts, though.

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11- When’s the last time you cried?

The last time I cried was Monday night.

Now, you might wonder why. I will tell you because I don't want you to be worried. But there's a reason why this is the last one. I won't be graphic, and it's ultimately—objectively—very ridiculously trivial, but it may be triggering to people with OCD. Which Future Lyns are.

I tried to be Bob the Builder but ended up hurting both of my thumbs because it turned out, I am Blud the Bozo ("Can we fix it? Yes, with BLOOD!"). One of them was a stab wound, and the other was a cut on the print.

I... I have problems with gashes and cuts. Let's just leave it at that.

This wound didn't even bleed; it was just a dermal cut. Anyway, I got it wrapped with a normal plaster.

When it got to the evening, the plaster came off because I was doing the dishes. I heal quickly, so I thought it must have healed. I didn't look very carefully because I can't stand looking at cuts.

While watching a show with my sister and cousin, my thumb suddenly became itchier and itchier. It became painful, but the itch-pain ratio kept changing. I tried to ignore it, and then I couldn't. It became so overwhelming that I was clutching my hand with another as though I was Kakashi Hatake about to do a Chidori.

My sister was like, "BRO, JUST GET IT DRESSED UP, JESUS."

So I told them to continue watching while I went upstairs to my room, where the first-aid bag was.

Then, suddenly, I fell to the floor and started bursting into tears. Legit just sobbing so hard. It wasn't the most painful shit in the world; brutha I have menstrual cramps that can knock me out in public to the diners' horror. This was just itch-pain.

But it's the imageries, yea? That it will be torn open because I would do that. The pain was me tearing it apart! Even though I did no such thing. I pulled my thumb as far away from my other hand because I was afraid that it was true, but it was still itchy and painful and enticing me to rip it, but I didn't want to do that at all, ya know?

I realized that I couldn't even control my body well. It was shaking. My fingers were trembling uncontrollably. The floor was wet with my damn tears. I was just whimpering, man.

Now, the one thing I'm proud of is that my brain has its autonomous zones. The metacognition regions of my brain are fucking ripped, bro. They can operate even when I'm about to black out or close to being compromised (unless I got knocked out by anesthetics). So yea, these regions weren't overwhelmed, so I still remembered what to do. I struggled to get the bag and dropped it instead of putting it down. I did my best to open the zip and pulled out the antiseptic cream tube. Unscrewing it was so hard but finally, I got it!

My fingers were trembling so much, just squeezing a peanut-sized cream was tough. It was hard to aim the cream on my other hand because the target kept moving around uncontrollably. Then spreading it on the gash almost made my hands weak, because I was touching it, and the compulsions...

The last thing to do was to wrap it with a new bandage. Tearing it was easier because my tears had wetted the paper so much. Finally, I got the gash covered.

The itch-pain subsided almost immediately. And the tears just stopped. Control had returned to me like a snap. I wiped my tears and quietly stored the bag. I waited until my throat didn't sound thick with tears and washed my face. I went downstairs and asked, "The fuck did I miss?"

It felt so long. But it was only 10 minutes at most.

Even now, talking about it made my thumb itch a little. Man, the only thing I'm proud of is that I did manage to dress the wound despite all that weird shit over a non-bleeding gash. Nani the fuck?!

THE END! Hope you enjoyed this long read!

P.S. I'm fine now, yea? Don't worry! It's all healed up! See? I can be pathetic too!