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cno-inbminor · 4 years

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domus

a/n: here we have another short drabble dump! i wrote this up very quickly -- i’m still working on that long fic i’ve been talking about! i apologize for taking so long to put it together. pls take this short fic as an apology for now. stay hydrated, wear your masks, and be safe! love you all so dearly <3

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~3.7k, will probably have other parts in the future.

genre/warnings: angst with dashes of fluff; mentions of alcohol

pt. 2 | pt. 3

edit: now crossposted to AO3!

When you’re in love, you spend weeks and months wondering why time won’t stop. You sit and ponder over why you’ll have to die someday and leave behind the person you’ve dedicated your entire soul to, or what might happen if your death came early and you didn’t get to say goodbye. You wonder why the seasons seem to pass you by so quickly, that in the blink of an eye, you go from enjoying a cup of iced tea on the porch to holding a mug of hot chocolate inside watching snowflakes swirl in their journeys to the ground.

But when love ceases to exist, time seems to stop. The days drag for longer, the seasons crawl at a turtle’s pace, and the inevitable end feels less terrifying. You no longer fear the eventual sagging of your skin or the spider legs that grow at the corners of your eyes. You no longer cling onto a hope that there will be a lover’s hand holding yours at your bed of eternal sleep. You simply become, just you. Solitary, single, independent you.

It’s no longer you and someone else. The realization stings so badly that it physically hurts you, a whimper leaving your throat. You shakily reach over for the next blouse and fight back the tears, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. The skin is chapped and broken to the point that you would need layers and layers of chapstick to save any semblance of it, a terrible habit that you wish you hadn’t possessed. It’s muscle memory, the way you fold the blouse in half, fold the sleeves in, bending it over your arm before it lands in a neat stack of other tops in your suitcase. Your eyes take a glance at the clock, and you gather you have about another hour before you needed to leave for the airport and make it on time for your flight.

You ignore the male figure hunched over on the edge of your bed, tuning out his pleas and broken promises. He begs you to give him time, to implore that it’s all his fault and he’ll make it work for the two of you. Tetsuro promises that he didn’t mean to and that it wasn’t anything you did, but you feel so empty inside that you can’t even find the energy to argue, to turn on him and say that he was pretending to take all the blame so it’d be a better explanation to all your friends. A relationship involves both parties, and while there were special exceptions, this wasn’t one of them. Something was clearly wrong with you, and you were okay with that. You were just tired of Testuro attempting to take everything onto himself.

“I thought it’d be best to come clean with you,” he says, throat hoarse from lack of hydration. “I know you would question it and I haven’t done anything, I swear, I know you’re amazing and don’t deserve to live a lie and—”

“Do you want me to say ‘thank you’?” You interjected quietly, morosely. Your hands slide open the underwear drawer and take out a week’s worth of underwear, bras, and bralettes. “Do you want me to express my gratitude in your honesty for telling me that you don’t love me anymore? You can easily buy a trophy online and make the inscription yourself. ‘Most honest man alive’? Is that what you want?” You ask, tone flat and not possessing the least bit of amusement and humor.

“Can’t you give me some time? I’ll try, I’ll try to figure out what went wrong, and I can love you again. We can still get married and everything, but please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving forever, Tetsu. I’m just gone for a week, maybe more.”

“Where are you even going?”

“That’s none of your business,” you quickly reply, defenses back up as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You pick up all the toiletries you can, the ones that would be allowed in your carry-on. Strangers won’t care about your missing skincare routine and your complexion not looking its best.

“What if you get lost? Or kidnapped? What if people ask—”

“Easy. Just tell them I had a last minute business trip, family emergency, whatever floats your boat.”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying? I—”

“This isn’t just about you!” You snap, whirling around to look at him for the first time in the last hour or so. Testuro notices with a pang in his heart that your cheeks have sunken in slightly since he broke his revelation to you just last week, the eye circles darker than ever. But your eyes are soulless, dead, no shine or spark that he’d wake up to every morning even muddled with sleep.

“You can’t just expect me to be okay and continue to bend over backwards for you without question. The least you could do is give me my time, give me some space to think about all of it. That’s the bare minimum.”

And with that, you zip your suitcase shut, grab your passport (even though you probably don’t need it), keys, wallet, and phone, and walk as quickly as you can to the front door. The scheduled Uber will arrive in just a few minutes, and as you slip into a pair of flats, you can hear the creak of the bed and Testuro’s padded steps nearing you.

“Just be careful, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything. You’re still one of the most important people to me, so just – text me at some point. Let me know you’re alive at least.”

“You need to rest. You’re on call tomorrow,” you digress while opening the door.

“(Y/n)—”

“I’ll text you. Promise.”

And the door shuts behind you.

Your relationship with Akaashi Keiji is…hard to explain. In fact, you’re not even sure what to refer him as in your life. Anytime you spoke of him or attempted to explain, you’d fumble over words and draw blanks. While it was irritating and aggravating at times, you learned to just accept it.

Akaashi Keiji was the neighbor down the street, two years older, and someone who had known you since you were 8. Your moms were attached at the hip not longer after you moved to Tokyo, and that meant holidays were spent together, impromptu get-togethers and dinners were a common occurrence, and you saw him frequently at school. He was a quiet soul, gentle, but reserved. In fact, most of the things you knew about him were secondhand conversations from your mother talking about the family, because honestly his mom was basically your second mom now, and your mother trusted you with everything. His past, his troubles, his personality all relayed through your mom from his own, and when you saw him in the hallways, he wasn’t much of an enigma to you. Many other girls had found the mysterious air around him to be attractive, that the pretty setter who only ever smiled around his volleyball team and kept a tight circle of friends had something significant beneath the layers.

Keiji grew up with you, playing Smash on the Wii to pass time as your parents gossiped away. Sometimes, you’d play an intense game of Monopoly with him, a game that typically tipped in his favor. He never said much about himself, always relayed more about others that overlapped in your lives. The most he ever spoke to you about was when it came to teachers at school, even giving you some of his old notes and pointers. But even you could tell that he kept his guards up, and you wondered if he even classified you as a friend.

Your go-to explanation of Keiji’s standing in your life was a family friend. But that insinuated you were close with him, which you weren’t at all. No matter how many times he walked home with you (mainly at the pushing from his mother), no matter how many times he was forced to entertain you at dinners and holidays, no matter how many times he gave you a small smile in school, there was such a large gap between the two of you. He always seemed so different around his team, like they had the privilege of knowing the real him, and at times, you felt…jealous.

And the weird thing is that you can rely on him somehow – whether it be because he’d get an earful from his parents if he didn’t help you when you asked it or out of the goodness of his heart, he was simply always there. Sometimes, you were bold enough to text him about a show he talked about in the past, and he would reply quickly as if your unexpected, rare text about something benign didn’t faze him at all.

Yet despite the distance, despite the lack of any semblance of an actual friendship with him, he was the first one you thought of when all this happened. He was the one you wanted to see – maybe it’s because he was the closest thing to home, and you didn’t want to go back to your parents explaining everything. It’s been a while since you’ve been back in Tokyo, ever since you moved to Sapporo for your job and Testuro got matched for a residency at a hospital there.

At 7PM on a Friday afternoon, past the baggage claim with the sunset beaming in through the sliding glass doors, you stare at Keiji’s contact on your phone, thumb hovering hesitantly over the call button. You could count the number of times you’ve called him on one hand, but this was an emergency, right? Is this why your heart is pounding against your chest, so anxious that you feel like you’ll break into a cold sweat any time soon?

You jump into the deep end.

Your hand nervously brings the phone to your ear, waiting with bated breath as the dial tone echoes in the chamber of your brain. Part of you wants him to miss the call so you can avoid this awkward conversation, but another part of you desperately wants him to pick up as if he’ll be able to save you.

Oh god oh god oh god, you panic as the tone stops, there’s a pause, a rustle, and then a hesitant, “—Hello?”

You didn’t plan this out. You’re not ready for this. Shit, what are you supposed to say?

“—hello? (Y/n)?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

Wow, you’re a terrible conversationalist.

“…um, I haven’t actually. I was about to warm up some leftovers?”

Your eyes focus on the taxis driving by, picking up passengers as they get waved down. Maybe you should just find a cheap hotel nearby, continue this conversation tomorrow.

“Well…I’m in town, actually. I just landed about 30 minutes ago and realized I didn’t have anywhere to go and I don’t really want to call anyone else and I don’t exactly know who else to call so I just, um, thought about calling you and asking if you’ve had dinner? Which if you’re busy and stuff, that’s totally fine, I should’ve texted you beforehand instead of springing this on you and—”

“(Y/n), it’s okay, alright? It’s okay. I’m not busy, so you can stop by. Did my mom ever give you my address?”

Keiji’s brief attempt to calm you down works, surprisingly. You allow yourself to take a deep breath despite the stale airport air, but it was some much-needed oxygen. This is going to be okay, Keiji doesn’t hate you quite yet.

“N-no, she never did.”

“That’s fine, I’ll text it to you. My place is about 30 minutes from the airport, I’d recommend getting a taxi instead of an Uber. I’ll order some delivery—”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“You still like the miso ramen from that shop not far from your house, right? They opened up a second store not far from where I live.”

How did he remember that? You’re pretty sure your own mother had forgotten that fact by now.

“Y-yeah, I do,” you smile to yourself. “I still think about it sometimes.”

“Sounds good then. Get here safely then.”

“Okay. Thank you loads again. I’m sorry for all this—”

“Don’t worry about it. Keep me updated, see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Not 30 seconds later, a text arrives to your phone with an address, a keycode for getting past the main door, and other relevant instructions.

Keiji’s apartment is exactly as you expect it to be – prim, proper, neat almost to a fault, with minimalist decorations. The apartment complex he lives in is rather high-end, if the security guards standing outside the main entrance indicated anything. You almost feel completely out of place or like a bug on the wall as you step in after him, a rather comfortable silence between the two of you. His kitchen is spotless and almost sparkles back at you, and the only thing that seems out of place are the containers of your ramen he so kindly ordered for you.

“Your place is really nice, it’s really…you,” you comment, setting your stuff down at the door. Keiji indulges you with a quiet laugh, making sure that there wasn’t anything that would be in your way. His glasses are perched on his head, an old monochrome t-shirt on his shoulders and sweatpants hung low on his hips, yet in this apartment that almost seems like it should be in an interior design magazine, he looks at home. His ethereal beauty, the softness in his eyes, the gentle up-turned strands of his hair – he belonged here.

“The ramen came not too long ago, so it’s still hot. I’ll go ahead and put it together, you can put your jacket on the couch.”

“Oh, thank you.”

Instead, you fold your jacket over your suitcase and quietly make your way into the apartment. Straight across from you are doors to a balcony – darkness had long taken over the city, so you see nothing but your reflection at first. But as you near the plexiglass, the reflection disappears into the view and you almost gasp from the beauty of it.

Blinking lights, flashing billboards, and the brightly lit Tokyo Skytree peer back at you. It only hits you now how much you’ve missed home, and that even though Sapporo was one of the largest cities in Japan, it still wasn’t Tokyo.

“I never get tired of it,” Keiji chimes in while carrying your bowl of ramen to the dining table.

“It’s an amazing view, I can see why you’d live here,” you reply while moving away from it. The table also has two empty wine glasses, and just as you’re about to ask him why they were there, he returns with a newly opened bottle of chardonnay.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to restock the wine fridge, but I knew I was going to kick myself for not having a bottle of that dessert wine we had before you went off to college,” he said with mirth and amusement. “You remember that one?”

“Yeah,” you nearly splutter, almost flushing that once again, Keiji was remembering details about you that you didn’t even know. “Your mom wanted to throw me a graduation dinner and you made it back in time after finals. And she had a bottle of it and between the two of us, we probably drank most of it. Our parents said it was too sweet.”

He nods and sits across from you, elbows on the table as you mutter, “Itadakimasu,” and start eating. You finish your meal silently for the most part, making small talk here and there. Keiji refills both of your glasses and the two of you sip the wine demurely, and while he seems okay with the lack of an explanation, you’re struggling to find the right words.

“So what’s with the impromptu trip to Tokyo? Are you going to see your parents?”

“Should I try to lie to you?”

“It’s up to you.”

Oh, okay then.

But he looks expectant, as if he knows you wouldn’t lie to him – in fact, you’ve never lied to him before. There was never any need to, but did that just mean neither of you ever cared enough?

“Something happened with me and Testuro. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but at the end of the day…I just needed to get away, as cliché as it sounds,” you laugh brokenly. Keiji continues to carefully observe you with a stare that you can’t escape. “I don’t want to tell my parents – you know them, they’ll ask a million questions. Without thinking, I booked a ticket to Tokyo and…now I’m here.”

That was a lie. How are you supposed to tell Keiji that he was the first person you thought of in an effort to run away? You and Keiji have never gotten personal before, he made sure of that. The last thing you want to do is weird him and scare him off.

“…did he cheat on you?” Keiji asked. His voice is darker in his inquiry, deeper than you’ve ever heard before. He has his hands folded in front of his lips and his eyes harden. Testuro may be an old friend to him, but you were in his life longer.

“Nonononono,” you quickly wave off. This isn’t the time to slander your…boyfriend? Could Tetsuro still even be your boyfriend if he no longer has any feelings for you? “Nothing like that.”

“That’s good to hear. If you want, you can tell me another time then. You’re welcome to stay here until you go back to Sapporo.”

You look up at him, eyes incredulous. Could Keiji really be this comfortable with you?

“I wouldn’t mind staying tonight, but I can stay in a hotel for the rest of the week that I’m here.”

“Nonsense,” Keiji refutes, standing from the table and taking your wine glasses to the sink. You follow with your bowl and he starts washing them before you can even offer. “Mom would kill me if she knew I let you pay for a hotel when I have a perfectly functioning bed you can stay in.”

“I mean, if it’s not a bother…”

“It’s not. The futon’s pretty comfortable, I’ve definitely fallen asleep on it plenty of times.”

“We can switch, I would never let you sleep on the futon for a whole week.”

“If you say so then. But for tonight, you can take my bed. Let me grab you an extra towel so you can shower. I’m sure you’ve had a long day,” he says while drying everything off, folding the kitchen towel neatly before heading off to his room. He returns with a large, soft grey towel and you shyly take it from him with a word of thanks, but he stays there in front of you, waiting for something.

“I’m really glad you picked up the phone,” you whisper softly, feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’re entering uncharted territory for the two of you, and this could either kill or strengthen this odd distant friendship. “I meant it when I said I didn’t know who else to call. You were the first person that came to mind and just…I don’t want to make this weird, like you can kick me out,” you begin to ramble. “Don’t feel like you’re obligated to take me in because your mom would be disappointed if you wouldn’t, you’ve already put up with me for over 15 years and it’s fine, I can be on my own and—”

Smooth, calloused hands delicately hold your face, large palms and nimble fingers cupping your cheeks. Your words die on your tongue as Keiji stares straight into your eyes, holding your gaze until your breathing calms down to a steady, languid pace. “You’re my friend, (y/n). So it’s good that you called me.”

“I’m your…friend?” You ask unsteadily, feeling a sense of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms with the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Now go shower.”

“Okay.”

You’re fast asleep before Keiji finishes his own shower, his bedroom door left ajar as the hallway light beams through. He pauses in the midst of drying his hair with a towel, letting it bunch and hang off his neck as he cautiously pushes the door open. Keiji notices your even breathing and how much more relaxed you look in sleep. You’re curled up on your side with the blanket pulled up to your face and he can’t lie: it’s adorable and cute, and he shouldn’t really be thinking these things.

He sits on the edge of the bed in the little space that’s provided, lithe fingers reaching out to brush back a few stray wisps of your hair. Watching you sleep pulls him back into a fond memory he’s kept of the two of you, one that might’ve held very little significance to you but meant something so much more to him. He knows you know him well, he knows how much his mother babbles on about him, and adults were more prone to gossip than the rowdiest of teenagers – he’d be painfully oblivious if he didn’t think you knew that much about him, or more than the average friend.

But it’s comforting to him, sometimes. Knowing you, how kindly you think of others, he might not have to explain what he’s feeling in the moment. You would be able to know, and that soothes him to some degree.

Maybe he had a little bit too much wine as well, but ever so subtly, motions steady and unhurried, he deftly leans closer and closer until his lips brush the apple of your cheek. He lingers for no more than a few seconds and sits back up, gazing at you before standing. His hands adjust the blankets and make sure you’re properly tucked in. He pads away, shutting the door behind him as quietly as possible as to not wake you.

And when he’s found a comfortable position on the futon with his most comfortable throw blanket, he realizes, begrudgingly, that this week will fly by too fast for his liking.

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dear-mrs-otome · 7 years

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50 More Interesting Questions

The last list of questions that made the rounds sucked, so I (@cavern-of-bells) made my own list! I’ll fill this out myself later, but here’s the blank one to get the ball rolling. The rule is: fill this out and tag at least one person you’d like to know more about! Or just fill it out! Or don’t! Answer only some of them! Make up your own questions! “What kind of requirement is that”, you ask? A reasonable one! Who am I to tell you what to do? Anything goes!

1. What kind of food can’t you stand?: Applesauce. I can eat just about anything, and I’ll try darn near anything once, but applesauce slays me. IDK man, the texture just....*shudder* 2. If you could choose one minor inconvenience to never have to deal with again, what would you pick?: When your sheets do that thing in the middle of the night, and the corner comes loose and you gotta fix it when you’re all groggy or else just sleep on bare mattress? Drives me crazy. 3. Have you got any useless talents?: I play a mean hand whistle, and abuse it liberally to play the theme to The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Also I can wiggle my ears up, down, and in circles. 4. If you could be really really good at one thing, what would it be?: I always wanted to be a dancer. Too short though, and never did it as a kid. Too old now. 5. Name a few people you think are extremely good-looking: Tom Hiddleston. Mila Kunis. Natalie Portman. Idris Elba. Cha Seung-won 6. What was your favorite way to pass the time as a kid?: Reading. I used to get in trouble for reading too much - I’d sit up in my window at all hours of the night, reading by the light of our neighbor’s porch lamp. The worst punishment my parents ever came up with was taking all the books out of my room. 7. What is something you’re proud of?: I’ve had a couple of short stories published in a literary journal. I also worked as an editor for one, briefly. 8. What’s one character flaw in people that you just can’t tolerate?: Being chronically late. It’s so disrespectful, and just says that you care more about yourself than others. 9. Do you consider yourself to be more of a leader or a follower?: Neither? I tend to do my own thing, frankly. I’m happy doing either though. 10. What kind of student are/were you?: I was always fairly good, though I have a real problem with procrastination. 11. Butterfly effect question! Has there ever been a seemingly minor decision you’ve made (at the time) that ended up having a profound influence on your life?: On a whim, I sent a Myspace (remember that?) message to my old dorm friend from college years after graduation, a boy who lived on the floor above me and who I spent most of my freshman year pining after his roommate. When we finally connected, ostensibly for coffee just to catch up, he asked me if I wanted to actually go to coffee, or if I wanted to take a chance on the ‘Mystery Option’, as he put it.

I chose the Mystery Option, and we’ve been together for 11 years now.

12. Name your most irrational fear/aversion: I hate anything related to parasites. Like, run screaming from the room if they’re in a movie or on TV. I still haven’t been able to watch any Aliens movie. 13. Are there any fictional characters you find especially relatable?: Jane Foster, from the Marvel cinematic universe. She’s earnest and awkward and passionate and smart, and I love her so, so much. 14. If you drink, what kind of drunk are you? Alternatively, what sort of person are you at parties?: I’m usually a happy drunk, who gets up to shenanigans. 15. Do you fall in love easily? Or does it usually take a long time for you to trust someone?: It takes me a long time. All of the men who’ve confessed to me have done so so? Fast? And I’m just...really? I never can reciprocate right away. 16. Would you rather have one close friend or 100 casual friends?: One close friend is worth a thousand casuals. 17. Do you consider yourself to be more of a slob or a neat-freak?: A bit of both. When it comes to certain things I’m a chaotic mess, and other things I’m a complete organizational neat freak. It’s mostly just a matter of how important it is to me. That being said, I can’t abide clutter for long. After awhile I lose my GD mind and have to straighten things up. 18. Describe a place (imaginary or real) that you would find incredibly cozy: An overstuffed window seat in an old Victorian manor, with a view of a rainstorm outside, with a pot of tea and a good book in hand. 19. Do you have kids? If not, do you want them someday?: I have 3. One is thirteen, one is six, and one is two. 20. What was your favorite book as a child? Beauty, by Robin McKinley 21. Name one thing you just don’t get what all the hype is about: 50 Shades of Gray. And all of the Transformers movies, those look awful. 22. Name one thing that you think is tragically underrated: Being alone. Driving a fast car on a warm summer’s night on a windy country road, with the windows down, radio up, just me and my thoughts and my hair loose in the wind. It’s one of my favorite things in the world. 23. If you had to be glued to a person for a month, real or fictional (who you have never met), who would you choose?: Barack Obama. I think he probably would make for fascinating conversation, and he’d handle the entire situation with grace and aplomb. 24. What’s something you’d like the chance to do someday?: Take a very specific trip in Asia - fly in to Sapporo, ride the trains and such south through Japan, and take a ferry from Osaka to Busan, to fly home from Seoul. We have tentative plans for 2019, let’s see if those pan out! 25. Do you typically speak your mind when you have a controversial opinion? Or do generally prefer to not rock the boat?: I tend to keep my opinions to myself, unless I feel pretty comfortable with the people I’m talking to. I don’t handle conflict well. 26. What’s the dumbest fad you’ve been caught up in?: Oh man, I tend to avoid most but...in the early aughts I had a terrible haircut, long in the front and super short and spiky in the back, and I thought it was so punk and cool. 27. What’s something you thought was cool as a kid/adolescent, but now cringe at yourself for?: See the above answer ^ 28. What’s a trait you consider to be very admirable?: People who can make small talk easily. My husband is one of those, and I usually just stand back and watch in awe as he makes anyone comfortable in about ten seconds flat. He’s a champion schmoozer. 29. Is there a particular kind of item people always tend to give you as gifts? (For instance, people always get you things with ducks on them because you like ducks, etc.): People always default to kitchen gadgets for me, and I’m 100% ok with this. I have the best stocked kitchen I know. 30. Do you speak multiple languages? Which ones?: Sadly, no. I can still speak a smattering of French and Spanish, but nothing resembling conversational fluency. 31. Would you rather live in the big city or the countryside?: Sometimes both. I love the outdoors and the silence and solitude of it all, especially a thick mossy forest of towering fir trees. (I blame being from the Northwest) But at the same time, I love the energy of a city and all the experiences you can have there. I’d die without new restaurants to try, or having a plethora of grocery stores to find whatever obscure ingredient I want from. 32. Has there ever been something you were certain you’d hate, but ended up loving?: Snorkeling. I am a passable swimmer at best, and deep water scares me, but there was just so much to look at! And TURTLES! I was too busy looking at everything to be even remotely nervous. 33. Do you mind being the center of attention, or do you prefer the spotlight to be on someone else?: Absolutely not. I’d rather crawl into a hole and die - I leave making a spectacle of himself to Mr. Otome, and I just watch with amusement from the sidelines. 34. Favorite holiday?: Halloween, all the way. We go big, decorate like mad, have a huge party, get hundreds of trick or treaters. I LOVE IT ALL. 35. Are you a more go-with-the-flow type of person, or do you need to have things planned meticulously?: I’m a planner, at least for the big picture. I can fudge the details but I gotta have a framework or I go crazy. 36. Is there something you loved so much you wish you could forget it and experience it all over again? (A tv show, book, series–anything.) : I wish I could experience Mass Effect all over again, from the start. I’d still fall in love with my awkward digital alien husband Garrus, I know, but it’d be nice to do it all fresh. 37. What hobbies do you have?: I cook and bake, obviously. I sew, do a bit of cosplay, and I knit. I read anything I can get my hands on, run semi-regularly, and also enjoy writing. 38. If you could have a superpower, but it was only mildly useful, what ability would you want to have?: The ability to find lost things. I’m not even talking Important Stuff like the Ark of the Covenant or Amelia Earhart - I’d just like to reliably know where the eff I put my car keys most days. 39. Something people are always surprised to learn about you: That I can sing so well. My speaking voice is meh and one of the things I like the least about myself, so when I do sing people are always shocked. 40. Something that took you way too long to figure out: That you have to live life for yourself. You can’t go about it deferring to other people’s whims or wishes - and there’s a time and a place to put your foot down and say, enough. There’s a difference between looking out for yourself, and being selfish. 41. Worst injury you’ve had? I’ve lived a pretty charmed life in this department. Maybe the time my little brother broke two of my fingers as a kid, smashing them with a rock. 42. Any morbid fascinations?: Serial killers and true crime stories. It’s awful and I cringe, but I love listening to those sorts of podcasts while I knit. 43. Describe your sense of humor: Dry and sarcastic. I’m the one who’s quiet for an entire conversation, and then comes in at the end with the cutting remark that has everyone both laughing and wondering where the heck I’d been the whole time. 44. If you had to be born in another era/place, which would you choose?: Honestly, as romantic as the past sounds, I know objectively how awful it all was for one reason or another. Whether it’s because health care was a joke, or women were treated horribly...but if I could have a perfect, romanticized version of the past, I’d say maybe 9th or 10th century Scandinavia. I love Vikings and Norse mythology. 45. Something you are irredeemably bad at: Opening beer bottles. I haven’t the foggiest clue why, but I always have to have someone else do it, or else I’ll end up wearing most of it. 46. Something that sucked but you’re glad you went through: My first marriage. It didn’t even suck for any dramatic reason, it was just a bad decision and a mistake for the both of us, a couple of dumb kids - but like all of the best sorts of mistakes I learned an inconceivable amount, about myself and life. And I got a pretty killer son out of it. I’d never trade a sad day of it for anything. 47. Would you rather have a really godawful ugly tattoo in a place that is only slightly inconvenient to conceal with clothing (upper arm, thigh, etc.), or the coolest, most beautiful tattoo ever in the middle of your face? (Neither tattoo can be removed or concealed with makeup, and the ugly tattoo will deeply offend anyone who sees it.): Ugly tattoo all the way, I think. I could always have it modified later maybe? 48. Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist?: I think I’m pretty optimistic actually. Or maybe just realistic. I don’t get flustered or worked up over much, because I definitely tend towards the ‘I’ve done what I can - what happens now will happen and there’s no sense wasting energy worrying over what I personally can’t change.’ 49. What would be the most flattering compliment someone could give you?: Compliment me on something I chose, or thought, or created. Compliments on looks are meaningless, since they’re entirely out of your control. 50. Something you feel people often misunderstand about you: I’m always labeled the quiet one, and some people let that mistakenly translate to apathy or disinterest.

A lot of the people I’d tag were already done, but I’d like to see answers from @deathatintervals @catchthespade @amigoingbananas and @fooljshgirl

#ask meme

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