#first countdown post is always the worst one

[bronzebluemind]

It’s been 0 weeks since the World Cup finale, 17 weeks to go until sgp and 34 weeks to go until next season.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

For your au how do you think Bill deals with adjusting to Fords body and just human things in general? Sickness, aging, etc. Does Stan look after him and help? Do they do any holidays or traditions together? Like Stan and Fords birthday, or is it a one-sided/forgotten thing? You mentioned that Bills memory on things becomes more faded the longer he spends in a human body. Does this or never being able to get out/back to his original form or dieing with it scare him in a way?

Sorry if this is alot at once, but this au been on my mind since I saw that first post of it. It's so intense to me and I absolutely love it!

He’s absolutely terrible at dealing with even the most basic cold, and tends to get rather dramatic about it, because to him, all illness is equal, and he doesn’t really process the fact there’s different severities. Stan still looks after him despite this. Well, the first few years together, he tends to do the bare minimum, but after a while, he starts taking a more active role in sickness care.

He realises that, as dramatic as Bill’s being, he really can’t process the difference between a flu and a common cold well, or, possibly, something much worse, so it’s safer to keep an eye on him during sick periods.

Aging is a different beast though. Bill is generally amused by Ford’s face ‘melting’, but it is also a reminder of the passage of time, and his trapped state. It’s part of why he dyes his hair brown. He’s trying to pretend time isn’t passing, that he hasn’t been trapped in this body that long, and brush aside the growing fears he may not figure a way out. He does take great joy in making fun of Stan though. Out of the two of them, he likes to think that Ford — and therefore he — aged better.

An extra plus side is all the new bodily pains! The downside is that it makes being as hyper and active as he usually is more difficult. Agony is a double-edged sword for him. He is simultaneously fascinated, entertained and terrified!

Birthday-wise, Bill does actually play along with Stan, just a little. Mainly because the first birthday Stan celebrated on his own, he offered Bill a cake, which, Bill pointed out he isn’t actually Stanford, so the gesture is pointless… and then he protested when Stan went to take the cake away. Birthday cake became a yearly thing after that. Bill likes it. Stan gets a day of pretending things are sort of normal, even if it’s not. He won’t ever properly celebrate his birthday with Bill though. It feels like replacing Ford, or giving up on him, and Stan doesn’t plan on doing that. His birthday wish is always to Ford to come back.

Bill doesn’t mind any of that, as long as he gets that cake. He’s a trillion years old. Birthdays always feel pointless to him? Maybe even a little funny. It’s like a countdown to death!

The first birthday they really celebrate all out and commit to is when Dipper and Mabel stay, and they have to fully lean into and play the part of twin brothers.

The only other traditions they have is that Bill tags along on Stan’s yearly vandalism of other tourist traps, something they both get a kick out of it, and Bill looks forward to every year. As well as this, they have a particular tradition that stemmed from a drunken game of truth or dare, where Bill dared Stan to spend New Year’s Eve out in the woods, and Stan dared him to join in. Now they… kind of just go camping most New Years. As you do!

Alright. Now that I’m thinking about it, they probably also make Summerween and Halloween into a who can scare the most kids competition.

Finally: Bill’s memory. Yes, it scares him. He’s used to being this untouchable and powerful force to be reckoned with, being stripped of that gradually is one of the worst experiences of this whole thing to him. The one thing he had for a while was that at least he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then, he starts to forget. His new, human mind unable to keep track of a trillion years of existence. The first time he realises he’s forgetting leads to an outburst that Stan has to calm him down from before he hurts himself.

He prefers not to talk about it.

He is adamant he won’t die in this body. He just won’t. He knows Ford’ll die at ninety-two, so he has around thirty years left, and he’s going to get out within that time. He’s sure of it. He has to. He’s Bill Cipher for Axolotl’s sake — whoever trapped him here can’t keep it that way forever.

(He’s coping)

(Also it’s not a lot at all!! I love answering these sorts of asks a lot!! Ty!!)

[respectthepetty]

We started episode nine of Wandee Goodday with the blinding yellow orb of light surrounded by pink/purple flowers. I'm gonna ignore the Ter part because between this and OMG! Vampire (and Thai BLs in general), I got questions about the lack of severity regarding male sexual assault and harassment, but that's a different post.

The props department has given me a yellow and purple labeled beer with the production name on it - AllThat Beer. Bless you, props department.

Yellow on Yak's side, purple on Dee's side, and they kiss in the blue with the purple countdown, and because I hate this blue, hopefully this is also a countdown to the fake part of their relationship ending soon.

@overrgrownn, already pointed out how they swap colors when they step outside and Yak turns pink, but the mermaid tails are in their colors too in yellow/red and purple/pink. Great had a picture on the set of him in a red wig and the boys have been spotted in other wigs, so maybe we wrote this mermaid plot off to quickly.

GET OUT OF HERE BLUE!

Much better! Much much better!

I knew the building's exterior lights were purple, but I hadn't realized it had yellow accents.

This is the worst montage of my life! I can deal with Yak in black because it's one of his colors, but seeing that brown and blue the entire time Yak is trying to woo Dee is disgusting!

Because even when there is yellow, it is covered up!

Both of them are very aware of their feelings! The colors are right there! SO WHY CAN'T I GET THEM?!

It's because they are faking it even when they don't need too!

And I've done been saying that Yak has tried to copy Ter because that's who Dee liked for eight years, so TAKE THE BROWN OFF YOUR BODY!

Y'all don't want to be to fake blue and brown like Ter trying to figure out his life.

And as cute as the boxing couple are, neither Yak nor Dee are an odd little boxing man or his girlfriend!

SO QUIT THE BIULLSHIT, DEE! I don't know why you feel you must lie about your feelings or your color anymore. I'm pretty sure that shirt is pink, so you're just going to sit there in a pink shirt AND LIE with the blue backing you up?! LIAR!!!!!!

I have a theory about the eleventh episode, and I think this man foreshadows it since Ter took too long to sort out his feelings and lost out, but before I write about it, I appreciate AllThat Entertainment for using the same actors in its shows because I deserve to see this man not surrounded by a harem of boys and being batshit crazy.

But back to Dee because even Kao knows what his true color is with his purple confidential folder.

So get it the fuck together, Dee! You know what your color and feelings are, so quit playing with this blue and these lies.

Because I think the eleventh episode will be Yak giving up. Yak lost his first boxing match because he ran out of energy to continue the fight, and Dee has continued this fight for no good reason. Therefore, I've been thinking that Yak was going to give up and Dee would have to finally step up and prove he loves Yak. Now, I NEED THIS TO HAPPEN!

Because as much as Dee is there for Yak, he is still hiding behind this illusion of a fake relationship.

Yak needs to win that final match, but he is dealing with some mental blockage. (This picture was absolutely necessary because he is wearing blue here)

The yellow comes from his mom.

And probably the pants too which is why they are so important. (Thanks, Dee, for showing up in your color)

So Dee gives Yak peace of mind and fills the voids that were left behind when Yak's mother died. We see the same dynamic between Cher and Yei.

But what will happen if Dee doesn't bring peace when Yak needs it the most? Dee's Nineties shirt had the always important message to "Make Love, Not War," but is he taking that advice?

He is absorbing Yak's color and combining it with his.

Yak is telling him that he loves Dee in every single way possible.

And they continue to switch colors as they kiss on the lips.

But Dee continues to deny his feelings and push Yak away when he feels too much. Next week, Yak is fighting for his family and home in episode ten, so I'm hoping everything else gets resolved, and all we are left with is the championship match and love for the last two episodes. My fingers are crossed that Yak will lose in this battle of love with Dee since Dee must always win (and he will win that scholarship).

Please, GMMTV, force Dee to make a choice because even if he wins everything, he'll still lose something.

Please.

[augustghosts]

Plastic Trees

Tommy Miller x Fem!reader

Ok, I’m sooo nervous to post this lmao. I’ve convinced myself that it sucks. This isn’t everyone's cup of tea so make sure you read the warnings! I did the classic me thing by wanting to get right into the story, so there isn’t much of a backstory here but I have future chapters planned (and may have already started writing them) if anyone is interested. So let me know if you enjoy and want more <3 Thank you for reading!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+! This isn’t proof read so lmk if u spot any dire mistakes. Kidnapping duh, kind of dark!tommy i guess? Or maybe just very ooc. guns and swearing and all that typical tlou stuff. Reader is an adult, obviously. Handjob, slight voyeurism, face fucking.

This is the worst part. Night time, or at least she thought it was night time. The countdown to morning, wondering if they will even come back down. Wondering if this was the night they pack up and leave, leaving her to die alone down here. The basement was always dark, day or night. But these next few hours were the worst, it would get quiet. No footsteps or shouting. Only a few steps every now and then of whoever was up to keep watch while everyone else slept.

She knew who was on watch tonight, it must be Tommy. She knows this now, she's been down here long enough to know their patterns. She knows it’s Tommy because every hour or so the footsteps sound above her and a shadow appears at the basement door. It lingers for a while and then retreats. She wonders what he thinks, is he toying with her? Is he just trying to listen? See what she’s doing? Or, does his hand linger over the door knob, does he ever think about coming down? Does he ever think about letting her out?

She’s convinced that he does. Or maybe she’s convinced herself that to make herself feel better, either way - Tommy is different. He has softer eyes than his brother. He asks her if she’s okay, despite her answer always being something along the lines of go fuck yourself. Tommy is the only one who actually told her his name. His brother Joel, she only knows after hearing Tommy say it. All of this - Tommy looking at her sweetly and sneaking her extra food is what led to this. She's crouched at the bottom of the stairs. Tommy’s silhouette is lingering by the door. A few seconds and he retreats. His footsteps echo above her, getting quieter as he reaches the other side of the house. Her heart is hammering in her chest, her blood rushing as she steps up onto the first stair. The wood creaks under her, the same way it does when one of them walks down them. She cringes - she listens. When she hears nothing above her, she takes a chance and steps up onto the next one.

She knows the door isn’t locked. The world was years into an apocalypse, this house is run down. The closest thing they had to a lock was making her believe there was someone on the other side 24/7. And usually, there was. Until night, she guesses they think she's asleep - so they would wander around the house. They go stand by the front door instead, keeping watch.

As she ascends the steps, Tommy is above her. Leaning against the dirty kitchen counter. His gun on the old marble in front of him. Easy job, my ass, he thinks. The day he stops listening to Joel is the day he will know peace. Kidnapping someone, locking them in a basement and waiting to hand her off to a group of fuckers who are planning to do god knows what. This is not an easy job. As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind blows over the house and it creaks. The shitty windows sound awful as the rain pounds against it. Fuck this. He wants to go home. He straightens up and swings his gun back in over his shoulder, planning to do another lap of the house as boredom takes over him.

He freezes as he hears a familiar squeak. It’s not the house this time, it’s those damn noisy basement stairs. He walks slowly, quietly - and peeks around the corner down the hallway. The door is closed. He peeks round into what used to be the living room of this house, Joel and the rest of their group are asleep on the floor and on various old couches. He’s still frozen in place, listening. Another creak echoes from the hallway. He creeps closer, obviously more stealthy than the person on the stairs. Another creak as they reach the top stair, he knows the sound is more hollow than the rest of the stairs. He dips into another room as the basement door handle begins to turn slowly. Her hesitation is obvious, the door is opened slowly - she’s slow, not wanting it to make too much of a noise.

She looks out into the hallway, holy shit - it’s empty. She can see the front door from where she’s standing. She knows the lounge is on the left, and she knows they’re all in there. She can hear the rain and wind up here too. Shit, she’s wearing a shitty pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The same thing she had been wearing since they snatched her up. She opens the door wider and takes a step out, the house is silent. Where the fuck did Tommy go? She takes a few more quiet steps, excitement building inside of her. Excitement to feel the rain and wind on her skin. Excitement to go home.

Her pathetic excitement turns to pure fear and adrenaline as she hears the familiar click of a shotgun beside her. As she passes a dark room on the right of her, a cold metal barrel is pressed to the side of her head. Her hands instinctively rise up, surrender.

“Turn around.” Tommy’s familiar voice - he’s quiet, trying not to wake the others. Her hand flexes at her side, contemplating grabbing the gun. What would she do with it? She has no fucking clue. But she’s so close to the front door.

“Don’t.” He says. “Just turn around.”

“Please, Tommy.” She tries. Her voice was shaking. He almost felt bad. She turned to look at him, face to face with the gun aimed at her head.

“Please what?” He’s still whispering. His voice was deeper than usual when he did.

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, right. Turn around.” He scoffs. Stepping out into the hallway and blocking her way. He’s much taller than her, his height is intimidating as he towers over her, crowding her back down into the basement. She takes a few steps back as he takes a few forward.

“The door is right there. You- you could let me go.” She tries to bargain as he continues to walk forwards, forcing her to walk back into the doorway.

“Oh yeah? And then what? I’m supposed to be on watch, so you escaping is my fault. Then you die out there and we don’t get paid.”

“Please i-“ She starts again, resorting back to pleading with him. She’s so worked up she forgets about the steps. Tommy stops her before she can fall backwards, his large hands reaching around her waist. He’s in charge now, he’s standing in the doorway holding her above the stairs. Blocking her exit, and if he lets go of her - she falls. She’s looking up at him, her eyes big and tearful. Fear evident on her face. Her hands are tightly gripping the front of his jacket, trying to steady herself.

“What now princess?” He says, his voice rumbles.

“Hm?” He prompts as she doesn’t reply. She’s honestly at a loss for words. She’s not sure if it’s because this is not what she planned, or wether is being so close to him like this.

“Are you gonna be good?” He asks. She hates the way her stomach stirs. She wants nothing more than to push him away. “Are you gonna go back down? You don’t have many options.”

She continues to stare at him, weighing her options. She looks at the door behind him and he smirks, an idea popping into his head. He pretends to let her go, one of his arms dropping away from her and slapping over her mouth when she almost screams - thinking he’s about to let her fall down the stairs.

He hauls her up and presses her against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth- the other one gripping her hip tightly. Her hands are still twisted into his jacket, her knuckles turning white. She’s crying now, sobbing behind his hand. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

“I’m going to ask you again.” He whispers. “Are you gonna be a good girl and go back downstairs?”

Her eyes are wide, tears hitting his hand as they fall. She nods slowly, trying to ignore the heat growing between her legs. God, she wishes she had met him in a different situation. He was so beautiful. His dark eyes bore into hers before they flickered downwards. He watches her chest heaving, he feels her eyes on his face and he knows she can feel him. His body is pressed against hers, trapping her against the wall, so he knows she can feel his cock hardening against her.

He lets go of her mouth, bringing his hand down to her throat instead. He leans in, his lips inches from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips but she doesn’t dare move. Fuck, she can’t deny that she wants him to kiss her. Would he let her go if she fucked him? She decides to take her chances. She slowly unwraps her hands from the collar of his jackets. She presses her palms against his chest, for a second he thinks she’s going to try to push him away and he prepares himself to grab her wrists. But his breathing hitches as her hands travel down his stomach and pause at the hem of his shirt.

She looks up at him with the most innocent look she can muster, she searches his eyes for any anger or resistance. He’s doing the same to her, his eyes urging her to carry on. She feels his stomach flex as she slowly lets her hands travel underneath the fabric. How long has it been since someone has touched him? It’s been a while since someone has touched her - just his hand around her neck right now is setting her on fucking fire.

His hand tightens around her throat as she unbuckles his belts and dips her hand into his jeans. Feeling him over his underwear first. Stroking him with a feather light touch. He leans in to press his mouth to her jaw, a quiet moan leaves her lips and she swears she can feel his cock twitch.

“Get on with it.” He mumbles against her skin. Trying to resist biting down into her flesh, not wanting the other guys to see any marks. The other guys - who are only around the corner. If any of them were to wake up and look over here they would see them. Fuck, that turned her on. She hates it.

She reaches into his underwear and grips him tightly. “You're not gonna be gentle with me baby?” He hisses beside her ear, she can hear the smirk in his voice, she feels his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“What do you want me to do?” She whispers, her hand begins to move, jerking him off slowly. He smells like leather and sweat, she whimpers as her clothed tits press against his chest. His nipples are hard and aching.

“Fuck.” He moans into her ear. His hand flexes on her throat before he shocks her by letting go and straightening up. “Get on your knees.”

“Okay.” She mumbles, slowly kneeling down on the dirty floor. The floorboard creaks underneath her and they both freeze for a second. His hands stop in the middle of pushing his jeans down. They both look down the hallway and listen for a second. When they hear nothing- the house is still silent, he continues. Pulling his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out.

Tommy almost feels guilty as she kneels down in front of him. Almost. His cock is so fucking hard and aching that he can’t help himself. He reaches for the back of her head, guiding her mouth towards his length. He can’t help but think about how fucking jealous Joel would be. He’d expressed his attraction to her when they had picked her up, joking about keeping her the group they were waiting for never came.

He almost explodes as she takes his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his slit. Fuck, it really had been a while. But honestly, they didn’t have time for this. Anyone could wake up at any second and all he wanted was to come down her throat. He grasps her hair at the back of her head and pushes her head down until he feels her gag around him. And she lets him. Fuck, she was perfect.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck.” He mumbles through gritted teeth. As she works up a rhythm, sucking him off as best as she can when his hand is still on the back of her head. Applying pressure to stop her from pulling completely away. Tommy is biting his fist to keep himself quiet, his other hand has a painful grip on her hair. He keeps glancing down the hallway, eventually deciding she isn’t being quick enough.

“You’re mouth is amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers as he grasps both sides of her face. He lets her pull away for a second - she knows what he’s about to do. “But, we gotta hurry up.”

He’s already close. His dick hasn’t had anything but his own hand for a long time and the sight of her allowing him to fuck her face has his balls clenching. She has her palms on his thighs, letting him hold her head and thrust in and out of her mouth at his own pace. And his own pace is a rough one. She’s still crying, but now it’s the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat that’s producing the tears. Him using her mouth to get off, she swears she’s never been this turned on in her life.

It’s so fucking wrong. This is one of the men who has had her locked in a basement purely for his own gain for the past couple of weeks. But as she looks up at him, his face flushed, his teeth biting down on his lip as he roughly fucks her face in a disgusting basement - she can’t help but hope he keeps her for himself. She thinks about running away with him. She thinks about him taking her away from all this, ditching his brother and their money and taking her out into the world. She thinks about how he looks pointing his gun at her, how he would look pointing it at someone else to protect her.

She moans around him at the thought, her hand coming down and pressing between her own legs - her jeans stopping her from getting herself off. Her hand eventually goes to her breast instead. Between the sight of her desperately trying to touch herself and the way she moaned around his cock, Tommy is done for. He pauses, forcing her as far down his cock as she can go as he comes down her throat. She feels every drop as it hits the back of her mouth. He pulls his cock out of her mouth but is quick to bring his fingers to her chin, forcing her mouth shut.

“Swallow it.” He says. She does as she’s told. He lets go of her chin when he feels her swallow. She practically collapses backwards, sitting in front of him and breathing heavily. He tucks himself back into his jeans before he crouches down in front of her.

“Shhh. You did good, baby.” He whispers. He caresses her cheek. She looks beautiful like this. She swears she can see the change in his face, his eyes soften and he stands up and holds out his hands. She looks from his palms to his face a few times before it clicks, oh. She takes his hands and lets him help her up. The feeling of him holding her hands making her knees feel like buckling again.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you go.” He says, his grip tightening on her hands.

“I figured.” She nods,her voice slightly hoarse. But suddenly, she feels like she doesn’t want to go. She pulls her hands from his and turns to walk down the stairs. He stops her before he can descend them with a hand on her shoulder. He backs her up against the wall again and she gasps as he slips his hand into her jeans.

“Shit, did sucking me off get you this wet?” He asks, he’s only tracing her pussy through her panties but he can feel the wet spot she’d created. He can feel the heat radiating off of her and he swears he could get hard again.

“I asked you a question.” He says when she whimpers in response.

“Y-yes.” She moans lightly as he traces her clit through the fabric.

“You want me to touch you?”

She bites back a snarky comment of you already are and just nods instead.

“Please, Tommy. Please touch me.” She asks him sweetly.

“Since you were so good for me, i guess you deserve it.” He says. He leans in closer to her face, god - he wants to kiss her. He knows it’s a bad idea but when she leans up to meet him halfway he can’t help himself. Their lips are practically touching, softly brushing against each other - a moan leaving her mouth as he presses harder on her clit, beginning to move his finger in slow, tight circles.

As he’s about to commit and push his tongue into her mouth, some fucker moves in the other room. The sound of shuffling and someone standing to their feet has him ripping his hand out from between her legs. She’s frozen in place for a second, disappointed and shocked. Tommy is picking his gun back up and whispering Go to her and it jumps her into action. She scurries down the stairs as fast as she can, not missing the way he sucks the finger that had been touching her into his mouth.

“You good, Tommy?” A male voice calls down the hall.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” The other man looks at him standing in the basement doorway and then looks into the darkness of the basement behind him.

“Everything okay with her?” The man asks.

“Yeah.” Tommy answers. “I thought I heard her moving around. But everythings fine. She’s asleep.”

The man nods and asks: “You wanna switch?”

Tommy nods and hands his gun over. He needs a fucking nap after that. He needed to think. He watches as the man approaches the basement door. A weird protectiveness washing over him. Shit, this isn’t good. He can’t afford to have a soft spot for her. He snaps out of it and takes the man's place on the couch. The couch is dusty and creaks underneath him and he sighs. He thinks about how the people who had hired them to collect here were supposed to be arriving tomorrow.

Below him in the basement, she’s thinking about it too. As she lays down to sleep, she hopes that Tommy will save her - hopes that he won’t let it happen. That he will sweep her off of her feet and carry her away. Hours later, she’s still hoping. A few minutes ago she had been awoken by yelling and gunshots. She’d been curled up in the corner ever since. Waiting, listening. The basement door swings open and she squeezes her eyes shut as loud footsteps tumble down towards her. Honestly, maybe this was a better end than whatever the people who had hired her to be captured had in mind.

“Hey! It’s me.” Her eyes shoot open, Tommy is standing above her looking even more disheveled than he did last night. He’s breathing heavily - his words rushed.

“What’s happening?” She asks. Tommy looks back up the stairs before extending his gloved hand to her.

“Get up. We need to go. Right fucking now.”

[gorogues]

Each of the Rogues being taken individually, what's the most common way that they're written badly (in terms of personality)? E.g., when they're written out of character, what does that most frequently look like?

James: I'm torn on James because his two main OOC screw-ups thankfully didn't happen often and they're diametrically opposed to each other. But when writers have messed him up, they did so big time: the dimwitted homophobic jerk in Countdown, and the cruel Machiavellian mastermind in "The Greatest Trick Of All". The latter wasn't a mistake, it was a specific creative choice, but IMO it was a poor one which damaged his character.

Lisa: I think Lisa's problem was again a deliberate creative one, but I'm not fond of the post-Crisis decision to make her ker-AZY! for the sake of comedy. Yes she'd always been somewhat unstable and violent, but it got dialed up for laughs and not really dealt with by those who knew her. It would have been less frustrating if the people close to her had noted and been concerned about a decline in her mental health, because that's actually story development. Instead she became violent comic relief and ultimately kind of Flanderized.

Len: In the modern era (circa 2000 and beyond), I think the worst characterization done to him is when the writer makes him stupid or thoughtless, because he most assuredly is not. We all have our dopey moments, but stuff like him marching down the street in costume complaining about the heroes being fascists is just weird and very unlike him, as is the entirety of his appearances in Flash: The Fastest Man Alive and Countdown. At least Johns salvaged the latter stories by making it part of his development (he realized he'd made a foolish mistake that cost the Rogues dearly, and reacted accordingly), but it never should have happened in the first place.

Digger: This one's tough, because he did a complete 180 in terms of personality after Crisis, and considering that I don't know if you can say he's really been out of character. I know there are some people out there who are unhappy about that change, and it's a valid complaint I'm sympathetic to, but IMO he became a much more interesting and more dynamic character once Ostrander revamped him and I can't really be mad about it. However, there's no denying that he really did become a different person…whether that's good or bad is likely personal preference. I will say that I really disliked DC ridiculing him and making him seem pathetic around the time of Identity Crisis so he could be killed and replaced, and wish they hadn't done that.

Mick: A full-on violent lunatic who revels in killing and hurting others. We saw it occasionally before the New 52, but the reboot turned it up to 11.

Roscoe: There are a few stories which make me a bit cranky, but IMO the only one that's done poorly is the presidential story. I like the general plot idea, but Waid had a poor understanding of Roscoe's character/personality and it sets my teeth on edge because it didn't seem the writer liked or cared about him much and it showed. From "the least of the Rogues" to the weirdness about him being from Brooklyn(??), to him being self-deprecating(??) about his intelligence and education(??) and his tops(??). The story would have been very good if Waid had characterized him properly, but botched it.

Hartley: For the most part, I believe he's stayed mostly in-character. He's appeared in some bad stories for sure, but I'd say the times he was truly poorly written were when the writer forgot or didn't know/care that he's suppposed to be reformed and heroic -- Flash: The Fastest Man Alive and Flash #775 come to mind. At least both were salvaged afterwards.

Axel: That Helmet of Fate: Detective Chimp one-shot. That's the only time I've ever felt he was written out of character, though his personality has evolved over the years as he matures. Axel can be a vicious jerk on occasion, but casually murdering a bunch of college kids just for their stuff is IMO beyond him at his worst.

Sam: He's a weird one because he died before most characters started getting properly developed, so he never had any truly standout OOC stories (he did come across as a whiny dork when visiting Gotham with Digger, though). Then he was brought back in the New 52 and became something of a cipher, and I personally didn't start finding him interesting again until he left the Flash book and started appearing elsewhere. I don't think I could choose something for him aside from maybe that Gotham story, and that was pretty minor.

Mark/Marco: The times I can think of him being notably out of character were in that same rough era that plagued a bunch of Rogues: Flash The Fastest Man Alive, Countdown, and Salvation Run. It was just a bad period for all of them, and he came off like a thoughtless idiot in those stories. That isn't necessarily out of character for him because he was sometimes portrayed as kinda thick before Johns, but it's clear that Johns intended for him to be relatively intelligent and cultured so it does seem jarring in that era.

Evan: When he loses the moral compass he had since the beginning, and doesn't care who he hurts or kills. He was quite firmly against killing women and children….but that hasn't been the case for the past ~25 years.

Albert: The whole modern Hannibal Lecter routine, in which we saw a decent man who struggled with his darker impulses become a sociopathic bookworm without real development or explanation. It made him a lot scarier, but at the expense of his existing personality.

Owen: Leaving aside the weird revamp he got post-Flashpoint, I found he was most often mischaracterized by making him really stupid and incompetent. A fair number of his appearances in the Outsiders series were like this (which is why I don't love the series), and of course Blackest Night: Flash #3.

Roy: This is cheating, because the only time I've truly felt he was written out of character was just a cameo; he appeared and died within a page. It was his death scene in Flash v2 #183, but in that issue he seemed like a common thug with no resemblance to him aside from the joke about art and colour blindness. It was poorly done.

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

((I wanted to post something for the "Encanto April Fool's Day" theme day that @hectic-hector was putting on, since I never participated in one of these before, so I hope you enjoy!))

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Encanto. The Madrigal triplets were sound asleep, planning on sleeping in, or so Julieta and Pepa thought all three triplets were asleep. Bruno barged into Pepa’s room, startling her and causing her to thunder.

“PEPA! Don’t you know what time it is!?” Bruno asked.

“No; I don’t. I was asleep and was planning on staying asleep,” Pepa replied.

“It’s seven-thirty! The bus is going to be here in fifteen minutes!”

“The bus!?”

“We’re going to be late for school!”

Pepa looked at her clock to notice it said seven thirty. She sprang up from her bed to get dressed, brush her hair and teeth, and ran downstairs for breakfast, only to realize Julieta was not there. Pepa looked around the kitchen, confused, seeing that breakfast was not ready either. That was weird; Julieta was always the first one up every day to make breakfast for everyone.

“Bruno? Where’s Julieta? Why isn’t she here with breakfast?” Bruno made an attempt to hold in a laugh. “What’s going on Bruno? Why are you smiling?”

“Don’t you remember what day it is?”

“What?”

Bruno began to burst with laughter. “It’s Saturday! I just made you get ready for nothing!” 

Pepa began to thunder harder as Bruno continued to laugh at his sister’s misfortune. Pepa surged forward to grab Bruno, but before she could begin to beat the shit out of him, Bruno grabbed onto Pepa’s wrists until she stopped thundering.

“Wait! You know Julieta’s still asleep, right?”

“Yeah, and��”

“And so we can pull the same thing with Julieta! We’re both dressed for school, so let’s make Julieta think we’re going to be late!”

Pepa slightly smirked as her cloud disappeared. “Bruno, you’re the worst person I’ve ever come across, but you’re also the best.”

The sibling pair ran upstairs to Julieta’s door, only to hear that she was still sound asleep. While her snoring was not nearly as loud as Pepa’s, it could still be heard from outside her room. The sibling duo tiptoed their way into her room to see Julieta sleeping like a rock on her bed.

“She’s going to be super pissed when she realizes this is all a prank,” Pepa whispered as she and Bruno moved closer to Julieta’s bed.

“I know, but that will make this funnier,” Bruno whispered back.

Pepa giggled again as she and Bruno walked closer to Julieta. Bruno gave Pepa the countdown to wake her up.

“JULIETA! Wake up! We’re going to be late for school!” Bruno yelled.

Julieta startled from her slumber to see her siblings standing by her bed “Huh? What? What time is it?”

“It’s seven forty-five! We just missed the bus and we’re going to be late!” Pepa lied.

Julieta checked her clock to see it said it was seven forty-five. She jumped out of her bed and began to wash up and get dressed for school as quickly as she could. Pepa and Bruno just watched and laughed as she rushed around Casita just to get dressed. They made their way downstairs by the front door as Julieta ran to the door with three breakfast bars and handed one to each of her siblings. 

“I obviously didn’t have time to make anything, but this should hold us over until lunchtime and if we run we should get to school by eight.”

Pepa and Bruno burst into laughter to see their sister rushing around like it was an actual school day. Julieta stopped as she was about to open the door to see her siblings laughing, giving them her confused look.

“Can either of you tell me what’s going on?”

“Don’t you remember what day it is!?” Bruno laughed.

“It’s Saturday! I can’t believe you fell for that!” Pepa added.

Julieta’s confused look slowly turned angry as Pepa and Bruno continued laughing and she ran to the kitchen to get the rolling pin. The pair made their way to the kitchen to see their sister about to grab the rolling pin from the drawer, only to stop her once she raised the pin at the pair.

“WAIT! I understand you’re angry, hermana, but you can get your revenge whenever you want to,” Bruno explained.

“And you don’t have to tell us when it’s coming,” Pepa added.

Julieta slowly put the rolling pin down and back in the drawer. “Actually, I have a better idea. Can you guys come with me to my booth today?”

“Sure; but for what?” Bruno asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way when we get a little bit more rest. You both can sleep in my room until mama wakes us up,” Julieta answered as she, Pepa, and Bruno made their way back upstairs.

The triplets set up Julieta’s booth after lunch and Pepa and Bruno made their way to a nearby tree. Julieta did her thing as normal after she put the basket of arepas on her table and a line started to form at her booth. Pepa and Bruno climbed on the tree to see the villagers that would make their way to Julieta’s booth. It was only a matter of time until they would see Agustin making his way to the line with Felix right next to him.

Bruno put his arm on Pepa’s shoulder to see when Agustin and Felix would get closer to Julieta. Pepa swatted Bruno’s hand away from her shoulder so she did not get distracted by Bruno’s hand on her.

“I just want to see when Agustin and Felix are next in line!” Bruno said as he swatted Pepa in the arm.

“Well you’re not the star of this prank, now are you!?” Pepa replied as she swatted back at her brother.

“Estas loca! You really have to make this about you like always!”

“How am I trying to make this about myself!? I’m the one that’s going to fall first!”

“I’m just as much part of this as you are!”

The siblings continued to bicker and swat at each other until the branch of the tree broke and they both fell and hit their knees on the ground. Julieta heard a thud when Felix and Agustin made it to the front of the line. Felix was the first to run to the tree to see if Pepa was okay. Julieta was close behind and Agustin behind her. Felix sat next to Pepa as Julieta noticed Bruno and Pepa both scraped their knees. That was not part of the plan at all.

“Are you okay!? What just happened? Were you watching us in that tree?” Felix asked as Julieta handed her siblings each one arepa.

“We’re okay; gracias, Felix. We were trying to pull a prank and it kind of… backfired,” Pepa replied as she and Bruno took a bite into their arepas.

“We were supposed to make you think we fell from the tree and got hurt from it, but it looks like we actually did get hurt,” Bruno added.

“Maybe we should have thought this out better before lunch. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt in this process,” Julieta said.

Agustin walked to the triplets and Felix to show them the arepa he was given shortly before Pepa and Felix fell. “Hey, Julieta, why is this arepa filled with sour cream?” he asked as he gagged consistently.

Julieta snorted lightly. “Okay, I did plan another prank while I was making the arepas that I didn’t tell you about.”

Pepa, Bruno, and Felix followed with laughter as Agustin spit out the remains of the sour cream arepa and let out a giggle. “You got me there, Juli.”

The five continued laughing under the tree until Julieta realized she had a whole line of villagers waiting for her to heal them and she made her way back to her booth. The five spent the rest of the day talking with each other as Julieta continued healing the village. They could not help but talk about new harmless pranks to pull on other friends from school next week.

[clay-cuttlefish]

Okay I've had a bit to recover from the 52 Emotions. Moving through Final Crisis, 70 appearances left to go til Flashpoint.

Justice League of America 2006 #1

Not actually an appearance, but someone impersonates Vic in a flirty note to Vixen and it's very funny to me that a) he's a known pain in the ass among Leaguers and b) she's down for it.

Countdown #40-38

Renee's here! It's not great, she's only here for a couple pages, but she and Kate are kicking ass together, she's funny, she looks good, and Kate calls her Question for the first time.

Crime Bible: Five Lessons of Blood #1

After all this time, Renee gets a solo of her own, and it's SO good.

She's so cool! Relentless, inquisitive, always in motion... it's not that she wasn't great in 52, she was, but she really flourishes when she's in her own space.

#2

😳

I have thoughts about how much Renee's grown but um. Women.

#3

Renee finally gets to reflect on her time at the GCPD, which is interesting. She still has some respect for Maggie and Gordon, but Bullock is dead to her.

Divorce! This is a really good divorce moment. Back in 52, she pushed Kate away for the exact same reasons - old habits die hard.

#4

Tot continues to be my fave despite not doing much. He's perpetually hanging out and begrudgingly helping.

"We're not friends." Two pages later handing her a hat he made in case she gets cold.

Myra...

The newscast says Myra was "elected for a third consecutive term last fall", which I think means she's been mayor for nine years unless some American mayoral terms last different lengths? I'd have guessed it had been longer, but it's not an unreasonably short timeline.

I'm so glad Renee goes back to Hub City. The Question isn't a mantle that carries a lot of recognition, but it does have a history beyond what it meant to Vic and Tot, and I'm glad there's this closure.

Izzy's more Gordon-y than the last time we saw him, but hey it's been almost a decade and it's good for the parallels.

#5

It's important to me that she's funny. She's learned how to go with the flow and take things in stride, and that means saying dumb shit even when she's actively in danger.

This fight is drawn so well. The dialogue wouldn't land nearly as well if it wasn't for the pacing.

This all works so well to flesh out who Renee was, who she is now, and where she might be going.

The Montoya Journal

Not a comic, but some supplementary pieces, because the secret code in the scriptures was too subtle and the way to get people to notice it was to send out secret journals with props. Pictures of the contents are included with commentary in the back of the trade.

Here's a link to some archived posts about the contents, if you don't have a copy, including a link to the song.

The fake band has a MySpace page and an actual song you can listen to. There are designs for in-universe newspapers and messaging apps. The physical journals came with bullet casings. The commitment here is ridiculous.

Only sixteen journals were ever made and I want one so badly.

Final Crisis #1

More events. I'm getting sick of events.

Something something Darkseid. I don't know what's going on with most of these characters and I don't really care.

#3

Getting arrested by... I think these guys are like Checkmate?

Final Crisis: Revelations #1

This is the part of Final Crisis that's relevant to Renee.

Crispus has been having the worst time since we last saw him.

#2

What if your dead best friend turned into the personification of God's wrath and tried to murder you about it after you'd spent years dealing with your Catholic guilt over being a lesbian. Would that be fucked up or what.

#3

The DC universe has some truly wild theological problems.

Is this blasphemous? Should I like. Put some kind of content warning on this?

I don't know if this is that good but it's very dramatic.

#4

Renee kicks Cain in the face.

The Radiant talks theology and the problem of free will and prophecy.

It's a Lot.

#5

Renee hits the combined might of Darkseid and Vandal Savage with a "I know you are but what am I?" and it works so well it allows her to restore Crispus' faith in God. I love comics.

Final Crisis #3-7

I've decided I don't actually care enough to do these individually. Renee gets recruited by Checkmate because she's so good at both cop stuff and superhero stuff that she should lead the charge into another universe. Cool? Good for her?

Captain Marvel tells her not to swear and she says no.

Wow that sure was a Crisis. Anyways.

[sylvarantii]

I feel bad making this post several days after watching it, but it's been so hectic lately, so I think I just wanted to wait until things settled down and I wasn't so hyperfocused on other things.

It would've been nice to have reviewed this while it's still fresh in my mind, but I think I can remember at least the more important parts.

So, Detective Conan Movie 7: Crossroad in the Ancient Capital

I felt like this was more of a Heiji movie due to Conan/Shinichi taking more of a backseat in this one, but mind you, that is not a bad thing at all.

I usually kind of don't know how to feel about Heiji episodes in the series, truthfully. It's sort of a 50/50. I usually end up liking them, but sometimes I don't really care. That said, I do like not only how Heiji and Conan/Shinichi play off of one another, but Ran and Kazuha's friendship really makes me feel all warm inside.

In this movie's case, I really liked the role Heiji played. I think one of the advantages with having Heiji is that he has his motorcycle, so you get the chase scenes like you get in this movie (Albeit, it's a little disappointing that some parts are notably 3D animated and are a bit obvious about it, but it's far from the worst I've seen).

Also the last part of the movie was just amazing. I really appreciate it when the movies go in a sort of actiony type direction because it feels bigger scaled compared to a normal episode of the series.

This is also the first appearance of Inspector Ayanokoji or as some may know him better as the detective that always has a chipmunk on him when he arrives on cases. (The chipmunk's name is Maro, by the way and he is so freaking adorable! I love him!)

I don't really have much to say about Ayanokoji, but he at least seems more competent than some inspectors so that's nice.

Overall, the movie kept a pretty good pace and I don't think I have many complaints about it other than it was really disappointing that Ran's part was so small. But you know, considering Kazuha is Heiji's main support character, it makes sense she wouldn't be in it much since him and Ran don't interact much on a one on one sort of basis.

So with all of that said, I do think this one will end up ranking pretty well. It was an enjoyable watch and it was something that kept my attention through out most of the movie.

1.) The Fourteenth Target (2nd Movie)

2.) The Time Bombed Skyscraper (1st Movie)

3.) Captured in Her Eyes (4th Movie)

4.) Crossroad in the Ancient Capital (7th Movie)

5.) The Phantom of Baker Street (6th Movie)

6.) Countdown to Heaven (5th Movie)

7.) The Wizard of the Last Century (3rd Movie)

Still thought Captured in Her Eyes was better, but Crossroad's did better than the previous two, at least. Still waiting to see if anything can beat The Fourteenth Target in first place or the Wizard of the Last Century in last place.

[gris-nv]

Thanksgiving 2023

I don’t really celebrate thanksgiving but as I’ve said in previous years, I like the idea of making some kind of summary about the things we’re thankful for during the year, so here it goes:

In the first months of this year I started to look for a new job, since I left my previous one in favor of my mental health (see previous post), so one day surfing through Facebook, believe it or not, I found the vacancy of my current job and I applied, after one interview and a very long security check I got it! So I’m thankful for my new job that feels kind of being a secret agent because I cannot say where I work lol, so if you know you know, and I’m also thankful because, unlike my previous job, the least stressing part of my life right now is my job.

Also I’m thankful for all the people I asked to be my references, they didn’t even asked, they just did it, they vouched for me so this job is something we all got peeps! Thank you!

About the same time I was starting my new job, my mom was going through some serious health issues, there were some moments in which I feared the worst you peeps, so much so that I remember I prayed to the universe and I said “I’m not ready yet to be without my mom so please give us more time”, not that I think we’re ever ready, but you get the point. Also I realized that I had taken by myself and for myself the whole responsibility of taking care of my mom, the house, the animals, managing my dads and my own stress, my new job, etc., I didn’t want to worry my siblings since both have their own families and one of them was out of the country for work, so I took upon myself all the burden, no one asked me to, I just did. Well, I was on the brink of breaking down when I called my sister and she told me “this is not just your responsibility you know? We’re a family” since then I learned to ask for help and rely on my family, so I’m thankful for being so fortunate that my family works like a Wolfpack, we all are always for each other.

Just as my mom was getting better, I had a work trip coming up, my first time in Florida ya’ll (sorry my English accent, even when writing, is a weird combination between Mexico obviously, California, Kansas (ugh) and New England). Luckily I could go with all the confidence that my mom was doing much better and my sister was here taking care of everything along with my dad and some neighbors that were always willing to help. So I’m thankful for the support network and thankful for the opportunity of a work trip for training when I don’t even have a year working there yet.

Of course I countdown pass the opportunity, since I was already in the east coast, to visit my second family, just a quick flight up north and I was able to relax and spend some time with amazing friends, the universe knows I needed it, so everything aligned to make it possible, I’m thankful for having an extension of my family, people that love me and accept me for who I am and people that trust me to respond in an emergency, even if it means driving and unfamiliar car, in unfamiliar roads by night. Let me confess that even though I kept a poker face I was freaking out internally because all of what I mentioned but most importantly because my soul sister was in pain and I couldn’t do anything about it. I’m also thankful for the trust of watching the cub in a stressful situation for all. I’m a firm believer that our responsibility as adults is to shield the kids from our own stress and uncertainty, of course being honest all the time but hell I was going to watch that kid and protect him from everything and making sure to manage his stress as best as I could. All good in the end, thank Thor. Also I’m thankful for the opportunity to get to know new places and getting to know my friends better every time.

Last but certainly not least, I’m thankful because my mom is recovering, she’s almost the same person she has always been, she’s completely different compared to some months ago, finally we can all relax and enjoy the last months of the year.

I’m thankful of having two families that always ask for each other and we all know we’re here for each other no matter the distance and the language barrier, we’re all just one big pack covering a hell of a lot of territory.

Happy thanksgiving to all, and do try to make the exercise of thinking what are you thankful for.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 67

Metamorphosis/Daleks In Manhattan

“Metamorphosis”

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I would legitimately never be in this situation, so sure

ooooooo now we get to find out all the things Sam’s been up to…and so does Dean…

This is only slightly more awkward and strained than the McElroys’ “don’t do a hit” PSA. Maybe both of these are signs to separate business and family

This show’s so fucking weird. They spent the first three seasons either ignoring the existence of a god or just flat out not believing in one, but now…NOW god does not want Sam to be doing what he’s doing

Whatever is happening to this man is really difficult to take while I’m eating lunch and having the sound pumped directly into my ears. It’s like bones cracking or even breaking. Eugh

I forgot Dean didn’t know Sam knew about the demon blood……it’s getting FAR more awkward than “don’t do a hit.”

Ew. Dude, is that RAW MEAT??? I hate watching this on my lunch. It’s always the WORST episodes…

They really use the most thinly veiled metaphors to parallel whatever conflict is going on between Sam and Dean, like, one sheet of saran wrap thin

I miss the days when they’d pull off to the side of the road to have nice little heart to hearts not yelling “I’VE GOT DEMON BLOOD IN ME, DEAN!!”

How long after hearing the phrase “long pig” did Dean start to come up with alternatives like “manburger helper”?

It’s not funny to have two men in their mid to late twenties carrying makeshift flame throwers break down your door, but hearing “we’re here to save you…I guess” and “we should leave” “yeah” almost immediately after kinda is. It’s only funny because the audience knows Sam and Dean

Aw, fuck. The other hunter’s gotten involved now…noooo, is this guy’s wife pregnant??? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…

It’s the gross, wet sounds of this dude LITERALLY feasting on this hunter for me…can’t blame the wife for running away screaming after watching that

The boys showing up 15 minutes late with Starbucks…ooooo, a floor fit for a children’s hospital (how many times will this show give me the opportunity to use that joke??)

Well, that COULD have been a nice moment for Dean to reassure Sam if Jack hadn't attacked.

I’ll have to find it (maybe) but I once read a post about how Sam’s storyline in these first seasons especially tells a very queer coded story, and this episode really really hits you in the face with it. Like, yes, bi Dean and whatever…but there IS something to the heartache that Sam feels being othered to his own family by this thing he had no control over. This wasn’t his choice. It’s really resonant when Sam makes the decision to stop using his psychic powers because they made Dean uncomfy...Dean who has used "god doesn't want you doing this" but also only very recently started MAYBE believing there's a god? Sam think Dean believes he's a freak and less than human or at least other than human, sometimes saying that he's getting closer and closer to the things they hunt instead. I just...I see it.

“Been On My Mind…”: I think I’m gonna do a countdown…if in 10 episodes’ time I haven’t had a yes? I’m discontinuing this segment

"Daleks In Manhattan"

Lazlo should watch Supernatural. Then he wouldn't have gone investigating that weird noise and not gotten turned into a strange pig hybrid

I have a terrible feeling this is one of those two part episodes based solely on the fact that I'm struggling to say anything about this one. The Doctor and Martha are in 1930 NYC, and we're getting a lot of character introductions: the people and specifically the leader of Hooverville, the workers at the Empire State Building, the theater workers (performers and backstage), but nothing's really HAPPENING yet. Though, we're about to get our first glimpse of the Daleks, so that's something at least

There are so many times I'm glad I accidentally fucked up the scheduling and missed an episode of spn because having to hear the term "long pig" all during my lunch and now having these human/pig hybrids has mad that incredibly worth it, and there have been so many other small things that have lined up

Awww baby Andrew Garfield. He's precious, lookin' out for Martha

Somehow I think this foreman trying to get the Empire State Building built for the Daleks is gonna get either killed or turned into something at least close to a Dalek...either way, it's not what he thinks he's gonna get

Nooo, poor baby Andrew Garfield.

oh. that's equal parts terrifying and terrible...the guy who was getting "rewarded" by the Daleks just got...absorbed?? by one? And the CGI!!! Simply atrocious (affectionate)!!!

The showgirl did NOT sign up for all this...well, she's signing up for it NOW, I guess

I can't take this seriously...this is one of the weirdest story lines they've done and......the costuming...again, atrocious (affectionate) The guy who got combined with a Dalek? it looks so bad...

[sluttery-withoutshame]

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

1. Who is your favorite member?

Eric Singer.

2. Who is your least favorite member?

Mark St John, don’t really know a whole lot about him, but he seemed a bit dodgy.

3. Best album?

I have an old compilation album that was only released in Australia and it’s trashed as hell, but I recently found out it’s a rarity and feel so lucky to have it now! It runs from the first album to the Unmasked singles, so a lotta good stuff on there!

BUT if I have to choose a studio album, Unmasked just edges out Dynasty. They were my formative Kiss years.

4. Worst album?

Why you do this to me? I’ll go with Lick It Up. It was the point I jumped off the bandwagon. The title song seemed way below their capabilities. (Sorry @elrohare!)

5. Favorite song?

How do you even begin to answer this? I can’t split them other than act like two eras needed their own favourite.

Older era: I Was Made For Loving You.

More recent: Psycho Circus.

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Gene- From what I’ve heard, very generous and caring to his fans.

Paul- Flamboyance personified!

Peter- Sang some super cool songs.

Ace- Ugh, someone put a leash on me. Sex personified. Best laugh in the history of mankind. I’m in love with his lead vocals. Best solo album of the four 1978 set. Hilarious.

Eric C- Awesome drummer, cute fox, seemed super sweet.

Eric S- Weird little mystery, HA HA. I’m just staring at the screen wondering where to start. If you’re reading this, you obviously see my posts. My entire blog is my answer. A very different pussy.

Bruce- Seems super lovely. Loves his fans.

Tommy- Sweet. Holds himself respectfully in the face of straight up hostility. Loyal.

Mark St. John- Fleeting member. Was a bridge between two longer standing guitarist, enabling the band to keep playing.

Vinnie- I was a big fan of the Ankh Warrior makeup and I’m sorry he didn’t get to wear it for longer.

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Egotistical, disrespectful to his wife and other women, and he drools on stage which makes me feel ill to the point I have to turn away.

Paul- Egotistical, money hungry, unforgiving.

Peter- Spiteful. Disrespectful to fans for disallowing Beth to be played in the final concert replay.

Ace- He was a difficult addict.

Eric C- The only thing I can say to this is that he died. Not his fault, but I greatly dislike that cancer robbed him from his life and ours. I can’t say a bad thing actually about him.

Eric S- This is a trick question right? Maybe I dislike that he turned my life upside down. But is that a bad thing? I dislike that our paths have never crossed. I dislike that I never got a candle (and fire safety instructions) from him.

Bruce- I’m jealous that he gets to hang out with Eric and I don’t.

Tommy- He never really developed his own personality on stage. I always felt like he hung back, leaving people to just wish Ace was still there. Almost impossible platform boots to fill, but it’s like it was too hard so he didn’t even try. Eric made the cat persona his own, separate from Peter, but Tommy never accomplished that.

Mark St. John- Seemed a bit dodgy. Bit of a sad end, but he also put himself into the situation that ended his life.

Vinnie- I honestly don’t know that much about him, so I’ll say he currently looks weirdly like Yoko Ono in the 80s.

8. How did you get into KISS?

I’m old, so it was just before the Kissteria Unmasked 1980 tour hit. A truly amazing time. The catalyst was seeing them play I Was Made For Loving You on my favourite music show, Countdown. Then almost straight after that, Unmasked was released It was all like a Kiss collision of stars forming a supernova. My cousins in the big city (I grew up on a farm where no record stores existed) had Dynasty and Unmasked and when we visited we’d play them on repeat.

10. Have you been to a concert?

Believe it or not, only one! I kinda regret that, but I grew up on a farm where concerts where as accessible as if they were playing on the moon, then I was very broke for a very long time, and then when I did get money, I was busy chasing other bands around the world. But had I taken more notice of the existence of Eric Singer, I probably would’ve taken a detour or two to add him to my concert schedule. But I did see them, and at least I had that experience. (In case you’re wondering, I had Star Child makeup. Again, had I known what a little ball of craziness that pussy was, I would have chosen cat makeup.)

11. Do you have any merch?

Yes! Just tshirts, but I have on order one of those Golden Tickets and I hope it actually comes! My sister way back in the day had a Peter Criss doll. All my cousins were hanging it on her because Peter was out of the band by then, Eric C had just joined. probably why he was the only doll they had left on the shelf! She didn't care, she just wanted a husband for her Barbies. Of course he got thoroughly wrecked and most likely ended up in the tip, but I've always wondered what that would be worth now.

12. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

When they played the prematch at the AFL grand final, they did a bunch of staged photos, one of which had them holding up the premiership cup. Later that afternoon my team miraculously won the game. Then the football club did a tour with the cup, and I got to touch it and have photos with it. So Kiss and I have touched the same trophy!

13. Who is/are your favorite lineup(s)?

It’s probably blasphemy to not say the original four, but damn I’d love to have seen Paul/Gene/Ace/Eric S. But if I did, I’d probably be dead.

14. What's your favorite era?

It will come as no surprise that it's Dynasty/Unmasked. It was an exciting time here in Australia. Shandi was no.1 here when they landed and from then on they would play Shandi at their concerts just for us. They didn’t play that anywhere else on a regular basis. Right up to the final concert!

15. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

Fineapple and Snack Cake! I feel like Tommy cops more shit for not being Ace than Eric does for not being Peter. As for my opinion on Eric…have we met? Are you new to my blog? If so, you’re in for a ride!

16. A question you would ask the band if you could?

I’d ask Eric if he would please never wear a hat again and why his Animal tattoo never looked like Animal. I’d love to ask him how it is that he fell through the cracks and seemingly has never had a long term relationship. Because that blows my mind. But I’d never have the guts to do that!

17. What other bands/artists are you into?

Good lord, I hardly know where to start. There’d be a bunch of Australian bands you’ve probably never heard of, like Midnight Oil and Radio Birdman. I followed the Oils all around Australia more than once! I was BIG into Cheap Trick, traveled the world and Australia to see them play before gate keeping fans destroyed my life and lead to a suicide attempt. I still see them when they come here, but it does give me some PTSD. They’re coming to Australia next month and I’m taking my daughter to her first concert. The Stones, mostly 1970 onwards. Huge Cyndi Lauper fan, Adam Ant, Ramones, Queen, Sixx:AM, Stooges, MC5, the entire NY punk scene of the 70s. There’d be a bunch I’m forgetting. I’m into TONS of bands and singers.

18. Do you have a KISSona?

I’m too flexible.

19. Who are some of your favorite blogs?

@bunchofrandomfandomsandbands (thanks for the tag!), @elrohare, @speckster, @2000-man1, @ladyshandioftheendless, @notpaulsguitar, @namelessbutters-doodles, @ladyrosesblog, @angelbambisworld, @starry-eyed-never-satisfied, @sinsiriuslyemo.

I hate questions like this because I know I’m probably forgetting some, but it’s never because I don’t appreciate you, it’s because my memory is Swiss cheese.

20. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Eric Singer! Please make this happen!!

21. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

Classic rock band, iconic for their character makeup and pyrotechnics, hugely influential, entertaining as fuck, genre hopping, and has great fans on tumblr!

(This took me a ridiculous amount of time to complete.)

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

1. Who is your favorite member?

Eric Singer

2. Who is your least favorite member?

Vinnie Vincent

3. Best album?

Destroyer

4. Worst album?

Animalize

5. Favorite song?

There are too many good ones

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Gene- Super charming

Paul- Super charming

Peter- Super Sweet

Ace- Super Sweet

Eric C- Super funny

Eric S- Super nice

Bruce- Super funny

Tommy- Hot

Mark St. John- Super nice

Vinnie- Super nice

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Egotistical

Paul- Egotistical

Peter- Hateful

Ace- Spiteful

Eric C- Negative

Eric S- Negative

Bruce- Truthful

Tommy- Awkward

Mark St. John- Dumb

Vinnie- Idiot

8. How did you get into KISS?

Scooby-Doo And Kiss: Rock and Roll Mystery

9. Have you been to a concert?

I have been to nine. Fort Wayne on August 12, 2016, London on July 11, 2019, Tampa on October 9, 2021, KISS Kruise IX & X Sail Away, the indoor concerts, Indiana on November 25, 2023, and the KISS 2020 Goodbye show.

10. Do you have any merch?

Not nearly enough

11. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

I have a really long tongue like Gene Simmons. I was onstage with him in Anderson Indiana, but Gene kicked me off the stage for upstaging him

12. Who is/are your favorite lineup(s)?

Gene, Paul, Eric C, & Bruce

Gene, Paul, Eric, & Bruce

Gene, Paul, Eric, & Tommy

13. What's your favorite era?

Revenge Era

14. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

Love them. They are a lot better than Peter and Ace (in my opinion)

15. A question you would ask the band if you could?

What was the idea behind the song “Take It Off”

16. What other bands/artists are you into?

Alice Cooper, Ghost, The Beatles, Elvis, Black n Blue, Union, ESP, Mötley Crüe, Liliac,

17. Do you have a KISSona?

The Catman

18. Who are some of your favorite blogs?

@2000-man1, @comets-nix, @tanookikiss, @sluttery-withoutshame, @catmansdrumsticks, @daddycatcriss, @eric-carr-the-fox, @ericsinger

19. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Eric Singer

20. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

KISS is an iconic rock band known for their elaborate stage makeup, flashy costumes, and energetic performances. Formed in the 1970s, they're recognized for hits like "Rock and Roll All Nite." Their unique personas, like Gene Simmons' Demon and Paul Stanley's Starchild, contribute to their larger-than-life image, making them a significant influence on the glam metal genre.

[miniimapp]

Random Tae Young Headcanons

Gen ;; Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; None that I can think of

Proofread + Edited ;; Yes and yes, for once lmao

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 3 OF THE 4*TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !!

if i thought i was having a rough day yesterday.. it doesn't even hold a candle to today but i think pushing myself to write on days like these is what challenges like this are all about !!

Enjoy !! <3

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Tae is the type of guy to take pictures of everything

He gets mugs of everyone

Posts the worst ones of each member on their birthday on his public story on all platforms

Like,, it gets to the point that some of the members refuse look at his story on their birthday because they don't want to look at themselves

Of course it's all in good fun and Tae always checks if they're good with him posting

Still doesn't prepare the others though

Jesse constantly claims to still be traumatised by the pictures Tae posted of him when the band was first gaining traction

Boy did that ruin his swoony image lmao

Only for a little while though

But Tae also takes food pics

You know those people that always take pictures of their food ??

Usually they look like pinterest pics, all aesthetic but not Tae's

Poor baby just wants to take aesthetic food pics but they all come back looking like pics of an inedible mess

And half of them are Jesse's cooking so it's definitely not inedible

And Jesse plates his food like a gourmet chef so Tae really can't blame anyone or anything but his terrible photography skills

But they do come in handy for mugs of his friends so it evens itself out

Tae also loves insects (almost as much as animals) but he is terrified of worms

Don't ask him why he will go on for at least half an hour about why worms shouldn't exist despite their many benefits for the eco-system

Just create a new creature that has those benefits and let Tae live his life

#wormsareoverparty was indeed trending after this info became public

Tae was delighted by the revolution he'd started

Surely if animal lover and friend to all creatures big and small Tae Young doesn't like worms then no one else should either ??

Listen,, y'all thought some kpop stans and one directioners were scary ?? you haven't met a 4*townie trying to get worms cancelled on twitter yet..

Tae only relented on the worm hate when it was pointed out to him that worms are are a main source of food for many birds..

He knew this already, obviously, but it slipped his mind due to worm hatred

Remembering this only made him love birds more

When Tae was younger he got music lessons from a sweet older lady who lived next door to him

He's classically trained in violin, he tried playing piano for a little bit but couldn't find the motivation to keep it up so he dropped the instrument entirely

He could probably play you a piece if you gave him some sheet music and like,, 20 minutes ?? maybe ??

If you ever hear any violin in 4town songs (and you definitely will if Tae releases and solo work) it's Tae playing it

Sometimes he plays a little solo on stage

It's like a little treat for the audience

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Hope you enjoyed !! <3

[deartouya]

— CURRENT WIPS

this is a list of i'm currently working on. i have,, more ideas,, but these are the one being written or outlined currently. i write when i have the chance and can only promise one fic a month, even if i post more throughout any given month. any fic on this list can be changed, edited, or scraped altogether. these will be,, very spaced out and not posted in the order listed so please be patient. please ask me about any that interest you !! i love talking about them :3

ANNOUNCEMENT

i am on a temporary writing hiatus to focus on my event and settle back into school, so i will be slow on posting and completing wips.

updated: november 8, 2022

LONG FICS (over 3k)

permanence; bakugou katsuki x reader (exes to lovers)

projected word count: 7-9k current status: nearly fully outlined and in the process of being written summary: after earning a year-long mission abroad, you and katsuki break up. there's no animosity, it's for the best and it's easy to ignore him while he's gone. it's only after he gets back that the affection bubbles up. and it's only after a massive villain attack that they break through.

crawl home to her; dabi x reader (corpse bride au)

projected word count: 3-5k current status: nearly fully outlined and partially written summary: following the untimely death of your fiance, your parents arrange for you to marry the next in line. except he's not... dead. even if he's also not quite. right.

with the tides; todoroki shouto x reader (selkie au)

projected word count: 8-10k current status: outlining summary: there's been something... different about the sea, some innate feeling, something tugging at you. it's only after a routine rescue, cutting a seal caught by a reckless fisherman's net, that that strangeness materializes. you just hadn't expected that something to materialize into a... someone.

untitled; hawks x reader (soulmate au)

projected word count: 7-9k current status: outlining summary: after your coffee shop is ruined by a villain attack nearby, you come face to face with the number one hero: winged hero hawks; who, frankly, thinks you're incredibly interesting. after your first meeting, he returns throughout the weeks under the guise of coffee and croissants. he's always loved the idea of soulmates, of someone destined to love him and he hopes you're it for him. he finds his answer after your shop suffers another attack.

eyes so green; midoriya izuku x reader (soulmate au)

projected word count: 6-8k current status: outlining summary: izuku has always loved the idea of soulmates, keeping track of the countdown on his wrist. but as he gets older and the weight of heroism presses closer, he forgets. so when he finally meets you, it's like everything has clicked into place. if only you shared his enthusiasm.

i like you a latte; kaminari denki x reader (coffee shop au)

projected word count: 3-5k current status: outlining summary: denki’s determined to make you fall in love with him, cheesy one-liners and all, even if he goes into debt from all the overpriced lattes and pastries in the process. little does he know he’s already one you over, you just like watching him fumble.

untitled; dabi x reader (grievances to lovers)

projected word count: 8-10k current status: not started, trying to outline summary: you've never gotten along with touya, he makes sure of it. but he always seems to be around, always there to prod his way under your skin. when you're paired with the (now rehabilitated) villain on a mission, you learn that he's not.. the worst person in the world. even if you'd rather die that tell him that.

untitled; hawks x reader (tangled au)

projected word count: 12-14k current status: not started, consuming my every thought summary: ever the opportunist, you take your unfortunate run in with the infamous hawks and twist it to your advantage. despite everything, he's your best shot at finding what you're looking for. even if it means you spend half your time hiding from the kings guard.

the horror and the wild; dabi x reader (mermaid au)

projected word count: 3k current status: almost fully outlined and partially written summary: dabi continues getting himself captured by your crew and you’re running out of excuses for why he’s suddenly escaped. he does, begrudgingly, come in handy.

what the water gave me; bakugou katsuki x reader (mermaid au)

projected word count: 6-7k current status: not started, partially outlined summary: you’re a surfer and finds an injured mermaid, taking it upon yourself to nurture them back to health.

out of the rolling ocean; todoroki shouto x reader (little mermaid au)

projected word count: 12-14k current status: not started summary: after you’re ship sinks returning home, you’re saved by a mysterious person. one you’re determined to find and marry them. the problem is figuring out who they are.

circumstance demands it; todoroki shouto x reader (royalty au)

projected word count: 6-7k current status: not started summary: facing his fathers and countries demands for wed, shouto finds a solution in you- a nobleman’s daughter and friend who can help him fend off the social season.

SHORT FICS (under 3k)

mighty paw; midoriya izuku x reader (zookeeper au)

summary: a little meetcute between you, a primary teacher, and izuku, the zookeeper you interact with on your classes field trip. your students notice how much izuku seems to like you and makes it their mission for the day to get you together.

lost & found; bakugou katsuki x reader (zookeeper au)

during your tour, guided by an incredibly annoyed zookeeper, you both stumble across a lost child which forces you to work together to find their parents. and maybe bakugou gets a little a lot less annoyed with you.

wine & dine; dabi x reader (zookeeper au)

as the field trip comes to an end and you’re preparing to leave, it begins to rain, forcing you and the keeper in charge of the reptile house to huddle together under a small roof until it passes.

out of the rain; hawks x reader (bath fic)

hawks hates the rain, it’s uncomfortable and annoying, but he still always takes care of you. he still uses his wing as a makeshift umbrella when you’re out,despite the way it matts his down and fluffs his feathers. it’s only fair to return the care, the tenderness.

(planned) hit and run; kuroo tetsurou x reader (college au)

a meet cute; you see a cute guy exiting the campus cafe and decide the best way to start a conversation is to run into him.

love in the clouds; hawks x reader (date drabble)

fluffy flight date with your pro-hero boyfriend

cold cold man; dabi x reader (song fic)

clingy villain boyfriend is clingy. refuses to accept work as a valid excuse and shows up on your fire escape so you can hold him.

susie save your love (for someone like me); momo x reader (song fic)

for kai’s the only truth is music collab; song fic based on susie save your love by allie x

love me as i am; bakugou katsuki x reader (bath fic)

the world has always been cruel to katsuki, rough and expecting. it weighs heavy on his shoulders–makes him hard to love, but you’ve never seem to care. you take him for what he is. when work has him ragged, you’re always there to take care of him–soft and tender and loving.

tenderness; bakugou katsuki x reader (sick fic)

you get sick before date night and katsuki spends the night looking after you.

[hiscleric]

happy #BylerWeek2022 day 3!! i said i wasn’t going to post anything because of the oneshot im working on, but i took an hour or so to whip up this little drabble really quick!!

byler week day 3 prompt: death

tw // death, mentions of unusual eating habits 

Death was a funny thing. This Will Byers had come to know. 

Some would say the worse way to die would be a sharp stab, lodged tight in the little sliver between your ribs, blade pressing deep, so close yet so far from your heart; a heavy blow, maybe, on the back of the neck or to the side of the head; some say fire, standing helpless as open flame eats at your flesh till it meets singed bone, nowhere to run, your only out being the irreversible letting go. 

Sure, these were all bad. Horrible, even. But to Will? 

The worst way to die was slow. 

Watching the world move forward while your body moves backward was nearly indescribable. Time passed, yeah, but days turned into months at rapid speed after you become aware of the countdown – families begin to grow and shrink as one loss becomes ten gains, seasons change quicker than you remembered from before, your garden flowers bud and bloom as your nodes begin to fail.

The world doesn’t stop for anyone – even the dying. 

The first sign, honestly, was the dwindled appetite. Since returning, he could only stomach so much, could only handle the smallest of portions with as little grace as possible; a week amongst the rot, scavenging for spoiled cans and out of date cereal boxes just to keep his eyes open, left a funny taste in his mouth. Each bite rested on his tongue like lead. Every swallow went down like glass, tainted with a flavor only he could describe. 

The second sign was fatigue. The nausea rose within him each morning, never to fall till late at night, each step heavy with a weight he had never seemed to shake. This came in waves, of course, as most things do, but he’d rather call them tsunamis, filling his lungs and clogging his veins till he couldn’t breathe. Everything was amplified now. Always ten times worse than it could be from the start. 

The third sign? The nail in his own inevitable coffin?

The melancholy. 

When he found himself struggling to see the light in even the brightest times, that is when he knew. Will knew the first time a paint stroke felt like a chore that he was dying. Will knew the first groan at the idea of a new campaign that he was dying. 

Will knew that when he, the one he had loved for so much of his now short life, couldn’t muster even a smile from him that he was dying. He was already gone, though. His body just hadn’t followed yet. 

The day came in the least likely way he had expected. He wasn’t sure how to predict the event of your own death, but here, in the Upside Down with Mike Wheeler trailing not far behind, was not what he had expected. 

Had the air always been this hard to breathe? He glanced back toward Mike, cloudy eyes zeroing in on the rise and fall of his chest; labored, sure, each inhale as strenuous as the next exhale, but he wasn’t heaving. 

“Will?”

He moved forward. Each step had Will resting a clammy palm upon the corroded trees, every breath ripping through him like it was going to be his last. Maybe it would be. With the way his heart was thrumming in slow, strained beats, that likelihood only grew.  

“Will?” Again. His voice was muffled, maybe from the bandana wrapped over his nose to the back of his head, or maybe his hearing was finally going. “Will, are you okay?” 

“Yes,” Hoarse, each rub of his vocal cords like little knives scratching into the skin of his throat, “keep going. We have… only a little left to go…”

The Upside Down was stuck on that day. November 6th, 1983. It should still be there. 

The closer they got, the closer he came. From the corner of his eye, far past Mike trudging along in his peripheral, he saw him. Looming. Waiting with baited breath and grinning at each strained step, cloak dark and teeth sharp, cruel eyes glinting with the shine of his scythe. He tossed it between his hands, likely wondering which palm would have the honor of striking the final blow. 

God, Will had been waiting for him. Always glimpses, he was quite familiar with the figure; the first appearance being here, in this hellscape, hiding from a monster connected to so much more. When shivering on the bed of Castle Byers, Will swore he saw him, watched as he ran a bony finger across the slats between the logs like a prisoner waiting for release. Like something was holding him back. 

He had seen him that Halloween, too. In the hospital. Wandering the corridors, peering through the window of the door to his room to take in the sight of Will losing all sense of self – the figure had smiled, tapped three fingers against the glass, and vanished with the shine of Sam Owens’ light. 

And now, here he was, following close in their path with Castle Byers in sight. The structure was so close, yet as his steps grew slow and short, the distance appeared to multiply by ten. 

“Almost there…” Mike had said. A hand pressed into his lower back, an attempt to push him those last few steps forward. 

No. Mike was still a few steps behind; the hand belonged to someone else, the pressure growing until Will felt his legs give out beneath him–

The only thing heard beside the incessant ringing in his ears was Mike’s hurried breaths, tripping over himself and a couple roots to make his way over, his hands flailing with what Will presumed to be fear. A chill ran through him, likely the damp soil he was now resting upon; his eyes moved from Mike to instead glance up, the fog clearing to only reveal rotted trees and a blue and red sky. 

“Will… Will, stay with me…” 

He would if he could. If he could, he’d get back up and drag Mike himself into the still standing Castle Byers, sit him down and tell him everything he had been holding back for so long, but alas, incapability had won this round. He had won this round. Will wondered where he was hiding, whether it be behind a tree or right over Mike’s shoulder, but he could still feel him nonetheless. His presence was clear. 

Will had lost for the last time. But with the way Mike cradled his head, rested him so gently in his lap with the crinkle of his brows and tears pricking in eyes Will would remember far into the afterlife, he didn’t really feel like he had lost. 

“Will…” Mike’s voice was hoarse now. Rough, yet still soft in the way that made his failing heart attempt to pick up speed. “Will, no, no, no… it’s okay, right? You’re okay. You’ll be okay.”

“It’s okay, Mike.” Even in the face of death, even after the melancholy had drained him of any sense of the person he used to be, Mike still coaxed a smile out of him. He did this time, the tears falling down his face that Will still saw as beautiful even in the most macabre way, lips shaking as hands he had dreamed of holding cupped his face. “It’ll be okay.” 

If this, Mike’s hands and Mike’s tears and Mike’s words, was going to be the last thing to anchor him to the mortal plane, that wouldn’t be so bad. 

“I… I love–”

“It’s okay,” He mumbled again. Will met his eyes, gave him a look that said so much more than he could, a look that held the weight of the love Will had been carrying for him for so long. “It’s okay, Mike.”

It was okay.

Death was a funny thing. But dying, in Mike Wheeler’s arms, in the place that had both ruined his life and everything within it, in front of the still standing fort that had hidden him from so much yet protected him from so little, dying was different. 

Dying was okay. Everything with Mike Wheeler was okay. 

[amjustagirl]

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her. 

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance 

Wordcount: 7.8k 

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics. 

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!). 

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time. 

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out. 

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter. 

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball. 

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party. 

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.   

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back. 

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air. 

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory. 

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head. 

Why on earth did he agree to this again? 

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’ 

His glare softens by a fraction. 

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting. 

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here. 

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down. 

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’ 

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’ 

‘Hm.’ 

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’ 

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews)  when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey. 

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively. 

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender. 

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’ 

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’ 

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree - 

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek. 

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest. 

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness. 

Then he takes a breath. 

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end . 

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands. 

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn. 

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts. 

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders. 

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even  worse . 

Much, much worse. 

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand. 

He ends up face planting directly into her chest. 

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – , 

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.  

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt. 

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.  

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed. 

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.  

He takes her hand with a rare smile. 

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband. 

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees. 

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough. 

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product. 

He appreciates that. 

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal. 

He likes that. 

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify. 

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.  

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules. 

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer. 

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls. 

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently. 

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings. 

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.   

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together. 

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes.  He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so  I  know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’ 

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ 

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb. 

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks. 

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’  on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread  the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way. 

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod. 

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other. 

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north. 

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself. 

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant. 

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course. 

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night. 

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’ 

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands. 

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence. 

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’ 

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify. 

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’ 

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘ 

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle. 

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind. 

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’. 

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze. 

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before. 

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze. 

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant. 

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways. 

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day. 

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on. 

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially. 

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’ 

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.  

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time. 

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands. 

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.  

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss. 

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her. 

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain. 

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars. 

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’ 

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up. 

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer. 

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air. 

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands. 

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look. 

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either. 

He finds himself wondering about them. 

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text. 

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?  

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two? 

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion. 

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’. 

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.  

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him? 

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers. 

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card. 

Oikawa Tooru . 

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’ 

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further. 

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’ 

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer. 

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’   

He blinks. That was unexpected. 

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ 

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance. 

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt. 

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb. 

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’. 

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’ 

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined. 

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache. 

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’. 

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘ 

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance. 

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause. 

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.  

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her. 

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground. 

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales. 

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’. 

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.    

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because  you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him. 

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips. 

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips. 

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no  – it’s always going to point towards her. 

They move in together after that. 

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards. 

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.  

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife. 

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.  

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while. 

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep. 

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much. 

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh  - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.  

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’ 

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold. 

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning. 

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob. 

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly. 

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other. 

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell. 

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’ 

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes. 

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way. 

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back. 

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’. 

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them. 

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.  

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in - 

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their  genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place. 

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open. 

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’. 

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.  

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal. 

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat. 

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath. 

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.   

He waits. 

Then his phone buzzes. 

Ah. 

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back  home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.  

“Omi?” 

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first. 

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind. 

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.  

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what  I  want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’. 

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.  

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’ 

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles. 

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.  

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date. 

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again. 

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two. 

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.  

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more. 

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party. 

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association. 

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread. 

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name. 

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make. 

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’. 

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake. 

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out -  pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead. 

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability. 

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’ 

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.   

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud. 

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.  

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser. 

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist: 

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius​ (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Hero's Countdown | PJM (One)

Summary: Soulmates: The one you are bound to. In this world, you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, everything. Once day you feel the most excruciating amount of pain only to find out your soulmate has died. What happens when the God’s of Time offer to turn back time so you can make things right and save your soulmates life?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: soulmates au, Gods au, fluff, smut, angst, crack

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: swearing, suicide, mentions of sex, oc is kinda a bitch

Notes: And the first chapter is finally here! Sorry it took so long!! I don’t know why I have been so nervous to post this…but It’s going to be a fun journey! Send an ask if you want to be added to a taglist or if you just want to chat:) (Remember this is all fictitious)

Taglist: @mawwnsterr @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June 21

Pain. Excruciating pain. You feel it in your chest first, then the intense feeling travels from your beating heart to the tips of your fingers. You choke on air trying to compose yourself, but the pain is so unbelievably powerful that you struggle to catch your breath. Something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Your hand goes to your chest, you pull at your shirt as you try to breathe and then suddenly it stops. Just like that. Something happened. Something happened to him.

~

Soulmates: Two people with the soul connection who feel they are linked on a soul level in a significant or extraordinary way. In this world that means the person you are bound to. When you meet you feel an incredibly intense pull of instant recognition and intense attraction followed by intense emotions. And you feel everything they feel. Their joy, their pain, just everything if it’s considered intense. Physically and emotionally. And that doesn’t stop until you officially “connect” with your partner. What does that even mean? Connect? Does that mean fucking? That sounds like it means fucking. It probably means fucking. You don’t believe in all this bullshit though. The universes predestined bullshit can kiss. Your. Ass.

You’ve learned the hard way that even destined soulmates can’t always make it work…and leaving it up to fate leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. So you ignore fate. You do the very opposite of what fate wants. Fate is strong though and very hard to ignore. It pulls you in the direction of your soulmate constantly—quite literally. Whenever you get the urge, like urge to do something—like out of nowhere get the idea to visit the new bookstore down the block…even though you don’t care for reading. Yeah, that’s a sign that fate is trying to work its magic but you resist that god damn urge and do your own thing. And that’s just one example.

Feeling all your soulmates feelings wouldn’t be so horrible if the man you are destined to be with wasn’t so god damn emotional. Fucking Park Jimin. Yes, you’re well aware who your soulmate is…how else do you know how to avoid him so perfectly? As much as you can at least…considering… But he doesn’t seek you out either—thankfully. But you know he wants to. You can quite literally feel it…his yearning is so powerful it makes you nauseas. But he agreed to stay away. So now you live your life however you please! You have an amazing job that you love, a fantastic group of friends and a hot man you sex up on the regular. Things are good!

The only thing that isn’t good is that you still haven’t bought Isabelle a gift for her birthday party tonight. You’re walking on the sidewalk back to work from getting a coffee on this breezy Monday afternoon when you are hit with realization that you are the worst best friend ever. She always goes above and beyond for your birthday but you can’t even think of a decent gift for her! You listen to the click clack of your heels hitting the pavement as your mind wanders…what could you possibly get her that she doesn’t already have?

You feel your phone buzzing and speak of the devil.

“Hello?” You bring the phone to your ear and your coffee to your lips.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite Julio to my birthday event? Because I just got a text from him asking if he needs to bring anything.” You hear your frazzled best friend on the other line.

“He’s my date tonight.” You say nonchalantly. “Come on, when you guys drink together you…kind of…get along.” You shrug even though she can’t see you.

“Good lord, y/n. You know I can’t stand him. I know he’s got “that good dick” but couldn’t we have went one night without him.” she whines into the phone and you chuckle.

“I’ll make sure he behaves.” You promise. “Now tell me,” you stop at a cross walk and wait for the little person to light up. “What the hell do you want for your birthday?”

“…classic y/n.” Isabelle sighs out, “Just do what you did last year and buy me yet another scarf for my collection.”

“Okay I’ve only bought you like three scarves.” You defend with a pout.

“Four actually, but okay.”

“I’ll just figure it out. See you tonight boo.”

“Fine, see you tonight.” And then you’re bringing the phone down and clicking the end button. Isabelle and Julio (your fuck buddy) don’t necessarily get along. They’re both too similar, you think. But neither will admit that. You’ve been seeing Julio for a few months now, it’s nothing serious of course. He has yet to meet his soulmate and you’re just totally against soulmates. So it makes for good sex.

You walk up to your building and take a deep breath, time to get back to work. You love your job, you really do. But you constantly put your job before your sanity. Because—

“Oh hey.”

Him. You felt him before you even saw him…that’s how strong the pull is. Fate is a funny thing. It brought you to this job, and it brought you to him. But instead of purposely choosing another path and avoiding him like the plague you chose to endure. Because you fucking love this job.

You write scripts for video games and it’s the most fulfilling thing in your life right now…yes even more fulfilling than Julio’s dick. But seeing him 5 days of the week and feeling how he yearns for you is really fucking your head up.

“I said don’t talk to me, remember?” you say with a tight smile. “Seeing you is hard enough.”

Jimin’s eyes soften as he looks at you and he offers an apologetic smile.

“Goodbye, y/n.” and he’s walking past you as he decides to take the stairs while your lazy ass waits for the elevator.

Pain. You feel his pain. And you wince at the overwhelming feeling. But you have to endure and move forward!

“Afternoon y/n.” Your boss comes up to you as you both wait for the elevator. “You got that new script ready for me?”

“Yes sir, I’ll bring it up to your desk before I leave work today.” You offer him one of your sweeter smiles and he brightens.

“Great!” he chuckles wholeheartedly and pats your back, then he’s walking forward once the elevator arrives.

You sigh out in relief that he didn’t question you further…because in truth, that script is not ready and you’re about to have to work your ass off for the rest of the day.

~~~~~

It’s pretty chilly for being an evening in the summer but hey, you won’t complain. It’s better than the blistering heat from a few days ago. You have the address on your phone for the restaurant you’re meeting Isabelle at for her birthday bash. The streets are busy as usual since the city never rests. You walk towards a group of people when you suddenly are hit with an intense feeling of…despair? God, it hurts. But it’s over just as quickly as it started. You compose yourself and continue walking…a few worried looks from strangers but you brush it off.

“She’s finally here!” Isabelle slurs out, “My best fucking friend bitches!”

“Oh my god who let her get drunk before dinner?” you ask, scratching the top of your head as Isabelle rushes to hug you.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.” She drunkenly giggles. “Hurry, hurry.” She ushers you to take a seat and you do. You plop down in the spot next to her, setting your birthday bag down on the ground.

“Another scarf?” she teases, pointing at the bag.

“And if it is?”

“Then I’ll love it you predictable bitch.”

“Hey gorgeous.” You feel a pair of lips kissing your cheek and you know just who they belong to.

“Hi.” You breathe out, “just getting here?” you ask and Julio nods his head yes.

“I didn’t want to get here way earlier than you…I wouldn’t have a friend to hang out with.” He playfully pouts, “But you’re here now.”

“Yes, now you have a friend.” You wink.

You’re about to speak again when another wave of pain hits you. You throw a hand over your racing heart and breathe out heavily.

“Hey, you okay?” Julio rubs your back, “y/n?”

And then it disappears as quickly as it came…

“Yeah, yeah.” You gasp out, “Jeez, wow.” You whisper. “I’m fine.”

Julio gives you a look of concern before he’s nodding his head slowly and turning his body to grab a drink.

“If you say so.” He mumbles.

You try to shake off these strange feelings, and try to have a good time. Isabelle is throwing back drink after drink and after dinner you join her. You begin to loosen up, the alcohol working its drunken magic on you. Isabelle is dancing on a table as the restaurants staff tries their best to get her down, you just watch and laugh like a maniac.

Everything is going good, really good…until pain.

Pain. Excruciating pain. You feel it in your chest first, then the intense feeling travels from your beating heart to the tips of your fingers. You choke on air trying to compose yourself, but the pain is so unbelievably powerful that you struggle to catch your breath. Something’s wrong. Something is terribly wrong. Your hand goes to your chest, you pull at your shirt as you try to breathe and then suddenly it stops. Just like that. This wave felt like death itself. Something happened. Something happened to him.

“y/n? y/n?” You hear Julio call out for you desperately as you try to even out your breathing.

“Hey, you okay?” his voice sounds so distant, like he’s getting further and further away from you. “Get out of my way!” You now hear Isabelle’s voice, she’s pushing through the crowd that surrounds you. “I said, get out of my way!”

Then finally she’s at your side, you are heaving, you are struggling to breath. You feel your cheeks wet from the tears that managed to escape your eyes unknowingly.

What the fuck happened? What’s happening?

Finally, after several minutes of gasping for air, you manage to relax.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Isabelle looks at you with worried eyes, her hand on your back as you straighten yourself.

“Isabelle…I think something happened.”

“What?”

“It’s Jimin, I can feel it.”

Isabelle’s eyes widen and she nods her head in understanding. “Let’s get you home.”

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” you slam your phone down on your coffee table and sigh out in frustration. You have called Jimin maybe 10 times now but it just keeps going to voicemail. What the hell happened? Is he okay? This feels wrong, you feel wrong. You feel empty for some reason like someone stole your life away, like they sucked it right out of your body. You feel weak. You are barely able to move from the coffee table from how fucking weak you are.

You decide to call it a night, you will just confront Jimin at work tomorrow and ask what the hell happened. You drag your weak, weak body to your bed and try your hardest to fall asleep. But all you can think about is Jimin, he’s taking over your mind. Like, you can’t control it. You see images of him and images of his life, maybe you are just imagining it? But you’re sure these are images of his life…is that something soulmates can do? You toss and turn for hours, until finally you see the sky turn a dark blue and eventually the sun is rising.

You decide to just say fuck it, and get up. You’ll get to work early today. You have so much trouble getting ready, you feel ill. Like, a demon sucked you dry of your energy. But you endure because you really need to see Jimin today.

You grab a coffee on the way to work when you feel yourself being pulled into the direction of your office—Jimin must be there. You walk a little faster and when you finally reach the building you notice something is off. There’s groups of people gathered around the building and police officers inside, you walk in and see your boss talking to one of the officers.

“Oh y/n!” your boss calls out to you, his hand raised up to get your attention, and then he’s waving you over.

“Yes?” you look between him and the officer, “What’s up? What’s going on?”

“Did you know Park Jimin?” The officer gets straight to the point.

“I…do…” your eyes scan the inside of the building and you notice a couple of women that work in your office crying into each other’s arms.

“Do you know if something was going on his life? Something that could lead him to commit suicide?”

“C-Commit?” you look around the room again, you notice your boss looking antsy and the couple of women crying did happen to work in Jimin’s department.

“Yes mam, we understand this is difficult. But any information you have could be crucial. We need to make sure we can rule this out as suicide and not something more serious.”

“He loved his job.” Your boss cuts in nervously, “So it’s not because we didn’t treat him well or something…”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “Commit suicide?”

“We found Park Jimin’s body this morning in his apartment. Overdose it seems. His elderly neighbor usually brings him breakfast in the mornings and when he didn’t answer she got concerned. She was shocked to say the least.”

“He-He’s dead?” you blink at the officer repeatedly, “He died?” you are in a state of shock yourself. There’s no way…you just saw him yesterday…but…but those waves of pain you felt then that huge wave that felt like…death itself.

“I think you’re wrong.” You say, in a state of denial now. “Jimin was just here…I just saw him yesterday.”

“Time of death is some time last night.” The officer confirms. “That’s her!” you hear the voice of a woman scream out. “That’s that bitch!” you turn around in a daze, trying to find the source of the screams.

“You fucking bitch!” you see a woman charging at you, screaming at the top of her lungs with her finger pointed in your direction.

“M-Me?” you point at yourself in confusion.

“He just…why couldn’t you give him a chance?” The woman breaks down, falling to her knees in front of you. “You’re his soulmate for fucks sake. This is all your fault!” She cries out, defeated.

You stand here, confused as hell. He told people? And how is this your fault?

“H-He’s not gone.” You say weakly, your shock still very fresh. “I’ll call him.” you quickly grab your phone from your pocket and dial Jimin’s number.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

You gulp, trying again…

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

And again.

“You have reached the voicemail box of….”

Fuck, why isn’t he answering? You start to panic now. You blink back growing tears, your body seems to be growing weaker and weaker.

“He’s just…”

“He’s dead!” she screams out, looking up into your eyes, her own eyes bubbled over with tears. “And it’s your fucking fault!”

The officer is helping the women off the floor and escorting her outside the building. You stand here in complete shock still, your body about to give out on you. There’s absolutely no way Jimin is dead. And there’s absolutely no way it’s your fault. Right?

~~~~~

Your limbs are so overwhelmingly heavy as you are draped over your sofa. You are unable to move. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat. You are unable to form sentences at this point, you feel drained. Completely drained. You still can’t believe the news. Jimin is gone. You don’t want to believe it but you do feel heartbroken…you feel so lost and empty and incomplete.

You close your eyes, hoping to drift off into a deep, deep sleep.

“We should let her sleep…”

“No! Girl needs to wake up and we need to get this show on the road!”

“Jin…”

“What? The more time she sleeps the more time she wastes.”

“We literally control time we can let her sleep for 5 more minutes.”

“Exactly, we control it so you know how precious it is, Namjoon.”

You swear you hear voices but you’re too fucking tired to open your eyes, they sound so far away…

“Listen I’m only letting her have these 5 minutes because girl needs her beauty sleep. Do you see those horrible dark circles?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“Okay, she has like 30 seconds left and we are waking her ass up.”

“Fine.”

“Hey! Hey!” your shoulders are getting fucking rocked as somebody tries to wake you. “Wakey Wakey, hands off snakey!”

“She doesn’t have a snakey dude.” You hear another voice.

You slowly begin to open your eyes when you see a man with his hands on your shoulders. You scream. You scream bloody murder.

“Hey, woah, woah!” The guy puts his hands up in surrender. “Not going to hurt you!”

“We’re just here to talk.” The other voice cuts in, you snap your head to the side and notice another man. You scramble on the sofa, getting into a defensive position as you scream again.

“Have ourself a screamer, don’t we?” the first man winks, “Huh? Huh?” he opens his arms wide and shakes his head around. “No? Tough crowd.”

“Who the hell are you two? Take what you want! Please just leave me alone!”

“We don’t want anything and leaving you alone isn’t something we can do.” The second man says, he sighs out and crosses his arms. “Look, we need to talk.”

“Oh!” the first man quirks a brow, “We don’t want to take anything…no offense, maybe a little offense, but your apartment isn’t that ni—”

“Jin, now is not the time.”

“What the fuck is happening?” you yell out, “Who are you two?”

“Right.” The first man says, “Introductions. Should we just say who we are or should we do our little number that you refuse to rehearse?”

“We aren’t singing as our intros, Jin.”

“Why not? So unfair, Tae and Hobi do it.

“They’re a special breed.” The second man releases a long breath, “I’m Namjoon.”

“And I’m Jin.”

“And we’re—”

“The Gods of Time!”

You blink at the two psychopaths in your living room with your mouth wide open. What the fuck?

“How did you two get in here?!” you ask, deciding to ignore their little introduction.

“Walked through the front door.”

“But it’s locked—“”

“No, like literally.” Jin states, “We walked through it. Because we’re you know, Gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just tell a God to shut the fuck up?” Jin grins, “Brave girl.”

“We have an order of business.” Namjoon rolls his eyes at Jin, “We need to talk.”

“We aren’t talking until you tell me how you got in my apartment! And what you fucking want!”

“He told you already,” Namjoon sighs, “We walked through the front door and we want to talk.”

“You walked through? Because you’re Gods? Right, like I’m supposed to believe that.” You huff out and Jin lights up with an idea.

“Here.” He’s suddenly handing you a knife. “Stab me.”

“What the fuck?” You hold the knife in your hand, where did he even get a knife so quickly? “I’m not going to stab you!”

“Just do it!”

“No!”

“Yeah, just do it.” Namjoon encourages you with a tired face.

“No!”

“Come on just a little stabby wabby.” Jin sings, “Come on!”

“Fine!” you stick the knife in Jin’s leg and he starts screaming in agony.

“What the hell!!!! Why would you really stab me?!?!? Oh MY GOD?!!!”

“YOU TOLD ME TO?!?!” you stand up in panic, rushing to his leg and seeing if it’s something serious.

“YOU MANIAC!!!! YOU REALLY STABBED—” then he’s laughing hysterically as Namjoon just claps his hands with an unimpressed face.

“Great performance Jin, but can we get to the point?”

“Performance?” you stutter, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I’m a God. You think a little human knife can hurt me?”

“Wait, wait, wait! You really are okay? I stabbed you! Oh my god,” you start spiraling, “I stabbed someone.” You whisper. “Oh my god. Are you okay? I am so sorry!”

“Once again, we are God’s.” Namjoon states matter of fact. “Human weapons do not hurt us.”

Your eyes widen in complete shock, you look between the two men and start shaking your head—spiraling even further.

“God’s? God’s of what?” you breathe out. “This is…this is impossible.”

“God’s of time.” Jin snaps his fingers, “and do we have an offer for you.”

“W-What offer?” you plop down on your couch, your face has gone pale. What the hell is happening?

“Your soulmate, Park Jimin…” Namjoon begins. “Committed suicide last night.”

“And full offense girly, but it’s sort of your fault.” Jin chimes in. You feel your entire body go weak again.

“But we want to offer you something. We will roll back time by one month. Giving you the opportunity to make things right and save his life.”

“Turn back time?” you mumble, “That’s impossible.”

You watch as Jin rolls his eyes and with his pointer finger he’s making small circles.

“Turn back time?” You mumble, “That’s impossible.”

Suddenly you’re hit with Déjà vu. “Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Jin grins and making small circles with his pointer finger again.

“Wait, didn’t I just say that?”

Your eyes go comically wide. “Woah. How did you do that?”

“God’s of Time, it’s literally our specialty.” Namjoon says.

“This girl really don’t listen.” Jin sits down on the couch next to you and you try scooting away.

“Okay…say you really can turn back time…why one month? And why are you giving me this chance?”

“One month because that’s how long it will take to change Jimin’s mind. And because…” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side…”We were sort of pressured into this.”

“By who?”

Ding Dong

“Great, they’re here.” Jin whines, “I was hoping we would have more time with the human by ourselves.”

“Who’s here?” you start to panic, “Who pressured you?”

“Pressure? That’s not very nice to say.” You hear a new voice and it startles you. “Hi there.” You look up to see two new bodies in your living room. “We are—”

“Great, they’re going to sing.” Namjoon sighs. “On with it then.”

“Taehyung and Hoseok!” They say as melodically as possible, “God’s of Fate!” You swear you can see flowers and hearts and stars surround them.

“And we are not happy with you!” Taehyung dramatically pouts while pointing at you, “We have set up such a nice life for you but you always do the opposite. You really hurt our feelings.” Hoseok smiles a huge ass smile, ultimately confusing you further.

“God’s of fate?” you stand up and shake your head frantically. “What’s happening? What’s happening?”

“If you would have followed our path—the natural path—then you and Jimin would be happily together right now.” Taehyung lightly scolds you.

“But instead…” Hoseok begins, “You did the opposite of what we wanted and now look what happened.” He says with a smile still. “You messed with the natural order of things.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault? That Jimin is…”

“Didn’t I literally say it was your fault?” Jin questions and Namjoon swats his arm. “It’s okay though girly, we are offering you a chance to fix this. You can save his life.”

“He’s right y/n.” Namjoon walks closer to you, “You can save his life.”

You can save Jimin? How is this even possible? Suddenly, you hear faint knocking on your front door.

“Oh man. They’re here.” Taehyung looks towards the door.

“Well, we knew they would show up.”

“Who? Who?” you ask, clearly not ready for more guests.

“May I?” Hoseok gestures towards the door, asking if he can open it. You just shrug at this point.

Hoseok walks to the door and swings it open, revealing two more men.

“Oh if it isn’t mister sunshine and sunshine Junior.” The shorter man says under his breath as he walks past Hoseok and Taehyung. Another man following closely behind.

“We actually like those nicknames.” Taehyung says with a smile. “But yes, what are you doing here?”

“You know why we’re here.” The taller man smirks. “We have a soul we don’t intend on returning.”

“Who the fuck are you two?” you grit out, clearly tired of everyone at this point.

“Yoongi.” The shorter man states like he’s bored.

“And I’m Jungkook.”

“Okay? And?”

“Introduce yourselves properly you fools!” Jin yells out.

“Right right.” Yoongi nods his head subtlety, “God’s of Death.”

Your eyes widen in terror. God’s of Death? “So you kill people? Oh my god…you killed Jimin…”

“Okay, one… we don’t kill people.” Yoongi states and Jungkook jumps in.

“But we do like it when they die.” He says with big doe eyes and Yoongi’s expression changes like the realization has hit him.

“Yes,” he admits. “We do like that.”

“Actually we love it.” Jungkook pipes in again.

“Yes, we do love it.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly.

“And two… Jimin offed himself, we just wait to retrieve his soul.”

“His soul is all we’re interested in.” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “That’s all.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Taehyung mutters underneath his breath.

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on and why you all are in my apartment?”

“Damn girl, you really don’t listen.” Jin puts a hand on his hip.

Namjoon steps closer to you again and pats you on the back, urging you to take a seat.

“Taehyung and Hoseok are the God’s of fate, they want to bring you and Jimin together for your epic love or whatever…Jin and I may owe them a favor. So here we are, the God’s of Time…offering you a chance to turn back time and save Jimin’s life. But the God’s of Death over here…” he gestures towards Yoongi and Jungkook, Jungkook looks at you with a wink, “…don’t want that. They’re here to stop you so they can keep their soul like the soul hungry bastards they are.”

The other 5 men nod their heads in agreement as you look at each of them incredulously.

“And you expect me to believe this?” you wipe your sweaty palms on your pants and sigh out heavily, not believing a word.

“Should you stab me again?” Jin offers with a grin, showing you his little human knife you just stabbed him with earlier.

“What??” Jungkook slumps his shoulders, “Jin got stabbed and I missed it?” Jungkook frowns, “I always miss the good stuff…anyway, I vote you stab him again.”

“No!” you’re quick to yell out. “No more stabbing.”

Jungkook physically deflates once again, clearly disappointed.

“y/n…” Namjoon puts his hand on your shoulder, “Make your decision. Do you want to save Jimin or not?”

Of course you want to save Jimin…you don’t want someone you know dead, like come on. But what does it mean to save him?

“Follow our path.” Taehyung whispers to you, “The natural path.”

“You mean your predestined bullshit?” you spit out and Taehyung and Hoseok frown.

“It’s not bull…” then he whispers, “shit.”

“You can say cuss words sunshine junior.” Yoongi smirks, “come on, say ‘fuck’ just once.”

“No!” Taehyung whines

“Stop trying to make our Taehyungie do bad things!” Hoseok stands in front of Taehyung, defending him.

“I’ll say ‘fuck’.” Jungkook looks around the room raising his hand, offering his foul language.

“You already say it all the time, doesn’t count.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Get sunshine junior to say it though and I’ll give you 5 bucks.”

“Come on bro, say ‘fuck’ let me get 5 dollars.” Jungkook begs.

“Human money literally means nothing to us?” Jin questions.

“I still like to collect it.”

“Collecting souls isn’t enough?” Namjoon deadpans.

“I’m a collector, leave me alone.”

“More like a hoarder…” Yoongi cuts in, sighing out.

“Okay!” You stand, “Enough!”

“Finally, someone with some sense.” Namjoon says, “So are you taking us up on our offer? Going to save Jimin’s life?”

“Listen girly, take the offer. Be a hero. Because right now you’re technically the villain.” Jin says matter of fact, his hip poking out as his hand rests on it.

“Or live the life you want. It’s not your fault lover boy offed himself.” Yoongi walks closer to you. “He basically gave his soul for free.”

“You know Jimin was a good person…” Hoseok tells you, “You could feel it.”

You feel yourself grow guilty…this should be a no brainer right? You may not like the idea of soulmates but Jimin doesn’t deserve…this. He deserves to live.

“I’ll do it. I’ll make things right with Jimin, I’ll save his life.” Your firm voices echoes throughout the apartment and Jungkook scoffs.

“You think you can change his mind in a month? He’s set in stone, sweetheart.”

“One…gross, don’t call me sweetheart, and two, I can try.”

“Have fun trying with us by your side.” Yoongi states, a scowl taking over his face.

“She will have us buy her side as well.” Taehyung offers, “We will guide her every step of the way. You can rely on us, rely on fate.”

You roll your eyes, you don’t want any of these guys by your side.

“Is this your final decision?” Namjoon asks, he looks at you with a serious expression and you shudder.

“…Yes.”

“Did you hear that besties? Girl has made her final decision. Shall I do the honors?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. When you wake up y/n…it will be one month ago yesterday. Are you prepared for that?”

“Will I be aware?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Remember you have 30 days to make things right.” Namjoon reminds you and you nod your head.

“Okay, here we go!” Jin spins in circles and you all watch him …it’s lasting for several seconds too long, you grow confused. Jin keeps twirling around, doing little curtseys and now he’s doing the fucking robot…until Namjoon stands up.

“For heaven’s sake.” He uses his finger to spin in circles and things start fading to black, time slowly turning backwards.

May 21

It’s morning. You check your phone and it’s around 7am on Friday, May 21st. What the actual hell. It worked? You went back in time, right? This isn’t just some really incredible, elaborate prank right?

“If you’re thinking if this really happened…it did.” You hear Namjoon speak up from across your room.

“And if you’re thinking ‘wow these two super handsome guys really did that?’ we did.” Jin says hovering over you in bed. You can’t help but yelp, still surprised of their presence.

“Why are you guys here still?”

“Oh honey, it’s not just us.” Jin says matter of fact.

“It’s us too!” Hoseok says cheerily.

“Hoseok and Taehyung too?” you question slowly, your eyes scanning the room.

“Please,” Taehyung throws a hand over his heart, “Call us Hobi and Tae.”

“It’s just you four—”

“You really need to go grocery shopping.” Jungkook walks in the room with an apple in his hand, he brings it to his mouth and takes a crunchy bite.

“And as expected of the human world, the TV is trash.” Yoongi walks in after him, throwing your remote on your bed.

“Why the hell is everyone still here?” you yell out, grabbing at your hair. “I thought I was on a solo mission now!”

“Oh baby girl, it’s not just you anymore” Jungkook smirks, taking another obnoxious bite of his apple—your apple.

“Okay, if I didn’t want to be called sweetheart what makes you think baby girl is gonna pass?”

“I don’t know, thought I’d give it a shot.” He shrugs.

“Anyway,” you roll your eyes. “What do you mean it’s not just me?”

“You insist on saving Jimin’s life…we insist on keeping his soul. We have opposing goals here.” Yoongi explains, a bored expression drawn on his face. “We are going to make sure you are not successful. We can only interfere so much though.”

“And we,” Hobi cuts in, “Are here to make sure you are successful. You see, we are here to guide you on your little journey.”

“Think of us as your friends.” Tae grins at you.

“Yeah, I’d rather not.” You deadpan.

“And you two?” You point at Namjoon and Jin. “What is your purpose?”

“To make sure you don’t fuck up, to put it simply.” Jin states. “You do that a lo—Ow!” Namjoon hits Jin in the gut.

“What Jin is trying to say is, we are giving you a total of 3 mess ups. Once you strike through all 3, you’re on your own. We won’t manipulate time any more for a human like you.”

“A human like me?”

“I just mean, a human in general.” He clarifies and you relax.

“Can others see you?” You ask, quite curious. This whole thing is curious actually. You have 6 God’s chilling in your room right now and you are surprisingly chiller than you thought you’d be.

“They will…” Hobi’s eyes slide to the side. “Listen,” he sways on his feet. “We are going to be spending a lot of time together this next month so let’s all get along.” He smiles that big ass smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, let’s all get along!” Tae chirps, “Except maybe not with these two.” He points at Yoongi and Jungkook. Jungkook narrows his eyes at Tae and slumps his shoulders.

“I’m gonna get you to say ‘fuck’ sunshine junior, mark my words.”

“Not likely.” Tae narrows his own eyes before he’s spinning on his heels to face you again happily. “y/n.” he sings out, “Our new companion!” Hobi joins in on his song, they both start humming and whistling and suddenly Hobi is rapping. It’s all too much, really.

“Yo yo yo, Jin is in the house too—OW!”

“Anyway,” Namjoon brings a small book from his pocket. “There’s rules. Just a couple.”

“Rules?” you mumble, “What rules?”

“Rule number 1,” Jin starts, “You can’t tell Jimin you’re aware of his suicidal thoughts—this can just have more negative effects. Keep his little secret.”

“And rule number 2,” Namjoon closes the little notebook. “You can’t tell anyone about us.” He gestures towards all 6 of them. “You have to swear on this book.”

“What happens if either of those things happen?” You ask.

“Oh they won’t girl.” Jin shakes his finger at you. “Once you swear on a God’s book…you are bound to secrecy. You will literally not be able to talk about it. Your mouth will physically shut.”

“Jin’s right.” Hobi says, “That’s the law of the God’s promises.”

“And you are promising to us.” Tae adds in.

“That’s just the way it is.” Yoongi comments nonchalantly as he picks at his nails.

“Fine, fine. I get it. I’ll swear on the book.” You get up from bed and walk towards Namjoon, you eye his little notebook and then you look at him incredulously.

“Book of the God’s my ass! You can buy this exact notebook from the dollar store!”

“I like human objects too.” He mumbles shyly, “But it is property of the God’s so…are you going to sign it or not?”

“Do I…do I have to like sign with my blood or some—”

“—Yes.” Jungkook says.

“No, no. Stop that Jungkook,” Namjoon pulls out a pen from his pocket. “Just a regular pen. Also probably from the dollar store you speak of.”

“Okay, I got it…” you grab the pen from him and sign your name to the paper. The notebook starts shining a bright gold, almost blinding you. Then the glow fades and you see your signature in gold letters.

“It is done.” Namjoon says, nodding at the others.

“We are going to be with you as much as possible.” Taehyung smiles at you, “So please take care of us.” He bows his head towards you and you wave him off.

“You guys do realize I still have to work right?”

“Oh,” Namjoon’s eyes slide to the side, “We are prepared for that.”

“How are you prepared for—”

~~~~~

You sit in your little cubicle in complete and utter shock, your jaw literally on the floor.

“And this is our new team of writers, editors, and soundtrack producers. They’ll be working on a new game that is still under wraps.” Your boss gestures towards 6 men. The same fucking 6 men that were just in your apartment. Can you even call them just men? They are God’s!

“Please introduce yourself to the rest of the staff.”

“Right, I am Namjoon in charge of writing along with my partner Jin—”

“Jin is me, yes hi. Call me Worldwide—Hey!” Namjoon swats Jin’s stomach. But Jin recovers quickly, blowing a kiss around the office.

“I’m Tae.” Tae brightly waves at everyone, “In charge of editing scripts. Please take care of me.”

“And I’m Hobi, also in charge of editing! Let’s get along everyone!”

“Yo. Names Yoongi.” He quietly says, waving like a shy child.

“I am Jungkook, I am single and I—”

“They’re in charge of soundtrack production.” Namjoon cuts in. “Nice to meet you all.”

The office starts to quietly applaud, nodding their heads in approval as you sit here with your jaw on the floor. There is no way…absolutely no way this is happening.

“Ah, y/n!” Your boss calls out for you, he’s already walking to your desk. “Namjoon here says you all know each other, so I would like for you to help get them get settled in.” The group of 6 men follow behind him. You look at Namjoon like he is absolutely insane.

“Help them how?” you ask quietly. “Like, show them where the coffee maker is? Oh, look. Its right over there.” You point to the left of you. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh y/n! You’re so funny!” Jin slaps his knee, “I need help with some formatting on the first script I have…apparently you know a thing or two about that.” He grins at you and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry…” Hobi begins, his eyes looking around the office. “We won’t just rely on you for help around here…ah! There he is!” Hobi nudges Tae shoulder. “Jimin!” he begins waving the man over.

Jimin looks around the office as if he isn’t the only one with that name. He points at himself and mouths ‘me?’ Hobi and Tae smile widely and nod their heads in unison as they wave him over.

“Yes?” Jimin walks up to you all, his eyes on you…he feels himself grow nervous. “Can I help you?”

“Actually yes.” Tae starts, “Boss man here says you’re an editor just like us, maybe you can show us the ropes.”

“Ah.” Jimin slowly nods his head with his mouth slightly open. “I see.” Then he is nervously looking at you again. “Is that okay? For us all to be working together?” he looks at you while asking this and you scoff.

“I don’t control your life Jimin, do what you want.” You spit out and Jin hits your arm.

“What she means to say is, yes of course we can all work together!” he sings.

You release a long breath, remembering you are on a mission. You muster the fakest smile you can and make eye contact with Jimin.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” You continue to grin and Jimin scrunches his brows as he slowly nods his head again.

“O...kay…”

Hobi jumps in excitement and repeatedly hits Tae’s arm, like he just got an amazing idea.

“Why don’t we all go out tonight to celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?” you deadpan but Jin hits your arm again and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Remember…fate is guiding you. Do as they say.” He says through a tight lip smile.

“Yeah…” you find the energy to say, “Sounds fun…let’s do that.”

You hate this. You are only barely talking to Jimin but you can feel the pull intensify with every word you say to him and every word he speaks to you goes straight to your heart and your fucking vagina.

To call Jimin attractive is an understatement. He is beyond that…he is beyond handsome, beyond cute, beyond gorgeous and beyond sexy. He has a charming way about him, his sharp jawline, his smile with those full, full lips, his eyes. He is effortlessly beautiful…and it drives you absolutely insane.

You remember the first time you saw Jimin…love at first sight? Also an understatement.

He was blonde then. His hair swept across his forehead, you would almost think that was his natural color because it looked that god damn good on him. Now his hair is black and holy hell, it is also his color. But you might think any color is.

“Celebrate how?” Jimin speaks up, his eyes going to Hobi.

“Drinks!” Tae chimes in, “But only one because we all have to work in the morning.” He chuckles and the rest of the boys join in.

“I don’t believe in hangovers.” Jungkook says with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk gracing his features.

“You literally had one like 3 days ago.” Yoongi comments, “You also said ‘I’m never drinking again’”

“That was a different Jungkook.” Jungkook snaps his fingers, “I’ve matured since then.”

“Yeah, right.” You laugh. “Also you guys realize tomorrow is Saturday…”

You actually laugh and the 7 boys snap their heads towards you and smile. All but Jimin…and kind of Yoongi.

“What?”

“You can laugh!!!” Jin takes your hand and high fives himself with it. “Amazing.”

“And you laughed because of me!” Jungkook cheers. “God, I knew I was fucking hilarious.”

“Chill out, kid.” Yoongi shakes his head.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “There’s a bar in the building next to us. We can meet at 7.”

“Actually let’s meet right after work, we can all walk together.” Hobi looks at you knowingly and you roll your eyes.

“Right. Okay, after work then.”

“Sure…” Jimin says slowly, “I will meet you guys here then.” Then he’s taking one last look at you before walking away back to his side of the office.

“Are you guys fucking insane?!” You whisper shout towards the 6 gods. “You work here now?!”

“We have to keep an eye on you and make sure everything goes smoothly…” Tae pouts, he messes with his neck tie nervously. “I even bought these cool human clothes…I thought maybe you would notice.”

“Yeah, yeah. You look nice.” You gesture towards his body and you swear you can see puppy dog ears and tail wagging behind him from how happy he is.

“What about me? What about me?” Jin motions towards his own body as he winks at you.

“You? Fine you look nice too.”

Jungkook slowly walks in the middle of your circle and shows off his outfit to all of you, spinning in a few circles.

“And me baby girl?”

“Call me baby girl one more time and I swear I will kick—”

“Jeez, no need to be aggressive!” Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender. “I’ll take the L for now.”

“Namjoon, please say something as the only person here who is sane.” You turn to face Namjoon and he is looking down at his own outfit.

“Human clothes are so boring.” Is all he says.

You can’t help but groan…then you feel it. Eyes on you. Not just any eyes. His eyes. You follow the feeling until your eyes meet his, he immediately looks away and you feel a sense of guilt. Jimin is going to kill himself? And it’s supposedly your fault? Can you fix this? Can you change his mind? Can you save his life? Can you?

~~~~~

The bar is quiet, well it is only like 5pm. But you assume in the coming hours it will be booming thanks to it being a Friday night. You are seated between Tae and Hobi as they fill your mind with thoughts of Jimin while he is in the bathroom.

“Can’t you just feel how badly he wants to sit next to you? His jealousy that you’re between us?” Tae giggles. “I can’t technically feel his yearning like you can but dudes, it’s so obvious.”

“I get it, I get it.” You groan, “So what’s the plan?”

“Oh that? You are going to ask Jimin out on a date.”

“A d-date?!” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all…” Hobi takes a sip of his beer with a fucking straw. “Trust us.”

You’re really about to trust mister sunshine and sunshine junior? They are drinking their beers with straws. Fucking straws.

“ You don’t owe Jimin anything.” You hear Yoongi’s voice from behind you. “You don’t want to be here y/n. Why are you forcing yourself?”

“She just wanted to hang with me.” Jungkook nudges Tae out of his barstool seat and takes it.

“Heeeey…” Tae pouts as he is left standing, watching Jungkook take his chair. “I was sitting there.”

“Say ‘fuck’ and I’ll give it back.”

“You’re mean.”

“Anyway,” you cut them off before they can continue, “Why do you want his soul so bad? Aren’t there more souls out there?”

Yoongi for the first time curls his lips upwards and smirks at you.

“Jimin is a pure soul. It’s worth more. And he gave it for free, his own will. That much more worth it.”

“Pure soul?” You raise a brow, is Jimin really that perfect? You can’t help but scoff.

“He’s a really good person, y/n.” Hobi says softly, “You know you can feel that.”

He’s right. When you first met him and you had that instant recognition, you could feel just how good he is. It hurt even more, considering how things went…

“I have shots!!!!” Jin comes up to you 5 with a tray of shots, “As the kids say, I am trying to get lit!”

“Barely anyone says that anymore dude.” Jungkook frowns, “Which is unfortunate because it… was…lit...”

“Where’s Jimin?” Namjoon asks, grabbing a shot from the tray, he takes a sniff and fake gags.

“Jesus Christ, I told you anything but Tequila, Jin.”

“He’s in the bathroom…” you say, your head falling in your hand on the bar top. You stare at all the bottles on the shelves and wish you could drown yourself in each one.

“I’m back.” Jimin says from beside you and Jungkook.

It looks like he washed his face with cool water, his bangs slightly wet. He’s nervous, you can quite literally feel it…that’s how intense it is.

“Jimin…” you say his name and it sounds and feels so weird on your tongue, his head whips in your direction with wide eyes and he tilts his head to the side.

“Yes?”

You two lock eyes, his gaze is intense. You can’t help but feel like you’re falling for some sort of spell as you stare at him. The pull between you two only grows…you find yourself leaning in closer to his direction before you’re shaking your head, clearing your throat and looking towards the other boys.

“Uh, there’s shots.” You point at the tray Jin is holding. “Let’s hurry up and take them.”

~

A few hours pass and your group is collectively drunk. Jimin seems to be the only somewhat sober one. Even Yoongi is shimmying to whatever song is playing! You look at Namjoon who is smiling at Jin as they talk to one another and you wave them over.

“I thought human things didn’t effect God’s? Why are you all so drunk?” you laugh, slurring your words.

“Alcohol is alcohol baybey!” Jin throws an arm around your neck as he continues to dance.

“Jin is right.” Namjoon points at him, “Alcohol is the same for us.”

You only nod in response as you eye the bar, Hobi and Tae are dancing with Jimin and he actually looks like he is enjoying himself. You stand from your stool and walk to the dance floor and join them, surprising Jimin.

“Came to hang out with the fun go—guys?!” Hobi moves his body expertly as he speaks.

“Just came to talk to Jimin…” you admit shyly and Hobi and Tae nod in understanding with their eyes wide.

“Good idea.” Tae yells out, “We will keep Yoongi and Jungkook distracted.”

“Thanks…”

“You want to talk to me?” Jimin says over the music, “Me?” he points at himself and you chuckle.

“Yes, you.” You reach down to grab his hand and fuck. You feel like you are being shot with electricity. “Uh,” you quickly drop his hand and gesture for him to follow you. “Come on.”

You and Jimin walk outside the bar, the night is a little chilly, even for May.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks nervously, he sways back and forth on his heels and you can feel his anxiety and it’s making you nauseas.

“Go on a date with me.” You blurt out.

Jimin is silent. His eyes harden as he stares at you and he breathes out roughly.

“You’re drunk.” He states.

“Don’t be difficult.” You begin, “Go on a date with—”

“No.”

“No?”

“You think I can’t feel it?” he asks quietly. “How much you…hate me…?”

You automatically get hit with a wave of guilt. He releases a few shaky breaths and continues. “You are forcing yourself…I don’t want to make you more uncomfortable around me.” He gives you a sad, soft smile and turns around to head back inside, leaving you out in the chilly May air.

~

“I thought you guys were fucking gods? I did what you told me and he fucking rejected me?!” you slur out angrily. Tae and Hobi exchange awkward glances before smiling for you.

“You have to put a lot of effort. Remember…you are working hard to change his whole mind. It isn’t going to be easy y/n. Even with us helping. We lead you on the right path but ultimately you humans do have free will.” Hobi says quietly, he looks around the bar to make sure no one can hear.

“And like Jungkook said…at this moment, Jimin is set in stone. It’s going to take some convincing.” Tae finishes. He messes with his neck tie some more before he is loosening it all the way. “And you better hurry to talk to him because he is with Yoongi and Jungkook. Who knows what nonsense they are feeding him!”

You look over your shoulder and Tae is right, Yoongi and Jungkook both have an arm draped over Jimin’s shoulders and chatting away. They both have sly smiles as Jimin nods his head in drunken concentration.

“Help me get rid of them…” you roll your eyes as you begin walking towards the God’s of death and their meal.

“You got it!” Hobi yells out brightly. “Let’s go TaeTae.” He grabs on to Tae’s arm and drags him towards the death gods. You follow closely behind eyeing Jimin carefully.

It’s a lovely spring day, the flowers are in bloom and the sky is blue with splashes of pink now that the sun is beginning to set. You finally found your dream job that you start in 2 weeks and an affordable apartment. It’s not thaaat much nicer than your previous place but still, an upgrade nonetheless.

Today you woke up feeling…different. Fuller, more whole. Something completely unexplainable. Once you stepped outside even the world looked more beautiful, colorful, vibrant. Your chest is warm and buzzing and you can’t help but fall in love with the feeling. What is going on?

You walk the streets in your restless city and you feel it. The pull. The pull is practically dragging you around without you totally realizing. You just walk the streets in a daze, the pull becomes more and more intense the closer you get to the main park downtown. You realize you don’t visit this park often which is such a shame because it is beautiful.

You stroll around, feeling yourself being pulled closer and closer to this gigantic tree in the center and then you feel your insides burst. Your eyes land on a figure, you can only see his back but you just know. He must feel it too because he is quickly turning his body around and facing you. His eyes find yours immediately and holy fuck.

You know him. As soon as your eyes meet you feel like you fucking know him. You feel yourself being drawn to him like there is spell you are both under. You don’t stop your feet from moving as you walk closer and closer. He only stares at you with wide eyes until his thick lips curve up into the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. Little did you know, this would be the only time you will see him smile like this.

Love at first sight? He is the most gorgeous human being you have ever had the pleasure of your eyes landing on. His blond hair swept over his forehead, his piercing eyes, his full lips, his entire figure. His beautiful, beautiful smile. He has charmed you. And it doesn’t help that you feel that instant attraction. That recognition and the intense, intense burst of love you feel.

But it is not your love that you are feeling. It is his. Because you feeling love for a someone you don’t actually know is impossible…that this is just some forced, predestined façade. And you are hit with the reality and the truth. You feel your insides turn from a gooey mess to hard. You feel yourself grow angry, you feel hatred grow within you and it must be intense because Jimin must feel it too. The way his smile drops and how his face goes pale. He takes a hesitant step away from you and looks at you with so much question. He feels how you loathe him.

You continue to look at Jimin as you walk closer and closer to him in the bar, Tae and Hobi pulling Yoongi and Jungkook off his body as you make your way over. Even walking closer and closer to him you feel all of your confusing feelings. You hate him yet you are drawn to him.

“Jimin.” You say his name, it comes out rough and breathless and he pinches his brows together.

“Yes?” he asks softly, he walks closer to you as well. “Is everything okay y/n?”

You swallow down your pride as you stare into his eyes. They look sad…empty even.

“Date…” you murmur. Jimin’s sad, empty eyes flash with a sliver a hope before they turn dark again.

“Why?” he finally asks…he walks just a bit closer to you and you step back, feeling suffocated. If he gets any closer you…

“I want to make things right.” You admit between a few breaths, “I want to get to know you.”

You aren’t lying, you do want to make things right. He doesn’t necessarily know what you mean but that’s okay. “I haven’t been the nicest to you but I want to change that.” You mumble.

“You want to know me?” he gulps, “You want to…spend time with me?” you can feel how nervous he is and you can’t help but chuckle just a bit.

“Coffee? We can start there.” You say, feeling your own nerves spiking. Who knew talking to your fucking soulmate could be this hard.

Jimin bites down on his thick bottom lip, his cheeks warming up as they turn a lovely shade of pink.

“Okay….” He says, trying to hide his growing smile “Coffee.”