#but yeah for all that it translates to 'day of wrath' it's very much a death motif when we're talking about music

[navree]

so john and arthur, combined, are the dies irae motif from music? like, the catholic funeral mass theme?

[sendpseuds]

“Christ, Spencer’s still exists!?”

It has been many years since Obi-Wan has found himself at the mall, and if it weren’t for fear of incurring the wrath of his ex-wife, he’s fairly certain he never would have returned to this godforsaken place.

“You know what Spencer’s is?” 

Korkie’s voice is incredulous, arms crossed over his chest, staring up at Obi-Wan with his mother’s arched eyebrow like his father can’t possibly have knowledge about anything even mildly fun or cool.

Obi-Wan wants to roll his eyes.

Instead, he digs his nails into his palm.

Before you I was fun.

Before you I was cool.

“Of course I do,” he replies with a haughty huff, trying to swallow the defensive feeling in his throat, “When I was your age we would actually hang out at the mall.”

Korkie laughs.

Not kindly.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan feels even less cool than he had a moment before.

“You know,” Korkie muses as they near the novelty shop in question, his voice settling to a low note Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’s heard the boy hit before, finally settling into all the terrible changes and challenges of being a teenager, “Mom never lets me go in there—”

Translation: Here’s your chance to be the fun parent. The cool parent. 

It’s the oldest trick in the book, and frankly, he expects more from his own son, but they’ve got a long terrible day of ex-wife-mandated back-to-school shopping ahead of them and Obi-Wan thinks he’d rather start the nightmare with a smiling teen than a sulking one.

“I am curious,” Obi-Wan says, completely bypassing the comment about Satine. If he’s taking his son into what is, essentially, every teenager’s first sex shop, he’s at least going to make it his idea, “I wonder how much has changed.”

The excited smile on Korkie’s face looks a whole lot like victory.

“You can’t tell your mother.”

“Never,” Korkie promises before rushing ahead and into the dimly lit store.

Somehow, decades later, this place looks exactly the same. 

Dark.

Disorganized.

Debaucherous.

So very dark.

The front of the shop is littered with graphic t-shirts and novelty items — party games, gag gifts, and kitschy decor — the merchandise growing more and more adult the further back the display is. Obi-Wan is sure there are fuzzy handcuffs and dildos back by the Playboy posters and lava lamps but he remembers what it was like to be a teenage boy and Korkie’s going to learn about all of it sooner or later.

[And Satine is certainly not going to teach him about it if the boy’s recounting of her almost horrifyingly clinical sex talk is anything to go by.]

Korkie runs his hand over the orange owl on a black Hooter’s shirt and now, Obi-Wan does roll his eyes.

When the boy looks up, the mischievous smile on his face immediately transforms into a seething scowl.

He’s getting quite good at that look.

He looks so much like his mother.

“Don’t follow me, Dad!” Korkie bites out, scoffing loudly when Obi-Wan holds his hands up in surrender, turning on his heal and disappearing behind a shelf of alien-themed housewares.

“Yeah, Dad,” an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere behind him, the man’s tone low and teasing, “Leave him alone.”

Obi-Wan turns and finds himself pinned in place by eyes as blue as the Bad Bitch neon hanging beside him.

The beautiful young man standing behind the counter is wrapped all in black, ripped jeans slung low on his hips, plain black t-shirt beneath a leather harness, the sort Obi-Wan has never seen anyone wear outside of a porno and certainly never in public. Dyed black hair is growing out blonde at the roots and there’s a scar through the eyebrow that isn’t pierced and the way his stunning smile only grows makes something stir in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

I used to be cool.

I used to wear risky clothing and a ring in my ear.

I used to pop pills and smoke cigarettes.

I used to be young and hot.

Now, I’m just Dad.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” the stunning creature working at Spencer’s says, his voice lower than it was a moment ago, those wild blue eyes unabashedly tracing up and down Obi-Wan’s body with an amused grin, placing both his hands flat on the counter and hinging forward at the hips, arching his spine in a way that makes Obi-Wan sway forward, his eyes falling to a pair of perfect pink lips, imagining the metal piercing hard and cold between his teeth as they part to speak.

“I think I’d rather call you Daddy.”

[part two][part three]

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

|1/6| overhaul your wardrobe.

▸ student!gojo satoru x student!reader; fem!reader; pining-since-childhood!gojo; oblivious-since-childhood!reader; height difference [satoru calls reader shortie – affectionately ofc]; cute banter; tooth-rotting fluff; suguru and shoko are helping yet foiling gojo's plans [poor boy]; the author loves shoko very much :]

▸ many thanks to @guccirosegold and @afortoru for listening patiently to my rants on this fic and giving lovely comments & suggestions! ilysm, andy & A 🥰🥰🥰

▸ find other parts of 'ramé' and other [stand-alone] fics set in the same universe as this work here! anyways, image, divider & characters ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

a low whistle leaves gojo as he appraises himself in the mirror.

snow white hair neatly trimmed with short bangs, sunglasses from gucci giving a peek of his transfixing blue gaze, a fitting tom ford white shirt paired with black slacks and designer shoes, and, to top it all off, a perfume by bleu de chanel he bought especially for today...

there's no way in hell you won't find him attractive today.

with a smug smirk, the first-year swings the door to his dorm wide open, ready to astound the two waiting outside with his insanely good looks - and pauses, boisterous shout dying within his throat.

"'toru!!" you exclaim as you jump off the balustrade you were seated on and rush to him, a wide grin splitting your face into half. "surprise, i caught an earlier train!"

in spite of the shock, the boy feels his lips lift in a smile.

it's been nearly a year since the last time the two of you were face-to-face; you're still as beautiful as you were then.

"hey shortie," the words leave him in a whisper as you wrap your arms around him - only for a pained 'ouch!' to escape him a second later. massaging his side where you pinched him, the boy watches you step back with a scowl. (faux, of course.)

"call me that one more time and no one can save you from my wrath."

"wrath?" chuckling, gojo bends a bit to be your eye-level. you narrow your eyes at him. "you think that can scare me? the gojo satoru?"

"it sure can," folding your arms across your chest, you throw him a smirk in the next instant. "if it makes me share all the mochi i bought with ieiri senpai and geto senpai, and not give you the tiniest bit of it."

eyes widening behind glasses, a gasp escapes him. "you wouldn't!"

"i would," you answer, the same smirk as before still on your lips.

gojo backs off.

you're nothing if not awfully determined to make your promises see the light of the day. if he continues pestering you, the young sorcerer knows he'll actually not get a single morsel of those delicious sweets.

"you know what," a familiar voice cuts in through his thoughts and the boy twists to find his best friend walking towards him. sending him a discreet wink (which he deems is 100% suspicious), suguru reaches your side and continues, "satoru here was really excited about you coming to meet him."

"oh, is it so?" your smirk gives way to an angelic smile. gojo wishes it was directed at him instead of that long-haired bastard.

"yeah," said bastard meanwhile agrees with an overeager nod. "shoko and i too were really excited to meet the girl our friend is so infa-"

a tense silence befalls the corridor when suguru abruptly stops in the middle of the sentence. gojo swears if you weren't standing there, in front of them, he would have murdered his friend in cold blood today.

"infa-?" you prompt, smile dropping a little as your confused gaze darts from one to the other. gojo forces a chuckle out.

"it's nothing, don't you worry," he tries to draw your attention away, when shoko swoops in, like the savior she is (gojo decides to buy her one month's supply of cigarettes) and inquires, "hey, you haven't seen satoru in months, right? any change you find in him?"

that seems to be the trick. a curious glint shines in your eyes as they travel up and down his figure - appreciatively for sure, the boy says to himself. you too seem to have a liking for expensive things, after all.

after two seconds of close inspection, you turn to shoko with a bright smile. gojo's soul goes soaring at the sight in the clear skies above.

"nope! he's the same old 'toru i've always known."

gojo's soul crashes down upon the earth, splintering at the impact.

his two classmates give him a look before shoko asks again, a mild disbelief to her tone, "you really don't find anything new about him? like, maybe he has grown taller? or maybe, more handsome?"

"anything else which you never even expected, maybe?" suguru pipes in from beside him. gojo shoots him a grateful look, all past offenses already forgiven and forgotten.

a beat passes before you shake your head. "nope. nothing about him is new. though, when you speak about unexpected..." you trail off with a contemplative look.

shoko encourages you, "when we speak about unexpected-"

"i never expected you to be so pretty," you finish the sentence for her with a small smile. gojo's jaw drops to the ground. okay, what the fu-

"oh," shooting him an amused smirk, shoko faces you. "and why is it so? why did you not expect me to be so pretty?"

"it's not my fault," you reply, sending him an accusatory glance as you continue, "when i asked 'toru if his new classmates are good-looking, he said they aren't. he said you all look really plain."

"do you find me plain or handsome?" suguru butts in, ignoring the blue-eyed glare boring holes into the side of his head.

"you're plain," the short reply comes in an instant from you - and even in the midst of his gloom for going unnoticed, gojo finds it within himself to smirk at his best friend's withered face.

in the meantime, you continue speaking to shoko, unperturbed.

"yeah, so imagine my surprise when i met you at the torii gates earlier today. with such a stylish bobcut, cute face and flawless skin... i really thought you were a model, ieiri-senpai."

you pause for a second - undoubtedly to catch your breath from that non-stop chatter; gojo knows your habits like his own by now - then ask the girl who's watching you with a pleased expression, an excited grin threatening to bloom on your face, "are you a model, senpai?"

said senpai lets out a chuckle in response.

and despite feeling dispirited (and very, very jealous of that shoko for hogging all your attention), the white-haired boy cracks a fond smile, watching you be so cheery.

yeah, you certainly are one very dense dumbass.

but, he too is gojo satoru - and he will get his feelings across to you.

▸ series: we're the summer to our winter rain

▸ masterlist

[lupizora]

I still can't stop thinking about the M27 teaser trailer. Honestly, when the very first teaser (that had played after the credits of M26) became available online without subs or translation, I thought the new movie might have an amnesia sub-plot. Like something happened that would make Kaito forget everything related to Kaitou KID and Heiji and Conan would have to deal with that along with the rest of the movie's plot. Of course, that idea was shot down from the translation, but I got attached to it for fanfic purposes lol.

So, after seeing the new teaser, that first silly impression is slowly becoming a fully fledged fic (is it HeiKai, HeiShin, HeiKaiShin, idk haven't reached that far yet 😅)

Like yeah, I want the dissonance of KID being aware that Heiji knows Conan is Shinichi, and Heiji not really knowing that Kaito looks like Shinichi (because Kudou never tells him any details that are not important for the task at hand). If anything, Heiji probably heard that's an option from Kazuha because Ran kept complaining to her about all the times KID had disguised as Shinichi before (or given recent manga spoilers, even from Hakuba and his suspicions).

That's why when Heiji unmasks him by cutting through his top hat, KID still slips into his Shinichi disguise (after doing it so many times, I'm convinced he can without a mirror at this point). Not because Heiji will believe it, since Conan is right there, but to buy time.

Heiji, of course, is pissed off about it, and given the whole Kidzuha fiasco, he wants to cut KID in half more than play along.

But KID says that he can't help it if disguising as the people that Heiji loves will keep him safe from his wrath. While Heiji has a crisis over what kind of love does he mean, KID makes his escape (recently stolen sword and all). Heiji throws his sword after KID, like a javelin, and unbeknownst to him, actually hits the handglider. KID drops out of the sky, fate unknown.

Next day, Iori shows up to bring Heiji to Momiji's temporary place (will the plot remain in Hokkaido, dunno) as there is a sensitive matter to discuss. Turns out, they found KID somewhere. While they recognize this person looks like Kudou Shinichi, it's still pretty obvious the clothes he had been wearing was KID's outfit. Heiji manages to convince them to bring Conan along, since the suspicion for KID's real identity will fall on his "cousin" and who's better to dispel these kind of rumors.

What neither of them expects when they are left alone with KID though is that one, he doesn't know who he is; two, he doesn't recognize Conan; but three, he remembers Heiji.

For now, I think the sword has something to do with this temporary amnesia (like holding a part of Kaito's soul or sth) since he feels more like himself whenever he's close to it. I also like actual magic shenanigans in the DetCo universe because it means I can make Akako appear (if the magic is real, she can exist. That's my rule lmao).

But that's pretty much what I have of this idea.

[forabeatofadrum]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @wellbelesbian for the tag! Here goes:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

... 162. what the FUCK.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,323,028. WHAT THE FUCK

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Well, almost half of those 162 fics are Glee fics. My other two bigger fandoms are Check, Please! and the Simon Snow Series.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Everything will be alright, the only Brooklyn Nine-Nine fic I have ever written.

All shall know the wonder, probably my favourite Check, Please! fic that I've written, so hooray!

The last to know, which was a reaction fic for the end of year 3 of Check, Please!

How lucky we are to be alive right now, which is my first ever Carry On fic and I don't even like it that much anymore, but I guess it's the origin story yada, yada.

The 2020 Young America New Year’s Eve Gala, my sole Red, White & Royal Blue fic. I wrote it in 2020, but thanks to the movie, it got a lot more views and kudos.

I am actually surprised (but also not, I think I have seen this before) that there is no Glee fic in this list. My Glee/Klaine fic with most kudos is the 15th on the list!!! (It's Myosotis sylvatica, by the way.) (My goddamn Love, Victor fic is higher on the list WACK!!)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

No. I do read all of them, but I always feel super awkward responding. Idk. It's a me problem, I guess. So I only respond when I have something specific to say or if a comment totally blows me away and I want to at least acknowledge that. Although... I am behind on that as well.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. Does Your heart is in your chest again, not hanging from your sleeve count? It's a Next to Normal AU Klaine story, and if you know the musical, you know.

There's also My rose-coloured boy, a pre-Wayward Son Snowbaz fic that shows that Simon is not dealing with shit and it has an unhappy ending, I suppose, but it also fits in canon so does it count, because in canon, the entire Snowbaz story does have a happy end.

OH WAIT A HOT MINUTE THERE IS ALSO MY WIP Dalton 8 Days of Wrath. That fic is supposed to be Sad Shit Only!!!

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I love writing happy endings, so I am not sure which one is the happiest.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope, luckily.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope. I uhhhh have a whole ass essay on why I don't.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes, I am one of those "how can I Klaine-ify" bitches. The craziest is probably my Glee/Animal Crossing fic Wandering. I don't like it THAT much, but it was fun. I also had a very extensive, not-published Glee/Barbie Mariposa and the Fairy Princess crossover (yeah) once.

And I've been talking for ages about how I will one day write a Glee/Winx Club crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I unfortunately assume that it's happened, since ya know, AO3 scrapers.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I know someone wanted to translate Charms & Pearls into Italian, but I don't know it's happened. @klaineship2 also translated one of my Hearing verse fics into German: Musik nur, wenn sie laut ist. I once read this translation out loud and sent it to my German friend @vreniii and I may have hurt her ears.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Call Me Maybe, my aroace Agatha fic with @captain-aralias and Stage Fright, a Halloween Klaine fic with @spookyklaine, @esperantoauthor, @justgleekout, @snarkyhag, sopheadraws, MissFlurry and keyiqiang.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

(Yes, Alex, I still say OTP.)

Klaine. Look, I will be a Klainer 12 till the day I die. You will catch me crying over Teenage Dream (gcv) at the nursing home.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have... so many WIPs. So. Many. WIPs. I don't want to give up on them yet.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I can write dialogue and that I can be pretty funny.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Alex, I so feel you on the second hand embarrasment thing with sappy stuff. I also bitch a lot about not being able to write romantic endings. I also have struggles with describing movement.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I mean. I have done it before, most noteably Paradiso, aap noot mies and Ik was meteen ondersteboven., so I am down for it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Published? Glee.

When I was a wee child writing stories about other media, Winx Club and Harry Potter, although I never published those.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

OH. Oof. In no order, split by my 3 main fandoms (because I cannot narrow it down!):

For Klaine: Myosotis series (especially part 1 and 5), Mendacious, I’d cry a river just for you, All the pretty things that we could be and Ljubim te.

For Snowbaz: Paradiso series (especially part 1 and 3, rip part 2), Time After Time and make a fire out of this flame.

For Zimbits: All shall know the wonder and Center Ice.

Forgive me for not tagging anyone. I am taking the lazy "everyone is free to do it!" approach because I am tired!!!

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Hi Koni!🤗💜As promised, I finally thought of an ask for your OCs😌hoping it's not too trivial, stupid or complicated🙈In any case-

We already know about Clover's feelings for Jamil, and in your last post, I read that Klee seems to have a soft spot for Jade, so a question arose: how did their crushes begin? Was there attraction at first sight, or did love blossom only after a particular event?🤔

I would like to know how Clover and Klee respectively lived their experiences☺Thanks in advance for your time!✨

Finally I got to answer this! Sorry for the long wait, I've been having a glorious streak of migraines and/or bad moods... But yeah, I'm feeling pretty good today, so here I am :>

Klee

It's kinda funny that you asked about this, because I can happily tease that the next story to drop will feature Klee's experience about falling in love with Jade! I hope I'm not spoiling too much, but the boy is... very quick to fall in love. And he falls HARD. For being as expressionless as he is, Klee sure feels love very intensely, and uh... Well, you will see for yourself xD

Since that is a bit short of an answer though, I'll take the liberty to switch fandoms and talk about his love life in obey me a bit.

Klee is way more introverted within the obey me Universe, much more fixated on being an author and he generally just does his own thing because again, no one takes any interest in him anyway.

That is until, one day at the RAD library, Klee is seeking comfort and reaches for a human world book, in fact one of his all-time favourites...

... Then his fingers touch those of Satan, avatar of Wrath, and Klee grows absolutely weak to this cliché happening. Yes, he has known the demon brothers for weeks, and yes, he has exchanged, like, nine words with Satan. But right there, right now, Klee saw before is inner eye how he'd grow old together with Satan, at least eight children at their side, a house turtle to accompany them as they-

Ahem. Sorry.

Well, when Satan then even was so kind and told Klee to not mind him and take the book...

... That ultimately sealed the start of Klee's heavy, heavy crush that shows lots of daydreaming, secret fanfic writing and hoping that all his sudden life plans with this weird cat loving dude come true eventually 💕

Clover

(also back to Twst)

As for Clover ... She had a similar experience, but fought against it at first.

Clover doesn't believe in love at first sight, because in her opinion, that would only involve a person's looks, which she absolutely doesn't want to judge people on.

And yet... When she first laid eyes on Jamil, she was charmed immediately. I imagine she was invited to have dinner at Scarabia dorm, being friends with Kalim already. Looking for Kalim in the kitchen, she instead encountered Jamil, who was skillfully cooking up several dishes at once while humming a little tune to himself. And, well, his name doesn't translate to "beautiful" for nothing - his athletic body, his dark locks, his V O I C E - Clover couldn't help but stare until Jamil noticed her presence, shooting her an amused little glance, maybe paired with a sassy little remark, and thereby killing her off completely.

But yeah, Clover HATES having crushes on highly attractive people, since those also make her act all stupid and blushy around the person. But you can't be friends with Kalim without being around Jamil, too, right?

That led Clover to see more and more of him, how hard he worked, how tired he looked. Jamil stroke her as a flawless, rather cold being - which she usually isn't attracted to at all. However when she started catching glimpses of his snarky side, his enormous fear of insects, and this blush that involuntarily crosses his cheeks when he's being complimented...

... Clover wanted to never miss any of those moments ever again. She needed to see this person behind the mask, needed to support him with all she got.

She couldn't deny her feelings any longer.

I'm still thinking of a nice moment of realisation for her, where she admits it's more than fancying Jamil for his attractive traits, but rather genuine care for whom he is. I might also write that out one day 💕

------

I hope that answers your question dear awkward noodle friend! Thanks again so much for asking about my OCs, I can't describe how happy your interest makes me ♥️

[nickgerlich]

Wearing It Well

It’s funny how an activity can go from low-brow proletariat, to on-trend chic in a short period of time. But inflation and economic uncertainty can cause tidal shifts in mind and mood. Just ask my daughters, for whom thrifting can take up an entire Saturday when one goes to visit the other. Never mind any gender differences, I never would have thought of doing that at any stage in my life.

There’s something unsettling to me about buying someone else’s clothes. Even a used camera or bike will give me hesitation, because I don’t know how the previous owner used them. Oh, and the stigma associated with having to buy someone’s cast-offs? When I was growing up, that was a badge of dishonor.

Said the guy who hasn’t bought a brand-new vehicle since 1991. Oh well, my money, my exception.

The fact of the matter is, resale in all its forms is now a huge part of the economy, and in many cases, escapes the wrath of the tax man. Any stigma associated with buying used has faded to new lows, and maybe it’s high time I opened my mind to the possibility.

One could argue that it all started with garage sales in the 1970s, which became very commonplace in suburbia. In 1995, the launches of eBay and CraigsList took it all online. In 1998, Plato’s Closet opened. These franchised thrift stores focused on a younger demographic, and encouraged the wear-and-share economy.

Today, we can add Facebook Marketplace to the mix, as well as a slew of resale shops, many of which are chains like Clothes Mentor, as well as online thrifters like thredUP, Poshmark, and others. It has never been easier to sell your gently-used clothes.And it doesn’t end there. MPB.com is the biggest online shop for used camera gear, while The Pro’s Closet and Bike Exchange do the same for high-end bicycles.

A recent survey said that 85% of Americans say they bought or sold items in the last year. That’s significant. For sellers, they’re clearing out things in closets and garages that are sitting idle, and it provides cash at a time when we could all use a little more. For buyers, they’re scooping up bargains that also translate into cash savings at a time when we need it. Did you notice what happened to the price of gasoline in the nation’s midsection the last ten days? If you use 20 gallons a week, that’s $9-10 a week that your cost of living just shot up.

But there are other forces at play as well, and they have a lot to do with a growing sense of personal responsibility and sustainability. Our economy is consumer-driven, with about 70% of GDP accounted for by consumer purchasing. Why hoard things when someone else could be using them? And why toss them in the dumpster when there is still some useable life remaining?

Concerns about being good citizens is the most compelling argument for me, although I am certainly not opposed to saving money. A good laundering or two can wash away any old germs the previous owner left behind (not to mention their DNA, I hope).

As for bikes and cameras, unless I know the seller, I still have concerns. Subtle cracks in a bike frame can lead to catastrophic results when zooming down a mountain; a dropped camera or lens brings with it other worries. Once again, if I know the seller and have seen them use said equipment, I might just feel better about buying it.

The effect of all this thrifting will be felt at retail for years to come, because anyone selling brand new merchandise is going to pay the price. Yeah, I get it. The availability of resale items is totally contingent upon someone buying ever more new items. It is a cycle. There will always be those who buy new.

Furthermore, unless these transactions occur in resale and consignment shops, they dodged the tax bullet. Well, the exception is motor vehicles, because they will get you when you try to register it, but otherwise, the after-market P2P economy is very much alive and well. I don’t think many consumers will cry over declining sales tax revenues.

But at least we are helping create a loop out of our consumption. It can go on and on for as long as the item still has a few ounces of value remaining. And the more we can keep out of landfills, as well as our closets and garages, the better off we will all be. It is the hallmark of a capitalist society that such a large part of GDP is determined by We The People, but that’s a one-way highway.

By making it a loop, we can bypass the unwanted, ugly artifacts associated with all that manufacturing and consuming. Use it, and use it up, whether that responsibility is spread across one or a dozen people.

Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for me to go survey my closet. I bet I can clear out a lot of space.

Dr “Like All Those Clothes When I Could Still Wear A 30” Waste” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[tkingfisher]

This is Lucky, with his lady Clotho. Lucky is a bantam Birchen Cochin, and Clotho was having a molt but we don’t mention that because chickens are sensitive about it. As you can see, they are small spherical borbs.

Now, Lucky is a perfect gentleman. His ladies love him, he never offers violence to chicks, he is resigned to Kevin picking him up and woogie-ing his wattles, and he was gracious to the ancient Rhode Island Red rooster that lived out his golden years in the same enclosure. (We have two, but they share a fence.)

Also his crow sounds like a kazoo solo.

But Lucky is also a bantam, which means that all the rage that lies in the heart of a rooster has been compressed into diamond-like ferocity. Case in point: we once had a fox going over the fence to grab hens. One day, the fox grabbed Lucky. We learned this when we found Lucky outside of his enclosure, covered in blood—only some of it his—and so hyped up on adrenaline that he immediately tried to fight Ninja, the top rooster, who immediately realized that he had pressing business under a rosebush.

We have not seen the fox or lost a hen since.

I tell you that story to tell you this one. Kevin has a very large Black Cochin named Pot Pie. He’s about three times Lucky’s size, and he doesn’t so much crow as roar like a T-Rex. He is huge. And every night, for months, he would go to the fence and flare his neck feathers out at Lucky—through the fence—going “If you were over here, I’d sit on you, little man,” to which Lucky would reply “Oh yeah? Come over HERE and say that.”* But they never leave their respective enclosures, because neither of them can fly for crap. Lucky because he’s too short to get over the fence and Pot Pie because he’s too heavy to get off the ground.

(Occasionally this standoff would end in someone trying to jump-kick the other one and getting tangled in the fence. I once had to sit for five minutes with a flashlight clenched in my teeth, untangling Lucky’s foot. But he is, as in said, a perfect gentleman and sat patiently while I did.)

Today, Kevin was on a work call and looked out the window just in time to see Pot Pie tearing across the yard at extraordinary velocity, pursued by a tiny wrathful rooster. Lucky must have found a gap in the fence at last, because he came over and immediately set about putting the fear of God into his giant nemesis.

When Kevin came outside to give everyone treats, Lucky was strutting around, calling the hens—there’s a little chuckle roosters do that means “Look, ladies, I found a treat!”—and surrounded by an admiring crowd of both bantam and full-size ladies.

Kevin escorts Lucky back to his own enclosure, where his own hens greet him as a conquering hero. He then searches for Pot Pie, and finally hears a THUD as the T-Rex jumps down from hiding inside the coop, pokes his head out, and is like “Is it safe? Is Satan gone?”

He did not go to the fence to threaten Lucky tonight. Pot Pie, as Kevin said, Found Out.

Meanwhile Ninja, far and away the most intelligent chicken on the property, decided it was another good day to spend some quality time under the rosebush.

*loosely translated from Rooster, a complex and idiomatic language consisting mostly of insults.

[nayialovecat]

Lamb makes a deal with Helob

Again, I want to share with you a (very badly, I guess) translated fragment of chapter from my AU's. This isn't a big spoiler from Cult of the Wrath. Volume 3, Chapter 4 "Journey to Darkwood".

The action of the entire AU takes place when Lamb has already defeated all the Bishops - the first volume is literally his whole fight with Narinder. The next ones are attempts to embrace the new domain and at the same time present the characters and the game world in my, more logical version + in the form of flashbacks, I sometimes try to present the events of the game and the reasons why.

I didn't plan that Helob would be such a cool character - to be honest, he came out a bit like some sort of Igor, which only makes his character cooler in my eyes… I changed his style of speaking a bit. I liked this fragment so much that I can't keep it with me too long and want to share it. Enjoy!

.............................................................................................

4. Journey to Darkwood (fragment)

(...) Once outside the church, they looked around the village as if to etch the image in their mind, wondering for a moment what they would find when they returned. They became slightly sad. Then they had leave, levitating just above the grass, to the edge of the village, and stopped only at Glade of the Passage. They took a deep breath, glancing to the sides. They saw Helob praising his living merchandise to some monstrous-looking creature with a slightly wolf's face.

"I don't have time for this," they thought. "I shouldn't..."

But after a moment's hesitation, they ran up there. Helob, who had been talking to a hungry-looking large wolf entity with glowing eyes, both two pairs, immediately pushed its aside as soon as he saw Lamb.

"Oooh! Your grace! Me heard, me heard what happened... Move, simpleton," he growled at the astonished beast, which was pushed even further, pushed carelessly with a hand. It looked surprised, especially when it saw something fluffy and soft in front of its eyes, not much bigger than a small bison wrapped tightly in a cobweb. "Your majesty, you can't even imagine what an honor it is for poor old Helob... oh, yes, a great honor. If Helob knew who the Lamb would become, he would never dare to bargain... But he hopes Lamb will continue in their generosity... yes, yes, as a new god, Lamb certainly won't get greedy... Helob's best client will not disappoint old Helob..."

Lamb felt a little sick. As always when dealing with this monster. They glanced at the bison, which trembled with fear even more - he was probably more afraid of a creature that looked like an innocent Lamb, but which he buys from a live meat trader, than a hungry-looking wolf demon or whatever the monster standing next to him was.

"Helob, I have a case in Darkwood, I may be away for a few days," Lamb said quickly, looking at the slave trader. "This one is what I'll send to my village right now, but I'd like... and listen carefully now... that you keep every new... stuff until I get back, okay? Can you do this for me?"

"Oh, yes, yes... Helob heard, yesterday was a great feast! The music was coming here, Helob was even jiggling... Yes, yes, all the preys for the Lamb, yeah, Lamb will paid in advance?"

"I'll pay you for..." he hesitated "three. If there's more, the rest when I get back, okay? And I advise you not to forget to feed or drink them!"

"Yes, yes... Helob understands... lean meat, bad meat..."

"Don't overdo it," snarled Lamb again.

"Yes. No fat, Helob remembers. Helob takes care of it right away…" The spider unhooked the bison from his web, and the wolf monster snarled. "Shut up! Can't it see that Helob has a more important client? Shu, shoo... don't disturb... Your majesty wishes to leave wrapped or... ah, no, yes, Helob remembers... The spider's web is tasteless, now Helob removes it."

The bison trembled more as the spider's fast limbs untangled him from his spider web, re-rolling him like a rag doll. Meanwhile, Lamb rose in the air for a moment and illuminated the eyes. The little bison jumped up as soon as it was raised and tried to escape - but at that moment the portal grabbed him and dragged to the village. Lamb fell to the ground. The spider chuckled.

"Your majesty is not taking any chances with them, ha, ha, Helob will never get bored with this sight... yes, Helob goes hunting... Lamb to Darkwood? So we won't meet, Helob will be in Anura... He will find a lot of tasty morsels. Three at least for Lamb, however more...

"I'll pay extra when I get back" reminded Lamb.

"Yes, yes, all for Lamb..." Helob hesitated. "Old ones too? Sick ones too?"

"As you said, I am now a god. Old age or sickness is not a problem."

"So maybe Helob should start asking the full price?"

"Don't push it."

"No, no... of course... Your grace is not angry with stupid old Helob... Of course, old and sick, always cheaper... yes, Helob will not disappoint the biggest, best customer..." Saying that, he began wind up his stuff - the scaffolding on which the net was set up, empty cages. Lamb, looking at their quantity, wondered how many they had missed.

At that moment, the wolf monster roared, then directed its muzzle at Lamb. It looked like it wanted to attack them. The growl grew louder - but the woolen creature showed no fear, and the spider merchant ignored it too. Paws buckled slightly. Lamb didn't want to do that, but...

Blood spurted. The wolf monster howled, clutching its muzzle with its paws and taking two steps back quickly. Lamb looked at them coldly, while the sword in the form of the Crown had already returned to their head.

"I don't advise you to come here again," they said slowly. "So far I'm nice. But if I see you again in MY domain I swear I will make you into a meal for my people... get it?"

The wolf creature whined with bass voice. It couldn't quite fit in its head that the tiny compared to it, woolly creature just slashed it through its muzzle with a sword who become a crown. That it had bought its meal before it and was treated better by the slave trader than it was. It understood nothing anymore.

"Ha! Helob warned you, idiot!" the spider laughed derisively, putting his stall on his back. "Important customer. More important than any other! Heard his grace? Shoo, shoo, never here again..." And then he whispered in private. "Helob now in Anura..."

"Helob, we have a deal!" reminded Lamb sharply.

"Oh yes, yes... now there are no preys from Helob for anyone... Big order, yes... Helob then in Silk Cradle, find there... Four days from now, yes, yes, Helob will be there..."

Lamb turned, breathing hard. As always, talking to this disgusting spider made them feel sick and dizzy. But they was smart enough never to try to deny Helob's belief that Lamb and their followers would eat the preys they had bought from him.

(...)

------------------------------------

Polish version:

4. Podróż do Darkwood (fragment)

Gdy znalazło się na zewnątrz kościoła, rozejrzało się jeszcze po wiosce, jakby chciało wyryć sobie ten obraz w pamięci, zastanawiając się przez chwilę, co zastanie, gdy wróci. Lekko posmutniało. A potem już wypruło, unosząc się w powietrzu tuż nad trawą, ku skrajowi wioski i zatrzymało się dopiero przy Polanie Przejścia. Odetchnęło głęboko, zerkając na boki. Dostrzegło Heloba zachwalającego swój żywy towar jakiemuś potwornie wyglądającemu stworzeniu o nieco wilczym pysku.

"Nie mam na to czasu - pomyślało. - Nie powinnom..."

Ale po chwili wahania podbiegło tam. Helob, który rozmawiał z głodnie wyglądającym wielkim wilczym bytem o świecących oczach, całych dwóch parach, natychmiast odepchnął go na bok, gdy tylko zobaczył Jagnię.

- Oooch! Wasza łaskawość! Słyszałem, słyszałem, co się stało... Suń się, prostaku - warknął na zdumioną bestię, która została odsunięta jeszcze dalej, odepchnięta niedbale ręką. Wyglądała na zaskoczoną, tym bardziej, gdy dostrzegła przed sobą coś puchatego i miękkiego niewiele większego od zawiniętego ciasno w pajęczynę małego bizona. - Wasza miłość, nawet sobie nie wyobrażasz, jaki to zaszczyt dla biednego, starego Heloba... o tak, tak, wielki zaszczyt. Gdyby Helob wiedział, kim stanie się Jagnię, nigdy by nie śmiał się targować... Ale liczy na to, że Jagnię nie ustanie w swojej hojności... tak, tak, jako nowy bóg, Jagnię z pewnością nie stanie się chciwe... Najlepszy klient Heloba nie zawiedzie starego Heloba...

Jagnięciu zrobiło się lekko niedobrze. Jak zawsze, gdy miało do czynienia z tym potworem. Rzuciło okiem na bizona, który drżał ze strachu jeszcze bardziej - chyba bardziej bał się stworzenia wyglądającego jak niewinne Jagnię, które kupuje jednak u handlarza żywym mięsem, niż wygłodniale wyglądającego wilczego demona czy czym tam był potwór stojący obok.

- Helob, mam sprawę w Darkwood, może mnie nie być kilka dni - rzuciło szybko Jagnię, przenosząc wzrok na handlarza niewolnikami. - Tego tu zaraz wyślę do mojej wioski, ale chciałbym... i słuchaj uważnie teraz... abyś każdy nowy... towar zachował, dopóki nie wrócę, dobrze? Możesz to dla mnie zrobić?

- A tak, tak... Helob słyszał, wczoraj była wielka uczta! Muzyka dochodziła tutaj, Helob nawet podrygiwał... Tak, tak, wszystkie ofiary dla Jagnięcia, tak, Jagnię płaci z góry?

- Zapłacę ci za... - zawahało się - trójkę. Jeśli będzie więcej, reszta, jak wrócę, jasne? I radzę ci, żebyś nie zapomniał ich karmić ani poić!

- Tak, tak... Helob rozumie... chude mięso, złe mięso...

- Nie przesadź tylko - warknęło jeszcze Jagnię.

- Tak. Zero tłuszczu, Helob pamięta. Helob od razu się tym zajmuje... - Pająk odczepił bizona z sieci, a wilczy potwór warknął. - Zamknąć się! Nie widzi, że Helob ma ważniejszego klienta? Sio, sio... nie przeszkadzać... Wasza miłość życzy zostawić zapakowane czy... ach, nie, tak, Helob pamięta... Pajęczyna niesmaczna, już Helob usuwa.

Bizon drżał bardziej, gdy szybkie kończyny pająka rozplątywały go z pajęczyny, obracając jak szmacianą lalkę. Jagnię tymczasem uniosło się na chwilę w powietrze i rozświetliło oczy. Mały bizon, gdy tylko został postawiony, poderwał się i próbował uciec - ale w tym momencie portal porwał go i wciągnął w stronę wioski. Jagnię opadło na ziemię. Pająk zachichotał.

- Wasza miłość się nie cacka z nimi, ha, ha, Helobowi nigdy się ten widok nie znudzi... tak, Helob rusza na łowy... Jagnię do Darkwood? Nie spotkamy się zatem, Helob będzie w Anurze... Znajdzie dużo smacznych kąsków. Trzy co najmniej dla Jagnię, jak więcej...

- Dopłacę, jak wrócę - przypomniało Jagnię.

- Tak, tak, wszystkie dla Jagnię... - Helob zawahał się. - Stare też? Chore też?

- Jak sam powiedziałeś, zostałom teraz bogiem. Starość czy choroba nie jest żadnym problemem.

- Więc Helob może powinien zacząć żądać pełna cena?

- Nie przeginaj.

- Nie, nie... oczywiście... Wasza łaskawość nie gniewa się na starego głupiego Heloba... Oczywiście, stare i chore, zawsze taniej... tak, Helob nie zawiedzie największego, najlepszego klienta... - Mówiąc to zaczął zwijać swój kram - rusztowanie, na którym była rozstawiona sieć, puste klatki. Jagnię, patrząc na ich ilość, zastanawiało się, ilu przegapiło.

W tym momencie wilczy potwór ryknął, a potem skierował pysk na Jagnię. Wyglądał, jakby chciał je zaatakować. Warkot nasilał się - ale wełniana istota nie okazywała nawet odrobiny lęku, a pajęczy handlarz ignorował. Łapy lekko ugięły się. Jagnię nie chciało tego robić, ale...

Bluznęła krew. Wilczy potwór zawył, chwytając się łapami za pysk i cofając szybko o dwa kroki. Jagnię zaś popatrzyło na niego chłodno, podczas gdy miecz w postaci Korony już wrócił na jego głowę.

- Nie radzę pojawiać się tu kiedykolwiek więcej - oznajmiło powoli. - Na razie jestem miłe. Lecz jeśli zobaczę cię jeszcze raz w MOJEJ domenie, przysięgam, że to ciebie przerobię na posiłek dla moich ludzi... jasne?

Wilczy stwór zaskomlał basowo. W jego głowie nie mieściło się, że maleńka w porównaniu do niego wełniasta istota właśnie cięła go mieczem, który staje się koroną, przez pysk. Że kupiła jego posiłek przed nim i była traktowana przez handlarza niewolników lepiej niż on. Nic już nie rozumiał.

- Ha! Helob ostrzegał, durnia! - zaśmiał się szyderczo pająk, zakładając swój kram na plecy. - Ważny klient. Ważniejszy niż jakakolwiek inna! Słyszał jego łaskawość? Sio, sio, nigdy więcej tutaj... - A potem szepnął poufale. - Helob teraz w Anurze...

- Helob, mamy umowę! - przypomniało ostro Jagnię.

- A tak, tak... teraz nie ma ofiar od Heloba dla nikogo... Duże zamówienie, tak... Helob potem w Silk Cradle, tam znaleźć... Cztery dni od teraz, tak, tak, tam Helob będzie...

Jagnię odwróciło się, oddychając z trudem. Jak zawsze, rozmowa z tym odrażającym pająkiem przyprawiała go o mdłości i zawroty głowy. Ale miało dość rozumu, aby nigdy nie próbować dementować przekonania Heloba o tym, że Jagnię i jego wyznawcy zjadają kupowane od niego ofiary.

[nano--raptor]

On Time Arrangement

Pairing: Professor Charles Blackwood x College TJ Hammond

Words: 1880

Warnings: Professor/Student relationship, smut, oral sex (m rec), dirty talk, praise, cursing, slight degredation and name calling (slut), TJ is mid 20s’s and Charles is mid-late 30’s.

A/N: Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ Long Distance Love weekend! One of the prompt ideas was college AU, and I wanted to write character student this time, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to write these two together😏 Thanks for reading!❤

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

I do NOT authorize my work to be copied, translated or reposted in ANY way.

18+ ONLY. This post contains mature subject matter. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you agree that you are 18+. Do not interact if you are under the age of 18.

TJ arrived to class a split second after the bell rang, slipping through the door just as it was closing. He hurried to take his seat a few rows back in the lecture hall, hoping his prof wouldn’t notice. 

If he could be so lucky. Professor Blackwood stood at the front of the hall, waiting not so patiently for everyone to settle down, starting into his lecture less than a minute after the bell rang, expecting everyone to be ready to start at the sound of the bell. That is when the class began, after all.

After a few opening remarks and introduction of the day’s topic, he paused, critical eyes scanning the room. TJ gulped, hoping he’d escape his professor’s wrath today, but those icy blue eyes paused, lingering on TJ’s own, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Dammit. TJ squirmed, fidgeting with his pen and finally crossing his legs, and he swore he saw the briefest hint of a smirk before his professor turned away, starting into the lecture.

TJ could barely concentrate, but he did his best, trying to take notes and focus on the lesson. Before he knew it, the 90 minute period was over and the bell was ringing again. He packed up his things and stood to leave the hall, Professor Blackwood’s voice cutting through the mulling of students as TJ neared the door, sending a tingle down his spine. “Mr. Hammond. I expect to see you at my office at 4pm to make up for your tardiness.”

Shit.

TJ shifted anxiously on his feet as he stood outside the large oak door, checking his phone until the time read exactly 4pm, before knocking lightly on the aged wood. This wasn’t the first time he’d met his professor in his office, but his nerves nearly got the best of him every time. The door swung open with force and TJ started, Professor Blackwood’s piercing eyes meeting his for just a moment before he stepped back, walking towards his desk. TJ followed him in and closed the door, flicking the lock, before stepping in further. He paused in front of the large wooden desk, nearly an antique, and clasped his hands together.

“So,” his professor, Charles, started. “Late again today, Mr. Hammond.” TJ nibbled his bottom lip, not having a good excuse whatsoever. He’d overslept, dashed to class and literally ran through the hall to make it on time, and still ended up missing the bell. Fraction of a second or not, in Blackwood’s class, late was late.

“I’m sorry, Professor Blackwood, sir,” TJ started, holding Charles’ gaze despite his nerves. Charles sat back in his chair with a hum, fingers steepled, keeping his eyes locked on TJ's with the slightest smirk on his lips. He’d removed his suit jacket that he’d worn earlier, it hung neatly on a coat rack by the door. The calm nature in which he held himself both intrigued and terrified TJ. He never knew what to expect from this man.

“I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “Did you even catch any of the lecture today, or were you too distracted?” TJ winced; he’d tried to pay attention, but the glare he’d received at the beginning of class had thrown him off, and Charles knew it. He’d done it on purpose. 

“I was listening, sir, I -”

“Well why don’t you go over the main points then,” Charles suggested, his tone a little darker, knowing that TJ wouldn’t be able to recall all the points off the top of his head. 

“Sir, I - I haven’t had time to review my notes.” “Ah. Of course not.” He paused, tapping his fingers together, clearly enjoying the way his gaze made TJ squirm. “Do you have something else in mind then, Mr. Hammond?” TJ’s gaze flicked back up to meet his professor’s, the blush already creeping up his neck to his cheeks as he nodded slowly. Yes, he did have something else in mind, but he wanted Charles to say it, just like he did every time TJ made an office visit. 

TJ just nibbled his lip, wringing his hands together and dropping his gaze again. He knew Charles loved it. Loved the little back and forth, the hard to get, the innocence ploy that TJ was so very good at. Charles clenched his jaw and raised an eyebrow, playing his own game that made TJ’s cock twitch. Oh how he loved it. But he wouldn’t dare ask for it, this was always in Charles’ court, in his control.

It was exactly what TJ wanted.

“Come here.” It was a command, a lower and more stern tone than he would ever use in class, and TJ swallowed hard as the sound rolled through him, making his skin prickle. He walked slowly towards the desk, stopping around the side just a few feet from Charles. The other man just smiled, his eyes flashing, his low voice rolling through TJ again. “Closer, Mr. Hammond. What are you doing way over there.” TJ bit his lip hard to hold in the groan, stepping closer still until he stood between Charles’ spread thighs. Oh the thoughts he’d had about these thighs. It was sinful.

“Now,” Charles began as his hands moved to his belt. “What if you put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, hm?” Slowly, painfully slowly, he opened his belt, undoing the buckle, sliding it open and letting it drop, his hands now reaching up to his tie. Dark lashes practically fluttered as he loosened it, and TJ nearly groaned again, feeling the heat pool between his legs. Something about Charles and his fingers and they way moved so smoothly, nimbly, TJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about those fingers either. 

With a shy, sultry smile, TJ slowly sank down to his knees between Charles’ legs, placing his hands on toned thighs and sliding them upwards. Charles was looking down at him now with a possessive glint in his eyes, watching as TJ’s hands ghosted over his crotch, lightly brushing over the bulge in his pants, before undoing the button and slowly pulling the zipper down. TJ palmed him through his underwear, biting into his bottom lip again as he pulled the waistband down to free Charles’ impressive length from the confines of the fabric. He licked his lips then, glancing up at Charles through his own dark lashes, pulling the perfect puppy dog eyes that he knew the other man loved.

“Look at you, so eager…” Charles mused, his voice trailing off as TJ leaned in, licking a stripe up his cock and pulling a groan from him as he closed his lips around the red, aching tip. TJ knew Charles loved his mouth on him, he’d done it enough times to have already figured out what his professor liked. Sometimes he wished they could have more time, the opportunity to explore each other further, and really find out what drove Charles wild.

TJ licked over Charles’ length again before swallowing him down, pulling another deep moan from the other man, sending a shiver straight to his own cock, already straining in his jeans. He moaned around him, and Charles rolled his hips up further into TJ’s mouth in return. When he bumped against the back of TJ’s throat, he just hummed, breathing through his nose as he swallowed around him, Charles muttering curses above him.

“Shit, you’re far too good at that…”

TJ’s hands wandered further up Charles’ thighs, squeezing and massaging, and as they neared his hips, TJ wished he could grab Charles’ ass, his naked ass, and pull him deeper, wondering what it would feel like in his hands. He moaned at the thought, causing Charles to jerk his hips forward. TJ looked back up at him as he swallowed around him again.

Watching Charles fall apart for him, from just his mouth, filled TJ with pride, it excited him. He wanted more, he wanted Charles to fuck him over the desk, he wanted to sit in his lap, he wanted to be in his bed. He wasn’t sure how far this might go, but he’d blown him before, and every time it made him rock hard, and Charles would cup his face and brush his cheek and tell him how much of a slut he was, on his knees getting hard without being touched. TJ loved it. 

Charles’ hand found it’s way into TJ’s hair and tugged, TJ moaning around his cock at the slight pain. Harder. He doubled his efforts and was rewarded with the hand clenching, pulling deliciously on his hair, digging his own fingers into his professor’s thighs. Charles groaned, leaning his head back and bucking further into TJ’s mouth.

“You and that mouth, it’s so goddamn good. You like when I use it, don’t you. That’s why you keep showing up late for my class. You just want me to fuck your pretty mouth like this.” TJ whined around him, saliva starting to run down his chin. He was sure he looked like a mess, but Charles’ words were making him hot, so hot, his hips started jerking too, wishing he had some friction to relieve himself.

He glanced up at Charles and moaned again at the sight. Cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes closed. His usually well-styled hair had fallen loose, a few strands falling into his face, and TJ longed to run his hands through that caramel hair. When Charles spoke, his voice was a deep, gravelly tremor that shot straight to TJ’s gut, but seeing him sitting there panting, almost on the edge of orgasm, it made TJ desperate to cum too. He wanted to beg for it, but it was impossible with his mouth full. So he just whined, shifting at Charles’ feet, gripping his thighs again.

“Oh yeah baby, there it is, keep going, you wanna come too? My dumb little slut, on his knees just begging for it. So fucking good, come on, ah!” TJ sucked hard at Charles’ words, feeling a heat rush through him and he bucked his hips, nearly cumming untouched, as Charles came with a groan, straight down TJ’s throat.

He couldn't help the ways his hips rolled while he curled his tongue, still sucking gently, his cock painfully hard, while Charles rode out his orgasm. TJ wanted it too, moaning around him, the sight of this gorgeous man getting off making TJ hot beyond words. He couldn't wait to get his own hands on himself, fueled by thoughts of what he wanted Charles to do to him. Lost in the fantasy, he was quickly pulled out of his daze by Charles' low voice, and he blinked up at him with glassy eyes while licking up the last of his release.

“Look at you. I’m starting to think this is more of a reward for you rather than a punishment. That just won’t do anymore, rewarding you for being late.” Then he leaned forward, gripping TJ’s chin and wiping the mess from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, his words sending a delicious chill down TJ's spine. “If you ever want this again, I suggest you be a good boy and show up on time for my class."

* follow @nano--raptor-writes​ for my taglist! *

[janiedean]

First off, I'm a HUGE fan of I'll be the frosting to your cupcake, one of the first fics I reread and a comfort fic staple of mine from the on.

Having said that, I recently learned English isnt your first language, and I'm shook. How do you write in such a flowy ample vocabulary precise english? Are you half British or sth? Have you live outside of Italy? What's your secret? What are your tips, please help a sister in need!

first of all thank you so much you're too kind ;v; and I'm really happy that it's been... ALMOST TEN YEARS and it still holds up ;v;

that said hahaha well I'M VERY HAPPY I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY MASTERED THE POWER OF NOT MAKING IT KNOWN ENGLISH IS NOT MY MOTHER TONGUE MUAHAHAH but in all seriousness:

no I'm not half british, my aunt was a high school english teacher but that was it and she definitely didn't speak english to me growing up beyond giving me the basics

no I haven't lived outside Italy just been on vacation in english speaking places so those two guesses aren't correct but

take into account that I'm 33 and I started learning english srsly when I was like twelve and I started writing in english when I was.... nineteen going on twenty so the way I write now is because I pretty much wrote in english nonstop since then, obviously whatever I wrote in 2007 had a worse vocabular/wasn't as good as it is now so count that a lot of that is practice

now basically i know it'll sound like ARE YOU SERIOUS but: I learned first translating songs by hand which meant I spent two years with a vocabulary translating bruce springsteen's and bon jovi's opera omnia that I had booklets for (YES THE INTERNET WAS ON 56K I HAD THE DAMNED LYRIC BOOKLETS RIP) and that.. I mean it didn't give me the widest vocab ever but it got me started, and then I jumped the bridge and started reading in english at.... eh I was 15 but like I got into stephen king, read a few of his books in italian, then got one I already had in italian in english for kicks and realized it... was better not translated so I swallowed the whole OH GOD I WON'T UNDERSTAND 1/5TH OF THE WORDS thing and went for it and like I can 100% assure you that if you get through the dark tower's second book and the indecent level of nyc slang in it you won't ever go back

(then being a masochist I went straight for steinbeck and if you manage the grapes of wrath at the level I was you're good X°D)

now like... that shows because every single time I take english tests like HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE WORDS/WHAT IS YOUR WORDING CHOICE/WHAT DOES YOUR WRITING SOUND LIKE I without fail get as results that I pronounce like someone from new jersey/pennsylvania and I use words like someone from maine and that I read like king which... LIKE I LEARNED 95% OF MY ENGLISH on all of that so that makes sense

now the thing is after king I basically went like okay if that writer's english or writes in english I'm not checking the translations so basically I've read in english for twenty years and like... if you want to write you have to read and like I swear that when I was in high school I didn't need to open grammar books beyond the basics or actually study english at all bc having actually read stuff I like... having seen the word/expressions used on paper meant I knew how to use them so there was that but like the point is that if you read a lot your vocabulary automatically gets wider and if you see how published people you like write that helps you too because it gives you the background, makes you see how people break the rules etc

with this I mean... like you know everyone is like YOU HAVE TO WRITE SHORT SENTENCES IN ENGLISH UNLESS YOU'RE A CLASSICAL AUTHOR OR YOU'RE WRONG? okay like I always struggled with it bc I tend to be long-winded, then one day I ran into michael chabon who not only has the kind of refined vocab I can only dream of, but he also has no issue dropping six-lines long sentences (or a 12 pages stream of consciousness of a parrot without a dot bless him) and he won a pulitzer prize and while I am certainly not michael chabon and I can only dream of being 10% as good when it comes to that mix of craft, if he can do that then who stops me from six-lines sentences? yeah, no one XD

and I mean like... just to say one re how you re-elaborate things, the whole thing I do with using parentheses on another new line to say how characters are feeling or switch pov for a moment etc etc is a thing I absolutely lifted from king bc when I read him doing it I decided it was genius, but like at some point I started doubling or tripling the parentheses if I wanted to show what someone was thinking superficially and subconsciously which is a thing king doesn't do but at some point it happened and I liked it so I did it, and that's like the only conscious example I can give you but like you develop your style also based on what you like reading and what comes easy to you but that's things you find out through practice and again... if you like specific writers most likely it'll show up in your writing but that's fine everyone has their role models

also like... I personally don't gaf if supposed english tradition says I can't do something I'd do writing in italian ie abusing semicolons and long-winded sentences, like... if you're good at specific thing that your language allows and english doesn't don't gaf and write it in english anyway who cares

tldr the tips are: read a lot in english, consume a lot of media in english, practice a lot because you get better/get the hand of it with time (again if you read my lost fanfic on lj written in 2008-2011 it's nowhere near the same level as what I write now but not even the stuff I wrote in my spn days is at the level I am now etc), read a lot also in your own language or in any other you know, write as much as you can, if you feel like you're copying your favorite writer don't gaf and go ahead anyway at some point you'll sound like you and not like whoever your fave writer is and be constant because again 50% is reading a lot and 50% is practice, I know it sounds like the discovery of hot water but I swear I managed that without living anywhere else and only reading/writing/talking to people on the internet so... it does work X°D

<3

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

So, for some reason, I got a wild hair up my ass to analyze Pyro in terms of the seven deadly sins.  Maybe because I’m still working on a post about all the times that Pyro is an asshole, which I’ll probably post someday.  There’s probably some fandom meme about this, anyway.  But, anyway, let’s go ahead and get pretentious and overly analytical.

Pride:

Uh…..yeah.  Very yes. I think the dude who routinely challenges Storm, and who, even at his best, is a cocky show-off who makes giant flame animals that basically scream “Look at meeeeeee!” has got some issues with pride. Pyro thinks very highly of his powers, and presumably himself, and damn it, he wants attention!

Not to mention, he basically runs away from Krakoa because he realized he wasn’t as special as he thought he was:

 (To be fair, I’d also be pretty disturbed if it turned out that I was brought back to life mostly as a test-run.)

We also see Pyro getting angry over being humiliated.  I think pride means a lot to him. 

 I also think pride played a role in some of Pyro’s redemptive actions while he was sick.  I’m sure part of it was questioning his own actions, but I think there was an element there of not wanting to be useless, not wanting to fade away and die in a hospital bed, wanting to die in a memorable way that leaves a mark on the world.  I mean, he lures Daredevil into a fight hoping to kill or be killed, so that he won’t die of illness, and he can make a name for himself.  I think maybe some of Pyro’s motivation for his time in the Brotherhood is fame or notoriety.  Whether for good or bad, he wants to be remembered, and apparently being a best-selling novelist isn’t good enough.

Wrath:

I think it’s safe to say that Pyro has some anger issues, which I think drive his viciousness in battle: 

He seems to get nastiest when he’s been humiliated in some way (he literally wants to kill Yellowjacket, for example), and when he’s afraid for his life.  I mean, his anger above is a reaction to Exodus and the Acolytes dangling a Legacy Virus cure in front of his face, then screwing him over.  To give another example, Pyro’s killing of Veil of the Iraqi mutant group Desert Sword, one of his worst moments, also happens during a battle in which one of his team-mates has been decapitated, another has lost a limb, and he and Blob are on their own against a team that’s actively trying to kill them.  I think Pyro gets very angry when he gets stressed or frightened, and that translates into brutality in battle.  (Not that this excuses anything – it was really horrible the way he killed Veil.)

Pyro also seems quick to lose his temper, especially when clashing with Blob. 

 (Interestingly, both of these exchanges happen after Blob insults Mystique as team leader.)  Maybe Pyro really just hates to see his female team-mates disrespected:

Sometimes Pyro is the sensible one while Avalanche gets riled up, but Pyro has flown off the handle plenty of times.  Dude could probably use some anger management therapy.      

Greed:

Based on his status as a criminal/mercenary for hire, I’d have to say yes.  His Marvel bio also states that he initially hid his powers because he couldn’t think of a way to make a profit off of them, which is very telling.

Generally, I think Pyro likes money.  He certainly does the way I write him, and he’s not above being bribed if something doesn’t conflict with his principles toooo much. And even though I write him as showing disdain towards the wealthy, I think he really enjoys and desires the finer things in life.  Hell, he’s the fanciest dressed of the Brotherhood when they make their first appearance, and really kind of a snob himself in the early days.

I will say, though, the greed thing is mostly an assumption, because lower-level lackeys like the Brotherhood are usually assumed to be driven by money.  We don’t actually know for sure if Mystique was paying her Brotherhood (although I’d assume they got a salary in Freedom Force later on).  Pyro actually rarely talks about money in the comics, so it’s not really clear how much he wants it.  He mostly goes after money in some of the later stories, and there he often has an ulterior motive.  When he gets shot robbing a bank and taken to Cecilia Reyes, he’s trying to pay for treatment for the Legacy Virus, not just money for money’s sake.  He’s also being paid to torch a warehouse full of evidence in a Daredevil comic, but that’s really more about wanting to lure Daredevil in for a battle to the death.  I don’t even know if Mystique is paying him when he helps assassinate try to save Graydon Creed.  She doesn’t mention it, and it seems more like he’s doing a favor for an old friend.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think Pyro is probably pretty greedy.  But it’s not illustrated that much in the comics.  He totally gambles with loaded dice, though.    

Lust:

Kinda maybe?  But also not really?  I mean the one hand, you have Exhibit A:

 (Pyro lusting over dream fantasy Jean Grey in Marauders)

On the other hand, you have Exhibit B:

(Pyro in the same book completely ignoring Tits-Out Emma Frost right next to him, and focusing on the defeated soldiers.)

Not to mention one Brotherhood flashback issue where Rogue flirts with Pyro and he brushes her off:

(Rogue, honey, no.  You can do so much better than him.)  

Honestly, we know very little about Pyro’s sex life or sexuality.  Another reason why I’m disappointed that no writer has had Pyro come out as gay in the Krakoa era – it would be very easy to do, with no retcon involved.  He almost never talks about sex or who he finds attractive.  There’s one scene in a Daredevil comic, in which Blob and Pyro have been sent to a small town to retrieve a mutant girl, in which they both comment on the girl’s attractiveness. (And it’s extremely gross, because the girl looks very underage the way she is drawn.)  But even then, Blob seems like the horny one, also getting distracted harassing a female bartender, while Pyro is more focused on the mission.

I dunno.  I personally headcanon Pyro as a horny, adventurous dude who is always down to fuck, but we really don’t get much of Pyro’s “desires” in the comics.  If nothing else, Pyro can clearly put lust aside to do his job, so I don’t think it’s much of a vice for him.  If anything, I think he enjoys flirting more for the attention he gets than because he really wants to get his dick wet. I also think he’s secretly more romantic than he lets on. 

Sloth:

Despite the very funny scene of Pyro snoozing on the beach in Savage Avengers:

I’m gonna say Nah on sloth.  I don’t think Pyro is a very lazy person.  For one thing, he’s actively choosing to work as part of Kate’s Marauders, and I don’t think most mutants on Krakoa actually have assigned jobs.  It seems like people are mostly left to their own devices, so Pyro could probably sleep on the beach all day, every day, and no one would care as long as he keeps out of trouble.  Instead, Pyro is an active part of a team, and seems quite happy with them.  I also think that St. John, as a journalist and novelist, probably had to be fairly driven and self-disciplined.  Not gonna get paid if you don’t finish the book! 

Envy:

Not really.  It seems like Pride and Greed would go hand-in-hand with envy, but we’ve never really seen Pyro compare himself with other mutants, or desire what they have (either in terms of powers or material possessions).  I think Pyro wants a lot of things out of life, but I think his desires are largely his own, not tied to anyone else.  Unless he’s envious of Emma’s massive wardrobe.  You know he could totally rock that lingerie. 

Gluttony:

For booze, yes.

For food, no.  I mean, the guy is stick-thin, and while there are skinny people out there that can put a lot away, Pyro doesn’t seem like someone who overeats.  Mostly a no on this one.  

And that about covers it.  I think Pyro is a man of many vices, but they are also fairly specific vices.  What’s the point of this?  I dunno, I just wanted to do it.  As a character study, I guess.

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 4 – A new day

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Chapter 4 - A new day

This is 1.8k words (approximately)

A while after overthinking it you closed your eyes and next thing you knew you were opening them at the sound of your alarm clock. Shit. ‘Should’ve sleept more’ was your first thought but then you remembered why you didn’t. You checked your phone. There was one text from “Tom Holland”, you just loved the quotation markes there, they reminded you of the mess it was your first interaction.

Did he really just Google-translated ‘beautiful’? And are you really swooning over that?

You got up from bed smiling like an idiot and went to get ready for the day. You were getting breakfast with David at the hotel so you had to hurry cause the Breakfast show begins at 7. It was supposed to be a bright sunny (and hot) summer day, which you knew was rare in London. But it was still a work commitment, so you decided on pants and maybe you could change before going to wherever you were going with Tom. Tom! Should you reply to him?

Ok. Play it cool. Now, focus on why you’re here in the first place, will you? You wore capri pants, a t-shirt tucked in with a belt and some stylish shoes. It looked cool, you were comfortable and that’s the best we can expect in a situation like this. No one’s expecting you to show up ready for a red carpet or anything like that anyway. You texted David and he was already downstairs getting some food, so you just went to meet him.

“Good morning” You greeted David at the buffet.

“Someone’s in a good mood. Good morning” He was in a good mood too, probably cause you’ll be going home today. Your good mood had nothing to do with that. If you’re honest, that was a reason for ruining your spirit.

“Uh-hum” You agreed.

“So, I was looking and I think I can change our tickets. You know, for earlier.” He told you as you were sitting in a table at the corner and you couldn’t help but look at him like he was saying something absurd. “Ok, you don’t look so happy about it.”

“No, I was just hoping to see the city today. You know, enjoy it a little bit before going back.” As you said that your phone lit up on the table, it was a text from Tom.

“The city. Right” David smirked at you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laughed at him and smiled when you saw the texts.

“Is that ok?” You heard David talking.

“Hum? Sorry?” You were smiling.

“Gosh I can’t with you. I said I might just change my own ticket, would that be ok with you?”

“Oh yeah! Go ahead. I’ll be fine. I have all my flight info.” He looked at you suspiciously.

“Just…please be in New York next week? The meeting is on Friday afternoon”

“What?” You laughed. “Of course I’ll be there. Why wouldn’t I?” He just shook his head and laughed at you.

You finished your breakfast and went back to the room to brush your teeth and get your stuff. 15 minutes later, you were in a cab with David going to the Radio One studios. On the way, you snapped a pic to send him, you know, keep the conversation going.

You rolled your eyes at him but still couldn’t help but agree.

The breakfast show was from 7 to 10 am, but your interview was not until 8 am. So you and David just hang out in the studio in the meantime. “The first hour is mainly for music”, the girl that welcomed you guys explained. Soon after, Greg James walked out to the little reception and greeted you and David. “Hey guys! Thank you for coming! I’m Greg, nice to meet you.” He offered.

“Hi! Thank you for having us! I’m (y/n), this is David.” You replied and gave him a quick hug.

“Hey! How’s it going?” David said and gave him a man’s hug/handshake. Boys.

“So this is basically standard, since it’s a live interview, I like to ask if there’s any topic you want to avoid or something you’d like to talk specially about?” He asked you.

“Oh…I don’t know. No? Just…let’s talk about how great the show is so people want to watch it and we can keep making more” You laughed.

“And it IS great! I’ve seen it, really loved. Congrats!”

“That’s kind of you. Thank you!”

“No problem, so…I guess I’ll just direct it towards the interviews you did, you can tell me some funny stories? Awkward ones preferably.”

“You got it! I’ll give you my worst embarrassment stories, you know, for the good of entertainment” You laughed.

--

A little while later you were sitting in the studio with Greg on the other side of the table. You told him about the show and some embarrassing stories as well.

“So, what are the plans now? Will we be seeing more seasons of the show? Maybe in other cities, London perhaps?”

“Well, I can’t say”

“Oh come on! Is Netflix the next Marvel on terms of keeping secrets?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know. I literally can’t say because I don’t know what the future looks like for us. It’s been so great to go out and talk about the show, and see how much people liked it but I’m kind of just enjoying while I can.”

“No! Don’t say that! They won’t let you get away like that!”

“I hope not! If they want us, I’m all in! I’d love to make 10 more seasons and in other cities, even! Can you imagine?"

“Now that’s more like it! Let’s make a deal, if Netflix don’t renew with you, BBC will take it!”

“Ok! Sure! Are you in charge of it?”

“No really, but that’s just a technicality” He laughed. “Alright, so we’ll play some music and when we come back we’re going to hear some unpopular opinions! Are you ready for it Ana?”

“Sure, yeah! I love the theme song, let’s do it!”

“Do you really? You listen to the show?”

“Yes! I really do, I’m a fan since when I was learning English! I genuinely love Radio 1”

“No way! Just for that, I’ll let you choose the next song"

--

When the song died over it was time for the game.

“Hey! If you need a job, you can just come work here with us as international music sommelier, what you think about it?”

“Oh don’t even joke. That’s my dream job, honestly!”

“It’s settled them” The interview was going really well, and it was almost ending. “Alright, so our time is almost over. Shall we hear some unpopular opinions and send you all to the weekend with a pinch of wrath?”

“Yes please! Let’s hear them” The theme song started to play and you sang along. “Come and give us your unpopular opinion, something up to know you’ve been scared to say”

“That was great! And in the first try! You really are a listener!”

“Told you!”

“Ok so, first on the line we have Maya. Hello Maya? What’s your unpopular opinion?”

“Calling people bestie is cringe” The girl on the line said.

“Uh agreed” You said.

“You agree with her?” Greg asked you.

“Yeah. If it’s not ironically, it’s very cringe. Like calling your husband hubby”

“To be fair, most pet names are cringe” Greg offered.

“True, very true. Hey, love is cheesy. Nothing wrong with that. People in love are just not cool, have you ever met a couple that was genuinely cool?”

“No, I have not. Well, I mean…the Beckhams are cool.”

“Uh good one. I stand corrected. But can you imagine Victoria calling Dave ‘hubby’ or the other spice girls ‘bestie’?”

“Definitely not.” You guys laughed together, you were just being silly. “Good one Maya! Alright, next call is Kyle. Hello Kyle?”

“Hi! Flat watered down soda tastes good.”

“What?” You yelped. “Are you ok, Kyle?”

“And that’s why we call this segment ‘unpopular opinions’” Greg laughed. “Do you want to defend yourself there Kyle?”

“Not really, I just prefer it like that.” Kyle said and you and Greg laughed.

“You know what Kyle? You keep doing you. You might want to try some juice or iced tea, though. But you do you man.” You joked and Greg cracked up.

“That was great, I love it!” Greg said. “That will be all for today, don’t forget to check (y/n)'s new show this weekend and spam Netflix about how much we need more seasons!! And bring (y/n) to London Netflix!”

“Oh my god I loved it! Thank you so much for having me, I had the best time!” You thanked him. Music started to play and you took off your headphones. “Thank you, really. I was great!” You said directly to Greg.

“Oh don’t thank me! I really hope we’ll see you more! Come back always to promote the next seasons and projects!” He offered.

You got out of the studio and greeted David. “That was so much fun!” You told him.

“You’re killing it there ! Mission accomplished, finally! Are you coming back to the hotel or are you meeting with ‘the city’ from here?” He asked you using air quotes for ‘the city’ and smirking.

“I’m coming back to the hotel, thank you very much.” You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was just teasing you.

Chapter 5 it's fluffly london date and it was so much fun writing it, can't wait for you to read!

[mhdiaries]

SDCC 2015 Djinni “Whisp” Grant Diary

⟡ ⧗ ⟡ ⧗

It’s amazing how different the world looks when you’re the one in charge of it. I don’t mean the whole world, of course, just the one that exists inside the lantern. Now, instead of criticizing - which I used to do a lot of - I have to actually be responsible. I think my first decision will be to return to my original shadow look because I want my unlife to change from the inside out, not the outside in. 

⟡ ⧗ ⟡ ⧗ ⟡ ⧗ ⧗

I think I still have a lot to learn about being a djinni; mostly because when I was “shadowing” Gigi, I didn’t pay very good attention to the things she was telling me about the job. I think my jealousy made me deaf to everything except what I wanted. So, now I have a lot of catching up to do. Good thing there’s an instruction book, and an even better thing that I have a lot of time on my hands since it’s a five thousand-volume set. At least it’s interesting... well, most of it is, anyway. The legal and warning sections are full of fine print that I’m sure would make any monster who needed sleep - which I don’t - go completely comatose. Something that I learned today, which I should have already known, is that the number of wishes a djinni can grant is based upon how many years they have been a servant of the lantern. I’m only allowed three to begin. I hope whoever finds me doesn’t feel like they’ve been ripped off. Hmmm... I wonder if I should say, “You only get three, don’t waste them.” Well, the next volume seems to be full of things a djinni can and cannot say, so I guess I will find out. Just hope it’s not in the fine print.

⃞ ⧗ ⧗

There is a clock and calendar on the wall of a small storeroom deep in the basement of the lantern palace. It is the only place inside the lantern where the passage of time is recorded. I used to go there when I was a shadow and watch the time pass when Gigi was out granting wishes. At first I thought it was fascinating, but over time my fascination turned to resentment as I watched the hours and days go by while Gigi was out seeing the world. Once, when she was gone, I got so angry I tore both the clock and calendar from the wall and destroyed them. I can’t believe I was such a.... brat. Somehow I thought this would make Gigi feel bad about not taking me with her when she left, but when Gigi returned and I led her down to the room so I could gloat over what I’d done, the clock and calendar were back as if I had never touched them. I look foolish, and felt worse. Gigi kindly told me that the clock and calendar used to be in her room, but she moved them to the basement because it made her feel lonely to see the time passing. She said that they were part of the lantern, and even though they could be moved, they could not be destroyed. I think that was the moment when I realized that I was a part of the lantern, too, and I began to wonder if one day Gigi would lock me away as well. That’s when I began plotting to overthrow her, take over the lantern, and then the world. Gigi, of course, would never have done that to me, but I guess that it just shows how much a shadow knows... 

⟡ ⃞ ⧗

I am on volume 1,753. This volume could be titled When Wishes Go Wrong, and in it I found a story about the perils of wishes made in anger called The Princess and the Captain. It’s about a vampire queen who uses her last wish to punish her youngest daughter who has fallen in love with the captain of the guard, a commoner. The queen, whose word was law and tolerated no questioning of it, is displeased by their affections and forbids them to ever be together. The princess argues that the captain is her one true love, but the queen is unmoved and not only strips the captain of his rank but threatens to have him banished from the kingdom forever. So the princess agrees to forsake the love of her unlife... yeah, right... and, of course, that doesn’t last long. They are soon found out and brought to the throne room.

Now the wrath of the queen was great and she ordered her djinni’s lantern be brought to her. He was the oldest and wisest of all the lantern djinn and had been in the queen’s service for a thousand years. 

“Ninety and nine wishes have I granted you oh queen, and there is but one yet left,” said the djinni.

“Listen well, then, servant of the lantern. Since my daughter and my former captain of the guard understand neither the nature of obedience nor the unbridgeable gulf between royalty and those of common birth, I wish them to be forever obedient and forever apart!”

“But my queen....” said the djinni.

“Would you disobey me as well?” she raged.

“Be it then as you wish,” replied the djinni.

The the djinni clapped his hands and there was smoke, a flash of light and the sound of massive iron doors swinging open and then closing with a deafening crash. When the smoke cleared, the princess and the captain were gone, and in their place two lanterns stood... a hand’s width apart from each other. 

“Forever obedient - forever apart,” said the djinni and with those final words, both he and the lanterns disappeared.

The rest of the story tells how the vampire queen, being filled with remorse, leaves the throne and spends her unlife searching for her daughter’s lantern. There are, however, two footnotes at the end of the story. The first reads.

While any djinni old enough and powerful enough to have accumulated 100 wishes could have certainly fulfilled the “letter of the wish” by turning the princess and the captain into djinn, the queen’s wish never specifies whom they should be obedient to or apart from; thus it is just as likely that the princess and captain of the guard were made forever obedient to the love of the other, and forever apart from the queen herself.

The second footnote reads,

If, however, the princess and the captain were indeed both turned into lantern djinn, then the queen herself is probably still looking, because you do not find a lantern. It finds you.

7th of July

Today my lantern was found and I was summoned for the very first time! I thought that I would be ready when it happened, but I was completely taken by surprise. In fact, I had just put my hair up in a towel and was getting ready to apply a beauty mask when a voice thundered through the inside of the lantern, “You are summoned!” Note to self: find preference settings and change voice from an “In a world...” kind of intonation to something less ominous. Anyway, I put on my “game face”, took a deep breath, and hoped the monster I was about to be serving wouldn’t be able to tell that I was nervous. Guess I shouldn’t have worried too much about that, because when I said, “I am the djinni of the lantern, what is your wish?” the monster who summoned me almost fainted. He is a vampire... of sorts... and by his clothes it looks like he’s seen better days. He didn’t wish for anything tonight, so I suppose I’ll have to wait before I am allowed to grant my first wish. Now I’m more excited than nervous.  

8th of July

“You are summoned!” I thought I had it fixed, but now the voice sounds like a zombie using “baby talk”, so instead of ominous it’s just irritating. More importantly, I finally got to talk to the monster who is currently in possession of my lantern. His name is Kieran Valentine, and much like me he is trying to keep his present and future from being defined by his past. We talked for hours and I think that even without wishing for one, I’ve found a friend. It was good to be able to talk about what we’d each done in the past and not feel condemned. I think going forward it will help to know that we’ll both be cheering the other on to succeed. Speaking of wishes, he still hasn’t made one yet... but I’m good with that. 

10th of July

“You are summoned!” Ack! No, I’m right out on it blasting through the lantern like an opera singer. It still needs work, I may not have learned everything I should have from Gigi, but one thing I did pay a lot of attention to was the way that wishes work. When a djinni grants a wish, a force is released: a force so powerful that it can remake the very fabric of reality in order to fulfil its purpose. It is also a force that needs specific instructions or else it will interpret what you’ve wished for, and sometimes the results get lost in translation. Sadly, I am not allowed to give hints or coach monsters in how or what they should wish. It isn’t that I don’t want to: it’s that I physically can’t. Gigi one told me that she tried to tell a monster how to word a wish and her mouth literally closed shut and wouldn’t open until after the wish was granted. So, all that to say, I knew that KV’s first wish was not going to turn out how he hoped it would. I’m just happy that he had a “rescue wish” left, otherwise...

12th of July

I really feel bad for KV. He’s already used up two of his three wishes with nothing to show for it. I tried to tell him how sorry I was but he wouldn’t even listen. He even said it was completely his fault, and that I had nothing to be sorry for. I really hope he thinks hard about his last wish.

1st of August

“You are summoned!” Ooh, I like this version. It sounded like I was being called to the front door to meet an old friend. I’ll keep it. KV used his last wish today. He wished that we could always be friends. I think that would have come true regardless of whether or not he wished for it, but I thought it was so unselfish of him to use his last wish like that. I wasn’t exactly sure how it was going to be fulfilled until I was holding my very own iCoffin with KV’s number programmed into it. The best thing, thought, was that I had full bars everywhere I went inside the lamp! Being able to have a friend to talk to even when I’m inside the lantern is so much more than even I could have wished for.

[jooniperhun]

The End of the Rainbow | ot7 (1)

pairing: tall!black!reader x bts, poc!reader x bts, woc!reader x bts, black!reader x bts

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to (maybe) lovers [later], romance [later], comedy, misunderstandings [later], (slight) angst [later], smut (maybe??) [later], idol!au

rating: PG-14

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing

notes: the boys won’t make an appearance until chapter 2 but there is some foreshadowing in there (hint hint); pretend that corona never happened; most of the geographical locations/distances will either be made up or not named because I’ve never been to Korea lol whoops; this reads more like a reader-insert sorry that’s my default writing setting; and the boys’ backstories and such won’t be all that accurate because I’m the author and I say so teehee :)

“Text like this is spoken in Korean.”

“Text like this is spoken in English.”

summary: Your current job as a travelling housesitter has taken you to many places, some strange and many wonderful. When the acquisition of a new client takes you to Korea for three months, you wonder if your self-esteem can survive being around so many other-worldly looking people. Also, not to be paranoid or anything, but maybeperhaps you’re being stalked by the same seven strangers? They’re pretty loud and always surrounded by a tonne of people, so you write it off the first few times.

But this shit is getting excessive, chile. And annoying…

Rhetorical question, but what lies at the end of a rainbow? You hope that it’s a pot of gold, but with the way that your luck has soured, it might just be seven short(er than you), rowdy leprechauns ready to flip your world sideways…

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

Usually, when it came to social outings, ___ would go out of her way to make sure that she looked her best. Her wild mane would be tamed, her makeup would be carefully, painstakingly applied, and her clothes wouldn’t hold a single wrinkle. This, however, isn’t ‘usually’— this is an airport, and ___ currently couldn’t find it within herself to give a single, flying fuck about her appearance after the flight that she had just had. 

That isn’t to say that it was terrible— she was flying first class, for Christ’s sake! Not to mention that she didn’t have to spend a single dime on it (excluding the multiple new outfits and lashes that she purchased for herself because if she was anything, it was slightly vain). But a roughly 18 hour flight, combined with slight motion sickness? It doesn’t matter how comfortably she had dressed, or how attentive the flight attendants were, or how delicious the food was— ___ walked off of the landing strip probably looking exactly as she felt (read: terrible). 

Luckily, the good thing about airports was that she wasn’t the only one. No one paid her any mind, too worried about themselves and finding their respective luggages and families to be giving some rando more than a passing glance. 

She was officially in Seoul, South Korea, and she couldn’t read a damn thing.

Okay— slight exaggeration. Most of the signs had English (and Spanish, and Chinese, and Japanese) translations beneath the larger blocks of Korean, but her damn near-blind ass missed that the first time around. 

The airport looked as airports tended to look— large, modern, and clean. There was a beautiful netting of glass in the ceiling that let gentle rays of sunlight in. The walls were similarly comprised of the netting design and slanted outwards, away from all of the passengers. Statues and abstract constructions divided the masses. People from all walks of life milled around, looking for their luggage or anxiously waiting for their plane to arrive.

Incheon International Airport, Terminal One, Flight DL27. ___ reminded herself over and over of the number of where she would go for Baggage Claim, scanning the area and mumbling slightly to herself. She adjusted her dark shades and hefted her purse (her only carry-on) higher onto her shoulders, following the crush of fellow passengers into the depths of the fragile looking place. 

There were a lot of people walking around with black facemasks and shades on, so she was glad that she wasn’t the only shady-looking sista walking around. Inwardly snorting at her own pun, ___ nearly walked past her destination. 

It was honestly this part of each trip that gave her the most anxiety— that is, waiting for her suitcase to come around on the conveyor belt.

She had heard and read multiple horror stories about too many passengers never recovering their luggage. Either stolen, lost, or dropped from the airplane itself— if it could go wrong, it went wrong. But it’s not like hers’ is particularly interesting to look at. It was a simple, standard black. Only a red, knotted ribbon tied around the handle marked it as her own.

Ten minutes of fretful bag checking later, ___ finally found it. She gave a silent sigh of relief and turned towards the exit. Then, her anxiety flared right back up when she realized that she would have to hail a taxi to get to her destination. 

Honestly, her people-meter was getting a little bit too full for her to actually be initiating direct human interaction right now. 

But she would persevere! Even if her persistence could use a bit of work, she’s faked confidence enough times to make it. 

Getting a taxi to stop for her was like pulling teeth. By the time that she had stuffed her menial baggage into the trunk and clambered into the front seat, her temper had risen a few notches. She’s had a long two days. The flight wasn’t kind on her stomach or her sleep schedule— not to mention the fact that she felt disgusting. A shower sounded so nice right now… She didn’t want to be on the streets any longer than she had to be, dammit!

Donning her ‘Customer Service’ voice (as she liked to call it), she politely rattled off her destination to the driver in Korean. He was on the younger side for the profession (at least, from what she’s seen), with neatly laid dark hair and slightly tanned skin. His dark eyes constantly shifted from the road to her when they were stopped for traffic, but he luckily seemed to sense her mood as he did not say anything more than the polite initial greeting. 

All in all, it was a 30 minute drive filled with determinedly unawkward silence. ___ sent a quick text to her employer to inform them that she would be at the house in a bit, then sent another to her mother to let her know that she touched down safely. Almost immediately, her phone began to buzz.

Rolling her eyes, ___ answered. “Good morning to you too, Ma.” She said as her full lips tilted up in amusement. Upon hearing the English, the driver sent another glance in her direction.

“Hey, baby! It’s night time for us right now (we just got finished eating dinner). How was your flight?” Her mother’s voice gave a slightly tinny echo as she spoke, and the sound of shifting fabric clued ___ in to the fact that she, indeed, was probably on the toilet.

“Tiring. I forgot to buy Dramamine, so it was a fun time for me.” She switched hands with her phone so that she could look out of her window more comfortably. Little snatches of the city flashed by before they turned into a slightly more residential area. The houses here were large and gated, yet closely located. “How is everyone doing? No-one dead yet, right?”

Her mother snorted. “Yet is correct. Turns out, ya’ sister got herself a lil boyfriend—” ___ had to stifle her laugh before she gave herself away, “— and ya’ daddy wasn’t too happy when he found out. Her fast ass is sitting in her room right now, phone taken and everything. Woulda’ gotten an ass whoopin if we found anything triflin’ in it, but she’s clean.” Yeah, only because of her advice. No sending nudes back and forth, no secret folders dedicated to trifling shit, and no conversations going further than normal teen-girl gossip. Those were her three cardinal rules to sneaking around with a boy, and it seems that her little sister had done well to heed them.

“And the lil’ boy? Anyone we know?” ___ asked, playing along. If her parents found out she already knew about him, her ass would be grass, too. 

“Yes!” Ma exclaimed frustratedly. The driver jumped at the sudden loud sound in the otherwise silent car. “That nigga, Devin. Lives a block down from us? You know the one.” She gave the appropriate gasp at the news while rolling her eyes. Devin was a sweet boy who had a good future ahead of himself. There was no goddamn way she would waste her painstakingly gathered advice on someone who wasn’t good for her sister.

“Dam— I mean, wow. You think you know the people you live around...” She caught herself quickly before she cursed. Even halfway across the world, her fear of her ma’s wrath was still very, very healthy.

“I heard that, but I’ll let it slide this time.” Her mother’s tone was amused despite her previous outrage. 

“Anyways, as I was saying… I don’t see anything wrong with Devin. He was a nice boy, last time I talked to him.” From the cover of her shades, ___ watched the driver watch her from the corner of his eye. The car began to slow.

“Tell that to ya’ daddy. He—” Ma began to rant as ___ pulled the phone away from her ear. 

“How much do I owe you?” She asked quietly, hands dropping to rummage through her purse for her wallet as she cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder. “—Alright, Ma. Imma have to call you back. We just pulled up to the house and I gotta get situated.”

Handing the driver the appropriate amount of Won, they both left the car to remove her luggage from his trunk. “Okay, sweetie. Love you! Call me again when you get settled in.” Her mother echoed as she mouthed a quick ‘Thank you,’ with a shallow bow.

“Gotcha. Love you, too! Bye.” She hung up and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, making it extend before dragging it behind her towards the house that they had stopped in front of.

She couldn’t really see anything past the high, brick walls and iron gate. Spotting an intercom, she quickly checked her reflection in her phone’s camera before she could press the button to call her employer.

Removing her silk head-scarf, she found that her high puff had held up reliably under it. She quickly stuffed it into her purse and pulled out her glasses case to place her shades in. Shoving that back in, too, she smoothed out her black jeans and checked for stains on her yellow top. It was only after assuring that her face was, indeed, clean that she rang the buzzer.

A red light blinked on before a voice answered. So there was a security camera for surveillance? Good. “Good morning! You must be ___, right?” Her voice was smooth and low, like velvet. It hinted towards an older age, especially when compared to the commonly high pitched tones of the youth.

“Yes, good morning.” ____ stepped back slightly to bow. The gate unlocked with a soft click, and she made her way up the driveway. She could only see one car at the moment, but from the size of the house— no, mansion—, she was sure that a lot more were probably in the garages (yes, plural).

The mansion was a modern white with a lot of windows to let in natural light. The lawn was cleanly cut and the rich, emerald grass shined with small droplets of morning dew. There was actually a surprising amount of yard space, which was ideal for pets and children. The only thing that she would be needing to worry about this trip was a dog and some plants, though.

Little solar-powered lights lined the walkway that ___ walked down. They looked nothing like the one-dollar versions from the Dollar Store, and definitely cost a lot more, too. She climbed a few stone steps to reach the porch. On either side of a dark-wooded door, two gold vases stood guard. They were almost as tall as her and intricately carved with little, delicate flowers. The welcome mat that she stood upon was a sensible dark brown and had a looping Welcome swirled across the front in white. 

She rang the doorbell and patiently waited.

A few moments passed before the door sprung open. The lady that answered was small and adorable in her old age. Her dark hair was sprinkled with white streaks, and her large, dark eyes were creased with laugh lines. The same lines were also wrinkled around her mouth, but they did not take away from the traditional beauty that she still held. Her cheeks were rounded and scattered with pink, and her skin was the color of milk. She was dressed in a fashionable black pantsuit and wore black pumps that boosted her height. 

“Good morning!” ___ bowed lowly with a sweet smile. Her eyes, large and slightly too round to truly be almond shaped, disappeared into crescents. With her face transformed so cutely by just a single smile, one would find it hard to believe that ___ had a mean, mean resting bitch face that, when combined with her not inconsiderable height, gave her a naturally intimidating demeanor.

Endeared, the woman bowed back. “Please, come in.” She invited, stepping aside and letting ___ and her suitcase drag in. 

***

She was still getting situated in the guest room when the door slowly creaked open.

Though she couldn’t see anything from where she was seated on the bed, the tell-tale pattern of claws clicking against the hardwood floor cued her in to who was entering— Mickey, a cute, little Shih-Tzu breed with floppy ears and a brown and white coloring. Despite the fact that he was male, Mickey had two tiny, powder-blue bows woven around his ears. His matching sweater creased slightly as he padded towards her.

“Hi, sweetie!” ___ cooed, reaching down to give him a gentle pat on the head, “Are you looking for some company now that Grandma isn’t in?” 

Mickey had been (surprisingly) very calm upon his introduction towards ___. He barely reacted (outside of a few weak wags of his fluffy tail) to her squealings of how cute he was. Perhaps it was behavior that he was used to.

He settled down onto the carpet next to her bed, the ideal spot for her to reach down and pet him if she wanted to. It was a good move on his part, because that was exactly what she wanted to do. 

___ was a huge dog lover— in fact, she just loved cute, fluffy animals in general. Cats, llamas, sheep— you name it. She tolerated reptiles, and if she had to handle insects, it was usually with gloves and a healthy bit of distance. 

The moral of the story is that she adored fur-babies, and until Mickey’s owner came to pick him up or his Grandma came back home, Mickey was her dog.

a/n: Thank you all for reading the first chapter! I really hope you liked it. The fun stuff starts next chapter, so please stay tuned! I have so much planned *evil laughter*

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 2

Title: the duplicate

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: I know the twins (or anyone from Hyogo for that matter) have a very specific accent, but I have a bit of trouble translating that into my writing, so I hope you guys can still use and hear that accent when you read their dialogue!

Previous///Next

It’s been a little over a week since you’ve started working at Onigiri Miya, and thankfully, things have been going well. There have only been a handful of problematic customers, but you were able to handle them quite efficiently, much to Osamu’s satisfaction. You’ve even been able to get acquainted with your boss much more since it’s only the two of you working long shifts together. You can definitely say that things have been working out really well at your job.

Today is another typical day for you as you walk towards the entrance of the shop, ready to start another day of work. You had actually left your apartment a lot earlier than usual, so you were a bit surprised to see that the door was already unlocked since Osamu usually arrives on the dot. You’re a little concerned that you might’ve jumbled up your alarm this morning and was actually late, but your phone displayed the right time. Not wanting to prolong your anxiety, you slide open the door and meet an unexpected sight. 

Sitting at the counter is a man who looks like a carbon copy of your boss but with blonde hair. He’s sporting a mustard-colored tracksuit and is carrying a confident aura.

“Miya-san?”

The stranger looks up and makes eye contact with you. There’s a brief air of silence before he breaks out into a wide grin. “Oh! Hey, new girl!” 

Not knowing how to respond, you just lift your hand awkwardly. “Um...hi?”

“I heard from a friend of mine that ‘Samu hired a new worker.” The blonde runs a hand through his hair. “Didn’t think you’d be such a cutie though.”

Before you even had time to react, your boss walked out of the storage room with a bag of rice on top of his shoulder. “‘Sumu, you got rice all over your chin.”

Miya Atsumu flushes red from embarrassment and proceeds to grab a napkin to clean his face. Now that you’re paying more attention to your surroundings, you notice that there’s an empty plate on top of the counter and you can assume that Osamu gave him food prior to your arrival.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that this is your brother.” You shrug off your jacket as you walk further into the building and address Osamu casually.

“What gave it away? The nose or the ears?” Osamu jokingly teases as he shoves the bag of rice off his shoulders to one of the lower shelves. 

“You never told me you had a twin,” you respond with an equally playful tone.

“Never asked.”

You briefly glance to check the clock on the wall. “You’re here pretty early. Did I miss something?”

Your boss shook his head as he straightened up. He then pointed towards his brother who was just watching you two converse with intrigued eyes. “Nah. He’s here to eat something before practice and wouldn’t stop nagging me to make him something, which is why I’m here earlier than I should be, sleep deprived and all.”

“Sounds like you had a rough morning,” you laughed.

“Um, hello? I’m still here,” Atsumu interjected with a slightly sassy tone. “By the way, I didn’t catch your name, and your boss kept telling me to figure it out myself.”

You take a mental note at how petty your boss could be with his brother and stifle a laugh. “It’s (Surname) (Name).”

The corners of Atsumu’s mouth lifted upward. “Glad I could finally put a name to your face, (Name)-chan.”

Okay, you were definitely not used to someone calling you by your first name in such a casual manner, so you couldn’t stop yourself from getting a bit flustered. This did not go unnoticed by both twins, their eyes taking in the pink tint on your cheeks.

Not wanting to expose yourself any more than you already have, you look away and head towards the back room. “I’m just gonna go get ready really quick!”

Once you’ve put your things down and secured the apron around your waist, you walked back to the main room. The brothers have occupied themselves with other things in the meantime. Atsumu is scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, while Osamu is prepping the display case to get ready to open soon. You figured you should stay productive too and make your way to the fridge. You peek inside through the glass door and notice that there’s a shortage in beverages. 

“Miya-”

You’re at a loss of words when both brothers set their gazes on you once again.

“Atsumu’s fine by me, sweetheart.” The blonde man smirks at your conflicted expression.

“Stop flirting with my employee. And, she wasn’t talking to you, you scrub.” Osamu sighed and brushed his hands on his thighs before turning his body to face you. “What’s up?”

“I think we forgot to pick up some drinks yesterday.” You pointed towards the bare shelves in the fridge. There were a couple green teas and carbonated drinks, but it definitely wasn’t enough to last the rest of the day. The last thing you’d want to do is disappoint any of the customers.

“Ah, shoot. You’re right. I was supposed to take care of that last night.” Your boss looks up at the clock and sees that there’s still some time before you have to open. “I’ll head out and bring those in really quick. You think you can babysit this guy for a bit?”

“Hey! I’m not a little kid!”

“Yup! Leave it to me!”

“Woah, woah! Hold up now!”

Completely ignoring his brother’s protests, Osamu leaves the shop in your hands to bring in the drinks from a convenience store a couple blocks down. This left you and Atsumu in each other’s company for the time being. Not really having much to do until the drinks come in, you just position yourself in front of the register as usual, checking to see if everything is set up correctly. Atsumu seems to take this as his cue to have a one-on-one chat with you. 

“So, what’d you do to get the job? Bribe? Save a life? Cast a spell?”

You tilt your head in confusion and blink once. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Atsumu raises his arms in emphasis. “‘Samu doesn’t just let anyone work here. This place is practically his child. Protects it at all costs. It’s the reason why it’s just been him for so long even though it can get pretty busy around here”

“Oh, uh, I just applied and he accepted me.” You would be lying if you said that you weren’t surprised when you found out that he was the only other worker when you got the job.

“Interesting…”

Feeling a bit uncomfortable over how Atsumu was practically trying to analyze you and borderline interrogate you, you try to switch topics. “Seems like you know your brother pretty well.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of inevitable when we share the same face. Although, I personally think I am the more good-looking twin.”

You sweatdropped. “Well, despite the way you look, you guys are definitely different in a lot of ways.”

“For sure! Sometimes we can be complete opposites!” Atsumu nods his head in agreement.

“Does that mean you’re a bad cook?” You take this opportunity to tease the blonde, but start to regret it after you see a competitive glint in his eyes.

“No way! I’m a great man in the kitchen! Just watch! I’m gonna whip up an onigiri that’s on par with that fool!” Atsumu stands up from his stool and marches over to the other side of the counter.

“That’s probably not a good ide-”

“Relax! I got this!” Famous last words.

As soon as Atsumu was in reach of anything on the work space, all hell broke loose. As he placed some sticky rice into his hands, his elbow knocked over an entire container of sesame seeds, while his other arm ripped a couple sheets of nori* during his attempt to catch the tumbling seeds. A couple eggs fell out of a carton that Osamu had left aside due to the ruckus, painting the floors with yolk, and somehow the rice on Atsumu’s palm had ended up splattering onto his chin. 

You watched everything unfold with distressed shock. “What are you doing?! Are you trying to get me fired?!”

“I didn’t mean to do that, I swear!” The clumsy man just furrowed his brows as he frantically tried to stop anything else from going wrong. Trying your best to calm him down and avoid making more of a mess, you closed the distance between you and held onto his forearms.

“Hey, calm down, or you might trigger something else. Let’s just clean this quickly before your brother comes back or we’re both good as dead.”

That surely got Atsumu’s attention and the two of you quickly began to clean up the mess. You grabbed the nearest cleaning cloth, while he took a hold of the trash can. In just a matter of minutes, the workstation was already starting to look as neat as it was before. If it wasn’t such a ridiculous situation, you could honestly say that you and him were a pretty good team when faced with Osamu’s potential wrath. 

It wasn’t until you were finished sanitizing the counter space did you notice the pieces of rice that were stuck on Atsumu’s face. “Hey, you still have some rice on your face.”

“Again?” He tries to wipe off his face with a napkin like he did before, while he occasionally asks you if he got everything. You point out the ones he misses, but he keeps missing one rice grain on the corner of his mouth. 

Feeling a bit impatient, you lean towards Atsumu and he stiffens his movements. “Here, let me help. Hold still.”

You cup his cheek with your fingers to make sure he doesn’t move. Using your other hand, you gently remove the last rice piece, your fingers lightly brushing over his bottom lip unintentionally. Atsumu just stays completely quiet as you do wonders to his poor heart. He even unconsciously leans into your touch, but you’re too focused on the task at hand to notice.

“Got it.” You give him a triumphant smile, but falter as you notice Atsumu’s expression which held a certain softness to it with something else you can’t quite pinpoint.

Atsumu snaps out of his trance when you let go of his cheek and his entire face heats up, red crawling up to the tips of his ears. You pull away and discard the rice into the trash.

“T-t-thanks.”

Atsumu quickly turns his back towards you and wipes a small smudge on one of the containers, willing his heart to calm down from its fast beating. You think he’s acting a bit strange, but brush it off for now.

The only thing left to clean was the sticky floor. You’re about to mop up the egg remnants when you hear a voice call for your name at the front of the restaurant. “Hey, (Surname)-san! Can you open the door? My hands are kind of full.”

You and Atsumu look at each other with wide eyes, both realizing that you haven’t finished cleaning and Osamu was right outside the door. You hunch over and Atsumu mirrors you. Cue the furious whispering.

“What do we do?!”

“What do you mean, what do we do?! We gotta scrub the floor clean until he sees it!”

“But, he’s right outside!”

“Well you better figure something out, ‘cause if I don’t open that door right now, he’s gonna get suspicious!”

With that, you straightened up and made your way to the entrance, making sure to take your time with each step. You hear quite a bit of shuffling behind you but choose to pray that everything will work out. Once you reach the door, you slide it open for Osamu to enter. He was holding three boxes of drinks, the bulging veins in his arms indicated how heavy they were. 

“You sure took your sweet time.”

You laughed nervously. “Sorry about that. I was in the back room.”

When the two of you walk back to the counter, the blonde is nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, it seems like he was able to get everything done. The floor was spotless, maybe even a little too clean.

Suddenly you hear the bathroom door slam shut and turn your head towards the sound. Atsumu is walking out with slightly wet sleeves, so you assume that he just washed his hands. 

“You’re still here?” Osamu just gives his brother a blank look as he places the drinks down next to the fridge. “Don’t you have to go to practice soon?”

The other twin just shrugs his shoulders. “Eh. Not for like another hour.”

“Then, why the hell did you make me wake up so early to make you food?” One of Osamu’s eyes started twitching.

“I was hungry.”

“Die.”

Ignoring his brother’s bitterness, Atsumu sat at one of the stools near you and leaned his head against his arm. “(Name)-chan, you should try my favorite onigiri flavor!”

Your eyes light up at the mention of the first onigiri your boss made you. “Oh! The Minced Tuna and Spring Onion one right?”

Atsumu looked a bit surprised. “Yeah...how’d you know?”

“Your brother let me try it about a week ago after my shift.”

“Wait,” the man in front of you paused for a moment before a realization hit him. “You’re the reason why I had to eat cereal for dinner that one time?!”

You’re a bit stunned for a moment and direct your next question to Osamu who’s not even trying to hide his smirk. “I thought you said he’d get takeout?”

“Not my fault. This idiot dropped his wallet in the toilet and couldn’t remember where he kept his credit card.” Your boss just casually crosses his arms. “Turns out I conveniently forgot my wallet at the shop that day too.”

“Yeah, you made up for that today, you scrub,” Atsumu scoffs. You just watch the petty banter between the twins, discreetly enjoying their strange way of communicating.

Their conversation was interrupted when Atsumu’s phone vibrated indicating an incoming message. He checks his phone and quietly reads its contents before abruptly standing from his position and stretching. “Well, this was nice and all, but Bo-kun is asking for some extra spiking practice, so I’m gonna head out. I’ll be back soon, (Name)-chan, so don’t miss me too much!”

As Atsumu pocketed his phone, he leaned against the counter where you stood and held out a fist. “I had fun today.”

You laughed softly with a small smile on your face and reciprocated the fist bump. “See you around, Atsumu-san.”

The blonde just waved an arm at his brother, who couldn’t care less, and left without another word. Although, Osamu did nod his head in acknowledgement.

You didn’t think you’d have to deal with so much drama before the shop even opened, but at least you got to meet the brother with good taste.

Today had been another successful day at work. There were quite a few customers and all of the onigiri sold out by closing time. You stretched your arms to relieve some of the tension from standing in the same position all day. Osamu seemed to be doing the same as he rolled his shoulders back and forth.

There was a lingering question that you’ve wanted to ask him since this morning. “Just out of curiosity, is your brother a volleyball player too?”

“Yeah. Do you remember that owl-looking guy from last week? They’re on the same team.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were pretty familiar with him.”

Osamu nodded his head. “I’m surprised the whole team hasn’t come in yet. They frequent this place since it’s convenient and has decent prices. You’ll probably meet all of them pretty soon.”

You just hummed at his words.You were ready to start sweeping and moved your arm in the direction of the broom. 

“My turn to ask, then.” Osamu stated. “What’d you guys talk about while I was gone this morning?”

You hand froze in the air. “With Atsumu-san?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh...um…” You tried to think of something to cover up any suspicions Osamu may have, but he was already on to you.

“He did something stupid.”

You looked at your boss in the eye and sheepishly laughed. Might as well just tell him the truth. “Maybe crack some eggs and ruin some rice?”

Osamu sighed. “I figured. I did think it was a little weird when I saw the trash half full when we hadn’t even opened yet. There was also a very conveniently placed newspaper at the very top covered in yolk. Not to mention the eggs shells tangled in the mop.”

You silently cursed at Atsumu’s carelessness, but didn’t hold it against him since you both were in a rush to get everything clean. Before you had the chance to defend yourself, Osamu spoke up once again.

“Glad you told me the truth though, or I might’ve fired you.”

Panic. You are struck with panic at the mention of possibly getting fired. Your mind reels with everything that could possibly go wrong in your life if you were to lose this job, but Osamu’s amused laugh cuts off your thoughts.

“I’m just messing with you. I know how insufferable ‘Tsumu can be when he sets his mind to something.” He pats your head lightly. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you go so easily.”

“Thanks, Miya-san.” You silently let out a small sigh of relief. There’s a short pause as the two of you just stand in place facing each other. Osamu looks a bit tense and turns his head away to look at the fake plant on the counter to his right.

“...Osamu.”

You pause with bewilderment and look up to catch his eyes. “...what?”

He moves his arm to rub his neck and avoids your gaze. “You can call me Osamu.”

You hesitate a bit and take in Osamu’s shy attitude. “But, you’re my boss…?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you called me by my first name. P-plus my brother shows up way more than he should, so it’ll probably get confusing,” He quickly rationalized, but his red cheeks said otherwise.

At this point, you’re both a bit flustered. In any other situation, something like this probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but this conversation seems oddly intimate.

“O-okay. Then, you can call me by my first name too, O-Osamu...san”

“Sound good, (Name)-san.”

Nori = the seaweed stuff

A/N: I know this is supposed to be a gen fic, but I couldn’t help but add in a bit of fluff when it involves the twins