#*credit card flies out of wallet*

[str8upjorkinit]

Happy 300 guys

[ereardon]

The Backup || Chapter 2

[Jake Seresin x Reader]

A friends with benefits AU

Overview: No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Chapter summary: Y/N goes on a first date with someone and sparks fly; Jake shows his first crack of jealousy

Warnings: Implied smut, cursing

WC: 3.3K

Previous chapter here; masterlist here

[Please see note at the end, tag list is closed but please follow/turn on notifications for my library page @ereardonlibrary instead]

“He’s hot!” 

You turned your head to where Phoenix was pointing and grimaced. Goatee, Chelsea boots, jeans skinnier than yours. “Is this 2014?” you asked, turning back to the table and putting your hands on the sticky wood. “No thanks. Going to get a second round. Want anything?” 

“Rum and coke.” 

You pushed your way to the busy bar, propping your elbows up and flagging the bartender. “Rum and coke and a tequila soda please.” 

He nodded, turning away and you looked back at the table. A tall blond was chatting up Phoenix, one of his arms looped around the back of her chair. You rolled your eyes. Everyone always flocked to Phoenix. Men, women, it didn’t matter. She had that carefree attitude that attracted people like flies to honey. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t jealous. Her taste was abysmal but that was besides the point. She had options, and you envied that.

“Here you go.” The waiter set the drinks down. “Twenty two dollars.” 

“Let me get that for you.” A voice from your left appeared out of thin air. You turned. A credit card extended from his massive hand, held out over the bar. The arm was covered in a leather jacket, and you trailed your eyes up his arm to his face which hovered a good foot above you or more. Dark hair, slightly overgrown, and a sharp jawline with a slightly hawkish nose. His eyes flickered down toward you and you felt your heart throb in your chest. 

“I have a tab,” you interrupted, sticking out one hand, putting it over his hand that hovered out with a credit card glued between two massive fingers. You didn’t pull away and neither did he. 

The bartender’s voice interrupted. “Name?” 

“Natasha,” you replied, and he moved away, tapping Phoenix’s name into his system and finding her card from when the two of you had arrived an hour before.

You felt a rush of air as the stranger’s hand pulled away, sliding his credit card back into a thin black wallet. He looked down at you from where he was leaning against the bar. “Now I owe you a drink, Natasha.” 

You shook your head but he never flinched. “Natasha is my friend over there.” You pointed at Phoenix who was now laughing with a new person, this time a girl wearing a tight miniskirt. “I’m Y/N.” 

His voice was deep. “I’m Liam.”

He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. A mysterious almost Adam Driver-like quality. You leaned forward, pressing one leg against his. “Here.” You reached into your purse, tugging at a loose business card and holding it out. “If you were serious about that drink.” 

Liam held the card up in the dim lighting of the bar, one thick black eyebrow raised as he read off the card. He lowered it, sliding it into his pocket, inching forward, musk filling the air around you. “Are you here to meet guys, Y/N, or to get stock tips?” 

You tossed your head back in a laugh. When you caught Liam’s eye he was smiling, lips pulled tightly together but in a grin. “I know better than to look for tips at a bar in the Marina,” you replied. “I’d just go to the Philz at Embarcadero.” 

Liam’s lip twitched up. “I’ll let you get back to your friend.” 

���Thanks for the hypothetical promise of a drink,” you replied, picking up both drinks. 

Liam’s hand reached out, fingers spread across your bare wrist. “Y/N.” His voice was deep and gruff; it scratched that inner part of your ear that felt like a tickle. You looked up, eyes wide. “I’ll call you.” 

You grinned. “You better.” You could feel his gaze, hot on your back, as you made your way back to the table where Phoenix was now alone. 

“That took ages. What was the hold up?” 

You looked back at the bar. Liam held up his drink with a wink. You turned back to Phoenix, taking a sip of your tequila soda. “Nothing. Just some guy.” 

“Some guy, huh? Any potential?” 

You snuck one last look at the bar. Liam’s spot was empty. You turned back to Phoenix and shrugged. “Probably not.” 

***

“You can’t seriously think this looks good.” 

Coyote walked out of the fitting room in a pair of green chinos and a quarter zip sweater layered over a white shirt. You stood up from the chair and reached for his collar, fussing with it as he grimaced. 

“Y/N,” he groaned. 

“Stop fidgeting,” you snapped. He dropped his hands to his sides and you gripped his shoulders, pivoting him toward the three-pane mirror. “You’re insane, this looks perfect.” 

“I feel like a Ken doll.” 

You opened your mouth to respond as an older woman appeared behind the two of you. “Aren’t you two a lovely couple!” 

Coyote’s face in the mirror transformed into a sigh. It wasn’t the first or third or tenth time someone had mistaken the two of you for a couple. Sometimes it was hard not to. Whether it was picking out new clothes at a J. Crew or Christmas tree shopping in Oakland or late at night at the bar, his arm slipped around the back of your chair, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“Oh we’re not together,” you replied after a moment. 

The lady frowned. “Why not?” 

You looked up at Coyote. Why not was a good question. He was everything you wanted in a partner. Strong and stable and kind. He could predict your needs based on your mood and he wanted the very best for you. 

Coyote smiled down at you. You grinned at him. Why not was only for you two to know. 

***

“Fuck!” 

You slammed back against the mattress, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin from where you laid naked in Jake’s bed. He looked over at you with a smirk. “That good, huh?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, slapping one hand over your eyes, blocking him out. 

Jake laughed, one hand squeezing your thigh. His grip was tight and familiar. “You love it,” he replied, rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of boxers. “Want some pizza? I have some in the fridge.” 

“Yeah, sure.” As Jake rounded the corner into the kitchen you reached for your phone on the nightstand, a voicemail from an unknown number blinking on the homepage. Frowning, you clicked on it. 

Hi Y/N, this is Liam, from Tostado’s bar. What are you doing on Wednesday night? I’d really like to see you again. And I still owe you that drink. Call me when you can. Talk soon.

Jake returned with a box of pizza and two beer bottles wedged between his fingers on one hand. “Everything OK?” 

You smiled, sliding the phone face-down onto the table. “Yeah, everything’s great.” 

***

“Tell me again who this is?” Coyote pinched a french fry between his fingers and popped it into his mouth. 

“His name is Liam, we met at a bar last weekend.”

“And how do we know Liam isn’t a serial killer?” 

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink, leaning back into the plush seat of the restaurant booth. “Javy, are we really going to do this again?” 

He sighed. “I just worry about you.” 

“I know you do. But I’m a big girl. And besides, don’t you want me to find someone?” 

“Of course I do.” It was a thin whisper. 

“What did I miss?” Jake slid into the seat to your left, immediately reaching for his beer. 

“Y/N has a date tomorrow,” Coyote said. 

Jake’s eyebrow shot up. “Is that so? What’s his red flag?” 

“He has none.” 

Jake laughed but it sounded empty. “Sounds like bullshit to me. They all have red flags.”

“Just because you date teeny boppers with the emotional intelligence of an eraser doesn’t mean I do, too.” 

“Not my fault you pick the biggest losers on the planet to date in a city that’s literally chock full of startup geniuses.”

Coyote watched with wide eyes as you and Jake laid into each other. Your face was practically red. After a pause you leaned back and shook your head. “New subject. Has anyone seen Bradley’s new motorcycle?” 

Jake launched into a full rundown of the specs of Bradley’s new bike. You finished your pasta, nodding in rapt attention, but the heat of Coyote’s gaze was undeniable. At one point, you looked up to catch him staring at you, head tipped, like he was solving a puzzle. You smiled, and he did, too, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You turned back to Jake, trying to ignore the pinch in your stomach. 

***

The wind rippled through your hair as Liam returned from the bar with two drinks. He smiled broadly, lips spread back but still closed. You held out a hand, wrapping it around the plastic cup. “Thanks.” 

Liam took his place next to you near the boat railing, the water splashing high on the sides. “Is this what you had in mind for a first date?” 

You shook your head. When he had first suggested the two of you take a nighttime tour of Alcatraz you had been surprised. But it turned out to be monumentally more fun than you had imagined. You’d worn the complete wrong type of shoe — a pair of stiletto boots — and on your way back down the side of the hill to the ferry boat you had stumbled and Liam caught you. His arms were solid and strong and to your shock he crouched down. 

“Get on.”

You had hopped onto his back, and he carried you down the side of the hill, all the way onto the boat. He set you down gently, hands caressing your thighs carefully. You could still feel the mark of his fingertips on your skin when he was inside getting drinks. 

“Well?” Liam asked, taking a sip of his margarita. “You up for one last adventure?” 

You smiled. “Another surprise?” 

“One more,” he promised. “Or if you’re desperate to get off this boat with me I can call you an Uber the second we get to the Ferry Building.” 

“Not at all.” 

“Good.” This time, he flashed his pearly white teeth. “Do you eat meat?” 

Twenty minutes later, you and Liam were squished in a small booth in a restaurant in Chinatown with a vast spread of food on the rickety table in front of you: pork dumplings, half of a roasted duck, fluffy buns filled with red bean paste, shrimp shumai. 

You stabbed a dumpling with your chopsticks, plopping it into your mouth. 

“That’s so good.” 

Liam’s knee knocked against yours as you reached for another bun. “Have you been to China?” 

“Never. But it’s on my list.” 

“I spent two years there teaching English,” he said, taking a sip of beer in-between words. “Unreal experience.” 

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I’ve only ever lived here and LA, where I grew up.” 

“What made you leave LA?” 

“My best friend,” you replied, lifting the neck of the beer bottle to your lips. “He got a job out here after graduation and said it was the best place ever. We both kind of needed a change of place, to get away from where we were from.”

“San Francisco is the greatest escape,” Liam said, “and it’s a vacuum, sucking you in, all at once.” Even though it was dark, you understood what he meant. There was something about the city that called to you. When it was night and the streets were practically empty. Something overwhelming when the fog finally broke and you could see for miles across the abundant hills. San Francisco was more of a home to you than LA ever would be. It was your escape, but it was also your Hotel California. You could show up anytime, but you would never leave. 

“What do you do?” you asked, leaning forward, one ankle brushing over his calf. Liam’s hand dangled off the back of the red booth, fingertips dancing lightly on your shoulder. 

“I’m a publisher.” 

“Books?” 

He nodded. “I’m here for six months. A kind of sabbatical.” 

You frowned. “Six months? Then where are you going?” “Back to New York.” You sucked in a breath. “I live in the East Village, off Eleventh Street.” 

“New York,” you breathed. “I’ve never been.” 

“It’s different than here,” Liam replied. “This has the better Chinatown.” 

You smiled. “What do you like better?” 

“Neither one is better,” Liam said, his voice graveley and deep. You felt his fingers brush gently over your shoulder, and you unconsciously nudged closer. “Coffee in New York. Mexican food here. People in New York are ruder, but genuine. People here are California kind — pleasant, but hollow. I like being close to the water. But New York has bagels and there’s so much more life at three in the morning.” He paused. “Besides, you’re here. So that’s an automatic win for San Francisco.” 

Under the flickering fluorescent light of the Chinese restaurant, you looked up at Liam. For the first time in a long time, you felt it. That spark. That small piece of chemistry every romcom, every romance book, every person who had been in a committed relationship said was the start. The one little ember that would ignite and start a whole forest fire. And despite all of the noise, the shouting and the clamoring and the sound of dishes smacking against linoleum tables and chairs screeching as they got pulled back on the sticky tile floor, for a moment in time it was just you and Liam sitting next to each other in silence, your smile reflected on his face, his fingertips warm against your shoulder. 

Outside, the air was chilly. You winced as the two of you stepped into the street, your feet aching in the heeled boots. “Wait here,” Liam said, ducking into the store next to the restaurant the two of you had emerged from. He returned a few minutes later, holding out a pair of red silky slippers and you laughed as he bent down, unzipping your boots carefully, sliding the slippers on. You sighed in relief, heels hitting the ground for the first time all night. 

“I can hold those,” you said, reaching out for the boots. 

He straightened up, towering over you, and shook his head. “I’ll carry them for you.” 

Liam’s hand found yours as the two of you walked down Grant Street. There was something calm about him. Sturdy. As you rounded the corner onto Market Street, your gaze flickered up at him. 

“When can I see you again?” he asked, voice melting into the wind that whipped down the street, blanketing the two of you in a chill. 

“I’m free on Friday.” 

He grinned. “Friday then.” Liam pulled out his phone as a black sedan pulled up next to the curb. “I ordered you an Uber Black to take you home.” Liam stepped forward, opening the door. You lingered for a moment, your right hip brushing against his. 

“Goodnight,” you whispered. For once, you wanted him to kiss you. It wasn’t a reluctant end of the night forced event. It wasn’t out of pity or to cut the date short. It wasn’t because you felt like you owed him for a drink, a dinner, a ride. You wanted him to kiss you. 

So when he leaned down, one hand cupping your cheek, you sucked in a breath, his lips landing on yours, soft and pillowy, the pine scent of his musk overwhelming your senses as he pressed closer, his thumb sinking gently into the soft skin behind your ear as you opened your lips, letting him in. And when he pulled away, you were breathless. “Goodnight, Y/N,” Liam murmured, taking your hand, helping you down into the leather backseat of the car, placing your discarded boots down at your side. 

You watched him fade into the dark as the car pulled away, headed west, your lips still bruised with the thought of him. 

You were so caught up that you didn’t feel your phone buzz in your purse, Jake’s text sitting unread. 

How was the date? I have tequila. 

*** 

You and Jake had agreed early on that you’d keep your relationship, or whatever you could call it, a secret from the group. Not only would Coyote flip, but it would create another layer that would inevitably create fissures if and when things went to shit with the two of you. Which, taking into account both of your dating histories, was practically inevitable. 

Only once had you come close to exposing yourselves. 

It was Bob’s birthday party, which had started at a restaurant in the Mission and ended at a rooftop in Cow Hollow. Jake had struck out early in the night with two different blondes, first at the restaurant and then at the second bar. You had early success chatting with a guy from the first bar, but by the time you got to the rooftop he confessed he lived with his mother and sometimes slept in her bed. 

“Ew,” you shuddered, taking a shot, physically shaking away the ick that had crawled under your skin the moment he said that. 

“What happened Stink? Strike out?” 

You glared at Jake. “Fuck off.” 

He tipped one of the small shot glasses down his throat and winced. “So did I.” Jake leaned in closer, his hand brushing against your low back. You felt a tickle of excitement creep up your thighs. “Want to get out of here?” 

“We can’t, it’s Bob’s birthday. Someone will see.” 

“You leave first, I’ll wait five minutes and follow. Your apartment is just ten minutes away.” 

You looked up at Jake. He had stepped closer, his thumb hooked against the waistband of your shorts, the edges of his hair stuck to his golden skin from the sweat. It was hot, July, and the evening breeze that usually chilled San Francisco was nowhere to be found. And yet, somehow all you wanted was to be rolling around with Jake in a mess of sweaty limbs. “You’re desperate for me, huh?” you whispered. 

Jake rolled his eyes and you smirked. Just as you were about to pull away, head for the door, you straightened your glance. Phoenix had her eyes trained on you across the room. Quickly, you sidestepped away from Jake, his fingertips falling from your waist. “What?” he asked, loudly. Too loudly. 

“Shh,” you hissed under your breath, taking another definitive step away from Jake and jutting your chin out toward Phoenix. Jake looked up, catching Natasha’s eyes, and then grunted. 

“Fuck.” 

“You’re an idiot,” you said, pushing him out of the way, trying to cut across the room toward Phoenix to explain. 

“Wait, Y/N.” Jake grabbed your wrist. 

You turned back, thrashing out of his grip. “Jake. Let go of me.” Your eyes burned into his and he opened his fingers, letting your wrist slide away, out of his grasp. “You better hope she doesn’t suspect anything.” 

By the time you made your way across the rooftop to Phoenix she was pounding another drink, the memory of you and Jake cozy near the railing a distant memory. But that didn’t stop the tiny little voice in the back of your head that said you two were ticking time bomb. That sooner or later, one of you would make a mistake. And it wouldn’t just be your pseudo-relationship on the line. It would be all of your friendships, too. 

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[prettypei]

“IS THIS OUR LAST GOODBYE?”

plot: goodbyes with suguru; angst!

reader: gn! Reader

warnings: big spoilers for teen years! suguru and shibuya arc, reader is an orphan in this, mentions of blood and violence

(a/n): he’s such a well written character

GETO SUGURU hears a knocking on his door. One fast, two slow. "Come in, (name)." You open the door slowly as you step in his room. "Hey! How was the mission with gojo?" You flop on his bed. You had just returned from overseas and were excited to see your boyfriend. However, something about him seems a little off. "It was...fine." He doesn't look at you, as he's still staring at his hands. He's changed into a white shirt and baggy pants, and his hair's still dripping from the shower he took earlier. "Your tone indicates it doesn't sound fine." You turn your head too look at him. "What's wrong?" He doesn't answer, as he's still staring at the floor. "Suguru?" You're genuinely concerned about him now, your eyes practically begging an answer from him. Suguru had changed. You noticed the dark eyebags and weary posture and the way he looked so...helpless.

"(name)." "Hmm?" "Did you ever think about why you became a jujustu sorcerer?"You ponder for a minute, thinking about his words. "Well...I wanted to help everyone. I...my parents suffered when I was still young, and I never want to see anyone go through what I went through when I was young." There was a pause. "I see." "Hey." You scooted closer to him, putting your had on his lap. "I don't know what happened but...I'm gonna be here for you, okay? You don't have to tell me now or ever, but... you know. I'm still your lover." The slightest flicker of emotion flies over Geto's face as he smiles, making your heart start beating again. "Yeah. Thanks."

-

"Uh-wait a second." You were fumbling with your wallet, searching for your credit card, until you remembered that you left it in your room. "Shit." You think, offering an apologetic smile to the cashier who wore an unamused face. "I-I am so sorry I forgot to-" "I'll pay." A taller gentleman stepped in front of you, thrusting a couple of dollars to the cashier. "Keep the change, by the way." You breathe a sigh of relief as you leave with your items. "Thank you so mu..." Your voice trails off as you get a good look at his face.

Suguru.

"Hello, (name)." He smiles a genuine smile at you while you were frozen in your spot. "Wh-wha-what-" "Why am I here? I'm buying stuff for my adopted daughters!" What...what was he doing here? You still remembered the day when Yaga broke the news to you, as you were too shocked to comprehend the news. Suguru? Killing people? It was too absurd to believe, so you went with your best coping mechanism: burying yourself in your work so you would forget about it eventually. But now, just when you were getting over him, he appears? "Well, that's not completely true." He offers you a bashful chuckle. "I came here to see you! I heard from Satoru you were here shopping, so I decided to come visit you, and recruit you!" "Recruit?" You were genuinely confused now. "What do you mean, Geto?" "Awwww no first name basis, babe? Alright, alright. What I'm saying is..." His tone takes on a more serious one.

"Join me."

"JOIN YOU?" You gave him an incredulous look. "You killed all those innocent people! I-I was so heartbroken when I_" "You don't get it!" He snaps. "AND YOU LEFT ME ALONE! You fled, Geto. You fled and left me, all alone." Your voice is breaking now, your eyes threatening to spill out tears. His eyes soften slightly. "Oh, (name), that's why I'll never leave you again if you join me. You can still be my (name). Us! Together with my family!" "Y-You killed your own family, Geto." You choke on your own words, angry at how unbothered he is with the situation. "You-You're sick!" "Don't say that," He smiles at you once again. "My family consists of more of them now. So, whaddya say, angel?" He chuckles. "You still look the same after all these months."

"N-no."

His face falters at those words. "No?"

"No, Geto, I won't. Too many are suffering now, and-and I'll save them, I have to, it's my duty." You feel yourself clenching your fists. "I-I can't do it."

"I see." His face darkens. "That's how it is." He turns his back.

"Is this goodbye...again?" You whisper. You were so close, so close to your Suguru once again, but you had to let him go.

"Yeah." He pauses for a second, thinking about what he should say to you.

"I love you. I've always loved you. And I will continue doing so, (name)." He pauses, expecting you to say it back. "next time we meet, I won't be your lover. I will be your enemy."

"Yeah." You whisper. "Me too, Suguru."

-

“well, well.” You turn yourself to face the man whom you loved so many years ago, but this… was not geto suguru. He was being possessed. “If it isn’t the famous (name). I’ve heard about you, but your abilities are weak. The only thing that’s keeping you here is because of your long years of training overseas. You won’t be an obstacle.”

“You sure about that?” You grin as you brandish your katana. “If I go down, I’m gonna go down beating your ass, kenjaku.”

“Are you sure I’m not your darling suguru?” Kenjaku smirks. “You know, he’s still trying to reach out to you. I can still hear his thoughts in my brain. That dumb fuck still thinks he can contact you with telepathy.” He scoffs. “Weak.”

Your body stiffens as you hear his words. Suguru… He grins at the sight of this. “Oh my. I have hitten a sore spot, haven’t I?” You snarl in reply, charging towards him with your weapon in hand, determined to kill your dead lover.

[nuancefem]

adulthood sucks vent ic

i want to do adulthood SO GOOD as a freelancer but i keep getting a faildyke grade in being a grown ass human being and my wallet has flies coming out of it and i lowkey feel like a failure and i barely get any paid projects and my fave client keeps ghosting me and i want to focus on my youtube stuff cuz i freaking love it but i also need to put food on the table and i have like the smallest battery of energy ever and can only do like, one big task a day or i perish. i need to write more Real Big Adult Thinkpieces and put them on my substack bc it's a more fancy platform than tumblr so it has more reach and i really would LOVE to write professionally but to do that i have to actually write and anytime i focus on writing i feel so guilty bc i feel like i'm indulging in a dumb hobby but i really wanna make it out thereeeeee i really wanna be a big Professional Writer tm and have it as my main job alongside occasional transcription, and hopefully youtube down the line if that works out, and maybe clay art if i eventually get decent at it. i'm so sad about it all bc i need so badly to focus on things that have a higher likelihood of making $$ than my radblr book & my sapphic bodyswap novel & my youtube but it's LITERALLY ALL I WANNA DOOOOOOOO what a stupid baka world!!!!!!! i fucking hate capitalism ughhhhhhhh i need to apply for a bajillion boring projects in the vague hope that perhaps if i'm extremely lucky one of them will hire me... when i wish i could just do my usual transcript work with my fave client whomst i love and then focus the rest of my time on what i ACTUALLY wanna do with my life... i wish i could actually put everything into my passions 1000%. but i have like $20cad left for the next 2 weeks which will be eaten up by stuff for my bunnies... i need to sell some clothes or smth on fb marketplace... i have almost $4700cad in credit card debt too :'D yippee!!!!! fml fml fml. and yet, i survive... despite it all... like a dumb lazy cockroach...

[noroi1000]

"Gomen'nasai" chapter 03

Gomen'nasai | ←Previous chapter • Next chapter→

"Haha! So you're saying you started playing Digimon out of boredom? When I was a teenager I loved it!" he said, drinking a second glass of coke while he bought you a third drink.

"I only recently started. But it's pretty cool. Time flies easily." You said, wiping your mouth after drinking the entire drink in one go.

His hand reached for a piece of pineapple that was on the glass for decoration and ate it.

"Hey!"

"What? I like sweet. And I didn't eat dinner." He laughed, knowing you were already slightly drunk.

Any quiet drunk person can turn out to be the life of the party.

For now, you smile more often.

"One more?" he asked, pointing to the glass.

"No! That's enough for me!" You said, your hands out in front of you as you stopped him.

"Maybe water? Or juice? Drink?"

"I've had enough to drink today. Enough." You smiled at him.

"Can I get the bill?" asked the bartender.

"Yes." you replied and reached for your wallet, waiting for the amount to be given.

But before he could say how much to pay for your drinks, the white-haired man waved at him.

"We pay together!" he said with a smile.

Well... He only took two glasses of Coke... You probably took enough money from home to pay.

"How much?" You asked, waiting for the bartender to put his drinks on the bill.

But before he could say, a credit card appeared in front of him as White Hair handed it to him.

"I guess it doesn't matter how much I pay. Don't you think so?" he chuckled as he watched the man use his card to pay for what you both drank. He gave him the card back and put it in his wallet which he then put in his pocket. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"

Placing his hand on your back, he took his thin jacket and led you to the exit.

Why does he treat you so well?

First he starts talking to you. Now he paid for you.

"Thank you for paying on one bill. How much money should I pay you back?" You asked as he took a breath of fresh air as he stretched slightly.

You were there for at least two hours. You talked and drank your drinks.

"You say that to every guy when he pays for you?* he laughed briefly.

You turned your head slightly to the side.

If there was a guy you went out with somewhere before him...

"Actually, I forgot to ask how old you are."

He knew. But...

"...24." you replied.

"Ooh?? I'm 28! We're the same age!"

"I thought you'd be older."

"Why?"

"You have white hair." You laughed.

You certainly have a nice smile.

When he met you, he somehow thought how on earth you could be a curse user.

"Just because I have white hair doesn't mean I'm an old man! Can you see that I have some wrinkles??"

"You are one big walking wrinkle!"

"You're hurting me." He put his hands over his heart dramatically before laughing. "So, do you want to go somewhere else?"

"I need to buy something at the supermarket." You said, nodding in that direction.

He remembered that this was where he was supposed to bring you to Jujutsu High.

And you want to go there of your own free will?

You were just his mission.

The man he was going to take to his death.

Because his superiors ordered him, he was to kidnap you and hand you over to them. So they can execute you. Execution for nothing. You've never killed anyone. Only one person died, but you didn't kill him. It wasn't your fault.

You suffered as much because of what you did as the people who, according to the elders, are your 'victims'.

But still, you were sentenced to death.

You had a nice smile. Especially when you started smiling at him sincerely after those two hours.

An image flashed in his mind of how your dead body would lie in Shoko's office later anyway. Then you won't smile. So why did he start thinking about what your smile looks like??

Shesh... He could have just thrown you unconscious into the car instead of waiting until the moment when he would regret getting rid of that smile.

"You know, Satoru, you're really the first person here who's been this nice to me." You said suddenly. Your small smile didn't disappear from your face.

Shit... Why did he have to spend time with you and get to know you...

"To the people who know me in this town, I am a witch. Some of them really wish I wasn't here." You said quietly, looking at the ground.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, feeling a pang in his heart at your confession.

He just has to take you to your death.

And now he finds out that your life is neither easy nor pleasant.

He wanted to be a teacher to know that young sorcerers would not die young. You were young. You were 24 years old. And you didn't have the same life among non-sorcerers as among sorcerers.

From the very beginning when he saw you, you were only supposed to be a curse user that he would catch and bring to his execution.

"Why am I telling you this?? ...Because I thought you'd like to know who you've just been talking to all this time. So you can find out the truth about someone you paid for drinks for." Your soft smile remained on your lips as you said this, looking into his eyes.

You were really honest.

You didn't know he was a sorcerer. You didn't know why he came here. You didn't know who exactly he was.

You didn't know that you were just talking to the person who came here to take you by force to death at the hands of someone else.

His throat tightened with guilt.

You were unaware of the threat that stood before you.

And yet you didn't suspect anything after he lied about not specifically looking for you.

"Why a witch?" he asked to keep the conversation going.

"... You really want to know...?"

Not knowing any of his movements or hearing a word, you sighed.

"I have a special skill where they can tell someone to say something, and that person will do it. Many people want to use my skills, and I do it to make a living. I don't want to hear what their goal is. I just do what they want and I don't want to know more. Once a person died at the hands of a person who wanted me to ask this man to go to Hokaido... And the rumor that I killed him became popular very quickly. People are afraid that I will 'bewitch' them, rob them and kill them."

"But you didn't do anything," he said suddenly.

You looked at him with a small spark in your eyes.

"You're not the one who killed him. You're not the one committing these crimes. These are people who are just paying you to do a small favor for them. Nothing more."

"... Do you really think so...?"

A small tear fell from your eye.

This is the first time someone has told you this...

His fingers rubbed your cheek, drawing away a tear.

He used his fingers to guide your face towards him.

"Really!" He gave you a kind smile that warmed your heart.

"Isn't that our goal, Gojo-san?"

"She won't run away."

"But -."

"This is my mission. I decide what we do."

These are just rumors. He believes you are innocent. After all, he doesn't like it when someone dies at the hands of his superiors for no reason.

[offline-crowbot]

"Ok, ma'am that'll be $226.03."

I take my wallet out of my pocket and unfold it. It is empty other than a single credit card that lazily flies out and away. My credit card has left the building. My family will starve tonight

[batsydoodle]

My self inflicted rule of only getting blue suit batman figures really is a monkey paw situation, because on one hand yes I'm saving money by not buying all the cool other figures But! The instant i see that fucker is in blue my credit card simply flies out of my wallet

[noguitarsnosejobs]

You put a blade to my pocket, my credit card flies out like a rocket into your hand then you lock it, lock my hard work into your wallet 🫒🎞️

[schnitzel-bob]

Episode 199

Hitting "post" triumphantly, Vince wiped the sweat from his brow with a hairy arm, then leaned back in his chair and exhaled.  In spite of it all, this was fun.  No editors on his jock, no having to kowtow to Chad Uproxx and his crew of dockers-sporting coifs.  Just freedom to rip it.    

His stomach rumbled.  There was a hotdog stand down the street, but... Vince pulled out his wallet and opened it to reveal nothing.  Realizing he hadn't carried cash in three years, he pulled out his credit card.  It had been covered in duct tape with a frowny face and two cartoon flies drawn on it.

His stomach growled more insistently.  "I wonder..." he muttered to himself, before getting up and beginning to paw through old desk drawers.  In one he found what appeared to be a used silicone butt that had been stored in a tupperware container.  Some moisture and residual biological products had generated a thriving micro-ecosystem.  Fascinated but still hungry, he filed the container away for another day.  

Finally, he stumbled on a loose floorboard and looked down, next to what had been a writer's desk.  Kneeling down, he pried it loose and found an entire box of Lärabars, on which was stuck a sticky note indicating "THESE ARE THE OFFICIAL BAR OF LAREMY.  FUCK OFF MATT."      

[confused-stars]

Kurogiri’s Nanny Service - Part Three: Monoma

(part one) (part two)

It's a comfortable rainy afternoon, and three kids are huddled over a pile of wallets, watches and jewelry on the floorboards of Kurogiri's bar.

Keigo's small wings are puffed up in pride as Himiko admires a bracelet, rhinestones shining in the dim light when she turns it this way and that.

Tomura seems more invested in the wallets, going over the business cards and such with interest, and piling off the money and credit cards separately from the rest of the treasures.

He pauses to stuff a bill into his pocket, and Takami, who is sprawled out in a nearby booth, pries one eye open. "If you wanna have sticky fingers, you gotta be more subtle about it, brat."

How he noticed is beyond Kurogiri entirely. But it's been a point of contention how terrible Tomura really is at stealing. Or any kind of subtlety. He was never trained for that, with his sensei always telling him to just take what he wants by force, but he gets frustrated that Takami seems to catch him every time.

Keigo pouts, even as Tomura puts the money back. "C'mon, To, that's my hard earned haul! You don't even need money."

Tomura rolls his eyes. "Neither do you, beakface. Kurogiri would take care of your stuff, too, if you asked him."

Keigo's hand flies up to his nose and he makes an affronted noise.

"Not how that works, baby bunny," Takami interjects, "Villains don't wanna owe debts. Even to their friends." He gives Kurogiri a glance. " 'specially to their friends."

Kurogiri meets his gaze evenly. "Does that mean I can expect you to pay your tab today?"

Takami throws his head back and laughs as if that was the funniest joke he ever heard.

The children giggle, too.

Traitors, all of them. How is he ever going to make honest villains out of them like this?

Kurogiri decides not to complain about it, because he's the adult here and he'll act like one.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He knows better than to ignore it, so he glances at the text he's received. It's just coordinates. That's nothing unusual. In fact, it's more common than getting sent actual words as instructions.

"I have to go," he says, already creating a portal in the air.

The children don't even react beyond small noises of acknowledgement. They're already more than used to this, too.

It's only Takami's eyes that bore into the side of Kurogiri's head as he steps through the portal, sharp and predatory. He's been asking questions about the man in charge of Kurogiri and Tomura recently. He's suspicious.

Kurogiri is not allowed to tell him more than necessary, but he understands the concern. Takami is bringing his child here, after all.

And the concern might not be unfounded - Keigo is passionate and clever, already skilled at pickpocketing, and his quirk is incredibly useful and versatile. If he weren't considered a possible future asset, Kurogiri doubts that All for One would be allowing this to continue. He's always been strictly against Tomura socializing with other children his age, or anyone at all. And now he's allowing both Keigo and Himiko. Not to mention the fully grown, dangerous villain. Tomura has never been happier, never been more stable. There has to be some kind of plan at work here that Kurogiri can't see yet. Some kind of additional angle.

The portal vanishes behind Kurogiri; that strange tension of using his quirk, of stretching it out like a well-trained muscle, dissipating at once.

He's standing in a nondescript room that he's been to many times to pick up objects to transport, or have a meeting with All for One outside of his main base of operations. Sometimes they keep prisoners in here.

This time, though, it's empty save for All for One and a small child.

Kurogiri immediately feels part of him soften, even as his guard goes up.

The boy looks to be maybe Himiko's age, six or seven, with neatly combed, blond hair and startlingly grey eyes that look awfully familiar.

"Introduce yourself," All for One says in that gentle tone he usually reserves for Tomura alone.

The child bows politely. "Hello. I'm Monoma Neito, it's nice to meet you." His words and tone are carefully formal, but there's a slight clumsiness in the way he speaks. It's, frankly, adorable. And nothing Kurogiri is used to. None of his children have manners.

"I am called Kurogiri," he replies, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well."

"Are you made of that stuff?" Neito asks pretty much immediately once the very basic niceties are done with. He waves his arms at Kurogiri's form to indicate what he means.

It's a good thing Kurogiri is used to Himiko. And the other children's bluntness, too, to some degree.

"... for the most part," he replies, and then gives All for One a questioning look.

"Neito is my grandson," his master explains, and Kurogiri can't find it in him to be shocked. They do look similar enough. "His parents are out of town on most weekends," All for One continues, "So I offered your services."

Kurogiri wants to sigh. He's not actually a nanny. Is he? If even All for One is treating him like one, he might as well put up a sign. (Tomura hardly counts, Tomura is his boy.)

"Of course." He bows his head. Neito seems well-behaved anyway, it shouldn't be much trouble.

___

Fifteen minutes later, there's a small boy hanging off of Takami's wing by his teeth, and Kurogiri has very little recollection of how they got here.

"I hate your job," Takami laments, shaking his wing with very little gentleness in an attempt to make Neito let go.

Kurogiri reaches out to hold his wing in place, and Takami freezes.

"I... apologize. I was under the impression he was a little better behaved than this." He gently nudges Takami to sit down, his wing spread out, and Neito ends up finally letting go once his only other option is to end up sprawled on the floor.

"You can't just bite people!" Himiko chides, "Even if it'll feel nice, it won't be nice for them."

Neito breathes, then shakes himself. "Your quirk is weird!" he complains.

Kurogiri nods in sudden understanding. All for One told him about this, before he left them to their own devices.

"Neito, you should not copy someone's quirk without knowing what effects it will have on you. Or at the very least you should test it in a safe environment."

Neito crosses his arms. "This is safe."

Kurogiri sighs. "Yes, it is, but you still didn't give a warning. The adults that are taking care of you need to know when you're experimenting, so we can keep you from getting hurt," he explains.

"Or ourselves," Takami grumbles.

Neito huffs. "Fine." He doesn't apologize. Kurogiri doesn't make him. He somehow doubts All for One would approve of that - he never apologizes for anything, after all.

The wing Kurogiri is still holding onto pushes against his hand.

Kurogiri glances at Takami, curious, but the thief is very pointedly avoiding his gaze.

He always tells Keigo he's 'too trusting' when he lets the other kids touch his wings, and Kurogiri has never dared to. Much less touch Takami's. It just happened on instinct this time.

The wing pushes against Kurogiri's hand again. The upper edge of it feels strong and warmer than Kurogiri expected. The feathers here aren't particularly soft when Kurogiri runs his hand along them. Not as soft as he imagines the down feathers to be, anyway.

Not that he's going to try to find out. That would be wholly inappropriate.

"You're cold as fuck," Takami complains, but he's not at all pulling away, and Kurogiri continues, trailing his hand down lower to the longer secondaries that make up most of the actual wing.

"My apologies. It's my quirk." Must be. His quirk is highly complicated and has more layers to it than he can count. Sometimes he gets strangely upset that he's not able to give Tomura warm hugs. Not that Tomura enjoys physical contact much, anyway, but Kurogiri feels like he should be able to give him some warmth, and his body under the ever-wavering vapor is cold as a corpse's.

"Your quirk sounds like a pain in the ass," Takami murmurs, "But at least it looks cool."

Kurogiri chuckles. "I'm flattered you think so."

"You got a real face under there somewhere?" Takami cranes his head back to eye Kurogiri skeptically. "Your hands feel solid enough."

Kurogiri gives a half-shrug in answer. "There's... something underneath. But I don't know what it looks like. The mist never fades."

"Mysterious... hey, can you pull out that crooked feather over there? 's itchy as all hell."

The preening thing is another family activity that Kurogiri has avoided so much as commenting on in the past. Now, he carefully tugs at the feather that's standing out from the rest of them, until it comes loose and Takami sighs in relief.

"Yeah, fuck, that's better."

"You said fuck," says Neito, behind them, and Kurogiri nearly jumps. He hadn't thought the children were paying any attention to them right now.

"Twenty minutes to corrupt a child, you're beating your own records," he says dryly to Takami, who cackles and reaches out out ruffle Neito's hair, but the boy steps back and frowns at him.

Neito is very well-kept, and Takami is kind of... well, grimy. And scary-looking. Kurogiri doesn't blame him.

"Aye, and I'll say worse words, so you better get used to it, li'l chompers."

Neito's nose crinkles when his frown deepens.

"Don't tease the child," Kurogiri scolds, feeling not for the first time like he shouldn't have to take responsibility for Takami, the thirty year old adult.

Then again, he somehow doubts that anyone taught Takami manners during his own childhood.

"Hey, why can't I be chompers?" Himiko complains, tugging at Takami's other wing like there's nothing to it. Her hands are probably sticky with something, as usual, but Takami doesn't move away.

Maybe he's not that terrible with children.

"Ah, 'cause you wanna be. It's no fun when you like the nickname," Takami explains, picking her up and plopping her down into his lap.

"I actually really like mine!" Tomura says from atop the bar.

Takami snorts. "Once we teach you decent thievin', next point of order is makin' you not be a shit liar."

Tomura huffs, crossing his arms. "I don't need to know how to lie. Sensei never lies."

That gives Takami pause. His eyes meet Kurogiri's, and he pulls his wing away, folding both neatly against his back.

"Yeah, I'm sure he doesn't."

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ HOTEL ROOM? ❜

with Angel Reyes.

Warnings: nsfw, brief smut described.

Word count: about 1.9k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author.

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

It was a long day at the hospital and you didn't want to party. But it was EZ night, after being fully patched, and he begged you to go. Even if you know all the Mayans and have a good relationship with them, you feel totally out of place when your friend disappears. He said it was only for some minutes, but one hour has already passed and your drink is almost emptied. You could go home, but the problem is that your housemate asked you to have the house for her own tonight. Another Tinder date. So now, you're freezing because EZ kept your hoodie, sitting on the porch and not knowing where you are going to sleep tonight. Your last option? Search for a hotel room.

Heavily sighing you grab your phone from a pocket of your shorts, curling your body over the couch looking for some warmth. Typing over the screen, you wait for the results. Thirty dollars per night. EZ and Melissa are going to pay for that. Taking off your wallet from your bag, you hold your credit card to hire one room. At least, you will enjoy a good breakfast tomorrow. You don't notice Angel's presence until he asks you what you are doing. Turning your face towards him, you find the oldest Reyes with an arm on one of Vicki's girls shoulders. Mumbling nonsense words, you end up shrugging. If you tell him about your new adventure, he will scold you for not asking him first. But you're weak, and if you stay alone with him, you're going to screw up things between you two.

Before you can't stop him, Angel has grabbed your phone, leaving the girl in the background visibly annoyed. Licking your lips, he looks at you frowning. That look is also enough for the other woman to abandon the porch. Keeping your phone in his back pocket, he takes off his kutte holding it between his legs to offer you his hoodie. Puckering your lips ashamed, you take it to wear it. His smells almost dizzies you, closing the zip over your abdomen and your chest. The warmth of his body concentrated on the fabric comforts you more than anything, holding this time the hand in front of your eyes.

“C'mon, I will take you to my house”.

“You don't have to, Angel”. You whisper, even if you're really desiring it. “You can stay with that girl, and I can g—”.

“Nah”. He clicks his tongue, tangling your fingers with his. “I'm not gonna let you alone, as my shitty brother did”.

He's smirking at you, proud of saving the damsel in distress. Guiding you to his motorbike, he makes you wear on the helmet, assuring that it's tight grip under your chin. Putting away a lock of hair, sticking out by a side, he softly slaps the top of the helmet.

“Let's go, mami”.

The ride is shorter than you thought, clinged to his waist until the bike stops close to the building. Helping you to jump out of it, you follow Angel through the yard to the inside, going upstairs. You have been a lot of times in his house, but this time is different, because it's the first one you're alone. Standing up in the middle of the living room, the man goes to his room to come back a minute later carrying a shirt and a pair of short sweatpants.

“You can wear it, it will be more comfortable to sleep”.

“Thank you”. Whispering with a fleeting smile drawn on your lips, you hold it. “I can… sleep on the sofa”.

“Nah, bed is yours”. Shaking his head, he takes off his kutte to hang it on a chair.

That's not a good idea for you, covered by his smell and dying inside in the meantime. But you just nod, before leaving him to change your clothes. Once that you're ready, tying up your hair, you step out of his room with your new pajamas.

“Wanna beer?”

“Yeah, sure”.

“So, it's supposed that you were staying with EZ?” He asks then, opening the fridge to grab the drinks and sit with you on the sofa.

“It was supposed”. Giggling, you hold your beer to have a sip.

“A toast for my shitty lil brother boiling you”.

“Wow, that's rude!” You laugh, colliding slightly your bottle with his.

“Nah, enjoy our night. It's the first time we're alone, didn't know you?”

“Yes, I know”.

“Why? I mean, we were friends in our childhood. It's not like… you don't know me”. He sounds a little offended and confused.

“Ah… I don't know”. Putting away your gaze, you focus the moves of your fingers on the beer, shrugging somewhat nervous.

Yes, you know it. But you're not going to tell him.

“I always thought you were in love with me”. He laughs loud, shaking his head.

Your heart is jumping inside your chest, about to fly out and leave the earth's atmosphere. But when he finds you not laughing back, he almost chokes on his beer. With an incredulous gesture, he cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, licking his bottom lip. You're fucked. You just want to run away. From his house. From Santo Padre. From California. Maybe, from the United States. But he grabs your left wrist when you're about to get up.

“Are you…?” He mumbles surprised.

“Angel, I do—”.

“I thought you were just mad at me for something”. Now, the tone of his laugh turns to a happy one, confusing you. “Damn! I thought that maybe I did one of those comments that bothers you, and you just simply… kicked me out”.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to… make you feel like that”.

“So, are you actually in love with me?” Angel is still sounding surprised, putting both drinks away over the coffee table.

His ringed fingers grab your forearms making you kneel on the sofa, a little bit closer from his position. You can't barely breathe when he urges you to lie over his body, embracing you tightly as he places his whole anatomy on the sofa. Your pulse is about to stop, after speeding up too much.

“Do you wanna know a secret?”

“No…” You sob between laughs, covering your face with both hands.

He laughs louder, making his chest vibrate under yours. Turning both bodies on a side, he grabs again your wrist to discover your face. Your cheeks are burning. He's too close. Your back is stuck against the sofa and you two barely fit on it, but Angel looks comfy just like that.

“You were my crush on highschool”. He confesses chuckling, putting an arm under your neck.

“No, it's not true”.

“Yeah, it is. But I thought you and EZ were dating”.

“You think too much”. You mock him.

He nods with pursed lips.

“And didn't help at all”. Angel adds then, starting to caress your hair with soft gestures of his fingertips. Having a light deep breath, he places his head on the cushion. “So… what about you dating me?”

You have never heard him so nervous, always being so secure of himself around girls. And you can't even believe what he is asking you. Now, you're the one who feels secure, and he is the one dying inside.

“I've never had a girlfriend and I don't know what to do, but I'm sure about how many times I have to feed you and how many times I have to take you for a walk”.

“Angel, I'm not a dog!” Palming his chest, you almost roll on your back.

“You sure?” He jokes then, trying to hide the fact that you haven't answered his question yet and he's losing his calm.

“We can figure it out”. You finally say, nodding for a second.

He's smiling like a fool, using the hand on the back of your head to push you some inches closer, until your lips touch his. A soft kiss happening in the meantime that your fingers get intertwined on his shirt, and his free hand flies to your cheek. Your mouths molding perfectly, tasting the bitter mix of beer and your salivas. The pace of your heart feeling calmed, almost touching your noses when he tucks his tongue between your lips. Caressing it, you can't help but fit your body with his when his right arm surrounds tightly your waist. You don't know how many times you have dreamt with that kiss, but probably exactly as he has done.

Running out of air, Angel draws a path of wet kisses down to your jaw, sinking his face into the gap of your neck. His dense beard makes you some tickles, as his teeth getting dragged over your skin give you some soft shivers. You can't help but keep your eyes closed, biting your bottom lip while your fingers tighten the grip in his shirt. One of his hands, placed now on your ass, roams the back of your thigh to urge you to raise up your leg over his, settling himself almost under your body.

“Do you still want to sleep alone?” He whispers against your skin, bristling it with his warm breath.

“No”. You gasp unconsciously as soon as he starts to rock his hips with slow moves.

The hardness under his jeans is perfectly seated against your center, enjoying the friction his anatomy does to yours.

“Who you wanna sleep with, baby?” He asks, clearly teasing you, knowing how much he wants to hear it.

“I wanna sleep with my boyfriend”. You can feel the smile on his lips growing up, because his mouth is still pressed on your neck.

Sticking out his face from his hiding place, Angel kisses you again, turning you on your back. With him lying over you, his pelvis can go somewhat deeper into your legs, finally making you moan just with a simple move. The clothes are hindering you more than anything, but seems like he loves to play with you. And you're no one to ask him to stop, aren't you?

“Does mi preciosa novia want to be fucked by his amazing boyfriend?” His ringed fingers are nailed on your sides, securing you against the sofa, to thrust his hard rock to your needed pussy already wet for him.

“Yes, please…”

“Do you like how it sounds, ah?”

You just nod, feeling his right hand traveling down the fabric of the shirt, finding the waistband of the sweatpants. He doesn't lose time on sliding it under your clothes, grunting because of the heat flooding from your core. But he just caress your folds, impregnating his digits with your juices to bring it to his mouth. Barely gulping, you watch him sucking his own fingers and his eyes getting darker.

“You taste so fucking good, mi reina”. He gasps onto your lips.

And you don't need to be asked to. Gripping his wrist, you take his fingers into your mouth. Your lips closing around it and your head bowing up and down slowly. His orbs are glued on yours, as your tongue tastes his skin. Angel bites his bottom lip using his incisors, seeing how his Adam's apple moves in his throat by gulping his own saliva.

“Fuck my life…” He babbles, enraptured by the way your lips suck his fingers.

“Fuck me, Angel”. You correct him, looking now for his mouth.

[steddieonmywaywardson]

WIP - Ghost au

I PROMISE I’m still writing Lucky Man! I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block when it comes to that story so I’ve been working on an au of the 90s movie Ghost inbetween. Here’s a snippet! :)

It’s a crisp evening when Aaron and Robert step out of the small cinema a few hours later. Aaron zips up his hoodie and pulls Robert closer, linking arms, as they start the walk back into the city centre. It’s not that far away, in fact, they can see the bank of lights in the distance, peeking out of the other side of the park. It’s a walk they’ve done countless times before after an evening out at the student picture house. 

“So, explain the whole working out in the wilderness thing?” Robert asks as they turn onto the main road. The entrance to the park is just a few steps away. Aaron finds himself automatically trying to steer his husband away from it so they can take the main roads that surround it. The park doesn’t have the best reputation at night. 

“It’s meant to be American grit versus Russian technology,” Aaron explains with a roll of his eyes. Robert had actually fallen asleep during a pivotal part of the plot and had started to snore. It was only when Aaron grabbed his nose that he woke up and demanded a full breakdown of everything that he’d missed. 

“I still don’t get why you like those movies,” Robert says. 

“Because they’re good?” Aaron replies as he gives his husband’s shoulder a light punch. “Look, Sylvester Stallone-”

“Wrote them himself and demanded he take the starring role, I know, I know,” It’s Robert’s turn to roll his eyes now. “You and your action movies!”

“You mean like your love of awful music?” Aaron teases.

“That was extremely rude Mr Dingle,” Robert replies, giving Aaron a little flick on the tip of his nose. “You given any thought to what you want to do for our anniversary? it’s only a couple of months away. I was thinking we could book some time off. Maybe Paris?” 

“Some time away would be good,” Aaron muses. He’s actually been working up the courage to ask something pretty important. He’s not sure if it’s the new apartment or the fact that Robert’s putting in less hours at the bank but his husband is looking the happiest Aaron has seen him in a long time. “I was actually thinking...maybe we could look into having kids?” He says in tentatively then almost goes headlong as Robert suddenly stops walking. 

“Kids?” He says doubtfully. “But you said that you weren’t sure about having kids,”

“A lot has changed since then,” Aaron replies shyly. “I’m doing better and you’re not so snowed under with work...the new place is massive. That attic space could make a really nice nursery,” He can feel himself blushing. He’s thought about the nursery thing a lot. He can’t help but picture it when they go up there to plan out what they’re going to do with the space. It seems so clear in his mind’s eye. It’s the perfect place to start a family. 

Suddenly however, his happy picture develops an ugly crack. A deep fissure which goes right across the middle, threatening to break it into pieces. It obviously reflects on his face because Robert’s gently cupping his chin, thumb gently stroking his stubble. 

“What is it?” He asks softly. Aaron looks away but he knows that Robert isn’t going to give in that easily. “Is it the ‘I love you’ thing again?” 

Aaron nods slowly. 

He hasn’t been able to say those words ever since Jackson. It’s not that he doesn’t love Robert. Of course he does. His husband is the love of his life. Even though he’s been through therapy, he still can’t shake the feeling that it was his love that killed Jackson. 

“I don’t need to hear it Aaron,” Robert continues. He gives him a gentle kiss. “The words don’t mean anything. You show it all the time,” 

Aaron’s not paying attention to the world. He’s not paying attention to anyone around him even though, in the very back of his mind, he knows this is stupid. They’re right next to the park. It’s not safe…

A face suddenly appears at Robert’s shoulder. There’s an overwhelming stench of beer and cigarettes. Robert lets go of him and spins around. They’re face to face with the stranger. He’s short but stocky, with a bald head and a goatee. His dark eyes are full of hatred. 

“Your wallet,” He demands gruffly. 

Aaron’s first instinct is to knock the guy out. That is, until he sees the gun in his hand. 

“Take it,” Robert replies. He fumbles in his blazer pocket for a moment and pulls out his wallet. Aaron does the same. Money can be replaced and so can credit cards. It’s not worth dying over. Their mugger is clearly not new to this. His hand holding the gun remains steady and his gaze unwavering. 

Instead of handing the wallet over, Robert’s opening it and pulling out all the money he has. Aaron can’t believe his stupidity until he remembers the photo. It’s the only one that Robert has of his parents together. 

Before Aaron can stop him, the mugger’s arm flies out and hits Robert around the head. Robert reels back from the force of the blow and Aaron can see the blood on his face. He doesn’t notice the gun anymore. Doesn’t feel the fear. All he feels is white hot anger. This man has hurt his husband. 

Aaron dives for the man, wrestling him to the ground. And that’s when the gun goes off. 

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

New Friends

Dean x Reader (platonic); Sam Winchester

A/N: Written for @spnfluffbingo2019. Just a Lil bit of cuteness and fluff where Dean is being helpful to a stranger.

Square filled: Shark Week

Summary: Dean & Sam try to find some respite from the road but Dean gets distracted by some sharks and the cute clerk behind the counter.

WC: 3.5K

Warnings: Language 

Summer in Jersey, there was no shortage of people coming in and out of town. With the beach being in your backyard, there was an even larger swarm of people that traveled through the area, and the hotel you worked at. Faces all seemed to blend together, especially when they were all tired and worn out from the sun, surf and kids they had in tow.

It was the end of August, and as the summer season began to wind down, the days got more humid and the tourists began to thin out. Those who remained, stayed close to the pool and water parks, as the ocean was full of jellyfish and the biting flies were reclaiming the beaches. 

You could be found behind the desk of Sunny’s Roadside Inn, three blocks from the main drag and two from the beach. It wasn’t a big place but had enough rooms to keep you busy from Memorial Day to Labor Day. For everyone else, it was just another Monday in the summer. For you, it was the most anticipated day of the season. It was the first day of shark week, and you were hoping that one of the last two rooms would stay vacant, so you could sneak off down there later and watch on one of the big-screen TVs. Until then though, the small one that was off to the side of the check-in desk would have to do. 

You had turned to the Discovery channel and popped the top on a bottle of Stewart’s Root Beer just as the door to the office opened, signaling the little bell over the door. The two guys that strolled in looked road-weary and in need of a good meal. They trudged to the desk and the taller of the two, dressed in far too many layers of clothing for spending any time at the shore, approached the counter with his wallet in hand. 

“We need a room, please. Whatever you got is fine.” He pulled out a credit card and slapped it on the counter. 

“Whatcha looking for?” you asked casually, “we have two rooms left. Two twins or a king?”

“Two twins, please. My brother and I stopped sharing a bed when I was three.”

“Fair enough,” you said and took his card, then passed him the paperwork. “Staying a night or planning on adding more?”

“Can we book a week?” he asked, and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, accentuating the drawn, dark circles beneath his eyes. 

“Sure,” you replied and went back to the reservation book to write them in. 

The TV beside you began to fluctuate in volume, alerting you that Alien Sharks had finally started. You turned your attention to it as ‘Walt Frohman’ signed the paperwork to take custody of Room 107. You had gotten immediately drawn into the show, you didn’t hear him calling you. He had to reach over and tap your shoulder to garner your full attention.

“Miss? You alright?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah… sorry. I get so wrapped up in this…” you said and motioned towards the TV. 

“Soaps?” The other guy asked as he approached the desk. “Catching up on your stories?” He wore a smirk like it was a badge of honor, and it immediately irritated you.

The taller one at the counter gave him a sideways look and spat his name chastising him like he was a child. “Dean!”

“What? I’m making conversation,” he shrugged and leaned on the counter, taking a peek at the screen just as footage of a Frill Shark swimming by shown on the screen. “Holy shit! That’s one FUGLY… what the Hell is that, anyway?”

“A Frill shark. Dude, that’s nothing. You should see the Gulper and Pacific Sleeper sharks. You wanna talk fugly…” You shook your head and wrinkled your nose. 

You watched him as his eyes grew wide with interest the longer he watched. The smirk fell away and an intense curiosity replaced it. 

“Dean, come on. I wanna sleep. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute, Sam.” Dean leaned in closer. 

‘Sam,’ you thought, ‘that’s not the name on the card.’ You casually looked at the guy's credit card that was sitting on the counter beside you waiting to be run through the reader. 

“Sam?” you asked, and held it up, stuck between your middle and pointer finger. “Says here your Walt Frohman. Last I knew, Sam wasn’t a nickname for Walter. Gonna try and tell me that’s your dad? Grandfather? One of them springing for your summer vacay?”

Dean’s attention fell away from the television now, too, and the brothers exchanged a look of nervous uncertainty. 

“Well, I, uh…” Sam stuttered. 

“Can we pay cash? Make it just for one night, instead?” Dean covered and flashed the smile you assumed he reserved for when he wanted to use his good looks to get him out of a jam. 

You looked between them, both men were clearly exhausted and road-worn, but something about them felt safe. You had seen your fair share of swindlers and criminals, and even if they had a fraudulent credit card, you just didn’t feel the need to bust them on whatever scam they were pulling. Besides, the tall one was cute, and the other one… well… you wouldn’t turn him away from your bed. 

“It's fine. You can stay. Just keep in mind that around here during the summer, people pay attention. If you’re gonna use a fake credit card, at least make sure your friend here calls you by the appropriate name.”

“Brother,” Sam sighed. “My big brother.”

“Well, maybe next time remind big bro here which alias you’re gonna be using,” you winked and cast a glance to Dean who was about to retort with some comeback. Sam stopped him before he could and just shook his head. 

“Dean, just pay the lady. I really wanna sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled and pulled his wallet from his jeans. “Make it two nights, sweetheart. Okay?”

“You said one night,” you replied and leaned your elbows on the counter, leaning over just enough so that Dean’s eyes couldn’t help but flutter down to catch a glimpse of your cleavage. “Also...” you paused to snap your fingers, making his gaze recoil up to meet yours. “Eyes up top, buddy. Also, I am not your sweetheart. So, if you would prefer to just get a room and quietly be on your way, keep the cutesy little names to yourself. You feel me, Dean?”

“Oh, I feel you,” he said, that earlier smirk returning full bore. “I feel you loud and clear.” Despite the chastising warning you gave, he seemed to be flirting with you anyway.

Dean slapped the money on the counter and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Make it two nights. Please, ma’am.”

Though he was being compliant, there was still something mischievous burning in his green eyes. Maybe your earlier assessment was wrong and they were trouble; at least this one was anyway. Even still, you took his cash and counted it out before adding it to the register. You also took the reservation form that Sam filled out under a false name and added it to the guest files. 

From under the counter, you retrieved the room key for 107 and handed it to Sam. “Two nights. Room 107. Enjoy your stay.” 

He took it gratefully and retrieved his bag from the floor. “Thank you,” he sighed and turned to go back out of the office door. Dean hung back a moment, his eyes floating back to the television and a new, disturbing looking shark. You couldn’t help but laugh when you once again saw his expression transformed into this mix of horrified fascination. 

“What, uh… what channel is this?” he asked, his eyes glued to the screen. 

“Discovery. Channel 38 in your room if you want to watch it.”

“Thanks, swee--” he stopped himself from finishing and turned to fully face you. “I’m sorry, I never did get your name.”

“Y/N,” you said, mildly impressed that he even asked. Not many people did. 

“Thank you, Y/N. For,  you know… everything”

“You’re welcome, Dean. Just do me a favor, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Use cash around here. Unless you’re looking to go to jail. They are pretty vigilant and look for shit like this especially during the tourist season.”

“So how come you let it slide?” 

You shrugged. “You caught me on a good day. First day of Shark Week and all.”

Dean laughed and tapped the counter with his knuckles. “How’s that for timing, then, huh? Well, I appreciate it, Y/N. Guess I should go catch up to my brother before he takes the good bed.”

“Room 107?” you mumbled, and then took a second to think. “You want the bed closest to the bathroom. Better mattress and less of a glare on the TV. Gonna need that if you plan on watching.” You nodded your head towards your television.

“I’ll keep that mind,” he said and moved away from the counter, picking up his bag off the floor. “See ya around…” Dean pushed the office door open and hesitated for a beat, to turn and look at you over his shoulder. 

You found his expression amusing and couldn’t help but ask, “Is that a question, threat or a promise?”

He smiled that damned smirk, the one that was now leaning more towards attractive than irritating. “Oh, definitely a promise.”

The rest of the afternoon in the office was quiet, except for the family that came in just before your shift at the front desk was supposed to come to an end. Right as “Monster Tag” came to an end, a shocking burst of noise poured through the front door of the office, as a family of five invaded the small space. Two very exhausted parents were desperately trying to wrangle their three smaller children to be quiet and calm down, and you were disappointed knowing that they were there to claim the very last room available. 

‘So much for chilling out in the nice room for a night,’ you thought as the father finally reached the front desk. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, in your best customer service voice. 

“I need a room, any room. Please,” he begged, his hand was already reaching for his wallet and pulling out a credit card. 

“I only have a King available, but I think there are some cots in the storeroom I could have maintenance bring down.”

“Yes, that’s… that would be wonderful. Every other place for miles is booked solid.”

“Yup, we fill up fast around here. Just fill this out and I’ll get your key,” you handed him the form and put the key on the counter as his credit card processed through, and rang back approved. 

You picked up the office phone and called down to your maintenance man, but there was no answer. Realizing he already left, meant you had to retrieve the cots yourself. Your whole body sighed quietly, as you watched the kids run circles around their mother while simultaneously pulling the brochures out of the holder by the front door. 

You were about to speak up—shout, actually—telling them to stop, but before you could, the door to the office opened again, and this time it was Dean that came strolling through. He caught your gaze over the chaos, and the horrific look of panic on his face caused you to laugh to yourself and think, Dude, I know. This sucks. He just barely dodged one of the kids as they raced around the small office. 

Before you could see what Dean needed, the father of the brood grabbed him assuming he was the maintenance man. “Hey buddy, we’re room 105. Can you bring the cots there?”

“No, sir, that’s not--” you started to speak up.

Dean, immediately grasping the situation, stepped in. “Yeah, sure. Why don’t you guys go get settled in and I’ll have them brought right over.”

From behind him, there was a crash. The mom gasped as one of her kids had gotten pushed squarely into the lamp that resided near the brochures. Dean caught it just as it fell to the floor and set it back where it should be. 

“Oops,” he smiled, and opened the office door to usher the family out to their room.

In a matter of seconds, the room was blessedly silent again and you had an overwhelming urge to kiss or hug him in gratitude. 

“How did you do that so calmly? I was ready to lose my shit.”

Dean shrugged. “Dealing with chaos is kinda my thing. I was just coming by to see if you were still around. I did promise you would see me later.”

“You did,” you smiled, though still tense from the boisterous family. “But I am just about to leave, actually. Just have to deliver those cots, and I am out of here for the night.”

“I can help you if you want.”

“Why would you?”

“You did us a solid. So, the least I could do is give you a hand.”

You studied his face carefully and couldn’t read him. “Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just trying to be a good Samaritan,” he said and flashed you that cocky smirk.

“Mhm… okay. Come on then, I’ll take you up on the offer to help. I’d like to be out of here and home by nine.”

You opened the small half door that swung open to the back of the office and motioned for him to follow you through. Dean continued to follow you through the maze of doors until you stopped at the one labeled “MAINTENANCE”.

Once the door was open, you moved aside so he could enter and flipped on the light. He spotted the cots immediately and moved to start bringing them out. 

“Good God it’s a million degrees in here,” he whined and immediately stopped to pull off the flannel he wore over his T-shirt.

“Well, you’re in Jersey… in August. What did you expect there, champ? A maintenance closet is going to be sweltering this time of year.”

Dean looked over his shoulder with one brow raised. “I don’t see you sweating.”

“I’m used to it. Also,” you gestured towards your clothing and flashed him a sarcastic smile, “...not dressed in jeans and a flannel.”

“Hold this,” he grunted and quickly discarded the flannel, then shoved it into your hands. 

You stepped out of the way and watched as he pulled three of the cots out into the hallway, lining them up against the wall. He reached towards you take his flannel back and didn’t flinch when your hands touched. 

“Uh, 105, right?” he asked.

“Yep. If you can take one, I’ll take one and come back for the other.”

“Not necessary,” he said and grabbed the two cots, one in each hand. “Just grab that last one.”

From the office, you could hear the phone ringing. “Shit. I’ll be right back.”

Getting to the office just as it was about to stop ringing, you answered with an exasperated greeting. “Sunny’s Roadside Inn, how can I help you?”

“Y/N? It’s Carl. I won’t be able to make it in. Can you cover me?”

“Dude? Seriously. That’s the third time this week. Tonight was my night off! I had plans--”

“Watching tv is not having plans, Y/N.”

“Shut up, Carl! So what’s the excuse, huh?”

“My car broke down. Waiting for a tow.”

“You live three miles from here,” you sighed and slumped down into the chair behind the desk. That’s when Dean peaked his head in and as quietly as he could, brought all three cots out into the office. 

“I’ll take your full shift tomorrow, promise.”

“Whatever. Bye.” You slammed the receiver down and let your head fall to the counter. 

“Problem?” Dean asked and walked over to the front of the desk. 

“My night manager called out, so I can’t leave. Gotta stay till morning.” Even you could hear and hated how whiny you sounded.

“Well, that’s some bullshit. Doesn’t he know its Shark Week?!” Dean seemed genuinely bothered by it on your behalf. 

“Some people just don’t have their priorities straight,” you shrugged and stood up from the chair. “Guess I should get these to 105.”

“Wait. I got an idea. You hang here. I’ll drop these off to 105, and be right back. Okay?”

“Uh, okay. Why?” you asked, curious, yet hesitant as to the angle he was working. Dean and his brother may be harmless, but they did come through with a fake credit card and fake names. You didn’t want your hackles to be up, but sometimes it was a necessity.

“Come on, trust me. That’s half the fun,” he teased and flashed a smile that could only mean trouble. Yet, you were still so intrigued by what he had planned. 

“Trust you?” you laughed and walked around the counter to pick up one of the cots. “You came here with a fake credit card for a room. You and your brother look like you’ve been on the run for a year and you want me to trust you?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders along with his entire expression. “Yeah. Look. We’re not on the run, our job takes us all over. As for the card... “ he shrugged again and spread his hands out as if to say what do you want me to say?

The truth was, you liked him. He was cocky and a smidge pushy, but there was something about him that you found intriguing and far different from the normal lot that came in and out of the hotel

“You know, alright. It’s been a weird day. Why not. Take these on down to 105, and for helping me out I’ll give you guys a night on the house.”

“Well alright,” he grinned and headed out to 105 with two cots in hand.

It was an hour before Dean returned for the second time once all the cots had been delivered to the weary family that stumbled in earlier. When he entered the office again, he was carrying several plastic bags that he heaved onto the counter. 

“Alright, we are stocked on snacks,” he said, beaming with pride as he turned one of the bags upside down and spilled its contents across the surface. From the other, he pulled out two six-packs of beer and several lengths of jerky. “We got all your major binge-watching food groups… beer, of course, then jerky… we got your salty snacks, your sweet snacks. Then, for the discerning junk food aficionado like myself, licorice.”

“Licorice? What are you, eight?” you teased as you slowly picked through the snacks, sneaking a glance up at him. 

“Hey, don’t knock it. It's a quality snack food!” Dean replied, exasperated. 

“I’m not arguing. I actually love licorice. I just think it's funny… and kinda cute that you’re so excited about it,” you shrugged, and when you looked up at him, you returned a similar smirk to his own to his and gave him a little wink. 

“Oh,” he said, recanting his expression and returning to a smile. “Good. I was afraid that maybe you weren’t a cute girl, but a monster who doesn’t like good snacks.”

“Haha,” you groaned and motioned for him to come back around. “There’s an extra stool over in the corner. Bring it on over. You’re just in time for the start of ‘Shark After Dark’.”

Dean’s eyes went to the TV as he came around to your side of the counter. “What’s this one about?”

“Sharks… after dark,” you said sarcastically, trying not to laugh as he rolled his eyes. 

“It's like hanging out with my brother,” he mumbled as he grabbed the barstool and moved it over towards yours, but left enough breathing room between the two. 

“Well, I think I’m a little cuter than he is.”

Dean smiled and nodded as he climbed onto the stool. “Maybe a little.” 

He grabbed two beers from the paper sleeves, opened both then handed one to you. Before taking a sip, you clinked the tops of the bottles. 

“To Shark Week,” you said and brought the bottle to your lips. 

“To Shark Week! Also… to new friends,” Dean added, following your lead and taking a long pull from the bottle, but his eyes were fixed to you as he drank.

“New friends,” you repeated and held his gaze for as long as you could before needed to turn away from the intensity of it. 

Strangers came and went every single day of the summer season, and you’d be hard-pressed to describe any of them should someone ask. Not even the frazzled family from hours earlier stuck out as anything special, other than extremely noisy. Something told you, however, that Dean was different. Whether he stayed two minutes, two nights or two weeks… he would never be someone you would forget.

SPN (Dean only) Tags:  @teaspoin // @adoptdontshoppets // @deansenwackles // @whiskeyandapplepie

SPN Everything Tags: @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @kazosa // @deans-baby-momma // @hobby27 // @breereadsthings // @maddiepants // @screechingartisancashbailiff // @winchesterxfamilybusiness // @cloverhighfive // @spnhollis // @unlikelygalaxyiver // @linki-locks11 // @stoneyggirl // @clarinette07 // @lefthologramdeer // @closetspngirl // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare // @katehuntington // @81mysteriouslyme // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson // @lauravic // @akshi8278 // @rebelminxy // @fictionalabyss // @blackcherrywhiskey // @his-paradox

Everything Tags: @coffeebooksandfandom // @sorenmarie87 // @yallgotkik // @thefaithfulwriter // @sister-winchesters99 // @thymeheals // @keymology // @divadinag

[lovemesomesurveys]

Random [made by: ©xspinningisfun]

If you say “haha”, do you sometimes put space between them? [Ex. Ha ha] Sometimes if I’m being sarcastic I’ll type “Ha. Ha.” <<< Yeah, that’s my sarcastic laugh online. lol.

Did you just finish eating something? Nope. It’s been a few hours since I last ate.

Do you have fruit flies in your house? Ugh, we get them during the warmer months. SO. ANNOYING.

If you see a grammar/spelling error in one survey question, do you fix it I’ll sometimes be casual about it and use the proper spelling/grammar in my answer, or I’ll acknowledge it outright with an *asterisk.

Have you ever seen a spelling error in a book that you read? Yeah, I read a lot of books and I’ve seen it quite a bit.

Ever had a chicken finger sub/sandwich? Not a chicken finger sandwich, but a chicken sandwich (a chicken patty or chicken fillet). 

Are you going out to dinner tonight? No. While restaurants are starting to open up again, I will not be going to any at this time. Even though they have certain protocols in place for social distancing and cleaning, I don’t feel safe doing so.

^Speaking about the word “tonight”, have you ever spelt it “tonite”? No.

What’s up with repeated questions on surveys? I don’t know, but it’s annoying.

What’s in your wallet? Credit cards and my ID.

Do you grind your teeth? No.

Have you ever watched a movie and it sucked so bad, but you continued to watch it to see if it got better? Yeah. If I get far enough I have to see how it ends at least.

Do you type “mhm” a lot? Not a lot, but sometimes.

Have you ever tried eating peanut butter to get rid of your hiccups? I haven’t heard of that life hack. How would that help?

Ever read any of E.B. White’s books? I’m familiar with Charlotte’s Web and Stuart Little, but I’ve only seen the movie versions. 

Do you have a garage? Yes.

How many acres do you have at your house? Uhh I live in a duplex. It’s not big.

Do you think it would be cool if one of your family members was your neighbor? I’d love if one of my aunts lived next door. She and I are very close and it’d be fun. 

Does your makeup smear a lot? I haven’t worn makeup in a long time, but whenever I did I always had an issue with my eyeliner smudging in the corner.

Ever heard of the band As Cities Burn? If so, do you like them? I don’t think so.

Would you do a survey if all the questions were typed in internet lingo? [Ex: how old r u?; do u have a pet?; whats ur name?; etc.?] Noooo. I’d find that very annoying. 

Do you remember the first time you experienced the Internet? Not the very first time exactly, but I remember the early days of using the Internet in general. Like the AOL days. :O

If you use email, do you open up emails from addresses you don’t recognize? Nope.

Have you ever watched America’s Funniest Home Videos? I did when I was a kid. Back when Bob Saget was the host.

Are you still in your pajamas? Yep.

[©xspinningisfun]

[berlinaura]

Man it has been an eventful week. After settling down to my room and unpacking my things I listed down everything I need and went for a long shopping day on Wednesday. I bought for example a plastic container for leftover food (our fridge is ridiculously small!), hangers, extra set of bed sheet and food.  At first I thought I would have to dry my laundry in hangers but then I realized that we have plenty of equipment from laundry racks to cleaning supplies that I had nothing to worry about. I already washed my first batch of clothing successfully even though I had no idea what each of the 9 programs of our washing machine do.

Thursday 3rd of October was the national holiday of Germany, der Tag der Deutschen Einheit. A celebration of the German reunification. My buddy invited me to go to the celebration in Brandenburger Tor so we went. We enjoyed the market and live music and went for a long walk in the area of Reichstag building and Hauptbahnhof. We thought (falsely) that the only place where we could get snacks for a movie that would be open would be the main train station. Then we walked to Sony Center in Potsdamer Platz and watched two movies in a row. At first I thought it would be absolute madness but then I realized how genius it is! Gemini man would get a 3/5 from me and IT part II 4/5.

On Friday my roommate asked me if I wanted to come to a museum with her and her new friend. Of course I’d go! We visited Neues Museum at the museum island. We observed some bath tub looking sarcophagi and saw Nefertiti herself.

I wasn’t supposed to do anything outrageous on Friday because I had been feeling a bit ill and wanted to have a rest before the upcoming orientation week. After the museum visit my roommate threw a pre-drink gathering at our apartment and I had a moment of weakness so I joined and went clubbing with them. I am glad though because the evening was fun!

In my opinion the club was no different from the clubs I’ve been to in Finland. As I heard someone say earlier, the erasmus parties aren’t probably the best Berlin club parties there are. For my first party in Berlin it was good enough though. And I am a bigger fan of the pre-parties and casual pub evenings anyways.

On Saturday I woke up feeling okay and wondered about it for a moment. Then I stood up and realized I was still drunk. I used this energy to clean up the kitchen because flies around stacked beer pong cups aren’t a pretty sight after a night out. On the late afternoon I went thrift shopping to Humanas and found a cute skirt I can wear the next time when going out. I felt like I didn’t really pack any clubbing clothes so I had a mini crisis on Friday and ended up going in just jeans and a T-shirt.

Sunday was my chill day. (As if everything before it was such a hard work!) I binged Shameless UK on Netflix for a couple of hours until me and my roommate went to get a drink at Boxhagenerplatz. The place was full of cozy bars and I thought I’d definitely be going there again! I had probably the best gin & tonic I’ve ever had in my life. 

Monday was my last day before orientation week. I was hanging out in Alexanderplatz, getting some final school supplies and I thought “maybe some erasmus students would like to meet today” so I sent an invitation to our facebook group. Luckily a shit ton of people were interested! People wanted to meet quite late but luckily I got a Swedish and a French girl to meet up with me beforehand. I was asked if I know any cool bars in Berlin and all I could come up with was the place I was the day before so we met at Boxhagenerplatz “:D” but it was good and the bars were great! 

Later we met with the whole group in a bar called The Castle and it, once again, is a bar worth going back to. The bartender was super nice as well as the atmosphere. We talked and enjoyed drinks for several hours until I had to do the adult thing and go home to get some rest for the first day of orientation week. 

 Navigating through the campus was less stressful when you already knew some people. The room of the information session was so retro. Some parts of the campus seem so modern and beautiful. There’s this one place that looks like a museum because it is so aesthetically pleasing. Then there are these run-down hallways and classrooms that look like they’re from the 70′s. Nevertheless the info session was somewhat useful as was the campus tour afterwards. 

TUB makes some administrative matters a bit too complicated and they know it! For example, when I want to search through the courses, I go to the course catalog (Vorlesungsverzeichnis, available only in German) to see the name of the course and the timetable. When I want to know what the course is about, what are the prerequisites and how many credits it is worth, I go to MOSES. Then there’s a different place for the material, possible course sign up, exam sign up etc. This all makes me appreciate the compact student portal we have in Finland. 

Another thing that makes me go WTF is that most of the courses don’t require a sign up! We just go to the first meeting, greet the teacher and announce that we are there to learn. We don’t even sign up for exams because we “don’t exist in the system”. 

I also knew that Germans like to use cash but I wasn’t prepared for this!! We need to pay at school cafeterias with a Mensa card but the machines that allow us to load money to the card only accept cash money (and not even coins). Many bars only accept cash and the ones that proudly advertise they accept card payments have a 5-10€ minimum limit for the purchase. This is something that I’ll probably get used to and I hope that a proper wallet makes my life easier. I should have thought about that before coming here.

Because of the program for the orientation week was sold out in such a short time, I could only get tickets for two events: visit at Urban nation museum and a walking tour in Kreuzberg. Many didn’t even get that so I am lucky. To compensate the lack of official events, we decided to go bowling with a group of people I got to know on Monday. Turns out Alexanderplatz is a pretty popular place to go bowling even on Tuesday evening so we didn’t got in the first place. Luckily the second one was just a 10 minute walk away and we had a nice game there. Afterwards we went for a drinks in Hackescher Markt and I ordered my first lager! 

The evening was successfull but unfortunately I also got to see two rats! I was told to get brave and set a goal to get rid of my rat fear by the end of my erasmus year but I’m not sure if I can do it. After seeing the rats I do feel a bit less nauseated by mice though so maybe it will be possible to get over my rat fear as well.

Today we went to listen to another info session at campus. This one was about courses, the sign ups and all that. Everybody is just as confused by the lack of an official sign up - why can’t TUB just come to this century and open an online sign up for courses!! After the info session I decided to go for a walk so I decided to go to Märkisches Viertel in Norhern Berlin. I wanted to see the place after hearing Sido’s “Mein Block” and also just get a walk because the sun was shining and for once I had no rush to anywhere. Judging by my short visit, Märkisches Viertel is like the Hervanta of Berlin. 

Of course as soon as I was on the border of Berlin so pretty much as far as I can get from the city centre, some people at the erasmus group wanted to meet in the centre with a short warning. I decided to skip it all and headed home for a nap after which I finally sorted out my courses. My timetable is currently very full but I don’t want to have the risk of failing a course and then not getting enough credits. I want to a have the possibility to drop a course if it feels too difficult. 

I am looking forward the rest of the week! Tomorrow I’ll go to the campus again because there’s some sort of fun (?) meeting planned with the buddies and exchange students of TUB. In the evening I’ll go to the movies again to see Joker! On Friday there’s the museum visit and an international erasmus party at the same club as last week. This time there will be people from TUB so I am excited to go again. On Saturday late afternoon (important and calculated factor!) there’s the walking tour in Kreuzberg. I haven’t been to that area so much so it’s nice to check it out. And then for Sunday I plan to go to see the Reichstags dome from the inside and maybe do something with the roommates. 

# livin the dream

[banklady]

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