#went to a flatsharing

[wagingmywarsbehindmyface]

JONAH HAUER-KING photographed by (extra talented David Loftus in between shooting The Tattooist of Auschwitz in April 2023

(this photoshoot is everything, b&w, iykyk ✨)

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

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

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

_

edit: the full fic xx

[lvstrucks]

notes 💌

lando norris x reader

Request: Imagine reader feels like she hasnt spent time with Lando in a couple days so she starts leaving fluffy and funny notes around their apartment for him thank youuuu

It felt like it had been days since you’d last properly spoken to your boyfriend.

Despite you both being in the same city, your shared apartment may as well have been a flatshare with strict agreements to never be in the apartment at the same time. Due to conflicting schedules, it seemed that as soon as Lando arrived home, you were rushing out the door to work. When you pulled into the driveway, Lando would be pulling out, giving you a cheeky beep of the horn and blowing you a kiss as he went. 

By the fifth day that went on like this with no end in sight, you’d had enough. A small stack of colourful sticky notes on the kitchen counter caught your eye and you hunted around for a pen, putting your plan into action. 

Lando arrived home with a sigh. The apartment was dark and quiet for 8pm, but with the hours you were currently working this wasn’t out of the ordinary. He kicked off his sneakers and padded into the kitchen, frowning as his stomach growled. He’d finished all his carefully prepped, diet-abiding meals for the day, but maybe a snack couldn’t hurt? As he flicked on the overhead light a small post it note in his favourite bright yellow colour stuck to the fridge caught his eye. It sat between a few fridge magnets and a strip of photobooth pictures of the two of you, you sitting on Lando’s lap and pulling a silly face as he grinned widely. He smiled softly at the memory, and then even wider as he read the note. 

Hope you had a good day! I got some of those puffed crisps you like, have a few. You’ve earned it :) 

He pulled open the pantry and sure enough, there they were. He tore open the packet, scoffing a few down before heading down the hallway to your bedroom. He changed into sweatpants quietly and curled up beside your sleeping frame before hearing a crinkling, crumpling sound as he lay his head down. Feeling around blindly, his hands came into contact with another small note and he flicked on the bedside lamp to read it. 

Rest up, I love you ♡

He pouted, turning off the light and snuggling into you, head tucked into the back of your neck. 

The next few days continued as before, but Lando found your notes around the house like small glimmers of love. 

Don’t work too hard! was laying on top of his workout gear one morning.

Drive safely please! stuck to the steering wheel of his car.

BEST BF EVRRRR was sitting on top of his shoes when he went to put them on. (He quietly tucked this one into the back of his phone case for later.)

When he looked into the mirror after stepping out the shower, he was met with: There’s that pretty smile!

Wanna spoon?  Stuck on the cutlery drawer. 

Let’s do cardio together tonight… was on the door to his home gym. 

You left the notes and noticed they’d disappeared by the day after, assuming Lando read them, smiled and threw them out. What you didn’t realise was that Lando was collecting them, making a neat pile in the glove compartment of his car. Over the next few days, whenever he felt lonely or needed assurance, he had a whole pile of your feelings to sift through and bask in. 

When you woke up a few days later, you sighed at the cold, empty bed. Opening your eyes you were met with a fluro yellow square covering your eyes. You giggled, pulling the note left on your forehead. 

Morning pretty girl, it said. I took the afternoon off and will pick you up from work. We have a LOT of catching up to do ;) 

tysm for requesting x

[thedreadvampy]

My housemate is moving out in January

She told us this a week or two ago, when she sat down and, after sitting with us watching TV for over an hour, said "hey so I bought a house and I'm moving out. We agreed on 2 months notice so I won't move until the end of January."

The last time she talked in the immediate terms about buying a house was in 2021, when the sale she was working on fell though and she was unemployed so it was a "when I'm back in a position to look I'll start looking again." Since then I've occasionally asked her how she's doing on the house buying front and she's been like "oh I'm getting there financially" but hasn't mentioned anything concrete.

She didn't tell us she was looking at places. She didn't tell us she had put in an offer. She told us when the offer was finalised. A week AFTER she emailed the letting agent about getting out of her part of the lease. And, it increasingly feels like, only because the letting agent's response was that we had to agree to change the lease.

The letting agent's response (which our housemate obviously didn't copy us into; we had to follow up separately and they copied us into the email chain) also includes that when we change the lease, they're empowered to change the rent, quote, "no cap". Rent was already going up in January - there's no possibility of Sam and I paying her share of the rent.

The really fucking upsetting thing is we're not strangers. This isn't a casual "housemate we found on flatshare" thing. She and Sam have lived together literally their entire adult lives. Me and her have known each other well over a decade. I lived in her and Sam's flat when I was homeless. We were the first people she came out to as trans. We're not super close but I thought we were fucking friends. And she's literally gone out of her way to not talk to us about this for what must have been months while the sale completed - which means she's lied to my face at least once cause I've asked her about her finances in that time (cause she's in a job she hates that she only took to get the house money, so it's like. when we've been commiserating about work stuff I'm often asking 'are you almost free?'). she literally went out of her way to talk to the letting agents before talking to us about putting us in a situation where we could lose our fucking home.

And she keeps. trying. to pretend nothing's happened. Every time I've seen her since then she's not mentioned anything or apologised or anything, she just keeps chatting away and offering hugs and fistbumps like nothing's happened. Like we're still fucking friends.

All it would take for us to still be friends and to be happy for her would have been one fucking sentence in the groupchat like "hey, just put an offer in on a house" or "I'm looking at properties, just so you know, that might happen in the next few months". Like nobody begrudges her for buying a house! It's very cool for her! She's 31 she's worked really hard to get the money I would love to be happy for her! Unfortunately she decided avoiding conflict is more important than giving the people she fucking LIVES WITH (who btw fronted her a month on the rent here while she was unemployed and agreed to take on a larger proportion of the move-in cost back in 2021, if we're still holding ourselves to shit we said 2.5 years ago), so no, you are not entitled to our friendship or to going back to normal.

like if she'd been honest with us it would have been something to process but we'd have had time to figure out our next steps. instead she's left us in a position where we have to find a new roommate before she gives her one month notice, which means finding someone by the end of December, which oh look that's the middle of the fucking Christmas holidays. and she didn't tell us anything until the START of December, or copy us into her conversation with the letting agent, meaning we still don't know what the rent on that space will be so we aren't yet in a position to advertise it. Has she offered to help find a roommate? Has she fuck. Has she offered to help out by moving her move-out date? Nah, she's moving as soon as she gets the keys because, quote, "that means her finances won't have to change". SOUNDS LOVELY. NOT HAVING YOUR FINANCES SUDDENLY CHANGE. I THINK THAT SOUNDS LIKE A REALLY REASONABLE FUCKING GOAL.

Thirteen fucking years she's lived with Sam. Four fucking weeks over Christmas she's left us to figure out a way to not turbofuck our living situation. And she's got the fucking nerve to try and pretend we should be interacting like nothing's changed. Jesus Christ. What a fucking unhinged way to treat...anybody, honestly. never mind the friends-your-entire-adult-life part. literally cannot imagine a scenario in which I would buy a house without telling the people I lived with.

(haha actually this is what my parents divorced over so apparently it's not unusual. although at least my dad had the decency to tell the woman he shared finances with at the point he put in an offer not the point the fucking sale went through.)

Like we'll be fine. It's a huge city centre flat with decent rent and queer housemates, hopefully even when the rent goes up it'll be an easy sell in a city with a huge housing shortage and big queer community. We've got a couple of people interested already, sight unseen - worst case scenario we have to live with someone we don't get on with. And it's given Sam and me a push to look at our own finances and as of today, we've got a mortgage decision in principle and can start looking at flats in the area - mind, we'll be transparent upfront and tell any prospective housemates that yeah, we're looking to buy and move out in the next 6-12 months, and we'll tell them if we put an offer in, because we're decent fucking people who aren't going to spring that on someone out of the blue.

But it's been I think 2 weeks and I'm so fucking angry I could spit. It's such a fucking betrayal. And frankly you know selfishly like. I just had a breakup a couple of months ago, I'm in the middle of moving jobs, both me and Sam have a history of housing instability and this has been the first decent, stable, safe, not-mouldy not-freezing home I think any of us have had, and this is so fucking triggering and upscuttling I could just start biting. like I was talking to my friend about it last week and it's just like. Can I have One Fucking Thing of the three main tentpoles of survival - home, work, relationships - that are fucking stable right now? because shit has been In Flux lately. and at least the work and relationship stuff has changed because of my decisions. going through all that work to make myself short-term unstable to gain long-term stability has been really hard and draining and then just as I was reaching the crisis point with work stuff BOOM, IT'S HOUSING INSTABILITY WITH A STEEL CHAIR. fuck. seriously fuck this and fuck her. we're going to make something good come of it but what a deeply, unbelievably shitty thing to do.

[v1smokewife]

my roommate is fucking slut! *gone wrong* *romantic edition* - series

Encounter One: Scream For Me (Kink: cnc)

Summary: Sanji and Zoro are two of five in a flatshare. On the outside, they look like frienemies that bickered. However, there was much more beyond closed doors.

or

Sanji and Zoro are in a BDSM freeuse situationship. Each chapter is a different encounter. Eventually, feelings will start to get in the way.

So I kinda vaguely wrote about this idea on Tumblr a long time ago. The concept is as it says in the summary. I am WILLING to take requests for kinks or scenarios for them to try. I don’t have much rules regarding requests (no beastiality or underage characters). I won’t take non-con PURELY because it doesn’t fit the story. I’ll write most kinks, even if I don’t personally enjoy them.

I am also writing Sanji as FTM Trans. I’ve never written him as anything other than cis but I’ve been interested in writing him as that.

Content warning: CNC. Knife play and humiliation

It was one of those nights where Sanji was at home alone. His apartment, which was a flat share with his friends, was mostly empty. There were others in the flat, but they were all in their own rooms or out for the night. The five of them and most of them were out for the night but not Sanji. No, tonight was going to be a home cooked meal to himself and a movie before going to bed tonight. A horror movie. Although he wasn’t one usually for horror films, tonight felt like the kind of night for a horror film. Something equivalent to Scream. That kind of teenage horror film. Not normally something he was interested in but tonight felt like the kind of night for a horror film.

Well, it was…that was until his phone rang. He was in the middle of boiling vegetables for his meal when his phone on the counter next to him started to ring. The number came up unknown; but Sanji went to pick it up. It could be one of his flatmates; it wouldn’t be the first time that one of his flatmates called from an unknown number.

He picked the phone up and placed it to his ear.

“Hello,” Sanji said, balancing his phone on his shoulder as he stirred the vegetables.

“Hello?” There was a voice on the other end of the phone, “Who is this?”

Sanji’s eyebrows knotted together, “Who are you trying to reach?”

“What number is this?” The voice spoke which confused Sanji more. They phoned him.

“I think you have the wrong number…’ Sanji moved the vegetables off of the stove and turned the oven off at the wall.

“Do i?”

‘You must do…” He moved to take his phone in his hand, “It happens. Take it easy,” and that was when Sanji put the phone down. He moved into the living room, he went and sat on the sofa but not more than two seconds after he was sat down, the phone ran again. It was the same unknown number. Sanji rolled his eyes before picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“I guess I must have the wrong number,” It was the same man.

“Why did you dial again?” Sanji narrowed his eyes. It didn’t feel like a very good excuse to him.

“To apologise,”

“You don’t need to apologise,” A roll of the eyes again. Sanji was about to hang up until the voice replied.

“Please don’t hang up,” There seemed to be a small amount of urgency in his voice, “I want to talk to you for a second,”

“I’m busy,” Sanji replied.

“What’s your name,” Completely ignoring the fact that Sanji just said he was busy.

“Why do you want to know my name?” Sanji slowly got up as he spoke.

“You have a pretty voice. I wanna know who I’m talking to,”

The weirdest compliment he’s ever received over the phone but okay.

“I’m away to have my dinner and watch a movie. I don’t have time for this,” Sanji’s voice was a little bit firmer than before.

“A movie? What kind of movie?” The voice only sounded more and more persistent to talk to him. Sanji rolled his eyes and moved back into the kitchen. Out of uneasiness, his hand glazed over the kitchen knives. Surely this wasn’t a creep. It was just a guy wanting to talk to him. Perhaps he was lonely.

‘A scary one,”

“Do you like horror films?” The voice asks and Sanji shrugs out of indifference.

“Not really. My roommate is coming over for dinner…we’re watching a movie,”

“Oh? So, you have a girlfriend?”

What the hell is this? Twenty questions, “No I don’t,”

“A boyfriend?”

Sanji hesitates for a second before answering, “Not really. We’re just friends. Do you wanna ask me out or something?”

“Maybe. You didn’t tell me your name though,”

“Why do you want to know my name?”Sanji leans against one of the counters making sure everything is turned off in the kitchen, but he wasn’t prepared for what he was about to say.

“I want to know who I’m looking at…”

Silence.

Sanji looked around his apartment. Nothing. There was nothing. No sign of life that wasn’t him. This could be one of his flatmates playing a prank on him but…

“I have to go,”

“Don’t go,”

Sanji hanged up the phone and placed it in his pocket. He moved to the hallway that was between the kitchen and the living room. There was no sound of anyone in the hallway. He looked at the door that led to his bedroom and…nothing. There was no one there too. All he was left in was the silence. The silence that sat with him like an uncomfortable present.

He was fine with that, but he jumped out of his skin when heard the phone’s ringtone pierce through the silence with its unwanted presence. He debated not answering it but curiosity got the better of him and he had no choice but to pick it up.

“Listen here asshole,”

“Listen here, you bitch. Hang up on me again and I’ll skin you,”

This time, the voice was angrier and more threatening. Sanji stopped in his tracks as he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him by that alone.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” Sanji growled, making his way to the other hand of the hallway on the opposite side, looking the front door.

“To see what you look like when I fuck you like a little bitch,”

Sanji felt his body shiver at that, so he immediately hanged up. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know if he should go back into the living room or investigate further into the house. He didn’t even know if any of his flat mates were in their areas, so he just went back inside to go more towards his bedroom. Every step making him feel as if he was hearing things that were going on in the house. Once he got to the front of his bedroom, he pushed the door open only to go inside.

His bedroom was tidy as it normally was. The only mess that was inside was the usual mess. The books that were strewn around the place were cookbooks he had been studying but other than that, there was no sign of a break in. Sanji went inside and stood in the middle of the room. He looked around. He couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched right now.

That was when the phone rang again.

“Shit…” Sanji breathed out, looking around before answering it, “Look asshole…this isn’t funny anymore…”

No answer. Sanji looked around growing more and more frustrated.

“Fuck you. Stop fucking with me and-“

Wrong move. Sanji turned his back away from the wardrobe and that was a fatal error. Bursting out of it was a tall man in a creepy Halloween style mask and a robe, similar to the kind Ghost face would have worn. By the time Sanji was able to react, it was over. Sanji was grabbed and pushed onto the bed that he was standing inches away from. A knife appeared in the man’s hand as the emotionless eyes peered at him.

Fight or flight kicked in. When Sanji realised what was going on, he kicked his legs out hoping to catch him but the man grabbed his foot and twisted it. Not enough to break anything but enough that it’s a warning. He grabbed his leg and pulled him closer by force.

“Fuck…fuck!”

Sanji continued to kick his feet like a toddler having a tantrum, but the man expertly dodged each attempt of kicking his face. Grabbing his leg, he grabbed his knife once again from his belt and placed it against Sanji’s neck who froze for a second. Words didn’t need to be said. One wrong move and Sanji was going to be a bloody mess on his own bed. This caused him to gulp. The knife teasing his throat when he did.

Moving down, the knife moved down his body and onto his chest. As it did, he made sure to slice each of the buttons on his shirt, so they came popping out. His shirt fell open and his pale chest was on display. If Sanji moved, he swore the man would stab him. The tip of the knife was drawing very light patterns down his chest. He moved the knife to gaze against one of his nipples which was standing on its edge. Sensitive. Sanji groaned at the cold feeling of the knife which brought a chuckle out of the man as his leather gloved hand reached forward to tease it roughly. Pulling and nipping it lightly which caused Sanji to cry out.

As much as Sanji hated it, the nips and pulling went straight between his legs which caused his thighs to press together. He had hoped the man didn’t notice but he did, and he could only laugh more.

“Pathetic.”

The first word he’d heard from him. Familiar sounding. Like he knew the voice. He’d heard it before. However, his thoughts were taken out when the man stopped toying with him nipple and moved it down his stomach and then…the front of his pants. He pressed the blunt end against him. Sanji knew how wet he must be getting. Even more so with the blade pressing hard against his clit.

“Please…not there…”

The man did the exact opposite and dropped the knife to the side for a moment only to pull his pants off. Which much a struggle though because Sanji started to kick and punch all over again but he could only laugh as he managed to get Sanji’s pants off, boxers and all. Right in front of the man’s eyes was a soaking wet hole for him to enjoy.

“Slut.”

Sanji’s eyes widened with anger, but it wasn’t for long when a couple of leather cladded finger pressed against his pussy. More importantly, rubbing against his clit. It was embarrassing how soaked he was getting as he felt the fingers rub his clit in circular motions, slowly. It took everything in Sanji to stop himself from moaning or pushing his hips against him for more. The man’s other hand reached to unbutton his trousers to let his cock spring out. Sanji’s eyes widened at the look of it. So big, thick with prominent veins. How was it going to fit inside of him?

Wait, it wasn’t going inside of him??? Was it???

“Don’t you dare…don-“

The now free hand shot up and grabbed Sanji’s neck, pressing down harshly. As the hand stroking his clit stopped touching him, he grabbed his own cock. The man’s eyes could have watched the sight of his cock being engulfed by Sanji’s beautifully tight pussy but inside, he wanted to watch his eyes. He wanted to watch them widen in despair as he sinks his cock deep inside of him. He pressed his head against the warm, inviting hole and watched Sanji’s face morph with embarrassment and pain as he sinks his cock in.

Inch by inch.

Sanji was tight. Maybe he should have prepared him beforehand. Oh well. There was nothing that could be done about it. For Sanji, this was so wrong. He felt his cunt being stretched so tightly around the large thick cock inside of him. Sanji was about to beg him to stop…to pull out now but he could barely get a word out when his hips were grabbed by the hand that wasn’t gripping his neck and started to thrust into him. Not caring to let him stretch out or anything. Sanji might as well not be there and instead a toy or a doll with a realistic pussy because that’s what Sanji felt like.

Sanji tried everything not to moan and groan. It was hard when t felt so good though. He couldn’t deny it and it was embarrassingly awful for him to think that. He couldn’t admit that. He could never admit it to anyone.

“My little pet...”

The man was a man of very few words as he continued to fuck Sanji on his cock like this. At one point he stopped and pulled out which Sanji was delighted about but that was only for him to let go of his neck and then manhandle him onto his hands and knees. Instead of holding his neck, he was gripping handfuls of long hair and pushing his cock back inside of him. His hips were bouncing off of Sanji’s ass. A hand came down and smacked him, hard which caused a groan to come out of Sanji whose resolve was breaking from the sounds of the moaning and groaning.

“I’m going to cum inside you…fuck…get you pregnant…”

“W-Wait…” Sanji was about to protest till he felt a hand reach down and begin to rapidly stoke his cit again. Clearly, he was waiting for Sanji to cum on his cock first before he filled up his womb.

“Hmm…you’d look good pregnant…” The voice was cracking. Sanji felt overwhelmed with it all that it took himself no time at all before he was tightening around his cock. Sanji arched his back, pushing himself down further on the man’s cock as he felt him continue to plow him. Pleasure erupted through out his body and his walls fluttered around the large cock inside of him, squeezing him.

“That’s it… gonna.. give you a baby...” The man’s voice cracked through completely. He pushed himself in entirely before emptying himself entirely in Sanji’s cunt, rutting his hips against him. He continued to fuck Sanji until their orgasms had been ridden out. Them, he pulled out. He watched the cum and juices seep out of Sanji’s cunt as Sanji fell against the bed. His leather clad finger reached out and scooped some of the cum and pushed it back inside Sanji who groaned, now laying on the bed.

There was a beat of silence before…a rustling of fabric. Sanji didn’t turn around.

“The mask is ridiculous…where did you get it…?”

There was a scoff before the sound of something falling to the store, “You didn’t give me much chance to buy something. Halloween was a week ago…why didn’t you want this then?”

Sanji rolled over to look over at the man in the room. He was no longer a stranger to him as he saw that messy green hair and the handsome face with the scar on his eye. This was Zoro. Zoro was one of his roommates. Zoro and he had a…special relationship.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t think to do this a week ago. The phone was kinda cheesy too…this isn’t the 80s,”

Zoro gave him a scowl, “Did you enjoy anything about tonight?”

Sanji’s face looked like it was thinking although he was exaggerating to annoy Zoro purposely, “Everything else was fine… I guess…”

“You’re such a spoiled brat..do you know that?” Zoro sat on the bed next to Sanji. Sanji moved closer to Zoro and lay his head on his knee.

“You’re such a rude bastard,” He stuck his tongue out. They sat there for a few moments. Zoro didn’t say anything before speaking again.

“Did you really not enjoy this?”

“Zoro I’m kidding. It was good…” Sanji moved to roll on his back, “Your costume was cheesy though. I do mean that. But…I forgot it was you at points and…I’ve never felt more aroused in my life,”

A bit more happier with that answer. Zoro moved to lay next to him, “Do you still want to watch a movie?”

“If you don’t have anywhere else to be…” Sanji rolled his eyes, “You better not because I made dinner for both of us,”

“Where else would I have to be?” Zoro answered watching him,”I’ll even watch shitty horror films with you…if you want,”

[arda-ancalima]

A Study in Shuffling

Characters: Genshin Asogi, Yujin Mikotoba, Herlock Sholmes Words: 1,743

For TGAA Gen Week Day 1 - Dancing @tgaa-gen-week

(Update - edited version now on ao3!)

-

Genshin stepped back outside and took a moment to glance up at the stars. He wasn’t exactly pleased to get called to a crime scene tonight, but such was detective work. He wandered to the gate of 3 Lauriston Gardens, waiting for Inspector Gregson to return from an errand. A man with a similar silhouette approached in the dark, but to Genshin’s surprise, the man who stepped into the street light was Yujin Mikotoba.

“Ah! Good evening, Genshin,” he said politely.

Genshin raised an eyebrow. They were on the other side of London from the hospital where Mikotoba worked, and farther still from the flat he just moved into on Baker Street. “Good evening. I should inform you that this is a crime scene, so whatever business you have here will have to wait.”

“Oh, it—it’s nothing like that,” Mikotoba said, oddly nervous. “Actually, I was wondering if perhaps…”

Genshin cut him off. “One moment.” He stalked along the fence to the shadow attempting to creep in between the rails. “Mr. Sholmes.”

Sholmes snapped up his head and hit it on a rail, wincing. “Why, Mr. Asogi! Fancy meeting you here of all places!”

“I could say the same,” Genshin said dryly. “All right, on your way.”

“Of course.” Sholmes’ grin shone in the lamp light. “Just as soon as I’ve had a look at the crime scene.”

“No,” Genshin said firmly. He saw Mikotoba hovering nearby and put up a hand. “One moment, Yujin.”

“Oh, er, you see…” Mikotoba began.

“He’s with me,” Sholmes said.

“Ha!” Genshin barked. “I’m sure.”

“Tell him, Doctor.”

 “Lying will get you nowhere. Now quit bothering this man and—“

“Er, Genshin,” Mikotoba interrupted. “I am here with Mr. Sholmes.”

Genshin whipped around to stare at him. “What?” he said dumbly.

“This is my flatmate, Herlock Sholmes. Mr. Sholmes, this is my friend, Genshin Asogi.”

Sholmes extended his hand and Genshin automatically went to shake it. “Pleased to—no, I know who you are!” He snatched his hand away. “What do you mean, your flatmate?”

“I told you about that flatshare on Baker Street, right?” Mikotoba said.

Horror filled him. “You didn’t tell me he lived there!”

“I didn’t know you were acquainted.”

“This is all fascinating stuff,” Sholmes said, making it clear that he thought it was anything but. “However, we are on a rather tight schedule, so if we could just…”

“I thought I made it clear on several occasions that civilians, even amateur detectives such as yourself, are not allowed at any crime scene,” Genshin said.

Sholmes drew himself up to his full height, which was still a good few inches shorter than Genshin. “And just how is Scotland Yard coming along on this case?”

Narrowing his eyes, Genshin glared at him. They were going nowhere, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Sholmes.

“That’s what I thought,” Sholmes said, his smug look doubling Genshin’s irritation. “Anyway, I was invited by Inspector Gregson.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Just ask the good doctor.”

Genshin raised an eyebrow at Mikotoba, who rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well…he was doing a lot of grumbling…and he did mention the address, so…could we take a quick look?”

Genshin couldn’t believe he was actually considering this. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Five minutes.”

“Splendid!” Sholmes said, climbing up over the fence and pumping Genshin’s hand. “You won’t be disappointed, my dear fellow!”

He went ahead into the house and up the stairs, while Mikotoba followed behind with Genshin.

“I’m used to Mr. Sholmes wheedling his way onto my crime scenes,” Genshin said, “But I still don’t understand why you are here.”

Mikotoba shrugged. “I’m not sure myself. But he invited me along, and I had nothing else to do.”

“I really must warn you against him,” Genshin said, lowering his voice. “Especially as a flatmate. The man is a nuisance, and possibly insane.”

“He seems a decent enough fellow,” Mikotoba said. “Eccentric perhaps, but from what I’ve seen, a brilliant man.”

“Listen, Yujin.” Genshin stopped on a landing. “You see the best in people, which is admirable, but can get you into trouble. I don’t want to see you get in over your head. You tend to get swept along in whatever someone asks of you.”

“Yes,” Mikotoba said with a faint smile. “Like how you and Seishiro bullied me into coming to Britain in the first place.” He took the last few steps ahead of Genshin.

Genshin sighed through his nose and stepped up to the door, nodding to the bobby guarding it, and went inside.

Sholmes took a quick look at the body in the middle of the room, before turning his attention to the walls. After he had scoured them, he gestured to the body. “Doctor, if you would.”

“What—me?” Mikotoba said.

“What is your professional opinion, as a medical examiner? It would be very useful to me,” Sholmes said.

“W-Well, I…I’ve only just begun studying post-mortem examinations, but…I’ll do what I can.” He crouched beside the body, carefully turning the head to get a better look at it. “He’s dead, that’s for certain…no signs of head trauma…” He picked up a hand. “No blood, no defensive wounds…erm…heart attack, perhaps?”

“Would it be a crime scene if it was a heart attack?”

“Oh, right, then…poison?”

“Excellent!” Sholmes snapped his fingers. “Now take a look at this marking on the wall and tell me what you make of it.”

Mikotoba jumped when Sholmes pointed it out. “Oh! There is blood! It looks like writing.”

“Rachel,” Genshin said dryly. It had been the most glaringly obvious clue in the room.

“Is that indeed what it says?” Sholmes turned his grin on him, and Genshin got a sinking feeling. “Scotland Yard is falling down on the job these days. This crime is completely transparent to me!”

Mikotoba gaped, and it needled Genshin to see him so impressed. “You—you’ve worked it all out?”

“All the clues are here, we need only put them together.” Sholmes pointed aloft. “It is time for Herlock Sholmes’s Logic and Reasoning Spectacular!”

Genshin groaned as the spotlight fell on Sholmes, who twirled around the room as if it were a stage and pointed to the red writing.

“Here we have a word written on the wall. What does it say?”

“That’s obvious,” Genshin said, his arms folded as he watched from the doorway. “Rachel, though he was interrupted before he could write the ‘L.’ I believe it to be the victim writing the name of his killer.”

“Rachel, is it?” Sholmes said. “Mikotoba, is there any other meaning it might have?”

“Well, this is a bit far-fetched,” Mikotoba said. “But I know a little German. It struck me that it might be ‘rache,’ the word for revenge.”

“Precisely!” Sholmes spun around again. “Don’t lose your time looking for Miss Rachel. The word is revenge, the motive for the murder, written…in tomato paste.”

“Er, Mr. Sholmes…” Mikotoba ventured. “Don’t you think that might be blood?”

“Indeed, it is blood!” Sholmes disappeared from the wall and reappeared near the body. “And just what is this revenge all about? Strange that it was written by the victim, don’t you think?”

Mikotoba said nothing, looking intently at the victim, thinking hard. Then something seemed to light up his face. “Hold it, Mr. Sholmes. That’s not it at all.”

He tapped out a few dance steps before tipping his hat stylishly. “The victim’s fingernails are perfectly clean and smooth. Since the word was scratched onto the wall with blood, it couldn’t possibly be the victim who wrote it.”

“And thus it concludes…” Sholmes spun so that he and Mikotoba could point out the solution together.

“Rache was written by the killer!”

They began work on another clue in the same manner while Genshin watched in astonishment. From time to time, Sholmes turned over the spotlight to Mikotoba, who danced as he explained his own deductions. He was light on his feet, suggesting a certain lightness of heart that had been absent in him for a long time.

Softening at the sight, Genshin almost missed Sholmes appearing behind him.

“Brilliant, isn’t he?”

Genshin chafed at the detective so close over his shoulder. “He is. You on the other hand…”

Sholmes laughed loudly and went off to twirl around the stage again.

Once their deductions were complete, Genshin, to his chagrin, had a much better understanding of the case.

“All right, your five minutes are more than up,” he growled.

“Not a problem at all, my dear fellow,” Sholmes said. “Our work here is finished. Do excuse me, I must fetch the victim’s missing suitcase in the back alley.”

He dashed down the stairs. Genshin and Mikotoba went back outside at a slower pace, waiting by the house while Sholmes conducted his search. Genshin sighed.

“Why don’t you like him?” Mikotoba asked.

“Why don’t I—why do you like him?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain, really.” Mikotoba looked out at the dark street where Sholmes had disappeared. “He fascinates me. Yes, he has some bothersome habits, but he’s the cleverest man I’ve ever met. It’s never a dull moment with him around.”

“Yes but, not being rude Yujin, you’re more of a dull man yourself.”

Mikotoba laughed, filling Genshin with warmth to hear the sound again. “Yes, well, good to keep the mind occupied, you know? I think I’ve had rather enough dreary days all to myself. You were the one telling me to get out more—”

“Not like this!”

“—And to make new friends—”

“Not like him!”

“Genshin…” Mikotoba faced him directly. “I know you’re trying to protect me. And I know you’re older and wiser and know better. But if I am making a mistake, I’m confident I can handle myself.”

If he was honest, Genshin would agree. It was possible Sholmes did have a good side to him, and if he could make Mikotoba laugh again… Well. It’s not like Genshin had much choice in what the detective made up his mind to do, and maybe if Sholmes had Mikotoba to civilize him, he would be less of a pest at his crime scenes.

“Tell me that when I bail the pair of you out of prison,” Genshin muttered.

Sholmes appeared out of the darkness holding a packing case. “Come, Doctor, the game is afoot!” he called.

Mikotoba chuckled. “I’m sure I will.” He wished him goodnight and followed along after Sholmes.

[thxrnking]

Sign Me Up - A Night Children AU One Shot

Tag List: @sparklingdiva678 @libralelia @punsandquips @phoenixriaartemis @sunsetpixels @anja-the-sane-sibling @caitlynnrosespn @anonymous-gremlin @aaamethyst-topazzz

Shoutout to @mightnightmooon for being my injury consultant making sure I don't accidentally kill Pat :3

Summary - When Swan Soldiers attack his apartment building, Pat Quinn doesn't have much time to get as many people out as he can. If he makes it out himself, what kind of life is waiting for him?

Pat Quinn Profile | Nell Quinn Profile | Night Children AU

Everyday there was a new story about an attack somewhere and about twenty more people gone missing. I remember when Cygnus shut its borders. The whole district was in a frenzy and some rich guy paid for increased patrols around Dancity to ‘discourage the rabble’ as they put it.

Sure, I knew about the Swan Empire but I really didn’t like thinking about it. I’m just some guy who sells books in the nice part of Pivet to pay for my crappy apartment in the bad part of Pivet. I didn’t like what was going on elsewhere but what good would I do worrying over it day in and day out?

It was my day off so I was in my apartment. A simple bedsit in the Pointe apartment block, south of Maneater Alley. It’s got a bit of a rough reputation but it’s affordable.

I don’t remember what I was doing but I know there were screams coming in through the window. Like I said, the area’s rough and screams aren’t exactly rare around here so I thought nothing of it. Nothing until there was this massive BWOOM that made the whole building shake.

The walls shook, the ground shook, pictures dropped from the wall, the mirror in my shower room fell. Hell, I even dropped to the floor from the force. Now that isn’t normal and after I scrambled to my feet, I ran for the door.

Several of my neighbours were out there too. Everyone felt it, not just me, and most of them were thinking we’d just had an earthquake. That didn’t sit right with me. I mean sure they can happen but in this part of Dancity? That’s when the shouting and screaming started again, but this time it was muffled. Like it was coming from downstairs; inside the building.

The lower floors of the Pointe are where you’ll find the larger rooms with better accessibility. Designed for the families and those with mobility restrictions. I think there might even be a few flatshares down there. Up on our floor, the fourth floor, you’ll find the single occupants. People who like their own space and a cheap place to stay without caring too much about loads of neighbours. Management told us this was so if we ever had to evacuate the whole building it would be quicker and safer for everyone. When we heard kids screaming, we figured evacuation was probably a good idea.

Obviously the main way in wasn’t an option. Whatever danger was coming for us would be coming that way. Lucky for us the fire exit is at the other end of our corridor, at the opposite end of the building. If we could be quick enough, we would probably get everyone out before they even got to us.

“Out! Everyone out!” I didn’t really bother being quiet, shouting as loud as I could.

No one needed telling twice, everyone heading straight for the door. Meanwhile I went the opposite direction, heading towards the entryway staircase. Someone needed to see how much time we had and I sure as hell wasn’t going to get someone else to risk it.

I hate our Gods-damned entryway staircase. It’s a multi-floor echo-chamber because they laid down that awful awful tile that reverberates every single sound that so much brushes over it. Walking up it on your own on a good day is bad enough, each step bouncing up and down and back and forth, coming at you from every angle and making you question your sanity. I jammed my hands against my ears as I shouldered open the door, knowing it would be so much worse.

The shouting and screams were so much louder and the reverb was Hell, I could feel it in my teeth. Even then, over it all was the steady thrum of multiple people marching as one. 

Marching meant one thing; Swan Soldiers. Our building was under attack from Night Swan, her Soldiers here to take prisoners or to recruit. Neither option sounded good. So an invading force was coming up the stairs, several people were still in the corridor, and thanks to the reverb, there was no way to figure out how long we had until they got here.

As I came back into the corridor, I saw that most people had made it out the exit while some stragglers were still on their way out after having finally given up banging on the still closed doors. Fuck.

On my way to the exit, I banged on each closed door myself. I didn’t want to waste time, banging only two or three times and shouting to get out before moving on. There was no answer at any of them and I really hoped it was because they weren’t home.

Finally, I made it to the end. The Soldiers hadn’t reached us yet, everyone else was out, and I’d just finished banging on the last door. I was thinking we’d made it when it happened. Two thirds of the way down the corridor a door opened and out of the apartment stepped a woman I didn’t know. Couldn’t tell you her name even now but I had a few choice names for her at that moment I can tell you.

Her hair was dishevelled and she was in her pyjamas. She looked rough, exhausted, and pissed. She started shouting about night shifts and irregular schedules but at that point I wasn’t listening. We didn’t have time and I was sprinting right at her.

Seeing me barrelling at her seemed to scare her out of her rant. The building shaking and her neighbours shouting and screaming as they ran for their lives didn’t ruffle her, but a strange young man running at her as fast as he could? Apparently that’s terrifying.

I screeched to a halt on the other side of her and just started physically herding her towards the exit. She tried and failed to argue with me because I just kept pushing her. Whether or not she liked it I was going to get her out that door. When I finally got her to the exit, I pushed her out, told her to run and slammed the door behind her.

This wasn’t the plan. I’d fully intended to be on the other side of that door when I closed it for the last time but I’d realised something while getting that woman out. The original plan wasn’t going to work.

We were running with seconds on our side here, not minutes. The Swan Soldiers would get up here, find our floor empty, and take all of 0.2 seconds to realise where we went. They’d immediately follow us, chase us down and all we would have done would be give them a little extra cardio. Ultimately, it would only delay the inevitable.

If anyone was going to have any hope of getting to true safety, someone needed to stay behind. To keep their focus on the floor for just a minute or two so the others could find somewhere safe. So that was my plan; distract them.

When they finally got to me I was nowhere near the exit, waiting for them halfway down the corridor. I’d seen Swan Soldiers on TV before but this was my first time in person. It was haunting, like looking at a picture of someone who died 20 years ago. Unnatural. Hollow.

As they marched in, I raised my hands in surrender. I figured they’d march straight up to me and take me into custody, after all I was an easy target. Probably their easiest take-down all night, but they kept their distance, merely stepping to the side and watching me with their formless faces.

They were waiting. For her.

I’d heard about the Night Children, everybody had. Still I didn’t want to believe it. All those powerful dancers, defeated by the Night Swan and now fighting by her side. It was unthinkable. Especially Brezziana.

I’ve known Brezz for years. I first saw her during a flash mob she did in Luz Solar Mall years ago. She was energetic, encouraging, exuding warmth and kindness that just made you want to join in. So I did. I made sure someone introduced us and I was right there with her at her next five flash mobs.

I wouldn’t say we were friends. I don’t have her number, couldn’t tell you where she lives, but we would always talk whenever we ran into each other. She’d ask about my family, I’d check in about her friends. We were close enough.

From between the Soldiers, Brezziana strode forward coming to a stop in front of them. What had been bright calming blue, and energetic orange was intertwined with toxic vine-like black feathers tracing up and down her body. Her hair puffs were gone, her purple curly hair half-pulled back and drawn into a messy singular bun. The pink heart, her signature motif, was broken in two.

Her eyes were aflame, burning with glee on top of a wide, emotionless smile that held no warmth. The Soldiers all looked to her, watching and waiting. She was their leader.

“Hello Pat. Mind if we come in?”

She remembered me. Her voice was ice cold, dripping with malice and my hands dropped as I stepped back. My heart sank, my chest felt hollow, and my whole body was numb.

It was true. The truth of the Night Children was stood right in front of me, ready to take me in or take me down. I knew I couldn’t let her, but I had no plan, I had no way out, and I had maybe five seconds before she came for me with no hope of outrunning her or her Soldiers.

My mind raced as I stepped back, desperately trying to think of something, anything. I glanced to the side peeking into a nearby apartment and saw something that gave me an idea. Not smart, not great, but if I did this right it’d leave me better off than I was three minutes before.

“Go ahead,” I said, mostly to distract her. The only thing I had on my side was the element of surprise and if it had any hope of working I needed them not to realise I was going to try something, “I was thinking of moving out anyway.”

Pausing only to give them a two-finger salute, I dashed into the apartment slamming the door shut behind me. Seconds was all I had but it was all I needed as I ran to the window, unbolted it, tore it open, and-

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

“Wait!” Blake interrupts from the doorway.

The room is tiny, more of a converted storage closet. With the increasing raids occurring across Dancity in recent months, the Resistance outpost has had to make space for the countless people who barely made it out somehow. There’s just enough space in here for the cot Pat’s laid on, and the small stool on which Liv is sitting.

“You were toe-to-toe with one of the Night Children, essentially at her mercy, and the best idea you could come up with was to jump out of a fourth storey window?!”

“No. My idea was to jump to the second storey roof of the building next door, then keep running. I didn’t count on breaking my leg.” Pat chuckles gesturing to his left leg that was tightly bound to a splint. It had been in a cast up until last week, but the medic had confined Pat to remain on bedrest a little while longer, just to make sure the bone was fully healed.

Liv gently smiles at him, “Thank the gods we found you before the Soldiers did.”

“Shame you’re pretty much useless.” Blake mutters, not quite under their breath. They’re leant back against the doorframe, arms crossed and scowling. A common occurrence when they came to visit Pat.

As outpost leaders, it was a vital duty of both theirs and Liv’s to check in with those in their custody. Check on their care and make sure they’re safe. Still, Blake wished that Pat wasn’t on the list. There’s nothing wrong with him, though he is annoyingly upbeat, but the dumbass tends to talk. A lot.

“So you’ve said,” Pat snarks back, “many times. Yet I still managed to get those people to relative safety. So maybe I’m not completely useless.”

“Enough.” Liv stands, purposefully placing herself between them. There's a firm glare in her eye as she looks between the two, daring either of them to challenge her interruption.

“I’m just saying-” Pat tries but Liv silences him with a finger in his face as she pins her glare on him.

“You’re supposed to be resting, not picking fights. And Blake,” she turns on her partner, pinning him with the glare now, “Pat is here to recover not be recruited. So back off of him.”

Blake doesn’t meet her eye, his slipping off to the side as they wait for her to stop. She’s right of course, but it’s been a long while since things have Flowed in their favour. Resistance numbers are dropping everywhere. Members are constantly getting captured or scared away. If they’re going to have any chance of surviving in this war, never mind standing a chance at winning, something needs to change and soon.

Liv doesn’t stop staring and Blake gives up.

“Whatever,” they mutter, turning to head out the door. Liv gives a satisfied smile, turning to wave at Pat before she moves to follow after Blake.

“I know you lost your intel guy!” Pat blurts.

So this wasn’t how he’d intended to bring it up. He’d hoped he could ease into it but they were already leaving and he panicked. It works though, both Liv and Blake turning to stare at him in confusion.

“How the hell do you know that?” Blake demands, confusion quickly giving way to anger.

“Well, your secret meetings are maybe not quite as private as you think they are.” Pat can’t help but chuckle nervously.

Blake scowls and waves for Liv to follow them, making a mental note to increase the security around their meetings. Annoyed, Pat pushes himself up on the cot. Sitting up is impossible with his leg as it is but he still tries, holding himself up with his arms behind him as he yells after them.

“I want to help!” He can’t keep the anger from his voice at being so easily dismissed.

Weeks he’s been stuck here, completely alone apart from the occasional visit from Blake and Liv, and whoever brings him food each day. Healing may be important but the isolation has been driving Pat out of his mind. Forced to wait and see when he knows the war is still going on out there; that it’s getting worse.

“I know I’m less than useless in a fight, thanks for the constant reminders!” he calls after Blake bitterly, “But I’m fast, I can think on my feet, and I’ll blend in better than a couple of Eternians!”

He’d thought telling them about the day they found him, how he helped people, how he survived, his semi-connection to one of the freaking Night Children, would convince them he could be an asset but Blake’s already out of sight. They could be halfway down the corridor by now.

Blake refuses to listen. They don’t have time to listen to a Gloveless dumbass with no sense of self-preservation begging to join a fight he has no place in. It’s out of habit that he glances to the side expecting to see Liv walking beside him, only to realise she’s not there.

Blake stops, turning back to see Liv frozen in the doorway, a familiar look in her eye. They cautiously approach her.

“Tell me you’re not considering putting an inexperienced, unGloved citizen into the fight?”

Liv glances to them, her eyes sparkling as they often do when she’s figuring out a solution, “Not into the fight.”

“Liv,” Blake grits through his teeth, but Liv cuts him off.

“We need someone on intel.”

They do. The last three people had gone missing in action, presumed captured. No one honestly knows but it's not hard to make an educated guess. It’s almost impossible to find anyone dumb enough to be willing to take the risk but without intelligence on the Swan Army coming in, they were basically fighting blind.

Blake looks to the cot. Pat’s brow is furrowed in determination as he glares fiercely at them in the doorway.

“He won’t last two minutes if it comes to a fight.” Their voice is barely above a mutter, not wanting Pat to hear.

“Maybe we don’t need a fighter.” Liv quietly offers, “Maybe we need someone who can survive.”

Whatever else happened that day, Pat had survived. He’s reckless, impulsive, untrained, and unGloved but he knew when to run from a fight. He is fast, he can think on his feet, and especially without a Glove, he would draw a lot less attention than most.

Moments drag on until finally Blake gives a sigh of resignation.

“Fine,” he agrees reluctantly, “but only after the medic clears you.”

Pat’s lips draw wide in a bright smile as he fist-pumps in his excitement.

“You won’t regret this.”

Rolling their eyes, and shaking their head Blake turns to leave again.

“I already do.”

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Beginning my experimental journey by downloading 22 episodes each of four different podcasts and giving them all a try (not all 22 episodes of each one, just enough of each one to decide which I like best, and then I'll dedicate a massive chunk of my life to listening to every episode of that one). Starting with Pappy's Flatshare Slamdown, mainly because the first episode (well, the first non-pilot episode, but I'd already heard the pilot) features Andy Zaltzman.

The very first thing he said on the show was "You know I'm Jewish, right?" when told he has to spend the episode fighting to get out of paying a gas bill. Which I found hilarious just because I have listened to literally hundreds and hundreds of hours of Andy Zaltzman, and I have never heard him play that card before. I've heard him make jokes about how he is a "terrible Jew" because he does things like eat bacon and ignore religious holidays and not believe in God. I have, on a couple of extremely rare occasions, heard him talk seriously about how his Judaism (as part of his culture and heritage and ethnicity, even though he does not follow the religion) at times impacts his views on significant issues (it's come up a few times recently as he's argued that he is too Jewish for people to be allowed to call him anti-Semitic when he says genocide of Palestinians is bad). Once or twice I've heard him work his family's Jewish-ness into a comedy bit, but not for jokes about them adhering to Jewish stereotypes, the bit I'm thinking of is the time he managed to do comedy about his ancestors fleeing across Lithuanian borders during the Holocaust.

I have heard him do all those things, though to be honest, the vast majority of times that Andy Zaltzman mentions being Jewish it's just to say he loves pork and is therefore a terrible Jew. I have never, ever heard him make a straightforward "riff on Jewish stereotypes" joke. It's not his style. The only time I've heard Andy interact with jokes like that at all were when he went on Marc Maron's podcast, and Marc Maron kept trying to bond with him over "Oh, don't we know what Jewish families are like?" jokes, and Andy sounded wildly uncomfortable with the whole thing, and said he's not really in the Jewish community and can't speak to that.

Anyway, I'm five minutes into s01e01 of Pappy's Flatshare Slamdown and so far it's already got a laugh out of me for setting Andy Zaltzman up so nicely for the Jewish stereotype joke (hello Jewish man, we'd like you to argue for why you shouldn't have to pay money) that he had to step out of his usual style and go for the low-hanging fruit. Good for him. You take that fruit, Andy. That's what it's there for.

...I assume there will be more to the episode than that. Richard Herring is there as well (this was recorded in 2011, before John Oliver left The Bugle but after he started getting quite famous in America, so I'll be shocked if Richard Herring doesn't get in at least one joke about how both guests are the less successful member of their respective double acts, bonus points if he also names a counterpart in Pappy's), and he's been growing on me lately (not enough for me to put RHLSTP on my list of podcasts I might get into, but he doesn't annoy me as much as he used to), so this should be fun.

[our-time-is-now]

October 22, 2019 (1): Man, Linn… what are we doing here?

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.

Tuesday 6:52 pm:

Linn: ~has heard that Matteo has come home and just hopes that David is with him~ ~waits a few more minutes to be sure, because she doesn’t want to immediately attack them, but then leaves her room and listens~ ~can’t hear anything and continues on to the living room~ ~can see that the door to David’s and Matteo’s room is open - a sign for her that you’re allowed to enter~ ~therefore does that and can see Matteo sitting at his desk doing something on his phone~ ~is quiet for a moment and waits to see if he notices her~ ~but when that isn’t the case, she simply asks~ Where is David?

Matteo: ~arrived home and went to his room~ ~sat down on his desk and typed a few WhatsApp messages out of boredom~ ~suddenly hears Linn’s voice in the middle of the room and flinches~ ~turns around on the chair~ Linn… wow, you really are the quietest person I know… umm, David is still at Lambda. He’s attending the trans group there today… ~puts his phone in his pocket~ But you can text him if you need something?

Linn: ~hears that David isn’t there and nods thoughtfully~ ~had been hoping that both of them would be at home and now weighs her options: To do it without David present or to postpone her plans~ ~slightly shakes her head at Matteo’s suggestion~ I don’t need anything… ~doesn’t really want to postpone her plans and eventually concludes that Matteo can also tell David about it and that they could maybe repeat the appointment together with David~ ~slightly tilts her head, smiles slightly and tells Matteo~ Come with me… ~goes to the door and glances back to see if he follows her~

Matteo: ~looks at Linn expectantly while she seems to think about something~ ~can see her shake her head~ Okay… ~waits to see if there’s maybe something else she wants~ ~then lifts his eyebrows in slight astonishment at her demand~ Umm… okay… ~gets up~ …and where to?

Linn: ~nods slightly in satisfaction when Matteo gets up~ ~continues toward the hallway~ I’ll show you something… ~takes the key from the sideboard and then opens the apartment door~ ~looks back again to see if he follows her and then enters the hallway~ ~walks towards the stairs leading upstairs~

Matteo: ~simply follows her~ Okay… ~then sees her opening the apartment door~ ~is quite glad that he still has his shoes on and that his phone is in his pocket~ Umm… Linn, how much time do I have to plan for? ~follows her but then sees her going upstairs~ Are we going up to enjoy the view? ~but simply follows her~

Linn: ~hears his question while they are going up and stops at the landing to answer him~ Hmmm, I don’t know. Somewhere between 3 minutes and 30 minutes, I’d say…? ~doesn’t know how long something like that takes and is a little nervous for a moment because she doesn’t know how much time Matteo has~ ~takes a deep breath because she’s a little nervous and then continues up the stairs after Matteo seems to be satisfied with her timeframe~ ~shakes her head~ I don’t think it’s much different than ours… ~arrives at the floor above the flatshare and rings the doorbell there~ ~kneads her hands a little in nervousness, but smiles when a young man opens the door~ ~hears him say: “Oh, Miss Shira, Mister Huber has already announced your visit. Come on in and make yourself at home! I’ll be with you in a second! I just have to finish a phone call…”~ ~nods, glances at Matteo and tells the man~ Thank you for making it work so short notice! ~sees as he waves it off, then he puts his phone back to his ear and disappears somewhere in the apartment~ ~smiles slightly and enters the apartment~

Matteo: ~nods when he hears her timeframe~ ~thinks that by then, David definitely won’t be home yet~ ~then grins slightly when he talks about the view~ ~then stares at her when she simply rings the doorbell upstairs~ Linn, what are you doing? We don’t even know those people… ~is then even more surprised when apparently she’s expected~ Umm…. ~enters the apartment after her and says very quietly~ Man, Linn… what are we doing here??

Linn: ~only shakes her head a little when Matteo asks why she’s ringing the doorbell~ ~doesn't want to explain that just now because she’s a little nervous, anyways~ ~but then pulls herself together when the door opens~ ~closes the door behind Matteo once he has also entered, and slightly shrugs her shoulders~ We’re just having a look… nothing bad or anything… ~goes along the hallway with him and enters the kitchen~ ~smiles slightly, because the layout is similar to the one at the flatshare, but it’s furnished quite differently~ ~looks at Matteo and asks quietly and a hopefully~ So? Do you like it?

Matteo: ~has to laugh again because Linn simply is an unique person~ We’re only having a look? Are we looking for something? ~follows her to the kitchen~ ~looks around askingly at her question~ Do I like what? The kitchen? Do you want to get a new kitchen for the flatshare or…? ~shrugs one shoulder~ I don’t know if Hans would be okay with the style….

Linn: ~looks at Matteo in confusion when she hears his question and shakes her head~ What would we be looking for? Did you lose something? ~then nods at his question about the kitchen and then immediately follows it with a shake of her head~ No, I don’t want a new kitchen. I like our kitchen. ~kneads her hands nervously~ I rather meant if you liked the room… ~looks at him nervously~ There are more rooms! Come! ~reaches for his upper arm and pulls him back into the hallway~ ~stops there and says a little downtrodden~ Okay, my room is missing. But the living room is there. And your room. And here, look… ~opens the door to the bathroom~ The bathroom is bigger than in our apartment. ~beams at him, but then gets nervous again when he still looks so confused~

Matteo: ~feels really stupid right now, because he doesn’t know what Linn wants from him~ But why are we looking at a stranger’s kitchen? ~follows her and nods~ Yes, the rooms are cool, Linn, just like our apartment, only a little smaller… ~then sees the bathroom and stares at Linn~ Linn, people live here… why are we here?

Linn: ~frowns slightly at his question~ Well, because I wanted to know if you like it… ~smiles broadly when he says that the rooms are cool and steps aside so that he can have a good look at the bathroom~ ~already goes ahead to the living room~ ~hears Matteo’s question but sees the windows at that exact moment and is pretty thrilled about it~ Look, Matteo! Instead of the doorway to the second hallway there’s a much bigger window here! This room is much brighter than our living room! ~turns around to him and flinches slightly when the tenant is suddenly standing in front of them again and smiles: “I’m sorry that you had to wait so long. But now I’m all yours, in case you have any questions. Who would the apartment be for? The two of you?!”~ ~shakes her head in horror~ Oh no! I live downstairs. I already have an apartment. Hmmm, okay, so does Matteo, but he lives in one room with David and now they want to move out. So the two of them are looking for an apartment. So it would be Matteo… ~points at Matteo~ …and David, but David wasn’t home. But maybe he can have a look at the apartment later?

Matteo: ~is still looking at Linn~ But why?? ~sees and hears that she doesn’t get distracted by him and that instead she continues her exploration of the apartment~ Yes, very bright, Linn, but… ~but then hears the tenant and shuts up immediately~ ~then gapes when he FINALLY understands what this is about~ ~says quietly~ Oh man, Linn… ~looks at the man~ Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you’re moving out… Linn just took me along… but yes, my boyfriend and I are looking for an apartment, when would you move out?

Linn: ~nods again at Matteo’s words and then hears the tenant laughing: “Just took you along, I see…”~ ~slightly shrugs her shoulders~ ~doesn’t think that she forced Matteo into anything and thinks that it’s a good sign that Matteo is asking questions~ ~hears the tenant answer: “We terminated our lease for the first of December… But we can already move into the new apartment from the first of November, so we’ll surely be out of here a few days early. I mean, basically you already know the place… as far as I know, the flatshare downstairs has a similar layout, but feel free to have a proper look. But don’t be startled when you get to the bedroom… there are already several boxes there!”~ ~has listened to the tenant with a smile and now steps towards Matteo~ ~asks quietly and nervously~ Are you going to move in here?

Matteo: ~listens to him and can’t believe how perfect this is~ ~looks from him to Linn and back in excitement~ Wow, the first of December would be perfect for us… ~actually has some more questions but can also ask them later~ ~beams at Linn and says quietly~ Linn, this would be pretty perfect, but I’ll have to talk to David first and… ask how much it costs… but yes, if it were up to me… ~grins slightly~ Why didn’t you tell me from the get-go?

Linn: ~beams when Matteo says that it would be pretty perfect, but then gets serious again immediately when she hears the buts~ ~can understand his point about David very well, but can comfort him about the money~ Herr Huber told me that it costs xyz Euros per month. If you consider the fact that you already pay zyx Euros for your room, and if David has a similar amount at his disposal then it should definitely be within your budget. That’s already a good thing, right? Of course, the utilities are a bit higher because it would only be the two of you that split it, but I think it wouldn’t be that much. If you want to, then I can quickly calculate it for you… ~pulls her phone out of her pocket to use the calculator while she goes to the bedroom with him, so that he can also have a look at that~ ~frowns at his question~ I didn’t? I thought I mentioned it… but it’s actually pretty obvious, isn’t it? Why else would I take you to our neighbors’ apartment!?

Matteo: ~nods slowly when Linn tells him the numbers~ ~lets her calculate~ ~has to talk about all of this with David first, anyways~ ~finds the bedroom really good and catches himself as he considers where they could put the bed~ ~but then laughs at Linn’s counter-question~ No, Linn, you didn’t, you said “come with me” and then you led me through a stranger’s apartment… no idea why you should do that, that’s why I was confused… ~pulls his phone from his pocket~ I think I’ll call David real quick… maybe he can come home sooner… ~turns around to the tenant~ Until what time could he come have a look? ~hears him answer: “Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem until around 9 pm…~ Okay, I’ll see if I can reach him… ~dials David’s number and holds the phone to his ear~

Linn: ~frowns when Matteo says that she didn’t tell him what it’s about and gapes in shock~ Oh, I’m sorry! Of course, that must have been confusing… ~then nods vigorously when he says that he’ll call David~ And I’ll calculate in the meantime… ~points at her phone~ ~then hears the tenant: “And I’ll get myself something to eat - sorry, I just got home myself and I’m hungry…”~

David: ~is having dinner with the Transformerz and feels like he’s slowly but surely getting more comfortable~ ~finds everyone pretty nice, but was still glad that he already knew one or two people from sight from the cafe so that he wasn’t surrounded only by strangers~ ~is simultaneously astonished and thrilled by how open everyone is with each other and is a little overwhelmed to experience so many transgender people all at once~ ~at some point, feels his phone vibrate and pulls it from his pocket~ ~sees that it’s Matteo and frowns~ ~thinks that Matteo would only call if it’s really important because he knows that he’s at this meeting tonight~ ~excuses himself from the others, gets up from the table, leaves the room and answers the call~ ~asks worriedly~ Hey, everything okay?

Matteo: ~has to chuckle when Linn is so startled~ It’s okay… ~only nods at the tenant’s words and then at Linn to show her that he heard her~ ~then smiles automatically when he hears David’s voice~ ~but then hears his worry and answers quickly~ Hey, everything’s okay, more than okay. But could you maybe interrupt the meeting and come home? You won’t believe what Linn has found for us!

David: ~exhales in relief when Matteo says that everything’s okay and laughs quietly~ More than okay!? ~frowns when he suggests he interrupt his meeting~ ~actually finds it a little impolite - especially since it’s his first time~ ~then hears him continue and mention something about Linn and has to smile because he sounds so excited~ ~says lovingly and slightly amused~ Hey… could you maybe tell me so that I can understand it? I mean… this is the first meeting… and I’d really find it a little stupid and impolite to already leave if it’s not really important. What is it that Linn has found for us? ~when it comes to Linn, he always thinks of something odd~

Matteo: ~has to laugh when he realizes that he did the same thing Linn did with him~ Sorry, sorry… so, buckle up… the apartment above the flatshare will be available! From the first of December on! Money-wise it would be okay, Linn is just calculating the utilities for us, but yes… and the guy says that you could come have a look at the apartment until 9 pm… ~takes a breath and has to laugh again because it’s so perfect~ But if you can’t then I’ll ask him if we could come by tomorrow?

David: ~smiles when he apologizes and listens to him~ ~can feel his heartbeat picking up a little when Matteo mentions the apartment and automatically starts to beam~ ~laughs quietly when Matteo finishes and then beams when he can hear him smile, as well~ ~is suddenly pretty excited~ Wow… and… we’d really have a chance? There aren’t 25 other applicants? Did you already see the apartment? Is it nice? But it’s smaller than the flatshare, right? ~laughs again quietly and takes a deep breath~ ~hears his suggestion and immediately shakes his head~ No! I want to see it today! I finally want to have a sliver of hope with this apartment hunt! ~checks the time and sees that it’s only 7:30~ ~quickly thinks and then says~ Okay, listen. I’ll stay here for another 30 minutes or so - by then we should be finished with dinner at least. It would really be weird somehow to immediately leave again on my first meeting… I only just started talking to some people… but if I leave immediately afterwards, then I’d be at the flatshare at shortly after 8:30… that would be early enough, right? If we can go there until 9 pm?

Matteo: ~beams when he can basically hear David beaming~ We really would have a chance by the sound of it… And I am in the apartment right now, it’s really nice… there are fewer rooms than there are in the flatshare, only two, but we wouldn’t really need more… ~then also laughs when he says that he wants to see it today~ Yes, sure, that’s perfect… and tell the Transformerz “sorry” on my behalf, but hey, that’s the chance we’ve been waiting for, right? ~then hears Linn next to him: “He’ll come over today? Tell him I just did the math and you could surely afford it.”~ Did you hear? We’ll talk about all of it once you get here, okay? ~can hear David agreeing and then hangs up~ ~turns to Linn~ Well, he’ll be here around 8:30… let’s take our leave and tell him about it… and you’re certain that there aren’t 25 other people who also want the apartment?

David: ~beams when Matteo says that it sound as if they’d have a chance and when Matteo starts describing the apartment~ ~slightly shakes his head when he says that they don’t need more than two rooms~ ~then laughs~ Yes, I’ll tell them. I feel like half the people are already aware of the fact that we’re looking for an apartment, anyways. Phoenix just asked me if there is any news… ~then hears Linn in the background and laughs again quietly~ Tell her thank you, that’s very nice of her! ~then nods~ Yes, we’ll talk soon… I’ll hurry up! ~then hangs up and goes back to the group~ ~because he’s beaming so broadly, immediately gets asked about what happened and tells them~

Linn: ~is relieved when her calculations result in a manageable amount and beams when she hears that David will be there later today~ ~really hopes that he’ll also like the apartment~ ~nods at Matteo’s question~ Quite certain. I had a phone call with my parents yesterday and this morning, Hans-Peter… I mean Mister Huber. He said he hasn’t gotten around to posting the apartment yet, and that he’d be grateful if I knew someone, because then he could save himself the trouble of looking for tenants and at least then he’d already know that he would get good tenants if I trust the people. I told him that you guys are very trustworthy. He wanted to mail the exact costs to me, but apparently he doesn’t have time to do it today. We’re supposed to tell him by the end of the week if you want the apartment - then he’d go ahead and get the lease agreement ready. ~has walked toward the hallway with Matteo and now smiles into the kitchen, where the tenant is sitting at the table eating his dinner~

Matteo: ~shakes his head in disbelief why Linn reports~ ~has the urge to hug her, but leaves it be because he knows that when it comes to Linn, physical contact has to be initiated by her~ Man, Linn, you really are awesome! ~then they arrive at the kitchen and he knocks against the doorframe~ We just wanted to say goodbye… my boyfriend will get on his way soon and if it’s okay, then we’ll come by again around 8:30? ~sees him nod immediately: “Yes sure, no problem at all, I’ll be here and my wife probably too… I hope it’ll work out, it’ll save us a lot of viewings.”~ ~grins and nods~ Yes, for us, too… see you later… ~leaves the apartment with Linn and goes back downstairs~ Man, Linn, that would be so awesome… then we could really come visit you guys in our pajamas. ~laughs and waits for Linn to unlock the door~

Linn: ~smiles when Matteo says that she’s awesome and shrugs~ ~then waits silently for Matteo to organize everything and then also says her goodbyes and leaves the apartment with him~ ~goes down the stairs and nods seriously at his words~ ~says slightly dreamily~ It would almost be like Hans said - like a very big flatshare. You’d just have to take a walk up the stairway. ~stops at their apartment door and looks at Matteo~ Hans would surely also be happy if you take the apartment. ~unlocks the door and stops in front of the door to her room~ ~checks the time and reaches for the door handle~ I have to watch my show now. You can tell me from 9:15 onward how David liked the apartment. And if you want it, and if it all works out money-wise, then I’ll immediately tell Hans-Peter tomorrow. ~then hears Laura calling from the kitchen: “There you are, Linn! I’ll be finished with the cake in a minute, and then I’ll come over! Hey, brother-in-law-to-be! Where have you guys been?”~ ~looks at Laura when she appears in the doorway to the kitchen and checks the time again~ ~hears Laura laughing: “Yes, I know, it’s starting… feel free to leave… Matteo can inform me!”~ ~briefly smiles at Laura and Matteo again and then disappears to her room~

Matteo: ~smiles when she’s so dreamy~ Yes, like a big flatshare… with a little more privacy… ~grins slightly~ I think we would all be happy… ~nods when she says that her show is about to start~ Yes, sure, we’ll tell you. And thanks again, Linn, that really saves us! ~grins when he hears Laura~ Hellooooo sister-in-law-to-be, you’re in a good mood. We… ~then sees Linn getting antsy and that Laura tells her to leave~ ~sees Linn disappear and then looks back to Laura~ ~the people in the apartment above us are moving out… Linn arranged for us to have a look at the apartment before it gets posted somewhere, and if we want it, then the landlord won’t even post it. ~beams broadly~ Awesome, right?

Laura: ~smiles after Linn and then looks at Matteo expectantly~ ~gapes at his words and starts to beam~ That would be awesome! How big? How much does it cost? When could you move in? ~laughs quietly, simply hugs him and then hits his arm lovingly~ Sick! And Linn hasn’t told me anything beforehand… pfff… unbelievable! ~looks around~ But David wasn’t with you, was he? He wanted to go to this meeting today… ~had talked about it with him to see if he’s home so that she has privacy for baking the cake~

Matteo: ~laughs when she’s so happy and when he also gets a hug~ Well… it’s smaller than this one, of course, two rooms, but that’s enough… it costs soandso much, so we’d manage… and yes, David is at Lambda, but I called him and he’ll come home a little earlier and we can go upstairs again at 8:30 so that he can also see it… ~grins broadly~ Man, Laura, that would just be awesome! ~inhales and then smells the cake~ And hey, if there’s a slice left over from the cake… ~grins slightly~ By the way, I don’t want to keep you from your show… feel free to leave, we’ll come by again later, anyways, to tell you guys about everything.

Laura: ~listens to him and smiles very broadly~ Hey, I would be sooo happy for you! I’ll keep my fingers crossed! ~laugs quietly~ And for me, of course! That I could move into your room on time! ~then hears that David will be home earlier and grimaces slightly~ Fuck… ~glances into the kitchen~ ~then hears his comment and lightly hits him in the chest~ It’s for David, you idiot! And if he comes home early and I won’t clean up real quick then there’s no more surprise… ~then nods absentmindedly and is already halfway back to the kitchen~ Yes, first the cake, then the kitchen, then the show! And really, do tell us about it! That really would be a nice birthday present for David if it worked out! ~lifts her hand in goodbye again and then leans down to the oven to check on the cake~

Matteo: ~laughs slightly~ Yes, that really would be perfect for everyone… ~looks confused when she swears~ ~then hears that the cake is for David~ ~gapes exaggeratedly~ It’s David’s birthday?!? Fuck! ~then laughs when she looks so shocked~ No, no, I know that… I somehow assumed you’re baking it for yourself and Linn, sorry… ~looks into the kitchen, where it’s really still pretty messy~ Hey, I can also try to catch David outside at 8:30 and we’ll go straight up? ~leans against the kitchen door to wait for her answer, but then also retreats back to his room~

Laura: ~has thanked Matteo but assured him that she’ll manage~ ~then hurried up and really only missed 10 minutes of the show when she enters Linn’s room and gets comfortable together with her~

(next play)

[weiszklee]

A few weeks ago I found an unopened carton of shelf-stable milk in the fridge, and I put it in the cupboard instead and explained in the flatshare groupchat that it doesn't need to be refridgerated and to please use up the fresh milk first instead, since I've gotten pretty good at keeping that stocked.

Today, our fresh milk ran out, so I went and grabbed the carton of shelf-stable milk and found that someone had opened it in the meantime and had then put it back in the cupboard.

I'm afraid to take this to the group chat because my words will not be kind.

[uj453]

winter is coming 

21/12/2018 

0 Comments 

winter is coming... 

On the last day of my Vienna in this stint, or rather this semester, I went with a dear friend to an apartment just opposite a park. The park had a small urban garden project happening too, and there were basil plants in it. It was not as cold as it had been but there was quite a wind blowing through, and that was really chilly. We were planning to pick out the Basil leaves, letting other people’s labour bear us fruit, or rather bear us some spice. 

We were exact on time for our appointment, and over the next few minutes the plot thickened, our plans were going to be quashed it seemed. It had been quite something - these past few months and the last year overall for me. Same for my friend, in very different ways. We aren’t the closest of friends, and I won’t say too much for the fear of jinxing it, but having met her a couple of weeks back, we did hit it off. And I don’t think either of us were clear about how we both were there and cooking up plans like that. What we knew for certain in this moment was that it was sinking. 

And sinking it had been. Transitions are difficult, and however much of a nomadic person I might or might not be, with age it does become more and more difficult. No wonder this blog is now named with the number to a place which was home. It’s been a bit since I left that place, and have been yearning for for home since. It’s not yet been. But it has been quite a ride. 

House hunting, I met a person, who was working on a drone project at UN. We discussed the fucked up politics of United Nations, and despite his own UN project which revolved around drones in a country in Africa (that I hadn’t even heard about, and don’t even remember now) being an interesting one, how in the larger scheme of things, even that was fucked up. 

There was a flat I applied for which had 150 applicants (the chances were more difficult than the PhD program I am enrolled for!!! :O ). In another appointment, I met a couple of smokers, who were doing multiple rounds of interview for their flatshare, and the second round of interview (which I was shortlisted for... yayyyy!!) was basically having a joint with them (and was then rejected... blah!! well, the joint was so good, so i guess that counts for something. 

At a few places, I was told directly that I couldn’t have the place because I wasn’t a european, in some other ways, more subtler hints of racism were used - at least they were taking the effort. I met a person who was into japanese thingies, and had a rice cooker which had options of settings for the kind of rice that one wants to cook - sticky, balmy, i don't even remember the rest of the options. But she served me a lovely tea.

One had gone through a miscarriage, and her mother was detected with cancer, and wasn’t sure about living with her current flatmate, also because maybe if things went well with her new boyfriend, they might have been moving in together.

I met another one who drew me a bath the first day of my moving in, because there was a family emergency and after keeping my stuff there, I was just flying to India. And, then later after I was back I had come back, we went to a small intimate concert, we went to the christmas market, so on... 

My cousin who lives in Lille (in France), asked me what it meant when I said Austria is richer, and how does it translate and so on. We were also talking about how white Austria is and the society could be quite insular, and with the language barrier, it becomes more. I was telling her that the public transport system is great, they don't even bother having ticket checking machines on entries to metro or the tram or the bus or whatever. They just don’t bother.

But did I tell her that the public transport system in Vienna is completely accessible? Did I tell her that the cars stopped for people waiting on the crossing? And generally how life on the street becomes softer. I wonder if we discussed what it meant not to having ticket checking machines like in Paris. Did it mean that not regulating people flow like that, not disciplining the crowd like that, had some implication in the larger scheme of things? I don’t know if we discussed all this. But I was discussing with someone how is it good to be poorer in a richer country. And Vienna has a lot of that. It’s of course not easy for the poorest of poor, but when you are doing work like I do, and earn like I do, all the public services you can get is welcome and great. 

Being in such a weather is also something. I used to feel colder than it was, because I was also constantly told, that this wasn’t cold enough now, and that it will get colder. In anticipation, I would shiver. And had started talking like yeah, it ain’t that cold - it’s 1.5 degrees. hahahhahaha... Cold Vienna can get-in weather and otherwise. But the beggar near my academy U Bahn station always smiled and greeted me. I had just once given him something, and that day was something else itself - otherwise I really don’t break the rule. 

Another evening, a frustrated lonely one I was on the U Bahn by myself, and this old person came sat right opposite me and just smiled and me. He very obviously didn’t know english, but we did share that smile. When I got off, incidentally he also did, and then he turned to me and in the broken english said - have a good day and left. Made my day :) 

Last evening I went to the Kebab shop close to the academy. I had only once been there before but today went I asked for a falafel box, the place had become a chinese place!!! That guy said he kept switching between the two cuisines. And I don’t know why but he gave me a free extra beer, and a fortune cookie. My fortune cookie read ‘tonight destiny has something special planned for you’. Having gutted down two beers, and a noodle with crispy duck and teriyaki sauce, when my friend called in I was like let’s go for a drink. 

We went to a place called cafe benno. She apparently had a history at that place. And it was interesting how in a twisted way that cafe had had intersections with her life. Sometimes in ways in which she hadn't even gone there. And sometimes not reaching there was what was the cause of things. It was also very interesting that these happenings and non happenings were seen by my friend as ‘new beginnings’.

This evening we did reach, and there we met a couple at the bar, who were very intrigued by this indian man, who had long hair, beard, and ate beef!!! The one drink turned out to be a long one, and we reached back only by four! And here we were the next day, at this flat getting our plans shattered. I had earlier in the day gone to the library, where the librarian didn’t take a minute to process my request for having books for two extra straight months because I was traveling for research, instead of the scheduled month long issuals. That day things were supposed to go well, and fine, and not the crisis that we were caught in this moment. 

The street where the park was, the urban garden was called max winter plaza. The door of the apartment had a notice saying ‘winter is coming’ - a signage basically for the door NOT to be left open. It really felt like the winter was now coming. But maybe winter is not such a bad thing after all. Look at this landscape I am flying over - all snowed in.

Now, I can’t wait to come back in March, and see the story unfold. 

The Winter is surely coming, and it is NOT a bad thing at all. 

Maybe the summer will come soon too. 

Here’s to winters, summers, and cafe bennos... :) 

[jackfrostsander]

Happy 21:21 and Happy New Year to Sobbe and the whole WTFAM! 🎆🎇🎉🥳🍾🎊🥂

[terpia]

Social interactions are such a mixed bag for me, because 90% of the time I enjoy myself as they're happening, but once they're over sometimes I'm like 'oh yeah, that was great :)' and other times I just want to curl up and die as soon as I leave.

[merlinmyrddin]

Do you ever feel so angry, disrespected and humiliated by someone that all you want to do is actually laugh? Cause I just want to laugh at him, out of pitiness.

I am tired someone please put to me to bed

[painfully-oblivious]

Robbe needs a long platonic cuddle from Milan, as far as I’m concerned as soon as Robbe got home tonight he ran into Milan, broke down and is currently sleeping soundly in a tight Milan hug.

Sorry guys I don’t make the rules it’s just facts

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

re: trusty hogs: the sam campbell ep is also rly good, and as for the nish kumar ones i'd recommend the second one more than the first, not that the first isn't good, just that the second is one of my favorite podcast episodes of anything ever. the recent hannah gadsby and rhys nicholson eps are also great. the desiree burch one isn't particularly funny, but she is so smart and says a lot of really insightful things i think

Cool, thanks, I'll check that out! Desiree Burch is always brilliant on podcasts; I think on pure measuring of intelligence - by whatever measure intelligence can be reasonably measured, which is probably a very problematic thing to try to measure, but however that works - she has to be one of the smartest comedians out there. She's very funny when she tries to be, but she's intelligent and insightful all the time.

Anyway, I digress, thanks for the recommendations! I'll keep those in mind. Incidentally, to other people, this is the time to recommend me things. I frequently get messages while I'm in the middle of listening to some other long-running thing, telling me I should check out something else, and I don't do it because I cannot listen to anything else until I've finished every little bit of my current long-running audio thing. 2024 has been mostly taken up with that stuff so far, first the Robins + James radio/misc. John Robins stuff, and then the collected works of Peacock & Gamble.

I finished those before I went to the UK, and am now deliberately not starting anything new for a little bit, as I catch up on the streams and other Edinburgh shows, things like that. But I still need stuff to listen to on my work commutes/breaks. Last week I listened to most of Paul F. Thompkins stand-up albums, that was fun. Next week I'll finish those and I've got that Delightful Sausage radio thing, and a few episodes of this podcast now. Any other short audio thing that people think I should check out, let me know now, before I end up too buried in some months-long project to pay attention to anything else.

Will not listen to people talk about: food, anything magic or supernatural (unless purely fictional, let me know if any good comedians have a podcast about fantasy novels), movies. It really shut down that Peacock & Gamble stuff at the end of the double act, I'm not following whether either of them went (not quite true as there's a good chance the next thing I get into is Ian Boldsworth's solo radio stuff, but I'll leave a bit of time first, also I still have to get to Pappy's Flatshare thing eventually).