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yournameoneverypage · 3 years

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Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years

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Imagine:

I”m gonna do two imagines at once because I figured these two can go hand in hand

The reader face-riding Erik and Erik holding the reader’s hips down and overstimulating her/ Erik telling the reader “lemme dig in that pussy one time”

This shit here... WHEW!

Nasty smut per usual.

“Happy birthday you fine ass Sagittarius.”

Y/N’s boyfriend, Ace, was gliding his tongue like the black mamba snake along her exposed neck. He had just taken her to a fancy dinner and now they were headed back their place to finish the night off just right. Ace looked over at his woman dressed in a satin mini dress colored sage. Her braided hair was twisted up into a bun and her skin shimmered from all the body glow she had put on.

“Thank you, Baby,” Y/N squeezed Ace’s hand, interlacing her tiny fingers with his long slender ones, “Now, are you gonna tell me who you’ve been texting all night talking about it’s a surprise?! I am fucking dying over here.”

“What I tell you? Save that begging shit for later.” Ace looked at Y/N with sly eyes, “Sexy ass.”

Y/N wanted to savor this moment as much as she could while her man was home from the military. He would be leaving again in about a couple of weeks. She pouts like a baby, folding her arms over her 36 C cup breasts. Tiny whimpers escaping her mouth, Ace adjusts himself in his seat, trying his best not to react to her seducing sounds. He’d missed every ounce of her. Every curve, every noise she made, the way she smelled, how soft her skin was. Being away and seeing all that death, Ace had to keep a positive image of Y/N in his brain.

They both pulled up to a gated community. This is where they both live. A big house built from the ground up. An accomplishment he happily came back to when he could. Pulling up in one of the spots of their three-car garage, Ace turns off the car, not yet getting out as his phone was in his hands again. Y/N had her Pink Whitney Amsterdam Vodka bottle resting in her lap ready to be opened. Ace was driving her crazy!!! She wanted some of that good dick. She just knew he would beat her pussy up like he’d been locked away in jail for 30+years. She needed a hurting on her good pussy.

“Wassup, E,” Ace acknowledged the man on the other line with a grin, “You here already? Where? I didn’t see you when I pulled up.

E? She looked behind her out of the rearview window, spotting a blacked-out G Wagon flashing its hazards to gain their attention. She turns back around in her seat, side-eyeing Ace. What was this nigga up to? He’d already bought her all the things she wanted, taken her out to eat, what else could he have in store for her? Y/N unbuckled her seat belt, turning towards Ace while he talked on the phone.

“Nah, I think she’ll remember you, bruh. Y/N got a good memory... yeah, shes giving me a look right now,” Ace laughs at Y/N’s annoyed expression, “Just come over to the house, let's make this reunion happen.”

Ace hung up his phone, pocketing it before taking his keys out of the ignition and getting out of the car. Y/N waited as he came around to her side, opening her door and grabbing the 24k gold and red roses he purchased from THE. MILLION. ROSES out of her hand with the bottle of Amsterdam Vodka. since Ace’s sports car was so low she had to duck while getting out. Y/N reaches out her soft manicured hand for Ace to grab, but it wasn’t Ace’s hand that took hold. She could feel a thicker, more solid hand grab hers, fingers covered in rings, very sturdy and overpowering her rather tiny one. Startled by the unfamiliar texture, Y/N placed her doe-eyes on a man standing at 6’3, braided-back dreads, black T-shirt on with a denim jacket, black ripped jeans and a pair of Vans on his feet. Gold around his neck, wrist, and fingers, even in his teeth when he smiled down at her.

Ace stood back, hands in his black and red plaid jacket pockets, watching the scene in front of him. Y/N was pulled from her seat, her hand reaching behind her to fix her mini dress since her ass was too much for it. Ace told her it was two sizes too small but she didn’t care. Now that she’s standing in front of E, she felt exposed.

“Wassup, birthday girl,” He spoke softly.

“E...Erik?” She finally recognized him. It’s been at least a few years since she saw him. He had a curly fro the last time they’d seen each other.

“It’s been a while I know,” his eyes trailed down her frame, “Still looking good I see.”

Y/N, perplexed that Erik so openly gave her a compliment in front of her man, looked over at Ace to see if he would correct his boy. To her surprise, Ace has this coy smile spread across his full lips.

“Can we go inside? It’s getting chilly out here,” Y/N tried to revert the topic of discussion. Ace hands Erik her roses and vodka while he leads the way to his front entrance.

“After you, ma” The gesture was simple but so...tantalizing. A shiver spread throughout her body at the thought of Erik checking out her ass as it swayed in her tight mini dress. The way her legs looked in her heels didn’t help situations either. Ace held the door opened for her, allowing her to walk past. Ace slaps her ass hard as hell, Y/N giving him a shy look before turning towards both men. Erik was smiling wide and dangerous at Ace before turning his hard, intoxicating eyes onto Y/N’s body. That entire moment made her ankles buckle a little and she hoped that she didn’t look crazy.

“Can I get comfortable before we have some drinks?” She rested her plush bottom on the grey velvet ottoman in their shared living room, taking off her heels. She flexed her toes, resting the shoes next to the love seat.

“Oh Nah, keep that dress on, girl.” Ace instructed her.

Y/N looked over at Erik who was helping himself to some Hennessy that Ace has at his living room mini bar. He had his denim jacket off at this point, all those muscles in his arms...his almond skin looked beautiful....

She froze.

Now she was beginning to think that Ace must have known how attracted to Erik she was. She had eyes, her man's friend is sexy as hell. It just overwhelmed her seeing him like this. More muscles, hair in those sexy dreads, gold in his mouth...

“Hey,” Ace’s lips were on her cheek, trailing down to her neck. Y/N took her hand, rubbing it against the shiny black waves in his hair. She placed her lips against the chocolate skin of his cheek before teasing him with her jeweled tongue.

“Mm,” Ace lifts her up, making her straddle him while he rested on the grey velvet love seat. Drink in his hand, he sipped while his other hand moved slowly over her arched back and ass. Y/N felt so nervous doing this in front of Erik. Erik was seated on the edge of the ottoman right next to them both, drinking out of his glass with those eyes on her face and only her face. She wrapped her arms around Ace while his soft lips attacked her protruding cleavage. Y/N held Erik’s gaze but it was a challenge with the way those whiskey-colored eyes surveyed her.

“Damn, shit don’t make no sense how much I missed you. Tell her Erik, my ass was going crazy.”

Erik smiles, “you had this nigga fantasizing about you. Every fucking day. And every fucking night. Couldn’t get this nigga to shut up.”

“Awww, babe,” Y/N grabs Ace’s chin, “Daddy, I missed you too.”

Erik made a sound at that, causing Ace to laugh and Y/N to blush profusely. What Erik didn’t tell her was how Ace shared all of their wild sex stories with him. Ace would tell Erik how bomb Y/N’s pussy is. Straight wet wet and nice and tight like she did kegel exercises. He even disclosed that she had a major head game too, jaws strong as a bitch.

She can suck a golf ball through a water hose that’s how he described it.

“Damn, bro. She got it like that? Just the thought of it is making my dick hard,” Erik said, laughing.

Another thing Y/N didn’t know but Erik and Ace did, was that she would be fulfilling her man's deepest, darkest fantasy. Give the birthday girl a real treat. From talks about how his girl put it down to Erik spotting Ace from time to time admiring nude photos of Y/N, he was thinking about fucking his friend's girl. He never told Ace, but now he didn’t need to. Ace hit him up about a week ago before Erik came home from a JSOC mission that he wanted Erik to fuck his girl in front of him.

“Say, bro, would you like to hit Y/N?” Ace had asked.

Erik was in disbelief on FaceTime with Ace. He couldn’t believe that he asked him that so openly, even though his brain was saying hell yeah I want that puss.

“Are you for real? Man, you are crazy, nigga.”

Ace’s look said it all.

“You are for real, Huh? Okay,” he said, letting Ace know he was game.

And Erik was down for whatever. Clearly, Y/N was too with the way she looked at him with those come fuck me, Daddy eyes. He’d fuck her real good too. That nigga Ace was in for a show. This fine bitch Y/N was about to give that pussy up.

“Are you having a good time, baby?” Ace asked Y/N, looking from her to Erik.

“Yes, this is really nice. I feel like a princess,” she stated, satisfied with the outcome of the night.

“It’s cuz you are a princess.” Ace said, praising her.

“You want some of your vodka, Y/N?” Erik asks. Y/N nods her head at him, watching Erik get up to retrieve her bottle and make her a nice cup of it. Ace whispers happy birthday in her ear, bringing his lips to hers and sucking on her bottom lip. She could taste the Hennessy on his warm wet tongue and feel the icy grill on his lower teeth. Right then and there she wanted his tongue dancing around her pussy.

“Daddy,” she moans.

“Yeah, girl?”

“I need you to fuck me now. I want your dick inside of me. Fuck me please.”

Y/N tried to be discreet and whisper that but Erik heard it all loud and clear while making her drink. He walked back over to the horny couple, standing behind Ace and handing Y/N her glass over the back of the couch.

“Thank you, E,” she takes a nice sip, eyelids fluttering from Ace’s slick tongue on her neck and his hand rubbing her juicy, hard clit through her satin thong. Y/N ground her pussy roughly against his hand, nonverbally urging him to plunge his fingers deep inside of her little pussy.

“Mmm,” Y/N moaned while stroking the back of Ace’s head. Ever so gently, while Erik stood there behind the love seat, lustfully gazing at Y/N and loving the sounds she made, Ace caressed her face and brought her lips to his once more, and gave her a nice sloppy kiss.

“I told my boy you have some good pussy, baby girl,” Ace whispered, informing Y/N that Erik knew of some of their sexcursions.

“Oh, really? And why would you do that, Daddy?”

That seductive look in her eyes said it all. Ace placed Y/N on the couch, adjusting his dick in his dark-wash denim jeans. He sat his empty glass on the black and silver coffee table. Y/N’s pussy was extremely wet and warm. The moisture probably made itself visible through her panties. Erik came over to seat himself next to Y/N while Ace was on her other side. Both men refilled their glasses, Ace reaching between Y/N’s legs to see exactly how wet his woman was.

“Damn,” Erik says, licking the liquor from his bottom lip, “that shit wet wet just like you said, Ace.”

Y/N lets out an airy sigh, face hot from the way Erik leaned forward with his elbows to see it all. He was seeing everything. The way Ace rubbed her wet satin thong, how the exposed skin of her pussy lips shined like she’d been oiled down.

“I told E how good your pussy tastes,” Ace whispered. “He wants to eat it for you.”

“E?” She asks timidly. Oh, it was written all over her face. That sexy helpless look on her face. E wants to eat my tight little pussy, Daddy, that’s what she looked like she wanted to say. Drink almost slipping from her hand, Erik takes it, placing it on the coffee table next to his. He swallows spit before biting his lip, preparing his taste buds for her pussy. Erik and Ace shared a look, both mischievous men smirking.

“Hey, bro,” Ace finally pulled Y/N’s soaking wet thong to the side. Erik let out a hiss, the sound causing Y/N’s toes to curl, “You wanna taste this pussy? I told you it was good. Come and get this pussy.” Inviting Erik to join in.

Without saying another word, Erik was bending over Y/N’s lap in a single bound and attacked her pussy like a flesh-eating piranha. Y/N was semi-naked and it wasn’t enough for Erik at all. He wanted to see her fully naked while he stared up from between her legs. Ace sat back on the ottoman, one hand palming his erection while the other held his glass of Henny. His voyeurism kink was finally going to come to life in front of him. Y/N looked overwhelmed by the way Erik licked her. She was squirming and shaking, looking from Ace to Erik with a bewildering look in her eyes. The soft-sounding moans that escaped her mouth seemed to grab hold of Erik’s dick because now he wanted to yank his jeans off and plunge into her tasty pussy. Erik sopped her pussy like it was a full course meal. This nigga was really eating it up and Ace couldn’t help the grunts that escaped his mouth.

“Take this shit off,” Erik demanded Y/N. Y/N timidly lifted her dress over her belly and up past her tits.

“Don’t be shy, listen to Kill,” Ace had his hands down his pants now.

“Kill?” She asked with a perplexed expression. Y/N felt Erik’s lips on her neck, his hands helping her the rest of the way with that dress. She was finally fully naked, her big juicy nipples all poked out and ready to be sucked up.

“Kill wants some of that pussy.” Ace reminded Y/N. She could feel Kill against her inner thigh. He was much thicker than Ace but they were around the same length. She wasn’t used to being stuffed and bottomed-out at the same time.

“Yo, this couch ain't doing it for me. Can we take this shit to the bed?” Erik asked while running his fingers between her pussy lips. He sounded so desperate and it made her bite her lip. She couldn’t believe she was going through with this. This was a surprise alright.

“Take it wherever you want, bro, as long as I get to watch the way you fuck her.”

That was enough for Erik. He picks Y/N up, throwing her over his shoulder. The action was rough and the way he slapped her ass didn’t help make it any less rough. Ace was following behind Erik, telling him where the master bedroom was on the second level. Finally there, Erik takes a naked Y/N and laid her softly on her back on the large bed. Ace made himself comfortable in a chair facing the head of the bed, the sound of his belt and zipper loud in Y/N’s ears. Erik was taking off his clothes.

“Happy birthday, you know you special,” Erik told her with a low seductive voice. Shirt off, she took in his defined body littered with scars. Now, he was working on his jeans, pulling those down nice and slow so she could watch his dick bob out at her. Once the long, and fat pole was free from its confines, Y/N gasped, mouth hanging open and ready for a dick in it. His dick in it.

Ace gave his right hand a workout by stroking his dick. He planned on cumming all over himself tonight. Erik returned to the bed, Ace witnessing the helpless look on his girl's face as Erik pulled her legs apart roughly, his face disappearing between her legs. It was as if she had no control over her reaction to the way Erik ate her pussy. That pretty face of hers contorted with pleasure.

“FUCK. Ace forgot to mention how sweet this pussy is,” Erik was eating that little pussy better than Ace. It didn’t make him feel jealous, it made his dick harder and heavier in his hand. All he wanted his woman to do was cum on his homeboy's face. Erik breathes hard on her clit and then started kissing all around her glazed pussy. He was licking and kissing everything but her clit.

He brought his face up to Y/N’s, kissing her lips, “what you want me to do, princess?”

Without stuttering, she said, “I want you to suck my clit, Erik!!!”

Finally, Erik began sucking it. He would move away and then come back to it. Move away and then come back to it, and that shit felt so damn good! He started licking it with long strokes, and she could feel his tongue working it’s way around the lips of her pussy and then dart in and out of it with expert precision. Erik worked his way back to her “trigger” and ran his tongue down each side of her clit and tickled it underneath. Erik didn’t miss a spot and Y/N enjoyed every bit of it. Erik swirled his tongue around the hood of her clit and Y/N started rocking her hips back and forth as he started pushing down harder with his mouth. He didn’t come up for air once, and the pressure and rhythm of his tongue on her clit was almost poetic!

Y/N never knew there were so many ways to suck a pussy before this moment on her birthday. Just when she thought it was over, Erik enclosed his whole mouth around her clit and started sucking it lightly, as he blew on it with his warm breath. He kept glancing up at her pretty face; she could tell he was getting off by the way she was moaning and driving that pussy into his face. He placed deep French kisses on her clit and sucking on it until Y/N was ready to cum. The stimulation was toe-curling, and as she thought she would fly off the bed but Ace was by her side now, keeping her legs open with his dick all out and slick with pre-cum next to her mouth. Erik was in the zone, he wasn’t about to turn the pussy loose for Ace to get a taste.

“Damn, homie, you sucking it like it’s your pussy...stay still baby, let him have it. This nigga Kill is hungry I see.”

Right when Ace said that, Y/N shouted at the top of her lungs in between chocked up moans, “This is your pussy!! This is your pussy!!” Erupting all over Erik’s face. As she rested her head back against the pillows, Erik finally let Ace join in as they both leaned forward and started slurping and feasting on what Y/N could rightly say was both of their pussy.

“Daddy,” she looked into Ace’s eyes then over into Erik’s, “Daddy.” She called both of them niggas Daddy.

“Damn, E, got your whole mouth on her clit.” Ace watched Erik back at it again with the sucking and slurping.

“Look at the way you making her pussy cream, bro,” Ace scoops up some of that cream, placing his finger in his mouth, “Fuck, this slutty little pussy is leaking.”

Ace goes back to his seat, rubbing Y/N’s juices on his dick. Erik lifted up her body, making her sit on his face. She could feel him running his tongue up and down her swollen pussy. He had his big biceps holding her in place while he overstimulated her clit with a back and forth motion of his sharp tongue and a little pulling and nibbling action of his plush lips. She was grinding all sexy on his mouth, her eyes watching Ace standing directly in front of her now, jerking his long dick. His slit was open and a long string of pre-cum spilled out and to the bed. Y/N had nowhere to run while Erik worked her sensitive clit into yet another orgasm.

“Daddy, Erik,” she cried, her arms shaking while her cum spilled and spilled into Erik’s mouth. He licked her clean, giving her pussy gentle kisses before pulling her off of him.

“You ready for me, Y/N?” He looked at her, his face shiny with her juices, “you ready for me to fuck that little pussy while your man buss a nut to it?”

Y/N got into doggie style position. She opened her pussy lips wide and said, “Here, Daddy, fuck this juicy pussy.”

“Shit,” Erik moaned.

“Keep that slutty little pussy open just like that baby girl,” Ace encourages. Erik takes a condom from his jeans pocket, opening it and rolling it over his dick. Secured, getting behind Y/N, he placed her body at an angle so that Ace could see how Erik was going to fuck her. Her shoulders and face were pressed into the bed, everything else up and to the ceiling. Erik reaches up under Y/N, rubbing her swollen clit.

“Lemme dig in this pussy one time,” Erik whispered. If only he could take Ace’s words literally. With the pussy Y/N had, once wouldn’t be enough. Erik thought he only needed one round of sex with this bad bitch to satisfy his fantasy...

“Fuck me, Daddy,” She cries, backing her twat into his meat.

“Yes! Call me Daddy,” Erik said, taking his enormously impressive dick, attempting to push it inside of Y/N’s pussy.

“Ace, yo,” Erik stops for a moment, looking over at his friend, “Yo, she hella tight, bruh,” He laughs.

“Told you, Bro.”

“Erik beat Y/N’s clit with his dick before trying to get in her shit again. The condom was a bitch tryna get all up inside of her.

“Take the condom off, fuck her raw,” Ace said with finality, “She feels sooooo much better that way anyway.” Ace didn’t understand the mistake in his words. Y/N had some good pussy...

“Please,” she begged.

Erik let out a satisfying moan at the way she begged for it raw. Shit, he liked this little one. Erik takes off the condom, rubbing her wetness over his dick some more before trying again. The minute he pushed himself inside successfully, was the moment he knew he was never going back. She literally swallowed him. Sucked him in like a vacuum. Ace’s words weren’t enough to explain how good this pussy was.

“Damn, baby girl, you giving up that juicy pussy to the homie?” Ace came to stand in front of her, bringing his dick to her mouth.

“That’s right, suck my big dick, baby, suck me good.”

“Damn right, I’m gonna suck it,” Y/N said with her mouth full of dick. Ace gripped her braids in his hand, popping her mouth off.

“Here,” he said, stuffing her mouth again with dick.

Erik was taking long, deliberate strokes. He feared if he picked up the pace, he would cum quick and he didn’t want that right now. She was so damn tight and warm around him.

“I love this sloppy pussy!” Erik has his lip between his teeth, fucking Y/N with no hands.

“Damn...Ace...look at her throwing it back on me, look at all this ass on my dick, bro.” Erik moaned.

Y/N found an easy rhythm to suck Ace while Erik tortures her pussy.

“She wetting you’re shit up man, I see them jaws you were talking about, mmm,” Erik had the best view, her little pussy wrapped around him and her mouth on Ace’s dick.

“Come get you some,” Ace slips out of Y/N’s mouth, stepping back to sit down and jerk his wet dick. Her spit gave him the best lubricant while he stroked. Even though he just wanted to sit back and watch Erik fuck his girl, it was damn hard. He’d always wanted to know what she looked like getting fucked. Ace decided to sit back and enjoy the rest of the moment for now so Erik could have all the fun he wanted. Erik was in front of Y/N now, his soaking wet dick mixed with her cream all over him and his pubic hair.

“Keep your mouth wide open. You ready for all of this?” Erik swinging his wet dick in front of her face had her slobbering.

“Yes, Daddy.” She gave him that innocent look with those big eyes.

“Gimme Some,” Erik whispers, grabbing her hair with one hand, and her chin with the other while his dick pressed between her lips and into her mouth.

“Suck that dick,” Erik grunted, thrusting his hips forward, causing Y/N’s head to push back. Erik started pulling his dick all the way out and thrusting all the way back in.

“She working your shit, E? Using them tight jaws on her?” Ace said, stroking his dick. Ace watched his girl swallow Erik’s dick, making his friend's eyes flutter shut.

“Goddamn, Bitch! Take it...yeah...take it deep.” Erik reached behind Y/N, slapping her ass hard. Her ass thrust up into the air, basically letting him know that she wanted that. Erik slapped her ass again, Y/N moaning around his dick. She popped her mouth off, a string of spit falling to her tits.

“Spank me again, Daddy.” She asked in a child-like voice.

“You like it when I pop that big ass?” Erik said, both of his hands came down in unison on her cheeks, “Yeah, you like that,” he thrusts his dick back into her mouth, making her gag.

“If you stay in her mouth too long she’ll have your ass cumming,” Ace joked. He was ready to buss a nut himself but he wanted to witness Erik back inside of Y/N’s slit.

“Same thing for that pussy,” Erik joked back. He slipped out of Y/N’s mouth, laying her on her back and putting her legs over his shoulders. Erik rested his arms behind her thighs to elevate her even more, her ass hanging over the edge of the bed, Erik’s toned hips angled perfectly over her body. His dick slipped inside with ease this time, even though she gripped him so tightly. He pistoned in and out to the tip of his dick down to his balls. Her body was bouncing against the damn bed. Erik was on his hands, looking down at her. She had her hands up, grabbing his wrists, her toes curled. Erik has to look down at the way his dick was murdering her pussy.

“Damn, Daddy, it’s so thick.”

Erik’s eyes rolled shut. He brought his mouth down to suck on her pretty chocolate nipples.

“It’s too big for my pussy,” She announced, “I thought my pussy could handle it.”

Ace felt his balls swell up, his hand shaking around his erection. Ropes of cum shot out and on his jeans, a look of disbelief on his face. He couldn’t believe how much cum spilled from him. That cum was begging to be freed.

“Daddy, let-let me lick it up,” Y/N wanted to taste him again. Ace groans, getting up to allow Y/N to taste the rest of himself off his dick. She took him deep into her mouth, sucking him dry while Erik held her thighs back with his hands.

“How’s That mouth?” Erik asked while deep in her pussy.

“Fucking amazing,” Ace said while holding Y/N’s head with both hands, “how’s that tight little pussy?”

“Goddam, she’s tight as fuck,” Erik panted.

Erik picked up the pace, Y/N’s mouth popping off Ace’s dick to let out a sharp moan. He was bold in her pussy. He really wanted this.

“Erik, homie, you going crazy with it. Beating that pussy up.” Ace was jerking his dick again, smacking Y/N’s face with it.

“Bruh,” Erik slips out of her good puss, “I was about to buss in your bitch.”

Ace’s dick jumped at that.

“Flip your pretty ass over,” Erik demanded. Y/N lifts up, flipping her ass over. Erik pressed her down yet again, making sure her ass was up in the air.

“Get that shit,” Ace was ready to watch Erik fuck her ass up from the back. Erik spread her cheeks open, his dick so deep she felt it in her abdomen. He was so deep if you looked at her belly you’d probably see his dick digging in her guts.

“You’re fucking me so good, Erik,” she panted.

“Giving this pussy up, huh?” The loud clapping sounds from her ass on him made Ace grunt.

“Pound that fat puss, E, give this bitch what she wants!” Ace yells.

“Look at this pussy, you can see it gripping my shit,” Erik said. Ace came behind, a load groan escaping his mouth. She was so wet. She dripped to the bed, pussy fitting tight around Erik. Her pussy was loving him.

“There’s enough for you, Daddy!! Take me please!!!” She whined so sexily beneath him. All soft and delicate like a little. Erik was about to cum, his fingers sinking into her flesh. She was looking back at him with those pretty ass eyes. Erik was caught up in them, giving her more of him like he wasn’t already filling her up.

“Oh, fuck,” she let her mouth hang open, her hands coming back to grab her own ass.

“I’ma cum on your dick, Daddy. Your making my pussy cum so good!!!”

She squeezed his ass. Erik almost fell from behind her with how she had him.

“Gimme you’re arms! Now!” Erik barked out. She reached behind her, her eyes falling on Ace’s dick, then to Erik’s intense sweaty face. She felt him beat her down. Her stomach tightened again, cumming on him yet again.

“Fuck!!!!” Ace yells, cumming on the bed. He was so overwhelmed by how good Erik fucked her.

“Damn! This good pussy...ima cum all over this fat butt!!!”

Erik pulled out, cumming on Y/N’s back and ass. She reached behind her, taking his cum on her fingers and bringing it to her mouth. She sucked it all off before lifting up to suck the rest off of his dick. She grabbed hold of Ace’s dick, jerking his while sucking Erik’s. The sounds coming from them both had her ready to take both dicks at the same time.

“Ace, are you gonna get in my pussy?”

She pouted while Erik massages her nipples.

“You know ima get in that pussy, baby.” He reassured her.

“You were such a good fucking girl for me,” Erik praises her. He leans down, kissing her lips softly. Y/N felt her heart stutter in her chest. It felt so good kissing him. Her eyes connected with Erik’s, looking at him with a desperate need for his lips again.

“Mm,” Erik slipped away, laying flat on his back with his fist around his dick. Y/N was sucking Ace off now, Erik focused on the way she took her time to suck it. It was like art. His eyebrows knitted together, jaw growing tight. Damn, he was hooked and it was just one fuck.

Lemme dig in that pussy one time.

He lied. There was no way he could leave here with just one taste.

“You staying the night, E?” She asked softly with Ace’s dick in her hand, face all covered in spit. She was fucking killing him.

Erik looked up at Ace, his friend shrugging his shoulders.

“You wanna stay the night?” Ace asked.

“If that’s cool with you, yeah,” Erik slowly stroked his dick. Y/N had an expectant look in her eyes.

“Please? Stay,” she grabbed Erik’s dick, causing him to close his eyes and cover her hand with his, stroking his dick with her.

“Okay.” He allowed her to stroke him fully. His dick was like steel.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @bugngiz

#killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

Drabble: Cheap Thrills (baon)

Summary: Stretch can get a lot of entertainment out of a thrift store find.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch loved to pick up old books at the thrift shop. There were so many gems that might get lost at a traditional bookstore, like his trusty copy of ‘How to Teach Spanish to Dogs.’

Romance novels were cheap and plentiful, and he got them by bagful for Blue, who never much seemed interested in finding his own romance but loved reading about others. Old reference books filled with outdated information that was still interesting to read about, seeing what people used to believe, until science or society proved them wrong.

Then there were specialty finds.

Stretch wasn’t even two steps through the front door before he held up his prize, announcing happily, “look what i found!”

Edge barely looked up from his laptop, “If it has even one clown on it—"

“No clowns.” That was a prize he’d be sure to stash behind the shower curtain for maximum effect.

For once Stretch didn’t mind Edge working a little overtime at home. Kept him off his feet, gave all those healing juices a chance to settle in.

But a little distraction never hurt. Stretch flopped on the sofa and settled his head right into Edge’s lap, ignoring his exasperated sigh as he held out the book he’d found.

The cover was old and stained, but the title was still readable, ‘The Congregational Cook Book’ and in small letters beneath that, ‘edited by the ladies’ aid society of the First Congregational Church of Ebott, 1915.’

He knew his baby well. As soon as Edge stopped glaring an actually looked at the book, a flicker of interest made an appearance. He set his laptop on the coffee table, ignoring Stretch’s exaggerated sputters of suffocation as his forward lean threatened to smother him with Edge’s shirt, then took the book.

“A cookbook?”

“a really old cookbook!” Stretch enthused, “like, a century old. i thought maybe you’d like to try one it out. See how it compares to the youtube generation of cooking.”

“That does sound interesting,” Edge flipped through the book, reading aloud, “Salmon omelet, no, thank you, green tomato pickles, hot water gingerbread, hm, apple tarts. I do have apples, how does that sound?”

“baby, anything you make sounds like mana from heaven.” And at Edge’s raised brow bone, Stretch admitted, “except risotto, okay, but that’s less you than a general dislike of the genre.”

Edge nudged Stretch off his lap and stood, heading into the kitchen with book in hand. Normally, Stretch would’ve tossed him a fair thee well and let him get to it, but this time, he followed Edge through the swinging door. He was sort of curious if there were any differences in a recipe from a hundred years ago to now, and hey, science, right?

Not that he planned on helping with the cooking process, he was here strictly as an observer, and he plopped down into one of the chairs that surrounded their ‘dining room table’, “so, how much longer are we eating at the card table?”

“Not long,” Edge retrieved a large bowl from under the counter and a set of measuring cups from the cupboard before tying on an apron. “I’m working on a plan for our new kitchen layout. As soon as it’s done, I’ll have the builders get started on it.”

“uh huh, no rush, i was only curious,” Stretch propped his chin on one hand. “you do have a lot on your plate right now, babe. and there’s your whole mental health assessment you still need done.”

Really, it was sort of impressive how much Stretch could glean from slightest change in his husband’s expression. A normal person would think there was no change, but Stretch was good with languages, spent years learning Edge-ese. He knew a twist of distaste when it saw it, “Yes. There is that.”

Any other comment about it was effectively blocked by Edge’s renewed focus on the cookbook, reading the recipe aloud beneath his breath. His brow bone slowly furrowed, concentration replaced with dismay. Which…it was a cookbook, not a grimoire of early twentieth century curses. Wasn’t it?

“babe?” Stretch asked cautiously, “what is it?”

“What kind of recipe is this!” Edge exclaimed. He picked up the book and read aloud, “Eggs, oil, fresh butter or lard, sugar, baking powder, as much flour as it needs. Must be soft as an earlobe, thicker than cake.”

“uh…” Stretch scratched at the back of his skull. “and?”

“That's it. That's the entire recipe. There’s no measurements, no directions, no temperature for baking!” He slapped the book back down on the counter-top. “There are no apples listed! How can this be a recipe for apple tarts without apples? How in the name of the unknown am I supposed to gauge the softness of an earlobe when I don’t have ears?”

All great questions, except Stretch was in possession of exactly zero answers. “does seem a little speciest against those of us without earlobes.”

Edge glared at the cookbook as if by his will alone answers to his questions would come, which was why Stretch was a little surprised when Edge said abruptly, "Let me see your phone."

"yeah, sure," Stretch said, slowly handing it over. Not like he had any secrets or anything and while Edge might change his own passwords at least once a month for security reasons, he’d been using the first 6 digits of Pi since he got the phone. “why?”

“Because I left mine in the living room.” Edge tapped the screen impatiently holding it out as it began dialing out over speakerphone.

A sleepy voice answered, "'lo? Wassup, Boney Marony. "

"Jeff,” Edge said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to engage in wordplay with my husband later. Right now, I need you to come over so I can feel your ears."

A long moment of silence. "That’s very specific. Okay, I'll bite, give me five."

It was more like ten minutes, with Edge sitting impatiently across from Stretch, who was engaged in a furious game of Words With Friends on his newly retrieved phone. Until the light knock came on the front door followed by Jeff shambling into the kitchen. He looked like they’d woken him from a nap, his hair was smashed flat on one side and sticking up on the other. He scratched at his t-shirt covered belly and yawned out, "You know, before I met you guys, I never got calls like this."

“sounds to me like you needed a little more excitement in your life,” Stretch said cheerily.

Edge didn’t bother with a greeting. He limped determinedly over, stripping off his gloves as he went, and without warning began to vigorously fondle Jeff’s earlobes. Jeff squeaked out a mousy sound, his eyes wide as golf balls as he stared up at Edge.

Well. Wasn’t like Andy didn’t know why he was here.

“easy, babe,” Stretch winced, “he might need a little foreplay before you go right for the lobes.”

“I’m checking his ears, not his testicles,” Edge said curtly, even as he leaned down to peer closely at the ears in question.

That remark made Stretch and Jeff speak in unison,

“holy shit, wow, just tossing that out there, huh.”

“Okay, I’m good to help a friend out, but I am drawing the line at ball grabbing.”

Edge ignored them both. He let Jeff go and limped back to his gathered ingredients, already starting to measure them into the bowl, “Thank you, Jeff, that will be all.”

Welp, that sounded like a dismissal. Stretch climbed to his feet, jerking his head towards the door. “c’mon, andy, we can take in a flick while you’re here, if you want.”

Jeff was still a little wobbly, gingerly reaching up to touch one of his well-inspected ears as he followed Stretch out, “Do I want to know what that was all about?”

Stretch shrugged, “cooking.”

“Cooking,” Jeff repeated. He mouthed it again, soundlessly, then shook his head. “I don’t even think I want to know, plausible deniability is probably better. So, he asked for me to help, why?”

“well, how many other humans does edge know that he can call up and ask?” Stretch asked reasonably. He picked up the remote and turned on Netflix. “and don’t say your honey because we both know he’d just hang up, especially without having the proper forms filled out first.”

“Glad to be the go-to guy for illicit cooking-related bodily inspections.” Jeff joined Stretch on the sofa, settling in. “Classic Twilight Zone, huh? Good choice.”

The first episode was mostly over by the time Edge came out with a tray with a half-dozen golden-brown treats that brimmed with appley goodness. Stretch and Jeff dug in, mumbling thank you’s around their mouthfuls and Stretch was already on his second one when he noticed Edge was scribbling notes. He chewed and swallowed his current bite and asked, “what are you doing?”

“Gauging your reactions,” Edge said, still writing, “I kept a close track of the ingredient measurements that I used so that I can make changes for the second batch. Are they too dry? Is the pastry tough?”

“Tastes fine to me,” Jeff said around his mouthful.

“Crisp? Chewy? Is there enough spice?” Edge persisted. The two of them did their best to answer him around bites and finally, Edge made a satisfied sound and disappeared back into the kitchen.

“Huh,” Jeff snagged another tart. “How many batches you think he’s gonna make?”

Stretch shrugged, “i do my experiments and he does his.”

“His taste better.”

“my science isn’t the kind you lick.”

“So far it hasn’t involved you groping my ears, either,” Jeff took a bite and groaned around it, “Worth it, man, but the balls are still off-limits.”

“sounds reasonable.” Stretch snagged the last tart and sank back to watch the pig-faced doctor demanding a needle to sedate his patient, happily waiting to review batch number two.

Hey, he got a snack and a show, all for the price of a thrift store book. Now all he needed to do was sneak that clown statue into the bathroom, but eh, he might wait a while on that. This was enough entertainment for one day.

-finis-

Notes:

So, the recipe in question has been slightly modified from one in a reddit post and the poster had a couple of similar questions as Edge, although their solution wasn't the same. 😂 I couldn't resist writing how Edge would react to finding such a recipe.

The ‘The Congregational Cook Book, edited by the ladies’ aid society of the First Congregational Church, 1915.’ is real enough and I own it. Some of recipes and their measurements are very interesting in comparison to what we see now!

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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27emailsicantsend · 5 years

Note

Muffy first date headcannon?

Muffy First Date Head Canon

Marty texts Buffy several times leading up to it to make sure it’s an actual date and not virtual

On the day of the date, Marty does less work dressing up, but takes approximately two times the amount Buffy does to get ready because he’s too busy making sure his hair is perfectly in place

Buffy tries not to be annoyed that Marty is five minutes late, but when she opens up the door and sees him the annoyance disappears immediately and she just smiles

The date is mini golf- since competition is their strong suit, they agreed it worked perfectly

Marty chose a blue putter and Buffy chose red

Marty overshoots three balls into the water but Buffy waits patiently for him to get them

When one of the balls fell in, a kid half Marty’s age pushed him out of the way and retrieved it for him. When Marty asked to get the ball back, the kid waved it in Marty’s face, stuck his tongue out and ran off. Marty shouted, “hey!” back at him like an old man while Buffy giggled

Buffy actually has about five years of competitive golf in her she didn’t tell Marty about. She makes him believe he is doing good and then halfway through turns her game up out of nowhere and defeats Marty

The whole night is filled with bants and competition

Once, Marty left to go to the bathroom, when he came back he hugged Buffy from behind. She never told him, but that was her favorite part of the night

After mini golf, the kids went to pay but Buffy didn’t want the night to be over, so she laid her head on Marty’s shoulder and begged him to take her for ice cream

Marty couldn’t have said yes fast enough

They go to a local ice cream parlor, get cones, and go for a walk (Marty and Buffy split the cost 80-20, but that’s only because Marty insisted he wouldn’t let Buffy pay half. He is a very old-fashioned kind of boy when it comes to date manners)

During their walk, they mimic the scene were Bowie puts ice cream on Bex’s nose and they chase each other around putting ice cream all over each other

They kissed again, covered in ice cream, and couldn’t stop giggling the whole time

Marty bought a jacket just for Buffy so she wouldn’t get cold while he walked her home (he insisted and so she let him)

During the walk home she draped the jacket around her shoulders while they held hands

Buffy kissed Marty on the cheek good night

Before Buffy fell asleep she got a text from Marty that just said, “You will never stop being the best thing that has ever happened to me :)”

Buffy replied “good”

“Because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me :)”

Both went to bed smiling and woke up just as happy

Requested by: @muffy-thatsit-thatsall

#muffy #andi mack #marty from the party #buffy driscoll #am

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krisrowland · 5 years

Video

youtube

Greener Grass (Surreal comedy) In a day-glo-colored, bizarro version of suburbia where adults wear braces on their already-straight teeth, everyone drives golf carts, and children magically turn into golden retrievers, soccer moms and best friends Jill (Jocelyn DeBoer) and Lisa (Dawn Luebbe) are locked in a passive aggressive battle-of-the-wills that takes a turn into the sinister when Lisa begins systematically taking over every aspect of Jill’s life—starting with her newborn daughter. Meanwhile, a psycho yoga teacher killer is on the loose, Jill’s husband (Beck Bennett) has developed a curious taste for pool water, and Lisa is pregnant with a soccer ball. That’s just the tip of the gloriously weird iceberg that is the feature debut from writers-directors Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe, a hilariously demented, Stepford Wives-on-acid satire destined to be an instant cult classic.

#greener grass #film #american #surreal #comedy #jocelyn deboer #dawn luebbe #stepford wives

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editorchoice04-blog · 4 years

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Unusual Jobs You’ve Probably Never Heard Of – Part 1

Considering that we are living in the information age, technology is being developed at a faster rate than ever before. As a result, there are a number of highly demanded jobs sprouting up that were previously unheard of. This has also resulted in the creation of several new paths of study for school pupils and college students.

Even though many of these newly developed jobs are becoming well-known in the world of business, there are a number of bizarre jobs out there that you probably never thought existed. While some of these jobs involve simple tasks and can be performed on a part-time basis, others can actually be molded into a full-time career. Let’s take a look at some of the strangest yet unbelievably viable jobs out there.

White Hat Hacker

When you think of a computer hacker, chances are that you are imagining someone who uses their hacking skills to do malicious activities, such as damaging other people’s hardware and networks. White hat hackers, on the other hand, use their hacking skills for good, by finding vulnerabilities in an organization’s IT network and pointing out ways to improve it.

Most of a white hat hacker’s work revolves around penetration testing, which means that they will do their utmost to hack into an organization’s IT system or network and find weak point’s in the organization’s IT security. White hat hackers will then report their findings to the organization and give the IT security team the opportunity to make improvements. These hackers are formally hired by the organization and can earn a jaw dropping salary of $100,000 per year!

Repo Man/Woman

Sometimes, when an owner of an asset lends out their property to another person, the borrower may not make their payments as agreed. When this happens, the owner may want to reclaim their asset. This may prompt the owner to use the services of someone who specializes in recovering property, namely a repo man/woman.

This highly dangerous job involves the repo man/woman recovering the item and returning it to the owner, or perhaps even reselling it. Because this task could be perceived as stealing, repossession can be a highly dangerous job. Of course, this depends on the asset in question. While some jobs are smaller, others can involve the repossession of cars, boats, or even planes.

Professional Cuddlers

No matter who you are, you are bound to go through stages when you long for affection from other people. This is where professional cuddlers come in! A relatively new business, there are a number of cuddling businesses popping up throughout the United States, where clients can snuggle with professional cuddlers in a completely consensual and platonic way.

Typically, professional cuddlers will snuggle with clients on a comfortable bed for an hour or two. Of course, both people have to be fully clothed and can only touch one another in appropriate areas. Some cuddling studios have themed rooms, such as a tropical or meditative room, while sometimes cuddlers will even do house calls. Cuddling does not have to happen in silence, however, as professional cuddlers can snuggle up to their clients while listening to music or while watching a movie.

Golf Ball Diver

As any seasoned golfer would know, there’s nothing more frustrating than losing golf balls. With so many water hazards and sand bunkers on golf courses, losing a golf ball can be a common occurrence, especially if you are having an off day. There are, however, some people who will go the extra mile to recover these golf balls.

Famous courses such as TPC-Sawgrass actually employ golf ball divers to dive into water hazards, retrieve the missing golf balls and fix them up so that they could be resold at a discounted rate. With approximately 200 million golf balls being lost every year in the United States, plenty of business opportunities present themselves to golf ball divers. Of course, there is more to this job than meets the eye. Not only do golf ball divers need to be proficient at diving, but there is also the possibility of encountering sea creatures in certain bodies of water. This includes alligators that have been spotted in Florida waters on a number of occasions!

Online Dating Ghostwriter

These days, there’s an app for everything. This includes dating. With so many people resorting to apps like Tinder in order to find their significant other, dating coaches have adjusted their services in order to cater to the modern dating scene. This has resulted in much of their advice being directed to dating apps and websites.

Now that people are able to meet each other and flirt online before having their first in-person encounter, these dating coaches have become even more involved in their clients’ dating lives. Now, some coaches will actually write up their clients’ dating profiles, choose their pictures, and even send messages to the people they match with. So, the next time you have a conversation on Bumble or Match.com, there’s a distinct possibility that you might not be speaking directly to the person in the profile photo!

Hippotherapist

If you’re thinking that hippotherapy has something to do with hippopotamuses, you’d be sorely mistaken. While “hippo” is Latin for horse, hippotherapy refers to using horse riding as a form of therapy for people with disabilities. By riding horses, patients can develop better balance, coordination, and muscle tone while also improving their confidence and becoming more independent.

So, what exactly does a hippotherapist’s job entail? Well, a hippotherapist will place their patient on top of a horse and help the patient to ride the horse in a way that actually helps to improve their posture, coordination, balance, and their ability to move! Hippotherapists usually have a background in either occupational therapy or physical therapy and will use their specialized knowledge to select the best riding patterns, speeds and postures for each patient so that they can receive the most effective treatment possible.

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bluecollarfilm · 5 years

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Greener Grass (2019)

In a day-glo-colored, bizarro version of suburbia where adults wear braces on their already-straight teeth, everyone drives golf carts, and children magically turn into golden retrievers, soccer moms and best friends Jill (Jocelyn DeBoer) and Lisa (Dawn Luebbe) are locked in a passive aggressive battle-of-the-wills that takes a turn into the sinister when Lisa begins systematically taking over every aspect of Jill's life -- starting with her newborn daughter.

Meanwhile, a psycho yoga teacher killer is on the loose, Jill's husband (Beck Bennett) has developed a curious taste for pool water, and Lisa is pregnant with a soccer ball. That's just the tip of the gloriously weird iceberg that is the feature debut from writers-directors Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe, a hilariously demented, Stepford Wives-on-acid satire destined to be an instant cult classic.

Directed by: Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe

Starring: Jocelyn DeBoer, Dawn Luebbe, Beck Bennett, Neil Casey, Mary Holland, D'Arcy Carden, Dot-Marie Jones, Lauren Adams, Janicza Bravo, John Milhiser, Santina Muha, Jim Cummings

Release date: October 18, 2019

#Greener Grass #Jocelyn DeBoer #Dawn Luebbe #Beck Bennett #Neil Casey #Mary Holland #D'Arcy Carden #Dot-Marie Jones #Lauren Adams #Janicza Bravo #John Milhiser #Santina Muha #Jim Cummings #Movie #Movie Trailers #Film

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pbacklinks · 3 years

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Can You Make Money Selling Used Golf Balls?

New Post has been published on https://pingbacklinks.com/can-you-make-money-selling-used-golf-balls/

Can You Make Money Selling Used Golf Balls?

“Can I make money from collecting used golf balls and selling them?”

Have you ever asked yourself that question? Anyone who has ever walked a golf course knows that there are countless golf balls lost in the rough, or resting on the muddy bottom of the water hazards. Whether left behind because of frustration, or too difficult to retrieve without tools, these balls are often perfectly serviceable. If you’ve ever swatted a new ball into a lake on the first swing, then you know some of those balls are practically mint condition. Surely, someone would be willing to pay for them, right?

Absolutely. Selling used golf balls can be quite lucrative when done right. Whether you profit in the end depends on how efficiently and cheaply you are able to gather your inventory. So, what’s the best way to go about this?

Securing A Source

It shouldn’t surprise you to find out that the best place to gather quality used golf balls is on a golf course. This is the factor most likely to determine how successful your resale efforts will be. If there are no local golf courses or country clubs for you to use as a resource, don’t travel so far in search of one that the cost of the trip diminishes your gains.

Supposing you do have a likely establishment convenient to you, your first step is to speak with the management to request permission to collect the lost balls. This is a crucial step, as you could get into trouble deciding to roam the property hunting merchandise without permission. You’ll also want to offer to compensate the course by offering a percentage of your profits. Since you absolutely need their cooperation in order to succeed, be generous. A 25% cut is a good fair amount.

If they are receptive, be sure to agree on a schedule before you begin. You’ll want to come when the course is closed. You can’t roam around collecting balls while games are in progress.

Collecting the Balls

Once you have a solid agreement with a course, you can focus on how best to collect the balls. The two main places you’ll be checking are in the underbrush, and within water hazards.

For balls in underbrush, you’ll want to wear the appropriate clothing. Durable, long pants and boots should do the trick, with a pair of gloves to protect your hands when rummaging through the roughage. Have a bag or basket you can wear to place the collected balls into. You can even invest in a grabbing arm to avoid having to bend over as often to collect the balls.

Collecting from water hazards can be trickier. Depending on the size of the hazard, you may have to go diving to get the greatest return. However, there is actually a tool for retrieving balls in the water from the shore. Golf ball retrievers are telescopic poles with some sort of collecting mechanism on the end. While the mechanism varies from brand to brand, any one of them will get the job done.

Selling the Balls

So you’ve made a few forays on the course and picked it clean of errant balls. Now, how to turn these nuggets of white gold into money?

Clean them. This probably goes without saying, but you’re going to want to get all the muddy muck, dirt, and grime off of the balls. The best way to do this is to put them into a container with soapy water. Use dish soap or car wash soap. Avoid harsh chemicals like bleach. Your goal is to remove the dirt without damaging the cover. Scrub them with a towel after washing, and they should clean up nicely.

Categorize them. Once the balls are clean, you should be able to see their logos and any other identifying marks. Separate them into piles by brand and type. If you happen across any strange or unusual balls, look them up online. Sometimes you’ll find a gem that can be sold for more than the usual used price.

Price them. Generally, you’ll find that resellers sell balls in lots of 50 or more. You’ll want to price your top brand balls in good condition at around $1 apiece. Lower tier balls in good condition you can sell for half that at $.50. Balls in bad condition, with cuts and serious abrasion, you should price around $.25 each. These prices are guidelines. You should check online to get the best idea of the market prices for your particular merchandise at the time you are selling.

The sale of after market golf balls is a booming business. The Danish Golf Union estimates that golfers in the United States lose 300 million golf balls per year. If you have access to a place where you can gather them, it is likely you’ll find more than enough to make it worth your while.

#Make Money #Used Golf Balls

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jasonstiff · 3 years

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Spotted in my hometown of Dillon, Montana... the best golf caddy you ever did see! Great attitude, payment is food, water, petting and playtime, and the only ball retriever you'll ever need if your shot goes in the pond! Let's go play a round, K...9 holes? . . . . . #Montana #Dillon #dog #dogs #dogsofinstagram #golf #golfing #caddy #germanshepherd #GSD (at Beaverhead Golf Course) https://www.instagram.com/p/CS8hTbQP88s/?utm_medium=tumblr

#montana #dillon #dog #dogs #dogsofinstagram #golf #golfing #caddy #germanshepherd #gsd

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taohua-shuohua · 6 years

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July 27th and 28th, 2018

The 27th was my first full day with my homestay family, after having met and gone home with them the evening prior. My family is smaller than I’d imagined: it’s just my host mother, Yichu (艺楚, yìchǔ), and my host sister Qinghan (清菡, qīnghàn), whom I refer to and address as Meimei (妹妹, mèimei, “little sister”). Qinghan, who was still asleep when I rose for class that morning, shares her surname (刘, liú) with me and her age (10) with my biological sister in America. Yichu had prepared breakfast: a vegetable bun, grapes, eggs, a bowl of milk, and my beloved youtiao. Once we had eaten our fill, we began the walk to my classroom, which takes about twenty to thirty minutes. Apparently, there was a quicker route that connected our neighborhood directly to campus in about five minutes, but that road undergoing some sort of construction meant we were using our detour for the foreseeable future. Some students had already arrived by the time I got to the classroom, so after bidding Yichu farewell I joined my peers in idle chatter about our host families. It was mostly positive; one girl was struggling to explain to her host mother that curly hair couldn’t be blow-dried and she would have to sleep with it wet, which conflicts with the Chinese belief that sleeping with wet hair leads to headaches later in life. Another’s host parents were over-enthusiastic about having a native speaker available to tutor their daughter in English, and she felt as though she wasn’t using her Mandarin enough as a result. My biggest issue had been the lack of readily-available cold water; I was able to address it by dashing to the student store a few minutes before class and purchasing the largest bottle they had in stock.

The three hours of class passed quickly, but they came with a caveat. Today was Yang Laoshi’s last day as our teacher, as she would soon be heading to lead a conference in Shanghai and then, after that, taking a two-year teaching assignment in Thailand. My goodbye present to her was an In n’ Out t-shirt, which I presented with both hands as per local custom. My gift reserves were running low—after Yichu received a UCLA shirt and hat, Qinghan got a UCLA sweater and tank top (both of which were far too large for her), and my partner on our trip to the local community center a few days prior got UCLA and In n’ Out hats, I was resigned to two In n’ Out t-shirts (one of which I had just given to Yang Laoshi) and a UCLA Hawaiian-print shirt, which was intended for my nonexistent host father. I am considering bequeathing the latter upon the teacher who wrote my recommendation for NSLI-Y in the first place.

Lunch passed, along with our lecture period (during which it was announced that I was student of the week!) and our interest groups which, for me, had shifted from folk dance to martial arts. Perhaps by her own design, the Intermediate 2 students finished the homework Yang Laoshi had assigned with about twenty minutes to spare. She then suggested that, as it was our last day together, we all go out to the front of the building and take a group picture. We readily agreed. Several attempts at jumping later, we had gotten a satisfactory shot of us in midair. I returned to the classroom to gather my things, hugged Yang Laoshi, wished her the best, and went out to meet my host mother.

I’m fairly certain Yichu actually works in the same building that my classroom is in, as she was just exiting an office when I greeted her. Together, the two of us exited the campus and made our way to a nearby restaurant. Yichu explained that Qinghan was currently finishing up her weekly flute lesson; we would begin eating dinner and she would make her way over independently. The food was excellent. I had some sort of beef-based broth and noodles. Following dinner, the three of us made our way to Cat Street (猫行, māo xíng) which is directly adjacent to the neighborhood our house is in and exactly what it sounds like: a street with cat-themed stores, cat murals, and live street cats. Qinghan and I visited a cat museum, which was essentially a dozen cats in a cage with a gift shop and café attached. It was there that I found a stuffed cat bearing my name (桃花, táohuā), which I promptly purchased. I’ve yet to find a definitive answer, but through various interactions with native speakers I’ve come to believe that “taohua”, in addition to literally meaning peach blossom, is used to refer to one’s luck in matters of romance and love. Between my taohua cat and my visit to Guandi Temple, I ought to be married by the end of August.

Afterwards, we ate dessert at a roadside stand selling “Four Fruit Soup” (四果汤, sì guǒ tāng), a mishmash of fruits and jelly-looking foods topped with shaved ice. I can’t say I cared much for it, but I’m glad I tried.

The rest of the evening was fairly low-key; I shared some of my art with my host family and let Qinghan use my tablet. Yichu informed me that I should get lots of rest; the 28th was to be the first of our two homestay family activity days, one of the rare instances in the program at Xiamen where we wouldn’t attend Chinese class, and one of the even rarer instances where I could get up later than seven-thirty.

I did, indeed, end up sleeping later than seven-thirty: I woke up around nine, and was greeted again by a Yichu-prepared breakfast. In addition to another helping of youtiao, she gave me an overview of the day’s schedule; I would first accompany her and Qinghan to the hospital so they could receive a type of traditional Chinese medicine that Yichu struggled to explain. She said it was made from ginger, and that they put it on during the hottest day of summer so it could make them healthier in the winter. After that, we would meet a friend of hers and his children, play golf, and finally head to Gulangyu (鼓浪屿, gǔlàngyǔ), Xiamen’s “Piano Island” and tourist hotspot.

Chinese hospitals are a fair bit quicker than American ones. After waiting for just under five minutes, we were shown into a room where Yichu briefly exchanged words with a doctor, who then invited Qinghan to bend over a hospital bed and expose a portion of her back and pressed six or seven patches onto it. Yichu received similar patches on her stomach. The whole affair concluded in about twenty minutes. On our walk to the mall (which was designated as the meeting place for us and Yichu’s friend), Qinghan inquired as to whether we utilized such patches in the States. I told her no, and she unleashed a long string of Chinese, which Yichu interpreted for me as her being jealous that Americans didn’t use them. I asked if they hurt, and Yichu said no, but they were very warm. In a climate like Xiamen’s, I could see how added heat could inspire jealousy in the heart of any 10-year-old.

The mall had at least four floors. I was exuberant. Yichu settled herself on a bench near a Starbuck’s and told Qinghan and I we could wander about until her friend arrived. Once I understood that she meant separately (my mom telling me that I didn’t have to take my little sister with me was a novel idea indeed), I visited every clothing or makeup store on the first floor, in the end buying only a wine-colored and berry-tasting lip paint and a canvas tote bag that read (in English) “Made in China”, which I found incredibly hilarious for reasons I struggle to articulate. The two were exactly the same price.

When I returned from my shopping trip, Yichu was sitting where I had left her (Qinghan in tow) and the rest of our party had yet to arrive. We waited about ten minutes more, and Yichu finally received word that they were stuck in traffic and we could go ahead and get seated for lunch without them. On our way to the 3rd floor restaurant, however, Qinghan began having some sort of issue. My Chinese wasn’t at a level where I could make out the specifics, but it seemed as though she had tired and was now electing to just drop and sit down in the middle of the mall. She and Yichu had a very heated conversation, which culminated in the latter simply walking away without Qinghan and beckoning me to follow. Writing off the ethics of leaving a child unattended in a busy shopping mall as a cultural difference, I obliged. Yichu and I put our names in and, with minimal wait, were seated at a table. She did some preliminary ordering and then left me in charge of the table while she went to retrieve Qinghan. All was well for a bit, but when a waitress approached me and began asking questions (assumedly) regarding the order in rapid-fire Mandarin with non-standard pronunciation, I began to panic. Luckily, Yichu and Qinghan arrived and the former was able to give instructions regarding…whatever was being discussed, without any input from me necessary.

Yichu’s friend (whom she knew from high school) and his children (who weren’t actually his children, but rather his nephew and two nieces) arrived shortly thereafter. The man appeared to have an excellent sense of humor, but his thick accent (I believe it to be the Xiamen local accent; among other things, h sounds are completely ignored, turning Zhongwen (the Chinese language) into Zongwen and shide (“yes” or “indeed”) into side) gave me a lot of trouble. One of the nieces (a university student) spoke a fair bit of English, and acted as a translator at times. For the most part, I focused on my kebab.

After the meal, we headed to Furong Lake (芙蓉湖, fúróng hú), a part of the XMU campus that I had previously visited but had no qualms with seeing again. We took a route through the area that was unfamiliar to me, and it eventually led us to a golf course, where I tried my hand at the richest, whitest sport I can think of, second only to polo. I excelled, but likely only because, instead of trying to hit the ball into a hole, the goal was to hit the ball as far as you could. And I could hit real, real hard.

Seven trays of golf balls later, we backtracked away from the course and navigated the rest of Furong Lake, eventually reaching XMU’s main gate, where we rode the public bus to the ferry terminal for Gulangyu.

Upon arriving, we learned that it would be about an hour and a half’s wait before we could board the ferry. I alternated between reading (I’m currently on number three of the four poetry books I brought on the trip with me, and the last chapter of my nonfiction work), letting Qinghan play games on my phone, eating spring rolls Yichu had prepared, and visiting the public toilet. I’m fortunate to say that squatty potties no longer faze me.

The actual time spent crossing the strait is about five minutes, but the time spent going through security and shuffling on and off the vessel doubles that number. It was dusk when we set foot on the island; after an extensive photoshoot for me by the main sign we made our way to a shopping street. I entered a generalized candy store; I was offered a free sample of a drink that tasted exactly like American cherry-flavored liquid medicine, and was ready to leave the store when I tried “milk pinecone”. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s definitely not actually pinecone. I believe it was some sort of white chocolate. In any case, it was delicious, and I bought a box, which I then ate for lunch the day after. I also purchased (from different stores) a necklace, as well as a bracelet to replace an identical one I had bought at Kaiyuan Temple and then proceeded to break a few days after. I visited the Chinese version of America’s Lush, which sold bath bombs and facial soaps aplenty, and saw a genuine, live pig just sitting in a cage on the street and, in a different area, a very large rat.

For whatever reason, people I interacted with made more frequent references to my being hunxue’er (mixed race, as you may remember from a previous post) than I had previously encountered. The highlight was an older woman who stopped me on the street, presumably ready to offer me a free sample of the food at her restaurant or a flyer advertising a sale at her clothing store, looked at me, threw her plans out the window, and asked if I was hunxue’er. When I said I was, she pumped her fist, said, “很棒!” (Hěn bàng; “so awesome!”) and walked away.

A little past nine in the evening, my enthusiasm was beginning to wane a bit as I thought of the full day of school awaiting me on the 29th. Our party’s meander home, however, was interrupted when we passed a seafood restaurant and everyone (author excluded) decided they were ready for round two of dinner. It was more of a snack than a meal, but it was enough—by the time we boarded the ferry back to Xiamen, it was ten o’clock. On the mainland (figuratively speaking, of course: Xiamen is actually an island. Gulangyu is just a smaller island. Like Pluto, if it had a moon.) we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Yichu took Qinghan and me to the curb, where she was among a herd of people attempting to hail taxis. No luck. We jaywalked across the street to a bus stop, and Yichu examined the timetables. Everything would take us further away. Already heightened by the time delay of the impromptu meal, my stress levels were through the roof. We went through an underground tunnel and reached another bus stop. At this one, we waited for a bus and rode it for four stops or so. We got off, walked about two blocks, and were greeted with the familiar sight of neon-lit ears, tails, and whiskers.

I’ve never been so glad to see a street full of cat paraphernalia in my life.

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tomorrowedblog · 5 years

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Friday Releases for October 18

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we’ve decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for October 18 include The Lighthouse, Jojo Rabbit, Living With Yourself, and more.

The Lighthouse

The Lighthouse, the new movie from Robert Eggers, is out today.

From Robert Eggers, the visionary filmmaker behind modern horror masterpiece The Witch, comes this hypnotic and hallucinatory tale of two lighthouse keepers on a remote and mysterious New England island in the 1890s.

Jojo Rabbit

Jojo Rabbit, the new movie from Taika Waititi, is out today.

Writer director Taika Waititi (THOR: RAGNAROK, HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE), brings his signature style of humor and pathos to his latest film, JOJO RABBIT, a World War II satire that follows a lonely German boy (Roman Griffin Davis as JoJo) whose world view is turned upside down when he discovers his single mother (Scarlett Johansson) is hiding a young Jewish girl (Thomasin McKenzie) in their attic. Aided only by his idiotic imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi), Jojo must confront his blind nationalism.

Maleficent: Mistress of Evil

Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, the new movie from Joachim Rønning, is out today.

“Maleficent: Mistress of Evil” is a fantasy adventure that picks up several years after “Maleficent,” in which audiences learned of the events that hardened the heart of Disney’s most notorious villain and drove her to curse a baby Princess Aurora. The film continues to explore the complex relationship between the horned fairy and the soon to be Queen as they form new alliances and face new adversaries in their struggle to protect the moors and the magical creatures that reside within.

Greener Grass

Greener Grass, the new movie from Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe, is out today.

Miss Virginia

Miss Virginia, the new movie from R.J. Daniel Hanna, is out today.

Based on a true story, a struggling inner-city mother sacrifices everything to give her son a good education and launches a movement that could save his future - and that of thousands like him.

Wounds

Wounds, the new movie from Babak Anvari, is out today.

Disturbing and mysterious things begin happening to a New Orleans bartender after he picks up a phone left behind in his bar.

Zombieland: Double Tap

Zombieland: Double Tap, the new movie from Ruben Fleischer, is out today.

In the sequel, written by Rhett Reese & Paul Wernick and Dave Callaham, through comic mayhem that stretches from the White House and through the heartland, these four slayers must face off against the many new kinds of zombies that have evolved since the first movie, as well as some new human survivors. But most of all, they have to face the growing pains of their own snarky, makeshift family.

Looking For Alaska

Looking For Alaska, the new TV series from Josh Schwartz, is out today.

The series centers around teenager Miles “Pudge” Halter (Charlie Plummer), as he enrolls in boarding school to try to gain a deeper perspective on life. He falls in love with Alaska Young (Kristine Froseth), and finds a group of loyal friends. But after an unexpected tragedy, Miles and his close friends attempt to make sense of what they’ve been through.

Modern Love

Modern Love, the new TV series from John Carney, is out today.

The open, honest, painful and sometimes messy search for love is what makes it so real.

Living With Yourself

Living With Yourself, the new TV series from Timothy Greenberg, is out today.

Miles Elliott, a man struggling in life, undergoes a novel spa treatment that promises to make him a better person, only to learn he’s been replaced - literally - by a better version of himself.

Baby S2

The second season of Baby, the TV series from Antonio Le Fosse, Giacomo Mazzariol, Marco Raspanti, Romolo Re Salvador, and Eleonora Trucchi, is out today.

At what point is their secret life no longer a game?

Manifold Garden

Manifold Garden, the new game from William Chyr, is out today.

Rediscover gravity and explore an Escher-esque world of impossible architecture. Witness infinity in first-person, and master its rules to solve physics-defying puzzles. Cultivate a garden to open new paths forward, where an eternal expanse awaits.

There Existed an Addiction to Blood

There Existed an Addiction to Blood, the new album from clipping., is out today.

#Games #Movies #TV #News

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n3rdlif343va · 7 years

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Yuuri and Viktor going bowling for date night. Viktor completely destroys Yuuri. so on there next date night they go mini golfing... Yuuri rules... But the next date night they go to Lazer tag...... Write who you think would win that one!!!

FINALLY answering this ask!!! And because I had your permission to do so, I have adapted it to fit in the Law Firm of Handsome Nerds series :) Without further delay, I give you… Team Building (also available on Ao3: Team Building)

Their firm was exactly one week old. Boxes had been unpacked, hours of sweaty labor had been put in to rearrange furniture and arguments over who got which office had been resolved by a game of flip cup, played across the conference room table. The letters were finally stenciled on the door and everyone had agreed to Yuuri’s thoroughly structured filing system. They were officially the Law Firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov, and Chulanont, attorneys at law, friends in sarcasm.

The concept had been simple. Three friends, all the experienced attorneys, going out on their own to build a firm based on their combined knowledge and skills. Victor and Phichit would be in charge of networking and bringing in new cases, while Yuuri provided the initial clientele, stealing the majority of his previous clients from the public defender’s office. Reduced rates would be offered to each of these clients, with continued offers for reductions for every client they referred. Phichit was convinced that they would easily be making sustainable money long before their individual savings accounts ran out.

Yuuri had been the most hesitant, although a few drinks and hours of delicious food prepared by the husbands Chulanont had brought him on board. His paycheck from the State was a steady one, but it came with its own negatives and the positives of the new firm outweighed everything his current employer could offer him. At the top of the positive list was the open policy on bringing all of their pets to the office. The idea of having Vicchan circling his feet while working had put Yuuri solidly in the yes column.

So the firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov and Chulanont was born, an infant firm with three incredibly good-looking partners determined to make a name for themselves in the midst of the polluted market of legal counsel.

It was Phichit’s well-intentioned idea that they celebrate their new partnership with the ridiculous concept of team building. Yuuri had googled the phrase, finding workshops and campsites that encouraged it and had immediately shut Phichit down on the potential list of activities. In response, Phichit had volunteered another idea: bowling.

That’s how they all found themselves strapped into Velcro rental shoes, surrounded by loud music and flashing neon lights late on a Friday night. The idea of rock-n-bowl hadn’t appealed to Yuuri since their drunken college days, but he found himself having fun nonetheless. Until Victor had leaned over the back of his chair and laid down a challenge.

“I’m better than you,” Victor taunted, tugging on the back of Yuuri’s hair and making him twist around in his seat. “How about if I win, you have to set up my computer.” The signature smirk was painted over Victor’s face and Yuuri felt the distinct need to wipe it clean off.

“Fine,” Yuuri said, standing to take his turn. “If I win,” Yuuri lifted his ball, eying Victor over the top of it, “you have to build the TV stand that is sitting in my living room.” Turning, Yuuri bent his knees and released his ball. When it struck the pins they shouted in protest, diving for the ground in a pile of ten. Yuuri shot his own smirk at Victor. “Beat that… partner.” The last word had a bite to it, daring Victor to retaliate.

The challenge burned through Victor’s chest and he hopped off the small step, moving directly into Yuuri’s space. “You’re on, counselor.” He flicked Yuuri’s nose before dancing toward the lane to retrieve his own ball.

“The fun has just been sucked out of this activity,” Seung-gil stated, arm slung over his husband’s shoulders as Phichit snorted. Seung-gil wasn’t a part of the firm, but he was Phichit’s husband and therefore invited anywhere they went as a group.

“Let them fight it out,” Phichit watched as the teasing continued, Yuuri mercilessly attempting to distract Victor during his attempt to pick up a spare. The result being a slight wrestling match at the front of the lane, making Phichit chuckle and Seung-gil snort. “They have to get all that tension out somehow!” The pair was now tickling each other, firing off insults in rapid witty bullets.

“Side bet,” Seung-gil turned to look at Phichit instead of the ridiculous ball of sexual tension wrestling fifteen feet away from them. “I say they are together within the year.”

Phichit laughed, loudly and accompanied with a slap to his knee. “Those two?” He threw his head back with unexplained humor. “Oh my gosh, honey, they are so dumb. They have at least another five years of bickering to go before they realize how much they love each other!” Putting out his hand, Phichit shook his husband’s with a cocky smile. “You’re on, sweetheart. And if I win you’re mine for the day.”

“I’m yours every day,” Seung-gil purposefully avoided his husband’s innuendo, smiling when Phichit huffed at him.

“You know what I mean,” Phichit leaned in, running his tongue over Seung-gil’s ear. His husband blushed a fierce red and Phichit sat back triumphantly, eyes traveling back to the struggling mass that was his law partners. The two idiots were now crumpled on the floor alternating pinches and tickles in a fruitless fight for control.

It took them until the lights were being turned on to bowl the final frame of their first game, their progress dramatically slowed by Yuuri and Victor’s insistence on physically fighting between every turn. In the end, Victor beat them all by over forty points and Yuuri spent Saturday afternoon assembling his partner’s computer while Victor gloated from across the desk.

“What is that?” Yuuri leaned on Victor’s office door frame. In their first month they had made enough money to pay their rent and take home a little money for each of them. The flow of clients wasn’t yet constant so they all had time to tweak their offices to their liking. Currently, Victor was hanging a large chalkboard in his office.

“My win board,” Victor said, speaking around the nail that was braced between his lips.

It was a softball, lobbed beautifully into the air and Yuuri couldn’t resist the easy shot. “Why is it so big?” He snickered when Victor glared over his shoulder. “I believe my win-to-loss record is still better than yours.” Yuuri ducked when Victor threw a nail in his direction. “Your aim is as good as your defense work.”

Victor calmly hung his chalkboard over the nail, unwilling to ruin his hard work to pummel Yuuri. As soon as it hung in perfect balance, Victor laid the hammer on his desk and spun to face his best friend. “You better run, counselor.” He laughed as Yuuri yipped and took off running down the hallway. Taking pursuit, Victor could feel the laughter bubbling up. He snagged Yuuri halfway down the hall, bringing them down into a pile of laughter and cursing.

They hadn’t made record-breaking money, but the relief that they hadn’t fallen flat on their faces had kept Victor in an elevated mood. Using the exhilarated feeling, Victor let himself slip back into his younger self, wrestling with Yuuri in the slender hallway, uncaring about the wrinkles taking over his shirt and his one shoe which was lying a foot away from them.

Above them the distinct click of a cell phone camera broke through their physical altercation. Freezing, they both slowly turned toward their third partner seeing the smug smile planted on Phichit’s face. “I’m going to post this to the firm’s Instagram,” Phichit teased, waving his phone in the air.

Making eye contact, Victor dropped Yuuri’s wrists as they both screamed, “get him!” Scrambling from the floor, they chased the laughing Phichit through their small office.

Three days later there were chalkboards hanging in both Yuuri’s and Phichit’s offices, lovingly hung by Victor, despite each of the new boards being half the size of his own.

“Mini golf,” Phichit text to their group chat with a number of emojis that Yuuri didn’t even try to understand.

“Why,” Seung-gil text back without punctuation. Yuuri snorted at Seung-gil’s ability to be deadpan even in text.

“Sounds fun,” Victor responded, the three little dots appearing underneath it. “Katsuki, wanna bet I kick your ass again?”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed at his screen. Victor had won in bowling, but there was no way he would win in mini-golf. “Nikiforov, last time we played mini-golf you lost three balls in the water and threw your club at the clown hole.”

“Yuuri, you be in charge of Victor’s balls then so he doesn’t lose them,” Phichit added fifteen winking faces and laughed when Yuuri responded with all of the available weapon emojis.

“Ignoring you,” Yuuri responded, taking a second to structure his response, “Ok Mr.-I-can’t-handle-my-own-balls, you’re on. Name your terms.”

“I do just fine with my balls!” Victor’s text appeared so quickly it was as if he had anticipated Yuuri’s joke. “I win, you vacuum the office for a month.” The office cleaning was a set of chores which were divvied each week to avoid the cost of a cleaning service. Victor had pulled vacuuming which wasn’t the worst chore, but was a chore nonetheless.

“You’re on,” Yuuri replied, “and if I win, we switch chalkboards, since I need the bigger one anyway.”

“Over-compensating?” Victor shot back attaching eggplant emojis to his text.

“Who bought it in the first place?” Yuuri sent his message while snickering into the bag of his hand.

“Again, I ask…. Why.” Seung-gil’s text had Yuuri fully laughing at his desk as they continued to argue back and forth to set times for their next round of team building.

When Saturday afternoon rolled around, the four of them stood in the middle of the mini-golf course, surrounded by little kids, frustrated parents, and annoying teenagers. They had already been scolded twice for their inappropriate language and Victor was on his second ball.

“What’s the score?” Yuuri asked, lining up his shot on the ninth hole, wiggling his ass for comic effect.

“You are winning,” Victor huffed, arms crossed over his chest. “Cheaters never prosper, Yuuri.” Proving his own point, Victor kicked Yuuri in the foot and tripped backwards being caught by a giggling Phichit.

“Is that so?” Yuuri tossed back nonchalantly. Staring straight at Victor, Yuuri swung his club and sunk his ball into the hole in one shot.

“For fuck’s sake!” Victor exclaimed, tossing his own club onto the ground.

Yuuri won by 14 strokes, they almost got kicked out twice, and Victor relinquished his larger chalkboard after three solid days of whining about his loss.

Yuuri was sitting behind a stack of files, feeling overwhelmed as he delved into the detailed word of personal injury. He had signed up for a conference taking place later in the year and hoped he could fake it until he received the training and continuing education that the conference would provide. Sighing again, his head snapped up as Phichit knocked on his open door.

“I acquired two interns,” Phichit leaned against the door with his arms folded over his chest.

“Acquired? Phichit it sounds like you fucking bought them!” Yuuri shook his head as Phichit howled with laughter.

“Of course not! Only you, Yuuri!” Phichit laughed again. Composing himself, Phichit cleared his throat. “They are ending their first year of law school so they need experience and are happily working with us without pay. I’m trading them conference room access and studying assistance.” Yuuri hummed in response, not particularly caring as long as he didn’t need to be involved in the process. “You know what this means, right?”

Glancing up at Phichit’s excited face, Yuuri moaned and banged his head on his desk. “Phichit, no!”

“Phichit, yes!” his law partner yelled, pumping a fist in the air. “Team building, here we come!”

Which is how they found themselves, along with their two interns who looked bewildered, strapped into laser tag gear at ten p.m. on a Thursday night. Phichit attempted to sacrifice himself to the team he deemed the “intern team,” leaving Victor, Yuuri, and Seung-gil on the same team.

“Nah uh,” Victor declared loudly, “I can’t be on the same team as Katuski. Bets don’t work if we are on the same team.”

“No bets!” Seung-gil and Phichit yelled in unison, making the interns, Yuri and Otabek jump. “We are here for fun, you two!” Phichit eyed them carefully, flicking a finger between them. “This is an activity to make us a better team.”

“Besides,” Yuri added, glaring at Victor, “you are the tallest, so you are an easy target, I don’t want you on my team.” Yuuri roared with laughter until Victor shoved him into a wall. Kicking his foot out, Yuuri caught Victor behind the back of the knee, dumping his best friend on the ground. “On second thought,” Yuri shoved Phichit into Seung-gil’s arms and yanked Yuuri to the side with himself and Otabek. “We’ll take him.”

Victor pouted from the ground, his acceptance of Yuuri’s offered hand filled with grumpy salt. Leaning over Yuuri, Victor narrowed his eyes. “If we win, I want my chalkboard back.”

Yuuri laughed, stepping back to stand with Yuri and Otabek. “If we win, I get the couch.”

A shocked look appeared on Victor’s face. “You wouldn’t!” He placed a hand over his heart, mockingly acting as if he had been mortally wounded. “That couch has sentimental value to both of us!”

Rolling his eyes, Yuuri stuck his hand out. “Take it or leave it, Nikiforov.” Smirking when Victor grabbed his hand, Yuuri quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “May the best man win!”

“I intend to,” Seung-gil added, smiling slightly before dragging Phichit away to their base.

In the end, Yuri was a ringer no one saw coming, mercilessly killing off the other team with repeated and skilled fire. His score was so high that it left the other members of the firm staring at the scoreboard in disbelief. Yuuri’s team easily won and he silently gloated through dinner about his future use and possession of the worn blue couch that had once existed in his shared apartment with Victor.

Victor refused to get off of the couch while Yuuri and Phichit attempted to move it from his office the next day, resulting in them giving up and calling him a baby. “A baby with a couch!” Victor yelled triumphantly from his office, dodging the handfuls of the firm’s pens as they were launched at him by his partners.

The war of thrown office supplies, spurred on by Victor’s retaliation for being bombarded with pens, left their office a complete disaster and the three partners a flushed, humor exhausted mess. Sinking back into his chair, smirking at the pile of disorganized supplies scattered through his personal office, Yuuri decided that joining his friends in this adventure was the best decision he had made in his life.

And thus through humor, friendship, and curse-laden sarcasm, the Law Firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov, and Chulanont came to be.

#yoi #yoi fanfic #yuri on ice #victuuriwriters #victuuri #answered asks #fullmetalkarneval13 #love you dearest #also bad language #they curse #because lawyers

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