#story time with the dude from a gift shop

[mjj-nostalgia]

Wore my newest MJ shirt into a gift shop on vacation the other day and the store owner talked my ear off about how he was covering for a TV channel once and he got to film Michael do the moonwalk across the stage, didn't specify when and where this was, but he never "felt anything more electrifying than in that room" and that he was "a genius"

If this man was telling the truth here, BLESS. What a memory!!

Then, he moved on to talking about Prince with the lady behind us in line LOL

[sharkorok]

enha + reunions

summary: enhypen seeing their s/o after a long time!! :)

genre/tw: fluff, sappy fluff, crying, established relationship, idol!enhypen and reader doesn’t have a specified occupation, cursing, cute!!

a/n: mom made me pancakes guys everything is good

———

heeseung

-picks you up from the airport and does that thing where you run into his arms and he picks you up and spins you around GAWDDDD

-so happy to see you he’s peppering kisses all over your face but he’s still like “did you miss me? I bet you missed me hm?”

-has the prettiest smile on his face while you guys are on your way home, asks if you were alright during your trip and if everything went well, physically cannot bring himself to stop holding your hand or touching you somehow because he has you back and he won’t let you go!!

-I’m physically nauseous with how much he’s all over you like it’s almost overwhelming but he can’t help himself from being heads over heels for you

-“tell me you missed me as much as I missed you” mf you missed him more 😭😭

-if you’re the type to cry he’ll laugh while holding you, stroking your hair and promising you you guys are gonna be together again for a long long long time

other members below :)

jay

-honestly the only thing you were missing when he was gone was him physically, he literally would never miss a second to call or text you or send you money to go on “shopping” dates or FaceTime you before bed when he could-

-he got home super late and was so ready to crawl into bed and fall asleep, especially with YOUUU

-he saw you, and you lazily peeked up and smiled before outstretching your arms and gesturing for him to come and cuddle and he just melts. he hates being away from you but when he comes home to this it’s suddenly all so worth it

-buries his face in the crook of your neck and almost immediately falls asleep because he’s just so safe and comfy with you

-“I missed you so much, baby.” “I missed you too.”

-had the best sleep since he left you <3

-refuses to let you go or wake up in the morning so you better clear the next day when he gets home because u r stuck w that man!! (and ur not complaining)

jake

-“my baby’s home!!”

-all giggly and jumps to be all over you in a second, even if it’s in public he’s giving you such a phat kiss in an instant <3

-prompts you to tell him everything while he was gone, and in return he does the same, filling in with every detail and showing you all the photos he took of layla and him because he was so lonely without you :,)

-jay’s part made me lowkey sleepy but for you you’re gonna be staying up because Jake needs to talk to you and hold you and just be with you every second when you come back

-and yea he’ll wake you up unless you seriously need some sleep but you better stay up for him >:/

-I feel like he’s clingy but in the way he’s so reliant on you as a part of his daily routine and so he just feels like a part of him is missing when you’re gone, and now you’re back!!

sunghoon

-“wowww ok y/n so you didn’t get me the live band and sculpture of us kissing made from roses or even a six foot teddy bear covered in your perfume/cologne?? The bare minimum?”

-he’s mostly joking because he lowkey melts inside the second he sees you, showering you with souvenirs and gifts he picked up while he was away, telling you stories of everything he did and got to do

-“were you eating right? everything alright while I was gone?” acting like he didn’t text you good morning every. single. time. smh!!

-probably slows down and gets nervous that you think he didn’t actually miss you so he pulls you into his arms reaaaally tight out of nowhere and is like “I missed you yknow” but you better say it back or he’ll get sassy on you!!

-honestly takes a whole day off so he can catch up with you and just spend time with you since he was deprived of his y/n <3

sunoo

-gets so hype when he sees you again!! he’s so giddy and silly and I love him sm dude it’s not funny

-kisses your forehead/cheek when he sees you again, at home he’ll give you an actual kiss :>

-“pls don’t ever leave me again I couldn’t stand being w those buffoons for that long” “…?” “yknow my members?”

-makes you tell him everything and if you took photos he’ll be staring super duper intently at each and every one of them helping you dissect each one

-“no your hair looks better here post this”, he comments as he’s the small spoon and your head is rested on the top of his SOBS MY EYES OUT REALLY HARD 🤣🤣

-tells you every single story that happened when you were gone in excruciating detail and he’ll pretend to be offended once you fall asleep but he’ll tuck the two of you in, give you a kiss on your forehead and whisper, “I missed you so much”

jungwon

-I feel like he would cry in private especially if it was a really long trip

-apologizes for being emotional like STFU DONT CRY BBYYYY 😭😭😭, and he just wants to hold you and never let go so you guys aren’t apart ever again!!

-“were you good? you better have been!! tell me everything that happened while I was gone ok? :))” and he gladly listens and you two exchange stories but the entire time he’s looking at you so fondly you feel like you’re falling in love all over again

-“why are you looking at me like that won?” “I just missed you so much.”

-you bet ur ass he’s all over you for the next week, he feels so safe around you and not having you was like not having oxygen to breathe but in a healthy non toxic way

-gets all giggly and shy if you say how much you missed him too :,)

riki

-“almost died without you” -him the second he sees you again

-he’s not very loud about it because he can feel awkward expressing his emotions but holy fuck he never knew he could experience longing this bad

-the second he sees you again it feels like he got hit by a truck in the best sense of the phrase, he holds your hand so tightly you lose circulation you think

-“shh I know you missed me too” but that’s just because he feels embarrassed getting all sappy in public T-T, at home he’s letting himself get wrapped up in your arms and lazily talking about how lame it was to not have you around

-“I literally was not gonna make it another day let’s be fr here” “you’re so dramatic niki” “only for you y/n”

-melts when you press a little kiss to his forehead before bed the night you or him gets back, talking about how you two will be together for as long as possible <3333

-SOBS SO HARD U GUYS R SO CUTE *dies*

[warping-realities]

What She Wants

I know I promised the previous one would be the last one for a while but I had a video that I not use in one of the last stories and ended up creating a shorter one just so as not to waste it. I hope you like it.

Cherisse was pissed off. At her old schoolmates and at herself. The five-year reunion was coming up next weekend, and she was gonna have to show up all alone. She never really gave a damn about this kind of stuff, always focused on her career. But then, why the hell did she lie about having a boyfriend? She knew why—those bitches Brenda and Destiny with their pathetic little housewife lives and their useless husbands loved to say that because she was a bodybuilder, no guy would wanna date her. I mean, what kind of dude would go out with a woman bigger than him? That thought made her wanna scream, but those bitches had a point. Even the male bodybuilders ended up choosing curvier, less muscular women, which really pissed her off. The fact that she was so close to becoming a big star in the bodybuilding scene should’ve been enough to ease her doubts, but it wasn’t. In reality, she was so fed up with everything that she dropped her apartment key on the floor of the hallway in the tiny building she lived in, thanks to her job as a Personal Trainer. At least for now, since she had contracts lined up with several big brands by the time she stepped on Olympia stage in a few months, which was what she should’ve been worrying about. Frustrated and angry, she picked up the key from the floor and stood up, only to see David, her neighbor, walking by. The blond thin and extremely cute guy worked at a nearby coffee shop and was always super polite to her, even though any flirting attempts on him had been shot down.

She knew she couldn’t make him like her or… could she? Remembering the times she got shot down by the guy, combined with the frustration about the upcoming event and the possibility of being ridiculed by her old classmates… all of that lit a fire inside her that made her decide to take action. She’d been warned a bunch of times not to mess with her gift, that it could spiral out of control and come with a high price, but she was tired of being the good girl, tired of being humiliated. It was time to think about herself. She will get what she wanted.

….

After a long day at the coffee shop, all David wanted was to flop down on the couch in his tiny one-bedroom apartment and chill, and maybe, just maybe, look for a hookup on Grindr. After throwing on a tank top and some shorts, he was about to head out of his room when he heard a noise—there was someone else in the apartment. Creeping up to the door, he was freaked out and jumped.

“Cherisse, what the hell! What are you doing here? What you want?

“What I want, David? I want my boyfriend!” The muscular black woman replied, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Yeah, I want my boyfriend, David. My boyfriend who loves me and would do anything for me!”

“Cherisse… you’re out of your min…” David started to say, cutting himself off as a weird sensation flooded his body, like he was about to choke, making him gasp for air. Then he was shocked to hear his own voice while his mouth moved on its own.

“But that’s what you already have, babe.”

“Not enough! I want my boyfriend, bigger, more muscular, and stronger than me.”

The choking feeling hit him again, this time harder, along with a dizzy spell that made David wobble for a second. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover. With his giant biceps and powerful pecs on display, he looked a few inches shorter, with shaved hair and a square face, wich smiled to Cherisse.

“Stronger and more muscular for sure, and two inches taller!”

“No, I want more! I want my bodybuilder boyfriend, way bigger than me, my boyfriend with beautiful dark hair and a darker skin.”

In an instant, the bodybuilder David underwent a transformation, turning into a caramel-skinned version with brown eyes and well-kept dark hair and beard, maybe of Latin descent.

“Much better! Take off those shorts and pose for me, David!”

He obeyed, stripping down to just his underwear and flexing his powerful muscles for his girlfriend to see.

“Yummy, but I still want more.” She commented licking her lips without noticing the change in her voice and vocabulary. “I want my boyfriend with delicious choclate skin as dark as mine. My professional bodybuilder boyfriend, Mr. Olympia material boyfriend. My boyfriend who fulfills all my needs and will accompany me to my school reunion, and make all the jealous bitches shut up they skunk mouths. Now come, come to me, my love,” she said, as the uncontrolled power took over completely.

As the muscular giant, who minutes ago had been a gay dude just looking for a casual hookup, walked from the bedroom door towards her, with each step he took, he grew larger while his skin darkened to a chocolate tone. His pecs looked like two slabs of meat, his abs lost some definition, but his arms swelled to the size of tree trunks. As sweat dripped down his body, his black wavy hair transformed into small curls in a stylish cut with shaved sides, while his underwear turned into gym shorts, and the tiny apartment room morphed into a spacious mansion living room.

While all this was happening and the power dominated Cherisse’s mind, she didn’t notice that her short hair, which had fallen out due to steroid use started to grow back in beautifull well manteined curls while her voice gained an airy melodious tone. As the former David grew bigger, she shrank, her powerful muscles becoming smaller but defined, while her glutes became curvier and her breasts softer. Then, as the monstrous off-season bodybuilder stood smiling in front of her, her clothes evaporated, leaving her in a tiny bikini that showcased all her perfect curves. Finnaly the whirlwind of power seemed to reach its peak before fading away forever while the reality reset.

The smile on the behemoth's face quickly vanished when he noticed his girlfriend posing in the middle of their living room.

“Can I ask what the hell you’re doing, Cherisse?”

“Babe… I… I thought you’d be back later.”

“I decided to surprise my girlfriend, and guess who’s getting surprised? Don’t tell me you’re back to that ridiculous idea of competing in Bikini Fitness. I’ve already been clear with you about that. You don’t need to work, especially not by exposing your body; I’m the one who takes care of all my wife’s needs.”

“Wife? What do you mean?”

“Well, that was the surprise I was gonna pull on you, but it looks like…”

“Stop being silly, I was rehearsing, yeah, but it was just for you, my love.”

“Now you’re talking like my future wife,” he replied, with his smile returning.

….

That weekend, Cherisse was bursting with joy. As her boyfriend parked the car, she rushed over to meet her old school friends, Brenda and Destiny, in the garden of the beautiful restaurant they class picked for the high school reunion. After some kisses, hugs, and excited squeals, Brenda looked at her curiously.

“Is that on your finger what I think it is?”

“Yup!!! He proposed to me!!”

“So, we’re finally gonna meet your boyfriend… sorry, your fiancé?”

“Yeah, look over there,” Cherisse said, making her friends look at the handsome specimen of a man strutting confidently towards them—300 pounds of pure muscle covered in a beutifull chocolate skin, wearing a light gray suit with a vest and a shirt whose last buttons could never stay closed, showing off a gorgeous chest. All of this was topped off by a rugged face that could make knees weak.

“Girls, this is Deshaun, my fiancé,” she said, knowing the others would be dying of envy.

Later, as her friends walked in, Deshaun pulled her close.

“Are you happy, my love? I know how important this reunion was for you.”

“Happy? I’m totally fucking ecstatic, babe. I showed those bitches who’s the best. I’ve got the best house, the best body, and the best man. What more could I want?”

[blacktobackmesa]

SO I MADE A PROOF OF CONCEPT.

music used: kirby's epic yarn, mort garson's plantasia

voices: my beautiful self

Transcript:

GORDON

“Am I the asshole if I yelled at a clown?” Now I’m gonna pre-empt here. I’m gonna say it first, nobody else gets the satisfaction: What’s Gordon doing yelling at a mirror? Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha.

BUBBY

What-- Gordon, don’t be so hard on yourself!

TOMMY

We’re not gonna call you a clown, Mister Freeman. 

BENREY

Yeah, I like clowns. 

GORDON

Is “I like clowns” your way of saying I’m not a clown? Or are you just saying it? Just saying it to say it? [Beat.]

Benrey, do you not like me?

[Beat.]

BENREY

Clowns are cool, I don’t know what else to tell you. 

[SFX: The Banjo-Kazooie Jiggy Collection Jingle plays. This is Gordon’s stream donation alert.]

COOMER

Gordon, please tell us a story.

GORDON

So! “So I live in Brazil--”

[SFX: The Brazilian Football/soccer goal fanfare. An echoing voice shouts “BRASIL!” and is followed by upbeat music. The sound cuts off abruptly.]

GORDON

Thank you, Benrey. “I live in Brazil, and it’s a little common to have people in clown attire and makeup trying to sell you stuff at the subway entrance, and they can be a little annoying. They even started carrying a credit card machine so people can’t use the old excuse of ‘I don’t have any cash on me’.

DARNOLD

I love the wording of the singular credit card machine for all Brazilian clowns. 

GORDON

[rereading]

“Started carrying a--” I didn’t even notice that.

COOMER

They’re sharing!

BUBBY

“When I was your age, we only had ONE credit card reader, and we had to go all the way to São Paulo to borrow it for ONE customer!”

TOMMY

That must be why they hang out at the train station! 

BUBBY

Right! They have to travel!

GORDON

Come on, guys. Are you really gonna do this to someone who speaks English as their second language?

TOMMY

Oh no! We don’t want to make fun of them. We’re, we just like their words!

BENREY

English is hard. You gotta embrace when you say wrong shit. It’s like art.

COOMER

Gordon, we are creating derivative works from the words of the clown yeller. 

GORDON

Alright, fair enough. “I was walking to the subway that I usually go to. It was early for me, nine in the morning. I was going to work because my boss asked me to go early so the cleaning lady had someone there.”

BUBBY

Nine A.M. is EARLY work hours in Brazil? What the hell are we doing here?

DARNOLD

If I showed up to the Mixology department at nine in the morning, I’d be demoted back down to working at the gift shop!

COOMER

Doctor Freeman was able to hold down his position in spite of his frequent tardiness! 

DARNOLD

Doctor Freeman started the end of the world. 

COOMER

Darnold, that sounds like a skill issue.

GORDON

[beginning with a raised voice to restore order]

“Keep in mind that I was at work until midnight the night before and was going to work until midnight again, so I was a little tired and thinking about my day.”

DARNOLD

You guys got to go home between shifts?

Okay, that-- that sounds a little closer to my work schedule.

BUBBY

GORDON

“Getting close to the subway, I saw the clown and-- [laughs]

[SFX: Gordon’s stream alert faintly goes off. It is followed by the Geraint TTS voice, which says “BRASIL CAMPEÃO DO MUNDO”.]

GORDON

 --I saw the clown and immediately thought, ‘Oh fuck. He’s going to stop me’.”

COOMER

Gordon, I can award you one PlayCoin for every time I have heard that arrangement of words in that order.

GORDON

“‘He’s going to stop me to try to sell me stuff.’ So when I was approaching him, and he already started to talk before I even finished crossing the street, I was already putting my hand up and saying, ‘Sorry man, I’m good’.

BENREY

“No thanks. I already ate.”

GORDON

Exactly. “He tried to make me stop, even though I was on my third ‘dude, I’m good.’ And when he was still trying to make me stop, something came over me.”

BENREY

Lust.

GORDON

No.

Tommy, Darnold, Coomer and Bubby break into laughter. Gordon eventually laughs as well. 

GORDON

No-- [clears throat] “Something came over me, and I just yelled, ‘DUDE!’ and looked at him while I was still walking.” Presumably in Portuguese, so the tone might be a little different from “Dude”.

DARNOLD

Does anyone here know how you say “dude” in Portuguese?

BENREY

You don’t. 

TOMMY

Probably Mano.

GORDON

Chat says “cara or mano”. What was that, Tommy?

TOMMY

Mano.

GORDON

Mano. Good to know. “He looked fucking pissed, and when I was a few good steps away from him, he yelled: ‘I’M JUST WORKING! FUCK!’ And I yelled--”

TOMMY

He broke the clown code!

GORDON

--And I yelled back, ‘FUCK, AND I’M GOING TO WORK!”

BUBBY

A traditional call and response.

GORDON

And it closes with “Did I just create the Joker? Lol.”

DARNOLD

I dunno. I think the Joker would be pretty embarrassed if his entire backstory was getting yelled at once at the train station. 

BUBBY

“You wanna know how I got these scars?”

TOMMY

Yeah. Brazilian Joker-- 

BUBBY

“From sharing one credit card reader!”

[SFX: Gordon’s stream alert goes off once again, followed by the TTS voice saying “Five months. Lust.”]

TOMMY

--he would be a lot cooler than that.

GORDON

So aside from that, is OP the asshole for yelling at a clown?   

COOMER

I think they made a friend!

GORDON

You do? By yelling?

COOMER

These two working class heroes shared an important bonding moment about the difficulties of earning a living.

BUBBY

Yeah, some days you just need someone to scream the Fuck word at.

GORDON

Well, shit. 

BUBBY

OP made that clown’s day.

GORDON

I’m convinced. Yeah, all agreed?

TOMMY

Yeah.

DARNOLD

Yeah, no harm done.

BENREY

It’s part of that circle of life.

GORDON

Well, there we go. Not the asshole.

COOMER

The real clown was capitalism.

[SFX: A fanfare noise plays. This is followed once again by the Brazil Football fanfare, this time played in full without a cutoff.]

[writingduhh]

Chuckle Sandwich || Shopping With Him (HC)

I had this idea while talking to my absolute bestie babe @lvrj4mie 😩 ILYSM

Im also taking requests or just any suggestions or ideas!! Thanks for reading!

❥ Jschlatt:

▷ Would rather die than go shopping… He only goes because he loves you.

▷ Holds all your bags and items you pick.

▷ Definitely will pull some skimpy or revealing clothing off the clothing rack, suggesting you try it on for him.

▷ Trying to encourage him to get outside his comfort zone (Only wearing shorts and sweatshirts 😭)

▷ After some time passes he actually begins to enjoy himself. Well, he enjoys spending quality time with you.

▷ I can see him sharing random yet entertaining stories with you as you walk around from store to store.

▷ He absolutely insists on treating you to at least one thing. Whether it’s a new pair of pants, some new shoes, or even just a pretzel from the cafeteria.

▷ Having to stop his impulse buying of stupid or useless things.

“Y/n look!” Schlatts voice calls, catching the attention of a passersby or two.

“Shh. What is it?” You playfully hush, walking over to where he stood, investigating the shelves.

Suddenly he pulled out the most ridiculous looking monkey replica (the golden ball monkey lmao

“What is THAT?!”

“It’s a beautiful golden balled monkey.” He grins, happily showing off his find.

Together you both shared a laugh. Assuming he’d put the item down you began to walk over to the next shop. To your surprise he didn’t follow you. Turning around you saw him motioning towards the register as he stood in kind.

“Jay, what are you doing? That’s expensive for such a silly thing.”

“Don’t worry y/n, we’re rich!” He jokingly responds (he would say this)

“Schlatt, are you seriously going to buy it? What are you going to do with it?”

“I’ll take him everywhere with me! I’ll tuck him into bed and kiss him goodnight.” He excitedly explains.

You can’t help but smile as you let out a small sigh.

“If you really want it, go for it.”

▷ He definitely makes sure you stop at the cafeteria for some lunch or just to taste test some snacks.

❥ Ted:

▷ Such a gentleman. He holds all the doors open for you, holds your bags, offers to pay (even though you politely refuse)

▷ He’s Low-key quite fashionable. He’d be helping you pick out trendy clothes and even help you put together cute outfits

▷ Always suggesting things for you to try on. He loves to see you happy and confident in the new clothes.

▷ Enjoys trying things on himself as well. He’d definitely throw in a crazy outfit just to get your reaction.

▷ Definitely takes this opportunity to use the Photo Booth or at least get some cute and funny pictures with the two of you

▷ I can honestly see him being the type who enjoys people watching.

▷ You sit in the cafeteria together sharing some food as you watch people walk past, making up little stories about their lives.

“Ok ok, what about him?” Ted questions, motioning towards the passerby.

“Uh, I think he is currently in a big fight with his partner. He’s definitely trying to find them a gift or something… I’m not very good at the game. You go. ” You reply.

“I thought it was a great story. Hmm ok that dude right there. He’s actually undercover right now. He’s an fbi agent called… 770. There is a huge heist going on right now in the store below us.” He seriously remarks.

“Why are you so good at this game.” You playfully sigh.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it eventually.” He chuckles, placing a kiss in the back of your hand.

▷ Makes you do a try on haul the second you get home, mixing and matching every possible outfit

[quixotical-lymbo]

Warnings/Tags: Just some tooth-rotting fluff  Word Count: 500+ words

Wow! You and MK are dating! 

Did he make the first move or you? It depends because of how dense MK can be at times. If you give him a lot, and I mean a LOT, of hints then he'll eventually get it and perhaps make the first move. On the other hand, if he doesn't get it then I can imagine that it's you who took the first step in y'all's relationship. 

Where do y'all usually do dates? Pigsy's shop, the anti-gravity arcade, and your rooms. Basically the entire city is y'alls playground. On rare occasions, MK takes you to the places he's had adventures at to show off and tell stories of the perils he's faced. 

Gifts? Only for special occasions like valentines day, anniversaries, birthdays, or when MK wants to apologize to you for something he did. 

PDA? He won't be drooling all over you, but even if you like PDA or not he'll unknowingly display casual shows of affection without even realizing that you two are in public. It just feels natural for him to be affectionate with you, public be damned. Cheek kisses, hand holding/squeezes, and even a spinning hug that ends with the two of you on the ground laughing are all fair game to him. 

First kiss? Truth be told, MK would be the one to initiate it after the first date. The kiss would be quick, rushed, and show that he's a bit inexperienced in this aspect. Watch out for him knocking his forehead against yours. 

How he would be with a partner: Sweet and attentive, which is very rare considering how distracted MK can be at times. Like, sure he could sometimes forget your anniversary or what flavor of ice cream you want–but MK always makes up for it through groveling and kissing your feet (literally did it one time, but you put a stop to that right then and there). 

MK leaves the spider killing to you. Poor boy can't even think straight when in the presence of one. 

Wouldn't miss the chance to be annoying and chase you around your home/apt. Asking for cuddles whenever he comes back from a long day of training, working, and getting dirty. 

MK seems like the type to have intentionally cringy nicknames for his partner, things like 'your majesty', 'My heart and soul', 'cutie patootie', or worst of all 'pookie'. 

He always has you on his mind, whether at the forefront or back-burner. There's always something during his missions/adventures that reminds him of you and what he's fighting for. 

How he acts around them vs others: MK is very caring towards his friends and even kind/somewhat tolerable towards strangers/potential foes. He's generally a very casual, happy-go-lucky, lovable dude that can be a bit naive at times. Now, with you? He can act the same compared to others, but the finer details suggest otherwise—always making sure you're ok and well fed, a lot more handsy and all up in your grill, making sure to have some time put aside in his schedule for you, and obviously the piles and piles of affection he'll shower on you at random times. 

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

[attapullman]

The Boys Are Back / Whodunit? Origin Story

Summary: When best friends and childhood sleuths Bob Floyd and Mickey Garcia grow up, everything seems less fun. Thankfully things are about to completely change for these two hometown goofs.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, 80s inaccuracies, sci-fi opinions do not reflect that of the author

A Note From Mo: As would be the only appropriate gift for providing the inspiration for Whodunit?, happy birthday @bobgasm! Thank you for loving these two as much as me and helping make their story as fun as it is. Wishing you the best birthday on New Zealand time (we'll be celebrating America time as well, don't worry 😉)

origin story / prologue / whodunit? masterlist

“Are you really trying to convince me that Return of the Jedi is better than The Wrath of Khan?” Mickey couldn’t wipe the look of disgust off his face at this zit-faced teenager at the counter. The two fairly recent box office hits were a common disagreement, and this kid came in thinking he knew all that and a bag of chips.

“Force lightning? Luke trying to redeem his father? Dude, George Lucas made the last two movies true masterpieces, cinematic perfection!” 

Rolling his eyes, aware that this knucklehead has no clue who he’s going against (all the best film geeks in town knew to not go against Fanboy Garcia and his sci-fi knowledge), Mickey dropped the copy of Raiders of the Lost Ark into a plastic bag along with the receipt.

“The Wrath of Khan brought people to tears. Invested us deeper into the characters we’ve loved for years, grown up with. Spock’s death shocked an entire nation, no doubt about it. And don’t be stupid, Vulcan nerve pinch defeats Force lightning every time.” He slides the bag across the counter with a scoff. “Movie is due back Tuesday. Come back with some real ammunition next time, airhead.”

Cheeks red, the teen grabs his bag and scuttles out of the Blockbuster. The bell chimes and suddenly the shop is empty. 

While the access to new releases and movies in the break room were great perks, Mickey was so over this job. The blunderhead teens with their gnarly opinions, the bratty moms who always complain about the return dates. It’s just renting a movie for a week, not that complicated. When was his cousin going to get back to him about that maintenance gig at city hall? The sci-fi fan slumped against the counter and continued watching the copy of Legend they just got in.

Across town, Bob was also struggling with his work day. When was everyone going to realize he didn’t set the price of parts? He wasn’t even really a mechanic, just a guy who needed a summer job in high school and never stopped coming in. A star employee, he enjoyed the puzzle of putting components together and the purr of a perfectly oiled engine. 

It may not have been his dream job, but the free parts for his ’65 Mustang and the content silence he and his uncle worked in wasn’t horrible.

Two more customers come in and try the haggle the price. Neither are impressed with the calm way Bob explains the cost of labor and parts, rubbing his greasy palms impatiently on his coveralls as he breaks down why he doesn’t work for free. And when he asks if they’d like him to undo the work to cut the cost, pocketbooks are pulled out and he’s got money in his pocket for beers later.

His uncle is long gone by the time Bob locks up the shop with a heavy padlock on the garage door. His boots scuff in the dirt as he makes his way to the Mustang, her blue paint shining in the late summer sun. She was stunning.

The breeze whipped through his hair - too long for his mother’s liking - as he drove across town. Mickey was just opening the door to The Alibi as he parked on the street. The best friends tip their heads in greeting.

“Bobby.”

“Fanboy.”

The two slap their hands together. Palms first, then two slaps from the back, before looping around to fist bump. A handshake from elementary school that somehow has carried on twenty years. After a few drinks a shimmy will make its way into the mix.

They take up residence at the bar, the same spot they’ve occupied a few nights a week since they walked out of that Navy enlistment meeting and never looked back. The bartender always knows to hand out whatever’s cheapest unless they’re holding paychecks.

“How many people confuse Star Wars and Star Trek today?” The cutting glare Mickey gives him says it all. Probably not the best time to make a Darth Khan joke.

Lost in the clatter and whoops of the bar, the best friends mull over their meaningless hourly jobs and contemplate the meaning of ‘the man’. Bob’s leather jacket hangs off the stool back, the sticky air of the bar clinging to the twentysomethings’ skin. One beer becomes two, two becomes three as the weekend arrives.

A loose curl hanging over his forehead, Mickey makes eyes contact with a babe across the room. He’d happily spend the evening with those beautiful eyes. The only perk of this dingy bar is it’s the only one in town, and a mix of old classmates and new-in-towns keep the dating game fresh.

Bob himself does a quick look around at the night’s prospects, doing a double take. No, it couldn’t be. When did the police captain’s daughter get back into town? She shoots an amiable smile and nod back before turning to her own drink and friends. 

Mickey raises his eyebrows at his bud. Bob shoves him off his stool on the way to the bathroom.

As the night progresses, only the young and the young at heart (and alcoholics) are still in their seats at The Alibi. The best friends are a handful of beers deep, leaning across the bar to chat with Mickey’s childhood neighbor, Tom - a gruff guy with a beer gut and a penchant for belching when he laughs. They love making him laugh.

“I tell you two about the rocks that keep showing up on my doorstep?”

Mysterious rocks? The boys lean in closer, their light denim-clad pelvises nearly over the bar top. Shaking their heads, all ears, they urge Tom for more information.

“Been happenin’ for months now. At first I didn’t think anything of it. Animals maybe? But they keep getting bigger and bigger. Tripped over one the size of a melon yesterday, stupid fucking rock. Belchhhh.” The boys snicker into their beers. “Can’t figure out who’s doing it. Gonna end up breaking my front step with a mountain one of these days.”

The boys exchange a look as they contemplate the conundrum. Who would just leave rocks on Tom’s doorstep? Wouldn’t it get old after a few weeks? And rocks of all things?

“It’s not that big of town. Who could it be?” Mickey cocks his head to the side. Tom has always been a nice guy. A little oblivious, but harmless. “Your ex-wife back in town?”

The bearded man shakes his head, scratching the underside of his belly as he realizes it’s time to call it a night. 

As Tom goes to pay his tab, Phil, who’s been manning the bar at The Alibi since before LBJ was in office, spoke up. “You two solved mysteries as kids, yeah?” 

The young men give him a perturbed look, confused why he’d bring up their silly sleuthing games from decades before. Hesitant, Bob nods. Who could forget the years spent hunched in random hiding spots, notebooks and binoculars at the ready. Mickey still had a scar from falling out of the second floor stairwell in the community center.

Tom is delighted, his drunken eyes lighting up. “Any chance you two could take a whack at figuring out who’s leaving all these fucking rocks on my doorstep? There’s a twenty in it for ya.”

It’s been…years since they last solved anything. Petty crimes from other classmates, some neighborhood drama, but that was before puberty. Did they still have the gift?

“Sure man, why not?” Shoulders are shrugged, hands are shook tipsily. They’d stop by in the morning before their shifts. Natural curiosity has them dying to see the assortment of rocks.

Tom heads out and the boys clink the necks of their bottles together, enjoying the last sip of the night. Who knew where this was going, but they were always up for a challenge.

A week later, the two returning sleuths are hunched over behind a bush with a pack of pretzels and a six-pack, mud caking Mickey’s new Air Forces. There’s cigarette stubs in the dirt and they’ve been arguing over the best flavor of Fanta for an hour.

In the wee hours of the morning Tom’s next door neighbor sneaks into his garden to place a rock roughly the size of a pumpkin on the front step. The shared fence issue Tom thought to be resolved? Definitely not. 

Another neighborhood drama solved. Twenty dollars in their pocket.

But with the solve comes a burning itch that Mickey can’t scratch. Keeps him up at night, lives in the corner of his brain while he rents movies to bored-face teens. A blazing fire that can only be tended, not extinguished.

“What if we started our own detective agency?”

Bob spat out his ginger ale on Mrs. Garcia’s freshly cleaned granite countertop. Was Fanboy tripping?

“C’mon man, why not? Put up some flyers and solve whatever rinky dink shit comes up in our free time? Make some extra cash? We might actually be able to move out on our own. Don’t you want freedom?” 

They’d been bitching about it for months, wanting to get out of their childhood bedrooms and actually do something with their lives. So the Navy wasn’t for them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t serve their community in other ways. Maybe this was the answer to their unsure futures.

Bob grabbed his best friend’s hand, the decade-old handshake turning into a brotherly hug. “Just promise me we won’t get into anything too crazy. I like my Sundays on the couch.”

In six months they’d raised the cash for their own apartment, a small two bed in the dusky pink modular building off Main Street. In a year the amateur sleuths had been in the local paper twice. And two years and several police case assistances later, they stood across from the police captain’s daughter, not a smile in sight.

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[sulfies]

Mermay Fic pt1

Ezio always felt bad about the small number of humble gondoliers he sent into the canale for a swim, he really did. He did try to apologize the first couple of times but honestly, he just did not have the time for it anymore. He usually did just toss them coins if anybody did walk up to him all angry the next day at the square.

And it truly was not that big of a deal, It's just water… 

“Oh did you hear-”

Ezio picked up his freshly repaired boots from the apprentice of the cobbler when trained ears picked up on the two ladies gossiping about the latest in Venice.

“No wait he did not! The assassin?!”

Who? Did what? What did he get up to this time? Ezio nodded at the shop as he slowly walked closer getting into the earshot more to get the full story on his new supposed doings…

“Yes Yes! Elena saw it too! He was docked as he always is around those times, you know that man likes a schedule” The other woman nodded agreeing and Ezio held a sigh.

Stalling aren't we… get to the juicy bits woman. His foot tapped on the stone ground

“and suddenly the brute jumps down on him and throws him into the canale, doesn't even yell sorry or look back, just takes off with the gondola!”

The other woman did an offended gasp as Ezio finally also clocked what they were talking about

“And I normally like the assassin guy too! So I was shocked ofcourse, everyone was-”

He tilted his head remembering yesterday's run-ins, Yes maybe he did throw another one into the Canales torrents as he was on a chase but what was the big deal this time, if he got legs he can swim, it's not like the gondolier was-

“I mean what kind of a sane man throws a paralyzed man into the water and steals his boat!”

Oh…

The gondolier was Paralyzed...

Nothing is True everything is allowed so might as well toss a disabled towner into the water Ezio!

“Well was he all right? Is he injured?” 

Yes was he? Ezio wanted to rush out to the woman and shake her asking if his victim was okay, what was his address and would he accept a sorry in payments.

“Thankfully no, but he refused to let us help him out…” The woman's tone took a curious tune. “It was weird but he was probably embarrassed and didn't want people to see… you know…” The hand gesture around the legs told what she meant and it only drew another stake at Ezios heart so Ezio took it as his cue to leave and look for the man.

Well… He fucked around too much and now has to beg this old dude for forgiveness…. 

He looked at the new boots in his hand… can't even give him these, great fuckup Ezio. Leo will laugh his ass off about this.

—------------------

It took him two days to track the man down, turns out when half the city is traversable via water everyone tries being a gondolier at least once, but this one has made a name for himself, which did not help Ezios conscience because all everyone said was;

“Oh, that man? yes, you can find him around here when the sun is up midday, very sweet and strange that one, always jokes with the others, nice to talk to.”

”Oh you mean him? Such a nice fella always chats to me about my day…”

”Paralyzed Gondolier…. ah you mean the nice one that hangs around here all day?”

So needless to say Ezio was sweating a bit but he was here to make things right!

His purse was heavier than usual today with an apology gift added into it, he walked the middle district scanning over any water he could see as he passed the bridges, he came to an opening of a small courtyard where people were sitting under the tree on benches and some street kids were playing around. It was one of those areas that had access to the water via stairs and docks. It was one of the busier yards since it had few shops around it too.

Ezio realized this was, in fact, the route he took 3 days ago, hopefully finding him will be easy, there can't be that many disabled gondola rowers. His eyes moved over the body of water,  there were 5 gondoliers docked near just hanging about, 2 of them sitting on a dock near their boats. He tried to look for an old weak man but the one he did notice did not show up on his eagle vision at all. 

When the same man also got up to stretch Ezio erased him off of possible victims.

Then he caught a flicker of gold light and his eyes zeroed into a golden bright figure on the left,

He blinked turning the vision on and off a couple of times...

”Ah cazzo, just my luck”

He didn't almost drown an old man who couldn't walk, he almost drowned one of the most handsome gondoliers in Venice.

[billthedrake]

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

"Russ?" the voice called out as I walked through the big-box store parking lot. "Russ McAdams?"

Maybe it was the dark winter dusk or maybe I just didn't expect to see Coach Stanley, out of the classroom in his casual hoodie and jeans, but it took me a second me a second to connect the voice with the face.

Given how much I'd jerked off to fantasies about my AP History teacher back, I probably should have recognized him immediately. The guy wasn't the only dude I lusted after in high school, my body swimming in teen hormones and my head trying to make sense of it all, but I always thought he was the hottest teacher at Aurora High. 5'11" thick ex-baseball player muscle, thinning brown hair and a clean-shaven face that always seemed on the verge of a five o'clock shadow. Even the way he walked was a little bow-legged and a lot masculine.

He wasn't clean-shaven any more, instead sporting a closely trimmed beard. And he wasn't in his khakis and button down shirt now, but instead had on a puffy winter jacket and jeans, with a scarf that mostly covered a casual sweatshirt underneath.

"Coach Stanley?" I said as I realized who was walking up to me. Ed Stanley wasn't my coach, just my teacher, but all the school called him Coach Stanley or Coach S for short.

"Almost didn't recognize you," he said as he held out a gloved hand. I shook it. "Seems you've done some growing in college."

"Yeah, I guess I have," I chuckled and took his words to be a big ego pump. After I moved off to school and came out, I decided that I'd hit the gym. Hard. I was an athletic kid in high school, on the soccer and tennis teams, but I was slender, and my height made me look even leaner. But it was winter break of my junior year and I'd put on a lot of muscle since Coach Stanley last saw me.

"Well, you're looking good, Russ," Coach S said. I mean it was probably an innocent compliment, but standing a few feet apart from the guy, I got caught up in his blue eyes and bright smile for a second. All those silly adolescent puppy crushes I thought I'd outgrown came flooding back to me.

I know I blushed, but my red cheeks could probably be explained by the cold evening weather. I'd underdressed given I had only planned to pop in for a last-minute gift for my sister. "You running some errands, Coach?" I asked.

The man nodded and gave one of those trademark Coach Stanley smiles. Fuck I was gonna be jerking off thinking of him later, for sure. "I've kind of procrastinated but I'm here to pick up a tree." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "It's a lot of trouble to go through with just me, but you know, I guess it doesn't feel like Christmas without one."

I didn't know Coach Stanley's story. I mean, a few of the girls in my high school gossiped about his hot fiancee, so I think I expected him to be married by now.

"You busy shopping, Russ?" he asked. I half thought Coach would just say hello then go on his way. But I figured a teacher enjoys running into a former student. And I was a good student, I knew - academically successful and all-around "good kid."

"A last minute gift," I replied, holding up my bag. "Guess I'm a procrastinator, too, Coach," I laughed.

Stanley flashed me that bright grin, and it seemed like his eyes couldn't break contact. Fuck. "Well, I guess I better let you get on with your errands," he said. "Good running into you, Russ. Take care."

"I will," I said. "Good seeing you, too, Coach."

He paused and then added. "And if you ever want to stop by the school, say hi... I'm always around."

"Will do," I said.

We both kind of stood in the parking lot, looking at each other. I think we laughed at the same time from the awkwardness.

"All right," he finally said with a nod and turned to walk over to where the Christmas trees were set up.

He got about four paces, but I spoke up. I couldn't believe I was about to say this, but I figured if I made a fool of myself, it didn't matter. I didn't live in my hometown any more. And something about Coach's vibe made me think something was up.

"Hey Coach," I said. The man stopped, surprised, but turned around. I took a couple steps forward. "This may sounds weird," I said with a deep blush. "But if you want some help setting up your tree, I'd be glad to help out."

I could feel my heart pound, and I wanted the parking lot to swallow me, the embarrassment was coming on so strong. Thankfully, Coach Stanley's smile returned. "Yeah?"

I nodded.

He seemed like he was trying to check some emotion. "I'm sure you have better things to do, Russ," he said.

I had no inclination that Coach Stanley even thought about guys, but those words were when I knew he wanted me.

"My parents have some holiday party to go to, and I don't have any plans," I said. "I'm happy to help. Honest."

Coach paused then agreed. "All right. Maybe I can give you my address and you can meet me over there?"

We made a plan.

I went back home to drop off my shopping and to grab a quick bite. I had a quick change of clothes. I felt weirdly nervous, like I didn't know what Coach Stanley went for. It was a weird thought and unexpected I'd even be thinking this on a Saturday night before Christmas. I took off my sweats and slipped on a nice pair of jeans. A long-sleeve gray T and a layered T-shirt with my college logo on it seemed to be a nice jocky-preppy outfit and the snug size showed off my body pretty well.

"Hope you like it, Coach," I laughed in the mirror.

I went down to find some leftovers for dinner.

My dad was in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine he was taking to the party. I told him I was thinking of going over to hang out with one of my friends. And maybe staying over if that was Ok.

Dad was the softer touch of my parents, but Mom probably didn't care. I was responsible, and they had a lot of me time over the holidays. "Just text us when you know your plans for sure," he said.

"Will do, Dad," I replied. "Have fun at the party."

"Be safe," he added, as went to get his coat, just as Mom came down the stairs.

They left pretty soon thereafter, and I cleaned up from my quick dinner.

By the time I got to Coach Stanley's place, I was feeling nervous, real nervous. I parked my car and walked up to the front door of the modest colonial house in a decent but not overly fancy neighborhood. I started second guessing myself. Maybe I'd been misreading the cues, but even if so I'd have some quality time with an incredibly hot man. I figured I'd just enjoy that for what it was worth.

When Coach answered the door, I was so turned on. Gone was the puffy coat and the scarf and the sweatshirt. My high school history teacher stood before me in a pair of jeans, sock-clad feet and a loose, thin cotton T-shirt of some fundraising road race. This shirt was a little loose but somehow draped perfectly over the rounded shoulder muscle and strong pecs. Even if it wasn't snug, I could tell Stanley kept his midsection flat and trim for a dude in his late 30s. I don't know why this was a major turn on, but Stanley wore a thin gold chain necklace around his corded neck.

"Glad you could make it, Russ," he greeted, his mellow tenor voice gaining a friendly edge. "Come in. I've just put the tree in the stand and was about to start on the lights."

I did feel kind of dumb. In my imagination, I'd come over and right away would be having sex with my former teachers. But here I was to help him with his tree. I took off my coat and followed him to the living room.

There were a few wrapped presents set to the side and a few family photos in frames. And there was a big bookshelf with hardbound books. But other than that it was very much a bachelor home. Sparse and clean, but not homey at all. I kind of liked it as a glimpse into Coach's personality, but it kind of felt lonely, too.

I set my coat down and followed his directions, holding the string of lights as he wrapped it around.

It was all business, but having two men at the task made it go more quickly. Next was the garland. Then there were a bunch of ornaments to put up - a couple of boxes.

"We don't need to do all of these," Coach said, handing me one.

It was a little frustrating being so close to this hunk in his own home. But it was a good kind of frustration. Sneaking looks at him. His handsome face, his serious demeanor, his hunky body. It was like every sexual thought I'd had sitting in his third period class all junior year came back to me, only it felt more powerful. Closer, more real.

At that point I wasn't expecting anything to happen. Maybe Coach was lonely at the holidays and just wanted some company. If so, I was happy to give it.

Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Let me just get by you a sec," he said. He reached up over my shoulder and hung an ornament in a bare spot. And just as quickly his hand left.

I wouldn't think anything of it, only two minutes later, he repeated the action. I paused and savored the grip of his hand on my shoulder as he placed the ornament.

My heart was pounding now. I waited a few more minutes, feeling this strange energy in the room. I really didn't want to misread things, but something was up. As Coach reached over and put a ball on a branch, I stepped beside him, almost behind him and put my hand on the middle of his back. Coach Stanley had one hell of a strong back, I could tell, and up close I could smell his aftershave.

"Mind if I get in here, Coach?" I asked, reaching up to the top. I had a good four inches of height on him.

As soon as I placed the ball, my eyes dropped level again and I saw those mesmerizing blue eyes. Quietly expectant.

I gently massaged that spot in his back, through the T-shirt and leaned in.

Coach's lips were soft, almost chapped, but they parted and I felt the tip of his tongue graze my own lips. As I parted them, our mouths connected fully in a kiss.

In my imagination of how this evening would go down, nothing compared to the thrill of that kiss. I was a young guy still, just 21, and I was realizing then that none of the guys I'd been with really knew how to kiss. Not like this.

Stanley's look was all serious when we finally broke for air. My heart was racing and I just sensed his was, too.

"You OK with this, Russ?" he asked softly. "I usually don't do anything like this."

I ran my fingers along the small of his back. I may not have had Coach's kissing skills, but I enjoyed being physical and handsy-flirty when I hooked up with a guy. It was something I learned from a frat boy I sorta-kinda dated and now something I consciously worked on.

Coach seemed to like it, and I could see his nostrils flare as my fingertips slid under the hem of his shirt to touch his bare flesh.

"More than OK with it, Coach," I grinned. Just being close to him I could tell how solid his body was, and that was turning me the fuck on. But I noticed Coach S wasn't making much move to touch me or feel my body. "More to the point... are you OK with it?"

He cocked me a little grin. "Yeah, Russ... it's just... part of me thinks I shouldn't be doing this."

"I'm not gonna blab to anyone, Coach," I said. "Promise." I ran my fingers up higher along his lats. Rock hard solid muscle that was more dense than bulky. I could tell the man was gonna give me new workout goals, already. "Come on... I want this so bad."

That made him smile. "I want you, too, Russ," he whispered, getting that serious look on his face again. And I was now getting my second Ed Stanley kiss, almost better than the first. And the man's hands were now on my waist, openly feeling me up as he pulled me into his body.

We made out, right in his living room, right in front of the Christmas tree, and our hands moved from gentle exploration gradually into groping. It was like we were copying each other's moves, and one-upping them.

The look on Coach S's face when he pulled back was adorable. I could see a crazy amount of lust but also the desire to fight it.

"I like to take things slow, Russ," he said as his blue eyes swept up my taller form.

"Works for me, Coach," I muttered, my voice cracking with lust. I mean, my normal MO would have been to go hard and heavy with a dude like this. But I didn't want to see the impatient young guy I really was.

He cracked a smile. "How bout some make out time in the bedroom?"

I nodded and followed him. The master bedroom was somehow even barer than the living room of Coach Stanley's house. But it smelled like Coach's aftershave and the scent hit me like pheromones as I watched the man pull the covers down and get up on the bed, still in his stocking feet and clothes.

Normally, I'd be stripping down, ready to get it on, but I followed Coach's lead and kicked off my shoes before joining him.

"Thanks for coming over, Russ," Coach said softly after a kiss.

My hands were on his chest. I was doing my very best to be a good boy and not grope the man too much but fuck he felt nice. I'd hooked up with some hot guys before, but Stanley was probably the hottest I'd scored. And the fact that I had some lingering high school fantasies added to the thrill. I was rock hard in my jeans as we lay on our sides, face to face.

"Not how I was expecting my evening to play out, Coach," I said. "This is a fantasy come true, to be honest."

He chuckled softly and ran his fingers along my flank. "It's Ed, Russ," he said. "You can call me Ed."

"All right, Ed," I said. "But I'm probably still gonna think of you as Coach."

He shook his head gently. Maybe mildly bothered by the fucking with his former student thing, but owning up to the dynamic. "Probably to be expected." Then he added, "You really better not fucking tell anyone, Russ." It was the first time I'd heard my former teacher swear, but the gruff tone was in gest, even if I knew Stanley had real anxiety about what we were doing.

"For real, Ed.... whatever happens stays between us." I took a deep breath and felt my heart pound. I was not good at doing the patient approach. "I know you wanna take it slow, Coach, but you make me so fucking horny."

That made the man laugh. "All right, buddy," he grinned. He pulled back and kind of sat up. I watched him pull his T-shirt off over his head.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I gasped, my thought going straight from my head to my lips. Coach's body was just incredible. Meaty and thick, but also in shape, even with knotted abs. He had a lot of brown fur on his chest, swirling over his round pecs capped with thick brown-pink nipples. And to top it off that gold chain clung around his neck.

"What?" he reacted with a laugh.

"You, that's what," I said. "That body is insane." I normally didn't verbalize my reactions to men when I hooked up. Then again, normally with my hook ups both men would have gotten off by now and be getting dressed to go our own ways.

Stanley seemed pleased with my compliment. "You're looking in fine form, too, Russ... come on, show me what you got."

I felt inadequate but I wanted to get the party going, so I stripped my shirt off, and raised the ante by undoing my jeans and pulling them down over my legs.

Already, Ed's hands were on my semi-naked body, feeling me up. Seems that Mr. Take it Slow was getting horny himself.

"Damn, Russ, you're not one of those Corbin Fisher guys, are you?" he teased.

I was eating his praise and his touch, too. After I kicked off my jeans I spread my legs to show off the hardon in my boxer briefs. I wasn't porn hung, but I measured up pretty well against most guys I'd been with, and I was certainly rock hard right then.

"You watch that stuff, Coach?" I laughed.

"I won't lie, Russ. That stuff's gotten me through some pretty lonely nights." His blue eyes met mine directly, communicating not only his desire but his vulnerability. For some reason, that made my cock twitch.

"No need for porn tonight, Ed," I replied. Then with an impish smile, I added, "Unless you wanna have it on."

He shook his head with a laugh. "No. No porn." He took his hands off my biceps and reached down to undo his jeans.

I swear my breath stopped as I watched him peel them down. I swear I don't know how and why I didn't realize that Ed Stanley had gone commando. As the jeans slipped down, I saw the thick brown hair of his lower belly, then a solid erection eager to poke out.

Coach was of average length. Totally average, yet thicker than normal. His cock was girthy and beautiful and seemed to fit him.

But his attention was on me, and as he scooted up back close to me he ran his fingers along the waistband of my underwear. "May I?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," I replied. Like a kid unwrapping a present he peeled them off over my boner and then jerked them down my legs. My prick stood up and jerked in excitement.

"That's a nice tool, ya got, Russ," he growled. He stared at my cock then looked up to my face again. "You definitely could be in one of those Corbin Fisher videos." His fist wrapped around my hard meat and almost instantly his palm was smearing my pre cum down the shaft with its regular strokes.

I touched his dick, now, too, feeling like I had permission. He hissed, and I watched his face react as I did my best to adjust my touch and approach. "You into college dudes, Ed?" I asked. Maybe it was nosy or forward to ask. Coach wasn't old or anything, I'd guess mid 30s, but he seemed very much into my collegiate body.

He nodded. "If I'm honest with myself... yeah. I guess I think and wonder what if I'd done stuff back then."

I felt back for Coach S and also weirdly protective of the man. I let go of his dick and held up my arm. "Come here, Coach," I muttered.

He took the invitation and scooted into my embrace, nestling his warm furry body against mine. For a man in his early 30s, Ed Stanley was as hairy as a man in his late 40s. I wrapped my arm around his back and he held me in a similar grip. We humped our hard dicks together, slowly, but didn't really escalate the sex. Not yet. Ed just rested his head in the crook of my neck and held on to me.

"Feels nice, buddy," he said. Then, nervously, "you must think I'm a mess."

I patted his back. It was incredible how solid his lats were. "Not all, Coach... Ed..." I heard him laugh. "It bother you that I'm still calling you 'Coach'?" I asked. "Old habits and all."

Stanley pulled back. Up close his face seemed less youthful but he was even more handsome. I tried to memorize the soft lines in his rough-skinned face and the close trim of his beard. "It's probably not making me feel less like an old pervert, but it's all good, Russ."

He'd asked me to take things slow and we were just in this quiet emotional moment. Which is why I was surprised by the sudden move Coach made to roll me onto my back, with him on top of me. He was 5'11" and shorter than me but he easily weighed as much. I loved feeling every bound of his hard body on top of mine.

We kissed, and Ed was no longer doing the soft, gentle kiss. It was more the hard sexual kissing I was used to. Coming from this man, it drove me wild. Roughly he thrust into my crotch with his. I never was into frottage, and this wasn't gonna get me off. But as foreplay I fricking loved it. Feeling Coach S's athletic ex-jock body on top of mine, working up his own sexual heat to match mine as we sucked each other's tongues and then took turns plunging in and out of our mouths with them.

This whole evening had been unexpected and had played out with surprising ease. Only I realized I didn't know Coach Stanley's deal. On the apps, you know from the get go what the guy is looking for. I didn't know if Coach was a top or even if he was into fucking. For my part I was pretty vers and while anal was my favorite thing, giving or receiving, practicality mean that an oral hookup was more common.

The way Ed was putting his whole body into our intensely sexual make out made me half expect the man to kick my legs apart and ravage me. Instead he slowed his hips and paused, pulling back with a big fucking grin.

"Please tell me you suck dick, Russ," he hissed.

I chuckled. "Yeah, Coach."

That was all he needed to hear. Gone was the patient man. Instead he quickly scooted up and lined up his dripping cock to my lips. I mentally prepared myself, hoping Stanley wasn't the type to go into rough facefucking mode. I opened my lips and felt his prick press past them.

Thankfully after Coach pushed in three solid inches, he let me do the work. I didn't have a great angle or a lot of room for move my head back and forth, but that was OK. Stanley didn't need a pro blowjob, it turns out. After a minute of my awkward bobs, I felt his quads tense and his voice get real strained.

"That's it, Russ..." he hissed. His sexy masculine voice now needy. "Right fucking there, buddy.... so close... Yeah, keep sucking! Oh god, oh fuck... UNGH!"

His cum was hot and the load thick. The angle made it shoot against the roof of my mouth so it was a half second before I tasted him. He was salty and sweet and I was instantly hooked. I swallowed that ejaculation and moved my mouth back and forth, adding suction to coax out a few more jets. Other than the my sorta frat-guy boyfriend and a 20-something dude I went out with for a few months, I didn't have much relationship experience. And in my one-off hookups, my dick size meant I was more often then not being serviced orally. But damn, I loved this feeling of a man cumming in my mouth and down my throat. Particularly because it was Coach S.

He finally pulled back, a huge smile on his face. "Thank you," he muttered and patted my cheek. Then, he said, "your turn."

I watched as he quickly scooted down to get on all fours between my legs. I had been so focused on blowing him, I almost forgot how eager I was to get off myself. Coach was reminding me now, the way he licked up my boner, one side then the other.

Maybe Coach was closeted, I don't know. But the man knew how to suck cock. He had a good technique as he took me into my mouth and started working me up and and down. But the most amazing thing was his enthusiasm. Even though he'd already gotten his rocks off, the man was so clearly into this. Into sucking dick. My dick.

I watched him and enjoyed him, not overly urgent in my need to cum.

But, fuck, I felt Ed's fingers nudge my ball, and the urgency hit me. I thought of trying to hold back but I worried I'd mess up a perfectly great orgasm.

"Coach!" I hissed. "I'm gonna cum.... oh SHiT!"

I could hear Ed gulp as I pulsed my seed into his mouth. Then on my second spurt, he let out a deep, excited moan.

I leaned my head back and just enjoyed every wave of pleasure that coursed through me. I could get used to Ed Stanley's skills, for sure.

Finally, the man relinquished my prick and gently kissed up my belly and chest. I felt a little ticklish after the intense cum, which made him laugh softly.

"Thank you, Russ," he said, now raising his weight above mine, our soft dicks pressed together but our torsos not touching.

"Man... you're the one that's letting me live out my high school fantasies."

I could see him wince a little at that but he just nodded. "Well, I'm glad." He gingerly scooted off to the side, resting on the bed beside me. "I'll be honest, Russ... I don't know the etiquette in these situations."

"What do you mean, Coach?" I asked, turning toward him and running my fingers through the hair on his chest. I wanted to memorize the look and feel of this man.

He seemed shy now. "Sometimes guys seem to want to split once they get their nut. And sometimes they seem mad if I don't ask them to stay."

"I've done both, Ed," I assured him.

That seemed to relax him. "Well, you wanna stay for a bit? Maybe we can light the tree, enjoy some egg nog?"

I nodded, a smile on my face. "Yeah," I said.

That made him happy, I could tell. It seemed strange a man as hot as this could be so lonely, but I was happy to be his stand-in boyfriend or whatever for the evening.

We kissed some and then got up to get dressed again. As we padded back into his living room, I had to ask, "So... there been a lot of guys for you?" Maybe it was a sore point, but I figured if Ed wanted to some quality time, we could talk man-to-man.

He shrugged. "About ten. About half of those in the last year," he explained. "I guess I'm still figuring some stuff out."

I nodded, sympathetic. I had a different journey than Coach, but I understood some of what he was going through. "Well, I'm real glad I ran into you, Ed."

He smiled. "I'm glad too, Russ."

[ofliterarynature]

AUGUST 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok nope DNF (bookclub) reread*]

True Grit • A Sorceress Comes to Call • (Fit for the Gods) • A Short Walk Through a Wide World • The Chestnut King* • Where the Drowned Girls Go • The Hollow Boy* • The Philosopher's Flight • The Whispering Skull* • Death by Silver • Grandma Gatewood's Walk • Across the Green Grass Fields • Tales from the Hinterland • The Screaming Staircase* • Ascension • Running Close to the Wind • August Kitko and the Mechas from Space

* * * * * *

Lockwood & Co - time for a reread! I really like the idea of ghost books but struggle to find ones that I like, but these are perfect! The worldbuilding and story structure is somehow just what I want - just enough rules to give them the confidence to be bad ass AND tension for when they royally screw up, and a fantastic, case-book type narrative where the characters are going about their lives, fighting ghosts, and not actually getting to the titular case until halfway through the book. Love it! I need more like that actually. (I recommend The Angel of the Crows)

Tales from the Hinterland -since I finally read The Language of Thorns I figured I should get around to this too. I didn't like the related novels all that much but WAS interested in the stories, but it's been so long I've mostly forgotten their context. I didn't mind it, and I think Albert has a better grasp on the language and form of fairy tales than Bardugo, but the inescapable grimness of the stories quickly became repetitive and boring.

Across the Green Grass Fields - it took me a bit to warm up to this one, but once we went through the door I had a good time! I think this is probably my favorite of the individual door stories so far. On the other hand, I usually like the ensemble books, but Where the Drowned Girls Go didn't quite work for me this time, but it might be one that just needs a second read.

Grandma Gatewood's Walk - I've seen this one around (most recently at a Hocking Hills gift shop) and finally picked it up since my library had it on audiobook. Unfortunately it was doing a lot of things that annoy me about certain nonfiction and while it was readable and interesting, I wouldn't say I enjoyed it or would recommend it.

Death by Silver - a gaslamp mystery/gay romance that was fun! If you like a mystery that is, the "romance" coasts along on the "old school friends/hookup buddies" line and doesn't really get any development (or steaminess), but things do keep moving and it was a nice enough read that I'd maybe try some of the author's other work (but maybe not the sequel)

The Philosopher's Flight - I don't even know. It *was* a good read that moved along well, BUT... I don't want to lay everything at the feet of "it was written by a man," but it definitely had its effects. Stories about girls and women going into a man's world and showing them all up are pretty common and catnip to me (Keladry my beloved), but something about a man doing it in a women's organization that exists in a patriarchal society WITH a heavy political-unrest plot going on as well, and despite the abundance of female characters none of them are well developed? And the main character is just a bland-ass dude? It really didn't sit well with me, and I do not want to read the sequel.

The Chestnut King - I'm glad to be done with this series reread. They're honesty just a perfectly middling MG fantasy series, slightly dated but charmingly midwestern in many ways. Kids would probably enjoy it more, but there's not much for an older reader.

A Short Walk Through a Wide World - going in I knew this was being pitched as sort of cozy, and being comp'd to Addie Larue (which I didn't like in execution). Fairly accurate on both counts tbh, and I thought the curse in this one worked much better - the problem with Addie was that the inability for anyone to remember her didn't allow for any connections to make things interesting, whereas A Short Walk's not being able to stay longer than a few days or ever return offers *just* enough to be heartbreaking. Unfortunately there just wasn't much of a shape to the overall story and I was so bored I almost DNF'd. If you're more into the books being marketed as "cozy fantasy" you might have a better time of it than me.

Fit for the Gods - aka "Greek Mythology Reimagined," which feels self explanatory. Anthologies are always a bit of a mixed bag, but I really liked this! Especially compared to the previous anthology (Sword Stone Table), there was only one story I didn't really like, but otherwise really vibed with everything else! I also learned that most of my myth knowledge that's stuck around is from Percy Jackson, lol. (Not to mention the reincarnation story that mentioned Percy Jackson! I cackled XD)

A Sorceress Comes to Call - LOVED!!! Regency house party, magic, murder, mystery is so so SO up my alley. I've seen people call this a stressful book, and I get it, the mother is awful and things are definitely tense, but something was telling me that things would turn out ok for the main characters and I was able to enjoy myself lol. It also helped that it became quickly obvious that the mother was very full of herself and overconfident, even if she was terrifying. I think this is tied with Thornhedge for my favorite Kingfisher so far, though I might rate this a little lower on quality. If you liked this I really recommend checking out the Greenwing & Dart series by Victoria Goddard!

True Grit - meh. Picked this up through a combination of podcast rec/book sale find/needed to read another classic. The kid's got spunk, but that's all I've really got to say. Came very close to dnf'ing, but at least it was short.

DNF

Ascension - 25%. I was really looking forward to making a "if I had a nickle for every book about a mountain mysteriously appearing somewhere it shouldn't, I'd have two nickles" joke, but alas. This started off pretty good, going with the classic "I found these papers among my brother's affects after a long mysterious life" that I was REALLY excited about. Then we actually got to the story and the main character was just Most Special Genius Science Boy, and the way his ex-wife was being written was absolutely bleh. I looked a bit closer at the reviews and decided to dump it. (Other mountain book is My Volcano and you should read it!!!! It's so weird!!)

Running Close to the Wind - 11%. Was this funny? Yes. Was this super horny? Yes. Was this funny and super horny? Super yes. I can really appreciate what was happening here, it's just unfortunately not a style I can consume in anything larger than small bites. I decided to part ways before my feelings really soured.

August Kitko and the Mechas from Space - 41%. I honestly did like what I read, it just wasn't speaking to me? I can see this being a great book for someone, I just had other things I wanted to read more.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Check In On Your Friends

(Story Post)

“Hej mine kære venner! Jeg kommer med gaver!”

Theo was lounging in bed when he heard the elf raucously burst into his apartment. He was tired, hungry, irritated, and now bigger than he could’ve imagined. The last thing he needed was noise, but he was a bit surprised to hear Korsy was back from his trip.

“What?” Theo groaned, turning over to try and sit up. His stomach stuck out like a torpedo now and sat between his legs, webbed with stretch marks and red from minor rashes.

Henderson let the elf into the room and Korsy beamed, carrying a shopping bag with him. “I said ‘Hello, my dear friends! I come bearing gifts!’”

“Ah…” Theo yawned and waved Henderson over. “Do I have any snacks left?”

Henderson was already prepared and brought him a plate of crackers and fruit. “I just got some groceries today.”

Theo received the plate delightedly while Henderson sat down beside him. “Merci… Ugh, what would I do without you…”

“Shit, dude. Can you even get up with that much baby?” Korsy commented, unable to fathom his friend’s shape.

“Not really…” Theo shrugged. “I’m officially on bed rest.”

“No kidding.” Korsy put his hands on his hips in bewilderment. “Shouldn’t you be on, like, hospital bed rest?”

Theo sighed. “That’s what the doctor’s office said, but now both my usual doctors are away for whatever reason, and there’s just this one doctor there now, who I’ve heard is a whack job, so I would rather stay home. Non, merci.”

“Ah, Dr Gardi’s not bad. But I see your point.” Korsy lifted his bag. “Anyway, souvenirs for you.”

“No way it’s been two months…” Theo said, checking his side table alarm clock for the date.

“No, we had to come back a little early, but I’m leaving again tomorrow morning,” Korsy said as he started rummaging through his bag. “Anyway, I can’t give you all the details, but I did go ‘home’ and I ‘borrowed’ a few things. Catch.”

Henderson jumped a little when a metal object was tossed to him. He caught it and realised it was a gold bracelet of some kind. “What’s this?”

“Sun elf bangle. Drow probably stole it. So, eh. Yours now.”

Henderson was shocked at first as the moment he slipped the bangle on, it adjusted to the size of his wrist. Worried it might be stuck, he pulled at it, but lit up seeing it resize again and slip off easily. “…Whoa. That’s incredible. Theo, look! It fits me so well!”

“It does,” Theo complimented. “It suits you.”

Henderson beamed. “Thanks, Korsy.”

“Don’t mention it. My uncle’s wife doesn’t need it anyway.” Korsy pulled something else from his bag, but this time handed it nicely to Theo. “For you.”

Korsy had handed him a little figure of an elven soldier carved in walnut with silver details. It carried a bow and looked noble. “That’s sweet, Korsy! Wow,” Theo said, admiring the figure. “Thanks.”

“Also, here.” Korsy handed them each something bundled in paper. “My aunt made these traditional elven buns.”

Theo put the figure down quickly so he could take the buns. “Oh, I can smell it already! I love fresh bread.”

“So, she’s you ‘aunt’ now?” Henderson questioned. “After calling her your uncle’s wife…”

“Different women, same uncle.” Korsy shrugged. “Divorce is weird… Karla’s still my aunt though, even if not by marriage.”

“So, why’d you have to come home early?” Theo asked before biting into his bun.

“That’s classified…” Korsy leaned against the bedroom door and sighed. “You guys should really consider some APID jobs. It’d be so much easier to talk to you about this kind of stuff if you have clearance.”

“Working on it,” Henderson said, and Theo nodded but he couldn’t speak through mouthfuls of bread. “Since you’re back briefly, have you checked in on your little…situationship?”

“It’s not a situationship. We’re just friends,” Korsy said. “And no, I don’t think I should bother him right now. I don’t have a lot of time anyway.”

“You made time for us,” Theo pointed out. “I thought you cared about this guy.”

“I don’t! I mean, I do, like friends,” Korsy tried to answer. “It’s just too complicated. He knows I’m away for two months, so he won’t be missing anything.”

Theo and Henderson both exchanged looks and frowned.

“You have feelings for him,” Henderson said.

Theo nodded along. “You like him.”

Korsy shook his head quickly. “Don’t make this something it’s not. I don’t like him like that. And I know he doesn’t see me that way.”

“Mmhm.” Henderson gave his gift bun to Theo and got up. “Korsy, are you looking for a romantic relationship?”

“No, I don’t do relationships,” Korsy said confidently.

“Why not? Are you aromantic?” Henderson asked.

“Ooh!” Theo got excited. “I’ve never known anyone aromantic before.”

“Guys, I’m not aromantic!” Korsy said. “I just don’t have time for that right now. My job is too important, and it doesn’t have room for settling down and having kids.”

“Aw, you want kids?” Theo cooed.

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Henderson pointed out.

“Wait, is this the same guy you had a pregnancy scare with?” Theo asked. “Oh, so that whole thing has you worried about your future and fatherhood and stuff. Je comprends.”

“You don’t comprends shit,” Korsy said.

Theo furrowed his brow and motioned to his heavily pregnant belly. “Je comprends.”

Henderson chuckled and wrapped his arms around Theo’s torso to rub his belly. He continued with Korsy’s dilemma. “Anyway, you say your job doesn’t have room for that, but I feel like you’re giving it too much credit. Does APID not provide time regular time off?”

Korsy sighed. “It does, but—”

“Does it not provide vacation time?” Henderson continued.

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Do you use your vacation time?”

“Um…” Korsy shrugged. “Here and there.”

Theo jumped in. “Does APID provide paternity leave and partner benefits?”

“Yes. It’s the government,” Korsy said. He motioned to them. “We have the same benefits. But I’m away all the time for months, and I am often putting myself in harms way. I don’t need to subject a partner to that.”

“You know there are people who are comfortable with that, right?” Henderson reminded. “You know, military spouses and such.”

“That’s their choice, but it’s not what I would want for a partner,” Korsy said. “I’m not ready to put that on someone.”

“But it sounds like you do want that at some point,” Theo said. “If not now.”

“It’s not something I can want, okay?” Korsy was starting to get worked up. “Can we move on from this? Please, I just wanted to drop off gifts and hang out a little bit.”

Theo sighed. “Okay. Do you want to play some games or something? I just got Baldur’s Gate 3.”

Korsy frowned. “The D&D video game?”

“Yeah. You wanna make a character or something?”

Korsy rolled his eyes. “And be what, a drow elf rogue?”

Henderson shrugged. “You don’t have to be.”

Korsy opened his arms. “You know how I feel about D&D.”

“Ah, right, sorry…” Theo tilted his head. “So… You wanna play Tears of the Kingdom or Mortal Kombat or someth—”

Korsy crossed his arms. “No, let’s play Baldur’s Gate I guess.”

Theo grinned. “Really? You won't be offended?”

Korsy shrugged and found himself a seat on the edge of the bed. “Well, I have to try it out to see how bad the representation is, don't I? And, is that a PS5? I haven't tried one yet.”

“Oh, you definitely have to try it,” Henderson encouraged.

“Yeah, here.” Theo tapped his side table. “My controllers are in the drawer.”

Korsy retrieved a controller. “Alright, nice. So, are drow good or bad?”

“Eh, it depends.”

“Hm. Alright, so how do I make a drow rogue?”

“We said you don't have to be a drow rogue...”

“I want to.”

“D’accord, d’accord…”

[Disclaimer: This author does not know Danish. If you do and this is bad, lemme know! I'd love to fix it. I do know French, but if somehow that's fucked too, lemme know.]

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

AITA Tag Game

I was tagged by @the-inkwell-variable and I guess I DID find enough motivation to do a new one! It's not a poll, though, because this was more fun.

I'm tagging, if you feel like doing it (no need to go overboard like I did 😅) @winterandwords and perhaps @sarandipitywrites and as always an open tag.

RULES: Make an Am I the Asshole post for an OC!

Well, this OC is Laurent, from Sweet Little Lies.

Transcript under the cut

Two screenshots, showing fake posts on the subreddit Am I The Asshole. The first screenshot is the OP, written by the user Hot-As-Fire-6521518. He asks:

AITA for lying about candy?

(All names changed to keep things anonymous.)

About two weeks ago, I [M 42] saw my ex on the street, so I hopped into the closest store to avoid an awkward confrontation. It was a candy store. I really don't like candy, but I had to kill a bit of time, so I struck up conversation with the shop owner - let's call her Burelia. I kid you not when I say Burelia stole my heart he moment I laid eyes on her. She's funny, she's beautiful, she's smart, she's everything I could ever want in a woman.

There's only so much time one can spend on complimenting the decorations, so I made up a story about a friend's niece [F 20 or so. Idk she's a kid. She's also not really his niece, but whatever.] and claimed I was looking for a gift for her. I spent the next couple of hours trying out various candies, and though I hated most of them, it was the most wonderful afternoon I have had in a long time.

One of the candies I eventually bought were cherry flavored, and my friend's niece (let's call her Nerridy) absolutely loves them. Two days later, Nerridy already asked me if I could get her more. Now here's where I messed up: I told her they are out of stock, and I told Burelia that she didn't like any of the ones I brought and I would have to try out more.

It's been like two weeks now, and I tried at least 30 different kinds of candies. I use the excuse that Nerridy hated all of them and I want to find something she likes to return a couple of times a week. Burelia and I have started to eat lunch together, and I think she might like me, too, but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

Now It's almost midnight, I'm stuck at work (because I spend all day hanging out in the candy store), and our night guard [NB ??? - let's call them Drystal] challenged me to post this to find out if I am the asshole. Drystal claims it's rude of me to basically tell Burelia that all her candy sucks, that I am wasting her time, and that I should put on my big boy pants and ask her out already.

I don't think it's a problem; The only one suffering is me (I really do not like candy), Burelia seems to enjoy my company, and all my friends get free stuff - including Drystal, who is watching me type this while eating the apricot drops I gave them.

So, am I the asshole?

The second screenshot shows the top comments.

The collapsed auto mod comment by Judgement_Bot_AITA.

User ThrowRA-DivorceCollector-555: Dude, Burelia knows 😂😂 (two laughing emojis) NAH but Drystal is right, ask her out already

User PinkThermalPaper: INFO: Are you paying for the candy? Edit: NTA

With the reply by OP: Of course I am.

User ThrowRA-SweetestTooth: YTA, who the fuck doesn't like candy

User OldShoe_: YTA to yourself if you don't talk to her man

The post and all replies have 13-50 upvotes. There is no verdict yet.

End Transcript.

[lorre-logic]

If you could time travel and spend one day with Peter Lorre what would you want to do? 🤔

Time travel??? With my skin color??😭😭😭

I don't think that'll go well at aaaaall. Not because I think Peter Lorre would have any kind of prejudice (I actually heard many lovely stories about him and with people of color) however I feel like there's nothing fun I could do with him in whatever decade I'd time travel to. It just would be limited. If that wasn't an issue then I'd love to go on a shopping spree with him and yap about all kinds of nonsense as we pick out outfits.

Instead I'm going to suggest a different scenario. Lorre time travels to this time period and hang out with him. Mainly because I just wanna make him gawk at modern things.

As much as I said I'd love to traumatize him with the Ren and Stimpy Adult Party Cartoon, I actually wouldn't do it. I don't want to send him back to the grave twice. Though the desire for it is still there. I also would avoid telling him about his sad fate. He deserves to have a good time.

I'd just want to let him know that he's still very liked and show him what the current gen of Lorre fans are doing with the interwebz. He deserves to know that people are still being introduced to him and fall in love with his movies to this day. Also of course infodump about the lore of Lorre caricatures because I have no self control and I MUST share about the cartoon fish that had rotted my brain for the past 3 years and make him watch the Slappy's solo episode Slappy Daze.

Also show him all of the other Lorre caricatures but I'm picking the ones I think won't traumatize him. So obviously no adult party cartoon, and no strip club lorre caricature. Also gift him a copy of The Animated Peter Lorre, Slappy's character sheet, and various other things. Perhaps customize a tweety bird plush to make it that Tweety Ugarte from Carrotblanca. Maaaybe gift him some antibiotics too for his chronic lung infection and warn him about cigarettes and about the dude who squandered his money (gotta change space and time so I can get a few more years of Lorre movies ya kno)

Tbh that aside, I'm not sure exactly what else I'd lik to share with him? I'm not that talkative irl so I'd feel like I'd get overwhelmed and forget anything I'd want to say. I think I'd just die happy if I got to shake his hand tbh. I'd need another lorre stan to be there for emotional support and probably do most of the talking for me. I'd have more fun listening in and studying him like a specimen from afar. I need hair samples for...scientific purposes <3333

[onmyyan]

Can you please make more Marco's headcanons like I bet he has a weapon collection

TW'S: YANDERE THEMES, MURDER MENTION, BONES AS A GIFT, MARCOS IS A WARNING HIMSELF LMAO (NOT EDITED)

S'more Marcos Hc's

Absolutely has a weapons collection and he names every single one he gets his grubby little hands on.

His guns are all custom made and he has this set of neon throwing knives, razor sharp and deadly.

His creepy little warehouse is a lot less creepy on the inside, posters of his favorite movies and bands litter the walls, sure their spattered with blood but I digress, the training dummies have spray painted smiley faces and when he gets bored he likes to see just how many knives can fit in one face.

He's the best at killing and it shows, has gotten paid to kill twice now and loved it.

And with both of those phat checks he was able to spend time doing his favorite thing, doting on you.

Once bought one of those really cool looking swords from this sketchy shop downtown and tried to decapitate a guy with it but when he brought the weapon down on the poor dudes neck it breaks like a Lego set and they just stand there in this painfully awkward silence.

He of course has to shoot him so no one ever hears of his embarrassment.

Has a few gnarly scars on his legs from his early skateboarding days, if Manny bet him he couldn't grind down their highschools 25ft stair railing he absolutely does it, even though he'd only just got the board that morning.

Had a kill bill phase where he kept trynna pluck people's eyes out like Uma Thurman did the blonde shawty in the trailer.

He the type to silently sway with you in the kitchen at some ungodly hour, his hand on your hips, humming a song he doesn't know the lyrics to.

Stops mid sentence a lot just cuz he can't wrap his head around someone as incredible as you being his.

The biggest, goofiest smile on his face let's you know he's lost in lala land and hasn't heard the last 30 seconds of your conversation

But you find it hard to be mad when he's drawing hearts into your skin and staring into your eyes with so much love it catches you off guard.

Wants matching tattoos but the idea of someone getting that close to you makes his skin itch so that won't happen until he can do it himself.

Him and Manny have weekly hang outs where they each dish and gossip about their individual darlings.

His twin is the only other man he'd trust you to be alone with, and it's not a lack of faith in you, so much as it is a lack of faith in the rest of the world.

His older brothers are no exception to this rule, the rare times you do meet with them Marcos keeps it short and sweet, and he never leaves your side.

If you're a morbid little gremlin like he is, he will absolutely gift you the bones of his latest kill (after a deep cleaning ofc) he tells you they're just super realistic replicas 👀 and you have no idea it's the scumbag who hit on you a few weeks ago, nothing too serious just a finger bone or piece of skull.

Wants to get married yesterday, likes dropping subtle hints like,

"hm our ring fingers looks kinda empty👀" or

"Just hypothetically - like totally not serious but between these two venues which one screams happily ever after? 👀"

As much as his playboy past would lead you to believe he's the noncommittal type, you are his heart and soul, and he'd rather gut himself in a dirty street gutter then be with anyone but you.

The second he realizes he loves you he's got it in his mind that you're endgame, he will be your loving husband and you will be buried together.

Sends you those deep-fried semi scary memes and TikTok's when it's 3AM and he knows you aren't sleep.

He knows because he cloned your phone and can constantly see what you're doing.

Reads romance novels for ideas on how to well, romance you, because he heard you mention once that you loved how they portray love in the stories.

Sprays your perfume in the room when you're at school/work/away from him long enough and it helps to quell his possessiveness

Just barely though because you mention lunch and whoop look who's showing up, food in hand and mentally manifesting you say fuck it and just go home with him.

Sometimes he has these night terrors where you're just gone and he wakes up crying, chest heaving from the heavy pit that had formed, and god forbid you're not in bed when he wakes up because he needs to be held, needs to lay his ear on your chest and hear you're still there, still with him.

Tries to make you breakfast in bed once and gives you both food poisoning but on the bright side you stay in bed beside him all day and he finds all the running back and forth to the bathroom totally worth it.

You throw on one of his shirts in a hurry one morning and he is transfixed, talking absolutely gobsmacked by how tantalizing you look when you're completely surrounded by him.

Low-key sabotages your wardrobe by hiding your shirts when he knows you're in a rush just so have to wear something of his.

"Sorry baby, no clue where that pesky shirt ran off to buuut I just so happen to have this here wonderfully made Versace button up of mine that really makes your eyes pop :) how lucky is that huh?"

Sprays it with cologne the night before so if any mf gets too close they smell him.

Can't say no to you, like at all.

Type of mf to throw his stupidly expensive jacket on the floor so you don't have to step in a puddle because he seen it in a movie once. (You could have just avoided the puddle but he looked so proud of himself as he held your hand to jump over it you had to indulge him)

Horny drunk but also a super lovey dovey drunk.

Loves taking you to concert's, especially when his favorite metal bands are playing, being surrounded by the music he loves is only enhanced when he looks down and sees you enjoying it too.

Talks in his sleep, 50% of the time its terrifying, nonsensical, ramblings but the other half is all about you, even when he's unconscious, you're on his mind.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Not Another Love Song by Julie Soto

4.5/5. Releases 7/17/2024.

Heat Index: 8/10

Vibes: rivals to lovers, celebrity classical musicians (?), "I wanna fuck you so bad it makes me look stupid"

Gwen Jackson is a naturally gifted violinist, having been taught by shop owner Mabel. Graduating from playing for tips on the subway to being offered first chair in the Manhattan Pops orchestra means fulfilling a dream. Not so happy about it is cello player and musical prodigy Xander Thorne--who happens to be a member of a band Gwen was (is) a fan of. But she's a fan no longer, sensing Xander's resentment... and something else. As the two are inevitably drawn to each other's talent--among other things--they have to figure out whether their blossoming relationship is more important than their long term goals.

OOOOH, this one hit. As someone who doesn't know much about classical music (honestly, a big question of mine was: is the fandom around famous classical musicians this intense? Like, I believe that it is, I've just never experienced it) I was sucked in by the passion in the story and the way Julie Soto seamlessly blended Gwen and Xander's obsession with music into their growing fixation on each other. There's a delicious tension in the first half of the book, flitting between anger and irritation and kinship and desire. And once it bubbles over... whew.

I really enjoyed Forget Me Not. Not Another Love Song has made me a fan. I'm ready for whatever Julie Soto writes next, because this is what I want from a contemporary romance: a sense of reality heightened by drama (and angst), high heat, and FURIOUS passion. This is a good time.

Quick Takes:

--Dude. I may not be very knowledgeable about classical music, but I do know that it should be properly utilized as a Sexy Device in romance novels. (And to be real? In fiction, as a general rule.) This book may utilize classical music in the sexiest way possible. Like, often when I read early reviews going "the X scene!!! omg omg!!" I kind of expect to be let down. Not because the scenes are bad, but because they're so hyped.

The cello scene? In this novel? Lives up to the hype. Like, more on that later, but... It's not just about the physical things that happened when Gwen and Xander play. It's also about their focus one each other when they're supposed to be playing, the way she in particular drives him to distraction. I will say--the rivalry stuff lasts longer than the true resentment. It becomes pretty clear, pretty quickly that Gwen doesn't really hate Xander. And that Xander wants to fuck Gwen's brains out.

But uh, I was not upset about that development. I feel like a lot of authors try to pull off "seething sexual tension" and fail. This was an absolute win. I know in my heart that if I saw these two playing in real life, she would be desperately trying to pretend she didn't notice him; and he would be playing his ass off while ROCK. HARD.

--All that aside, I also think that this actually feels like two people in their early to mid twenties falling in love? Like, the finances are probably off, but you kind of have to handwave some capitalist hellscape stuff to set a contemporary romance novel in a big city in this day and age... But the way they act, the mistakes they make, the exuberance they both have for falling in love, the DUMB HORNY moments... it all read right to me.

I also appreciate that Xander, for all that he is a hot and talented dude by whom Gwen is intimidated at first (until she isn't) and with whom she is infatuated, still strikes me as a dude. Like, he's gifted and he's deep and he has mommy issues like crazy and manipulative entities in his life. But a lot of how he reacts to things--it may not be rational, but it is human, especially for someone who's really still figuring his life out. He's a mess! And that's okay! Sometimes he and Gwen don't make the right decisions in their relationship, but that doesn't mean the relationship is broken beyond repair.

--There's some really juicy familial and professional drama beyond the romance, and one thing I loved is that there isn't a clear "good side" or "bad side". Some people have their shitty moments because to be human is to be intermittently shitty, but not inherently, wholly bad; some people just choose to be shitty all the time, and they aren't on designated sides. There isn't a single perfect option when the choices are presented to our leads.

There's a lot of gray, basically. And I like living in the gray of a book.

--Julie Soto is setting up her own universe, and I'm seeing the places these characters could go. It's not just about setting up future books, though; it's also about creating a community for her leads.

The Sex:

UGH. This book was hot. Like, it's honestly a relief when I read a contemporary romance novel that's this sexy. Yes, there is the cello scene, and much "then I will sit here, consumed with lust until for the rest of the evening". But there is a lot more. I feel like this is one of the hotter tradpub contemporaries I've read in a while. They're all over each other, they're vocal, there is a scene in which things are done while people are on the phone...

I'll definitely be rereading some of those scenes.

In conclusion, Not Another Love Song is fun, swoonworthy, and passionate. It's exactly what you want an author's second novel to be--topping the first, while maintaining all the things you loved about it. I'm so excited to see what Julie does next.

Thanks to Netgalley and Forever for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[deadend-if]

Okay look,, this was a lot longer than I planned it to be,, it was supposed to be half the length it is now, but oh well 💪😔

Anyway, I said I would post it today so here it is, the first of (possibly) many short stories. 💥💥

Santi's apprenticeship short story (under the cut)

There's nothing wrong with being a little early. Making a good impression on their mentor is more important than any discomfort from the blazing sun and honking cars. June Ko was someone Santi had been following for years, this is a dream come true. Her art style was something they always admired. The tattoos she creates move flawlessly with every curve and ridge of the body. They're bold, sharp, and elegant in a way Santi can only hope to recreate one day. The only reason they're not as nervous as they probably should be is, well, they've met her before. Evidence of their meeting is permanently etched on their body. They instinctively trace the dancing swirl of black and grey smoke that wraps around their body from shoulder blade to forearm. It weaves around a wilting bouquet of butterfly jasmine on their bicep. It cost them a pretty penny, but they don't regret a single cent.

This meeting was their first step into finally doing what they've been wanting to do for years. Even during their college years, art was the only thing on their mind. Now, after too long, they can finally prove that their fine arts minor wasn't pointless.

Santi checks their watch, sleek with brown leather and black accents. It was a graduation gift from their grandfather and about the same price as one month's rent. Santi pulled at the earrings on their left earlobe. Guilt prickles down their shoulders as they picture his disappointment, ceaseless in its haunting. He expected more, but what else was there to give?

A shout breaks their train of thought, whipping their head around at the sound of a slamming car door.

“Is that you, Vega? You're way early, dude.”

Oh, shit. Was that not right? Santi blanked for a second, thinking up a response as June leisurely made her way over. Strike one. They didn't think 10:45 was that early.

“Nothin’ better to do. Just thought I'd get a head start,” they finally respond after what feels like an eternity of June twirling her keys on her finger. They check their watch again as their new mentor unlocks the door. It's only been a minute. This day is far from over.

A bell jingles on their way in, and the first thing June does is flip on the lights. They flicker before settling into a bright, sterile white, illuminating the concrete floor and exposed brick walls. The shop is sectioned off with half-walls just past the front desk. Checkered tiles cause Santi’s boots to echo in the open space and they stand for a moment, taking it all in. They’ve been to a handful of different tattoo shops. It never gets old to see frames upon frames of art and knick-knacks stacked over the walls. The old-fashioned feel of Velvet Ink has got to be one of their favorites.

“Did you bring your portfolio? Tell me what you've been up to since we last talked.” June doesn't waste any time weaving through the lounge, grabbing a single folding chair leaning on the side of the wall beside the red leather couch. She doesn't need to look back to see if Santi is following, they trail after her like a lost puppy.

“I got it right here-” they lift their shoulder bag in emphasis, “I've been practicing on fake skin since we spoke, I have a few I wanted to show you, but they're nothing huge.”

“Wow, you're on that shit, huh? Sounds about right, knowing you.” June chuckles as she sifts through her desk. She swipes a few things into a drawer, making space for Santi's portfolio.

“Okay, hand it over. Let's see what you've added.”

“It's not that much-”

“I didn't ask how much it was, kid, I asked you to hand it over,” she retorts, tapping the table. Santi sits down in the folding chair June dragged over and begins to sift through their bag. They feel a twinge of annoyance, smothered by embarrassment. They haven't been called kid in a long time, but seeing the peppering of grey in her long black hair makes them feel a little less patronized.

Instead of responding, Santi dropped the binder on June's desk. They dug around for a few of the fake skin sheets. When they pulled it out, June took it, her thumb tracing a circle to feel the texture. She huffed in amusement but didn’t comment. It's not like they bought the expensive stuff, just a cheap machine kit, black ink, and a few sheets of fake skin. They learned only to buy the nice stuff once they could actually draw a line without ripping through the material. Having a heavy hand while sketching never bothered them, but it's a nightmare when tattooing.

“Looks good for a first attempt,” she said, breaking the silence of the empty shop. June traced a finger down some of the darker portions. She admires the piece depicting an animal skull, a bear, being carefully cracked down the middle by human fingers on either side.

“You need to be lighter in some places, but your art is beautiful. You have a real understanding of technique, but it won't transfer to the body the way you're thinking it will.”

That's high praise coming from someone as skilled as June, Santi gives her a weak smile as they tug their tongue piercing with their teeth. They spend another half an hour discussing their art with June and getting a very short lesson on how to use the transfer paper printers in the shop.

The bell rings in the front as two people walk in, nudging each other and laughing up a storm. Santi sits up straighter to get a better look. It then clicks that they both work here, their profiles are on Velvet Ink's website. The both of them have unique styles from what they can remember.

The taller one with short, choppy blonde bangs, known as Sawyer, has a neo-traditional style. They use a lot of bright colors and bold lines, their style is something Santi has never considered having a tattoo of, but they couldn't help but attempt a few neo-traditional artworks after they spent almost an hour scrolling through their social media.

The other artist dabbles in many styles, but they're popular for their watercolor tattoos. Santi thinks idly that her multicolored pastel hair makes her look exactly as her art does. What was her name again? It was a flower, that's for sure. Lily, maybe? They can't remember.

June greets the both of them as they walk in, and they cheer her name in sync.

“June! Is that your new apprentice?” Sawyer asks, B-lining it over to them.

“Yeah, Sawyer, Iris, meet Santi-” June gets quickly interrupted by who they now know as Iris.

“Woah! That’s sick, can I see that?” She leans over the half-wall, pointing to the many sheets of artwork on June’s desk.

“You alright with that, kid?”

“Yeah, go for it, some of them are kind of old though,” Santi gathers a few of their favorite pieces in their clammy hands and passes them over to Iris, they can only hope she didn’t notice them shaking. Sawyer peaks their head over her shoulder to make their own assessment at the same time, reaching over and pointing out a few details. Santi can’t see them from where they sit, so they wait (im)patiently for them to finish their appraisals.

“Huh, you took classes, didn’t you?” Sawyer has their eyebrows raised, seemingly impressed by what they see.

“I got a minor in fine art, yeah.”

“I can tell, this is some good stuff, let me know if you need a canvas-” their striking green gaze pans to the torn-up fake skin, “actually, on second thought, I’ll wait a bit longer on that.”

“Ah, I’ve got a heavy hand,” Santi responds, sheepishly tugging on their septum piercing with a wide grin.

“That's fine! You’ll just need tougher clients,” Iris jokes with a wink.

“Don’t give them any ideas, Iris. It’s their first day,” June cuts in, fondly exasperated with her coworkers.

“Just because they’re new, doesn’t mean they get any special treatment. Isn’t that right, Sawyer?” For a moment, Sawyer stares off into the distance as Iris pats their forearm with a cheeky grin. They grow quiet when June doesn’t respond right away. She looks at the practice design from earlier, something soft smooths the crow’s feet around her eyes. There’s a flutter in Santi’s stomach, making a home right below their ribcage as June traces the lines for a second time.

“You’ll get used to it, Santi. I have no doubt you’ll fit right in,” June says, and Santi can’t help but agree.