#Best Golf Ball Retriever

[noimnotmae]

𝐌𝐈𝐗-𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏 — Lando Norris⁴

summary: After landing in Miami for his race, Lando carelessly places his bag next to an identical one as he rushes to the bathroom. And in a hurry, you mistakenly grab his bag, thinking it's yours. And during the next five days in Miami, everything took an unexpected turn, escalating into something far bigger than either of you had anticipated.

˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷ lando norris x female! reader 🔸

Ｐａｒｔ １

— "Oh no," the sound of your troubled voice alerted your best friend, who immediately went to your side asking, "What's wrong?" You rummaged through what you thought was your bag, only to find that the contents inside were not your belongings. You looked at your friend, panic evident in your eyes, and said, "This isn't my bag."

Your friend took a closer look at the bag. Due to all the rummaging, a single golf ball fell from it. "A golf ball?" you asked, confused, immediately running after the ball to catch it. After retrieving the ball, you walked back to where your friend stood and put the ball back inside the bag before zipping it close.

"Okay, where did you last place your actual bag?" your friend asked. "Over on that bench over there," you replied, pointing at the bench. "Alright, let's see if it's still there. If it's not, let's report it." You nodded as both of you went to the bench. Reaching the bench, you see that your bag was nowhere to be found.

"No, no, no, all my important stuff was in that bag!" Out of frustration you almost threw the bag in your hands, thankfully your friend was there to prevent that from happening. "Let's not take our anger out on the poor bag," she took the bag from you and rubbed circles on your back to calm you down. "Right, this is my fault anyways— I took the bag randomly."

"Let's go make a report, see if the airport does something about it," your friend suggests. "Alright," you say, trying to sound optimistic.

[texts]

[twitter]

[Instagram]

ynusername

Miami, Florida

liked by lhea_theitgirl, livduh and 503 others

ynusername posting aesthetic pics to cope with the loss 👜 💔 . . . more

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livduh Girl?

ynusername never visiting you again

liveduh Why're you blaming me??

lhea_theitgirl she's blaming everything and everyone at this point, even the bag.

livduh uncool

ynusername 😞

user1 pretty 🤩

user2 explanation for the caption?

ynusername lost my bag in the airport

lhea_theitgirl you mean you grabbed the wrong bag?

ynusername it's the same thing 🙄

user2 omg yn 😭

user3 absolutely stunning ✨

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[Irl]

As you waited at the bench, fidgeting nervously, your friend noticed as you stood up and headed back to the customer service desk, the wrong bag slung over your shoulder. You were growing impatient with each passing second.

At the desk, you accidentally slapped your hand on the counter. "Girl, calm down," your friend whispered. Her words went unheard as you began asking questions to the woman behind the desk counter.

Unbeknownst to you, a guy with a similar bag approached the desk. Your friend tried to get your attention, but you brushed her off. She watched as you and the guy made complaints about your bags.

"Is there any update on my bag?"

"I'm here to report a missing bag."

You turned to the man's voice and saw your bag in his hands. Both bags were identical.

"Anyways, as I was trying to say, I think I found your bag," your friend chuckled.

You glanced at the bag, then at the man, before taking a hesitant step forward. "Could I check if that's mine?" you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty. He met your gaze briefly before glancing at the bag you held. "In exchange, could I see if that one is mine?" you agreed with a nod.

As you both swapped bags, you wasted no time in going through the contents of the one you now held. A wave of relief washed over you as you spotted your wallet inside. With shaky laughter, you checked that everything else was intact. "Thank goodness!" you exclaimed.

"Is that yours?" the man's friend inquired. "Thankfully, yes," he breathed out in relief. After zipping the bag closed, the man turned to you, taking a step forward and extending his hand. "Thanks for not taking off with my bag." With a smile, you shook his hand, letting out a light chuckle. "I couldn't do that, especially when mine is with this bag's owner," you joked, eliciting a laugh from the man.

"YN, it's time to go. We need check into our hotel," your best friend whispered in your ear. You nodded in agreement, releasing the man's hand. "Thank you once again," you offered a slight bow to him and the woman at the front desk, expressing your apologies for the inconvenience. Sliding your bag over your shoulder and grabbing your suitcases, you made your way to the exit, waving goodbye to the stranger.

[Instagram]

ynusername

Miami, Florida

liked by livduh, lhea_theitgirl and 427 others

ynusername Got to our hotel 😍 . . . more

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livduh finally got your bag back i see. now get your asses here

ynusername gurl wait, we're getting ready!

lhea_theitgirl can't wait to go to the beach!

user4 omg, you're in Miami!

user5 my family's going to Miami tomorrow. I hope I'll get the chance to meet you 😍

[Twitter]

[Texts]

[Irl]

You locked your hotel room door and turned towards the way to the elevator, only to freeze when you spotted a familiar face down the hallway. Surprise painted both your expressions as recognition dawned.

The awkward silence stretched between you until he finally spoke up. "It's you again," he chuckled softly. You managed a sheepish smile. "What a coincidence," you replied.

His smile softened, and you couldn't help but notice how cute he looked when he smiled– well, cute overall, really. You mentally shook off the thought. "Yeah, who knew we'd end up at the same hotel," you said with a forced laugh.

Sensing your nervousness, he extended his hand. "I'm Lando, Lando Norris," he introduced himself, mirroring your airport encounter. You accepted his handshake, feeling your shoulders relax at the contact. "Nice to meet you, Lando," you replied.

Your phone buzzed in your other hand, interrupting the moment. Cursing softly, you released his hand. "I'm YN, and I have to go. See you later, Lando!" With that, you dashed off towards the elevator.

Lando watched you go, a smile lingering on his lips. What a day it had been.

Ｐａｒｔ ２ — Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

A/N : Wanted to write about my fav F1 Driver so here it is. Literally started writing this before the final race in Miami. Still can't believe Lando won his first ever race. Honestly, I have to constantly make sure I'm not dreaming, lmao.

Also, if anyone wants to be tagged for this series just let me know in the comments.

[juniefruit]

*.college bf jeongin.*

today I present: innie thoughts. Tomorrow? who knows.

Word count: 703

He would definitely follow you around at first, desperately wanting your attention. He would savor every interaction and be extremely energetic, like a puppy. His fluffy hair would bounce with each step as he practically shakes  with the amount of energy he has. He would definitely prod and poke at you if you don’t say something back for a while, as you’ve kind of just blurred him out as you walk to class. He’d ask questions like, “when’s your next class?” “where are you headed?” He annoyed you at times, but you could never stay agitated for too long, at least he was cute. I can imagine it’s a chilly fall day, scarved wrapped around your necks and swaying in the breeze. Orange leaves fall from the trees around you, which accented his copper-colored hair. When Jeongin asks if you want to get food together, you agree on one condition: he stops talking for the rest of the walk. He practically bursts with excitement, but his lips stay sealed. Finally some silence. Surprisingly, as you kept hanging out more, he toned down his energy since he finally got what he wanted. He worked up the courage to ask you out officially, and the rest is history. 

Total golden retriever energy!! His own preference is to go out on dates, or some kind of activity. Being with you, he’s beginning to understand that dates don’t always have to be over-the-top and energetic. Sometimes, just lounging on the couch watching netflix is just as special. He’s just grateful to spend time with you anywhere. 

He definitely gets you small presents all the time,  just things that ‘reminded him of you’, or sometimes it’s even a cool rock or pebble that caught his eye on the way to class. You keep all the rocks on a shelf in your room after you clean them. One however, stood out the most. Innie decided that he wanted to try the tiktok date trend where you try to find a rock that matches each other’s eye color. You two would look crazy, squatting down near the riverbank sifting through the rocks and pebbles. But you didn’t care, as long as it was with innie, you’d try anything he asked for. Perhaps it was because you loved his smile, and how his eyes creased with joy. His energy is infectious. He exclaims loudly when he picks up a golf-ball sized rock, and waddles across the uneven riverbank to hold it up to your face. “A perfect match!” Jeongin giggles afterwards. The silence that follows is comforting, as you stare fondly at eachother. His hand comes up to cup your jaw and press a delicate kiss to your lips. 

Jeongin is always there when your class is dismissed, waiting while leaning onto the closest wall. He has your schedule memorised, and when it’s not possible to sign up for the same classes, he will plan out what would work best so he still has time to see you between classes.

You two go on many cafe study dates, even if you end up just chatting for most of it. However, once you two decide to focus, Jeongin is so eager to help you memorize concepts by quizzing you and using flashcards. He always says you deserve a reward for working so hard. The reward? Millions of kisses to every inch of your face once you get back to your apartment.

While you’re studying, Innie wears his thin round-frame glasses. They make him look so ethereal, like he’s straight out of a designer magazine. You definitely snap some new pictures for your phone lockscreen. Which, you guys definitely have matching lockscreens, profile pics, everything. It’s so cute how enthusiastic Innie gets about choosing the right set of pictures. Or sometimes, you’ll go out with the sole purpose of taking new Instagram profile pictures. You’ll go through possible photoshoot locations, plan matching outfits, the whole deal. He is so dedicated to taking your pictures, like your own personal photographer.

Innie is always there to comfort you, because seasonal depression and schoolwork don’t mix well. It could be a gloomy winter day, but Jeongin acts as the light at the end of the tunnel.

read some more here~ masterlist

[dragonjesterwrites]

May I have some marriage headcanons with either Glam Chica and Roxanne and Mimi please?

Glamrock Chica and Roxanne Wolf marriage headcanons

Absolutely! Gonna do just the Glamrocks for now, I'll probably do Mimi in just a short bit 👌

Also lil sidenote, we're rounding out the Security Breach animatronic crew, only need Freddy and DJ now! (Here's the link to Monty and Bonnie + Sun and Moon marriage headcanons)

✨️🐔

Chica's been dreaming of her wedding ever since her first few months of activation- she was first introduced to the concept when two of the P&S techs got married, and they happily explained it to her during one of her initial weekly checkups

She keeps a scrapbook full of pictures she's cut and pasted together over the years; dress concepts, decor ideas, buffet spreads, etc. Once a week, she would sneak into the Daycare after hours, and Sun and Moon would help her with it, excitedly bouncing ideas off of each other and using as many craft supplies as they can get away with. She usually leaves with a few new pages full of colorful concepts.

Once one of you proposes, they surprise her with a handcrafted dress, her favorite one, looking like they pulled it straight out of the scrapbook. It's gorgeous, with embroidered vining flowers and streaks of vivid colors running up from the bottom.

The wedding itself is held on Music Man's dance floor, and they sneak in (with the DJ's permission) a full banquet table, laden with food for you, Chica, and any trusted human guests. The ceremony is held on the stage, with Music Man showering you both with flower petals after you kiss.

The reception is held on the dance floor, and everyone dances/sings karaoke into the night. Chica sings you a rock ballad she wrote herself, it's very romantic and very sweet (and absolutely bangin)

🐺🎸

Roxy's the complete opposite of Chica, she's never been bothered about weddings, but hey, if it's something you really want, then she'll help work something out- she's already the best at racing and keytar, how hard could planning a wedding be?

Anyway, after several fits of frustrated yelling and stomping about (why is finding good decor so hard in an entertainment center??) she enlists Moon's, Chica's, and Freddy's help. Moon, with his high security clearance, helps retrieve hard to find things such as rings and a copy of an officiant's script, Chica does much of the decorating and bakes the cake, and Freddy provides emotional support.

The engagement ring she picks out to propose to you with is one of the biggest/most colorful/unique ones, whichever sort she thinks you'd like best. Only the best for her boo 😤

Chica, Freddy, and Moon spend a lot of nights coaching her through her own proposal speech. She keeps getting nervous and going off script, and then they have to stop her from eating the script out of frustration.

Roxy's not a fan of formal clothing, or clothing in general for that matter, finding it claustrophobic and unnecessary. However, the thought of you in a dress/tux does make her circuits warm, and she wants to look good for you, too- so she gets Sun and Moon to make her a nice tux jacket and bowtie, and Chica combs her hair and tail for her so she looks just as perfect as you.

It takes a lot of time for her to decide on a venue: Daycare, too childish, the DJ's dance floor, too loud, Monty Golf, no way in hell- in the end, she personally clears out the excessive cones and barriers from Roxy Raceway, throws colored sheets over the tall barriers, and hangs a massive disco ball Moon borrowed from storage over the large area she pushes together. She rolls out some red carpet between the entrance, and strings lights over all the walls and dangling down through the gaps in the sheets she tied around the disco ball's cable- ending up with a massive tent, string lights illuminating the pastel colors of the sheets and making everything glow softly. She tries not to boast about it too much in the weeks after your wedding.

[idiotwithanipad]

The Return Of The Rat (Pt1)

Amy (My OC) finds out about a new guest at the hotel who has no right to come back, especially after what his past self had tried to do, and what he lied about. Along the way, discovering new, frightening things about herself.

TW: Mention of choking to death, Swearing

“He’s got no chance! D’you see the way he swung that Putter?” The head in Amy’s hands laughed. They had found a surprising amount of hilarity in watching the living visitors play golf on the green. Although, judging them would probably be the appropriate term for what they were doing. 

Only last week, the Tudor had made their bond official, and, with the aid of his only living friend, Alison Cooper, had asked for her help in signing an adoption certificate declaring the young girl his daughter in the noble name of Bone. 

But the plan had been lopsided; the girl had spent every moment of her afterlife in the company of the Tudor since her second week of death, and the separation leading up to the day of the adoption was difficult for the both of them. 

While Amy held nothing against her friends for claiming that they had no idea what had become of Humphrey the entire day before the adoption, she decided to distance herself from them for the following week, save for Humphrey and a special woodland dwelling friend of hers now put to slumber by the Waning Moon. 

They watched as the golf balls flew overhead and glistened in the sun, rolling through the manicured grass and coming to a halt. 

"See! I told you he wouldn't manage it!" Humphrey blurted. 

Amy stomped her four inch platform into the grass and growled, although she still held an amused smile on her face. 

"Fuck it!"

The head in Amy's hands chortled. Amy paced over the grass towards where the ball had landed. It had rolled only a few feet away from the hole. 

"That's close enough to be considered a win, come on! I called it! I said he'd get close! " She barked, waving her hand down at the hole, clutching Humphrey's head under her arm. 

"The rules are the rules, that's six points for me and two for you..." The head snided playfully. 

"Two and a half for how close the damn thing is!?" Amy bargained. 

"Nope" Humphrey said, emphasising the 'P'.

"Nah, c'mon!"

The head merely chuckled and waggled his brows. 

"Best of ten then?!" Amy hounded, regathering his head in both hands before her stomach so he could watch as the living player retrieved the ball. 

Humphrey hummed for a moment and flicked his eyes up. 

"... Alright, best of ten"

The whole morning the two had spent watching the golfers. Amy wasn't a sports fan, even when alive, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy placing silly bets on who would win or lose with the Tudor. The day had been hot, the sun had burned many skins and caused the elderly to retreat back inside. A trundling drone had distracted Amy, even through the constant clamp of hear headphones stuck forever over her ears. 

She turned away from the golfers and faced the driveway. A small gazebo was erected, and beneath it was a table containing some plastic cups and some sort of machine. One that Amy recognised all too well. 

"No way!" Amy gasped. 

"What?" Humphrey asked, trying to flick his eyes in the direction he assumed she looked. 

"It's a slush puppy machine!" Amy smiled, already taking Humphrey and heading over to the table. 

Sheltered beneath the gazebo offered an ample opportunity for them to read all the flavours listed. 

"What are these, then?" Humphrey asked, his brow furrowing in confusion at the churning tubs of coloured ice. 

Amy practically salivated. 

"I fucking loved these things! They're these drinks, you- I dunno, blend down ice in this syrup and it's the dog's bollocks!" Amy beamed, her eyes gazing at her favourite two flavours; Cherry and Sour Apple. 

Humphrey clicked his tongue and averted his eyes upwards towards Amy. Amy paused; remembering then that Humphrey wasn't entirely used most to her vulgar language. He could handle a few f bombs and such, but some words, such as the one she threw out just then made his metaphorical gut clench. 

" .. Sorry. It's just been ages since I've seen these things!" Amy sounded like she was holding back her excitement. Humphrey's eyes scanned the labels beneath the machine. 

"Strawberry, Blue Raspberry, Cherry, Sour Apple- ooh, lots of choices then?" He mused, his tongue flicking out to lick at his lip briefly. 

"Yeah, they're so good! Especially in summer, I guess that's why it's here. I heard on the TV that there's a heatwave" Amy said, matter-of-factly. Not that the weather had any effectiveness on the dead anymore. 

"I dunno about you, but if I could pick one, I'd have to go for the Strawberry" Humphrey said, raising his eyebrows at the churning tub of red bliss. 

Amy rose an eyebrow. 

"Really?" 

"Well, I recall trying a strawberry as a boy, I enjoyed them then. As for the others, I can't quite remember what Cherry tastes like, I don't remember Apples being sour and Blue Raspberry... Well that's just not factual" Humphrey said, his eyes bulging at the thought of somewhere in the world, a plantation of blue raspberries growing. 

Amy chuckled and swayed slightly in the shade of the gazebo, delighting in the artificial fruity scent that the drinks gave off. Humphrey perked up. 

"You could've made one out of those Monsters you like!" 

Amy straightened. 

"Funny enough, I actually tried that once. Didn't end well. When I blended it up, it got too fizzy and kinda- exploded on me... I managed to try some though, watered down Monster... Not great" Amy said, recalling the embarrassing memory. 

Humphrey remembered seeing a blender once; he thanked his lucky stars that they didn't exist back in his time, he just KNEW that they'd be used as a torture device. 

"You could have a Wine flavoured one?" Amy suggested, sounding like a child off in a fantasy land where anything came in every flavour possible. Humphrey smiled. 

"That would've been nice. Mostly only royalty had ice houses back in my time, so ice was a rarity unless it was the dead of winter or a special occasion. My father was lucky in that regard, really. He had one at Richmond"

The pair fluttered around the slushies for a while longer, Amy began introducing Humphrey to the combinations people would mix, and that only made him want to taste them more. They didn't even notice the new flurry of cars which pulled into the lot, or the passenger which stepped out of a car, who regarded the place with a sense of familiarity. A deep dread. A nagging sensation of... guilt? Fear? Like a moment of judgement was at hand. Like he had the nerve and the unmitigated gall to show his rat face here again. 

After tiring of the golfers and fawning over the cold drinks, Amy and Humphrey retired back inside as the clock struck six. Although the rest of their ghostly crew gathered in the Higham Suite every night for film club, Amy and Humphrey took refuge in the room where Amy had met her fizzy, caffeine choking demise. 

A permanently locked and shady room in the East Wing, the same room in which Fanny would reenact her own death every night. The room had been left unbookable after Amy's death; as far as the hotel staff and owners knew, Amy's was the first death to happen inside the walls during the time the hotel had been in business. They probably should've done more homework and put two and two together on who those old oil paintings where of and they they still remained. 

The room was still and quiet, save for the sound of the TV in the next room over. Amy sat herself cross legged on the bed, the sheets not moving an inch at the contact. Humphrey's head lie on it's side in front of her, his eyes flicking over to the door, keeping his eyes peeled for a certain someone or something. Amy's brow creased, a question she'd been wanting to ask all week finally breached the surface and came into the light. 

"Humphrey?" 

"Yeah, Poppet?" He said, eyes flicking back up to her. 

Amy stuffed her hands inside her front hoodie pocket and stared down at the untouched sheets. 

"You know the other day when I couldn't find you? The day you-" Amy shrugged and gave a half smile, nodding her head over to the bedside table where her adoption certificate sat in its frame where Alison had left it, after a little bargaining with the man at reception to allow her access to the room. 

Humphrey blinked and smiled back at the framed document. 

"Well- where you okay?" Amy asked. 

The question puzzled the Tudor. 

"Course I was. Well- I heard you cryin'  and I wanted to drop the idea all together and go show you I was alright" Humphrey spoke. 

"You weren't laughing at me or anything, where you?" Amy asked, blinking in shame for making such a fuss. 

"You 'avin' a laugh? I could barely take it! The only thing that stopped me was hearing Silver talking to you. She always makes things better" Humphrey assured, his brow creasing at the thought of Amy assuming he'd taken joy out of her torment. 

"I guess it worked out alright, though?" Amy smiled. She tried to suppress the powerful yawn that slipped between her lips, but Humphrey spotted it. 

"Come on, get some sleep, you haven't slept all week. I'll still be 'ere when you wake up, Poppet" Humphrey blinked. 

No matter how many times Amy protested and claimed that she wasn't tired, Humphrey could tell it was a bold faced lie. Amy finally conceded and carried Humphrey's head over to a soft armchair by the window, his frequent sleeping place. She placed him onto the soft cushion gently and trundled back over to the bed. As soon as she curled up on her side, pulled her hood over her head and nestled into the pillow, she was practically out like a light. 

For about an hour, Humphrey felt like he could drop off any moment as well, but a certain someone that he had been keeping himself awake for entered the room through the wall. They shuffled and bumbled blindly, their arms braced out ahead of them as if blindfolded, but their eyes did work; they were staring right at themself. 

Humphrey watched as his detached body approached the bed and took a seat on the edge by Amy's feet. It seemed to twist it's upper body towards the sleeping girl to 'look' at her. It's clumsy, searching hand carefully came up to feel around gently for Amy's head still tucked away beneath the hood. It came to a slow stop when it found it's target and stroked softly, before it reached behind itself and pulled the thick layers of it's cloak over her body like a blanket. 

Humphrey smiled and finally let his heavy eyes drift shut, secure in the knowledge that this was his sentient body's way of letting his adopted daughter know that they would both still be there when she awoke. 

[aim4birdiesltd]

Swinging Green: The Rise of Recycled Golf Balls

Recycled golf balls are becoming the eco-conscious golfer's best-kept secret, representing a sustainable and budget-friendly alternative to traditional golf balls. This innovative approach to golf equipment not only benefits the environment but also your game and wallet.

Recycled golf balls are essentially used balls that have been carefully retrieved, cleaned, and refurbished to meet nearly new performance standards. These balls are sorted into different grades, such as "Mint," "Near Mint," and "AAA," to ensure golfers receive balls in excellent condition.

The appeal of recycled golf balls is threefold: sustainability, affordability, and performance. By repurposing used balls, the golf industry significantly reduces the environmental impact associated with manufacturing new balls, including the use of resources and energy.

In terms of cost, recycled golf balls are a cost-effective choice for budget-conscious golfers. They provide access to high-quality balls at a fraction of the price of new ones. This affordability encourages more players to maintain a steady supply of golf balls, leading to less wastage and further contributing to sustainability.

Recycled golf balls are not mere compromises on quality. Many golfers attest to their impressive performance, making them a practical choice for both beginners and seasoned players. These balls have been restored to their original condition, ensuring consistent flight and distance.

Furthermore, the market for recycled golf balls has grown rapidly, with several reputable companies specialising in collecting, sorting, and selling these balls. These companies take pride in offering a wide selection of brands and models, allowing golfers to find the perfect ball for their game. In conclusion, recycled golf balls are a win-win solution for golfers and the environment. By choosing recycled golf balls, players can enjoy high-quality balls at a lower cost while also reducing their environmental footprint. This trend represents a more sustainable and accessible approach to enjoying the game of golf while promoting environmental responsibility on the fairway.

[horwathgolf]

Keeping the Fun Rolling: Essential Tips for Maintaining Your Miniature Golf Course

If you want to ensure your mini golf business remains open and thriving all year round, or at least during the busy seasons, you need systems for maintaining your miniature golf course. It is not enough to throw a couple of carpets near a hole and hope for the best.

Maintaining your miniature golf course doesn't have to be a chore. With the right team in place and plenty of time management, you can keep your visitors smiling and coming back for more. These tips include:

Landscaping & Turf:

The lush green carpet of your miniature golf course is the canvas for countless adventures. Maintaining your miniature golf course starts with keeping the landscaping and turf in tip-top shape. Regularly mow the grass to the perfect height, ensuring smooth putting surfaces. 

Trim those pesky bushes and shrubs that might dare to obstruct your players' winning shots. And don't forget to inspect and repair any damage to your charming flower beds.

Pond & Water Systems:

To maintain this aquatic wonderland, perform regular maintenance checks. Clean and treat the water to prevent the unwanted growth of algae or unpleasant odors. Keep those pumps, fountains, and waterfalls in top shape with timely repairs. 

Remember, a well-functioning water system guarantees an enchanting experience for your visitors, transporting them into a world of adventure.

Course Carpet Cleaning & Stain Removal:

A clean and pristine course carpet is essential for an enjoyable and visually appealing experience. Regularly vacuum the carpets, banishing any dirt or debris that dares to challenge the fun. Should a clumsy player leave a stain behind, swiftly tackle it with the right stain remover, restoring the carpet's splendor. 

For a truly revitalized appearance, consider periodic deep cleaning sessions by professionals who possess the secret formula to revive the vibrancy of your carpets. You want a visually appealing carpet that allows for reliable and consistent putting play.

Removing Balls from Water Elements:

Sometimes, adventurous golf balls take an unexpected dive into water elements. Ensure the game's flow by assigning diligent staff members to retrieve these wandering balls. Equip them with nets, rakes, and specialized tools to rescue the golf balls without causing harm to the water features. 

Establish a systematic process for collecting and cleaning the retrieved balls, readying them for reuse or replacement.

Vibrant Painting by Season:

As the seasons change, take the opportunity to refresh the colors of your obstacles, walls, and pathways. Regularly inspect these elements, banishing any signs of fading or peeling paint. Reimagine the course's appearance with each brush stroke, surprising and delighting your visitors. 

Vary the hues and themes, creating a visual symphony accompanying the thrilling adventure unfolding on your course.

Checking Sound System & Interactive Elements:

Regularly test the sound system, ensuring it immerses players in a world of excitement and anticipation. Take a moment to inspect the interactive elements, ensuring they operate flawlessly and safely. 

Promptly address any malfunctions, allowing players to enjoy the full experience of your course's fascinating features.

Conclusion

Maintaining your miniature golf course is the secret to keeping the fun rolling. If we can make one more suggestion, keep those public restrooms clean! You will experience way more positive reviews and return business with a clean space for guests to do their own business.

If you have any questions about properly maintaining your miniature golf course, be sure to reach out to our team at Horwath Miniature Golf Course. We have years of experience taking an empty space to a vibrant course for countless clients. Give us a call today, and let’s boost your mini golf haven.

[katakyu]

"The Alleyway"

OKAY SO i had another writing activity in my LA class where we had to write a short story in 2-3 days from three randomly generated words given to us. my friends and teacher ended up really liking it so i thought i'd post it here!!

┊❀┊Content warnings: horror themes, the ending might sound a bit gory/edgy (sorry in advance for that)

You could easily hear the soft laughter of a little boy leaving the house with his father. The boy was interested in golf and requested his father to teach him how to play. The two went out to the nearby field, perfect for golfing. The grass seemed to be recently trimmed, soft and clean. No mud or other natural obstacles would bother their small game of golf. 

“Father! The weather seems pleasantly nice today, does it not?” the boy beamed as his father was setting up the course. He was right, the wind was gentle and the skies were cloudy, making the atmosphere calm. His father had finished setting up the golf course, starting up a few warm-ups to get familiar with the feeling of the sport. Beginning their practice and games shortly after.

The soft morning had transitioned into the afternoon, the sun now shining brightly. The father had suggested going to a nearby restaurant to have a quick lunch, so the two packed up their gear and walked to the street next to the field. Their walk was peaceful. Birds softly chirping, the breeze gentle as they entered the bustling street. The boy held tight onto the bag filled with golf balls. With how crowded the area was, he bumped into someone, causing one of the golf balls to fall out of the bag, rolling down an alleyway. 

The boy handed the bag to his father, “I’ll go get it!” he exclaimed, running off to wherever it may have gone. Before his father could protest the idea, he just smiled at his enthusiastic child and patiently waited.

The boy’s eyes were glued to the ball as the darkness of the alley consumed him, his only guidance being the natural night vision the human eye had. The boy desperately tried to speed up to catch the ball, but it seemed to have rolled faster. As if there were a separate force pulling it farther into the dark alleyway. His frustration and confusion was immeasurable. At this point, the boy had felt like giving up. It was just a simple golf ball he couldn’t retrieve. There were still plenty of other usable golf balls that were in the bag with his father. 

The boy went from a running pace to jogging, slowing to a stop. As he was catching his breath, he couldn’t help but take in the environment he was in. Everything happened so quickly, he wasn’t able to notice just how eerie the alleyway felt. 

Where in the world am I.. he pondered upon this question, unable to accept that a simple alleyway could be so unsettling. The walls were mossy and parts of the brick in them were chipping away. It was quiet. A little too quiet. There was a faint scent of something putrid. If he had to put his best guess forward, perhaps it was a dead rotting animal, like a rat or so. All of what he felt triggered his mind, yelling at him to run away and go back to his father, in the warm sun. 

He let out a sigh, “It’s just an unclean alleyway. Nothing to be scared of.” Turning around, the sound of the golf ball bumping into something prompted him to look back. The golf ball finally stopped. It was in close proximity to the boy, he could easily lean forward and retrieve the ball. But was it a good choice to do so? The area he was in felt so narrow and almost claustrophobic. All he wanted to do was make a run for it, to get into some bright light again and feel the comfort of having people around him. Well I might as well get it now that I’m here. The boy would later find out that this single decision would be the most regretful.

As he reached to grab the golf ball, he felt something move. Something big. He might’ve not been the only one there. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine. He grabbed the ball quickly, desperately trying to run far away from the alley’s darkness. Everything and nothing at all ran through his mind. Safety.. I need to get to safety! Was the only comprehensible thought to cross his panicking mind. The little boy tripped, his arms scraping against the floor, small drops of blood trickling down. It was as if his legs had frozen mid-run, dropping the golf ball that was once in his grasp. He winced in the pain of falling straight onto the cold, hard ground. His head ached and his body felt weak. Something cold was wrapped upon one of his legs, digging into his skin. The boy dared not to open his eyes, in fear of what may be awaiting his gaze.

“Open your eyes..” A gruff and hoarse voice spoke to him, sounding almost distorted. Now, the boy was sure there was something, or someone, there with him. He tried his best to be strong, keeping his eyes shut, hoping the creature would go away if he played dead. Yet.. as much as he’d like to stay strong, tears couldn’t help but well up in his eyes, his obvious fear showing. For such a young child, he was definitely brave. How commendable.

The thing previously wrapped around the boy’s leg slowly removed itself from him. A wave of relief washed over him. The idea of being stuck there for any longer was something he couldn’t fathom. He mentally counted to 10, telling himself to run once he felt nothing around him after his count. 

7.... 8…. 9….  .. Once his mind struck the number ten, slowly, he opened his eyes. He heard nothing, an eerie silence. The boy hoisted himself up on his arms, the feeling of pain shooting to his leg. There was a big wound on his left leg, right where the creature grabbed him. Trying his best to be quiet, as if to not alert the previous horror, he glanced around, looking to know which direction to head in.

Turning to look behind him, a pair of pupiless eyes stared into his, a figure of the creature’s body was one thing he was able to make out in the dark. Another was the creature’s wide grin, faintly seen. “Father… help.. me..!” was all the boy managed to mutter out, tears now streaming down his face.

                                                              • • •

“On tonight’s local news, the police have received a mysterious report of a little boy, seemingly 11 years old, found dead in the back of an alleyway in ####. Witnesses say his skin was turned inside out. Detectives figured the boy was supposedly all alone during the unfortunate event. For legal reasons, we will not show any pictures or any further details. Remember, everyone, please keep safe at all times and don’t venture out in potentially dangerous areas alone.”

┊❀┊Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, dear viewer. (Also if anyone was interested, the three words i got were lane, cultivate, and golf)

[sacramentonewsjournal]

Florida golf phenom Chloe Kovelesky had a yr to recollect

WEST PALM BEACH, Florida – It’s important to be an incredible individual earlier than you is usually a nice champion, in response to 15-year-old golf prodigy Chloe Kovelesky. The Boca Raton native tries her finest to embody each elements of that motto, and by all accounts, she’s discovered success in each. It’s been a yr to recollect for Kovelesky. She overcame knee surgical procedure in March to interrupt a document at a neighborhood nation membership earlier than competing within the first LPGA occasion of her profession. Two and a half weeks after surgical procedure, Kovelesky was again to swinging a membership. 4 weeks after the operation, she was again on the course for an occasion – and after a fast turnaround, Kovelesky discovered herself ending the summer time with a very good buddy in a two-person, best-ball occasion on the Estero Nation Membership. “We have been going to exit and have a very good time and play some golf, and we have been paired with the defending champions Amilia [Williams] and Elle [Nachmann],” Kovelesky mentioned. “Elle and I are literally actually good associates as effectively. We simply had a extremely good time and I ended up taking part in actually, rather well on the primary day after which ended up breaking the course document capturing 64.” With teammate Gabriella Albert (St. Andrew’s), Kovelesky tallied eight birdies throughout a bogey-free first spherical en path to the record-breaking first-place efficiency. “There was one gap that I made a 20-footer for par, and that was the one time that I actually had an opportunity to make bogey,” she mentioned. “I had lots of birdie alternatives all through the day. I simply put myself in the entire appropriate locations, I assume you might say.” However that wasn’t the one noteworthy occasion of 2022 for Kovelesky. The Boca golfer not solely certified for the Portland Basic – her first LPGA occasion – however later positioned first (67) within the Les Schwab Portland Basic Novice Open. It’s a string of success that builds on her look within the 76th Girls’s U.S Open on the Olympic Membership final yr on the age of 14. “It’s grown over time, lots of my love for the sport,” she mentioned. “I received three world championships once I was actually younger and I simply all the time performed up in divisions. Over time, the whole lot form of fell into place.” Her {golfing} historical past began at a really younger age – simply 9 months previous, in actual fact. “I used to be on the retailer with my mother and I assume I picked up this set of plastic golf golf equipment. We had an artificial placing inexperienced in my yard as a result of my dad used to play golf. My canine retrieved golf balls. His identify was Charlie. I assume my love for the sport grew over time.” For now, it’s all in regards to the experiences, the fervour, and assembly her idols, each new and previous. “Each single certainly one of them was an enormous assist,” she mentioned. All the things you hear from everybody builds in your life.” Although her success has been plain at a younger age, Kovelesky has eyes for the current, slightly than the long run. “I’d wish to say that I wish to wait to see how the whole lot unfolds,” she mentioned when contemplating her future within the sport. For now, she is content material with having fun with the moments at hand. School golf: Listed below are 15 ladies’s freshmen to look at within the 2022-23 season View 13 objects Originally published at Sacramento News Journal

[grandlong]

The artful canine scottish plaid dog collar

What is the most suitable yaesu vx 6r quick reference for your needs? Here you will find everything you need. This Is What You Should Know Before Buying yaesu vx 6r quick reference These features are typically found in reels in a much higher price range, but we are making it affordable for everyone Unique & Innovative – The Carbon X is loaded with incredible features like our reinforced anti corrosion stainless steel main shaft and Zinc Alloy drive gear, direct drive screw-in aluminum handle, hollow nest shaped spool, smooth positive click drag, and high density EVA knob.These drag features offer you the ultimate experience whether you’re chasing your tournament kicker or spending a day with the kids on the lake Consistent & Powerful Drag - 3 premium oversized carbon washers give you a best in class up to 33lbs drag power and the sealed rubber ring protects your drag from being compromised by water and dust.Silky Smooth - You will be amazed at the incredible smoothness of the Carbon X, the 10+1 shielded stainless steel ball bearings are critical for increased smooth operation, retrieve performance and corrosion resistance.These 2 gear ratios are the perfect combination, the high speed retrieve helps every angler battle the strong, fast runs of the biggest fish and the moderate speed is perfect for finessing in your next trophy Multiple Retrieves - The Piscifun Carbon X spinning reels features a lightning fast 6.2:1 gear ratio as well as a buttery smooth 5.2:1 in our 1000 model.The Carbon X greatly reduces the fatigue placed on your wrist over a long day of chasing those trophy fish Feather Light - The Carbon X is meticulously crafted with an all carbon fiber body, rotor and side plate making it one of the lightest in its class, weighing in at a mere 5.7 oz.The Shirt Den Daddy's Pit Crew Racing Baby One Piece NB White Scottish Plaid Martingale Dog Collar, Large Dogs 35 - 60 lbs (Collar: 1" Wide, 13" - 20" Long) Sunwo Glass Shade Straight Cylinder Glass Lamp Shade Replacement with Multiple Effects(Bubble. Street Tennis Club Girls Tennis & Golf Tank and Skirt Set with Built in Shorts Sparkaling. Piscifun Carbon X Spinning Reels - Light to 5.7oz, 6.2:1 High Speed Gear Ratio, Carbon Frame and. Games Workshop Warhammer 40,000 Codex: Black Templars Parisbonbon Women's 100% Cashmere V-Neck Sweater Color Black Size 2X AEcreative USB Power Supply Travel Charger Cable for Yaesu Radio FT-2DR FT-70DR FT-270R FT1DR FT-25R.īundle - 3 Items - Includes Yaesu FT-4XR VHF UHF Dual Band 5W FM Handheld Transceiver with The New.Ĩ x 8 Inch Small DIY Scrapbook Photo Album with Cover Photo 80 Pages Hardcover Craft Paper Photo.

[batterypiner]

The artful canine scottish plaid dog collar

What is the most suitable yaesu vx 6r quick reference for your needs? Here you will find everything you need. This Is What You Should Know Before Buying yaesu vx 6r quick reference These features are typically found in reels in a much higher price range, but we are making it affordable for everyone Unique & Innovative – The Carbon X is loaded with incredible features like our reinforced anti corrosion stainless steel main shaft and Zinc Alloy drive gear, direct drive screw-in aluminum handle, hollow nest shaped spool, smooth positive click drag, and high density EVA knob.These drag features offer you the ultimate experience whether you’re chasing your tournament kicker or spending a day with the kids on the lake Consistent & Powerful Drag - 3 premium oversized carbon washers give you a best in class up to 33lbs drag power and the sealed rubber ring protects your drag from being compromised by water and dust.Silky Smooth - You will be amazed at the incredible smoothness of the Carbon X, the 10+1 shielded stainless steel ball bearings are critical for increased smooth operation, retrieve performance and corrosion resistance.These 2 gear ratios are the perfect combination, the high speed retrieve helps every angler battle the strong, fast runs of the biggest fish and the moderate speed is perfect for finessing in your next trophy Multiple Retrieves - The Piscifun Carbon X spinning reels features a lightning fast 6.2:1 gear ratio as well as a buttery smooth 5.2:1 in our 1000 model.The Carbon X greatly reduces the fatigue placed on your wrist over a long day of chasing those trophy fish Feather Light - The Carbon X is meticulously crafted with an all carbon fiber body, rotor and side plate making it one of the lightest in its class, weighing in at a mere 5.7 oz.The Shirt Den Daddy's Pit Crew Racing Baby One Piece NB White Scottish Plaid Martingale Dog Collar, Large Dogs 35 - 60 lbs (Collar: 1" Wide, 13" - 20" Long) Sunwo Glass Shade Straight Cylinder Glass Lamp Shade Replacement with Multiple Effects(Bubble. Street Tennis Club Girls Tennis & Golf Tank and Skirt Set with Built in Shorts Sparkaling. Piscifun Carbon X Spinning Reels - Light to 5.7oz, 6.2:1 High Speed Gear Ratio, Carbon Frame and. Games Workshop Warhammer 40,000 Codex: Black Templars Parisbonbon Women's 100% Cashmere V-Neck Sweater Color Black Size 2X AEcreative USB Power Supply Travel Charger Cable for Yaesu Radio FT-2DR FT-70DR FT-270R FT1DR FT-25R.īundle - 3 Items - Includes Yaesu FT-4XR VHF UHF Dual Band 5W FM Handheld Transceiver with The New.Ĩ x 8 Inch Small DIY Scrapbook Photo Album with Cover Photo 80 Pages Hardcover Craft Paper Photo.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just thinking about how loki will lose to his brother at golf or whatever sport they're playing and will take it out on me in the broom closet that would be lovely to be honest

Ya know, maybe a bitch is fucked in the head. I wrote a story about Applebees, so why not a match of squash?

Sore Loser

Warnings: nothing egregious, just Loki being a jealous man.

This is just for fun but always love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading and any feedback you have!

The brothers are far from amiable on their best days. The only true passion you’ve ever seen them show for each other is that of competition. The endless battle to one up the other, to shove the other’s nose in their achievements with an extra bit of spite.

You sense the resent roiling of the court as you watch through the windows. The steady thwack of the rubber ball as it bounces off the wall, the low grunts of the competitors forming a hammering rhythm.

As Thor goes high, Loki goes low, and you sip from the long neck of your insulate bottle, dreading the outcome. Whoever wins, you lose.

You’re almost tempted to go back to the courts above and swing a racquet with the old divorcees and griping wives of the older members. They talk more than they serve but it would give you an excuse. No, that wouldn’t do, he’s seen you and his brief acknowledgement draws the attention of his brother.

Loki winks at you and readies his serve. Thor’s eyes linger before slowly trailing to his brother. The former may be known as the trickster but the latter is hardly better. You’ve learned that thoroughly.

You kick a foot out and stick out a hip, crossing your arms as the sweat dries along the nape of your neck.

The loud collision of the ball against the wall jolts you but the serve isn’t returned and instead the rubber smacks the reinforced window. You step back and swallow as Loki drops his shoulders and turns to his brother. He gives a half shrug.

“What are you doing? Forfeiting is as good as a loss, brother,” he taunts.

“Your toe was on the line,” Thor says flatly and you step closer to hear through the clear barrier.

“It was not,” Loki scoffs, “you are ridiculous because you know it was a good serve.”

“Your toe touched,” Thor insists and points to his brother’s foot with his racket, “go again or I can take the point.”

Loki sighs as his nostrils flair. His lips thin, a familiar look, often aimed at his brother, dreaded when inspired by yourself. You chew your lip.

“Darling,” Loki breaks your shield as audience and pulls you into the action, “tell me, did I overstep the line?”

You blink and bite your cheek. Why hadn’t you been watching?

“S-sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” you say with a guilty smile, “I’m sure you didn’t–”

“Don’t try to have her bolster your lies,” Thor sniffs, “serve again, brother, or are you afraid I will trounce you.”

Loki huffs and rolls his eyes. He marches to retrieve the ball and as he stands straight, arches a brow at you. You should’ve lied.

“Fine,” he turns and sets his feet as Thor does the same.

Loki serves, the ball hits perfectly between the tin and the lower line. Thor returns it with equal zeal as the brothers move around each other. An elbow meets ribs but the ball stays in play, then the stomp of a toe, the jostling as both break the rules formerly disputed. Obstruction is the first sin of squash.

The dark-haired Odinson stretches to keep the ball aloft, bouncing it back with the tip of his racquet, but his perilous stance is toppled by a nudge from his opponent. Loki hits the floor hard as Thor slams the ball into the wall and it flies back without a response, rolling around the floor as silence rises thick in the air.

Loki says nothing of the underhanded move. Instead, he stands and grabs the ball as it nears his toe. He hands it over to his brother without a word and waits for him to serve. Thor cracks his neck with the tilt of his head and signals to switch sides before he gets into position.

“Match point,” Thor declares before he serves.

The returning volley is harsh and unrestrained from Loki. Their shoes squeak in a rally as they meet each other in stride. Back and forth, elbow, shoves, and stomps. You hate them and their stupid grudges.

You cringe as you watch Loki stumble over Thor’s foot and send the rubber ball above the tin. Out of bounds. 

“That’s my game,” Thor announces and gives a hearty laugh, “bested again, brother.”

“As I recall, I won the last,” Loki challenges.

“So you say but I can’t remember,” Thor chides, “good game.”

Thor holds out his hand and waits. It’s shaken stiffly with a snarl recitation of the sentiment. You blow out between your lips and force a smile.

Thor marches out and gives you a smirk. You shake your head at him as you near the door to the court, “did you have to do that?” 

“Have fun,” he snickers, eyes falling down your tennis dress. You put your hands on your hips and ignore the leer.

Loki takes his time before he emerges. You don’t know what to say, knowing whatever you come up with will likely piss him off. He returns his racquet and the ball and you cross to him. You place your hand on his arm, “I was thinking we could do dinner in the grotto. I reserved a private table–”

“You couldn’t have said I was in bounds, eh?” He turns on you, “always the sweet little one, hm? Always honest, or so you pretend.”

You swallow. You know not to argue. Not when he’s like this. Your husband can be as cruel to you as he is to his own brother. Thor has a way of getting under his skin and somehow that always spills over into your marriage.

“I’m sorry, I had a long match and I’m tired so… I wasn’t thinking,” you squeeze his arm, “please, don’t be mad. It’s a nice day–”

“Nice,” he hisses as he shrugs you off, instead grabbing your arm and wrenches your wrist up, “I don’t feel like being nice.”

He walks you backwards until you’re against the wall. You gulp as his other hand tickles the line of your throat. He shoves your hand down to his shorts and you tremble.

“Loki, someone could–”

“Court is booked until I sign off,” he snarls, “and I’ve not finished yet.”

You hold his gaze, green irises boring down into you. Your cheek twitches.

“Not here, why don’t we go find–”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” He sneers and squeezes your hand around his crotch, letting your wrist fall as he frames your neck with his fingers. 

“Loki,” you wince, “that… that was a misunderstanding–”

“I see the way he looks at you. Is he misunderstanding or have you not made it clear?”

“I have been clear with him, Loki, I swear. I’m your wife.”

“Then prove it,” he leads your hand up and slides it beneath his waistband, “be a good wife and I will be a good husband.”

[urfavemcustan]

Friendly Advice pt.2

Summary: after seeing no results from Rafe’s advice Topper receives another consultation. This time Rafe has an even crazier idea than last

masterlist

Topper tried out his new skills with little to no success. He was hopeful after his little lesson with Rafe but it seems it made no difference. Topper would never mention this to Rafe of course. 

A couple days after that night the two boys were finally able to go to their favorite spot, the golf course. 

“So did it work?” Rafe walked back to Topper after retrieving his ball. 

Though Topper planned on not saying anything, golf with rafe opened doors for intimate conversations. Topper always found himself saying things he wouldn’t dare to speak to anyone else

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” he put his head down, “the foreplay stuff worked but when it came to actual sex I just couldn’t satisfy her.”

“Well I know who can really be the judge of that.” Rafe looked over to y/n.

“What do you mean?”

“Have sex with her and we’ll see what she thinks.”

“Are you serious?” Topper could barely get his words out. He knew rafe was crazy but not this crazy. Would rafe really let that happen? Would y/n let that happen? What about Scarlett? A million questions flew around his mind.

“Why not? Clearly I would have no reason to be jealous of you.”

“Wow thanks,” Topper smiled sarcastically.

“And no advice I give you will amount to what she’ll say. You’d be getting direct feedback.”

“Seems like you really want this to happen.” Topper questioned.

Rafe only shrugged.

———————————

“Relax,” Rafe said as he sat in the corner.

“Yeah Top both Rafe and I want this to happen. This is up to you of course.” Y/n added.

“Ok,” Topper definitely wanted this to happen. He would never show his enthusiasm to rafe (since he didn’t have a death wish) but Topper always thought y/n was attractive. Why wouldn’t he want to sleep with her?

Actually, he would think of a couple reasons. Firstly his girlfriend probably wouldn’t he happy to hear what he’s up to no matter if he’s doing this with her I’m mind. Secondly, the very reason he’s doing this is because he lacks in bed. Y/n clearly has high expectations from her experience with rafe and Topper knew he couldn’t compare.

“Let’s see what you learned from last week.” Y/n laid down on the bed, “remember I’ll be evaluating you.” She jokingly made a serious face.

Topper came over and positioned himself on top of her. Y/n pulled him in for a kiss and they started passionately making out. Rafe scowled as he kept reminding himself this was his idea.Topper slid his hand down her body and stopped at her core. He slowly started making circles.

“Yep just like that,” she put her head back and put and arm on his shoulder.

“Let me cum Top,” she begged.

“Don’t you dare let her,” Rafe ordered from the corner of the room.

“Sorry y/n.” Topper shrugged unsure of who to listen to.

“That’s ok because you’re about to show me your skills in another area.” She smirked.

“Lay down for me,” y/n ordered and topper obeyed. Y/n straddled him directly above his face, “well?”

“Oh,” Topper grabbed her hips and brought her down so she was sitting on his face. He started swirling his tongue around and utilizing all the tricks Rafe taught him. Y/n subconsciously started bucking her hips in ecstasy moaning.

Rafe couldn’t help but touch himself. Seeing y/n like this was insanely hot to him. He made a note in his head to fuck her in front of a mirror so that she could see how gorgeous she looked.

Every move she made was mesmerizing. The way she flicked her hair back. They way her tits bounces as she picked up her pace. The glances she would steal at her boyfriend.

He could tell by how well he knew her girlfriend that she was getting close, “You only let her cum on your dick.” Rafe instructed.

Topper slowed down his pace not wanting to break Rafe’s rule.

“Fine then,” y/n responded to Rafe. She got up and moved down. Sitting on his hard dick.

Topper could never admit this but this is the best he’s ever felt in his life. Probably because just like Rafe, y/n had her own techniques. The way she rolled her hips onto him was heavenly.

Y/n looked Rafe directly in the eye and watched as he stroked himself, “Topper, Topper,” y/n moaned knowing she was pissing Rafe off.

“How is you riding him providing any advice?” Rafe asked, his jealousy seeping though, “Flip over.” He ordered.

They listened and changed positions not wanting to hear more of Rafe’s mouth. Topper immediately started jackhammering with no thought or rhythm.

“Woah woah woah,” y/n put her hand on his chest signaling him to stop, “I found our problem.”

[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

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

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

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

~ * ~

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

The trip had started out incredibly.

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

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

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

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

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

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

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

“Where’s (y/n)?”

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

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

~ * ~

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

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think I can.”

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

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

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

[thelastspeecher]

Here's an idea! It's one of the hottest summer days in Gravity Falls and Danny and Daisy leave to do some business at the golf course, taking a wagon full of supplies. Stan and Angie just assume they're off to collect golf balls. But when they go to bring them home for lunch, they find their daughters conning rich people out of their money selling expensive "homemade lemonade and cookies" to customers. Hiding the store packaging in a bag. Stan looks on with pride, while Angie is flabbergasted!

Sorry it took me a hot minute, but here it is! Hope it's to your specifications! And I'm now officially done with the prompts in my inbox!

———————————————————————————————————–

              The bell over the Gift Shop door jingled.  Without looking up from the money he was counting at the register, Stan spoke.

              “Gift Shop’s closed fer lunch.”

              “It ain’t closed fer yer wife now, is it?”  Stan looked up.  Angie stood in the doorway.  “If it is, we might have to have a chat or two ‘bout shared property.”

              “The Gift Shop’s never closed fer you,” Stan confirmed.  Angie stepped inside and let the door close behind her.

              “Good.”

              “I mean, you’ve got a key.”

              “Stan.”

              “Of course, if ya let me teach you how to pick a lock, ya wouldn’t need one.”

              “Stan.”  Angie rolled her eyes.  “Enough with the lock pickin’.  And don’t think I ain’t aware that you’ve already taught not just the girls, but the boys, too, how to do it.”

              “Who snitched?” Stan asked.  Angie crossed her arms.

              “No one.  I caught Emmett tryin’ to get into the gun safe.  I figured if ya taught him, ya had to teach the others, too.”  Angie sighed.  “I didn’t ground him, but I did tell him to spread word to his siblin’s that they’re not s’pposed to use those lock pickin’ skills to get around our house rules.”

              “It’s not like groundin’ would do anything,” Stan muttered under his breath.  He put the cash back into the register.  “Kid barely leaves the house.”  Angie walked over and punched his arm.  “Ow.”

              “Oh, pish posh, that didn’t hurt ya.”

              “Physically, no.  Emotionally…” Stan said slowly.  Angie snickered quietly.  Seizing the opportunity, Stan flung his arm across his face dramatically.  “Punched in my best arm by my own wife!  I don’t think I’ll ever recover!”  Angie’s snickering became full-on laughter.

              “Dork,” she said, once she was finished laughing.  Stan winked at her.

              “Yer dork.”

              “Yes, yes, yer my dork.”  Angie kissed Stan on the cheek.  “But seriously, try to be a bit more supportive of Emmett, okay?  I know he’s a bit odd and anxious, but he’s a good kid.  And he’s been tryin’ to be more outgoin’ lately.  Or did ya forget that he and Emory are out at another kid’s house?”

              “I know.  That’s why I had to put Soos on register this mornin’.”  Stan frowned.  “Where are the girls, again?”

              “The golf course.”

              “Why?  I thought we raised ‘em better than to spend time ‘round rich people,” Stan said.  Angie shrugged.

              “They’re collectin’ golf balls.  There’s good money in resellin’ ‘em if ya retrieve ‘em from sand traps ‘n ponds ‘n whatnot.”

              “Huh.”  Stan nodded slowly.  “Good.  I knew those two were smart.”

              “All the kids are smart.”  Angie checked her watch.  “Speakin’ of the girls, I figured we’d drop some lunch off fer ‘em.  Don’t want ‘em to use their hard-earned money on junk food or somethin’.”

              “It’s their money, they can spend it on what they want.”

              “We have perfectly fine food at home.  They shouldn’t spend money to buy ice cream from the lil shop across the street,” Angie said firmly.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “There’s an ice cream shop across the street from the golf course?”

              “Yes.”

              “Let’s get goin’.”  Stan grabbed his car keys.  Angie sighed.  “Ang, we’ve been over this.  I can be immature as long as I’m technically still more mature than the kids.”

              “I hate when ya nickel ‘n dime stuff like this,” Angie muttered.  Stan kissed her forehead.

              “Don’t act like yer not in the mood fer ice cream, too.”

              “…Maybe,” Angie conceded.  Stan waggled his eyebrows at her.  “All right, we can get ice cream.”

-----

              When the Stanleymobile turned onto the street the golf course was on, they immediately saw the line.

              “What the hell?” Stan muttered.  “Is golf really that popular here?”

              “Given how long we’ve lived in Gravity Falls, I think we’d know if golf was the most popular pastime fer folks,” Angie said.  “There’s got to be some other reason folks are lined up like that.”  She leaned forward.  “Looks like the crowd’s in the parkin’ lot.  Ya best park at the ice cream shop.”

              “Gladly.”  Stan turned into the ice cream shop’s parking lot, came to a stop, and turned off the car.  He looked at a poster on the outside of the shop, advertising a new flavor.  “They’ve got yer favorite flavor, Ang.”

              “Really?!”  Angie looked over.  She gasped.  “Places almost never have peaches ‘n cream!”

              “So we’re definitely stoppin’ after we give the girls their lunch?”

              “Oh, definitely,” Angie said firmly.  She and Stan got out of the car.  Angie grabbed the bag lunches before closing the passenger side door.  Stan looked across the street.  Now that they were closer, he could see the cause of the crowd.  There was some sort of stand set up in the parking lot.

              “What’s that stand sellin’ and where do I get some cheap?” he asked idly.  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “You sell more ‘n enough as is.”

              “We’ve got smart kids that need to go to college.”

              “Yes, and ‘cause they’re smart, they’ll get scholarships.  Like I did.”  Angie began to walk away.  “Or did ya forget?” she called over her shoulder.  Stan jogged briefly to catch up with her.

              “I know they’ll get scholarships, but you gotta be prepared for everything,” he said.  “The kids sometimes have issues in school.  What if they lose their scholarships over that?”

              “By the time college comes ‘round, they’ll be better equipped to handle what causes issues fer ‘em,” Angie said.

              “Yeah, but-”  Stan came to a sudden stop.  He’d heard a familiar voice.  He looked at Angie.  Judging by her expression, she’d heard the same thing.  “Are ya sure the girls wanted to come here to collect golf balls?”

              “They didn’t actually tell me what they were doin’.  I assumed.”

              “Ya know what they say about assumin’,” Stan muttered.  The familiar voice from before carried above the chatter of the crowd.

              “That’ll be five dollars, thank you, sir.”

              “They’re not collectin’ golf balls,” Angie said quietly.

            �� “Not unless somethin’ stole Daisy’s voice like when I got my face stolen that one time.”

              “Ugh.  Don’t remind me.”  Angie sighed.  “Should we get in line?”

              “What?  No!  We’re their parents.  That makes us VIPs,” Stan said firmly.  He grabbed Angie’s free hand and pulled her through the crowd, ignoring people scolding them for cutting ahead.  When they got to the stand, they could see it was surprisingly well-made.  A sign at the top read “D&D’s Homestyle Treats”.  And behind the stand stood their thirteen-year-old twin daughters, Danny and Daisy.

              “Uh-oh,” Danny mumbled quietly.  Daisy, however, grinned toothily.

              “Hi Ma!  Hi Dad!  Do you want some homemade stuff?” she asked.  Angie crossed her arms.

              “Homemade?”

              “Yep!”

              “I don’t recall ya makin’ lemonade ‘n cookies at home ‘fore ya left.”

              “You’re getting older, maybe you’re forgetting,” Daisy suggested.  Danny gasped.  She punched her twin’s shoulder.

              “Daisy don’t say somethin’ so rude!”

              “What?  It’s true.  Anyways, Ma and Dad, could we have this conversation a bit away from our customers?”

              “Smart,” Stan said with a nod.  He and Angie walked a few feet away.  Danny carefully placed a sign that said “Back in ten minutes” on the stand, then she and Daisy joined their parents.  “All right you two.  Spill.”

              “We’re just bein’ entrepreneurs like you raised us,” Danny said.  Angie frowned at her.  “What?”

              “Are ya actually sellin’ homemade goods?”

              “Uh, no,” Daisy said.  “They’re store-bought.”

              “Then why are ya claimin’ it’s homemade?”

              “There’s better money in it,” Daisy said simply.  Stan nodded again.

              “Smart,” he repeated.  Angie gave him a look.  “What?  It is!  I think we should be proud of the girls fer bein’ so savvy.”

              “I-”  Angie kneaded her forehead.  “I didn’t raise y’all to lie.”

              “Too bad,” Daisy said with a shrug.  “Dad did.”

              “We’re not completely lying,” Danny put in.  “There’s an asterisk on the sign after the word ‘homemade’ and if anyone asks we’ll tell ‘em the truth.  We’re also saying the asterisk out loud, but since asterisks don’t make sounds, they can’t hear it.”

              “Heh!”  Stan grabbed his daughters and gave them affectionate noogies.  “That’s my girl!  Havin’ a way out on a technicality!  I’m so proud of you two!”

              “It…is very clever,” Angie said slowly.  She sighed.  “Did yer Uncle Fidds help ya set up the stand?”

              “Yep!” Daisy chirped.

              “Where is he?”

              “The ice cream shop across the street.  Don’t worry, he’s been keepin’ an eye on us,” Danny said.  Angie nodded.

              “Good.  Good.  I’m fine with the two of ya doin’ things unsupervised, but even in Gravity Falls, I feel more comfortable knowin’ yer sellin’ stuff to strangers if’n ya have someone we trust nearby to watch ya.”

              “Especially in Gravity Falls,” Stan corrected his wife.  “Or did you forget when the gnomes tried to kidnap Danny?”  Danny shuddered.

              “Stupid weird little men,” she muttered.  Angie sighed again.

              “All right, all right.  I’ll let this slide.  You two can go back to makin’ money by lyin’.”

              “We did learn it from Dad,” Daisy pointed out.

              “That’s precisely why I’m lettin’ it slide.”  Angie smiled fondly.  “Ya best get back ‘fore yer customers get impatient.”  Stan let Danny and Daisy loose.  “First, take yer lunches.”  Angie handed over the lunch bags.  The girls quickly gave each parent a hug before scurrying back to their stand.  Stan looked at Angie.

              “Yer proud of ‘em.  I can tell.”

              “I can’t deny that you were right ‘bout this bein’ savvy behavior,” Angie said.  “Thinkin’ things through like this will help get ‘em far in life.”  Stan put his arm around Angie’s shoulders.

              “Yep.”  He grinned.  “So…ice cream?”

              “Yes.  Ice cream.”

[beatricethecat2]

(Happy B&W Gift Exchange Day @mfangeleeta!)

“You genuinely believe there’s a clue in there?” Helena says, eyeing the classified section in Myka’s hands.

“I think a middle-aged man might list something here. Claudia looked online and called used gear stores but nothing turned up.” “And this Edward Van Halen, is he of Dutch origins?”

“Probably. At some point. Why?”

“I met a Van Halen in Amsterdam, 1896,” Helena explains. “He was quite charming.”

“Maybe a relative, but that’s not important. We’re looking for a vacuum tube from the first amp Eddie used while touring.”

“I’m not terribly familiar with those terms.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then why are we here and not Claudia and Pete? This task seems better suited to them.”

“Pete’s sister’s birthday’s today, so he’s visiting with his mom. Claudia had some caretaker thing, but she’ll be here later. And we had to come anyway to get that golf ball you found.”

“Artie did seem fixated on that retrieval,” Helena says. “This Taylor Woods character’s mired in triumph and scandal.”

“Tiger Woods.”

“He’s named after a cat?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Based on his prolific sexual proclivities?”

“No, but maybe he thought he had to live up to it?”

“Fame is a fickle food. Hence, the item in question, signed and displayed prominently in a petrol station. Were that our only task, we’d be in and out in minutes.”

“Artie said, ‘Stay, have a vacation.’”

“Here?” Helena’s nose crinkles as she surveys the beach.

“It was definitely tongue-in-cheek. But people do vacation in Florida. Lots of them.”

“Predominantly the vainglorious.”

“You’re one to talk,” Myka snips.

“I haven’t a swimming costume such as that. Do you?” Helena nods and points with her eyes towards a woman clad in a string bikini.

“Never.”

“However…” Helena’s head tilts as she looks Myka up and down. “I would quite like to see you in one.”

“Not happening.”

“Even in private?”

“No.”

Helena pouts, putting on her very best “please” expression until Myka’s scowl softens around the edges.

“What about you? Would you wear something like that in public?” Myka asks.

“When in Rome, I may partake,” Helena says, watching the bikinied woman prance around to the delight of her male volleyball teammates. “But I’d rather patronize a nudist beach than endeavor in such posturing.”

“We are never, ever doing that.”

“Were it a private beach, would you consider it?”

“How private?”

“Just the two of us.” Helena’s eyes rake over Myka’s form.

“Stop imaging me naked!” Myka swats Helena with her paper.

“For now or for always? Because I quite often do.”

Myka frowns, but there’s a hint of a smile underneath. “Let’s find this artifact and get out of here.” She opens the paper to the classifieds again.

Helena scans the listings over Myka’s shoulder. “What about that?’” She points to an ad taking up several lines.

“'Vintage gear, crazy low prices,’” Myka reads aloud. “It’s worth checking out.”

A volleyball bounces to a stop in front of them. Helena bends down and picks it up. She hands it to the bikini-clad woman as she approaches.

“Thanks!” the young woman says. “Hey, you look like that chick from that movie. The video game one.”

“Aren’t they all based on video games now?” Myka quips.

“Comic books,” the woman corrects. “It’s a hot look, but unless you’re here to dig stuff up…” She nods towards Myka. “Her’s is better. But kinda frumpy.”

“Hey!” Myka yelps.

“Even hotter; a bandana top and some cut-offs,” the woman advises, looking Helena up and down. Male voices beckon, and the woman spins around.

“Gotta go.” She scurries off, calling out to her friends.

“'Hot,’” Helena huffs with a skeptical head wiggle.

“I think she was hitting on you.”

“She was not.”

“Was to.”

Helena looks towards the woman, now back in position on the court.

The woman waves.

Helena waves back feebly.

“What are you doing?” Myka smacks Helena with the newspaper again.

“Appreciating the gesture. She is a fine specimen of a woman.”

“What happened to 'vainglorious’?”

“Were you to don such a costume, I might say the same of you.”

“I see what you’re doing. Now it’s really never happening.”

“We shall see,” Helena counters.

“Let’s get out of here before I smack you again.”

Myka shoves Helena and she stumbles toward the parking lot.

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

The Adventures of Bering and Wells Season 2: Episode 8 Title: High Tides and Florida Vibes Summary: Myka and Helena set off on a new trajectory, retrieving treasures squirreled away by Helena in modern and Victorian times. Artie plies them with a secondary snag, causing Helena dismay, but Claudia’s arrival brightens spirits and saves the day.

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

“Must we stay for the entire performance?” Helena says, over the whine of yet another guitar solo.

“To get to that amp, we need to stay and act like fans,” Myka answers, clapping enthusiastically as the song comes to a climactic end. “They’re pretty good, actually.”

“I thought you preferred jazz?”

“I can appreciate other things.”

“You never appreciate my tastes,” Helena snips, slumping back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I told you, I just don’t get opera,” Myka says.

“What is there to 'get’?”

“I 'get’ they’re old-school musicals, but the way they sing—”

“How dare you compare such poetry with the vulgarities of musical theater—”

“—and sing, and sing—”

“With artistry. Unlike the display before us.” Helena waves a hand at the cover band.

“There’s artistry in this,” Myka says, watching the men on stage nod their heads, deeply, with the beat, during the intro to the next song. “It’s not the nineteenth century. You’re going to have to get with the times. Were you this cranky with Nate?”

“I hadn’t the agency to express myself.”

“Who’s fault was that?”

“This is not a venue in which to discuss such things.”

“It never is,” Myka grumbles. “So you’re only a curmudgeon with me?”

“I am coming around to Maria Callas.”

“Whatever that means—”

“Wazzzup homies!” Claudia bellows over the hum of the band. “That guy shreds! He’s gonna be totes bummed when we yank his tube.”

“Ugh,” Myka says, nose crinkling.

“Missed me, huh?” Claudia says, swiping a chair from the table behind them and sitting between the two. “What’s up with this black death cake thing?” She points to the cake on the table.

“We believe there’s a festivity planned,” Helena answers.

“The people sitting here are friends with the band,” Myka says.

“And highly inebriated.” Helena nods toward a group bouncing up and down in front of the stage.

“Also, fashion-challenged,” Claudia says. “Guess they didn’t get the memo the nineties are back.”

“The nineties never happened for them,” Myka says, shaking her head.

“I lived through the nineties,” Helena says wistfully. “Though the 'leg of mutton’ sleeve never appealed to me.”

“With a name like that, I can see why, ” Myka says. “What were they?”

“Garish, bulbous things.” Helena gestures at her upper arm, making a sweeping motion.

“We had those, too, in the eighties, but in rayon.”

“Blech, shoulder pads,” Claudia says, sticking out her tongue. “So our hair metal friends…what’s your plan?”

“We haven’t a clue,” Helena answers.

“We’re really glad you’re here,” Myka says. “You know this stuff better than we do.”

“Classic Van Halen? Everyone knows that.”

“Certainly not,” Helena says.

“Just from the radio,” Myka adds.

“Come on, Eddie’s a freakin’ genius!”

“Then perhaps you might explain this current overture to me,” Helena says. “Myka’s demanded I 'get with the times.’”

“Is the seventies really 'the times?’” Claudia asks.

“For her, anything in the twentieth century is. Or maybe only with me.”

Myka shoots Helena a glare. Helena answers with a scowl.

“Why exactly is this woman called Jaime crying?” Helena asks Claudia.

“She hooked up with some guy and he ghosted her.”

“I’ve never understood that term.”

“They, like, did the deed, and he disappeared.”

“Aren’t ghosts meant to haunt?”

“He does, sort of, in her mind.” Claudia taps at her head. “She wants more than a roll in the hay, though she knows he’s a dick. Some chicks are dumb like that.”

“But the lyrics state she wished to write to him. So she knows where he resides.”

“You’re right. He’s bad at ghosting.”

“She must have thought him a worthy suitor.”

“I guess?”

“Perhaps she’s Tatiana, and he Onegin.”

“She’s a whata who?” Claudia blurts.

“He rebukes her initial advances but seeks her out years later, professing his undying love.” Helena explains. “But by then, she’s trapped in a loveless marriage to a Prince.”

“Um…song’s only three minutes long.”

“There’s no resolution?”

“What’s she talking about?” Claudia says, looking toward Myka.

“Opera,” Myka says, nodding sagely. “She’s talking about opera.”

“Oh, god, no,” Claudia blurts. “Steve fangirled so hard when found out H.G. saw La Boheme opening night. It was freaky.”

“I just happened to be in Turin at the time,” Helena says.

“Of course, you were,” Myka grumbles. “Hey, isn’t Rent based on that?”

“Only in the basest sense,” Helena mumbles.

“You’ve seen it? When?”

“While adrift with the astrolabe. I saw it described as a modern rock opera, and thought—”

“Oooh, did you see Hedwig, ioo?” Claudia blurts.

“Was she in Rent?”

“It’s a movie. And a musical. Maybe a modern rock opera? What makes something an opera?”

“Says here, 'a dramatic story told through song, combining art, music, drama, and dance,”’ Myka reads from her phone.

“Then, hell yes, it is!”

Helena looks at Myka quizzically.

“It’s…um, not Rent,” Myka says with a shrug.

“You’re gonna love it!” Claudia says, her attention swinging toward movement near the band. “Birthday party’s on the move! Time to schmooze.” As the song ends, she shuffles off and infiltrates the group.

“You know, you’re kind of a romantic with all this opera stuff,” Myka says.

“You thought me otherwise?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been Tatiana. I’m glad you came back before I married a Prince I didn’t love.”

“I’d have never let that happen.”

“Promise?”

“As it was, it took all my strength to remain distant from you. Two wrongs would not have made a right.”

“But it would have made a good opera plot.”

“One I’m content to watch from afar.”

“Me too,” Myka says, leaning over Claudia’s chair, meeting Helena’s lips, already moving towards hers.

“Guys! Come meet the band!” Claudia yells.

“Coming!” Myka yells back, pulling away from the kiss. “Stay here. Let me and Claudia handle this.” She pushes her chair back and rises.

“Must I continue sipping this vile liquid?” Helena holds up an amber bottle.

“The crappy beer was to fit in. Order something else.” Myka looks toward the bar, the crowd now two rows deep and increasingly punch-drunk. “Or, maybe not.”

“I shall need proper libation are I to remain,” Helena says, looking towards the bar. “Those rabble-rousers are no match for me.”

“I never know with you. Remember Rhode Island? I left you alone for five minutes. Five minutes, Helena, and—”

“That machine was rigged! Had we not been forcibly removed, I’d have proved it.”

“You can’t rip apart things that aren’t yours! Especially in the middle of a tournament. Maybe you’re just not good at pinball.”

“It’s simple mathematics,” Helena grumbles, eyeing the bar again. “But I’d rather not repeat that incident, for your sake.”

“No rum for you, ever again.”

“That is wise. Though I do recall my 'apology’ that night quite pleased you.”

Myka gives a dramatic eye roll. “Come on,” she grunts, grabbing Helena by the upper arm and yanking her out of her seat.

Helena rises and follows willingly, a smug smile plastered across her face.

--END SCENE--

————————

Happy B&W Gift Exchange Day @mfangeleeta! I hope you don’t mind that I used this opportunity as an excuse to write a new episode. I was thinking I’d dive back into this universe in the summer, but why not start now? (PS: This is set before Eddie died in 2020. And I sincerely hope I didn’t bungle the gist of Eugene Onegin too badly. And I think, Helena ends up enjoying “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” because of Claudia’s commentary. I haven’t seen it in a million years.) Tagging @b-and-w-holiday-gift-exchange, too, as directed. Oh and for everyone else, pop into the archive on my blog to find Season 1 (W13 season 5 replacement series), all eight episodes (plus a xmas holiday bonus) were posted in 2021. The whole thing prompted by deathtodickens “Bering and Wells Show” prompt last year.

(PS: I posted this earlier but it was missing an image and the "MORE", so I deleted it and am reposting.)

[blackjacktheboss]

Helllo maybe fluff 17 or general 18 if you want?? That list was so good I don’t know what to choose lol

Percy has always been competitive. For as long as he can remember anything from a big basketball game to a round of classroom jeopardy has brought out both the best and worst in him, and just because he’s technically an adult doesn’t mean that’s changed. Which is why  he’s so surprised that despite the fact that Annabeth has been kicking his ass at mini golf all night, all he cares about is the fact that he’s with her.

“Hey Jackson,” she calls in a way that makes his stomach do a somersault. “You gonna keep making doe eyes at me all night or you gonna mini golf?”

“These are baby seal eyes, first of all,” he corrects as he tees up his bright blue ball. “And I told you, my hamstring is feeling tight so it’s throwing my balance all off.”

Annabeth smiles as she leans on her putter. “Right, the hamstring. How could I forget.”

Percy sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth as he tries to gauge how much force to strike the ball with to get it over the various little hills that lead to the hole. He wiggles his hips back and forth a few times as he prepares to strike, but is interrupted by Annabeth laughing.

He turns around with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she says with a head tilt. “You’re just really cute.”

Percy feels his cheeks get hot and swallows hard. “Quiet on the course, please.”

Annabeth puts a finger to her lips, which are pulled into a closed mouth smile.

Again, Percy wiggles as he prepares himself. He exhales a deep breath, and swings at the ball, staying bent over as he watches the ball ping pong between mounds of turf. The ball begins its curve towards the hole, swirling around its mouth before being spat back out and coming to a stop off to the side.

“FUCK!” Percy shouts, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth as he notices the young family waiting behind them for a turn. “Sorry!”

“C’mon, Tiger,” Annabeth says, tugging Percy’s arm to retrieve their balls.

It’s another twenty minutes of getting absolutely destroyed and Percy has the time of his life. He has never felt so comfortable and at ease with another person, and as he watches Annabeth effortlessly sink a final hole in one and celebrate by raising her putter in the hair and declaring herself the world champion of mini golf, he thinks he might really be in love.

“Jealous, Jackson?” she teases as she approaches him, victorious.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’re my soulmate,” he blurts out, his face immediately getting hot as he realizes what he’s said.

Annabeth seems stunned for a moment, but it quickly melts away and is replaced by a satisfied smile. “Is that so?”

Percy bites his bottom lip and nods.

Annabeth takes a big step, landing her right in front of Percy. “So what do I get for winning?”

“Wh-- what do you want?” he asks, swallowing nervously.

Her lips are close enough to brush against his. “Guess.”