#he’s gonna show up at worlds in his little summer speedos

[deedoop]

Testing The Waters

CW: Voyeurism, Humiliation Kink, Possessive Behavior, Daddy Kink

The thing about Steve is that he’s needy. Beyond needy really, he’s addicted. He’s addicted to Billy’s scent, his body, his entire being. When Hawkin’s pool opened for the summer, Steve was there everyday he didn’t have to work, he would watch Billy, watch the pool water drip down his tan chest, watch the way his lips moved around that whistle.

Every day he would try and get Billy to break, to fuck him right than and there, not wait until they were both home. At first it had been innocent, brushing against him and whispering words full of sin, than it had been showing up in his sailor outfit. People stared but he knew well what that outfit did to Billy Hargrove.

That night at Steve’s house, Billy had fucked into him good, pounding him until he saw stars in his eyes. “You’re gonna get someone killed pretty boy, got me looking at you all fuckin’ shift. Playin’ with fire Stevie.” And each word, each point he made, was accented with a hard thrust.

The truth was, Steve Harrington was a massive cock slut. Specifically a massive cock slut for Billy. When he felt Billy’s cock fuck into him it was like the whole world shut off, like his brain lost power. He couldn’t stop the way his tongue fell out of his mouth and how girly he sounded when he moaned, Billy had this ultimate power over him, a power Steve had once thought Nancy had had over him.

He couldn’t of been more wrong. When Billy Hargrove came to town, it was like a fire had started in his heart, a fire that could only be put out by him. No other, not even Nancy had made him feel this way. Dustin was pretty sure Billy was some kind of succubus from his board game, some kind of creature that had taken Steve’s brain cells away from him.

Maybe that was true, Steve couldn’t find it in himself to care. Today Billy was wearing a pair of shorts a size too tight. It hid nothing from the view and every woman was fawning over Billy, but Steve knew who this view was for. He sat up on his lawn chair, his eyes wide. He had to hide his growing erection with a towel, his cheeks flush not just with the heat of the hot summer day but the arousal that was quickly growing in him.

Hargrove knew damn well what he was doing, turning the tides of their little game. He shot Steve a smirk, licking his lips as he climbed up the guard tower, taking his seat. Steve was fucked. Utterly fucked. If Billy truly was a succubus? Than he was a willing victim.

Harrington took a few breaths, steadying himself. Billy was not going to win this game, he was. Maybe this was unfair, maybe this really would cause someone to get hurt from an inattentive lifeguard but Steve wasn’t thinking straight, couldn’t think straight. Not with Billy Hargrove taunting him like he was.

He slipped off his shorts, revealing his speedo underneath, it was simple and black but left nothing to the imagination. To anyone else at the pool, wearing such a thing wasn’t a big deal but to Billy, it was fuel to a growing fire. Steve adjusted himself quickly before laying down on the white lawn chair, spreading his legs ever so slightly, his head tilted up. He was a willing prey to a hungry predator.

Billy blew his whistle hard, yelling at some kid for some mundane action. He was pissed, absolutely hungry for Steve. He felt like a tiger that hadn’t been fed in way too long. Just thirty more minutes until it was pool break, just thirty minutes. Than Steve Harrington would get what he wanted all this time and thensome.

He bounced his leg, couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Steve’s form every once in awhile, watching as he tanned in different positions, as he subtly arched his back, as he lifted his throat for all to see. Billy could see the hickies from last night still marked into Steve’s supple white flesh. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes and Steve would understand a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.

Billy blew into his whistle and immediately hopped off his chair, marching to wear Harrington lay. In the crowd of kids and adults scurrying from the pool no one noticed the lifeguard talking to his friend. Whispering into his ear.

“You really think your somethin’ Harrington? Tryin’ get Daddy all hot and bothered at work huh? You want me to take you right here? Make everyone know who owns you? Let all of Hawkins know you’re nothing but a whore?” Billy’s fingers dug into Steve’s hair, tugging at the strands until Steve winced.

“Get up Harrington. Get up.” They had fifteen minutes until Billy had to be back on that chair, fifteen. He could work with that. He yanked Steve off the chair by his hair before grabbing at his wrist and dragging him into the pool office, locking the door. Steve looked absolutely excited, his pupils blown wide, his speedo barely hiding his hard leaking cock, a cock too big for such apparel. Steve mewled like a kitten as Billy breathed against his neck.

“You gonna fuck me Daddy?” Steve whined, grinding up against Billy’s wet red shorts. Billy’s strong hand pushed him back into the desk, his head shaking in disappointment.

“You show off what is mine. Mine.” His hand grabbed against Steve’s clothed dick, squeezing. “You act like a pathetic slut Harrington, all of Hawkins gotta know what a fucking cock slut you are, practically throwing yourself at me. This what you want? You want me to fuck you? Want everyone to hear you?”

Steve nodded quickly, they had twelve minutes left. Billy could make this work. He ripped off Steve’s speedo, shoving them down towards his ankles. He quickly pressed Steve against the desk, biting into his shoulder as he pressed two thick fingers into his tight hole. Steve couldn’t help but squeal, his hips arching back, desperate for more, desperate to be filled.

“Daddy!” Steve cried, throwing his head back, “Fuck me, fuck me! Fuck Billy fuck me!” He rambled on and on, his entire body thrumming with desperate arousal, his cock leaking pathetically on the tile of the floor.

“You like this? Like being fucked like some cheap slut Steve? Like trying to not get caught? Huh? Answer me Stevie. Use your words, whatever words your dumb little brain can manage.”

Steve’s eyes were squeezed shut, Billy’s girthy cut cock pressing into him, shoving him against the desk which banged against the wall. He was at Billy’s mercy, the succubus had its tentacles wrapped around him. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Steve howled, banging his fists against the wall, his entire body shaking.

Billy was fucking him within an inch of his life, hard enough the old wooden desk was cracking beneath him, hard enough that Steve couldn’t stop the moans and screams coming from his mouth, prayed that the sounds of a busy pool drowned them out. His entire brain was consumed with one thought, Billy’s cock that was filling him to the brim, that wasn’t stopping even though Steve had already came all over the floor.

The overstimulation was immense, felt like his brain had suffered a massive shortage, “Billy! Billy I c-can’t!” Billy was so big and every thrust shoved against the overcharged bundle of nerves. He was pretty sure he blacked out as Billy only fucked him harder, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he squeezed around Billy, his second pathetic orgasm rocketing through him. He wasn’t even aware Billy had filled his ass with his seed, that Billy had pulled his speedo up and slapped his ass, watching as the cum dripped down his thighs.

Billy laughed a bit, just admiring his handy work, pulling his own trunks up. Two minutes to spare. Good time. He licked his lips, picking the boneless keg king up. Poor poor baby, all cock drunk and sleepy. He deposited him on a pool chair to let him sleep and only hoped that Jason Carver noticed the fresh bite mark on Steve as he walked by. He hoped it pissed him off, hoped everyone at Hawkin’s understood, Steve Harrington was his.

[safetycar-restart]

Hi, I was the person who wrote about poly Piarles when you go on holiday and leave them alone, can I claim the 🩰 emoji because I’ve so much more to talk about with these two.

So basically I’ve seen on Twitter that Charles and his girlfriend Charlotte have matching swimming suits and I think it’s the cutest thing in the world. On Charlottes Instagram it’s the swimming shorts Charles is wearing from her post on June 4th, (also to add in he looks like such a soft bunny in the second picture in that post).

Anyways all I can think about now is Charles being so excited for the summer break to relax and spend time with his two favourite people, and all three of you have discussed what you will do with the boys time off, and obviously they want to go on a yacht for a couple of days, so you decide that’s what you’ll do. Charles can’t stop thinking of this, out on the water with his two favourite people alone in your own little world essentially. Charles ends up ordering the matching swimming costumes, and just the idea of all three of you matching has him so unbelievably excited. Of course he keeps it a secret as what he’s ordered, and you and Pierre and thinking he’s up to no good, but when the package finally arrives Charles can’t wait to show you. You are genuinely so proud of him because he’s so happy to show off what he’s ordered.

Anyways just thought this was a cute idea, because when I saw that Charles and Charlotte had matching swimsuits I nearly wept at how cute it was!

- 🩰 (the ballerina slippers, just incase you can’t see it let me know!)

Hi hello! Welcome 🩰 anon! That first ask was amazing and this is too!! Everyone welcome 🩰 to the gang!!

Ok let’s do this.

Firstly, Charles has been looking forward to the summer break basically since the season started. Because there’s absolutely nothing Charles loves more than spending time with you and Pierre.

Of course both Charles and Pierre are big on family and friends and they’d both want to spend some time with those people.

But the first week or two of the summer break? That’s just for the three of you.

And your bunny is so excited that he’s practically vibrating while you guys are planning what to do together. He’s just so excited about time with you and Pierre!!

He’s actually so proud of himself for thinking of matching swimsuits?

Usually on vacations, or even just time spend at home, you’ll choose what Charles wears because wearing clothes you’ve chosen is so comforting for him? He just loves it.

So it’s actually quite rare for Charles to do something like get full outfits for the three of you, because usually he doesn’t even dress himself at home.

But the idea of matching with you and Pierre is way too tempting. He loves the idea SO much so of course he’s gonna do it.

And he probably spends hours choosing? And knowing him, ends up buying like eight matching swimsuits because he couldn’t choose which ones were the best and he didn’t want to go ask you or Pierre because this is supposed to be a surprise.

And of course he bears in mind what you and Pierre like, making sure to choose your favorite designs and cuts. Though, he does buy Pierre a Speedo a size too small because well... he couldn’t resist.

Of course you and Pierre know he’s up to something, but he also looks so excited and happy about whatever he’s planned so you and Pierre both keep quiet and just let him do his thing.

He shows you the night before you’re set to leave, when you’re all packing.

He brings out a box and then proudly shows you all the matching swimsuits he bought!!

And you and Pierre praise him so much of course. Thanking him for being so thoughtful and calling him such a good boy and promising to all wear the matching swimsuits.

And actually, Charles panicking and buying multiple works out so well, because it means you can choose which of the matching swimsuits you guys wear everyday. So you’re still choosing what Charles wears.

So he gets the both of worlds! He gets to match with his favourite people AND he gets to have his clothes chosen for him.

He’s a very happy bunny.

[infinitegalahad]

so i’ve been having a lot of brainrot lately but…this is been my main brainrot. ladies, gays, and theys may i present my winnix x parent trap au madness! (sorry if this has been done before!)

it’s 1986 in aldbourne, england. Lewis Nixon, a journalist for the new york times and dick winters, a history professor at F&M elope after spending the summer together traveling europe. shortly after having both of there daughters, the two divorce and each have sold custody. lew gets annie, and dick gets maggie.

thirteen years later, annie and maggie get sent to the same camp in maine. the girls fence and HATE eachother and start pulling pranks. annie thinks maggie is a country bumpkin and maggie thinks annie is one of those arrangtont, spoiled, rich girls from new york. one prank goes too far, and both of the girls are led to live in the isolation cabin. with this time alone, they grow closer. they both learn that they love oreo’s and peanut butter (they served it at the wedding since lew knew how much dick loves them), they both play poker (lew’s fav), and both of them only have one parent and we’re born on the same day. annie, being just like miss nixon’s baby boy, puts the pieces together that they are twins! so they create a plan. they will swap places. annie will go to lancaster with dick, and maggie will go to new york city with lew. after some piercings, haircuts, and learning, the girls switch!

so annie meets dick at the airport. also i forgot to mention that maggie always wears the leather paratrooper’s jacket since her dad gives it to her as a memory. annie starts crying when she meets dick bc he’s so kind, and he finally looks like her. dick takes her to there little farm in lancaster and they go horseback riding, they bake pies, hiking, etc. since annie is a city girl, she isn’t used to all of this and almost slips by saying “europe is better then this!” and dick just chuckles. because she sounds a lot like lew but he doesn’t catch onto it. so annie starts asking since she feels like dick is really lonely, except for his dog and farmer’s hand, kitty. mEANWHILEEEE

so maggie goes to new york and meets harry, lew’s best friend and butler, at the airport. harry is maggie/annie’s bestie and is like “sweet pea!” and they have there little handshake and it’s SO cute. so anyways maggie meets lew and she is so HAPPY. also forgot to mention maggie cut her hair since annie had short hair and pierced her ears and lew is like “i love the new look!” and then he takes her shopping for new accessories bc king shit. so they go out to dinner and then maggie has to meet lew’s new girlfriend, kathy. who hates dog’s, children, AND wants lew for the money. maggie is like “oh shit we GOTTA stop this” so they come up with a plan!

kitty is growing suspicious of annie’s behavior, and they talk, and kitty nearly cried bc she is a proud aunt. harry finds out about maggie and they go on a long walk. the two girls hatch a plan. maggie is going to confess to lew about her true identity but doesn’t because she see’s her dad drunk, and all sad, and backs out. annie decides to tell dick and dick is just. best dad in the world about it. annie tells dick that nixon wants to switch the girls in boston, and kitty and harry come along. oh and kathy😫 and BOTH OF THERE DOGS. dick’s collie and lew’s terrier, who i do not know to name. up for suggestions tho! ANYWAYS

that same weekend, kathy, nix, harry, and maggie travel to this hotel in boston to plan for the wedding. same weekend, dick, kitty, and annie go to the same hotel. lew see’s dick in the pool and is heartstruck and falls into the pool and they both learn that the girls tricked them into this. meanwhile, harry is in a speedo and kitty falls in love with him. the girls decide to recreate the night that both of the men met in the subhurbs of boston and even rent a little cabin for them, but they fail to rekindle the relationship bc dick won’t be with lew due to alcohol issues, and lew won’t be with dick until he stops repressing his emotions. the twins are like “FUCK” and plan a camping trip that everyone goes on. dick, lew, maggie, annie, and even kathy. one big family. it GOES ON

kathy keeps feeding nix alcohol so dick won’t want him, but nix finds this out, and says he’s gonna quit drinking and go to rehab for dick and the girls. so kathy shows her true colors and the wedding gets called off. back at the cabin, dick and lew walk around the park and talk about there spark. dick refalls in love with lew, but they choose it’s best if they go there separate ways. so dick and maggie go back to lancaster but annie and lew bet them there. lew is all like “flying is faster” and he says he’ll change for dick. they kiss and make up and it’s a big happy family!

the prologue is that the girls both stay with dick while nix is in rehab. the story ends with nix coming back to the farm and nix is like “am i going the right way?” and dick is like “yes you are” and big family hug and FIREWORKS BOOM

[whump-town]

BAU Pool Fic

I wrote @davidrossi-ismydad bau pool fic... it’s 3,000 words bro I took it way too far

“Jack Attack!” Emily Prentiss finds herself with an armful of overly excited five-ear-old. “How are you doing baby?” She brushes a strand of his hair back from his face, rubbing in a spot of sunscreen on his temple. She loves all her nephews. They’re her maternal outlet and Jack just eats it up. Even if that does crush both her and Hotch. 

Jack smiles broadly, “I’m super!” He moves, twisting so she can see the floaties on his little arms. “Look!” Jack points on his floaties, “Daddy got me floats with Cap’n ‘merica!” Sure enough, a cartooned Captain America is sitting on his bicep. “Uncle Dave is gonna let us swim!” 

Emily is nodding along, used to his quick pace. She knew about the Captain America floaties last week when Dave first brought up opening the pool. Hotch went from timidly sipping the Scotch Dave gave him to panicked because Target hadn’t gotten in their superhero floaties yet. Of course, in the safety of Dave’s office, she’d chuckled at seeing his DadMode activate. Then she had Garcia show Hotch how to order the floaties online, where they were in-stock.

“I know,” she agrees, trying to match his enthusiasm. “Are you excited to swim?”

Jack nods, “Daddy said he would too!” 

A sigh comes from behind her and Emily turns to find Hotch. He’s got a beach bag over his right shoulder while his left-hand twists his sunglasses by the side. “Buddy, I said I might swim.” He loves his team, really does, but getting in that pool with both sets of ‘the boys’ might be a bit much. That and he has to do his best to keep water out of his ears unless he wants to nurse an ear infection all summer long. 

JJ and Garcia laughter cut through any further conversation, coming in through the side door. Their drinks already in hand, sent by Rossi to greet whoever he heard just pulled in. The two of them had been expecting Emily, she’d sent a text as a ‘heads up’ when she stopped for gas on the way here. It’s just a pleasant surprise to find Hotch and Jack too.

“So, that’s what you’ve been hiding under all those suits.” JJ cocks her head to the side, smirking at Hotch. She, of course, knows about her best friends rocking bods. Everyone has seen Morgan topless, so he’s no big surprise. The real treat in today’s plans was 100% figuring out what Hotch and Reid hid under way too many layers of clothes.

Garcia agrees too, sipping some white fruity white canned alcoholic drink. “You look hot, sir.”

Hotch looks down at himself. He’s wearing a dark green, thin button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He hadn’t buttoned the first three buttons, leaving a good bit of his chest visible. His trunks are dark blue and come up just above his knees. They were shorter than what he’d expected when he ordered them but pants are always a problem at his height. So he considered it an overall win they didn’t come up higher. 

Compared to his usual attire around them, he might as well be naked. Not to mention his pale skin which is startlingly bright in the light of Rossi’s parlor. Hot isn’t exactly what he’d seen in the mirror when he’d put it on. Just… clothes. 

“Thank you,” he responds, with a tense smile. He really needs to work on accepting compliments. “Nice… bathing suits.” 

That is the understatement of the year. 

JJ has on a one-piece that cuts up very high on her hips. She’d chosen the color maroon and damn if she wasn’t right about it being her color. It’s cheeky and risky and Garcia was absolutely here for it. Refusing to hear JJ’s excuse she couldn’t pull off bathing suits like this one anymore. She has a mom-bod.

Emily’s rebuttal had been that JJ was right. She does have a mom-bod because JJ is a total MILF.

With two hype-women, JJ had to get the bathing suit.

Garcia’s own is white with red and blue flowers. There’s a perfect triangle cut out between her breast, drawing tasteful attention to them. Her selection had come easy, ‘I don’t need your help on this one. It’s speaking to me’. She too looked killer but saves her boss any grief on his compliment falling short. 

Emily snorts at the comment but covers it up by addressing how her best friends had betrayed her. “Evidently, this year we were going one piece.” Emily gestures to her own body, to the bathing suit she’s hidden under a maxi dress. “I didn’t get the memo.”

Garcia caves first, “babe, we said we were sorry!”

Seeing this as his only ticket to get away from a conversation he has no idea how to be a part of, Hotch extends his hand to Jack. “Come on buddy.” 

Emily puts him down, patting his head as he takes Hotch’s hand and follows his father with a little skip. 

“See daddy,” he says brightly. “I told you, you looked han’some!”

Emily watches them leave, tucking her arms around her body. It’s protective and comforting. She smiles sadly at Jack’s comment, it turning bitterly into a frown

JJ cups Emily’s cheek, “we are sorry.” 

The worst part is, she’s not mad they got one-piece bathing suits. It’s about her own insecurities. JJ has smooth, perfect skin, and Garcia’s gunshot wound makes her look like a badass. The memory is… murky but she’s a fighter because of it. 

Emily’s scars are tainted. A reminder of just how awful their lives have been lately and when she takes her dress off it’s just going to be that much more in their face. She’s a walking horror film, a damn slasher movie.  

“It’s fine,” Emily promises. “I’m just…” she blows out a breath. “I’m in a mood, I guess.” 

Her arms are still crossed so JJ finds that a little hard to believe but before she can start to dive into a line of question and dredge up whatever is bothering her. 

“I didn’t know the party was in here,” Rossi states, stepping into the house. He sees the tension in Emily’s body, frowning when Emily places her hand over the one JJ has on her cheek. Squeezing the thin digits before moving them away. “Bella?” His relaxed smile falls, “is there something wrong?”

Pappa Rossi has come out and he’s a fierce mister to mess around with.

Emily shakes her head, picking up her bag and stifling all her concerns. “I’m fine,” she promises. She motions for the other girls to follow and she meets Rossi at the door. “You just worry too much, vecchio uomo.” 

Old man? She wounds him.

He’s dressed simply, no desire to swim in the pool with those little animals (whom he loves dearly but the point still stands). Dad jean and an opened button-down, he looks too good. He squints his eyes but his sunglasses hide his skepticism. “Mhmm.” He opens the door for them, “you’d better get out there. You’re missing out on a party.”

The party greets them before they can fully get out of the door. 

“Oh, Spence,” JJ covers her mouth, the only person merciful enough to hide her smile at the sight of him. “Honey, what did you do?”

Someone, definitely Derek, had pushed him into the pool. He looks like a drowned rat. An adorable drowned rat but a rat none-the-less and in his clothes too. He shakes his head, looking down at his wet clothes. “I got pushed in.”

“Uncle Derek,” Jack explains helpfully, padding up to them. He’s visibly wet, obviously an eyewitness given his pleased smile. 

“Yep,” Henry confirms from his best friend’s side. Smiling just as bright as Jack. “Untle Derek push’ted him in!” He jumps happily at the end, nodding his head to his mother. 

The uncle in question sneaks up behind the boys, grabbing them by their waists and hoisting them up. “Are you boys tattling on me?” One on each side, Morgan looks between them faking an angry frown. Both boys know exactly what he’s going to do and start squirming excitedly. Claiming simultaneous denial. 

Morgan’s face sobers for a split second, his attention on the adults. “Pretty boy had it coming,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I brought him a bathing suit and he wouldn’t put it on.” He shrugs and his playful smirk sinks back into place as he announces, “and since someone tattled on me… I’m forced to get my revenge.”

“No! No!” Henry and Jack shout, gleefully screaming as Morgan turns around and heads for the pool. 

“Hold your breath boys!” Morgan jumps in and there’s a large splash as all three submerge. The boys pop up first like little apples, laughing uncontrollably. 

Reid is standing in front of them shivering, looking rather pathetic soaked to the bone. “I pulled him in with me,” Reid states, moving to get past them. 

Poor Reid had not been expecting it at all. He’d gone to the pool’s edge to talk to Henry and Jack. They were chatting away, Jack showing him the Captain America’s and Henry telling Reid that he was gonna learn how to swim without floats with Uncle Hotch too. So he and Jack could both be big boys.

That’s when Morgan had come up from behind, lifting Reid off his feet in a swoop and throwing him in. 

In his mind, it was payback. Morgan brought Reid a very bright red speedo, a gag gift of course. After that fun had ended, the fun being seeing how red he got having to hold the atrocious garment in his hand, Morgan had gifted him light purple swim trunks.

So that he could swim. Except, Reid refused. So Morgan took the matter into his own hands. Then he felt guilty.

Offering Reid a hand up had, of course, been a mistake because the second the genius’ hand met his Morgan felt a sharp pull. Then he found himself in the pool. 

Jack and Henry, who hadn’t recovered from how hard they’d laughed watching Reid get dunked in were wheezing by the time Morgan’s head popped back up.

It seems as if they really did miss a party.

“Prentiss,” Hotch greets, walking up alongside her with a drink. “It’s a strawberry daiquiri, Dave said it’s your favorite.”

She takes the drink with a smile, watching her friends mingle and laugh amongst themselves. While she stands off to the side, isolating herself. She takes a small sip from the top, smiling. God, if Hotch and Rossi weren’t just the sweetest men she knew. Which is a strange thought to have once she considers it. Hotch is the bad cop to her good cop and Rossi is the reason they have such strict fraternization rules. 

“Do you think I can just be Emily, today?” she asks hopefully. 

Hotch smiles, nodding. “If I can be Aaron,” he barters. They tap their glasses together, a silent agreement. He takes a sip of his beer, watching the others around them. He’d gotten word, from Dave, about Emily and the bathing suit thing. She could play the other’s stupid but no one can lie to David Rossi. Not even Hotch. “Not swimming?”

She sighs and she knows exactly what this is. “Aaron...” she sighs, shaking her head but she can’t think of what to say. She can’t say he doesn’t understand. Her wounds might be larger but he had more. Quantity to quality and God, that’s awful. 

He takes her hand lightly, his eyes intense and sad. 

And she’s terrified. 

He lets go and she thinks that it. He’s going to let it go because they’re messing with demons here and she’s learned her lesson with stirring them up. But he does something so much worse. 

He takes his shirt off. 

“Hotch-”

His hands are trembling despite this being some act of courage because it’s only been two years and he knows the scars look awful and-

“Uh-oh!” JJ yells from the other side of the pool. She’s very drunk and drunk JJ is very supportive… and has no filter. “DILF alert!” She sends them two thumbs up and Will waves, a stressed smile stretched across his face. 

Hearing the commotion, Garcia turns away from Morgan and their current conversation. “Holy shit…” Garcia mumbles, pushing her sunglasses down to get a better look. “Does the FBI do a wet t-shirt contest or something? We have to get you boys in it.”

Hotch tilts his head expectantly.

“Oh shut up,” she rolls her eyes and sits her daiquiri down. She takes back every nice thing she’s ever said or thought about him. Especially that internal monologue from before about him being one of just the sweetest man she knew. In fact, she doesn’t like men at all anymore. 

Pulling her dress up over her head, she shakes her head.

That’s right, the Aaron Hotchner, a certified DILF, and federal agent had turned her 100% gay… well, until she forgives him. 

She frowns at him, realizing how dumb they both look just staring at each other mostly naked. “Satisfied?” 

He raises an eyebrow, playfully shaking his head, “are you trying to get us both sent to a sexual harassment meeting, Agent Prentiss?”

“Morgan and Garcia could use the company.” She’s trying very hard to keep her eyes on his face which is also making it hard to be mad at him. The scars aren’t even that noticeable and, while his abs might not be as defined as Morgan’s they are still visible. And nice. 

Before this conversation or frankly, anything else about this day, can get any weirder, Rossi calls out that the burgers are done. 

First come first served.

Which really means Reid, Henry, and Jack eat first while the rest of them fend for themselves. 

The chaos, as always, really gets going after dinner. 

JJ, Emily, and Garcia were standing and discussing whether or not Emily should get a different bathing suit for the beach trip her mother’s planning when the boys come from nowhere. 

Will, Reid, and Morgan.

All three girls end up in the pool. Garcia slung over Morgan’s shoulder. JJ scooped up by Will. Emily dragged kicking and screaming by Reid. It’s declared war and Emily, seeing Hotch chuckling at the sight of them, decides it’s against all of the men. 

The other three aren’t that hard to get. 

Will is lured in the way any man is into a trap, by thinking with the wrong head. JJ takes him out at the knees and Emily is the final blow. Execution style. Will considers it to be a bitter defeat.

Morgan is stupid. Emily sends off to get more drinks and together Garcia and JJ rush him as he walks past the pool. He goes in mid-wave to Jack and Henry, who are playing in the shallow end. 

Emily just picks Reid up, doing the same as he’d done to her. Ego soaring and the alcohol she’d consumed clouding her judgment, Emily takes on her main target. Aaron Hotchner. 

He’s standing at the edge of the pool, with his shirt back on but completed unbuttoned, and telling Jack and Henry to come to get another layer of sunscreen on. His back is completed turned when Emily pushes into him. She’s expecting to hear his body hit the pool water and then her name to be grumbled out when he bobs back to the surface.

It’s like hitting concrete. The man goes nowhere. 

He turns to face her, frowning disappointingly. “Is that all you got Emily?” He shakes his head and turns back to the boys, “chop! Chop! The faster you get out the faster you get right back in.”

Emily attempts to conspire with the others but they’re cowards.

“Oh, no, princess. Not a chance in hell.” Morgan shakes his head, he already thinks she’s crazy for trying the first time.

JJ is too drunk to really tackle. 

Garcia thinks it would be cruel. Hotch has done nothing wrong.

Will is a coward.

Reid is scared of him.

Rossi is too old. 

“You’re all boring,” she pouts. So she tries again on her own.

The boys are back in the pool, Hotch asking when the last time they had some water or a juice box was. That alone almost stops her. Because it’s adorable. She decides she really doesn’t care and takes the approach of shouting his name and then tackling him.  

He catches her. She hits his body but he moves at the last second and wraps his arms around her waist. “Is this what you were trying to do?” Right over his shoulder she goes, plop- right in the pool.

The boys get a proper kick out of it. 

Emily, with a towel wrapped around her shoulders, sulking in a chair watches as Jack and Henry shout for Hotch. He pretends to be surprised as they run at him. They jump up and he catches them to his chest, making a dramatic show of pretending to be knocked back into the pool. 

When he comes to the surface he shakes his hair out of his face and she frowns, hating him for making that look hot. 

Ick... men.

The afternoon wraps itself up well. 

Rossi lures the boys out of the pool with sweets and movies. It’s a picture perfect moment. 

Jack and Henry are exhausted and the moment they settle in the living room, both sharing Uncle Dave’s lap in the lazy boy, they’re out like lights. There’s the smallest bit of chocolate smeared on their lips and Rossi dares Hotch or Will to take his boys away. They can stay the night.

And they do. 

Emily says goodbye to all three, pressing kisses to their temples.

“Did you have fun, Bella?”

She got free food. She got drunk. 

Her boss took his shirt off in front of everyone to make her feel comfortable in her own skin and then dunked her in the pool.

She laughed until she cried with JJ and Garcia.

She played a very dangerous game of chicken with Morgan and Reid...

“Yeah,” she admits. “I had a lot of fun.”

Rossi’s eyes crinkle, “mission accomplished then.”

[zen3to5]

J/H 6-01: The Kids Are Alright

Welcome, everyone, to Zenmasters: Seasons 3 to 5+!

I was pretty set on keeping this rewrite project limited to the titular seasons when I started. The only exception, I thought, would be to possibly do a rewrite of the series finale, working on the premise that Season 7 would be the last.

Then I rewatched Season 6 - which, if you’ll recall, didn’t go down so well. So I've decided not only to do a new series finale, but to make some more adjustments along the way there. In doing so, I've set myself the following hard limits:

1. I'm only rewriting what I find to be the rough patches in Jackie and Hyde's material (otherwise, I'd be overhauling virtually every single script of this season, and no way am I going down that road.) Since I think their relationship is generally well-handled in Season 6, that means we're only looking at two areas: their make-up at the beginning of the season (which I think was sloppy) and the Pam Burkhart arc (which has virtually no Zen, when it really should have.) Adding Zen, and still acting on the premise that these could be feasible scripts for the show, there will naturally be other adjustments, but those were only made on the basis that they had to be to make room for J/H material in these 22-minute episodes.

2. I have to be able to use something from the 3 to 5 rewrites, even if it's only a single line, as a basis for adding Zen to a given episode or run of episodes.

With that out of the way - let's get started!

(And, as with 5-01, I couldn't resist imagining a new credits sequence.)

FF.Net AO3

***

We open on a unique title card, patterned after the logo from THE GODFATHER. “The Godfather Theme” by Nino Rota plays as we cut to:   INT. FORMAN BEDROOM - DAY   DREAM SEQUENCE. The Forman master bedroom, converted to an at-home hospital bed. RED, as Don Corleone, lies in bed, propped up on pillows. Surrounding him are BOB as Tom Hagen, KELSO as Fredo, and HYDE as Sonny. Hyde has SCHATZI in his arms. Everyone is grim-faced and the room is dark, even in the day – very Coppola.   BOB: Don Forman, it is an honor and privilege to receive you in your home in the wake of the heart attack caused by your daughter’s wedding.   Red rolls his eyes, unnoticed by Bob.   BOB (cont’d): While you’ve been away, they locked up that Son of Sam, Al Unser took the Indy 500, and that new movie Grease is such a hoot, boy.   RED: What about the Family?   BOB: Well, that little dame with the mouth has been hiding down at the pool all summer, on account of these two still being after her.   He points to Kelso and Hyde, who shift on their feet.   HYDE: Yeah, but that’s over now. We’re sending Kelso out west to learn the nutcracker business.   KELSO: Nutcracker business? Why would I -   Hyde kicks him in the groin, sending him to the floor.   HYDE: (laughing) Loser.   He sets Schatzi on the bed and crosses to the bedroom door. As soon as he opens it, machine gunfire rips open. Hyde stumbles back into the room, being thrown about by the many bloodless squibs going off, until he falls down on top of Kelso.   Bob and Red briefly glance at the bodies, then return to their conversation.   BOB: And your wife, she’s working double shifts again, on account of you not being able to manage the business.   KITTY, as Mama Corleone in a nurse’s hat, bursts into the room, with a laundry basket under one arm and a pot of soup under the other. She hurries over to Red, kisses him on the forehead, glances down at Hyde and Kelso, looks up to God, and runs out of the room with tears in her eyes, all while spewing a non-stop torrent of obviously fake Italian.   RED: What about my son, Bob? Where’s Eric?   Bob shifts on his feet, looks away. We cut to:   EXT. ITALIAN VILLA – DAY   A picturesque little village in the Sicilian countryside, a lovely image to have on a cheesy backdrop hanging behind the cast. ERIC, as Michael Corleone in his military uniform, and DONNA as Kay stand in the middle of the street, arms around each other’s waists. “Godfather Love Theme” by Nino Rota plays in the background.   DONNA: Eric, are you sure we should be going off to college and seeing the world when your father’s heart attack and our friends’ stupidity leaves the Family vulnerable?   ERIC: That’s my family, Donna. That’s not me. I’m going my own way. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?   CUT TO:   EXT. CITY STREET – DAY   The best New York backlot set available. Old roadsters line the street, steam comes up from the manholes, everyone goes about in hats and coats, and a fruit stand with plenty of oranges is set up on the corner. Red and Bob are at the stand, selecting oranges while Kelso waits for them by a black 1941 Ford.   Shot-for-shot, the shooting of Don Corleone. A gunman steps out from behind a truck. Red notices their approach. He bolts for the car, knocking over the stand and sending oranges spilling into the street, but it’s too late. FEZ, as Sollozzo, sprays him with fire from his handgun.   Slumped down against the car, Red turns around and looks up at Fez.   RED: So... it was the foreigner all along.   FEZ: Seriously? Have you looked around at this dream? You’re Italian, I’m Italian - we’re all foreigners, you cranky bastard!   He fires off one more shot, and Red falls to the ground, dead.   CUT TO:   SPINNING NEWSPAPER. Headline: FORMAN SLAIN.   CUT TO:   EXT. ITALIAN VILLA - DAY   Eric, clutching at the newspaper, with Donna reading over his shoulder. Eric crushes the paper in one hand, bites the knuckles of the other.   ERIC: Oh, Pop. If only I had set aside all my own personal hopes and dreams for my life and stayed at home. If only I hadn’t gone against the Family.   He throws his head to the sky in true melodramatic fashion as we crane up.   ERIC: Why? Why? WHY?   CUT TO:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY   Late morning. The window curtains are drawn, letting in the sunlight, and Jackie’s cot is empty. Eric and Donna are snuggled together in Donna’s bed, still asleep.   Eric stirs, jolts straight up. He takes in where he is, lets out a long sigh. Donna, still groggy from sleep, sits up and puts a hand on his shoulder.   DONNA: Eric, is everything all right?   ERIC: (beat) Yeah.   Eric pats her hand and slides out of bed. He starts to get dressed.   ERIC (cont’d): I gotta go. My folks come home from the hospital today. Hyde and I are picking them up.   Donna’s closet opens. Out steps Fez, all smiles.   FEZ: Mr. Red is coming home?   Eric jumps and Donna pulls the covers up to her chin.   ERIC: Fez?   DONNA: Oh, my God! Did you see anything?   FEZ: Not much. You should really think about a night light.   Donna and Eric both take pillows from the bed and chuck them at Fez, who retreats back into the closet.

MAIN TITLES   INT. VISTA CRUISER – NIGHT   A) The gang out on the road. Eric drives, with Donna next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Jackie, then Fez, then Kelso.   THEME SONG: Hangin’ out...   B) Hyde drives, with Eric in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Donna, and behind Hyde sits Jackie. The girls are leaning forward in their seats, their arms wrapped around the boys’ shoulders.   THEME SONG: Down the street...   C) Kelso drives, with Fez next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits a scowling Red, then Eric, then Bob.   THEME SONG: The same old thing...   D) Red drives, with Kitty in the passenger’s seat, holding Schatzi. Bob sits in the middle of the back seat, hands behind his head.   THEME SONG: We did last week...   E) Fez drives, with Donna next to him and Kelso in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Eric, then Hyde, then Jackie. Donna leans into Fez as the gang sing along.   THEME SONG: Not a thing to do...   F) Jackie drives, with Donna next to her and Kitty in the passenger’s seat.   THEME SONG: But talk to you...   G) Hyde drives, with Eric in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Donna, and behind Hyde sits Jackie. The girls are leaning forward in their seats, their arms wrapped around the boys’ shoulders.   THEME SONG: We’re all alright!   H) Eric drives, with Donna next to him and Hyde in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sits Jackie, then Fez, then Kelso.   THEME SONG: We’re all alright!   I) The creators’ license plate, a 1978 sticker in the corner.   HYDE (v.o.): Hello, Wisconsin!   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   Shortly after the pre-credits scene. Hyde sits at the kitchen table, a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. He has Schatzi in his arms, cuddled close to his face. He picks up a piece of bacon and holds it up for Schatzi to eat.   Eric, Donna (dressed in a bathing suit and dress) and Fez enter through the patio door. They freeze when they see Hyde, and he freezes when he sees them, causing Schatzi to strain to reach the bacon.   Though all three struggle not to laugh, Donna finds her voice first:   DONNA: (to Hyde) Are you feeding and cuddling with a wiener dog?   HYDE: Are you planning to wear a bathing suit to a hospital visit?   ERIC: (to Donna) Oh, please do.   FEZ: Yes, please.   Donna shakes her head and rolls her eyes.   DONNA: I’m going to the pool with Jackie.   HYDE: She choose between me and Kelso yet?   DONNA: I don’t know. But Kelso’s been going down there to show off for her. He’s got a speedo with the Point Place Police Department badge printed on the ass. It’s really disturbing.   Hyde pushes himself to his feet, Schatzi still in his arms.   HYDE: Whatever, man. She thinks I’m gonna wait around all summer ‘cause she can’t choose between me and a guy who once forgot he was allergic to eggs? His head swelled up to five times its normal size. Screw that, man. I’m over her.   Schatzi chooses this time to lick the corner of Hyde’s mouth. Eric chuckles, crosses to Hyde and puts a hand on his shoulder.   ERIC: Hyde, the other day I was down in the basement and went to put on Zeppelin, and I found country music records hidden in the sleeve to Physical Graffiti. You’re not over her.   Fez smirks, crosses to them.   FEZ: (to Hyde) So, you console your loneliness with doggie kisses and country songs, while I am married to Eric’s slutty sister.   HYDE: Yeah, how’s that going?   FEZ: Oh, not great. But I’m pretty sure when she gets back from our honeymoon in Cancun, things will pick up.   ERIC: Laurie went on your honeymoon alone?   FEZ: Oh, no, that would be crazy. She took her friend Carlos along to keep an eye on her. But I paid for both of them, so everyone know who the man is in this deal.   Eric, Donna, and Hyde all share a look.   ERIC: (to Hyde) All right, let’s get going. (to Fez) You stay here. My dad doesn’t want you anywhere near the hospital.   FEZ: Why not? I’m family. I want to support my new American dad after his heart attack.   ERIC: Fez, you’re the one who gave him the heart attack.   HYDE: By marrying his daughter, who’s on your honeymoon with another guy.   FEZ: Oh, no, no, no. Carlos is just like, um... he’s kind of like a – a chaperone. He, uh... (beat) Son of a bitch!   He stomps his foot and pouts, even as Hyde presses Schatzi into his arms. Eric, Hyde, and Donna file out the door.   BUMPER   INT. HOSPITAL - DAY   A reception desk at the hospital. A DOCTOR leads Eric, Red, Kitty, and Hyde up the hallway. Red is in decent shape and rotten mood; same as always, really.   RED: Come on, Kitty. Let’s get the hell out of this weird place. I think some of these nurses are stealing drugs.   The doctor gives Kitty a look.   KITTY: Red, I am a nurse here. (laughs)   RED: I stand by my statement.   DOCTOR: Okay, Mr. Forman, just to be clear: no going to work, no chores, no driving for three months. And let’s not forget the root cause of the problem.   ERIC: Too much rage, right? Yeah, so he probably shouldn’t, like, yell at anyone anymore, right?   DOCTOR: Actually, the reason he ran into trouble is he was holding stuff in.   ERIC: (beat) He was holding stuff in? Okay, I weigh 42 pounds ‘cause of what he let out and – I’m sorry – you’re telling me that, uh, there’s more in there?   Kitty hurries between her husband and son and takes both their arms.   KITTY: (to doctor) No, no, no. He does not weigh 42 pounds. And these two are the best of buddies! (doing Eric) “Hey, Dad, wanna go fishing?” (doing Red) “Sure, son. Let’s hug.” (normal voice) That’s what it’s like at our house! (laughs)   RED: (to doctor) See what I mean about the drugs?   DOCTOR: (to Red) What you need to do is focus on things that make you happy.   ERIC: Okay, but I don’t know where we’re gonna find a boatload of dead commies.   HYDE: (points to Eric, himself) Yeah, but there’s two asses he loves sticking his foot up right here.   Eric nods. Red gives him and Hyde an appraising look as Kitty shakes her head.   CUT TO:   EXT. POOL - DAY   The Point Place public pool, a small and tidy swimming hole surrounded by a chain-link fence. Donna and JACKIE, in a tiny bikini and skirt, sip sodas at a small cable in the corner.   DONNA: Jackie, the summer’s almost over and you haven’t decided between Kelso and Hyde yet.   JACKIE: Why should I rush for them? The sun is out, the air is warm, I’m almost at my most delicious shade of cocoa brown – let that two-timing moron and paranoid hophead wait it out a little longer.   DONNA: Well, Hyde might be done waiting, so you may not have a choice anymore.   Jackie takes her sunglasses off and leans in toward Donna.   JACKIE: What do you mean?   Before Donna can answer, a shadow blocks their sun. It’s Kelso, fresh from the pool, dripping wet in his PPPD speedo.   KELSO: Ladies. Ladies’ bodies. (to Jackie) So, Jackie, what do you think?   He flexes, pushes up his shoulders.   KELSO (cont’d): Yep. Police Academy starts in a week. All this swimming’s getting me into shape.   DONNA: Wouldn’t getting into shape for the police academy mean eating donuts and growing a bad moustache?   KELSO: Oh, I’m growing the bad moustache.   Jackie rolls her eyes, looks around Kelso to Donna.   JACKIE:  So is Mr. Forman home yet?   DONNA: Eric’s picking him up now. I don’t know what they’re gonna do once we’re in Madison. Kitty and Hyde are both working double shifts, but that still doesn’t cover the lost income from Red not working.   JACKIE: Yeah... and what about medical bills? Price Mart offers terrible coverage, and you can forget about any help from the government now that health reform’s stalled.   DONNA: I know, right?   KELSO: Wait, hold up. (to Donna) You said a bunch of sad stuff... (to Jackie) You followed up with some money and health fact stuff... (to Donna) And you said “I know,” which makes me think Jackie used that right, which makes me think she knew what she was talking about.   DONNA: Very good, Kelso. That’s what we call a “conversation.”   KELSO: Well, I know some facts too. Jimmy Carter? He had a peanut farm. And the Dairy Queen down the street is selling half-off peanut buster parfaits today. Now, excuse me as I walk down there to get one – without pants.   He turns his ass Jackie’s way before strolling off. The girls shake their heads.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Welcome home, Red! The family file in through the patio door. Kitty keeps her arms ready to support Red, who looks done with this day already.   KITTY: (to Red) Now, let’s get you upstairs for your nap. (to Eric, Hyde) And boys, he needs quiet, so no shenanigans.   ERIC: Mom, please, we haven’t shenaniganed in about six years.   HYDE: We’ve hooliganed.   ERIC: We’ve no-goodniked.   HYDE: We’ve ne’er done well.   ERIC:  And just last week, we found ourselves rabble-rousing.   RED: Will you shut up?   Eric and Hyde, both laughing, step aside so that Red can go through the door to the living room...   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY   And find Fez standing in front of his chair with a balloon and flowers.   FEZ: Welcome home, Dad!   RED: You. You’ve got a lot of nerve, showing your face around here after what you did to my daughter!   He slowly advances on Fez, who somehow just doesn’t get the danger he’s in.   FEZ: Hey, I did you a favor. That girl’s been passed around this town -   KITTY/ERIC/HYDE: NO!   Eric and Hyde pull Red back as Kitty rushes over to Fez and takes him by the shoulders.   KITTY: Okay. You’ve already given him one heart attack. That’s enough. Now hush.   She gently pushes a pouting Fez down to the couch. Eric crosses to the coffee table and grabs a small bowl full of candy.   ERIC: (to Fez) Hey, look, buddy – raisinets!   Instantly happy once more, Fez takes the candy and chows down.   Kitty hurries back over to Red and leads him to the stairs.   KITTY: (to Red) Okay, okay. Naptime.   She sees him halfway up the staircase, then lets him go the rest of the way on his own as she leans over the railing.   KITTY (cont’d): Oh, and Steven, he has a check-up next week during my shift, so I need you to take him.   HYDE: Mrs. Forman, I told you, I’m working then.   KITTY: Oh, that’s right. Eric, could you -   ERIC: No, Mom. I’m not gonna be here, remember? I’m moving away.   KITTY: (beat) Oh, so you’re still going?   ERIC: Yes, I’m still going. It’s college. I have to register for classes.   KITTY: Fine.   ERIC: Mom, I gotta get out of here.   KITTY: (short) Fine!   ERIC: Great.   KITTY: Great!   ERIC: Fine!   Kitty turns away and heads up the stairs. Eric scoffs, points after her and looks to Hyde, “can you believe that?” Hyde offers a shrug, “what can you do?”   The front door opens. In walks LAURIE, suitcase in hand. She sets it down by the couch and crosses to the boys.   LAURIE: (to Eric) Hey, little brother. (to Hyde) Hey, orphan. (to Fez) Hey, hubby.   Fez stands.   FEZ: Don’t “hubby” me! I’m mad at you.   LAURIE: Aww. But I brought you a souvenir.   She pulls a crystal shot glass from her purse and presents it to Fez.   ERIC: Oh, look, Fez, a genuine Cancun shot glass still sticky with tequila.   FEZ: (to Laurie) Aww, you shouldn’t have.   LAURIE: No biggie. Some guy left it in my room.   She struts her way into the kitchen.   CUT TO:   INT. HUB - EVENING   A modest evening. “You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore plays on the jukebox. At a center table, Jackie sits alone, reading a newspaper. Kelso, in a leather jacket and a PPPD T-shirt, enters, struts over to her table and leans on the back of an empty chair.   Jackie barely glances over her paper to look at him, which Kelso takes for her checking him out.   KELSO: Yep. Just picked up the shirt today. It’s a tight fit, so it really shows off all that swimming I’ve been doing.   He makes a show of sliding his jacket off and showing his arms before sitting down. Only then does he notice what Jackie’s up to.   KELSO (cont’d): Are you reading a newspaper?   JACKIE: Yeah.   KELSO: Are you reading the news part of a newspaper?   Jackie raises her eyebrows at him.   JACKIE: That is where the news is, Michael.   KELSO: Yeah, but since when do you read it?   JACKIE: Since I decided to keep up with interesting things going on in the world.   She disappears back behind her paper.   Kelso’s eyes dart back and forth; he’s not used to this from Jackie. He snatches one of the other sections from the table and struggles to get it open and propped up before him in imitation of her.   KELSO: Well, here’s something interesting – Snoopy is playing in a tennis tournament.   Jackie lets out a long breath, refusing to meet Kelso’s stare and smirk.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   The next morning. Kitty is at the stovetop in her somewhat untidy nurse’s uniform, hastily putting together breakfast plates – one with eggs and bacon, one with eggs and pancakes, and one with egg whites and lean ham.   Hyde enters through the patio door in his half-open chef’s jacket, a small pharmacy bag in hand. He drops more than sets it on the counter.   HYDE: Here’s Red’s heart medication, Mrs. Forman.   He lets out a big yawn. Kitty presses a cup of coffee into his hands. He nods in appreciation, takes out a wad of bills from his pants pocket, and throws it on the stovetop. Kitty takes it and pockets it.   KITTY: Thank you, honey. And I’ll get this money put into your savings account on my way home.   HYDE: Mrs. Forman, I’ve told you I don’t need a savings account. Just pay a bill.   Of course, this is the moment when Eric walks in from the living room.   ERIC: “Pay a bill?” (to Kitty) Mom, what does he mean? Is money that tight?   KITTY: It’s nothing.   ERIC: No, ‘cause... I mean, Donna and I are both working, so if you need to take a little out of my college fund -   KITTY: Listen, both of you – the money in those accounts is for you. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.   She takes the pancake plate and passes it to Eric.   KITTY (cont’d): You just eat your breakfast.   Eric examines his plate.   ERIC: Chocolate-chip caramel whipped cream pancakes? Mom, you’re not gonna bribe me into staying home from school with super sweet breakfast food. (checks the plate) And where are the sprinkles?   KITTY: No, no, the pancakes are an apology. I overreacted before. Of course, you have to go to school.   ERIC: So... that’s it? No guilt?   KITTY: That’s right. Now, I’m late for work. (to Hyde) I’ll pick up the dry cleaning and drop off the packages at the post office. You make sure Red eats his breakfast, and only his breakfast – egg whites and heart-healthy ham. Oh, and remember you promised to give Schatzi his bath.   She pats Hyde’s cheek and hurries out the door.   Hyde looks down at the plate meant for Red, pointedly avoiding Eric’s smirk.   ERIC: Now you’re bathing our wiener dog?   HYDE: (beat) He keeps coming down to the basement. His fur-stink’s become incriminating evidence.   Red enters from the living room. Eric crosses to the kitchen table as Hyde presses Red’s breakfast into his hands.   HYDE (cont’d): Here you go, Red.   Red looks down at his meal.   RED: Where’s the yellow part of these eggs? That’s the baby bird. That’s the part I want to eat.   Hyde crosses his arms and shakes his head, while Eric chuckles and digs into his breakfast.   CUT TO:   INT. HUB – DAY   On a slow afternoon, Donna and Jackie enjoy lunch at a center table.   DONNA: Wow, Jackie. You’ve really been showing Kelso the cold shoulder.   JACKIE: Well, he deserves it. I told him I needed the summer to think things over, and he’s been after me the whole time.   DONNA: I guess that means you choose Hyde.   JACKIE: No! I told him I needed the summer to think things over, and he hasn’t spoken to me that whole time! I am so over them both.   Kelso enters, still in his police shirt and jacket. He strolls over to the girls’ table, grabs at the badge logo printed on his shirt, and stretches it out as if it were a real badge.   KELSO: Ladies. You have the right to remain foxy.   Donna shakes her head. Jackie rolls her eyes, stands, and pushes past Kelso on her way out the door.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   That night. Donna and Eric sit close on the couch, going through college materials.   ERIC: Oh, my God, Donna. Madison has a course called “The Social Significance of Jedi Culture.”   He makes a show of gaping in delight as Donna rolls her eyes.   Kitty, still in nurse’s uniform, comes down the stairs with an entry laundry basket. She crosses to the dryer and begins unloading it.   ERIC (cont’d): Mom, why are you doing laundry? It’s almost midnight.   KITTY: Well, with the double shift, this is the only time I have to do it.   Eric sighs. He sets down the brochure and stands.   ERIC: Okay, don’t do this.   KITTY: Do what?   ERIC: Come down here in the middle of the night, doing laundry, looking like hell -   KITTY: Oh, excuse me!   ERIC: No, I – I’m just saying, you’re trying to make me feel guilty for not leaving, and it’s not gonna work. I can’t stay here, okay? I have to go off and live my life. I deserve that! Mom, I deserve a chance!   KITTY: Okay, okay. No need to use your squeaky voice. I understand that you have to leave. I have bigger things to worry about than making you feel guilty.   She gathers up the laundry and heads back up the stairs.   Donna looks up at Eric, who looks after his mom.   DONNA: Eric, if you feel like you need to stay... I mean, we can talk about -   ERIC: No! No.   He sits back down.   ERIC (cont’d): We’re leaving next week and that’s final.   DONNA: Okay.   They no sooner turn back to the brochure than the basement door opens and Red steps in, wearing pajamas and bathrobe. He has a plate in his hands, with toast that he dips into very runny egg yolks.   RED: (to Eric) Yeah. It’s egg yolks. And I don’t care if you tell your mother. She doesn’t scare me.   KITTY (v.o.): Eric, I almost forgot...   Red tosses the toast aside, drops the plate, and high tails it back up the outside stairwell.   CUT TO:   INT. HALLWAY – DAY   The next day. The upstairs hall of the Pinciotti house. Kelso strolls up to Donna and Jackie’s bedroom door. He’s about to knock when he notices the sounds coming from inside – “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” by Led Zeppelin, and sniffling. Quietly, he opens the door, and we cut to:   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM - DAY   Kelso finds Jackie curled up on the end of her cot. Her arms and legs are wrapped around a pillow stuffed inside a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and a tissue is in her hands. Tears are in her eyes.   Kelso slowly crosses over to Donna’s bed. He points to the record player.   KELSO: That’s Zeppelin. (points to pillow) That’s a Zeppelin shirt. That’s Hyde’s Zeppelin shirt, his favorite one. I know ‘cause one time I tried to use it to clean out a paintbrush. He kicked my ass, stole my shirt, and made me use it instead.   A fresh sob wells up from Jackie’s throat. She turns around so her back is to Kelso.   KELSO (cont’d): You still love him, don’t you? There was never really a choice, was there?   JACKIE: What do you want, Michael?   KELSO: (beat)  Nothing. Look, Jackie... (sits) I know I’ve been with a lot of girls, but you’re the only real serious girlfriend I’ve ever had, and you’ll always be special to me. When I found out you and Hyde were together, I couldn’t believe I’d really lost you for good. And all I could think about was getting you back. But seeing you this summer... I mean, after being with Hyde, and then on your own, you’ve changed. You’re more thoughtful, more well-read – I think you’ve become a complicated woman. And I don’t want none of that.   Jackie turns around just enough to glare at Kelso.   KELSO (cont’d): But I think Hyde still does. And you obviously want him. And you should, because you two were good for each other. Not like us. So... so you don’t have to worry about me chasing you anymore.   Jackie turns all the way around.   JACKIE: Michael, do you mean that?   KELSO:  Yeah. I release you.   He holds his hands out in front of him and mimes a bird’s wings flapping.   KELSO (cont’d): Fly, little bird. Fly, fly away!   He spreads his hands out, looks up, and makes a noise that sounds something like an object getting caught in a ceiling fan.   KELSO (cont’d): (to Jackie) That was you.   Jackie offers a weak chuckle and dabs at her eyes.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - NIGHT   Later that night. Eric and Donna are on the couch again, watching TV. The basement door flies open and Hyde staggers in. His clothes are dirty and torn, there are bite marks on his arm and claw scrapes on his shirt, and Schatzi shakes in his arms.   Eric and Donna both stand.   DONNA: What the hell happened?   HYDE: I was taking Schatzi for a walk, and we got to the corner, and you know the Anderson house there, with the Great Dane? He got out of the yard.   ERIC: Oh, my God. He went for Schatzi?   HYDE: No, he went for me. Schatzi bit the bastard in the groin and then tore his ear and sent him running. It was so badass.   Hyde sets Schatzi down. He struggles to stand back up straight.   ERIC: Man, are you okay?   HYDE: I’m fine. I’ve gotta get ready for my shift, but before that, I need to find that doggie thyroid crap for your little wiener dog.   DONNA: What is with you and animals now? When did you get so knowledgeable on pet care?   HYDE: I got roped into helping with the cat when me and Jackie were...   He trails off; he can’t finish the thought. He drops down into the lawn chair and stairs blankly down at the coffee table.   DONNA: You’re not over her, are you?   Hyde doesn’t answer.   ERIC: You still love her, don’t you? (to Donna) Look at him. So choked up he can’t even speak.   Hyde’s throat pulses. He tugs at the top of his T-shirt.   DONNA: More like he can’t even swallow.   Hyde points to her, “bingo.”   DONNA (cont’d): Okay... Hyde, we’ll take care of Schatzi’s thyroid. Why don’t you go take care of the rabies shot?   Hyde points again, nods, and scrambles to his feet and back out the door.   He’s no sooner gone than Kitty comes downstairs with another empty laundry basket. She goes straight to the dryer and unloads it.   ERIC: Mom, you’re still behind on laundry?   KITTY: Oh, I sat down just to rest my feet for a few minutes when I got home and – and before you know it, I... (checks watch) Oh, God, I’m late for work.   ERIC: You’re working tonight? (points to door) Hyde’s working tonight? You both worked during the day.   KITTY: Well, honey, nights can be our busiest time. Steven makes people a big, salty dinner, and then they come my way. (laughs) Now, there’s food in the... oh, who am I kidding? There’s no food!   She hands Eric the laundry basket and scrambles back up the stairs.   Eric walks over to the deep freeze. He sets the laundry down on it, leans against the basket. He whirls around to face Donna.   ERIC: They can’t do this to me. They cannot do this to me. I gotta get out of here. Of all the people in the history of the world that have ever had to get anywhere, it is me having to get the hell out of here! I have to go! (beat) I have to stay.   He drops down onto the couch.   ERIC (cont’d): Donna, I’m sorry.   Donna sits next to him.   DONNA: Sorry? Eric, I think it’s amazing that you’d do that for your family.   They kiss.   DONNA (cont’d): And, you know, we’ll see each other on weekends.   ERIC: Oh, so you’re still going?   DONNA: Well... yeah, I mean... yeah.   ERIC: Yeah. No. Of course.   DONNA: Oh, come on. I think I know something that might make you feel better.   She leans in to kiss him again. Before she can get things going, though, Eric puts a hand on her knee.   ERIC: Hey, um... can we just, like... could we just sit for a while?   DONNA: Yeah, sure.   She scoots in closer to him. He moves his hand up to her arm, and puts his other arm around her shoulders. They lean their heads against each other and look down at their college brochures on the coffee table.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   EXT. STAIRWELL – NIGHT   Another night. Eric and Donna descend the stairwell. They pause when they hear “Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me” by Mac Davis coming from behind the door.   ERIC: Uh-oh. Country. Hyde’s sad music.   Hesitating, Donna opens the door. A wall of smoke rushes out to meet them, as we cut to:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   Eric and Donna step into a basement full of diffuse smoke. Hyde sits in his chair with Schatzi in his arms. He’s cackling like a loon, slapping at his knee and swaying in his seat. Snacks of all kinds litter the coffee table.   HYDE: (through laughter) Hey, Forman!   He waves. Eric and Donna give reluctant waves back.   ERIC: So, Hyde... how’s it going, buddy?   HYDE: (laughing) I’m freakin’ miserable, man!   A fresh wave of laughter comes on as he swipes a piece of salami from the coffee table and holds it up for Schatzi.   END.

[eddieeatsass]

Hanzier smut? Richie hot n bothered, so he gets Mike hot n bothered and rides him?? ( if ur still taking requests...) Because bottom Richie rights

BOTTOM RICHIE RIGHTS!!! I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you’re happy with the results. Read on AO3 or below:

Mike slowly felt himself drift into consciousness, awarenesscoming back to his senses as he blinked sleep out of his eyes. He felt next tohim for his warm-bodied companion but found empty rustled sheets instead. Mikedecided to take another moment before getting out of bed to search for hisboyfriend.

When he finally padded down the hallway, lit up by earlymorning sun that covered his skin in waves, he found the kitchen and livingroom empty as well. He busied himself with making coffee, stretching himselfout as the coffee pot filled drip by drip.

Yesterday had been exhausting, leaving his muscles feelingstiff from sleeping so deeply after such a long day. Him and Richie had arrivedat the beach house well into the evening, after a day full of travelling.They’d ordered a mediocre pizza before passing out in uncomfortable positionsthat they’d seemingly held all night, if the rigidity in Mike’s limbs wasanything to go by.

Once the coffee was done, he poured himself a cup and madehis way towards the back door, having no doubt where he’d find Richie.

 Richie was a capital B beach bum. He got restless anytime hewas away from the water for too long. Something about the sand between his toesseemed to ground him, so when Mike had suggested that they get a summer beachhouse, it had earned him tons of gratitude from his excited partner.

This was the third year they’d spent their summer here sincebuying it, and Mike was used to Richie’s routine by now. Although usually a bedbug, Richie transformed into a morning bird every time they visited. He’d wakeup at the crack of dawn, as if the sun itself had reached down and shook himawake, and he’d be in the sand before he’d even grabbed breakfast. Thebeautiful thing about having a private beach was that Richie never had to worryabout looking unkempt, so he never bothered with looking presentable thosemornings.

As he’d expected, Mike spotted Richie wadding around in thewater, curly hair dripping over his shoulders and ivory chest reflecting thesun. Mike would have to grill him about wearing sunscreen later; also a routinethey’d fallen into each year.

Mike leaned against the door frame, holding his cup to hischest as he watched the goofy grin on his lover’s face expand, and then fall ashe got knocked over by a wave.

 Mike waited until he was done his coffee to actually bravethe salty air and scorching sand, wincing for a moment when the sun hit hisgolden eyes, until they adjusted to the brightness. He slid the patio doorclosed behind him and walked down the steps leading him to the beach.

It didn’t take long before Richie noticed him, grinreturning as he waved wildly over his head as if Mike might not be able to spotthe only other person in the vicinity. He smiled, returning the gesture, beforesettling down into one of the reclining beach chairs they’d set out.

Richie came traipsing out of the water, a little pep in hisstep from a morning in his happiest place. He was wearing something that Mikehad never seen before, and he had to hold himself back from laughing at thesight of a tight leopard print speedo barely covering Richie’s junk.

“Good mooooorning Mikey!” Richie greeted, plopping down intoMike’s lap without warning. Mike let out a little oof before settlinghis arms around Richie’s waist and pulling him close, complaininglightheartedly about Richie’s wet butt soaking his boxers in ocean water.

“What are you wearing?” Mike asked, cocking one eyebrow andsmirking down at the offending item.

“It’s a speedo!” Richie defended, snapping the waistline againsthis skin for emphasis.

“Since when do you wear speedos?”

“What, a man can’t look good for his boyfriend?” Richiewiggled in his spot, rubbing up against Mike very deliberately. Mike’s hold onRichie tightened warningly and Richie stopped moving.

“You always look good; I just didn’t know speedos were yourthing.”

“Well. Now they are.” Richie said decidedly. “Besides, youlike it, don’t lie.” Richie squirmed in Mike’s lap once again, causing Mike tostill his hands on his mischievous boyfriend’s hips.

“Are you trying to give me a boner on the beach?”Mike asked accusingly.

“Mmmmmmmaybe.” Richie looked up at Mike through thick blacklashes, batting them to feign innocence.

“At least let a man have breakfast first.”

“But I’ve been waiting for you all morning.” Richie moaned.

The spot in Mike’s heart that belonged to Richie thumped alittle louder, drowning out the common sense he was trying to hold on to. Therewas only so much he could do when Richie spoke to him with such desire anddepravity.

“All right, get that little ass inside then.” Mike crumbledeasily, slapping Richie’s ass playfully in a gesture to get him moving.

“Mmmm- too far.” Richie mumbled, beginning to nose at thecolumn of Mike’s neck.

Mike laughed a little incredulously, deciding to humorRichie for a moment.

“So, what, we’re just gonna give our neighbors a show?”

“They wouldn’t complain.” Richie teased, his light kissesturning into nips that had Mike’s blood pressure rising.

“Richie…” Mike warned, beginning to feel himself stir in hisboxers.

“Come on Mike, I didn’t get off at all yesterday.” Richiewhined, the sound, unfortunately, only adding to Mike’s growing problem.

“We were travelling-”

“If someone hadn’t objected to joining the mile-high club, Iwouldn’t be so riled up-”

“I didn’t want to start our vacation with us getting introuble-”

“We wouldn’t have gotten in trouble-”

“You’re getting yourself in a lot of trouble right now withthat mouth-”

“Oh, sorry for missing my boyfriend’s cock-”

“Fine.” Mike gripped the back of Richie’s neck, pulling himinches from his mouth, Mike’s lips ghosting his. “You want me to fuck you onthis beach, right out in the open where everyone can see what a desperate cockslut you are?”

Richie’s eyes were wide, shock written on his features. Heclearly wasn’t expecting Mike to give in so quickly, but quite honestly, Mikedidn’t have much fight in him when his dick was throbbing.

It took a slight jolt from Mike to remind Richie to answer,and then he was shaking his head eagerly.

“And what do you expect me to stretch you out with? Oceanwater?” Mike prodded, the slight condescension causing a flush to Richie’scheeks.

“No, I-”

“You have 30 seconds to get the lube or you have to stretchyourself out.” Mike deadpanned, the inklings of a smirk twitching at the cornerof his lip. Richie loved it when Mike got authoritative.

It didn’t take long before Richie was stumbling to his feet,trying to beat the traction of the sand as he ran towards their beach house.Mike counted in his head, listening intently for the sound of padding footstepsexiting the house again. When they finally did, Mike was up to 38 seconds, buthe chose to keep that to himself.

 He heard a tumbling and whirled his head around to see Richielosing his footing on the stairs, his body slipping horizontal as his hand heldon to the rail to keep him from fully falling. Mike noted the speedo, pulledhaphazardly around Richie’s knees, and guessed that the culprit of hisdownfall.

“Someone’s eager.” Mike noted, as Richie righted himself andtook the time to pull his speedo the rest of the way down, stepping out of itcarefully before resuming his sprint towards Mike.

Richie came to an ungraceful halt in front of Mike,thrusting the lube out with a triumphant smile, his breathing labored fromtrying to beat the clock.

Richie’s cock looked painfully hard, and Mike wondered ifgoing one day without fucking had always affected Richie this way, or if it wasjust since they’d gotten together. Mike’s ego would like to believe the latter.

“Alright, let’s get you satiated before some poor sap has tolook out their window only to be blinded by your pale ass.” Mike crooked hisfinger in a come-hither motion.

“They can admire my pale ass all they want, as longas you’re the one fucking it.” Richie responded without missing a beat,climbing back into Mike’s lap.

Mike laughed along with Richie, giggling into each other’smouths with a bliss that Mike only ever felt around the love of his life. Itwas a carefree laugh with no worries hiding behind closed doors or secrets hidingunder floorboards. They were as raw and open with each other as they possiblycould be, in a way that Mike hadn’t felt in any of his relationships outsidethe other Losers. He felt grateful that the world had allowed him to fall inlove with one of his best friends.

It only took a few minutes of kissing for Richie to getimpatient, tugging on Mike’s hand and trying to guide him where he wanted him.

“Please, Mike, just-” Richie panted against Mike’s lips, hisvoice breathy with need and cutting off midsentence.

“What, you want me to go in there dry after you went to allthe trouble to grab the lube?” Mike chuckled deeply, reminding Richie that hewas, in fact, holding the lube hostage in one tight-knuckled hand.

“Oh, fuck- yeah here.” Richie eagerly popped the cap on thebottle and squeezed about half its contents into Mike’s awaiting hand. It oozedthrough Mike’s fingers and down to his wrist as Mike’s shocked eyes flittedback and forth from the massacre in his hand to Richie’s face.

“Well jeez, think that’s enough, Rich?”

Richie made a noise deep in his throat that sounded bothneedy and apologetic all at once. As if he was sorry, but not really thatsorry.

With enough lube to drown a man, Mike had no problemslipping the first finger in. The others took a little more time, but withinminutes Mike had four of his fingers thrusting in and out of Richie, theexcessive lube making a lewd squelching noise that made Mike blush from top tobottom.

“Mikey, I can’t wait any longer, please-”

The switch from fingers to cock was effortless, Richie’sbody stretching to accommodate the intrusion like the well-trained boy he was.He slid down Mike’s length with a heady moan that crawled into Mike’s gut andignited the coil that was already pulling taut.

“I’ve got you.” Mike wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist,the action made easy by how tiny Richie was compared to him. Mike’s hand alonealmost engulfed Richie’s entire back, eclipsing the pale skin with dark umber.

Richie melted above him, his muscles relaxing under Mike’s holdand the familiar stretch of his hole.

 Over the years, they’d discovered that Richie took to dickthe way others took to chocolate, or ice cream; cock was his comfort food. WhenRichie was nestled around Mike was when he was happiest, and Mike sometimesforgot how stressed Richie could get without his fill. Their trip really hadtaken its toll on him.

“Is that better, baby?” Mike asked gently, rolling his hipsand elating at the content mewl he got in response.

“Mmm.” Richie hunched over slightly so he could set his headon Mike’s shoulder, kissing his neck lazily as he began bouncing shallowly inplace. Mike let his hands trail down the length of Richie’s back, settling onthe globes of his ass and squeezing hard enough to leave crescent moons in hiswake.

Richie responded with a slight increase to his thrusts, butnot enough to satisfy Mike’s pulsing need.

“Are you gonna pleasure yourself on my cock, or just playaround with it a little?” Mike teased, nudging Richie’s forehead with his chinso he was forced to look up and meet Mike’s wanting eyes.

Richie gazed at him through a shadow of lashes, innocenceand deviance battling behind his eyes. Mike could tell Richie was trying todecide which response he wanted to give; whether he wanted to comply, or tease.

Richie straightened back up, placing his hands on Mike’schest for stability as he peered down at him, decision made and determined.

Locking eyes with Mike, Richie tensed his thighs and raisedhimself up until just the crown of Mike’s head was settled against Richie’srim. Mike’s lungs seized up in anticipation, before Richie was baring down andpunching the air right out of him, along with a drawn-out groan.

“So good for me.” Mike crooned, watching as Richie repeatedthe motion again. “So beautiful like this.”

Mike’s hands moved to Richie’s thighs, surveying the fadingmarks he’d left there a few days ago. He pressed down on one, noticing how itblossomed around his finger and caused Richie to let out a little gasp.

“Wanna mark you up like this again.” Mike said absently.

“Please.” Richie begged wantonly.

If it was possible to get his mouth on those thighs andstill fuck into him, Mike would have done so in a heartbeat. But as it was, he wasnot a contortionist, so he settled for putting it on the list for later.

 They settled on a brisk but relaxed pace, letting themselvesenjoy the languid thrusts and the thrill that rushed under their skin each timethey remembered they were out in the open.

Mike ran his hands back up Richie’s body, taking his time totrace every curve and dip and crevice along the way. He payed extra attentionto Richie’s nipples, grinning when it caused Richie to arch his back furtherand turn his head towards the sky.

Once Richie was red chested and begging for release, alreadywound so tight even though they’d only been at it for a few minutes, Mike lethis hands trail the rest of the way towards their destination. Thick fingersthreaded through black hair, which reflected in shades of brown and bluedepending on how the sun chose to illuminate it. Richie’s hair was one of Mike’sfavorite parts of his appearance, though it was tough competition if he wasbeing honest. He loved everything about Richie, but there was something especiallyappealing about the way those soft curls would tighten around his fingers, caginghim in as if they had a life of their own and never wanted to let him go.

In response, Richie’s hands darted into Mike’s own hair,which had been grown out since their younger years, and was now pulled into abun atop his head. Mike had voluptuous curls of his own, but the sides and napeof his neck were all shorn, leaving the natural curls atop his head the main focalpoint. Richie had loved every hair style Mike had worn over the years, but thisone was by far his favorite, and he was vocal about it, too.

“God, you’re so sexy Mikey-” Richie breathed, eyes liddedand already looking fucked out of his mind. He absently pulled off the elasticthat held Mike’s hair in place, and dug his fingernails deep into his scalp,watching as the curls cascaded down to frame Mike’s face.

Mike pulled him in close, leaning their foreheads against oneanother, and settling his gaze where they were connected. He watched intentlyas Richie continued to grind up and down, slowly squeezing the life out of Mike’scock.

He couldn’t help but grind his hips, imagining himself stirringRichie’s insides around. And if Richie’s reaction was anything to go by, itprobably felt fairly similar. Moans were dripping out of his mouth like saliva,getting higher and higher pitched as Mike continued his ministrations.

Mike pistoned his hips up once, experimentally, and receiveda resounding response.

“Daddy! Daddy- fuck- oh my god-” Richie’s hipsslapped down to meet Mike’s next thrust, his cheeks now marked with tearstreaks that Mike wanted to lick off. Richie never looked as good as he didwhen he was wrecked like this.

Mike continued to fuck up into him, leaning in and kissingRichie’s forehead, his eyebrow, his temple. Their mouths intermingled as theyboth labored for breath and struggled to keep their pace.

“Fuck… look at you, princess.” Mike whispered against Richie’slips

Richie keened at the use of the nickname, his entire bodyseizing up as he crested over the edge. Mike continued to fuck him through his climax,his touch gentle but his thrusts rough.

Once Richie finally stopped spilling out onto Mike’sstomach, aftershocks mimicking the waves behind them, Mike hit his ownthreshold.

Richie was pliant as Mike fucked up into him. He knew Richiewas probably experiencing overstimulation, but he didn’t make a peep, lettingMike ride out his own orgasm for as long as he needed to.

 It was a long time before either of them moved again. The warmsun had a way of lulling them into even deeper of a post-coital bliss than usual.It wasn’t until a seagull squawked nearby that they were brought back to reality.

Mike stretched his arms up above his head, smiling down atRichie as he nuzzled further into Mike’s chest. By now he’d completely softenedinside Richie, and their stomachs were sticking together like someone hadpoured glue between them. He’d have to get them to a shower before Richie triedto prance back into the Ocean and claim it was ‘good enough’.

The seagull squawked again, sounding closer now and almost…human like. Now that Mike thought about it, it didn’t sound all that much likethe seagulls they were used to. He swivelled around as much as he could with anotherfull-grown man laying on his body and caught sight of the very-much-not-a-seagulltrampling towards them.

“Fuck! Richie, get up!” Mike scrambled to stand on his ownfeet, hissing slightly as he slipped out of Richie’s tight heat and suddenly feltmuch more exposed than he’d like.

“What’s going on- OH FUCK.” Richie stumbled backwards a few stepsbefore homing in on the fast approaching threat that had caused Mike’sreaction.

A few meters away, holding a sandal threateningly in herraised hand and a scowl on her face, was a woman who was speaking in spurts of Spanishand broken English. Richie had taken Spanish in high school, and although he didn’tremember much, he’d prided himself on learning every Spanish swear word therewas; and this woman seemed to know them all.

Richie panicked, turning around in a circle and searchingthe sand as if he could find a way to hide himself, maybe build a quick sandcastle and crown himself king. All may enter except this lady.

Mike, being the rational one as always, grabbed Richie’swrist before he started booking it back towards the beach house.

As they reached the steps, Richie realized they’d left theirlube behind, and high on adrenaline and panic, suddenly it seemed like the mostimportant possession he’d ever owned.

“THE LUBE!” Richie shouted to Mike, tearing his arm from Mike’sgrasp.

“Richie, leave it!” Mike shouted back, eyeing the woman whowas still storming towards them, now yelling words that he didn’t need to speakSpanish to understand.

“No one left behind, Michael!” Richie ran back towards thechair, slipping down on to his side and sliding along the ground like he’d seenBill do a million times in his baseball games. He felt the sand dig into his bareflesh and immediately regretted the decision, but he had no time to do anythingbut grab the bottle and run.

So, he did just that, kicking sand up behind him as he triedto move as quickly as possible. Ahead of him, Mike was holding the patio dooropen for him, anxiously ushering him forward as if it had the magic ability to makeRichie faster.

When he finally reached the stairs for the second time, Richiefelt something hard hit his back. He kept moving, his rapid heartbeat drowningout the yelling to the right of him.

He reached the top step, took a giant leap, and landedinside the beach house on wobbling feet. He turned back towards the door whichMike was sliding shut and locking into place, and he raised his hands in triumph.

Staring back at him from the bottom of their stairs, pickingup the sandal she’d thrown at Richie, was the middle-aged woman who had all butdamned them to hell. She was glowering in fury at the two younger men, the gripon her sandal strong enough to bend it nearly in half.

Richie lowered his arms, realizing it probably looked likehe was flashing her on purpose. He mouthed a guilty ‘sorry’ as Mike drew the blindsshut.

“Well… that was an experience.” Mike whispered, as if worriedthe angry woman might have superhuman hearing.

“Yeah, I’m gonna be digging sand out of my ass crack fordays.” Richie responded, turning and presenting his backside to Mike. The lube thatcoated his ass and upper thighs had acted as an adhesive for the sand he’drolled in, leaving him absolutely caked in it. At the sight, Mike couldn’t helpbut burst out laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“Alright, let’s get you a shower.” He chuckled,side-stepping around his sandy boyfriend and only getting close enough to leavea peck against Richie’s forehead before was disappearing down the hall towardsthe bathroom.

Richie trailed after him, leaving a literaltrail of sand in his wake.

[thehamsterscagecouk]

That Day We Hung Out With Some Car Bloke

THUMP… [what was that?]… BEEEEEEP… I’d accidentally leant on the horn whilst peering out to see what had happened. Buggar. Not the smoothest arrival.

We’d driven over a cattle grid, or more specifically, a lump of cast iron sticking out the middle of it. In one way or another, we had arrived at the Hammond household. “I took the front off a Porsche on that”, Richard told us, mercifully.

It’s true by the way, that video, we didn’t know what we were going to do with the collaboration thing… and that was kind of the point. No over-complicated shoots; just a chance to get down to brass tacks and dig into the wheres and whys of being a car or bike person. Trying our best not to fan-girl our way through the day, we arrived with camera batteries charged and heads full of questions.

Richard showed us through to the bike barn. Inside was the warm smell of oil and polish. The Lagonda sat proudly - surrounded by swathes of bikes from the 20s, 50s, right up to 90s carbon fibre ‘straddle-me’ rockets. A full size Airfix-style template made from a Honda Cub served as the bannister for the mezzanine floor, a resin ‘rug’ painted below, both strokes of beer-fuelled artistic genius.

Outside, each garage was a tease for what lay within. One set of wooden doors creaked open. After a bit of spluttering, Oliver wheezed into life with a quick clear of the throat before running smooth as ever - his exhaust pipe blowing raspberries at us as if to say, ‘look, it’s me, and I’m back!’

We piled in and trundled off to find some charming local roads. But first… Fuel.

Visiting a petrol station with Richard Hammond and Oliver is an interesting affair. Watching the penny drop as people realise who and what has just pulled up to the pump; it’s like watching corn popping in a pan. It was only when a man wielded an iPhone for a selfie (and I took it) that I was forced to really pinch myself. The thing is, Richard is a bloody nice guy. For us, all of the jesusf*ingchristit’srichardf*inghammond had gone in the first five minutes of meeting him. We were just three car people, driving around, talking about cars.

SO WHAT’S OLIVER ACTUALLY LIKE IN PERSON?

Well, he’s quite boxy, oddly proportioned but with good clean lines. He also has very small wheels (12x5” I think) and there’s no passenger seatbelt in the front. This becomes interesting when combined with slippery vinyl and quite primitive suspension, especially when you’re a bit of a lump like me. The speedo is like a cartoon thermometer - a red line that grows excitedly with every added mile-per-hour. The entire car just feels light and airy, a happy retro-summer vibe. Honestly, Oliver is just a 1963 Opel Kadett - only this one just happens to have starred in the largest TV show… in the world.

The true story behind Oliver goes beyond that road trip on Top Gear though, beyond a love for old stuff and into the real reason why Richard Hammond loves cars in the first place:

RICHARD   “I’m a car person before I’m a journalist. It’s come together for me because I’m a presenter and combining that with my biggest passion, which is cars and motorcycles, is perfect.”

TOM   Your collection is quite…

RICHARD   … You’re gonna say eclectic

TOM   Yeah I was - you must have a huge library of experience with cars?

RICHARD   “Yeah, but I think I’m still very childish about it, which I view as a good thing. My collection of cars and bikes - each and every one of them is something that matters to me. They’re my toys, and when you’re a kid your toy box has all your favourite toys. It might be an action man, an Evel Knievel bike, a box of Lego or an Etch-A-Sketch. Now, they’re all completely different but you love them all each and individually, and it’s the same with my cars and bikes.

TOM   The connection you’ve got with Oliver - is it something that you can or can’t explain?

RICHARD   “I can’t explain it. I really can’t, but I’m not gonna say there’s anything mystical or magical about it, I just really really like the car and have done since moment one!”

OTHER TOM   *muffled fumbling with door*

RICHARD   “Give it a good wallop! … He responds well to that treatment.”

[door slams]

TOM   It was interesting what you said earlier, he’s not just a token from Africa…

RICHARD   …“No, no he’s a car in his own right. Yeah ok I found him in Africa but that was just where he was, he could equally have been in Spain, Birmingham, America, wherever, it doesn’t matter… It still makes me smile and think ‘oh funny little thing’ as I drive around here as well as anywhere else. I’m still captivated by the business moving from one place to another without my legs doing all the work, I’ve never got past that. Take that GTR I drove home in…”

Richard points at an orange press Nissan GTR posing on the driveway.

“…It’s brilliant, it’s an amazing machine. It turns the business of moving from one place to another into something else entirely. With Oliver, simply you get in, you sit down in one place, move some controls about and you get out in another place. That’s what reconnects you with what it was when you were six - watching your Mum or your Dad drive and thinking ‘God I wanna be able to do that!’ I didn’t grow up wanting to be a racing driver, I grew up wanting to be able to drive

OM   Why?

RICHARD   “It’s primal. I’m standing here as an animal thinking, ‘What’s going on over the other side of that hill […] and that’s all there is on offer in Oliver, that’s all that car can do. It’s not quick, doesn’t corner well, doesn’t make you look cool, you can’t use it to tell the world how rich you are, it sends no powerful signals beyond: ‘I was here, and now I’m gonna go over there.”

[A Discovery pulls into the driveway]

RICHARD   “My wife’s gonna get cross that we’re blocking the driveway taking pictures… Although they are back with lunch”

We sat on the garden bench, picnicking, a million miles away from anywhere. We shared our enthusiasm for the new Porsche Sport-Turismo whilst a Collie eyed up our food from the conservatory.

Richard’s collection is a real spread: from the Mr Toad style Lagonda (as he calls it) to the Porsche GT3RS or trusty Defenders. Each car has it’s own role; whether part of the family or simply an itch that needs scratching.

What’s clear about Richard is despite all the TV stuff; Top Gear, The Grand Tour, anything - he’s someone who at core, is a car person like you or me. There’s nothing complicated about it. The bond Richard has with this little 60s Opel is the purest example of that. It was so refreshing to whittle time away musing about stuff that, on a basic instinctual level, we can all relate to.

So, for now, in our hardly expert opinion, we can confidently say that this ‘ere motoring website is in safe hands. But you knew that anyway.

For those who have been living under a rock and are unsure of the context for today’s story:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=OETj9aTYO2Q

DRIVETRIBE: Timeless classic cars

[totallyrhettro]

Adrift, chapter 3

Word Count: 2004 Rating: This chapter: PG; overall story: explicit Warnings: None Summary: After almost drowning in the Cape Fear River as a young man, Rhett can’t seem to get over his fear of swimming. Link is a swim instructor who offers to help. Notes: AU. Rhett and Link have never met and are in their late 20s. Based on the events described in GMCL 24, but Rhett was there alone.

Chapter 1 Previous Chapter

Rhett opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was blue and for the briefest of moments he thought he really was underwater. Blinking his vision cleared and more of the world began to focus. Bluer than the sky on a clear, summer’s day, gentle and intense, the blue was a pair of eyes that were looking down at him with curiosity and concern. Blinking again a face came into view. Link’s face. A kind, beautiful face filled with worry, and once again Rhett’s breath was caught in his throat.

“He’s coming to,” Link was saying. There must have been others around, equally confused worried, but Rhett saw none of them. “Rhett? Can you hear me?”

“Link?” he choked out. Swallowing the large lump in his throat, Rhett tried again. “What happened?”

“You pass out, my friend.” A smile crossed Link’s face, happy to see his new friend was responding. “Think you can sit up for me?” Groaning Rhett raised himself up from the cold floor, rubbing the back of his head. There was a small bump there, but not too bad. He must not have been too far off the ground when he fainted. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.” Rhett rubbed his head. From his newly seated position he could see the small crowd that had gathered around him and he felt shame quickly creeping in. “I’m fine,” he asserted. “Just fine.” There was a glint in Link’s eyes, but he nodded all the same.

“You heard the man,” he announced, standing up. “Shows over, everyone.” Waving his arms about, Link shooed away the audience. “Go on, give him some space, okay?” Rather reluctantly the other swimmers began to slowly disperse and eventually Rhett was alone with the man and his lovely blue eyes.

“Thanks,” he sheepishly muttered as Link helped him to his feet. He wasn’t sure how to recover from such a public humiliation. He very much wanted to leave this gym and never come back. Still, looking down at the man before him, he wasn’t sure he could do that.

“No problem,” Link said with a smile. “You sure you’re okay? You didn’t just faint out of nowhere.”

“You s-saw that?” Great. Not only did a bunch of people see him pass out they probably all saw him floundering about beforehand.

“It’s okay, I don’t think everyone did,” Link assured him. “Just the fainting part.” Chuckling he offered the most charming grin, Rhett couldn’t help but laugh along with him. His face felt a bit hot.

“I think I’m gonna hit the showers.” Images of the man before him using the gym showers filled Rhett’s head and he blushed even more.

“You want me to hold your hand in case you fall again?” It was meant as a joke, and Rhett laughed along with him, but inside he was shaking. His mind was conjuring thoughts that were definitely not appropriate for casual conversation.

‘God, yes, hold my hand,’ his brain was shouting. ‘Take my hand and pull me into the showers. Throw me against the wall and-’

“I think I can manage,” he chuckled. Excusing himself as politely as possible, Rhett rushed off to the lockers, He couldn’t have been gone from his situation fast enough. He didn’t even want to waste time pretending to wash off the chlorine from the pool. Going straight to his locker he hurried to change back into his street clothes so he could leave right away. As soon as he was dressed he hastily made for the front exit of the gym.

Once outside Rhett headed for the parking lot still trying to figure out if he wanted to come back to this gym ever again. He did already pay for three months, after all. Walking to his car he wasn’t really paying attention and nearly jumped out of his shoes when someone called his name. It was Link. He was wearing glasses now, jeans and a shirt with the words ‘star wars’ printed in pink letters on the chest, but it was definitely Link.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Such a charming, crooked grin.

“Come to make sure I didn’t faint on the way to my car?” Rhett joked, rather humorlessly, as Link walked over.

“I wanted to talk about what happened, if that’s alright.” Biting his lip, Rhett hesitated. Any more time spent with this gorgeous man was a god-send, but he was still very embarrassed by his fainting spell back there.

“I just got a little light-headed,” he lied, trying to play it off.

“You were at the gym yesterday, weren’t you?” Link asked, clearing knowing the answer was yes. “You didn’t get wet then, either.” So he had noticed Rhett. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed Rhett when they were in the locker room showers. “Just curious what kind of man goes to a gym pool, wearing swim trunks and all, and doesn’t get in the pool?”

“It was my brother’s idea,” Rhett blurted. “He suggested I take swimming lessons.”

“Your brother wants you to learn how to swim?”

“I know how to swim.” There was a bit of frustration in his voice, but it was mostly aimed at himself. He felt silly being an adult man who was afraid of a swim.

“Maybe he wants you to get over your fear.” Rhett’s jaw fell open in surprise.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Link explained. “I had a student a few years back who had the same problem. I know a panic attack when I see one.”

“I had…?” Rhett had never experienced a panic attack before, but looking back there was little else it could have been. Maybe he was worse off than he had assumed.

“I don’t think my usual class is for you,” Link continued. “But, if you want, I think I can help you.”

“I checked online. There isn’t a Link listed as teaching a swimming class.” It was a slight accusation, but Rhett wanted to make sure his new acquaintance wasn’t just a crazy man at the gym.

“Oh, that’s because my official name is Charles. Link is my nick name.”

“What’s it short for?”

“My middle name is Lincoln. Businesses don’t really take me seriously if I introduce myself as ‘Link’.”

“I like ‘Link’,” Rhett admitted. Link smiled at that.

“‘Rhett’’s not bad either,” he said with a grin. A second passed, then another as the two men regarded each other in an awkward but wonderful silence. Finally Rhett cleared his throat.

“You think you can help me?” he asked, bringing the conversation back around. Link adjusted his glasses as he nodded.

“I’m no therapist,” he began. “But I think I can. If you don’t like the gym scene I have pool at my place. Bit more private. What d’you think?” An invitation to this handsome man’s home? It was too good to be anything innocent, but Rhett didn’t care. Looking at that gentle baby-faced man, Rhett wanted to follow him anywhere.

“I already paid for three months,” he remembered. Link laughed out loud.

“There’s always the Pilates classes.” Rhett laughed along with him, but inside he thought that maybe having a gym membership could come in handy. He had a bit of stomach flab he wouldn’t mind being rid of. “Besides, I don’t charge for my services. I teach at the gym as a volunteer gig.”

“What do you do as a job, then?”

“I’m an engineering consultant. I work for BW, in Los Angeles. People hire me to make sure their facilities are running safe and efficient.”

“I’m an engineer, too! Graduated from NC State. Worked at Black and Veatch for awhile before I moved out here.”

“Raleigh? You’re from Raleigh?”

“Grew up in Buies Creek, actually, but yeah.”

“I’m from Boone Trail!”

“That’s amazing!” Rhett gave a short laugh. “Can’t believe our paths never crossed. When did you move out here?”

“Right after college.” He gestured towards the cars, silently offering to walk Rhett to his car. “Where are you workin’ now?”

“Uh, between jobs. Sort of.” For some reason he didn’t think ‘unemployed’ was going to sound very impressive. “I make do,” he quick amended. “I play the guitar at cafe’s and bars. It’s decent money.” His voice faltered slightly, at the lie. Sneaking a peek at Link he expected to see pity, or sympathy. Instead Link looked rather impressed.

“That’s cool, man. I can’t barely play the trumpet.”

‘I bet you have a very talented mouth.’ The thought popped into Rhett’s head before he could stop it and he chuckled to hide his dirty thoughts.

“Is this you?” The question shook Rhett back to reality. Without thinking he had stopped walking beside his black scion. It wasn’t his favorite design for a car, but it had plenty of legroom.

“Uh, yeah. Y-yes.” He patted the hood. “This is me.” Link pulled out his wallet and found his business card.

“My cell number’s on there,” he explained, handing it to Rhett. “Let me know what you decide about those private lessons.” Rhett took the card and nodded.

“I will,” he assured him. ‘Does this count as getting a guy’s number?’

“I’m free on Thursdays.”

‘Was that a wink? That was definitely a wink.’ As Link headed off to find his own car Rhett cheerfully got into his. He couldn’t get the smile off of his face. He didn’t want to. Even though he knew full well there was a chance this new friend was out of his league, or seeing someone, or not even attracted to guys, Rhett didn’t care. On a little card, written in elegant letters, was an invitation to get private swimming lessons from an incredibly hot guy. A hot guy who wore speedos. Things were definitely looking up.

~

That evening it was Cole’s turn to call. It had to be way past his kid’s bedtime, but Rhett figured that was on purpose. He settled down on the couch, getting comfy before picking up the phone.

“Hey, bro,” he began, sounding more than a tiny bit cheerful.

“You’re in a good mood,” Cole noted. “You get a new job?”

“No. Thanks.” His voice dripped with sarcasm but his brother just chuckled in response.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m just hopeful. You wanna tell me why you are so happy?”

‘I met a guy. A hot guy. I got a date. A date with a hot guy. Well, not technically a date but we’re going to be alone at his house, in just our bathing suits. Alone. At his house. In bathing suits. Me. And a hot guy.’ Rhett thoughts raced faster than his heart when he had been in the locker room showers. He was far too excited for this conversation right now. In fact, he was far too excited for this upcoming Thursday in general. Getting his hopes up wasn’t going to be good for anyone. He cleared his throat before he actually spoke.

“I… I took your advice,” he finally said. “I got a gym membership and signed up for swim classes.”

“That’s great, Rhett!” Cole exclaimed, so proud of his little brother. “You get in the water yet?”

“No. My first class isn’t ‘til Thursday, but I’m looking forward to it.” That was an understatement. Despite his better judgement, his hopes were sky high. At the very least he knew he was going to get to look at Link in his speedos for a prolonged period of time. That alone was going to be worth the potential fear and embarrassment. It had been far too long since Rhett had anything like a date and this one-on-one time with Link was close enough.

“I’m proud of you, man,” his brother continued. “I’m sure you’re going to do great.” Suddenly he laughed out loud. “You gonna wear speedos or what?” he joked. Rhett laughed with him but inside he got an idea. He certainly wanted to get Link’s attention without saying anything stupid. Maybe a new bathing suit would do just the trick.

Next Chapter

More Fics

[vowel-in-thug]

and here I take my wifey privileges and ask for something from something you didn't say was allowed bc you love me :) philip and lukas, eyewitness "i'm alive, i can tell because of the pain."

DEEPLY. SIGHING. i’m gonna lose followers for this non-related content ALLIE and then I’ll just be left with my friends, the porn bots.

i’ve never written anything for this before in my life and i’ve only seen the show once WEEKS AGO and i know you know this and i know you don’t care so HERE’S THIS THING.

ps to anyone who reads this, i am a swim instructor, and everything in this is A+ solid advice

Eyewitness, Philip and Lukas, "i'm alive, i can tell because of the pain."

The idea originally came when Philip was trying to think of something to give Gabe for his birthday next month. Philip wasn’t good at coming up with gift ideas, and he had no money, so eventually settled on going out on Gabe’s boat, and actually going out on it this time. But since the last time he was in a body of water, he was dragging his unconscious secret-boyfriend back from the brink of death, being out on the lake still didn’t fill him with much calm. He’d mentioned it off-hand to Lukas one day, and Lukas had nodded silently, sympathetically, and didn’t say anything, until the next day he showed up at Philip’s house, thrusted his extra helmet into Philip’s hands, and said today was a Day of Learning.

Now, Philip stood in a YMCA locker room in a pair of borrowed swim trunks, learning that his boyfriend could be an asshole sometimes.

The swim trunks used to be Lukas’s, and he said he grew out of them two summers ago but they were the only ones he could find, and Philip wasn’t totally sure he believed that. They fit snugly around his hips, a faded blue with flames along the sides, and the hem of each leg sat higher above his knees than he’d like.

He looked at himself in the mirror. Lukas was already out in the pool, wearing a normal-size pair of shorts. He left Philip to change alone but said if he wasn’t out there in five minutes he’d come looking for him.

They had just been starting to get to know each other when everything went to shit, before. And now, with everything settled, they were finally figuring out how to be regular people around each other. It was a little backwards. Other couples learned what their significant other liked on their pizza before learning what they looked like tied up and gagged in someone’s trunk.

In the last few months, Philip learned Lukas had the worst taste in music (“John Mayer? Seriously?”), he put ketchup in his macaroni and cheese (“No, I don’t care, you’re not kissing me until you’ve repented for your sins”), and that he can quote almost every single episode of South Park (“Yeah, okay, some of the early stuff is pretty funny.”). One scary afternoon, Philip nearly broke up with him when he found out Lukas supported the Yankees, but they were finally able to overcome.

He also learned that Lukas liked to be kissed right behind his ears, that if there’s a particularly nice-looking sunset he’ll always point it out to Philip, or if Philip wasn’t around, he’ll text him a picture of it. Lukas was not a morning person but reached peak cuteness when he was rumpled and monosyllabic before class, and whenever he was eating something he’d always wordlessly hold it out to Philip to share without even noticing he was doing it.

Philip stared at himself in the streaked YMCA mirror, at the stupid board shorts, and the old, hairy men shamelessly changing behind him. He took in the clangs and the shrieks and the whistles of a public pool, the overwhelming smell of chlorine that actually was a source of comfort for it. None of his water trauma ever happened in a pool.

He grabbed his towel, and gave himself one last look of half-realized confidence. His boyfriend was thoughtful, in an absolutely terrifying way. The least he could do was try and see it through without passing out.

It took him a moment to find Lukas out in the pool. He was swimming laps in a middle lane, his body cutting across the water sharply, but with grace, in the exact same way he jumped ditches on his dirtbike and in the exact same way he kissed. Philip put his towel down on the bleachers and stood at the end of his lane, waiting for him to finish.

Lukas stopped finally, breathing hard, and lifted his goggles off his face. He gaped up at Philip, saying nothing.

“I thought the most embarrassing thing about this was me not knowing how to swim,” Phillip said. “You look like a condom.”

Lukas touched the white swim cap on his head but didn’t remove it. He didn’t look mad though. He only pouted. “My hair will turn green if I don’t wear it.” He looked Philip up and down. “I guess the shorts fit, huh?”

“Barely,” said Philip. “Stop ogling me.” He awkwardly sat down at the end of the lane, letting his feet dangle in the cold turquoise water. Baby steps.

“I’m not ogling,” said Lukas. “I’m inspecting.”

“Yeah, well, this is a step up from a speedo, so I guess I should say thanks.”

Lukas smiled. “You’re welcome.”

It was very hard not grab Lukas by the shoulders and pull him in for a kiss, stupid swim cap be damned. He knew they were being open about their relationship, but there was a fine line between holding hands on the way to class and getting kicked out of a YMCA for public indecency.

“Keep swimming,” Philip said. “I’m gonna get in myself, I don’t need you watching me.”

“Okay.” Lukas put his goggles back on. They were black racing goggles and Philip couldn’t make out his expression at all. “Remember, it’s only four feet deep. Nothing can happen.”

Infants drown in bathtubs all the time, Philip didn’t say. Most drownings at a beach occur in shallow water, where it doesn’t even hit your knees. He just waved Lukas away, wincing at the sudden splash of Lukas’s kicks.

The pool was long, about thirty yards, and Philip genuinely got distracted, watching Lukas swim, so he didn’t move from the pool’s edge until he heard a small voice say, “You should get in like this.”

He glanced down at the lane next to him. A small girl in a purple tutu bathing suit was sitting beside him. She was also wearing a swim cap, except hers was hot pink.

“Watch,” she said. She put both hands on one side of her skirt, turning her body so she was facing away from the pool. She slid in slowly until she was submerged to her shoulders, then kicked off the wall towards a parent waiting for her in the lane. “See?” she called out as she swam away.

“Thanks,” said Philip, because it turned out to be preferable to be looking away from the water when he finally got in.

He stood by the wall, clutching it with both hands in an effort to hold onto something and also to keep as much of his upper body out the water. It was cold.

“Nice job!” Lukas splashed up behind him. He stood there, dripping, huge grin on his face. “C’mon, dude. You’re better off just dunking yourself all the way under. The cold water on your stomach is the worst. Here.”

He took off his goggles and put them on Philip, and suddenly the world was tinted black and foggy.

“This doesn’t make things less scary,” said Philip. “Or less cold.”

“I’ll go under with you,” Lukas said easily. “We’re just going under one time, to get you used to the water. When you’re underwater, you like, lose a lot of your senses, so the goggles are a good way to get more comfortable. It’s less freaky when you can at least see.”

Which made sense. And then Lukas was taking Philip’s hands off the wall, and then he was still holding them, which always made sense to Philip.

“Count of three?” he asked.

Lukas counted, and then he was under, and Philip was going under too. He closed his eyes on instinct, the cold rush of water over his head piercing. But then he opened his eyes and saw Lukas, blurred behind the goggles but close enough to see his serene face underwater, still grinning, his eyes squinting through the chlorine.

Philip wanted to kiss him underwater. It felt cliche. But he did it anyway, only a quick brush of lips before rushing back to the surface with a gasp. They were probably submerged for two seconds at most, but Philip still came up panting.

Lukas came up laughing, his cheeks pink. “Feel better?” he asked.

“Much.” Lukas was still holding his hands.

“Okay,” said Lukas. “We’re not here to teach you strokes, right? Maybe one day, but you don’t need to learn any of that right now.”

“Nah, I’ve gotten pretty good at stroking lately, anyway,” Philip said, eyebrow raised.

The fluorescent lights in the gym and the cold water already made Lukas look extra pale, which in turn made his flush stand out even more.

“Knock it off,” he said, pulling Philip’s goggles onto his forehead. “You just want to be able to feel safe, right? So you can go in Gabe’s boat without freaking. So the best way to save yourself in any body of water is to float.”

“Float?”

“Yeah,” said Lukas. He waded over to the edge of the pool. “My mom showed me how to do it when I was a little kid. Being able to swim is good, or treading water, but sometimes there might not be anywhere to swim to, or you don’t know how long you could be waiting to be rescued, and swimming and treading can tire you out. But you can float forever.”

Philip watched as Lukas put both hands along the gutter that ran inside the pool. He put his feet up on the wall, so high he knobby knees were sticking out of the water. He looked up at the ceiling, his head resting on the gentle waves of the pools.

“The most important thing to do is relax,” Lukas said. He let go of the pool edge, pushing off gently with his feet, and his whole body stretched out along the surface of the water, long legs akimbo, relaxed with that ease so quiet it seemed to shout out to Philip. It was what stuck out to Philip in the first place, what he noticed first about Lukas -- just how loud his quiet could be.

“See?” Lukas said, putting his hands beneath his head like he was sunbathing. “Easy.” He stood up easily, too. He blinked a little water out of his eye, smiling still, and Philip had to remind himself yet again about that fine but firm line between real relationship, and banned from the local YMCA.

But it did look easy. So Philip turned to the wall and mimicked Lukas’s pose. Except as soon as he let go of the wall he sunk like a stone to the bottom of the pool.

He felt a shocking pain in his face at the same time he felt hands hooking under his arms, and Lukas was pulling him up towards the air, pressed against his back. Philip was too busy coughing to appreciation the closeness, feeling like water had shot into every corner of his head.

“Jesus, Philip!” Lukas pounding him between his shoulder. “Are you okay? Philip?”

“I’m fine,” Philip gasped, coughing one more time. He rubbed at his nose fiercely. “I’m fine. I’m alive. I know, because of all the pain.”

Lukas turned him around to look at his face, inspecting him thoroughly. When he detected all signs of life, right down to the streaming nose and watering eyes, he sighed, dropping a hand on the back of Philip’s neck.

“Jeez, okay. You’re not supposed to inhale the water, man, what the fuck.” He rubbed Philip’s neck once and tugged on his hair curling wetly there. “Blowing bubbles is the next thing we’ll work on, alright? And no, that’s not anything dirty or anything, you goddamn pervert.”

“I am an innocent young boy,” said Philip, already trying to work out how he could get at Lukas’s phone, and change his contact name to “Bubbles.”

Lukas snorted, but then his face went serious again. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,” Philip said immediately, and was only a little surprised that he really meant it. “Only -- this time, could you…”

“I’ll hold your head,” Lukas agreed, pulling his hands back. “That’s how my mom taught me. Turn around. You want your goggles on?”

“Nah.” Philip turned, looking out at the bottom of the bleachers, the kids running where they shouldn’t, the slick tiles littered with stray hairs and sports bottles. It was different from his other experiences, which was mostly true about everything that happened with Lukas. Even the water felt different on his skin, lighter, cleaner. It made a difference, he realized as he glanced down, to be able to see your foot beneath the surface, planted firmly on a nearby ground.

Then he felt finger tips cupping the back of his head. “Trust fall,” Lukas said quietly in his ear, humor evident in his tone. “Just let your feet rise up.”

Philip started to fall back, head safely pillowed by Lukas’s palms, and he closed his eyes, again on instinct. He felt his feet drift up to the surface slightly as Lukas walked them backwards.

“Push your stomach out,” Lukas said in his ear. “Relax. Spread your legs and tilt your hips up.”

Philip smiled, eyes still closed, as he followed instructions. “Now, why does that sound familiar?”

Lukas tugged on a lock of Philip’s hair sharply. “You are ruining so many childhood memories for me, man.”

“Sorry,” said Philip said, then he added, “You’re making some of mine better, though.”

Lukas didn’t say anything, just continued walking them back, letting the flow of the water pull Philip’s body upwards. Philip could feel Lukas’s fingers rubbing his scalp in ten small circles, occasionally feeling a hand drift away from his head so Lukas was only holding him with one before the other returned again and he’d alternate.

“Just relax, dude.” Lukas was slowly u-turning in the lane, carefully making sure Philip’s feet didn’t knock into the hard plastic of the lane lines as they headed back to the shallow end. “But like, don’t fall asleep.”

“I’m not,” said Philip. He felt awake. His eyes were still closed, and the only sound he could hear clearly was Lukas’s voice, hovering right over his ear. Everything else was muted, the echo of the pool area and the splash of other swimmers became as distant as a rainstorm coming down miles away from Helen and Gabe’s house, the thunder and lightning only known if he happened to glance out the window.

His toes breached the surface of the pool finally, and the sway of the water, the hands in his hair, and the muffled noise reminded him of being a boy, half in a dream and mindless of the city still running outside the thin walls of their crappy apartment.

“You doing alright, Philip?”

Philip’s hands hung uselessly at his side, until he reached up with one, careful to keep his balance on the top of the water. “This is easy,” he said, circling one of Lukas’s wrists tightly. He kept his eyes closed, and Lukas kept him afloat.

[newyorktheater]

In the six decades since The Temptations began, as we’re told near the end of the latest Broadway jukebox musical “Ain’t Too Proud,”  24 men have performed at one time or another as members of this R & B quintet. Even the “classic five,” as Temptation fans call them, were not all involved at the beginning, when Otis Williams got a group of his Detroit homeboys together, and snagged a recording contract with Berry Gordy’s Motown Records.

The Temptations, in other words, is less a band than a brand – one that has sold 25 million records worldwide, turning out 17 top 40 pop hits, among them four that made it to number 1:  “I Can’t Get Next To You,” “Papa Was A Rollin’ Stone,” “Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)” and arguably their biggest earworm, “My Girl.” Others include “Get Ready” and the song that gives the show its title, “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg.”

“Ain’t Too Proud” is an extension of the Temptations brand. It’s subtitled “The Life and Times of The Temptations,”  but it would be more accurate to label it The Songs and Smooth Moves of the Temptations. Those are the reasons people will want to see this show, and these are the aspects of the show that will most reward them. The 31 songs are largely peak Motown (and include some hits from the Cadillacs and the Supremes; see song list below) Sergio Trujillo’s choreography is a thrilling upgrade of the group’s trademark dips, snaps, splits, sways and twirls.  The performers are talented enough as singers and dancers to be members of the actual Temptations — original, classic or replacement — and they can act too.

Derrick Baskin portrays Otis Williams, who was the founder of the group, and the only surviving member of the classic five. The musical is based on the 1988 memoir that he wrote with Patricia Romanowski entitled “The Temptations,” and he is credited as the executive producer of the show. It makes sense, then, that Otis is the narrator. The story, shaped by librettist Dominique Morisseau, is told from his point of view.

But it’s not just his story. Ain’t Too Proud wants to tell everybody’s story –  the classic five, sure, but also those whom they replaced, and those who replaced them, as well as their neglected families. We see their struggle to keep together and get to the top, bickering with each other all along the way. We also see how fame and life on the road take a sometimes tragic toll on each individual’s health, their equilibrium, their relationships, their family life. Paul Williams (James Harkness) drinks too much and dies young, his death ruled a suicide. There’s one scene where all but Otis are freebasing cocaine. In a nod to the promise of the subtitle, there are also scenes that reflect the contentious times: While riding on their tour bus in the South, they’re shot at by racists. There is much thought-provoking back and forth about the requirements, restrictions, and resentments involved in being crossover artists.

This all-inclusive approach has two stumbling blocks.  The general outline of rising to the top and falling from grace, feels overly familiar. And with so many songs and so many incidents to get through, there is little time to keep them from coming off as generic. The proceedings can feel rushed, the transitions jarring. Not long after one of the Temptations announces that Martin Luther King Jr. has been assassinated, followed by a quick relevant montage accompanying the song “I Wish It Would Rain,” we see the group sitting in their dressing room, looking morose. But the reason why they’re morose is because David Ruffin, a terrific singer but a screw-up, is late, and they want to kick him out of the group. Mourning finished; we have  to move on.

In fairness to “Ain’t Too Proud,” it’s hard to come up with a single example in tbe rapidly replicating subgenre of jukebox bio-musical that has done full justice either to its subject(s) or to the art of theater. The one that comes closest is probably “Jersey Boys,”  Des McAnuff’s first foray into the genre as a director. He is also the director of “Ain’t Too Proud,” and of last year’s “Summer.” The saving grace of these shows is their function as showcases and training grounds for some terrific performers.

The show’s savviest move is in the casting.

Jeremy Pope, who just made an impressive Broadway debut as the lead in Chorus Boy, carries forward the lesson he learned on how both to stand out and blend in for his portrayal of Eddie Kendricks. Rashidra Scott lets loose as Josephine, Otis’s put-upon first wife, with “If You Don’t Know Me By Now.” She is a veteran of five other Broadway musicals, including “Beautiful,” a jukebox that several other “Ain’t Too Proud” performers list in the bios. Jawan M. Jackson gives us the silky deep bass of Melvin Franklin, aka Blue. Jackson made his Broadway debut in Motown The Musical, which also cast Ephraim Sykes. Sykes has also performed in “Memphis” and “Newsies” and “Hamilton,” as well as NBC’s production of Hairspray Live as Seaweed J. Stubbs.  As David Ruffin in “Ain’t Too Proud,” Sykes steals the show, with moves that astound, and sounds to die for. That he commands attention seems to fit the character he’s playing. Even after the unruly Ruffin is  kicked out of the group, he pops up on stage to perform with the reconfigured group in a series of ambushes. In one of Otis’s cornier lines, he says: “David was getting addicted to the worst drug of all: The spotlight.”  May the performer who portrays him maintain this addiction for many more years – and shows – to come.

Derrick Baskin as Otis Williams, front

Jeremy Pope and Candice Marie Woods center

Ephraim Sykes as David Ruffin

Ain’t Too Proud Imperial Theater Written by Dominique Morisseau Directed by Des McAnuff. Choreography by Sergio Trujillo. Scenic design by Robert Brill, costume design by Paul Tazewell, lighting design by Howell Binkley, sound design by Steve Canyon Kennedy, projection design by Peter Nigrini, hair and wig design by Charles G. LaPointe, fight direction by Steve Rankin, associate choreographer Edgar Godineaux, music coordinator John Miller, vocal supervision by Liz Caplan, orchestrations by Harold Wheeler, Music Direction and Arrangements by Kenny Seymour. Cast: Derrick Baskin as Otis Williams, James Harkness as Paul Williams, Jawan M. Jackson as Melvin Franklin, Jeremy Pope as Eddie Kendricks, and Ephraim Sykes as David Ruffin. Saint Aubyn, Shawn Bowers, E. Clayton Cornelious, Taylor Symone Jackson, Jahi Kearse, Jarvis B. Manning Jr., Joshua Morgan, Rashidra Scott, Nasia Thomas, Christian Thompson, Candice Marie Woods, Esther Antoine, Marcus Paul James, Jelani Remy, and Curtis Wiley.

Songlist (listed alphabetically)

Ain’t Too Proud to Beg (music by Edward Holland, Jr. and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Edward Holland, Jr. and Norman J. Whitfield) Baby Love (music by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Brian Holland and Edward Holland, Jr.; lyrics by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Brian Holland and Edward Holland, Jr.) Ball of Confusion (That’s What the World is Today) (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) Cloud Nine (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) Come See About Me (music by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Brian Holland and Edward Holland, Jr.; lyrics by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Brian Holland and Edward Holland, Jr.) Don’t Look Back (music by Smokey Robinson and Ronald White; lyrics by Smokey Robinson and Ronald White) For Once In My Life (music by Ronald Miller and Orlando Murden; lyrics by Ronald Miller and Orlando Murden) Get Ready (music by Smokey Robinson; lyrics by Smokey Robinson) Gloria (music by Ester Navarro; lyrics by Ester Navarro) I Can’t Get Next to You (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) I Could Never Love Another (After Loving You) (music by Carl Christiansen, Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Helga Penzabene, Roger Penzabene, Jr., Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Carl Christiansen, Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Helga Penzabene, Roger Penzabene, Jr., Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) (I Know) I’m Losing You (music by Cornelius Grant, Edward Holland, Jr. and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Cornelius Grant, Edward Holland, Jr. and Norman J. Whitfield) I Want a Love I Can See (music by Smokey Robinson; lyrics by Smokey Robinson) I Wish It Would Rain (music by Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) If I Could Build My Whole World Around You (music by Johnny Bristol, Vernon Bullock and Harvey Fuqua; lyrics by Johnny Bristol, Vernon Bullock and Harvey Fuqua) If You Don’t Know Me By Now (music by Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff; lyrics by Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff) I’m Gonna Make You Love Me (music by Gregg America, Skip Batey and Gregg Crockett; lyrics by Gregg America, Skip Batey and Gregg Crockett) In the Still of the Night (music by Fred Parris; lyrics by Fred Parris) Just My Imagination (Running Away with Me) (music by Troy Carter, Anthony Fontenot, Barrett Strong, Norman J. Whitfield and Armique Wyche; lyrics by Troy Carter, Anthony Fontenot, Barrett Strong, Norman J. Whitfield and Armique Wyche) My Girl (music by Smokey Robinson and Ronald White; lyrics by Smokey Robinson and Ronald White) Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) Runaway Child, Running Wild (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) Shout (music by Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley and O’Kelly Isley; lyrics by Ronald Isley, Rudolph Isley and O’Kelly Isley) Since I Lost My Baby (music by Warren Moore and Smokey Robinson; lyrics by Warren Moore and Smokey Robinson) Speedo (music by Ester Navarro; lyrics by Ester Navarro) Superstar (Remember How You Got Where You Are) (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) The Way You Do the Things You Do (music by Smokey Robinson and Robert Rogers; lyrics by Smokey Robinson and Robert Rogers) War (music by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Barrett Strong and Norman J. Whitfield) What Becomes of the Brokenhearted (music by James Dean, Paul Riser and William Weatherspoon; lyrics by James Dean, Paul Riser and William Weatherspoon) You Can’t Hurry Love (music by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Edward Holland, Jr. and Brian Holland; lyrics by Lamont Herbert Dozier, Edward Holland, Jr. and Brian Holland) You’re My Everything (music by Carl Christiansen, Cornelius Grant, Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Helga Penzabene and Norman J. Whitfield; lyrics by Carl Christiansen, Cornelius Grant, Rodger Penzabene, Sr., Helga Penzabene and Norman J. Whitfield)

Broadway Review: Ain’t Too Proud: The Life and Times of The Temptations In the six decades since The Temptations began, as we’re told near the end of the latest Broadway jukebox musical “Ain’t Too Proud,”  24 men have performed at one time or another as members of this R & B quintet.

[famousattractionoffameandfood]

Eren replaced one image for another from the scrap book his parents left for him which contained his parents, him, and Levi with his own parents. As of late he had an image of all of them together on one side of his golden locket while the other side showed just him and Levi being together. Eren lips curled into a small smile as he replaced both sides for a different one. 

He remembered the day Levi and himself were in a part of a play and he just so happen to have to be the damn carrot while Levi was the raging pink bunny rabbit that tries to eat him every time an adult turned their backs on them. Eren smiles even wider “Don’t think there’s a time we were together where he didn’t bite me.” Closing the album book he put his only treasure beside this locket and the key he turned into a choker around his neck up.

 Slipping the gold chain around his neck he walked right into the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer the choker and long chained golden locket around his neck.

Snagging the apron off it’s hook in the kitchen he put it on tying the knot in front of him like some fancy chef. Snagging his smart tv remote he got on the internet and went to the saved bookmark tab. A second later Dragon Dessert blog popped up on the sixty five inch smart flat screen tv. He used the remote to go to the breakfast tab on dragon dessert blog and went for the easy breakfast. Thanks to that blog he can cook eggs without burning it to high hell sure the magazine likes to call him perfect but, he’s not. He can’t cook for shit if he haven’t learned how to do it. For breakfast he wanted french omelette and a few side dish beside it. He might even be daring to make waffles which he only needs to add water to the batter and used the measuring cup from the waffle iron kit and Wa-La it’s waffles he can butter and drown in syrup.

Grabbing the utensil  and ingredients he needs from the video that was playing on the flat screen tv. Levi cut up the green pepper in small bits.

Let see.... “Beat the eggs, water, salt and pepper in small bowl until blended.” Eren did what dragon dessert instructed until it was well blended.

“Than heat butter in 6 to 8-inch nonstick omelet pan or skillet over medium-high heat until hot. TILT pan to coat bottom. POUR IN egg mixture. Mixture should set immediately at edges.”

Eren again did what Dragon dessert said and put butter in the skillet and rotate it so that all the butter melted. Shortly after he poured in the mix batter of the egg and waited for it to cook on one side. He had tossed in some cooked meat in the french omelette. 

“Than you should gently push the cooked portions from edges toward the center with inverted turner so that uncooked eggs can reach the hot pan surface. CONTINUE cooking, tilting pan and gently moving cooked portions as needed.”

Eren watched the video and done it on his own project and since his waffle iron is heating up he should be able to dump his omelette on the plate toss in some ketchup and work on his waffles and meat.

“When top surface of eggs is thickened and no visible liquid egg remains, PLACE filling on one side of the omelet. FOLD omelet in half with turner. With a quick flip of the wrist, turn pan and INVERT or SLIDE omelet onto plate. SERVE immediately.”

Eren smiled it look like the video and he gently put it on the plate and decorated it. Than he turned off the stove and set the hot skillet in the sink running cold water on it.

Next he put on some oven mitt and sprayed the non-stick waffle iron and poured the batter into the waffle iron and closed it. He made sure he had the tile turned all the way to the left so it could crispy. Once he was done with that he washed the skillet and tossed in some sausage and let it cook. Seven minutes later his hot waffles was on a plate on it’s own and he placed everything on the dinning table. Taking his apron off he set it back on the hook and breath in the home cooked breakfast in the air and smiled brightly.

“Time to eat.” he said to no one in particular, he lived alone after all. Rich and famous but, no one here to spend his life with. Eren sat down and looked at his locket...

“At least for right now...soon though I’ll propose to Levi and we can get married.”

Eren said to himself to cheer himself up once he was feeling cheerful and productive he ate his food in peace. His cats were spending the night at Armin’s so he didn’t forget about them although Erena would probably come back on her own when she feels like it. She mostly lived with their parents but, as of right now she’s on summer break so she on the island with him. The Caribbean is a wonderful place to live especially with the ocean being the color of his eyes.

Plus his filming for the production of the dragon king would be close to the ocean too so it’s perfect in a way. “Water dragon king...huh... I could work on my script after I digest.”

Again, Eren has got to stop talking to himself but, having Sirene live with him he just got use to talking to her over the years. “.....Levi...”

Leaning back from a clean plate he wonder if Levi forgotten all about him... He doesn’t have his number or his address and every time he tried to post a private information his fan base floods his emails and PO box claiming they are his Levi so he had given up on trying to contact him that way...

Sighing again he wonder if he should just hire a private detective to find his lost lost. He could only imagine that Levi has grown even more beautiful over the years.

He made enough money to buy him a real engagement ring than the candy ring he bought from a store when they were kids. He wanted everyone in the world he was madly in love with Levi and want to show him off to the world. He was going to be the luckiest and happiest man in the world with Levi by his side.

Although his fantasy always become short lived when he thought about Levi dating someone other than him... “...Ugh...I don’t want that...”

Picking up his dishes he set them in the sink once he rinsed it out and left it there. Drying his hand he went back to his bedroom and snag his laptop and brought it back out to the living room without it’s charger. Starting up his laptop he went to the one place that could put a smile on his face. Since his large breakfast is digesting he can at least work out his fingers to his friend.

Pulling up the blog from dragon dessert he sent a massage his way,

Ariesti: Man I could really use a vacation right about now.

DragonDesserts: Why don’t you just take a vacation?

Ariesti: I’d totally take a vacation in a heartbeat if it was with you.

DragonDesserts: Who knows… It might be possible. I was thinking about doing another giveaway. Maybe a week long cruise with one of my fans.

Ariesti: I’m gonna win.

Ariesti: Even if I have to do whatever is required a million times over to beat the odds.

It was a while before DD replied back to him so once he did the breath that he didn’t know he was holding released out in relief. Good he didn’t freak him out... he was posting the give-a-way prize.

“Hey everyone! It’s that time of year again when I do a large giveaway! Now you all have been so wonderful and I am feeling super on top of the world right now so I’m going to be doing my biggest giveaway EVER! In fact this time up for grabs is a week long cruise around the islands of my homeland, which will be revealed only to the winner.”

Eren smiles “You should always feel like you’re on top of the world,” he said with a happy sigh.

His little dragon winked and blew a kiss and than DD mascot moved on.

“Also included in the giveaway is private one on one cooking lessons from me personally. The Cruise will be completely private just one on one time with me and my lucky fan. So in order to win here is what you have to do…. Recently I got a wonderful surprise that has inspired my manicure for today! The only hint I’ll give you is ‘EYES’ and you have to figure out what or who has inspired this beautiful design. Good luck! The first person to answer correctly gets the prize! I’ll set up the arrangements once the prize has been won as well as announcing the lucky winner on the video after the puzzle has been solved!”

Eren looked at the color of his nails and he couldn’t help that those ‘Eyes’ he mention was the pair of eyeballs he got in his eye socket.... While everyone repeated ‘Peacock’ and it’s obvious it wasn’t ‘peacock despite the pattern and color.

Opening the comment box he typed in “Eren’s eyes.” and hit enter.

Maybe he was just arrogant but, their was a tint of red on his paint that if he moved it hand a little he could see the hint of red on them. He held his breath and waited... A second later someone else said ‘Eren’ as well and soon after everyone was repeating that name and squealing. One of them had a picture of him and he was naked of sort...

“Really? When did someone take a picture of me in a speedo?” Eren thought back for a moment than looked pissed. “God damn it Connie he sold me out. That bitch!”

While he’s swearing Connie name up and down a bing of the sound of his notification announced someone was messaging him that he open a new tab and clicked on notification in his mail before clicking on DD username.

Eren smiled so big his eyes practically sparkle like a Disney prince his hand tremble when he put his Antaeus Springer. Villa La Grande Maison 211 Grand Avenue, Colombier, Saint Barthelemy..... Um my uh my number is +1 721 510 (xxxx) everything was his number and address but, not his name.... He was never good at being on the spot unless it was his job for acting or singing....but, when DD replied back to calling him he freaked the hell out and took his laptop and hurry out of his house. He had to use his car just to drive across the damn street and break into Armin’s house.

He should of known to bust in Armin’s closed bedroom but, he did anyway and from the stench in the air they’ve been at it for a while. Eren moved to the side of the bed and pretty much showed them his laptop and try to shove his cellphone to one of them.

“Help mee help me help me he’s gonna call me and I don’t have anything to disguise my voice and I need onnnnneeeeee!”

Armin stayed frozen in his position Erwin’s cock currently buried in his ass and the semen that escape his tight hole was shyly going down to his ass or his thigh....

“....Eren hun you do know what’s going on right now don’t you?”

Eren looked between him and Erwin who face planted Armin shoulder his ass cheek was blushing...

“You’re....having sex?”

Armin thigh’s tremble, “Yeah, baby....so don’t you see what’s wrong with this picture?” He asked sweetly but, the look in his eyes was not one of patients but, Eren didn’t care since he was running out of time.

“Yeah, no one is getting up to help me find a voice changer! DD is going to call me any minute now! So get up.”

Eren shook him and Armin gave a surprised yelp whatever he did Armin grabbed his cock and tried to get out of their weird yoga position... 

“Jesus! Mini me Mini Erwin help Eren and lock the door!”

“What? You’re not gonna help? Erwin please DD gonna call any second now it’ll be too late!” He couldn’t plea his case since the two mini people that looked like the two on the bed was dragging him out by ropes.

“Noooooo! Waiiiiiiiiiit-” Shortly after the door closed and locked behind him the second DD called he was scratching on their door once he had been free from his bondage.

Mini Erwin jumped on to his shoulder and he brought the phone up close to his face. He hit the green button to accept the call but, he couldn’t say anything.

‘What am I gonna do....’ He didn’t get to think that far ahead when Erwin pinched his cheek....HARD that he yelp and cursed.

“Damn it, little Erwin that hurt!”

“A-Antaeus?”

Eren covered his mouth and than cleared his voice trying to sound lower than normal but, than Erwin replaced his voice to sound like someone else completely that he wanted to do a face plant for being so stupid.

“Yes!”

“Am I calling at a bad time?”

Eren shook his head than cleared his throat again “N-no not at all, I’m free. So free.” Eren replied a little to hyper, “I was just....I was excited to be the winner so I kinda jump that now that we are talking now....and exchanging numbers and I’m running my mouth....sorry.”

“No, it’s fine I’m pretty excited my self.”

Eren smiled crossing his legs and placed his hand on his bare knee Eren looked down and notice he wasn’t wearing any clothes but, his skin tight boxer...  ‘Oops...’ “That’s great...so um, even after the whole....cruise thing can we still talk on the phone since I have your number now... Or we can just text...by that sound you’re using a voice changer...” Eren mumble although he’s not one to talk...

Let’s get real he’s Eren.... the famous Eren that took the entertainment world by storm and continue to do so for the past ten years. He just didn’t want him to change tunes on him unless he...is in love with him.. Although, he’s been pushing his ideal on him... He likes to believe the person he talks to is Levi.. Normally he didn’t care for claw nails but, if it’s from Levi it suited him pretty damn well... He’s always been creative artistically and he loves to eat real good food... He had the same favorite color and everything and the way he typed his speech it just felt nostalgic and Eren’s picky what he eats but, he eats anything from Levi...

Well....let’s just see if he’s really Levi before I start seducing him...

“When I can take vacation?” Eren pluck Mini Armin off from tugging his under wear to his hand and mention calendar. Mini Armin pulled up the calendar and since today is a Tuesday....

“How about as soon as possible I can go as soon as tomorrow. I just need to pack stuff and I can take the private plane to be there as soon as tomorrow at noon.”

Eren said excitedly, “I can’t wait to take a vacation and since I’ve been working my ass off they can accept the short notice. I’ll let them know as soon as I’m off the phone with you.” Eren sound so child like as he asked about the cruise, “I’ll buy a lot of souvenir.”  And the conversation went on talking about the cruise and who he should be looking for. Although if his nails were of today’s time he can find him pretty quickly. Pale skin and my eye colors on his nail shouldn’t be too hard...

[dawyer]

Salt of the Sun

I enjoy guns and wearing makeup. Not necessarily at the same time, but why not go to the shooting range with a little lipstick? I like cooking for my friends, the kitchen is my temple. I enjoy watching the Bruins kick ass in hockey. Go Bruins! 

The reason I like the term queer is because it fits me to a tee.

I am anatomically a 24-year-old, adult woman. Being queer does not make one a hermaphrodite. We seem to get this whole physical anatomy versus sexual expression versus sexual preference thing all mixed up. Any intelligent citizen can tell you're they're three different things entirely. But they're also mysteriously connected like a Chinese foreign investor and the Greek national debt are all tied up in your junk bond mortgage. Like a hot mess. That's what makes you interesting, even if we all seem incomprehensible at first.

I just don’t identify with stereotypically female or male characteristics. Take the blue and pink salad spinners, for example. His and Hers. His salad and her salad. Spin your salad blue for boys, spin your salad pink for girls. What the hell difference does it make? Whatever pesticides aren’t washed off the lettuce are going to give you cancer anyways, no matter what your gender is.

Sometimes guys think I'm anatomically a boy. I have my hair cut real short and sometimes I don't wear makeup when I don't feel like it. I'm only five foot eight and rather flat-chested, but I've got a nice ass, so it's really a toss-up. On that note, I went to the beach last week sans maquillage. In my zone, reading Camus on the coast of Maine outside of Portland, watching the Canadians migrate to their favorite Summer swimhole and listening to them speak French... this is my element. A little girl was afraid to go into the water and a man, probably her Dad, dunked her under the water real fast and rose her up like she was baby Simba, except this girl was screaming and crying that she wanna go back, wanna go back, wanna go back to Mommy. Sometimes Fathers don't realize how the early trauma they put their kids through can really fuck them up. My Father used to wrestle with me as a kid, playfully at first, but one day he pinned me down, my little arms and legs squished under his huge gut. He wouldn't let me get up until I pretended to stop breathing. Ever since then, I hate being under someone else, sexually or otherwise. Then I really start to freak out and have to explain the whole story. Most people are understanding of this kind of trauma, or at least they pretend to be understanding. Sometimes they never call or text me back, but that could be for other reasons.

My book down in front of my face and my eyelids getting rather heavy, I lie down on my stomach and close my eyes behind sepia-tinted sunglasses. For a few minutes I feel the breeze lap the back of my neck and the sun really going at it on my upper thighs, those pesky pale things. I'm wearing a blue tank-top, I burned my back a few days ago so it was still a little sensitive. With my eyes closed I drift off into a land where there are just orange auras moving around real lazily, like globes of energy, slow dancing to "Wonderwall" at a high school dance. The auras would sometimes blend into each other and become brighter, and then move apart. It was beautiful. I wasn't really there, but I was everywhere at the same time, just kind of floating amidst and above them. Then I feel a pungent garlic breath punch my face.

I open my eyes and get up on my elbow real fast, adjusting my eyes to the light. A man comes into focus, also lying down on the beach, his skin like a leathery, orange handbag and his face shiny with too much sun lotion. He wasn't that old, maybe mid 50's, but he looked like a beach addict, a real beach bum. His curly salt-and-pepper hair looked well-washed at least, and his arms were big like tree limbs and rather endearing.

"Hey man," he says, exposing some bleached, glow-in-the-dark white teeth, and continues, "What are you reading?"

"Well I wasn't reading, I was asleep... but anyways, I've been reading Camus."

"Came us!" He says, picking up the book and nodding his head over and over again, "I've heard of him, he's like a French revolutionary or something?"

"Not exactly, I mean he's pretty recent, like 1960's I think he died? Anyways some of his ideas were pretty revolutionary I guess you could say."

"Ok," He says, sitting up straight and side-glancing a few times over at my ass. An awkward pause of silence interrupts us, then a bee comes over and hovers above my side. I try to brush it away.

"Be careful not to hurt it!" He shouts, brushing my thigh with his surprisingly soft fingers, "Bees are our friends, we need them to pollinate all the flowers along the beach and give life to this otherwise dead world. They give life to the flowers, the flowers make fruit, we eat the fruit. But those damn cell phone towers are killing them off all over the place! I’m gonna take my hatchet and cut em down.”

“I don’t know if you can cut through steel cell phone towers, they look like pretty sturdy structures. Anyways last I heard it was farmers spraying their crops with nasty chemicals was the thing that’s done the bees in.”

He just leers at me for a moment and replies, “I remember the day those towers went up and things started to change. Let’s just knock one down and see what happens. You look like a pretty strong boy, you could help me pull it down.” He grabs my though and gives a strong squeeze.

Strong boy? True I’m strong, I always alternate between the shooting range and going to the gym every alternate day. That way I’ve got a sharp eye when I have a rifle, and I can wrestle when I need to.

“I’m not a...” I rethink my words, not wanting to explain what queer is, “not as strong as you think.”

“Well we could find out.” He looks over to the bushes at the edge of the beach. There’s nobody around but us, we’re at a No Swim section of the beach and all the respectful Canadians are down further at the lifeguarded section.

“Huh..? What do you...” I say as he squeezes my thigh again. I hate when random guys touch me like they’re testing the ripeness of an avocado.

“You play football? What grade are you in?”

“Eleventh. No, track and field,” I lie.

“Oh a junior, that‘s a good year. A rough one, but good. You’re in your prime.” He winks a nasty, long wink. There’s sand in his eyelashes. Then stands up and reaches for my hand. “Come on, let me show you something. Want to go see in the bushes?”

“Ok.”

We walk over, my hand in his big, soft one. 

When we get to the bushes he says, “Now I want to show you something, but you don’t have to do anything. Just sit there.” He immediately pulls down his speedo to reveal a hard, veiny dick. He starts touching himself and making low, guttural noises, almost pig-like. His face was turning bright red. With all that orange skin, it was like watching a giant red pimple appearing on the skin of a grapefruit.

Then he starts touching my hair, and that sets me off. Up until this point, he was just putting on a show. It all seemed harmless, maybe to just show off his manhood in a softcore kind of way. To show who is the alpha male to the beta male.

I want to punch him in the groin, but I resist.

Instead, I take him in my mouth for two seconds, and he screams with surprise and pleasure. The thing smells fishy, combined with the burnt smell of sun lotion spread over the flesh of his lower abdomen. It immediately repulsed me almost to the point of gagging.

Then I bite, hard. Like an enchanted apple, though I’m the enchantress. And the apple is now forever cursed.

He lets out a beast-like yelp, and pushes against the sides of my head. It felt like my eyes would pop out the front of my face like a Looney Tunes character upon discovering that their tail is on fire. I stand up and run real fast until I feel it’s safe to. Then I turn around and see the dude doubled over on the ground, it looks like he’s crying.

 I realize there’s something salty tasting in my mouth. I spit. Blood-tinted saliva. I spit until I can’t spit anymore and I run to the ocean and start throwing massive amounts of salty ocean water in my mouth to rinse.

Then I look back again. The man is still doubled-over, writhing in pain. I think he’s even sobbing. I gather my things and put them in my backpack and attach my bicycle helmet to my head. As I walk away towards where I locked my bike, an idea strikes me.

I run back real stealthily to where the man in sobbing and yell, “Hey bee fucker! You wanna try this?” And I pull down my bikini bottom, exposing my female anatomy. I shaved it that morning, so it is literally here in broad daylight.

He looks over at me and just stares, tears coming down his face. “You could have said,” he begins to say, and repeats, “could have...”. Then he starts to laugh. It sounded at first like a nervous laugh, the kind of slow, forced laugh when you’re not sure if someone is going to hurt you. Then it continued and became louder, and louder, and he gasps for air in between each one. Maniacal. Like he will never stop.

I yell back, “Could have said what?”

Suddenly he stops laughing, and says dryly, “No.”

I gulp what feels like a golf ball in my throat and turn the other way very delicately, and then start to walk fast. Like a suburban mom in the morning, but faster. When I get to my bike, I look back towards the bushes and don’t see the man anymore. 

Maybe he rolled down into the ocean waves like a beached whale trying to return to wherever he came from?

On my bike, I feel free again. On my bike, I am invincible.

On my bike, I am alone.