Scott loves music. Mitch loves coffee.

Just some One Shots updated randomly, whenever I get the inspiration.

"Police! Open up!" I yell, banging again. I steel myself as this time I hear the locks click-clunk and see the door pull back slowly to reveal a half-naked blond bear of a man, who fucking towers over me. He's standing, blocking the doorway, with a frying pan in one hand and an aerosol can in the other. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with exertion, eyes wide with adrenaline, and his bare torso is glistening with sweat. He adjusts the grip on the pan and I see the muscles of that arm ripple underneath the monochrome sleeve that adorns it. Shit. Why the fuck did I not call for back up? (Aka the failed one shot. From the ship that sails itself.) Some content is mature. Caution advised, but specific trigger warnings will be given where appropriate. Note: AWOOGA is used to label the dirrrrrrty chapters.

Sequel to "Rich Boy" On Hold

A high school love story, with a twist. 25 year old Scott Hoying is a teacher at Martin High School, and he finds himself faced with a particularly difficult student. 17 year old Mitch Grassi is a student at Martin High School, and he leads a hard life. The way he chooses to deal with it, is not the right way. Will Mitch be able to turn his life around before it's too late, and find love along the way?((WARNING: CONTAINS DRUG USE, AGGRESSIVE SWEARING, & UNDERAGE RELATIONS))

Scott's vision is fuzzy. Hazy. Unfocused like it hasn't been since the LASIK. He vaguely wonders why, but his head hurts so much he's distracted and can't figure it out. He thinks for a second that he's drunk. That he's given himself the mother of all hangovers. But his shoulder and his arm and his chest and his side and his leg also hurt-shit, his shoulder really hurts-and he's never been drunk enough for that to happen before. Plus, if he's not mistaken, that's his steering wheel in front of him, through the haze and the dust and the noise and the red and whatever the deflated white thing is. Regardless of how drunk he's been, he would never be drunk in the driver's seat of his car. Fuck. Fuck, he hurts. The spiderweb pattern across his windshield is kinda pretty though, sparkling like that in the sun. Blink.

A collection of Scomiche one-shots.

Book 2... On hold

A collection of mature oneshots inspired by pics or tweets or my own random brain, mostly Scomiche. And a reminder that just because a story or scene is mature, doesn't mean it's devoid of characterization, development, or value. Pretty new cover by Ehcimocs

Mostly random one shots, when I need to express myself.