Mitch Grassi is a florist. He uses his knowledge to make the most appropriate arrangements for his clients and to confess his feelings towards an oblivious regular of the shop. - A collection of cute oneshots.

I hit shuffle on my iPod... and this is what happened.

Scott and Mitch's life. From the time Scott was in high school he liked Mitch. He couldn't have imagined how his life would turn out from one simple asking out. One simple day changed everything. It started a whole life. Smut and proofreading by Tiny (@doctorsapprentice) and Sophie (@mrscarlethatminion) One smut scene. It will be marked with *** at the beginning and end. Note: Scott and Mitch are the same age in this story.

This is a sequel to this don't even feel like falling. Scott and Mitch are on the same page-for real, this time-but that doesn't mean there's not more to their story. Title is from Rocket by Beyoncé. Fake usernames courtesy of @_opheliac and @Sreed09! Thank you guys!! (Any similarity to actual usernames is unintentional and purely coincidental.) fictionalcandie's notes: no stop don't look at me. this isn't my fault. um. enjoy our valentine to y'all? :P duvalu's notes: HIDE YO KIDS HIDE... yourself. Boy howdy. Happy V Day, here's some filth. Special shout out to the DM girls <3

@scotthoying: The acceptance rate for pop music at USC this coming fall was 7%. congrats @mitchgrassi :D

Mitch was a fan way before he got the job. Can he balance friendship with fandom? Can he remain professional without revealing his inner fangirl? Is that even possible?

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

When Mitch and Scott meet as college roommates, they're not sure what to make of each other. They're so different; Mitch is tiny and alternative and sarcastic and gay as a meatball, and Scott is absolutely positive he's straight as can be. Yet through a shared love of Queen Bey and a few of those spill-your-guts late night college talks, they forge a strong friendship, and from there... Well. Gay shit happens.

{fu·nam·bu·list: a tightrope walker/rope-dancer} Scott Hoying had been sitting in row 4, seat number 23, when he had been sure that his heart stopped beating. With his fingernails burrowed into his dark jeans and his lip between his teeth, he could do nothing but stare upwards - 50 feet above him- as the figure pranced along the high wire. The performer's body swayed to the melody around him, a stunning smile lighting up his entire face as he moved; his arms were thrown out to the sides, toes pointed, as he jumped along the tightrope. The massive tent expelled a blinding white light in the performer's direction, casting an ethereal glow upon his black-clad figure. On cue, the performer then quickly leaped forward, smile still intact, executing three of the most perfect front flips Scott had ever seen in his life. He thought the boy looked miraculous up there, and that was definitely an understatement. Though he was around same age as Scott himself, his way of performing showed experience and talent far beyond his years; the performer quite literally personified the music. It's sure that Scott was definitely the last person to be able to judge circus performers, as it wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he knew passion when he saw it. Scott was certain that if he even attempted something of that calibre, he would probably start crying, if he didn't break his nose first.

Scott has a problem. Mitch might be able to help him, but what's the price? Will this add something on their relationship, or will it just mess things up?