#flakesstarter

[zanekellers-blog]

Zane was enjoying his day off, it was great working at the local pub the tips were great and he never really went home lonely. It was the days off that brought the energy back to him, most of the time vegging out on his couch with healthy snacks or in the gym. Since the accident, Zane has tried to control his powers but suddenly he felt his legs start moving faster. “Shit, look out!” He said almost running into someone. “I’m sorry.”

[misterwright]

Cal had worked in Finance on Wall Street for 20 years before he'd made enough to quit and open his own spa here in town. He'd gotten his massage therapy license simply because he wanted to be able to talk about the treatments his spa offered intelligently, and to cover his therapists when they went on vacations.

After the serum, he had started seeing one-time clients as requested. Having the ability to dramatically alter bodies through massage was his gift, and the spa was doing brisk business because of it.

Entering into the treatment room dressed in the white bootie shorts and white muscle tank with the logo of the spa emblazoned across the right pec, he smiles at the man laying on the massage table. “Hi, I’m Cal and I’ll be giving you your massage today. Was there anything you wanted me to focus on in particular?”

[tristxnpierce-blog]

imessage ✉️ open.

TP: so, waking up in a strangers bed, no idea where my clothes are, and no memory of the night before, other than the open condom wrapper on the bed side table, definitely isn't the perfect start to the morning.

TP: however, I get stuck meeting the unfortunate sods parents, and feigning some sort of relationship.

TP: the sex definitely wasn't worthy of that excruciating pain.

TP: worse of all, I didn't even get pancakes out of my superlative time.

[arcade-flinger-blog]

Maxim had been out on patrol with a partner on that day and the cliche image of some cops having coffee and donuts while on said patrol was something they liked perpetuating. Of course they loved coffee and donuts, it was almost genetic, the way that their predecessors had loved the treats after joining the force themselves. It was enjoyable and greatly cathartic on their part, what with their stressful jobs and all. He sits on the hood of his car, parked safely on the side as he searches the area with his eyes, still on full alert for a particular goon that’s been causing a ruckus around the neighborhood while enjoying his little snack.

It was usual for him to garner people’s attention just by standing in a place where people can see him, Maxim surmises it’s the uniform, that it draws people to him like moths to a flame, that it’s somehow attractive, and as one comes up to him, asking for his number for a quick hangout, a chat or the prospect of something even more, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Really? I ain’t even getting more donut bribes?” he shakes his head and laughs. “Just going straight to asking my number, huh? Well, just dial 911.” he smirks in a taunting manner then squeezes the stranger’s shoulder gently. “Or you might need to do something really  bad for me to entertain you. That’s always a case for my fast response.”

[unprecedentededict-blog]

The Sign is Always Greener on The Other Side

     Adrian glanced both ways down the street and when he didn’t see anyone looking his way he carefully pulled out a scrollcase. He unfurled the scroll, smoothing it out before posting it on the bulletin board outside the community center. It folded itself in, looking like it had been posted weeks ago. Within a few seconds the signs on the street folded in half then unfolded the wrong way revealing they had changed from 2 hour parking to 3 hour parking. He’d spent a couple hours drafting this one and wasn’t sure it was going to work. Adrian ran across the street, nearly getting hit. He kept moving, shouting apologies. These were still 2 hours. He frowned, when he defined it affecting the whole block he’d assumed it included both sides of the street. It wasn’t using his knowledge, were city blocks somehow a fundamental metric? That was nonsense. When the horn honked again he realized he’d gotten lost in thought in the middle of the street. He jumped out of the way, waving at the man in the car.