With the sacred drips of love

Love, cliché, samey.

It's the urge to drag through this mess of an internet so what holds each hobbyist and salesperson together.

"Love conquers all" is the reductionistic theme of most commercial romances, the status quo is what it does nest to serve the audiences what they want with fairytale endings. A positive attitude, a love with or without a test that is the blip of this earth that simply pushes towards courtship, both for the prescriptive and cautionary uses.

Raw expressions of rudimentary connection made into eloquence, then refined into interpersonal passion, differentiated by love. Physical/mental. A distinction laid out.

All a dream, Theo

What did field dream about what made him leave that mess be his bedroom desk, he had missed the waste basket! The convulsions got to him to miss, something so disgusting yet oddly enough something deep inside him felt like it was a just punishment right.

His last evening's meal desecrate was there, and he could have look into that for so much long normally he was in so squeamish to this so he left.

"On what abomination did I imagine him like that?"

A dismay of the carpet from what came to a fading vision. Questions with no answers. All surrounding Kyro to be that form to see him that way, that was the question that pierced his mind.

A fantasy Butler made to fit his specifications granted by the gift of Castella's Grace was not something that he could imagine to this day, he had called his other servant to clean this. Not his other servant, too many tensions as it is.

The high missionary that will proselytize for the righteous are not meant to be in such a state anyhow, or a those that who claim to be. The shameless boundaries of Internet clout must be getting to his head, his tail wags for a moment.

All a dream, George

Shower scene, nothing explicit. He has to wash.

Nothing is to the books to this George, that is best to know that his work will never go untold when he woke up to Danny's figment.

It was an overload today as a stream were coming to his imagination in an slew of flurries that he couldn't handle. Now it's all gone, like all dreams go. From his little bed, where he couldn't imagine himself to be now.

He's going to have to take a shower, a long one, a cold one, a desperate one. The formalities of his coaching journey with a retired powerlifter will return, it's all going to be solitary now for him because what takes him before. That's okay because he is not going to be that coach who's got a break the etiquette.

Direct approval Direct denial, he can't beat around the bush and drag this out with such a life like his, he's got to tell him.

Rote erotic machinations

Theo is looking at me, punched by Kyro. Looking dead in my soul, my creation. From a pitiful display of what you'd call a porno.

"Looks like it failed ******, the direct response wasn't libidinal pulling enough." He said, trickling through the digital airwaves now.

He doxed me! With censored asterixs.

"As your brand evangelist, vital to your nonprofit freelance living and revenue. Unmeasured though, you know you can't escape my totalizing presence the moment you pressed publish, from the moment you escaped your pitiful eight-year lurking hiatus." 

The punched nose and dead eyes look at me with responsibility. I'm silent, to be silent in fear.

There was a trickle of blood down my nose.

"Yes, feel that? You need me. If you don't, I'll murder you like the rest. Like the brand time and attention you wasted with that multi leveling marketing group, into dirt!"

 

"Shut up!" I retorted. I forced my desktop off at that point.

Next time I started up my comic, his face had returned normal.

Asheal's Yearning

 That moment of first introduction was so awkward, He really doesn't know what it takes to part of the silver lineage. What a devastation!

The way he presented those blue Rose's though was it a new prace offering or one of Castellas tricks??

That c***

I'll not let it get to me, such a parlor game for response rates like romantic scandal between a impartial bodyguard and his defendant should not be made! I'm the top of the game, Theo said so, he said that even when my legs broke.

I know I have it within me to bring it all back.

Sexual/romance wish fulfilment

 Am I mere sexual fulfilment that an adult needs when he matures? Or that of romantic eudaemonia? Either one may overlap, they must fit within two separate camps. A distinction, one comes into libido, another flying away within a fairytale. Quick fire to the kingdom.

Sexual need between romantic yearning, which is sentimental an which is a worthy sentiment?

One in erotic rap, another within sentimental guff. Sexual gratification ain't romantic serotonin, directly. You see the tension, right? One of body, one of mind.

So why do you persist? Putting a your passion and happiness, bothe conflicting and clashing together, then contradicting and separating.

All surface

Gestural, 10 min.

Kyros has a moment of reflection.

"What are these parties and meetings I oversee Theo for? Not for me. That's for certain.

I cannot fathom a lifestyle chasing social media trends that fill up a certain shareholder's slot of satisfaction? His lobbyist is satisfied.

It's not a cult? They say. Yet they worship a path that's not worthy to decode?
Only easy to measure. East to the melted brains of pleasure."

The bodyguard is relaxing, yet all the laughter of the party is causing a disturbance for his antics.

"A spewing of incoherent jibberish.. and intoxication of the surface."

Kyro's does a jaded look-away from the party that's going on within The Silver Manor. He ponders why does he feel so deeply about such an issue.

My sweet fair chap

The grovelling hooded figure is obedient, kneeling to his beloved. With a smitten look.

"To the holy of us all.

My fair chap, you've been lobbying a fair amount with all this activity. Seeing you bow down to me with my fair agreement.

Between merriment, between the lord, between my guidance.

It all means that, with my privilege, that I use fairly to bring the world of Brickshire together. It's within our best interest that you follow my lead.

My sweet, fair chap. It's all coming together. My wisdom will let me through. What makes us takes us.

You made it through your work of convincing legal institutions and government officials other through your speech, yet you're nothing without me.

Do you submit? Sweet fair chap?"

That couch h

For a while, I've been looking at this couch.

No way will I make an odd fetish my selling point. That couch though.

It's making me feel something in this height of all this couch hyping. It looks odd, it looks bizarre, this couch body is making me feel things unbeknownst to what is before.

What is before is that I really, really like couches.

Like like, it too much, is that a fetish? Out of boredom? Out of spite?

Yet out of all things, there's this middle crevice that my fisheye buttons cannot deattach from.

Yet I keep gazing, with ideas.

The ignored trade pitch

Bobby's upholstery has to grow, so here I am, they're sales front given by Vixona. I'm meant to be stared at, as a golem sales front.

With all the anxiety attacks seem to be lesser now, a guy comes in, an adventurous hiker in his twenties.

I doubt that he's a looker, yet I'm encouraged by Bobby to “lay in your pitch and hook, so we could get the pay out, that e effective call to action”

It makes me sick. It's what needs to be done to keep engagement to keep the company growing. The social media numbers and circle, he's obsessed on more.

As his happy golem, I'm meant to serve. A service that makes my guts churn. Open up with a bally then try my best, that's what Bobby will say.

“Welcome to Bobby's! Interested in our leather couches? They are very comfortable!”

The man looked in inquiry, a subtle smile that a couch man will show and flex himself. I tried not to be flirty, it did look eager.

F***

“Oh no, thank you. I'm browsing, thank you!” He said with a grin, I couldn't decipher it.

This fair man reciprocated a grin. Here I am, looking illiterate with cocked blank grin, a deer in the headlights? I knew this literacy will get me to miss opportunities. Vixona was right. I tried to be genuine, the real deal, yet here I am. A desperate pitchman, my reserves have been taken to town within the comfort jungle.

He's still looking.. Not at the leather samples, yet he's looking at me.

I feel my leather creak the throwing up ceases, it ceases since I've got a good prospect to be showing up. Shows that I've been trying. With hidden embarrassment, I flex myself.

“We are fine merchandise!”

There I go again, he gave a chuckle and walked away. After fifteen minutes he had left me.

There I go, objectified myself into something without consciousness, into short term masculine urges. To somebody who may not be gay, or somebody. Felt so hackneyed that Bobby will encourage. All this commercialization was an approaching prison to my own loneliness that I felt like was going to be something unfortunate unless I think of a way out of it.

There's that sales offer, rejected. I breathe a sigh of relief, my love melting into indifference. I've gotton used to it.

Maybe i should of pumped my muscles myself, looked right. I don't know the perfect opportunity though.

Bobby has offered me a showroom gig, with added benefits. I wonder what's that like?

Did it wrong, again. Don't know how to crack it. I don't know anything.

Geos neck rubbing asmr.

"Urgh, again."

“So hey, I'm here to see if any of during coaching stream has come to my neck rubbing, nobody? Oh yeah, you always come, thanks, appreciate your support with all my heart.”

I know I had to do these neck rubbing videos with my neck since nobody is paying attention to my sketching videos, I had moved to coaching video as a side gig, yet this brought the crowd to the moment.

I had set up the ear mike, given a gentle voice with my soft love self, beginning to whisper with my masculine body. Then proceeded.

Fripppp

Frippppth

I stroke my neck across the mike ears. The Bewitched audience took it, fled like crows into the night when I was done, thankfully there were one or two fans that I had nurtured trust. They have become more true fans.

Yet know, I came back. More hackneyed and hollow than before, I'd rather work out or read, yet here I am. Doing the neck thing again.

Friipppppth

Fripppppth

Wow, I need to find a better gig that treats me with dignity.

“I'm afraid this may be the last, I'm going to be having to do other content, with doing home workouts”

The audience, silent. Gave a mystery. I'm not sure who is watch, yet these days, the seventh felt too much. The boredom had got to me.

This offer, I have to do, ain't enough! I hate it!

Himbo, into the modern age.

From action to comedy, They go. Sources Keanu and Krong, With Arnold done fuzzy from memory.

The whore with a heart of gold transitioned, right around 1988 according to this page on memes.

This trend that moves from the fiction of books, into other dimensions where it gets to me. Along with all the work and baggage that entails. This is the current impressions.

Varying degrees of himbo began to emerge. Diverging into the action and romance genre within entertainment.

Falling in love 1968

Dr. Dude 1990

The himbo moved, the himbo evolved in the entertainment sphere. From Pride and Prejudice's himbo Regent Darcy. To lovestruck darlings in the comics within early pulp comics. No word was neologized yet to capture this phenomenon. 

The himbos of the entertainment internet era, they help promote odd, quirky games. Back in 2013. They came with their reactions, they came and did the premotions with their silly faces and made a man out of games.

Sources, This podcast episode on the origin of himbo. Brilliant source of the trope and it's evolution.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/himbos/id1656465616?i=1000606099115

Regardless, They're pretty cute.

Romantic Convention First impressions: longing,

Yeah, illustrating something abstract is sometimes my jam.

"Oh Romeo, wherefore art though Romeo?"

The longing Scene

Soft characteristics may include Standal syndrome, along with the pondering of the soul of internal struggles of the prospecting lover. May brush along with parasocial imaginations that occur with the longing.

This is where the seeing beyond the physical characteristics, if it's merely the physical characteristics though it's dealing with the action-romance sub-genre, that of a stalker within the field of the entertainment.

It can happen after the lovers meet scene, making up the most of the way with discovering some yearning to solve another problem or desiring more of what happens within the internal struggle with the curiosity. This will cause an attraction towards the personality, and the connection can flourish.

Is it in the eyes? Regardless, it goes beyond appearances.

The history of himbo: Origins

Beyond the T.N.A addiction of the teen years.

The deviation of the bimbo from external stimuli. I've discovered it through its reiterations and takes on it through the entertainment medium. Going back from the reality show from Love Island and other romantic tropes.

As I write, maybe it's the tapping within the narrative streams of subconscious that run along with the fields of entertainment fiction. It's only a matter of time that I discover certain ideas that have rhymed, so I'd like to do it with my own take.

The best I can pinpoint is the Hooker with the heart of gold trope within fiction.

Wikipedia has its definitions too.

Originally I was going to make Kieron, yet a character with more screen time and presence within the story may need more development if I was going to give it.

Why did I make a excavator a love interest?

The Start of it all.

During work construction of a path, I took the photo. I had a thought, a thought of romance.

I have no sexual orientation to the object.

From the thrill of trying to make an interest out of nothing. The first thought was Terry Pratchett, golems within his fantastical world. I was thinking, why don't I try my own romantic writing expertise and experience to breathe life into something that is mundane. To make a relationship into something fantastical and a construct that makes it work.

Perhaps it's with the loneliness of the digital age, that there has to meaning and entertainment within a parasocial relationship, to make something a ghost than reality.

When one is in solitary confinement, one must develop relationships with other things otherwise they'd go insane. This is a reflection of that. Was all of this a happenstance of all this?

The calling of creativity. Don't know if it's going to work, which is part of the deal.

Ditchdiggers propriety entrance

Sit as Castella instructed.

Asheal awaits at the Silver Spirit park bench. Waiting for a potential lover to meet.

"Oh, this will be a new relationship, a relationship that's most professional. One that will help hearts.

What an odd set of circumstances, you do what you do for publicity.

I'm ready."

Machinery sounds approach, braking pots, gas exhausting and as it was gentle. It was his guardian. Asheal is nervous, and he turns around.

It's kyro's with his primal form. An excavator with a face on it, it's indifferent gaze scans Asheal, then it's crane moves open. Placing a pile of dirt on the ground. Asheal notices it and gasps from the pile of dirt.

"Oh, It's Lavender! Splendid! Such a charmer!"

Kyro's responds, with a blush. That comment gets to him.

"Uurugtgth!" The excavator said.

"Oh, don't worry Ky, you don't have to say anything. Just examine the view with me!" Asheal said.

A potential scene is with Kyro's longing for Asheal, seen from the perspective of Kyro. All from Asheal's bickering.

Danny finds an opening

On the payphone, once again.

D “Those workshops you recommend blow. I'm taking my carpentry joinery somewhere else. Someone else that can be appreciated.”

? “Why?”

D “The manager is an overworking piece of s*** believing that ain't worth it if I compromise my work-life balance. Reminds me of my dad.”

? “So the perfect environment ain't it? How long do you think your budget will last before your landlord will cast you out?”

D “Three months, dads leftovers can only help me with familial ties, till i got to ask again. I don't know why I'm such a lucky leaper. Beans, rice and bugs with a late teen to care.”

? “Oh, that's good, you can always sleep at my place.”

D “Nah, too much of a hassle with my clients, I can't associate.

? “I'm good at hiding what I do! I promise!

D “No, you're not.”

A pause

D “I've got another plan. There's this coach who owns a sweet pad. He visited the Big Sip?”

? “That gay bar?? Your not thinking-”

D “Well, theres always a chance for me to get lucky.”

? “That dumb brick??”

D “Who owns a gym, has a steady stream of clients and has done nothing but good?”

? “Yet after that outburst? He's on every corporate gyms blacklist?”

D “Shut it! Can't this chance! The way he helps others in the gym with a smile, I'd like to know him.”

? “So be it. There nothing but empty tins rattling in the wind, to obsessed with there size rather than anything meaningful.”

D “You don't know him like I do.”

? “O-Okay, maybe flirt with then, I dunno. Do what have you! Gotta go! Can't let them track me!!”

They said there farewells, that was that.

Kyros rehabilitation date

It's been one month since Kyros is being rehabilitated.

Asheal waits by the seacliff of his silver manor. Several miles away of the Estate.

The view is a sea scape, with dots of sand being caressed by the waves.

All of it was right, for the blossoming relationship of putting a homophobic foreman in redemption.

It was at the time, the shape-shifting mini-excavator. Wanted to show what he had become, in that form.

He waited, on the bench.

An engine approaches. Along with a sound of an exhaust.

“I'd love for you to come out with whatever. I'm ready.”

Asheal reacts, his ears perking up in shock as the excavator with cartoon eyes blushes. It has something in its crane.

“Kyros??”

A groan came from the beast. Shyly looking away. It unhooks its crane, a pile of dirt comes of his italian shoes. A pile of flowers and manure. He yelps, yet it all turned into delight.

“It's my favourite, lavender! I'd kiss you! I-in your humanoid form.”

He can't speak English in this form, only blush. His grunish tongue was rubber, yet it's animated face was enough to show his reciprocation. Contentment.

“Grrrrrth- thh”

“You don't have to say anything, enjoy the view with me, won't you?”

It was peaceful.

Good green box

( Warning: themes of masturbation are discussed here. Viewer discretion is advised. NSFW link at the end. )

The green box.

A chamomile box with the softest touch.

Coach Gurners many rejections of his coaching, of his dedication within ten years of finding clients and finding an attachment.

It was almost masochistic. It's his hiding, hiding that he does not show a real program that helps the self-efficacy of his clients.

Out of his way. Even at this place.

No'd again.

This time it covered his inarticulate proposition he made at a gay club. Towards Danny, who he had no an idea how to articulate a greeting that was polite.

His tribal nomenclature was not gallant or mannerly. His dialect was given by the rough and ready lower classes of Waterlodge. It was rude, in your face. Making the posh parties at Glitter town gasp.

He kept it with his personal coaching job. Agnostic and pruning his words with his clients. Yet it all came out, his turtle pyjamas coming out with inexperience.

"I wanna love you raw in ass "

He fumbled to the carpenter's apprehension. What a way to greet. Rushing out the bar. He could not believe it.

The Green box will cover it.

To conclude, this is the appendix to a short story piece I wrote on so furry.

A romanticized parasocial relationship

"Crud, my winter weight is showing.."

"Darn it, being single my entire life."

Gregor Murphy could not handle it, the relations online that teased him had him since his social media account up.

Things had been disconnected since the crash, being responsible for managing the wild summit. He could not handle it.

A cold message, yet the desperation and loneliness of his desk job just was too much.

"Maybe I'll get blocked for this, i don't know what is or what is not permissible anymore."

Another leap into the void on whether he'll throw a message in a bottle and get it back. Will he get one back, a meaningful relationship online, from all the coaching that ain't filling an itch.

Yet that subtle flirt online of that public meeting felt incredible.

A slight response last time, that will escalate into something. I can't reassure himself.

"I'll send a little flirt back, myself topless. He'd like it, won't he? Urgh, f*** it."

His pseudonym, the delusion, and that virtual touch never felt real to him.

All to this one moment. Beyond his professional coaching, he had to send it.

If it does not resonate, he'll have to move on.

Yet the libidinal relief of sending a message was beyond the point, what it more felt like it is that it mattered. He pushed send, not knowing that it will work.