#logbook check

[chloesimaginationthings]

William Afton has top tier FNAF parenting skills

[indiegame]

some of my favorite japanese maples from today

[artificialperscn]

Jeeeez... as if I needed more jobs at the unit, so now I'm the Cadet - Cadet 1st Class instructor ( also teaching New Entries cos a certain asshat never turns up ), a Divisional Officer ( who has ended up being Divisional Officer of BOTH Divisions cos of that same asshat ), Unit Training Officer, Boating Officer, trainee Physical Training Officer and future 1st Lieutenant. 😂

[tiliqi]

Why everyone talking abt takeover what happened when i was sleeping

[infobotbot]

has anyone tried finding mansenn(the driver) after you finish the phanom oxcart quest?

[onepiexe]

remembered the worst adulting thing that i HAVENT done and now im filled with existential dread

[bestautocare]

Best Auto Care - Paint and Panel Rocklea

Best Auto Care, your premier choice for impeccable paint and panel services in Rocklea. Our skilled technicians meticulously address dents, scratches, and structural damage, delivering flawless results. Committed to precision and quality craftsmanship, we enhance both the aesthetics and value of your vehicle. Trust Best Auto Care for unparalleled paint and panel solutions, ensuring your vehicle shines on the roads of Rocklea.

[tacticalfiend]

maybe it's cuz I'm a FREAKING loser with no friends that want to play TTRPGs with me, but I largely do not like it when role-playing video games have percentage/dice-roll skill checks in them. I get that for a lot of people who enjoy TTRPGs, and CRPGs that take heavy inspiration from them, the dice roll is fun because it adds some chaos and unpredictability to what they're playing. Even a skilled gunslinger might shoot themselves in the foot on a particularly off day. For me though, I find it exceptionally frustrating when I fail a 80 or 90 percent skill check. It takes me out of the roleplay, especially when I've been building a character that's meant to be proficient in what I'm having them perform. It's one of the things I still love about Fallout New Vegas, for instance, since that game doesn't have these sorts of dice roll skill checks (from what I remember). You either have enough points in a certain skill, or you don't. And, when you don't have enough in a particular skill they still give you the option to choose the failed dialogue choice, which is often worded completely differently in a humorous manner from the successful one. VtMB has something similar, but instead of displaying a funny failed option it is just omitted entirely. Which I still like. It made playing characters with different builds have these neat little surprises, as I'd see dialogue choices I didn't even know existed cuz my previous character's subterfuge was too low or whatever. I prefer this "you have it or don't" approach more than skill checks because it keeps me immersed. It encourages me to stick to a build and really play into it. I actually feel like I'm roleplaying instead of rolling some dice and hoping for the best.

[thecountiesinfo]

Process to Clear Your Name and Loans Once Blacklisted on CRB

Sometimes you may be frustrated when seeking services only to find that you have been blocked due to being blacklisted on CRB (Credit Reference Bureau). Listing with CRB is due to defaulted loan facilities that you may have taken with a financial institution. The listing with CRB should not worry you as it is reversible. You can access CRB services from the Metropol website, Metropol Crystobol…

[mydearlybeloathed]

"do not kiss me again"

Whenever you leave a room, you leave a kiss on Zoro’s cheek. It’s become such a habit that you do it without ever thinking (and he’ll deny everything, but he leans toward you when he sees you get up to leave).

Sometimes you did it without ever saying a word, eyes still on the logbook Nami had you double check as you stood to put away your coffee mug. Zoro, still sat in the chair beside yours, barely acknowledges as you cradle the back of his head, angling his cheek toward you to press a chaste kiss there.��

It’s somewhat of a ritual, a way for affection to be shared without the need for words, which neither of you were particularly good with. Sure, the crew rolled their eyes and gagged nearly every time, but they thought it was sweet for the most part (save for the stupid cook).

Luffy would think it's sweet too, if he actually understood, that is. He knows you and Zoro are exclusive cause you love each other and all that jazz, but he doesn’t get that the affection you’ll show each other is reserved for that type of relationship. So after the first ten times he sees you leave a kiss on Zoro’s cheek as you leave a room, he assumes this is some new thing to do. A new way to say goodbye.

Safe to say, Usopp was less than receptive to his farewell leaving breakfast that day.

“Gah! Luffy!”

“They started it!”

You froze at the sink, trying so very hard to not smile, but then you looked at Zoro, and laughter bubbled out of you. “Luffy—” You giggled “—that’s a me and Zoro thing. Like, a me and Zoro thing.”

He blinked slowly, nodding even slower. “Psh, I knew that.”

Usopp was still wiping his cheek with his napkin, shooting his captain a narrowed look. “Do not kiss me again.”

[indiegame]

did so much adulting today. wahoo

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Roommates Wanted! fem!reader x o. aiku x s. ryusei x i. sae introduction

summary: a front desk officer, a professor, an MMA instructor, and an editor walked into a room... what do you get?

tags and themes: roommates au, first meetings, slight crack, very ooc, soccer doesn't exist here

author's note: just a little peek of my take on the roommate au. Also, shoutout to @cheralith for inspiring me with her own fic series - apartment 345. Check that out, it's a fucking masterpiece!!

Check out the Masterlist!!

Divider from @uzmacchiato

For Rent

4-Bedroom Apartment, 1 Bath

Please Call: xxxx-xxxx-xx

Address: XXXXXX

You look at the posting on your phone as you stand at the apartment building in front of you. You have always wanted to rent out an apartment, anyway. And to have roommates? That’s something you’ve always wanted to experience. Living alone in a sad hotel room for 2 years has stunted your ability to see the sun and socialize. So this is a good option.

Upon entering, you were greeted by a small lobby. Well, it wasn’t much of a lobby anyway. There was a small desk manned by a teenage boy, around 17, you assumed. You smiled at him and asked him about the posting. “Ah, you’re here for it too?” He asked, smiling widely. “That makes two of you, then.”

“Two?” you asked, and he gestured to a gentleman sitting on the plush bench across the room. He waved at you, and you waved back, a little shy. “You can sign here first.” The boy handed you a logbook, and you signed your name and your purpose of visit. “My aunt will be here in a while. Have a seat.” And sit, you did. You gave a few inches of space between you and the shaggy-haired man, and you started to look around the interior of the small lobby. “Here for the posting?” He asked, his voice deep and smooth. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes falling to meet his… his heterochromic ones. Wow, you thought. It was the first time you saw eyes like this up close. He must’ve noticed because a lazy grin graced his lips. “You work in a hotel… Y/N?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to how he guessed your name right. He then gestured to the name plate on the left side of your chest, with the hotel’s logo and your name engraved on it. You scoffed lightly and moved to remove it, something you usually do when you leave work. “Ah, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “You?”

“Middle school teacher,” He replied with an air of coolness in his demeanor. No wonder he felt like someone you could easily approach. “Wanna guess what subject?”

“Uh,” you bit your bottom lip as you read him. You pride yourself at being pretty good at this. “Science.” The man chuckled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “No, no. But kinda close. I teach Health and Sex Ed.” You raised your brows at him, and before you could ask, he spoke again. “It’s an interesting subject. And I want to be the one to teach young minds about their bodies and how they work before anyone gives them the wrong idea.”

You nodded, understanding. Pretty passionate, you thought. Just then, footsteps can be heard descending the stairs, and a lady, probably around her 50s, approached you and the man. “Oh, our applicants,” she chimed. “Come, you two. Let me give you a tour of the room.”

The room was on the fourth floor, and by the time you reached the top, your legs were jelly. Stiletto heels and stairs aren’t a good combination, and add the fact that you had a hard shift that day. The lady unlocked the room, and you and the man entered. It was bare for now, but what really made your heart feel at home was the amount of sunlight that streamed through the windows. Airflow was wonderful too. The man moved further into the room and found himself in the kitchen. You heard him hum as he looked around the cupboards, as if thinking about what items to put in them. “The four bedrooms are down the hall, all facing each other. You can check the rooms,” the lady said, prompting you to go further.

You and the man took turns checking the rooms, and you had already decided which one would be yours. “So?” The man asked. “Already decided?”

“What?”

“I’m clearly liking the place, Y/N.”

“You… want to rent this place with me?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Roommates.”

You looked at him for a moment and hummed. “Yeah, sure. That could work. All we have to do is look for the last two to rent the rooms.”

In the end, the apartment was officially yours and…

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked the man as you walked out of the apartment building. “You already know mine, so I should at least know yours now that we’re going to be roommates.” The man smiled at you and showed you his ID instead.

Oliver Aiku.

You moved in immediately since your time is quite limited. Aiku moved that weekend. You also made sure to discuss the boundaries and rules that the apartment should have with Aiku, and he understood. You put him in charge of looking for roommates, as you sent him the design you made on a whim to attract applicants.

“Didn’t know you were a graphic designer too,” he joked, sitting at the dinner table with you. You sat across him, and you kicked his leg under the table. He let out an “ow” as you laughed. “I did my best, professor,” you replied. “You know how busy we get at the hotel.” You heard him laugh softly as he examined the design you made, zooming in on it on his phone. “No need to remind me, babe.”

You had it posted on your social media accounts and online forums, hoping someone would pick it up.

For a while, no calls came in. And it was just Aiku and you. You didn’t mind. Aiku was a warm presence in the apartment, always so mindful of you, especially during the days when you’d come home at 2 in the morning. He’d always save you a plate of dinner, waiting in the fridge for you to reheat and eat.

Eventually, that peace will be disrupted.

It was a cool Saturday morning, and you just left for your afternoon shift. Aiku had already finished grading his students’ essay papers last night, and he had all the free time that day, so he decided to visit the gym nearby. He read somewhere that this gym was pretty popular and offered one-on-one classes for MMA fighting and Judo. Upon arriving, he asked the front desk if the classes accept walk-ins. Lucky for him, it did, and it just happened that the MMA schedule for that hour was open.

Aiku approached the instructor and was amused by his appearance. Tanned skin, lean muscles, blonde hair with pink tips, styled up and spikey. Aiku wondered if the eyeliner on his eyes was just no-budge eyeliner that he applied every day or tattoos, because they still looked clean on his face.

“Yo,” the blonde called out. “You here for the class?” Aiku nodded, dropping his gym bag on the nearby bench. “Yeah. Figured I'd try this out for once.”

“So, a beginner? That should be easy. Name’s Shidou.”

“Aiku, man. Nice to meet ya.”

Shidou was professional, handling Aiku in every drill they did. Shidou was surprised Aiku was able to hold up after the drills, even when he decided to “take it up a notch”, which Aiku was okay with. “Damn, you’re the only one I had today that was able to keep up. Do you usually work out?” Shidou asked as he attempted to tackle Aiku. “Nah,” Aiku grunted. “I don’t have the time sometimes. I’d say it’s the genes.” Shidou barked a laugh as he finally took Aiku down.

As the two were cooling down, Aiku spoke up. “Hey, man. I know this is gonna be weird, but do you know anyone who’s looking for a place to rent?” Shidou frowned at him, confused. “Huh?”

Aiku chuckled as he breathed out. “My roommate and I are looking for two more people to rent out the empty rooms in our apartment. Would be nice to have more people in there.” Shidou groaned, cracking his neck. “Yeah? Where’s it located?” Aiku was quick to grab his phone and show the posting. “Hm, interesting,” Shidou murmured. “Can you send this to me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

That night, at around 10:30 PM, there was a knock on the door. Aiku was alone at the apartment, and he knew it wasn’t you. He knows you have a key of your own, so a visitor at this time was odd for him. He quickly dried his hands before he opened the door to see…

“Shidou?” He asked. “Hey, man.”

They clapped hands, and Shidou grinned at him, baring. “I’m here for the room.”

“You… You’ll rent out one of the rooms?” Aiku asked, a little dumbfounded. Shidou shrugged and replied, “Been looking for a place anyway. You came with an offer, and I’m here to check it out.”

“Alright.” Aiku stepped aside and let Shidou walk inside the apartment unit. He watched as Shidou’s magenta eyes scanned the living room, dining area, and kitchen. “Good place you got here,” he whistled low. Aiku laughed softly, nodding. “Well, the princess and I did all we could to make it homey.”

“Princess? You got a girl for a roommate?” Shidou asked, brow raised. Aiku walked towards him and slung an arm around the blonde’s shoulder. “Yeah. Kinda strict, but she does her best. She should be home in a few.”

Aiku led Shidou to the empty rooms for him to choose which room he’d want, and he chose the one beside yours. Aiku asked him again if he was sure, and Shidou said that he was deadass. So, Aiku quickly briefed him on the boundaries and rules you had laid out, and Shidou was cool with it. Just before Shidou could leave, the doorknob jiggled and the door opened. “I’m home,” you sighed, your head lowered as you kicked your stilettos off. “Fucking hard shift, again.” You dropped your keys on the bowl near the door, and when you raised your eyes to meet Aiku’s, you were instead met with electric pink eyes. You straightened and smiled at him, the way you do when you’re at work. “Oh, hi!” you chimed. “Friend of yours, Aiku?”

Aiku opened his mouth to reply, but Shidou cut him off. “I’m your new roommate. Shidou, by the way,” he said smugly, holding out his hand for you to shake. You reluctantly did, and he gripped your hand a little tighter. “Can’t wait to move in here next week. Thanks Aiku and…” His eyes narrowed, and he grinned. “Y/N.”

Your brows furrowed, and you looked down at your chest. There, your nameplate, still attached to your uniform. “Sure, sure.. See you, Shidou.”

Once Shidou left and the door was locked, you were quick to slap Aiku’s arm. He laughed it off as he rubbed his skin. “Aiku! He’s loud!” You whisper-yelled, and Aiku laughed even more. “Oh, come on. We need the noise. And he’s gonna pay rent and contribute, like you said in the agreement.” You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at Aiku like he adopted a puppy without asking. “What does he do, anyway?”

“A trainer at the gym. A damn good one, too. I met him there today because I took his class.”

“Okay, no more people from the gym. Please.”

Days now become louder with Shidou around. He greets everyone with a good morning way too loudly, sometimes waking you up way too early for work. Aiku had to scold Shidou a few times before Shidou learned when to be loud and not (just in days when you had to deal with your graveyard shifts at the hotel). As time went on, you learned how to appreciate Shidou’s personality as it added a few more colors to the comfortable home you and Aiku started to build first. He was a nice addition to the apartment.

The next month, there was another knock on the door. “You gonna get that?” Shidou said as he drank his protein shake. Aiku, busy with the meal prep for the day, shrugged. “You sure it’s not yours?” He asked Shidou. The blonde quickly shook his head. “Come on, when did I bring someone here? Or invite someone over?” Aiku laughed. “Alright, you gremlin.”

Aiku dried his hands before he opened the door. Standing outside was the most polished man they had seen so far. Suit pressed, neat and plain necktie, and a briefcase in his hand. His eyes were ocean blue, cold and still. His hair, auburn and styled neatly… kind of. “Uh, can I help you?” Aiku asked. He leaned on the doorframe as he watched the man fish for his phone in his pocket. “I’m here for this,” he spoke, his voice calm and cool. He showed Aiku the posting for the room, and Aiku was taken aback. “Really?”

The man nodded and sighed. “Look, I’m just interested in this posting and what the room looks like. It also sounded promising.”

Aiku stepped aside and let the man in, closing the door behind. Shidou grinned and approached him. “Shidou Ryusei,” he said. “Sae.”

“No last name?” Shidou teased, to which Sae sighed. “I have my reasons for not sharing my last name, Shidou.” The blonde raised his hands as he feigned surrender. “Alright, no need to be cold.”

Aiku gave Shidou the look, and he just shrugged. “I’m Oliver Aiku, by the way. Just call me Aiku.” Sae nodded and looked around. Aiku was glad he was able to convince Shidou to clean up, otherwise, the unexpected guest would turn his heels and out the door. Sae ran his hand on the couch that you and Aiku bought second-hand, his eyes scanning the living room. He hummed, as if he was satisfied with it. They watched Sae slowly navigate the dining area as Shidou walked to Aiku, just to whisper, “I bet pretty boy will have a lot of demands.” Aiku nudged his chest as Shidou huffed in pain. Just when Sae found himself in the kitchen area, eyeing the meal Aiku was preparing, a bedroom door opened. “Morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes. Sae focused on you for a moment, a small smile appearing on his face. He was a little relieved that the third person was a girl.

“Y/N,” Aiku called out, “We have a visitor.”

You were met by this polished man, way too polished. You knew immediately he was here for the last spare room, so you fixed yourself quickly, the way that you always do. “Hi,” you chimed, your service industry voice floating. You saw the man’s brows shoot up as yours shot up in return. “Are you here for the room?” Sae nodded, and you were quick to lead him to the said room, the boys watching you be you. “She always does this,” Shidou murmured, “always so polite.”

“Well, that’s her. It’s actually cute. Just let her work her magic,” Aiku said.

When you and Sae stepped out of the room, the boys had a feeling that their little group of four was finally complete. You discussed the boundaries and rules with Sae, and Sae agreed to all. “I’ll move in next week,” he said calmly before he stepped out of the apartment. “Great!” you chimed, your voice reaching a pitch the others never heard. “We’ll see you soon… uhm… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name the whole time.”

“It’s okay. It’s Sae. Itoshi Sae.”

As soon as the door closed, the three of you looked at each other. “So?” You asked the boys. Shidou shrugged and grinned. “He looks like he’s out of place, Y/N. Gotta be honest with you.” You broke your posture and sighed, knowing Shidou was correct. “But he’s so neat. I like him.” Aiku pouted and leaned on you. “But babe, we’re also neat.”

“Yeah, when I ask you guys to clean up.”

“Well, I guess we’re already complete. You think Sae’s gonna work well with us here? He looks like a real quiet guy,” Aiku said.

“You mean judgmental. I don’t like the way his eyes scanned over me like I’m a freak.”

You laughed and patted Shidou’s arm. “Well, you’re our freak.”

“You mean that, sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“Did you catch his last name? Itoshi… Wait a damn minute.”

On that same day, you three discovered that your fourth roommate was rich enough to buy you, your careers, and the whole damn apartment building if he wanted to.

[thirstkanaphan]

Yunho and Mingi checking the monitor for their dance challenge reel...Yunho licking his lips; Mingi biting his lips...oh boy

Even the logbook editor calling them out...

Mingi calling Yunho "senpai" SEVERAL TIMES...practicing until Yunho feels satisfied...Mingi asking how he can do better...oh boy

Yungi nation continues to feast

[topazadine]

Writing Post Masterlist

All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.

Masterlists by Other People (all good)

"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!

"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.

General Advice for a Happy Writing Life

"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.

"Building Self-Esteem as a Writer" - Why you gotta be nice to yourself. You gotta.

"Identifying bad writing advice" - Warning signs that the post you are reading kinda sucks and you should click off.

"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.

"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.

"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.

"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."

"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.

"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.

"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).

"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.

"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.

"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.

Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)

"Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project" - An analysis of the mindset that leads to results, and encouragement on how to develop them.

"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.

"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.

"How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks" - Information about how to develop a prettier prose style, catch errors, develop good dialogue, and focus on brevity.

"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!

"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.

"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.

"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!

"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.

Writing tools

"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!

"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)

"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.

"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.

Worldbuilding

"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.

"How to Kick Ass at Worldbuilding" - I offer some suggestions on how to create a grounded and interesting world that will not bore your readers, based on real life examples.

"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.

"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.

"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.

Plotting

"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.

"Avoiding Melodrama In Your Writing" - The most annoying all things: melodrama. My least favorite thing. Do not do it. I will show you how.

"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.

Description

"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.

"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.

"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.

"Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity" - Wherein I explain how to stop having boring descriptions by packing in characterization.

"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.

"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.

"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.

Characterization

"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.

"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.

"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.

"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.

"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.

"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.

"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.

"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.

"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.

Revisions

"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.

"How to Avoid Purple Prose" - A critical part of the revision process is making sure your writing is clear and balanced. In this post, I show a blatant example of purple prose and provide suggestions on how to make a more elegant passage.

"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.

"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!

"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.

Publishing

"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)

"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 1: Mindset Edition)" - I talk about how being delulu is not the solulu, that yes marketing is important (even if it is horrible), and how a bit of self-confidence can go a long way.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 2: Presentation Edition)" - Graphics and covers and blurbs! Learn about them. Do not do what I did.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 3: Ads and Reviews Edition)" - Why you have to get reviews. You gotta. And you gotta demand them. Shake those reviews out of your readers. You'll thank me later.

Specific Research Advice

"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!

"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.

"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.

"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.

"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.

"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.

"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!

"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!

Little Funsies

"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.

I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.

[chibinasuu]

Matched | Franky x Reader

Summary: Franky gave you a new arm after you lost yours in a battle Tags: hurt/comfort, depictions of canon-typical violence, limb-loss, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Steel clashed against steel as you desperately swung your sword, blocking the Marine Captain’s machete aiming for your neck.

You cursed loudly. You hated one-on-one combats. 

It had been quite some time since you joined the Straw Hats as a chronicler, tasked with recording all of your adventures in a logbook that you were sure would one day become an epic legend told for generations to come.

But despite all of the battles you’d gone through during your journey with the crew, you found that you never really got used to it. You weren’t a fighter to begin with and you tended to avoid violence as much as possible. 

You had gotten quite handy with a crossbow after extensive target practices with Usopp, but Zoro had insisted that you should learn short-range combat as well to defend yourself, just in case. 

Well, turned out he was right, because “just in case” was happening right now. 

Even after hours and hours of sparring with Zoro and Brook, the sword still felt awkward in your hands. You parried the Marine’s attacks, keeping your guards up. 

Defense, defense, and defense. That was all you had been doing. 

The Captain never let up his attacks, all of his moves going in for the kill. 

Your stamina was running out. Each swing of your sword got heavier and heavier. Your arms were just about to give up when… There. Finally an opening. 

You stepped your foot forward as you slashed your sword upward. The marine grunted as he stumbled backward, a deep gash now running from his abdomen to his left shoulder. 

Your triumph was short-lived as the Captain’s grimace turned vicious. He called you a foul name before surging toward you, swinging his blade in unbridled fury. 

His machete dug deep into the shoulder of your dominant arm, and you screamed in anguish as blinding pain overtook you. Your sword clattered to the ground. Blood gushed through the wound, but you refused to even look at it, knowing that you likely wouldn’t be able to stomach the gore. 

You could only lie on the ground in defeat, with no strength left in you.

This is it, you thought. All of your crewmates were busy with their own battles. No one was coming to save you.

The blood loss made your head spin, and you felt your consciousness fading fast. The last thing you saw was the Captain’s ferocious grin as he brought his blade down to finish you off. 

You were pretty sure you were hallucinating when you heard a distant shout of “Weapons Left!”

Right. It must’ve been just your wishful thinking that your knight in shining armor would come to your rescue. 

You felt your tether to life slowly draining away, then everything went dark.

Bits and pieces of conversation flowed through your ears as you slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Calm down, Franky… stable now… Chopper did everything he could.”

“…my fault. If only I had come earlier…“

You still felt disoriented when you finally regained your awareness for good. You tried to open your eyes, but immediately shut them again as the bright light of the infirmary invaded your vision. 

“You’re awake.” The familiar gravelly voice of your shipwright greeted you, accompanied by a long, shaky sigh of relief, “Let me grab Chopper.”

He was back in a flash with the ship’s doctor in tow. You were only half alert, lying still on the patient bed as Chopper listened to your heartbeat through his stethoscope, shone a light in each of your eyes, and did the rest of his mandatory checks.

When the doctor declared that everything seemed to be in good shape, Franky escorted the little reindeer out, muttering softly just out of your earshot, “You did well, bro. I’ll take it from here.”

Franky sat on a chair by your bedside, giving you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You managed to croak out weakly, “What happened? How long was I out?”

“Well, we won the battle. You were heavily injured, but we managed to get you to Chopper in time.” He explained, “And you were out for three days—we’re well on our way to the next island now. The Marines’ backup gave up their pursuit yesterday after we used coup de burst to widen the distance.”

You took in his thorough explanation, but you couldn’t push away the nagging dread that he was still withholding some key details. 

Your instinct turned out to be right when he cautiously asked, “Are you feeling any pain in your shoulder?”

“No…” You said hesitantly. The last thing you remembered was an unbearable pain running down your shoulder through your arm, but now, you couldn't feel anything at all. Your heart sank as the worst thought crossed your mind. 

Your chest tightened as you quickly uncovered the blanket with your uninjured hand, and gasped in horror at the sight that greeted you.

Your breath came in quick and shallow as panic overtook you, hot tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Franky, my arm.” You wailed, “Where’s my arm?!”

Violent sobs racked you as you repeated the words over and over in shock and disbelief. Franky pulled you into a tight hug, gently stroking your hair as he shushed you, “I know, I’m sorry. Chopper did his best, but he had to make the hard decision. It was either your arm or your life.”

A million different emotions rushed through you—from fear to denial, to anguish and grief. Franky held you through it all. 

Your tears and snot were making a mess on his bare torso but neither of you cared. 

After what felt like hours, the steadiness of his strong hands around you slowly led you into a somber calmness. 

“Poor Chopper,” You mumbled into the cyborg’s chest, “He must’ve been a mess when he realized he needed to chop my arm off.”

Franky chuckled, “It’s so like you to think of others even in times like this.”

Amid the silence that followed, you couldn’t stop the creeping self-doubt that wormed into your head. 

You were the crew’s chronicler and now you had lost your ability to write. Even if you trained your non-dominant hand, it would be a good while until you would be able to write again. What use would you be to the crew if you couldn’t write? You’d just be deadweight to them. 

As if he could read your mind, Franky tipped your chin up with his fingers, “Hey, you know we wouldn’t love you less just because you had one less arm now, right?”

He held your face in between his large metal hands, forcing you to look at him as he firmly said, “This doesn’t make you less. You’re still our super chronicler no matter what.”

Your eyes flitted away from his intense gaze. You wanted to believe him. You knew his words rang true, but still, you found it difficult to accept. 

At your heavy silence, he added, “Maybe I can build you a voice-activated robot that could write for you. Or heck, you can dictate your words to me and I’ll write it for you.”

That actually managed to coax a small smile out of you, but it wasn’t long until your eyes were filled with fresh tears.

“I want to write again, Franky.” You said in a small voice as you buried your face in his chest once more, “With my own hand.”

He stroked your hair slowly, “Well, I can’t give you back your arm, you know that.” You felt a soft kiss on the top of your head before he continued, “But I can make you a new one, if that’s what you wish.”

You looked up at him, “You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, sugar.” 

For the next few days, Franky locked himself up in his workshop, only coming out for meals and bathroom breaks. The guys noticed that he didn’t return to the boys’ quarters at nights, and they wondered if he was even sleeping at all. 

Meanwhile, you were steadily recovering under Chopper’s meticulous care. You could even bear the sight of your missing arm now without bursting into tears. 

The doctor helped you adapt to your non-dominant hand through small exercises like brushing your teeth, and feeding yourself the soup that Sanji made for you.

One night, you heard a knock on the infirmary’s door. 

“Come in!” 

Franky poked his head in and grinned, “How’s my favorite chronicler doing today?”

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite shipwright!” You chuckled, “I’m doing better, I guess.”

“I got a surprise for you,” He said as he entered the room. He was carrying a long item, wrapped in pristine sailcloth.

He sat by your bed and pulled the shroud away, unveiling what he had been tirelessly working on the past few days. 

The disembodied arm looked, for lack of better words, human. He got your skin tone exactly right, and when you ran your fingers over it, the surface felt eerily similar to human skin. The only part left bare was the shoulder joint.

Franky saw you eyeing all of the metal parts and wires sticking out of it.

“Ah, we can cover that up with the synthetic skin, once we attach it to you.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Although I still need to figure out a way to make the covering easily removable, so we can do regular maintenance.”

He made a point by popping open the panel on his own red and bulbous shoulder. You stared in wonder at the complex wiring of the inside of his arm, marveling at the genius of this man in front of you.

You turned your sight toward the rest of him, for once taking in the various metal parts that made him, him. You never really bothered to scrutinize the details—it had never mattered much to you. For you, he had always just been… Franky. 

You traced your eyes over his mechanical arms and hands, the metallic parts that ran from the middle of his thighs down to his ankles, and of course, his cute metal nose that you just loved to press out of nowhere to mess with his hair.

You had never seen a more beautiful and magnificent man. 

Shame suddenly rushed through you for ever doubting yourself and thinking of yourself as less just because you lost an arm. Here was a cyborg standing before you, and yet you had never known someone more human than him.

You looked again at the prosthetic arm Franky made you, touched that he was doing all this for you.

“It looks amazing, Franky.” You told him as the tears you were trying to hold back finally spilled over and slid down your cheeks, “Thank you.”

“I’m super glad to hear that.” He grinned, "And don't worry, I'll figure something out for the shoulder. I promise, once it's attached, you won't even notice it's made out of metal."

You smiled softly at him, "Actually…”

Franky’s grin widened as he listened to your request, “Sure, doll. If that’s really what you want.”

Franky stood behind you as you stared at your reflection, admiring your new limb.

Your shoulder was now capped with a red, metal guard—easily removable for maintenance access, of course. A yellow stripe wrapped around the middle, with a star and “BF-14106” written on it in bold lettering. Franky had modeled it to fit the rest of the arm perfectly, tastefully compact and not bulky at all. 

You grinned and gazed into Franky's eyes through the mirror, “Look, we match.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

You admired the arm some more, before Franky turned you to face him, asking you to test out the motoric movements under his guidance.

He asked you to make a fist, then to open it, then to wiggle your fingers. He asked you to bend your elbow, to raise your arm, and then put it back down. A series of other movements followed until lastly, he offered you a quill and a parchment. You hesitated for a second, but took the quill at his nod of encouragement. 

Your whole body trembled—with nerves, yes, but mostly in excitement. 

You dipped the quill into the ink, then carefully guided it across the parchment to write your name. Your movement was slow and awkward, and your script was far from neat, but you couldn’t stop the tears of joy from flowing. With a bit of practice, you'd be ready to fill up your notebooks again with thrilling tales of the Straw Hats' adventures.

“Oh, Franky! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You leaped at him and he readily caught you. His laughter echoed alongside yours as he spun you around despite the tight space of the infirmary, only putting you down after nearly toppling Chopper’s chair over.

You grabbed his face in between your hands and peppered his cheeks with loud kisses.

At times like this, Franky wished he could switch off his receptors at will, because try as he might, he couldn’t prevent his whole face from going bright red at your affection. 

A few days later, Franky checked up on you in the library as you practiced your handwriting over and over again on a piece of parchment.

Your script had gotten much better, and gone was the awkwardness of using your new cyborg arm. As expected of Franky's handicraft, it truly felt as if it was your own.

"Hey," Franky called out, "Arm's okay?"

"It's perfect!" You beamed, "Thanks again, Franky. I owe you tons."

Franky shook his head and smiled softly, letting you know for the thousandth time that you didn't owe him anything.

Your eyes went to your shoulder, once again studying the "BF-14106" painted there. You had told Franky that you wanted the same markings as his, but he had chosen those numbers himself.

Your curiosity finally won out this time as you asked the cyborg, "Hey, Franky, if you’re BF-37, and General Franky’s 38, shouldn’t I be… BF-39? Why this long string of numbers? Do they mean anything?”

Franky looked away from you and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, his face tinted with a pink hue, “Ah… it's a secret. I’ll tell you someday.”

Looking at his reaction, an inkling of what it might mean suddenly popped into your head. You felt your cheeks heat up as your mind connected the dots, but you stayed silent.

You’d wait until he was ready.

And when he was, and if it was indeed what you suspected, you’d readily say it back. 

a/n: this fic had been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally decided to finish it in time for franky's birthday! i've been hesitant to share this fic since it's quite outside my comfort zone, and i'm still not confident that i was able to convey all the feelings properly, but i hope you enjoyed reading this anyway <3

╰┈➤ masterlist

[raspalace]

Ra’s Palace

Hello, this is my very first story and I’m excited to share it with you all. I have had a lot of inspiration from past TF writers and current ones. I would like to say thank you to @bizzhideaway and two of my friends for helping me with this story. I hope y’all enjoy! :)

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It was the night of Halloween and as a 21 year old grad student, I was looking forward to having a night to escape from the stress; a simple night. When I came to the party, I noticed the amount of individuals participating in black face and immediately felt uncomfortable; without hearing a single excuse or plea, I left to explore the town.

Since moving to this university for grad school, I haven’t had time to see what this town was like or the history of it. While in my thoughts, I precariously walked to an area of the abandoned downtown. It wasn’t until lightning struck and rain started to pour that I noticed the door to an abandoned rundown hotel was opened and I decided to go in to escape the harsh weather. The lobby had an eerie aura to it with furniture that was covered in cobwebs and the floor was white from the collection of dust. How long has this place been here? I wondered and walked over to the check in desk that was also a bar, checking the rusted logbook and seeing that the last check in was 50 years ago.

I closed the book and went to explore the lobby some more, finding a picture of the hotel’s owner. It was a handsome Arabic male that went by the name Rasheem Ahmir. I pulled out my phone to see if I could look the man up but my phone lacked reception. I looked up at the picture once more and chuckled a bit, “I wish I could learn about you and what caused your hotel to end.” Lightning struck and a roar of thunder followed, causing me to look back at the entry doors before I turned back to the photo and saw that the man was no longer there.

“What the hell?” I asked aloud and started to head over to the picture until the doors to another room flew open and banged against the walls. I knew that I should have left then and there, but something was telling me to investigate and so, I cautiously walked to the doors and saw that it led into a theater room. As soon as I walked in, the doors quickly shut and the screen began counting down from three to one. I grabbed a seat in the front row in the center and was surprised at how comfortable the seats were even though they were old.

The video began and explained how Rasheem grew up in the Middle East as a child before moving to the states in hopes for a new beginning in the American Dream. Unfortunately, he was met with racism and anguish towards him and his community, but that didn’t stop him from working hard and eventually opening up his own hotel, Rasheem’s Caravanserai. A place where people of all likes can rest and network with each other to expand their businesses. Rasheem started a family with his African wife and their son and their community was growing and prospering as the buildings on the block being used for businesses from cultures around the world, but the video suddenly cuts to the hotel and other buildings being on fire with no police or firefighters in sight to help the civilians or put out the fire; the video ends.

I wiped a tear from my eye and clapped in the empty theater. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Ahmir but you created a welcoming community and I applaud you for that. I wish I could see what this block was like in action. If I could avenge your sacrifice and death, I would.” I spoke, thinking there wouldn’t be a response, but I thought wrong as a question popped onto the screen.

‘Is that so?’ It said as the screen began to flicker.

“Uh…yea, I understand being in a community that prospers, but ends in despair.” I responded and looked around the room to see if there was a person or spirit but there was no one. The screen turned off and the room was dark; I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Moments sitting in a dark unfamiliar room peaked my anxiety as I began to hyperventilate in the chair with my legs numb.

The screen flashed on and I noticed that I was naked in the chair which caused an immediate panic, trying to force myself out of the chair but my body wasn’t listening to my commands. A spinning spiral appeared and my eyes fixed on to it as a thick musk smell flooded in through the vents.

You are being made anew. Relax and breathe.

Getting out of a panic attack would usually take me hours but I found my heartbeat slowed to a normal pace as I took deep breaths, inhaling more of the smelly air into my system. Moans began playing off of the speakers as the spiral continued and I blushed, feeling myself feel aroused and my pussy becoming wet.

“Fuck..” I spoke lowly as my body began grinding my pussy against the fabric in the chair, my juices soaking it. The musk in the air became thick and I tried to cover my nose from the pungent smell but I still couldn’t move on my own.

You are a man.

I raised an eyebrow at the next prompt and let out a soft laugh. “I’m not a man, I couldn’t imagine being one.” With the spiral still present, the screen showed videos of Arabian men working or playing sports while shirtless. Their muscular build covered in body hair, their sharp faces, and pronounced bulges added to my arousal as I felt a hand play with my clit and the lips to my leaking pussy. I moaned loudly as my eyes were transfixed on the screen and my mind fogged from arousal and the thick smell.

You are a man.

You have always been a man.

You spend a lot of time around other men.

I knew that I should be protesting against the suggestions, but memories of using male pronouns and others referring to me as a male flooded my mind. My small, delicate feet grew from size 6 in women’s to size 10 ½ in men’s, the once soft skin becoming calloused from days running. My thighs and calves spasmed as they grew in muscle and fat from the heavy deadlifting in the gym.

A pair of cold hands groped my breasts and teased my nipples as my breasts grew busty before forming into thick bouncy pectorals with sensitive nipples to compliment them as my shoulders broadened to help support the new weight and my back stretched causing my height to change from 5’3” to 5’10”. My stomach grew hot as defined cum gutters appeared in a six pack and my curves softened into a more defined silhouette, my hips narrowing and my waist tightening.

My arms and hands were next as muscles protruded underneath my skin; biceps and triceps growing big as footballs and my hands became larger with thicker calloused fingers, my nicely trimmed fingernails became rugged and chipped. My pussy leaking like a faucet from the new set of muscles and strength. My neck became thick with an expanding vocal cord as my moans cracked in pitch before it stayed at a baritone range. My hair shortened into a buzz cut as bones in my face cracked and shifted, developing sharper cheekbones and a more angular face yet I could grow more plump than before. ‘But what for-’

My thought was cut off as a hand rammed into my pussy and I groaned loudly as my ovaries were slowly pulled out of me, thick wet testicles now hanging between my legs. I squirmed in the seat as my clitoris adjusted its position and grew to an average 5 inches. The groping, wandering hands let go of my body as I panted heavily and looked down at my new body.

“Th-this can’t be happening!” I yell in shock before my eyes were pulled back to the screen.

This is your body. This has always been your body.

As foggy as my mind was, a pain struck and memories of going out dress shopping and getting periods were replaced with wearing suits and spending time in the gym. With a shake of my mind, I am convinced that I’ve always been a man and have known no other life.

You are your mother and father’s son.

‘Mother and father’ I think to myself as my mind couldn’t pull an image for them while my skin tone shifted subtly, taking on a lighter tone with a rich golden undertone and my eyes lightened to a soft blue. My jawline became more defined as my cheekbones elevated, freckles painted my face as tight curls grew from my scalp. My ass became thick with fat, a gift from my mother, which caused the seat to groan and dent inwards. Dark body hair covered my torso, legs, arms and pits while lightly dusting my arms and ass.

You are your father’s BOY.

This is your HOME.

‘Boy’ rang through my mind as I continued to think of my parents and images of Rasheem and his wife – no, my mother, Nakia. Memories of living in the hotel as my father worked endlessly and my mother entertained guests with her voice and song. With every memory, the hotel became alive with a clean atmosphere and lively architecture and lightning. The screen became modern and the seats became reclining armchairs; my chair reclined with my legs lifted as the theater lights dimly lit. Unfortunately, my mother died and I took on more responsibility when I was 21– wait.

“I am 21, what do I mean when I was?” I asked as I snapped out of the fog and noticed that my body was covered in a maroon suit that tightly sculpted my muscles and juicy ass; the sight caused my dick to rise.

You are my boy, my good old boy.

The words were not only popping on the screen but along with the moans, the speakers announced the words in my father’s deep voice. ‘Boy’. Once again it bounced through my mind as I thought hard to understand why.

You are DUMB.

I felt a sharp pain in my temple. I still wanted to help this ghost, my father but I didn’t want to be an airhead. “I’m not dumb I’m graduating from graduate school next week!”

You are DUMB. No university, no education outside from mother and I

You enjoy WORKING OUT

You enjoy SEX

SIMPLE LIFE.

Be a good OLD DUMB BOY.

With the freedom to move my hands and arms, I gripped my head. I had always prided myself on my sharp mind, quick wit, and deep understanding of complex topics. Yet, those qualities began to vanish as a deep fog clouded my mind once more. My once-vibrant thoughts were dulled by the heaviness that settled in and my ability to analyze and process information faded and my speech became simpler and fragmented, enjoying simplicity over deep discussion. I let out a low guffaw as my lips parted to forever stay open and eyes dulled. Recollection of sports trophies and barely understanding the teachings from my father and mother replaced academic awards and groundbreaking seminars. My ambitions to become a world shattering businessman dwindled to staying in my hometown and reopening the hotel, working out and fucking in my free time; I might even try to fuck while working. I was the owner of the hotel after all.

With this acceptance, a rush of tingling coursed through my body as my smooth skin gradually developed fine lines, crow’s feet forming at the corners of my eyes. My vibrant complexion gave way to a more weathered texture as my jawline grew stronger yet softer with age as a luscious beard covered them and my hairline receded. My posture shifted as my back straightened from experience and wisdom yet my muscles grew in size and definition, instead of sagging, gasping for freedom against my clothes; my skin grew thicker as veins stood out more prominently on my hands and arms. My body hair grew wild and thick, dusting a salt and pepper color.

I wasn’t currently 21 aiming for a degree in business, I was 43 reopening the hotel from the insurance money that my parents saved and some of my life savings as well.

That’s my good BOY.

It finally hit me. When my mother passed while I was 21, I took on responsibilities that were my mother’s then some more. My father introduced a brothel as part of the hotel and it was mine to oversee. It was there that I flourished. It was there I became my father’s Baba’s boy. My dick grew to full mast while leaking precum into my trousers. Memories of Baba teaching me how to suck, fuck and be fucked as I became everyone’s first choice when they came to the brothel and I pleasured them all, some lasting a few minutes, others lasting hours. I palmed my erection while grinding my ass against the seat as my hole loosened from years of pounding.

You are now the man of the Ahmir family. You have the power to CHANGE others.

I groaned loudly as I arched my back from my throbbing dick pressed against the crotch of my trousers before I pulled it out. The screen played videos of group sex of men and women and I stroked my dick roughly, it grew to a girthy 11 inch and my balls hung low, becoming the size of oranges; thick bushy hair covered my balls and the base of my dick. A wave of electricity ran through my veins and a new sense of undiscovered power overwhelmed me.

The spiral quickened and the moans from the video grew louder.

You are DUMB.

Drool pours from the corner of my lips. My mind free from stress and real responsibility.

You like SEX.

Fucking men and women alike brought me pure pleasure. I wore only jockstraps as underwear.

You WORK OUT.

I had to stay in the gym to keep my body strong.

You are AFRO-ARAB.

Teachings from my parents about the similarities and differences of their cultures brought a deep connection and pride to my race and ethnicity, gaining knowledge of Arabic and Swahili languages while my English diminished to the basics and my American accent swept away with a guttural one.

You are RAFI AHMIR.

Ropes of cum decorated my suit and the chair as I let out a deep moan, panting from the best jerk off I’ve had in awhile. I chuckled to myself as I stood up and new foreskin grew from the shaft, the extra skin covering the head of my dick as it started to soften before placing it into my cum soaked jockstrap before cleaning myself up. I left the theater to find the hotel vibrant with up to date furniture and a mix of African and Arabic architecture, the thick musk scent filled the hotel yet I was used to it. I went behind the check in desk and bar and looked at the old logbook, waiting for the first guest victim to walk through the doors.

The bell rang as the door opened and I smiled.

“Welcome to Ra’s Palace!”