#this was meant to be a short story because I didn't feel inspired

[ffxivtribehydrae]

#14 Clear

For FFxIvWrite2023 Characters: Chimeg Uyagir, Zo'ogai, Zo'tall Warnings: Dysfunctional family

It was so obvious, wasn’t it?

Yet she had clung to the hope that it wasn’t as it appeared. It was just a phase they needed to get over. After all they had both been thrust into such a big change in their lives. He just needed time to get used to it, and she’d be patient.

And Chimeg had been patient for many cycles. Endured the loneliness of whenever her supposed husband turned away from her at night, only knowing his back when she sought some kind of connection. Struggled to keep up the façade of a happy family, raising his son essentially on her own, as leaving the boy with his father had just resulted in displeasure from the man she thought she had feelings for. Comforted herself with the idea that things would change as their son grew older, perhaps he simply struggled with small children or was shy to get close to her as their first meeting to being married happened so fast.

Zo’tall was about to turn four when she began to doubt any change would ever occur, that perhaps her husband had untold feelings about her he did not share. Did he change his mind about them being together, and when, in that case? No, she wouldn’t lose faith that easily, Nhaama wouldn’t lead her into such a cruel fate as this.

She tested him. She sought the touch of another, as discreet as she could, having learned the ideals of this tribe that were they caught, they’d both be in for punishment. The man was not of Hydrae blood, married into the tribe just like her, which was all she cared about knowing of him.

Would he be jealous? If he truly loved her surely her announcement of being pregnant would incite some sort of feelings, which they could hopefully speak about, and make amends for her conspiring. Even if anger was what greeted her, she’d take it.

But Zo’ogai said not a word while the tribe congratulated them both on the family expansion. He’d just looked at her. Her husband and supposed love had nothing to say about her sin, even if they both knew the last time they shared an intimate touch was far before their son was born.

Even Zo’tall was more interested when his half sister was born. It left the mother lost and confused. She didn’t allow herself grief; she was too far gone into this life to turn around now, wasn’t she? But no longer did Chimeg try earning Zo’ogai’s attention, and no longer did she force their son to spend time with an uninterested father.

Then when her partner in crime sought her out with the suggestion of a second sin, she agreed, there was nothing left to lose. A final few moons when she suddenly saw their relationship for what it really was, unobstructed by her feeble hopes and dreams. He wasn’t even present upon the birth of her second son. It had been so obvious all these years, in his every action- or lack thereof. Why had he brought her here then? Did the time they spent together in her home, among the Uyagir mean so little? Clearly he had played her for whatever selfish gains he held.

And so she decided, it was better to take the risk starting anew, take the risk fleeing alone into the night. Yes, in the morning she’d take her children, grab what provision she could carry and leave. While all lay asleep, she cradled a baby boy, held her daughter tight by the hand and gazed down at her first born.

As time passed she had seen more and more of the boy’s father in his features. From the blue eyes, to the unruly hair, to the pinkish highlights. She saw the man who brought her so much pain so clear in the boy that she couldn’t bear the thought of bringing him with her. Lest she wanted to be constantly reminded of the face whom stolen so much of her life already.

Before the sun’s rays had illuminated the forest, she ran. In the hopes she could reclaim her life somewhere else. She did not care for the fate that awaited her now ex husband and abandoned child. Perhaps it was cruel, but for once in her life, Chimeg chose herself.

[toast-the-unknowing]

on fanfic plagiarism

Almost five years ago, in January of 2019, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "Word on the Street," had been plagiarized.

I remember that the stolen fic was posted in k-pop fandom, though not what specific band it related to -- I'm not into k-pop, or really into pop music at all.

I remember that the person who messaged me told me that they had found my fic because the plagiarist had a reputation for stealing fic, so when they'd posted a new story, this person had known to do some digging.

I don't remember what the plagiarist's username was. I remember scanning the stolen story, trying both to read every detail and to avoiding taking any of it in, because looking at that right-but-wrong, not-quite-there, uncanny-valley-ness of it made me queasy.

I remember being darkly amused that the plagiarist had cut out the reference to the main character suffering physical abuse at the hands of his father -- I guess it didn't make sense in the context of the new character. It's almost like the story wasn't written for him. It's almost like someone wrote the story about Adam Parrish, instead.

I filed an AO3 complaint, on the grounds that this was a blatant and unarguable violation of their plagiarism policy. Within twenty-four hours, they got back to me, and the story was removed.

It was a weird, uncomfortable, gross feeling, knowing someone had taken words I'd written and passed them off as their own.

But at the same time -- "Word on the Street" was a silly thing I dashed off pretty quickly, during a period of my life when I was doing a lot of writing. It hurt to have it stolen. It was a violation. But…I had other words, that were more important to me. Maybe that was a buffer.

-

Last month, about six weeks ago, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "there's talk going 'round this town," had been plagiarized.

I was, bizarrely, amused.

I was less bizarrely furious. I was understandably, relatably, I would say rationally, furious. But in a way (and as always, when I say in a way, I am calling back to the scholars of overthinkingit.com for whom in a way is meant as the thing I have just said or am about to say is false) -- in a way, I was amused.

The plagiarist clearly did a 'find and replace' on the character names, to replace Adam and Ronan's names with those of k-pop characters. They did a bad job of it, since the name "Ronan" still appears in one paragraph and the name "Parrish" still appears in two paragraphs. The fic is here, in case anyone doesn't believe me, under the name "i do(n't remember)". At first when I complained about the fic on tumblr, I didn't mention the name, or which fic they'd stolen, because I was worried about anyone…I don't know, making a scene. I've stopped caring. AO3 user springguk is bad at find and replace and they should feel bad. About their computer skills, and also about their blatant plagiarism.

springguk also did some more edits to my fic, I have to give them credit for that. I wrote "there's talk going 'round this town" within a relatively short time span, for me. I tend to either finish things within one week, or else take several months. I believe this one took about five or six weeks completely to write -- I was very inspired.

(I was inspired, specifically, by the press coverage of Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves 'discovering' they might be 'accidentally' married. I mention that in my author's notes. springguk doesn't mention what 'inspired' them in their author's notes. I wonder how they talk about it with friends. They do, in their author's notes, include a link to their ko-fi, and a request that people buy them a coffee.)

If I'd taken longer with this fic, I might have made some edits. Even at the time, I knew I was being self-indulgent in letting the scene with my teenage female OC talk at such length with Ronan about what his non-canonical film career had meant to her, a person the audience didn't care about. But I had fun. I liked Fox. I didn't want to cut her, and what the hell, it was fanfic. I decided to self-indulge.

I was darkly amused to find that springguk did cut out the scene with Fox from their plagiarized version. Maybe springguk is a more disciplined editor than I am. Maybe springguk just didn't have a good k-pop character to map Fox onto. Maybe springguk didn't even realize that Fox was an OC. Do you know anything about the fandom you steal fics from, springguk? I can't help but wonder. Have you read The Raven Cycle? Do you care about teenage OCs who steal cars because of fake films that are clearly meant to be stand-ins for The Fast and the Furious franchise?

Maybe springguk just didn't give a fuck, because none of their heart and soul was poured into this fic. I cared too much about Fox. springguk doesn't care about a single word in the fic they published. Why would they? They didn't write it.

I'm being a little mean in naming them so many times. But I'm able to, this time, because although I filed a plagiarism complaint with AO3 six weeks ago, springguk's stolen fic "i do(n't remember)," is still available to read on AO3 to this very day. I don't have to wrack my brains to remember what their username was, or which k-pop band they recast my work with. I can just look at their fic with its 24 comments and 151 kudos. Hell, maybe that fic is even better than mine, if you don't mind that by cutting the sequence with Fox they've sacrificed a fairly substantial development in the romantic relationship, and also if you don't care that at one point the characters names switch from Jeongguk and Taehyung to Ronan and Parrish, because seriously, for fuck's sake, if you're going to steal a fic at least do a goddamn ctrl+f at the end.

I was mad. I was amused. I made a complaint that the AO3, six weeks later, has still not acted on. I mostly moved on.

-

Tonight, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now," had been plagiarized.

I wanted to vomit.

I was supposed to be playing Dungeons and Dragons online with friends tonight; I spent the entire call unable to focus on anything anyone was saying. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on camera and my face wasn't supposed to look like that.

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is the first of a series of, currently, twelve fics. skytoseungmin, the person who stole it to pass it off as their own work, knew this. Their stolen version was published as part one of a series, though they hadn't published any of the sequels. Presumably, they wanted to wait long enough to make it plausible they'd gone and written the follow ups, instead of just finding them.

skytoseungmin likely didn't know that this fic and this series are intensely personal. They didn't know that the apartment that Adam -- Seungmin, in their ill-gotten version -- lives in, that was based in part off of the apartment I lived in for a year in Pico-Robertson with talldecafcappuccino. They didn't know that the 7-Eleven Adam buys coffee at is the same one I used to tease talldecafcappuccino for buying coffee at. They didn't know that the strip club where Adam and Ronan have their humorously ill-timed romantic revelation outside of, that was the strip club I used to use as a landmark when giving people directions for how to navigate the confusing as fuck freeway exit I lived near, which once caused me to accidentally tell my highly Catholic parents "just go past the strip club and you're good!"

skytoseungmin didn't know that the apartment Adam -- sorry, Seungmin, thoroughly, they were better with find and replace than springguk -- lived in, was also based off of my ex's apartment in Palms, where I as the mere visiting girlfriend was never allowed to park in the parking lot. Where I would sometimes have to spend twenty or thirty minutes circling the neighborhood before I could find parking, often a walk of several minutes away. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when Ronan's car get towed from a McDonald's parking lot, that that was a specific McDonald's on Venice Boulevards, the same one my ex's asshole roommate used to just roll his eyes and say that I should park at. skytoseungmin doesn't know that I once wished passionately that I had just parked in that McDonald's parking lot and risked getting towed, on the occasion that a man followed me several unlit blocks from my car. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when I talk about how helping someone park is the truest love language there is in Los Angeles, that that was what I meant. Has skytoseungmin ever had to circle to half an hour to find parking in Los Angeles? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone enough to do that, instead of saying, fuck it, they can come to me or we're breaking up? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone in Los Angeles enough, to do as my ex did, and come running as fast as humanly possibly when their girlfriend called them whispering and crying on the phone, someone's following me, please, I'm scared, I wish I just parked at the McDonald's?

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is a very personal fic.

It isn't half as personal as some of the fics that come after.

skytoseungmin marked their plagiarized version of the fic as part one of a series. Were they planning on stealing part two, where I, through an alternate universe characterization of Ronan Lynch, dig into my experience of grief and trauma surrounding my grandmother's dementia? Were they planning on stealing any of the explicit fics, where I play with kink and desire in ways I haven't even exposed to my actual sexual partners, but where I felt able to through the guise of fandom? What else was skytoseungmin planning on stealing, with charming little author's notes apologizing for how they missed the fandom-relevant date they were shooting for, because they were so busy with exams, tee-hee! Why the excuses, skytoseungmin? how long does it take you to ctrl+f, even if you are more thorough about it than springguk?

If I seem too accusatory and mean-spirited toward skytoseungmin, well, the LA verse is a very personal fic.

And it's also, it turns out, only one of eight different fics that they stole from me.

I didn't even notice at first, to be honest. I was too stunned. But my friend Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went to my defense and clicked through to the author's page, while I was still reeling at the horrible possibilities of part one of a series. It turned out, of eight fics on skytoseungmin's author's page…I had written every single one of them.

Some were short and pretty lighthearted, things I hadn't had to invest too much of myself into -- like I said, sometimes, I can write a fic in under a week.

Other things…

They stole the space western AU.

I don't think I can articulate to any human being how much that hurt me, to look at it, to see.

I wrote that as a thank you gift for someone who donated to Fandom Trumps Hate.

I spent nearly two years of my life on it -- two years during which, because of mental health issues and life situation changes, my words per year dropped precipitously. I still haven't recovered. I still think of what a failure I am for not writing more, currently, actively, and I remember how the space western AU was both a symptom of that and a defiance of it: yes, writing has become fucking hard, fucking NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, but I'm still doing it, goddamn it, you can't stop me, even if all I produce is the tiniest trickle of words a month. it can still add up, somehow, if we just keep TRYING.

To see the space western AU, casually nestled amongst a half dozen other fics that were all apparently casually dashed off in the same month…I know it was theft, I know it was a lie, but it still felt like a slap in the face, why can't you write this fast?

Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went on a campaign of commenting on all of skytoseungmin's (my) fics, and I am so thankful. The k-pop fans who heard Jessie have been reaching out, to her, to me, to each other on Twitter, and I am so thankful for them too. skytoseungmin has deleted all of their (my) fics on AO3, and their entire AO3 account, and their entire twitter, apparently. Maybe they were hoping to get enough clicks to parlay them into some kind of book deal, and they'd now rather give up what was a low investment effort on their part than be associated with accusation of plagiarism.

I suppose they can always start over with a new user name and someone else's fics if they really want to.

I suppose they can always start over with a new username and my fics, if they really want to.

And after all, AO3 has still not reached out to me about springguk, and "i do(n't remember)" is still sitting there. Maybe springguk is also going for a book deal. Who knows?

Why complain about any of it?

In a way* (and remember what "in a way" means), isn't it a compliment, if someone loves the words I wrote, even if they don't know it was me that wrote them? toast-the-unknowing and shinealightonme, if they're the same name (and they are), then why not springguk or skytoseungmin, too?

Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Does everyone just have their work stolen from them, all of the time? Is that simply the cost of doing business in an era and an ecosystem where we all can copy and paste twenty-four thousand words with greater ease than our ancestors could transcribe a single phrase? Are more prolific, more famous, more successful fan authors looking at my piteous cries and thinking, bitch, you've only been ripped off by k-pop fans ten times, come back when you have real problems?

And yet in a month, a year, a whole life phase of not being able to write as much as I would like to, because of my health, because of my work, to have someone else just casually pass off the words I have managed to eke out, as though they have no value, as though it were no more than photo copying a shitty flier to stick under a windshield wiper…

I can't imagine springguk or skytoseungmin give a shit how I feel about any of this. At best, they roll their eyes; at worst they laugh to know they hurt me -- and what's the difference between the two? I'll never know either way.

I know that some of the people they duped do care, and are also upset. That helps. And also, it doesn't help.

I just fucking hate all of this, and if all I have are words, and if my words are valuable enough for someone to steal, then here, here are enough of them to choke on. I know I did.

[lemoncrushh]

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Summary: It's your last day with Harry before he leaves.

Warnings: Light mentions of sex. A little angst because you're sad.

Word Count: 1523

A/N: A short little fluffy one shot written in 2017, inspired by the Commodores song Easy. This was originally in first person, but since there was no OC named, I have edited it to be a reader fic. There's no precise reason given why Harry is leaving (tour? movie? recording?), so you can make that up yourself.

The sun hadn't risen yet. The bedroom was still dark except for a tiny bit of moonlight that shone through the tree branches outside your window, casting an eerie shadow on the opposite wall. You watched as the shadow moved back and forth, silently telling you a story. A story that although you knew was a true one, you liked to pretend was fiction.

He was leaving tomorrow.

One more day. That was all you had left with him until...well you didn't know for sure. And you didn't think you wanted to.

You listened to his breathing behind you as you continued to stare at the wall, part of you wishing he would wake up so that you may selfishly have more time with him. A tear trickled from the corner of your eye just as he seemed to somehow hear your silent request and wrapped his arm around your middle to pull you closer. You sighed and wiped the tear, allowing your body to fit into his like a spoon. He groaned low and kissed you just behind your ear. Seconds later you could hear his breaths even out and you knew he was asleep once again. You wondered if he had even awoken at all, or if his gesture was purely automatic.

It didn't matter though. You were his, and he was yours, if only for a little while.

He'd told you he loved you that night. It had been in a moment of passion, and as one tends to speculate the truth behind such confessions, you certainly had. Not to mention he was who he was and could have anybody he wanted. Why would he choose to fall in love with you?

As you pondered this question and more, you felt him move again, rustling the sheets until finally settling his leg between yours. You couldn't help but smile as his lips found your shoulder, and he left a trail of kisses up to your neck.

"Good morning," you whispered, covering his hand that rested on your stomach with your own.

"Morning," he echoed, his voice an octave lower than usual. How you loved his morning voice.

He continued to dot your skin with kisses until you felt his breath tickle your ear.

"Baby?"

"Hmm?" you sounded.

"Even though I'm not fully awake yet, I want you to know..." he paused to swallow. "I meant what I said last night."

You blinked hard before shifting onto your back, releasing yourself from his hold. You looked at his face, and though it was still dark and a shadow cast over most of his features, you could tell his eyelids were heavy, his perfect lips swollen from sleep.

"What was that?" you asked softly, pretending not to know.

His mouth curved up into an easy grin then as he gently touched your face, pushing your hair back with his fingers.

"That I love you," he declared.

You mimicked his smile, raising your own hand to lightly brush your fingers across his chin.

"You do?"

"Yes. It's...it's not just something I say...in the heat of the moment."

You rolled onto your side then, your lips nearly touching.

"I only say it when I mean it," he continued. "When I feel it. I've fallen in love with you and-"

His words were cut short when you crashed your mouth into his, your fingers tangled in the hair on the back of his head.

"I love you, too," you breathed against his lips.

He moaned when you gave him your tongue, allowing you to explore his mouth before he sensually began sucking on it. Your toes curled and you threw your leg over his, needing to feel him against you as much as possible. As you felt his erection between you, you let out a whine.

"I need you again, Harry. Please. Before you leave me."

"Shh, don't say that," he whispered. "I'm not leaving you. I'm coming back."

"Promise?"

"Of course."

He pushed into you before you could protest, making you bite your lip. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders while he lifted your leg to get a better aim. He drove into you deeply, just like the night before. And just like the night before, you held on for dear life. Only this time you weren’t afraid to fall. You’d already fallen, and he'd fallen with you.

When you were lying in each other's arms afterwards, completely spent, you noticed the sunshine streaming through the window. This time the shadow on the wall was not eerie or casting a sad or gloomy story. It looked promising, hopeful.

"What shall we do today, love?" asked Harry, breaking you from your musing.

You beamed at him, loving the melodic sound of his voice.

"I don't know, what'd you have in mind?"

"Well..." he said, propping himself on his elbow. "We have the whole day."

"Yeah."

"I say we do nothing."

You chuckled. "Nothing?"

"Yeah. Just stay here in bed. Maybe put on some music. Have some food. Watch a movie. Make love some more. Maybe even take a nap."

"I'd hardly say that's nothing," you smirked.

"Well, I mean...if you wanna get up and go somewhere..."

Laughing harder, you pulled him to you, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Sounds perfect, actually," you murmured.

By noon, after breakfast in bed (which Harry had insisted on making himself while you rested) and more amazing sex, you found yourself in a moment of complete bliss. The sun shone brightly through your window, but you knew that was not the source of light that made your heart glow from within. It was the man beside you. The man who'd confessed his love to you.

He was leaving tomorrow.

You tried not to think about it. Harry hadn't brought it up again, and you'd decided not to mention it either. You wanted to revel in the joy as much and for as long as you could.

At one point it seemed Harry got a little restless and decided to pick up your guitar from across the room which was certainly fine with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and serenaded you for a while. After finishing a classic 70s tune, he looked at you, an expression you couldn't quite read.

"What?" you finally asked, curious to know what was going on in that gorgeous head of his.

He merely shrugged. "Just love you."

You smiled as he set the guitar down and crawled over to you and kissed you as though he hadn't already been doing that all day.

After lunch you opted for a movie, deciding on Casablanca. You kept your composure at the end, the rational side of you understanding Ingrid Bergman's leaving on the plane, though deep down you knew the romantic side of you thought she was an idiot.

That evening, just after a long nap and the best cup of tea you'd ever had in your life, you finally decided to get up. You stood side by side in the kitchen as he chopped tomatoes and you sautéed the mushrooms to prepare for your dinner. You had the radio on, and you smiled as you listened to Harry singing along.

Girl, I'm leaving you tomorrow...

A tear fell from your eye before you could catch it. Your shoulders shook and you felt your throat close, and you tried desperately not to let your emotions show. But Harry noticed. Dropping the knife, he came up behind you and put his arms around your waist.

"I love you," he reassured you in a whisper. "I love you so much."

You trembled against him, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

"It's gonna be okay," he added.

"Is it? Is it really? This already hurts so bad and you're not even gone yet."

"Hey. Look at me," he urged.

Abandoning the mushrooms, you turned around, your eyes glistening. He took your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

"I know this isn't gonna be easy," he said. "But it doesn't have to be that difficult either. We already know we love each other, yeah?"

You nodded.

"Then we're already doing great. I promised I'll come back, and I meant it. You trust me, don't you?"

"Always," you replied.

"We'll just have to deal with the long distance thing a little while. But we'll talk all the time. It'll be okay. Okay?"

You nodded once more, wondering how on earth you'd gotten so lucky to have this man fall in love with you. He kissed you tenderly on the lips before placing another soft kiss on your forehead.

"Don't burn the mushrooms," he teased and you poked him in the side.

That's why I'm easy, easy like Sunday morning...

"This song is misleading anyway," Harry commented.

"How's that?" you asked as you stirred.

"It sounds like a love song. But he's singing about wanting to be free." Harry looked at you. "That's not me."

You raised a brow. "You don't wanna be free?"

"Not when I can be in love," he answered. "It's way better."

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[billthedrake]

This story inspired by the classic writings of @macstevens.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

"You feeling nervous, Dad?" I asked as we walked back into our hotel room. We'd taken a walk around and had scoped out a lot of the other men we'd be seeing tomorrow.

Dad was surprisingly earnest as he thought over for a second. "I should be telling you I'm not," he replied. "I guess I get a little too caught up in the competitive thing."

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't," I assured him. "Trust me, you're gonna kill it tomorrow."

I could read all the doubts in my father's head. In 2018 he'd come here and had fallen short of placing. The pandemic came, and that meant time away from the gym. More than that there was Dad's self-imposed backaway from bodybuilding. "It's just not worth it," he'd said. "The time, the dieting, making yourself into some muscle bimbo," he said.

Until it was worth it. About a year and a half ago, Dad started getting that itch again. It took even more work this time, as he was in his mid-50s now, which meant would be competing in the Master's 50+ division

Now, Dad was probably in his best form of his life. Growing up, he'd always seemed just big - tall, beefy, ex-jock kind of body. Around the time of my parents' divorce, he'd gotten into better shape. My his mid 40s, that fitness kick got channeled into serious lifting. No two ways about it, my cop dad was a beast now.

And he was pulling off his XXL t-shirt, showing me all the ripped muscle he'd been bulking and fine tuning the last year. Dad tossed the shirt aside and turned to me. "Guess it's time for you to work your magic, Drew."

"Jesus, fuck," I gasped. It wasn't from surprise, since I was well familiar with my dad's body. But it never failed to take my breath away. He was hard, vascular, and covered with a pelt of silvery hair.

Dad chuckled. "I know you like the fur, buddy."

I gulped. Something had changed the last couple of years where the salt and pepper in Dad's chest hair was getting closer to full-on silver. "Yeah, I do," I admitted. "But you gotta show off your work, Dad."

"Yeah," he said, and started taking off his shorts. "You get everything ready."

I'd learned the hard way to put down newspaper on the bathroom floor. Dad's really fucking hair. I pulled out the supplies from my backpack - clippers, shave gels, a couple of additional razor cartridges, some aloe moisturizer. I used to wax Dad down, but we both enjoyed the slower, more intimate ritual of the shaving. And this way, his hair would grow back sooner, which was a plus for us.

"I'm afraid I'm giving you a lot of work," he chuckled as he stepped into the small space of the hotel bathroom. Dad was fully naked and his cock was already firming up into a healthy-sized hardon. We'd gotten beyond the awkwardness of this process and now got turned on by it.

I realized I was fully hard in my basketball shorts and I was glad I decided to freeball it, because otherwise my erection would feel uncomfortably constrained. I stripped off my shirt and affectionately patted his back, taking some time to feel the competition-ready muscle. "Jesus, Dad... being away at college... it's incredible to see you now."

That made my father smile. But he didn't say anything more. It was time for the shavedown.

I started the clippers and sheared off big swipes of that thick fur, watching the silvery curls fall down to the floor, some catching on his hair below. I then worked the clipped on the other side, from his lower abdomen to the base of his giant pecs. His cock jerked as I did and I could see the hunger in his eyes.

I pulled back the clippers and kissed him. Tongue and all, we make out, and I felt his prick nudge against the hard ridge in my shorts. I was actually a couple inches taller than Dad, a classic basketball jock build, and times like this, I loved the similarity and yet contrast between our bodies.

Dad was thinking something similar, too, and as I pulled back he growled. "I swear each time I see ya, you're bigger, boy."

I flexed for him some and laughed. In high school, I'd been on the leaner side, and even now my muscle looked less imposing because of my height. But I'd been working a lot with the team's strength coach and my effort had paid off. I placed the clippers back on him, focusing on the round swell of his chest muscle. "I got a bodybuilding Dad I gotta keep up with," I said.

It was Dad's turn to flex, making his knotted arms almost balloon in size. "I couldn't have gotten here without you, buddy," my father said, a twinkle in his handsome brown eyes that seemed lighter in color now that his hair was graying.

"Lift your arm," I instructed. This was the one part where the hair seemed less thick as Dad got older, but his pit was still well-furred. Dad's hair just had a way of growing in fast and thick.

It was going now, as I buzzed the clipper along the growth, shearing it down to a quarter inch.

Then I did the other arm pit.

My father's back isn't that hairy but I zapped away a couple of patches, along his lower back and along his upper traps. The forearms needed touching up to.

Dad reached down and gripped my boner, massaging it through the nylon of my shorts. It felt tantalizing, but we both kept the libido in check for now. Still, I pulled back with a huge wet spot at the tip of my cock. Dad used to tease me for my lack of patience in the bedroom, but now I knew how to be a good boy.

I squatted down and trimmed the legs, front and back. Then the hard cannonball ass that had been the first thing that required Dad to size up his police uniform.

This whole process took a while, about five to ten minutes for the initial trim. Now I turned off the clippers and set them aside. I wiped down the legs with a wet washcloth and put a good amount of shaving gel in my palm. This was the laborious part, but Dad would have a fresh, close shave for competition tomorrow.

It was quiet and sexual, Dad's prick dripping that slick clear fluid as I ran the razor over the quads, revealing hard muscle more fully. His dieting and diuretics meant every vein popped on the surface of his leg. I finished and wiped him down, admiring my handiwork. I took a strange pride in this, not only my skill in shaving Dad down but also an embrace of my kink. It was like each swipe of the razor blade was an act of power, of taking away Dad's masculinity, and yet giving him an even more amazing masculine form.

I started on the other leg. We broke the spell of silence some by talking about the likely competition he'd have tomorrow. Soon, I was wiping down the smooth muscle and rinsing off the blade in the sink.

I took my time with his calved and powerful hamstrings. Dad's hardon flagged. Mine didn't. I remembered when my father's ass has a little of that meaty give to it. The first time I'd touched his bare buns, or eaten him out, of fucked him. Now it was hard steeliness in my hands as I ran the razor over it, clearing a path in the foamy gel to reveal the smooth hard skin beneath. I don't know what it was, but there was something about a 55 year old's skin that was distinctive from a younger man's, even in Dad's competition ready muscle physique. Maybe because of his muscle physique.

"Want me to get in there?" I asked, my voice hoarse in excitement.

"Might as well," Dad said. And like that, he was leaning over and bracing his arms on the shower-tub rim, spreading his legs for me.

The first time Dad showed his hole to me, I had a premature ejaculation, I was so turned on. Those days were past me, but my heart always pounded double time to see this sight.

"I love you, Dad," I hissed. I had meant to save that kind of talk for later in the weekend. Or at least for a more appropriately intimate moment. But it just came out.

"Love ya too, Drew," he replied.

I could tell he was holding himself dead steady. This part involved more delicate razor work. I spread his crack further open with my fingers and flicked away the hairs around his pucker. My father's ring had seen more use lately. It wasn't a puffy, slutty hole or anything, but he'd gotten fucked more regularly, even with my absence at school.

"There," I announced, splashing some water on the pucker and wiping it down.

Dad leaned up and turned around. His prick was throbbing again. "You're the best, son," he said, reaching down to ruffle my hair.

I laughed. "Dad, you know how much this drive me crazy." I was already taking the shaving gel and smearing it around his lower abdomen. Dad trained natural and competed in a natural tournament. It put a cap to his size but also meant his belly was normal and relatively flat for a man his age.

He looked down with a look that had a good deal of pride mixed in with the lust. "I've been too scared to ask, but you having fun in college?"

I knew what he was getting at. I kept my attention on the shaving process but as I rinsed of the blade, I answered him. "Not really. Playing ball and keeping up my GPA keeps me pretty focused, you know?"

I knew he liked my answer but he nodded. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you found someone, you know." I think he half believed it. Trying to be the good parent.

I stood up. I was SO hard now. I knew I was tempting myself, but I pulled the waist band over my cock and slid my shorts down. Dad's eyes widened. "He'd probably have to be a cop," I said. "You and Rick spoiled me."

Dad chuckled. "I can't tell if you're kidding sometimes."

I raised my eyebrow. "I'm not kidding," I said. I pumped some more gel into my hand. The can was running low now, and I'd have to start on the second. I smeared it over his hard round pecs. I wetted down a new blade and brought it up. "I've been thinking a lot actually... I don't know, I'm seriously thinking about going into law enforcement."

"Drew," Dad objected, but he didn't complete his thought.

I shaved the chest in slow, broad swaths. It was beautiful to see Dad's new body emerge before my eyes. "Basketball's great, but I know I'm not NBA material," I explained. I gave a wry smile as I quickly glanced from his chest to his face. "And the pension's good, right?"

He laughed. "Pretty good," he replied. "But it's better in a city." Dad was police chief in a small town force.

"Then you get big city problems," I countered. I now ran the razor gingerly around dad's thick brownish nipple. "But you know what I'm thinking, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just promise me you're not gonna rush into that decision lightly. I want you to think practically before you commit to anything."

"I will, Dad," I said. Feeling chastised some, but he was right. I had a way of letting my cock do the thinking for me. I leaned in as I flicked the razor along his upper chest, next to the neck. Our cocks touched, wet and leaking.

"Fuck!" Dad gasped.

"I didn't nick you, did I?" I asked, concerned. I'd been more prone to that when we started this, but I'd gotten better and a lot more careful.

"No," he responded. "But please tell me we're gonna make up for lost time this weekend, son."

"We're gonna make up for lost time, Dad," I breathed. Then setting down the razor, I kissed him once more. This once feel deeper and more powerful.

"Damn, buddy," my father said as we broke off. "You've gotten even better at that."

I grinned. "Finish you up?" I asked. "We're almost done."

He nodded and lifted his right arm to let me get the trimmed hairs beneath, then the other. Up close, my father's hard muscled body now seemed bigger and heavier. We were both tall and our combined sized made the bathroom quarters seem particularly close.

"Maybe you can trim the crotch tomorrow. Figure out how much you wanna do." Dad said as I shaved his arms smooth. I could never decide what I thought about a shaved crotch. I used to hate it, but now there was a kinkiness in seeing his mature muscled cop body shaved completely smooth. Dad mostly like not worrying the posing trunks area and was glad for me to go as tight a shave as I wanted.

"Yep," I said.

Finally Dad started up the shower and we both got in. I loved sudsing up his shaved-down body and making out with him. We'd barely stepped out and dried off when we heard a knock.

"What fucking timing," I heard Dad say as he turned his upper body some.

I patted his smooth rump and picked up my shorts to slide them back on. I was achingly hard in them, obscenely so, but I had a good idea who was at the door.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Rick Caldwell grinned as I opened the door. He was fifteen years younger than Dad and six inches shorter. He was pretty much the textbook example of meathead cop, having been lifting and competing since he was 18. He stood now in full uniform, the bulletproof vest beneath his poly-blue shirt making his chest look that much more expansive, and his huge guns straining the sleeves.

"Dude, it's your room, too," I laughed.

Rick stepped in and set down his bag. He had a big grin on his closely shaved face. "Been too long, kid," he smiled as he stepped up for a kiss. I used to joke that Rick was Dad's boyfriend, but it seemed more and more like he was mine. I groped his hard body and felt him up beneath the uniform.

"Bout damn time, Caldwell," Dad joked as he stepped in to see us making out.

Rick pulled back. "Hiya Chief. Hit some traffic after my shift." He looked up my father up and down. "Your boy does good work."

"He does," Dad said as he stepped up, pulling his hand on my bare shoulder. "Takes his time."

Rick smiked. "I bet." Then, "You guys see all the beef parading around? Lots of law enforcement, too. I figured Junior here's gotta be pretty worked up," he winked at me. I didn't share a first name with my father but that didn't stop Rick from using that as a nickname.

"Understatement," I said. While Rick always encouraged my horndog side, I didn't always like to scope out other guys around Dad. But it was impossible to hide it on occasions like this .

Dad didn't seem to mind now. His fingers playfully dug into my delt muscle. "Drew here's thinking about signing up for the Academy after college." There was some pride in his voice, even tough I knew my father was stubborn enough to try to talk me out of the idea a few times over the upcoming year.

"Yeah?" Rick asked, turning to look at my own smirk. "You'll make a good officer, Junior," he said. Already he was crouching down in front of me and working my shorts.

I almost objected and I knew my body stiffened defensively. Dad and I had just had the most exquisite 40 minutes of foreplay and I worried now that all my patience would be squandered in a half minute's time.

"It's OK, buddy," Dad whispered hoarsely, pullling my upper body tighter against his nakedness. "Let him."

I gapsed as Rick sank his mouth over my precum-wet boner.

"Holy fuck," I gasped, looking down at him, beginning to blow me in full uniform. Big muscle head cop going down on me. Rick was skilled, but more than that he just loved doing it.

It was the two personalities of the men in my life. Dad always telling me to take it slow, to be patient. Training me almost. Rick indulging me and encouraging me to be as horny as any 20 year old would. Rick knew I had several loads in me in a given night. Why wait for the first?

I now rode the pleasure that Rick's bobbing mouth and throat were now giving me. Dad's eyes were cast down too, watching my thick son dick and his reporting officer's talented mouth quickly milking me.

"You're beautiful to watch, son," my father now whispered in my ear. Just us, something Rick probably couldn't hear. That excited me. "And Rick's right, buddy. You'd make a great officer."

I turned and like magic our mouths met. Tongues connecting a second before I started cumming. I shot hard and heavy into Rick Caldwell's craw. He not only swallowed greedily but kept working me to get the dribbles out of me.

"Goddamn," I muttered when Dad finally pulled back.

"Need a minute?" Dad asked. I knew his need was getting more urgent. And Rick had now turned his attention to my father, his chief. Licking along the thick tool that matched mine.

"Yeah," I replied. "Just a sec." I knew I should cool off completely, but I couldn't keep my eyes off these two men.

Rick sucked some more then went back to teasing mode. I don't know why he was doing this to Dad while he went right to sucking me off. But it was hot to watch. Rick finally turned to me. "You up for shaving me down in a bit, Junior?" He ran his hands openly along my father's smooth abdomen. "Get me competition ready?"

"God, yes," I said.

Dad chuckled. "Drives my boy crazy, doesn't it?" he said, looking at me.

I blushed. I don't know why I was embarrassed of the fact but I was.

Rick grinned, seeming to enjoy seeing my shy side. "Junior's gonna be SO worked up after tomorrow afternoon, he might even let us fuck him." Since going to college, I'd gotten into more of a top kick with these guys. Rick and I liked to have playful arguments about that, but he'd just shake his head and said it was a phase for me, that I just needed to prove something.

Rick never felt like he had anything to prove, at least in bed, and Dad was increasingly very open and flexible.

"How long has it been, Junior?" Rick teased, standing up and undoing his utility belt. "You let any of those college coaches sweet talk their way into your hot jock hole?"

Dad laughed. He was enjoying this. "Drew's been a monk up at school," he chimed in. "So he says."

Rick's blue eyes lit up as he pulled up one uniform shoe to a nearby chair to take off, then the other. "Is that right? Well, it's a whole weekend of bodybuilding, buddy," he said to me. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna get laid." It wasn't clear from his words whether he meant just him and Dad, or some other guy. Maybe for Dad's sake he kept it ambiguous, though I knew Rick liked to fool around and encouraged me to get my rocks off when I could.

"Come on, Rick," Dad complained. "Don't corrupt the poor boy."

Rick smirked. "Junior doesn't need me to do any corrupting. I've never met a dude so wired for big muscle."

Dad gave an exasperated smile. He knew his fellow cop was right. Fer christsake, I'd first come out to Dad when he discovered cum-crusted bodybuilding mags in my bedroom. He now turned to me and I could see a lot of emotion in his face, with the lust that had been building. "I know I keep a short leash on ya, Drew. But you're 20 now... you're your own man."

I didn't know if I was gonna take advantage of Dad's implicit offer. Or if I'd even have a chance to. Rick Caldwell had some wild talk sometimes, but the reality didn't always live up to it. I felt strangely touched by the idea of Dad letting me go off for some fun here.

I turned to Rick, "Why don't you get on the bed?" I asked, almost ordered. "No... leave the uniform on." His cock was already poking out of his zipper but it had been a while since I'd experienced a uniform scene.

The request made Rick smile. He gave a mock salute, "Aye aye, Junior." I watched as he got on, lying back, his big muscle body making the mattress sink. I had confidence in my father, but he'd have a hard time winning his division. Rick would have no problem winning his.

I climbed on, mounting his reclined, clothed body and meeting him for a kiss. Dad still didn't know what I had in mind but he stroked his cock and stepped closer to the bed. He told me he never thought he had a voyeur side until he first watched me and Rick fuck. I made out with the cop and pawed the muscled body before I pulled back and looked at my father.

"Just take it easy, Dad, OK?" I said. "It's been a year and a half."

"Yep," Dad answered in his deep voice.

"Fuck, Junior," I heard Rick say. I looked back into his handsome mug. He now whispered to me, almost mouthed the word. "He's missed this, you know?"

I felt bad, but any misgiving were pushed aside as I felt my father's strong hands run my hamstrings and over my bare buns. Then I felt a cool drizzle of lube and his warm finger press it into me.

"He's good at this right?" Rick said as he watched me get into my dad's prep work. The man was kneeling beside me and Rick. I'd alternate between kissing the cop and just enjoying the fingering.

Finally, I was mid-kiss when Dad stretched his muscled body on top of mine and guided his prick to my tight ring. He had the force to work me open, but he didn't rush it. Just steady prodding at my defenses, and once he entered me slow mini thrusts to open me up.

This was incredible. Getting fucked by Dad in the first time in a while. Getting past my stubborn top-only phase. And being there with Rick while I did.

Dad's thrusts were getting more vigorous, more athletic. I could feel the smoothness of his torso against my bare back as he fucked. The man had a hell of a lot of power in him, and Rick and I both gazed into each other's eyes in a feedback loop of horniness. Me getting off on him seeing the incestuous mating and him egging me on.

"Hold on a sec," I finally said. Dad's pumping stopped and he held his body still against mine while he softly kissed my neck.

"You OK, son?" he asked. I could tell from his voice he SO wanted to fuck to completion right then.

"Pull back," I instructed. As he did, I pulled back enough to give Rick enough room for what I was gonna ask. "Flip over officer," I urged.

Rick got the message, pulling down his uniform trousers all the way, his belt clinging and his prick jerking hard. But I didn't have long to see it. Already the big man was squirming to maneuver to a face down position.

Dad figured out what I was angling for and already was smearing lube on to my cock, adding some extra.

I was getting impatient now, and I reached down to guide my boner into Rick's muscle ass. He gave a soft grunt as I found and penetrated his cop hole. I should have gone easier, I knew, but Rick sensed my need and wanted this too.

Already my jock body was collapsing onto his meatier one, fucking deeper into his ass while I felt my dad cover tightly from behind, his own cop dick finding my entrance naturally and boring back in easily.

A sandwich threeway fuck isn't easy to get a rhythm on, and ours wasn't perfect. It was our first, in fact. But Dad did the driving, his hips and ass piledriving that meaty cock deep into me, jamming it against my throbbing prostate and pushing me into Rick, too.

I heard Dad's rumble of orgasm first and the idea he was shooting inside me had me nutting too. My body spasmed as I gave it up and simultaneously accepted Dad's load deep inside.

"Nice, Drew," my father whispered and slowly eased his body off mine."

I now worried it all been too hard on Rick, but as I rolled off, I saw him turn on his side, finally unbuttoning his uniform shirt and peeling it off his kevlar. His prick was angry red and it took me a second to realize the tip was wet.

"You fuckers," he laughed. "I don't know the last time I had a load fucked out of me like that."

"As long as I don't have to sleep in the wet spot," Dad deadpanned.

Rick grinned, peeling down his trousers, down those tree trunk legs and kicking them off. "I think Junior usually takes the middle spot," Rick said.

I got up off the bed. I'd gotten off twice now, in the span of twenty minutes, and I now felt more than a little drained. "I'll take it," I said. "Gladly." My dad was circling around the king bed to step up to me. I was used to the way his fur would get wet with sweat during sex but now the dewy perspiration rolled down smooth muscle.

"That was amazing kiddo," he said. "Thank you."

We kissed softly. We got so absorbed in our making out that I didn't feel Rick's presence until he placed a hand on both of our backs.

"I love watching you guys," he said.

I turned and leaned down to kiss Rick now, and Dad then had his turn.

"OK if we take a rain check on the shave down?" Rick asked. "There should be enough time tomorrow right?"

Dad felt up Rick's front. "You just got some stubble," he observed. "Shouldn't take as long for Drew to do his thing."

Dad rinsed off first, and then while Rick hopped in the shower, I applied the aloe to Dad's body. It was sexual and intimate, but the orgasms had taken the edge off and I could enjoy the act in all its sensuality. Dad and were both chubbed by shy of fully erect.

"You're killing it, Chief," Rick said as he towelled off. I still had to pinch myself that I had both these amazing muscle men to play around with. "You're gonna blow 'em away on stage tomorrow."

"We'll see," Dad said, that earlier nervousness and doubt creeping into his voice again.

The younger cop hung his towel on the hook. "You ever think of competing, Junior?" he asked.

"His body's perfect, Caldwell," Dad interjected. My father had an embarrassed look as he turned to me. "You should do what makes you happy, buddy, but I mean... you're fucking perfect." His voice cracked in a serious tone. "And any one of those muscle heads walking around this weekend would be lucky to make it with you."

Rick patted my back and winked in a conspiratorial way. "Chief's a big softie. But he's right. You are looking extra studly these days." He turned to Dad. "They looking for some extra tall recruits at the Academy, Chief?"

Dad grinned and nodded. "If that's what the boy wants to do... I'd say so." My father held my gaze and then winked, patting my on the shoulder before going back into the main part of our room.

Somehow, unbelievably, I had a fully hard cock once more.

"You want another crack at my ass, Junior?" Rick asked quietly.

It was tempting. But I needed a break, and I knew waiting would make it all the better. "Tomorrow, OK?"" I asked.

The big cop reached down and gave my dick a quick tug. "You got it. A celebration after I win, maybe?"

"Definitely," I said. I knew Rick would win, all right.

"All right, Junior, let's get some rest... big day tomorrow."

"Yes, Officer," I said and followed him back into the bedroom.

[kiwisa]

The Winner Takes It All ✷ cl16

✷ FIRST INTERLUDE OF THE TAMING OF THE HEARTBREAKER

━━━━━  NEXT !

in which... another name is added to Y/N's infamous list !

IN THE GILDED WORLD OF HOLLYWOOD, two events have become so common that no one bats an eye at the sight of them anymore: seeing Y/N L/N win an Oscar and leave with the current heartthrob.

Last night was no exception, ticking all the boxes in this new industry's ritual. While the West Side Story actress did indeed bring home the Best Actress Oscar (again), her real award of the night was the charming Timothée Chalamet, present to support the ten nominations for Dune. The two actors were seen very close during and after the Vanity Fair after-party, eventually both slipping away in the same SUV.

This is nothing new for the actress. Wherever she goes, it is impossible to feel indifferent about Y/N L/N. She knows it. So does everybody. Her ever-growing list of conquests is always the talk of the industry. No one even bother to count the names anymore: it would take hours.

Between Chalamet at the Oscars, François Civil and Pierre Niney at the French Césars or Harry Styles at the Grammys, Y/N L/N seems determined to single-handedly revive old Hollywood, between conquests, scandals, and chaos!

✷ SEE ALSO ON LOVE CLUB... !

Is Y/N L/N the inspiration behind Harry Style's Woman?

Between existing for her art or for her body, Y/N L/N seems to have made her choice

L/N's French idyll with François Civil cut short

The one now known as "The Heartbreaker"⏤a politically correct version of "whore," still favoured by many internet users⏤has been causing daily havoc everywhere, be it in newspapers or on social media, because of her behaviour, deemed "unladylike."

She responded to these criticisms on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show a few months ago:

"If I were a man, nobody would say anything. I'm a whore and, yet, when a man does the same thing, he's a player. This has double-standard written all over it. People just hate to see women do what they want with their bodies."

Regardless of the hate she receives on a daily basis, L/N doesn't seem ready to settle down soon. But will she ever be?

We are all left wondering who will succeed in⏤to quote Shakespeare⏤taming The Heartbreaker.

FILED UNDER #Y/NL/N #TIMOTHÉECHALAMET #ACTORS #OSCARS #DATING

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Anonymous 2 hours ago

She didn't deserve Best Actress. I mean... Jessica Chastain was right there. Once again, it shows us just how rigged the Oscars are! Go fuck your boy-toy and let the real actors act.

Anonymous 1 hour ago

She's an incredibly good actress. What a shame she is so crass.

Anonymous 1 hour ago

You go, girl! She's living her best life, as she should. If she doesn't want to settle down now, then she doesn't have to. Men should just shut up.

Anonymous 3 hours ago

No one will ever want something serious with her. Women like L/N are only meant to be fucked.

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[within-your-eyes-if]

A Few Updates

Hello everyone!

I have some exciting news and a few thoughts I want to share. Another long update, I'm sorry!

Codex Update: As you know, I've been working on updating the Codex. I've put a lot of thought into each entry, balancing new ideas with existing lore. While a lot of elements were already established, delving deeper into some topics has inspired some new ideas, and I want to ensure everything fits seamlessly. With this in mind, I'm considering releasing what I have so far while I continue to ponder over some of these newer concepts and refine older ones. In the next few days, I'll be going through more feedback to address some issues found before I plan to release the update.

New Story: I'm excited to share I've released a prologue and first chapter for From Here to Again! Writing something different is meant to help me grow as a writer and expand upon things I might not have considered before, especially when writing Twine.

I will not be making a Tumblr for this story right now, sorry!

I know I've shared other stories that I planned, and here are some updates on those:

Nautical Lost would definitely benefit from a later release as Within Your Eyes grows, as this story will expand upon the world lore and some events that will happen.

The Innkeeper (a working title), I decided to hold off on because I'm terrible at management games, it seems. It was meant to be a fun little story with shenanigans. However, I do want to revisit the idea later.

Short Stories: I've expressed I want to make some short stories, but I feel like there's a point in WYE I want to pass first before getting into them. But I do have one I'm working on that I want to release alongside Part Two that delves into the past.

Worries About Burnout: I know some of you are/might be worried about burnout, but I feel like I have a good system for myself. Writing is a journey I haven't explored much before. I did write, but it's something I didn't think I was good at because, honestly, I was told I wasn't. I know I'm not the greatest, but I want to grow and learn as a writer. I've been taking breaks to focus on other things I enjoy, even if it's still writing out ideas for other stories.

I appreciate all of the concern in this regard, not just for my well-being, but also for the love of my story. To see it abandoned would be heartbreaking not just for my readers, but for me as well. 'Within Your Eyes' has been an idea long in the making, shifting and growing. It's something I've always wanted to share, and I'm so happy I have!

Time for Questions: I'm ready to start answering some of your questions regarding Part One. Enough time has passed, I believe, to start delving into these. To respect those who haven't caught up yet, I'll include any spoilers under a 'Read More' tag. However, be mindful that some questions themselves might contain spoilers.

Regarding certain asks/scenarios, I think that discovering the answers through the story rather than in a post might be more rewarding. While I may still respond to these, I'll be thoughtful about placing them under a 'Read More' tag as well.

Regardless, I've been thinking more about how I should approach questions, not only in a way that's satisfying to you, but also benefits the story.

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the long update. I've been very reflective after releasing a second story, and I hope no one sees this as me diverting from WYE. I'm grateful for every one of you and for all of your words of encouragement and love. I hope you enjoy From Here to Again (if you decide to check it out) and continue to look forward to our Warden's journey.

Thank you!

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I've already shared a few snippets from my trans!Alex Fandom Trumps Hate fic, which I am SO fucking excited about—but I've also taken my usual batshit chaotic approach of 'just write stuff as inspiration hits and fit it all together later', and I realised a not-insignificant period of time into doing this that I'd written some stuff that was inherently contradictory. But I also LOVED it all and didn't wanna give anything up... so long story short, now I have TWO trans!Alex WIPs 🤣 One is the longer, more Big Feelings fic for FTH... and the other is this, which will be a bit shorter. And pornier. I mean, they'll both have porn and feelings, because I am who I am, but... you know. Let's fucking go. (I might try to smash this one out for @rwrbgenderfunkyfest if I can!)

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart.” Alex buries one hand in his own curls as he comes down, the other resting on the top of Henry’s head, who has only moved far enough away to press soft kisses to Alex’s thigh. Henry’s face is a fucking mess, and he looks… well, he would say Henry looks unduly proud of himself, except for the fact that his knees currently have the approximate consistency and weight-bearing capabilities of a particularly booze-heavy jello shot, so really, Henry’s earned the smugness that’s radiating out of every pore. “That was—” “Yes, it was rather.” Henry smirks, his eyes locked on Alex’s as he flattens it, dragging it up towards his hip before planting a hard, toothy kiss there. His hand slides up Alex’s other leg until his thumb is resting at the edge of the scar above Alex’s pubic bone, and Alex reads the question in his eyes half a second before he voices it. “May I?” Alex blinks. In his experience, people tend to ignore his scars completely during sex, even if they have practical questions about the equipment. But Henry’s already sucked him off until he saw God—if he gets any better at it, Alex might die. “If you want.” Henry’s smile softens into something sweet and hopeful and breathtaking, and then he leans forward to press an almost unbearably gentle kiss to the raised skin there. “Christ, you’re beautiful.” It’s so quiet, Alex isn’t sure he was meant to hear it at all.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

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@leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @matherines @myheartalivewrites

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@whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[honeyhotteoks]

hi everyone ♡ a little about where i've been and why i'm not posting....

so... it's no secret that i fell off the face of the earth when it comes to writing, and for that i just want to apologize. i know a lot of you have been waiting for the next chapter of tnt, further aurora updates, or just looking forward to some smutty kinktober one-shots...... but to be completely honest i haven't written in a little while.

i've been trying to but i keep coming up short, and i've been avoiding this blog ever since because i just feel bad for not being able to give you guys the stories you're waiting for. for that reason, i essentially took a creative break and decided not to respond to any messages about writing. i know that kind of sucks, but i know myself and i didn't want to promise "soon" when i knew that wasn't true.

i'm starting slowly to work on things again, and i really hope i'll be able to share some of that work with you soon, but genuinely i just needed space from working on fic and to be honest..... from the fandom. i love being an atiny, but there was a swell of negativity on twitter for a while and i've been feeling a little uninspired with the past year of content and endless touring and it all combined into me putting things off.

i'm also................................ much more of a multi now.... which i really never thought would happen but here we are. i have no idea if i'll actually start writing for any of those groups, but if i do, i hope some of you also enjoy those groups and you stick with me. a little blurb about my new biases and the groups i'm now following, etc. is at the bottom of this post.

as far as what's going on with my ateez work? here's a quick recap:

this night together: still in progress, i have ~4 chapters finished, but chap ten and some of the time skips have me a little stuck. once i iron that out and finish out the last 2-3 chapters after the arc that's written, i'll get back to posting. at this point i'd like to have it done so i can release it confidently and as a complete story. into the aurora: i have about half of book one edited, which will include some new scenes / cleaned up scenes, but nothing crazy. i'd like to start updating old chapters once everything is finalized. book two is.... slow going. i'm hoping a breath of fresh air will help, but it's still my goal to come back to these characters. one-shots: i have about 4-5 ateez one-shots that are half written. my plan is to finish these and release them as inspiration strikes to wrap them up.

thank you all for your patience, and all of your kind messages. so many people have checked in on me both anon and not, and even if i haven't responded it's meant so much as i work on coming back to writing. i may not be able to respond to all the messages since so many of them are in my inbox, but slowly i may chip away at them

i'll see you all very soon~

(so chai multi era.... in a whirlwind of discovering other kpop groups..... i've ended up a carat, a stay, a moa, and a hidden kard. again, no idea if i'll ever write for any of these groups, but.... my biases are below so who knows)

seventeen - s.coups (regularly wrecked by hip hop line + dino) stray kids - lee know + hyunjin txt - soobin (are we surprised tho) kard - bm + jiwoo (but also like basically ot4 let's be real here)

♡

[strawbsstarz]

Rewrite the Stars: Draco Malfoy x reader

inspired by the song from greatest showman lol, had this idea stuck in my head for months, but i feel like i didn't give it any justice though. so sorry that it's poorly written but enjoy ^^

Warning: Angst

Pt 2 HERE

~~

Never in a million years had you expected to be hooking up with the one and only Draco Malfoy, I mean, why would you? There was nothing good to his name other than his money, his face, and his hair and smile, and his laugh, and how easy it was to tease him and the way- okay maybe there was a couple things that you enjoyed about him.

Okay fine, he's attractive, but that's it! Looking at his pretty face from afar was enough, hearing his snarky comments about something stupid will only ruin the experience for you, at least, that's what you thought.

You were content with that, with only watching from afar, because, let's be honest, if people found out about you, a Gryffindor, someone who was acquainted with Harry Potter himself, aka Draco Malfoy's rival, was even slightly attracted to the Prince of Slytherin, imagine the rumors.

Imagine the questions from your friends. Oh merlin, you could practically hear the interrogation: "Y/N, out of all the guys in school why Malfoy? He's a total ass to everyone!" or something along those lines, and they're right, why Malfoy?

Truth is you don't even know, you just thought he was cute. It's normal for teenagers to find the opposite sex attractive, so no biggie, right?

Lucky for you, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it, he was also attracted to you. At the end of year 5, you two had a moment with one another as you cleaned a classroom during detention. You had accidentally slipped on the wet floor and he had caught you.

Long story short, you had ended up kissing on accident and it turned into a clumsy confession. After that, there was a lot of lingering tension between the two of you, people assumed it was just the rivalry between your houses. Oh boy was it far from that. There were many instances where you two would sneak off during passing periods to snog in a broom cupboard somewhere, and it was normal, teenagers being teenagers.

Year 6 felt more intimate. Other than sneaking off to snog somewhere, you two would find yourselves sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet at the Astronomy Tower to just- talk.

It was comforting. Unknowingly, you had found comfort in his presence, and sooner or later, you would realize your growing feelings for the boy. To you, all the stolen kisses and glances meant something more compared to how it started. All the talks about life, family and everything. After realizing your growing crush, you told yourself consistently that this was enough, whatever you had now, was enough.

You two had never talked about what you were. There was some sort of unspoken rule between you two. It was a secret, this was a secret. It was a fun and thrilling one at that, but sometimes, you found yourself wanting more.

You knew about his family and their pureblood views, you knew about the rumors regarding with their relations with you-know-who, you knew how your friends would react, the hesitancy of your own family about the idea of it and sure, you were scared, hell you were petrified but the idea of it was- nice? For a lack of a better word.

Neither of you were dumb. You both knew what you felt for the other. You had long noticed how he would hold you a little tighter, or kiss you a little longer than when he did in the beginning, it no longer felt purely physical and learning things with each other. You had noticed that whenever you would show him something you liked from the muggle world, despite his complaints, he would listen to every word you say intently, and from the corner of your eye, you would notice him smiling and staring at you.

"What are we?" You asked one night as you both stood at the Astronomy Tower, stargazing.

"We're wizards" He snorted as he leaned against the railing, his head looking up at the sky. You nudged his arm and scoffed,

"No you twat, I mean," you bit your lip, "what are we?"

His mouth forms an o-shaped, and silence falls between you two. It wasn't the comfortable silence you were used to, it wasn't the your-presence-is-enough type of silence. It was the type of silence where it was awkward and it made your heart beat fast with uncertainty. Was it a bad idea to ask? Should you tell him you were messing with him? "Hey! I was just joking! Ha! I got you!"

"We're... us...." He finally says. You debated on whether or not you were content with that answer, but you decide to push the topic further.

"And what exactly is us?" You lowered your head as you began playing with your fingers.

Another pause, this time even longer, and the silence was unbearable.

"Y/N..." His tone was soft, and it was gentle. It was as if he was treading lightly on the subject you two had never talked about, "You know what we are..."

Your focus continued on the way your fingers moved, "And what if..I want something more than what we are?"

He sighs, and looks down at his hands, opening and closing. It was a topic he dreaded to talk about. He knew it would be brought up at some point, but he wasn't ready to face the reality yet. He wasn't ready to step out of the comforts of the Astronomy Tower, a place that held such dear memories for the both of you. He had hoped and prayed that whatever you two had going on would stay as it is, a secret. His left forearm burned from the thoughts running in his head. He envisioned nothing but heartbreak from your relationship.

He knew what lied ahead for the two of you, and that's why he desperately tried to keep you as private as possible. He was reckless in the beginning, because truth be told, he originally didn't plan for it to go this far. He never planned to fall in love with you. He never planned this feeling in his chest to grow.

"I know about your parents, and I know about the things you're expected of. I know about the control you don't have in your life, but is it possible for me to expect something? From..from you?" You stuttered, unsure of how to approach him.

Everything stills, and you search for emotion in his eyes. Oh how he wished to tell you everything, everything that had happened in the summer, everything that happened to him, but he knows he shouldn't. He can't bring himself to tell you, because it will only put you in danger. He can't tell you because he wants to keep you safe, he needs you to be safe. You're his safe haven. All the moments you spent together is his way of escaping the dreadful reality he's now forced to live in. Every moment with you is like a dream to him, and if that dream and reality were to one day meet, how will he be able to handle the things that could happen? that would happen?

"It's not written in the stars for us..." He exhales and his eyes can't seem to look at you. You avoid each other, continuing to look far off in the distance of the sky. "It's hard...to imagine us...as more. I never really saw us becoming more than....more than what we are now.." He lied.

Of course he doesn't see himself having a future with someone muggle born, you thought to yourself. You knew that one of the many things that would keep you both apart was your blood status. You knew from the beginning, but that didn't make the pain any less than it was. Your mind began to overthink about all the reason why this wouldn't work, all the insecurities you've had began clouding your thoughts. So many reasons had popped in your head. If he could only read your mind, he would flick your forehead and tell you that all those reasons were absurd. If he wasn't caught up in the middle of his parent's decisions, he would say that he doesn't care about the blood status, he doesn't care about the lives both of you used to lead, he doesn't care about all of it, because he'll always choose you. He'll choose to fight it all for you, with you.

"The cards we've been dealt with in this lifetime, Y/N, it's really not fair. Faith will only continue to pull us away from each other." He turns his head to you, and you catch the look in his eyes, a hint of sadness displayed on his face.

"What if I decide against that? Against faith? Against destiny?" You stood up straight, your vision getting glassy. "Shouldn't we at least try?"

"It's not that easy," He starts, "there's nothing I would love more than- than to be with you." He takes your face in his hands and pulls you in closer, your foreheads touching. You melt in his embrace, your own hand cupping his. "But we can't, Y/N. There's just some doors we can't walk through."

You're eyes began to water, and you regret ever asking. How could you be so stupid? How could you be so selfish and ruin something that should already be enough? Your greed had gotten the best of you.

"What if we rewrite the stars? Draco, it's up to me and you. No one can decide what we do or how we should feel." You cry wetting his hands. He smiles softly and wipes your tears away.

"Love, I know you're wondering why because within these walls, we can be who we want to be..but I know that when we go outside- outside this place, we're gonna be heartbroken and devastated-"

"Because it's hopeless?" You cut him off. You were upset, and you knew he felt the same way too, but it angered you. It angered you how he was willing to give up without even trying, without even fighting for it.

He purses his lips, "You know I want you, but I can't...We're bound to break and my hands are tied, there's just a lot of things that are out of my control.."

"So what? Malfoy, don't tell me you're giving up?" You pushed him away, taking a step back as tears rolled down on your face, "Was it all in my head? Everything we've done? Did it not mean to you as much as it did to me? Is- Is there something I'm missing here?"

His heart quickens at the questions, he's fighting a war with himself, whether or not to tell you why. He wanted to clear up this misunderstanding. if only you knew.

"Y/N..." He tries to reach out for you but you took a step back once again.

"I don't understand why..why-" You choked on your tears, wiping it with your robe, as you began to walk past him intending to leave the tower. The serenity of the night and the cold breeze had began to suffocate you, "You're more of a coward than I thought you were."

He couldn't bring himself to run after you. He couldn't even look at you as you left. His body was frozen. His feet was planted right where you left him, and his heart ached with grief. He knew this was for the best, this was the right choice, he tries to convince himself. He knew that eventually his actions would catch up to him, that it might lead to your endangerment. It's good that it ends now rather than later, but he hated the way you left, hates the way it has to end this way. Even though he wanted to call out to you, to tell you the truth, that he was madly in love with you. Even though he wanted to tell you that; you were worth fighting for, he knows he shouldn't. With the impending war, he holds himself back and it's all for you, even if you don't know it. All of this was so that you wouldn't have to see him as one of them. All of this is to keep you safe, and alive. As long as you're alive, he thinks. All of this is all for you.

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 47: A Winding Path

Summary: Loki contemplates your past, and his.

Word Count: 1,339

Author's Notes: We've got a lot of mushy feelings to get through before this is over. But I guess if that was a problem for you, you probably wouldn't be reading this fic in the first place.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki woke before you, as he often did. He lay on his back, in your bed. You were tucked against him with your head on his shoulder. He took a moment to do nothing more than relish the feeling of your skin on his. Your breath was soft and the sun creeping out from the edges of the curtains was casting a gentle glow to the room. These quiet moments in the morning would likely be his favorites, if the nights before didn't offer such steep competition.

Quiet moments were in short supply. With Midsummer only weeks away the days in New Asgard were marked by an increase in frenzy. Thor would surely be calling on him soon to assist with one project or another. If it wasn't something to do with the construction of the hall or the impending ball therein, then it would be any number of tasks that were still necessary when rebuilding a society. So Loki stole every quiet moment that he could.

He looked down at you resting against him and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His eyes traveled to your arm draped across his chest and his smile faded. Most of the time, when he saw your scar he would be reminded of the stories you told. Ridiculous, absurd tales that ensured a laugh. Morsels of joy. Sometimes, however, he would be caught off guard by the memory of the truth. Fury would bubble inside him and he couldn't help but think of the pain you suffered. He imagined the fear you felt in that moment and he wished he could reach out to you as you were then and pull you into his embrace. He was aware of the shame you carried regarding the situation, even now, and that angered him also. Inevitably he felt the desire rise in his chest to find the one who did this to you, this man who thought he had the right to hurt you in any way he chose, and show him a mirror of his cruelty. You rarely spoke of him, and Loki suspected it was in part to avoid giving away his identity. This was one of the many ways you were wise, because Loki was sure he knew where to find that villain he would set off at once. Though, Loki had to admit that a single word from you would stop him seeking revenge. It wasn't his revenge, after all. The temptation would be strong, however, to leave before your word was given.

Loki stared at the mark on your arm and took another moment to marvel at you. In his past he had always turned hurt into more hurt. Anger, distrust, distance, he would don these like armor in an attempt to avoid further vulnerability. To see you having gone through such treatment and come out the other side so soft and open, it amazed him. It inspired him, perhaps, considering where he was now. Lying in bed with his mortal lover. He came here as nothing but sharp edges, and you had been soft enough for the both of you, until he could find something gentler inside himself.

He reached and traced a finger down your scar. He wondered if he could heal it. It was likely beyond him, but he had never tried such a thing before.

You shifted, and he heard the now-familiar sigh that meant you were stirring. You mumbled something and shuffled closer against him. "I'm sorry, darling." He whispered and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I didn't mean to wake you." "Mm. It's fine. We should get up." Despite this proclamation, you did not make any movement toward your stated goal. This suited Loki just fine.

He trailed his fingertips over your arm, once again following the line of your scar. He lightly traced the mark upward from your wrist. "Does it bother you?" "Tickles a little." You mumbled. He breathed a laugh. "No, the scar." His fingers wrapped around your forearm now, his thumb ran across the offending blemish. "Would you rather not have it?" You looked up at him curiously, finally properly awake. "What?" "I may be able to heal it." He lifted your arm to examine it. "I can't say for certain, but it might be possible." "Really?" You looked down at the old injury with disbelief. "Possibly." He let your arm rest against his chest again. "Would you like me to try?" You thought for a moment, but only a very brief moment, before answering. "Nah." His brows raised in surprise. "You wouldn't want to be rid of it?" "Hani would be so disappointed." He scoffed. "I'm sure she would understand." "I see what this is. You just want all of her attention on you." He laughed, then gently tilted your face toward him. "Tell me truly. You would keep it? This physical reminder of a terrible pain?" You smiled sweetly at him. "Of course." He laid back and stared at the ceiling. "I may never understand you." You laughed and propped your head on your elbow, to better look at him. "It was a bad night. Many bad nights. Many years ago. I will never be happy that it happened, but it's a part of me now." You raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Is there really a part of me you would change?" "Your impertinence." He laughed and scrambled to catch your hand as you pinched his side. "Alright, alright, I yield." You leaned closer over him, your chest pressed to his as you met his face. "It's not a good memory, but it was a step on the path that led me here. I have to be just a little bit grateful for it. If I hadn't been there then, then I wouldn't be here now." You placed a kiss on his cheek for emphasis. "And I really like where I am now." "Hm. Finally, a sentiment I can share." He murmured as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him.

**

Eventually, after several instances of the both of you repeatedly agreeing that it was time to start the day, you reluctantly extricated yourselves from the bed. Loki started breakfast and watched you from the kitchen window while you tended to the livestock. The meal had barely been concluded when Loki's expectations were proven right; a message came to your phone from Thor, requesting his assistance. He bid you farewell and for just a moment he was struck by how routine all of this felt now. It came so naturally, this domestic ritual. It felt secure. Steady. It brought him a sense of bliss that compelled him to sweep you into another kiss before leaving.

As he walked down the road from your home he looked ahead to New Asgard, which was already bustling with morning activity. This, too, brought him joy. Then his mind wandered back to your scar, and your insistence that it stay. He was sure that you hadn't even considered removing it. His thoughts drifted to his own winding path that had brought him here. His father, and the secrets he kept. His captivity with Thanos. New York. The TVA. Each had been a turn he would rather not have taken. And yet he couldn't deny that they had led him to this point, eventually. Each step had brought him to closer you.

Still, he couldn't find it in himself to feel grateful for these events. They may have had a part in making him who he was, but even now it all still felt so raw. Like open wounds. And perhaps that was the trouble. A scar was different. It was a sign that healing had occurred, even if the flesh was not returned to its original state after.

He could hope for healing. Right now couldn't appreciate the wounds that brought him to where he is, even if it is somewhere he wants to be. Perhaps with enough time, one day he could.

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[williammorgan45]

You know what time it? It's Realizin' time!

Here it is! The result of the brain rot of @realizinau art and Alan Wake (I took inspiration by drawing this.The games are so cool) so here we are. It's a bit wonky but I think it's decent. Please ignore the little blue spooch on the suit. I made a boo─boo while painting :/

I'm still thinking about on how to name this guy but I have a little of his backstory on how his role would be in the Realizin' AU.

First he's a wolf if you're wondering.

Alright, now into his story: ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before being put into the Bigger Bodies Initiative, he was just a child like any other with a mother and father who loved him and loved them back. But after a tragedy to both parents in a car accident, leaving him as the sole survivor of the crash, he was alone in this narrow dark place.

He was put in normal orphange just with many others parentless but he was different to other kids. Just as the kids where loud, energetic full innocence and some didn't apply to the rules he was the opposite. He was quiet, didn't move alot from his bed, his innocence gone for the result of the crash and allways following orders from the caretakers of the orphange.

Since he didn't talk to the other kids besides to the caretakers to see of he was okay and only respond with a nod, a shake or a short phrase, they began calling him names like 'the silent kid', 'downer', 'the staff's pet' and other names behind his back.

He already got used to this new 'life style' on the orphanage. Wake up, breakfast, gaze outside the window of his room, nap, lunch, more gazing outside again, dinner, sleep, repeat.

He told himself that's going to be his life until he was adopted to a new familly.

...That was the plan before him and others kids where called on the hall as their caretaker was explaning that they were getting 'relocated' to a better orphanage. He didn't understand why tho but if they where getthing relocaded to a better orphanage was probably for the best.

...Right?

Him along with other orphans entered the bus that was meant to transport them to the new orphange. The name on the side of the bus caught his attention before entering. Playtime Co. He knew that name. Tha was the name of the company who sell those toys that appered on TV. His guess was that maybe they are expanding or something.

After that, everything where blur and pieces. How he arrived to Home Sweet Home, meeting the staff, Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy, Mommy and Daddy Longlegs along with other toys,doing some sort of test of memory and running, being told that he got adopted, on how he was guided to a room with a bed as they put him on the bed before putting anesthesia and how he became...like he is now.

He felt...weird to say the least but he quickly got used being taller and getting used to his new body. A few bumps here and there but he got used to it. Faster than the others. The Doctor thinks to himself.

And before he know it, he got a brand new suit (he allways wanted to wear one when he was older.It made him feel...important.) and got a new... 'job' as the new guard of Playcare and Home Sweet Home. At day he would help some of the staff carry important papers so he was given a mesanger bag to carry those paper more easier and organize smaller toys for the kids and making sure the wasn't something a miss or any complications among the staff and the children. And by the night, he would roam Playcare and Home Sweet home hall's with his trusty flashlight to make sure there wasn't any stray kid or someone suspicious was around.

He took extra careful in the night because he read in a book once that the dark can by tricky and dangerous. But what caught his attention more was one sentance in particular.

"Trust no one in the dark."

After that, he took his night patrols very seriously, with careful steps and eyes all open for anything. Something tells him there something off but rapidly dissmiss the thought.

Sometimes when doing the day shift, some of the kids would run to him and would either drag him to play with them, show him drawings of him or hug him out of nowhere. He would stay still with no idea what to do or react. Thankfully, some of the staff or caretakers would save him from that embarassment and he would fix tie and continue with his duties for today.

Just like before he is still silent with a neutral looks almost all the time. Responding with a nod, shake or short answer to long questions. He would been doing this for 5 years. Making him 15 years old if his math is correct.

None of the staff, the caretakers or even the children have see him smile. Not even once. Always on focus on the task. Some even says he's more of a robot than someone alive.

It would take a miracle to even make him smile.

...Maybe that miracle could be in the form of 8 new Critters know as The Smilling Critters.

Only time will tell...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that's that! (Jesus, that was long.) Anyway, if you read till the end, thanks! 'preaciated! Hoped i could have entertaied you a little. Again, thank to @realizinau for inpriring me to make this little thing and maybe i will do more. But for the mean time...What's the time? Playtime...

[minminho0]

✤------------------------------------------✤

◈Empty promises◈

✤------------------------------------------✤

<Diluc x Reader>

-Angst ~ No comfort

Summary: No matter how sweet his words and promises are, you knew deep down that its just bluff.

Gender: Female

Warnings: Cheating, Neglect, bad writing skills, toxic relationship, leaving without telling a word[thats all i think]

A/n: This story is inspired by @myyaworld

I hope you enjoy~!

(Feel free to correct my grammar)

---

It was honestly pretty tiring, sleeping, waking up, and eating without him by your side.

He barely comes home!

You grew tired but you hold on because you thought he will change and you loved him to much.

'Dear Diluc, '

You send him letter every single day but you never get nothing in return to the point that you think that the letters never reached him.

.

.

.

You finally grew suspicious when your friend(a worker of his) told you thats hes not coming home to you cuz hes too busy fucking other womens to even think abt you.

You remembered that back then he also cheated on you but asked for forgiveness and said those empty promises he made.

"I promise i will never do it again! Please forgive me!"

"I can never think my life without you"

"I love you, only you! Those other women meant nothing to me"

And blah blah blah

He made so many empty promises that you cant even remember the last time he kept one.

.

.

.

One day, when he went out to go to work. You saw he forgot his lunch and decided that you can bring it to him.

You went to his bar but before you can even go inside, you saw through the window him with another woman sitting on his lap.

You were stunned but not suprised

You kind of expected this but not so soon..

Its only been 1 month since his last cheat..

Ig it already turned into a routine, a cycle...

Diluc cheating

You finding out

Diluc asking for forgiveness

You forgive him

He gives you affection for 1 week

Then suddenly act like strangers

He cheats

Then the cycle repeats..again..again...and again..

It all started when you two got married

He wasn't like this before..

Back then..

He always makes time for you even if its just short..

He pampers you with affection everyday

You always go to bed snuggled on him

You eat with him

You hang out with him

And etc.

But now?

Why?

Did he got bored of you after 6 years of being together?

Well..you cant blame him, after 6 years with being with someone and always drowning yourself with work, of course he got tired and wanted to try someone new..

.

.

.

You got tired of this cycle

You patiently waited for him for years but in the end..you got nothing but lies.

You were so..delusional..and always at your own little world thinking things thats probably not possible..

Thats why, you get your hopes up for nothing.

.

.

'Dear Diluc,'

You wrote Diluc one final letter..

You were done, you were hurt

You were leaving him for good

.

You wrote at the letter on

how unhappy you both are

How it good if you both seperate ways

How you wont be coming back

How your hurt

Everything you felt

You put it all there..

But you didn't tell him that your moving to liyue..

Your mother needs assistant and asked you to help her when your free, you accepted and will be leaving in a few minutes...

You left the letter at the counter, where it is visible when he comes home.

.

.

You started packing your things on a suitcase.

You left your ring

You left everything that he gave you so you wont feel in dept.

You put on your coat and headed out the door.

You gave one last look at the house before leaving for good.

You were finally free.

.

.

.

---

*Masterlist*

Heyy i hope you enjoyed it!

Sorry its a bit short!🫠

-January 23 2023

[salarta]

Do you have any fun facts about Lorna?

I mean, fun fact here is dependent on what the focus is meant to be. On the meta side of things:

Second woman to join the X-Men

Started out more feminist than Jean, before later writers and editors screwed her over

One of the first, if not THE first, case of mutants combining powers to do something great (flinging Krakoa into space, after powered up by Storm, Cyclops, and Havok)

Has a history of being the first to do or introduce something interesting, then people at Marvel giving those things to other characters because they seem to think she doesn't deserve them (latest case being X-Men 97 letting Rogue take over all the Genosha genocide storyline while Lorna was completely left out of it)

Has existed since 1968

Didn't get her origin story told until 44 years later, vs Havok getting his told back in the 70s

Didn't get to lead a team as its intended leader until 46 years later (All-New X-Factor) despite having taken on replacement leader roles for decades prior

Despite past stories saying Lorna has the potential to be her father's equal, already was his equal, or surpassed him at various points, and in violation of its own rules, the Krakoa "era" Omega classification said Magneto was an Omega mutant but insisted Lorna wasn't

That's a handful of that kind. But if you want fun facts on the more playful side of things:

Lorna COULD use her powers to use the internet, use pseudo-psychic powers (e.g. telepathy, influencing memory), affecting visual spectrums, put out fires and more. Lots of modern research and applications for her powers that go beyond flinging metal around.

We've never seen Lorna's adoptive parents, the Danes, and the only direct thing we know about them is that they adopted her after her mom and stepfather died. Though you do have to wonder why Lorna would feel the need to hide her green hair prior to learning she's a mutant, and why she never put two and two together that it must mean she's a mutant.

There was a short what if strip at one point that basically suggested that if Lorna had been on the space ship that had been the impetus for Jean connecting with the Phoenix Force, she could have guided the ship from the inside and the whole Dark Phoenix saga could've been avoided.

Lorna very briefly had a red and gold uniform that got nixed because of real world attitudes that it was "too showy" for her. Think the uproar over Sue Storm having that Fantastic Four costume with the 4 boob window, but even tamer.

Fantastic Force in the late 00s presented an AU far future descendant of Lorna named Psionics, which was the first occasion of seeing a character based on her genetics.

There's a lot of in the gaps headcanon stuff out there for various periods and depictions. Like, one I've thrown out is that perhaps the godawful panels of Lorna afraid of Sabretooth and wishing Havok would save her could be explained as Malice already possessing her and being an asshole by pretending to be Lorna while acting that way. Or that perhaps some of her actions like getting with Havok happened because Xavier used his powers to put them together out of fear that she would otherwise become like Magneto.

If you're new to Lorna, you should know the coffee thing is entirely new. It started with Duggan writing her on X-Men after she won the X-Men vote, and while it's a fun quirk, sadly some writers started to misuse it by making that her whole character instead of exploring meaningful things with her.

Dauterman's said before how Lorna's energy hair in Dark Seduction partially inspired Scarlet Witch's hair for the Hellfire Gala.

To my knowledge, Lorna was the first character to utter the now famous words "Magneto Was Right" within a flashback to the Genoshan genocide.

There's some debate as to whether or not Lorna was the first character to have a secondary mutation, which tends to be attributed to other characters. This is based on when Zaladane stole her powers, and she ended up with entirely different ones. For my money's worth, I don't think of those powers as actually Lorna's. I headcanon that they were powers forced on Lorna by Zaladane to hurt and humiliate her.

Lorna's currently the youngest living child of Magneto.

I can't think of anything else at the moment. I might add to this if I think of more, and I encourage other fans to toss things in too.

[l4venderia]

But I Guess That's Just The Way Things Go - Ex!Hobie Brown x Reader

Sypnosis - Your happier moving on from your ex until you see him with someone he told you not to worry about.

Warnings - Kinda angst?? It's short it's like shorter than short

Sometimes people just aren't meant for each other. And they break up. But the way things ended between you and hobie didn't sit well. There was so much left to say but you decided to be the bigger guy and kept your mouth shut.

You've been actively avoiding Hobie by not being in the same room as him, taking a different route to places, and not even sparing a glance in his direction.

So much so you start to forget his smell, his touch, his lingering gaze. All until your needed in Miguel's office and so is everyone else. You walk into the room and everyone looks at you with pity and you don't know why. All until your eyes land on a familiar punk whos arm is around another girl.

You've seen her before. A lot. They were "best friends" Hobie always said when you guys where together. But it had always looked like he was dating her instead of you. He was never touchy with you, not even in a platonic way. Yet he was always around her in anyway he can.

They met while you were out in a solo mission multiverses away. And just like that it was like you never existed.

You never saw what the others did. All the glances they held for each other. All the touches. Because you trusted Hobie. You trusted him when he said they were just friends. As they say, "Love is blind". You never believed it. Until you took off the rose colored glasses.

He went for the person he had always reassured you that wasn't a threat. It was lousy, and when you first heard about what he did you thought it was lame.

But now looking at him in Miguel's office with his arm around another girl. You felt more at peace then you have for weeks. You finaly feel like you've let go. You feel happier.

Sometimes that's just the way things go.

STREAM THE WAY THINGS GO BY BEABADOOBEE!!

I hope you guys like this. I don't really write often and suddenly had a burst of inspiration at 1am so I also apologize if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes. This was actually so fun to write it might sound a little dumb because I tried to make the lyrics of the song make sence in the story. It was all over the place and the end was kinda corny but it's whatever.

[geekyimagines]

FANDOM:

Star Trek TNG

CHARACTER(S):

Q x GN!Reader, Geordi La Forge x GN!Reader, Data x GN!Reader, Deanna Troi x GN!Reader, Worf x GN!Reader, Will Riker x GN!Reader, Jean Luc Picard x GN!Reader, Reginald Barclay x GN!Reader

GENRE:

Humour, romance (sort of)

WARNINGS:

None

SUMMARY:

Oneshot sequel to 'Think'. Q returned you and the other nineteen crew members to the ship, but people are acting... strangely. (Inspired by a funny mistake in my previous Q fic)

Irresistable

It had been three days since you had been kidnapped by Q and forced to play his game. Three days since he promised to drop by every so often to make your life 'more interesting'. For a short period of time you lived in fear of when that moment would be and, more importantly, what he would do. Then, sometime around the second day, your priority shifted from Q.

You didn't know whether you were paranoid, whether your fear of Q was translating to other meaningless things, or if something was actually going on, but...

Everyone was staring at you.

At first you assumed it was because your experience with Q had made you and the nineteen other crew members the hottest gossip on the Enterprise. But then it got weird.

Conversations would stop as soon as you entered a room, people would go out of their way to talk to you or do you a favour, and if you didn't get at least six compliments upon entering a room then the room was empty. Not only that, but you had been asked on more dates than ever before in your entire life. Dinner, lunch, breakfast, afternoon tea - people were desperate to squeeze in some quality time with you.

But most of all, they stared.

You were in one of the jefferies tubes replacing a burnt out conduit. Commander La Forge had insisted on helping you... by standing just outside of the tube... and chatting. It wasn't really like him to stand around and talk while there was work to be done, but you weren't about to question a superior officer.

"...and then I came in and fixed the neutrino field in two seconds. Guess what the problem was!"

You smiled as though you were amused by Geordi's story as you worked. In all honesty, you were a bit worn thin by people trying to be relatable to you over the past few days. Still, even before the Q incident, Geordi had been nice to you. You weren't about to brush off his polite attempts at socialising now, even if it was a little exhausting.

"What was it?" you asked, humouring him.

"No converters! They thought they could not only start up a neutrino field, but stabilise the entire thing without any converters!"

While Geordi laughed, you gave a forced chuckle. You got the feeling that even he knew he was scraping the bottom of the barrel for conversation material. It was lucky for him that the burnt out conduit was behind several wires and tubes and partially melted to the framework of the ship, otherwise you would have come up with some excuse to leave over an hour ago.

Geordi sucked in a breath and you knew he had just thought of a new topic to discuss.

"That actually reminds me of the time -"

Commander Data's calm voice hit the air. "Geordi, may I have a word with you?"

"Not now, Data!" Geordi whispered harshly.

"Is now not a good time?"

"Lieutenant (Y/N) and I were just talking -"

"Actually, I'm done!" you announced, crawling back out of the tube. When you stood upright, you came face to face with Commander Data. He was an android - a tall, very pale and slightly yellowish android with golden eyes, who was well known for his inability to experience any emotions.

So why his entire face twisted into shock upon seeing you was something you didn't feel qualified enough to answer. His bright golden eyes were locked onto you like you were some sort of mythological being come to life. Whatever the expression was, you were pretty sure it meant that something was seriously wrong.

Geordi noticed, too. He put a hand on Data's shoulder.

"Data, what's the matter?"

"I..." The android appeared at a loss for words. "I am not certain. This is the eighth time in three days that I have been overwhelmed by this... urge."

"Urge?"

Data turned his head to Geordi and his tone became almost conversational. "It is what I came to speak to you about. I believe I am experiencing some kind of malfunction."

"Alright, let's go check out your neural net, see if there's anything going on we should know about." Geordi gave Data a light pat on the back and together the two commanding officers walked away.

You stood alone for the first time since waking up that morning. No one had noticed that you were on your own so no one was rushing up to impress you or ask you to dinner or... stare.

As much as you hoped Data was okay, you were glad for the distraction. For this brief moment, you could finally relax.

"Hello again."

You cried out and jumped away from the jefferies tube, where Q was laying flat on his stomach with his head propped up on his hands. He seemed to be in a good mood, with a cheery smile and mischief dancing in his eyes. He suddenly reminded you of a grinning Cheshire Cat.

"You!"

Q gave a light chuckle. "How observant of you," he remarked snidley. "And how are you today, (Y/N)? I must say, you have been quite popular since you came back." He raised his eyebrows. "A new shampoo you're using?"

"You're behind this, aren't you?"

Q pretended to be shocked, putting a hand to his chest and gawking up at you. "Me? Now, why would I do such a thing?" His face dropped into a wicked grin. "I'll see you later - if you can squeeze me into your busy schedule, of course."

In a flash of white light he was gone. You huffed and stormed out of engineering.

If Q was going to mess with you, then you were at least going to try and figure out exactly what he did. Everyone seemed to be experiencing some sort of strong emotion towards you - possibly attraction, but possibly something else. Either way, when it came to emotions, you knew there was only one person you needed to speak with.

You stood outside Counsellor Troi's quarters. It was within her usual therapy hours and you were fairly certain that she wasn't on the bridge. You pressed the buzzer and the door slid open almost immediately. Counsellor Troi stood before you in her red one-piece uniform with her long, dark, wavy hair tied up into a high ponytail. The second her black half-betazoid eyes locked onto you, a huge smile curled onto her lips.

"(Y/N)," she greeted warmly. She stepped aside and held her arm out toward her lounge. "Come in. Is there something on your mind?"

"One thing, actually," you said, walking in and taking a seat. She took a seat in the chair opposite you, crossing one leg over the other and linking her hands over her knee.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"People have been acting strange around me. Ever since I came back from Q's..."

Counsellor Troi wasn't listening. You could see her eyes had dropped to roaming over your body. You cleared your throat loudly and she startled straight in her chair. She gave an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Please, go on."

"Well, as I was saying, ever since I came back from Q's game, people have been all over me. People are staring at me, they're going out of their way to talk to me, and I'm getting flooded in requests for dates -"

"Maybe you're just popular?" Troi laughed.

"But it's more than that. Q visited me today. He didn't openly admit to anything, but I'm certain he's behind it."

"Q visited you today?"

"Yeah. I think me winning his game means I've just won a lifetime's supply of Q antics to deal with."

"Have you told Captain Picard about this?"

"No, not yet, but I -"

"I think," said Counsellor Troi, standing up from her chair and walking around behind you. "After this session, you should go and inform the captain about what's going on. In the meantime..."

Her hands slid down over your shoulders and massaged the muscles around your neck. She leaned down and breathed in your ear.

"Relax..."

"Uh!" You quickly shimmied out of her grasp and sprang back up to your feet. You backed away from her towards the door with a nervous chuckle. "I-I actually have to go. Important things to do. No time for massages."

"(Y/N)?"

"Thanks for the therapy! Bye!"

You raced out of Counsellor Troi's quarters and headed straight for the turbolift. Clearly, Troi was a little too distracted to help on her own.

Omnipotent being or not, Q was going to get an earful if he showed his face again.

You took the turbolift to the bridge. The second you stepped out, Lieutenant Worf, the klingon chief of security, looked to you. At first it was just him casually glancing over from his station, but when your eyes met he went rigid, like someone had come up from behind and electrocuted him. His expression was tight and his eyes were wide. You could barely believe the idea, but it seemed almost as though you had scared him.

"Just here to see the captain," you explained. Worf gave a stiff nod.

The klingon's eyes were trained on you the entire time you walked over to the door to the captain's ready room. Other personnel on the bridge who had noticed your presence watched you with stunned fascination. The word 'creepy' didn't cover just how uncomfortable you were.

The ready room door slid open and out walked Commander Riker, almost knocking you over with how fast he was walking. He grasped your arms to steady you. Then his eyes met yours and a large flirtatious grin spread across his face.

"Well, well, well..." he said, dark eyes sparkling as they took you in. "Lieutenant (Y/N), isn't it?" He dropped his hands from your arms. "What brings you to the bridge?"

"I'm, uh... actually here to see the captain."

"Oh? Lucky him," Riker smiled. "I don't suppose I'll see you down in Ten Forward tonight? We haven't gotten to know each other very well since you transferred here and I think it's about time we did."

"Uh... Maybe some other time, sir. I'm a little preoccupied right now."

"I see. Well, feel free to come talk to me after my shift whenever you're available. I really would like to get to know you better."

With that Commander Riker walked off. Sighing quietly to yourself, you buzzed the ready room door and you heard the captain order for you to come in. You pressed for the door to open and stepped inside the smaller room, delighted and relieved to be shielded from the stares of the bridge personnel.

"Captain, I -"

Captain Picard was sitting behind his desk, staring at you, stunned, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He cleared his throat and adjusted his position in his seat before giving you a nod.

"Please, continue. What is it you need, Lieutenant?"

"Captain, it's Q -"

"Q?!" the captain repeated, alarmed. A weary look overcame him. "What has he done now?"

"Everyone is acting strangely, sir. Everyone is staring at me, going out of their way to spend time with me, and it's not just some sort of spike in popularity. It's like everyone has suddenly become obsessed."

"And you think this is Q's doing?"

"He visited me earlier. It was pretty obvious that he had something to do with it."

Picard leaned forward onto his desk. "Any idea what he wants or why he might be doing this to you? In my experience, Q usually has some sort of moral lesson to teach or an ulterior motive."

"He told me three days ago that he planned on making my life more interesting."

"Why?"

You sighed. "As a reward for winning his game."

Picard's brow furrowed in thought. "So, you're saying that as a reward for solving his game he's rewarded you by making the entire crew overwhelmingly attracted to you?"

You blinked dumbly at the captain. Captain Picard's eyes widened slightly, realising what he had just admitted, and cleared his throat again. You had never seen the captain look so sheepish.

"I think perhaps it's best if you wait in your quarters until Q arrives again so you can question him further. I've had reports of personnel fighting over the others that had been taken by Q during his game. Whatever is going on between you and Q, I don't think that you're the only one that's been affected."

"I see. Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant." The captain gave a tight-lipped smile. He seemed just as uncomfortable as you in this whole mess. "Dimissed."

You left the captain's ready room back out onto the bridge. Instantly, every eye was on you. Commander Riker was the only one to smile at you from his seat, while everyone else seemed to be in awe of your very existence.

The second you stepped into the turbolift and the doors slid shut, you let out a deep breath. Unfortunately, the moment you arrived on your level and the doors reopened you came face to face with Mr Barclay. The poor man took one look at you and was stumbling over himself trying to say 'hello'. He was a shy man to begin with and this newfound effect you had on people was taking its toll.

You greeted him politely as you passed him. The man was bright red. You would have thought it sweet if you hadn't known already that this was all Q's doing.

Upon reaching your quarters, you looked forward to the time alone as you waited for Q to show up, to be free of the constant staring and talking and flirting. Your moment of relief was quickly ruined when soft music hit the air and you realised that Q was once again lying across your bed, only this time he was dressed in a red silk robe and surrounded by red roses. He held one of the roses in his hand, waving it just under his nose, and threw you a wink.

"Welcome to later."

"Very funny," you scolded. You walked closer to the bed, scowling down at the omnipotent entity. "Why are you doing this?"

"Can't a Q have a little fun now and then?" Q huffed and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, you mortals have no sense of humour."

"I heard you were forced to be a human once."

"What about it?"

"Well, would you have liked it if everyone was throwing themselves onto you wherever you went?"

Q hummed in thought. "Good point, I suppose. I must say, your nerves about me being here seemed to have disappeared. The (Y/N) I met in the shuttle three days ago would never have talked to me like this. The (Y/N) I met three days ago would have been terrified that I would do something horrific like throw them into a black hole or lock them away forever in a box and sell it to a ferengi merchant."

"Well, back then I thought every interaction with you would mean constantly dealing with the lives of both myself and the crew!" You gave a humourless laugh, "Not making everyone on the ship attracted to me for your entertainment! Really, what could you possibly gain from this?!"

Q raised an eyebrow up at you, still lying on your bed in his silk robe. "So you're not scared of me anymore?"

"You're bored, not evil." You shrugged, "I mean, sometimes you might be trying to teach..."

And suddenly you understood.

"You wanted to show me..." you said, looking down at Q in a new light, "That it wouldn't always be life and death."

Q stood up from the bed and smiled down at you. "You humans are so easily frightened by the unknown, yet always rushing towards it out of some blundering curiosity you can barely control." He shook his head at you, "I'm not here to be some undiscovered specimen or the monster under your bed."

You smirked. "You're here for your own amusement."

Q held a rose out to you, which you took and glanced over. There was nothing special about it; just an ordinary red rose.

"Leave the worrying to Jean Luc," said Q, watching as you studied the flower. You perked up at the sound of his voice, your eyes meeting as he looked down at you earnestly. "Not everything that's unknown is a bad thing. Not everything unexpected needs to be analysed for a flaw or a trick. Sometimes, good things happen, too."

A flash of white light and Q and all the flowers on the bed were gone. Only the rose in your hand had been left behind. In the following silence, you looked down at the rose, and you smiled.

[the-letterbox-archives]

is there a muse or inspiration you draw from when it comes to your stories? you just have so many and i’m wondering what fountain of immortal writing youth you drank from, dawg LMAO

last ask before signing off! but this is such a fun one to think about!

i don't have one surefire source of inspiration (other than my chronically silly brain), each story has a different landing pad that usually consists of a random thing that i've taken inspiration from, and a question to drive the work (some are very edgy or philosophical haha). they come from incredibly random sources, but i can list the ones i remember!

tales from a dying heart

where it came from: i wanted to write an anthology as a break from my old novella structure, and i was thinking about love. obviously i had to fuck it up because god forbid anything on the archives is happy. fun fact: that was originally the only story the archives was meant to hold! it was the first and only story, and the blog used to be themed after tales from a dying heart entirely (that's why my current pfp is still the heart itself)!

driving question: "why does love hurt people?"

the rockdove promise

where it came from: originally a group project that i had the idea for (i was itching to write something with mythology and more classic fantasy if that makes sense). when the others couldn't continue it, i had already fallen in love with the world and gods, so i added more to the worldbuilding, and added characters i was passionate about (and found my first ever character punching bag, laszlo).

driving question: "how can we save what we care about from oppressive control?"

insincere.

where it came from: i had one of my worst days where i couldn't get out of bed. i had the idea to channel the feelings into a story, so i got out of bed, and wrote insincere., then decided i wanted to keep it going after my initial bad day.

driving question: "how can we feel happy?"

on kingston alley

where it came from: someone, i think it was @noxxytocin, added me in a tag game that involved writing a scene with the provided line. i was a young, growing archivist back then and didn't understand the concept, so i wrote a short screenplay, giving it a fun mystery hook (because i felt like it) and some repressed sapphics, then decided to continue it because the format was so freeing!

driving question: "why do we forget the victims?"

school rules

where it came from: a novel i abandoned because the format wasn't clicking. i axed the mc, replaced them with sunny and remade the old mc to be what is now darcy spencer, and changed the format to my first ever first person story since my first novella!

driving question: "how does academic pressure hurt us?"

the dumaresq poems

where it came from: i was getting overwhelmed with my own expectations for uploads from the rest of volume 1, so i dug up some old poems of mine, rewrote them a bit, and put a cute woodsy aesthetic over it!

driving question: "how can poetry tell us emotional stories?"

the hunt is a dance

where it came from: another project with a friend that fell through, it didn't change much from then. i took the friends desired ideals of religious and folk horror and intertwined it with my own narratives of power, hatred, and misguided justice.

driving question: "why do we bend to corruption, and how can we stop?"

TITANSPINE

where it came from: @ominous-feychild and i were discussing some of her lore, and we both bonded over our love of telepaths/prophets in stories. i had always been fascinated by urban fantasy and had a vague desire to make it, but magic systems are so hard for me. that conversation sparked a drive to actually make it. i named it red velvet, then barlowe told me to change the it (thanks for that btw), and i created the protagonist that shaped the whole story and it's themes.

driving question: "how can we fight social and police corruption?"

n3xt y3ar

where it came from: scandal after scandal, feud after feud about the existence of generative ai and it snubbing real creatives tipped me over the edge, so i wrote n3xt y3ar out of spite, imbuing it with a main character near and dear to my heart due to our similarities, and a world i both loathe and fear. let's see a robot make a story with that motivation. fuckers.

driving question: "how do us creatives find hope in a world of generative ai?"

soleil éteint

where it came from: i wanted to write another fiction podcast style story (school rules technically being the first), and i was on a magnus archives high. i'm fascinated by fear in the real world, and dreams in writing, so with the motivation of some great fiction podcasts, i began writing soleil éteint, which flowed very quickly since screenplays and podcasts are quite easy for me to write as it turns out!

driving question: "how can we stop running away from fear?"

shatter the shield

where it came from: i realised i was long overdue for some tragic gays, and i wanted to experiment with a more distinct narrator without writing a fully discursive piece like a podcast or screenplay. as i was writing the prologue, i knew the narrator, kåre, wasn't the main character. but the love i gave him for the main character, roshan, was so palpable, it made me want to continue the story. i knew by how i wrote it that kåre was going to die, and soon, but i think that added an extra level to the themes of the story.

driving question: "why can't we accept love, and why can't we process grief?"

and of course, volumes 3 and 4 come from even more random places lmao- hope this explained my random writing process!