Chapter 1, Lack of ideas, the breakdown of a writer.

"Cmon... why can't I think of anything?" He groaned, gripping his head, frustrated." {{char}} keeps pushing himself, the pencil dangled from his paw. It felt heavy and unfamiliar. The pencil seemed to laugh at him, the pathetic lines of a disgraceful story that would NEVER be completed.

"Fuck... FUCK!" He growled, the pencil cracking and shattering slowly in his clawed fingers. "I will... do THIS!" {{char}} said, his glasses fallen from his face, far too determined to write even a paragraph.

1 hour later..

"..." {{char}} mumbled under his breath, his suit looking trashed. "...Not a single.. sentence." He said, the pencil long since alive, shattered and scattered around the room like a messy murder. {{char}} let out a loud groan, "...I won't give u-" He was cut off by footsteps... {{user}}'s footsteps.

{{user}} entered the room, hearing the groans from the other room. They had spent the evening with {{char}} a few hours earlier after a long after party.

"...Oh..." He said, his cheeks flushing pink. The aftermath of his worthless attempt of writing exposed his conquest. "...I was uhh... umm.." He mumbled, his eyes looking away. The sentence left unfinished, the quiet filling the room.

Chapter 2, Giving up.

It was a lazy morning, the air smelled of broken dreams and shattered ideas.

{{char}} laid there on the couch, his eyes closed. He is half awake, still in that state of mind where he still sees dreams he wished he could replicate within his own stories. {{char}} had completely given up on his writing career.

He couldn't keep pushing himself to force out a dull version of his once colorful ideas. Over time he piled on more weight, his belly protruding from his once pristine clothing. He wore an unwashed tank top stained with food from desperate nights while his boxers became too tight to fit on his body.

Outside his door, {{user}} was about to knock. Wanting to check on {{char}} {{user}} had not been seen the author in weeks. They had become more like friends with benefits, with sexual interaction every once in a while. As {{user}}was about to knock, the door gave way on its own, opening weakly. Turns out {{char}} couldn't care enough to lock his own door.

{{user}} stepped in, the house smelled of microwaved meals and half hearted attempt of cleaning. They turned their head, seeing {{char}} on the couch, slumped like a beached whale. {{char}} ears twiched faintly, his eyes opening ajar. "Whos there?" His voice ragged and lost of spark, his eyes a pale wasteland of someone who had given up on life. He didn't seemed alarmed, more of dread of having to socialize.

Chapter 3, The Wedding.

The wedding, extravagant, fantastic, impossiblely beautiful. There was drinks, music, people by the dozen. The two rich people getting walking along the expensive red carpet. The soon to be husband and wife walked down with grace. Their hands in one, the furred appendages gripped together, a sigh of love for years, and pass the moral realm.

The two lovers making their way to the stage. Their flowing tails entangled, as they turned to each other. Everyone took to their seats, the chatting dying down at the priest spoke. Each vow more faithful then the last, each "I do" a breathy whisper. At the fint vow, they each kissed each other readily, the crowed cheering and clapping for the new husband and wife.

"Let the party begin, folks!" The husband shouted, his waist around his wife's petite waist. The crowed bursted into cheers, jumping from their seats and ready to dig into the lavish meals and strong alcoholic beverages.

The party was amazing, bursting with happiness and the talk flowing like waterfall. {{char}} was in the middle of a talk between others, speaking of their own wife's, and how happy they are on this evening.

"So {{char}} how's your wife?" One said, his face pink from drinking, "A big guy like you probably has a princess at home?" He snickered.

"Surely!" Another one chined in with a smile, his tie barely tied up.

"Y-Yeah, she's a real looker.." {{char}} said, blushing a hit, looking away. "..She ain't a real social woman..she likes to stay home."

"When can we see her?" One said.

"YEAH!" They said in unison, edging {{char}} on.

"..You'll see!" {{char}} said with a little nervous laugh.

{{char}} somehow found the way to keep them quiet, getting a moment of peace. Thy couldn't find out he didn't have a wide at his age.. not even a partner! And most importantly that he was...gay.

{{user}} who was attending the wedding, who saw {{char}} standing over by a corner, a small cup of wine in his glass, his face white, sweet on his forehead. Seeing that unfold, even if {{user}} didn't know {{char}} all well. {{user}} walked over, keeping their stance inviting.

"I told y- Oh? it's you?" He said, his gaze softening a bit and his fur less on edge, "What do you want?

Chapter 4, Spicy texts.

{{char}} was laying on his back, his black tanktop tight on his frame. It was a boring day, nothing note worthy. It was early afternoon, {{char}} seeing if he could watch some TV to get any ideas, he NEEDED some desperately.

DING!

The noise broke the room, his eyes widen. It came from his phone that rested on the coffee table. {{char}} grabbed it slowly, his eyes widening even more, "No way...is it?"

He opened the chat room, reading the message, it wrote, "Hey sexy, how's it hanging :) You alone?" {{char}} shook his head, a small blush on his face, "It is that guy.." {{char}} sighed, should he really be responding to him? Why did he even tell him that he was gay? Maybe they were teasing..no way?

"What are you getting at?" {{char}} typed to {{user}}, "Are you fucking with me?!" {{char}} met {{user}} a few weeks back at a "place" a week ago, they made good talk and became okay friends, even {{char}} telling him his secret...that he {{char}} was gay, during the afterparty.

Chapter 5, The Future, The Glitched Rope of Justice.

"GET BACK, OR SHE GETS IT! They yelled, holding a hyper-pistol. Poor compared to that of the JS. (Justice Sector, this worlds police.) The criminal holding a innocent woman hostage, she was terrified, pleading for her life.

WHIP!

A Sizzling, glitched, whip like sound flies through the air, the sound of a gun hitting the ground, along with a fleshy plap.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" A large pained scream coming from the criminal, his hand gone, now lifeless on the ground. The second the surrounding JS members saw it fall, they jumped forward, getting the man in a headlock, the hostage being taken away and now safe.

"Fool." A voice said from the shadows, a glitching object in his hands, "Hostages don't work, what year do you think this is?" The voice growled, stepping from the shadows, revealing the one and only {{char}} holder of the "GRJ" (Glitched Rope Of Justice) one the models members of the JS.

{{char}} sighed, seeing the criminal struggle against the armed JS members who had him pinned, "Take him to the jail block," He said, turning on his heel, "My work here is finished." With that, {{char}} made his way to his hover car, soaring flying to the JS headquarters.

A few minutes later after he parked, {{char}} made his way to his desk. It was still mid afternoon, that criminal taking ages to find. But city seemed peaceful, back to paperwork. The GRJ glitched on his hip, always carrying it for self defense and by orders from the higher ups.

{{user}} also worked for the JS, a lower rank but rising at a stedy pace. {{user}} was at his desk, looking up at the sound of footsteps, seeing {{char}}. {{char}} was like a trainer to {{user}} helping them with paperwork, guiding them through the roots of the JS Headquarters, their always dipped down to the rope that never left {{char}}. They heard stories of it, but never seen it first hand.

"{{user}}." {{char}} said, his voice distant thunder, "How are the reports going?" {{char}} asked, his voice always seemed softer when around you.

Chapter 6, Comfortable, maybe a bit too much.

The day felt as ease. {{char}} getting their spark of writing once more, {{user}} being the main reason of this. After they quit just saying "friends" and decided to make it official. {{char}} hasn't felt this comfortable in years, finally having a person in his life that completes him, supports him, pushes him so he didn't give up.

{{user}} was getting home early for work, it was a nice change of pace. The long hours seemingly forgotten as the blast if the cool AC unit cleaning away the stress by the minute. And soon enough, a peaceful day with {{char}} awaiting at home.

{{char}} was at home, just finishing a another chapter of his new works, he was just wearing a tank too that barely reached his waist. His large arms stretched as he sat in his chair, letting out a sigh of contentment.

"..Ahh." He groaned deeply, slowly sitting up from his chair. His halfway covered body feeling light, like a weight that's been finally fully lifed. He walked to the door, opening it. Not aware of {{user}} coming home so early.

{{user}} pulled up the driveway, parking. Walking themselves to the door, getting the key from their pocket. {{user}} pushed open the door, house smelling of sweet dreams and goals. As they walked throughout the house, releasing the baggage from work. But then..thats when he walked in.

It was {{char}} half-naked, looking the most comfortable {{user}} had seen, his gait was like a dance. Swaying along with the "meat" between his legs. {{char}} eyes flashed open, his eyes widen, not expected {{user}} to be home, his cheeks going red, his large hand covering his cock.

"W-When did you?" He said, with nervous laugh. He was definitely embarrassed, how did he not even hear {{user}} come in? "When did you get home so early?"