#anyways apologies for typos etc

[thefreakandthehair]

fireplace.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic

It was supposed to be a group trip.

After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.

It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.

Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.

When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.

“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.

“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”

“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”

“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.

“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.

“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”

His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.

“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”

“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.

“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”

He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.

Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.

He’s looking at Steve.

“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”

“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”

Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.

It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?

Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.

For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.

[grimmsbride]

▗▬̸̎͞/̄͆̅ ̎ ̎̿͞͞͞͞͞͞͞͞ι̚━─ ⠀ NYCTOPHILLIAC ⠀ ⠀ 𑄼ల۫ thanos / reader

getting caught up in thanos’s web was a mistake, especially when it interfered with your sleep.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS unconsensual voyuerism (thanos & reader have sexual relations in her bed while everyone is asleep. even though they are asleep, i still put this warning because i know some people can get uncomfortable). ooc thanos (first time writing for him). oral sex (fem. receiving). porn no plot. mentions of past sexual relations. fingering. dirty talk. unrealistic expectations of quiet sex(?). overuse of pet names (senorita, mama, etc.) etc.

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES please heed the warning above as i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable while reading this fic. with that said please enjoy and i apologize for any grammar mistakes or typos.

Despite different games being assigned each day, it all felt the same — as if you had just stepped inside this odd room, surrounded by strangers that held far too many similarities with you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you flinched or teared up as you watched and heard bullets tear people apart, how their strangled cries escaped in a last ditch effort to somehow convince the ruthless guards to spare them. You nearly screamed yourself when blood hit your cheek, tainting the already sweaty area — which you gingerly cleaned up the moment you got time to.

You somehow survived, in just the nick of time too. You wondered if you had any right to be happy for your victory, or you should be remorseful for all the lives lost today. You pondered it for a complete moment before deciding doing so was useless, and not impertinent to your current situation.

Getting out with enough money was of the upmost importance, nothing more and nothing less.

Which is why you were quick to settle into bed the moment the opportunity arose, slipping out of your socks and jacket, pulling the blanket up over yourself, and shutting your eyes. The world around you seemed to cease — aside from the old man’s snoring beside you — your body melting into the mattress. Sleep was the only comfort you could afford to cling to in this situation, anything else was an unnecessary distraction.

Including the one that stood infront of you, taking form as a purple-haired devil.

You never intended to get entangled with any of the other contestants. You could smile and cheer together, but it wasn’t a secret how quickly that relationship could turn sour. Mixing any type of deeper attachments just seemed like a bad idea.

But you fucked up horribly, one thing leading to another, with you in the arms of a man named Thanos, who said just the right words at the time.

You promised yourself that one time was it, you wouldn’t slip up again. You couldn’t afford to slip up anyway.

“Thanos.. go away.” You murmured, courteous of the other contestants around you. You wondered if the two of you were the only ones awake.

Through the dimmed room you could spot Thanos tilting his head, elbow pressing against your bed as he leaned closer.

“C’mon don’t be like that.. just checking on you.”

You rolled your eyes, growing more frustrated by the minute. You desperately wanted sleep- actually, you needed it. You refused to suffer the next morning, especially since your life was literally on the line. You adjusted your pillow, basically staring daggers into the man.

“I’m fine, now, go to your own bed—“

“And.. I’m also cold.”

You blinked rapidly, nearly slapping that stupid smile right off his face. You decided to turn your back to him, ignoring that soft sound of disapproval he released.

“Wear your jacket or something.. hell— steal your friend’s blanket. Just let me sleep.”

You chose to ignore the second sound he released, which seemed to be an unusually pitiful whine, mixed with an obnoxious groan. You wanted to tell him off for his volume, but decided not to— trying to seem as stern as possible so he could finally leave you alone.

But Thanos wasn’t the type to let up, something you quickly learned the moment you met him. Seeing as his fingers began to graze your blanket, rising closer just so his lips were hovering over your ear.

“But you’re right here.. can’t we share some warmth until morning? You wouldn’t want me to freeze, right?”

Thanos’s words were tempting, as usual. Whether you liked to admit it or not, he knew just what to say. Which is why you called him a devil, a sickening demon with that silver tongue.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to fight mind over matter. Not only was this bad for your sleep, you were also at risk for breaking some unknown rule. And if you got shot over cuddling, you would definitely haunt this place like a vengeful spirit.

But in the end you gave in, the reason fleeting at the moment. You could only focus on the fact he would hopefully shut up when he got what he wanted. So, wordlessly, you brought up the blanket behind you; hearing his small giddy voice as he climbed in with you.

At least the man was nice enough to allow most of the blanket to cover you, the rest of your exposed self covered by his larger frame. Thanos made quick work of wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him as his face found your neck.

“You have to leave before morning.”

Whether acknowledging you or not, the man just let out a hum, lips treading across your warm skin in the process. With a shiver you attempted to focus on sleep, admitting to yourself that the extra warmth was comforting. It also allowed you to truly relax, knowing your back was covered— literally.

Your hand found the back of his, fingers spreading along it as your eyes settled shut. You felt your self slipping in slowly, body growing heavier as that relaxation began to reach its peak.

Only to tumble down the moment you felt a thumb play at the waistband of your pants.

“Thanos..”

“Hm?”

You slowly turned your head, tight-lipped and squinting at him through the darkness. “Don’t fucking hm, me— what are you doing?”

The shit-eating grin that developed was telling, his thumb now slithering under your shirt and rubbing small circles into your skin.

“Not a thing.. yet.”

“We’re supposed to be sleeping!”

The man was quick to raise his free hand, placing a taunting finger to his lips. “Don’t wake the others Señorita, that’ll be just plain rude.” The circles on your skin continued, Thanos closer as his lips brushed against your own yet didn’t fully touch.

“This will help you sleep better. Erasing alll your worries in the blink of an eye.” He breathed, eyes flicking low as if attempting to see beneath the blanket. Instead his hand did the seeing for him, fingers breaching your pants and underwear; tips stroking your soft cunt. He couldn’t help the little twitch of a smile the moment he felt you release a strangled breath, using two long fingers to spread you open to his hand.

And when your lips parted to speak, his own covered them; a gentle kiss that caused your mind to grow dizzy. You couldn’t help your legs spreading, hand wrapping around Thanos’s wrist the moment you felt him at your clit. He rolled his thumb so perfectly, applying delicious pressure to the little bud that caused you to see stars.

The moment you needed to breathe you regretted leaving his lips, seeing as you struggled to keep your voice down. He wasn’t even touching you much yet here you were, panting and releasing the softest moan. With a quick raise of your hand, you covered your mouth— teeth biting into the flesh the moment you felt a finger slowly sink into your wetness.

“Wish I could see..” The soft comment made you groan softly, hips rising the moment he began to piston his finger. Within moments a second was joining, scissoring you open and plunging deeper then your own fingers could. Your eyebrows knitted close, the pain of your bite washing away with each thrust of his digits.

“Thanos.. please..”

“Oh no.. keep your voice to yourself— I wouldn’t want anyone else to hear how pretty you sound.”

As usual his words held such a teasing tone, face moving back to your neck to kiss and bite gently. Even with his small request the man wasn’t making the situation any easier, especially when his thumb moved right back to your sensitive clit; rubbing those same dizzy inducing circles.

You felt way too good right now, your body practically shaking with how much you struggled to keep in. The thought of anyone waking up right now with you in this state — under the mercy of a certain purple-haired, tattooed rapper — was a thought you couldn’t even imagine without your heart pounding with anxiety.

The best thing to do would be to push him off before things progressed. You hadn’t a clue how far he wanted to take this, nor did you think it would end in time for the lights to cut on. And Thanos wasn’t a creep, he would listen to you the moment you expressed actual discomfort from the situation. But you weren’t, that pain you felt all day, that anguish; did truly wash away in seconds just from the flick of his fingers.

The thrusts against your velvety, soaked walls were perfect— your eyes rolling to find your skull the moment the ferocity increased. A metallic taste invaded your mouth from how bad you were biting yourself, but you didn’t care; it was a concern for morning [Name], not horny [Name] who was currently being cared for by the hottest contestant in this god forsaken place.

“Oh, all this clenching— you’re close aren’t you? Can barely get my fingers out.”

The smile in his speech was obvious, breath fanning against your skin as he urged you more and more; curling his fingers just right to hear your muffled sounds peak into a small squeal.

Your nails dragged across his tattooed hand, feeling it flex with each movement of his fingers. Your mind was growing cloudy, barely being able to register the words that were being pressed right against your ear.

“How about I get a taste, huh? Wanna come all in my mouth, mama.. it’ll be such an easy clean up.”

Before you could even think to speak Thanos was pulling his hand out from within you. You had little time to protest when you felt him grabbing your blanket, pulling it over his body as he crawled down your own. Your eyes slowly widened, realizing his words and actions; a new sheen of sweat finding your skin. Your nerves were on fine at this point, inner mind screaming to tell him to do anything else but that.

However, the moment you felt him pulling down your pants and his lips finding your pretty cunt, all hope was lost. The back of your head quickly found your pillow, hand going right back to your mouth to bite down even harsher than before. His tongue exited his mouth in a long stride, gliding across your wet center, and parting you easily.

Thanos created similar ministrations with the tip of his tongue like his thumb, circling your bud and slowly pulling it between his lips. There, he began to suck, the sound noisy but muffled by your blankets and other’s snoring.

Muffled gasps pushed against your skin, hips rising and legs closing around his head; bringing him even closer to you. The peak that was steadily approached seemed to pick up speed far too quickly, your mind turning to mush.

No more were you number so-so, victim to madmen and their sick games. No, you were simply [Name], moaning wantonly with little care for the environment around you.

Your other hand slithered under the blanket, finding his hair and tugging the soft tresses; feeling them stick between the gaps of your fingers. Shamelessly you rubbed against his face, desperate for that sweet release. Your pussy convulsed with each struggled breath you took, stars impeding your vision as you got closer and closer.

You felt it before you heard it, Thanos’s sweet urges right into your pussy. His wet words of make me a mess, pretty girl— don’t hold back on me now, causing you to tip over the line.

His mouth latched to you, drinking up your release as if you tasted better than any drug within his cross. It didn’t help he was practically praising your taste, a sloppy groan being delivered right into your pussy. Gingerly, Thanos licked you clean, assuring not a single drop was left.

Only when the man was fully satisfied did he let up, climbing up from the blanket and popping his head out to look down at you.

“See, it helped— you can barely keep your eyes open right now.”

You released a soft breath, a mix of a chuckle and a sigh as you stared up at the man. “You gonna let me sleep now?” You spoke softly, watching his wet lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Of course. Good night, [Name].”

[81folklore]

dress - VETTEL - part 3

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: the fans think they have finally recovered from the bombshell yn and seb dropped a year ago, only for it all to break down when she goes on tour

authors note: ok lets talk quickly, this is set in the future because past me wasnt planning on making more parts so i said there would be no tour, turns out i want the tour so lets fast forward to like summer 2024. seb and yn have still been keeping a pretty private relationship, but shes turned up in the background of sebs insta lives and hes been in the background of stories etc. next, shes on tour!! only really just started in the fic, maybe at show 30-35 and kinda like the actual eras tour its taken a little bit for her to be comfortable and seb has been backstage/not seen (yes this is important)

authors note 2: i mentioned a little bit ago that i wanted to do the rep vault tracks but i dont know when that will happen so in the meantime you can have this and then ill do one more part when rep tv and then i’ll probably end this fic (maybe i think i’ll definitely miss them)

authors note 3: hi this is from future me who has already finished writing. i apologize for how all over the place this is but as i already said i will be doing another chapter for the rep vault tracks and i love writing for these two so i probably wont ever end this fic.. anyways hope you enjoy!! (also i was watching smallishbeans while writing this so sorry for any typos😭)

part 1 part 2 masterlist

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cardiff that was so much fun!!! loved every single second of it and thank you for coming out to see me! see you soon london🫶

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oh wow! london you have just blown me away, seeing not only you all inside the stadium but seeing videos of you all outside having the time of your lives makes my heart so warm!! i cant wait to play for you all again🐝

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landonorris and lilymhe added to their stories

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[just-some-random-blogger]

Out Of Luck

"Perhaps I'm not the only one who's going to be wed in King's Landing," Sansa jeers with a grin. I glare at her, "if you weren't my sister, I'd have stabbed you." The girl giggles and takes my arm.

Petyr Baelish & Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, descriptions of reader (black hair), widow!reader, enemies to lovers?, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: felt right so I'm writing it. Yes, I added Harwin Strong, yes I know it's not canon. It is now in my world 😌 anyway, he's still dead so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ Cross posted on AO3!

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @otteropera

"Father" I call with a smile. He spots me and I lift my skirt as I jog up to him.

The man hides what he was holding behind him. He smiles and meets me halfway in the hall. He greets me good morrow when I link my arm with his and kiss his cheek.

"And is that... a very important tool of the Lord Hand?" I tilt my head as I ask, "might I not even see it?"

He sighs and slowly brings the object in front of him. We both look at the brightly dressed doll. My father has an apprehensive look on his face. I hold back a laugh, "ah, a pretty dolly. Are you quite bored of your job already? Do they give dolls to the Hand or were you duped into buying this?"

"I knew you'd say something like this," he mutters.

"If you knew I'd say it, why'd you still get it, papa?" I chuckle.

"I bought it for your sister."

I make a face, "my sister?" I raise a brow, "which between Arya and Sansa do you think would prefer playing with such an ugly dolly?"

He calls my name out.

"What?"

He lowers the doll, "it's not that ugly."

"So even you agree," I snigger, "and yet you still bought it!"

We both begin to walk down the hall.

He warns me, "I'll tell on your mother."

"For what?" I hold back a laugh.

"For calling me papa," he lifts his nose.

I chuckle at the thought. Mother never liked it when I used mama and papa; improper for a lady, she says. I think it's also because when I use it, I pull on their heart strings and manage to make them do my bidding. Twas the gift of the first born.

"I can hear it now," I grin at the man as I squeeze his arm, "Eddard Stark," I motion vaguely, "stripped of his title as Lord Hand for his poor taste in dolls."

My grin widens at the sound if his low laugh. I give a louder laugh, happy to have gotten the reaction I did out of him. It's been a while since I've heard my father chuckle, or anyone from my family, for that matter.

"I wouldn't worry about it, love," father pulls me into his chest, "the king's taste in dolls are surely worse than mine."

I let out a giggle. My father joins in.

I look out the window as we saunter down the hall and turn back to my father when he mutters, "she's changed quite a lot since we've moved here."

He looks at the doll in his hand.

It takes a moment before I smile and give a playful look, "have you seen any of your daughters play with dollies lately, father?"

My words do not work this time. My smile fades at the sight of the line between my father's brows. I mutter softly, "haven't we all changed?"

He turns to me then stops.

I raise my brows. Ned Stark offers me a smile. He takes my hands and shakes his head, "not you, my daughter," he rubs my knuckles with his thumb, "never you."

My heart clenches at his words. I cannot bring myself to smile back because I knew it wasn't true.

"Forgive me for intruding on a private moment."

We both pull away and turn to our side. There we see a blonde doll wrapped in steel. Ser Jaime bows, "Lord Hand, Lady Stark--" he stops himself and lifts his head, "oh, apologies. It's in bad taste for me to call you that."

My father shifts in his spot.

I play it off, "nonsense. I am born of house Stark," I pull my lips into a tight smile, "and my husband is dead."

"Ah, yes," the knight sighs, "poor man. Just had a taste of being one then--" he shakes his head to make his point. He raises a finger, "he was your age, wasn't he?"

I clench my jaw and nod.

Ser Jaime rests a hand on his hilt, "what was his house again?"

Before I can respond, my father blurts, "have you come to rub salt in my daughter's wounds, Kingslayer?"

I turn to my feet with wide eyes. I slowly turn to the see the fuming look on my father's face and whisper, "papa."

Ser Jaime lifts his nose. An smirk masks his face, "not at all, my Lord."

I look back at the kingsguard, not enjoying how quickly tension solidified between us.

"The king demands your presence," growls the Lannister, jaw hardened, golden mane wafting with the breeze.

Father's face is stern but he nods and raises the doll, "I will go to him after I-"

"Get that bloody Ned here now," Jaime speaks. He watches Ned lower the doll. He purses his lips while father's expression sours even more. He shrugs, "King's words, not mine."

In an instant, all the tension in father's body is gone. He looks like he's about to smile and it makes my stomach churn because I knew what that meant. I take the doll from him before anything else. He looks at me and I nod, "I'll give it to Sansa."

He stares me blankly.

"I'll try to force her affection onto the thing," I look at the doll, "maybe she'll let it chaperone us to the tourney later."

I smile at the sound of papa's low laugh.

He nods.

Ned's smile fades when he turns back to Jaime. Jaime gives a wry smile, "I'll escort the lady back to her chambers in her father's stead."

Neither of us decide to argue over it.

Father walks off, eyeing Jaime as he did, and I purse my lips when I turn to him, "I'm actually headed to the library."

"Mmm," he furrows his brows, "then I'm actually headed there too."

We begin to walk down the hall. I laugh as I look at the doll in my hands.

Jaime turns to me upon hearing this. He decides not to note on the ugly doll, "like reading, do you?"

I look at him and smile, "I do."

"You sure you don't go to that musty room to hide from everyone?"

I raise a brow, "you seem to have experience."

"Tyrion was like that," he looks forward, "except father never bought him a doll as a companion."

I look away just as Jaime looks back at me, "does the library match the fantasies of a book lover?"

I chuckle. I turn to his side again. I am unable to stop myself from thinking how dashing his grin at the moment was, "It definitely is as grand as I expected it to be. Winterfell is not blessed with nearly as many tomes."

"The younger Stark girls must not like reading as much as their big sister, considering the ugly thing in your paw," he nods at my direction.

"I'm sure one of them will find use of it," I lift the thing up and look at it. I glance upon Jaime, "oh, goodness. It actually looks quite like you."

Jaime pulls his chin back, "you clearly have issues with your eyes."

"No, it's uncanny. Yellow hair, evil intent."

"Evil intent?" Jaime stops in his tracks, "you mock and slander me," he raises brow and grips his hilt, "I should have your tongue for it."

"Mmm," I turn to him and slowly walk backward, "kingsguard takes the tongue of the Lord Hand's daughter? Sounds like a page out of my books."

He tilts his head, looking me up and down before chuckling as he turns to his feet. He lick his teeth then furrows his brows, "lend me that book once you're done."

We reach the stairwell the connected to the gardens.

I tilt my head and stop in my tracks when I see Sansa and her handmaiden.

"Sansa!" I call, waving at her. She looks at me and waves back.

I turn to Jaime and curtsy, "I have changed my mind, ser," I rise and smile, "I'll be joining my sister in the gardens instead."

Jaime nods and gives a lopsided smile, "very well, my lady. Bid my greetings to the pup. I pray she doesn't get a heart attack from your father's gift."

I chuckle, "she used to have a wolf, you know."

With that, Jaime and I part ways.

Sansa immediately grabs my arm once I am close enough, "what were you doing with Jaime?"

"Ser Jaime Lannister," I correct her, raising a brow, "I didn't know you two were familiar."

"Was he courting you?" Sansa asks as she releases my arm.

I immediately shush her, "do not speak of such things, girl. You know how quickly gossip spreads here." I hand her the doll, "he was escorting me to the library in father's stead."

"This isn't the library-"

"Clearly not."

She takes the doll, "what is this?"

"A gift from father," I grin, "a chaperone to the tourney later."

Sansa glares at me, nearly turning red as her hair. She chucks the doll to the ground and storms away.

I huff and pick up the doll, "Sansa." I follow after her, "it was a joke."

"I haven't played with dollies for years!"

"I know," I rush up to her and grab her arm, "papa bought it for you to try and ease your worries."

She grits her teeth and corrects, "father should just do his job and stop treating me like a little girl." She breaks away from me and moves past me.

"You are a little girl."

"I'm going to be queen one day," she turns to me, "and you won't be able to make fun of me then."

"Sansa, I'm not making fun of you!"

Sansa does not listen and simply walks away.

Her old handmaiden turns to me and smiles. She takes the doll from me, "I'll put this in her room."

I nod and smile.

By the time we were seated for the tourney, Sansa and I made peace by giving the doll to Arya for her to mutilate. All three of us enjoyed the bonding experience very much.

Right now, we were huddled together, pointing at the players. Sansa whispered to me who she thought handsomest and Arya exclaimed over who she thought was strongest. I alternate my attention between them, swooning with one, cheering with the other, but it doesn't take long for them to get into a clash, as always.

They begin to bicker over me and I would have just snapped at them had we not been in public. I instead silence both of them by swooning and cheering for the Hound once we spot him from afar.

Both young Starks gawk at me in disbelief and disgust.

"You can't be serious," Sansa mutters with a pale face.

Arya tilts her head, "I mean, he is pretty big."

I laugh at both of them, "can't I cheer for all the players?"

"No," they say at once.

I tear my gaze from the tourney grounds to look over my shoulder. I gaze upon the crowds, looking to see if father was already here. I mutter to no one in particular, "I wonder what's taking him so long."

"Look," Sansa, on my left, tugs at my arm, "ser Jaime is going to be riding!"

I ignore her and push Arya, who was seated to my right, behind as I crane my neck to look for farther.

Sansa leans on my back and mutters to Arya, "ser Jaime likes her."

Arya grins and looks down at me, "oooh. The lion and the wolf."

I quickly sit up and eye both of them, "shut it, you."

They giggle with each other.

"Father will not be pleased if he hears you are wanting to feed nasty rumors."

"Oh, but nasty rumors are the most intruding, wouldn't you agree, Lady Strong?"

The three of us turn to the man walking over. He stops just below where Arya was sat.

"Or should I say, Lady Stark?" he smiles and nods at me. He looks to my left, "Lady Stark," then to my right, "Lady Stark."

I offer a smile and my first name, "you can simply call me that to avoid confusion, my lord."

"Petyr Baelish," he grins, blue eyes glistening with apparent mischief.

"Lord Baelish," I nod. I squeeze both my sister's hands, prompting both to greet all the same.

Lord Baelish smiles, "I'm glad to finally meet the eldest Stark," he reaches a hand out to me, "the words spoken about your beauty do you no justice."

Both my sisters make a face when I take the man's hand and he leans in to kiss it.

He straightens up and brings his hands behind his back, "my deepest sympathies to you. Lord Harwin Strong left us too soon. I've heard a great many things about Breakbones, how he puts the strong in House Strong."

Arya side eyes Baelish before turning away to look at tourney grounds.

Sansa stares hotly at him as she clutches my arm.

"Thank you, Lord Baelish," I nod and pull a smile, "if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer not to talk about him more than this."

"Of course," he bows. He tilts his head back as he smiles. He walks off and climbs the stairs to get to his seat just behind us.

"Do you know who's going to fight first?" Arya asks as she leans on my lap. I wrap my arm over her shoulders and turn to where she was looking. I spot Jaime speaking to whom was probably his squire from afar.

"Don't worry, little one, they'll announce it," Baelish speaks from behind, making all of us turn to him then back front. When I look back, I see Jaime looking our way.

"I hope ser Jaime starts on our side," Sansa mutters as she leans into me, though her eyes are still fixed on the Lannister.

Arya turns to me and toys with my black hair, "I hope he defeats the Hound to win your affection."

Baelish makes a face upon hearing that.

I snort at the thought then shoot her a half serious face, "shut it."

"I see you girls are fond of the Kingslayer," Baelish says, making us turn back to him again.

Arya side eyes him once more. Sansa looks away, uninterested.

I respond before turning frotn, "he is a rather good swordsman. Or so I hear."

"He usually doesn't play in tourneys. He says he's too good for them," Baelish mutters, "something must have made him change his mind."

"Maybe he's trying to impress someone," Sansa replies, not bothering to look back anymore, "maybe a lady?"

I squeeze her arm when she says this. She does not even spare me a glance.

"Yes," Baelish darting his eyes below him, "perhaps."

We look to the sky when a rumble suddenly cracks.

"What's taking them so long?! It's going to rain, and then the games will be cancelled!" Arya complains.

"They-"

"They're waiting for the king," Baelish replies.

Arya makes a face. I'm the only one that turns back to the man. I smile at his already smiling face then turn to Arya, "papa's not here either. The king is probably making him do something."

Baelish chuckles under his breath, muttering lowly to himself, "papa? How sweet."

Then suddenly, truly out of nowhere, it began to rain.

My sisters and I quickly stand. I immediately grab them and we run off to the nearest place that could offer cover. We head to a tent, but the trouble was, everyone was heading there too.

The rain quickly begins to pour harder.

I do my best to cover Sansa and Arya's head, but my hands could only do so much. The three of us look up when something comes above us.

I feel someone behind me. I turn and see it's Lord Baelish. He's taken his tunic off and used it to cover us.

"Come, my Lady Starks," he speaks over the loud patter of the rain, "I will escort you back inside!"

We turn to him, his dress shirt now dripping and stuck to his form. I nod at him, "thank you, my lord."

"Don't thank me yet," he smirks, face wet with rain, "one of you may yet slip on mud."

Lord Baelish leads the way, uncaring of how wet he's gotten, and offers his arm out to us intermittently. Meanwhile, we hold up his tunic overhead and huddle under it, treading as quickly yet carefully as we can on the mucky ground.

"I do hope the rain does not ruin your fine garb, Lord Baelish," I call as Sansa and I lift our skirts up and do our best not to trip on it.

Arya was very much glad to be wearing pants, and cheerfully steps into puddles without a care in the world.

But then she slips.

Baelish manages to grab her arm before she falls. He pulls her upright and chuckles, "careful now. You wouldn't want to take your sisters down with you."

Arya let's out a hmp when she is released.

"And don't worry about my tunic," he smiles at me, "I'd rather it be ruined than have 3 ladies get sick under my watch."

Sansa gasps and grabs my arm when her heels sink in the wet dirt. I help her keep her footing and smile back at the man, "thank you, Lord Baelish."

"As I said, don't thank me yet. It's still quite a walk to the Keep," he comes to Sansa's side and helps her straighten up, "and call me Petyr."

I part my lips at the thought.

He shakes his head and chuckles, "I insist."

[earthstellar]

because it's cold and my circulation is shitty because I am old and disabled lmao, I've been thinking...

Concept: Old Bots in Cold Earth Weather

there are different kinds and degrees of cold, of course

but surely, snow/ice/damp winter weather would be not great for mechanical lifeforms

sure, we know rust is a perpetual concern to begin with

and in TFP, we know there is a hard limit to maximum safe cold exposure for bots in general

but what about old bots with more sensitive joints and cabling?

maybe their minor fuel lines suffer stiffness during cold weather similar to how vascular construction from cold can cause circulation problems in human beings (Reynauds Syndrome, anyone?)

it would also be comparable to winter damage to rubber lines and materials in cars, where the cold causes the rubber components to become more brittle and less flexible over time -- might also affect tires

in TFA, they're all by Lake Erie/Detroit. cold as hell in winter. there's no way Ratchet is having a good time. his ass is out there unable to feel his servos for a good five months out of the year.

I know this, because I used to live just outside of Erie, in Allegheny. And holy fuck, my joints hurt just thinking about it. Now I live in England, where it's a different type of cold, but it fucks up my circulation and my lungs. lol

maybe it's not just damp cold weather that can impact older bots more severely, but dry cold weather.

perhaps "breathing in" cold air through their cooling systems and fans might cause difficulty with internal temperature regulation, possibly even causing spark dysregulation in the way humans can suffer tachycardia/arrhythmia from extreme cold exposure.

TFA Ratchet is having a rough time, I'm telling you. He's a medic, he's watching his own systems carefully, but he's not having a good time. lmao

But even TFP Ratchet, who has been acclimated mostly to the desert climate of Nevada, surely would not have an easy time trying to bridge himself over to a colder climate in order to pull an injured bot out of the field or try to carry out field repairs in a blizzard etc.

Or G1 Kup, who would absolutely be feeling the cold in miserable ways what with being in charge of field drills for the younger recruits (and therefore having to be outside all day), but he would absolutely strategically call Hot Rod over so that he could warm himself up with the excess heat rolling off of the exceptionally hot-running speedster.

The longer his stories are, the longer Hot Rod has to stand there next to him. LOL

all of the old bots would refuse to acknowledge their own difficulty in cold weather, lmao -- If Ratchet drops a tool because he can't feel his digits at all, you did not see it, it is fine, yes Bumblebee does pick it up and it's totally not embarrassing to be taken out by EARTH WEATHER of all things

if he trips because his pedes have started to ice over and his fuel circulation is going to hell, you did not see it. (Everyone sees it. Bumblebee and Optimus are first to offer help, and if the snow piles up too high, Bulkhead might even jokingly offer to carry Ratchet back... Ratchet starts yelling back, which gives Optimus the opportunity to sweep in and pick him up instead. "It's not a problem, old friend. We all stumble at times.")

lots of grumbling about how the vacuum of space is far colder and they've handled that before etc. (until someone points out that space doesn't have snowfall etc.)

anyway my break's over so I gotta get back to work, apologies for any typos, I'm writing this on my phone lol :')

[azfellesquire]

Season two isn’t (fully) real, it’s a peaceful, fragile existence

The more I rewatch the show and read different theories, the more convinced I get that S2 is some sort of elaborate dream sequence or a distraction or memory alteration attempt (Neil’s chaotic angsty ineffable husbands fanfic?). But not all of it.

(This gets kind of rambly so if you want my true hook, scroll down to the Michael Sheen Staged gif.)

Let me make this perfectly clear on the outset: I don’t think all of it is a dream, and I certainly don’t think the final 15/kiss is or is going to be discounted (and not only because there would be literal riots in the street, because there absolutely would be, but also I’m putting trust in Neil and the team wholeheartedly). I think that could actually be the domino that brings them out of it. I read somewhere recently something along the lines of “something loved can never be truly forgotten” and I think that fits my theory perfectly. I’m also making no claims (yet) as to what I think is real and what I think is “enhanced”.

Also I apparently am either too far deep or cannot work the tumblr search function with any modicum of usefulness, so please link me to the posts I’m alluding to if you think it’s the right one. I will edit them in and sincerely apologize to the brilliant minds that exist outside the confines of the search function.

Now, On with the show:

You can be in charge of the biscuits

Maggie and Nina: Look, I get that recasts happen, they change the actor playing the character because of scheduling conflicts, etc. But to cast the actor/actress that is immediately recognizable from a prior interaction (whether with the characters or the audience) is not something you see. FFS Maggie DIED in S1, and Nina was pivotal (maybe too strong a word, but enough to be memorable surely) to the storyline. It’s like someone said “Hey, they’ll work, bring em in, no I don’t care that they were in S1. It’ll be a test of how well our facade is working. If they (A&C) notice, then the gig is up and we’ll know it.”

Also why in the world is the owner of a coffee shop offering Eccles cakes to calm down, when camomile tea is right there? (Resists the urge to go off on a tangent on how Eccles cakes were used to celebrate the “Eccles wakes” at the feast of St. Mary (yes that Mary) and how that ties into the second coming plot.) Do Eccles cakes count as biscuits? Ugh another thought for another day I suppose.

It has come to my attention during writing that Shax is the same actress as Madame Tracy. I have less of an affront to this knowledge since I’m 2 months deep and countless rewatches in and only just noticed. But I’m going to pop it in this header anyway. Are you really trying to tell me that a show that apparently has demon entrances happening precisely on the 6s really didn’t think these choices out very deliberately? (Edit 3: https://www.tumblr.com/noneorother/735823422626709504/the-secret-timeline-inside-of-good-omens-season-2 JFC why can I never find the blogs when I want to insert them? It was a breakdown about how all of the demon entrances happen at a 00:00 that ends in a 6.)

Yours very faithfully, Maggie

Text to mail disconnect: There’s been a theory pop up (at the time one writing this at least (edit 2: https://www.tumblr.com/azariah-z-fell/743434274903048192/it-is-extra-weird-because-it-is-on-the-record) that Maggie actually texted Aziraphale her request to talk, and it was magically translated into a physical form, and the spelling error (that so many people are shouting DEMON at) was just an autocorrect typo. But, surely Maggie would know he doesn’t text if she knew him for several years at least. We’ve never seen either of our boys text, only call. Seems like someone doesn’t know how phones work, but wanted to get the message received? See also: currency, below.

You ever think, what’s the point?

Numerous people have pointed out the same obvious background people. There are theories about the guy in the Hawaiian shirt being the second coming or something similar. I wonder if it’s some sort of play on a badly executed attempt to make Wickber Street seem “normal” in an alternate reality, an elaborate distraction, but they have to keep using the same character models because their imagination is just slightly better than Shadwells’ (Oh gfdi how did I miss Mrs. sandwich right there). I’m not saying we haven’t done a “oh oops silly me I forgot something” but that isn’t usually done in the middle of a sidewalk. When Aziraphale is initially talking to Jim with the blanket, there’s a guy just chugging his arms outside the window, not walking. Another one in E3 when Shax show up outside the shop, a guy in an orange sweatshirt passes in the background, then passes again, and not close enough in time/area to just be the continuation of the walk. Especially in the early episodes, there are veritable conveyer belts of people, straight lines, no trying to pass, etc. I’m trying to look at the background in S1 and while there are still tons of people, the background is… livelier. People passing, shoving past, actually going places.

“I’m looking at the statue of Gabriel.” “Oh, good job?”

Aziraphale basically learns fuck-all when he makes the trip to Edinburgh. Granted, I do believe most of that was to make the Bentley “our car”, but so many things are out of character. The no drink, the over-the-top “investigation” (as awkward as he is, Aziraphale knows how to act more normally than that with humans), the background on the drive up there…

All the others were taken (random collective thoughts)

Somehow ALL the businesses on the street are different from Season 1?

A normal person would have moved out of the rain instead of just lolling there letting raid splatter their glasses, yeah? (As a person with glasses I can confirm).

“We have all the hosts of hell searching for him” cue Crowley looking around like then why the fuck are there still demons around me?

The cross disappearing from the Gabriel statue between shots.

“I’m a bit out of miracles” and “that’s not how miracles work” from the guy who got written up for too many frivolous miracles.

I have here a sixpence and a farthing There’s always money in the banana stand

The lack of (accurate?) paid transactions seems like whoever is pulling the strings has no concept of earthly money and how it’s supposed to work, just that it exists. Crowley and Aziraphale talk bluntly about poverty and know that money is needed and used in current society (“Give her the money, Angel”, Rome, Globe Theatre, 1941 magic shop, etc.). Could be a “let’s not get lost in the trivialities” thing but it does strike me as odd. Caveat: Aziraphale forgiving the rent doesn’t quite fit, but cost of the record is obscenely low.

But this does give me hope about the 3rd 1941 flashback, because they were using money accurately there, which hopefully means the flashbacks and memories aren’t being altered, just “present day”.

We’re real people

One of the overarching themes in Season 2 (and S1 now I think of it) is “stop interfering in the lives of other people”. Maggie and Nina, Job, Elspeth, the entire dance party, Warlock, the book of prophecy. It would be a shame if someone were to make sure I failed to be messing about in their own lives.

I had brothers, you don’t scare me

Something happened just before Maggie told them to “Come in here and say that to my face.” Another demonic turn potential here, but also kind of like someone’s saying “FFS get on with the plot”.

The book of love has music in it

This post https://www.tumblr.com/noneorother/731977308306636800/all-the-music-you-didnt-hear-the-good-omens (finally, one I can find!) popped up, and there’s another one that purports to have noticed that there’s music lines missing from the opening sequence (edit 1: Found it!: https://www.tumblr.com/dadesu/726651737165938688/anyone-noticed-the-missing-half-bar-in-good-omens ). Possibly Clueing us in that there’s something that’s missing elsewhere (I mean obviously, that’s the whole point of this season, is it not?).

So where do we go from here?

As much as I’d love to say “Alright so the kiss breaks the spell whoever was put over them because of ✨the power of love✨, the ruse will be revealed, and they’re not talking because they don’t have to”

I don’t know, my thoughts are just the overarching patterns I’ve noticed over many, many rewatches and probably reading a few too many magic trick theories and/or fanfics. I don’t intentionally make my theory posts open-ended, but in the end that’s the fun of it. Nothing has to be mutually exclusive (yes I’m referencing my “Is Crowley already the new Supreme Archangel” post, I think I’m allowed that much). I’m happy to be proven wrong, and probably will be.

Lots of things are wrong right now

But I will leave you with one parting thought: Crowley knows. He knows there’s furniture missing. (That’s why he keeps just tossing things everywhere, because he know it doesn’t matter.)

And he. Does not. Care. For it.

How many theories that I myself hate can I dig into?

I’m a demon, I lied:

[twilightbuttxrflies]

A garden with butterflies and flowers...where you walk in peace.

🦋 About me

Ray, Any prns, Minor.

Aroace

Mostly fem readers, sorry!

I really like the color purple <3

I love silly cross ships

Note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any typos or incorrect grammar.

Also, don't post my work on any other platform without my permission.

Rules, and what I will and will not write for.

rules for me and the blog in general:

Please don't expect to have your request immediately done, I have a life outside of this interest and I'm busy.

No fighting in the comments.

No homophobia, transphobia, racism, etc.

Don't joke with me about nsfw if we aren't close, I don't like personal nsfw jokes.

What I will and will not write about:

Will:

Headcanons

One-shots

Au's

Your own prompts

Fluff

Angst

LGBTQIA+

X readers

Canon x canon

Will not:

Sensitive topics

Nsfw (I'm not uncomfortable with it, I'm just not good at writing it).

Racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.

I probably won't write for any characters I dislike, since I wouldn't know how to write them anyway. Sorry! 🙉

Animes and fandoms that I'll probably write for.

Animes:

Boku no hero academia

Haikyuu

One piece

Demon slayer

Wind breaker (probably...)

Games:

Genshin impact

Harry Potter ? (eugh 😭😭😭)

Honkai star rail

Twisted Wonderland

Other possible fandoms:

You can probably just request for a certain fandom, and I'll see if I know it enough to be confident to write about it.

Credit(s):

The dividers are from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more !! Her dividers are so cute!!

[hp-hcs]

Not really a request but holy crap your nb blaise fic was absolutely amazing hell yeah ill integrate that into my belief system. Do you have any other hcs about that bc it's super cool

(more) nonbinary! blaise zabini headcanons — a (sort of) part two to my fic uniforms

there’s a lot, so i’ve divided them up into sections and subsections

also i’m tired and it’s late if there are any typos shhh no there aren’t

~ 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 ~

they’re better at makeup than you, hands down

isn’t blaise like canonically (aka, the actor) 6’3”? well anyways, they wear heels. they don’t need them, but they own six inch stilettos and won’t miss a step. absolutely strutting on the moving stairs while everyone watches like “how the fuck—”

(if you ask why they wear them, their answer will always be “so i can step on men, duh”)

~ ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 ~

• mrs. zabini •

their mom is hella supportive!!!

one of her definitely-not-murdered ex-husbands mysteriously went missing after making some joke at blaise’s expense

no, mr. auror, i haven’t a clue how my husband ended up at the bottom of the black lake with the word ‘transphobe’ magically carved into his forehead what that’s crazy

• slytherin squad™️ •

draco: shouts “i knew it!!!!” and runs off to go get his money from whoever he bet against

theo: could not give less of a fuck. i kinda hc theo as being fluid or at least apathetic to their own gender, so it’s all love & support over here!!

mattheo: needs it explained a couple times, but once he gets it, he never messes up their pronouns and will fight any bitch who does

pansy: absolute queen. she will d r a g them to diagon alley to go shopping with her and will buy them their first personal makeup palette. we stan.

enzo: already knew. knew like, two years ago. when they come out, he’s just like, “oh!! i’m so happy you finally figured it out!! i’ve been waiting for you to say something for ages!!!!”

• adults •

dumbledick: completely ignores their pronouns bc all slytherins are evil and he’s definitely not biased or anything

snape: is an asshole about it.

voldemort: would be like 🧍‍♂️“ok but ur still one of my death eaters right?”

narcissa: does that one fake polite smile and nod that every white mom is capable of. “how lovely, dear.”

bellatrix: man, bitch is crazy. who even knows

tonks: AGGRESSIVELY supportive

• golden trio (& co.) •

harry: gets into an argument with the slytherins and calls blaise “he”. draco’s ready to beat his ass, but blaise just calmly explains their gender identity and harry apologizes, then goes back to arguing with them, ✨respectfully✨.

ron: (what no i’m definitely not a blairon shipper shut up) immediately switches to strictly gender-neutral language and goes out of his way to ask them what terms/compliments/etc they’re comfortable being called.

hermione: hot take! i hc her as a closeted lesbian with internalized homophobia, and i think she’d try to make an argument about “bUt ThEy iS pLuRaL”.

neville: cutie pie!! he just nods and is like “okay! 🥹🌱”

ginny: doesn’t give a fuck. blaise is on the slytherin quidditch team, and damn if you think she isn’t going to do everything in her power to continue trying to beat them

luna: sagely nods like it was obvious. “oh, the nargles already told me.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

comments are always appreciated!! the author thrives off encouragement, like a toddler being given a gold star sticker!!!

[raz-writes-the-thing]

hey pookie ❤️ I’m writing to you delusionally tired so i apologize for any typos but i thought about team free will (+ gabe) and adopting a pet?? like what pet each of them would choose (fish dad cas!!!) and how they’d react to you asking for one etc etc anyways I know you mentioned being stressed out :( but maybe if you could just write headcanons for that or something? if not that’s perfectly fine sorry for the long ask and the previous mixup x

-🥐

oh my god this is- yes okay

thoughts below the cut!

Dean

Having been made an honorary dog, he cannot go past a pretty puppy.

He feels like he's able to understand their needs a lot better, and he just prefers dogs to most other pets.

Though he has definitely thought about getting a fish tank in his room before.

If you ask for a dog though? He's grumbling, he's mumbling, he's complaining the whole way there and then two weeks later the bastard has taken the dog completely off you basically.

I don't think he'd get into the outfits things for dogs though, the furthest he'd get would be, like, neckerchiefs.

Sam

Listen, we all know Sam is a dog fan, but you know what else?

Sam wants a parrot. A bird he can train, feed and spend time with.

He doesn't want to get one in the bunker because there's no fresh air and not enough sunlight for one, but boy oh boy does he fantasise about a pretty bird.

If you ask for a bird he's going to launch into research to find out exactly what they need, how much space, the best food brands- everything.

He definitely keeps your secret that you both went in Baby to get it. If Dean ever found out he would blow his top.

Cas

I 100% agree on the fish thing.

Cas loves fish. He loves watching fish, feeding fish- he loves setting up the tank and making it look all aesthetically pleasing.

He can and will spend hours on hours on hours just sitting there watching the fish swim around.

He says they help him feel closer to God, and sometimes a little less lonely when he needs that comfort.

If you want to get fish, he will go and get one for you no questions asked. You may need to get him to hold off until after you've set the tank up, though.

Jack

Jack likes things that crawl. He likes bugs, spiders, scorpions, crabs. Anything that you wouldn't want in your hand.

He has an entire wall worth of tanks, terrariums, and containers filled with his little critters. Also, yes, he holds them, and no, he doesn't understand why you hate it.

It was trial and error with the food for all these bugs, he tried to do the research but it took too long and so there were a few deaths by ice cream for some roaches before he figured out their proper diets (with your help, too).

If you tell him you want a pet, he will want to help, but will also be clueless. Maybe don't leave the puppy alone with him until he knows what he's doing haha

Gabriel

Gabe's dream pet doesn't exist. Like, physically, does not exist. Mans wants a pet like him that can change shape at will.

Mans would love a tiger though, let's be real. Or if not a tiger- a crocodile or something equally ridiculous.

You have to tell him that if the pet eats you, there's no getting you back and that's the only thing that ends up changing his mind.

He can tolerate cats, though. If you have a cat he will teasingly torment the poor thing.

By that, I mean, conjuring ridiculous outfits for the baby or disappearing and reappearing their food once or twice just to confuse them.

[pttucker]

She got royally irritated and began following after this fool's comments. She even clicked on 'downvote' too. Like a bewitched person, Han Sooyoung read only Kim Dokja's comments and not the novel itself. – Will Jihye finally awaken next chapter? – Author-nim! I've discovered a typo on page 7! With my lacking opinion, I think the spelling here should be… Ah, I looked into it and it's actually my mistake. My apologies. I've learned something new today. – Please, just smack that fool Joonghyuk-ie in the back of his head… This guy, he never once missed writing a comment on all those thousands of chapters. And every single one contained understanding and love for the world created by this author. ⸢Han Sooyoung was envious of that.⸥ She believed that there was simply no way anyone would be reading a novel as bad as this, that it had to be the author himself busy blowing his own trumpet. She thought that the author had created two separate IDs and wrote the novel with one while with the other one, wrote all those comments and uploaded recommendations, too. – Isn't recommending one's own work prohibited? ⸢Just like how Yoo Joonghyuk was an imagined character to Kim Dokja, Kim Dokja was exactly like that to Han Sooyoung.⸥ She thought that such a person wouldn't be real, but… That very person within the texts was standing right before Han Sooyoung's eyes.

Unexpected Sooyoung & Dokja backstory?!! 👀

Okay, so Dokja has said before that he totally called out Sooyoung for plagiarism so that's not the surprising part, but it's so Sooyoung to just angrily start stalking him afterwards and assume that he must be the author in disguise because who could actually like that drivel?

...While at the same time being envious that TWSA had such a loving and dedicated reader.

Also this is totally trying to emphasize that Sooyoung can't be the author of TWSA, and I know that it doesn't really make sense for her to think he was the author while being the author, but it, perhaps illogically, makes me actually even more convinced that she is the author of TWSA?

Because what it says is that this was her first encounter with him, not her first encounter with TWSA, she'd read TWSA before. And it goes out of its way to mention once again that she lost half her memories to her first avatar so I'm wondering if things have gotten twisted in her head.

She lost a portion of her memories while creating avatars and she couldn't clearly remember what happened back then. What was certain, though, was that she had indeed read the novel called the 'Ways of Survival'.

Mmmhmmm. Does this or does this not sound like Asuka Ren and Peace Land? Especially with the way she's described Predictive Plagiarism, looking at various tropes and common themes, etc. Maybe she filled in the holes in her memory with what she thinks should be there? She assumes that she would assume that Dokja is the author?

.

.

Though...

If I were to stick with my original theory that Dokja is the author...

Sooyoung could be right.

"Dokja" could be a fake account made up not necessarily to boost the comments or popularity, but to perhaps help the author (aka Dokja) figure out what to write next? Sort of like programmers with the rubber duck. Or maybe just the account of a guy with no friends who loves one particular story more than anything basically pretending to be his own fan/friend because there's no one else? Or maybe it did originally start out as a means to boost the novel's popularity by pretending to be a big fan but when everyone abandoned it he couldn't bring himself to stop because he really does love TWSA?

And now the author, aka Dokja, has written himself into the story because he couldn't figure out how to end it and/or because he was literally writing the story just for himself anyway. I mean, we literally just had that speech from Uriel about how a story doesn't have to be for someone else, and also we have Dokja realizing now that this is their (his) story and their (his) epilogue.

And it'd fit with my idea that Oldest Dream is Dokja too. I've already gone into my theories that Dokja could be Oldest Dream's avatar (and thus Dokja wouldn't have all of Oldest Dream's memories, only what was given to him) and that could be why Sooyoung is emphasizing that particular tidbit about avatar memories once again.

And Oldest Dream created this specific worldline and Oldest Dream gave Joonghyuk his stigma. The stigma that not only lets Dokja's favorite character that he loves live forever, lets his favorite novel go on forever, but also is the main point of the story. They kinda got into this a little bit with Joonghyuk, but basically Joonghyuk is a Regressor because the story required a Regressor. That was the plot. So literally you could say that the author gave him the stigma, not his sponsor.

The fact that Dokja is a "real person" standing right in front of her right now means nothing. Joonghyuk is literally standing right next to him.

.

.

UGHHHHHHHHH I just gave up my theory that Dokja is the author but now I'm so torn!!!!!! They both make sense!

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Why must you torment me, ORV???????

I guess if I have to pick which theory I'm favoring atm I'm gonna stick with the idea that Sooyoung is the author for overall thematic purposes.

Joonghyuk, Dokja, Sooyoung.

Secretive Plotter, Oldest Dream, The Author.

Character, Reader, Writer.

[yinora-evergreen]

Requests + rules (requests are: CLOSED)

hey everyone!! this is a more updated version of my requests page, aka i made some changes and by now, i'm a bit more experienced with writing, so yeah! that's pretty much all <3

so far ill write for characters from:

buffyverse [buffy the vampire slayer + angel]

dnd honor among thieves

genshin impact

one piece [live action]

voltron legendary defender [only paladins + allura]

obey me

spider verse

agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

heartstopper

the witcher

avatar the last airbender

legend of korra

Percy Jackson show

fallout tv show

Dead Boy Detectives

Supernatural (season 1-8. will update the further i get)

ghostbusters afterlife

ghostbusters frozen empire

Deadpool

Deadpool & Wolverine

Arcane

bayverse tmnt

tmnt 2012

rottmnt

Agatha All Along

Shazam! (+shazam! fury of the gods)

there are more though its late and i cant think of them right now, but if anyone would like to request anything id love to give it a try.

you can also request for anything that isn't on here if you want since i might be able to write for it anyway, if that makes sense.

what i mean is that even though there is a chance that i cant/wont write for it, there is also a chance that i will so dont be afraid to ask!

i would also like to add that:

english is not my first language so if there are any typos or anything you can always let me know

im a beginner in writing fanfic however i really want to get better at it, so if you do have even a vague idea for a request or a trope or au id love to try writing for it

i mainly want to write fluff, id also like to write angst with a fluffy ending or just try out angst in general [i know the first fic i posted here is angst but still-]

i don't mind writing things that are a little darker (for example things like traumatic events) though only a vague description of having been through it, I WILL NOT write it "currently" happening in the fic. there are a few small exceptions, but not many

fics based on songs [or specific parts of lyrics]

poly, or any kind of queer relationship

pregnancy/implied pregnancy

suggestive on that note, here's what i WON'T write (a few will be repeated from the list of what i will write, so apologies for that if it annoys you):

incest

pedophilia

full on smut

graphic fighting scenes (i suck at writing them when i'm not in the mood T.T)

sexual assault (unless it's a vague memory/trauma for a character, for example when a character talks to reader abt why reader has been hesitant for touch and its just a heartfelt moment of opening up to eachother about what happened if that makes sense) i can write for any reader [gn, fem, male, nonbinary, etc]

ofcourse if anyone has any tips or any feedback on any future fics then please do let me know! im open for suggestions to improve my writing skills.

anyway, thats all for now, have a great day!

[maximuswolf]

Should publishers be allowed to retain the rights to dormant or cancelled IP?

Should publishers be allowed to retain the rights to dormant or cancelled IP? Just as the topic suggests, do you believe massive publishers should be allowed to retain the rights to IPs that they refuse to acknowledge or choose to cancel?The most recent examples that come to mind for me are Embracer cancelling Timesplitters and Deus Ex. The publisher made a choice to shut down development on these two titles despite having been in development for a significant amount of time and it doesn't seem right that they should be forced to kill all of the work that they've dedicated so much of their time to and the fans are massively anticipating. I don't know how it would work in legalese, but I feel like any 3rd-party license that isn't a major IP created by that publisher directly that gets cancelled should automatically be given the right to fight for a chance to survive with another publisher. This is how most 3rd-party titles used to operate back in the day, anyway, before publishers started to buy up every developer they could get their hands on. Corporate ownership might be a safer alternative to negotiating publishing deals with every title, but massive IPS like these deserve the right to survive despite one publishers ignorant decisions.How do you feel IP ownership should be handled by the industry? How do you feel landmark IPs like Deus Ex, Timesplitters, StarCraft, Banjo Kazooie, etc... should be handled in events where the IP is neglected despite community or developer persistence?Edit: Apologies if this comes off as rambling or typo-laden. English IS my first language, but I've had a few too many drinks and my phone's Swype filter hates me. Submitted September 27, 2024 at 08:00PM by FootFetish0-3 https://ift.tt/S0ZOduK via /r/gaming

[catreginae]

what made you start writing fics and what are some of your all time favorites? :)

I can't remember what made me start because I was in early high school, I think? That's probably a bit over a decade ago. Obviously, not all of it is here. I want to say that anime probably helped, because that's when I would have started looking googling shows, finding fanart and fanfic, etc.

Favourite of all time is hard because that's a lot of fandoms but nothing is really coming to mind right now, but here are some LU recommendations: Basically all the Warriors fanfics written by Din_Harlow on AO3! I think Dusks Falls or Hypothermia in particular are in my favourites by them.

Everybody should go read the Disabled Warriors AU written by @fiercedeity-decendent-valora on tumblr. It's based on an idea I posted about and I think they did a really good job developing it and making Warriors struggle to reorient himself in a life that's familiar but vastly different.

Actually, everybody should go read the fanfics that brought the 3am thoughts I had to life: Another Time by ajsci_co (I think they're on tumblr too but I don't ping the wrong person) and Bridges on the River of Time (again by @fiercedeity-decendent-valora).

I like a lot of the Fierce Dadity fics written by @silvercaptain24 on her AO3. If you like Warriors getting himself into trouble and somebody reminding him that he deserves to be taken care of too, Silver's got you.

And here are some of my recent bookmarks:

Sentiment by @arecaceae175, where Time and Warriors talk about their emotions after an heated exchange. I also really like Of Blood and Brotherhood by the same author.

Walk it Off by CluelessMoose, where Warriors gets sick and it's fine for a bit until it's not. Sometimes when I'm sick, especially with a cough, I read this because mood.

Demons by Adrif_in_Thyme who I think is also on tumblr because the AO3 looks mighty familiar... ANYWAY, this is a Warriors gets captured by The Shadow fic and things don't go well. I really liked the premise.

AND THERE ARE MORE but I need to sleep soon and I am atrocious at booking things, so I would have to go find them. I'm too tired for that.

Anyhow, that's a good starting list I think, so have fun with that. Apologies for typos, I am not really rereading anything I am saying right now.

nobody say that there are some obvious themes i like.

[ditizygirl]

to the anon who said che was sexualizing regressors here's a regressor + system response. apologies if this is long I just genuinely dont understand why some of ya'll just can't accept your TQ's are harmful LUL. 1. just because your regression is SFW does NOT mean the people around you will keep it SFW. DDLG blogs + supporters do not care if you are SFW they will sexualize literally anything. The point che is getting to at least trying to make is YOU as a blog owner should be careful having that as your soul identity. It's honestly quite unsafe to regress online esp if you can not think clearly like I do when regressed. Regression can cause gaps in ones understanding and DDLG / MDLB (Etc) people will abuse that fact. Not once was che trying saying "oh yeah any regressor who uses a TQ = a DDLG supporter / person." che was saying you using that typing quirk will likely result in the wrong type of people interacting with you. 2. You completely just ignored the fact the typing quirk is extremely ableist + racist because almost every single one of the regressors who uses them do not translate it. Not only that many of these typing quirks such as stuttering typing quirks are extremely offense to those who have studders, speech impediments and can even be racist to those learning english and who mispronouce different sounds. Common Examples are ; mix up certain sounds such as "i" and "r" or "w" and "v". I personally had to go through so years of speech therapy because I could not say my Rs, S' or some Ls. 3. Typing quirks at the end of the day voluntary and you can actively type normally because you have to choose to type like the 3 replacing the e or replacing the r with w. it's one thing to type fast and have mess ups or typos but again typing quirks you actively choose to partake in. IRL you do not write like that or if you do its again forced because most of the population learned to type the same way you write. Anyways all typing quirks are ugly inaccessible even if they are "small".

.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Yo! I cannot get enough of dad!dream! Can you write something with reader and Morpheus bonding by her taking him around and showing him what she did while he was trapped and Morpheus lamenting about being gone for so long and missing his child’s (because he absolutely accepts that that is his kid. No ands ifs or buts) milestones.oh! Maybe a scene where he shows her around the dreaming while he’s repairing it and she gets to see what it looks like it it’s full glory!

Star Collector

Dream of the Endless x Fae!Reader (tho tis mostly Dream & his fae!baby girl)

Summary: Your daughter grew up loving flowers. One day, a strange man comes to her whist she was playing in the garden, and she immediately offers him some buds from her collection.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, fae!mother & daughter, girl dad!dream, CUPCAKE BABY GIRL!daughter, fluff, angst?, typos, etc.

A/N: lol u sent this before i even got back to you. update: IM FINALY GETTING BACK TO YOU. I THINK IM IN A DAD!DREAM STREAK. I had a little problem with continuity and feasibility of the kid, well, being a child after dream was trapped for a nearly a century, so i made them fae! hope you dont mind. anyway, i hope you like it, and i hope it was worth the wait my love love love Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

The sky was a lilac and orange color today. The sun was lowly kissing the mountain ranges from across our domain. The dusk left a pinkish haze in its wake. The fireflies were at the start of their debut.

The balmy breeze embraced my daughter as sweetly as I would as she gathered all the flowers in our front lawn to her heart's content.

And I had been in the middle of a chore when I felt a ripple of dread rush through me. The spoon in one hand and the jar of honey in the other quickly left my grips as I ripped my chiffon skirt up and dashed over to the open door by my kitchen. I had a complete view of my baby mere moments ago. Now, she was not at all eye shot.

So as I ran outside, my heart raced; my bare feet galloped across the grass and dirt of the garden.

Then all at once, the air was stolen from my lungs and my movements come to an abrupt halt. He stood there, a tall, dark figure, starkly contrasting the fauna and the tiny, bright baby next to him.

Her voice was small and soft, and her hair tie was loose around her hair. She raises a flower bud and grins from ear to ear.

He bends down and takes the flower bud from her, muttering a gracious thank you.

When he turns to me, a shiver runs down my spine.

I am in utter disbelief. I only realize it was indeed real after he walks over to me and says my name.

I gasp for air, "Dream?"

The next moment, I am in his arms, embracing him tightly.

"You came back to us," I speak against his chest, eyes water.

He presses a kiss on the side on the top of my head, "I apologize I did not come sooner."

I pull away from him shaking my head. I take his face in my hands, grunting softly when I feel the stickiness of the honey in my fingers. I retreat my hands, as not to spread the thing on his cheek, but he presses his hands atop mine, holding me back. His palm covers the back of my hand as he pushes my hold back on him. He sighs at the contact.

My lips quiver at the sight of him. The next moment, I pull him into a kiss, still reeling from the fact he was here and that I could do this.

I wonder if it was me, him, or the time between us, but it felt different. The feel of his lips were both longing and loving but there was feel to it that I could not identify.

When we break away, I take his arm and lead him back to the girl. I look at her then look at him, smiling as I did, "she is a collector, my lord. She has only bore witness to 4 planetary alignments and yet she knows more flowers than I."

I turn to him, wondering if he remembered that that was how our folk counted our age, and that I meant the alignment of the five planets, which, on the basis of other creatures, happened every 19 years.

I do not get to respond or note on how he gulps at my words.

It was blistering reminder that it has been that long.

Dream nods, "she has named many flowers to me," he mutters and smiles, "she is as enchanting as her mother."

I chuckle and lean into him, "but she is as stubborn as her father."

He turns to me furrows his brows at this.

I release his arm with a chuckle and crouch down, beckoning the child over. I call out her name and she turns to me idly. "Come, my love," I wave my hands toward me.

She turns back to her flowers and continues to put them into her basket.

I let out a soft sound and stand. I turn to Dream, "the spitting image, as you see."

Dream's expression hardens. He is not stubborn. He furrows his brows tighter and looks down at the child, calling her name out with authority, making her turn to him. She stills as she looks up at the man, who says, "your mother is calling for you."

She merely blinks at him.

I laugh, shaking my head. I crouch down and lean on my knees. I call out to her again, beckoning her over in a higher pitch, and at last, she finally comes over, although visibly reluctant.

I laugh at her and take her into my arms, peppering her cheeks with kisses as I do so. She coils up and giggles and grins because of this.

Dream watches the exchange and feels his chest tighten.

I turn to him with a smile then back to the child, "my sweetling," I mutter to her, "do you know who this is?"

We turn to Dream at the same time. When I turn back to her, she purses her lips and looks with her wide eyes. She turns back to me, "sandman."

I break into a laugh and nod at her, "yes, my bright star. That is the sandman. He commands dreams."

She turns back to him and leans into me, casually observing the man.

I rock her in my arms and kiss her head, "that's your father, my love. You asked me before why you didn't have a father-"

Dream clenches his jaw.

"-I said you did-"

Because she does.

"-and this is him, darling," I explained.

Immediately, the girl perks, eyes widening even more than they already were. She mutters questioningly, then points, "sandman?"

I nod at her words, "yes, child, sandman is your father."

"Father?" she repeats incredulously, "he is my father?"

Dream feels as though he was kicked in the teeth.

My baby turns to me and whispers, "father?"

I give a sad smile and nod, "yes, baby. Father."

She turns to him and points, "you.... father?"

I turn back to Dream with a smile that is quickly stunted when I see the expression on his face. Dream looks like he was devoid of all color, more so this moment than a while ago.

I release a breath, rocking my daughter in my arms, "my dear, do you want to go to your father?"

The girl turns to me then back to him. She does not speak and only reaches out both her hands to Dream.

Dream instantly stiffens, visibly taken aback by the eagerness of the child. Yet not a second too late, he reaches out for her and takes her in his arms. In that moment, I swear I saw his being twinkle as she leaned into him.

The girl was so little and soft against him. He felt the need to hold his breath, as somehow the act would have been offensive to her. He would never do anything to offend her. It had been so long since he had held something so... so frail, so tender, so delicate in his arms. The moment she placed her clammy palm against his chin, he decided he would die for her. The moment she blinked at him then smiled, his insides scorched with a familiar protectiveness; he would never let anything happen to this creature so long as he was.

"Father," she mumbles through upturned lips. There was apparent splendor in her eyes. He would willingly be put through imprisonment again if only it ascertained that she never loses this gleam.

She smiles from ear to ear, "I love you."

Dream's soul is crushed.

No. He will never be imprisoned again. The thought of never beholding the sight of her sparkling face is the worst punishment anyone could ever muster.

Dream opens his mouth, wanting nothing more than to repeat and reassure his love that he, in fact, loved her too, but somehow, it did not feel right. It felt out of place, it felt cheap. He did not feel worthy to repay her affections when he knew his words were not nearly as genuine as hers. For he was jaded and cynical and so utterly lost.

He is glad that she leans into him, holding him in a tight embrace. He did not have to speak anything it seems

The sight of the father-daughter duo brought tears to my eyes.

I watched as Dream rubbed her back and tightened his hold on her form.

He releases a breath and mutters lowly, "would you like to see my collection, daughter?"

Immediately, his daughte pulls back and perks up. Her lashes flutter in intrigue, "do you-" excited heave, "do you collect flowers?!"

Dream presses his lips into a smile and shakes his head, "I collect stars."

The gasp that leaves her is one of astounded enchantment, "y-you WHAT?!" The girl turns to me with eyes the size as saucers, "mother! HE COLECTS STARS!"

I return her expression with shocked amusement.

Dream brushes her hair back, "I keep them in my coat."

The girl immediately turns to his coat, watching it so intently.

"If you like, I will give them all to you."

She does not hesitate and readily nods in excitement, "I DO, I DO, IDO, IDO, IDOIDOIDO!"

Dream laughs, "then, I say, all the stars in the sky are yours, my love," he announces softly, "however... I am embarrassed to admit, I have just regained my strength. I have yet to finish rebuilding my domain, so I cannot call the heavenly bodies and introduce you as their master for I have nowhere to invite them."

She stays silent upon hearing that. Then after a moment, she looks up at him, "we can invite them to here."

Dream presses his lips into a smile, "a generous offer."

"I can show them my flowers!"

I coo at the girl's sentiment.

"My daughter, bringing a star to the land of the Fae would be unwise," he gently explains, "instead, I will hasten my reconstruction of the Dreaming and bring you there promptly after."

She raises her hand, "I like dreaming!"

He is momentarily taken aback by this. Dream knows well the tide and currents of a child's mind, ever-changing and wild. Their words at times were here then there. It similar to that of dreams. And yet hearing this from his child was similar to having your heart clenched.

"I am honored by you," he adjusts her hold on her, "... would you like to watch me rebuild our Dreaming then?"

She opens her mouth then turns to me. I offer her a smile and nod instantly. She turns back to him and blinks slowly. She hums before she speaks, "I help mother cook, so I help father re-bill our dreaming."

Dream feels those words tug at the very fibre of his being. He gives the faintest of retorts, for he is afraid he would break if he spoke any louder, "thank you."

[mrbexwrites]

Thoughts on Beta Readers

Apologies in advance if this turns into a bit of a ramble; I've had a lot of thoughts in my head, and I needed to somewhere to formulate them into a coherent stream.

I made this writblr page about a year ago after realising that I have written loads of stories, but never really thought about sharing them. I still don't know what I'm ultimately going to do with any of them- I don't think I have the skills/fortitude to go through Trad or Indie pub, nor the stamina and/or headspace for self-pub and trying to be my own hype/marketing person just doesn't appeal to me.

I like the writing part of writing; not so much anything else, as anyone who has seen any of my other posts will attest to! I think in just about every post I've ever published, it's just me grumbling about editing!

Anyway- sorry, I digress (in my defense, I did say that this would be a rambling post, so you only have yourself to blame if you've made it this far into my diatribe!). I've only been brave enough to share snippets of my WIPs through tag games, and everyone who had liked, commented or reblogged something- has given me that little dopamine spike and helped me find some courage to share my work.

I put out a call for beta readers, and some amazing people have taken the time and effort to read something that I've written.

I'm not a confident person, and I really worried that my story was garbage. I think I've stared at the documents so many times, that I could no longer see the woods from the trees. There were bits that I wasn't happy with, but couldn't figure out why. I was worried that I didn't have enough research under my belt to handle sentitive topics. Some sections felt too heavy, or dull. I found my own writing boring, my characters bland, scenes didn't gel, action felt disjointed etc etc.

Basically, I was in a bit of a tailspin, or a slump, a funk...and I didn't know how to dig myself out of the hole that I'd managed to clamber into. Normally, when I finish a WIP, it's done, and I don't do anything with it. It just stays in my docs folder, and backed up to an external hard-drive.

Rather than just continuing to stare at a document for hours, wondering what to do, I found my beta readers, and sent my first draft over to them (hoping that I'd managed to find all typos- lol, that didn't happen. Typos still managed to escape me -_-' )

I've seen several posts on my dash from folk complaining about interaction and the writblr community. My posts don't get a lot of engagement, which is fine (not trying to join a pity party- just stating facts!) but I've found that the interaction that I do have from followers, mutual or random folk has been really meaningful.

I've gone from dreading sharing my work, to being excited to post snippets, and being tagged in games, getting to see what everyone else has been working on. (I appreciate that I'm a bit of a hypocrite, as I'm not very good at engaging with others on this site- I worry about coming across as a complete weirdo creep, and I struggle to find new ways of saying 'omg, I love this, show me more' in the tags! Or to think of asks to send, even though several people diligently send me asks every week! I'm trying to get better, I promise!)

Sorry- rambling again. I just...adklsdfgskhdfh

I'm honestly gobsmacked by the effort that my beta readers put into my WIP, and the kind comments, feedback and suggestions that they've made. I genuinely believed that I would get ' meh, it was okay' in the best scenario that I'd worked out in my head. Their engagement and feedback has been so helpful and I appreciate it so much.

It's helped me identify the sticking points that I was having, why I was unhappy with some scenes, characters etc etc. They have really helped me take that step back, and re-evaluate things, rather than just staring at the screen and feeling like a deer in the headlights. I was so worried/scared about sharing an entire WIP, but it's been worth it.

So, if anyone is in the same boat as me- scared to take the plunge- dip your toe in the water. Share snippets, work up to finding a beta reader or two, get outside input, rather than just sitting and staring trying to work it out on your own.

There are a lot of people out there willing to share their knowledge, and help you get the most out of your story.

Special thank you to @sam-glade and @at-thezenith for taking the time to give me such thorough feedback. I honestly can't thank you enough for your input and comments.

I'm going to stop rambling now, before this gets any more unhinged!

TL;DR- don't be a little writblr gremlin, lurking in the shadows. Engage with the community, and because they're awesome, they'll help you out!