#thank you for reading and taking this into consideration ....

[ellecdc]

I have come with a Finnick request.

What about reader growing up in a district where it snowed every winter, then moved with Finnick to District 4, and she misses it deeply.

BUT, it gets cold enough there to snow and she gets all bubbly and excited and it's just fluff and Finnick watching her adoringly. I bestow creative freedom upon you, as my brain is fried. 🤍❄️

thanks for the prompt, dolly <3

Finnick Odair x gn!reader who misses the snow [898 words]

CW: written for a fem!reader but can be read as gender neutral, slight illusion to this being set post-rebellion but nothing explicit, reader's implied to not be from District Four, fluff

Finnick probably could have given it a bit longer, but after approximately 37 seconds of consideration, he decided to wake you up.

You’d been a touch quiet as of late, and though Finnick didn’t necessarily blame you, he wished he at least knew why. The holidays could be a stressful time of year, let alone all that the bunch of you had been through and all that you’d lost this past year alone.

But, you had each other, you were safe at home with him in District Four, and if what you needed right now was to be a little blue, well, Finnick understood, and he’d love you through it. 

And then he woke up this morning to snow, and he realized:

You had gone all out on the decorations - his coastal cottage looking more like a gingerbread house than the seaside oasis that it was - but even Finnick couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was missing.

It was the snow. 

You’d been missing the snow. 

“Honey.” He murmured as he crawled up to meet you at the head of the bed, stationing himself on his forearms as he gently laid some of his weight on top of you. “Sweetheart, wakeup.” 

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as you groaned something incoherent though completely and utterly adorable. He spent some time trailing kisses along your shoulder and up your neck to your jaw.

“Come on, gorgeous, I gotta show you something.” He murmured into the corner of your mouth before pressing a kiss there.

“S’early, Finn.” You complained, though one of your arms wrapped around his shoulder to thread your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck as he continued dotting kisses over your face. 

“I know, honey, but I’ve got a surprise for you.” He insisted, though he could hardly take responsibility for the light dusting of snow layering the landscape outside.

You wrenched one eye open to look at him skeptically, and he laughed as he ran his thumb over your lashes to clear the remaining sleep in them. 

“What’s the surprise?” You asked, gauging whether it was worth extricating yourself from your warm cocoon or not. 

“It’s snowing.”

You nearly headbutted Finnick in your haste to sit up, throwing the blankets almost clean off the bed completely and sliding across the hardwood floors to smoosh your face up against the windows. 

Finnick hadn’t been lying, and you were met with the quite unusual yet very beautiful sight of snow dusting along the golden sand of the beach, disturbed only by the spots that the salty waves had splashed up and took the snow away with the tide. 

“Finnick.” You let out breathlessly, a moment of silence before you spun on your feet to look at him with tears in your eyes. “Finnick!”

“Sweetheart!” He emulated. 

“It’s snowing!” 

He beamed at you. “It is!”

You made a breathy sound before you took off out of the room, returning a few moments later with a hat, mitts, a scarf, and your boots. 

“Do you not want to get dressed first, sweetheart?” He asked around a laugh, though he bent down to help you put your boots on anyway.

“There’s no time, Finnick.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, honey.” He argued, but you were already standing, hastily tossing the end of your scarf over your shoulder before pulling the door open and rushing outside. 

It was a sight; clad in only your pyjamas, scarf, mitts, hat, and boots as you stared up at the sky with as wide a smile on your face as Finnick could ever remember seeing on you, snowflakes settling into bits of your exposed hair that enjoyed your effervescence for but a few moments before they melted under your unyielding warmth and sunny disposition. 

“Finnick!”

“It’s snowing.” He agreed, smiling as he leaned against the door frame. 

“It’s snowing.” You whispered reverently. “It’s snowing! Finn! Grab your boots!” 

And who was Finnick to say no to you? So he ran back inside to grab his jacket and boots, as well as a coat for you. He returned to find you, disturbingly, on your knees as you piled the damp, heavy snow between your hands to create a very small, very lopsided snowman. 

You didn’t even startle as Finnick stepped up behind you to drape your jacket over your shoulders. 

“He’s very cute, honey.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple before he pulled your hat down further over your ears. 

“I love him.” You claimed eagerly.

“I love you.” He volleyed. 

You turned to look up at him then, causing his insides to feel not unlike the snowflakes leaving tiny dew drops in your eyelashes; he, too, melting under your effervescent warmth. 

“I love you too, Finn.” You told him, standing to come and fold yourself into his chest; your damp mittens pressed an indent into the back of his jacket as he held onto yours to keep it from sliding off your frame. You tilted your head up and rested your chin on his chest, eyes overflowing with love and contentment. “I love this. I love our life.”

Finnick decided then that he would have to figure out how to make sure you never went another holiday without your snow, not if it made you this happy. 

“I do too, sweetheart.”

[sir-fenris]

Aw, thanks for tagging me @floral-comet-whump and @paingoes 🌟

(I'm a big fan of saying all you need and want to, so forgive me for the big comments)

@paingoes thank you for always indulging my analysis of your works, taking the time to answer them all so thoroughly, just as you answer asks in such a detailed and considerate manner. Your story is amazing and has a permanent place in my headspace. Also, thanks for reposting my arts, I know many people just met my works because of that exposure <3.

@floral-comet-whump thank you for letting me use your prompts! I still didn't use all of the ones I saved because the end of the year is a busy time, but your prompts are really good and perfect for the writing training I am putting myself through. Also, thank you for interacting so frequently with my posts; it puts a smile on my face every time I get the notifs and I really appreciate it <3.

@friendlylocalwhumper , @just-horrible-things and @whump-sprite , thank you for writing your stories, it was my first big universe in whump reading, and I really had a long, thrilling fun with all of it. It was the first time I had to create a tag for a universe/work specifically because I reblogged too many stories of it XD. Hope you always find happiness in writing more, your works are truly amazing <3.

On that note, @whumpitisthen thank you for your story too! I usually can't sit through long writings, especially not very descriptive ones, but your story was simply too good not to read until the end XD. Thank you for being my starting point for meeting so many blogs too, my early phase of finding whump blogs pretty much started with yours <3

@teine-mallaichte , thank you for answering my ask game and for interacting with my posts, I am still reading your works, but they're awesome <3

@thewhumpcaretaker , @melpomenelamusa , @cepheusgalaxy , @bilightningwhumper , @inhurtandincomfort and @doumidas-whumps thank you guys for interacting with so many of my posts <3 I see and really appreciate it :D

Gosh, I thanked a lot of people, right? Well. One more won't hurt :). Thank you to everyone who has ever interacted with any of my posts and sees this. All the interactions I've gotten on my posts (comments, reblogs, silent reblogs, likes, and so on) make me giggle like a teenager with happiness. Putting my work into the world and receiving even the smallest response from someone who enjoyed it will never lose its sparkle of joy :D <3.

-

Saw someone do this. Thought it would be fun!

End of year important people list (whump community edition!)

Reblog and tag all of your favorite whump creators, friends in the whump community, anyone in the whump community really, and let them know how much you care about them!

[devildomwriter]

Wrap Me Up | Lucifer x Reader

1K Word Count | GN! Reader | CW: Very suggestive

Ribbons and bows scattered the floor of Lucifer’s room as you sat crossed leg in the middle of the mess.

Lucifer needed to wrap his brothers’ gifts and he was only just now able to get around to it. After this he could try to relax and enjoy what was left of the holiday season Diavolo forced upon him another consecutive year.

Lucifer pulled more boxes from his closet and sat them down next to you. He got on his knees with a sigh and began sorting the gifts into piles with their corresponding wrapping paper next to them.

Mammon’s wrapping paper was plain, just golden and shiny. Leviathan’s was anime-themed and something he special ordered for Lucifer to wrap his presents in. Satan’s wrapping paper had cats sitting on books. Asmodeus had multiple ones that matched his aesthetic; he’d also picked them out for himself—there was shiny pink, soft pink with white polka dots, and white with pink polka dots. Beelzebub’s paper was just brown and plain since he’d sniff out the food anyway and had no need to identify his gifts by visual means. Belphegor’s paler had the constellations of the Devildom.

You began moving some things aside so Lucifer would have enough room to roll out the paper and he found himself smiling at your consideration even though he wasn’t looking forward to wrapping everything.

Lucifer double-locked his door so his brothers wouldn’t barge in and spoil the Christmas surprise. Christmas may be a new concept for them but the idea of a great surprise was already hardwired into them so as the diligent brother he was, he wouldn’t let them ruin it for themselves.

Both Asmodeus and Mammon had already tried to enter and became extremely suspicious of you being in the room with him until Lucifer and you both explained what you were really doing.

Lucifer felt his headache coming back as now Beelzebub tried to enter the room. You quickly sent him away and Lucifer felt himself beginning to relax just as quickly as he’d stiffened up.

You looked at all the thoughtful presents Lucifer had gotten his brothers and it made you smile to see how much he cared. You knew he did care of course but his brothers had to be punished more often than not so it was easy to lose sight of that fact.

Lucifer saw you smiling at some of the items and prodded you for approval. “Do you think these are fitting?”

You laughed, “You’d know more than I would.”

He sighed and shook his head, “Sometimes I wonder. They’re much quicker to tell you what they want.”

“That’s because it’s my job to spoil them.”

“It’s your job is it now?”

“Mhm. Someone has to be the fun parent.”

He chortled and nodded. “I see. You’re their parent then?”

You nodded, “I may as well be. I feel like I’m taking care of a household of kids.”

Lucifer smiled at the thought someone knew exactly what he was going through but at the same time worried he was burdening you by asking for help.

You read his expressions well enough to know what he was thinking and shook your head, holding your hand up to stop him from saying anything else.

“I’ve got you with me, so that makes it all okay. No matter what they do next.”

Lucifer was touched and thanked you with a faint blush as he began wrapping the first few gifts.

“Tape,” he requested with an outstretched hand and you cut some off for him.

You worked flawlessly together as over two hours you managed to wrap every present. You insisted on wrapping even the smallest ones and he began to wonder if it was so you could keep him a little longer.

You looked at the clock and smiled. “I guess it’s Christmas already, huh? That came so quickly…”

Lucifer nodded. “Thank you, ___, for making this holiday fun for all of us.”

You smiled and blushed. “Well…I’m not done yet…” you confessed and he gave you a curious look.

“Oh?”

“You have one last present to wrap,” you insisted and he watched as you dug through a box of bows and found the perfect one.

You handed him the bow and he stared at it for a moment so you took his hand and placed it atop your head.

“Me. I’m your present,” you said doing your best not to get flustered.

Lucifer took a moment to process what you were saying then gave you a surprisingly genuine smile rather than a flirtatious smirk.

“Yes, you really are,” he agreed and hugged you. “So…what do I get to do with my present exactly?”

You grinned and did your best to maintain eye content. “Whatever you want.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned, “Anything I want to? Really?”

You nodded and he began leading you across his room.

“Even if I wanted to bring my present to bed? I could do that too?” You nodded so he continued, a sly grin growing.

“What if I wanted to tie your wrists up in ribbons and undress you?” You nodded again, becoming heated as he spoke directly into your ear, hand over your stomach.

“Is that so? What if I wanted my present to unravel in my hands and scream my name loudly enough to wake the house?”

You felt like you’d melt as he continued his fantasies in greater detail. “So…my present would let me stuff my cock in them over and over again until Christmas morning?”

You nodded, your knees weakening as he slowly ran his hand up your leg. You felt his breath against your ear and shivers throughout your body as he gave you a wicked grin.

“I see. In that case, I’ll make thorough use of my generous present... And by the way,” he laughed. “Presents aren’t only valid on the day they’re given…isn’t that right? I hope you know I don’t intend for this to only last a single night.”

[sophistication-as]

"𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓"

"𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙮."

ꕥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: william james moriarty / reader

ꕥ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: implied female reader, +18, smut, nsfw, oral (f + m), fingering (f!receiving), sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, mutual pining, romantic intimacy, emotional vulnerability, mention of crimes and society's problems.

ꕥ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: william james moriarty, the infamous lord of crime, is now your ally. but when he stands at your door late at night, you find yourself questioning if being just that is enough. there’s a tension between you, something more than simple partnership. as trust and desire intertwine, you can't help but wonder—what is it that draws you to him? is it mere fascination, or something far deeper?

ꕥ 𝐰𝐜: 4135!

ꕥ thank you @eliasorchard for your support

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤

The room was still, the only sounds being the faint scratching of your pen and the soft crackle of the candle burning low on your desk. Books lay scattered across the surface, open to pages filled with intricate diagrams and notes you’d carefully scrawled over the past few hours. The faint scent of wax and parchment lingered in the air, familiar and comforting.

The knock on the door broke the fragile silence. It wasn’t loud, just a gentle rapping, but it was enough to pull you from your focus. Your pen stopped mid-stroke, hovering over the page as your gaze shifted toward the sound. A rare disturbance at this hour.

You rose from your seat, tugging at the edges of your skirt to smooth the fabric. The floor creaked softly beneath your bare feet as you approached the door, hesitating for a moment with your hand on the handle. Taking a quiet breath, you turned it and pulled the door open.

"William?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. The faint flicker of candlelight casts shadows over his face, making his expression even harder to read. He stood there, as calm as ever, but something in his stance gave him away—something small, but enough to make your curiosity spike.

"Is everything all right?" you pressed, your voice softer this time. “It’s unusual to see you at this hour.”

"I do apologize," he said, his tone as polite as ever. The golden strands of his hair fell lightly over his scarlet eyes, catching the faint light in a way that made it hard to look away. "But I assure you, I am here on business, not merely for the pleasure of your company."

"First of all, it’s quite rude to leave a guest standing at the door, don’t you think?" you remarked, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you stepped aside to hold the door open. Your gaze flickered briefly over the sharp lines of his black cloak, a garment clearly chosen for its ability to conceal more than just his identity. Though your tone carried a playful edge, your posture remained poised, every movement calculated with the kind of grace that bordered on instinct.

You gestured toward the leather armchair by the fireplace, its surface gleaming in the soft, golden glow of the flickering flames. "Please, make yourself comfortable," you added smoothly, your words effortlessly mingling warmth with precision. "I’ll prepare some tea."

William chuckled, a spark of amusement flickering in his scarlet eyes. "Your consideration is truly remarkable," he said, the edge of a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Though, I must say, I’m rather surprised you’d welcome me after such an ungodly hour and finding you, of all places, in your own room."

With a smooth nod, he entered the room, his movements effortless, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze swept the space, lingering on the flickering fire that cast shadows across the walls and shelves. He lowered himself into the armchair with a languid grace, his fingers finding each other almost instinctively as he settled in. "Quite cozy in here," he remarked, his voice laced with dry humor.

Some minutes later, you proceeded to pour hot water into the teapot, which had been previously filled with tea leaves. You presented him with an exquisite fine china cup, worth thousands of pounds, in a serene manner.

William accepted the delicate porcelain cup with a small, appreciative smile, his fingers wrapping around the smooth china with careful precision. He brought the cup to his lips, inhaling the floral fragrance before taking a sip. "I must admit," he said, his voice low and thoughtful, "you truly have a talent for creating...environments." His eyes briefly scanned the room before returning to you. "I hadn’t imagined a study would require quite so much furniture." There was a playful note, but his tone remained gentle, his gaze sharp as he watched your reaction.

He was bold, that much was obvious, and you couldn’t hide the faint smile that tugged at your lips. He had that effect on you — no denying it. There was something about him that screamed genius, that rare kind of brilliance that only comes once in a lifetime. Or, as you liked to joke, a damn mastermind. It wasn’t easy to hide anything from him, though. His eyes were sharp, always watching, always noticing. You could try to mask your thoughts, but he seemed to see right through you, like an open book.

"I realized I was working into the late hours, so I thought, why not make things convenient?" You lifted your cup, savoring a sip of tea, before gesturing casually toward the king-sized bed nestled behind you. A subtle smile played on your lips as you added, "Besides, I think it adds a certain charm to the room, wouldn’t you agree?"

"I assure you, that charm pales in comparison to the owner's," he murmured smoothly, the comment slipping from his lips with such ease that it almost went unnoticed. Before you could muster a reply to his casual flirtation, he seamlessly shifted topics, his tone adopting a more serious edge. "Speaking of pressing matters, did you receive the documents regarding the labor exploitation and trafficking schemes between the French and British elites? Or perhaps any updates from your meeting with the Queen?"

"I wouldn’t say receive—more like acquired by stealing," you chuckled softly, shifting slightly in the armchair beside him, your body moving with a fluid grace as if to shake off the weight of the conversation. "But don’t worry, I’ll fetch them for you, all right?"

Rising to your feet, you crossed the room with purpose, the soft tap of your steps barely audible against the rich carpet. At the mahogany wood drawer, your fingers traced its edge before pressing a hidden button beneath it, revealing a concealed compartment.

William observed the process with a faint, almost amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His crimson gaze followed each movement you made, noting the precision and ease with which you executed even the simplest of tasks. It hadn’t escaped him how much more efficient his life had become since forging an alliance with you—an ally who, thus far, had never failed him.

Yet, it was him who messed things up, since your relationship was supposed to be strictly professional. But there he was, lingering in those moments you shared—debating, reading, or planning together. It was like he couldn’t help himself, enjoying it more than he probably should.

He didn’t even notice when she was standing right in front of him, handing over the documents he’d asked for. That expression of surprise lasted only a second, then he masked it, quietly diving into the information like it was the only thing that mattered.

"So, there really is a cartel between the English and French elites, keeping the textile industry under the control of those arrogant bastards." he muttered, his voice low with a tinge of disgust. His lips curled slightly, his tone almost mocking as he continued, "And as if that wasn’t enough, they’re linked to the deaths of workers and the suppression of popular movements."

William let out a dry chuckle, running a hand over his face, his fingers briefly lingering at his temples as if trying to rub away the weight of the revelation.

"Thankfully, you’ve prepared a plan, Liam. At least those monsters will see their power diminished," you said as you reached for the empty cups. With practiced ease, you placed them on a silver tray, the porcelain making a soft clink. Turning back to him, you folded your arms lightly, tilting your head with a hint of curiosity. "So, what’s next? What am I required to do now?"

"Don’t worry about work now. You’ve already done enough, risking your life for those documents," he said, offering you a reassuring glance. His voice was soft, almost gentle, though the edge of his usual sharpness lingered. "Enjoy your rest for a while."

"Are you going home now?" you inquired, watching him carefully. You figured he had accomplished what he came for and didn’t have any other reasons to stay. "Do you want me to call my coachman?"

"I was lying when I said I was only here for business," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He shifted slightly, a faint trace of embarrassment coloring his expression. "But, are you willing to listen to what I have to say?"

Was he implying he felt attracted to you ?

You glanced at his eyes—scarlet, like a deep, burning flame—and then, almost involuntarily, your gaze shifted to his lips. There was something dangerous about the way he stood there, words hanging between you both like a heavy fog. The air felt charged, and you weren’t sure whether you were ready to step into it or pull back.

He raised from his seat with deliberate ease, his movements carrying a quiet confidence. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his fingers brushing softly against your lips as if testing the waters. His voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with something raw and unguarded. "Please, tell me, name... May I kiss you?"

"Do you really think I would reject you?" you murmured, a playful edge to your tone as you closed the gap between you. Your hands reached up, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but shy. His fingers found their way to your neck, the touch insistent as he deepened the moment, his warmth consuming you entirely.

Without breaking the kiss, he swept you into his arms with ease, carrying you as though you weighed nothing. The world tilted for a moment before you felt the soft sheets beneath you. He placed you down gently, his touch careful, as his scarlet eyes met yours, searching for permission to go further, silently asking for permission.

You answered without hesitation, your gaze and the way you drew him closer saying everything he needed to know.

He then used his lean, slightly calloused fingers to trace along your thigh, moving deliberately. Each touch was firm yet careful, stirring sensations that sent shivers through your body. You tensed under his hand, your breath hitching as his fingers circled the hem of your skirt, playing just at the edge.

The slowness wasn’t accidental—he enjoyed drawing out your reactions, taking his time as if savoring every second. You could feel the subtle pressure of his fingertips, rough but measured, igniting a mix of frustration and longing. A soft sigh escaped your lips, one you couldn’t suppress, and his low chuckle followed immediately after.

“Patience,” William murmured, his breath brushing your ear. His tone carried the faintest hint of mockery, making the flush on your cheeks deepen.

His fingers slid just beneath the edge of the fabric, and the warmth of his touch against bare skin made your pulse quicken. The teasing was unbearable, every nerve in your body screaming for more. The tension was maddening, and finally, you couldn’t hold back.

“Just take this off already,” you huffed, trying to sound commanding but failing to hide the tremble in your voice. Your fists clenched at your sides, as if the small motion could keep you grounded. “Stop toying with me, William.”

He paused, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back slightly. His crimson eyes traveled slowly across your form, a deliberate sweep that left you feeling bare under his gaze.

“Why would I stop?” he asked smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “I’m enjoying the view.”

Then, with infuriating calm, he moved his hands to his waist, undoing the button of his pants with a soft click.

"If you’re not going to do it, I’ll just handle it myself." You inverted your positions, placing all your weight on top of him – a silent reminder that you, too, had the strength to equal him.

That surprised him, though not in the way you might have expected—he visibly hardened beneath you. Glancing down, a smug grin spread across your lips, satisfaction glinting in your eyes as he tasted his own poison.

William's pupils dilated when you had the brilliant idea of starting to take off each piece of clothing from your body. He could no longer suppress his desire, not when he finally had your bare skin touching his. "I surrender," he murmured, your name lingering on his tongue. His voice was hoarse with longing, tinged with the faint embarrassment of admitting defeat in this intimate battle.

He gently placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer until his lips captured yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. The tenderness quickly gave way to passion as his lips explored yours with a fervent curiosity, eager to uncover every hidden detail. A low groan escaped your throat when his tongue slipped into your mouth, the intensity of his desire igniting something equally heated within you.

"It seems you're skilled in more than just academics, Mr. Moriarty," you teased, your voice slightly breathless as your lips parted. The unusual fervor in his kiss contrasted with the composed, calculated persona he so often wore, making your remark all the more fitting.

A mocking expression played across his face, silently taunting you, as if to say your situation was no better than his. To stoke the flames further, his fingers began to explore the delicate heat between your folds, teasingly tracing the slickness that had escaped the confines of your now-forgotten undergarments, abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"I can show you many other things I skilled as well, my lady."

Your eyes fluttered shut from the overwhelming stimulation, breaths uneven as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Instinctively, your legs attempted to close, but his firm hands pushed them apart, holding you in place. Without hesitation, his head dipped lower, drawing closer to your womanhood with purpose. "Liam, it's so good. I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your voice trembling and pitching higher with a mix of pleasure and desperation.

He looked up at your face from below, a soft, almost predatory smile tugging at his lips. "Darling, I know you can," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

The words sent a jolt through you, your body arching slightly in response. Before you could protest, his tongue returned to its relentless pace, circling your clitoris with maddening precision. Each flick and swirl sent waves of satisfaction that spread like wildfire through your body, leaving you gasping for air.

Your thighs trembled as his hands pressed into your skin with just enough force to ground you while his tongue pushed you higher. When he slid a single finger inside, the intrusion was almost too much, your walls instinctively clenching around him. But it was the curl of his finger — achingly precise, particularly for his first time — that sent shockwaves through your core.

A strangled moan escaped your lips as he found your sweet spot, a sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the world outside this moment faded into oblivion. The faint rustle of sheets beneath you and the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive skin grounded you, while your thoughts spiraled—momentarily forgetting that you were ever rivals.

"William—please," you gasped, voice quivering. The desperation in your tone surprised even you, but it didn’t faze him. If anything, it spurred him on.

His free hand moved to grip your hip, his touch rough yet reassuring as if to anchor you amidst the storm he was conjuring. The rhythm of his movements was unrelenting, every stroke and flick driving you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grew uneven, each inhale catching in your throat as the tension within you coiled tighter. The only sounds in the room were your soft whimpers and the wet, sinful noises of his ministrations — you felt yourself nearing your release, unable to hold on any longer.

"Come for me, darling. Don't hold back," he urged, his baritone voice coaxing as you reached your peak. A broken moan escaped you as your fingers tangled in his golden hair, pulling slightly to steady yourself, while he eagerly savored every drop of your release.

You let out a soft chuckle, the calming sensation washing over you leaving your body pleasantly exhausted and your head spinning faintly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin as you tried to steady your breathing. William rose from his position, leaning in close. His lips brushed against your forehead in gentle, lingering kisses, a tender contrast to the intensity of moments before.

"I believe it's your turn now. After all, I’m not one to allow imbalance, especially in matters of pleasure," you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced at him with an air of confident mischief.

He couldn’t help but glance at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with a sadistic edge, that highlighted his mixture of intelligence and a shadowed past—one you had yet to unravel. "If you insist," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine, "who am I to deny you this pleasure?"

With deliberate slowness, he spread his legs slightly, the fabric of his underwear tightening just enough to reveal the unmistakable length of his desire. Your breath hitched at the sight, heat rushing to your cheeks, but his gaze pinned you in place, unapologetic.

Placing his hands firmly on his thighs, he leaned back ever so slightly, the motion hinting a challenge. A wicked smirk danced across his lips as he taunted, "Come here—if you dare."

You weren't one to shy away from challenges, so pleasing the infamous Lord of Crime couldn't possibly be dangerous, could it? That question went unanswered as you pushed his underwear down with anticipation, sliding it off his feet before letting it fall to the ground. It revealed the most delicious cock you had ever seen – the tip swollen, a deep pink hue, and the girth, goodness, it could stretch you deliciously.

"I see why you're so popular in society, my my," you teased, your tongue flicking gently along his base. In response, he let out a low groan, his grip tightening on the bed sheets.

"Do you really think I would bed someone who doesn’t share my ideals?" His voice was low, barely a whisper, as you felt his body tense beneath your touch. His eyes closed, a faint hiss escaping him, not from pain, but from the pleasure your actions were bringing. "And do you honestly believe I have the time for endless physical relationships?" His lips curled into a slight, mocking smile, even as he fought to keep his composure. "You couldn't be more wrong."

"So, am I privileged?" Your eyebrow arched in anticipation, a playful challenge in your gaze. As you took the tip of him into your mouth, you circled it with your tongue, feeling the salty taste of his precum linger. You couldn't help but chuckle, the vibrations sending a thrill through him, awaiting his response.

"What do you think?" William murmured, his voice laced with a soft amusement. His hand moved to your head, a gesture both tender and possessive. Slowly, his fingers combed through your hair, savoring its texture as he massaged your scalp in a soothing rhythm. And then, your lips wrapped around him, moving up and down his length in a steady rhythm, your effort evident as you fought to suppress the urge to gag. The stretch and weight of him tested your limits, but you kept going, driven by the muffled groans of your name that escaped his lips.

"Shit, name, you're gonna make me cum," he murmured, his voice hoarse with restraint. But you didn’t relent. If anything, you pushed him further, your fingers trailing down to gently massage his balls, drawing out a low, guttural groan from deep in his chest. Determined, you took him fully into your mouth, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating, your nose brushing against the soft tickle of his blond pubes as you moved.

And just as he seemed on the verge of release, you pulled away with a mischievous grin, leaving him with a devilish expression. "Little minx," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "do you really think you're going to get away with that?"

"With what?"

Without hesitation, he slipped his hands behind your back, flipping you beneath him with a swift yet deliberate motion. His crimson eyes burned with unrestrained desire as he aligned himself against your entrance, teasing you with the head of his length, as he rubbed it against your slit. "Now take all of me," he commanded, his voice low and thick with hunger.

Following that, he slammed into you, the slick heat of your walls wrapping around him with an almost perfect fit, causing his length to twitch with raw pleasure. "You feel incredible, darling," he murmured, his voice dripping with longing. With a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he pushed deeper, his tip grazing your cervix. "So wet and ready, all for me," he added, his words lingering in the charged air before he closed the distance, capturing your lips in an intimate kiss – his hands roaming into your body as he explored you.

While immersed in the kiss, your bodies shifted, and before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. Your hips moved in tandem with his, rocking back and forth, taking in the fullness of his massive length and girth with each motion. Soon, you buried your face in his neck, the aroma of his cologne enveloping you. It carried a sophisticated oud note, warm and smoky, with hints of spice and leather that lingered like a signature of his power. The heat of his skin against your cheek sent a subtle hum through your body, and you couldn’t resist brushing your lips softly along the pulse at his throat, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch.

You felt yourself nearing the edge, and it was clear he was too—his brows furrowed, his shoulders rigid with tension. His gaze burned into your breasts, the intensity sparking a shiver through you. His fingers didn’t falter, tracing deliberate, slow circles around your sensitive areolas, the coolness of his skin sending a contrast against your warmth.

Your hands clung to his back, nails tracing faint marks as your body tightened around his cock, your climax spilling around him in a slick, glistening ring. "I... I’m going to pull out now, name," he murmured, his voice strained and pitched higher from restraint. With a sharp exhale, he withdrew, and his release followed—hot, white streaks painting your belly in messy, heated patterns.

The room is still heavy with the warmth of the moment, while William moves with purpose, his hands gentle as they clean you up, the motions slow but steady.

"Jesus, I think we really need a rest now," you mutter, voice low. "Or we won't be able to do any work tomorrow."

He laughs quietly, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the room. His fingers are careful, wiping away with a handkerchief he found in a close wooden corner table any traces of him in your skin, and replied, "it would be perfect, since our bodies need to rest. Now, let me take care of you."

Seeing a nod, William moved with a quiet grace, slipping into his silk pajamas. The fabric clung to his frame just enough to reveal the sharpness of his form, the deep midnight blue catching the light as he adjusted the cuffs with ease.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, before he stepped closer, his hands gentle as he helped you into your own nightwear. Then, he carefully dressed you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he fastened the buttons.

You lay on your right side, facing the cool edge of the bed, while he settled on the left, a small gap between you that felt oddly familiar. The blanket, thick and heavy with a soft, worn texture, was pulled up to your chins as you both adjusted into place. You reached for the lamp on the corner table, which clicked off with a soft metallic sound, leaving the room bathed in silence and the intensity of each other's gaze.

"I think we overdo it a little too much."

"...."

"I agree."

"Maybe we should just accept it...no?"

"It would be a pleasure."

[dorianbrightmusic]

Earlier on, I saw a pretty bad take on whether autism is a disability. Since said take was part of a post that had been derailed some time earlier, I’m posting this separately. Thank you to @neurodivergent-willowfor a concise and excellent response to the bad take earlier on.

Ok - let’s make something clear: Autism is a lifelong neurodevelopmental disability. (The ‘developmental’ bit, by the way, means lifelong.)

Since the take I saw used nonverbal people as an example of ‘why autism can be disabling for some people’, I wanna quickly say: Many autistic people are nonverbal and require support accordingly. Nonverbal autistic people typically have higher support needs. Being nonverbal is both disabling in and of itself, and usually associated with a greater level of baseline disability. But even when autistic people are not nonverbal, they are still disabled. If your view is that autism is only disabling because of being nonverbal, you are misunderstanding autism as a whole.

Autism, by definition, involves a combined disability of social communication, restrictive/repetitive behaviours, and usually (but not always) sensory issues.

Re social communicative issues, we struggle with social reciprocity (criterion A1) - oftentimes a pragmatic language deficit - and with nonverbal communication (criterion A2). These result in difficulties maintaining relationships (criterion A3).

I’ve seen people attempt to explain these via the social model of disability (usually bastardising the social model to ‘neurotypicals don’t understand us’). But even if society were accommodating, or if double empathy explained everything (which it doesn’t - and it doesn’t account well for nonverbal autistics), the social communicative issues would still be there. And the diagnostic criteria do not specify the nature of the social communicative disabilities. A1 may be struggling with speech altogether for some autistic people, while for others may involve turn-taking, for others tone, and so on. A2 might be an eye contact alone for some people, while it might be a total inability to discern nonverbal cues altogether for others. Criterion A is defined by there being a disability in social communication. Autism is heterogenous in part because the nature of that disability does not matter - the important bit is that there is a disability.

Criterion B requires at least two of the following: intense but restricted interests, difficulty with change and transition, repetitive and restrictive behaviours, and sensory processing issues. All of these are inherently disabling. Yes, you can derive strengths from the mindset that accompanies them - sure, special interests can be great - but they also heavily limit what we can do in life. (I’ve seen special interests used qs an example of a non-disability - but the thing is, having difficulty engaging with other material is inherently going to limit what you do and think about in life. Which is pretty disabling.) Again, the nature of these disabilities does not matter, so long as they are present and not explained by another condition.

I have relatively mild autism, and I need relatively little support for it. But even when I use my accommodations, I’m still goddamn disabled. My social communicative issues, even if they’re part of my personality, still impair me considerably. I have been taken advantage of due to them, and I have also been horrible to other people due to my literal-mindedness and inability to ‘read the room’. Even though I’m trying not to hurt people, I will always be running up against invisible social walls. My repetitive behaviours and sensory issues are worse again. I get so frustrated without a schedule that I’m liable to slip into depression in the holidays. I get so frightened by loud noises that I scream when someone knocks on the door gently. My pain processing - which is, by the way, the most common area of sensory processing dysfunction in autism - is screwed up badly enough that I find normal light touch painful, and my muscles randomly hurt all the time. The medication I take for this has been correlated with a higher risk of dementia in future. My repetitive/restrictive behaviours have become BFRBs - for about a decade, I’ve picked my skin for an about an hour a day, if not longer. This has resulted in countless infections, as well as one wound deep enough that I had to go to urgent care, as I had destroyed every single skin layer and possibly the fascia below. Given that I always have open wounds, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go swimming.

Here in Australia, my autism is considered mild enough that I’m not eligible for the NDIS (our main government disability support service). But it is still a disability that affects every area of my life.

I’ve seen people on social media try to say that neurodivergences aren’t disabilities, but just differences, and then apply this argument to autism. This is bad logic, as not all neurodivergences are the same. And this is also terrible logic, because the neurodivergence movement is fundamentally a disability rights movement. It’s never been about ‘we’re different, not disabled’ – rather, the foundation of neurodivergence is that ‘disabilities of the nervous system, neural development, and mental health are all part of the natural variation of human life’. That’s it. It’s literally an extension of the disability rights precept that disability is part of the natural variation of human life.

If your understanding of disability states that autism can’t be a disability because it has good bits, you are disregarding much of the disability rights movement as a whole. Disability is a neutral concept. Disability is when your health means you can’t do certain things. That’s it. It’s not inherently bad, although people who resent their disabilities are in their right to do so. Consider how the Deaf community talk about Deaf gains, for example – advantages and perks associated with their disability. Also consider Deaf culture as an example of the complexity and richness of disability as a concept. If physical disabilities can be neutral, and if physical disabilities can be things that many people wouldn’t change about themselves, the same goes for mental and neurodevelopmental disabilities. So you can absolutely appreciate the good parts of autism and still say that it is a disability.

Also: I wanna point out that a huge number of autistic people are disabled by other things as well. From memory, about 30-40% of autistic people have intellectual disability. That’s a lot of autistic people. As well as that, consider the association between autism and apraxia of speech, specific learning disabilities, motor issues, connective tissue disorders, agenesis of the corpus callosum, etc. Consider how many of us develop mental illness – consider the association, in particular, with schizophrenia spectrum disorders and eating disorders. Also consider the fact that about 25% of autism is syndromic – that is, it appears in concert with another condition. These syndromic autism condition include: Down syndrome, Fragile X syndrome, neurofibromatosis, Rett syndrome, Tuberous sclerosis, callosal disorders, and so many others.

Autism is a disability. Even if it weren’t, it’s usually accompanied by other disabilities. Even if you don’t feel disabled by your own autism, the condition itself is still a disability.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

The Evolution of Passion: Culmination

Decided on a more meaningful steep for this one. Phoenix Rising . calendula, wild cherry bark, green tea, rooibos, rosehips and orange peel.

I got an ask (truncated) from danmeiljie " thoughts about what happens in the woods in act 1, and how he initiates with his partner in the graveyard in act 3, But i was curious if you made any connections to his emotional journey and how that's reflected in these different sex scenes and his role in them."

This is my opinion analysis of the graveyard scene. This one might trigger some people. Please read with caution.

WARNING: Game Spoilers, Topics of Sex, Abuse, and Adult themes/Language. Not underage appropriate.

This is not fact, just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game.!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raise your hand if you died here. And I don't mean just a "little death".

Gods, the level of impact this confession had was intense given his avoidant nature throughout the game. I equate it to that moment when someone says their pet doesn't like anybody and they decide to sit in YOUR lap. Those moments are pure wild magic. And so was this one.

Taking Tav to the graveyard is another planned move. But not to manipulate them. And, in my opinion, not to seduce them either.

Thanks to Tav's help, he is finally free of Cazador, but he wants them to bear witness as he frees himself from one more captor.

"Maybe, but he did take it. There's almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock. For nearly two centuries I stalked the streets like a ghost. While the person I was lay here, dead and buried."

Astarion's first victim was someone he never really forgave himself for unwittingly handing over to Cazador to be consumed. Himself.

To me, his grave is a symbolic reference of who he thought he should have / could have been still buried deep within his subconscious. A person he barely remembered, but still grieved for. Lost and decayed under centuries of abuse. Decades of being whatever Cazador said he was. Sad, pathetic, little, owned, nothing. Hollowing him out into the ghost he felt he became.

Some of the worst prisons and punishment's you can imagine, exist within our own minds. The wardens are the echo's of others belief system. The whips are others' opinions of you. The bars are your own acceptance of it.

"I can't be what you want to see in me."

And what a relatable and lamentable ponderance for a lot of us. Who would we be without various trauma painting our minds and bodies in ways that distort our own view of ourselves?

Would we be more social? More trusting? More loving? More loved? More worthy of our own consideration? More successful? More satisfied? More... alive?

" This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again."

It is a very rare thing to find someone who is willing to walk alongside you during your "Frankenstein" phase of healing. The chaotic mess of putting yourself back together and figuring out how to function in the new arrangement. The emotional scars slowing our motion. The rage fevers , the imposter syndrome infections, the weeping wounds that bleed on those who didn't cause them, the pain that drives us into a self induced isolations.

"Iv always been alone. I don't see why that would change now."

*frowns into cup with deep understanding.*

But for Astarion, Tav came along.

Understanding that when he growled and snapped it was because he was scared. So they were patient.

Understanding that he craved companionship, but was untrusting of it. But they cared anyway.

Understanding that his vampiric nature didn't make him inherently bad. So they trusted him. Objectively stupid as that was.

Understanding that his need to feel powerful and in control of everything was a grasp at never wanting to feel helpless again. So they helped him feel safe.

Understanding that he couldn't see the good in himself through his blinded eyes. So they offered what they saw of him.

"You saw something in me. Someone else I could be."

What is that? If not love.

It is said that we don't actually fall in love with people. We fall in love with who we become within the love they give us. What he wants is not just Tav on the physical level, but to continue feeling alive within the safety of their love for him.

Accepting that he has always been more than what others made him to be, he now has the strength to not only say goodbye to the idea of who he should have been, but also lay to rest the person he created to survive. Giving honor and forgiveness' to that persona, and making way for the birth of the person he wants to become.

The Star of Bethlehem flower (Ornithogalum umbellatum) symbolizes purity, innocence, honesty, hope, and forgiveness. 

HE gets to choose who he becomes going forward. What was done can not be undone, but he can choose what to do with it. What meaning the sacrifice will have. What the knowledge of it does to him. It has always been in his power to transmute that poisonous experience into something different, something powerful. To rise from the proverbial ashes to be born again. He just needed someone to remind him of that fact.

Consider yourself reminded as well dear reader..

This included reclaiming and repurposing his view and use of desire. Thus his proposition.

"with everything that life has to offer."

If you boil it all down to its base essence, sex is an act of life. Not only intended to create life, but also used to heal and offer connection. When used properly, of course. This has been quite lost in modern times. And this reason, to me, is why most SA survivors never fully walk away from sex. The desire for that intended connection is still there. So his seemingly misplaced flirt of "If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded," actually does make sense here.

He is being cheeky, as he is known to be, but he also wants Tav to know that he trusts them and feels good about them desiring him as well. "I could be persuaded" mirrors Tav's "You don't have me yet." line the first night you are together. Its meant to be a bratty but fun flirt. Very "Oh, I would love a night of passion, but do give me all the reasons why you desire me. No seriously, tell me what you love about me. Wait, maybe you should write it all down."

Also, with Cazador stabbed, eviscerated, beheaded, shit on, burnt, and yeeted off the ledge into the abyss, he is safe to desire Tav now. Sex with him no longer equates to a death sentence.

Unlike the first night in the woods, or the second night at the grove party, Astarion and Tav have developed real intimacy (into me see) between each other. There is no need for power plays and theatrics here. No need to be half naked, using his body as a tool of seduction. No need to be grandiose using pick up lines to entice.

Instead he is fully clothed and mirroring Tav in a kneeling position. Symbolizing their equality in this moment. A very humble " I want all that you are." on his lips.

If I had to categorize MY Astarion into a sexual subtype. I see him as Pan: demisexual. The bond he feels with Tav is strong and for a demi, that is very seductive. You love him too and that makes him feel safe, seen and...well...

Aww..that's so sweet. But, why does he push Tav down?

There are various possibilities for this. If Tav rode him to the ground in the woods, it could be a turn about is fair play move. I mean, very fair if you ask me.

Or, it could be a loud and clear demonstration of him proving he is the master of his own desires now. Its straight forward dominant behavior. No games, no posturing. He pushes Tav back as if impatient to have them submit to him. Crawling up their body, caging them in with his arms and giving them full on, raw, naked, unadulterated eye contact. Claiming their mouth eagerly with is own. Spreading them open to him with his knee. Declaring that they are his and he is in want.

His first blood, first love, and first time in his new life.

Mercy...

It was Tav who wanted to wake up next to a handsome virgin every morning. Right? *wink*

Happy chosen birthday my beloved elf.

Now, for you dear reader.

One thing I want you to remember when you start feeling sad or hopeless that Astarion is not real. That there is no Tav out there for you, remember that you are Tav. You loved this damaged mess in all his undead glory. Which means you have the capacity and ability to give that effort, kindness, love and patience to yourself as well. Not having someone does not mean you are unlovable or unworthy. It just means its not time yet. You may still still have quests to complete and dragons to slay. Or maybe you are the dragon? Hoarding riches and eating idiots who venture too far into your domain. Either way, its all part of being alive. Neither good nor bad, until you deem it such. Chose joy when you can.

[shesmore-shoebill]

oh dang okay i see there have been some developments since i made this post.

i appreciate everyone being considerate and sharing advice here! All that said, i feel i should say im. not actually, personally worried about/in distress about the idea of smosh cast discovering my fics. Like i wouldnt be THRILLED about direct confirmation of them reading it/them directly trawling through AO3 or very active in the smosh rpf AO3, but that has more to do with my general feelings on "its beneficial to have fan spaces in which the creators/actors/etc are not expected to be active/participating/monitoring", moreso for fandom/content in which the content is, in some form, a live persons persona/life. Like I would die a little inside but I am not actually in distress about it. I post everything I've written with the understanding that it's posted publically and with filtering/placement such that anyone can see it if they so wish, they won't if they don't want to, and if they do, they can, and it's out of my hands at that point. If I'm truly uncomfortable about it being seen by certain parties, I wouldnt post it, or would put more effort into filtering access. And in general I support this as an approach! 👍

That said, I am mostly having fun/leaning into hyberbole here. I do appreciate people trying to be helpful, and in that vein for other folks sincerely worried:

I definitely want to reiterate some of what is being said, particularly re: everyone involved/the subjects here are adults with some familiarity navigating online presence and notoriety; they are all adults experienced with and ideally capable of curating their own online experience. And while I would argue it is to everyone's benefit to think about your conduct online and be considerate with what you say and how you act, the biggest element, if you are worried about causing harm, is making sure your conduct gives them the option to not see what you're saying. I post RPF fic and tag it appropriately here and on AO3. I'm probably not ever going to go and fuck around with RPF/speculative commentary in the comment sections of the cast's unrelated posts. If I am curating an environment or a mindset I am uncomfortable with persisting outside of my intended space, I want to be aware of that. But in general, all of the Smosh casts are adults with the means and agency to faciliate and take care of themselves and curate their spaces/make their own choices, and it's a disservice to both me and them to disregard that. If someone expressed extreme discomfort about RPF fic about them- as would be their right, I probably wouldnt write about them! But as a personal choice, and less because I don't think they'd be able to avoid it the way I post it.

This whole discussion can spiral out into a bajillion discussions about fan conduct in fan spaces and moderation and etc that I. dont really want to get into. But. In general I'll say that it's very fair to not want the cast to see what you're writing about them. But also I'd recommend everyone to treat the internet as it is- aka, a place where folks can and will do what they want to do when they can, and your biggest responsibility is more ensuring that you do what you can to curate your space and actions, instead of pre-empting everything that other people, with agency, might do.

Anyway i might have lost the plot here a little. point being. Im not existentially concerned about it, although Amanda lurking on ao3 Does Instill Me With Deep Horror, and I hope folks who are can figure out a method or model of thinking that works for them, and thank you to folks trying to be helpful. 👍

also on a lighter note i disagree with the tumblr vs ao3 bit but only in a joking way because tumblr search, for me, historically. is a menace. yes even with the search hacks. ah well. 🫡

i know ive made my stance on "i need the smosh cast to Not See My RPF Fic Ever and if they do i think i need to leave" clear. But, actually. I think we need to get Amanda on AO3. Yes I would need to evacuate and possibly torch all my fics in a panic and etc etc. But it would be worth it so we could be blessed with more of Amanda's crack fics. I think it would be worth it.

[royalarchivist]

Richarlyson: You're skinny sir, are you eating well these days?

Pac: Not really. To tell you the truth, I've been eating... I stole, together with my son, we stole some cupcakes from the Federation. I ate some, but I know chocolate isn't the best thing to eat, right?

Richarlyson: 12 kilos D:

Pac: 12 kilos?!? No– what? My god. My god... Am I malnourished, Doctovo? Am I- Am I malnourished?

Richarlyson: You weigh less than a pitbull, sir.

Pac: Less than the singer? Damn... [Laughs]

Richarlyson: [Hits Pac]

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[rainingincale]

you take your phone INSIDE THE SHOWER ??? like i get the songs thing but thats why they invented bathroom sink outside the shower so you can turn your phone on full volume and leave it there !!

My reading comprehension skills = NONE

This is what i do. I was understanding the question as just listening to music while in the shower, not actually taking the phone INTO the shower with you 🤣😭

*in reference to this poll*

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonic Boom - S3E13

Chapter title: Schrödinger's Hedgehog, Part 2

Summary: The truth about Shadow is revealed, and some problems are solved…while others are made worse. Will a team of five emotionally inexperienced people be able to do what needs to be done?

AO3 Link

First | Previous | Next

[This episode begins without any kind of a cold open, jumping directly into the introductory sequence.]

[Shadow is not present in the part with the rest of the heroes, but their team shot is still structured as if he were there, making the absence very noticeable.]

[Instead, he appears in his old villain intro, with just his stripes and angry eyes visible. However, after a second or two, his eyes change into a much more nervous expression, and dart around briefly.]

[Then, the rest of the sequence continues, complete with the episode title at the end.]

…

When Tails had called the others, they’d all rushed into his workshop immediately, fearing the worst. “What’s wrong, Tails?” Amy had cried. Sonic, somehow, didn’t say a thing. Instead, he darted over to Shadow, clearly concerned for his rival-turned-friend.

What they found, however, was something far stranger than what they had expected.

At Sonic’s gasp, all five teammates gathered around Shadow, staring at his exposed hand. It didn’t look like anything they’d seen before—in fact, it barely resembled any of their own, except in general shape.

Starting from the middle of Shadow’s forearm, his black coloration ended and a strange silicone material began. It was a dull and semi-transparent grey (except for his arm stripe, which was pale red), with wires threaded throughout it, weaving around a central piston that extended up into the rest of his arm. His hand was made of the same silicone, and contained five segmented metal bars that extended through each of his fingers in place of the usual hand structure. They ended in five wickedly sharp steel claws that looked as though they could slice through Eggman’s badniks like they were made of warm butter.

Everyone stared until Sticks broke the silence. “He’s been replaced by a robot!” she screamed. “Who knows who they’ll come for next?!”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Sticks. What I want to know is, since when has Shadow had a prosthetic hand?” Amy asked, confused.

Tails frowned. “I don’t know, but however he got it, this is a seriously advanced piece of machinery. It almost perfectly mimics a real hand!”

While Amy and Tails discussed this revelation, Sonic eyed the way the piston in Shadow’s arm seemed to extend past what he could see somewhat suspiciously. Sure, maybe that was how prosthetics worked and he just didn’t know it, but something wasn’t quite adding up to him.

Running on that gut feeling, he pulled off Shadow’s other glove…

…to reveal a second synthetic hand underneath.

A momentary silence fell as everyone stared again.

Knuckles blinked. “So was Sticks right about him being replaced by a robot?”

“I don’t know about replaced, that just doesn’t feel right, but maybe…aha!” Tails exclaimed. “My scanners were calibrated to organic material, not inorganic! Let me try again.”

The entire team waited with bated breath as Tails’s machinery began to analyze Shadow one last time. The loading bar on the screen seemed almost excruciatingly slow as it ticked upwards a centimeter at a time.

And then, there was a map of Shadow’s insides for everyone to see. 

It still didn’t make perfect sense, since there were large parts of Shadow simply listed as “unidentifiable material”, but now it was perfectly clear that he didn’t have one (or even two) prosthetic arms. Shadow was, somehow, an android. An android with Ancient markings on some of his frame, to boot.

Tails looked torn between freaking out in shock and freaking out in excitement. “Chaos, that actually makes perfect sense!” 

“Uh…what makes perfect sense, bud?” Sonic asked.

“You guys remember how Shadow knew all this stuff about the Ancients—like with your mech, Sonic? Well, a while back,  Amy and I discovered that Mighton and Bolts are actually Ancient robots with ridiculously advanced AIs.”

“Oh yeah! Plus, now that I think about it, he seemed kinda awkward earlier when we were all talking about our opinions on robots.” Sonic added.

“So what I think is, since the robots of Roboken are so…lifelike, mentally, why couldn’t the Ancients have made a robot that looks like us as well as thinks like us?” the engineer finished.

“Why would they want to do that?” Amy asked. 

Tails shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe just because they could?”

“But how does any of this help us fix him?” Knuckles said, looking upset.

“Because…” the fox said proudly. “I may not know how to fix people, but I sure know how to fix robots!”

The entire team cheered at that, even Sticks.

“Alright!” Tails declared. “Guys, I need all of you to go back to Shadow’s cave and find anything that might help me fix him. Meanwhile, I’m going to hook him up to my computers and see what else I can figure out.”

“On it!” Sonic said, saluting. He rushed out the door with everybody else in tow, leaving Tails alone in the lab.

With an unconscious, highly advanced robot who also just happened to be his semi-friend. 

“This is one of the best days of my life.” he whispered.

Fifteen minutes later, once he’d managed to access Shadow’s brain wirelessly, his computer crashed.

(And so did his mood. At least temporarily.)

Tails sighed, rewiring some ports in the back so that all of his various devices could share processing power. Then, he tried rebooting it and reconnecting it to Shadow. 

Immediately, he received about twenty different error messages, including a [Files Incompatible: Open anyway?] request. 

He selected [Yes] hesitantly, and then gasped as row after row of files filled his screen. Most of them were names he didn’t even understand…because they were all written in Ancient. 

Tails scrambled for the original and translated copies of the robot manuscript that Amy had made him, hoping that he could use them as a sort of decoding mechanism for what he saw on screen. Thankfully, they did indeed make it a little easier to understand the writing—and the parts he could read were all incredible.

Shadow had an absolutely insane amount of files just for his sense of smell, let alone his optics and auditory sensors. And that wasn’t even touching his actual cognitive programming. 

Once he’d finished geeking out, Tails ran a full diagnostic of Shadow’s body, and discovered the problem. The house had fallen on him in the right position to somehow…disconnect some of his processing capability? It didn’t entirely make sense, and Tails spent the next few minutes deep in thought.

Suddenly, he came to a realization. Very slowly, he clicked on the file labeled with what he hoped was the Ancients’ version of ‘opacity’, and crossing his fingers, he turned the slider contained within most of the way down.

And with that, the entirety of Shadow’s ‘fur’ faded to the same dull, transparent grey and pale red. 

Beneath the rest of his silicone body, endless wires and metal framing lay. Even his eyelids were transparent (and Tails thought it was slightly creepy to see him staring blankly through them, if he was being entirely honest). And in the center of his body pulsed a bright blue crystal.

Looking closely, Tails could see that one of the clamps attaching a wire to the crystal had completely broken, leaving the wire detached. He knew at a glance that it wouldn’t match any of the clamp types he had—it was a completely unique make.

Unfortunately, that meant that all he could do now was wait for his friends to come back.

…

The other four were all busy searching through the boxes in Shadow’s cave, hoping to find something that matched what their engineer friend had seen inside him. Nothing seemed to fit the picture Tails had sent, though, and they were all starting to lose hope.

Sonic wandered throughout the cave, past the place where they’d found the mech. Only a little farther along, a rough bedroom was set up, and it made Sonic a little sad to see how poorly Shadow was living even compared to Knuckles these days.

Then, he noticed the corner of another cardboard box poking out from underneath the bed. Scrambling forward, he pulled it out, barely noting the carefully lettered label: Emergency Parts.

“Guys!” he yelled, already digging through the electronics. “Guys, I think I found it!” The others gathered around him just as he held up a clamp triumphantly, and Amy quickly matched it to the picture Tails had sent.

It was perfect.

Immediately, they all raced back to Tails’s workshop, the blue hedgehog making no effort to be gentle as he slammed the entire box down on the table. “Can you fix him?” Sonic asked, looking over at the android nervously. 

“I think so?” Tails said hesitantly. “I spent some time searching through his command files and found a couple things that might help.”

He pressed a button, and a section of Shadow’s silicone covering pulled back to reveal his internal wiring. Carefully, Tails pulled out the broken clamp with his fingers (since there was no tool that matched the ones the Ancients had used) and replaced it with the new one. Then, the engineer pulled out some of his most delicate tools and gently reset the wire in its housing. 

After a moment of careful inspection to make sure nothing was out of alignment, as well as a quick voltage check, Tails set the silicone covering back in place and sat back with a sigh. “We’ll just have to hope that he’ll be able to fix the rest on his own from here.” he said quietly, watching Shadow’s still body along with the others.

…

>>System malfunction: Corrected_

>>Rebooting_

Shadow gasped, sitting bolt upright. 

He took a trembling breath, out of habit more than anything else. Looking around, he saw that he was in Tails’s (currently empty) lab. He relaxed marginally at that—so he was among friends. Good. 

…Immediately afterwards, he remembered to feel embarrassed about how easy it was for him to feel safe around the other five these days.

Now then, what was he doing here? The last thing he remembered was saving that little girl from the house, and then everything went dark. As he looked around, however, he suddenly found that feeling of safety ripped right out of his head—

—when he noticed that his coloration had been dialed down to only twenty-five percent opacity. No matter whether it had happened during his injury, or afterwards here in the lab, it meant that the team knew.

As Shadow looked around with increasing terror, automatically running a self-diagnostic, he noticed that one of his clamps was registered as having been recently replaced. That must’ve been what knocked me out, he noted faintly. The most terrible part of all of it, though, was the fact that there were files filling up the entirety of Tails’s screen.

His files. The files that made up the personality of the creation named Shadow.

How long had they been looking through his head?!

Shadow terminated the connection instantly, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and fury. And here he’d thought he could trust these heroes. They’d called him their friend. He scoffed to himself furiously, ignoring the betrayed pain building up inside him. He had been a fool. 

And it was then that Tails appeared at the door.

The android bared his teeth defensively, leaping off the table and into a fighting stance.

“Guys?” Tails squeaked. “I…I don’t think Shadow’s happy with me…”

Suddenly, the rest of the team piled into the room, making Shadow take a sudden step backwards. 

“You okay, Shads?” Sonic asked worriedly.

“Do you need anything?” Amy added.

Shadow snarled at them, his shoulders hunching. “Liars. Traitors! Don’t bother pretending you all still like me.”

“What?” Tails said, his eyes widening.

“You heard what I said!” he barked. “I know you all rifled through my head like a—a storage cabinet! Did you like what you saw? Was it fun?”

“No! No, Shads, we didn’t look at anything, except what we needed to fix you! We’d never!” Sonic cried, visibly taken aback.

“Sure.” he scoffed. “As if I’d believe that now.”

And with that, he vanished.

…

The team scoured the entire island in search of Shadow, but he was always one step ahead of them. After several hours of searching, they were forced to take a break, regrouping at Amy’s house.

“How does he keep on escaping?” Knuckles sighed, currently collapsed on the couch.

Tails frowned. “As long as his power source doesn’t die, he can theoretically keep going at the same pace for as long as he wants. We just can’t match up to that kind of persistence.”

Sonic began to type on his communicator even more quickly than usual, belying his stress. “Well, we might not be able to, but I know someone a little more experienced than us who could find him.”

“Nobody’s a better tracker than me!” Sticks cried.

“You are the best tracker we have…but you’re tired right now, and we need more people with different skills to find him.” Amy pointed out.

“Fine.” the badger huffed. “So who’s he calling?”

Sonic watched his communicator intently as three flashing dots appeared on the messaging app. “Someone who owes me a favor.”

Several minutes later, Vector kicked the door open. “Never fear, the Chaotix Detective Agency is here!” he cried.

“Agency?” Amy asked skeptically. “There’s only one of you.”

Vector smirked. “Well, sure. Last time you saw me, there was! But I’ve been asking around, putting up some ads on ConnectIn, and I managed to find these guys!” He stepped aside to reveal a chameleon dressed in stereotypical goth clothing and a hyperactive bee.

“He didn’t actually find either of us on ConnectIn.” the chameleon added. “I sought him out, and he just stumbled upon Charmy over there by pure chance.”

“Ohhhh wow, are you guys the heroes Vector told me about?” Charmy gasped, flying all around them excitedly. 

“Yeah, they are. But right now we’re on the job, got it, pal?” Vector said, gently pulling the kid back to his side.

“Got it!” Charmy chirped (and then immediately grinned at the team the moment Vector looked away).

“Yeah, so this is Charmy, our resident scout, air support, and mascot,” Vector explained, “and this here is Espio. He’s got some cool ninja skills, so he helps me out too. A lot, if I’m being honest.”

The chameleon promptly turned invisible, making the other five gasp. “So cool…” Knuckles whispered. 

Espio then reappeared, now with a slight blush on his face. “Thanks.” he said quietly.

“Now then, just sit back and relax!” Vector said cheerfully. “We’ll find your guy in no time, I promise!”

…

‘No time’ turned out to be exactly three hours and twenty-two minutes. During that time period, Amy managed to stress-bake two batches of banana muffins, Tails and Knuckles half-heartedly played a board game, Sticks was busy hiding the banana muffins in various ‘apocalypse caches’, and Sonic wore a circular hole in the rug.

All five of them nearly hit the roof when the Chaotix called Sonic’s communicator.

“Hey, Sonic!” Vector said. “Listen, we found your guy, but we have one tiny problem.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Sonic asked, his foot tapping rapidly.

Espio appeared in the picture. “He’s camped out in an old Ancient ruin, and he’s switched all of the defenses on. I was the only one who could get within forty feet without laser cannons trying to blast me to bits.”

“And we didn’t sign up to get blasted to bits!” Charmy chimed in.

“I, uh, I hope this won’t affect our payment?” Vector added hopefully.

“No way!” Sonic said hurriedly, eager to get on with things already. “I called you guys in to find him, not to bring him back here. Just send us the coordinates and we’ll call it all square, okay?”

Vector grinned. “It’s been great doin’ business with ya, Sonic! If you ever need something found again, just remember us and we’ll help you out!”

In the background, they could hear Charmy singing something that sounded an awful lot like “Team Chaotix! They’re detectives you want on your side!”

“Thanks so much, Vec. See ya!” Sonic said, signing off.

“Alright.” Amy said, punching a fist into her other hand. “Now all we have to do is get Shadow back.”

“That’s easier said than done.” Tails said, looking nervous. “I just got the coordinates, and this is a temple nobody’s even discovered before. It could be really dangerous.”

“Oh yeah? We can handle dangerous!” Knuckles said cheerfully.

A montage ensues in which the team prepares for the ordeal ahead. Tails gathers up all of his equipment, while Sticks does the same with their homemade monitoring devices. Amy smashes a few targets with her hammer, Knuckles practices his burrowing form, and Sonic adds some extra sports tape to his ankles.

Then, the scene cuts to the team approaching the ruins. They smile confidently and begin to charge in an epic slow motion shot—only to end up screaming and running back in the other direction when the laser cannons start firing.

“Alright, scrap the ‘Epic Hero Entrance’ plan.” Sonic wheezed. “Tails, you go ahead and disable the cannons. The rest of us can wait until you’re done.”

The fox dashed across the field, his tails whirring at top speed. After a few tense minutes, in which he was forced to work while plastered against the wall to stay in the cannons’ blind spots, he stuck out his hand with a thumbs-up as the machinery deactivated.

Knuckles inched out onto the field carefully, and when he wasn’t immediately turned into a scorch mark, the others followed behind him. Tails managed to open the doors not long after they reached his position, and they all braced themselves for the trials ahead. 

Next up was a…completely empty hallway?

At least, it seemed that way until Sticks held up their hand, sniffing the air warily. After a moment, they blew chalk dust into the hall, revealing the laser beams that crisscrossed the way forward. Carefully, the badger dodged each and every beam until they made it to the other side, their foot automatically pressing a panel that deactivated the beams.

After that, there was a memory matching puzzle that ended up being solved by Amy, which took her a few tries to get right. As soon as she finished, she did a quick celebratory dance—before remembering that she was supposed to be the serious one, and if any of you think about mentioning that ever again, first remember the ten out of ten targets I hit with my hammer earlier. 

Then, they were faced with a few riddles that Knuckles got right with his oddly specific riddling skills, and then (of course) a giant labyrinth with about twenty different hallways spiraling off it in every direction imaginable. Yes, that did include one pointing directly upwards. Sonic sped through each and every path until he found an exit that didn’t lead to a pit of flames, a pit of snakes, a spike trap, a pit of piranhas, or any other kind of murder-inclined pits. Then, he shot off a guided flare that Tails had provided to show the way, and the rest simply followed the glowing trail directly to him.

Carefully, they all lined up, staring down into the darkness ahead. A faint light emanated from the end of the hall, showing them the way they hoped would lead to their missing friend.

[screen fades to black]

[This time it’s Tails complaining. “Aw, come on! Another cliffhanger? We’re almost to the best part!”]

[roll credits]

[flyingspicerack]

hey guys, this is very hard for me to talk about and bring up, but ive talked to a few people about it in priv already, and I think im ready to publicly talk about it...

When i joined the ososan fandom back in March, it was a bit... dead? And i was trying to grasp at straws, trying to find people to connect to, trying to make some friends, and came upon one person who I seemed to mesh with really well. She posted a lot about a big server she had full of people to talk about her content with and I was at first wary to join (i dont like big servers) but did so anyway. However, as I was wary, the two of us stayed in DMs for quite a while, in addition to me being in the big server as well. This person was equally reciprocating conversation with me, with equal excitement, with equal interest to the subject matter. I believe everything is going fine, them and I, i think, are becoming closer friends, she invited me to a smaller group run by someone else, things are good for a couple weeks. Im showing up and watching art streams, sure, im a little awkward, its a new group of people and I have adhd and am very neurodivergent (to which she claims she is as well) so i'm a bit... weird or whatever, but who isnt??

Then, I'm pulled aside, im pulled into a smaller group chat with this person and two 'mediators' to which this person proceeds to tear into me, telling me that i make her uncomfortable, that im being codependent with her (bitch the 'co' in 'codependency' implies ur reciprocating but claimed i was the only problem), i put her up on a pedestal, says our age gap is weird, etc. (I have screenshots of the whole 'confrontation' if ppl want to see it) and i was terrified... She never indicated prior to this that I was making her uncomfortable... I thought i was doing everything correctly, i thought i was being a friend, i thought we were equally excited to hang out with one another?

So, from this, because of this, this bitch fucking traumatized me. She had me believing, and still trying to unlearn, that i am annoying, that i am a nuisance, that im a bother to everyone that i come around, she destroyed my self esteem and destroyed how i try to make friendships because i am SO SCARED all the time now... that one of you is going to turn around and tell me that I put you on some kind of pedestal, that im being annoying and bothering you all too much, its why i disappeared the other day because i got scared i was posting too much, that i got scared that i was ... doing something wrong...

So... ok now that im in it, writing this, excuse my lack of composure for the rest of this post, i tried to hold it but now im getting angry

SO FUCKING MEANWHILE THIS BITCH, talking about codependency and age gaps in friendships, her two 'lackeys' apparently were her ONLY friends during like 4 years of her life (codependent hippocracy) AND she was into ososan from the beginning when she was like fucking 14, and one of her lakeys is OLDER than me at 29 AND WAS FRIENDS WITH HER WHEN SHE WAS 22 AND THIS BITCH WAS 14 SO you're gonna sit here and tell me that OUR age gap is weird when THAT SHIT is going on????????????????????? And fucking- PUTTING you on a fucking PEDESTAL?? when YOU are the one who is the OVERLORD of this fucking server you have with like 50+ peons, AND you have this nasty ass notification in the server to alert EVERYONE when someone leaves to which is kinda creepy and controlling??

Anyway i responded scared out of my mind and backed off... she didnt want to cut me out, just limit conversation and take me out of the smaller knit circle and we could still be friends, but obviously this freaked me out and i didnt talk to her much after that.... ANYWAY so this person THEN has the audacity to reach out to me a month or so later and is like 'hey... we haven't talked much and i think something might have happened between us? are we ok? you're really distant" and then i fucking laid into her cause i had the month to think on it...

If any of this behavior sounds familiar to you, its bc the person 'in charge' is known as Ava, or pinklemonfruit here on tumblr, and one of her lackeys? Lovenu, who im pretty sure a lot of you already know of... theres another one, her name is emmy, her username here i believe is lichenqueen and was the other 'mediator' i have been told by one source that they potentially could be lying about their age, but take this with a grain of salt bc i have no proof of this

I unfortunately dove right into this when i came into the fandom bc i didn't know any better, i didn't know that these people were bad and caused problems back in the day... but now im aware and i need everyone else who may interact with them to know that they are not good people and have hurt me personally. They have caused me trauma that I am trying really hard to get over but i fear its going to take a long time...

This is MY personal story and account of interactions with these people and I will continue to believe what I know from personal experience. If you come to me, trying to defend any of these people or try to make light of this situation, you will no longer be allowed to associate with me. This fucked me up, and I will not compromise on this, you will no longer feel safe to be around if you condone how these people treated me. If you do not believe my words, then fine, but i will no longer desire company from people who will condone this type of treatment that I had to endure and have been suffering through the aftereffects of.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my story and im sorry if it ended up too personal at all. But, I really hope those that read this will... understand my timid behavior? Why im ALWAYS saying sorry? Why im always so scared in group setting like aggies, why im always so apprehensive and timid and keep thinking people are lying to me about really liking having me around? Its because of this, this is truly and horribly messed up to do to someone... making them feel so low and horrible about their existence ...

if you have any questions, i am willing to answer them...

[piedoesnotequalpi]

Fake Fic Title:

From The Ladder’s Last Rung

Hello! I am fairly sure (after some googling) that your title is a reference to a Noah Kahan song!

Anyway, to me "last rung" can mean either the highest or the lowest point on a ladder, depending on your perspective, and that is the premise of this fic concept!

Race goes through elementary/middle/high school with a reputation of being both the class clown and one of the smartest people in his grade. What most people don't know, though, is that he uses the class clown part of his personality to deflect from the fact that he is not doing as well, grades-wise, as people might think--sure, he takes AP history when it's available, but he never gets higher than a B- on his report card for it. So when senior year rolls around, the combination of good grades in most other subjects and extracurriculars that make him seem interesting means he is able to get into one of his reach schools.

Anyway, Race goes off to school and he's very excited about the whole thing. He can finally put history, which is his least favorite subject, in the metaphorical rearview mirror; he's going to major in math and minor in dance; he's going to join all the clubs that weren't available to him in high school. During course registration, he ignores the suggestion from his RA that he should perhaps consider only taking one math class his first semester and registers for honors calculus (yes, this is a thing at some colleges) and an upper-level math class that only has a prerequisite of calc 1 and 2.

The problem with college, especially the first semester, is that it is often a big adjustment from high school no matter what your high school was like. Classes that really should not be taught lecture-style are taught that way, you're (sometimes) in a new city/town and even if you aren't you probably don't know a ton of people, and suddenly you have a much higher degree of independence. So Race is dealing with the general first semester freshman woes of making new friends and having a roommate and balancing time and navigating dining halls, but he's also dealing with the fact that for the first time in his life, he's struggling in his math classes. And that makes everything worse for him, because if he can't even do the one thing he's supposed to be really really good at, then how can he get through the rest of college? Does he even deserve to be there? Clearly his college made a mistake when they accepted him despite his less-than-perfect history grades. (those are his thoughts, not mine; he does deserve to be there)

As I mentioned earlier, he's used to using his class clown-esque personality to deflect from what's actually going on in his life, so almost no one knows how stressed he is. He still talks to his high school friends a lot, but so many of them are at their colleges having (as far as he's aware) a much easier time adjusting, so he doesn't want to talk about it with most of them. He goes to office hours sometimes, but he is very careful about which problems he gets help with to keep up the illusion that he knows what's going on. This would be less of a problem if he met up with his classmates to do homework, but he's worried he won't be useful enough to them. And obviously he would rather die than tell his new college acquaintances how overwhelmed he's feeling. The semester goes by in a blur of homework stress and club meetings and conversations where he just barely manages to convince everyone that he's doing okay (it's a lot harder than it used to be), all overlaid by the feeling that he's not good enough.

Being a college student gets easier, but not easy enough that he's able to turn everything around by the end of the semester. He withdraws from one of his math classes, and doesn't do great in the other, and he does...okay in his other classes. It's not the end of the world, but it does mean he has to drop out of the honors calculus sequence and possibly retake the class he withdrew from. But that doesn't stop Race from feeling like a failure, even though the only people who see his grades are him and his parent(s) (I haven't decided what his parent situation is in this), and they're understanding. It'll be easy to make up the credits he lost from the course withdrawal by taking some lower credit electives in later semesters, and he has seven more semesters to raise his GPA and figure things out.

And then we come back to the title and my (mis)interpretation of it (I wasn't just rambling pointlessly this whole time): To Race's parent(s), he's fallen off the bottom rung of the metaphorical ladder, so it's pretty manageable to get back up and keep going. But to Race, he's fallen off the top rung, because he can't stop thinking that he peaked in high school.

Things do get better for him, and later on he'll probably experience stuff that's way worse and wish it were just a rough first semester of undergrad, but in the moment, it really sucks!

[morganaspendragonss]

hate working in translation sometimes, i had a client come back to me today like ‘ummm sweaty i think you need to check this translation, it says the child is male when it’s not specified in english’

bestie…….thats literally just how portuguese (and spanish and arabic etc etc) works

[taexual]

hey not to sound rude or anything it’s just a critic that i would like to share with you bc i feel like you write too much detail about other things that aren’t really how do i say it not important to the storyline. for example you wrote almost a whole chapter of jk and his friends doing absolutely nothing other than bicker for 30mins while drinking beer and what not so while it’s cool and very important for us readers to know about some details and information about the characters in the story it’s just too much and you did it again in chapter 7 too it’s like we never get to see him interact with oc more than 5 mins and the next moment he’s with his friends or idk she has to work on this and that like i get it she has to work but i don’t need to know the equipments. again im not trying to be rude or discredit you i love your story it’s very interesting i just want to let you know what you might do better next time if you would allow us to criticize you :)

hii, thank you so much for your insight!! i really appreciate it, although i am sorry those scenes felt excessive for you. they're meant to visualise the atmosphere, introduce you to the characters, build on their personalities, and strengthen the storyline, so it isn't just two-dimensional cardboard cut-outs interacting with each other in a vacuum. i'm hoping for full immersion into this universe with the way i write, but i understand if you're mainly interested in the two main characters interacting -- that's obviously totally fine! thank you for reading so far, anyway! 🥰❤️

[icantalk710]

📱😪