Critiques and Writer's Discussion

The elegant bustle of guests filled the grand foyer like the rustling of silk and whispered secrets, a soft murmur of polite conversation rising and falling beneath the golden chandeliers. Velvet ropes shimmered like ribbons in the warm light as ushers guided late arrivals to their seats with quiet grace. Beth and Alyssa lingered near a side table stacked with neatly folded programs, the polished wood catching the reflection of the chandeliers above. Both women had quieted now, their voices softened by anticipation as they watched the ebb and flow of pre-show excitement. Beth’s gaze had wandered toward the tall auditorium doors more than once. She hadn’t spoken much since her last text to Dylan. Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her purse, her thumb tracing the stitching in a slow, rhythmic loop, over and over, like she was anchoring herself in a moment that felt too big, too fragile to touch directly. Alyssa had noticed the change. Beth’s earlier lightness had given way to something quieter, a soft uncertainty that flickered beneath her composed smile, like the worry of a mother trying to steady herself before a tide she didn’t fully see coming. A warm voice cut through the hush, drawing their attention. "Mrs. Mercer?" Dr. Sharp approached, wearing a flowing slate-blue blouse and a long silver necklace that glinted softly with each movement. Her calm presence seemed to part the nervous air around them, lending ease without effort. She radiated the kind of grace that didn’t come from performance but from knowing exactly who she was. "I just wanted to say welcome. It’s truly good to meet you," she said, extending her hand to Beth, who shook it with a grateful nod. "I'm Dylan's psychology teacher. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing him grow—watching him become someone entirely new, and yet still so himself." Beth’s lips curved into a smile, but it trembled faintly. "Thank you. I… didn’t expect to feel so nervous tonight. But I do." Dr. Sharp’s smile was warm, kind. She turned to Alyssa with a wink. "And you—still keeping our boy grounded, I hope?" Alyssa nodded, her pride unmistakable. "He’s a little star-struck, but he’s ready. He’s going to shine." Beth gave a small laugh, but it faded quickly. Dr. Sharp tilted her head. "Is something weighing on you?" Beth hesitated, her voice catching in her throat. Then she exhaled slowly, words emerging like a confession. "When I found out he failed history, I thought… I thought I’d failed, too. As a mom. We’ve always been close, but I didn’t know how much he was struggling until it was almost too late." Dr. Sharp reached out, placing a gentle hand on Beth’s arm. It wasn’t a gesture of comfort from someone above—it was a shared moment, woman to woman. "You didn’t fail him. You brought him here. You made space for him to grow. This place isn’t easy. It challenges the heart as much as the mind. But Dylan—he’s learning. He’s becoming someone stronger. Someone braver." Beth swallowed hard. Her eyes glistened. She nodded. "Thank you. I needed to hear that." "He’s not the same boy you dropped off six weeks ago," Dr. Sharp added. Her voice was quiet but sure. "And that’s a wonderful thing." Beth blinked quickly, like something inside had loosened and she didn’t quite know what to do with the relief. Her mouth opened, closed again, then finally she nodded with a touch more strength. The familiar click of heels against marble announced another presence. Miss Emma, ever composed, swept toward them, smoothing the front of her dress and giving them all a warm, brisk nod. "Everything’s in motion," she said, her tone cheerful but laced with purpose. "Ladies, allow me to introduce Libby’s mother—this is Frances Worthington." Frances approached with a refined air, dressed in a structured cream jacket and pearls that glowed like they’d caught the last light of day. Her smile was warm, but practiced, and her eyes sparkled as they landed on Beth and Alyssa. "You must be Dylan’s mother. And Alyssa—I’ve heard quite a bit about you both." Beth lifted a brow, amused. "All good, I hope." Frances laughed, not unkindly. "With Libby? One never knows. But yes. Mostly good." The ushers had begun to move, their steps firm and quiet as they guided guests toward the tall double doors that led to the performance hall. Miss Emma gave one final nod. "It’s time. I’ll see you both after. He’s ready." Beth turned for one last glance toward the hallway that led backstage. Her fingers found her necklace, pressing it gently before letting it fall back into place. Something within her seemed to click into alignment. Alyssa leaned in, her voice soft. "He’s going to take your breath away." Beth nodded, the words barely escaping her. "He already does." The lights in the auditorium dimmed like a collective inhalation. The polite murmuring of the crowd softened into reverent hush, as if the entire room had tilted its attention forward. Then, a single spotlight found center stage. Mrs. Langford stepped into the glow. She was every inch the figurehead of tradition—elegant and assured, dressed in a tailored navy suit and a silk scarf that seemed to shimmer with quiet dignity. Her presence stilled the room, commanding not by volume, but by weight. She paused just long enough to let the hush deepen. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice a smooth, resonant melody. "On behalf of the academy, I welcome you." A ripple of applause passed politely through the room. "Tonight, we gather to celebrate. Not just talent, but transformation. Not just performance, but perseverance. Our students stand at the halfway point of this most unusual and ambitious summer term. They have studied, they have trained, and above all, they have grown—in courage, in discipline, and in heart." She paused, letting the words settle. "This academy has always asked much of its community. It demands excellence—not only in academics, but in character. This year, it asked more of all of us. And it gave back, too. For in asking more, it revealed more—about who we are and who we might become." Her eyes swept over the crowd, not lingering, but acknowledging. "It is no small thing to walk into a space where you feel like you do not quite belong… and to make it yours. It is no small feat to change, to adapt, to lead. And yet, that is precisely what we have witnessed. Quiet acts of bravery. Everyday kindnesses. A resilience that speaks louder than any applause." She took a breath. Her voice softened, threading with just a hint of emotion. "To the parents and guests in this room: your children have astounded us. To the faculty: your creativity and commitment are etched into every moment of tonight’s performance. And to our students—" her voice lifted, warm and proud— "this evening belongs to you. You have earned it." She stepped back. Applause rose like a wave, unforced and full. The lights shifted. The curtain trembled. And the show—finally—was about to begin.

Thanks Keiff, lots of information. My frustration was from spending time writing a thoughtful and helpful reply to a post. I was doing this live on the page, so perhaps extended time writing caused some kind of website setting to time out. The quick one line replies get through with no problems.

Wow, this was super entertaining. I loved the writing, there were some great lines that made me chuckle. Thank you!!

Spellbound at Littlewick Academy A story by SolaraScott Chapter 32 - Rune Mishap The training grounds stretched out under the late afternoon sun, a wide expanse of packed earth and sparse grass where the class gathered to practice runes. The air buzzed with energy from half-formed sigils and the occasional crackle of a misfired spell, but for Elara, the real heat came from the snickers and sidelong glances of her classmates. Every time she moved, whispers followed—some subtle, others less so—pointing out the pacifier clipped to her collar or the bulk under her skirt. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus on tracing the intricate lines of a protection rune in the dirt, but it was damn near impossible with all eyes on her. “Going to finish that last bottle soon, or ya just gonna stand there looking cute?” Quinn’s voice cut through her thoughts, teasing and loud enough for nearby students to smirk as she sauntered over. She’d been hovering most of the session, making sure everyone saw who was calling the shots today. “Told you, all three gotta be done before we head back. Don’t make me feed you right here.” Elara shot her a glare around the pacifier in her mouth, cheeks burning as she crouched to pick up the third bottle from where she’d dropped the second empty one beside it. “I’m drinking it, alright? Lay off,” she mumbled past the rubber nipple before pulling it out briefly to chug down a few gulps of juice. The sweet liquid hit her tongue—she didn’t even know where Quinn had scrounged up these bottles or why they were so insistent on her finishing them—but she wasn’t about to argue in front of an audience. As she lowered herself back to her spot on the ground to continue etching her rune, the soggy diaper beneath her skirt squished with the movement. The padding was heavy now, soaked from earlier and clinging to her skin, shifting uncomfortably between her thighs with every adjustment. The damp warmth pressed against her core, a constant reminder of how full it felt, and each squat or bend made the material bunch up awkwardly, rubbing in ways that kept her on edge despite herself. She tried to ignore it, dragging through another line of the rune. “Look at you, nursing that paci like a pro,” Quinn muttered close to her ear now, dropping down beside her under the pretense of checking her work. Her hand brushed Elara’s lower back—just above where the diaper sat snug—and gave a light pat. “Bet that soggy thing’s driving you nuts down there. Finish this rune quickly so I can change you after.” “Piss off,” Elara hissed low through clenched teeth, popping the pacifier back in place mostly to shut herself up before anyone overheard more. Her face was already red enough without adding fuel to their classmates’ amusement. She forced her shaky hands to steady, scratching out the last curve of the rune while juice sloshed in her gut alongside a growing pressure she didn’t wanna think about. “Don’t get mouthy,” Quinn chuckled, standing back up but not stepping away. “You got one more bottle left, and I ain’t letting ya slack on it. Keep sucking on that paci until you’re done—or I’ll swap it for something else you can nurse on right here in front of everyone.” Her grin was pure mischief as she tapped Elara’s shoulder. “Hurry up now. I’m getting impatient watching you squirm.” Elara bit down hard on the silicone nipple to keep from snapping back, feeling another small trickle escape into the already drenched padding as she shifted again. The sodden weight dragged heavier now, sagging slightly under her skirt and sticking everywhere it shouldn’t while she fought to focus through both humiliation and discomfort—and Quinn’s relentless hovering only made every second drag longer out here among all these prying eyes. A sharp crack split the air as a nearby rune misfired, sending a wild gust of wind ripping across the training grounds. Skirts fluttered up in a chaotic wave, Elara’s included, and her heart dropped as the heavy, sagging diaper beneath was exposed to the entire class. The sodden padding drooped noticeably lower than the others, its bulk unmistakable even from a distance, glistening faintly with how soaked it was. Around her, other girls yelped as their own padded undergarments flashed into view—some equally bulky, others less so—but it did fuck-all to lessen the burning shame crawling up Elara’s neck. Hers hung the heaviest, an undeniable beacon of her predicament, and she could feel every eye boring into her as she yanked her skirt back down with shaky hands. “Shit, nice view!” one guy called out with a snicker, earning a round of stifled laughs from a few others before the professor’s sharp bark cut through. “Focus, all of you! Control your damn runes!” The professor was already at the offending student’s side, quelling the rogue magic with a swift gesture while muttering corrections. The wind died down just as fast, leaving an awkward hush over the grounds. Elara crouched low to the dirt, face flaming as she forced her attention to her rune work—a basic encryption sigil meant to hide secrets within texts, creating phantom pages only certain eyes could see. She scratched unevenly through the final lines, hands trembling from both embarrassment and the squelching weight between her thighs. She could still hear whispers and chuckles behind her, each one like a needle pricking at what little dignity she had left out here. Beside her, Quinn didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “That was priceless,” she muttered, leaning close enough that her breath tickled Elara’s ear. “Your little soggy secret’s out now, huh? Bet they’re all wonderin’ how much more you can take before you burst.” “Shut it,” Elara hissed around the pacifier, barely audible as she glared daggers at her. “Just focus on your own shit.” “Oh, I am,” Quinn shot back with a smirk, twirling her stave lazily over her own rune—a conjuration sigil designed to summon liquid into empty containers. “Gonna get this working real soon. Imagine how handy it’ll be… filling up bottles, or hell, maybe something closer to ya if I’m feeling creative.” She winked, dragging her gaze pointedly down to where Elara’s skirt barely hid the bulging diaper. Elara’s stomach twisted at the implication. “Don’t you dare master that today,” she growled low, sucking harder on the pacifier to keep her voice from carrying. Her rune flickered briefly under her shaky grip, lines wobbling as another small trickle escaped into the already overburdened padding, making it sag even lower. She bit back a groan of discomfort while trying to steady her hand for one last stroke of the sigil. “Aw, don’t worry, I’ll be gentle if I do,” Quinn teased, scratching out another curve of her own rune with infuriating ease. “Finish that last bottle while you've got time. Might need you good and hydrated for what I’m planning once this clicks.” She nodded toward the final juice bottle sitting by Elara’s side, then leaned in even closer. “Hurry up with hiding your little text secrets. I want to see how red you get when everyone’s watching me check that droopy thing after class.” Elara’s jaw clenched, but she grabbed the bottle anyway, popping the pacifier out just long enough to chug down more juice. Elara watched, half-dreading, half-curious, as Quinn snatched up one of the empty bottles from the ground. Her fingers traced the surface with a deliberate stroke, eyes narrowing in focus as the rune’s energy hummed faintly. Within seconds, a pale red liquid shimmered into existence inside the bottle, filling it to the brim. Quinn’s face split into a triumphant grin—until the liquid surged out through the nipple in a wild spray. She yelped, fumbling and dropping the bottle as it spun across the training grounds, squirting everywhere like a rogue fire hose. “Fucking hell!” Quinn cursed under her breath, dodging a stream as it shot past her. Elara tried to shuffle out of the way, too, but she wasn’t fast enough. The spray hit her square on, soaking her skirt in cold, sticky juice that clung to her thighs and dripped down over the already sagging diaper beneath. The fabric darkened instantly, plastered against her skin as she froze in place, mortified. The professor stormed over, muttering a string of expletives before snatching up the spinning bottle mid-spray. With a sharp gesture, he quelled the magic, the liquid dribbling to a stop as he rounded on Quinn. “What did I say about pacing yourself? You’re not ready for output control yet! This could’ve been dangerous!” His glare was withering as he clutched the now-still bottle. “Sorry, sir,” Quinn mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck with an embarrassed grimace. “Got ahead of myself. Won’t happen again.” Her tone was sheepish enough to pass muster, though her eyes flicked to Elara with barely concealed amusement as the professor grunted and moved off to check on another student. Quinn turned fully to take in the sight of Elara standing there, skirt drenched and clinging awkwardly over the bulging diaper. Her lips pursed for a moment before splitting into a smirk she couldn’t quite hide. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she said, though her voice carried more tease than regret. “But damn, I can’t leave you in a wet skirt like that. It’s warm enough out anyway—go ahead and take it off.” “You’ve gotta be kidding,” Elara snapped, staring at her like she’d grown a second head. Her arms crossed tight over her chest, pacifier bobbing slightly as she spoke around it. The soaked fabric felt heavy against her legs, but no way was she stripping out here. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” Quinn shot back, planting a hand on her hip with that infuriating tilt of her head. “Babies don’t have modesty, sweetheart. No reason you need a skirt right now. Come on, drop it, Missy. Don’t make me do it for you.” Elara’s jaw clenched hard, heat flooding her cheeks as she glanced around. A few classmates were already sneaking looks after the bottle fiasco, whispering behind hands or staves while pretending to focus on their runes. The soggy diaper under her skirt felt heavier by the second, squishing between her thighs with every tiny shift, but taking off the only thing covering it? Out here? Her stomach churned at the thought. “You’re insane if you think—” she started, voice low and sharp, but Quinn cut her off with a step closer. “Insane or not, I ain’t letting you stand there in wet clothes,” she said, dropping her tone just enough to sound almost reasonable—if not for that glint in her eye. “Skirt’s coming off one way or another. You want to do it quick ‘n’ quiet, or you want me tugging it down while everyone’s watching me play mommy again?” Elara bit down on the pacifier so hard it nearly squeaked, glaring daggers but feeling the weight of those nearby stares pressing harder now. The sticky juice was starting to itch where it dried on her skin, mixing with the damp mess of her diaper in all kinds of uncomfortable ways. “Fine,” she hissed finally, barely audible. “But you’re an asshole for this.” “Don’t I know it,” Quinn chuckled low, stepping back just enough to give her space but keeping close like a hawk waiting for prey. “Go on then. Drop it. Unless ya want me helping after all?” Elara didn’t dignify that with an answer, fingers trembling as they fumbled with the waistband of her soaked skirt. She turned slightly, trying to angle away from prying eyes, and shoved it down quickly over her hips until it pooled at her ankles. Stepping out felt like shedding armor—the thick, drooping diaper was fully exposed now, hanging low between pale thighs, its swollen bulk glistening faintly where dampness had seeped through spots near overloaded tabs. A couple of gasps and stifled laughs rippled nearby despite Quinn’s half-assed attempt to stand in front of her. Elara’s face burned hotter than ever, hands twitching to cover herself but knowing it’d only draw more attention. “There we go,” Quinn purred under her breath once done appraising openly herself now too—no shame whatsoever—as picked up discarded garment casually twirling sopping cloth round finger briefly afore tossing aside onto grass heap unceremoniously. “Much better without all that clingy shit hiding my handiwork anyway...” “Fuck off already!” Elara growled. Quinn’s gaze raked over Elara’s exposed diaper, lingering on the sagging bulk with a slow, appraising smirk. “Looks like I got juice on that too,” she murmured, stepping closer with a tilt of her head. “Didn’t even realize until now.” Elara glanced down, her stomach dropping as she saw the front of the padding stained a faint red from the earlier spray. Her hands flew to cover herself, cheeks flaming, but before she could shield much, Quinn was right there, brushing her hands aside with a firm nudge. “Lie down,” she ordered, voice low but carrying that edge that left no room for argument. “I’ll get you changed.” “Right here!?” Elara’s eyes widened, her voice cracking with disbelief as she glanced around at the scattered classmates still milling about on the training grounds. A few were already stealing looks, smirks tugging at their lips. “Would you rather me slap another diaper over top this mess?” Quinn shot back, one eyebrow arching as she slung the diaper bag off her shoulder and dropped it beside them. “Could do that instead—let you waddle around even bulkier. Your call.” Elara’s face burned hotter, her jaw tightening as she shook her head quickly. The thought of double padding out here was somehow worse. With a defeated huff, she lowered herself onto the grass, the cool blades prickling against her bare thighs as she lay back. The snickers from nearby students grew louder now, a couple of whispers cutting through as they openly watched. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, trying to block it all out. “Relax,” Quinn muttered, kneeling beside her and unzipping the bag. “Ain’t nothing they haven’t seen by now anyway.” Her hands moved fast but deliberate, popping open the tabs of the soaked diaper with a loud rip that seemed to echo across the field. The damp material peeled away from Elara’s skin, leaving her exposed to the warm air—and every pair of eyes nearby—as a fresh wave of sticky heat clung where it had been pressed tight for so long. Elara groaned under her breath, barely audible as she felt Quinn lift her hips slightly to slide the used diaper out from under her. The sensation of being bare down there in public made her skin crawl with shame, especially as a couple of girls nearby let out muffled giggles while pretending to focus on their runes. “Quit squirmin’,” Quinn said with a smirk, grabbing a pack of wipes and dragging one slowly across Elara’s sensitive skin. The cool cloth grazed every inch, wiping away the sticky residue of juice and dampness with teasing precision. “Look at this mess—you really soaked through.” “Can you just hurry up?” Elara snapped quietly, her voice trembling despite herself as another wipe brushed lower, lingering just enough to make her twitch. “Not rushing when I got an audience,” Quinn chuckled low, tossing the used wipe aside and reaching for a fresh diaper from the bag. “Gotta make sure my girl’s all clean and comfy first.” She unfolded the new padding with a crinkle that cut through the murmurs around them, sliding it under Elara’s hips before dusting a light layer of powder over her skin. The faint scent hit the air as Quinn rubbed it in with slow circles, her touch grazing close enough to sensitive spots to draw a stifled gasp. “Stop playing around,” Elara muttered through gritted teeth, feeling every nerve light up despite—or maybe because of—the humiliation burning through her. “Almost done,” Quinn replied, voice dripping with amusement as she pulled the front of the diaper up snug between her legs and secured the tabs tight on either side. The fresh padding hugged her close, dry and soft compared to before, though its bulk still sat obviously and thick without a skirt to hide it. “There we go—nice and fresh, for now.” Elara pushed herself up fast once it was done, sitting cross-legged on the grass to at least partially shield herself from view. Minus a skirt, she felt more exposed than ever, bare thighs framing the stark white diaper that practically screamed for attention amidst curious glances still darting their way. “C’mon,” Quinn said, slinging the bag back over her shoulder and offering a hand to pull her up. “Back to class now—rune ain’t going to finish itself. And don’t gimme that look; you’re drier than you were five minutes ago.” “Still hate you,” Elara grumbled as she took the hand and stood, brushing grass off her legs while hyper-aware of how little was covered by her dress below the waist. The new diaper crinkled loudly with each step toward her spot on the grounds, drawing yet more stifled laughs from peers as she returned to her practice. What had she been thinking in giving Quinn this much power… All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott

Oh yess the intended adopter would not have been ideal 😅 thank you for your comment!!! 💜 LOL I know right? I 100% would do it 😆 Hopefully Adam and Boja can come around on the idea. Thank you!! 💕 I hope your health improves!!  🤭 hehehe she's smart enough to navigate him, but Kang certainly isn't above it. Thank you for the comment!! 🧡 Yeah that's a good goal once he's through the upcoming tribulations 🤞thank you for your comment!! 💙