Who Can I Request?

Who can I request?

I'll keep it short and sweet!

Request Away For...

↪ATEEZ ↪BTS ↪NCT ↪SEVENTEEN ↪Stray Kids ↪The Boyz

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Alas! I have returned

Hi!!!

It has been quite a long time since I was feeling up to writing and of course, the duties of adulthood which have prevented me from focusing on my less-known hobbies. I figured now was an as good time as any to get into writing, as my newfound hyper fixations are hyper-fixating away ~

You'll notice (if you've kept up with my blog at even a microscopic level) that themes have changed, tags are renewed and of course some new additions to the potential people/characters I am writing!

Who can I request? ...FAQ...

The two links above will provide all the information you need to ask for requests. Please don't hesitate to bombard my ask box, the more the merrier!

if you’re a white creator and your brown/black characters are always sassy, reckless, aggressive or cold and your white characters are always soft, demure, shy and introverted you should think about maybe why you did that

I had a dream that the king and the queen of a small country had a daughter. They needed a son, a first-born son, so in secret, without telling anyone of their child’s gender, they travelled to the nearby woods that were rumoured to house a witch.

They made a deal with that witch. They wanted a son, and they got one. A son, one made out of clay and wood, flexible enough to grow but sturdy enough to withstand its destined path, enchanted to look like a human child. The witch asked for only one thing, and that was for their daughter.

They left the girl readily.

The witch raised her as her own, and called her Thyme. The princess grew up unknowing of her heritage, grew up calling the witch Mama, and the witch did her very best to earn that title.

She was taught magic, and how to forage in the woods, how to build sturdy wooden structures and how to make the most delicious stews. The girl had a good life, and the witch was pleased.

The girl grew into a woman, and learned more and more powerful magics, grew stronger from hauling wood and stones and animals to cook, grew smarter as the witch taught her more.

She learned to deal with the people in the villages nearby, learned how to brew remedies and medicines and how to treat illness and injury, and learned how to tell when someone was lying. 

Every time the pair went into town, the people would remark at just how similar Thyme was to her mother. 

(Thyme does not know who and what she is. She does not know that she was born a princess, that she was sold. She only knows that one night after her mother read her a story about princesses and dragons, her mother had asked her if she ever wanted to be a princess.)

((Thyme only knows that she very quickly answered no. She likes being a witch, thank you very much, she likes the power that comes with it and the way that she can look at things and know their true nature.))

The witch starts preparing the ritual early, starts collecting the necessities in the winter so they can be ready by the fall equinox. Her daughter helps, and does not ask what this is for, just knows that it is important.

The witch looks at Thyme, both their hands raised into the air over a complicated array of plants, tended carefully to grow into a circle, and says, sorry.

Keep reading

Imagine these with your bias

any other writers out there ever read a paragraph of your own work and just, in the least self centered way possible, think

fuck, i’m such a good writer.

if you haven’t, that day will come eventually, i promise. but until then, keep writing whatever your little working brain tells you, because one day you’ll consider it a masterpiece or absolute shit that’ll make you laugh and realize just how far you’ve come.

keep writing words so your future self has stuff to look back on and either compare to current wips, or to reminisce on. words are permanent as long as you let them be.