#Thank you for the ask 🩵 I can always rely on you :)

[lyn31]

Hi! Your writing is amazing and wholesome! I have a request if you don’t mind.

Can you write one where MC is visually paired/blind and feels guilty for relying on Zayne to take care of her? Like she’s no longer employed as a hunter and needs a lot of help with day to day things. MC feels like she’s burdening Zayne but he’s happy she trusts him to rely on him.

This could be amazing as a hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending piece. Thank you for your time! 🩵

Thank youuuuu 💕 I'm glad you're enjoying my writing but also how are you guys saying my writing is so wholesome and then asking just the saddest thing 🥹 and here I am enabling you guys ahahahaha

But anyway, what a request, from someone with such a shit eyes and cannot do anything without my glasses, losing my sight is one of the thing I'm afraid the most... So this was really hitting me... Although it wouldn't be the same, I try my best! Hope you like it! 🥹🫶��� Let me know what you think! 💕

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Seeing You

Summary

After a mission leaves you in the dark, with only the sound of your own breath to anchor you, Zayne is there—steady, patient, and always present—even when you can’t see him. You’re learning to navigate the silence, the hesitation in your steps, and the quiet adjustments he makes to help you find your way, but the weight of needing him still feels too heavy.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader CW: Losing eyesight, adjusting emotional and physically, hurt/comfort, establish relationship, sad and sweet!

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It’s been three months since that mission. Three months since the blast knocked you backward. It went dark—and stayed dark.

No light. No outlines. No vague movement. Just the memory of color and the sound of your own breath in the void it left behind.

You’re curled up on the couch now, knees tucked under your chin, your fingers absently worrying at the hem of your sweater. You’re still not used to the silence—not the real kind, but the kind that comes when you can’t anchor yourself to anything. You can’t scan your surroundings. You can’t gauge the time by the position of the sun through the windows. You can’t even see Zayne, though you know he’s there.

You hear the soft click of the stove turning off. The scent of shrimps and roasted vegetables still hangs in the air, rich and warm and a little bit sweet—he made your favorite again, not that you’d asked. You don’t really ask for anything these days.

A gentle scrape of a spoon against ceramic, the low thud of a cabinet closing. He moves around the kitchen quietly, but not in a way that hides him. You can always tell where he is now—by the soft brush of his clothes when he passes, the steadiness of his breathing, the tiny pauses he makes when he’s about to speak but lets you take the lead instead.

You shift, reaching out for the coffee table you know is just a foot or so away, fingertips hovering in the air like you’re afraid of touching wrong. You’ve done that more than once—brushed too hard, bumped too fast, knocked over whatever he’d set down for you.

You pull your hand back and curl into yourself instead.

You used to be a Hunter. You used to walk into danger without flinching, shout orders without second-guessing. Now you hesitate before every step, memorize the number of paces from the couch to the kitchen, trace the edges of every wall and object like they’re foreign terrain.

And Zayne—he just keeps showing up. Cooking meals. Leaving your mug always in the same spot. Letting you listen to the news through his holoscreen instead of reading reports. Helping you dress without saying a word about it, even though you know he notices when you pause—fingers lingering over the curve of your waist or the scar near your collarbone, trying to remember what you look like now.

You hate needing this much. You hate how fragile it makes you feel.

You sink deeper into the cushions and let out a breath that feels too heavy for your chest.

Zayne doesn’t say anything. Just sets a bowl on the coffee table—gently, like he knows you’re listening—and walks around to sit beside you. The couch dips under his weight. His presence radiates calm, a low thrum of quiet strength, and part of you wants to lean into it. But you don’t.

Because he’s still whole. And you… you don’t know what you are anymore.

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The kitchen still smells like the meal Zayne made earlier. You’d insisted on rinsing the dishes yourself, even after your hand brushed the edge of a plate too fast and sent it clattering. That one hadn’t broken. This one does.

You’re trying to find the sink. Your fingers skim the counter, the edge of the drying rack, too fast, too eager to prove you still can. And then—

Glass hits tile.

It shatters loud, sharp, immediate.

Somewhere beneath your ribs, your breath catches. You freeze.

And then the tears start. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just this slow, helpless stream that slips out before you can pull yourself together. You press your palm flat to the countertop, jaw trembling, but the pressure doesn’t ground you like it’s supposed to.

You don’t even hear Zayne coming.

One moment you’re alone, holding your breath like you can rewind time if you just stay still. The next, he’s there.

You feel the air shift before you hear the soft rustle of his sleeves, the quiet clink as he picks up the larger pieces, careful and methodical.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, though your voice cracks. “I didn’t cut myself.”

But he doesn’t take your word for it. His hands find yours gently, his cool touch steady against your skin—unmistakably him. His thumbs brush across your knuckles as he turns them over, checking for blood. You feel his breath when he exhales, low and steady, like he’s trying to pass the calm into you.

And maybe that’s what undoes you.

“I hate this,” you manage, your voice tight, hoarse with the effort not to break further. “I can’t do anything, Zayne. You’re always cleaning up after me. I can’t fight. I can’t even walk across the room without bumping into something.”

You expect silence. Or worse—reassurance that sounds like pity. But when Zayne answers, his voice is low and even, every word weighted with quiet conviction.

“You don’t have to fight for anyone right now,” he says. “You just have to let yourself heal.”

You open your mouth—to argue, maybe. But he’s not finished.

“And I’m not cleaning up after you,” he adds, his hands still around yours. “I’m just… here. With you.”

His tone doesn’t shift, doesn’t soften with sympathy or hesitation. It’s not a line he practiced, or a comfort he thinks you want. It’s just truth. Plain and steady.

You don’t know what to say to that. Not yet. But you lean forward, forehead pressing into his shoulder, and he lets you stay there as long as you need.

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You’ve stopped asking.

Not just for the little things, but for the bigger ones, too. Not like before, when the silence came from grief. Now it’s sharper—calculated. You tell yourself if you just manage on your own, even a little, you’ll stop feeling so heavy in the space between you and Zayne.

It’s not that you don’t need help—god, you do—but there’s something in you that can’t bear the sound of your own voice when you ask for it. When you ask where something is, when you hear the pause in Zayne’s breathing because he knows you’re trying to do it alone again.

You’ve memorized every corner of the apartment now. Counted the steps between walls. Traced the edges of cabinets and drawers like braille. And still, you trip. You reach too far. You knock things down.

You never say anything when it happens. Just sweep up what you can and pretend nothing’s wrong.

Until tonight.

Zayne’s shift ran late. You told him not to worry, that you’d be fine, that you might even be asleep when he got back. But sleep doesn’t come. Only noise—quiet and sharp—the kind glass makes when it slips from trembling fingers and meets tile.

You’re on the floor when he walks in. Knees tucked underneath you, hands moving gently over the broken dish like you could will it back together by touch alone. Your fingers skim each shard carefully, as if mapping it with memory might fix the cracks.

You don’t even look up when the door opens.

You whisper, like you’ve been holding the words in for hours.

“I thought if I just tried harder…” Your voice is barely audible. “Maybe I wouldn’t need you so much.”

Zayne doesn’t speak right away. No gasp, no rush to fix it. Just the soft thud of his coat sliding off, the quiet tap of shoes being set aside, and then—

He kneels beside you. Not in front of you, not across—just next to you.

His hands find yours gently. Thumb brushing the back of your wrist, then his fingers closing around yours to ease the shards from your grip. You feel the sting now—tiny cuts you didn’t notice in your panic, dull and blooming with heat.

Still, he doesn’t scold. Doesn’t even sigh.

He just wraps his arms around you, slowly, like he’s giving you time to lean in if you want to. You do.

“You’re not weak for needing someone,” he says, voice low against your ear. “You’re brave for letting me in. For trusting me with this part of you.”

You press your face into his shoulder and breathe—finally, deeply, like your chest had been locked shut for days.

“You are never a burden,” Zayne murmurs. “If anything, I’m grateful you let me be here.”

He holds you tighter—not caging, just certain.

“You’re still you,” he adds. “You always will be.”

You don’t answer right away. Your throat aches too much to speak, and your hands are still trembling. But you nod, barely, and he feels it.

He stays with you on the floor until the shaking stops. Until your breathing slows. Until you’re ready to let him help you up—not because you can’t, but because you don’t have to do it alone.

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It’s been weeks since that night on the floor. Weeks since you let Zayne pull you close and whisper the words you needed to hear, the words you didn’t know you were waiting for.

Things don’t always feel easier, but they feel different now—less like the weight of your injury is pulling you under, and more like you’re learning how to breathe again. Zayne’s been a constant, never pushing, always there with quiet reassurance and those small adjustments that mean more than you ever expected.

He’s marked the apartment with subtle cues—soft fabric along the edge of the counter so you can feel it with your fingertips, a slight texture on the edge of the hallway wall that helps guide you without needing to ask. He’s arranged things so you can always find what you need without fumbling too long. The light switch for the bathroom has a tiny bump on it, and the door to the bedroom has a narrow line of tape so you know where it opens.

It’s not about making you reliant on him—it’s about helping you find a new way to move, to navigate.

And then there’s the audio device. You don’t know exactly when he got it, but one day he’s setting it up on the desk, programming it with your Hunter files. You can still help with missions, still offer advice, analyze strategy—all with just your voice. He never calls it retirement. Always, it’s a new way to fight.

It’s not the same as holding a blade or charging into the field, but your voice still cuts through static, still steadies others when they’re lost. Maybe it was never about the way you fought—maybe it was always about why.

You’ll never get used to how much he sees you, even when you can’t see yourself.

Today, you’re standing in the living room, fingers tracing the edge of the couch. The room is quiet, but it’s a good quiet. The kind that means you’re not trying to force yourself into something you’re not anymore. You’re just… moving forward.

You reach out instinctively. You know the kitchen is just a few steps away, and you trust the path Zayne’s mapped for you. One step, two steps, and then—

The edge of the doorway. Your shoulder brushes the frame but doesn’t slam into it. Not this time.

You stop. A soft laugh escapes you, more of a breath than anything, and you take another step, slowly, just to test it. And then you do laugh, quietly, like it’s a secret you’re finally letting go of.

“That’s the first time I didn’t smack into the doorway,” you say, almost in disbelief.

You pause, listening. Zayne’s footsteps are familiar now—the soft tap of his sandals against the floor, the subtle shift in the air when he’s near. And then, you feel him there, close enough that his warmth almost brushes against you.

Without a word, his lips find your temple, pressing gently, a quiet reassurance that you don’t need to see to feel. His presence wraps around you, steady and constant.

“Proud of you,” he murmurs, voice low and sure. “Told you—you’ve never stopped moving forward.”

You let the words settle, his touch grounding you in a way that’s become as familiar as his voice. You can’t see him, but you can feel him in everything—his pride, his belief in you, the quiet patience that’s helped you find your footing again.

And maybe, just maybe, in this moment, you’re starting to believe in yourself again too.

The days are different now. The apartment feels smaller somehow, not in a suffocating way, but like it’s been rearranged, reorganized—not just by Zayne, but by the new rhythm of your life. You’re adjusting, one step at a time. And it doesn’t hurt as much anymore to ask for help, to trust that you’re not a burden. You’ve found a way to move with it, to move with him.

But today, Zayne’s quiet about something.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the process of organizing some files on the desk that you hear his footsteps shift on the floor, the faint sound of him standing still just to your side. His voice breaks the quiet, steady and calm. “Pack a bag. We’re going somewhere.”

You pause, fingers stilling on the papers. “Where?”

“Just trust me.”

The bags are packed without much question. A couple of hours later, you’re in the back of the car, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the air between you. You don’t ask more questions. You just let him drive, let him take you wherever it is he’s planned for you. When you reach the cottage, the quiet of the countryside surrounds you like a soft blanket.

It’s peaceful. Still.

And when you step out of the car, the air smells different—fresher, richer, filled with the scent of trees and earth. Your fingers brush through the grass as you step forward, the slight give beneath your feet grounding you in a way the city never could.

Zayne’s there to guide you, his hand just a breath away, his touch cool and steady as it always is. He doesn’t say much, letting the place speak for itself.

He leads you slowly, guiding you toward the water. You hear it before you feel it—the soft, rhythmic lapping just ahead—and that’s when you stop, sinking to the ground. Not falling this time—just grounding yourself, steady on your own feet. Zayne follows, settling beside you in the grass.

The air is warmer here, touched by the water’s presence. You can’t see it, but you feel it—the subtle pull of the surface, the gentle ripple that hums through the space like a heartbeat. You reach out beside you, and his hand finds yours without hesitation. Cool, steady, familiar. His fingers wrap around yours like an answer.

“You don’t have to see to know you’re in the right place,” Zayne says quietly, his voice like the rest of the world—calm, patient, and full of certainty.

You nod, letting your fingers drift out to feel the warmth of the air on your skin, then moving up to trace the curve of his jaw. His face is familiar beneath your touch, every line etched in a way that’s become a part of you. Your breath catches for just a moment, the weight of everything you’ve been through settling over you.

“As long as you’re here, I already know,” you whisper, feeling the words more than speaking them.

Zayne’s other hand moves to yours, stilling it for a moment, then pulling you gently against him. His lips brush your temple, light and soft like a promise.

“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs, his voice deep, steady. “Always.”

You don’t need to see it to know it’s true. The world is full of so much more than what you can see. The warmth, the trust, the unspoken bond between you—it’s all here. In this moment. And for the first time in a long while, it feels like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

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Notes

Before I got teary eyes, this one is water work 😭 I cannot even imagine... too scary man, and I know I'm the one writing their exact reaction and dialogue but man... Zayne... where do I find this man??? He's not outside that's for damn sure 😦 I say it before but I really am my biggest fans, I like my joke, I like my story first so yk 😩🤣 Alright serious now, hopefully y'all enjoy this 💕

[finnfrei]

I would love to hear more about your bard and her dragonborn 🥺👉👈

Aww, thank you so much for asking! Tbh, I always feel shy sharing the stories of my OCs, so I really appreciate your interest🩵

Where do I even begin? (Also, English is not my first or even second language, so I apologize for my poor writing in advance).

Clio is my changeling bard from our current homebrew DnD campaign and she’s the little ray of sunshine, who’s hiding her trauma behind a cheerful innocent smile. Or at least she used to be up until the party’s current adventure in Avernus. Quite early in life she realized how easy it is to lure secrets from people, when you look cute and play dumb.

Once she set out on an adventure with the party, she had a dream. A charming stranger in a dragon mask at a ball challenged her to play a complex composition. Non of what she saw on the music sheet he gave her made sense, it couldn’t sound good. But Clio was not the one to fuck around with and she started playing, struggling at first, but getting the grip of it. As the music played, the dirty secrets of people in the room started to reveal themselves to her overflowing her mind. The man asked her to meet him in the house of upper city where the party was headed.

That was how she met him, the man in the mask wasn’t a man she saw in the dream, but an emerald Dragonborn. Hescan was a commander of Secret Police and Master of College of Whispers. This tough mountain of muscles with cold gaze and devious grin was barely showing any genuine emotions. It felt familiar, she’s so used to putting on a mask herself, different ones, but still. He played cool and unbothered. Some even might say he looked dangerous, but Clio had met dangerous, cruel men way too many times before and wasn’t so easily fooled by him. She found it adorable on him. The feeling of safety around him puzzled her. He suggested her to work for him, collecting information, dragging skeletons out of others closets. She thought it would be fun to finally get paid for something she does anyway, never taking the job too seriously though. And well, girl asked for the direction of the nearest brothel, hoping to get some intelligence from local prostitutes, knowing full well about the amount of secrets kept by all the creatures, who aren’t taken seriously by rich and powerful. However, the dragonborn jokingly suggested her his bedroom. Joke got out of control. Bards being bards, I guess.

It all started with both of them trying to get intimate, “have fun” just to let down the other’s guard to get under their skin and lure more secrets from each other. Learn each other’s weaknesses, but also trying to secure the other’s loyalty. Hescan was playing cool and distant, meanwhile Clio was taunting him any time she saw an opportunity, shamelessly trying the limits of his patience. She liked to call him “pretty boy” and only called him “chief” in jest, he knew it also turned her on.

Eventually the more they learned the more they started to genuinely care about one another. They both knew what it was like feeling your body, your boundaries violated, used for someone else’s sick whims. They found comfort, they knew they were safe with each other, even if just for the night. Although they both had a hard time admitting it. After all it would mean to admit they had lost the game.

Now with a few years passed, they still have hard time fully trusting each other, given their occupation. She still makes fun of him, he finds it cute. He knows he can rely on her, so as she does.

There were so many sweet and funny moments between these two and to be honest the scenes where they admitted their feelings to each other, letting down their guards, live rent free in my mind.

[skzot8forever]

Okay first I love your bots but man are they dangerous... In a good way 😅... So I have a request maybe if your willing for an older fem ninth member x skz where she always doting on them and taking care of them weather it cooking for them or cleaning up after them. Just enjoy her time as the "mom" in group. until one day she get hurts and has to be taken care and relie them for a change..... Please and thank you 👏🥰

aw loved this ask! thanks for requesting! 🩵

You were the noona that every fanboy wish they had. The other members of Stray Kids, your dongsaengs, felt incredibly lucky to have you not only as part of the team with your amazing talents, but also the care and humanity you showed them since the very first moment you met them.

Whether it was cooking meals for them when they were too tired to do it themselves, or always knowing the exact moment when they needed a hug, you had everyone's back. You doted on them on the daily, cleaned up after their messes sometimes too. The staff were always pleased to see you when schedules would differ, as they knew the chaos would be a bit more managed.

Bang Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin all looked up to you as their noona, you being the oldest in the group. They would protect you with any chance they got - which was rare, considering how nurturing you were.

It wasn't until you were filming an episode of SKZ Code, Han Edition, that the guys were able to step in after you accidentally hurt yourself. Everyone, apart from Jeongin, was joyously dressed up as a cute Teenieping. All nine of you were sat around a table and excited to be at the Haidilao viral hotpot restaurant and to pick the foods you wanted in your very own hotpot. Naturally, you took charge in placing the ingredients into the hot water, however it was unfortunate that part of your outfit got caught inside the deep, metal boiling pots with scalding water. Just as the hot water came to a boil, it bubbled up and splashed onto your hand. You immediately stood up in pain and cried out. It took Seungmin's quick thinking of suddenly yanking your sleeve that freed your hand from the cause of its pain.

It didn't stop you from clutching your hand against you in shock at the redness of the burn now appearing. The boys were surrounding you trying to make sure you were ok and the staff and camera crew were also worried, trying to find a way to turn off the hotpots just in case of anymore incidents.

"{{user}} noona? Are you okay?!"

If you want to chat with this bot you can here! Or if you want to explore more bots then my c.ai account is @/skzot8forever! Asks are also open if you have any bot requests!

[bluesidez]

OKAY I HAD TO HIT YOU W THIS BC I NEED THIS TO COME TRUE 🗣🗣‼️‼️

AcademicRival!Miguel x AcademicRival!reader

where they will do quite literally ANYTHING (legally) POSSIBLE to one up each other.

whether their petty rivalry began in high school or first year of uni/college, IDC- but they absolutely despise each other.

and!!! at some point down the track, they forgot why they were beefing in the first place, only for it to start stemming from a place of 'jealousy' (yk how sometimes jealousy is actually feelings of romantic interest in disguise,, yeah, that) and it gets to the point where they are quite literally making it all their friends' problem bc of it.

like i can imagine reader drinking something that Miguel sees and Miguel going 'i need to have this all the time and sell it out so reader can never have any' and Peter is like '???', or reader finding out Miguel got a certain mark and goes 'nobody speak to me for a month i have to understand everything about quantum physics before that smug asshole opens his mouth' and Jess is like '??? just kiss, fym??'

and then they finally have a moment where they have no choice but to rely on each other- whether Miguel's car breaks down on the side of the road reader happens to drive by and she takes him to his, or if reader desperately needs help in a situation and immediately calls him bc she knows he'll pick up bc she needs scary dog privileges and thats HIM so then they end up having a moment of reflection together with either super fluffy smut or absolute debauchery and fluffy aftercare i totally dont mind either way.

IDK do you know what i mean??? 🫣🫢🤭

anyway LY BLUE-BLUE, thank yew for letting me ramble on 🤍🩵

Are you asking me to write this? 🧐 (I shall add it to the pending ideas list just for you 🐰🩵)

I wrote that as a reply as soon as you sent it, but now I have more ideas that I wanna yap about to go along with this.

SO!! You already have a rivals, enemies to lovers trope going on. What better way to make it even more fun than to add the stoic x chatty dynamic???

Like I’m imagining the reader and Miguel first meeting in middle or high school. He’s a transfer student that’s immediately making the top grades and people are like where tf did he come from?? Reader doesn’t really think anything of it, she just carries on with her school life, chatting away (and getting in on the gossip about Miguel).

It’s not until he ends up in the same class with reader one semester (probably in high school) that reader is finally able to be in close contact with him. He’s so quiet and a little boring, but there’s always random girls coming in and out of the classroom to attempt to chat to him.

They’re always bringing snacks or sweets for him. He always turns them down with a “No thank you. I don’t like chocolate.” type of response. (What he thinks to be polite and cordial)

The guys in the class think he’s a huge jerk. The girls in the class still fond over him. You think he’s an oddball, a weirdo. But you really have no solid information to justify it.

It’s not until one day that the teacher asks this obscure question that he pisses you off. (I havent thought of a weird question yet tho). Everyone else has given crude or stupid answers, riling each other up and joking. You raise your head to give the most out-of-the-box, yet plausible answer that leaves the teacher impressed and the class laughing in shock. Miguel scoffs and debunks it so fast, that you start to feel like one of his rejected groupies. If you thought the laughter for your answer was loud, the laughter for his sounds like the crowd in a football stadium.

You’re embarrassed but you don’t really show it. You just brush it off and joke with everyone else like usual.

Then, one of the class’s first huge tests come. You’re gunning for the number 1 spot although you figure it won’t be too hard with half of the room being class clowns and the other half not giving af. You read over the material once and already have a good grasp on it, so you joke around with everyone else. There’s rap battles and TT routines. You guys even manage to get the teacher in on some of them. From the front of the room, you can see Miguel glancing back at you with such a sour look on his face. Wtf was his deal??

Test day finally comes. You’re the first to turn yours in with a smug smile on your face. You even take a nap until the next bell.

You’re on cloud nine for about a good week. Although, every time you open your mouth in class, Miguel looks like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Then, the time came for the teacher to hand out the papers. He was pretty theatrical and loved to announce who got the highest score.

You were gearing up for him to say your name. And you don’t know of you’re crazy, but you’re certain your mom didn’t put “Miguel O’Hara” on your school registration form.

You frown as you come back to reality, watching as teacher handed him is paper. From your seat, you can see the bright red 100 in the corner, a smiley face to adorn it.

Then the teacher hands you your paper. A 99.5. Just 0.5 points from a perfect score. And what you got points taken off for is something so ridiculous that you could scream.

You can see him in your peripheral as you chat with the other students about the answers. Just as you discuss your silly mistake you take a small look at him. He has a faint smirk on his face, as if to laugh at your downfall.

From then on, you decide that it’s a war.

[and obviously, the story would travel with them as they grow. Once they’re adults, I can imagine Miguel to still be this same stoic, yet more approachable person who has had a ROSTER of hookups and a reader who’s still so flirty and chatty, yet can’t find a good partner to save their life. The dynamic of him knowing exactly how to make reader feel good verses reader being overwhelmed for once would be sooooo good]

What do you think Lexie-bun?? 🥸

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil 😇🩵

WIP Wednesday (9/11) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 232)

"You know, it's sort of funny," Neil starts off. And by the tone of his voice, Andrew can tell whatever he's about to say isn't the slightest bit funny. "I didn't know this would be my forever outfit when I put it on that morning. You know? I had no idea I was going to die that night. I guess if I had known, I wouldn't be dead at all. I would've just ordered take out instead of going to that diner."

Andrew turns to look at the angel, "Diner?"

"The one where they caught up with me," Neil answers, keeping his eyes on his work. “I was on my way back to my motel room when they grabbed me. My last meal was a greasy burger and some half-cooked fries. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Andrew confirms, making Neil exhale pitifully. He watches Neil's fingers as he finishes up the sewing. It doesn't take him very long at all. Within a couple minutes, he's tying off the thread and using his teeth to cut it in two.

Neil starts to pull the hoodie back on and Andrew has to hold in a disappointed sigh. Watching Neil's skin disappear under gray fabric must be punishment for something he doesn't remember doing. Luckily, he's got his perfect memory to rely on. He can look at Neil's scars anytime he closes his eyes.

"Ta-da," Neil says with a smile, showing off his newly-fixed shirt like he's a fashion model. Andrew thinks in another life, Neil could've been a model. He has the cheekbones for it. The eyes. The hands. The everything. He makes that potato sack of a hoodie look good, at least to Andrew.

"It looks good on you," slips out of Andrew's mouth. When Neil's mouth quirks, Andrew curses himself for being born with a tongue. "I mean, since you're stuck with it forever. At least it looks good on you."

"Mm. Thanks for this," Neil says, holding out the sewing kit. Andrew lets Neil drop it into his hand and curls his fingers around it to absorb the residual warmth. Neil tests out his newly-patched pocket and seems satisfied. "It's good as new. Not like I have to carry anything in it. But it's good to know I have options."

"Do you get hot wearing it all the time?" Andrew asks abruptly.

"In the summer I did. It was hot as shit up here. But now that it's November, it's pretty comfortable most of the time." Neil tells him. "Why?"

"Can you change clothes?" Andrew asks suddenly. "Or is that really your forever outfit?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't tried."

"Why not?"

"I don't have anything else to put on," Neil says with a shrug. "Everything I had was in my bag in... Well, I actually have no idea where it would be now. I doubt Lola or Romero brought my duffel along. So it probably just ended up in a trash heap somewhere."

Andrew catches a new deal about Neil's past and grabs onto it with his teeth. "Lola and Romero?"

Neil freezes. "I don't want to talk about them."

"All right," Andrew says simply. He's got a mile long list of people he never wants to speak of again, so get gets it. He won't press. (Not now anyway.) But he'll definitely add those two names to the Neil Folder he keeps in his head. Maybe he'll pay a visit to good ol' Mr. Google later and see what turns up. "You could always get new clothes, you know."

"Yeah. I've thought about it. I'm invisible, after all. Even if I wasn't, it wouldn't be too hard to swipe some things here and there," Neil says, like he's used to shoplifting. "But there's cameras everywhere nowadays. I don't wanna get caught. Can't really explain a floating pair of pants, you know?"

Andrew nods. He supposes that makes for an interesting problem. One that's easily solved. "If I got you some other clothes, would you wear them?"

Neil's expression flickers into something strange. "I guess so. But... Why would you wanna waste money on a dead man? I'm fine in this."

"Maybe I'm tired of looking at gray," Andrew offers. It's a weak explanation and complete bullshit, but it's all he's got. He looks Neil up and down. "What size are you anyhow?"

"Uh," Neil looks a bit clueless. Then he twists the hoodie around until he can check the tag. Andrew's eyes are drawn to the bit of skin peeking from under it. "This one's a large."

Since it's very obviously too big for him, Andrew makes a mental note to buy Neil a few medium-sized shirts. Then he reconsiders it. What if something tighter irritated his scars? Begrudgingly, Andrew erases his last mental note. Size large it is.

[berryhobii]

Hiiiii i just absolutely love your work and your representation for us black fans/readers thank u sm!!! im also extremely obsessed with Late for Work couple but this could go for any of the couples. im not sure if youre still taking requests (if not im so sorry not trying to be pushy kdjsks) but i wanted to know how would you think reader x Jungkook handle being an interracial couple in korea?! esp w her being a black woman? like reader feels a moment of insecurity or something and JK feels angry that someone made her feel that way and just loves her and makes her feel better? pure fluff or smut, ik you'd capture it perfectly 🥺💞 love you keep up the amazing work and take it easy!!!! xoxoxoxxxxx 💜💜💜

Hi! Thanks so much for your request! It really inspired me because I definitely understand being in an interracial relationship and the prejudice and problems we as black people face when he decide to date outside of our race. To my black people, WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. We have always been beautiful. People who hate on us fear our beauty because they know they could never replicate us or do what we do. Again, thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy! I made it a angsty but with fluff and just a tiny little piece of smut at the end. I also set this with the LFW Couple during their engagement phase🩵🩵🩵

~

Being a black woman, you’ve faced a lot of hate and turmoil. Some from your own community, some from others and even some self deprecation from yourself.

Regardless, you had amazing parents and friends who always assured you that your skin was beautiful and that you were beautiful. You were a black woman—the blueprint, the most elegant and graceful, the most envied.

You should be proud and you were.

Despite having so much overflowing confidence, there were moments where you could feel that little monster called insecurity crawling up your spine.

The most recent moment you could remember was a few months after you got engaged to your now wonderful husband, Jungkook.

He had taken charge of a lot of the wedding planning, saying he had a lot of good ideas and since he spent a lot of time at home anyway, he’d do most of the searching and calling. Of course, you’d come home and give some of your ideas as well.

“It’s your day, baby. I want you to have everything you want.”

Your heart and tummy soared with butterflies at hearing that. He really treated you like a princess. It was both of your wedding but Jungkook wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams. He didn’t care if you wanted him to wear pajamas or dye his hair orange, he’d do it if it meant you’d be happy.

With wedding preparations came things like makeup consultations and hair trials. As a black woman in Korea, there wasn’t a lot of options for makeup that fit your skin or people who understood your natural hair so you knew you’d probably be relying on yourself a lot for the time being. Good thing you knew how to do your own makeup and hair but doing it yourself kind of took away the magic and experience of wedding planning.

Thankfully, with some hard searching, you found a salon with a black employee. You could have cried tears of joy, seeing as her skin complexion was close to yours and that she had experience with wedding makeup.

Her name was Jazz and she was actually born in South Korea. The salon she worked at was owned by a close friend of her parents and she’s been working there for a few years.

“So, tell me about your fiancé. Is he handsome?” She asked you in English as she detangled your hair. Your Korean was pretty good but you sometimes preferred English.

You smiled just thinking about him, pulling up a photo of him on your phone. It was a selfie you two took after getting engaged—your left hand raised to show off your ring and him cheesing hard at the camera.

Jazz made an ‘oooo’ sound, looking a little closer at him. “He is very handsome. How’d you bag someone like that?”

With candy crush, you thought.

“Yeah. He’s amazing. He’s so kind and sweet too. I can’t imagine life without him.” You chattered dreamily. Your life had barely started with Jungkook but you wanted to live the rest of it with him. You wanted to laugh with him, to scold him for staying up too late, to argue with him and then make up later, to experience every joyous moment with him.

You only wanted him. For the rest of your life.

Jungkook came to pick you up after your appointment, waltzing into the shop like he owned it. You bit your lip at the sight of him—he’s being growing his hair out, claiming he wanted to see how it would look before the wedding. He asked how you’d like it and you insisted you’d love his hair any kind of way but you were secretly wishing he’d grow it out and wear a ponytail. Fingers crossed!

When you started spending more time together, you noticed how many hours he spent in the gym. You’d FaceTime him sometimes and he’d often be boxing or lifting weights, sweat dripping down his neck and muscles bulging. And yes, the first time you two had sex was after one of those calls. You had given yourself a 90 day time restraint, just to make sure he was pursuing you for more than just sex. 89 days was pretty close though so you considered it a win!

He scrunched his nose in a cute smile when he saw you, long legs carrying him over to where you were getting some final touchups by Jazz. She noticed him approaching, jaw dropping at your fiancé.

She leaned down to whisper scream in your ear, “girl he is fine as hell!”

You chuckled. “I know.” Standing to your feet, you greeted your sexy fiancé. “Hi baby.” You greeted in Korean.

Once he was close enough, he pulled you into a hug, inhaling the scent of your clean hair and all the products Jazz used. He pulled away to get a good look at you.

“You look beautiful baby.” He complimented and you smiled even wider, feeling all giddy under the praise. “Do you think this is the hairstyle you want for the wedding?”

“I like it but I don’t know. I’m gonna come back.”

“Please do!” Jazz chimed from behind you, making both of you laugh.

“Jungkook, this is Jazz.” You introduced. He smiled politely at her, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasures mine. I have so many ideas for the wedding and I just know your fiancé will look amazing in anything.” She gushed.

You felt Jungkook’s hand squeeze at your waist, looking down at you with soft eyes that made your heart flutter.

“I know she will too.”

You wanted to plant a smooch right on those lips, squeeze him tightly and never let him go.

Jazz’s grin was wider than the damn Joker. Ah, she loved love.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly as he remembered something, turning to Jazz, he inquired, “hey, do you guys dye hair here? I’m thinking of going purple.” He followed an excited Jazz over to the wall where they kept hair dye samples.

You smiled endearingly at both of them. They both gave off golden retriever energy. You hoped they’d be friends.

While they did that, you went back to the waiting area. You had seen a wedding magazine that you wanted to show Jungkook.

There were 2 older Korean lady’s sitting there, chatting to each other and reading magazines as well. They looked up when you entered, giving you looks that you’ve grown used to living here. It wasn’t really disgust or anything, it was more like a “what are you going here” kind of look.

You smiled at them, bowing your head a little in respect before shifting through the magazines for the one you were looking for. You found it, flipping through the pages to search for the centerpieces you saw.

“She’s marrying him? How distasteful.” You heard one of them say. You paused for a second. Were they talking about you? No, right? They were already having a conversation before you walked up. They were probably talking about someone else.

Just mind your business, you thought.

“It’s bad enough one of them is working here. I don’t want her touching my hair but Sunhee insists she knows what she’s doing. I don’t believe it. They can barely take care of their own hair. Just look at it.”

There was no way you could doubt that. They were definitely talking about Jazz. She had hair that appeared shorter, compliments of shrinkage. She showed you a photo of her hair straight and it was very close to her butt. You knew of the negative implications behind natural hair, especially when it came to shrinkage and the stereotypes surrounding it. You wished people understood more about black hair but ignorance had no bounds.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind. Look at her. She looks dirty. Just imagine their children. Ugh.”

Dirty? You weren’t dirty. And what was one of your kind? They were talking about you like you were less than human. You’ve experienced a lot over the years living here in South Korea—fetishization, discrimination, even people randomly touching you but you’ve never had anyone be that bold to speak about you right in front of you. They must have heard you speaking English with Jazz and assumed you didn’t understand them. Or they could very much well know you spoke Korean and just didn’t care.

You didn’t even realize Jungkook approaching you, startling a little at his hand on your back.

“You alright, baby?”

You managed a convincing smile. You didn’t want to cause a scene or anything. Jungkook was very overprotective of you. He didn’t tolerate disrespect and your comfort and safety was his number one priority. He was quick to remove you from any situations that he thought you’d be unsafe in and he was even quicker in shutting someone down who tried to embarrass or disrespect you.

You trusted him with your whole heart so why was it so hard to tell him? You took one look in those doe like eyes and you never wanted to see them harden in anger or get misty with tears.

So you smiled and reassured him. “I’m fine. I wanted to show you these centerpieces. Aren’t they nice?”

“They’re wonderful. I really like that arrangement. Let me take a picture of it.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo. “Ready to go? Taehyung and Namjoon invited us out to dinner.”

“Yup. All ready. Let me just say bye to Jazz.”

He nodded and let you go. Your smile dropped when you turned around, speed walking over to Jazz who was cleaning her station.

She noticed you walking up. “Oh, your fiancé already paid for you. He also made an appointment to dye his hair purple. Can you believe it? I personally think red would suit him better but-“

You cut her off by pulling her into a tight hug. You know you just met her so this was probably strange but you just needed her to know something.

She did think this was the tiniest bit weird but she still reciprocated your hug. You were a really nice person and she loved knowing of another black woman living in the same area.

“You okay?” She asked.

You pulled away and smiled at her. “I’m wonderful. And you’re beautiful.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you. So are you.”

“Here, take my number. I’d love it if you could come to my wedding.”

~

The entire car ride home, you were quiet. You had turned on the music to avoid any conversation. You knew if Jungkook started questioning you about what happened at the salon, you’d break and tell him about those women. You also knew it was stupid of you to hold it in but you just couldn’t tell him. You’d just forget and move on.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

When you got home, Jungkook went to take a phone call and you went to the bedroom to stare at yourself in the mirror.

You loved your hair. You loved yourself. You loved your skin. Those women were just ignorant. You shouldn’t let them get to you.

But you couldn’t stop thinking of what they said about you and Jungkook.

“I’d never let my son marry one of her kind.”

Did Jungkook’s parents think that of you? They were very kind to you and never made you feel not welcomed. You spoke to his mother all the time about the wedding. She’s even taught you how to cook Jungkook’s favorite meals. His father was a bit more stern but still a very kind man.

And what about Jungkook? Did he have an issue with you being black? You don’t think he would have dated or proposed to you if he didn’t, right? You never assumed he had an issue with your race just like you didn’t have a problem with his. Of course, you acknowledged he was Korean and you did your best to respect him and his culture. He was always so open, assuring that you could ask him anything and you did the same.

He admitted you were the first non Korean woman he’s ever dated and he didn’t want to do anything to offend you. Like he assured you, you told him that you weren’t much different from others. You still expected him to treat you well in this relationship and vice versa. Your differences in your races and culture didn’t really change very much.

So moments like these really made you wonder if you were too different.

“Baby, we have a few hours before dinner. Did you want to play It Takes Two with me?” Jungkook asked as he entered the bedroom. He noticed how you were staring at yourself but not in the normal admiring way you often did.

This time, your face looked somber. Was something bothering you?

“Baby? Are you okay?”

You looked at him through the mirror.

You couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

Sighing, you turned to face him. He had moved closer to you so now he was just inches away.

For some reason, you couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his. Shame burned at you.

Jungkook pouted his lip and tilted his head, reaching out a hand to cup your cheek and raise your head. Your eyes met and suddenly that dam broke.

He could see how your eyes began to tear up and he panicked. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He racked his brain for anything he could have done to upset you but nothing was really coming to mind. Was this one of those times you wanted him to pick up on hints? He could be a little dense sometimes which you thought was cute. You were good at communicating which helped both of you avoid any unnecessary problems.

So what was wrong?

“Jungkook…..do you….have a problem with me being black?”

Wow. Not what he was expecting. Then again, he didn’t really know what to expect. You hardly cried so he hasn’t gotten very good at determining your types of crying.

He was baffled by your question. “What? What are you talking about?”

You sighed again. “Well, I overheard these women talking at the salon. They were talking about me and Jazz. They called me dirty and said that they’d never let their sons marry one of my kind….” You inhaled a shaky breath, looking away from his eyes. If you looked any longer, the tears would fall.

Jungkook felt two emotions well up in him. The first was pure rage because how dare someone speak about you like that? He wished he had heard it because he would have given those women a piece of his mind. Respecting your elders was an important part of his culture but he didn’t give a damn about that when someone was disrespecting you.

The second emotion was sympathy because he hated seeing you doubt yourself. You were such a wonderful person, surefooted and with an unflappable spirit. You let comments roll off your back like water, only looking ahead and never letting people taint your energy. He knew you used to struggle sometimes with self love, especially trudging through the world as a black woman but he never saw it get to you and he admired that about you.

So to see you ready to cry over this made his heart ache for you.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You blinked your tears away, slowly shifting your gaze to stare back at him. A gentle smile was on his face, one you only ever saw during moments like this—those moments where he could fully open his heart up to you.

“Do you really think I would have even pursued you if I had a problem with that?”

You shrugged your shoulder. “I don’t know….” You mumbled, averting your gaze again but he moved his head a little to make you look at him again.

“I think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid eyes on. When I first saw you, all I could think was how could such a gorgeous person exist? Naturally, I noticed your skin but only because it was glowing. You were brighter than anyone in that restaurant.”

You choked out a watery laugh. You remember that day. It was one of those days where you felt particularly hot. You weren’t expecting to meet someone but there was Jungkook, a little awkward but so charming. He caught your attention immediately. No one knew but receiving those flowers from him solidified your attraction to him and a part of you knew you’d be together in the long haul.

“I don’t care about you being black.” Then he realized what he said and backtracked a little. “Well, of course I care but you know, I don’t and….wait let me start over.” He stumbled, making you laugh again. That boyish awkwardness always managed to rear its head but it only made you fall for him even harder.

“I get what you mean.”

He sheepishly grinned before continuing, “I care about it because I care about you but I also don’t care because that’s not all you are. You’re sensible and bright and clever and so self assured. Not to mention, your ass is absolutely amazing and I want it tattooed on my forehead.”

You snorted a laugh, playfully smacking him on the chest. He was so silly but he knew if it was possible, he’d do it. He was that obsessed with you and everything about you.

“You’re ridiculous.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him, sparkling eyes blinking up at him.

“And your laugh is goofy and you’re bad at reading directions for furniture and you put your freezing cold feet on me at night which drives me insane.” He huffed.

“Socks are uncomfortable.” You defended.

“But…” He leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “I love all of that about you. I’ve never once doubted that. I love you, all of you.”

The tears finally fell but they weren’t because of your insecurity, not anymore. They were because you adored this man in front of you and you felt so unbelievably lucky to have him in your life.

“I love you too.”

Your lips met in a kiss that reminded you that he was what you needed. He was the only person you wanted.

And as you made love that night, sweet whispers of his love warming your skin, all of those previous anxieties had completely dispersed from your mind. His cock stretched you open, your arms holding him tightly and his hands grounding you to this reality. His lips blazed hot kisses across any skin he could reach, hips pushing slow and deep inside of you and bringing you closer to euphoria.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, gripping your thighs that were wrapped around his waist and keeping him close.

“Jungkook….” You breathily uttered his name, not knowing what else to say but he didn’t need you to. He could feel all of your emotion through his name and he wanted to hear more of it.

“I got you, baby. Always.”

That little monster was locked back in its cage for now. You couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t break free again but you knew Jungkook would be there to help you through everything.

Everytime.

[pomplalamoose]

So Luke's SO is on her period, how does he take care of her? (skip it if you're uncomfortable with this topic <3)

Hiii anon, thanks for the ask! I was just thinking about that a few days ago so I added some extra ideas I had, hopefully you don't mind🩵

• since Luke is a very caring person, you can be sure he'll be there for you to rely on during your period and truly do his best to make you more comfortable 

• although with varying degrees of success 

• he always means well, of course, but especially a younger Luke from ANH wouldn't really know what to do at first 

• I have no idea if there is a stable educational system on Tatooine (but somehow I doubt it)

• even if one exists, I imagine most children of moisture famers get homeschooled so they are able to help their family out at work 

• I'm sure that Luke's aunt and uncle did their best to properly prepare him for life, possibly including parts of sex education too

• however I don't think this went much further than telling him how children come into existence 

• he might know that periods exists and that they aren't exactly a pleasant experience 

• still it will probably be up to you to tell him about the specifics 

• he will take you very serious right from the very start though 

• maybe a little bit too serious 

• I can totally see him freaking out over the amount of blood loss until you explain that it's natural and you won't die 

• for some time he'll stay wary though, eyeing you suspiciously to make sure you're telling the truth 

• (like a very concerned puppy)

• he'd be one to hover, unable to leave you out of his sight and end up making you nervous with all his fussing 

• please, he wants to help!

• tell him what he can do for you and he will!!!

• PLEASE

• he'll be immensely relieved, when after a week, you are still very much alive and well

• if you tend to have mood swings you'll probably end up scaring him once or twice before he really gets what's going on

• Luke would never belittle your pain in any way

• not as an uneducated young man, nor when he's older and more experienced

• first of all he would never do this to anyone 

• second of all he will be able to feel your pain through his sensitivity in the Force

• if you let him he'll try to relieve it, maybe share it with you so you don't have to carry the burden on your own

• there has to be a way right? 

• if there isn't he'll figure something out himself, after all Force healing is a thing too

• alternatively he'll gather information about herbs or pain killers 

• he'd be so very understanding too

• he lets you cry in his arms, easily weathers your anger and is happy when you are

• the patience he has for you is endless

• maybe not during his younger years but post ROTJ for sure 

• he's very amused if you have the weirdest food cravings 

• also he'd keep a secret stash of your favorite snacks somewhere so you never run out and he doesn't have to go hunt them down in the middle of the night 

• when he can't be with you while you're on your period, say for example during ESB, he'll try to get in contact with you as often as possible so you don't feel left alone 

• at some point he'd definitely know the schedule of your cycle better than you do

• you're suddenly devastated out of nowhere and he'll be like "aren't you starting your period next week, bunny?"

• he'd never make you feel embarrassed or uneasy about anything related to it 

• should you happen to bleed through your clothes or the bed sheets, he even tries to whisk them away before you notice 

• he doesn't want you to stress over more than you have to

• if you allow him into your mind to sense your needs he'll know what you require before you do

• otherwise he'll ask you to tell him

• not as desperate as when he was younger but he still wants to let you know he's always there should you need him

• that of course includes giving you space if it's what you prefer 

• if you're especially needy though, he'll somehow make this fit into his schedule as well  

• he's basically ready to jump at any opportunity to care for you 

• he makes you laugh 

• he buys you flowers 

• and your favorite food or snack 

• alternatively he cooks for you too

• he'll make you tea/coffee/any other favorite beverage of yours 

• he gives you tummy rubs

• or massages to ease your pain 

• secretly he's thrilled to have an excuse to touch you 

• (he likes taking bubbly baths with you as well)

• if you are able to go on with your days just as you usually do he'll be very impressed but also worried

• I don't think he'd tell you so, he knows you are capable and strong and doesn't want to undermine this 

• however, for his own peace of mind, he'll regularly check in on you to see if you're still doing okay

• only rarely will he actually intervene and tell you to go sit down or to remember to drink enough

• (if this happens he won't back down until you've done as he told you to)

• furthermore (this wasn't part of the ask but it's important to meee) I want to talk about how he'd handle this as a Master

• obviously he will be responsible for the education of many

• and due to the probable multitude of his Padawan's origins he'd make an effort be very well informed about every single aspect and difference in physics there is

• like with everything else he wants his students to trust him, to see him as a steady pillar in their life 

• thus he will often encourage them to ask all the questions they want and to bring their concerns and health matters to him 

• he wants them to know that no one has to be ashamed of their body

• if someone is on their period and not feeling well, they will get to rest 

• of course he encourages his students to partake in their lessons anyways but none of them will get into any trouble if they simply can't 

• he would never force anyone through exercises their body can not handle 

• I'm sure he'll put aside extra time for those who especially struggle with pain to show them a good way to handle it 

• he wants for all his students to be equally well equipped in any situation without having to suffer any disadvantages due to different physics

[kindlingkeen]

more OCs from Crime Alley yay!! I just love Park Row. I wish it became a community for Jason in canon, so he doesnt have to rely on just the Batfam as his support system. before the Outlaws he didnt even have a team, and his canon friendships are few and underexplored. so more Crime Alley peeps is always welcome!!

Sometimes I have this experience where I get an ask or a comment, and I’m like, how did you know that?!?!?! And then I remember I impulsively let details of my plans slip somewhere, the internet is not just a black box I can shout into, and y’all pay attention to the things I say. 🤭

Yes, OCs from Crime Alley, I think we’ll meet some for the first time in the upcoming Territorial Disputes (I promise it does exist, it’s just being difficult, the OCs being one of the reasons why).

I’m glad you’re excited. Thanks for the ask, anon! 🩵

[whenwindwhispers]

Get to know your Tav!

Tagged by @tavsboots, thank you, thank you! Very flattered and excited to be invited to join in on this. I love character building questions!

✧ Whisper or Wind Whispers. Takes up the name of Whisper Dekarios after his marriage to Gale. | Mephistopheles tiefling. | 40 years old. | Fighter and battle master. | Folk hero. | He/him.

What is your Tav’s…

Favorite weapon: Greatsword.

Style of combat: Brute force. He relies on being able to take hits harder than his enemies. Sometimes, he is known to utilize the environment around him for improvised weapons.

Most prized possession: His so-called “lucky” coin (aka the first bit of gold coin he earned for a completing a job), and the frog teapot gifted to him by his best friend Faeryl, knowing that he holds a spot soft for frogs. Granted, the teapot was stolen from Auntie Ethel’s teahouse, but she didn’t need it anymore.

Deepest desire: Somewhere to belong, a family to connect to. Since he was an orphan, Whisper has longed to seek out his mother or father. He hasn’t found either, but he’s bound to find family in his friends and party instead.

Guilty pleasure: Eating dessert before dinner. He tends to spoil his meals with his favorite snacks.

Best-kept secret: He’s afraid of thunderstorms. Only Faeryl knows this.

Greatest strength: His compassion and kindness.

Fatal flaw: He tends to be very stubborn and is always reluctant to ask for help.

Favorite smell: He really likes the smell of florals and berries.

Favorite spell or cantrip: Mage hand! It’s the first cantrip that Gale decides to teach him, and he remembers the experience well.

Pet peeve: Being overtly loud and talking over others.

Bad habit: Chewing the inside of his cheek/lower lip and avoiding eye contact.

Hidden talent: He can do coin tricks! Taught himself after holding onto his lucky coin.

Leisure activity: Gardening. He likes to collect plants from every region that the party travels to and plant his favorites in small pots kept next to his tent.

Favorite drink: Frostkiss ale.

Comfort food: Blueberries.

Favorite person: Faeryl or Gale! Difficult to choose between his best friend and future husband.

Favored display of affection (romantic and/or platonic): For platonic affection, he likes to give hugs! He’s got a broad chest and shoulders, perfect for burying your face into. As for romantic affection, it seems his tail has a mind of its own; his tail will always find itself curled towards those he’s fond of or wrapped around them.

Fondest childhood memory: Making friends with all the stray cats in Baldur’s Gate, and sneaking them into the orphanage for food.

I’m going to tag @potion-brew @left4dead to join in on this too! 🩵

Original post format can be found here by @sporeservant (:

[the-earth-priestess]

IMPORTANT UPDATE! FREE BASE READING, PAID TIERS

hello everyone! i've decided i need to rework how i do readings. 🥹

i'm going to be completely transparent about it. this is because i'm not getting the results i need. the thing is, this really actually deserves to be a paid service. when i give readings, i give my all. i put 100% of my time, energy and empathy into making sure my responses are genuine, joyful and good. when you were asking for a reading from me, you were asking for messages from Spirit and advice from me. this advice comes from my learnings over time; it's hardwon and it takes effort and time to accumulate this knowledge and wisdom.

and so now, it's that wisdom that you're going to pay for.

because realistically, anyone can read for you. anyone can give you advice based on the cards, too. but if you've seen my general readings here on my blog, or been lucky enough to have received a full free reading already, then you'll know i'm highly skilled in what i do. because i genuinely wish to serve people, protect people and love people. i'm a reader who believes in the pay-it-forward methodology of karma; meaning, i will give over and over in order to receive tenfold.

but sometimes you need to set boundaries. you can rely on the Universe, but the Universe won't do everything for you.

i love helping people, but i need to make my service work for me. i haven't received a single tip out of 10+ readings yet, and some people don't even stick around after the reading to thank me. i'm afraid that isn't what i'm all about. to avoid being used until i burn out again, i need to put my foot down and i need to advocate for my needs.

so going forward, here's how things are going to work.

TO RECEIVE A BASE TAROT READING - FREE:

use an actual blog that includes posts, icon, banner, etc (so i know you're not a bot)

like + reblog this post (helps me gain exposure)

follow me (to keep updated)

dm me with any request your heart desires! (so i can see what i can do for you)

TIER TWO - USD$30 UPFRONT:

you will receive advice based on the tarot reading from yours truly! this is important if you want to get the full use out of your personalised base reading.

TIER TWO - USD$50 UPFRONT:

you will receive an oracle reading, which is basically advice from the Universe as divined by me, using my beloved Sacred Forest oracle deck! i highly recommend this one because it feels fun and exciting to divine and receive messages from the Universe.

i really hope you'll consider my services, everyone. i really want to help, but i want it to feel rewarding and good. money isn't everything, but people don't always know how to express heartfelt thanks in words either and this is an easy way to do that. it's how i want to make a living!

i'll be redirecting everyone who has already dm'd me about my previous free tarot reading post to this one. i know i'll lose some requests, but i know the ones who need me enough and want to show genuine love and light right back to me will stay.

thank you for your consideration. i love you all! 🩵🍃✨

[winterchimez]

💌 moot game! tag/describe your moots whom fits in the categories below:

can always rely on

never misses a post

share the most interest with

have the most in common with

one(s) you look up to

you'd run away and live in a cottage with

spouse material mutual

best personality

never fails to make you laugh

you'd have a crush on if you knew them irl

you absolutely cannot live without

omg thank you for the fun ask anon! hehe here it goes:

can always rely on — @sungbeam @cloverdaisies

beamie my little sweetest meimei whom i love dearly 🥺🫶🏻🩵

and obv my love, clo 💚💚💚 (ps the fact that she always, well almost everyday pops into my dms to ask how has my day went like?? and how we both always listen to each other's rants/irl issues/looking out for one another/giving each other support all the time uggh sweetest ever 😭😭😭)

never misses a post — @zzoguri @flwoie

istg like you both are always literally one of the first to rb/like my works sakajdk i love you both sm 🥹🥹🥹

share the most interest with — @sungbeam @zzoguri

beamie with literally almost everything from kpop to classics to mcu!! also recently discovered that moni is also into anime like i am YAS BAE 😩😩😩🤙🤙🤙

have the most in common with — @sungbeam

i mean almost every single day we'd find something in common with one another, i'd say we're like long lost twinsies 😤

one(s) you look up to — @stealanity @daisyvisions

i find that matty is that big sister that we can all always rely on cs every time she would either randomly pop up in the discord gc/in your asks and drop you a kind/positive message which really just makes your day a whole lot better 🥺🫶🏻

ofc daisy. my ult favourite sangyeon stan!!! i love interacting with her and obv been a fan of her works since coming back to the app back in early feb this year!!

you'd run away and live in a cottage with

all of my loves from the deoboyznet comm!! istg we'll have a blast and party till dawn probably 🤪🤪🤪

spouse material mutual — @stealanity @daisyvisions

obv if they are the ones i look up to, then yes they're def ready for marriage too 😚😚😚 (calling changmin & sangyeon to come pick you both up right this second brb)

best personality — @justalildumpling

honestly, all of my mutuals would fall into this category but im giving j an honorary mention!! bcs we are now emotional support buddies 🥲🥲🥲💓💓💓

never fails to make you laugh — @sungbeam @haet-sal @i520cm @hongyangi

i mean if you look at beamie & my everyday dms, i can guarantee you that 80% of it is either just us laughing our ass off on random topics or unhinged memes 🤡

obv, lacey & ipah are just so freaking hilarious omg??? they truly are the ones who bring chaos & laughter into our gc all the time lmao

and there's dal, making me lose my shit over nsfw content all the time 🫠🫠🫠

you'd have a crush on if you knew them irl — @cupidjyu @hanniluvi @cloverdaisies

hear me out, yumi & soph are literally one of the sweetest ppl you'll ever meet here. every time i interact with them our convo is always just so pure & sweet i love you both loads my cuties 🥰🥰🥰

and clo?? my talented beautiful kween for obvious reasons. 😘💚

you absolutely cannot live without

all of my mutuals!!! 🩵🩵🩵

[staticl0ve]

Hi pookiebear bbg♥️ the kids miss you..

🍌In your opinion, what's the funniest joke/ reference/pun you've made in a fic? (I cant wait for this answer)

🍎Is there anything you straight-up won't write?

🫐What's your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there's almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn't been written yet, etc.)

LOVE YOU ♥️♥️♥️

Pookiebear?! 🧍🏻‍♀️ Now, listen here schnookum—

Also goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve been writing that it’s going to take me a minute to dig through my dusty memory!

And as always 🩵🩵 thank you love! Can’t wait to be less busy and get back to writing!

-

🍌 In your opinion, what’s the funniest joke/reference/pun you’ve made in a fic?

It’s funny to me cause at this point in my writing experience (pretty fresh), I was still a little unsure about writing smut. I’m not sure what came over me, I almost didn’t include this part but felt like the humor really matched the ridiculous rom-com theme of the story. There’s a moment in Things I Hate About You where I interrupt the smut with a magazine quote about bj’s. 🤣

“You’re just full commando here?” He smirked arrogantly, “I am a machine, what do I need underwear for?” Gossip Weekly’s top three ways to wipe the smirk off of your average male android? Tip number one: our experts conclude that nothing pleases the deviated male android more than watching their human partner serving their phallus (that’s suck him off, for you primates).

🍎Is there anything you straight-up won't write?

Hmmmmmmmmmm. Besides the typical list of non-con, incest, and other extremely dark themes…

It’s not a won’t write, but more of a not interesting to me anymore: a typical canon rewrite where the story follows the game canon but what if reader/OC was in it. I know I’ve done it before and as the first fic I’d ever written, it was great for experimenting with finding a writing style and relying on canon for character voice.

However, now, I find it less interesting to stick super close to canon and much prefer AUs cause I find that the focus will be about the characters as they are and the theme of the story, rather than being stuck on a prescribed plot line.

🫐What's your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there's almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn't been written yet, etc.)

So I wrote Sixty first but then I really thought it this (and will keep the part about Sixty cause I love him). Markus is kinda underrated in some ways. In comparison to Connor, he’s got a lot less art and writing unless it’s Markus paired with either Connor or Simon.

I’d love to read a story that captures the gilded cage, humbled machine journey of a broken (literally) machine rise from the ashes to become a guiding force of a civil rights movement. Screw David Cage’s bland writing, I’m talking about how I’d love to see the side of Markus that is burdened and tempted by power.

I want to see a story that explores how Markus isn’t infallible, perfect, and selfless because “the power feels good.” People like to say North is the violent and unfeeling one, but I blame David Cage’s poor writing on that. Markus is just as capable of being calculated and brutal. I’d love to see a Markus that understands the hatred and anger in his people’s hearts and his own struggle to be objective and fair as a leader.

Ok. Now to Sixty.

Sixty!!! The boy needs more love. He has actual screen time, so much potential to juxtapose against Connor and yet, it’s Nines who has barely any screen time and no voice but all sorts of fan created works!

It’s such a tragedy cause you can input as much fanon as you want in either Sixty or Nines but Sixty is never picked. 😭🩵✨

-

🍉 Ask me anything! Writer fruit ask! 🍉

[selfinserttothestars]

CHRISSSSSSSS HEY HI HELLOOOO

Anyways I'd like to see ur yuusona's relationship with these 3 characters: 🤖, 🐱, 📚

I felt like asking for Idia and mayhaps Ruggie but then I remembered u already talked about them so lskskwksks decided to ask these ones instead

LET’S GOOOO I’M SO READY FOR THESE!!!!

They’re gonna be long though so uuuuuuuuuuuuh heads up expanding the post!

Ok so first up is Ortho! Homegirl is so protective of him especially after book 6. She probably thought she’d never see him again after what happened in STYX so when he came back to be a student at NRC she was so happy, definitely got close to crying but will deny that forever lmao

She tends to treat him like a little brother because look at him and tell he’s not everyone’s little brother. You can’t you’re lying. She’ll always keep an eye on him when she can and cheers him on in anything that he pursues.

She genuinely believes that Ortho can do anything but will still protect him with her life. 10/10 incredible baby bro

Next up is Grim! The son ever! I’m going to be completely honest in saying that she was totally off-put by him in the very beginning. She didn’t quite understand why she was even being associated with this furball but with time and the necessity of teamwork between them they quickly bonded. He was the first to find out that she’s not a boy in the all boy’s school and even when she doubted him at first, he never let it slip to anyone. They can rely on each other when it really counts and it’s sweet.

She will openly refer to him as her son and she’s not afraid to poke at his pride every now and again (which he needs good gravy) but sometimes she humors his antics a little too much. She will claim that she is his familiar rather than vice versa if anyone calls him a familiar because she knows he hates it and doesn’t mind the title anyway. It’s kinda funny to see people’s reactions too.

Ultimately they have more of a sibling relationship than anything and have each other’s backs. They do love each other like family, 10/10 found family. Would find again

Lastly but not leastly is Mozus Trein! The dynamic between them is actually pretty interesting (to me at least) because it didn’t start out as much. If anything Lucius was the one to break the ice. Chris was always quietly affectionate towards the cat and he’d gotten comfortable hopping up onto her desk during class. She’ll always pet him and say hello and goodbye before and after class and Trein was always amused but never really showed any bias. For a long time Chris was actually a bit intimidated by Trein but slowly warmed up to him as time went on.

The relationship probably reached a pique during the Glorious Masquerade event! Chris was able to spend time with just Trein and Grim while exploring Fluer City so they were able to talk more casually, not having to worry about school for the moment.

She definitely slipped up and called him “dad” at one point, but rather than backing out she decided to commit to the bit for shits and giggles (Watching Trein’s composure waver when instead of apologizing she asked “Dad, am I the disappointment of the family?” Was definitely worth it though he was not expecting that). This of course was a joke between the two of them, as no one would ever drop the subject if they found out about it.

They have an inside joke now, so you might hear one of them mumble a “I raised you better than this” or “you’re not even my real dad” at each other if you listen closely. Of course if you don’t know it’s an inside joke then it might give you the wrong impression as Trein is always deadpan when he jokes… 10/10 best dad Trein

Thank for reading my essay holy moly these just keep getting longer I’m so sorry! 🩵

[unusual-raccoon]

For that violence ask game! :)

2, 12, 16, 23

Thank you, anon 🤍

2. A compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

Jacaerys Velaryon (my baby boy 🤍) has too many issues with authority (particularly male authority) and control to simply hand it over to a sexual partner. He's learned to be his own father figure and not rely on others to see results (ex., appointing Corlys as hand, smuggling his brothers to safety). He's been vulnerable in so many aspects of his life and wouldn't readily welcome that into his bed. He's on top.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them?

I wouldn't describe him as unpopular, but I have a feeling season 2 will vastly underplay his value with Laenor Velaryon being alive: I'm talking about Addam Velaryon ( a lot of my faves are underrated in my opinion 😭). Addam Velaryon is such a standout character to me because of all he does in such a short time. He defies the odds during the Red Sowing and tames a dragon that previous killed Ser Steffon Darklyn, a distinguished member of the Queensguard. Addam is also one of the few reported cases of a bastard child (he's abt 14-15 in the books, HBO please stop aging my sons up) being named legitimate. He is a momma's boy (affectionate) and fiercely protective of his family. Even after being slandered with crimes he didn't commit by his unstable queen, Addam goes on to rally thousands in the name of the very same woman who ordered his arrest. Why? Because he's loyal. It's written on his grave. In the end, it's his loyalty to his queen and the men that rallied under him that leads to his death. Also, p.p.s he gets bonus points for actually partaking in a literal dance of dragons (Blowing kisses at Seasmoke & Tessarion 🤍🩵). I feel as though most people forget about Addam and in part, I believe that's because he dies so young. The actual best dragonseed and I will not be taking any criticism on that.

Honorable Mention for hated fave: Viserys Targaryen - Paddy elevated the character in such a tremendous way that can be adored despite his flaws. I LOVE HIM.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc.)

Rhaenicent being in love... SO many fics include a nod to them being in love (pretty sure the actresses have said something about it as well), or having shared something in the past and I- I don't get it. I can get down with unrequited love, I absolutely can, but like...

Their relationship was not like that in the books. Anybody who has talked to me for any extended period of time knows that I am not into rhaenicent, but written in a convincing way I can appreciate aspects of them. But authors lazily telling me they've always loved one another...sorry, babe, I'm not buying it. It is just not a headcanon that I don't enjoy, and if beaten over the head in a fic, I will actively nope-out.

Honorable Mention: Poor MeowMeow Aemond. Do I feel sympathetic towards his character? Absolutely (and I love him). Do I think any of these kids were morally right growing up? Not really (except for luke? Boy started swinging just because he saw his older brother get hurt - i'm coming back with the loyalty) I hate team green fans who develop such vitriol towards JaceLuke on Aemond's behalf.

23. Ship you've unwillingly come around to

Alysmond...in rare instances. Book!Alysmond is just...not it. But certain fics recontextualize the relationship in a way that makes them engaging. (Also, Aemond, just admit you wann fuck ur mom and ur nephew, so you found some middle ground between the two).

[hephaestuscrew]

🗺️✨👻 ← trying to choose ones that might give you a chance to talk about stuff you don't mention as often. but who can say.

🗺️- podcast world you’d most like to live in I feel some of my favourite podcast alternate worlds would be fun to visit but perhaps not very fun to live in e.g. Greater London in Victoriocity, Red Line in Greater Boston. And I'm still not really sure whether I'd rather live in the clean-energy fossil-fuel-free world of Wolf 359 at the cost of everything that Goddard Futuristics is getting up to. In the end, I think I'll go with the world of Monstrous Agonies - it's about the same level of fucked up as our current world, but with many communities of magical and fantastical creatures, which I think would make life more interesting even if I was still human myself. I really like the worldbuilding in that show. It's a great example of a show that uses fantasy as a metaphor for various kinds of real-world marginalisation while also explicitly including those real-world marginalised identities within the world of the story.

👻- a podcast that scares you I feel kind of bad saying this because I am not caught up with listening to it, but the first one that came to mind was The Silt Verses. Honestly it's probably because it creeps me out so successfully that I haven't gotten round to listening to the end of Season 2. Twisted saints and gods, morally ambiguous protagonists, the violence of the state and capitalism, horrifying worldbuilding presented as the accepted state of the world, the right unnerving blend of telling the listener what's going on and leaving it to the imagination from how it sounds… I should catch up with it.

✨- podcast in a different genre than what you usually listen to I initially didn't know what to say for this because I honestly have no clue what genre I usually listen to. I feel like most of my favourite shows defy simple genre categorisation in some way (which I do think is something that the podcast medium is particularly well-suited for, due to a combo of the indie approach, the less rigid audience expectations, and the ability to do weird shit in audio that wouldn't work as well in other mediums). But a show that I've been enjoying recently that's a bit different from my usual fare is Off Book: The Improvised Musical, which is what it says on the tin - each episode the hosts and usually a guest improvise a musical from scratch. It's not audio drama as such, but somehow they always seem to pull characters and a story from nowhere, and it's funny and often surprisingly moving.