#hope you enjoyed my little rambles

[sapphorrific]

summer book diary 2023

this is just my general big post about books i read this summer plus a bit of my thoughts! a bit like my personal goodreads comment section exept other peoples bad takes only make me angry. if i ever have a take that makes you angry im really sorry:(

june

Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov | my first venture into the genre of magical realism! fun and whimsical but not only that! the writing and story structure was just captivating and as someone who normally does not resonate with religious themes in the context of this book being written by a Soviet author, it felt natural and magical indeed, an act of rebellion against a totalitarian regime.

A little life by Hanya Yanagihara | i feel like this was falsely advertised to me as 'a booktok book about traumatized college friends that makes you cry' and i cannot stress how much this book was not that. i mean there was a group of college friends but the story focused mainly on only one of them. they did have trauma but i never expected the ammount of it. and i did cry a little bit once but i mostly felt angry. and i absoluthely understand why is it so controversial among people since i dont think anything can prepare you for experiencing a little life in its 600 page entirety. my feelings about this book are extremely mixed, on one hand i dont regret picking it up however i never want to read it again. the book felt like how i imagine watching a child torture small animals feels. absolute psychological warfare of a text. if you are sensitive to any sort of triggers i recommend looking them up before you read this. i do not want to label it as 'problematic' or say it was overall bad tho. it really did make me feel strong emotions and i think it really captured the helplessness and complicated emotions of watching someone close to you really struggle and refuse to get help. it does explore the themes of abuse, illness and addiction but also friendship, found family and love. also everyone who read this and went ah yes this is a hurt/comfort gay love story literally what is wrong with you how do you read this book and proceed to go make moodboards

july

Prague Spring by Simon Mawer | i feel like this book would be a better experience if i knew next to nothing about prague spring since it is written by a british author about events taking place in czechoslovakia in the 60's from a point of view of two young british hitchhikers and a british diplomat. so i really felt like im not the target audience here. the decision to tell the story from the point of view of foreigners was an interesting one, however i also had to witness with my own two eyes how the author described czech women. the brithish female characters are described as dainty and traditionally beautiful but the czech women always had a 'square slavic jawline' or an uneven face or something. the characters overall felt flat and the plot itself was not well executed since it essentially ended with the invasion of czechoslovakia and the evacuation of the main characters back to the uk. the book laid a heavy focus on the romantic relationships of the characters which, since the characters were one dimensional, felt one dimensional as well. a very mediocre experience for me, if you want to learn about the prague spring and are a foreigner maybe this would be of value for you but, i would probably not suggest you read this

Another Country | James Baldwin even though i did learn about american classic literature in high school, unfortunately my high school (and the czech curriculum in itself i think) does not put much emphasis on classic literature written by afroamerican writers so i have never really heard of james baldwin until i saw someone recommend this in a youtube video and honestly loved it! it really had all the things i was hoping it would have, the complexity, nuance, incredible characters who feel like living breathing people and last but not least the atmosphere of new york in the 50's and early 60's. definitely the kind of book i would read multiple times and this is not the last time i read something by james baldwin either. really recommend!

The Handmaid's Tale | Margaret Atwood quite uncomfortable to read but that was obviously the point. nevertheless, read it in one day since it was very hard to put down. i liked that it did not shy away from showing women actively participating in keeping other women in a patriarchal society in check. what i found a little limiting about handmaids tale is the lack of incorporating racial dynamics into what was essentially a dystopia based on the control of womens bodies, eugenics and religion which of course affect women of color differently than white women, therefore in that direction the book felt a little one dimensional. still i feel that its an important book to read

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid | oh boy heres when the unpopular opinions come i really thought this book was very mid. a fine beach read you pick up at the airport to read on a holiday but i feel that its a little overrated. the story focused of a journalist interviewing a fictional holywood actress at the end of her eventful life, and it promised me an unpolished view of complicated womans life. i felt like i was already reading the published biography the main objective of which was for me to still like evelyn hugo and fondly remember her legacy as a beloved movie star even though she does not even exist. i feel like the choice to tell a story of a fictional celebrity provides a way to really delve into the rotten world of hollywood and show its ugly uncomfortable side. shows like bojack horseman or hacks take advantage of this. but i dont think this book attempts to do this in any shape or form. sure, she admits to doing one extremely fucked up thing which affects the journalist interviewing her very personally. but this is just the way to tie the plot neatly together and is not really explored in depth or properly dealt with. there is also the question whether we as a reader can trust evelyn hugos account of her own life, as she is the only one alive to tell it. i feel like seven husbands of evelyn hugo had a lot of potential, which it ultimately did not deliver on for me. if mild enrichment is the kind of book you want to go for rn i think it serves a purpose in that way

My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russel | as much as evelyn hugo did not deliver my dark vanessa deliveredd!! a really captivating story of a imperfect victim of child abuse within a teacher student relationship. really shows how this kind of experience can haunt a person their entire life even if they refuse to believe they are not a victim in the first place. even though it covers a difficult subject, it really does go through the whole process of denial and acceptance so it does not leave a reader absoluthely hopeless and it does feel like the author did her research and did not write this as a sort of traumaporn but with care for the victims of this kind of abuse.

august

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov | i was inspired to read lolita (and my dark vanessa for that matter) after listening to the lolita podcast by jamie loftus which really felt like a good introduction before reading lolita itself as it covers not only the book but lolita as a cultural phenomenon by which i mean everything from the movies to the tumblr nymfette/coquette subculture. it gives a great context for the story and i really recommend listening to this podcast first as it helped me to better navigate the book as someone who did not know that much about it prior. it really is a complex multilayered text with a great ammount of references, anagrams and double meanings, there is an unreliable narrator manipulating you with his stunning flowery language and seemingly self aware sarcastic humor and on top of that it is a book about child abuse. so it really is a lot. still an unforgettable experience, had to rush through it as it made me sick to my stomach, truly an icredible read. kudos to the czech publishers for the new cover design of the book its really beautiful and honors the authors wishes.

[loopyarts]

My whole digital sketch/doddle spread of Holm. Aka me figuring out how to draw him while I am also having fun with it. He’s also my favourite minor character from dungeon Meshi. :3c He is just so adorable to me and I love this goofy 28-30 year old gnome.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

If it's not too much trouble could you show us some of your sketches of Barnaby and Wally cuddling/ hugging? The way you draw them injects serotonin directly into my blood stream 🫶🏽 👉🏽👈🏽

Have a nice day/night btw!

im not sure if there's anything leftover that i haven't already posted & isn't too dated for me to handle... but actually hold on lemme look through my scribble pages. there might be something hiding in the back

AHA! mostly au scribbles but here they are!

[little-pup-pip]

Hi! I was wondering if I can have a cat moodboard with no paci? I'm not picky on theme, colors, or gender lean, so it's all up to you! If not, please don't worry about it. Just thought I'd ask. :)

Sure!!

[emin-folly]

Imagine that there's this person whose whole thing is being without fear and the fandom decides he's afraid of a dude in a fursuit.

Fandom Logic (tm)

I think it comes down to primarily two reasons, one being because people think it's funny

They think it's funny that this character without fear can suddenly be afraid of this human Bat guy. If it was just a few people in the fandom doing this, it wouldn't be nearly as bad; people are after all allowed to do whatever they want, even if we don't like it. The problem lies in where the actual comic writers start adapting this as canon as it's a huge disservice to Hal's character

The second reason is just basically these people legitimately think Hal should be afraid of Bruce because he's ~The Batman~ (which, again, you're allowed to think that, just know that's not really in character for Hal....like at all)

The whole deal with Bruce is that, both in universe and in real life, he's designed to terrify low level criminals: thugs, crooks, any unsavory person who wanders the Gotham alleyways. That's the environment Bruce works the best in. Where he can easily slip into the shadows, where he can become the night and make himself out to be a monster he wants to be. The only people who should be afraid of Batman are the ordinary hoods and criminals that infest cities

But when you suddenly stick him in a brightly lit room like the Hall of Justice next to all these colorful superheroes, that's where his effectiveness pretty much stops. All his tactics and methods to scare people don't really work here. Suddenly, he's just some guy in a bat getup with a scowly mask on. And these are seasoned superheroes, they don't scare easily, especially the ones with powers like speedsters or Kryptonians. Bruce is out of his element. Everything he does to try to act scary should look comical and silly at best

And as for Hal, I think we can all agree that Hal has definitely seen some shit. He goes off into deep space, for months up to a year or so. Who knows what kind of unimaginable horrors he's had to deal with?? Going a bit into headcanon area, but I think that if Hal wasn't desensitized before, he definitely is now. He's not afraid of space Cthulhu and he is not gonna be afraid of a bat furry who furrows his eyebrows really hard. Hal isn't scared of anything--physical, that is. And I feel like Hal is definitely the kind of person who sees straight through Bruce's BS posturing, Bruce's whole act just doesn't work on Hal.

Unfortunately, just like a tornado, any character who comes close to a Bat gets dealt major damage and we're still picking up the pieces and trying to set things straight again OTL

[eating-figs-here]

Oh my stars I need to gnaw on bones and perish in the woods because. Because some people believe Wanderer/Scaramouche has gone through an entire redemption arc. No!! He is at the beginning. He is taking his first steps forward!!! He is STICKING with the Good Guys (TM) because it's the most optimal thing to do!! It's not out of character, he knows how to play the cards he's been dealt! And y'know, overtime, he should begin to grow to care for the people of Sumeru and the region itself!!! Like that's the point!!!! He isn't there yet!!!!!! He isn't supposed to be a good guy yet!!! The reason this "redemption arc" feels "unsatisfying" is because he isn't a fully converted good guy yet!!!! Aaaaaaaa!! :(

I have my thoughts below- and uh, it's a bit long

And to those saying Hoyo should've killed him off? Please, I do want to hear why you believe that killing off Scaramouche would've been more impactful than keeping him alive. I, personally, believe that killing him off would be a disservice to what the story has been trying to get across as Sumeru's version of wisdom.

And to explain what I believe the story has been trying to get across about wisdom: Wisdom is, to Sumeru, the celebration of individuality interwoven with the celebration of community. Greater Lord Rukkhadevata says that dreams are the fruit of human wisdom, and dreams are reflections of a person's raw joys, anxieties, sorrows, and examples of the bottomless creativity the mind produces. Those combined dreams power the Akasha, which helped Rukkhadevata repel forbidden knowledge and is considered an incredible piece of technology in Teyvat. (That's a lot of weight and power they're putting into dreams!!)

Wanna see another example of how starkly different individuals come together to beat an imposing foe? LITERALLY THE SUMERU CAST. Wonder why when you played throughout the Sumeru quest line it felt a tad bit like found family?? Because that's the point!! The narrative spends time fleshing out the bonds between characters, whether old or new! We see characters like Cyno, Dehya, and Alhaitham grow to trust one another despite their tense start! We see previously established relationships like Dehya and Dunyarzad or Tighnari and Cyno! They all get closer to the Traveler as well! It is INTENTIONAL!!

Okay, now back to this puppet, Scaramouche is someone who has consistently had his own personhood denied, with his right to exist as an individual played with. His own perceived abandonment from Ei and the Fatui orchestrating the destruction of his only support group (the people of Tatarasuna) in order to be used for their own gain hammers that point home. He rejects himself by ignoring his own humanity in favor of becoming something he THINKS he's supposed to be! The Harbingers do not trust one another, and they are ready to stab their colleagues in the back from their own gain. (Which he does!! What sense of community here?? None!!)

Do you see? Scaramouche, in this state, is the antithesis of Sumeru's wisdom. Which is precisely why he fails. He fails and he falls due to the wisdom of the people of Sumeru and the joint efforts of the Sumeru cast. He, a shattered puppet once more, is forced to reckon with the fact that who he believes he should be is not who he is. And to make that realization have meaning, he must live.

There is a reason why the nation of wisdom is also the nation of dendro. To grow, adapt, and change are its core principles. So why wouldn't the Dendro Archon extend her hand to someone denied what she had been recently given- support, companionship, community. Wouldn't it be much more impactful to see a sickly sapling turn into a tree rather than letting it die? With Wanderer, we will (eventually) see the harvest of Sumeru's ideals. From rocky start to the nebulous finish, Wanderer will embody the adaptation and growth that marks Sumeru's wisdom as he steadily grows into his own individual- with many characters we know accompanying him on that journey.

I dunno how else to put this, I literally just think that having a character actively being shaped by what makes Sumeru.. Sumeru after a total rejection of it is neat. Because.. Y'know. Plants? Nurturing and growing?? I am being SO real I do not think narratively cutting off a character's ability to grow would be Sumeru's jam. Sorry for this mess of a rant, I hope my thoughts got through.. and this isn't even talking about the nuances of other characters (especially Nahida!!) but I am. Tired. So tired :')

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[shady-tavern]

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange. 

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked. 

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open. 

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries. 

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house. 

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed. 

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake. 

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well." 

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage. 

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them. 

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing. 

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden. 

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway. 

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out. 

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward. 

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people. 

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs. 

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

You want to support my stuff? Want more of my nonsense? Want to lord this over your mortal enemies as you laugh down at them from the top of your castle? Please consider heading to my patreon! A new short story gets posted every month =)

[pocket-watcher]

Gonna be kinda vulnerable for a sec here.

The reason I made this account in the first place was to try and help me get over my anxiety about sex. I’ve been with my partner for nearly 7 years now and we’ve never had sex. Crazy, right?!

But I was just so scared of it. It was like this mystical thing that I didn’t feel mature enough for. That I thought would be awkward or painful. That I put all this pressure into the moment it did happen being perfect.

And this account did its job - I’m not longer a virgin! Just don’t date me because I don’t put out on the first 542 dates.

And if anyone else is on here and has that same level of anxiety, about how you’ll perform and how you’ll live up to porn levels of sex - just know I cracked about 50 jokes during the whole thing.

So, my advice is to: make a kinky tumblr, find out what you like and are comfortable with, engage with porn that isn’t insanely over produced, and learn that for most people you don’t need to look like a Greek God for you to turn that person on.

So yeah, ramble over. I was a virgin for the entire time I’ve been running this account and since last week I’m not. 😅🎉

[happi-tree]

⚔️👑 shield and scepter 👑⚔️

Howdy, y'all! So my wonderful mutual @raemeh did this really cool fanart of my royalty Swiftli au (the fic for which can be found here), and I had some little design ideas about them in my wips, so I thought I'd post the two of them here! Thank you so much to everyone who's enjoyed it <333

[wrencatte]

mini fic 8 ! Fallen Order - Bogano First Visit - Cal & Greez & Cere Cal likes to sleep in...interesting places. Greez POV - 1.6k words

ao3 minific link - chapter 7 (beard)

Cal comes back from exploring more of Bogano limping, but in good spirits. Giddy, even!

Greez would almost be suspicious of it, not quite trusting the kid still, if it weren’t for how…young he looks with his cheeks flushed and his hair wild, holding an animated conversation with that droid that’s apparently sticking around. It takes years off him. Makes him look his age and like he wasn’t – like he wasn’t part of what was a genocide of his people.

Oh…great. Now Greez is sad just from looking at him.

He goes back to focusing on sprucing up the Mantis, determined to ignore his growing fondness for a kid who could scrap his ship for credits in a heartbeat. Scrappy describes the kid in more ways than one and Greez is not getting attached, stop. But he is. Because Cal is serious and jaded, but he also listens to Greez when he talks about the upgrades he’s done to the Mantis, asking intelligent questions and actually interested in the answer. He loves all food, never picky even when Cere’s nose wrinkles just a bit. When he laughs, it sounds like he means it despite all the terrible things he’s gone through. And – he’s just a kid. How could Greez dislike a kid who’s gone through such hardships and yet is still trying to do some good in galaxy?

He wonders vaguely if that’s a Jedi thing or a Cal Kestis thing – and decides maybe it’s a little bit of both. Cere’s a good person too. He can see the similarities in the two of them, raised on the same values and lessons, just trying their best in a galaxy that hates them.

Greez is so good at ignoring his own feelings and everything around him that an hour passes before he realizes…Cal isn’t hanging around anymore. The latero briefly considers being worried, but then dismisses the thought. He’s probably back out exploring Bogano. Sometimes the kid disappears for the entire day, gone before the sun rises and not back until it’s well below the horizon. How he can find so much to explore in this backwater swamp, he has no idea, but he’s not about to go out investigating himself.

Satisfied with that logic, it’s back to buffing out the blaster marks off the Mantis’ exterior. Hm, maybe a new paint job? Cal found something out in one of the workshops, didn’t he? Presented it with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes, laughing when Greez opened it and found an eye-watering pink inside. Pink is a little too distinctive, but Cal handed over another tin of an understated swamp green Greez actually likes. Maybe he’ll tag the kid to help.

He’s distracted by his thoughts by a flash of red-white out of the corner of his eye – BD-1, wandering around and scanning insects that he’s probably scanned a dozen times before.

….with no ginger-haired Jedi in tow.

Great.

Where BD is, Cal should also be. It’s a new rule of the galaxy. Never one without the other. The last time that happened, turns out Cal got tangled up in some rope and was hanging over a drop so high Greez couldn’t see the ground.

“Where is he?” he asks the little droid. He gets a simple beep in response which Greez totally understands. Completely. Yeah.

 – Greez stares blankly, not understanding at all. BD does a little head waggle, making a noise that sounds suspiciously like a droid’s version of laughter. That little shit.

“Hey! We can’t all be fluent in fifty billion languages. Give me a break.”

He may be over-estimating that number by a tad, but it’s definitely a high number. The translation matrix in the Mantis isn’t exactly top notch, but it has a pretty decent database and it still glitches when Cal gets worked up and switches to a new language he hadn’t used before.

The question is how does he know so many and the answer gives Greez a headache every time.

He will never understand the Force.

“Just…where is he? If he fell in a hole and broke is leg somewhere Cere’s gonna to kill me.”

Or ran into another, what did he call it? An oggdo? According to Cal, he barely escaped with his life. Still injured from their escape from Bracca and caught by surprise, the kid lost a good chunk of his poncho and had to be hosed down before being let back onto the ship, covered in toad gunk and mud. Now that he’s healed, he’s supposed to be figuring out their next move concerning the Vault, but maybe he’s decided to throw himself into a fight with an oggdo again – and lost, and that’s why BD’s here, looking for help.

BD-1 would be more frantic if that was the case, right?

“Where’s Cal?”

Ah, speak and she shall appear. The galaxy really is just out to get him.

Greez face-palms as he turns to see Cere standing on the Mantis’ ramp, looking a little sleep ruffled but getting more and more awake as her gaze bounces from Greez to BD-1 and never to Cal because Call isn’t here. The fact that she’s stopped long enough to fall asleep, let alone actually slept, is a kriffin’ miracle. She’s been non-stop ever since they picked up Imperial communications of a Jedi on Bracca and said Jedi turned out to be a teenager who decided to immediately pass out from his injuries once they entered hyperspace.

And that was nearly three weeks ago.

“Heeyy, Cere. Have a nice nap?”

She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “I did, actually. Now, where’s Cal?”

Greez waves a hand. “Oh, you know him. He’s probably getting distracted by some new thing to explore.”

Cere crosses his arms, eyes flickering down to where BD-1 is watching them. “And I’m sure he made a conscious decision to do that without BD-1, didn’t he?”

“Maybe. You never know.” Greez feels oddly defensive, and he wonders if that’s a Jedi Master ability, making him feel like a kid who stole from the sweets jar when it reality it was his brother.

BD bwoops, it almost sounds like he’s laughing, hopping from foot to foot before he takes off, disappearing behind the ship’s ramp quick as a blink. Greez and Cere exchange bewildered looks. All they can do is follow. Where BD is, Cal will also be. And in turn, where Cal is, BD will be there. This they’ve learned – Cere when she nearly tripped over the droid sitting patiently as Cal meditated. Greez when he went to the second level of the Mantis for storage and found BD standing guard as Cal quietly had some sort of panic attack.

Kindred spirits, Cere had called them with a sad sort of smile on her face.

When they make their way under the Mantis – Cere having to duck – what greets them is, quite frankly, an adorable sight.

Cal is curled up in the shadows, poncho pulled tight around him, head cradled on his arm.

Deeply asleep. He’s not even talking like he sometimes does. His expression is relaxed, content even. A few of the brown, bouncing critters that dig burrow – boglings? – are piled up around him like a lump of dozing akk dogs. Ears twitch. Legs kick out as they dream. They’re snoring. These little sounds that Greez will never admit out loud he finds cute. If he listens closely enough, he can hear a deeper snore from beneath the pile – Cal.

BD beeps quietly, a job well done in letting them know where Cal is, then skitters over to the kid, picking carefully around various limbs until he can tuck himself under Cal’s arm and snuggle against his chest like he’s a bogling himself. Cal makes a soft sound and curls around the droid, holding him close.

“Would you look at that,” Cere says softly, expression aching.

Cal sleeping -- actually sleeping without nightmares or pain – is something neither of them are familiar with at all. And who can blame him? Greez can’t imagine that the kid’s been through. He’ll be having nightmares himself for a long while thanks to Bracca.

“Do we leave him here?” Greez asks, torn between wanting him to sleep and cringing at the amount of mud that’s gotta be soaking into his clothes.

BD whirls in quiet warning, daring them to try and wake Cal. Cere laughs, shaking her head.

“Do you want to be the one who wakes him up?” she asks, her tone amused. Greez grimaces. No thank you. “I thought so. It’s better if we let him sleep, especially if he’s sleeping so well. It’ll be easier to connect to the Force if he’s well rested.”

“So, we just…walk away? Leave him alone?” Sleeping outside isn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

“Are you planning on going any further from the ship?”

“Well, no.”

Cere gestures to the boglings that have, surprisingly, not run away yet. A couple are looking at the two of them with wide, wary eyes, but they seem too comfortable to move. “He has plenty of guards. We’re not going anywhere. You’re more than welcomed to hose him down before he boards.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point.” Greez is absolutely hosing him down. Bogano mud stinks.

They leave him there, sleeping soundly with BD on guard, but they don’t go far. Cere disappears for only a couple minutes before she comes back out with a holonovel, a drink, and a chair, setting up right where she can juusstt see a peek of Cal under the ramp. Greez picks up the buffer again, pauses in thought, then hurries to grab the swamp green paint tin – after a nanosecond of hesitation, he scoops up the pink paint as well.

He’s sure there’s a non-obtrusive thing he can paint pink. Maybe it’ll get that one bright, looks-his-age smile from Cal again.

[no-light-left-on]

Jessamine's design has always intrigued me. the stark, full black suit and tall collar are pretty obvious status symbols. black was for the longest time an incredibly expensive colour of fabric due to how difficult it was to achieve proper rich blackness during the dyeing process and the collar, while most likely just a trend in Dunwall fashion inspired by the 1890s high collars can be read as lace, especially in some concept art, which is hard to care for and needs to be starched to hell and back to keep nice and stiff for a collar like that

but what I find a lot more curious about this is that the clothes appear very much inspired by Spanish renaissance fashion

which, honestly, would make sense with the real world inspiration. 19th century was obsessed with the past, with the romanticized medieval and renaissance times, and it was quite common to see fashion inspired by times long past (I mean, just look at Worth. the man invented haute couture and there is so much influence of medieval and Elisabethan fashion in his designs). it was also a thing for rich families to just kinda... invest in recreations of historical pieces of clothing and LARP in them.

Jessamine's clothes, in particular, reminded me of Spanish court dresses. especially of the portraits of Anne of Austria and Elisabeth of Valois

obsessed with those slit sleeves. too bad Jessamine didn't go the extra mile to have the sleeves hang long and heavy around her arms but they were more form fitting

there is also something to be said about the tall white (possibly starched lace) collar and the style of clasps used on her clothes

the mini cape thing she has on top is more similar to the style of capes worn by men in renaissance, but yeah, of course she reminded me of a Spanish princess when this is one of the most given example portraits for this style

I wonder if this was an intentional choice on the designer's side or if they were just inspired by the revivalism present in 19th century fashion. what really makes me consider that though is that one of her earlier designs has those sleeves much, Much more pronounced and obvious

oh the things that could have been...

still, it makes me wonder: if this was intentional, what does this tell us about Jessamine, and the history of the Isles themselves?

[the-river-runs]

My best friend Fandom has once again returned and asked me to post to Tumblr for her! Once again, I have permission to post this video and all edits were done by Fandom (http.redshoes on Instagram)

These memes are all based on Cryptid Sightings by @naffeclipse

She has a lot to say this time around!

A message from Fandom:

"Hello Naff!! And hello everyone :D

It’s me, your girl, your local meme and edit maker, Fandom (aka http.redshoes on Insta 😎)

I’ve come back to make another meme comp for you guys! I wanted to make this earlier, but:

1. I was busy saving/collecting ATSV content on Instagram like Pokémon to getting noticed twice by Jack in the Box ☺️

2. I had to create an Ao3 account (understandably ofc AI theft sucks) and was um. You know… being silly in the comment section 👀 (please don’t mind me if you ever stumble upon them - I react and appreciate the stuff I enjoy in weird ways 💔)

3. Was waiting for my friend here to finish reading so I didn’t spoil anything in the memes! We both loved the series so much and man. The Naff do be eclipsing fr in releasing chapters left and right biggest round of applause for one of my favorite authors here 👏👏👏

Naff, you did such a great job writing this fanfic. I’m going to repeat myself from the comment section BUT you need to give yourself a pat on the back, relax, take a break - just reward yourself. You deserve it all and I hope that you take care of yourself for all the hard work you’ve done 💞💞💞

I’ve also included the lovely artist themselves, @themeeplord , again in one of my meme comps.

It’s only one meme but dang they always draw Eclipse to be getting that gain 💪💪💪 (bc of how muscular he is haha.) Mad respect to all of the drawings they create - they’re always a banger to see.

(Most of the memes surround the last episode + epilogue so if you haven’t read those chapters LOOK ‼️ AWAY ‼️ Don’t get spoiled 🤯)

(P.S. for the imagine scenario that’s not a meme, this is what they’re saying in the audio:

“[Amused] You can hear their heartbeats? Come on, that’s a little far fetched.”

“[Soft chuckling] I can hear yours too… Your heart’s beating pretty fast.”

I’d like to think this would take place around the beginning of “The Episode Bedeviling Bodies,” where the Hunter is still trying to understand their dear friend and what they’re capable of. I thought it was fitting ngl and included it in the comp.

There were uh, more memes I wanted to include, but I’m running low on storage space atm. I’ll get back to making more after I’m done clearing that out ^^’)

(P.P.S. Okay I don’t have Tumblr obviously but 🕴️ apparently you guys really liked the SJ memes I made??? Because my friend’s been receiving notifs of it still??? Thank you so much you guys!! I didn’t really expect people to enjoy them that much 😭💘💘💘)

Now without further ado, enjoy the meme comp! >:D " -Fandom

[st4rstudent]

bedmac

[sketchy-tour]

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE IT!!! Otherwise, have an ABSOLUTELY lovely Thursday and I hope its still a warm day of family and love for you!

I'm grabbing each and every one of you and squeezing you very tight! I know I can't physically hug you but I'm hugging your hearts!!! Have a lovely lovely day! I'm thankful for all of you, thankful for this silly blog, thankful we can be silly together!!!!

🌻Take care of yourselves!!!!!🌻

[phantom-of-the-501st]

"Charles, will you ride with me?"

"Always."

I just got to the Murfree Brood mission again and I just can't with the two of them. Just peak Arthur and Charles. And this line