#nevermind that they’re like discontinued or something

[lydiaalin]

by god I would never buy clothes I can't try on first but my gay ass is longing for these pants I saw on a smosh short of all things

[tanadrin]

what we’re arguing about at this point is the fact that you seem to think people don’t genuinely believe the just world hypothesis, which is a bit of a digression from my original post, but worth getting into. because the typical mind fallacy--the idea that most or all people think like us, because we have a hard time imagining other people see the world in different ways--is one of those commonplace pieces of bull-headed stupidity that merits interrogation.

yes, the just world hypothesis is obviously false to you and me. but the whole reason the book of job was written, the whole reason that this topic is a complex issue that rears its head not only across ancient southwest asian theodicy but in theodicy and philosophy for centuries afterward and into the present day, is because people genuinely believe it. and study of the just world hypothesis is, i think, on pretty firm footing in showing that this isn’t just a quirk of some theological traditions, but that there’s a fundamental cognitive bias at work, where a lot of people fall into this trap of thinking that bad things happen to people who deserve it.

i think that’s interesting! i think it points to something worth pondering in the human condition, all the more because i think it’s wrong. and i think to come along and scoff and say smugly, well, i think this is ridiculous, therefore no one can possibly genuinely believe this, they must be lying to others or to themselves, is actually really arrogant and seems to be to be a really caustic and unempathetic arrogance. like yeah! people do in fact believe this, not because they’re stupid or evil, but because this is a common psychological trap, something we are all prone to, and therefore something we should have a measure of patience about--rather than dismissing as a thing that doesn’t exist.

if you cannot imagine that people genuinely perceive the world in ways different from you--including ways that seem obviously wrong--you can’t really do the basic imaginative work necessary to engage with literature from other times and places on its own terms. nevermind that you’ll struggle to understand people in your own time and place, who may have significant discontinuities with you in their worldview, despite sharing a host of common assumptions. i think it’s worth being self-critical about that kind of thing.

the book of job is so interesting to me because it's the closest an ancient book of religious scripture seems to come to admitting that any attempt to seek theodicy is in vain--i.e., that a plan of divine justice can't be found because it doesn't exist. like, god not only rebukes job at the end, but he completely ignores job's (extremely reasonable) demands for an explanation, and the only thing that rescues god for the reader, gives some hint that this whole "god" thing isn't a post-hoc attempt to salvage a just world out of a universe that is in fact quite uncaring about humans in particular, is the fact that job's life ends happier than it began.

and yet somehow this story became a landmark of both jewish and christian literature! i think perhaps it's because god's whole "who are you to question me" attitude to job is very useful in service of defending religious authority, and the speeches by job's friends that intimate if you're suffering you must have done something to deserve it, even if you don't know what, also can be used to defend orthodoxy when shorn of context. but as a complete literary object, the book feels to me at best a divine version of the Melian Dialogue, and maybe even as a repudiation of, rather than an attempt to defend, a notion of divine justice. like, the whole point of the story is that job is upright and blameless, that god lets satan fuck him over for no reason. we are told this explicitly. and no amount of "you are just a mortal being, you cannot possibly understand" at the end can make up for the fact that we are told explicitly in the beginning, "the moral of this story is that this god fellow is a real son of a bitch."

[contemplativepancakes]

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush. 

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy. 

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?” 

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch. 

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks. 

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself. 

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt. 

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room. 

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit. 

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more. 

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man.  Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it. 

Fuck. 

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads,  out of stock  blinks back at him. 

Double fuck. 

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it? 

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason. 

Geralt huffs at the thought. 

- 

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly. 

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot. 

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion. 

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it. 

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn. 

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages. 

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!” 

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated. 

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks. 

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?” 

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question. 

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully. 

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps. 

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words. 

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often. 

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car. 

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies. 

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off. 

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway. 

-

Geralt looks down at his phone.  yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing  Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text. 

See you then  , he types, and goes back to make the  s  lowercase. 

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are  you  texting?” Geralt retorts weakly. 

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back. 

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear. 

-

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet. 

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral. 

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. 

-

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky. 

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over. 

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground. 

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten. 

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits. 

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue. 

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting. 

-

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video. 

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a  thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition. 

He could be talking about anyone. 

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway. 

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask. 

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile. 

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and  hmm s right back. 

-

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin. 

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. 

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time. 

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him. 

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my  name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss. 

Geralt goes without complaint. 

-

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard. 

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him. 

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him. 

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter. 

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one. 

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

-

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across  the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal. 

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table. 

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side. 

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously. 

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier. 

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile. 

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest. 

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly. 

“You have no idea.” 

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk. 

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?” 

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says. 

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering. 

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple. 

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him. 

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution. 

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so. 

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?” 

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks. 

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks. 

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces. 

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay. 

[vore-scientist]

An Honest Mistake

[Safe/soft GT vore, male pred & female prey + female observer. Fearplay with especially brave prey. Fantasy setting]

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Proper Title: In Which a Young Knight Takes on a Quest That Was Not Meant For Her and Has Tea With an Old Friend

Content Warnings: Yonah gets a cut on his hand and uses it for intimidation purposes + interesting fearplay aspects since the prey is a proper noble knight and willing to “sacrifice” herself (obviously she lives. it just get a bit intense for her). To go into details here would be spoilers. Do not hesitate to privately message me if you feel you need me to elaborate! 

All characters are my OCs and they are all adults! 

[Special thanks to @nommy-thoughts for beta-reading!]

---

Nothing much had changed since she last set foot in the City of Luster but five years does make some difference. Everything seemed bigger and grander, but also a bit smaller. For Zelda had grown a lot, she almost was as tall as the horse she was leading; she could look it in the eyes at least, if she stood on her tiptoes. Most girls stop gaining height at around 16, but not her. She kept right on growing, up and out. Now she was 18 and finally slowing down. Height and brawn were good things, considering the reason she left home was to become a knight. 

Now she was back and had a lot of catching up to do. Knight School is one of those things that takes many years, and you’re not allowed much contact with the outside world. Knights are above gossip after all. All she knew was that Princess Ilana was going to be married in about two months. 

That was the main reason she was even Luster and not off adventuring. It was going to be a big party. And she had almost missed it. Or missed the RSVP date, since the Grand Master Knights kept the mail from the apprentices for 1 month unless it was an emergency. Again, the gossip thing. No distractions allowed. Thankfully, she made it to Journeyer and was given access to her mail a week early.

 The first thing Zelda opened was the most fancy and official of envelopes. Turned out to be a wedding invitation.

 Journeyer Knights got to go on Journeys and take on their first quests! And there were always minor quests being posted about in Luster, it was a veritable hub of job listings, quests, and fairytales. Zelda was sure to find one in no time. And perhaps involving someone else she knew. For she had grown up friends with the royals of Orr. Who knows what they’ve gotten up to in the last five years.

 Especially the Princess Sophia. That twerp of a Princess was always getting into some sort of trouble. Not scandal worthy, most of the time.

 As her thoughts turned to Sophia, the Knight passed by a particular bakery. The Taste of Victory. A popular spot among leaving and returning questers. A memory burst into her mind, and she tied up her horse on a lamppost and headed inside.

 It smelled exactly like how she remembered. Like honey, spices, and heaven. It was nearing noon and the savory scents of meat filled pastries came from the back, though the sweet cakes and confections that surrounded the walls were much stronger. The two, sweet and savory, did not conflict, rather they danced into her nose.

 “Now there’s a face I haven’t seen in a long time. All grown up! I barely recognized you! Unless you’re not Zelda Barzilay.”

 The Journeyer Baker hadn’t changed a bit; they barely looked older. The same long blonde hair and green-grey eyes, a pudgy face and body to go with it. Though… they must be a Master by now.

 “Or is it Sir Zelda now?”

 Zelda ran her hands through her thick but two inch long hair as she walked up to the counter, “It is indeed, hence the hair. All trainees must keep it short. However, I’m growing it out again. I expect you are now Master Aloni?”

 Aloni beamed, “I’m running the whole shebang now! I have my own Apprentice, but they’re out on deliveries. I don’t miss that job but I do miss the people.”

 “Do you have any koftashen?”

 “Now, that’s also a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Aloni sounded sorry, but there was a hint of cheekiness in their voice.

 Zelda’s face fell. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it would have been a nice surprise.

 “But that doesn’t mean I can’t make one! It’s not like we don’t have the pastry dough. Just that particular combo was never that popular, it was just-”

 “Sophia and I’s favorite.”

 “Sophia was pretty much the only reason we stocked it. Not wise to discontinue a Royal’s favorite, even if her preference didn’t start a trend.” Unlike some items, like the special maamoul that became Prince Daniel’s favorite. Daniel was a trendsetter and they couldn't stock the product fast enough. 

Many knights are airheads, just minor nobles or lucky commoners who got picked to train as heroes. So most didn’t think about much beyond honor and fighting. Puzzle solving was for clever folk like wizards. Zelda wasn’t exactly a genius, but she started to connect the dots, and worry filled her stomach.

 “Wait- Did something happen to Sophia?”

 Aloni looked a bit surprised then recovered, “Right, you wouldn't have heard, though it wasn’t exactly huge news. Kinda weird now that I think about it. There was no big hullabaloo or anything! Just kinda got around. I only heard by eavesdropping on, - uh, thanks to gossiping customers. Glad I did; I had to throw out a lot of stale kofts. I mean, It would have been nice to get a heads up-”

 “What happened!”

 “Calm down, she was just kidnapped!- Hey watch it!”

CRASH

Zelda had slammed a fist on the counter and a glass container of cookies fell to the floor.

 “Just kidnapped!”

 “Yeah, by an evil witch or something.”

 “What!? When did this happen?”

 “I- I don’t know, a while ago?”

 “And she’s not been rescued!?”

 Aloni’s placidity made Zelda furious. And as they shook their head, Zelda grew worried. An unknown number of months and no rescue. Why had no one told her? Gossip or not, the kidnapping of her childhood friend was a big deal. There was no telling what state she was in now.

 “Hey why don’t you give it a go!”

 Zelda stopped fuming. “Wha-”

 “She probably hasn’t been rescued because the right person hasn’t made the attempt! You two were great friends, so maybe it’s your fate!”

 A random person had walked into the store but slowly backed out, hanging around outside. Best not to get involved with knights. You tend to get roped into adventures where anyone but the knight is expendable. After centuries of this, the populace had managed to catch on. Though there are still those reckless enough and foolish enough to get caught up in the excitement.

 “I-” Zelda brightened, “It must be! Of course! My friend: kidnapped while I was in school! And then it’s the first thing I learn of when I return home to visit her. If that’s not the start of my first fairytale I don’t know what is.”

 Then she paused.

 “Uh, you don’t happen to know where Sophia was kidnapped to, do you?”

 Aloni held out their hands, “Sorry Zelda, I’m not even sure she was kidnapped by a witch. But, I can whip up some koftashen to take with you!”

 “That would be great, and uh-” Zelda looked at the glass and cookies by her feet. “I’ll pay for this…”

 ---

 Since Zelda had paid for them she munched on the least messed up cookies that had not touched the floor and had no glass pieces in them as she continued towards the castle on the other side of town. Surely someone must know more details about Sophia’s kidnapping.

 “Sophia… the royal one? No, don't know a thing.”

 “Kidnapped you say?”

 “Good, it will keep her out of trouble.”

 “Sorry, I remember hearing about it maybe a year ago, but not who told me.”

 Seemed like either people didn’t know or knew as much as Aloni. Or that the troublemaker was finally being dealt with. People knew Sophia. The princess with an unfortunate reputation. Not that she had caused any undue damage in the city, but people talked about how much of a pain in the ass she was for her father. Not the best reputation. At least no one outright hated her.

 The common folk were clearly the wrong people to be asking. Someone closer to the inner workings of the kingdom. Ah, there was a Mage Guard.

 “Hey, you, Ranger fellow!” The ranger, who had been leaving a textile’s shop holding a lot of cloth didn’t startle (too well trained), but he raised a brow and nodded.

 “Yes, Sir?” as if he was not sure if what he was seeing was a Knight.

 “Sir Zelda Barzilay! A pleasant afternoon to you,” she gave him a shallow, respectful bow.

 The ranger sighed, adjusting his hold on his fabrics, “If we must talk, can we at least walk?”

 “Oh,” Zelda’s face grew hot, guess she was interrupting official business, “I can help you. Why don't you let my horse carry that?”

 The ranger’s attitude improved at the suggestion, though Nechesh’s suffered. She was already carrying all of Zelda’s stuff and was not a pack animal! But as a Knight’s Steed she was also steadfast and hardworking. She could handle a few pounds of fabric.

 “I am Master Ranger Nimrod, What did you want to talk about, Sir Zelda?”

 A Master Ranger? What was a Master Ranger doing errands for? Nevermind that, not her business.

 “I heard The Princess Sophia was kidnapped recently, and I hoped you might know something.”

 Ranger Nimrod stopped and looked Zelda up and down. He was shorter than her by a few inches, though his magical aura gave him a large presence. Rangers were known for being clever and perceptive. Was he sizing her up? Was that concern in his eyes? Could he tell she had only just become a journeyer, having earned the right to be called Sir only a few months ago? Would he refuse to tell her based on her inexperience?

 “I'm guessing you want to rescue her;  a bold task for such a fresh knight.”

 “She’s my friend!”

 That got her a shocked look.

 “Really now! That’s a bit different. The Princess Sophia was kidnapped by a mage and taken to his tower in the Mystic Woods.”

 Zelda stopped. And laughed.

 Of Course! Why hadn’t she thought of that. Stupid! Of course Ben would have hired a mage who lives in the Mystic Woods. That way he could be sure she was safe. Zelda didn’t know much about how being King of the Mystic Woods worked, but she knew he had some freaky connection, like he was part of the forest or it was part of him? Something like that. Magical bullshit wasn’t her speciality.

 And of COURSE she was in a tower. Sophia never cut her damn hair in all the years Zelda knew her. That was practically begging to be stuck in a tower.

 Finally she composed herself.

 “Then I, Sir Zelda Barzilay child of Sarai Barzilay, Knight Of Orr, shall rescue her!”

 She turned to the ranger, “Thank you!”

 A hand caught the back of her armor as she started to lead Nechesh away.

 “Not so fast, Young Knight. You said you would help me. Complete one quest first.”

 Right. Her cheeks red, she turned around, and followed the ranger.

 TO THE CASTLE!

 No no. She couldn’t go inside. Telling anyone else about her plans would make the expectations too high and she would fuck up somehow. But the ranger insisted she see this through. They left Nechesh in the front stable, each taking half the rolls of fabric. Trying to be inconspicuous, she passed into the main entrance.

 Where they were greeted by Princess Sasha.

 And Zelda nearly dropped her cargo.

 The princess’s loose wavy dark brown hair was practically glittering around their light brown face. And to wrap it all up, their honey brown eyes shone brightly. Their plump cheeks were almost flawless, though make-up was playing a part, and they were dressed in stunning greens and yellows.

 Had Sasha always been this lovely? 

 Certainly they had always been cute, but the last time Zelda has seen them was when they were both 13. They had been in the same year for their Transitionary Classes. Royals didn’t attend commoner school except for certain special classes between the ages of 12 and 14, when everyone in the kingdom undertakes their first apprenticeship and also a deep dive into their country’s history and culture. Immersing themselves in language and arts and dedicating themselves to an assigned task. And at the end was thrown a big celebration; for those who have now taken their first steps towards adulthood.

 Some people, like Zelda and Sasha, manage to finish their training in a year. Others took two or even three, but it doesn’t matter how long. 

There are parties held for those who complete their work at the end of the year. And when that included a royal, well, those begame legendary. For the capital city’s 13 year olds at least. Sasha’s party had been the most memorable night for Zelda’s 13 years of life. The princess had even danced with her.

 That’s when she resolved to save Sasha’s sister. She could not let this family down.

 “Ohmygods is that Zelda you’re so tall!” The princess rushed up and hugged Zelda as the knight’s thoughts and feelings processed. The princess, though her equal in age, came up to her chest. It couldn’t have been comfortable, she had armor on!

 “It is an honor to see you again Your Highness.”

 Sasha laughed, “I bet it is. That must be the materials for our dresses. Thank you Master Nimrod, I hope such a task wasn’t too easy for you.”

 It was a kind of silly mission for a high ranking ranger.

 “I guarded the fabric with my life, Highness.”

 He gave a small bow before leaving his load with a servant. Leaving Zelda alone with Sasha. And the servant.

 “Uh, I must be going too, I uh, have a quest.”

 There was a flash of disappointment in Sasha’s face.

 “But? You just got here,” they said. “You are still welcome in the castle you know! Don’t you need to rest up before your quest?”

 Spending a night at the castle was extremely tempting. But she had stayed at an inn outside town before gathering the courage to enter. Both she and Nechesh were well rested. However.

 “I could use a few supplies. A ration pack, if your rangers can spare one. My quest is taking me into the Mystic woods.”

 Sasha nodded.

 “And when I’m done I’m coming right back here! I promise. And! I’m going to the wedding. Carrying all this fabric has made me realize I don’t have an outfit!”

 Sasha took Zelda’s hand, “Please, I would hate myself if you didn’t use the royal seamstresses. You’ve been a friend to so many of us. And I’ll see you get that pack.”

 There was no way Zelda could just leave. Not now.

 “I, suppose I could stay for an hour or two, I only had cookies for lunch.”

 The princess beamed, “I haven’t even eaten yet! Come on.”

 And she was led away, after another servant took the rest of the fabric.

 —-

 Staying for the next hour had been a mistake. Now she didn’t want to leave, catching up with Sasha had been so much fun and she only wanted to keep talking. But she knew she had to. No one else could rescue the Princess Sophia. If no one had done so in several months, that must mean she was meant to do it. One of the princess’s best friends!

 Sasha saw her out of the castle, and Zelda put on her helmet before mounting Nechesh and setting her off at a slow trot back out of the city in the direction of the Mystic Woods.

 ---

 There was no point in asking where the tower was, at least not until in the forest, as unless the information is fresh, it’s not worth anything. The only person who could tell where anything is with any accuracy would be the King. But even if she could have asked King Ben before heading out, the location could shift before she made it to the border.

 So she just went straight in with no plan at all other than to question anyone she came across if they seemed friendly.

 While she didn’t regret taking extra time in the city it did mean she arrived in the forest as the sun was going down. Not really safe to sleep out in the open and thus priority changed from finding Sophia’s prison to finding a place to camp for the night. Anywhere would do.

 It would be a pity for the koftashen to go stale.

 As if the Mystic Woods shared her agency with regards to delivering fresh baked goods, the Knight and her Horse suddenly left the cover of the trees and found themselves on the edge of a clearing. A clearing filled with an orchard, a garden, and.

 A tower.

 But was it The Tower? Sleeping in one of the trees outside would be better than sleeping in some random evil mage’s tower.

 Zelda had to at least check it out.

 “Shhh” she dismounted and quieted Nechesh at the edge of the garden. Surely that wouldn’t shift away from the tower! And she crept forward.

 The proper thing to do would be to wait for the morning, or just any daytime hour. Wait for the mage to leave and then call out for Sophia to lower her hair.

 However, Zelda was not patient, and judging by the height of the tower, even Sophia’s hair couldn’t serve as a rope. Plus the pastries.

 “AHHHHHHGGH” the scream of a young woman broke the silence, accompanied by a terrible laughter.

 From a scream like that, Zelda was a bit surprised how sure she was that it was definitely Sophia. It was hard to tell the scream had been agony, or Terror, or excitement. Had she come at just the right moment!? What kind of torture was she enduring? Zelda couldn’t even imagine what a mage could invent.

 She ran to the tower intending to climb but to her dismay the thick and sturdy vines were full of thorns. This could only be scaled with care. As she climbed, the voices faded, but it didn’t sound like anyone had died. Just the sound had retreated as if Sophia and her captor had left the room at the top of the tower.

 At least Zelda hoped that was the case. 

Fuck! Climbing with armor on sucked a lot! At least it protected her from the thorns; she couldn’t feel them at all! She just had to watch out for her hands, which were unfortunately only adorned in leather.

 It took awhile but she made it up, and looked into a dimly lit workshop that definitely belonged to a mage. Staring into it hurt her brain, her eyes strained and a smidgen of nausea hit.

 She had to sit down and gain her strength back anyways. Good thing she did, for as she sat the perspective shifted. Her nausea went away but her heart sank and her blood went cold.

 For the workshop, which had been completely normal, was now over three times its original size. The drop from the windowsill to the floor? From 4 feet to 15. Impossible to jump down through making a lot of noise.

 And in her armor she would make a terrible racket. Not a good thing when dealing with a giant. For if the mage fit the workshop, he had to be massive. What was he? An overgrown troll? Giants she had seen, they were massive and combating them required special training and tools. Which she didn’t have. But this space wasn’t large enough for a proper giant.

 Not important. Sophia was here! She needed to be rescued.

 Carefully and silently, as the massive candle on the massive desk slowly melted, she took off her armor. Taking off armor doesn’t take as long as donning it, but it still took several minutes to do so without making a sound. Soon she was in under armor silks, though she kept her sword and helmet. And the satchel of koftashen.

 Without her clanking boots, she landed with a soft THUMP on the floor, and she ran for the trapdoor she had seen. There had to be a way to open it. There just had to! But there wasn’t. Why would a giant mage make it easy for his princess to run away by giving her a convenient door?

She circled it many times, searching for something. Anything. 

Aha! 

 A small crack. Actually a large one, but small for a giant door. A natural hole in the wood that had been rounded and sanded. She lowered herself cautiously. Holding onto the edge with her hands, she dangled above nothing, the drop farther than her feet could reach. It would be on faith that the drop was not a fatal distance.

 She let go.

 It was still a shock, but the fall was only a few feet. The first step on a giant staircase. The steps were each about 4ft in height, not fun to climb down but not dangerous.

 At the first landing, she had to stop. Holy hell, she was getting tired. If she didn’t find Sophia on this level, she would hide and sleep.

 It was quaint and peaceful. A picture perfect living room with a big armchair with a futon and matching couch. A full bookshelf with books both human and giant sized. A coffee table with a goblet of wine that had to have been left out hours ago. And a brick fireplace.

 Even though there were no windows on the outside of the tower, there were on the inside. And as the last embers of a fire merrily crackled, star and moon light shown in through what had to be magic windows.

 That armchair, even though it must have thick rough fabric, called to her to climb up and curl into a corner to sleep. No! She would search this floor and if she didn’t find the princess then she would find a real hiding spot, not pass out someplace in the open.

 Keeping to the walls that were cast in shadows because it was now officially night probably would have been the best course of action. Yet something inside her made her scurry between the furniture, crawl under the couch. Oh hey! A gold piece. Peek out from the feet of the armchair, and even climb up to get a sip of the long forgotten wine. Much of the alcohol had evaporated. It was also very very sweet.

 Get back to it!! Her brain screamed, and she scrambled back down.

 The living room led into two hallways, so she picked the left one. It seemed just as good as the right. Now she stayed close to the wall, and stepped with care. Slow going but safe.

 Was that a light up ahead? She flattened herself against the wall and held her breath. Footsteps soon reached her ears. Soft ones.

 Five years had not changed Sophia very much. Not like they had for Zelda. There was a big difference between 13 to 18 and 16 to 21. Sophia was exactly the same height as before, only her body’s proportions adjusted to her age, and her hair was even longer. The princess was holding a dim light in her hands, dressed in a nightgown, and was walking towards her! 

As she neared, Zelda saw the sleepiness in her face; the princess walked right by her, even as the light shone on Zelda’s person as she passed. Then, after walking a few more paces she froze. And walked backwards.

 Sophia’s sleepy visage was replaced by shock and then, joy? But not the joy of seeing an old friend. This was the face Sophia always wore when she was about to get into big trouble, and have fun doing it. Sophia opened her mouth.

 NO!

 Zelda pounced, putting the princess into a one armed hold, her other hand she pressed to Sophia’s mouth to keep her quiet. She did not want to deal with a giant mage if she didn’t have to. Sophia’s eyes got wide with fear and anger, and fought against the embrace.

 She was stronger than Zelda anticipated, and managed to move the hand, just enough to-

 YIPE!

 Sophia bit down hard, but Zelda only let out a small cry. Knights know how to remain steadfast under assault, though she was surprised. Plus she still had on leather gloves.

 “Let go of me!” Sophia hissed. She would not be rescued.

 “Sophia, it’s me!” Zelda stepped away and raised her visor, and Sophia held up the magelight.

 “No way, Zelda!?” Could it really be her friend? It had been so long. And she was so big now!

 “Shhhh!” Was Sophia crazy? They could not be found out.

 Sophia’s expression darkened even as the light grew brighter. This was her friend after all.

 “What are you doing here!?” she demanded, her voice mercifully low.

 Was she serious? Sophia was a captive princess, and Zelda was a knight! What else would she be doing?

 “Rescuing you, dummy!” Zelda whispered. Then remembered that Sophia was out and about. Perhaps whatever terror she just endured has inspired her? “Wait, are you escaping?”

 Sophia, who had taken a rather professional defensive stance, relaxed and stood up. Not that it made much difference. She looked a bit annoyed and disappointed.

 “No. Zelda, I don't want to be rescued.” She made sure her tone was low and serious; she had no patience for those who disrespect her wishes. And even if Zelda was her friend, things change, and going off to knight school could have turned her foolish.

 Zelda regretted showing her face, for it was surely as red as a tomato. She had not considered Sophia might be here by choice. That was known to happen. But even most royals who elect to be kidnapped did so just to get rescued. It was rare that they wanted to stay. Given that Sophia’s kidnapping hadn’t been a big deal back in Orr, it now made sense that it was because rescue was never the plan.

 “You’re sure? You’re not enchanted to say that?” Which was another possibility.

 Sophia rolled her eyes. She wished people would just believe her. “If I was, the spell wouldn’t let me tell you.”

 No. Such spells never did. It was very irritating. But she couldn’t leave now! She just got here and she wanted to talk to her friend. So she took the satchel and presented it to the princess. Sophia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 “I hope you’re not trying to trick me or-”

 “No! It’s-”

 Sophia held up a hand, “Actually, let’s continue talking somewhere else. Plus, I still need to pee.”

 Zelda gave her a questioning look.

 “I was heading to the bathroom, Zelda,” Sophia sneered, and continued walking. Zelda ran to catch up when she finished processing and returned the satchel to her back. Matching pace with the princess they walked side by side. Sophia was walking rather fast.

 “You’re not locked in a cage?”

 “Not locked up, no.”

 “So how long have you been here? No one back home could agree, some said a year, some said only a few months.”

 Hmmm. Sophia considered, “I think it’s almost 8 months now!” She had a smile on her face, “Time really flies huh! How long ago did you go off to be a knight?”

 “Five years- and I am a knight now!”

 “Congrats!” Sophia was very sincere. She was proud of her friend!

 They stopped talking when they made it to the stairs.

 “You have to climb?”

 “I used to, but recent installations have made it easier.” She didn’t go into detail. But a few months ago, when it was clear Sophia was here to stay, Yonah had installed accommodations befitting a human resident.

 Sophia walked to the right hand side of the staircase, with intent to go further down. As she stepped down a new staircase appeared! A small one, for smallfolk. That ran alongside the giant. Why hadn’t Zelda seen that before? Now that she thought about it, that had definitely not been there.

 It was only about a flight’s worth down of the small stairs that a massive door appeared on the dark stone wall. Again, out of nowhere. It was unlocked and slightly ajar, and they both slipped in.

 “How about you wait outside.” The bathroom was large but she still wanted privacy.

 “Right.” She returned to the hallway, but leaned on the door, worried it would vanish otherwise.

 What a long trek just to use the bathroom at night! What if it had been some sort of emergency? Zelda was inclined to ask once Sophia was finished but also felt like that was a kind of awkward question. Also she was curious about what the bathroom looked like. It must be big. Was there a tiny toilet for Sophia? Again, she decided not to ask, not right away.

 It did take a little while for Sophia to return, but she did.

 “Since I’m already up, how about some tea?”

 Tea would go great with the koftashen! So Zelda agreed.

 They continued down the stairs into a kitchen.

 A big kitchen.

 Sophia led her to the counter, and as Sophia reached up and touched something, a ladder appeared! They both climbed up and walked over to the large stove. There was a kettle, large and metal and well loved. But how was Sophia going to use it?

 From behind a jar Sophia dragged out a smaller stove! And a smaller tea kettle. This one was shiny and new.

 Sophia went to the large sink on the other side of the counter and pushed the faucet handle with all her strength. The water was too far to reach so she hopped into the sink and held the kettle underneath. She returned with very wet feet and the edge of her nightgown dripping.

 The water now heating up, Sophia climbed up to the cabinets. Zelda followed, and found before her boxes and jars of dried leaves and fruits and spices. The smells almost made her pass out. She pulled her shirt over her face, but her eyes still stung.

 “You sure you know-” Zelda knew that Sophia didn’t know how to cook. None of the royals except maybe Daniel and Rosalind, could cook.

 “I can manage.” She looked a bit worried, and sniffed each item carefully before choosing what was clearly a pre-made blend, and a few extras. Hopefully it was all tea.

 From one of the corners she retrieved a teapot. She blew the dust off of it and sneezed.

 “Do you even know how to use that?” Because the amount of dust made Zelda wonder if it had ever been used.

 “I- do…” Sophia didn’t say anything else and climbed back down to the countertop.

 The water was ready and Sophia put her mysterious tea mixture into the pot then added the hot water. It had to steep so she went to find some teacups. That’s when they both heard it.

 Footsteps. And Zelda knew they could only belong to one who was properly sized for the tower.

 “It had to be now?!” She looked at Zelda with a sympathetic face. Maybe she could spare Zelda the humiliation. At the very least she could try. But Yonah was usually in the mood for a treat, and was a major asshole.

 The footsteps grew louder and Zelda stood up, putting on her helmet and unsheathing her sword.

 “Now what’s going on here?” the grumbling voice came a few seconds before it’s owner.

 Not in a nightgown, but in his full regalia, the half-giant wizard filled the entrance, in the dim kitchen his eyes were like torches. Then he snapped his fingers and the room filled with light. The two women blinked their vision back to clarity as he approached. He had not done his hair, so it billowed behind him, making him look even larger. He had not shaved, so he looked more wild. His massive rectangular nerd glasses did nothing to make him look less intimidating.

 “A knight” Yonah growled, “Trying to make your escape, princess?”

 Zelda recovered her stance but Sophia just crossed her arms.

 “No, Yonah. Just making tea.”

 “A likely story!” He slammed a hand down on the counter and they both backed up to the wall. Sophia didn’t think he’d hurt them, but fuck he was really scary. Zelda moved in front of her. “What did this knight do to convince you?”

 “Stay away from her, you monster!”

 “No- Zelda don’t”

 Zelda probably didn’t know that Yonah was just playing. That behind that snarling face was a half-giant having way too much fun. Sophia knew it.

 “It doesn’t really matter,” Yonah withdrew his hand and crossed his arms. “She knows the punishment for escaping.”

 He was so quick that even Zelda couldn’t react in time. Yonah had each human in a fist. Sophia continued to glare at him. Zelda struggled.

 “Let us go you idiot,” Sophia yelled. “Zelda wasn’t rescuing me!”

 Yonah faltered for only a moment, breaking character. She knew the knight's name! That was different. And the room did smell of tea, though it was a bit off. Sophia normally called for him if a knight showed up, she didn’t string them along. Unless this was a new tactic so that he could get extra treats! No. Her face was hard. He came to the conclusion that she didn't want him to eat this one. 

Well, that wasn’t up to her.

 “You really shouldn’t have come, foolish knight.” He eyed Zelda with a look of horrible gratitude. “I told her, if she tried to run,” he looked back at Sophia with accusation in his eyes and licked his lips, “I would eat her.”

 Sophia knew the glare was because she wasn’t playing along. Well, it was clear he’d made up his mind. If she continued to spoil the moment he might really punish her. Extra chores or exercises. Ugh. He’d definitely eat her too. She didn’t mind that so much anymore, and even enjoyed it sometimes, but it was still annoying. Fine. She’d play. A little.

 She screamed.

 /Fuck!/ Zelda thought. /Is this why she refused to be rescued? Her captor was a person-eating monster who would hunt them down?/ And Sophia had somehow thought that having tea would be safe. That it wouldn’t look suspicious?/

 The giant brought Sophia closer to his mouth.

 “NO!” Zelda bellowed. 

 Somehow she’d managed to swing her arms at the proper angle to slash her sword across the back of Yonah’s hand. He yelled, waving his hand and letting go, Sophia yelped as he squeezed her. Zelda was flung onto the counter, but she rolled and was uninjured.

 “Release her! Or I’ll-”

 “Do what, fight me?” Yonah backed away, not out of fear. He looked like he wanted her to try.

 Zelda couldn’t leap at him from the counter anymore.

 “I don’t need two morsels tonight, you might be able to slip away before I’m finished with the princess,” he taunted, his eyes glowing. “If you’re fast enough”

 Sophia knew exactly what he was going for. He couldn’t activate her curse while being watched, it was super obvious, and he didn’t like to eat her without it. Also he had done this play before. Not exactly like this, but the same threat, the same promise, which was just bait. Either they took it or fled, and Yonah would eat her and then be a complete dumbass and eat the knight too, giving himself a stomach ache. Would Zelda run or?-

 “Save yourself Zelda, I’ll make sure it takes a while to choke me down!” she said, a little flatly. 

 Yonah gave her a sly smile. Sophia felt a bit bad for her friend. Not that bad however, messing with people was fun. So she struggled in Yonah’s grasp and spit at his face, which only hit his glasses.

 “Never!” Zelda yelled with practiced ferocity. “If you’re fine with one morsel, then why not me instead!”

 Yonah laughed, “I was planning to eat you both earlier, and I could easily catch you! Or did you fail to realize that I am not a mere half-giant, but a great and powerful wizard!?”

 Zelda panicked. She had of course realized, she knew he was a mage before knowing he was a half-giant. But wizard? She was fucked. He never planned to let her go in the first place, he was just playing with his food.

 “If you eat her, then the knights will stop coming!”

 “So?” Yonah huffed, “I don’t like knights,” he held up his bleeding hand, and then licked the blood. That was a jerk move even for him, it would make being eaten even more unpleasant! However, it did make him look much more menacing.

 “But, she attracts them, and-”

 The giant’s laughter cut her off, “You’d rather offer yourself up, and let other knights meet the same fate, than let her die?”

 “No!” Zelda growled, “Someone will rescue her, but that won’t happen if she’s dead!”

 There was a long moment of silence. It was really just like 5 seconds but to Zelda it was an eternity, as time slowed down. The giant could just eat them both and get on with his life unburdened. Then things sped up as the giant laughed.

 “Very well then.” He smiled wide, his teeth glistening with his own blood.

 “Drop the princess,” Zelda ordered, but the giant still smiled.

 “You drop your sword first.”

 “Yonah don’t you dare drop me!” Sophia hissed, but couldn’t know if he heard her.

 Zelda waivered, but then relaxed her stance. Hanging her head, she let go and the sword clattered next to her. When she looked up the wizard still held her friend.

 “Well!”

 “Im not stupid, young knight, you need to drop all your weapons, I can’t have you damaging my poor stomach, not when it’s so excited to meet you!”

 And indeed as he pat his generous middle it let out a low rumble. Zelda paled. She was going to meet her end inside this giant, and there was nothing she could do about it. She would be gone and it would be a long time before anyone figured out what had happened to her.

 She removed the short sword from her back and the knives on her calves. And also her satchel of pastries. Soohia would find them later, a final gift. When she looked up again everything was distorted. Great. Her first quest and she would go down not fighting but crying. Maybe she didn’t deserve to be a knight.

 “Very good.”

 The giant took a step forward and released Sophia, who ran to hug the now trembling Zelda.

 Sophia wanted to tell her it would be alright, but explaining would just be putting off the inevitable. Zelda probably wouldn’t even believe her. And she still wasn’t sure if Yonah would punish her for it. Maybe by eating Zelda for real. Just because Yonah couldn’t kill her, didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to kill knights. He was in fact very much allowed to kill knights who tried to rescue her.

 So as Zelda cried into her shoulders, Sophia cried too. Fake tears but very convincing.

 No words were exchanged. Yonah placed his hand palm up and Zelda, head high, stepped on to it. She fell on her butt as he lifted her up, but her expression did not change. She would show no fear. Not of him. Not of death.

 “I want your word, promise Sophia will not be punished, and not be harmed!”

 The giant nodded, “I swear by the mountain gods of my kin.”

 At least most of the blood was gone, as he smiled wider and wider as she drew nearer his mouth. The fangs still had a red tinge to them and the smell lingered. It being from his own blood, that she had drawn, didn’t make it better. She nearly gagged as her torso was shoved into the maw.

 His tongue was so slimy, and it licked at her greedily. She didn’t know if it was a blessing that he hadn’t bit down on her. It was probably a worse death down in his stomach. Her heart beat faster and faster as she anticipated being swallowed down. The worst part was the giant was taking his damn time tasting her.

 Until one moment gravity shifted and she slid back, as the jaw widened so slightly so the tongue could help draw her back, though most of the work was from the giant's hands as he held her torso and pushed her gently.

 Sophia could barely watch as her childhood friend was swallowed down by her newest friend. It had taken a while but she did consider Yonah her friend. Unless he killed Zelda, then whatever connection that had would be destroyed forever. Thus she supervised as Yonah happily gulped down the rest of the knight, feet disappearing into his mouth and with a mighty swallow the weird swelling of his neck receded down, disappearing into his collar.

 He hiccuped, which looked painful and made Sophia smile. He smiled too.

 “I like a knight who doesn’t wear much armor! Much easier to get down, and tastier too!” He rubbed at his belly which was now full and happy.

 “Ok, you had your fun Yonah,” Sophia said, as he reached for her.

 The princess didn’t resist and let him hold her as he sat down at the kitchen table. He placed her on his shoulder and leaned back, undeservingly proud of himself. He’d done nothing. He was barely hurt! And he was acting like he defeated a proper enemy in battle.

 Sophia hopped off to his thigh and onto the table. Turning around, she crossed her arms. Yonah didn’t seem to care.

 “I mean it, you need to spit her out.”

 Yonah opened his eyes and looked up wistfully.

 “She’s not even struggling.”

 “Why would she? She’s accepted her death!”

 “Ah, well, I’m sure she’ll give me a good performance once my stomach acids start to go to work. They always do.”

 That got him a scream and a scramble but then.

 “I’ll never give you any such satisfaction!”

 Yonah sighed and patted his stomach. “Sure sure, whatever you say my little snack! You were delicious. Not as good as some other knights, but I’m not complaining.”

 This knight, Zelda, had actually been supremely tasty. And delightfully filling, so big and bulky, a challenge to swallow but so worth it. He wished he could keep her there longer. Ah well, he could always eat Sophia later if he felt peckish!

 Speaking of! The princess was back on his thigh, glaring at him with her warm brown eyes. Except they were so cold.

 “No, you’ll spit her out before she’s hurt at all!”

 Yonah sat up and held his hands with his palms forward.

 “Okay okay, Just give me a minute.”

 Sophia nodded, she knew Yonah had to catch his breath, or he might not be able to spit up her friend.

 “The blood was a little much,” Sophia critiqued, smirking.

 “Really? I thought it made me very savage looking.” He licked his lips again.

 “It did but it was gross!”

   Zelda didn’t think to do anything but curl up and cry, wait for the inevitable. It was humid and rank and dark. So completely dark. The slimy walls pushed at her, played with her. At least Sophia wasn’t in here.

 There was a lot of movement and talk from the giant, he was talking to Sophia! From the tone of his voice he barely cared that she was in his stomach, guess she was just food to him now. Wait. 

Were?

They talking about her?

 “I’m letting her out /mumble/ you owe me!”

 “Owe YOU- mumble- fucker!”

 “Cranky because I’m going to eat you?”

 The next shout from Sophia was incoherent as Zelda’s pulse roared in her ears. She’d let herself get eaten for nothing! Wait, no. The giant said let her out. Sophia had somehow convinced the giant to let them switch places! Well that wasn’t going to happen.

 A sharp movement at her shoulder told her the giant was poking at her.

 “I’m spitting you up now.”

 “THE HELL YOU ARE!”

 Sophia and Yonah stared at each other with disbelief.

 “You don’t really want to die do you?” Yonah poked his stomach again, a little warily.

 “Of course not! But I heard you. You’re going to eat Sophia!”

 The chuckles made her bounce.

 “I was going to regardless!”

 “Yonah” Sophia hissed lowly, “You’re not helping!”

 “You motherfucker! You lied!”

 Yonah stood up and walked over to the sink, which was still running. He plugged it and leaned over.

 And started hacking.

 The lump in his stomach didn’t move. He pressed a hand to his middle. Trying again. Blood rushed to his head and he wheezed. Nothing!

 Zelda spread out her arms and legs, bracing herself against the walls. It constricted, but was not strong enough.

 “You promised! You promised if you ate me you wouldn’t hurt Sophia!”

 A binding word like that was powerful and should he break it, there would be consequences. But if she didn’t die then that word meant nothing! And he could do what he wanted to Sophia.

 Yonah sat on the floor, trembling. Sophia ran up to him, her eyes almost alight with fire. She stood on his thigh and pounded on his stomach.

 “Zelda, don’t be a fool! He’s not going to hurt me! Don’t die for nothing!”

 Sophia looked up at Yonah with eyes full of hot tears. Yonah looked stricken, he didn’t want to kill Zelda either. He breathed. And spoke.

 “Z-Zelda was it? I really don’t want to kill you, and I could never hurt Sophia! I’ve got to spit you up.”

 “LIES!” She cried.

 Dammit Yonah! There was really no time to explain.

 “Zelda you have to trust me, Yonah’s my friend.” She glared at him, and he knew their friendship could end tonight.

 Yonah also knew that Zelda would pass out before his stomach did too much damage and he could spit her up then, just not unharmed. It was a last resort move.

 “Please, Zelda, I'm begging you.”

 Then she leaned her palms on the wizard, pressed into his stomach.

 “If you don’t let Yonah spit you up, I’ll go in and push you out!”

 “WHAT!” No. She wouldn’t dare. 

The air and flesh grew hotter around her and her skin was starting to sting.

 With a grunt Yonah stood up again. He wasn’t fully recovered, but he was going to make another attempt.

 “Last chance to make the return journey an easy one, I suggest you take it.” His voice rumbled. Then he made his voice soft as he rubbed his stomach. “I never intended to kill you, and definitely not Sophia.”

 Sophia had held onto his robes and scrambled up them, then leapt to the sink.

 Ok. Ok. As Zelda felt another twinge of pain her mind cleared for a second. It heard the pleading sorrowful tones.

 “Well!” The desperate voice of the giant flooded her chamber.

 “Ok!”

 She untensed, and as the stomach constricted, she held her hands in front of her and pushed off the bottom with her feet. Then, realizing she forgot to take a breath before the air was crushed out of her, she panicked. Her lungs burned, and even as her hands left the fleshy tunnel and touched air, she passed out.

 Yonah choked and felt the body of the human enter his chest, renewing him with strength. Filled fresh with resolve to get this human out of him alive, he doubled his efforts, and soon enough a body was sliding out his mouth.

 Sophia had anticipated this and was in the sink. She grabbed Zelda’s wrists and pulled. The larger woman fell on top of her in a heap. Sophia pulled off her helmet. Zelda’s  eyes were closed but she was breathing.

 A few seconds later she gasped back to consciousness. Sophia hugged her.

 “You’re so stupid!” Sophia was crying, “So so stupid!”

 Zelda laughed and then cowered as the shadow of Yonah’s head and shoulders loomed over them. His face was very red and his eyes a bit bloodshot and bleary from forcing himself to vomit. But he was smiling, even if he was wheezing.

 “You wouldn’t really have come after me, would you?”

 Sophia dropped Zelda with a splash and put her arms on her hips.

 “I sure would have!”

 She helped Zelda stand and led her to the faucet, which Yonah turned back on. Zelda took a cold and welcome shower, in her clothes which were quite possibly ruined. And Sophia finally explained everything. Especially about her curse. It took a lot of repeated statements about the half formed nature of the enchantment and the state of being glass, and saying over and over again that yes, it made her safe to be eaten.

 Once clean but still in shock, wrapped in a warm towel and given a cup of tea that Yonah brewed, which smelled much better than whatever Sophia had made. That batch had been left to steep too long anyway. They moved to the living room, Yonah in his armchair, Sophia in his lap, and Zelda on the coffee table.

 It wasn’t the most comfortable of midnight tea times, but Zelda noted how calm Sophia was as the half-giant played with her braided hair and stroked her back and arm. Almost like one would with a cat, only Sophia was a person. In fact she was a person Yonah was charged with protecting and teaching.

 Sophia had made her promise she would not tell anyone about the glass curse, for if that information made it to her father… Zelda agreed, Ben might just kill Yonah, but at the very least Sophia would be taken away, and her place was here. All her life she had wanted to learn magic, and now she had a teacher and a friend.

 Zelda was extended an invitation to spend the night, and she accepted without hesitation. As her adrenaline wore off, she was on the verge of falling asleep, and Sophia already nodded off a few times. In fact she startled away when Yonah stood up, but stayed in his hand as he carried her and Zelda to the bedroom.

 They were placed on the nightstand as he changed back into pajamas, and left to brush his teeth. Zelda walked over to examine the large golden birdcage. Through the bars she could see a suspended bed as well as a vanity and a few ornate chests and drawers.

 “So you are kept in a cage!” she said.

 “Not a locked one,” Sophia pointed out. “Yonah figured he’d uphold at least some of the traditions of evil giants. Though… I only use it about a two thirds of the time.”

 Zelda was about to ask why when Yonah sat on his bed and Sophia took a running jump and landed on his pillow.

 “You can sleep in my bed if you like, but if I were to make a suggestion-” She looked up at Yonah, who carefully lay down- “Yonah makes for a better one!”

 Having just taken a trip into the giant's stomach Zelda was not inclined to get so close to him. Sure, she let him pick her up, but being held and sleeping either on top of him or in his embrace were different things. Even if Sophia was looking at her with a hint of excitement, like they were kids again and this was a sleepover. It wasn’t. It was a botched fairytale.

 “I’ll take the cage,” she said, bowing her head a bit, “Goodnight Sophia. and you too, Yonah.”

 Of course the bed in the cage was luxurious, with the softest blankets and comfiest pillows. It swayed gently and Zelda started to question Sophia’s statement that Yonah was somehow a better bed, but fell asleep before the thoughts fully formed.

 ---

 She woke up dazed and confused, wondering where she was and how she had ended up in a cage! Alarm pulsed through her, chasing away her grogginess away and pulling along the memories of the previous day. The attempt at rescue, finding out Sophia was just fine. Being… eaten… and then spat up! That had all happened.

 Normally she started her mornings with exercises and stretches, so why should that change? The cage was roomy enough and the bars were perfect for doing things like pull-ups.

 “What are you doing?”

 Looking up, Zelda saw Sophia on the nightstand. Zelda had her legs hooked on the bars and was doing crunches. She did one more, then held herself up, one hand around a bar.

 “Knights don’t stay strong by slacking off,” Zelda said, and continued her reps.

 “I’ve been telling Sophia that she should work out in the mornings,” Yonah came to stand next to Sophia. Sophia whipped her head around.

 “But I don’t need to!” She cried.

 “It would be good if you could get around here without my carrying you,” he pointed out.

 “I do that just fine!”

 “You could do better, I don’t want you falling off things while I’m not here!”

 Zelda decided to tune them out. This didn’t concern her. Until.

 “Fine!” and Sophia climbed onto the cage and to the door. Yonah disappeared out of the room.

 “Zelda, could you show me some exercises that might make me a better climber?”

 Zelda dropped to the floor. “I certainly could!”

 “I’ve never known Her Royal Highness to be so easily convinced to do something she didn’t want to do,” Zelda pointed out as she showed Sophia how to use the bars of her cage to build up her arm strength.

 “Yeah well, I only agreed to after he agreed to do so with me.”

 Yonah returned about ten minutes later, freshly shaved. Out of a dresser, he fished a pair of overalls and thick plaid shirt, and from a wardrobe on top took out a smaller outfit, which he handed off to Sophia. Zelda felt suddenly self conscious in her undersilks, which weren’t exactly fresh and clean, nor proper clothes.

 Turns out Yonah had a set of clothes for her as well. Or at least the magic wardrobe did. Nothing fancy, but Sophia wasn’t wearing normal royal apparel. In fact she had on overalls. Except for her long intricate braid and sparkling golden tiara, she looked like a commoner. A farmer.

 The wizard did too, though with his bulky figure and hairy arms he looked more like a lumberjack who wouldn’t be out of place living in a cabin in the woods, not a grand magic tower. Zelda was still the odd one out but at least she wasn’t in what were essentially underwear.

 “Are you going to stay for breakfast?” Sophia asked.

 Oh she absolutely was. There was no way she wanted to make the trek back to the city on an empty stomach. SHIT. 

 “The pastries!” she wailed with despair.

 Yonah and Sophia looked at each other in confusion.

  Back in the kitchen, Zelda retrieved the satchel, which was right where she had dropped it last night. Miserably she showed Sophia, who understood her sorrow immediately.

 “You brought me koftashen?” she looked at Yonah, “These were my favorite from back home! But they do taste the best when fresh.”

 Yonah had been watching curiously and one corner of his mouth turned up.

 “How long ago were these baked?” he asked.

 “About a day,” Zelda said, “almost exactly a day.”

 “Perfect,” he held out his hand expectantly.

 Zelda took back the koftashen protectively. What if he just ate them! They could still be decent, even if they spent the night in the sack. They wouldn’t even be a proper bite for the wizard; he couldn’t appreciate them!

 “Oh! Do give them to him, Zelda,” Sophia didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

 She hesitated but trusted her friend.

 With the pastries in his palm his cupped them in his hands. Yonah’s eyes began to glow and he brought his hands to his mouth. Zelda was about to protest when Yonah blew into his hands and light flashed between his fingers. When he opened them up the savory smells spread out in a wave.

 “My friend Shoshana is a baker, she invented this spell,” he said, “As long as it’s only been a day or two, it can make most baked goods nearly fresh again. It doesn’t work on everything, but I had to try!”

 Sophia had gotten out a small plate and took the hot koftashen from Yonah’s hand. Small for Yonah that is, since it was a serving platter. “Smells like it worked!” she declared.

 Yonah worked quickly to set up before the goods cooled down. First he placed the princess and knight on the kitchen table, which had on top of it a smaller human sized table. It had only one chair, and no plates or utensils. Then He got the additional arrangements and to Zelda’s surprise, two more human sized chairs. 

 She watched with fascination as the half-giant took a pouch from his overall’s pocket and took out a small pinch of powder which he dabbed onto his tongue. Then he placed his hands on the table and said a spell in a language she recognized as giant but could not understand the words (Knights learn some giant, but mostly phrases needed to challenge them to battle). There was a puff of grey smoke and the wizard was hanging off the edge of the table but hauled himself up. Again Zelda was impressed, this time by his strength.

 He was still very large, probably a foot and half taller than herself, but should he claim to be human Zelda would believe it. Even with his very giant-folk fangs. There were plenty of humans with strange anatomical features, usually a manifestation of fey blood. Fairies certainly loved to fuck with humans in every way possible.

 It was definitely weird for all of them to be sitting at the human table. Yonah might look convincingly human, but he was meant to be a half-giant. Also, she and Sophia watched in anticipation as Yonah took a bite out of a koftashen. There was a palpable expectation for him to like Sophia’s favorite local confection.

 Inside the soft dough was a mixture of beef and lamb, and there was a crunch of collard greens. He recognized a lot of the spices as the flavor spread across his tongue, though there were aspects to the flavor he could not identify. He couldn’t call it a new favorite of his, but

 “This is very delicious!” he declared and Sophia beamed, finally taking a bite of her own, Zelda following suit.

 Yonah finished his rather quickly and got up to make himself the rest of his breakfast while the humans managed to fill up on koftashen. He also got himself a cup of coffee. Sophia didn’t drink it, but he asked Zelda, and she did.

 “I’m sorry this quest was a dud,” Sophia said, and Zelda stiffened.

 Should she talk about her failure so soon?

 “It’s not your fault, I should have done more research,” Zelda said, “I got a little ahead of myself at the prospect of rescuing a friend.”

 Sophia took a second pastry.

 “I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t eventually rescue someone royal.” She said it with her mouth full, and Zelda tried not to laugh, “Just not me. If I had to guess” she tapped the koft against her chin, “Probably Sasha!”

 “S-Sasha?”

 The wizard returned but didn’t interrupt the conversation, and tucked into his breakfast of buckwheat and fish.

 “They’re 18 now, and I know they want to have a fairytale.” Sophia took another bite before continuing, and Zelda was way too flustered to respond in the meantime, “And I know you have a crush on them.”

 Yonah almost choked, and Zelda nearly fainted.

 “Oh come on, I saw how you two danced at The Party.”

 Zelda remembered that very clearly, but it was 5 years ago and Sophia still remembered it too. How many other people knew?

 “And how you both hugged and cried the day you left for knight school.”

 It was embarrassing having her feelings exposed in front of what was essentially a stranger, even if he was Sophia’s friend. But Sophia’s words filled her with hope. How could she have been so stupid! Of course she was meant to complete a tale with Sasha. Everything made perfect sense, now that she thought about it.

 Finally it was time to leave. They all went up to the workshop and Zelda put on her armor. Yonah had moved it into a workbench drawer last night, though Zelda couldn’t think when he could have done that.

 “Shiny things left out tend to be stolen by the giant crows,” Yonah said, “They don’t bother people much, but you have to be careful with your stuff.”

 Nechesh was waiting in the orchard, overstuffed on magic apples but able to travel. Though she wouldn’t let Zelda mount her until she convinced Yonah to give them a bushel of apples to travel with. While Yonah gathered the apples, Sophia and Sasha said their farewells.

 “Guess I’ll see you at the wedding!” Zelda said. 2 months was much shorter than 5 years but it still felt like a long time before seeing her friend again.

 “Make sure you dance with Sasha,” Sophia advised, and Zelda nodded.

 Yonah finished fascening the basket to Nechesh and Zelda climbed on her back.

 Spurring her horse to a trot, she took one look back to wave goodbye. The little princess and her guardian wizard waving from the garden looked picture perfect.

 “I’ll save one dance for you,” Zelda said before out of earshot.  

 “I’ll hold you to that!”

 [FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

[crystalelemental]

Hey, they did do a Book 4 ending video, that’s cool.  I have some things to say.

So, it’s a cool little video that’s just aww, retrospective of Freyja taking care of Triandra and Plumeria, which is super cute now despite the fact that she openly admitted to just using them for her own purposes and made a neglected child the sex dreams fairy but nevermind that now.

But then suddenly, fucking Lif and Thrasir shows up out of goddamn nowhere, and things get interesting.  Lif invites them into their fold, claiming that “an unsavory cadre of gods may be able to grant your wish.”

Gods.  Plural.  Thorr is presumably one, since she recruited them in the Xenologue following Book 3.  So that’s neat.  Apparently they’re gathering forces from the defeated realms, and planning something against Askr.  I’m actually really interested in this.  Lif drops a name in reference to something coming, and apparently that’s the land of dwarves.  So that’s our next stop.

Now, all of this sounds really, really cool.  One problem.  This is a gacha.  And gacha won’t end a major plotline unless the game’s about to end.  FEH hasn’t really shown any sign of being in danger of discontinuing, so I’d be surprised if they were setting up endgame.  More likely, they’re just creating a hook, establishing that some force is gathering the defeated underlings to bring them back later.  I expect the same will happen in Book 5.  No mention at all of Lif, Thrasir, Triandra, or Plumeria will be made.  Peony will make no appearances outside of Forging Bonds, and nothing will come of any of this, until maybe the Xenologue or ending cinematic for Book 5, where again they come to collect the new batch of defeated minions or whatever.

Listen Heroes, I want to believe you actually have something cooking here.  That somewhere in all of this is a larger plot that matters and is super interesting and complex, and is going to make older characters return for more development and screen time.  But I can’t believe you have that in you.  Your character development throughout an entire book sucks, you expect me to believe you can do better with something longer-reaching?  You had thirteen chapters to work with Freyja and make her change from cold and self-interested to willing to die for her underlings to live, and they rushed it at the last second so they could squeeze in some bullshit about “oooh, maybe Sharena and Peony were actually switched around like Changelings, but it doesn’t actually matter so don’t worry about it, all that dialogue and tension was wasted!” and “Oh no, Alfonse is definitely totally dead in the real world and if you wake up it’s all over, how terrible oh wait actually he’s fine and none of this was real!”

Someone on the forum mentioned they think FEH’s stories would be better if they didn’t lock themselves into 13 chapters, and had more time to develop things.  I disagree.  I feel like this book, more than any other, really highlights how it’s an issue of misusing resources.  They had plenty of time to focus on Freyja, Triandra, and Plumeria.  They could have spent all that time on their relationship, Freyja’s conflicting feelings, and ended on a stronger note.  And instead they wanted to cobble together a bunch of meaningless subplots that literally go nowhere and refused to resolve.  FEH’s writing crew is just flat-out doing a terrible job, and they need to step up their game before I’ll even entertain the idea that they have a well-organized over-arching plotline.

[fanforfanatic]

We’ll Build a Treehouse

Relationships: Dean x Reader Rating: General Warnings: None, it’s fluff. Domestic fluff. A/N: Heavily inspired by the song That home by The Cinematic Orchestra

~1600 words

Summary: You and Dean move into a new place and, in most ways, it’s a step down from the bunker.

Read it on ao3

In most ways it's a step down from the bunker, the house you and Dean decide to settle down in.

It's newer than the bunker is, built in the fifties, but it feels older. Not the decor, or the style of its architecture, but in the way every single door groans when it's opened or closed. Some wallpaper panels are peeling- easy fix, Dean had said when you first moved in, but you still haven't gotten around to it.

The stairs creak, but that isn't all bad because it makes you two hear each other coming which helps you both not be so on edge, after a lifetime of nothing but the edge, edge of a cliff, of a knife, of the world. You’re agile enough to figure out where to step to keep the wood from giving and bending under your feet, to remain quiet, but neither of you ever does. Even that one Christmas when you knew Dean was secretly wrapping presents in the guest bedroom. In fact, you made your footfalls all the more deliberate for his sake, a heads up of sorts.

The floor isn’t levelled which you noticed the first time you played the game of mini golf Dean had bought as a joke. He complains each time you bust it out, only ever on rainy days, but helps you move the coffee table and ottomans- because you’re the kind of people that have ottomans, now- anyway. Dean swears up and down that a mistake was made when the house was built. He goes so far as to ask Sammy, living back East now, if you could sue.

You don’t like that. You don’t like that he thinks there’s something integrally wrong with your home and you tell him so. He doesn’t speak about the floors again, and the next time it rains, he takes out the mini golf set himself.

There are other things the bunker has that this house doesn’t. Multiple showers for one, but you and Dean learn to share. The arguably sinister but definitely convenient dungeon. Then again, you don’t have much use for it anymore.

Something the bunker will never have is windows.

The first time Dean drove you to visit the house, he’d seen it before you and decided it was perfect, he pulled out all the stops to convince you of that fact. He went on about the large yard that had trees- we can put a hammock in, the two-car garage he thought he could make a workshop out of- we’re going to need hobbies if we’re going to retire, baby, the extra bedroom- for when Sammy visits from school, the neighbourhood that was perfect for raising kids- forget the hammock, we’ll build a treehouse. You knew he had never really planned on a hammock.

It was kind of pointless, it’s not like you were picky, it’s not like you were going to put your metaphorical foot down and tell Dean to keep looking, this house just won’t do. You were willing and ready to go wherever Dean wanted to take you. Still are. You let him go on about the house anyway.

Only when you pulled up to it did Dean shut up so he could watch you take it in. You could picture the lawn looking half decent, if you put in the time. All the porch needed was a pair of wicker chairs to make it truly picturesque. The mailbox had a red lever, something you’d seen in illustrations but never in real life. You were on board. Then, you saw the windows and you were more than on board, you were sold.

They were wide and high and, in what would be the living room, they stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling. They breathed in the sunlight and breathed life into the house, making it glow from the inside out. It looked, for a moment, like that home you had dreamt of as a kid, curled up on yet another motel bed.

The window above the sink in the kitchen even had a ledge and you decided right then that you would learn to bake pies if only to place them there. We’re going to need hobbies if we’re going to retire, baby. When he’s right, he’s right.

You thought you couldn’t love this place- your place- any more, until you do. It happens when you start printing out old pictures. You’d had a habit of taking them on whatever crap phone of the week you were using, back when you were hunting. Dean used to tease you about it, mostly just for the sake of messing with you but sometimes it was bitter, coming from a place of sadness. He’d say that there was nothing worth documenting in their lives.

Still, when a Big Bad, few years back, got tech savvy and you and the Winchesters needed to go deep deep underground, barely ever using a computer, nevermind cell phones that weren’t burners, Dean went and bought you a polaroid camera. It was a discontinued model, so tracking down the special paper to refill it was a bitch, but you managed. Sometimes you went to replace the empty roll with one a new one you’d just bought, only to find someone had already done it.

It happens, the falling more in love with your place, when you buy a fancy new printer that connects to the internet all on its own. It even has bluetooth options which is what has you riffling through the pouch where you keep the fake IDs and fake credit cards and fake passports, fake everything… just in case. You and Dean are retired, you aren’t stupid. The bag also holds the old phones you couldn’t bring yourself to part with just in case someone who has the misfortune of knowing one of your numbers also has the misfortune of needing to use it. Dean keeps them charged, and it’s one of those mysteries for you, because you never actually see him do it.

You dig some out and once you figure out how to print pictures directly from the phones you get a little trigger happy. By the time Dean comes home, that night, you’re surrounded by at least a hundred photographs. Dean shakes his head, barely surprised by where the day has led, and joins you on the floor.

You spend all night going through the photos together, holding them over your faces as you lay on your backs. You laugh as you reminisce about the good times and you think Dean is a little stunned to find that he’s had so many. They must have snuck up on him, he says. You promise him that there are more to come and he believes you.

You have a brief conversation about picture frames but somehow the two of you end up taping the photos on the peeling wallpaper. You cover the entire wall and it looks mostly like a mess until it’s done. Finished, the disarray looks almost purposeful. Neither of you thinks you’ll be keeping the pictures up, in any case.

The next morning, you rush down the creaking steps, Dean hot on your heels, yelling for you to give him back his hair gel and laughing all the while. You come to a sudden halt, when you enter the living room. Your giggle- because you’re the kind of person who giggles, now- dies on your lips. Dean comes crashing into the room, loud and dareyouthinkit childlike, and stops just as abruptly as you had because of the same sight.

The early sun, still a little reddish from its slow and steady ascent in the sky, shines into the room, through the big windows- you never close the curtains- and warms the already rich wood. The room is lit up in a way that reveals how dusty the floor has gotten. You can even see the dust that dances in the air before resting on an available surface momentarily only to somehow float back up again in the still room.

The sun also brightens up every single photograph that the two of you spent the night putting up. A lot of them are taken from the backseat of the impala and feature both Sam and Dean, either with goofy faces on or the comically serious ones they sport whenever they argue like brothers do. Some are just of Sam, he’d made it a habit of sending you guys I’m-alive-and-well photos when he went back to school and he’s kept it up, even now. It was mostly for Dean’s peace of mind but you could tell Sam was having fun with it from the start, each picture more ridiculous than the last, each smile brighter and wider.

Some of the pictures are selfies and you remember cajoling Dean into agreeing to take them. Cas didn’t have to be coerced but his are mostly close-ups of his chin. Some of the pictures are group photos, you and Dean and the few friends you managed to make throughout your intertwined lives. The faces of those you didn’t managed to keep around, most of the faces, smile into the room, illuminating it like they’re hiding bits of the sun behind their teeth.

Nothing has ever looked quite so right to you as that room did just then and that’s when you fall more in love with this home of yours. You know that you won’t be taking the pictures down any time soon. Dean knows it too.

He wraps his arms around your hips from behind and places his chin on your shoulder. He lets out a content sigh and says, “I’ll get the tin box with the polaroids, later.”

That’s also when you fall a little more in love with Dean. Something else you hadn’t thought was possible.

Read it on ao3

[taeguboi]

INTERN PART 07

PART  01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06

Locking up behind him and chucking his house keys into his jacket pocket - and maybe, just maybe noticing that the scent of his jacket is becoming more of Jeongguk’s musky odour than of his own - Namjoon stops in his tracks and gasps.

“Oh! The cafe is only a few minutes away from here! Maybe I can drop by and get a sneaky peek of Seokjinnie’s date!” he squees, skipping out of the gateway, determined to keep up a positive mood tonight.

“I’m not sure I wanna be talking about my job” the man bluntly replies back.

“Oh?” questions Seokjin, leaning on one elbow, showing interest.

Trying not to appear rude, Hoseok leans forward on the table to speak more intimately and closely “I just had a bit of an unfortunate day today, and let’s just say… I want to keep my work life and personal life separate where possible.”

“Ah, no worries!” the elder smiles handsomely “I was just curious, that’s all. Sorry if I hit a sore spot there…” he apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, still with a winning smile, even if there is a hint of uneasiness in it.

“Well, if you must know, I’m an editor for an informative magazine…”

“Woah! I bet you’re one of those super smart types then! You must have so much knowledge in you!” Seokjin grins, feeling like a school girl admiring a hot teacher right now. “I do rather like to converse with people who aren’t completely dim, you know…”

“What do you do, Seokjin?”

“Please, call me ‘Jin; it’s easier to say,” the boy winks. “I…”

Now, Seokjin also never usually stutters or is at a loss for words when going out with a guy, but a distinct figure entering the cafe through the other side of the large glass doors and windows catches his eye, making his words falter. Granted, he might not have 20/20 perfect vision, but he knows who it is... who else around the area has violet hair?

Catching sight of Seokjin, Namjoon waves energetically at his roommate, pleased to have caught him on time. Not wanting to appear uncool, the elder simply nods in Namjoon’s direction to show some acknowledgement, but this doesn’t cease his roommate’s energy.

Making a bunch of gestures, Namjoon tries to silently send the message to Seokjin that he wants to see the face of his date and to get the stranger to turn around. He tries pointing his finger downwards and moving it about in a clockwise direction, pointing at the back of the head of the stranger followed by the circling of fingers around his own face, and even fully turning around himself in the middle of the cafe floor.

“Are you alright?” questions Hoseok to Seokjin, curious as to why the latter suddenly discontinued his sentence. Hoseok tilts his head to try and get a better idea of where Seokjin’s line of sight has wandered to, unknowing that the very guy that has been tugging at his patience for the past month is making a complete idiot of himself right behind him.

“Um, yeah, I just… Sorry. I do a few things for a living, actually… I model, I…” ‘Will that boy just stop already?!’ Seokjin thinks as his roommate continues to make all sorts of obvious gestures in the background; waving, twirling… is he dancing now? ‘Oh my goodness, stop! Why is he like this?!’

Meanwhile, in his own little world, flapping his arms about in the air for the third time now, Namjoon fails to notice another familiar face within the cafe and is startled when someone tickles under his armpits from behind, causing him to screech.

“Leela! Come here often?” Jeongguk questions, clearly way more pleased to Namjoon than he is him.

“Seokjin, are you sure you are alright?” Hoseok asks. “If you’re not feeling well, we can arrange another…”

“I really do apologise, I just thought I saw someone familiar…”

“Oh right? Whereabouts?” Hoseok enquires, turning around in his chair to look into the cafe.

Namjoon gasps dramatically as he spots the figure in front of Seokjin finally turning around, and in a panic, he ducks down, pulling Jeongguk with him.

“Shh!!” Namjoon urges, repeatedly pushing his finger to his hushing lips.

“Is this a game? How do we play? What are the rules?” Jeongguk asks excitedly, fists clenched in anticipation.

“Shut up writer!” Namjoon exclaims in a loud whisper.

“Writer? Oh come on Leela, we’re not in the office…”

“The editor! The editor is on a date with my roommate! Is this a dream? Please tell me this is a dream!” he whines. “Jeongguk! Pinch me!” he demands, suddenly clinging onto the younger’s upper arm desperately.

“Um, okay, that’s a very weird rule to your game, but okay…” he responds uncertainly, following Namjoon’s instruction and reaches out to pinch the flustered individual’s arm.

“Ah!” Namjoon cries out, releasing his grip on Jeongguk to rub his own arm.

“Sorry.” Jeongguk apologises, putting his head down.

“Omo…. This is definitely real!”

In the usual habit of talking out loud, Jeongguk speaks “I could swear I told Leela that he can do much better than editor Hoseok… Did I imagine it? Why is he practically stalking the guy out of office hours?”

“It’s not like that!” Namjoon protests, going into something of an hysterical mode. “Look, my roommate opposite the editor there is on a date…” he tells the writer, pointing shakily towards the glass door. “They’re on a date!”

“Woah, is your roommate a little on the desperate side tonight? Can he also do better than editor Hoseok?”

“You don’t like our editor, do you Jeongguk? I knew it! You pretend to unintentionally act incompetent, but your actions are all with the motive to piss him off!”

“Oh, Namjoon-ah! I didn’t know your tongue could produce such words!” Jeongguk responds. He pauses and then asks the one question on his mind right now  “So... why are we on the floor?”

Only just realizing he is still crouched down, Namjoon shoots up, warily looking around the cafe, trying to count how many people have just seen the ridiculous farce that is his life. Surprisingly, he only has the attention of just two boys in the booth beside where he and Jeongguk stand, and he can’t help but briefly eavesdrop when one of them quietly, but not that quietly, comments

“Oh, Jimin-ah, I think the brunette has a thing for the purple one.”

“Taehyung-ah, ‘the purple one’? You make him sound like a crayon! Is that how you go about referring to people?”

“Ah, shame really though…” the first boy sighs, shamelessly eyeing up Jeongguk with hooded eyes.

“You know, nevermind, I have been extremely rude already, so I insist that I pay for tonight’s order” Seokjin tells Hoseok, who is now turning back round to face his date.

“Not at all, think nothing of it; we all see faces around that we miss every now and then…”

“Oh, no, I don’t miss him, it’s just my roommate who I thought I saw… But something tells me there’s something on your mind, and I know we barely know each other, but sometimes it can help to talk to a less familiar face, so I’m all ears if you need me.”

“Alright then,” sighs Hoseok. “How would you handle someone from your past just out of the blue coming back into your daily life?”

“I don’t know, it depends… Were you close with this person?”

“Very. Extremely… I guess you could even go as far as to say he was my first romance…” he recalls, unsure whether Seokjin really wants to hear that particular detail...

“Well, I guess it’s normal that something like that would be playing on your mind… Is this a recent occurrence?”

“Kind of… it’s been a month since this guy I knew from childhood just started his internship in my office… Strange really, we’re the same age, yet I’m supposed to have this massive authority over him… Yet it feels like his presence controls me instead… Are you sure you want to be hearing about this on our first night together?”

“Of course… I’d be a pretty bad date if all I did was chat about myself with no regard for you, now, wouldn’t I?” is the reply.

‘An intern in your office for the past month…? Jung Hoseok… the man that has been bugging poor Namjoonie’s heart.’

“Dude, are you sure about this?” questioned Hoseok, inspecting the small box that had just been thrown his way.

“Yeah, I mean, why not?” Namjoon rhetorically responded, walking back through the bathroom doorway and into his room to where Hoseok sat on his bed. “I’m sick of being spoken down to and letting people control my choices… It’s time to do what I want for a change!”

“And you’re sure you’ll suit being blonde?”

“Uh-huh” Namjoon nodded positively.

“Okay, yeah, well it’s just that I… I don’t think I’m the right person for the job; I might make a catastrophy of it…” Hoseok told his friend with all honesty, getting a little scared to go through with this in the fear of making a mess of the job.

“Look, I took in every word you said to me earlier, and I’m ready to fight back!” Namjoon exclaimed, jumping into the air and onto the bed next to Hoseok. “From now on,” he continued, propping himself up to sit and face his friend, “I’m doing the things I want to do, and one thing I’ve wanted to do for a while now is dye my hair!”

“Alright... I’ll do it.” Hoseok replied in defeat, unable to help his appreciation for his friend’s boldness. “...But if it goes horribly wrong, can we agree to blame you for picking me to do this?” he warned in advance.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, sure... “ Namjoon mumbled, soon elevating into a higher spirit. Planting a kiss on his friend’s cheek and jumping back up, he said “Now come on! I’ll even let you condition my hair afterwards!”

“Dude, that’s gay” Hoseok replied, reaching out for the hand that was open to him.

“I know we are, now come!” Namjoon shamelessly cried out, dragging Hoseok back through to the bathroom to get started.

“Leela! Come back!” Jeongguk calls as he swiftly exits the cafe, following Namjoon who has rushed off with his hood chucked over his head, desperate to hide himself.

“Is this part of the game?” he calls again, this time louder as Namjoon speeds up down the path, resulting in a concerned Jeongguk picking up his pace to the point of running, and he abruptly stops when the man he has been chasing halts to turn around.

“Is that all life is to you writer? Just some stupid game?”

“No, I’m sorry, I…”

“I’m sick of the past constantly creeping up on me like this!” Namjoon bursts out, increasing in volume with each word. “It makes me so emotionally drained that I just don’t have time for your fucking bullshit Jeongguk!!!”

His words echo across the street, fading into silence, as Jeongguk takes a few moments to register what has just been said. It isn’t the insult that grabs his attention, but the sentence before that, and it takes no longer than a few seconds more for it to click with him.

“The-the past? Oh, Namjoon-ah… you’ve known the editor for longer?” Jeongguk enquires.

Completely letting his guard down, Namjoon opens up a little. “I had one rock in my childhood, just one… And I can’t even hold onto that anymore.”

Jeongguk picks up a little sob in Namjoon’s tone and it unsettles him to see his favourite colleague in this state, and although he may act somewhat ignorant to other people’s problems on a daily basis, Jeongguk thinks of nothing else in this situation but to help Namjoon turn his state of mind around.

“Forgive me if I sound so insensitive, and I know I may not know much generally or always hold complete wisdom, but… If the only part of your past that was with you has now gone… Shouldn’t that mean letting go and starting over? Is something out there not telling you to move on?”

‘Could writer Jeongguk have actually said something that makes complete sense?’ Namjoon wonders to himself. ‘Have I really been holding on unnecessarily…?

“Wow, I guess you’re right, funnily enough Jeongguk… and hey, you called me Namjoon for once…” he weakly smiles.

“Hey, I can be serious when I need to, you know.” Jeongguk tells him genuinely.

“Thank you writer” Namjoon says gratefully, awkwardly putting his hands in his jean pockets and further hiding his face under his hood by staring at the ground.

“When’s the last time you started a fresh page, eh?” Jeongguk enquires, lifting Namjoon’s hood cautiously with one finger in attempt to see his face.

“Wow, it must have been…”

“What’s the first thing you did when you decided it was time for change?”

Namjoon raises his head slowly but surely as he casts his mind back “I… I guess the first thing I did was…” He takea hand out of his pocket to point to his hair, remembering that fateful day that he demanded his mate dye it “...this.”

“Great! Look, I know this probably wasn't the sort of thing you were looking to do tonight, but how about we take a trip down to the hairdresser and… make some changes?”

“We?”

“Yeah! A new era! Leela and writer Jeongguk start a new journey together!” Jeongguk exclaims enthusiastically, taking a gentle hold of Namjoon’s hand to lead the way “Come on! Let’s go!”

“You’re so random writer…” Namjoon states as he gets pulled down the street by Jeongguk. Had this been a month ago, Namjoon would probably be squirming and wriggling all over the place about holding hands with Jeongguk, but he thinks nothing of it at the moment as he tries to compose his thoughts.

“No, I wouldn’t call it random as such, since you did mention it yourself… but I guess it’s not the usual way to spend a Friday night, I’ll give you that.”

“Well, you suggested change, and this in itself kinda is that… Just one thing…” Namjoon pants as Jeongguk slowly picks up the pace to the point that Namjoon could swear he’s having to jog. “What colour would you suggest?”

“Well…” Jeongguk begins, slowing down to a gradual stop and turning himself around the face Namjoon, not letting go of the elder’s hand.

“I think you should go with the red” he quotes.

[marlaluster]

The devil was pressing "I was a whore" is what is meant in the previous headline not "it was a whore". It said it, then it was saying just now it was because i fantasize about sex w more than one man, my soul mates. I don't have sex here. I am attacked bad here by the society, i don't think I should be attacked. It is a dictatorship here, and individual does not have a say so about the society attacking a person. "I don't know what to do i am not okay anymore," the devil said. But The devil kept pressing i was supposed to be gross. It just capitalized the T in the as an auto change. It's pressing very bad irritation presently. But The devil -- it just made the T capital again. I'll try to fix it next time. "No. I can't go on. Don't know what to do. I don't want to go on," the devil said. A break here. The devil was just pressing the goons would be to have sex w me or something. It was very psycho. They're not able to be, those people, the goons. It keeps trying to press stuff is -- a break here. The devil taking my memory of what I was saying here. It keeps pressing I'm gross etc. "Marla, I'm not sure what to do but i am actually not okay here," the devil said. But the devil was pressing I was gross n i figured it was talking about masturbation n my thoughts about sex like I mentioned yesterday. I said there is a movie w a guy that masturbates in the movie, he doesn't seem gross like you said. Then the devil pressed i was gross for thinking about multiple men. "It's really. But not. Nevermind. It's not a fantasy. I don't know what to do i have to stop doing that," the devil said. It's very weird it's saying the fantasy is really, it's asserting it pretty harshly n forcing it on me. "It's black men. You're fat," the devil said. "Eeeh. It said that is of the government, something it just said," it was said of the devil saying the fantasy was w black men. It was talking in a calm voice that was supposed to sound like Brenda Hill, someone from my past. But it was forcing it was black men after I said if my fantasy was real it wouldn't seem so bad, it would be my soul mates. I guess I was just trying to figure out what the thing was saying n try to diffuse it some, it's attacking stuff it was pressing n then it said it was black men. "I have to actually stop doing that. It is doing something. You are not okay. You are fat. Oh god. People are supposed to lose here in ....," the devil said n it was pressing extremely bad irritation. "I don't know what to do. I don't wish to do this here," the devil said. It keeps pressing personas, it's attacking very bad. It's pressing all this stuff, that it doesn't matter that this would discontinue, it's attacking because it's occurred. It was pressing bad irritation that i was fat n trying to put attention to my body.

[deviadorned]

One Hand Washes the Other 4th of July 2017 review!

I also shared this over at IMAM. This order is fresh out of the mailbox, ordered on 7/1 and delivered today 7/10 which is pretty sweet. Not sure I've ever received an OHWTO package that fast before! Although I am usually ordering Black Magic soap so that may be why, I believe it's made to order. This one came in a cute library-print bag and there was also a mojito mint tea and candy :)

To the perfumes!

BLACK+BLUE 5mL "Not half as violent as the name may imply, black+blue is a blend of lush blackberries and ripe blueberries, plums, a splash of red wine, and a cup of tea."

It's ooey and gooey and deep and sultry and also realistic! I feel like I've been picking blackberries and plums all day, finally sitting down with a glass of deep dark wine while turning the rest of the bottle into sangria ;D There is certainly a blueberry and tea undertone as well, and I almost like it more because the blueberry is subdued. Usually the blueberry is very 'in your face' for most scents.

The tea and some kind of slight spiciness come up and dominate more after the first initial wave of top notes, making this very wearable. I generally avoid berry scents in fear of simply smelling like mall bodywash but this is far from that.

INDIEPENDENCE DAY 2017 5mL (vegan, LE) "Another installment in the Indiependence Day series, and keeping with the tradition, the 2017 version is another pie scent. This time, it's blueberry. Warm blueberry pie in a buttery crust, served up with a scoop of vanilla bean marshmallow ice cream!"

Soooo I have a small blueberry problem where I can't really resist ordering blueberry things, which is why this order happened lol. Again, SUPER REALISTIC, not artificial at all, delightful blueberry pie with all the fixings. I can smell the crust on the pie and tiny coarse sugar crystals, a quietly creamy melting scoop of vanilla bean ice cream (marshmallow is mild), all the good stuff. Less throw than black+blue but also surprisingly wearable (not too gourmand).

I'M PEACH 2mL mini vial "This is the peachiest perfume. Of. All. Time. It's tremendously peachy. Nobody's ever made a peachier perfume, this is it right here, let me tell you. We've asked a lot of people- I mean, A LOT, of people- and they all said, you know, this is the peachiest perfume oil they've ever smelled. It's just terrific. I know perfumes. I have the best perfumes, I have the best, but there is no better smell than peach. Right? It's so amazing. It's gonna be HUGE! Bigly.

...Nevermind that there isn't a single drop of "peach" in there, "I'm Peach" is a fruity-floral based on other stone fruits including apricots and nectarines. There's some red wine and sandalwood in there, some vanilla and some freesia- but no peach, per se ;) The above paragraph was FAKE NEWS!"

Stone fruit alternative facts!!! I ordered this for a laugh, as I'm not really into the whole stone fruit thing unless it is actually peach, but it is nice for what it is :) Certainly a gentle combo of freesia, maybe sweet pea, apricot, nectarine, etc, juuuusst edging away from mall shampoo land, but I can wear this to be inoffensive at work. It is the opposite on the offensive meter from another fake peach that needs to be impeached.

COVFEFE 2mL mini vial "Who, indeed, can figure out the true meaning of "covfefe"?

Well, we tried. Inspired by a twitter convo, this scent is built on a base reminiscent of my now-discontinued "Barista" fragrance- coffee, chocolate, pastries, hazelnut. But then I went and skanked it up with some funky oud and patchouli notes, sharp bergamot, and some blood and valencia oranges. We don't think we'll ever know what a covfefe exactly is, but I like to think this is what it would smell like if we ever ran across one.”

I must have been temporarily blind or insane when I ordered this hahaha. Chocolate oranges?? Nope, not my thing either. You get a little slap of nutty, cocoa-y coffee and then imagine a basket of candied orange wedges raining on your head. Then the overall impression goes to those chocolate oranges, if they were bonbons, with an orange EO-tinged coffee liqueur oozing out. I'm hoping the orange slides further over to more of a bergamot and that the darker notes come out, otherwise I'll have a tough time with this haha. It's on me for ordering a scent based on chaos with notes I don't wear! There is a good funkiness as it dries down so we'll see where this goes.

I also got a Decadence ~3oz breakaway clamshell 100% soy wax tart, which I will burn once I can get the other wax I have out of the burner, but what I can tell you is that it smells freaking delicious and magnificent even from outside the clamshell so I have high hopes. Decadence is the right name, I truly want to bite into it. Thick, extravagant, buttermilk red velvet ughh but I won't ~__~ I will have to go back for this as a perfume oil though.

"Red Velvet Cake. Need I say more? Well, probably not, but here goes- this is not some stock rendition of (pretty much) everyone's favorite cake, this is my very own unique interpretation, with each note selected carefully to ensure maximum cakeitude. Cream Cheese Frosting, Cake Batter heavy with Dark Cocoa Powder, Vanilla Beans, Butter... I know it isn't fair, and I'm sorry. Every time I make anything using this fragrance, everyone comes running to see what I'm baking, and they're always so disappointed to see it's just more stuff they can't eat. It's so terrible, and now you can do it too!"

Then there were two mystery(?) freebie solid samples, just a splash of wax like .5 ml or something IDK, named Flip Flops and Terra Bella. They appropriately smelled like a citrusy cocktail, and a beautiful forest floor. I dig :) It's pretty hard for me to have a miss from OHTWO unless I have deliberately tried to screw myself over, see above ^^ ;P