#wildcraft writing

[dutiful-wildcraft]

This one is for all my retail pals

John Price has never worked retail in his life and it shows.

Price x reader, meetcute? if this qualifies

-

You're scrambling, have been since you walked through the door. They were already calling your name by the time you clicked your radio on.

From that moment forward you were hustling back and forth across the store, helping who you could, pulling orders for customer pick ups, trying to answer questions for the seasonal team members who got thrown to the wolves with slap dash training. 

You're tired, you're hungry, and you've been listening to the same 5 christmas songs on repeat since the 1st of November. 

You're trying to make it back to the break room for a quick snack, walking at mach speed, head lowered, praying that those you passed could see the sheer overwhelmed energy radiating off of you in waves and not ask you anything.

But there is always one.

“Excuse me!”

Your blood pressure shoots up immediately. 

You stop short, try to school your expression into something friendly. He's a big man, shoulders wide enough to fill a doorway, with mutton chops that strike you as odd, but suit his face. The man hustles toward you, holding an expensive jacket out to you like a toddler.

“Can you tell me the price of this?”

Everyone thinks you have a scanner.

The chops age him, but a closer look reveals that he must only be a little older than you, pretty blue eyes scrunched apologetically. You think this grown ass man should be old enough to see the scanners staged on every other aisle, the big signs attached to the ceiling highlighting their location. Irritation wells up like a geyser as you pull the garment from his hand searching for a tag. 

You search and search, even fishing around in the pocket to see if some kind soul accidentally yanked it off and put it back.

“Must be free!” Chops chuckles, and you think you should be able to pass out one free throat punch a day for simply working under these conditions. 

It takes effort, not to shrivel up like a raisin over the monotonous comment. Trying desperately to focus on finding the fucking price and ignore the way the big bastard bores holes into your face. He could have looked it up on his phone, you're certain, but instead he's standing a little too close, watching you flounder, at least his cologne is nice. 

A painful silence falls between you when you don't even giggle at his joke. But you must have a scrap of patience left in you because the angel of good will tugs on your ear, reminds you that not everyone stares at this shit day in and day out like you do, and he probably would have trouble finding it online anyway. 

You suck in a deep breath, fish out your own phone to pull up your company's website. 

“M'sorry for the trouble sweetheart” he murmurs, rolling almost sheepishly on his heels, hands reaching at his shoulders as if to grab something that isn't there, falling uselessly at his sides as he hovers over your shoulder. 

The pet name should piss you off, but the rumbly timber of it tickles you somewhere in your monkey brain, he is a handsome thing, and something about the way he crosses his arms, peers over your shoulder like this was a problem he's helping you solve is kind of endearing. 

You feel bad immediately for your bitchy attitude toward the fella. 

“Sorry It's taking a second, I'm trying” 

“I can see that, I appreciate you. I know you lot are busy, think I've seen you make a few laps now.” he teases, nodding to the bustle of people about the store, rummaging through once neatly folded tables like it's a yardsale. 

You type in the style number with a little amused huff. “You have no idea, I get in miles trotting around this place” you joke, scrolling through site’s workwear options to match the jacket in your hand. It's one of the nicer one's the store carries, a sturdy brown canvas with a fleece lined collar and interior. You try to make small talk that you're notoriously terrible at.

“You must work outside.” 

“Something like that” he muses, “been meaning to get the house prepped up for winter, I waited a bit late.”

You snort, “Hell me too, I barely have enough wood left for the stove myself, I'm just going to pile on blankets this winter!”

“Well that won't do.” 

The hard tone of Chop's voice breaks you from your searching. A quick glance confirms he's serious, brows pinched as his posture has shifted to looking directly at you. Chin tucked to his chest.

“What?” 

“You've got no one taking care of you?”

Nosy fuck. You don't know why you get defensive. “I take care of me just fine.” you retort confidently, finally pulling up the stupid jacket and telling him the price. 

“Negative.” is all he replies, looking at you with the same stern gaze. You suddenly feel like a child, wanting more than anything to prove to this man you were more than qualified to handle yourself. You work retail for fucks sake.

He cuts you off before you can smart off again. “You're going to write down that number for the coat, and your number, so I can bring a load of lumber by. I won't have a pretty thing like shiverin’ in the night.”

Something inside your brain purrs at the idea. The idea of somebody looking out for you when you barely have time to keep your clothes washed and body fed was…appealing. Especially coming from a pretty gorgeous stranger. And yet?

“I'm not giving my number to a stranger, sir.” you retort with some semblance of authority. 

Chops is having none of it, he makes a pointed show of raking his eyes down to your nametag dangling against your chest before flickering back up to your face. Your name rolls off his tongue easily, and you can't help the little shiver up your spine at the timber of it.

“John Price” he offers after, big paw curling around your own to shake playfully. “Not strangers now are we?”

[crushedrosewitchcraft]

And one more tag post!

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Book Review: Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer

TW: Alcohol mentions and tallow mentions. Poison Path things as well. This is: Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer Rating: 9/10 Pros: An amazing outlook into animism, herbalism, and foraging in a safe, sustainable and non-appropriative way! The instructions on how to garden were very to the point and explained some complicated ideals in an easy to digest way, I think one of my favorite quotes from the book that stuck with me while reading was,

“Just when I think magic has been cut down and paved over; a dandelion has pushed it’s way out of the cracks in the cement.”

I hope that quote helps you understand what sort of writing to expect out of this book! As someone that grew up learning planting from my Papaw who took classes on the subject after getting out of WWII through a governmental program and was a farmer before that, some of the information on growing was things I already knew. But for a beginner just looking into ‘wildcrafting’ or foraging or just plain growing your own herbs for witchy things?

Get this book.

The author, while an herbalist, breaks down each plant she mentions and includes plenty of warnings and suggestions for use both magical and holistically. She covers the poison path in a very easy to understand way while making sure you understand it’s not a beginner’s thing, and certainly not one to take without serious consideration first. The author takes careful note of Indigenous practices and makes sure to drive it home that their voices are to be heard over anyone else’s when it comes to taking care of American land. There are so many rituals and remedies included in this book that I have a feeling I’ll be referencing it quite a lot, and not just for the gardening and foraging tips!

Did I mention the entire 11 pages of a bibliography in the back?? No? Well there’s that too. My academic heart is thrilled.

Cons: Honestly? The only real con I have is that the author spends a chunk of time going over the Wheel of the Year which is a wiccan construct in a book that otherwise doesn’t have any wiccan imagery or practices up until this point. It feels…weirdly thrown in? But she also includes multiple folk traditions that were common amongst those particular time periods so…it is worked in but it still feels a little odd and jarring to me.

The author also mentioned the use of tallow as a commonly used oil for salves, which is correct but some people are uncomfortable with the idea and I understand that! Since the author has tincture recipes as well she does mention the use of alcohol in steeping purposes.

Overview: Animism, foraging, herbalism, and being safe to the environment. Good stuff all around!

[lupinedreaming]

Title: Feral Beauty

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: M, MDNI!

Summary: Roni Wildcraft, a two-bit thief and smuggler, has now become an imprisoned lab experiment.

She just wants to get the hell out of there — and so does the alien trapped in the room next to her.

See the story on AO3 for tags and warnings.

Story preview:

The peeling patch of skin on the back of her hand had worsened.

Roni had only noticed it after washing her face and getting ready to warm a pre-prepared meal.

Read on AO3.

Other links: AO3 profile, writing sideblog

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Happy 2024, y'all! It's a sunny day here on the SW Washington coast, and I'm off to a slow, sleepy start after managing to stay up until midnight in spite of myself. I hope you all are having a good start to the shiny new year.

I thought this would a good moment to reflect on the accomplishments of 2023, and look forward to what 2024 might hold.

Last year was, well, a lot of good stuff! Here are a few highlights:

--In addition to keeping my regular roster of online and in-person classes for various community colleges and libraries, I added a few new teaching venues. By far my favorite was the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology, where I had a marvelous time teaching my two-day Nature Identification for the Everyday Naturalist class amid an incredible coastal forest (they're bringing me back this year, too!). I also got to teach in my hometown in Missouri, with a mushroom foraging class at Rolla Public Library and a lichen walk at the Ozark Rivers Audubon Nature Center, both of whom I hope to work with again in the future. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the series of classes I taught for Wildcraft Studio School in Portland--I'm looking forward to my next round of classes with them for 2024!

--I launched my guided nature tours business, offering ecologically-focused walks and hikes throughout the Pacific Northwest. This was very much a year of "throw things at the wall and see what sticks." Both scheduled hikes and private bookings were successful, though sometimes people thought I only did one or the other, so it was a bit of a challenge getting the word out that nope--I offer both! I'm hoping to expand the scheduled hikes to more locations, since I primarily offered them in the Long Beach, WA area, and I'm hoping to get some private bookings in places I haven't had a chance to explore yet. I do have to say I had a lot of fun taking people out onto some of my favorite trails, as well as some new places, exploring all the amazing flora, fauna, and fungi we met along the way. Here's to more excuses to get outside in 2024!

--With the help of my amazing agent, Jane Dystel of Dystel, Goderich & Bourret LLC, I landed a contract with Ten Speed Press (a division of Penguin Random House) for my book The Everyday Naturalist: How to Identify Animals, Plants, and Fungi Wherever You Go. This is an opportunity well beyond anything I had imagined, and I am super excited for the book to be released in Summer 2025. I've already gotten some excellent editorial feedback to help me make this book the best it can be, and I'm looking forward to this continued journey as I kick off the new year with a big writing session.

--I kept up on my quarterly chapbook schedule, producing four new chapbooks in 2023. It's a lot of work, but people really seem to enjoy them, and I relish the opportunity to dive deeper into topics than I can do in a single article. Speaking of articles, I didn't quite keep up with writing one weekly on my website, but I did alright. And I also kept up a good roster of articles in my Rainy Rambles column for the Coast Weekend paper.

And that's really what I'd love to see in 2024:

--More opportunities to teach and reach new audiences who are interested in learning more about nature identification, foraging, and other natural history topics. Since I do a lot of online teaching, I have plenty of options outside of my local area. And as I make my twice-a-year peregrinations to Missouri, I'm planning to do some teaching along the way.

--More tours, please! 2023 was a really great start, and I had such a great time that I just want to increase the number of days I'm out on the trails with folks. I need to do more promotion, especially outside the Columbia-Pacific region, and really work on getting the word out. Some of that will be online, but there will also be some time spent out in the world, too. It can be a very time-consuming thing, but here's to those efforts paying off.

--I already need to have the manuscript for The Everyday Naturalist turned in this April (I'm going to aim for getting it done early, but we'll see.) A lot of the process beyond that will be out of my hands, other than edits and feedback. Still, this will be another thing that I want to make more people aware of, so you can expect me to keep chatting about book stuff all year. And, of course, I'll keep those article sand chapbooks coming for those of you who can't wait for 2025 to read my work.

--I have some other projects behind the scenes that I'm planning--keep your eyes peeled here for updates! (Or you can join my monthly email newsletter here.)

Wishing you all an excellent 2024!

[jenny-dreadful]

tagged by @incomprehensiblelentils . thanks!

15 Questions for 15 Friends

-ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?

hmmm i share mom’s middle name! she changed the spelling for mine, though

-WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?

hoo hoo hee hee he he ha hah ho heh ha hee hee don’t WORRY about it

-DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

no. this is for the best

-WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?

is “trying very hard not to let gym class ruin my fucking report card and get me yelled at at home” a sport?

-DO YOU USE SARCASM?

of course not

-WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?

i don’t know, and i’m not sure i understand the question, because sometimes people will say “their shoes!” or some shit, and that can’t POSSIBLY be literally/consistently true, but it seems to make sense to other people. i don’t think i have anything i take specific note of like that—heights, maybe, but that’s only applicable if there’s something notable

-WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOR?

hazel!

-SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?

false dichotomy on multiple axes, but i’ll watch a thousand deeply mid horror films (and have, probably!) before voluntarily experiencing a hallmark movie, if that answers the question

-ANY TALENTS?

mmmm i’m a pretty good singer, pretty good writer (sometimes. not lately), and i think i’m a decent teacher!

-WHERE WERE YOU BORN?

there

-WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

i watch a lot of movies. i cycle through/sample a lot of arts and crafts. i play ttrpg with friends online. i cook and bake a bit. i try out foraging/wildcrafting stuff where i can. huge into writing, except for when i’m not

-DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

nawww

-HOW TALL ARE YOU?

i’ve been five feet tall since about the fifth grade. lemme tell you: the other day, i ran into a lady shorter than me* while getting into an elevator, and now the clock’s reset and i don’t anticipate encountering another in the next two years or so

*grain of salt. i’ve believed this to be true at a glance of people who i was later informed were as tall as 5’2”

-FAVOURITE SUBJECT?

always was huge into english! really i liked all academics pretty well (most of the time) growing up, though

-DREAM JOB?

i don’t fuckin know anymore, dogg, get outta here

-

HEY! i’m not gonna tag anybody, because i get really in my head about maybe slighting people who’d have liked to be tagged, or pressuring people who didn’t, so—if you saw this and at ALL wished you’d been tagged, consider it done! do it! tag me at the top and make sure i see it (:

here’s the questions again, compressed for easy copy/paste:

15 Questions for 15 Friends ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? DO YOU HAVE KIDS? WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED? DO YOU USE SARCASM? WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOR? SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? ANY TALENTS? WHERE WERE YOU BORN? WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? HOW TALL ARE YOU? FAVOURITE SUBJECT? DREAM JOB?

[elminx]

I haven't experienced this much inspiration to write in quite some time.

I'm looking for topics - astrology, witchcraft, wildcrafting, kitchen craft, deathwork - what do you want to read about?

Give me some ideas, Tumbles.

[titleleaf]

This is factual info and important for how Americans conceptualize their public spaces and how they approach foraging and wildcrafting but I need to point out for folks reblogging this like “ok wtf” that “make the golf course a public sex forest” is a slogan with reference to a specific golf course (Minneapolis’ Hiawatha Golf Club) and a specific question pertaining to its fate, how it might be reimagined as a public space. (A park, a community food garden, or yeah, a pollinator garden.)

You can read the piece by that name here at the Anarchist Library. The manifesto and the slogan are ultimately as much or more about the “public” part — the criminalization of public spaces, and the act of retaking a space that’s subsidized by taxes and constructed with a damaging, exclusive form of private recreation in mind at the expense of the land itself and the general public — rather than the “sex forest” part. The sex forest part is tongue in cheek. But also real. It’s been weird seeing this go nationwide. I didn’t write it and I take serious issue with it for reasons unrelated to the public sex forest part (or the golf course) but I don’t want to see the slogan become purely a meme.

Loving reminder from your land history auntie:

North American golf courses have had 50-100 years of arsenic and mercury based fungicide and herbicides applied to their soils.

Do not eat anything that has been grown on a golf course or downstream from a golf course. I know it sounds cool and radical, but you are too valuable to poison yourself with heavy metals.

Protect each other, turn your local golf course into a pollinator garden, not a sex forest or community garden.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk.  I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time. 

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all? 

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone. 

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning. 

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble. 

She’d found her next project. 

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees. 

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone. 

How could he forget? 

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones. 

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves. 

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too. 

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself,  looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with. 

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished. 

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more. 

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him. 

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!” 

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.  

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again. 

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch. 

It would wait for another time. 

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting. 

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall. 

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses. 

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch. 

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again. 

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal. 

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her. 

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely,  amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle.  He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath. 

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again,  smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath. 

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber.  He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws. 

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her. 

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone. 

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body. 

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest. 

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over. 

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently.  “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left. 

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him. 

Good gods, she even tastes sweet. 

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath. 

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see. 

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze.  Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps. 

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal. 

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more. 

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue,  the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry. 

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her. 

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this. 

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation. 

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option,  but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside. 

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase. 

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight. 

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer.  Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath. 

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance. 

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance.  He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt. 

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace. 

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery. 

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.”  he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it. 

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,”  she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more. 

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices.  He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls. 

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end. 

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below. 

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down. 

His, his, his. 

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair.  Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her. 

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days. 

[mortuarywriting]

Hope y'all don't mind further tag reminders!! Sorry for the pings if you didn't need em!

@391780 @pfhwrittes @ceilidho @ohbo-ohno @luminousbeings-crudematter @charliemwrites @sentientcave @dragonnarrative-writes @greatstormcat @syoddeye @dutiful-wildcraft @alwaysshallow @stuffireadandenjoy

attention all writers! tumblr is rolling out a new feature that allows our work to be used in ai training processes!

be sure to opt out of this in your visibility settings immediately! and remember, you have to opt out for each blog, not just your main!

go to your blogs’ settings (again, you have to do these steps for each blog, not just your main blog)

scroll until you see “visibility” and choose that

in your visibility settings, choose “prevent third-party sharing for (blog name)”

you may opted out already but we don’t take chances with ai around these parts *insert angry cowboy*

tagging some mutuals to get the word out — @multifandomsimagine @pegxcarter @moremaybank @gladerscake @goldenroutledge @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @tangledinlove @rafeandonlyrafe @mvybanks

[mysticbloom]

“A Witch is a person who has honestly explored their light and has evolved to celebrate their darkness.”

Dacha Avelin

Artwork

Medea an der Urne - Anselm Feuerbach 1873

[lupinedreaming]

Peeps, I need help deciding which writing project to work on once I’m done with the first part of Azzy and Jane’s story 🙏

Summaries of the different ideas are under the cut

Option one is Silver Wires, a WIP that I’ve been waffling on finishing because of lack of motivation and worry that the FMC is too unlikable. Here is my summary for that one:

1. Astrid is the only survivor of a colony mission sent by the religion the Children of the Lost. Now without any friends or family, she is left to warily trust the crew of the Sparrowhawk. Among the crew is an illegal android named Brom, who rescued her from her damaged ship, and who seems determined to take care of her every need.

Option two is an alien romance I abandoned and would rewrite. Despite wanting to rewrite it, the basic premise is still this:

2. Roni Wildcraft, a two-bit thief and smuggler, has now become an imprisoned lab experiment.

She just wants to get the hell out of there — and so does the alien trapped in the room next to her.

Option three is something I haven’t started but the idea popped into my brain largely fully formed a few days ago. It is very much I inspired by f’d up cannibalistic families, like in TCM and also the novel Brother by Ania Ahlborn, plus a little bit of the movie Near Dark which has a “family” of backwoods vampires. 

3. This summary will be rambling because I haven’t slimmed it down like the other two:

This story would deal with a mother, sister, and brother. They are bear shifters. They are the last of a small community of bear shifters who believe that, in the 1800s when the community was starving, a bear in the shape of a man came to them and told them that they could survive if they ate human flesh, and if they ate it, they wouldn’t just survive but prosper and have the power of the bear with them, and so would their descendants if they kept up the same practice. This small family has kept up the practice and take a human once or twice a year to eat, believing that doing so allows them to “prosper” and continue to change shape.

Story starts where the brother, who has been the most isolated of the family, is scoping out potential prey in his bear form. He sees a beautiful young woman, and despite the family usually being careful about their targets, he takes her. Various things happen, but TLDR; he quickly falls for her and starts wondering if the family’s practice is even necessary, and he’s trying to figure out how to keep her from being food

So … yeah!! I need help 🥲 Comments letting me know what people would be most interested in are very appreciated

[rebeccathenaturalist]

I am finally home after another busy few days in the Portland area. Thursday I got up SUPER early to make it to Scappoose by 10 for my PCC birdwatching excursion. As always, the east end of the Crown-Zellerbach Trail is a superb place for birds, and we were lucky enough to see plenty of migrating sandhill cranes (Antigone canadensis), among many others. Then that evening it was over to the Cascade Park Library in Vancouver (WA, not BC) for my introductory mushroom foraging class, which was very well attended.

I had Friday off, which was much-needed. So after sleeping way later than anticipated, I headed over to Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge for a nice ramble. The highlight of my day was FINALLY getting to see a pair of Pacific mink (Neogale vison energumenos) in the wild! They were having a blast leaping around on semi-submerged trees and swimming in the shallows.

Then yesterday was my Introduction to Mycology with Wildcraft Studio School. This is where I get to go in-depth about how cool fungi are, their biology and ecological roles, and other good stuff. I do get into mushroom identification, but we aren't just focused on edible species (though we did find a few of those, along with a western destroying angel (Amanita ocreata). I was super excited to uncover a couple of slime molds, too--honeycomb coral slime mold (Ceratiomyxa fruticulosa), which I've encountered before, and a new-to-me species, yellow carnival candy slime mold (Arcyria obvelata).

Today is a Writing Day (TM). My goal is to have my first set of deliverables for The Everyday Naturalist done and sent in to my editor by end of day, and then I can buckle down on the whole rest of the manuscript. Wish me luck!

[ravenametalworks]

Looks like Creeping Charlie is in full bloom! Love it's dainty periwinkle flowers. This edible spring evergreen is part of the mint family and I'll be featuring it for my blog on The Green Raven this month! _ www.ravenametalworks.com/thegreenraven _ #ravenametalworks #thegreenraven #corvidcuriosities #groundivy #creepingcharlie #nature #flowers #spring #blog #writing #ecotherapy #wildcrafting #edible https://www.instagram.com/p/CNnKNnhh1iH/?igshid=avrgexqrd101

[wildjuniperjones]

(I just read your intro and followed immediately. I too have an interest in D&D and fiction writing.)

But, per your comment, this ask is about Plants and Magic. You mentioned that you had some suggestions about Herbalism and/or other reference materials after my ask on a-witch-named-crow's blog, and I would love to hear them.

I recently turned a rather critical eye to the sources that I originally learned magic from, namely books and my mother, who was very into Native American Shamanic things. I believe we have some ancestry and family history, but we are not culturally involved or members of a tribe. I decided it really wasn't right for me to continue many of the beliefs and practices I had learned because what I knew was likely from closed practices, and frankly I had no right to them.

But I felt that kind of left me in a bit of a lurch where learning more about plants was concerned. I studied Botany in college, and even back then I knew it was only part of the story, really. I love using what I grow for tea and food, and I am totally getting into foraging, so -crow's suggestions there are on point. What -crow said about working with the spirits of plants seems kind of the way I want to go. I am a Service Member, so I cannot take their latter suggestions. (constantly subject to the possibility of urinalysis when you are the property of the government).

I would love to know what you have to add!

So, most of my training is in medicinal herbalism, as a lot of the correspondences you'll find in older texts are actually code to describe the medicinal functions of certain herbs (like St. John's Wort being associated with Leo and the Sun, referring to its heating properties when applied topically (it causes sun sensitivity) and the joy that returns from taking it internally). But if you mostly want to get into herbs for your own purposes, I have some books to recommend.

First up, get a Peterson's Field Guide to Medicinal Plants & Herbs for your bioregion. I have one for the western US, but there are others. It will make all the rest a helluva lot easier if you're going to wildcraft (forage) your herbs.

Next, get a copy of The Herbal Medicine Maker's Handbook by James Green. It is THE book for creating your own tinctures, salves, etc. I never had success with making salves (they would mold) until I followed his instructions.

These two are required reading, from my perspective. But hey, you might want to know more about plants that are readily available in your local grocery, perhaps! For that, check out:

Kitchen Medicine by Julie Bruton-Seal, Matthew Seal Traditional Foods Are Your Best Medicine by Ronald F. Schmid

But I take conventional medication, how do I know what will interact? For that, check out Delmar's Integrative Herb Guide for Nurses by Martha Libster. Mine isn't the most up-to-date, but you might be able to find useful info in there nonetheless, especially if you do your homework and know what category of medicine any newer medication falls into.

Part of my training was with the East West School of Planetary Herbology, which included Traditional Chinese Medicine diagnostic techniques that I still use, like tongue diagnosis and pulse diagnosis. Understanding the theory and structure around TCM opens up a lot more resources, and the best book I've found for that purpose is The Web That Has No Weaver by Ted Kaptchuk.

A history and theory-based look at Western herbalism that really changed the way I viewed herbal medicine is The Herbal Lore of Wise Women & Wortcunners by Wolf D. Storl, which I highly recommend. I was having a hard time reading anything when I got it, but plowed right through anyway.

Lessee, honorable mentions go to Medicinal Plants of the Pacific West by Michael Moore (I believe there are a few other bioregions in that series), 300 Herbs by Matthew Alfs (especially useful if you already understand TCM and Ayurvedic theory), and my absolute favorite (which is sadly out of print) the two-volume set of The Energetics of Western Herbs by Peter Holmes. Just the most comprehensive guide to European and American herbs out there, explained very clearly, using both Western and TCM theories. There's a companion two-volume set by the same author called Jade Remedies that covers Chinese herbs exclusively, but is also out of print.

Most of these can be found on free sites like libgen or Z-lib, except for the last two, which as I said are out of print. These are just the books I kept, you understand. This is a tiny fraction of my original library, the ones that I considered too essential or rare to sell.

On the more spiritual side of plants, I'd recommend The Secret Teachings of Plants by Stephen Buhner. And if you're looking to grow herbs, especially woody herbs, I cannot recommend The Medicinal Forest Garden Handbook by Anne Stobart enough! Permaculture + herbalism? Yes please!

I wrote a few blog articles on the subject looooong ago, when I was trying to make a go of being a professional herbalist but I didn't yet have the confidence to see people. I didn't want to promise success when I was still so uncertain about my abilities. So I decided to catalogue every western herb I could and cross-reference their entries with the books I had at the time (which conveniently is also a listing of all the books I used to have, more or less).

This is the glossary, and this is the cross-referenced list, while this folder contains the few articles I completed. There's also this spreadsheet, which has links to the PubMed entries for each herb (if available) and the wikipedia entry for each herb (if available). It was a huge, obsessive undertaking at the time, and I'm still tempted by the organizational possibilities... The original plan was to have a blog/book that condensed dozens of books worth of information, including conventional science and traditional wisdom, with growing patterns/techniques, preparation methods, etc., etc.

I hope this helps and wasn't too overwhelming! I honestly held back a lot (I could talk about the East West program, for instance), so let me know if you want to hear more about any particular topic!

Best of luck, and happy herb hunting!

PS: If you do want to go mushroom hunting, the best book ever for the purpose is All That the Rain Promises and More by David Arora. Seriously, such a gem.

PPS: If you're a service member, you may want to do a bit of research on herbs that mimic the presence of illicit substances on drug tests. California poppy is a great choice for headaches, but if you're getting urine tests, it will show up as an opiate, despite being a mostly unrelated species.

[ocean-again]

my life continues to be useless and this continues to be the only tiny space I have to write anything down where my mom won’t find it. so, here’s what’s up

the lesbian who grew up in a cult and wanted science facts from me turned out to be kind of a transphobe. this was distressing but we mutually ghosted each other over it so it’s also fine.

the short guy has a crush on an electrical engineer. she honestly sounds pretty cool, so I’ve kinda shrugged my shoulders and moved on.

at some point I am going to make friends with her and when she dumps him, because she honestly sounds too cool for his “I can’t go to therapy I’m a pilot” nonsense, I will probably keep her. this is my usual MO and I have a number of really great lady friends, just fucking ride-or-die bitches, who started off being introduced to me as an effort to make us both jealous.

this is a risky move with bisexual women, as I inherently do not see other women as rivals, only friends. dick is, after all, plentiful and low-value. cool girls are, by contrast, irreplaceable diamonds.

which, brings me to the major point in the ongoing drama. how mad this is making my extremely cool friend who, I am realizing, has had a crush on me for a while now, and I feel like she feels like coming home. thing is, she has a long-term local girlfriend.

I have been respecting their relationship as best I can, but her girlfriend is clingy bordering on toxically jealous and possessive. which, has lead me to not making a move, despite apparently the poly community and everyone I’ve talked to about this telling me that somebody’s unhappy primary partner ought to not be my problem. it feels like it is. so I went from simply not making a move to distancing myself from my friend and making a pass at the aforementioned disinterested short guy, who is also, one of her friends.

I though initially she would be cool with this, she is was not cool with that.

her girlfriend appeared to be happy with the idea of me spending more time elsewhere but after shortguy turned me down, in apparently an effort to continue to distance me from my cool friend, this other dude from fucking california has been trying to get everyone else to suggest that I ought to date him and I am so utterly disinterested and done with this bullshit that I am beginning to find his efforts, to not flirt with me, but to suggest that I ought to flirt with him, to be offensive.

I generally do not react well to the suggestion that, y’know, if I was lonely some time I could maybe, *looks at ground, twiddles foot, Looks Up, bites lip* ask him to hang out some time?

like, 1. if I was going to? I would have

2. presumptuous much?

3. are you’re asking me to ask you out? like, I don’t know what to do with that, there’s no parameters. what do you want? you’re not giving me anything to work with here and it’s very easy to just go “Okay.” and never call you.

4. I am a tremendously disappointing weirdo. everyone seems to get this impression that I’m a cozy cup of hot cocoa on a rainy day, warm socks, and fuzzy blankets kinda cottage core bitch, but like, I am in reality, a very weird gremlin with a sink full of unwashed dishes and the closer you get to me the more disappointed you’re going to be by reality.

like, I don’t not-travel and stay home because I’m a homebody, its because I am impoverished. ditto: mending my own clothes? impoverished. making stews? impoverished. making my own home decor? Impoverished. wildcrafting? impoverished. all my Vintage clothes and Vintage furniture? Impoverished. like, this is not for aesthetics. the aesthetics are Emergent from the Impoverishment.

5. at this point I feel like I’ve been repeatedly treated like a problem to be solved and also somebody who can and should withstand infinite screaming fits. and I’m plain tired of being yelled at.

6. I am also just generally tired of being simped-at by like a decent handful of reply guys on twitter and insta that seem to think me calling myself a gremlin is like, a lie, and the cozy bitch they’ve built in their heads to be disappointed by is the real me.

relatedly, one of those nerds hunted me down at my friend’s wedding and flung me around the dance floor so violently I nearly vomited in my respirator. he is now trying to slide into my twitter DM’s having found that I don’t go on insta very often.

I just, I would like a relationship with somebody who sees me, and knows me, but to see me, and to know me is to be disappointed by me.

anyways, that’s where it’s at.