iola-s

[iola-s]

“I Will Find Strong Platonic Love That Will Grow Into Romantic Love”

Draw this very specifically themed sigil on paper and burn it to activate it. Scatter the ashes around a public place you frequent or add them to your bath.

[iola-s]

It’s just a small thing, but breaking down tasks on my To Do List into smaller steps has really helped my motivation. If something has 3 steps, I write out each step so I get to cross them out more quickly and experience that mental reward of relief. This also makes it easier not to get overwhelmed by more complex tasks.

[iola-s]

Writing Commissions:

Writing Commissions:

Genres:

Genres I normally write in: Fiction: fantasy, historical fiction, original mythology-esqe

Subgenres I write in: romance, 

Genres I don’t have enough experience in: sci-fi, westerns, horror, historical romance

Genres I DO NOT write:

smut/porn

Inspirational

Typical audience for my stories: 

Young Adult

My Portfolio:(BE AWARE OF TRIGGERING CONTENT. IT IS LABELED.) My tumblr with finished, unfinished, unedited, and edited stories: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iola-s

Prices:

500 words: $17 per hour

1k: $29 per hour

3k: $47 per hour

5k+ $75 per hour

Rules to Commission me:

MUST pay at least HALF of the payment BEFORE I start, half after I finish

MUST give me credit if you decide to share

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/iola-s

MUST leave feedback for ANY size piece during each “check in/update” AND after the story is finished

MUST understand what the genres I will not do are

PLEASE BE PATIENT

ALL PAYMENTS ARE FINAL

Things I will do to ensure your happiness with my writing:

Ask questions during the consultation phase to make sure YOU are sure of what you want

Write notes to make sure I know what you want the most/the least

Give “updates” on planning, writing, or editing

Research in certain genres (EX: Historical Romance)

Take my time to ensure your happiness 

Payment Methods:

CashApp: $70existingeryns

Paypal: @70existingeryns

Contact: 

@iola-s on tumblr

beetlebvbbletea@gmail.com

Final Notes:

All writings will be made/finished to fit MY schedule. 

I will accept deadlines, Nothing past 1-5weeks deadlines ahead of time (depends on what word count you’d like and how big the project is)

ALL PAYMENTS ARE FINAL

[iola-s]

random blurb of a story, written by iola

~ @normal-horoscopes do you see i take a lot of inspo from you???~~

The obvious-skeleton-in-a-trenchcoat stared across the pedestrian crossing blankly. Their eyes glanced about, eventually settling on the hand of a…. A very masculine AND feminine person. Their eyes narrowed at the sight. Flesh. Even though the skeleton-in-a-trenchcoat saw hand flesh everyday, this was different. Somehow, somehow they didn’t know the difference. 

The skeleton stared at him? Her? The being for a moment before randomly picking up their hand in their skeleton hand. Feeling the bones of their bare hand, the gender-less individual’s eyes,  widened and skin paled. 

“Look at all those nerve endings,” They said in awe. Two things about the skeleton: One) It’s been ages since they had nerve endings and Two) they saw all the important, tiny parts of smaller parts of the body. They saw the person’s nerve endings, the ligaments.

[iola-s]

prologue to a book i’ll never write, written by iola (Unfinished)

They say, they said, in the plaza of Flowent Rock, they said that there stood a mossy, chipped away statue. He stood, ready to move his sword from its holster. They said he brought revolution, they said he brought love. One question always remains in the old wive’s tale: 

“I’m curious… why would a man of nobility and reason bring love?” The tales nor the council of Gods answered the question. They were too young, compared to this tale. They knew not. The elders… The elders would know. They know everything. 

She approached the ginormous dragons, slowly. In her shaky hands, she held a simple, dead, albino fox. Bring a gift, typically red foxes, they will tell one story and shoo you away. However, Kalliph, brought an oddity- a pleasurable weird fox, white as the stones that line the path in. They only resided in K’Tha territory, AKA “frog’s territory” as many called it. A white fox was worth a question, or three, depending on the dragon’s mood.

“Kalliph! What a delight!” Hissed the dragon of Kel. The girl gulped. She bowed hastily and pulled the fox from her satchel. 

“I have some questions for you, wise one.” She whispered. The dragon sniffed the lifeless fox, drained of red. The nameless dragon of Kel bellowed in laughter.  The dragon’s large, toothy mouth opened slightly once more. The dragon pulled the fox from the hands of the girl and ate it rather grossly.

“Two questions.” 

Hesitantly, against what the Gods or mortals would suggest, Kalliph brought up the statue. 

“Why is love wrong?” Her questions came as a sob, instead of the made-up brave she had grown to shelter behind. The dragon laughed once more, releasing a disgusting tuna smell into her face.

“Young one, why would you ask such a thing?” She sniffed, regretting straight afterwards. 

“I brought a wh-white fox! Answer my questio-questions please!” The mighty, fearless dragon smiled at her demand. 

“Mortals have power, with love. Now… that’s your question, go.” The dragon turned it’s head to fall back to sleep. 

“I have one more though!” She whimpered. With one look from The Dragon of Kel, she ran from the giant colosseum. 

[iola-s]

“Echoes from the Moon” written by iola (Unfinished)

I shake as the words fly from her lips. 

“The Earth is dead.” She says it with no remorse for the billions dead. She had no remorse for the other woman being stranded on the moon. Without thought, without a care in the world, Kallipher screamed bloody murder at the other woman. She screamed all the negativity from her heart into her lungs. 

“The Earth can’t be dead!” She found herself wailing the same words. Over and over again, her voice became hoarse. After millenia of taking care of the Earth… it couldn’t be true. Not after all this time. The other woman, Kaeon Liverpool, sat beside the rocking Kallipher. 

“Think about it though,” Kaeon breathed. “You no longer need to care for them, no more humans.”  She stopped screaming, just to stare at Kaeon. She stood up, coldly. 

“The Earth was my home, my serenity and hope. You fool!” She raised her hand to strike the woman, only to falter. 

“I would hurt no one, but for once, I face the hellish temptation.”

[iola-s]

“Lover” written by iola (unfinished)

She stared at the temple, her brows furrowing. Her eyes concentrated on bits and pieces of the temple wall. The “roses” and “vines” that caught her eyes were just pieces of paper- origami roses made from old notes and the vines were cut up arts and crafts, made by someone bored with their mythology notes. 

Something about the notes, written in another language, an old, undecipherable language. Something about the notes made sense, a vague feeling of knowledge creeped up her spine into her brain. 

[iola-s]

“Touch Starved” written by iola (unfinished)

~~sexual TW~~

The day I realized I was touch starved, I became a prostitute. I thought “Touch Starved” meant someone had never seen my curves or felt my cheek against their face as we french-kissed. I thought “someone” meant anyone. I thought someone could be the man who was my neighbor, the people across the street. I thought anyone would suffice. 

Everyday, as a prostitute, I showed off my body to men. They paid me to do it. They paid me however much I demanded, writing checks for a solid $60, with no care in their carnality filled mind. They wanted someone. Not me. They, too, were touch starved. They yearned for a woman to call their name out, in a fit of rough and caring sex. Moans filled the room, names exchanged in breaths. Over and over did I hope, wish, and ask Jesus to bring me a man who made me feel love. Who made me feel whole, who made me feel human, animal, and pure, all rolled in one. 

He never delivered.

[iola-s]

untitled document, written by iola

I stared at the man who jousted for my hand. No one knew him from anywhere, no one even recognized the armor he donned. As the crowds cheered, calling no name, I smiled as he defeated and defeated and defeated. While he jousted for my hand, I only wondered in my head who he was. He had no insignia on his beautiful armor, no face to be known by, just a racehorse who everyone knows as “Thou”, no one knows why he’s “Thou”. 

He, after winning a horse and making two men lose a helmet, rode up on Thou, he stared at me with foreign eyes. He was no one and everyone, he made me smile, even though I knew him not. 

“Unnamed Knight,” I call upon him once again. This happens every joust, I ask for a name, which I never will receive.

[iola-s]

“Warrior Guts” written by iola

~~~AMAZING PIECE~~~

~~~inspired by @normal-horoscopes and their horoscopes~~~

~edited~

“I understand your fear,” A little girl, 15 years old, said to God one day. Or she thought she understood the fears of an immortal. Lanie McAdams was a naturally fearful gal, fearing the smallest spiders and the largest cliffs that decorated this God-Given gift of a world.

“I understand your fear,” Lanie, one day, said to the crisp cool air that surrounded her.

“I understand your fear. I’ll go and kill the monster you fear, the beast in the woods. I promise.” Lanie vowed. While she was fearful, she was too kind and impulsive. Lanie knew she would die in the feat, that didn’t dwindle down her hurtful optimism though.

So, an hour later, young Lanie left her Grandma’s house with her deceased Granpa’s sword. She began venturing into the Great Unknown, pride in every step. Looking at the forest floor, she found a cool rock. It was way more than a rock. 

What if I get hungry? She pondered for a moment, standing in the wild woods, before turning right around to head to the plaza in her hometown.

“I’ll get some bread for this special, extravagant rock.” 

Pretty quickly after turning around, the familiar view of the colorful tents popped back up in the view. The tents lined the streets of Echkar, large and small tables decorated the plaza. Lanie walked through the clutter of people, a soft smile on her face. 

“Hey Julien!” She waved energetically. Julien’s face lit up seeing the girl again.

“How can I help you, young girl? Why do you carry your G-Pa’s sword?” He probed gently. Lanie laughed heartily even though a twinge of anxiety centered in her stomach. 

“Oh you wouldn’t like the reason.” She looked away.

Moments later, she pulled out the cool rock she found and showed Julien.

“Look at this!” She held up the black and purple rock to the sky’s natural

Light. A little glow, a blue, iridescent glow emitted from the rock. As people caught a glimpse of the rock, they began crowding around Lanie and Julien. 

“Whoa!” Some people gasped, some shouted at the obvious beauty.

“I’ll trade you this cool rock for a loaf!” She exclaimed before letting Julien hold it and feel the rough edges and the smooth side of the rock. He smiled.

“Alright, gal. I can do a quarter loaf, no more than that.” Immediately, Lanie agreed and grabbed the bread and sprinted off into the woods.

By the time she was halfway to the heart of the woods, the green magical forest welcomed every step she took. The lazy, warm wind would kiss her skin love and luck. The flowers that bloomed around every step would cherish her “Oohh's and “Aahh’s, every flower messaging love and luck, even if she didn’t know any flower language. Her heart knew the message the woods seemed to chant silently.

When the sun hid behind the trees and clouds, the wind cooled and the flowers turned into frosted weeds. Lanie knew she was in the Beast’s Lair. When the cold air bid “Adieu” to her life, she started fearing for herself. Before she walked unknowingly into her death, she had romanticized her standing on the Beast's big, ugly head and herself never fearing for herself or her life ever again. 

Now that she was here, now that she had promised to try the beast’s slayer, she had to. 

“I’ll be okay,” she found herself whispering to herself as the aura of the Great Unknown darkened. 

“I’ll be okay,” “I’ll be okay,”

By now, it was pitch black in the woods. Somewhere beyond tree roots and beyond the cold wind, a skeleton appeared to Lanie. The bones were stark white and they wore a robe of a king and carried a skateboard. They mumbled something about “The Graveyard”.

Knowing immediately that that’s where Lanie was headed, Lanie swallowed her anxiety and tightened her grip on the sword and attempted to approach the… skeleton.

The talking and walking skeleton with no meat on their bones, no nerves, no brain. Yet they walked and talked. They continually walked forward, never hearing her cries for them to slow down.

As she followed the skeleton, calling out for them to slow down, begging for them to at least stop, they stopped abruptly. Their head turned to the side. A crunching noise followed the turn of the skull. The sounds, the cool air, the fear in her belly, it all made the adventure she was on; seem no fun anymore.

In that moment, all of her memories, her hopes and dreams, and troubled days came out. She puked into the dying soil, hoping to God that this wasn’t real. She was scared, so scared at the moment. “What If’s” stormed her mind, leaving her swirling in a giant tsunami of terror. She let it all go, tears and puke hitting the dirt. 

Instead of the skeleton ignoring her completely, it approached. Their tendon-less, skeleton hands reached for the back of her shoulder to pat her on the back to comfort her. The rigidness of the bones, carved with truth and pain, love and loss, made with precision and sigils, all of it made her all the more frightened. 

“CHILD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” It asked in the calmest, kindest of voices she’d ever heard before. Closer and kinder than her passed Mother’s.

Lanie blinked away tears. This voice, although never hearing it, was a verbal home. It was the place she imagined about, yet it could also be the energy that calmed her soul. It made her want to live. 

“I’m here to kill the beast, the one God fears.” The child stuttered. The skeleton nodded knowingly.

“LANIE MCADAMS? I KNOW OF YOU. BRAVE ONE, SIT, SPEAK WITH ME.” They said loudly. To Lanie, the loudness of their voice gave her a moment’s relaxation from the anxiety. How, on God’s green Earth, did it enunciate so clearly when they didn’t have vocal cords?

“What did you want to talk about, Caretaker?” Lanie asked the skeleton. The Caretaker didn’t speak for a moment. They, a brainless but vastly intelligent being, started slowly.

“LANIE, THE BEAST, THERE’S A CHANCE THAT YOU WON’T FIND THE BEAST… THE BEAST WILL FIND YOU.” The skeleton hesitated foretelling Lanie McAdam’s death. Her eyes glossed over. 

“Oh.” Nothing else was uttered for a good few moments. 

“I WILL BE THERE, IF AND WHEN YOU DIE… EVEN IF IT’S NOT TODAY, YOUNG ONE, I WILL BE THERE.” 

With those frightening words, with those words of death, a shiver ran down her spine with such a tidal wave of fear. It was a riptide you could never escape. 

“I don’t want to die, Caretaker.” 

“YOU MUST BE BRAVE. EITHER WAY, THROUGH LIFE AND DEATH, YOU WILL BE OKAY. YOU HAVE NO REASON TO FEAR THE AFTERLIFE, AS I, AND OTHERS WHO SPIN DESTINY, LOOK AT YOU WITH THE UTMOST RESPECT…” The skeleton paused. Lanie, repeatedly wiping their tears, nodded. 

“I MUST GO. I CANNOT SEE YOU CALL DEATH.” And with a snap, the skeleton was gone. Lanie blinked away more tears.

Hours later, she stumbled into a garden. The garden was beautiful with overgrown flowers for the people who used to live here. Lanie sighed slowly, wandering the beautiful plant-filled heaven. A tree in the center had beautiful, scrumptious looking red fruit. They looked way bigger than regular apples. Juicier. As she was tempted into taking a big bite out of the apple lookalike, a giant beast showed.

Without much thought, Lanie McAdams charged with a war cry that made her fears exit her body. Just adrenaline. She had no idea how to use a sword, but she kept trying to stab and slice away the beast

She shrieked in rage, she put all of her anger, all her fear she experienced in her life into trying to kill God’s fear. She understood fear but it didn’t understand her. It just pushed the fight or flight button, pounding it into her brain panels, over and over again. Lanie McAdams found herself lonely and scared of the world she grew up in. She didn’t need that, she concluded today. 

Finally the ravenous monster grabbed her sword and swallowed it whole, leaving her defenseless. She stared at it, her big eyes staring it down. She eyed the monster as it approached slowly and menacingly. It’s eyes never left her’s. 

“I’M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!” She roared, picked up a sharp and angular tree branch laying in the front of the garden. As it sized her up, she, as fast as her long legs would take her, Lanie stabbed the stick in it’s eye, making it angrier. With one motion of it’s head, she was launched across the garden and hit the cliff face. 

As promised, the skeleton returned to her side. Knowing how hard Lanie McAdam hit the side of the cliff, they knew she couldn’t return words anymore.

“YOU BRAVE, BRAVE WOMAN. I… WE ARE SO PROUD. GOD DID NOT DESERVE YOUR KINDNESS. I HOPE THEY REPAY IT WELL AND SOON.” They paused.

“AS A TOKEN OF YOUR BRAVERY, I WILL TAKE YOU TO THE AFTERLIFE. THE ONE MEANT FOR WARRIORS AND THE KINDEST OF PEOPLE. YOU WILL BE ABLE TO TRAVEL AT YOUR HEART’S CONTENT.”

[iola-s]

“Promise from a devil” written by iola

~~~TW: Christian-related content, suicide mentions~~~

~going in the college portfolio~

I stared at the man who worked for hell. Hell. Hell, I feared, being a Catholic.  But, when you “move on” or whatever, it’s not eternal damnation. It’s more like therapy. Therapy to make you realize your sins and help you move into “Heaven”, or reincarnation, as they explained it.

He smiled softly, black eyes glittering with positivity. He was a kind “therapist”. He listened intently before pausing you for a moment when you finished speaking. He was better than what I deserved, anyways.

“Mary,” he paused, trying to think of the right words for the situation. I looked away from him. Silence. The bad thing about Josh is, he thinks a lot. He overanalyzes, I think. 

“You committed suicide, one sin Heaven specifically doesn’t like. You can’t expect things to get better down here, do you? What was so… appealing about it? God wasn’t good enough?” He probed. I stared at the floor, the floorboards were new. Spruce instead of birch, dark instead of l-.

“Mary,” He called my name exasperatedly. 

“Why did you kill yourself?” His tone got so much more annoyed. My eyes flickered up at the lightswitch. Painted with a happy face, to represent some horseshit. I blinked away tears as Josh stared at me. His stares were always the worst, I thought to myself. 

“Impulse.” 

The silence in between us was rough. He thought some more before speaking. The usual. 

“Impulse? Can you elaborate?” My eyes flickered to meet his, for a brief moment. I sighed deeply, a sign of my hesitation to give answers.

“I just… had an impulse. Combined with intrusive thoughts, I stood no chance.” I managed to say quietly. He frowned, the kind glitter in his eyes disappeared.

“God wasn’t important? Good?” My eyes drifted away. I hate how interrogative he is when you’re done speaking. 

“Impulses are just the monkey brain’s way to be stoopid.” I reminded him. My throat burned. A lot. I changed my mind on Josh. He’s annoying, full of questions and trying to do his job well.

More silence. Why couldn’t I have a therapist who understands me? More wondering for another night. 

“Okay, Mary.” He set his pencil down carefully before speaking again. 

“You killed yourself because you had an impulse and intrusive thoughts. Tell me what those thoughts were.” He baited me like a fish attracted to a worm. I am the fish and he’s baiting me with freedom from him- a chance to finally reincarnate.

“I was scared God didn’t love me.” I answered after a few long minutes. I looked back at the birch floorboards, tears once again blurring my vision.  Silence.

More minutes later, he starts speaking again. His mouth forming the letter sounds, his eyes stared at the same floorboards I stared at. He was clearly nervous to say this. 

“Tell you this, Mary Smith….” he paused for a moment, debating with himself whether he should say this or not.

“God doesn’t love you. Or me. Or any of those whack-ass creatures he developed.” At the words ‘God doesn’t love you,’ my eyes widened. My tears began dripping down my nose and chin, onto those ugly floorboards. The words replayed in my mind.

As soon as he said that, he watched me for a moment before continuing. 

“So what?” He asked gently. I looked back up at him, anger and fear engulfing my blood, my heart, my brain. 

“So everything!” I lost my cool. I began yelling and screaming the so-what’s. 

“God is supposed to love me! Like the Bible said!” I wail. 

“So what was my life? A lie?” I bark. He doesn’t answer, his glitter returning.

He smiled before starting to speak again. 

“So what. The big man upstairs doesn’t love you. So what? I mean, he doesn’t deserve you! Just as any person ever, just because you want them to love you, why should they? They’re their own person, own life, own things to do and achieve. And so why does God need to love you? Because that’s what the storybook said? You are still worth life, even if the almighty could care less.” Josh said. 

I stared at him.“As soon as I escape Hell, I’ll drag you out with me. You may think you’re horrible because of your past, you think you deserved to die. Well, not true. God didn’t love you, so damn what? I’ll show you what real love is. I can do better than any God.” Josh growled, a sparkle in his eyes.

[iola-s]

“Ritual” written by iola

~~~unedited~~~

~going into the college portfolio~

~yes im aware the character’s name is iola and IM iola. im deciding the name still, pls no judgement---~

Iola closed her eyes slowly as the Elder mixed the Holy Oil together. She inhaled deeply, letting the strong, beautiful smells invade her nostrils. As she breathed out, she opened her eyes. 

“Do you, Iola Victoria, bind yourself to Esen, God of war? Promise to stand behind him in a fight for justice?” The village Elder asked, voice just above a whisper. Iola unsheathed her iron and amethyst sword. She, without a word, undid her beautifully done hair and didn’t hesitate to cut the hair that she spent her life growing. The Elder knelt low to the ground and took a strand of the long hair and stood up straight, before murmuring a chant. They then added the hair to the holy oil. The liquid gold turned a blue-ish purple.

 The Elder’s eyes, a coalish black, turned golden. A sure sign of the God-Angel, Esen. In a voice that didn’t belong to the Elder spoke one word.

“Kneel.” The voice was a powerful one, it enunciated beautifully. Without thought, Iola sank to her left knee and her right arm placed over her heart, she closed her eyes once more. The Elder, with his voice, began murmuring a chant, a spell, while pouring a circle around Iola. As the circle was cast, her heart rate skyrocketed. It was horrible, the pounding in her ears, to the sounds of a long-ago war. Screams of men, sobs of women, pleas from children. 

When Iola reopened her eyes, she saw everything gone, no forest, no sky, no village elders. The only “person” she saw in front of her was the man-made-God. He was handsome, but his face and any visible skin she saw was littered with scars. Beauty polluted by war. His eye color was a deep, dark, unfathomable brown with golden specks destroying the almost void. The eyes were menacing, more so than the scars that told the stories.

“Iola, Knight of Pentacles, and worker of wars. I name you so you may stand a chance and fight me.” He growled. A tremor ran through the quiet, lifeless land. The quiver in the land created a perfect circle around her feet. 

Her eyes glittered. A fight to be named “Paladin”. She drew her sword, no longer iron and amethyst but obsidian and diamond.  

As soon as Iola stepped from the circle around her, he removed his sword, pure diamond, and the dance of names began. If she won, she would be awoken from this astral projection, and she’d be named “High Knight”, “Paladin”, “Knight of Pentacles”, and “Worker of Wars”, she’d no longer be the guard no one cared about, no longer be expendable. If he killed her, she wouldn’t wake up from the projection. Iola would be cursed to talk with Meera, Goddess-Angel of reincarnation and death, about a pitiful reincarnation or an invite to the Kaar, the underworld for people who tried and failed. 

They paced around the spit of land, both never daring to look away from each other. This was slow-moving and agonizing. The epic sword fight she was so confident she’d win wasn’t happening, yet.  With a huff, Iola stopped in her tracks. Esen, however, did not. He continued stalking towards her, his steps slow and precise. She looked at him for a moment, before impulsively sprinting towards the God, sword at the ready. 

With her actions so obvious, he quickly outwitted her, his sword dislodging her grip on her’s. It went flying. Glancing at it, she watched as it fell to the ground. When her eyes fell back on Esen, he had already made the move- he used his free hand to punch Iola in the cheekbone, confusing her for a moment. Before she could comprehend and sprint away, he used the hilt of his sword and hit her forehead just hard enough to get on the ground.

As Iola was preparing to beg to the War God, to not kill her, his diamond blade pierced her gut. She began screaming and screaming, like the men she heard being welcomed to their death in the beginning of the ritual. She clenched her eyes shut as he killed her, her life ebbing from her body. And all was black.

Overall??? even with 0 edits, I would give this 10/10. Is this biased because I’m the writer? yes, completely. I felt really proud of this, even if it’s not edited. 

[iola-s]

Introduction to ME

Hi! I’m iola. I’m a 17 year old NONBINARY kid. I’ve been a creative writer all of my life, only getting serious about creative possibilities 4, nearly 5 years ago. My other hobbies include painting, sketching, collage, collecting + reading tarot cards. 

In a few words, I would describe myself as ambitious, creative, and impatient. 

~~~ambitious~~~

I can be really unrealistic about my projects. Once, when creating collage tarot cards, I was trying to complete... about 7 stacks of 30 cards in a month??? For Christmas for family and friends. Did I finish this project? NOPE. But I still have some collage tarot and oracle cards. I gave my sister some as a present and I DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE REST, OFC. ANYWAYS. 

~~~creative~~~

Hi, I’m iola! I tend to only focus on art as its only thing I think I can focus on without going ballistic!!! Even then that’s a stretch.

~~~impatient~~~

also, hi, I’m iola. I get really excited or agitated by a lot of things. I, when going to Michael's or even Walmart for my own accord, I get really impatient and MUST GO IMMEDIATELY. 

Fun Fact: I have 27 tarot, oracle, and cartomancy decks. About to have 29 after I get Disney villain tarot along with @ publishinggoblin’s alley-man tarot. 

Fun Fact: I NEARLY oh so nearly finished a book in 8th/9th grade! It was the classic “assassin sent to make someone love u before they kill u” book called “Hostage”. Still trying to get into my old email, just for chapter 7 and the finale. THOSE WERE GOOD FOR BEING INEXPERIENCED.