Love How Tumblr Has Its Own Folk Stories. Yeah The God Of Arepo Weve All Heard The Story And We All Still

Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

Anakin: Obi-Wan and Cody sitting on a tree

Ahsoka: K-I-S-S-I-N-G

Cody: listen here you little-

Obi-Wan: oh I don't think we'd just be kissing if we got a moment alone from you two.

Obi-Wan, smirking: We would be doing something ~much better~

Cody, blushing:...

Anakin:...

Ahsoka:...

Rex: I HATE THIS FAMILY

xenk: okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

edgin: AS ENEMIES?!

xenk:

Tumblr's Favourite Grishaverse Character

“Each Starday I pay visit to the ill at the temple hospital,” Xenk said. “The clerics of Eldath allow me to provide succor where I can.” 

Edgin squinted. “Okay. But what do you do for fun?” 

“Fun?” Xenk echoed. It seemed that he had never conceived of this word before, relating to himself. After a worrisomely long pause, he confessed. “I have been known to read for pleasure.” 

“That’s … something I guess,” Edgin sighed. “Let me guess - courtly poetry? Epics of ancient battles?” 

“This, I recently finished.” Xenk reached into his pack and retrieved a well-thumbed book bound in cheap parchment. Emblazoned over a painting of a half-elf bard, shirt torn to his navel, being bent over by a knight in full armor - The Paladin’s Wicked Oath. 

Edgin raised his eyebrows. “Well … I didn’t expect that.” 

“Despite the title, Ser Gervassius’s intentions are not wicked at all,” Xenk said reassuringly. “Though perilous forces throw them together, Robinet and  Gervassius share a deep and earnest bond. The author - Goodwife Isobelle - does not correctly represent a paladin’s oath, but she has such understanding of men’s souls.” With a lingering sigh, Xenk placed the book in Edgin’s palm and clasped both hands around it. “It is nothing short of stirring. I implore you to read it.” 

“Really, it’s okay,” Edgin mumbled. “I don’t need …” 

“What’re you two still doing out here?” Holga walked up. “Oh hey. It’s Edgin’s book.” 

“It is my book,” Xenk answered, confused as Edgin looked at Holga with a frantic expression, shaking his head.

“Edgin’s book,” Holga emphasized. “The one he wrote. Under that stupid penname.” She took the book from Edgin’s slack hand. “Goodwife Isobelle,” she snorted. “Edgin’s never been a good wife a day in his life.” 

“Well!” Edgin clapped his hands, determinedly not looking at Xenk as his ears burned. “Holga is right. What are we still doing out here? Time to get a move on … !” 

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