#also paw reveal I Guess

[demonstars]

flowers for dash

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

after listening to an among us song i was given the drive to reboot this au so ,

originated from a doodle that spiraled , SPREAD THE INFLUENCE is an au where ragatha is the ( unwilling ) host of a parasite called ' the influence ' which is a virus that only wants to spread and survive . she wasn't compliant about it at the beginning which was ' fixed ' with an itty bitty bit of psychological torment !

also yes i know the abbreviation is unfortunate and i do not care it's funny

even though ragatha's still our usual sweet little optimist , there is this persistent feeling of wrongness . too positive . too affectionate . it's like all of her humanity has been scooped out and you're left with the mask she made for others in the circus .

which is how the virus spread in the circus - they preyed on vulnerabilities which was what their host is perfect for . striking when the victim puts their guards down , making them submit under the guise that their problems will be fixed ... unfortunately it's a monkey's paw situation .

of course , that's only for this particular instance of the influencer ! something to note is that the virus takes a lot from the host's personality , so t.i's mellow and passive , only resorting to violence whenever necessary . t.i's not really an opposite ragatha she's more like a Dark , Fucked Up Version of ragatha the amazing digital circus . she cares a lot for everyone she considers a part of her hive , but it took a lot of manipulation and gaslighting for them to get infected .

caine is left uninfected because " i would do that if my goal is to destroy this place ! " t.i's ultimate fear has always been dying . it'll do everything to not die , to the point it's trying to spread out of the circus ( <- honestly take this info with a grain of salt i wrote this before i fully developed the story ) . unfortunately there's this jester who's resisting the virus with pure lesbian rage and is trying to stop her .

now rags would eventually get de-influenced and the circus will no longer be infected , but we will talk about the extremely rocky journey of recovering from knowing you harmed everyone you cared about Later

was this ' the influence ' that amanda ( ragatha's va ) keeps referencing ? sighs ... yeah . ( feels so surreal that i can say i have their seal of approval for this )

why ragatha ? in story , how is she not the perfect host ? metatextually , this is an au of an au - this came from a blog about ragatha getting a virus that is inconveniencing her life . i simply thought of an idea of ' hey what if the virus took over her body ' one day . then this abomination was born . i would reveal the why and how she got infected ... eventually .........

is she still afraid of centipedes ? is it a ragatha if she doesn't have a fear of centipedes

does pomni still use a taser ? yeah

could i use / be inspired by the influence for my au ? i did not invent the concept of Computer Viruses so feel free to be inspired by it , no credit needed . for t.i as a character specifically , please credit me !

are there ships ? just pomni x ragatha

is suggestive content of t.i ok ? just don't send them to me , tag it as #tw suggestive or #suggestive so i could filter it out

is nsfw content of t.i ok ? my tiny artist hands are powerless against the unstoppable force that is the internet so my answer will not matter . that being said , i recommend that they're not put in the main au tag so people won't unexpectedly come across it . and no i do not want to see it please do not send them to me

could i draw fanart / write fanfic of this au ? 100% yes you could either mention me or tag it under #tadc influence au

does this au have an ask blog ? nah just a normal blog lol

READ THE COMIC ... I GUESS ... !!

the main story

oh boy a prologue

[bunji-enthusiast]

One Whole, Became Two

Note || this took me so long to write, but I love this stupid idiot platonically. Chapter three my sleep-deprived folks 👍🏻

WC || 3,312

<(part 1)><(previous part)><(you are here)>

Sypnosis || you bring back a dear old dead heart to a wounded dog.

If someone ever told you that you would’ve come back to a desolate factory full of death and damnation you would tell them that in what world in which would that happen? You never would’ve heeded their words.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You hated being wrong.

Yet, many things may have happened, some of which allowed you to get in some exercise… you also gained some new friends. They are very near and dear to you, despite the small numbers you retain in your ragtag group of allies. You preferred the terminology friends, you’ve gotten close with Kissy Missy and Poppy, even DogDay too!

Speaking of which, this accursed Playcare was still a little too dark for your liking. You needed more power, more light to go the right way necessary. A light chuckle breaks you out of your thoughts, “A-angel, do you need some help?” DogDay inquired, watching as you had tried to remember which way he had pointed to the medical station.

You shook your head egregiously, trying to affirm your belief as you spoke, “I got it… I swear I know which way it is!” Your shoulders slumped as you let out a defeated sigh, having to hate asking him for help.

Asking for help wasn’t necessarily your most favorite thing in the world, in for the most of miniscule of things. You thought it was ridiculous, insipid to do, in no way would you ever ask for said help unless you really were struggling.

Apparently as of right now, these were one of those moments that you were truly struggling, and it was with directions as well. You couldn’t be any more ashamed, “Could you m-maybe tell me where it was again?”

DogDay let out an amused bark, not merely in making fun of you. He thought you were just cute, the way you were embarrassed, though DogDay will never actually admit this feeling to you. “Okay, Angel, you see that sign over there? It points to the direction of the medical station.” Your large companion points to the sign in question, you sorely cannot miss it no way, his paw was big. Actually, it’s nearly the size of your head.

“Ah, focus!”

The pathway was riddled with broken cobblestone and dirt, but do-able to make your way through. You just hated broken paths, no trouble still.

You nod to let him know you saw it, walking over to the sign that was now a few pacings away from you. The silence had now settled in place for the lack of conversation, it was seemingly getting awkward enough as is. Suddenly, a new voice interjects on the radio of your walkie-talkie.

“Oh there you are! I wasn’t able to connect to you on that side of the dome!” His light voice carried an undercurrent of worry. “No ouchies or lost body parts?”

DogDay raised a brow as you two had continued making your way to the medical station. You nodded your head curtly, as if angling your head to signify you’d explain the kid on the radio at a later time. You spoke out in reply, knowing full well you weren’t in any real danger at the moment, “I’m uh, I’m fine Ollie. Just taking care of a friend, they got hurt… real bad.” A wince left your throat at the tone you carried within your words, you didn’t expect that.

A thought rushed into your head, “Why’d I word it like that? I guess I’m just worried about revealing DogDay to Ollie just yet.” DogDay patted your leg as to reassure you, eyes gleaming as if they were smiling down upon you. 

“Alright, you can introduce me later,” Ollie paused, as if he were hesitating to get the words out of his mouth. As if something was holding him back from doing so, “Take care of them first then I’ll tell you what to do next. See you!”

Then, the radio was now silent. You let out a breath you held in your lungs, sometimes forgetting to breathe reminds you to even breathe manually. An odd habit but nobody will nitpick that for the life of all there is to know and exist. 

An abrupt cough shocked you out of your thoughts, you immediately became concerned for DogDay who had been patiently waiting for your dilemma and conversation to end. You knelt down and checked over his body, “No need to worry.” You lodged his resistance in the back of your head, looking for any external wounds beside the most obvious ones. 

“I shouldn’t have stopped.” You murmur, gently picking him up. There was no way you’d let him drag himself along the floor, not until he was in a better state.

“We’re alright Angel,” DogDay sputtered, you were unimpressed, not phased by his words. “Really… but who was that if I may ask?” 

Steadily, you continued walking–the stupid medical station finally in reach. “Ollie, apparently sometime after I dropped down here he told me he was an ally of Poppy.” You then trailed off, not sure if you wanted to mansplain the entirety of the story down right to when you came across DogDay. Sighing, you begrudgingly open the door to the station.

The room was messy, akin to the state of many other locations in Playcare. But in your modest opinion, you truly did not care about that. You just really needed to fix up DogDay, and he was the focal point of your attention right now. “Angel, you seemed to be incredibly bothered.” 

DogDay shifted on the weight of his body as you began setting him down, if you were being truthful, you couldn’t refute that very fact. Yet you felt too angry to get the words across, “I know, I.. I guess this stupid factory just has me all on edge.”

Then a silence settled into place, as neither of you were unsure of what to say next. Everything and nothing was happening all at the same time. You walked over the ruined carpet, it looked as if it was made in the 1980’s. Some doors seemed to be torn off of it’s hinges, but at least the supplies were barely stolen. There was enough to treat DogDay properly, as much as you can manage within your knowledge anyway.

The hard part would be treating DogDay, (as you unfortunately didn’t have enough knowledge medically) and getting him his legs back so he could walk on his own as well. 

Gently, you opened a door to a closet, full of bandages and gauze. 

“Perfect timing, guess I didn’t need to look that hard.” You thought to yourself, your hands already grabbing the bandages and gauze. A small smile graced your cracked lips, carrying a genuine air with you, “Hey, DogDay I found some supplies. Looks like they left this place pretty untouched.” You waved at him, holding the aforementioned supplies in hand. 

DogDay perked up from where he had been looking at some stray medical papers, most likely files of every patient to come in and out of the station. “Oh!.. Thank you greatly. You really are an angel my friend.” You become bashful at his words, an embarrassed chuckle leaving you as you scratched the back of your head. Standing up you walk back over to the large dog, motioning for DogDay to position himself to where you can get to all the spots correctly.

You sighed, having to take a moment in order to set yourself into focus, this was important. You didn’t want to screw up something so crucial to DogDay’s health, “Ok, This might hurt a little so bear with me.” You warn, crouching down as you laid out the supplies.

“I have no doubt you will do fine!” DogDay encouraged you, settling down to be calmer for you. Fine, yes you can do fine. Okay well enough maybe, you just need to be careful!

Why was this so difficult?

“Stupid brain, Stop giving me all these thoughts!” You groan lowly, setting into place to mend his more major wounds with a contemporary suture. First off, you needed to clean the suture, to which you had quickly done. 

You gently pressed a wet rag to the most prominent area, cleaning it out of any debris that might be left behind in the wound. DogDay was simply listening and quiet upon your actions, clearly a little too impressed for your liking. You swabbed the wound with water then threw away the rag a few meters from you, you internally winced at that. 

Injuries are a major case for you ever since you stepped foot into this factory, you just never expected to be having to treat another person (or toy for that matter). 

“Angel?” You let out a hum in reply, suturing the wound as he spoke. “You seem… incredibly bothered, maybe you should try to talk about it.” DogDay shifted slightly, wincing a little as he had done so. Concern washes over your expression as you went to hold him, he held out a hand to reassure you he was fine.

“Well.”

You sat back on the heel of your foot as you thought about it for a moment, your brows knitted together. It was practically hurting your head, giving you a headache to be thinkin about every little thing that was running through your head.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line, unsure of whether or not to air your concerns. But it seems you weren’t gonna have any other chance to talk about it then right now, you just didn’t wanna dump everything on DogDay all at once. 

Practically would seem like a lot. Far too much to say and too little to be sure of. 

“I guess I’m just concerned over whether or not I really can trust Poppy,” You signal, having a habit of talking with your hands. “And this, Prototype guy… didn’t you say CatNap worships this thing like a god?”

He nods, “Yes, I didn’t join the Prototype. Which is why he had deemed me a heretic.” You frown at his words, nobody deserves that type of treatment. Making it even worse, you would assume the two used to be very good friends. 

“Oh dear,” You echo, recoiling suddenly in embarrassment for voicing something you didn’t realize slipped out of your mouth. DogDay laughs at this, waving his hand as he sits himself upright so as to not slip onto his back, “You are very much correct Angel.” He nods, “If anything, he’s no longer the old CatNap I’ve come to know him as.”

You shrug, a little unsure of the situation right now. Then a thought you finally needed ran across your mind, “Hey, would you happen to remember where your legs are or if… any spare ones laying around anywhere?” You motion around the room as you spoke, voice trailing off as you sat back, and awaiting DogDay’s response. He appeared to be deep in thought, clearly thinking about your question.

“I believe they have some spares in a storage room at this station,” DogDay gestures at the specific door he thought of in mind. “But Angel, I might be wrong. Don’t trouble yourself for my sake beyond this.” His voice strains, as if pleading. 

You chewed your lips, nodding your head once more as you headed to the door of origin. You quietly crept into the room, seeing how dark and dank it was. Slowly but surely your eyes had adjusted to the light. 

“Now, where are you… stupid legs.” You mutter, taking notice of some poppy gas that laid in wait in the corner, not to mention how badly scratched this room was in particular. Probably the work of CatNap or some other toy. On instinct, your legs drove you forward as you stepped into the gas with a gas mask inset upon your face. You certainly didn’t feel like dying from the gas, or passing out for that matter.

You had a debt to pay.

Your eyes wandered aimlessly as you palmed around for the supposed legs, feeling around for each and every inch possible that you might miss. 

Suddenly you felt a fuzzy feeling run up across your arm, you jostled in surprise, a happy squeak leaving your throat when you pick up the legs. “Thank you, sweet baby jesus.” You huff in reprise, feeling accomplished at the place of convenience.

If you could laugh right now, it would be possible, heaven sure as hell wasn’t a place for angels anymore. Not even you, but you still had to follow through, you came here in the first place anyway.

A small sigh left your esophagus as you turned, walking back through as you made careful note not to trip walking back too. 

Something had your mind occupied, demons infested this place. Elliot Ludwig had created this place, and if he so proclaims to want to bring joy to thousands upon thousands of children around the world then why would he permit the experiments. All those children and the elderly… your heart couldn’t help but ache at the mere thought. 

You shake your head to get your mind out of the unilluminated gutter, DogDay lit up upon seeing you in his sights once more. “Angel, you are alright.” He mentions, paw held to his chest as if he were breathing a sigh of relief.  

Your nose was scrunched as you gutted a snort, “You say that like it’s so surprising DogDay.” DogDay shrugs, as if he was now expressing the vulnerability of being embarrassed at the prospect of his own words. 

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” You wave him off, DogDay remains silent at this, not having any thought at what to say back to you. You were right though, he shouldn’t be doubting you for what even anyone in particular is worth. Being freed for what feels like the first time in forever had been leaving him with brand new thoughts, even though he had been thinking and left well alone for nearly over a decade now.

One door closes, infinite more are open. One must beware the foreign class, otherwise you may as well see yourself dead. 

“I truly do apologize for Poppy’s actions… we all mean well.” DogDay begins, trailing off into nearly an inconceivable silence. You set down the legs, to which DogDay is delighted at this brand new aspect, yet still left without room to be uncouth. You didn’t speak at all, pressing between the fine line of the truth and his own words. 

“We must, break the circle.”

What?

“Angel?”

“You all are chained, if whatever happened all those years ago were true…” You sigh, rubbing the nape of your neck as you find yourself in an air of awkwardness. “Then I am also at fault for the way you guys are right now.” 

DogDay’s brows drew together, upset that you feel guilty for the entirety of this fortnight. At least it had felt that way for you, you sincerely had lost track of time since your watch had gotten destroyed. You tried keeping up with the time on the clocks you pass by, but you just generally had lost the energy and motion in doing so.

“Hmn.” He muttered to himself, then got up to hug you, which had clearly surprised you as you felt yourself being enveloped and wrapped in a very fluffy hug. You sigh and decompress after a few moments, the shock finally leaving your body.

“Thanks… DogDay,” You motion, patting the fluff resting upon his chest. “I actually really needed that, hugs are a rarity.” You admit, blush burning on your cheeks as you look away from him in a manner of speaking. You hear a chuckle interrupted by a cough, “Don’t thank me, you seemed to really need it Angel. Being exhausted is one thing, but no hugs?”

DogDay drew a paw to his chest as he spoke dramatically, “That is absolutely unacceptable!” Your hand crossed over your mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at what a drama king DogDay was posing as at this very moment. 

“You kinda remind me of someone I know.” You motion, then sat on the heels of your feet as you immediately went back to work in fixing up DogDay. 

“How so?” 

“You're pretty bright, act like a drama king sometimes and you even can be a little mean…” You wag a finger as you see him begin to protest at the mean comment, “I don’t mean like in a rude manner, just like in a brotherly way. You kind of act like a big brother sometimes.” You shrug with a hint of finality, fixing up his other injuries and repairing them with a gentle hand, even if the suture seemed to betray the tremble displayed. 

After silence had continuously settled in once again, you sigh, angling at the fact on what to do in order to mend DogDay’s very obvious injury with his lack of legs attached at the bottom of his torso. For a moment, you meander with the decision.

“Right, I’m gonna try my best to reattach them to you.” You spoke with a benign tone, more so displaying your own distrust of yourself. You hated that, you practically hated everything so why is this any different.

You just have to do it scared. 

Familiarity reigns over your heart as you see his large paw lay over your own hand, you sigh, sensations shuddering your body as you keep yourself calm. You silently thank DogDay as you gesture that you were okay now, you can be fine on your own.

You push the legs to his upper half, just barely enough that it would appear as if the legs were there and back again already. Your hand wanders over to the middle line, your eyes glaze over with forlorn worry taking your very worried brain. You sigh as you begin stitching, taking careful caution as you notice him flinching quite a few times throughout the process. At a leisurely pace, you notice by the influence you had made by taking care of him how much better he looks physically. 

Soon enough, you manage to completely stitch his legs back to right where they belong. “Well done, I knew you could do it Angel!.” DogDay shook with excitement, reassuringly glad at the prospect of being able to actually walk again. You swear you could collapse at the relief, you hold out a finger before you let him get excited any further, “I still need to bandage it all together, extra precaution if you catch my drift.”

Your large dog companion nods in understanding, shifting about so his body parts don't get sore from sitting in one place for too long. 

From before, grace was high in patriarchy, now then you were sure it was something high to fall from. You could climb to the top (bottom to be literal) and rip the Prototype off of his high horse, and free all the surviving toys. 

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself at the buzzing excitement that had resonated deep-seated into your heart. You quickly went to work on bandaging the middle line of his torso, carefully curating it enough so the bandages would cover the stitches completely. 

“There, now we are done and good to go!” You look up at DogDay, offering him a soft smile. “Angel really… thank you so much.” He gestures for you to come closer, so you oblige and go in, suddenly you feel yourself being hugged by unabashed warmth. You yelped as air bloomed across your skin, seeing as you are now in the air quite a few feet off the ground.

DogDay really was hugging you with the whole of his heart, so you melt into his touch, relenting as you found defeat–yet also peace with your furry friend.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 153 (Time For a Gender Reveal Party!)

On a rainy Saturday, Heather and Conrad were joined by friends and family for a gender reveal party in Brindleton Bay. Ash had hoped for a younger brother, but Lavender wanted a sister, and a gender reveal was a nice opportunity to bring loved ones together before they were busy at home with a newborn.

Plans to hold the party at Pupperstone Park with the pets were rained out, but Suri graciously allowed the Gordons to gather at the Salty Paw. She even agreed to let Daisy, who wanted to make a cake for the party, use her kitchen.

When Felix and Lilith arrived, Ash had to wait for his grandmother, Daisy, to gush over them for what they'd done to save him in Sulani. But after the legacy founder had showered them with gratitude, Ash placed what he'd made on the wooden bar. Using specs for an electronic upgrade part Lilith had ordered online, Ash designed a cardboard mock-up of the time travel component using plathinum, ironyum, and the shards, but he didn't have the tools to make it himself.

"I couldn't have drawn up these plans and designs, but I took welding in high school," said Lilith. "These are definitely easy enough to follow, and Emit's still around hanging out with my sister if we need more help back in Britechester."

Felix and Lilith were as loved up as ever. Even the truth of Felix's connection to Lilith's great-great-grandmother in his past life couldn't break them. He still had the ring, plotting the perfect way to propose, but today, at a celebration for their friends' baby, wasn't it.

Lilith even offered to mix drinks so Hazel or Suri wouldn't have to, happy to work on mixology skill left mostly dormant since college.

(Since the event didn't give us a tangible time travel device, I "made one" using the in-game icon. Janky or not, it's better than nothing! Also, I just missed him walking up to Lilith for an autonomous kiss, hence the awkward shot. Boo!)

Hazel was happy to let the Salty Paw serve as party central, but she refused to guess a gender even as Suri dipped into the buckets for a pair of pink shades. "I just don't know what's so important about declaring gender before the kid's even born. I know it's just a fun tradition, but I don't look good in glasses, anyway."

Heather smiled. "Don't worry about it. I know you'll love the baby the same no matter what. But Lavender, I really worry about. She doesn't want another brother at all."

The party was ostensibly for Lavender's benefit - the only one who truly cared whether or not she'd get a desired little sister. As such, even though Ash hoped for a brother, he picked pink glasses from the pink and blue bins near the punch bowl, along with both Heather and Conrad, to make her happy.

Heather greeted her dad with a hug, commiserating a moment over the family who couldn't be there. But Heather couldn't complain - Mortimer and Uncle Karl had taken River and Cass with Holly and Kris and all their kids to Willow Creek for a vacation.

Mortimer wanted to show them around the Goths' ancestral homeland, but he also planned to visit the family archives to look into the Landgraab-Goth connection suggested by the medallion in the jungle. Heather was undoubtedly curious over what they might find. She hoped it might ease her fears about a curse, but, deep down, she suspected otherwise.

Instead of dwelling on her fears, Heather focused on the guests who could make it. In addition to Felix and Lilith, hosts Hazel and Suri, and her parents, Everett and Spencer Pancakes paid a visit from Henford with their youngest, Violet, while their boys were away for a camping trip with school.

"Jett only went camping because Greyson was with him," Everett told Conrad at the bar. They both remembered their tragic camping trip in early spring, when Jett witnessed the death of Elsa Bjerg-Watson. "He's working with counselors just fine, but there's something he's locked away. He was such a chatty kid before all this, and now he might give you a few sentences. The only thing he talks about with any sense of interest anymore is death and the Reaper. I don't think he understands why Grim wouldn't let you plead."

Outgoing Felix introduced himself to the reverend with a charming smile. "I don't want this to be taken as unsolicited advice, but Lil and I looked at the benefits of moving to Ravenwood, recently, and something in particular might interest him. They host Afterlife Anonymous meetings, but they're for anyone. Not just ghosts, but anyone with questions about death and the afterlife."

Everett considered the idea and glanced toward the dance floor, where his wife moved to the jukebox with Lavender and their four-year-old daughter. "I'll talk to Spencer before we talk to Jett. I can rarely get away from the parish in Henford, but if it's something Jett needs, we'll make it happen. It's Felix, right? My wife says you were resurrected with ambrosia."

He nodded. "I was. I know some think that goes against the Watcher's design, but..."

"If the Watcher didn't sanction ambrosia, it wouldn't exist," Everett reasoned. "I had some concerns when the Ambrosia Society promoted their challenge last fall, because too much ambrosia, too many potions of youth, it can lead to overpopulation and corruption. But everything seems to be going well since, and I always trust the Watcher."

On the dance floor, young Violet Pancakes saw Lavender again for the first time since both were less than a year old. Now almost five, the girls chatted about toys and bounced to the music together.

Bella Goth made an appearance with her only granddaughter, Carina, entertaining the three-month-old while Alex and Lydia spent time with Jagger. "He's feeling a little neglected now he's got a baby sister, so they're off showing him a fun day with their complete attention while I get to play with this princess. I need some innocent cuddle time after Cali Skye came to visit me the other day. I thought I put all that work behind me."

"What did Agent Skye ask you to do, Mrs. Goth?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said, though Heather felt she wasn't saying everything. "We talked about those milk cartons people are collecting now, and how my face is on one of them. It's a little unnerving, and reminds me that I may never know where I went in the years I was missing, but we had a nice conversation. I just don't like to be reminded of the agency, that's all."

She cooed at dark-eyed Carina, who gazed curiously at Heather when Bella passed her over for a cuddle. "I've got to grab a pair of blue glasses for myself. I'm sure you're having a boy!" she chirped.

With Bella in the blue camp were Felix, Lilith, and Daisy, but Neal and Suri joined Ash, Heather, and Conrad on Team Pink. No one else went for a pair of glasses, which was fine. The buckets were there for those who wanted to play in solidarity with Lavender, who was too young to wear the shades, herself.

The party guests danced to the jukebox and dined on cake made by Daisy (exactly why I went for the balloon and not the cake-cutting reveal) before Heather and Conrad brought out a tall gold balloon. Once popped, either pink or blue powder would confirm if they were having a girl or a boy, and their guests gathered round in anticipation.

(Do you see how high Conrad is jumping?! It's amazing!)

Girl guesses outnumbered boy guesses by one (unlike the poll, which saw boy the top choice over girl and spider!), but the burst of blue didn't lie. Baby Gordon would be a boy, and everyone celebrated with noisemakers and confetti.

Conrad and Heather shared a warm embrace. All they cared for was a healthy baby, but this news wasn't unwelcome. Not to them, anyway.

Lavender, on the other hand, was tired and cranky after finding out she was due another brother. To make matters worse, the sugar high from the cake that sustained her for most of the afternoon had crashed hard. "It's okay, Lava. He'll be a nice brother, like me."

"No!" Lavender cried, stomping her feet and pushing away her brother's attempt at a hug with a kick. "I wanted a sister!"

"Ow, Lava! Don't kick me!"

Conrad had seen the whole thing and swooped in immediately. "Lavender Helena Gordon, apologize right now for kicking your brother."

"All I'll ever do is apolagize to brothers!" she complained.

"So start right now."

Her father's stern voice - a rarity at home - gave Lavender pause. She turned to her brother with a quiet apology before digging into some less sugary foods as the party wound down.

"Daddy, I'm not really mad about a brother," she explained after she'd calmed. "I won't be upset when baby brother gets here, I promise."

"It's okay to be disappointed, but it's not okay to be upset enough that you hurt people," explained Conrad. "If you're disappointed, just talk to us. We'll always listen."

Despite Lavender's outburst, the party was a success. People ate the food that was served, mingled happily, and danced in celebration at the Salty Paw.

Baby Boy Gordon's grand arrival was still a few months away, but after today, Heather and Conrad were even more excited for his arrival. ->

<- Previous Part (Gender Reveal Poll) | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF Poses? Heather and Conrad are posed before the cut with the amazing Us 3 posepack by Katverse.

NOTE: A lot of people who should be there weren't there because their circle is getting too big, but I do plan to show Mortimer and Uncle Karl and their trip in Willow Creek since they're going to investigate medallions and possible curses. So those we did not see aren't being totally forgotten!

NOTE 2: Lilith is not bothered by the connection to Maude Alcorn and I didn't make it a big scene, but you know me. That's probably not the end of it 👀

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (2/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest I'm sorry this Part Two took a little longer to get to you than I'd planned, but I hope you'll find it worth the wait! Again, it was lovely being your CS Secret Santa!! I hope you have a wonderful 2025!!

For the rest of my readers, I started over with my Curious Crew Tag List (which I typically do at the first of the year). Although I'm pretty sure I've added everyone who told me to date that they wished to be added, if I missed you (SORRY) or you wish to be added, please let me know!!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition square for the CS Winter Bingo!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One

Part Two

“Merry Christmas!”

Emma clinked her mimosa against the glasses of her family and friends then settled onto the sofa next to her brother. Taking a sip of the bubbly beverage, she perused the room and let the early morning alcohol warm her from the inside as the fireplace beside her took care of the outside.

Much as Killian had done for her last night.

Shaking off that thought - and the remnants of the dreams she’d had where he’d kept her warm in other ways - Emma tucked her legs beneath her and gave Liam her attention as he passed out the gifts.

The couples tended to exchange gifts with one another in private before they met as a group, and Emma imagined this year was no different. The gifts Liam was handing out were the ones each of them had brought for a specific member of their group. Every Thanksgiving they drew names at random so each person only had to buy something for one other person. Then, Christmas morning, they would all open their gifts and reveal who had bought for whom.

Emma was grateful that she did not have to buy something for everyone, but she did not enjoy the fact that they opened the gifts one at a time while the rest of the group watched, making the person unwrapping the center of attention.

Well, the person unwrapping and the person who had gifted it.

“David, I love it!” Elsa praised with a laugh, holding up the lightweight sweatshirt for everyone to see.

Printed across the front in bold lettering, it read: No. I don’t need a coat. The cold doesn’t bother me.

“That’s perfect,” Liam chortled, already tearing his gift open.

And around the room they went. After Elsa was Liam, then Kristoff, then Anna, who Emma had drawn and gifted a pair of boots she’d known her cousin had been wanting. When Anna was finally done gushing over them, Emma began to open her gift.

“So… who will I be thanking for this…” She’d gotten the rest of the paper off and the lid to the box open when her words fell away as she looked over the myriad of items within.

“It’s a, uh...” Killian cleared his throat and pawed at the patch of skin behind his ear as he went on to explain. “It’s a sort of… winter stake-out care package, I guess is what you’d call it.”

Emma began lifting the items out of the box as Killian described them and the thought process behind his selecting each one.

“I’d noticed earlier this month when we all got together for that holiday festival that you needed a new beanie,” he said as she slipped the hunter green beanie onto her head and then pulled out a pair of soft gloves. “Now, I know you don’t tend to wear gloves on a stake-out because they get in the way of you taking photos or making notes on your phone, but with these you can slip the individual fingertips off so your hands can stay warm while you still have use of your finger pads.”

Emma tested them out whilst he explained their function, loving the ease with which she could quickly bare her thumbs and fingertips. They would certainly come in handy, as would the next item.

“A portable electric kettle,” Killian informed the group when more than one of them had murmured an inquiry about the item in question. “You just add water and plug it into the cigarette lighter in your vehicle and it’ll boil in less than 90 seconds. It also serves as a thermos once you’ve heated the water.” Killian lifted his chin in a pointed gesture and added, “There’s some hot cocoa packets and instant coffee in there as well.”

“This is…” Emma began, somewhat at a loss of what to say.

“Do you like it?”

Emma’s eyes jumped to Killian’s which were filled with a hesitant anticipation; his brows furrowed as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I do,” she answered, smiling softly at him. “This was all so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Swan,” he replied, a bright smile adorning his lips as he let out a heavy breath of relief.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary Margaret elbow David in the ribs. No doubt it was an attempt to keep whatever snide comment he had at the ready about her occupation from falling out of his mouth. Emma knew her brother did not approve of her line of work. In truth, most of them didn’t. The only one who never gave her a hard time about it, who never questioned her abilities or capability, who only ever asked about it out of genuine curiosity and interest, and without an ulterior motive to somehow diminish her success or exaggerate the dangers, was Killian.

Emma tried to focus on the remaining gifts being opened by the rest of their group, but her mind kept circling back to her own. The way Killian had noticed the state of her beanie and how he inherently knew and understood the reason why she tended to not wear gloves, despite her having the opposite reaction to the cold from her cousin.

The cold did bother her. It always had.

The contrast of her and Elsa’s response to it had always been a source of amusement within their circle. As evidenced by David’s gift to Elsa and past comments made regarding the issue. It struck Emma, in that moment, that Killian had never taken her objection to the cold lightly. From the beginning, he had always made sure she was comfortable. Warm. Content.

Like last night. Like many times before. Like with his gift. Making sure she’d be warm and comfortable during the long, wintery nights whilst on a stake-out. The way he’d made sure she was warm that night. The night in the Caribbean when a cool ocean breeze had met her damp skin - sweat soaked from dancing in a crush of people - and she’d shivered, her slip of a dress, which left little to the imagination, unable to combat the chill as goosebumps erupted over her entire body.

She could still feel the soft fabric of Killian’s jacket around her shoulders, the warmth it transferred from his body to hers, his scent lingering on the collar and intoxicating her sinuses in the same way the rum had infused their blood. The memory of the heat of his hand, pressing against the small of her back as he walked her to her cabin made Emma shift in her seat, as did the whisper of his hot breath against her neck when she recalled the words he’d murmured into her ear.

“I’ll keep you warm, love. Just say the word and I’ll make you burn until morning. It would be both our pleasure, I swear it.”

He had been good to his word.

So, so good.

“Who's ready for breakfast?”

Mary Margaret’s inquiry, which signaled the end of the gift giving portion of the day, shook Emma from her thoughts. Her highly inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts that had caused her cheeks to grow hot and blush pink; a fact she hoped no one had noticed.

“You look a bit flushed, Swan,” Killian commented on their way to the dining room - much to Emma’s mortification. “I guess my gifts are doing their job.”

Unable to meet his eye, Emma swiped the new beanie off her head and peeled the gloves off her hands. “Yep. I’m nice and toasty now. Thanks.”

“Anytime, love,” he replied in a deep, quiet timbre. Was she imagining the mixture of promise and longing in his words? Was he merely being his usual cheeky self, or was he reminding her of all the ways they could produce heat together… and his willingness to explore them with her?

“Who needs a refill?” Elsa offered, holding up the bottle of champagne and the pitcher of orange juice.

“Me!” Emma responded, hurrying towards the island with her champagne flute and receiving the first of many, many refills she’d imbibe that day.

~/~

This was a bad idea. No, it was a great idea, but it was also, potentially, a very, very bad idea.

It had been Anna’s idea. Which wasn’t the reason it was a bad one. It was actually a really good one. After a long day of cooking and drinking and eating and games and drinking and cleaning and drinking, her cousin had suggested they end the evening with a soak in the hot tub.

Which was a terrific idea, except… wearing nothing but her bikini, in a hot tub, with Killian Jones, also in his swimsuit, with his hair curling from the steam and water droplets clinging to his chest hair and pooling in the hollow of his throat while she - and the rest of them - continued to polish off the bottles of champagne that never seemed to end was a very, very bad idea.

But when had a bad idea ever stopped her before?

Especially when said bad idea had actually crossed her mind days before when she’d packed her bag. More specifically, the tiny, red, string bikini she’d worn during their cruise vacation. But no, she absolutely did not choose to pack this particular bikini because she remembered the look on Killian’s face and the hunger in his eyes when he saw her in it the first time on the pool deck. The same hunger that was threatening to devour her from a darkened, forget-me-not gaze across the hot tub.

Okay, maybe she did pack this particular bikini on purpose with this particular scenario in mind.

The idea wasn’t the only thing that was bad. Emma was also being bad. Very, very bad. And she wanted to do bad things. Very, very bad things with the man she found herself alone in the hot tub with after all their family and friends had decided to turn in about an hour after they’d first all got in.

“D’you wanna stay inna bit longer or turn in,” Killian asked with a heavy tongue from all the alcohol he’d consumed over the course of the day.

The same amount that was currently coursing through her veins and causing her to want to act on her very, very bad ideas.

“Prolly should turn in,” she replied in an equally tipsy tone. “M’ry Marget wants to head out early for after Kissmas shopping.”

Another loathsome tradition, but one Emma complied with for her sister-in-law’s sake. She wasn’t much for bargain hunting, but she knew what the bonding time together meant to the woman who had married into a sisterhood (despite Elsa and Anna actually being Emma’s cousins) after being an only child all her life and an orphan for the greater part of it.

“Right then,” Killian said, standing from where he’d been lounging in the corner and offering her a hand up. “We should get you to bed, love.”

Taking his hand, Emma stood, then immediately lost her footing and fell into his wet, firm chest. His arms circled her waist, his inebriation making him a bit clumsy and the slickness of their skin causing one of his hands to inadvertently land a bit too low. Palming her ass cheek may have been an accident, but the way his grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he prompted her hips forward was not.

Nor was the way she responded, bringing herself flush against him as their lips, teeth and tongues met with fervor. He groaned into her mouth when she raked her nails down his back, then reached up and wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck.

“I want you,” he breathed, the much needed air secondary to the words he seemed desperate to convey.

“I want you, too,” she told him before suddenly finding herself in his arms, being carried out of the hot tub and into the cabin. After setting her down by the dying embers of the fire, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around her.

“I’m gonna shut off the hot tub and close things up,” he informed her. “Wait for me in our room?”

Emma nodded, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she headed for the stairs. Glancing back over her shoulder, she giggled at the way he hurriedly - and drunkenly - took care of the tasks so he could follow after her. He didn’t keep her waiting long. No sooner had she finished drying off - still clad in her bikini, so not completely dry - and taking her hair down from the high bun she’d pulled it into so it would stay out of the water, than he came through the door like a man on a mission.

His mission, it seemed, was to pick up where they’d left off. In less than a second she was back in his arms, their hands indulging in the vast expanse of exposed skin while their mouths fought to devour the other.

“You’ve no idea what seeing you in this bikini does to me,” he growled against her lips, his fingers toying with the knotted strings tied at her back.

Reaching between them, Emma cupped his hardness through the thin, damp fabric of his trunks and hummed into his mouth before murmuring, “Actually, I think I do.”

“We’re drunk,” he stated, pulling back slightly while his hands gripped her hip and grazed her back.

“W’are,” she slurred, flicking her gaze up to his. “Your point?”

“We were drunk last time, too,” he reminded her, sloppily. “I’ve always regretted that.”

“Regretted it?”

“Not what we did,” he clarified, his fingers brushing up her side, over the back of her shoulder, then back down her arm. “I regret I wasn’t in complete control of my faculties when I took you. That the details of you, naked and quivering beneath me, are hazy in my memory because of the alcohol clouding them.”

Emma cupped his length harder, pulling a grunt from the depths of his chest and causing his eyes to slip shut as his lips parted in pleasure. “Will that regret keep you from taking me again?” she asked, kneading the underside of his balls with her fingertips. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she gripped his earlobe between her teeth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that interrupted the moans vibrating up his throat. “Will that regret keep you from allowing me the pleasure of being taken?”

Killian jerked his head away, her teeth scraping against the lobe of his ear. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes dark and piercing despite the alcohol hooding his gaze.

“Absolutey the fuck not,” he declared in a tone that curled her toes and nearly made her knees give out.

With a series of sharp tugs, he undid the knots that had kept her bikini top secured, then tore the flimsy piece of fabric from her breasts so his mouth and hands could replace it. Clutching his head to her chest, Emma gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist when he managed to lift her, one handed, so he could carry her to the bed. He probably would have deposited her on the mattress with more finesse had he been sober, but Emma wasn’t complaining, not when he sank to his knees at the end of it and began divesting her of her bikini bottoms with his teeth.

She wasn’t sure whether she said them out loud, but the last coherent words to flow through her consciousness before his tongue began its assault on her sex were, we really ought to do this sober at some point.

~/~

“Got our to-go coffees!”

Emma groaned, her head resting against her arms which were crossed on top of the table they’d just finished having breakfast on. If you could call a slice of dry toast breakfast, that is.

She really shouldn’t have drank so much the day before.

She hated to think how much worse her hangover would be if, after their… relations, Killian hadn’t insisted they both take an aspirin and chase it with a large glass of water before crashing.

Yet another thing to be grateful to Killian Jones for.

And he had given her many, many things to be grateful for last night.

Of course, she’d given him her fair share as well.

Not that she should be thinking about any of that now, especially when thinking in general was causing her head to pound.

“Here,” Elsa said, prompting Emma to sit up and take the to-go cup being offered to her. “I slipped a little hair of the dog in it for you.”

Emma glanced down to where Elsa was brandishing the flask she had tucked away in her purse, a very Jones-esque smirk pulling at her lips.

“Your brother-in-law is a bad influence,” Emma chortled, then winced at the way the action made her stomach gurgle.

Elsa laughed and stood, prompting the rest of the table to follow. The four women made their way out of the diner and towards the shops that were just beginning to open for the after Christmas sales. Emma took a large gulp of her doctored coffee, willing it to sustain her these next few hours. She was gonna need all the help she could get.

“Emma,” Elsa said quietly, as they milled around the third - or was it the fourth - shop of the day.

When Emma glanced over at her, Elsa tilted her head towards the corner, indicating a more private place to chat, and Emma, curious, followed her cousin.

“What’s up?” Emma asked, noting the discomfort and hesitation Elsa was struggling with.

“It’s just…” Elsa began, tentatively. “I know you were joking before, when you said Killian was a bad influence, but…”

“But?”

Elsa’s cool blue eyes locked onto Emma’s. She knew that look. It was the same look David would give her when he was about to go all I’m-telling-you-this-for-your-own-good, trust-me-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about, slightly insufferable, older brother on her.

“He isn’t a bad guy.”

Stunned, Emma blanched and assured, “I know that.”

“I mean,” Elsa continued. “I know David thinks he has a reputation of being a ladies’ man, and has written him off as a ‘bad boy’, but Killian isn’t actually like that.”

“Okay,” Emma drawled, suddenly very uncomfortable with where this conversation might be going. “Why are you tell--”

“Because… He talks about you all the time,” Elsa told her. There was something in her tone that alerted Emma to the fact that her words might be considered a betrayal, but she’d decided to place her loyalties with her cousin rather than her brother-in-law. “He asks about you when it’s been awhile since we’ve all gotten together. I really… I really think he has a thing for you, and I wouldn’t want any misconceptions to get in the way of you possibly--”

“Elsa, stop.”

Emma couldn’t listen to anything more her cousin had to say. It was too much. Too much to hope that this… whatever it was between her and Killian, was more than some ‘dalliance’. More than an itch he felt the need to scratch or some challenge he wanted to conquer.

More than just another notch on his bedpost.

“Look,” she said, her tone not quite as snappy as it had been. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t have to defend Killian to me. I know he’s a decent guy, and I…” Emma wasn’t sure what else to say without giving away her feelings, something she was barely ready to do with herself, and nowhere near ready to admit to anyone else.

“Right,” Elsa said, letting Emma off the hook. “Well, I’m glad we got that sorted. I just… Now that Liam and I are married, the Jones brothers are a permanent fixture in our lives and I--”

“I know,” Emma interjected, wishing to end the awkward conversation. “I get it.”

“Do you?” Elsa asked, stepping a bit closer. “Emma, Killian isn’t going anywhere. I know you keep your guard up because you’re afraid of being wrong about him, but… give him a chance? I really think he just might surprise you. In the best way.”

Elsa’s words lingered in Emma’s mind for the rest of the day, as did nearly every interaction she’d ever had with Killian over the past several years. If what Elsa had said was true, that Killian had genuine feelings for her, then why hadn’t he ever made a move?

Granted, in the early years of Elsa and Liam’s relationship, he only came around a couple of times, but he had been a solid member of their group for at least the past two. Yet, he’d never given her any indication of being serious about her. Sure, he flirted and made suggestive comments and did outrageous things with his eyebrows and tongue, but he did that with everyone, right? Even David and Kristoff.

He didn’t have their preferred drink at the ready when they inevitably showed up late, though. Nor did he buy them thoughtful gifts that affirmed and supported their chosen profession. He also did not gravitate towards the rest of them like he did her. And she to him.

He didn’t look at any of them the way he looked at her. In fact… She could not recall a single time they’d been together when she’d seen him look at another woman that way. Not even on the cruise when there had been no shortage of beautiful women in revealing, eye-catching outfits. Not even when those women had come onto him, slipping their room numbers, phone numbers, and who knows what else into his pocket.

Surely, given the fact that he was gorgeous and charming and sexy as hell - don’t get her started on the accent - and had women throwing themselves at him, he had no trouble keeping his date book full and his bed warm. It’s not like he’d been pining after her all this time.

Right?

~/~

The ladies got back to the cabin later than they’d planned. Initially, the group was going to make do with the leftovers for dinner, cleaning out the fridge and making sure nothing went to waste before checking out the next day. However, the shopping and bonding and girl-time had led to them informing the guys that they’d be dining out instead and to not wait up.

Emma - despite the internal turmoil and lingering questions her conversation with Elsa had left her with - had actually enjoyed the day with her cousins and sister-in-law. So much so that it might have been her idea to ditch leftovers with the gents and treat themselves to a lovely meal at the bistro they’d walked by several times during their shopping ventures through the town.

Was a small part of that suggestion due to the fact she wasn’t ready to face Killian?

Yup. Absolutely. 100%

There was no putting it off any longer, though. Despite their insistence that the men should not wait up for them, they had. Because, of course they had.

After a brief recap of the day and a run down of what would need to be done in the morning before they checked out of the cabin, the group dispersed, heading to their respective rooms and turning in for the night. Emma glanced at Killian, whom she’d been avoiding making eye contact with, and could see the same uncertain, hesitant, bracing-for-what-may-come-next demeanor she knew she’d walked into the cabin with.

Making her way into their room, she noted how he’d made the bed and picked up their discarded suits that had still littered the floor when she’d left early that morning. She swallowed heavily at the memory of her quickly quieting her alarm and getting ready - queasy and heavy-headed - as silently and stealthily as possible as not to wake him and force an interaction. What had it been like for him to wake up alone? Had he been plagued by thoughts and memories and questions all day like she had? Eager to see her and discover what it all meant whilst also willing to allow the hours to drag on and avoid having to face a reality that may not meet hopeful expectations?

The door softly snicked closed, the air growing heavy and charged as tense anticipation palpated throughout the room.

“Swan,” Killian began, his voice gentle but resolved as he hovered by the door, giving her as much space as he could within the privacy of their room. “I know talking about last night is probably the last thing you wish to do, but I really think, given that it’s happened twice now, that we really ought to dis--”

“You’re right,” she agreed, cutting him off. “I think we need to talk about it.”

Killian balked. That was clearly not the response he’d been prepared to receive from her. “You do?”

“Yeah,” she said, wetting her lips and shuffling her feet against the carpet, her gaze turned downward as she slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I’ve, uh… I've been thinking about it all day. I mean…” she paused, her eyes closing briefly at how that statement could be misconstrued, even if the presumption wouldn’t be completely off base. “I’ve been thinking about us all day.”

“Me, too,” he replied with understanding, no hint of teasing or suggestive provocation in his tone.

Emma lifted her gaze and met his eyes. He was looking at her as one would a cornered animal, cautious and careful of making any sudden movement that might frighten the creature away.

“Actually,” she continued, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as she gathered the courage to make her next confession. “I’ve been thinking about us since that night on the ship.”

“Aye,” he breathed out on little more than a whisper. “Me, too.”

With her hands still tucked away in her pockets, she dipped her gaze down to her feet once more and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

It took her a moment to get over her own.

“The other night,” she began, haltingly. “When you implied that you didn’t share your bed often enough to develop a preference on which side of the… I know it’s none of my business, but…”

“But?”

Flicking her gaze to his once more, she took a breath and asked, “How often is not often enough?”

Killian reached up and scratched behind his ear; a usually endearing tell of his, but one that had her stomach churning at that moment.

“I, uh… actually…” He cleared his throat and cast his gaze aside, though he did throw a furtive glance her way as he answered, “This past year I’ve only shared my bed with one person.”

“Oh,” Emma replied, her heart sinking a bit. “Can I ask who?”

Killian’s head snapped back towards her, a look of amused confusion on his face. His expression softened and he closed the space between them, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw as he said, “Don’t you know, Emma… It’s you.”

“What?” she exhaled, stupidly. “What do you mean… me?”

“I haven’t been with another woman since last Christmas when you kissed me beneath the mistletoe.”

Emma knew her mouth was hanging open. She knew she must have looked - in his words - absolutely gobsmacked. “B-But that was…” she stuttered, recalling the moment he was referring to. “That was just a silly, little peck on the lips because Elsa had hung it over the bar station and caught us standing there. It was hardly even a kiss.”

“Perhaps not to you,” he said with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “But it was to me.”

Dropping his hand he took a small step back and Emma instantly regretted making it seem as though the kiss hadn’t been a big deal. In truth, she’d had to convince herself for months afterward that it wasn’t.

“But it wasn’t just the kiss,” he continued. “It’s what the kiss exposed.”

Emma felt her breath hitch at the way he was looking at her now: vulnerable, unguarded, and - to use the word he’d just uttered - thoroughly exposed.

“Which was?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a longing took over in his forget-me-not depths. “That you’re it for me, Swan. I…” Boldly, he approached her again, his words and expression leaving no room for doubt as to his sincerity. “There’s no one else. I don’t want anyone else. You’re the one I want.”

“Why… Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, the sound of her heart thundering in her ears, her chest rising and falling a bit too rapidly.

He cocked his head to one side, an uncomfortable expression taking hold of his features as he reminded her, “At the time, you were with that Walsh bloke, and despite my dislike of the fellow, it seemed bad form to make heartfelt declarations whilst you were in a relationship.” Running a hand through his hair, he exhaled heavily and added, “When it did, thankfully, end, although his timing was rubbish, leaving you high and dry on Valentine’s Day, you seemed a bit… put off by the idea of, well, all men.”

“Right,” she said, her cheeks flushing hot at the reminder. “My rant at the pub about how all men are bastards and how I was vowing to live a celibate life from then on.”

“Aye,” he chuckled. “Didn’t seem like the right time to suggest we start… anything.”

“So,” she said, understanding why he’d taken a step back. “You gave me some space.”

“I thought it best to give it time. Let you heal. Remind yourself that, though the wanker had broken your heart, at least that meant it still worked.”

“And then,” she said, prompting him to continue. “The cruise.”

“Aye, the cruise,” he parroted, swallowing hard. “Liam and Elsa’s wedding, both of us in the wedding party, spending all that time together, flirting, connecting. I thought… I thought, perhaps, it was finally my chance. Our chance. We had that amazing night together. Not just the sex, but everything else that had led up to it. And then…”

“And then, I metaphorically ran for the hills the next morning.”

Killian dropped his head, his shoulders tense as he drew in a deep breath. “I was afraid that I may have taken advantage of--”

“No, Killian,” she said, cupping his cheek and urging him to look at her. “We went over that the next day. You didn’t take advantage of me. At least, not anymore than I took of you. That wasn’t why I--”

��I know, love,” he murmured. “I know you weren’t ready. You were still getting over--”

“No, I wasn’t,” she told him. “I got over Walsh a long time ago, I just…”

“What?” he asked, his eyes flicking between hers. “You just what, Swan?”

A contrite expression pulled at her brows and she dropped her hand to his chest as she confessed, “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost. I didn’t want to be some conquest.”

“Oh, Emma,” he whispered, gathering her in his arms. “You are not some conquest. Not to me.”

He held her for several beats of their hearts, his face nuzzling the top of her head. “Ever since that night, I have waffled between the desire to respect your wishes, and the urge to fight for what I want.” Pulling back, he gazed down at her and professed, “I’m done waffling. I want you, Emma. I want to be with you. I want to pursue you, and woo you, and court you in all the ways you ought to be.” Bringing his hand up, he caressed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers and murmured, “But only if you want that as well. Whatever we become is as much up to you as it is to me.”

“That all sounds good to me,” she said, pulling a deep chuckle from his chest, and they both smiled at one another, basking in the joy of the moment.

A joy that transitioned as they stood there, lightly caressing the other, breathing the other in, and gazing into each other’s eyes. Eyes that were darkening and becoming more hooded and intense as the atmosphere began to electrify around them.

When their lips met, it wasn’t in the chaotic and frenzied way they had in the instances before. There was no less passion, no less heat, but the desperation in this kiss was for closeness, intimacy, and not because either of them thought this might be the only time they’d ever get a chance to experience the other in this way.

After a long, thorough, languid exploration of her mouth, Killian’s moved to her jaw, the space below her ear, then down her neck. Emma’s fingers carded through his hair as his tongue mapped the slope of her shoulder, his hand gently pulling at the collar of her shirt to expose a greater path.

“I agree,” he murmured into her skin, his lips applying soft kisses and gentle, sucking pressure to her pulse points as they traveled back up her neck.

“With what?” Emma panted, torn between wanting to bask in this unhurried moment of enjoyment and her eagerness to move things along so they could get to the really good stuff.

“With what you said last night,” he reminded her, pulling his face away from her neck so he could stare down at her with a smoldering gaze of desire. “We really ought to do it sober sometime, and I see no better time than now. Do you?”

“Uh, yeah. No. I mean…” Emma silently cursed herself for sounding like an idiot. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, then began lifting it as she replied, “I think so, too.”

Killian raised his arms, allowing her to peel the shirt from his body. His breath visibly hitched beneath her touch as she ran her fingers down the front of his chest; the muscles in his lower abdomen jumping when they reached the top of his jeans where his body hair began to taper into a happy trail. She could feel the heat of his gaze as she loosened his belt, heard the soft gasp that fell from his lips when she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and the groan he let out when she slipped her hand past his boxer briefs to wrap around his hardening, hot, velvety length sent a shiver of wonder down her spine.

“I think,” she whispered in a sultry tone, flicking up her gaze up from beneath her lashes to meet his; her words causing them to open after her actions had clearly made them fall shut in pleasure. “I’ll be the one doing the taking this time.”

A shudder ran through him and his gaze darkened. “As you wish,” he murmured, his timbre low and gravelly and making her want to do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Her hand still wrapped around his cock, she guided him to the edge of the bed and prompted him to sit on the edge as she sank down onto her knees.

“Lie back,” she instructed while working to free him from his jeans and underwear.

“As my lady commands,” he replied, collapsing back onto the mattress, though his head remained lifted so he could watch.

After divesting him of his remaining garments, Emma pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She delighted in the way his body jumped and quivered beneath her touch; her teasing caresses and taunting kisses applied to all the areas except where he’d want them most. Pained pants puffed from his chest and soft whimpers collected in the back of his throat. The cords of his neck strained whenever his head fell back, his eyes following the motion, his lips parted and sticking at the corners whenever his teeth weren’t burying themselves into their soft flesh. When she finally turned her attention to his neglected manhood, his hips jerked off the bed from the feel of her tongue running the length of his cock.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, his hands balling up the comforter in a white-knuckeled grip.

“Shhhh,” she admonished. “Don’t make me gag you like you had to with me last night.”

The reminder forced a half-growl, half-groan from his chest, but it fully transformed into a moan of pleasurable relief when she took him fully into her mouth.

“Gods above, Swan,” he croaked after several minutes of her working him over, trying to keep his voice down. Trying… and failing. “Fuck!”

With a soft pop, Emma released him and stood.

“Apologies, love,” he whispered in a desperate tone. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions of stopping,” she assured him. “But you clearly need help staying quiet.”

If he had a retort to her statement, it must have been forgotten when she lifted her shirt over her head and then removed her bra. Killian’s tongue slowly dragged across his lips, his eyes intently focused on her as she shimmied out of her own jeans and panties. Her black lace panties that matched her bra; a set, like her swimsuit, she had intentionally packed with him in mind.

Black lace panties that she picked up off the floor and let hang off her index finger as she made her way up onto the bed, mounting him dramatically and straddling his hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and keep quiet, or…”

She swung her panties once around her finger. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes trained on the black fabric until it came to a rest, crooked on her finger once more, before they met hers. Emma could see the gears turning in his mind, trying to decide which he’d prefer.

After a deliciously taut moment, he said, “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, leaning down so her lips could hover over his. “Good choice.”

She laid her panties on the pillow next to his head as they kissed - just in case. Killian groaned when his tongue ran alongside hers and Emma knew it was because he could taste the brine of his precum still lingering there. When she finally broke off the kiss so she could sit back and position herself over his length, he followed. They both broke the promise of being quiet when he slipped inside her, filling her, stretching her, molding her to him as though they were only ever meant to fit one another.

Rolling her hips, Emma began to move as Killian held her. Murmurs, grunts, staccatoed breaths, sweet nothings, curses, praises, all filled the space between them as their bodies rolled, their hips swiveled, their lips collided, their eyes connected, and their pleasure mounted.

Whenever Emma would arch her back, Killian latched onto her breasts, lavishing them with his tongue and applying sweet torture with his teeth. Torture that reverberated down to her clit, causing it to throb and ache until she couldn’t take it any longer. Pushing Killian back down onto the mattress, she ground down hard against him in an attempt to alleviate the torment. When she felt the damp press of his thumb against her she nearly cried out before remembering herself.

“That’s it, love,” he encouraged, vigorously applying just the right amount of pressure and rhythm to her clit as he shifted beneath her so he could continue to thrust up into her warm, slick center. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. So soft. So wet.” His words became breathier and more strained, his exertions unrelenting as his thumb and cock competed to bring her to completion. “Come for me,” he pleaded, though there was a tone of command that grew more prominent as he repeated them.

“Come for me, love. I want you to come. Need you to come. Come for me, Emma. Oh, Emma. Emma, Emma, My Emma. Come!”

And come, she did.

Hard.

Showing her no mercy, Killian kept pounding into her, his ministrations at her clit sending wave after wave of ecstasy and bone-numbing pleasure through her, making it impossible for her to stay upright. Collapsing against him, she felt his rhythm falter for a few brief seconds when he brought up his knees, giving him the necessary leverage to chase after her into the euphoric abyss she was still tumbling down. The sounds of his desperation panted and grunted and moaned in her ear, until his breath hitched and guttural groanings, deeper than words, reverberated through his chest and stuttered over his lips like his hips did against hers.

Emma wasn’t sure how long they laid there, sated and spent and unbearably content as their bodies cooled and their breaths evened out.

“Do you need to move?” Killian asked, his legs stretching back out as his arms kept her held firmly against him.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled into the side of his neck. “But I probably ought to.”

During their post-coital cuddling, he’d already begun to soften and slip from her, but the emptiness she felt when he fully left her had them both quickly moving through their aftercare routines so they could be back in the other’s arms, nestled beneath the covers, as quickly as possible.

“Does it all still sound good to you, love?” Killian questioned between the soft kisses he was applying to the back of her shoulder.

“The wooing and pursuing and courting, you mean?” she clarified, sleepily.

“Aye.”

“Mmmm, you bet.”

~/~

“Well, I think that’s everything,” Liam said, tying a knot on the last of the trash bags that needed to be taken out. “Elsa is going over the check-out list one last time, but I think we’ve taken care of everything.”

“I don’t see why we even bothered,” David groused. “It’s not like the owner kept up his end of things.”

“And Elsa will make sure her review reflects that,” Liam assured him.

Emma and Killian exchanged amused glances with one another. Other than the heat going out that one night - which Kristoff had managed to fix the next day - she and Killian had been the only ones truly ‘inconvenienced’ by the misleading information in the cabin’s listing.

An inconvenience she was tempted to leave a five star review for.

Sleeps ten, her ass… and her eternal gratitude.

The End

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[ciaosonounapersonalol]

Guess who gat some shiny redesingsss >:33

Also explanations cuz yes

N1) Mammon (they/them)

Ironically they're the one with the less jewelry out of the bunch, mainly because i wanted to convey their power and wealth with a "royal" style more than just decking them put in chains and gems was never gonna draw anyways, so instead it's a lot of fabric on fabric to create a fancy look

N2) Sol and Luna (She/Her for both)

Ngl i was tempted to put Luna's design under a cut since it's so revealing 😅 sorry

Btw both for Luna and Mammon those aren't actual tits it's chest fluff (you know Angel Dust from Hazbin Hotel? Yeah that kind of stuff)

For Sol i got rid of the veil, somehow the most complicate part of the design, amd distributed the gold accent around her body instead of just one big thing on her chest (also breast reduction surgery because she's a bug) also she is a blue monarch butterly (no blue but whatever she'd have blue wings if she wasn't a godess)

Both of them have "belly button" piercings to cover their lack of one since they hatced from an egg, the uncanny valley is real and i made it so that the wings only have desings on the back part because my lazy ass was NOT gonna draw all that stuff everytime

Again, Luna's design is so revealing but i think it fits her role and we are on tumblr so who cares

The round fur was so cute but the neck part felt like too munch for such a small area, also moths apparently don't have fluff on their paws? Idk the reference i had (small emperor moth) didn't so yeah

The flames on the top and the wings are there because her eldrich form inclued a lot of fire (one of the few simbols/references i have in my desings smh)

N3) Deva (She/Her)

Yes she is based off of pirates and no one can stop me from that

Apparently most jellyfishes have this weird ruffly thing coming out their bodies so there's that, also pants for comfort and the tentacles are in some sort of ponytail to, you guessed it, not draw them! Listen if im gonna draw these desings over and over they may atleast not be a total hell to draw

I don't have an exact name for the jellyfihs tipe but she is half nurse shark!

I had the idea to add some traditional indian jewellery but i couldn't find anything that either fit her aestethic or looked somewhat decent on her :')

And uder the cut we have the og ones!

So, yay or nay?

[ygoartreviews]

Cupsie★Yummy Way

I must say, even though the design is literally the same as in the original Cupsie artwork, I like how it looks here so much better. The more forward facing position makes the fake chocolate eyes look infinitely cuter, which is only enhanced by the little paw pads it has on its outstretched limbs. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that it looks like an itty bitty baby kitty in Snatchy’s paws. What’s also great is the poor little melon Yummy that escaped from Snatchy’s grasp and is falling head first, making its topping headpiece fall off and revealing its actual sweet little face underneath. This one even has its little claws out! This card has what I think is my favorite depiction of Snatchy, if only because it’s the only card where the colorful bands on its arms look as they were intended: like the “fingers” of a claw from a claw machine (these aren’t visible at all in their original card). Another fun detail (pointed out to me) is the previously downward facing arrows all now point up (they’re present in all three of the Yummy synchro monsters), signally that Snatchy’s caught a Yummy and is now ascending with them.

Rating: 10/10

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

.batcrow feat. the owl.

or a situation, which is stuck somewhere between existential threat an’ scuffle between barn animals.

...

(it’s one of those underdeveloped, raw-ish concepts that i indulge in just for funzies. it all started very simply. i was thinking about what kind of person might make bruce jealous. the topic was kinda challenging, considering that bruce in the comics *at least in the ones, i read* or even btas is rarely express this emotion if at all. in fact, at one point, he literally said to the woman, who he supposedly was in love with, that she should stay with the other man, who also liked her, bc he needed her more *he got disfigured an' such* an’ she was like ‘wtf is wrong with you. to paw me to the other man like that’, clearly outraged. but bruce didn’t seem to fully grasp what her issue was lol.

still, what if he somehow got jealous of another man, when it comes to crane, anyways? and who that man could possibly be? my first thought was superman, bc bruce generally can be kinda petty, when it comes to him. but clark is such a puppy-like character. he wouldn’t have been mean about it, or even be someone who could potentially like jon in such a manner. at worst, bruce might have got annoyed at crane *not clark*, if he said smth about superman’s strong arms in front of him. some jealousy there, but not quite what i was looking for, when pondering on that set up.

an' then, i recalled the owlman! i only know the version of him from the cartoon, an’ honestly after seeing glimpses of what they do with him in comics, i’d say this is the only owlman for me. from the crisis on 2 earths ‘toon. gotta admire a character, who is SO nihilistic an’ SO sure in his own worldview, that he literally does nothing an’ dies, just bc it doesn’t matter to him. he even smiles a bit, if i remember correctly. kinda both chillin’ an’ sad. the owlman had an ego, but he also just kinda….wanted everything to die an’ that’s it. he is what might have happened, if bruce went full blown doctor strangelove, after his parents death. which is funny, bc owlman isn’t bruce wayne at all, but he is the one who ‘takes’ his place in his own universe. i don’t remember if it was ever revealed in the cartoon, who the owlman was or if they left it ambiguous. i'm pretty sure, that they made him bruce’s brother in the comics, specifically. but i might be wrong, bc there was a few owlman in batman's ran, i think...?

either way, this version here is devoid of backstory. the main thing for him is that there was never a bruce wayne in his universe, an’ coincidently enough, no jonathan crane, either. as result, owlman knows nothing about scarecrow. he had analogs of other batman’s rogue gallery, who were either heroes or anti-heroes, but he never had professor of fear of his own. an' that’s part of the reason why he gets slightly curious about him. at the begining, it's very casual on his part. i guess, he might have wondered why it's those two *jon an' bruce* specifically, who never existed in his reality. everybody else, clearly did. so he looks a bit closer into it, still mostly for the sport. only to find out about strange relationships that crane has with the bat.

the owlman is an isolated kind of character. he doesn’t care for his own teammates. nor he's able to reciprocate their affection. i mean, he didn’t really react to the villain version of wonder woman kissing him. he was surprised, sure, but not hurrying to return the gesture or even seemingly knowing what to do about this situation. which led me to believe, that at least in the frames of that toon’s worldbuilding, he had no alt alfred or robin or anyone, who he was close with. kinda an opposite of batman, who does to a degree surrenders himself with people, even if he keeps them at *emotional* distance, more often than not. but the point is, that bruce still wants a connections an’ not devoid of hope to see the things sorta/kinda working up. in comparison, owlman is as nihilistic as a person can get, so it makes zero sense for him to have close ties with anyone. or even see it smth that he needs. but i imagine that witnessing how batman acts with his enemies, jon esp, be a very confusing experience for him. like, why pity such a person? why even show some small signs of kinship with him? an' what’s so different about this one, if anything at all? 

so after some more pondering, he approaches crane just to see for himself, if he is worth all that effort *sympathy* or not. an’ hey, scarecrow is kinda fun. reactive an’ jerky, an’ surprisingly aggressive for such a coward. owlman's usual enemies are the good guys. they're heroic an' noble. but jonathan isn’t that. not even close. his worldview is bitter an' twisted. whatever wrongs were done to him, didn't mold him into a hero like with any other owlman's enemy. the scarecrow is a villain to the boot an' it's...new. his use of fear is interesting too. none of his enemies had this gimmick. this makes the owlman wanna play around with him for a bit longer. or owlman experience unknown emotions for the first time in years an’ kinda not fully certain what to do about it, other than indulge in it. his end goal still the same. it won’t change for/or bc of anything, but he can have a small distraction, before the curtains call. it's not everyday, when he can find a person, who is kinda interesting to him, even if bc of pure novelity that he can hang out with a man, who had never existed in his own timeline.

then, he learns about the scarecrow’s life. how it went downhill or rather, how it was sorta doomed from the start almost. an’ oh. here it is. that’s what batman feels too, isn't it? that silver of kinship. the owlman never had this before. an’ it’s not a bad feeling, either. he was never able to relate to the others. it’s like ‘everything sucks so much. everything just sucks forever’ an’ he has found someone who understands the meaning of this sentiment, an' not just being an emo about life. at least, the owl would assume that jon understand it in the exact same way he does *but jon doesn’t lol* 

meanwhile, bruce is concerned. owlman is a very bad, bad kind of man to have around crane for many different reasons. one of which is that it doesn't sound like a hard thing to convince someone like crane, that destroying everything is the only 'right' way to go about things. jonathan's life is generally was an' still is awful, so why not end it all, but with a huge, literal bang?

it’s like a nihilistic doom an’ gloomy buddy club. sounds hella corky, but in reality, it’s dark stuff, actually. jon be beyond depressed in this case. him getting all buddy-buddy with people, who are more unhinged an’ dangerous than him isn’t a new thing. but in this case, it’s like an extra salt on batman’s open wound. the bat himself states in comics at least twice, how crane is one of those villains, who don’t just stay the same, but who progressively gets more an’ more insane an’ deranged each time he breaks out of arkham. him hanging out with the person, whose worldview is basically ‘it would have been so much better, if we all were dead’ an' who literally an' genunily means this, isn’t smth that is good for jonathan's *already declined* mental health. esp if owlman is also rather problematic in other ways too. not to meantion, that him dragging crane along is also kinda personal. in this way, he might be showing bruce, that no matter how much he wants his rogues to change or how much good will he shows them, they're all just human, therefore they're all hopeless an' bad. bc all humas are bad in owlman's understanding. it's like 'aw, you want to believe that this one isn't a lost cause? what if i will make him help me to murder everybody? still think he worthy of your delusions?' owlman might have an end goal, but he's also arrogant an' petty too.

on main, i have two rough-ish concepts for their uhhh, trio shippy thing. in PG-ish version, it’s just that owlman influencing jon in an awful ways, an’ since he kinda/sorta resembles batman, crane subconsciously rely on him, bc he's somewhat familiar. besides, the owl hints that his own life was bad too, an’ it’s like finally someone gets on the same level of despair as crane does. an' also, maybe...this what could have been, if the bat was a villain too. they could have been on the same team. so in a way, it's kinda more of jonathan playing into this weird fantasy of himself an' bad batman, than him fully understanding the real level of 'oof' that owlman tries to acomplish with 'the plan'.

*funny enough tho, where it really counts, jon isn’t like owlman. he, for one isn’t someone who would just give up. after every fail an’ each kick an’ shove, he still gets up. the thing about jonathan is that he wouldn’t just lie down an’ die no matter how much pain an' humilation an' despair, he felt. an’ he also wouldn’t *in the end* commit to the idea of murdering countless people just bc his life sucked. even if, it doesn’t mean, that he won’t go through motions an’ nearly, truly consider going along with it. he isn’t alright in the head, an’ his negative emotions tend to get the best of him. still, i feel like most versions of jonathan would in the end, decide that no, it's not what he wants or ready to take responsibility for.*

it all would resolve in comic book fashion, where jon would help the bat in the end, an’ not that other man, who had his allure an’ had almost seduced crane into doing one last evil act any human being in existence could have ever done. still, there always be longing on scarecrow’s part for this odd, wrong ‘batman’, even if he sticks with his own, regardless. 

*an’ yeah, the bat is kinda jealous throughout all of this lol. the world can be hanging by a thread, but no one said, that he cannot be a tad possessive, while he’s saving it *an’ crane* too. owlman will have fun with this knowledge, while it will go completely over jonathan’s head. mister ‘i can pin-point everyone’s fear from one conversation’ would have a really hard time understanding that batman’s beef with the owl not strictly hero vs villain thing*

then, in more mature version, it's kinda the same-ish plot, but owlman prob would do way more messed up things, which might put crane into a position, where he’s afraid to not comply, but also not actually willing to do it. an’ naturally, there bruce won’t be jealous, more so angry. really struggling with idea, if he should let just this one man *or an owl, whichever rings more true* die. an’ then, if this is a reflection of him, what kind of person, he really is. so it’s more of moral dilemma an’ a character study of a nihilistic sociopath, who just might have wanted to have a lil chew-toy, as he prepares his biggest scheme.

anyways, it’s not like an otp3 or anything. i’m a very bond/pair oriented fella. so when i’m dabbing into 3 way dynamics, it usually has more situational/reactive undertones. but i won't deny, that it’s fun to think about 'what if' or even about some situation in the void, where the bat an’ the owl double teame the crow. which in any plot-included or a somewhat coherent narrative just wouldn’t have happened bc of how all 3 of them function / react to things. it just not in their character to do it this...randomly. but if i will ever make a superhero pwp ficlet collection, i might try to do smth with this idea.)

[teshadraws]

y'know, a little while back i'd realized we'd never seen team evergreen's auras, and i started wondering about their colors. and i guess a finger on the monkey's paw curled because that was one HELL of a way to find out one of them. great chapter! and also ouch!

Have an aura reveal! As a treat! With no catch whatsoever! :D

(And thank you!!! Glad you enjoyed it.)

[ziploc849]

My thoughts/theories after episode 80 (I’ve watched up to 82 by now, but started writing this right after finishing 80)

I’m still on the track of phobias. I told a friend who’s also into this show about it and they point blank asked if I had been spoiled for anything (nothing more specific than that though) so I have a feeling I’m on the right track lol.

And then the concept of The Entities is revealed. Even though we weren’t specifically told about their deals I think I can make some assumptions. Welcome to another wall of text

First off, The Eye or Beholder. 2 names that have the same vibe but to me gives more context than just one or the other. Something that watches, yeah, but also takes in and learns. To behold something is to do more than just look at it, it’s to process it and commit it to memory. A fear of being watched is common, and we see is episodes like The Observer Affect, and I know characters have mentioned feeling watched, and from episode 82 I assume there’s also a sort of “burdened with knowledge” effect to it cause wtf Elias. I have other thoughts but I’ll put those with my thoughts from the actual episodes

Second off, The Distortion, or The Spiral. This is definitely the entity we have a name for thus far that we’ve seen the most of. Michael is a creepy little fucker and he’s bad at pretending to be a human. I’m assuming the fear it’s related to is maybe a fear of going insane, loosing your mental faculties. Strange, disturbing hallucinations, doors leading to endless hallways that don’t make sense, l hell Michael himself physically looks normal, but appears strange and horribly wrong if you look at it from the right angle. There could be something else there, but,

The Vast. Mentioned first from where I can see in Literary Heights (maybe sooner but I can’t remember). Michael Crew mentioned it when he was in that sort of standoff with the lightning monster. The Vast and some of Michael’s stuff feels like it’s similar in terms on endlessness, but I think The Vast is also related to the fear of heights we’ve seen a lot of. Obviously what happened in Freefall, but also the woodcut of the endless sky with the lightning in Pageturner, everything that happened in A Long Way Down. Not just vast in endlessness, but in the specific fear of drops and heights and the feeling you get looking at the stars and realizing many of them are already dead by the time the light reaches your eyes.

The End is another we’ve heard mentioned, with Mary Keay saying she got her skin book from it, or that that’s where it came from, what it’s tied to. Considering the book has to do with killing and the name itself is wager this is related to a fear of death and dying, which could relate to episodes like The Piper, Cheating Death, and Burial Rites. Specifically these all seem to have themes of people who should be dead, but clearly aren’t somehow. I don’t have much more idea about this, other than the fact that it’s probably a monkeys paw kind of situation. “You’re so afraid of death you don’t want to die? Okay, you won’t die then. See how you like it.”

The Stranger has been mentioned a couple of times, Leitner mentioned the files Elias stole were on The Stranger, and it seems to be related to whatever the Unknowing is. I still can’t quite tell if that’s another entity, or an event/end goal some of the entities are trying to cause/reach. Anyways, I’m not entirely sure what the stranger could be since we haven’t seen much of them explicitly, but from what I’d have to guess by the name alone it’s the sort of uncanny valley effect. The Not-Them completely taking a persons place in reality, leaving only one person to know that it is nothing like the person it killed. Students with far too specific and strange questions about the body, shaping their bones and adjusting their organs to match the real ones. Hell even in Anglerfish all the way back to episode one, a man who simply asks for a cigarette in the same, monotonous tone, never moving to take it, simply waiting for their prey to come. Body horror and people a bit (or pretty far) to the left.

Then there’s other phobias we’ve seen that I don’t know if we have a name for. The Hive might be to do with a fear of bugs, but there’s also been so much discussion of spiders and disease that they could be lumped into one, or simply have a lot of overlap. If they are separate then disease is for sure one of them. Claustrophobia is another we’ve seen a lot of, but I’m wondering if that could be related to The Vast in a sort of equals and opposites way? Things that are so large and ongoing they’re unknowable and spaces that are so small they bend reality and threaten to suffocate.

There are still some things that don’t seem to fit these for me, but I’m sure as time goes on there will be more entities or at least more explanation of the things we’ve already seen in the context of them. The coffin in Do Not Open, everything with the video in Binary. Dreamer is one I’m thinking about, I feel like it could be related to the eye simply in terms of knowing that people are going to die, and especially with the strange veins wrapped around Gertrude, but also could be related to The End cause. Yknow. Death.

I’m also not entirely sure about the fire stuff and the meat stuff, that’s still throwing me for a loop. I know trying to fit everything into nice neat boxes probably won’t help, these are eldritch beings after all, but I am curious to see what all fits into the “caused by an entity” column and what falls into the “caused by a cult *related* to the entity” column and what falls into the “secret third thing” column lol. I’m also curious if everything is related to specific phobias or just. Causing fear? And phobias are a very, very good way to do that, cause that would also help to fit a few more things into “caused by entities” column. Like wasn’t there a fucking werewolf at one point???? Anyways.

[agenttrout]

Panda

A bit of a favorite child, Panda the Oniwing elder and her adopted children Aten (Yellow one) and Troth (Green one). What stories does she have to tell? Only time will tell (If I ever put my head on paper).

I wrote a little bit of a story but may redo it in the future once my planing skills inprove. Seen below: (Warning for Death and other classic wof warnings also lots of misspelling)

Podologue

    Like usual, Panda was starving looking for a meal. The search seemed endless and every passing second the grass looked taster. Even smelled taster from her constant sniffing around trying to catch a riff of something good. The moons shared at her, mockingly at her toils, perhaps that is why she decided to walk in the shade of the woods. The mud stuck stubbornly to her paws as she walked past the moist grass and leaves. Just as she thought this cursed night was another night where she go to bed hungry and hurting, she smelled something beyond the earth, finally. 

    It was the smell of rotting sickness, ‘an easy meal’, Panda thought. Yes she was that deprestate that she rather gamble her life just to feel full for the night. She stuck over to what appears to be the entrance of a cave and shared at it for what felt like an hour, even in her current state she knew that this could be a trap. Nothing came in, or out during that time and the smell was just too appetizing to the point she was drooling she just had to pace on it. The sight though would have made most of dragon recoil. It was another one of her kin near death's door, nothing more than a skeleton barely breathing. ‘Nothing I can do’ she thought, trying to erase the guilt she felt at looking at the poor dragon’s fear ridden eyes who knew what she was about to do. Or at least would have done if she didn’t notice that the dragon was trying to protect something. Panda would later wonder if she should have never asked what it was.

    Peeling back the dying dragon revealed two frail puffballs. Panda froze as memories flashed across her eyes. ‘Nonononononononono, I wasn’t about too….’ her head spireled, tears filling her eyes. She went to reach out to touch them, but the drying dragon weakly grabbed her paw trying to stop her, trying to protect. Panda whispered, “don’t worry I won’t, trust me” and in that moment a promise flashed in the two dragons eyes, from one parent to another. That was when the poor parent faded away. Panda didn’t have the words, but she knew what she had to do. 

    She buried the parent so their body would return to the earth and soul to the stars. ‘Guess I'm going hungry tonight, but it was necessary…’ Panda thought looking down at what was now her dragonets.

A year later….

Chapter 1:

‘The sun leaving was as beautiful as ever’, Panda thought. She was watching a group of Steel Scales get ready for bed as her two little ones fought. The bright yellow one, Aten shouted, “I TOO CAN BEAT UP A STEEL SCALE”! The moss green one, Troth, wimped “there is no way, you will get crushed by one of their tails”. “OH YOU WORRYWORT! I just move really REALLY really fast”! “Your legs are short”. “ARE NOT”! “Are TOO”! “FINE I WILL PROVE IT” Aten finished off, but before she could bound off, Panda put her wings around her children to bring them in. “Settle down you two. Your going make the Steel Scales aware of are location and that means no dinner tonight” Panda stated calmly in an attempt to settle them down. “Yeah TROTH!” Aten gibed, putting her paw on Troth’s mouth. Panda signed, “Why don’t I tell you a story to pass the time”? Aten nodded with great energy, while Troth grumbled at his sister’s paw preventing him from answering.

    Panda looked up and pointed at where the stars were starting to reveal themselves, “Look there, now what do you think they are”? Aten answered confidently, “They are weird Starflies, of course”!  Troth finally freed his muzzle from his sister's grabs and said proudly, “Didn’t you say the stars were our past ancestors and how Starflies allow their souls to travel”. Panda chuckled, “that right, I did say that” “Hmmth…” Aten responds frustrated. Panda decided to mention, “Have I told you the story of the three Moons and the Sun” and both shooked no. Panda started the story, “Guess I will tell you then….

    There was once a time when all day round the blazing dragon filled the sky, its love provided life, but it was smothering it slowly at the same time. The land which was once bountiful was burned away unconsciously. The dragons of the earth, the Sun’s children, were starving, but most wanting the gifts of the Sun’s love said nothing. Days went by with nothing changing and the Sun’s most forgotten children suffered the worst. One day three dragons got tired of this cycle and stood near the throne of the Sun Dragon and spoked asking the Sun to rest for a while….” “So the Sun Listened and went to sleep?!” Aten interrupted. Panda looked saddened, ‘if only that was the case’ “no….Her favorite children accused them of being jealous, ignorant,  and trying to break Mother’s heart again. Who was she to listen to, the ones who stayed by her side or the ones who left her”? Her children looked up at her with sad eyes. Panda signed, “Want to continue this story another time?” Troth instantly answered, “no Mom, plz continue” and Aten answered too, “Continue continue, plz plz plz plz”!

    “Okay” Panda stated and continued, “In ignorance, the Sun listened to her favorite children and casted out the three” “UNFAIR” Aten shouted and Troth shh and Aten shh back. Panda got back to it, “The three now knew with the favorite children always surrounding her, to keep favor, would stop them from telling the truth so they needed to serepated them. They went to recruit the other forgotten children and rallied them together to distract the favorite children. The three reach the Sun dragon as the favorite children were busy fighting the rest. After some convincing they got the Sun dragon, who wanted her children to stop fighting, to follow them to the truth. She saw the wasteland her childrens’ home had become. She, prehabs from guilt, gave the three the power to balance her and so they became the three moons able to remind the Sun when to rest. The forgotten children became the first stars”. “Why are we still forgotten then…?” Aten spoked hushed. “What makes you say that?” Panda said pained. Troth looked unsure and Aten gloomed, “Why is getting food so hard…..”? This surprised Panda who thought they hadn't noticed and she truly didn’t know how to answer. 

    “It's because there's a land full of endless food really, really far away, waiting for us to find it!”, Panda lied through her teeth. Her children licked their teeth and wagged their tails. “REALLY, WHERE!” both squeaked in unison, eyes full of hope. “Well, that's why we are traveling to find it!”, Panda said, hastily digging herself ever deeper. ‘Not like a place like that exists’ Panda thought, but how can she say that to them?

(Fun Fact: The Sun Dragon’s gender and pronouns change based off who is telling the story, it is only a she here because Panda is a mother herself, so is biased.)

Chapter 2:    The Moons came and the sun fully left, it was time to go. Panda woke her children from their nap and they made their way down near the Steel Scale camp, where the shadows will cover them. Of course there was a guard on watch, but it was only one due to this being a smaller group, ‘still no reason to stroll in’ Panda finished the thought. She had to use her paw as a gate to prevent Aten from strolling in though and Troth was basically hugging her tail. The moment she was waiting for, the guard moved to the other side of the camp with a yawn, after what was probably an hour. “Time to go in, stay low to the ground, like this”, She whispered to her children and went into a sneaking position. Her children nodded and followed suit. They went into camp, Panda hoping they would learn from her how to prevent the grainy sand from crunching around their paws. Crunch crunch crunch crunch…Panda would take that as a no.

(This is where it ends, incomplete for who knows)

[otakween]

Digimon Next (2005) - Volume 2

Another volume finished of this easy-breezy read. It's extremely unmemorable, but not as bad as the manga adapting anime series at least. You can really sense the audience whenever they make a poop joke (which is often). I wonder if there are any Digimon manga out there with a teen audience in mind? (Or adult, I guess, but that seems unlikely).

Ch. 7

So far only Agumon has his adult/champion digivolution. Wonder how long it will take for Ami and Yuu's digimon to improve? (Not that it will be that exciting to see the Gaomon evolution line again lol)

I like the idea of collecting the digitama of your enemies and raising them to be good digimon. Have they done that concept in the games yet? You kinda can do that in Digimon Story but it's not digitama but scanned data, which is different.

Ch. 8

This manga is very "battle of the week" (but battle of the chapter I guess). I guess that's most of digimon, but I wish they'd play with the format more.

Sunflowmon was HUGE in this chapter! I'm not really sure if they drew them bigger than in the anime because they were kinda always flying around in the anime so it was hard to gauge.

Gaomon looked really cute all mummified, he also went full doggy-mode at one point (four legs on the ground looks really funny when the front paws are boxing gloves lol).

Ami was acting really patronizing to Yuu about his disability. I'm not sure if it was supposed to come off that way or not, but he seemed uncomfortable with being babied. It's interesting that he doesn't really want to be a big hero, he just wants to stay in the digital world because his condition doesn't exist there. (It would be interesting to see a human just settle down and live in the digital world. I guess that would be like Ikuto or Masaru but they seemed pretty nomadic).

Ch. 9

Wowwww, they literally just copied an episode from Digimon Adventure here with Meramon being controlled by a dark gear black digicore and burning everything up. Can we please get some originality in this manga? -_-

Yuu's digisoul activates so that Gaomon can digivolve, but it's unstable so the digivolution is incomplete. Not sure if that's been done yet. It didn't really affect the battle at all so 🤷‍♀️

You're telling me that Tsurugi was a pro digimon battler with his vpet yet he doesn't know that you don't fight a fire digimon with fire?? So dumb🤦‍♀️

"Eyebrow dog" was pretty funny, ngl

Ch. 10

Whoever did the scanlation of this manga romanized Norn as "Norun" which has me very confused because that's not a name lol. The digimon wikis made me realize it's "Norn" which makes a lot more sense (can't help but be reminded of Creatures)

I wanted to laugh when they revealed Norn's character design. The over the top gothic lolita look looks pretty tacky nowadays, but I ate that shit up in middle school. You know I'd be doodling her in my notebooks lol.

Is Norn supposed to be Shou's sister? I swear this is giving me MAJOR V-Tamer deja vu again

Apparently everyone has known each other for a long time? I feel like I did not get that impression for Yuu because Ami was like explaining his heart condition to Tsurugi. I guess she was just reminding him.

Shou's kinda reminding me of Ken in his Digimon Emperor era. At least he's nice to his digimon though. It's an interesting choice to give the rival/villain character a bird digimon. Those are usually given to side characters.

Ch. 11

A lot of stereotypical things happened this chapter that kinda made me roll my eyes. The kids getting lured into a seemingly nice inn that's obviously a trap is something we've seen many times in this franchise. Ami being jealous when Angewomon gets flirty with Tsurugi (and has a bigger chest than her) also felt like super generic anime writing. I guess Ami is going to be paired with Tsurugi then (because her only character trait is "girl.")

The way Ami's mother's death was abruptly mentioned via flashback was so clunky. They should have maybe given that plot point at least a whole fleshed out chapter or something cuz it felt super shoehorned in.

I feel like Yuu jumped super quickly from not wanting to fight to wanting to be a master tamer basically. His bond with Trailmon felt kind of forced as well. I feel like his role in the story is to make Tsurugi seem cooler (because he looks up to him).

Gaomon getting jealous of Trailmon was kinda cute. The digimon art continues to be really nice and expressive.

Omg the inn keeper Tailmon were so cute <3 (even though they were evil lol). I want to see more digimon in the service/hospitality industry just doing mundane stuff lol. Where's my slice-of-life series? (I've been watching Pokemon Concierge recently)

Ami being tricked into bathing in motor oil was kinda fucked up...

Ch. 12

A very Trailmon-centric chapter. Thomas the Tank Engine vibes lol. Fave panels were GeoGreymon sitting on top of Trailmon and Trailmon revealing his battle form (a little boy's dream haha)

The more futuristic Trailmon that the Commandments are using is interesting. Instead of its face being at the head/nose of the train it's kind of at the feet, with its mouth "eating" the tracks. That seems like an awkward existence...

I know it's not the same, but the "Light City" reminds me of Sunshine City in the Digimon Story game I'm playing now. They called it the "City of Beginnings" though which I find weird. That's usually reserved for the place where digimon are born, but in this case it just seems like the place where humans are isekai'd lol.

There's an explanation of the Digimon alphabet at the end of this chapter which I cannot be bothered to learn. It would be cool to print out a cheat sheet though. I wonder how consistent it is across the different series? 🤔 I really appreciate that they committed to an actual language instead of gibberish (although it's kinda just fantasy Japanese I guess)

[bropunzeling]

oh mannn inspired by your last ask, we all knows the oilers!matthew takes, but your thoughts on Florida!leon?

the thing is........ a future fic where through the twists and turns of fate leon somehow ends up in florida....... it could be so TASTY. it very much folds into a future fic concept ive been pawing at (and have probably talked about before but guess what and you'll hear it again dot gif):

so. for a while there, they were having sex. a lot of it. the kind of sex you can have with someone whose opinion won't change about you, or so you think -- mean, with an edge. sex that sometimes rode the line of too much, too intense. sex that, as it kept happening, kept creeping closer and closer to exposing a part of leon he wasn't sure he wanted to reveal. and yet he kept doing it. and yet, two years in, he was uncomfortably aware of all the shit he'd do and let matthew do to him.

then: a very messy not actually a break up around the trade (maybe matthew didn't tell leon he was going to leave because, like, it's not like they're together together. maybe it wasn't until matthew left that leon figured out how close to together he thought they were). and of course losing the cup final would only make leon dislike and resent matthew more (made worse by the flicker of softness he can't bring himself to blow out). the point is by summer 2024 leon is pretty sure he hates matthew's guts. would be happy to never see him again.

shenanigans. tomfoolery. leon gets traded somewhere? a couple seasons in the wilderness. the point is it's been a few years -- more than a few -- when he winds up in florida as he tries to chase down a cup. back in matthew's orbit again.

it's brutal, and weird, because it's like -- it's like matthew's managed to move all the way on (which makes sense. he left, after all. he won.) and leon would like to think he has, but quickly realizes that he hasn’t. he doesn't appreciate matthew treating him with such impersonal amiability. he doesn't like when matthew invites him to stuff. he doesn't like the way barkov looks at him sometimes, like he’s in on a secret. he doesn’t like how often he keeps catching himself staring at matthew, wondering if matthew remembers how it used to be. if matthew can still make it so he doesn't have to think anymore.

of course they're going to fall into bed together. and fuck -- it's not how it used to be. it's better -- worse -- it's matthew being careful with leon in a way he never used to, back when they were young, back when leon told himself all that mattered about what they did was if he could still come out on top on the ice. leon wants it to hurt and it does but not the way he remembers it.

even so, he wants to do it again. brings it up the next morning, poking at the bruises on his torso, rumpled and creased in matthew's sheets.

matthew blinks. swallows. says, hoarsely, i don't think we should do this again.

(bc matthew wants to make sure leon can get his cup but leon takes it all the wrong way and they have some horrible cathartic fights before working their way towards something they can build on but also don't worry they'll still have highly undernegotiated weird sex and maybe leon cries!!!)

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 16 "mind's eye" thoughts

are we sat for some REAL scully and mulder time?? some classic case action?? will mulder eat sunflower seeds and scully do an autopsy?? we must begin to find out.

(well, i found out. and i diagnose this episode with lacking in scully)

this episode really didn’t do anything for me, which is often the case when scully does not feature prominently. it’s like, if she’s not going to be on the screen, why are we here? to just watch a bunch of random other stuff? absolutely not. this is the mulder AND scully show. frankly, they’re more like two halves of a whole than separate people. unless the writers have cooked up a specific and intentional solo episode, focusing just on mulder rarely works! 

mulder, you are my special boy, but it is also clear that you are the writer’s special boy, and that does kinda piss me off, because i believe that being a special boy is a gender neutral activity

anyway.

we begin in delaware, where someone, later revealed to be named marty, is walking up some stairs. she lights a cigarette on the stove (which seems dangerous) and then receives some spooky visions of a man being stabbed. which is not great. 

the cops find the stabbed guy in a motel with marty hiding behind the curtain!! she’s covered in blood. and blind. they make a big point of this.

is this gonna be like, diversity win! the killer is blind! or did she start to sit down for a smoke in front of the TV and then get teleported to the scene? 

scully tells us that the deceased, named little monster (put your paws up!) is a drug dealer that used children in his dealings. wow. he sounds like an awful guy. do not disgrace the little monster name.

(just now, as i edit my notes, realizing how funny it is we get scully saying “little monster”… scully lady gaga fan confirmed?! she bent time and space to stream disease)

mulder points out he has the same pair of pants as the dead drug dealer. classic mulder.

marty glenn was found at the scene of the crime. she has been blind since birth and has an extensive rap sheet. how could she bleed a man out with surgical precision, you ask? idk, maybe she’s just that good

LMAOOO this guy who is here from the case, detective pennock, is convinced marty has a sixth sense, which i am sure mulder is not used to hearing. he must have been relieved.

bahaha when they come to visit her, marty clarifies that it’s not magic that lets her know it’s detective pennock, it’s his trash cologne. read him for filth.

she asks who is with him, though. when mulder introduces himself she asks “and the lady?” so she is very perceptive. or perhaps she can see things in other ways…? supernaturally?

ohhh, she asks mulder what he’s staring at and he says “an innocent woman… i hope” now what is afoot here…

(i should have known. mulder and that Need to save people who often don’t even want his help)

scully is asking her questions. ohh, marty’s a real firecracker. marty yells out to “stinky”, the detective, who is watching through a one way mirror!! she says she fed the murder weapon to her seeing eye dog. so marty’s got jokes, i see.

mulder is intentionally provoking her, trying to point out that she was doing an awful job cleaning up at the murder site, and clearly she couldn’t have done the whole killing thing, because she is BLIND, so why don’t you just tell us who did it so we can go out and get ‘em?

will this provoke her into revealing her hand?

she slaps his cup of water away and tells him to go to hell! so i guess this did not have its intended effect 

mulder thinks she’s honed all her senses around her blindness, and that she is trying to project an image of confidence. but he doesn’t think that she killed the little monster, even if she won’t explain herself and somehow knew there was only one stab wound. ohhh, do you think she’s covering for some kid that the drug dealer worked with going in there and taking care of business on their own??

(damn. would have been cool if that was what happened. kids killing drug dealers is so rarely a plot point in media. together we can change this)

scully is going to the crime scene with detective pennock while mulder is staying behind to “investigate something”. nooo, don’t separate! you’ll make me sad :(

(the agents separating either leads to soul-crushing angst or an incredibly boring episode)

marty’s taking a polygraph, but she wants to skip the baseline questions and get to the good stuff. and while i do not believe in polygraphs, i can imagine that if they DID do anything of use, skipping the calibration stage would be a bad idea. she denies all involvement with the murder. hmmm. it seems she’s lying about having no reason to know little monster, though.

mulder writes “did you see the murder?” on a piece of legal paper (i like his handwriting!) and shows it to the man operating the test, who reacts like he’s pulling some sick joke. but marty says “why don’t you just ask me yourself?”. and again the polygraph machine says she is lying when she says no!!!

mulder calls to share this news and LMAOOOO thank god scully said what i have been thinking for 5 seasons now: “would you like me to remind you why polygraphs are inadmissible in court?” <- truly a woman of science and reason!! my beloved scully!!

ohhhhh, she tells mulder to give her a call when he figures it out… and then finds bloody gloves tucked into the place where you put used shaving blades at the crime scene!

(having a special place where you put used shaving blades is absolutely CRAZY, btw. i feel like that is just asking for a disaster. but i guess that leaving them in the trash would do the same thing! oh, a glimpse into a world i was glad to not be around for…)

marty is seeing more terrifying visions of a woman in a bar in great danger!!! she’s calling out for a phone. she calls and tells some bartender about a guy hitting on a redhead at the end of the bar!!! and he’s right there!!!! the woman is able to escape because she tells him to leave her alone!!! and that she’s watching him!!!

damn… does she know this guy??

they are giving her the gloves found in the razor slot, saying her prints are already all over them!!

mulder points out she hasn’t applied for any benefits, which leads scully to wonder if she is lying about being blind! hmm…

i also love “okay, so by your reasoning, the killer took off with the murder weapon but not the gloves, leaving marty to come in, go straight to the gloves and hide them in the one place that nobody would easily think to find them” (he nods) “i think that’s the most accurate scenario available to us right now”

-said while looking deeply into scully’s eyes… yeah <3 king of facts and logic /s

the guy who was hitting on the woman at the bar is trying to sell little monster’s drugs!!!

now they’re testing marty to learn if she is really blind, and while the answer is yes, her pupils dilate at one point, when she happens to be seeing the visions. mulder goes in to ask what she sees, but is interrupted by detective pennock!! the DA is saying he won’t try her without a murder weapon, and to let her go. 

she’s checking out and mulder watches her go. scully says there are two kinds of blood on the gloves, and she’s sending them to the lab!!! shoutout to the lab. an unsung hero.

meanwhile, the murderer is assaulting the redhead, and marty sees the visions. she yells that she needs to get to spring street and then walks into traffic trying to get there!!! a man guides her there. shoutout to that guy for real because she was going to get hit by a car. 

she’s trying to find anything on spring street, and she finds the poor woman’s body in the dumpster!! and now her prints are all over her body!!

marty comes back to the police office to say she killed them both with the blood on her hands!!

does she think this will make the visions stop??

time to deploy mulder. he lights her cigarette, and says he likes and admire her. he thinks she tried to stop the murders, but didn’t get there in time. and she needs to help them stop him before he- whoever he is- kills again. he says he won’t let her plead guilty!! oh, mulder’s need to save everybody……

the murderer is on the phone, and the person who was going to buy drugs from him says he won’t do it; someone is clearly gunning for him, and he does not want to get involved. some old girlfriend called him to warn against dealing with him?!? the killer is trying to convince phone man to go through with the deal, but he is getting mad. 

mulder is going over the files, when detective pennock walks in saying she signed the confession. claiming to have killed them for drugs, and she even knows where to find them! she leads them to the murderer’s drugs!

mulder doesn’t buy it at all.

“you are one skeptical guy, agent mulder!” <- LMAO he was shocked by that. been called a lot of things in his life, but not skeptical lmaooo

scully’s calling! neither of the blood types on the glove match marty’s!!! she didn’t do it!!!

the dealer guy just watched them take the drugs… 

mulder’s back. you can’t get away from him. he sits next to marty in her cell. he says he knows who she’s protecting!! “you’re protecting the man who murdered your mother” <- HUH???

she died from a single stab wound to the right kidney!! just like the others!!!

but she never met her mother?? somehow she was pregnant with marty when it happened but died?? and they were able to save marty?? how is that possible?? you know what! i’m not going to worry about it.

so the blood flow interruption caused her blindness… and maybe during that time she gained a connection between herself and the killer where she sees through his eyes. and that doesn’t make her responsible. her being in jail won’t accomplish anything. he tells her they’ll find him with or without her help. 

this is pretty crazy world building to just dump on us at this point

they take her somewhere else in cuffs, but she’s receiving another vision!!! one of herself!!! the killer must be near!!! he is!! he’s watching her get loaded into the car!!

off to a women’s detention center. where mulder is already there!!! she’s being released because she is no longer a suspect. 

they found the guy!!! charles!!! it was his blood on the glove!

OH SHIT HE’S HER FATHER??? that was their connection??? she’s crying upon hearing this :(

detective pennock will not pursue aiding and abetting charges IF she agrees to help them find the guy. ooooo… she agrees. on the condition that she will be protected until he is caught. 

wait, why is mulder talking into a walkie talkie hot? what the hell. don’t worry about that actually.

scully is here too, listening to this explanation. “well, if all this is true, let’s go get him” <- that’s the spirit!!! who cares if the spiritual nonsense is real, we have crime to solve!

but he doesn’t think the killer will be in there…

detective pennock is in marty’s room while she packs, saying she doesn’t need to bring everything. but she says it’s too late!! he’s already here!!

she knocks pennock out with a tea kettle and steals his gun!!! go get him!!

mulder and scully are rushing back to her place. the killer is here!! he is approaching her!!!

OHHH SHE STANDS UP!!! “i hate the way you see me” and BLAM!! shot right in the head!!!

pennock is locking her up, saying she did this one. they watch as she is walked away.

mulder comes to visit, offering his hand through the cell. she says all she sees now is the sea, near where her father slash the killer used to live. 

“well, you’re lucky he wasn’t a fan of the ice capades”, he says, once again referring to something i know nothing about.

(i looked it up and it’s a traveling ice skating show. why does bro hate the ice skaters so much! anyway, i threw wikipedia $15 for always being there for me like a best friend. and i still want to read an ice skating fic so you didn’t persuade me you’d look bad out on the rink, mulder)

okay, so final thoughts: while this was a semi-interesting episode with an attempt to pull on my heartstrings, and a noble one at that, there was barely any scully at all. and this is essential to my enjoyment of an episode.

also, the lore reveal that her mother was murdered and her dad was the killer, and in the process of somehow killing her mother but not her, they formed a psychic connection, was just too sudden for me. it felt weird and abrupt and like it wasn’t hinted to at all, and then it was supposed to make perfect sense. it did not. 

listen, every season has a few flop episodes, and maybe that’s what we’re dealing with here. so far though, i think s5 has had the highest bangers to flops ratio, which is to say that most of the episodes have been very good, so we are due a less interesting one here or there.

but you know what would make them more interesting? scully <3

anyway, as always, tell me what you think! was this episode also just meh for you, or did you love it? or hate it? know any fun facts? any interesting memories from when you watched it the first time? please do share!

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Same anon, just realized no one has also asked about the SwiftAdder tree either! Specifically reminded bc of Redtail and Spottedleaf being retconned in as theirs despite how much better it would’ve been if they were Rosetails… anyways that’s wishful thinking. But genetics for their family if it’s open?

Honestly these retroactive family reveals make the whole Spottedleaf's age situation so funny to me. Like obviously really this is just some continuity issue and in the first books they meant her to be much younger (and Redtail probably older) than she ended up being after the prequels, but now it reads like Graypaw and Firepaw has absolutely 0 talent in guessing other cats' ages (which is honestly very much in character for both lol)

So onto the family!

First we have Swiftbreeze's mother Flashnose (and her sister Daisytoe, whom i made full white), a dark ginger cat with white muzzle. We don't know their parents, and her the only known kit is Swiftbreeze.

Swiftbreeze herself is supposed to be a brown tabby with white paws, but as she has a red mother and a tortie daugher (even if we put Redtail aside for a moment), she really just gives herself to be tortoiseshell. So black tortoiseshell ticked tabby with white. Ticked because i want Graystripe to be ticked tabby via Willowpelt.

Adderfang is a "mottled, dark brown tabby", aka black blotched tabby.

Flashnose, Swiftbreeze, Adderfang

The first litter is Patchpelt and Leopardfoot. The former is easy, black with white, and the latter will be black, i'm sorry, i can't give her anything special. Black smoke would work probably, but there's just no place for the silver allele in the parents.

Leopardfoot, Patchpelt

Leopardfoot daughters are both torties here.

Then comes Spottedleaf and Redtail with Willowpelt.

Let's start with Redtail because I feel like i'll be disappointing: I headcanon him as a red tabby cat, with possibly a bit of somatic mutations that give him some black spots. He's called ginger sometimes, and i don't want to go overboard with chimeras and such. (I gave myself 1 tortie tomcat between all the named characters, and that's Sol.)

Spottedleaf. Now the thing is i've always imagined Spottedleaf as a tabby. Probably in part because when i read the hungarian translation, the translator apparently didn't know the word 'tortoiseshell' like why are you translating cat books then and she was consistently referred to as 'multicolored' or something, so she got fixed as "with as many colors as you can get" for me. Also she's repeatedly told to have brown in her coat. Also in my head spotted is a tabby pattern, not a tortie pattern. Anyway, all to say Spottedleaf is a black tortoiseshell spotted tabby with white to me.

Lastly, Willowpelt is a blue tabby point with white. (The white is for Sorreltail.) This is great, because it gives a "very pale" gray cat and "unusual blue eyes". (Well, not that unusual. In this time period, there are Frostfur and Longtail in the clan as points too, and maybe more that i can't remember now.)

Redtail, Spottedleaf, Willowpelt