#but still. gotta fern!!!!

[furox]

I feel like every sentence I say these days starts with, “once I can draw/use my hands again, I will—“

🤪

[brosif40]

huhhh

also some other creatures

YAY

[kanene-yaaay]

Sousou no Frieren- Tickle Headcanons

This anime has me in a chockehold and ain't letting me go so soon so I might as well share all the daydreams and thoughts living in my mind rent free since I watched it and decided that!!! Hey!!! I can add tickles to that!!!

Anyway, at first I was going to just write about Himmel and a few other selected characters from both adventures but GOSH suddenly all out of nowhere I start daydreaming about ALL OF THEM and so... This long post was born. kjhgfdfghjklkj not all of them are going to be very long and it can be OOC but I hope you still like to read it as much as I liked to write! <3

[~*~]

Himmel

(We are not going to talk about how much time I spent trying to choose just one gif) Our dear dead wife <3

He LOVES tickles and no one can convice me otherwise, I mean! Look at him! He definitely play that card at any moment he can

Cheering someone up? They say that laughter is the best medicine! Another boring day stuck in a cabin waiting for the snowstorm to go away? Nothing better than a tickle fight to make the time pass! Comforting a sad kid they just saved and are bringing to safety? Add a few wiggling fingers and watch that beautiful smile appear right way! Someone is literally just minding their own business doing nothing at all GET TICKLE ATTACKED!

He is a charming, playful, dramatic bastard and he knows it. He is using every and any opportunity to plentily tease the person, praising their laughter, pointing how lovely is their every reaction, gasping in false offense at any threat of revenge.

He will definitely laugh and snicker together with the person and sometimes let out honest comments that weren't supposed to be teasy but are like 'I didn't expect you to be so ticklish' or 'Wait, it tickles? Right here? That is so cute' and take the matters on his own hands to find at least one (1) new tickle spot when he tickles a friend because their surprised face right before descending in unstoppable giggling is way too priceless

Now, I need you to listen to this very very carefully: he can NOT take what he dishes out. at all.

So much squirming and trashing around. He can't control himself at all and won't even try to hold his laughter back, letting it ring loud and free, dying with any kind (literally, anything will do) of tease and pleading for his life as if he is being killed on the spot.

Somehow is totally blind to tickle traps. Sometimes just to mess with him Heiter would hold his cup up and ask for a toast and when Himmel complied he would latch on his ribs and rip my bro. he's dead on the floor. He never seems it coming even if they already done this a dozen time before.

Always crumbles with the tickles. A squeeze on his side and his legs transform in noodles immediately. That doesn't mean that he is a easy target though, if you decide to tickle him be prepared for some revenge

His main target and partner of tickle fights is Heiter, even though they manage to pull the rest of the party to their shenanigans sometimes too, even getting to listen to listen Eisen low, amused chuckles and Freiren tiny smile.

Talking about that. There is just one very specific occasion all his self preservations, squirms and defense disappear in the same second: when Frieren is involved.

Once, when both Heiter and Einsen decided to gang up on him, she decided to get into the fun with a few pokes and the VERY MOMENT Himmel realized that she was tickling him it was over.

He became a boneless mess of hysterical giggles on the floor not moving a single inch and taking all the tickling with no protests, completely lost in the fact that this was Frieren having fun, being silly and playful with them and his brain shortcurted and suddenly he became 1000000000000 more ticklish instantly.

Excuse me honor he is SMITTEN

If he is tickled for long enough or on a specially ticklish spot he lets out a loud, high pitched crackling that never fail to amuse his friends because he gets extremely red at that and tries to cover his face at any cost.

Besides that, he is not flustered at all about his liking to tickle and be tickled. It's a fun activity, a nice way to bond and it bring happiness to everyone! What is there to be embarrased about it?

Though other teases can destroy him rip

Is extremely and I say extremely gentle and caring when tickling Frieren. Soft scribbles, light scratching and steeping away not before too long has passed. Sometimes get lost in the happiness and joy of the moment but it's quick to come back to reality so that his tickling never lasts too long and he gets smiley about it for the rest of the day.

Gets grumpy about how he never manages to catch Einsen by surprise but immediately loses his pout when the warrior decides that he is not the one who started that war but he is the one who will finish it.

When he takes too long to decide a pose for their statue they start to attack him with plenty of pokes and squeezes until he finally makes up his mind.

Sometimes they just do that while he is posing to mess with him too. Especially because Himmel will try to pretend nothing is happening and attempt to keep his pose on the very beginning until he eventually breaks down in titters and protesting giggles.

It never lasts long. But he keeps trying

Has The Smirk.

Softest and most playful aftercare ever. With plenty of comfort and smiles.

Heiter

Our flawed priest <3

Do not have The Smirk but he has an entire aura about him that you can't really point what it is but suddenly there's ringing danger bells in your mind and on outside he looks normal, just taking a drink but then you blink and then BOOM he strikes

Can and will destroy someone with tickles with just one (1) hand because his other one is too busy carrying his cup

Gets stupidly silly when tickling someone. He will chuckle together with the person and use the goofiest nicknames, teases, tickle traps and everything else he can think of. It's the whole ordeal, really. He has no shame.

It's quite neutral but leaning to positive when it comes to tickling, but since Himmel is always dragging him into tickle fights he can't help but get a little bit of playful revenge. After a few years he started a couple of them by himself too.

Is horribly skilled with the nimblest and deadliest tickles ever.

Also. Changes from side to side of a tickle fight easy as water and will always help who offers him more drinks. So be careful when siding up with him to not get too close or comfortably into tickling range.

Somehow, incredibly lucky in finding tickle spots, be with random pokes to call the person's attention or some soft scribbling to hear some giggles and smile amused and content at them.

Also adept to cheer up or comforting tickles, creating a lot of fond memories with Fern in the nights she couldn't sleep and they both shared some good tea while watching the sky.

Will try to curl up in a ball when tickled and his only protest is to be careful with his glasses.

Not really very affected by teases. Says a lot of nonsense when is tickled tho

Frieren

HEEEEERRRRRRRR <3 <3 Our old lady

Has the tiniest, sweetest smile when tickling someone. it's adorable.

Do not engage in tickle fights but it's not against them. Usually would just stay in the background with Einsen while the other two got caught up in their giggly shenaningans

Her biggest moment was when she decided to show everyone this magic spell she learned some decades ago and then suddenly everyone is attacked by a bunch of wiggly, fluffy feathers that followed them no matter how much they squirmed or jumped.

Tickle spell tehee

They never got to know if she did that to mess with them or if she truly just wanted to show the spell.

Is more curious about tickling than anything. Thinks it's a nice way to make her friends laugh, but it's also very neutral about it, won't actively seek revenge or anything.

After years with both Himmel and Heiter, also lightly tickled Fern once or twice for the sake of cheering her up.

Ticklish ears ticklish ears ticklish ears ticklish ears-

The first time Himmel tickled her he immediately fell on the floor ded because it was too much cute.

(The way he looked at her that day is a fond memory for her, she doesn't quite know why, tho.)

Not really a squirmer and her laughter is mostly silence, full of small giggles and one or two hiccups. Like soft tickles the best, since it is not unbearable to feel and actively leaves her w a light, quite content feeling afterwards. She could take a tickle fight, tho.

Fern

<3 Somehow the most responsible adult in the party <3

Terrifying ler, can and will use your weakness against you.

Just as she does when fighting, thrives when her victim understimate her power and is quick and ruthless to bring them to their destruction.

Will tickle the person usually as a way to get them to do something (probably a chore they forgot) or admit something while having the most unimpressed face ever seen by humankind

She can be both incredibly merciless and very very kind, depends on her mood, the person and the context

Only like being tickled by someone she really trusts and not around another people so no one will her being silly like this.

Get very embarrassed just for thinking how childish tickling is, but treasures the soft moments with har friends and family, just like every other playful, fun, nice memory

When the person (let's be honest here, probably Spark) is too occupied laughing their heart out also let's out the tiniest, softest smile, pretty much like Frieren

Used tickles to cheer up Spark once and promised to do 10 times worse if he even THINKS about mentioning that to anyone

Snorts. SO much of them. If she is laughing they will automatically appear no matter how much she tried to hide them between her hands.

Her shoulders and head shake with giddy energy when is being tickled. It's everything <3

Einsen

*LOUD INTELLIGIBLE SCREAMING* AAAAAA

As I said on Himmel's part, not really one to start the tickle fight but a quick one to finish it.

Not really very ticklish and not very easy to be caught out of guard so rip his opponents, really

HOWEVER, he has one single incredibly and horribly ticklish spot right under his knee that he immediately DIES when it's tickled and it's an automatic win for the person, so the thing is of every fight is: will them be able to get him there before he gets them? That is the big question

Not really a teaser, prefers to tickle the person in silence while mapping the places that get the biggest reactions so he can focus there.

Could or could not have used this techinique with Spark to 'train his resistence' once (an excuse that his friends were very fond to use with him) but no one will ever know because if you ask him he will just stare at you and let out a single chuckle before going on about his day and Spark will Blush and Die before answering

Made mental bets and always knew the score by heart of Himmel x Heiter fights

Used to think it was a silly and pointless activity. But after their ten year adventure came to treasure and be fond of silly, pointless activities

Loud, booming laughter or no laughing at all. No in between.

Spark

DA BOI WHO DID NOT DESERVE THAT PAST AND NOW DESERVE ALL THE LAUGHTER EVER

Do not mind tickling at all!

It kind of reminds he of his brother, since when he was a kid he was the biggest tickle monster ever. Not only on those training tips he used to give even while being extremely busy, but he just loved to appear out of nowhere behind him, carry and put him on his shoulder and tickle him while walking back home, pretenidng he was carrying a bag of 'extremely wiggly vegetables!'

He also used pokes and prodding to help him with maintaining his form while wielding a sword. Even if extremely common, Spark still squeaked everytime he poked his armpit to remind him to not his arms so far away from his torso

Still, everytime he is tickled that boi just can't form ANY coherent sentence at all, no matter if he is full on belly laughter with just a few giggles, his mind immediately turn into a mushy mess

Won't go down without a fight. Running away, attacking back, squirming as his life depends on that. Most of the time squirming away from it only to dash in a sudden bolt of energy and then come back in a surprise tickle attack to get revenge.

Tried to get Fern back once for tickling and they ended up actually fighting but some days later she started a tickle fight so he ??? is just very confused??? if she actually hates it???

(But to see her loosing up, giggling, laughing out loud and being so full of playfulness and joy... wow)

He likes to throw a few playful teases here and there when he is tickling his friends, with plenty of snickers of his own and pointing out how ticklish the other person is or about their delight reactions.

!!Tickles games!!!

His entire face gets extremely red when his laughter begins to sound higher or crackly. Can NOT take any tease about that at all.

Sein

OUR EVEN MORE FLAWED PRIEST <3 <3 <3 Come back pls

THE MOST TICKLISH PERSON EVER

And his best, amazing, ruthless friend Gorilla was more than happy to remind him about it all the time

Until nowadays he can't really see fingers wiggling in his direction without immediately getting a wobbly smile and giggles instinctively creeping up on his throat

His brother also would tickle him when he was a kid and later would gladly snitch all the 'truly good, hidden tickle spots' to his friend much to his dismisse

Will trash, squirm, plea, beg and promise to do anything when tickled. Especially if we'retalking about light, soft tickles. Those make him go absolutely crazy out of his own mind

Even so, he doesn't mind it too much. Still, gets extremely embarrased and complains about how childish it is.

Def made AND lost bets again his friend and got tickled as a "payament". Also I can see them both having competitions to see who takes the longest to laugh, say uncle, keep their arms up and etc :D

Sometimes gives Spark a few tickles just to mess w him and snicker at the jumps he gives.

Spark got revenge so rip.

[blenselche]

Your fanfic has emotionally decimated me, idk how to be normal now. Will you make more "it"/grass demon Fern content? It's bestial behavior in contrast with it's formal speech made me smile like an idiot every time Fern's pronouns did a switcheroo from he to it. I was pleasantly surprised to find that picture you drew of it perched on Finn's head, I require 100 more please.

I'm running late for an appt but when I get back for sure I'll do something not so messy, and thank you!! I'm happy you liked it!

[watercolourferns]

It’s so bizarre that I don’t qualify as “poor” and therefore deserve no benefits because I have a smartphone and a roof over my head but me and my cats have been starving for a week because both our foods went up unexpectedly, the USD went down all January and we can’t pay for it.

[kurtbrussels]

will they make it through their 6th michigan winter???

stay tuned for more

using a low power seed starter heating pad this year instead of wrapping them up in wash clothes again so we will see how this fares

[eveningepiphany]

tease | H.S oneshot

summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing

a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!

———

Some days at work are harder than others for you.

Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.

And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.

But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.

It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.

“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.

Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.

You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.

“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”

Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.

“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.

“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.

You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.

“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”

“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”

And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.

He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.

As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.

Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…

His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.

Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.

You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”

Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”

You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.

You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.

“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.

“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.

“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.

She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.

You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.

“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”

She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”

You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”

You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.

“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.

In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.

You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.

Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.

He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.

You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.

Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.

You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.

Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.

You smile at yourself and at your work.

And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.

Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.

And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.

You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.

He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.

He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…

Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.

Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.

You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.

You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.

Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.

Just not aware you’re one of them…

Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.

After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.

Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.

The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.

It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?

Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.

You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.

Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.

You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?

He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.

“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.

He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.

“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.

So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.

“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.

Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.

You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”

You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.

He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.

You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.

You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?

“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.

“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.

“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.

Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.

You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.

“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.

He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.

“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”

“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.

“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.

“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.

You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.

You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”

“Very…?”

“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.

“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.

“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.

You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.

“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.

“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.

“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.

“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.

“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.

You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.

“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.

“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.

“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.

I didn’t work.

“So everyone including you?” He asked.

“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.

“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.

“Had you a little worked up, did I?”

“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.

“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.

“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.

Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.

“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”

He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.

“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.

“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.

“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”

Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.

“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”

“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”

He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.

“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”

“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.

He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”

“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.

“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.

Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.

You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.

“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.

He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.

He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.

“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.

His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.

“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.

He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.

He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”

You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.

“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.

You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”

He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.

“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”

You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.

He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”

“Too long.” You whimper.

His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.

You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.

“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”

“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.

You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole

He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.

Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.

“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.

“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”

“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.

Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.

“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.

“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.

He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.

The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.

Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.

“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.

He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.

He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”

It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.

He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.

It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.

He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.

Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.

You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”

“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.

“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.

It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.

You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.

You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.

All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.

That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.

His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.

“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”

You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.

And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.

His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.

“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.

“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”

“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.

“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”

You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.

“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.

“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.

And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.

———

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

[boy-comics]

XDINARY HEROES AS SOULMATE TROPES

── .✦ gunil;

first words to each other written on your skin

you've often wondered what situation would warrant the words stamped on your shoulder, and what kind of person would suit those words. they're innocuous enough, you suppose, and leagues better than a threat or something totally creepy; at worst they're just a little vain. your friends joke about it constantly, and when you start your new job at an athletic apparel store the teasing only increases tenfold. of course you would, they say. gotta up your chances.

the day it happens is—normal. you're on the upper floor, busy in the corner, and don't see him until he and his friend wander up to browse through the track jackets. he's trying on different colors in front of the mirror, testing the feel of them when they're zipped up, and doesn't seem to notice when his companion slips away for a moment.

you approach him to ask if he's finding everything okay. but before you can speak, he does, his gaze occupied with the zipper and his tone too warm and familiar and silly to be intended for you.

hey, does this make my biceps look sexy?

and even though you know these words, even though the reality of the order of them hits you until you're dizzy with surprise, you can't help it. you snort, and the man's head snaps up so quickly you'd think he heard a gunshot. he turns around quickly to apologize, laughing, and up close you see how his smile warms the corners of his eyes and makes his cheekbones pop. it's funny, you think as the two of you giggle in the middle of the store, he's funny, and you like funny people.

will you buy it if i say yes?

── .✦ jungsu;

marks left behind when you touch each other

it's easy to be enamored with how things feel—soft fur against your cheek, cold water over your feet, smooth paper underneath your hands. a tactile learner, a teacher once told you a long time ago. that is what you are; one who knows the world as it is beneath their hands, understanding by touching and being touched. and you want to understand everything.

this makes you brave, and it makes you reckless. it makes you climb a crumbling wall after a light rain to pick the prettiest pine cone you've ever laid your eyes on, and it is why you find yourself slipping and falling from a height that is perhaps larger than you'd like.

you know what concrete feels like against your back. it hurts. what stops you is not concrete, but something much more alive, and once you're steady on your feet again, you see that it is a boy with a shy smile and bashful cheeks. he asks if you are alright, and you say yes, because you are until you look down and see the sunshine-yellow fingermarks painting your arms where he had touched you.

oh. you stand and stare at the yellow, then at the fern green that covers the entirety of the boy's overturned palms and fingers. his cheeks flush even pinker, and you notice a faint smear of green on one, where the back of your head must have brushed it.

he makes no move to pull away when you take his hand, dragging your thumb along the back of it to see the color that blooms underneath. that evening, you go home with faint yellow hearts on your wrists, one step closer to understanding everything.

── .✦ gaon;

matching marks on your skin

it's in such an outspoken place—inked onto your right temple where everyone can see, two intersecting circles, one orange, one yellow. you wonder what it means. fortunetellers at fairs tell you it's good luck, representative of a strong and lasting bond, of a warm compatibility; your classmate in sociology tells you it means whatever you want it to mean. your boss at work still thinks it's a tattoo, though she hired you anyway so it must not be too bad for business.

you're told that he's your soulmate before you meet him. he's a friend of a friend of a friend, and when you're texted a picture of some guy's temple while studying for a midterm, you're convinced it's a prank at first. your mark is no secret. a venn diagram is easy enough to photoshop. but you get his number anyway because your friend swears up and down that he's a nice guy even if you don't believe her, and you text him, and he does seem like a nice guy and even calls you a couple times to ask about the mark and your favorite music and least favorite teacher and all the other mundane things that you don't think anyone else has ever cared to know. and even though you are a skeptic at heart, you start to entertain the possibility that maybe he really is yours, if only because you want him to be.

he shows up at the next friend gathering. you think that you'll be okay because you've talked and texted, but when he spots you and bounds over with his arms wide open, your name sweet and bright off his tongue, you find yourself unable to utter a word. perhaps you are right and it is too good to be true.

he lifts the fringe of hair covering his temple. here, he exclaims, his smile gentle, touch it. i swear it's real. i wouldn't lie to you.

your fingertips trace the warmth of his skin for the first time, and you let yourself believe him.

── .✦ o.de;

timer that counts down to your first meeting

sometimes the only thing that tells you time is passing is the set of numbers dwindling down on your wrist.

you kind of dread it. when the timer reaches zero, there will be a break in your routine. there will suddenly be someone unfamiliar in your life and it will be uncomfortable and strange, even if they are good. the change worries you more than the person themselves. you can't do anything about it.

when this dreaded change is scheduled to occur, you forget your id badge the first time out the door and lose time retrieving it, burn your tongue on your coffee, and receive a scolding from your manager about a report you submitted last week. by the time you board the metro to go home, having to stand because all the seats are taken, you want to cry.

hey.

you don't know how you hear him, or how you know he is talking to you, but you do. you turn to meet his gaze—and your wrist burns, and you suddenly remember that today is the day. you had forgotten. face hot, you point at yourself, questioning despite knowing the answer very well.

it's a small comfort that he seems surprised too. his eyes have widened, though he recovers quickly and stands. the corners of his mouth turn up. his gaze is kind, and you think that maybe change is not always a bad thing.

just wanted to offer my seat if you want it.

── .✦ junhan;

red string that ties your pinkies together

you have always known him, and he has always known you.

even before you understood the importance of the red string that ties you to him, you had known his importance to you. your family often regales you with stories from when you were toddlers, just learning how to walk, and how you would make a fuss and try to help him up whenever he teetered over. he was the only one you'd share your toys with, and if he hid away from the adults, you were right beside him, keeping him company.

growing up, you don't think too deeply about your relationship with him, even when everyone else starts to. it simply is.

then your first year of high school starts. you try to make a show of looking after him, like you always have, and he goes along because this is how it has always been. but it's hard for you to make friends too and—well, people in high school can be cruel. acting tough can only get you so far.

he easily finds you in the bathroom nobody uses on the third floor, thread of sunset red tangling underneath the third stall. he convinces you to uncurl and stand up, folds a paper towel and pats your cheeks dry. his hand takes your hand the way it always has, softly, his pinkie with the red string linking with yours, and that is when you realize, really realize, what he is to you and what you are to him.

because, of course, taking care of your soulmate has never been one-sided.

── .✦ jooyeon;

hearing their voice in your head

… but for some reason, it only happens when he's singing. and he sings a lot and about a lot of things, anything and everything, about living, about dying, about love and heartbreak, about boiling ramyeon on the stove and choosing his socks. you are not a singer, not like he is. but sometimes you find yourself mumbling lyrics to yourself while washing the dishes or putting away your clothes and only realize it, mortified, when he joins you in the back of your mind, a strange and beautiful echo that far eclipses your own normal little voice. you wonder if he is disappointed that you lack the talent he possesses in spades.

you meet him while on vacation. or, rather, you hear him, which is quite fitting. it's ideal weather for a hike, and you almost trip over your own feet when the song that bursts into your head matches the one drifting around the corner; his voice carries and to hear it in person is like submerging your entire body underwater after only being able to dip your toes in. perhaps it is fate that it is one of the few songs you know by heart, but it is your own decision to pluck up the courage to sing along, loud enough for him to hear outside of his own head.

when he rushes around the corner, your singing turns into a squeak. all of your insecurities come flooding in and you open your mouth to apologize but his face is shining and his smile is so so wide and as he half-stumbles through a singular hi he sounds like he loves you, and you think you love him back when he says—

let's sing some more. i want to hear your pretty voice again.

[vaporclan]

Seriously, though. Putting Fernfreckle on a shelf and censoring him from the public's eyes until they can be normal about him is all fun and games but I gotta be serious for a second

Every single time Fernfreckle is angry, or says anything even remotely related to Beetlebud/his car injury, I get comments like "he should've moved" "he should have run away" or anything implying it's his fault he got hit by a car because he froze on the road

This was a 6 month old kitten, on his first day out of camp, with no clue what a car is, after being told by his mentor its safe. I wrote this scene with the intent of having a flawed character (Beetlebud) make a stupid mistake.

He's angry because he got half his body scraped raw, his eye popped out, his ear gone and he broke his jaw - because he was told it would be SAFE.

He is angry because he believes Beetlebud is not safe to be around children and brought 3 babies into the Clan despite the young cat death toll (he has been venting his frustrations with his StarClan buddies since his accident - this is explained later in the comic)

He is frustrated because they wanted to figure out how to fix the Clans before any new litters were brought in, because he KNOWS that cats dont usually live past a year old in this Clan.

What he is Not is a character who is an asshole just to be an asshole. And to spoil his whole arc because I'm tired, yes, he becomes less closed off and less of an asshole as time goes on. Because again, it's been less than a year.

It has been 9 MONTHS in the comic since Fern's injury - not even a year yet. We're still EXTREMELY early into this Arc and Fernfreckle's character in general.

You don’t have to like him - but its extremely odd that whenever anyone wants to criticise him they immediately turn to blaming him for the car accident. As a disabled writer writing a disabled character, this is really disheartening

Please, research what the Freeze response is. Have you never seen the Deer in the Headlights metaphor?

I just keep getting nasty comments every time Fernfreckle so much as opens his mouth, and the comments always get likes which implies people agree with them. I do not want people with a victim blamey mindset reading my comic.

Fernfreckle is going to be a main character throughout this arc. If you can't be normal about him, stop reading here. Im begging.

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: Looks like we gotta put Katsuki in his place…or try to, anyways. Augh @cashmoneyyysstuff is literally my savior hereee ilyyy Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus and Cattus, fight scene between you and Bakugou, really BAD depictions of a fight scene, reader's down bad LMAO, two characters aren't from MHA but are there for the plot, mentions of overexertion, Bakugou challenges you to a fight, a tualia is a type of duel for reference,

Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Ten, Again

“Daaaaaaamn Cattus.” Hanta drawls, approaching you once training ended for the day. You hadn’t moved a bit- rooted to where you stood when Bakugou challenged you to a fight.  

“Got a duel on the first day, huh? Against the great ol’ ‘War Dragon’ too.” Denki chimes in, slinging an arm around your shoulder.  

“Was nice knowing you two.” you mumble, regret laced in your tone. You joined the army to avoid trouble, not cause it. 

Denki nods sagely, patting your back in an attempt to console you. “What flowers do you want for your funeral?” 

Hanta rolls his eyes, slinging his arm over your shoulders as well. “Eh, I think Cattus’ll beat the ‘Pissy Lizard’ any day- man's probably got some secret moves he isn’t spilling.” the ravenette says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  

You sigh, internally cackling at Hanta’s take on the captain’s nickname, but chose to address the latter statement.  

“I haven’t trained since I was ten though! An entire decade ago!” you groan, and Hanta raises an eyebrow.  

“What’s stopping you from training now then? There’s some dummies we passed a few minutes ago that Moss Bear said was for public use.” 

You blink- how in the world did they know so much about this place and you didn’t? 

You ask them, and Denki just snorts, pulling your wolf’s knot teasingly.  

“You sir, are the King of Moping. You’re too busy lamenting your stay here, and so you don’t appreciate hanging out with your bros” Denki says, sighing dramatically.  

Sero flicks your forehead “And while you were busy off in space, you overhear some things.” 

You groan. Maybe Fern Bat was right. About you, not your father.  

But he wasn’t going to be for long.  

You were going to train as hard as you could to make up for the last 10 years of your life.  

*** 

It was almost midnight when you finally put down the sword, muscles aching, body feverish and drenched with sweat, you worked so hard you felt like you were going to vomit.  

“Shit...” you mutter, letting your sword clatter to the ground, resting your head against the nearby tree.  

You wanted water, and a shower, but you didn’t have that luxury right now. Right now...you had rest, rest was good. Good enough at least. 

Though you were thoroughly exhausted in every meaning of the word, you felt...rejuvenated. Alive, almost.  

You had to admit, you changed a lot in the last week than you had in your entire life, more fierce, more bold, more confident even. You felt...free. Though you loved your family with your entire heart, mind, soul, and being, not having the responsibility to tend to others 24/7 was relieving.  

What wasn’t relieving however was the impending fight you had tomorrow.  

Oh well. 

If you were going down, you wouldn’t make it easy, that’s for sure.  

In the light of the waning moon, you smirk to yourself. 

You were going to remind the so called “War Dragon” that while they grew flowers, cacti still had thorns.  

*** 

You woke up the next morning, early, much to Denki and Hanta’s annoyance, but they understood enough to let you be and give you shit for it later.  

 It’s early enough that no one is awake right now, and so you slip away from the mass of tents and training equipment to find solace in the nearby lake, one you noticed when first arriving here, taking a much-needed wash to cleanse yourself of the dirt, grime and sweat from the previous night. 

It was relaxing and refreshing- exactly what you needed to get yourself in the right mindset for your battle. Icy water laps at your skin, cleansing you from worries and emotions that you couldn’t afford to feel right now. Usually, you would complain and shiver about the temperature of the water you were in- but right now, you felt new. 

Right now, you couldn’t be Y/N.  

Right now, you were Cattus. 

*** 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump. 

Your heart beats thrums steadily against your ribcage, like a gong or a rhythmic drum sounding over and over again.  

And across from you, those stupidly pretty ruby eyes. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

You couldn’t be falling for him. 

Stupid Pissy Lizard. 

You stare at the Adonis of a man in front of you, finally drinking in his features.  

Chiseled jawline, slim waist, hulking figure. Long eyelashes that housed those eyes you loved so much, and spiky hair that jutted in every direction, similar to the horns and spikes of a dragon. Plush lips that stretched across the smug grin on his face. 

Damn. 

That might be a slight problem. 

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” the soldiers that crowded you chanted, louder and louder, in sync with the beating of your heart.  

You were a warrior.  

With a cry, you lunge forward at the sound of the gong, just as Bakugou does.  

And suddenly, you were ten again.  

You see him move without him moving, noticing the muscles in his right arm clench every so slightly, meaning he would strike your left side.  

Dropping to your knees, you slide underneath the blade, ignoring the pain the friction caused against your knees and kick your legs out to knock him off balance too.  

He stumbles, before whipping back to face you, already on your feet, and preparing to strike for his abdomen.  

“Remember Y/N.” you father had told you. “When facing an opponent who excels in strength, you must beat them in speed.” 

Bakugou was strong, you could give him that. Extremely so, with skills so refined that you could barely find the chinks in his armor. He was fast too. 

You would just have to be faster.  

“Become the wind, embrace it, embody it.” you hear your dad’s voice in your head. “And once you do, overcome it.” 

“Be faster, better, become more than the wind could ever be.” 

Bakugou blocks your strike, but is taken aback at your speed, growling as he used the momentum to push you off him, leaving you skidding against the dirt, yet you maintain your footing, and your stance. 

Sword clash, as you fight tirelessly, the soldier surrounding you watching intently. They didn’t expect you to last this long- neither did Bakugou. Were you actually going to win? 

And yet, in reality, what could a single gust of wind do against a fire breathing dragon? 

Just as you couldn’t win against your father, you couldn’t win against Bakugou.  

But you knew that. 

That wasn’t what you were concerned about. You could hold your own against the captain of an army squadron, and Bakugou knew that. You have proven your point.  

Now, you were just toying with him.  

You felt sluggish, overexerting yourself well beyond your limit at this point- knowing that in these types of challenges, a tualia in specificness, the only way to win was to pin your opponent down for 10 seconds.  

Given his sheer size and strength, you knew that pinning him down for that long would be impossible. You came to terms with that a long time ago. 

Bakugou’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his neck. He was just as tired as you were, but still royally ticked off. You could see why they called him a dragon now, eyes narrowed in concentration and breathing so heavily smoke could exit his nostrils.  

Running straight at him, you direct yourself as if to collide with him, the latter bracing for impact before you spin around, hooking your foot around him, and causing him to fall on his back.  

Taking the opportunity, you place your forearm on your collarbone, putting as much weight as your could afford at that moment, pinning him down. 

“One...two...three...” you mutter, loud enough that the other soldiers could hear you.  

Holy shit. Was this going to work?  

Bakugou’s breath comes out ragged and labored- he's tired. 

“Four...five..uff!” you cough out as Bakugou suddenly headbutts you and reverses your stance, him now pinning you.  

Shit!

“One...two...three” he starts counting, voice so low and gravelly it sounds almost unhuman.  

He’s not growling now though, he seems subdued almost, like he just wants to get this over with. 

“Four...five...six...seven...” 

You don’t bother squirming, or trying to escape, already sensing your tualia coming to an end. You can’t help but feel butterflies erupt in your stomach from the proximity and you mentally open a cage to stuff them through- you'd deal with those feelings later.   

“Eight...nine...fucking ten.” he groans, getting off of you, and allowing you to finally breathe, relaxing into the ground, but Denki and Hanta help you up anyways, awestruck.  

“You almost beat him!” Denki gushes, giddy with excitement.  

Hanta nods in assent. “I knew I said you might have secret skills, but damn. I don’t think Bakugou’s gone up against anyone who’s still alive to tell the tale.” 

You chuckle dryly, too tired to share their enthusiasm but grateful for it nonetheless. 

“C’mon guys, let’s get back to the tent.” 

Taglist: @andysdrafts @starieq @nemisimp @missa-archdevilme @coquettefoxxy

@032loe @icedemon1314 @fta1ask4 @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @cuppalevi

@touyasprettydoll @slayfics @yeehawgiddyup13 @notjustanotherextra @frvv

@naoyasbby @sweetblueworm @isentsworld @bkgpackets @moonnm

@bkgrl @satoruyes @eyesforbkg @juicyfingers @aejabba

@noodleryworld @yui-aya @ashiblossom @rv19 @wheezdostuff

@yannvi @liluvtojineteyam @surprisemodafakas @sagejin @kksmush

@cax-per @kit-katsukii

[nethercomfies]

I'm clawing myself out of my Tumblr grave because I gotta make an advertisement.

Guys I'm obsessed with another blond guy (shocking I know)

IK SOME OF YOU HERE ARE ALSO INTO VTUBERS SO LEMME INTRODUCE YOU TO MR. ZANDER NETHERBRAND FROM AVALLUM 🙏🙏🙏

Anyway if you like blond cuties you may enjoy this charming lol incubus. Pls check him out cut I want him to freak out by getting him to 20k subscribers on stream (His reactions are always the cutest -w-)

No but seriously he's cool, you get:

- Banger ASMR streams

- Fun collabs

- Cool games (lots of horror, roguelikes, Minecraft and Genshin)

- A lovely chaotic gremlin who loves going on rants about his interests

- A super warm and welcoming community

- Fern's eternal love and appreciation 💜

PLEASE ENABLE ME IN MY QUEST TO SPREAD MORE LOVE TO CUTE BLONDIES, THANK YOU 🙏🙏🙏

Sorry for disappearing for months and only returning to get you to subscribe to vtubers, do you still love me?

[of-many-aus]

Coffee

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You were stumbling around the apartment like a blind bat, bumping into every surface imaginable. From the wall, to the doorframe, to the corner of the table (that one was painful).

Never in your entire life could you confidently say that you had been this late for anything before.

Normally, you’d call yourself a pretty punctual person, the latest you ever arrived at a function was ten minutes past the starting time.

Right now, though, an hour and a half into your econ lecture, you were yet to be out the door.

Your shirt was thrown askew against your body and your backpack was swinging on a single strap against your shoulder, papers haphazardly shoved in during your struggle this morning.

Somehow, you had slept through not just one, not just two, but four of your alarm clocks this morning before finally being awoken by a pounding on your bedroom door, the muffled voice of your sleep-deprived roommate filling your ears enough to jolt you awake.

Jake was by no means a morning person, never up before eleven, save for early baseball practices. So seeing him standing in your shared kitchen right now at 9:30 was a rarity.

“Gotta go, gotta go.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, as you hobbled around on one foot while trying to shove your shoe onto the other.

Seresin was standing there, coffee mug in hand, amusement swirling in his green eyes.

“Need a hand there, Angel?” He asked lightly, voice teasing.

“Late, late, late.” You muttered like a broken record, looking more like a crazed woman than anything as your wide eyes feverishly scanned the kitchen counter for any signs of whatever you could use to scrounge up some quick coffee to hopefully wake your senses up.

“Here.”

The last thing you had expected in that moment was to be blinking down at Jake's outstretched arm, travel coffee mug in hand.

“I made it just the way you like.” He promised with a lopsided smile.

You faltered, stilling for the first time since throwing yourself out of bed fifteen minutes prior, “You made-“

“Two sugars and a splash of cream.” He took your hand in his and guided it to close around the mug, not letting go until he was sure you were holding onto it, “Now, come on, you've gotta go.” He repeated your earlier words, gently trying to steer you out of the room.

“U-um,” You mouth opened and closed like an idiot for a moment before you swallowed thickly, “Thanks.”

Jake smiled dazzlingly down at you, “Don’t mention it, Angel.” He glanced down at his watch, “The bus will be outside in three minutes, I suggest you hurry if you have to trek down all those stairs.”

Your heart leapt to your throat, he had not only had gotten up early, made your coffee just the way you liked- a fact you hadn’t even realized he was aware of- but he also looked up the bus schedule to make sure you didn’t miss it.

“Have fun in class, Angel.” Jake threw one last wink your way when you exited the apartment.

“J-Jake.” You halted his movements as he turned back to you with curious eyes, “Thank you, seriously.”

The man smiled softly, “No need to thank me.”

With that, he quickly shooed you down the stairs, your racing thoughts making it so you nearly missed the bus. But you didn’t. Thanks to Jake.

Series Taglist: @djs8891 @pono-pura-vida @shanimallina87 @melllinaa @callsignbirdy @fogle97 @randomfandomgirl97 @averyhotchner @blueoorchid @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misconceptionmistress @ravenclawaddict5285 @j-brielmalfoy @waywardhunter95 @classyunknownlover @whoreforfictionalmen18 @clancycucumber230 @celestialeviereads @h-ngm-ns @desert-fern @lostinheavensworld @whatislovevavy @emma8895eb

[ganondoodle]

some more ideas for the totk rewritten project (botw2);

underground general ideas i thought about what to theme the underground after, and since its vaguely like underwater in canon i thought id push it much much further, you cant actually dive and while id love that i do want to stay within a certain possible range of it still being a sequel to botw and somewhat based on totk- so im putting the low gravity effect away from the sky and instead in the underground, the ENTIRE underground, that way it is distinctly different in the way you have to play since you gotta work around the low gravity effect, the entire plant life and enemies will also be based on deep sea creatures- anglerfish like ones that half burrow and lure you with their light, those fish (or are they worms?) that hide underground as soon as you step too close, maybe they hide initially but only to make you go closer and try and snatch at you

much more glowy things too, basically everythings got some sort of light on it, there are different creatures flying around that all feature some sort of glow, so there is stuff to see but you cant immediately know what it is, theres a unique kind of plant that when you bother it spews out a dark cloud of spores (kinda like in tp) that dims any light you had; there are some landmarks you can activate or repair with the help of zelda but there is no way to illuminate the entire map and the lil light ferns expire slowly too

i also want it to be way more wet, not full with water but maybe a thin layer of water at most places and some drops from stalactites that fall constantly

there are shadowy ghosts there as well but they CAN aggro (still working on it), either by taking a weapon from their grave or some other things; also considered them or some other enemy that stalks you for some time and the only clue you get is maybe double sound of your steps or something at the very edge of your screen but you can never catch it when looking around (i dont want to make it a horror game but do want the underground to stay as creepy as when you first get down there), something elusive and shadow based that is rarely encountered but stays creepy for longer than the miasma hands sicne it cant get stuck on anything and the only way to be safe is while in the air

maybe some miasma reanimated corpses of ancient shiekah killed when the ancient hyrulean king turned on them (only foudn in the underground in this way; there are others but unposessed in alot of the broken shrines and old laboratories so seeing one suddendly move and crawl after you is probably pretty scary, kinda like the vroken guardians sometimes being still functional)

the dongos are the main friendly animal you can discover there and tame (still working out more details) they can climb around, always emit a little bit of light and the shadow enemy wont latch onto you as long as you are near a dongo, maybe even most enemies will leave you alone if you are riding one, as they are slower than horses, with the exception of gigamas (or a similar enemy ill redesign for that) as they are the natural predator of dongos; when you get to close to one it will react to it and if a fight is initiated it burrows away (you can call it and it comes back to you if you are out of range of that enemy)

tameable animals since i played skyward sword recently i just realized again how much fun it is to fly on a bird, sicne im already dividing the three map layers a bit more i thought it would be cool to make these layers more distinct, in some part by the tameable animals- the sky has birds (based on dinosaurs), the surface has horses, the underground dongos- neither of them can follow you to one they dont belong and the way to call them switches as you switch layers

im not sure yet if those birds should be ridable or are only able to give you a small boost upwards when you call them

magic bar so instead of actual batteries i planned to, as i said before, to put that into links shiekah arm prosthetic, and instead of giving you literal battery symbols on the screen it would be a bar right below your health and next to the symbol of the current selected arm ability

krog seeds a bit more to the krogs- as i said before they are no longer the way to make your pockets bigger- among an armor set i also thought about making the most expensive reward OR the end reward for finding all of them be the eponator zero- maybe it went missing during the cataclysm and maronus (engl. hestu) finds it at some point, so you get your bike back but its locked behind something bigger so you are unlikely to exploit it early on

(EDIT) (forgot to mention the dragons- im putting them each in one layer of the map- eldra in the underground bc gan is there and youknow, demise coming from the ground and fire being associated with the ground etc, farodra on the surface GREEN etc, and naydra in the sky, bc wisdom and owls and gods and all that weeeeee)

(on a sidenote im also thinking about ditching the building mechanic to some extent since i dont think it fits very well as a whole and it makes it too easy to completely skip stuff- i want the main way to move things or to get around be the hookshot/grappling hook part of links arm; still working on all that though .. so far it does seem likely like it will be much more limited)

[blenselche]

I think it's very funny that after Finn has his weird freak out over Fern still being alive he just becomes very supportive and accepting like "ok i guess this is what we're doing now, cool ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ" like honey no, he's trying to kill you lmao. I still laugh at his cheery "hi Fern!" in CAWM.

i gotta cut wood but i wanted to upload a little doodle at least

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

All things considered, it was a nice night.

Fireheart was half-rolled onto his back, front paws tucked into his upturned chest while his rear end remained on its side. His tail tapped absentmindedly on the still-warm sand as he gazed up at the stars. The weather had loosened up, mercifully keeping the sky clear and even warming the air a little. It was still somewhat chilled, but the ground had softened from muddy slop to dense soil—still retaining a bit of moisture, but not enough to stick to a traveling cat’s paws—and the frost had barely made an appearance before shying away and melting again into dew.

Thank the Three for small miracles, Fireheart thought as his eyes lazily drifted from star to star. They know we needed it.

Caught up in the beauty of the sky and the grainy comfort of the sand, he was only somewhat registering cats talking around him. Faint squeals drifted out of the nursery’s entrance and his ear twitched at what he thought (hoped, really) was Goldenflower gently chiding the kits inside. Frostfur’s litter was already out, but in the past month they had calmed down considerably and come to prefer talking with the one cat in the apprentice’s den who would soon be a warrior, Swiftpaw, as he regaled them with stories of the territory and all the strange creatures they would see there.

Fireheart twisted his head back and to the side a bit—yes, there they were, listening to the black tom recounting his experience going to the Mother on the far side of the territories.

“And I know she looks scary,” he was saying, “but that’s kind of the point, I think. It makes you respect her even more. You just have to be brave and go into her mouth, trusting her. And Yellowfang will be there to guide you, so you’ll find your way.”

The sole molly of the litter, fluffy ginger-patched Brightkit, spoke up now. “I won’t be scared. The Mother wouldn’t hurt us—we’re her favorites.”

Thornkit, dark and golden-brown, frowned at her. “Still gotta be ‘spectful.”

Fireheart’s mouth twitched into a brief grimace in sympathy as the tom’s ears went back in embarrassment at the end of his sentence. Thornkit still slurred and stumbled over his words, even with as much as Frostfur had worked with him on speaking clearly, and he had been speaking shorter and shorter sentences recently, and at a much lower volume. His siblings understood him just fine, save one.

That one, the deaf little white tom directly in front of Swiftpaw, was Snowkit. His bright blue eyes, wide and vibrant, were fixed on Swiftpaw’s mouth as the apprentice said, “Yeah, it’s important to be quiet on the walk in and during the ceremony. Just wait until Yellowfang speaks to you.”

Brackenkit, a thinner and lighter version of Thornkit, tilted his head. “Will Cinderpaw be there?”

“She was when I went.” Swiftpaw’s eyes lifted upwards as he squinted a bit. “I mean, we did ours together, so that’s why, but I think she’d have to go anyway.” He turned to look at his dark grey sister as she limped out from the ferns by the meeting stump. “Hey, Cinderpaw! Are you going to be with these kits when they do their pilgrimage?”

Cinderpaw beamed with a hacking scoff very similar to her mentor’s. “Obviously! I have to learn how to do it myself, and there’s no way I’m missing out on Brighty getting blessed.” She swept her tail, crooked at the tip, in the direction of the toms. “And you guys, of course.”

Brackenkit seemed to take no offense. “I bet my blessing will be from Rokhar.”

Fireheart purred, rolling slowly onto his side. Of all the three gods, the Tiger was the one he understood the least. Then again, it seemed like everyone outside of the seer role had some trouble grasping exactly what Rokhar was all about. The first seer of Fireheart’s life in ThunderClan, Spottedleaf, had described him as being “in-between” and “all-encompassing”. Even after more than a year of being a Clan cat, Fireheart still had no idea what that meant.

“Why Rokhar?” Swiftpaw asked, sounding amused. “Because he’s the cool—?“

“Because he’s the cool one!” Brackenkit said, exactly in tandem with the apprentice. At another frown from Thornkit, he added, “I mean, they’re all cool, but Rokhar’s the coolest.”

Cinderpaw limped up to the little gathering of the young, her bad leg crumpled up towards her belly. “Knowing your dad, he’s probably telling Horoa right now to bless all of you with a Lion’s touch.”

While the kits all started babbling to each other about whether that was true or not, Fireheart’s heart clenched at the mention of Lionface. He had been the deputy of ThunderClan after Redtail, another first for Fireheart when he had joined the Clan from life as a house cat. Both of them had been great toms, Redtail kind and friendly and Lionface majestic and confident (even if he and Fireheart had clashed here and there). Both of them were gone, and both of them had been…

Fireheart’s claws sank into the sand. He eyed Cinderpaw’s crippled leg.

It had been around a month since the trial that shattered the Clan’s collective heart. No one had spoken of it after it happened, and even the mere implication of something that would link back to that night was hushed or ignored. Fireheart couldn’t stand this thing Clan cats had with refusing to acknowledge bad cats or the things they’d done; it didn’t help anyone feel better, it just made things awkward and sad. Supposedly, the spirits of these bad cats could come back if spoken about or named and haunt the territories, but as far as Fireheart had seen, the only thing they haunted was his dreams.

What he’d give to talk about this with Goldenflower.

But she was in the nursery now, and she needed peace and quiet to raise his adoptive siblings until they were big enough to come out and explore camp. Being forbidden from visiting, Fireheart just had to rely on news shared by Brindleface or Frostfur—mostly Brindleface, as Frostfur had left the nursery early to give the crowded den some room and now only came to check on her nearly-grown kits. Brindleface had been incredibly nervous and sensitive when she was stuck in the den, but now that she had been able to leave her kits for walks here and there…

“Fireheart! There you are!”

The ginger tom blinked and got to his feet, shaking off what sand had clung to his fur. The beautiful grey tortoiseshell in question had just climbed up and out of the nursery, her pale green eyes shining as Fireheart approached her.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said when he was close enough. “Well, two surprises.”

Fireheart perked up. “Really? Are they about Cloudkit?”

“They are.” Brindleface’s fluffy tail curled at the delight that must have immediately brightened up Fireheart’s face. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have come seen him before, but that makes this a little more interesting.”

Cloudkit had been adopted into the Clan, the same as his uncle. Fireheart had been given the kit by his frantic sister, Rosy, and ThunderClan took him in with only a bit of reluctance. The two of them did not look similar—Fireheart was skinny and shorthaired and Cloudkit was a ball of white fluff—and with the automatic distance of Fireheart not being able to visit to see his nephew and bond with him, he could only hope that they wouldn’t be so different that they could not find common ground besides being outsiders at birth, especially since Fireheart had promised to mentor Cloudkit once he became an apprentice.

“What is it, then?” he asked, trying not to sound overly-eager.

“Well, for one…” Brindleface turned and poked her head into the nursery. “Babies, do you want to come out now?”

Indistinct squeaks of excitement immediately followed this, and Brindleface purred before turning back to Fireheart, saying, “That’s the first surprise. They’re ready to meet you.”

Fireheart’s fur flared out and he beamed. “I can see him now!”

Brindleface nodded, her whiskers twitching. “And the second…”

She gestured with her paw just in time for the first kits to scramble out of the den: both grey with broken tabby markings, similar in every way except for the molly being both more delicate in the face and fluffier than her brother. They completely ignored Fireheart and bumbled out into the center of camp. Who followed them was—

Not the kit Fireheart had brought in.

This kit was fluffy and round, sure, but ginger covered his ears and nose and was steadily claiming his tail. His fur was quite long and puffed out, even if he was a bit small; if it weren’t for the unusual color, he would fit perfectly in with the rest of ThunderClan. By the way his deep blue eyes blinked owlishly at Fireheart, he was just as surprised at the reunion.

“Cloudkit,” Brindleface said with another paw-gesture, “this is your uncle, Fireheart. Remember how we talked about him?”

“Ohhh,” Cloudkit said loudly. He looked Fireheart up and down before announcing, “You’re short.”

“Cloudkit!” Brindleface scolded. “That’s rude.”

Fireheart chuffed and bent his head to meet his nephew’s eye-level. “And you’re pudgy.”

Cloudkit squinted at Fireheart. “What’s ‘pudgy’?”

“Fat!” Cinderpaw called from across the clearing.

Cloudkit squawked and slowly and clumsily swatted a paw in the direction of Fireheart’s nose. “’Mnot pudgy! You’re pudgy!”

Brindleface stared at the little tom in baffled embarrassment, but Fireheart pretended to be struck and rubbed his nose like it’d been scratched.

“Don’t beat me up, please,” he said, poorly hiding his amusement. “I’m sorry, you’re not.”

Cloudkit nodded in satisfaction—then, to Fireheart’s surprise, he toddled right up to his uncle and bumped their noses together. Him being so small, it didn’t hurt, but it was more of a punch than usual.

“Hi, uncle,” Cloudkit said, pulling back.

Fireheart’s whiskers twitched. “Hi, nephew.”

“That’s better.” Brindleface stepped forward to lick Cloudkit’s ear. “Are you ready to meet your Clanmates now?”

The little puffball nearly jumped in place and waddled off after his siblings, who were currently interrupting the discussion between Frostfur’s litter and Swiftpaw. Fireheart watched him go, amazed at the strength of the flame of affection in his chest, even when he hadn’t seen the kit since he’d come to the Clan.

“How did his fur get like that?” He turned to Brindleface now. “He was white when I brought him in.”

Brindleface rolled a shoulder. “Kittypet blood, I’m guessing. I’ve never seen anything like that in the territories. I thought he was sick at first, but he’s been perfectly happy and healthy this whole time.” She gave Fireheart a cheeky squint. “Both of you stick out now.”

Fireheart sighed a chuff. “At least he’ll be warm this winter.”

Brindleface nodded. Then her eyes flicked to the side and narrowed a fraction before she walked off after her litter. Fireheart’s gaze followed where she’d looked.

Darkstripe. Of course. He was glaring at the now-wandering Cloudkit.

Fireheart contained another, much heavier sigh. Since the trial, the dark tabby had hardly said more than one word to anyone, and they had to speak to him first. Fireheart hadn’t dared start a conversation with him—Darkstripe had never liked him to begin with, but since the end result of the trial was largely on Fireheart’s shoulders, the hatred in Darkstripe’s eyes burned Fireheart’s back whenever the two had to cross paths. He’d done his best to give the older warrior space, which was difficult when they shared a den.

Anticipating the glare to turn on him, Fireheart prepared to look away and find something else to engage with. He was saved by the camp entrance rustling to reveal the pale brown tortoiseshell Speckletail leading a patrol in. As her followers trotted to the prey-pile, she approached Darkstripe and said something to him Fireheart didn’t catch. Darkstripe didn’t respond beyond a twitch of his lip, getting to his feet and stalking out of camp. Speckletail watched him go, huffed and shook her head before joining the rest of the patrol.

After the loss of the prior deputy—the one that trial had been all about—Speckletail had been selected to replace him. She hadn’t been the expected choice, but she had accepted the role and immediately went about keeping the Clan busy and organized for the first month of her tenure. Fireheart suspected that this was a tactical decision; giving everyone something to do kept them from stewing in their own thoughts over the events of the past fall. Things had finally slowed down, with the warmer weather gifting the Clan with more prey than Fireheart had been told showed up in the end seasons. This was one of the first nights in quite a while that Fireheart had gotten to stay home and just enjoy the peace of camp.

“Good evening,” he said to Speckletail as she walked past him with a woodrat.

She nodded to him, putting down her prey for a moment. “Any word while I was gone?”

Fireheart shook his head, ears going back sadly. “I haven’t spoken to her since a few days ago.”

Speckletail sighed through her nose. Her eyes were tired. “I’ll talk with her once I’ve eaten.” She picked up her prey again and continued on her way, sitting down with Willowpelt on the far side of camp.

Fireheart’s eyes drifted to the wall of briar that surrounded the sandy clearing. Though he couldn’t see it, his gaze landed on the area where the leader’s den was situated on the outside.

Where Bluestar was undoubtedly sleeping.

The trial and the near-murder preceding it had hurt everyone, but it had broken something in the Clan’s leader. Only a few days after the deputy’s execution, Bluestar had become a rare sight. She now walked alone in the forest or holed up in her den, only coming out to order patrols or respond to something Speckletail asked her about. It had been part of the quiet conversation for some time now, but no one dared to broach the topic to Bluestar—even Fireheart, her former apprentice, or Whitecloud, her nephew.

It wasn’t fair, Fireheart wanted to shout to the stars. Of all the cats suffering, why did their leader have to struggle the hardest? The pain and suspicion and fear clouded her eyes and silenced her voice. It had been her throat the deputy’s teeth nearly crushed, her friends and Clanmates he crippled and murdered to get to her. Now, whenever she looked at her charges, it seemed like she was gauging their intentions, how well they could be trusted. Even Fireheart had been under scrutiny more than once.

She really would benefit from being able to talk about this whole thing…

“Cloudkit, please!”

Fireheart blinked and was back in camp. He turned his head to see his nephew marching for the fallen log that was the elder’s den. The elders were already out—lanky and grey One-eye, dark brown Halftail, and black-and-white Patchpelt—but they were talking among themselves, completely unaware of the kit making his way towards them, his siblings trailing behind with curious looks on their faces. Brindleface was padding after them, calling for Cloudkit.

“Let them be—” she started, but Cloudkit broke into a clumsy imitation of a run and continued on. Just as he reached Patchpelt, he tried to slow down, only succeeding in crashing right into the elder and stumbling backwards, plopping into a sitting position.

Patchpelt coughed (as he had been lately) in surprise and looked round to see the kit. His faded eyes brightened. “Well, now! I don’t remember this one.”

“I’m Cloudkit.” The furball blinked up at him. “My sister is Aspenkit and my brother is Ashkit.”

Halftail tilted his head, eyes narrowed analytically.

“You’ve got some ginger on your face, little ant,” croaked One-eye, peering with her single eye at the kit. “Or you’ve been playing in the sand.”

“No, he’s supposed to look like that.” Brindleface hurried up to them. “I’m sorry he disturbed you.”

“You know we love being disturbed,” Patchpelt said fondly, looking at the grey kits as they approached. “Ah, and this must be Ashkit and Aspenkit.”

The tom kit nodded firmly, standing as tall as he could, while the molly lowered her nose and shyly regarded the ground. Cloudkit, meanwhile, was meeting One-eye’s gaze, looking completely unbothered by the marred face that every kit and new apprentice was a little taken aback by. Fireheart noted with pride that he didn’t broach the topic of One-eye’s accident, only chirping, “You’re tall.”

One-eye chortled. “And old, on top of that. Do you know what my name is?”

Cloudkit shook his head.

“I’m One-eye, unsurprisingly.” The pale molly nodded to her denmates. “That’s Halftail and Patchpelt. Can you guess which is which?”

“Um…” Cloudkit scrunched up his little face before answering slowly. “Patchpelt’s got patches, and Halftail’s brown, right?”

“Very good.” Patchpelt purred. “We have easy names to remember.”

Cloudkit brightened up and wagged his short little tail. “I did it!”

“Yes, you did it,” Brindleface said, touching her nose to her adopted son’s head, adding to the elders, “I can distract him if he starts to bother you.”

“Oh, he’s not a bother at all.” One-eye tilted her head comically at Cloudkit, who trilled in response. “I haven’t had a kit not flinch at my face since I became an elder.”

Fireheart watched on as Cloudkit made his way around to Halftail, who eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. An anxiety he didn’t know was in his stomach settled at the warm looks on the elders’ faces when Cloudkit loudly announced, “Fireheart’s my uncle!” and puffed out his little chest.

He’s bold, Fireheart thought affectionately, watching his nephew respond to Patchpelt’s kindly questions about life in the nursery. Rosy, whether or not you get to see him again, I know you’ll be proud.