#smokefall

[bonefall]

Are there any changes to Smokepaw (ShadowClan Apprentice in TNP) in BB? He is my all time favourite Warriors character for literally no reason, he existed twice, the second time to fall off a cliff and die, but I love him. I feel like he was a huge waste of potential, in that first time he appeared I thought of Blackstar as a sort of parental figure to him. Think like Firepaw and Bluestar, maybe? Or maybe more like Firepaw and Yellowfang? I'm sure that was just me serious projecting onto like less than a page of screen time, but I am so attached to him. I even made an AU where there was a conveniently placed river that swept him away to the Sundrown Place where he was taken in by Midnight.

Does BB have anything for my little guy?

Smokefall! Given an obligatory Sardonic ShadowClan name after he fell off a cliff and forced the entire journey to halt in its tracks for almost a month!

because shadowclan is like, ridiculously small and the family tree is a brick, Smokepaw (TNP), Smokepaw (Field Guides), and Smokefoot (Po3) are reworked. SmokeFALL survives, Smokepaw is now BILLOWCLOUD, and Smokefoot is SMOGFOOT.

Smog and Smoke are siblings. Billowcloud is not related to them.

Anyway, Smokepaw got REALLY hurt in that fall, but did survive

A (currently unpicked) Tribe cat actually climbed all the way down to get him. He had to be carried the rest of the way.

But once safe, he really couldn't move or else jeopardize his recovery. That, paired with a lack of travelling rations and a few pregnant cats close to delivery halted the Journey.

But Smokepaw still got ribbed relentlessly for "holding everyone up." Poor guy. ShadowClan humor.

Talonpaw got really close to him in that time. In fact, a LOT of cats developed close bonds in this "intermission," including many of the cats who would ultimately support Mudclaw's claim in WindClan.

Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost, as well.

In general, this is a really important hiatus because it's adding some PIVOTAL breathing room for cats to bond free of Clan divisions.

Clan Culture is never really the same after this. It's a change a long time coming.

He is also one of Birchfall's friends. This entire apprentice/kit generation has a very odd view on Clan divisions, because the Destruction of White Hart and the subsequent journey were so formative.

It was actually Smokepaw's "idea" to make Paw Soup. It came from a suggestion towards some WindClan apprentices, that they should try to make an ancient gumbo recipe that hadn't been seen since the start of Heatherstar's campaign.

Birchkit and his big bro Spiderpaw butted in, RiverClan apprentices didn't want to be left out, and the rest is history.

They never did make that gumbo but they made something new.

At the Lake, he also prevents Talonpaw from dying to Jacques and The Dreaded Susan. By also getting his ass beat.

(But that's probably gonna be offscreen because im not dedicating several chapters to it like canon when theres a civil war that should be in focus)

Smokefall becomes the next Educator of ShadowClan, and the mate of Talonclaw. Eventually Smogfoot surrogates a kit for them-- probably Pinenose.

The couple shows up at various points throughout Po3 and OotS as very important friends of Birchfall, and general friendly faces in ShadowClan which is a major ally through the arcs.

Sadly, though, they meet a gruesome and tragic end in AVoS. The Kin is a cult, and once it takes power, it immediately targets the one who teaches history. Smokefall. Talonclaw refuses to abandon his mate.

His position is taken by the infamous Berryheart, who is the educator through TBC. He is survived by several grandkits through Pinenose-- Slatefur, Puddleshine, and Happyface.

[crowstar-s-warriorworld]

Kittypet Thunderclan AU

AU where Tiny/Scourge, Ruby, Socks, Smudge, Oliver, Princess, and Cloudtails Siblings, all join Thunderclan Tiny is taken in after the Tigerpaw attack. Obviously, he is on the side of Ravenpaw after Redtail's death, Icefrost is his name and I think I will hand him to Thrushpelt as an apprentice. --- Smudge, Oliver, & Princess, all join after Fire does. Just after they find out that Princess is pregnant so that they do not get separated, Smudge becomes Coalspot, Princess becomes Fawnheart, and Oliver becomes Lightflare (I wanted them to have names that tied them to Fireheart). Cloudtail is still named Cloudkit, but I am working on names for the other kits. --- Ruby and Socks join at the time they would have gone to Bloodclan for food, finding Tiny based on the words of two strays he lets get away with hunting for food(Bone and Brick), Ruby becomes Smokefall and Socks becomes Shadestreak. --- Icefrost finds out that Fireheart is his half-brother shortly after he joins when he asks about his family and finds out Jake is his father. Ice acts as an older brother figure to all of the younger members of the kittypet squad, Cloud loves his uncle Icefrost and can be found trying to convince him to take him on patrol. Icefrost still does not like Smokefall or Shadestreak but will be tolerant for the sake of his younger siblings and nieces and nephews. --- Ruby/Smokefall is the mother of Darktail in this au, Onestar is still Darktail's father. Icefrost despite his grievances with Smokefall, comforts her after Onestar rejects her and their son, one of the few times they have a long talk without any fighting.

[superconductivebean]

#961: poppy sweeting headcanon post - 2

Imelda headcanons posts: >>>1 || >>>2 (nsfw) || >>>3 || >>>4 Imelda x Poppy headcanons: >>>1 || >>>2 || >>>3

Once again raising my head from the Brainrot fog to share some character headcanons with the world. Brainrot is a fic I’m working on.

Tags: @thriftstorebabayaga @caramel-hufflepuff @celestial--sapphic @catohphm

When Gran saw her little petal dreary and life-starved on riding an equally as hideously looking hippogriff, she was appalled. Upset at her daughter. Mad at her imprudent, foolish piece of shit of a husband. Gran took Poppy and her hippogriff friend in right away;

Highwing is the part of the family. She is as protective of Poppy as Gran;

Poppy's parents couldn't believe she ran away and they were trying to get her back through connections in English midlands. Those who weren't having their arses scorched by Granny Sweeting, lost a working limb to Highwing's wrath;

Everyone thought the clock had been ticking. Poppy's parents awaited her eventual return. Gran talked to everyone she could about the nasty baby snatchers. Poppy felt dreaded at the prospect of leaving home for the school for many many months.

Brainrot: Besides poaching, the Ashwinders were interested in growing their numbers via taking magical children through their ranks; orphans and the poor and destitute were their primary targets but any child born under the Ashwinders' tents was very welcome and was a huge status boost to their family;

Brainrot: Victor's father wanted a powerful and loyal clan behind him to have some 'leverage' on the magical trade. If reading that you thought of something crude, primitive, violent, utterly vile at its core -- you weren't wrong. Continental Ashwinders, the main branch, exploited and degraded many people in their wake;

Brainrot: Baby-snatching was a huge problem to the international law enforcement. British Aurors, even though their department began to have been facing a severe decline in what they could do (due to the Ministry becoming corrupt with the Ashwinders' money), remained faithful to the cause of fighting off any poacher set their eyes on magical children;

When the Hogwarts Express left London, then went tangent across Norwich's border, then ran along the midlands, Poppy spotted hippogriff in a distance. Only tens of minutes later did she realised it was Highwing; her compartment mates were astonished to see a hippogriff as devoted to following a train. It was unusual. One of them, Mr Leander Prewett, told Poppy the beast must've seen his home from there;

The next day Poppy, worrisome, escaped the castle early in the morning. She needed to find Highwing; she lost sight of her when at smokefall. Highwing was found in the small grove near the Beast class;

Professor Howin was taking care of her, as she was still very weak. Howin was about to berate Poppy for coming too close to a wild hippogriff, a dangerous beast, it wouldn't fret to stomp a child (not to mention Poppy was a first year and should had not even been there in the first place). But Highwing found it in herself to jump and fall flat at Poppy's feet, crowing at her;

The touchy reunion between the two told Howin enough to conclude the girl and the hippogriff had some history. She received Granny Sweeting's letter later that day, explaining the situation;

Highwing remained in Scotland after Poppy left for the summer but she tried to follow the Express again. It became their little tradition but her devotion would always leave Poppy in tears.

[kvtie-pie]

I was tagged by @the-night-wizard and @norelorn to shuffle my repeat playlist and post the first 10 songs, thanks! (and sorry for taking so long lol)

Tagging @scarsoftheshatteredsky, @theashenone, and @aealoarcturus, no pressure

[hermesserpent-stuff]

HAHA MAJOR POTENTIAL SPOILERS for Cascading Smokefall

Basically im testing out a direction. and this is the scene for it. and i really needed to write something like this to get it out of my system. and to think about it. Lemme know thoughts

prolly will do a reblog when awake

tw: drugs tw: kidnapping

When Electro had exploded out of the lightbulb, Quentin knew that there would be trouble in Ock’s lab. When the man began to babble about Peter being spider-man to the doctor, Quentin knew it was moments before questioning eyes would turn to him. He had quickly absented himself from the room and heard yells follow his pounding steps.

Quentin blots down a hallway fingers hitting Montana's contact on pure memory as he skids. The door is locked and alarms are blaring. Sh*t. He twists on his foot and darts in another direction as the phone rings once. 

“Quentin!”

Montana’s voice is distressed. Quentin knows he has limited time and does not want to waste it.

“Ock knows about Peter’s identity. And I’m not going to be able to get out. I need you to do two things.”

“Quentin, we’re co-”

“Shut up! You might not be able to find me and this is important.” Montana goes silent and Quentin ducks through a doorway and forces a jammed door open and then re-sticks it with a few added chairs behind himself before running again all while speaking fast. “One, look after Harry. Please.”

“Always.”

Quentin knows this. But it is reassuring to hear it.

“Two, tell Peter this is not his fault. I played with fire. It's my fault for being burnt.” 

“Here. Tell him yourself.”

A relief. Peter is on the phone after a second and Quentin hears his shaky breaths. He can also hear the door down the hall get obliterated. Not much time. Not much at all.

“Peter? Sweetheart. It's not your fault. This is on me. Okay?”

“But!”

“Hush. Not your fault. I have to call Harry now. Stay amazing. I've always admired your bravery. Tell Montana I'm sorry. And tell Tinkerer I love him.”

And Quentin ducks into a room, blocks the door with a table, and finds a cabinet to hide in. Not the best but it will buy him a few seconds. He calls Harry. It takes a moment. He knows his kid is at work. He could just leave a message. But he has to hope-

“Dad? I'm at work, but I got a moment. What's up?”

“Harry. I want you to know that I love you. And that I'm so proud of you.”

His voice shakes as he whispers in the dark. His kid immediately panics.

“Dad??? What's happening? Why do you sound-”

“And whatever happens, I know you can handle it. Montana and Tinkerer will be there for you. Darling, you're amazing and I could not be prouder to have a son so talented as you.” 

Harry seems to catch on that this might be their last chance to speak.

“Dad. I love you too. Your best dad a teen like me could ask for. But- You can't leave me!”

The words warm his heart and tears burn his eyes at the note of desperation at the end.

“I don't want to. Never think that I wanted to, my little hare. I just-”

The door of the room shutters and Quentin hears it cracking. He closes his eyes, trying to remember any other last words he has. Harry starts begging him to stay. To tell him what is happening. Quentin curls into himself tighter. 

“I want you to be happy. That is my only wish. No matter what happens to me today at the hands of Ock, try to find a way to be happy, okay? You deserve happiness. And your biological father was always wrong about you.”

And then the door explodes into the room and the whole cabinet shudders. His heart stutters as his name is called.

“Quentin!” 

Anger and coaxing coil along each syllable. His body shivers. Harry is still in his ear repeating over and over love and begging him not to go. To stay. Quentin wishes it were that simple. He manages a final whisper.

“I love you.”

And the cabinet is ripped open by an octobot. It grabs him and yanks him out. His phone falls from his grasp and his arms are pinned to his sides as he is forced to kneel. The bot presses into his chest. Ock stands before him, goggles hiding his eyes completely. 

“Quentin. You knew.”

A statement. The tone is cold. Calculating. Quentin narrows his eyes in defiance. His silence speaks for him. Ock frowns. And one of the actuators reaches out to his wrist and suddenly the black dragon is taken and held. It squirms and shreiks.

“You have no need for this.”

Ock crushes it and Quentin lets out a small noise of pain. Now they might think him dead. And that bot had been a faithful companion. The loss hurts. His eyes follow it to the floor when it falls. Ock grabs his chin with a human hand and forces him to look back up at him.

“You knew and said nothing. I am very disappointed in you Quentin.”

“Why would it be my place to spill secrets? If a fool knows a secret, he tells it because he is a fool.”

Quentin hisses back. Ock’s stare burns. It burns deep and Quentin feels his heart singing a beat far too quick to monitor. Ock frowns.

“What other secrets have you kept from me?” His tone is gentle and soft. Quentin snarls and the actuator twitches.

“You're going to have to kill me. I will not speak.”

He has so many secrets to keep. So many that are not his own. Ock tilts his head and looks a touch sad. The doctor kneels, coming to eye level.

“Oh, no. I could never kill you, Quentin. I like you far too much. I find very few people agreeable to work with in a lab setting. You would make a fine apprentice.”

The octobot grows warmer and Quentin feels heavier.

“I’ve already got a mentor.”

Quentin bites back. Ock hums, hand shifting from his chin to his hair to give a gentle pat. 

“You will reconsider with time. But for now, I must address this business of Peter being the arachnid without you hurting yourself by getting in the way.”

Quentin snarls and then finds himself tiring. He struggles against it and then starts to slump.

“Ahh, there we go. Rest Quentin. All is well.” 

His body no longer listens as Ock shifts so that he is slumping into the doctor’s side.

“Oh but what is this?”

The man picks up his phone and Quentin’s heart stills as he sees that Harry is still on the line. His tongue is thick and unwieldy, but his heart is desperate. Desperate for a few more seconds of his child’s voice. Desperate for his child to be alright.

“Harry.”

A thick whisper. Ock glances at him and then places the phone on speaker. Harry’s fearful babbling and tears etch into Quentin’s frozen, drugged bones. A tear burns his cheek.

“Harry?”

Ock’s tone is soft, lying. Harry falls silent immediately.

“Quentin is safe.”

“If you do anything to my dad, no one will remember that you ever walked this earth. I will scrub your essence away from this universe and any other I can find.”

Harry’s tone is dark and powerful. The curse of a witch. Ock does not seem to sense it. Or ignores it.

“He will be fine. He just needs to be kept safe for a little bit. You will see him again.”

“Yeah, I f*cking will. He’s my dad, and there is not a force on Earth that can convince me to let him be taken from me. F*ck you. Im going to burn you alive! Damn your ashes to hell!”

Quentin feels a laugh slip out despite it all. His son. A delight. And dramatic just like him. Ock raises an eyebrow at him and speaks again, interrupting Harry’s tirade.

“We’re hanging up now. Any final words.”

A pause.

“Mea luna. I asked for what was promised and you gave it to me. And that means more to me than anything else dad. I love you.”

And Ock hangs up.

“Mea luna? My moon? What does that mean?”

But Quentin is collapsing into sleep. He could not answer the question even if he wished to.

[phantomfairs]

Tony Stark and Pepper Pots from cascading smokefall! Tony Stark is a wet rat. I love it.

[dead-as-i-tread]

Burnt Norton II

Garlic and sapphires in the mud Clot the bedded axle-tree. The trilling wire in the blood Sings below inveterate scars Appeasing long forgotten wars.

The dance along the artery The circulation of the lymph Are figured in the drift of stars Ascend to summer in the tree We move above the moving tree In light upon the figured leaf And hear upon the sodden floor Below, the boarhound and the boar Pursue their pattern as before But reconciled among the stars.

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards, Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point, There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where. And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time. The inner freedom from the practical desire, The release from action and suffering, release from the inner And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving, Erhebung without motion, concentration Without elimination, both a new world And the old made explicit, understood In the completion of its partial ecstasy, The resolution of its partial horror.

Yet the enchainment of past and future Woven in the weakness of the changing body, Protects mankind from heaven and damnation Which flesh cannot endure.                                           Time past and time future Allow but a little consciousness. To be conscious is not to be in time But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden, The moment in the arbour where the rain beat, The moment in the draughty church at smokefall Be remembered; involved with past and future. Only through time time is conquered.

[tinfoildemon]

hellowwwwoo millionth annoying account for stupid freaks mostly venting or dying or goofing smokefall ->kidneyofdoom is the liker

scared of everyone we don't know even ourselves suffering from [redacted] and [redacted]

[quietflorilegium]

“To be conscious is not to be in time But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden, The moment in the arbour where the rain beat, The moment in the draughty church at smokefall Be remembered; involved with past and future. Only through time time is conquered.” 

T.S. Eliot, "Burnt Norton," "Four Quartets"

[bonefall]

Was Squilf happy that her apprentice got with her grandchild? Did she set them up/is it common in BB for older family members and mentors to "recommend" mates? Not like an arranged marriage thing but more like your aunt going "you know my old apprentice Dudeheart, well, he has a son that's such a bright and courteous young man, I really think you two might have a lot to talk about"

It's SUPER common, probably making up a solid percentage of matches-made. That's just how it is in a society that heavily values making connections between its members; everyone's got The Auntie who's trying to introduce you to handsome and responsible suitors.

Rosetail actually paired up her son Redtail with Runningwind. I feel like she was a great matchmaker in her time, but I haven't yet picked any others she paired up. Maybe Lionheart and Frostfur! That could be cute!

But I'm not sure if Squilf did matchmaking for Spark and Holly. They were actually kithood friends and had the seeds of romance long before they blossomed.

When Sparkpelt explains this to Nightheart someday, she'll describe it as something that was always there, as right as the drops that slumber within a fat cloud. Even before it drizzles, its nature is simply to rain.

[erps-kwerpse]

BURNT NORTON

(No. 1 of 'Four Quartets')

Time present and time past

Are both perhaps present in time future,

And time future contained in time past.

If all time is eternally present

All time is unredeemable.

What might have been is an abstraction

Remaining a perpetual possibility

Only in a world of speculation.

What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is always present.

Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose-garden. My words echo

Thus, in your mind.

But to what purpose

Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves

I do not know.

Other echoes

Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?

Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,

Round the corner. Through the first gate,

Into our first world, shall we follow

The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.

There they were, dignified, invisible,

Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,

In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,

And the bird called, in response to

The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,

And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses

Had the look of flowers that are looked at.

There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.

So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,

Along the empty alley, into the box circle,

To look down into the drained pool.

Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,

And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,

And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,

The surface glittered out of heart of light,

And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.

Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.

Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,

Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.

Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind

Cannot bear very much reality.

Time past and time future

What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is always present.

II

Garlic and sapphires in the mud

Clot the bedded axle-tree.

The trilling wire in the blood

Sings below inveterate scars

Appeasing long forgotten wars.

The dance along the artery

The circulation of the lymph

Are figured in the drift of stars

Ascend to summer in the tree

We move above the moving tree

In light upon the figured leaf

And hear upon the sodden floor

Below, the boarhound and the boar

Pursue their pattern as before

But reconciled among the stars.

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;

Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,

But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,

Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,

Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where.

And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.

The inner freedom from the practical desire,

The release from action and suffering, release from the inner

And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded

By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving,

Erhebung without motion, concentration

Without elimination, both a new world

And the old made explicit, understood

In the completion of its partial ecstasy,

The resolution of its partial horror.

Yet the enchainment of past and future

Woven in the weakness of the changing body,

Protects mankind from heaven and damnation

Which flesh cannot endure.

Time past and time future

Allow but a little consciousness.

To be conscious is not to be in time

But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden,

The moment in the arbour where the rain beat,

The moment in the draughty church at smokefall

Be remembered; involved with past and future.

Only through time time is conquered.

III

Here is a place of disaffection

Time before and time after

In a dim light: neither daylight

Investing form with lucid stillness

Turning shadow into transient beauty

With slow rotation suggesting permanence

Nor darkness to purify the soul

Emptying the sensual with deprivation

Cleansing affection from the temporal.

Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker

Over the strained time-ridden faces

Distracted from distraction by distraction

Filled with fancies and empty of meaning

Tumid apathy with no concentration

Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind

That blows before and after time,

Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs

Time before and time after.

Eructation of unhealthy souls

Into the faded air, the torpid

Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,

Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,

Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here

Not here the darkness, in this twittering world.

Descend lower, descend only

Into the world of perpetual solitude,

World not world, but that which is not world,

Internal darkness, deprivation

And destitution of all property,

Desiccation of the world of sense,

Evacuation of the world of fancy,

Inoperancy of the world of spirit;

This is the one way, and the other

Is the same, not in movement

But abstention from movement; while the world moves

In appetency, on its metalled ways

Of time past and time future.

IV

Time and the bell have buried the day,

The black cloud carries the sun away.

Will the sunflower turn to us, will the clematis

Stray down, bend to us; tendril and spray

Clutch and cling?

Chill

Fingers of yew be curled

Down on us? After the kingfisher's wing

Has answered light to light, and is silent, the light is still

At the still point of the turning world.

V

Words move, music moves

Only in time; but that which is only living

Can only die. Words, after speech, reach

Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,

Can words or music reach

The stillness, as a Chinese jar still

Moves perpetually in its stillness.

Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts,

Not that only, but the co-existence,

Or say that the end precedes the beginning,

And the end and the beginning were always there

Before the beginning and after the end.

And all is always now. Words strain,

Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,

Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,

Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,

Will not stay still. Shrieking voices

Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering,

Always assail them. The Word in the desert

Is most attacked by voices of temptation,

The crying shadow in the funeral dance,

The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera.

The detail of the pattern is movement,

As in the figure of the ten stairs.

Desire itself is movement

Not in itself desirable;

Love is itself unmoving,

Only the cause and end of movement,

Timeless, and undesiring

Except in the aspect of time

Caught in the form of limitation

Between un-being and being.

Sudden in a shaft of sunlight

Even while the dust moves

There rises the hidden laughter

Of children in the foliage

Quick now, here, now, always—

Ridiculous the waste sad time

Stretching before and after.

- T.S. Eliot

[crowstar-s-warriorworld]

random facts about kittypet thunderclan

all of Onewhisker(star)'s kits are biologically mothered by Smokefall(Ruby/Smoke), they have a horrible on-and-off relationship. Icefrost(Tiny/Scourge) and Morningflower are rooting for a final divorce, Shadestreak(Socks) antagonizes Onewhisker at every border patrol/gathering/etc. he sees him at, and poor Fireheart just wants to be left out of the situation.

Morningflower was forced to be a Shadowclan warrior when Windclan was chased out, she sheltered with her kits in Thunderclan after the Thunder kits were picked up and rejoined Windclan when they were brought back(she went to pick them up with Fireheart, Greystripe, and Icefrost). Ashfoot was also a temporary forced member of Shadowclan with Eaglekit, the trauma of Shadowclan left a huge impact on Eaglekit influencing him to become a medic.

Since they never faced Windclan's starvation in exile, Eaglekit, Stork-kit, and Quailkit all live.

Morningflower and Icefrost are close friends, Gorse, Stork, and Quail see Icefrost as a father figure.

Ashfur was Icefrost's first apprentice, he certainly influenced him, rather or not that was a good thing is debated by many a cat.

When Tigerclaw(star) takes over Shadowclan and tries to convince the other clans to join them, Icefrost, Ashpaw, Morningflower, Ashfoot, Eaglepaw, and a few others have to be removed from the gathering due to their reactions.

---

Family trees and timelines are melted and reforged to my liking.

Brindleface, Redtail, and Runningwind are in a relationship, yes this means Tigerclaw(star) killed a whole polycule.

Cricketkit and Featherkit are Redtail(bio Willowpelt) x Runningwind kits.

Sandstorm is a Brindleface x Redtail kit.

Ashfur, Ferncloud, Elderberrykit, & Tulipkit are Brindleface x Runningwind kits.

[crooked-smile-girl]

I posted 327 times in 2022

140 posts created (43%)

187 posts reblogged (57%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@quotemadness

@ex0skeletal-undead

@smokefalls

@thecollectibles

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I tagged 115 of my posts in 2022

#crookedsmilegirl - 93 posts

#mental health - 86 posts

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Longest Tag: 27 characters

#supraventriculartachycardia

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I’m so tired here

In this pretend existence

I own

Nothing of value

No friends that care

None I can speak of anyway

Without a tone of despair

The only ones who’ve ever loved me

Have never met me

The only ones who truly care

I can’t admit to their existence.

My birthday comes and goes

As just another day

But a few true friend reach out

As a secret

As silence

To keep him unaware

The fake ones

Come with boastful claims

Sugary substances

Absolves their absences

Until it becomes apparent

That they are all fake and liars.

Another year survived

Another year of lies

Another year of pretending

The happiness that never arrives.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

4 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

#4

I am monstrously calloused

To hear about a distant relative

Losing her “soulmate”

Everyone around me is in lament

Crying and moaning how unfair “love” is

And then there's me

Just sitting here unaffected

Trying to make it through the day

In my minds voice screaming

Shit happens.

4 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

#3

What do you do

When the bad outweighs the good

When you cry more than smile

Is there a way to survive this life?

It’s been a year since I tried to take my life

And here I am again

Pushed right up to the edge

4 notes - Posted July 28, 2022

#2

I feel like I’m drowning

In the middle of a storm ridden ocean

Fighting against the pounding waves

Of pure avoidable bullshit

I’m gasping for air

My arms and legs threaten to fail

Oh how easy it would be

To stop struggling

And just let the fuck go

But off in the distance I see

My girls and my dog

And their calling to me

So I can’t give up

I’m forced to fight

To survive this day

As well as the night.

7 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My life is darkness

With little flickers of hope

Laughter blinking lightning bugs

Anger clashes like lightening

Setting fire to the things once loved

Destructive days in downpours

Floods of tears to wash it all away

10 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[smfl]

smokefall is so swaggy an cool tho toue institute only fits a small portion of us

[togomiral]

Susannah flood actress twitter

#SUSANNAH FLOOD ACTRESS TWITTER HOW TO#

#SUSANNAH FLOOD ACTRESS TWITTER SERIES#

In this article, we explore her life, background, and career thus far, read on to learn more. Before she began her appearance on For The People, she made other appearances in shows like Chicago Fire and Deadbeat. She is hard at work building a career that could very well lead her to the top of the art. Susannah Flood plays the character, Kate Littlejohn, on the show. Among that select group of those who get to experience a career as an actor or actress is Susannah Flood, an actress who stormed onto the spotlight through her appearance in the ABC Drama, For The People. Shaped by mega industries like Hollywood, it has become an art that millions all over the world desire to partake in but very few get to experience. “Birthday Candles,” at its best, bubbles up our own cherished and difficult memories of the people in our lives who’ve come and gone.Acting is one of the most interesting, followed, and financially rewarding forms of creativity. Nonetheless, Haidle’s plays (his better “Smokefall” did not receive the production it deserved when it played New York back in 2016) have a way of convincing every audience member they’ve been written just for them. Fun, sure, but it’s awfully tough to smell nostalgic homemade dessert when you’re wearing a medical-grade mask. And - look out, Julia Child! - Messing bakes an actual cake onstage. A goldfish named Atman (“the Sanskrit word for self”) sits on the kitchen table for most of the play to lend some continuity, but it comes across as gimmick. Her youthful and elderly characterizations are too sit-com silly and the transition between ages - which should be a stellar acting showcase - is abrupt and stilted. Moments that are merely sad in director Vivienne Benesch’s production could be devastating.Īnd Haidle has his writerly indulgences, too. She crosses the finish line on likability alone, yet you can’t help but think that Ernestine is a meatier role than Messing has made it. Messing, meanwhile, doesn’t quite rise to the occasion of her one very challenging part. Susannah Flood and Debra Messing in “Birthday Candles.” Joan MarcusĮvery actor here other than Messing and Enrico Colantoni, who plays a boy who pines for Ernestine named Kenneth, deftly takes on multiple roles (John Earl Jelks plays her husband, Matt, among others). Finn, making her Broadway debut, is a talent to watch. When she chastises herself in the third person - “You ruin everything, Joan! They’re all laughing at you!” - she morphs into everybody’s strange in-law. Impressively getting more laughs than the “Will and Grace” star is the hilarious Crystal Finn as Joan, Billy’s neurotic college girlfriend and later wife. The actors who play rebellious Madeline and Billy, Susannah Flood and Christopher Livingston, storm in with tremendous humor and energy and cut through the weird, stuffy, “Philadelphia Story” act Messing is doing. The actress overdoes it playing a teen, and Haidle writes partly in metaphysical mumbo-jumbo that can be hit-and-miss.įor instance, her second line is, “In the career of my soul, how many times have I turned from wonder?” That’s a bit heady for a show’s first 30 seconds.īut “Birthday Candles,” which is set in one kitchen, shakes off the pretentiousness when Ernestine enters middle age and has children of her own.

#SUSANNAH FLOOD ACTRESS TWITTER HOW TO#

The play begins when Ernestine is 17, and is learning how to make a birthday cake with her mother - a tradition she will repeat every single year. Debra Messing, center, plays 90 years of one woman’s life in “Birthday Candles” on Broadway. That all too truthful observation about aging makes you want to run out and call grandma. The parties start out big and boisterous, and by the end of the sequence, no one is visiting her house anymore.

#SUSANNAH FLOOD ACTRESS TWITTER SERIES#

During one scene, we race through a series of her birthday celebrations in her eighties and nineties over a matter of seconds. What really packs a punch, though, are her smaller losses. Deaths, cheating and health scares are all weathered with Midwestern steeliness that hides immense pain. The name of Ernestine’s hometown, Grand Rapids, describes her rocky, unpredictable road well.Īfter every victory for Ernestine (Debra Messing) - an invitation to prom, the birth of a child, the starting of a new business - a crushing blow soon follows. Of course, when you condense nine decades into an hour and a half, both bliss and tragedy arrive faster than spam emails on a Monday. 90 minutes, At the American Airlines Theatre, 227 W 42nd Street.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

hiii friends family and concerned citizens. I have finished cascading Smokefall. and Who boy it was a fun time, won't it? so many things happened in the fic. I appreciate all the support i have been given and selfishly ask for one more hit of dopamine for these last few chapters! I sure hope people enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it, even if there were rough patches here and there. there is a authors end note at the end, giving some wrap up and other thoughts.

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“Pepper let me in. Come on kid, time to eat.”

Montana gets up and starts to exit.

“Im not a kid!”

Tony protests, following him out. Good. His ploy worked.

“Sure. Don't forget to wash your hands.”

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