#tom redwood

[kulshedra97]

But wait, there's more! I will try to forgot I accidentally'd these on the background layer.

[biggreenstache7]

Posting my compilation of Siiva drawings i did once every day for a month (until the channel’s 7th anniversary)- Week 4

[pastafossa]

Omg I recently started watching Reacher and when I tell you I’m obsessed with that giant golden retriever man

It was heartbreaking to come here trying to read some Reacher fics and find almost nothing</3

I didn’t like the one Tom Cruise reacher movie I saw either but this show omg🤌🏻 And I’m not saying it’s because of that giant himbo but it is.

All of his fighting scenes, that scene were he breaks the cuffs made me gasp out loud, the shower scene (if you haven’t seen it yet omg👀) like I’m literally frothing at the mouth for that emotionally stunted man

THIS IS ME, after like FOUR only FOUR episodes??? AND I AM FUCKING HOWLING AND FROTHING

HE'SJUST SO HUGE AND BIG, BIG STRONG MAN, BIG AWKWARD BADASS BLONDE MOOSE OF A HANDCUFF SNAPPING ZIPTIE BREAKING HIMBO, GIANT GUN TOATING REDWOOD TREE MAN WITH EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE LEAVES, HE GAVE THAT DOG WATER AND RIBS, HIS ELBOWS ARE AT FACE HEIGHT FOR PUNCHES, MURDER THEN FRIES, HIS GODDAMN ASS IN THE SHOWER???? HE CAN FUCKING PALM MY HEAD LIKE A GRAPE, HE IS FRIDGE SHAPED AND HAS THE EMOTIONAL AWARENESS OF ONE, I FUCKING LOVE HIM WHY IS THERE NO FIC

[chantsdemarins]

🥵"Find Tom" (Part 1)

(Tom Hiddleston X Reader)

Well, I wasn't going to write another Tom fic, but I am weak. This one is honorary for the 14 Days of Valentine's Day Community project from @muddyorbsblr

It’s suggestive in Part 1, things heat up in Part 2

Maybe interested:

@lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisgoodgirl (I risk tagging you I know lol 😂) @tbhiddlestan83 @peaches1958 @mygfloki @huntress-artemiss @coldnique @simplyholl @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @goblingirlsarah @carlym @mjsthrillernp @i-stand-with-loki @filthyhiddles @wolfsmom1 @fantasyfan4life @jennyggggrrr @runningawaywithloki @lady-rose-moon @icytrickster17

(New art too!)

Sea Ranch, CA Sometime after the era fondly referred to as "Peak Tom"

The path back to his weekend rental was winding, to say the least.

Coastal sage and nubby coyote bush snagged the transparent black nylons you put on at the last minute when your winter skin looked a little too ashy for an evening event at Sea Ranch amongst the Bay Area’s artsy crowd. Your hand glided down to touch the plants along the escarpment, pulling a sprig off one of the branches with a gentle tug. Holding it to your nose and inhaling the scent, mixed with the salt misting up from the ocean below, it feels like velvet air coursing through your lungs.

You are climbing now, and you imagine by the time you get to the top of the cliff, your breath will be dangerously close to being lost. You were correct.

The view that opens before you, even in the moonless night, is more incredible than anything you could remember seeing of late. He’s way off in front of you, nervously plodding-perhaps to get inside the thick redwood doors and clean up quickly before welcoming you in. You can barely see the outline of his suit, his shoulder blades, noble triangles against the lithe of his tall frame.

He’s left a light on inside, as he nervously opens the door the light hits his face. It’s a relief to see him after what felt like 30 minutes trekking through the California coastline in borrowed Prada flats. From your side of the window, he’s impossibly handsome, untouchable. The window feels like a metaphor.

How you managed to get an interview with him at this hour, after an overly festive San Francisco film festival party, was a mystery, but he agreed when you took the chance. You’d been eyeing him all night, the last person you expected to be there, and the most interesting.

Only hours before, you’d quietly moved to the deck of the main Sea Ranch house, holding your cell phone to the pristine glittery night sky, searching for a signal to rejuvenate your bad cell service. You Googled “Tom Hiddleston” just to be sure it wasn’t Michael Fassbender.

Then when you heard someone say his name, you were clear, it was him.

It was unlike you to invite yourself into the conversation he was already having with a keen-eyed group of Brits across the room, stationed next to a looming Peter Doig painting and a roaring fire, but you did. Making a joke, dropping your cocktail napkin in your nervousness. When he picked it up mid-sentence and handed it back to you, eyes meeting yours, you knew. You waited a few moments but then told him who you were, the beat you were covering for the impossibly small publication you just started writing for. You were way in over your head.

Maybe you should have covered the state fair first, not the San Francisco film festival post-screening events. The roar of crashing waves just outside the sheer wall of glass was unnerving. You flagged down one of the servers and had another caramel-colored Manhattan with one of those big ice cubes that obscure the actual amount of alcohol. Tom did the same, eyes never leaving you.

He made a joke about the event planners saving money with the big ice cubes, “a deliberate act of malice” he said. By midnight you’d managed to find a cozy red, mostly ornamental couch, with cushions seemingly filled with lead, one shift too many caused Tom to say it first. To ask where you were staying.

You weren’t. That was the thing.

You were going to drive back to ennui filled Napa in the wee morning hours, with the marine layer locked in place, a challenge even for the sober. Which you clearly were not.

*Tom would later correct your pronunciation of ‘ennui’ when you used it in conversation, this may or may not have created a small pause in kinetic flow between you.

He offered for you to have some tea (or coffee because you were American, he promised he drank entirely too much coffee and was an honorary American because of it). He offered to be interviewed in his weekend cliff-facing Bill Turnbull masterpiece.

He was effulgent in his offering. So much so that you worried about how he seemed determined to make a good impression on you, a stranger with no obvious pedigree to situate yourself in a status of his interest.

You made your way inside, and you were right-he is nervously cleaning up. He’d been there for less than 24 hours and somehow managed to leave his running clothes, cliff bar wrappers, and socks all over the front room. He mentions jet lag, and delayed flights on the usually reliable British Airways.

You spy at least 25 pretzel packages on the quartz counter, and you ask Tom if those were from his flight. He gives a “ehehehehehheehe” laugh and says the flight staff was worried because he didn’t like the in-flight meal.

Of course, you asked what it was, how could you not.

It turns out it was beef bourgeon with Yukon potatoes. Tom explains the ‘why’ behind his reluctance to eat the meal, but you are simply not listening anymore. You are caught up in your own anxiety. He smells like blood orange and lilac with cedar. He smells like fancy architecture. He explains the house he is staying in with precise detail, he’s giving a dissertation on the Sea Ranch movement of the 70s but you hear approximately every other word. You are caught up in little visual details between the words you hear.

The way he seems different than the man you had watched on the San Diego Comic-Con reels, the impossibly linguistically delightful rhetorician of arcane theses. His mind accosts you, but his energy seems stuck in his head. It’s unnerving.

You wonder if he is even aware of his body, your body-or how you both are sitting now on the hastily cleaned up front room couch, bare feet accidently touching in thoughtless intervals. He is still beautiful but different, something has changed. You admittedly hadn’t kept up with his work, you were essentially a Marvel adjacent fan at best, and your previous amateur journalism beat was not entertainment, or the arts beat, it was tech.

There is an old wooden clock on the wall and the hourly bell strikes pausing you both, it’s 2:00 am. You laugh to yourself when you realize it’s now February 14th. Not one for any commercialized sentimentality or strange Catholic holidays masquerading as innocuous celebrations of love, you wonder to yourself if they even celebrate Valentine’s Day in England.

You want to ask Tom, but you are careful right now, he’s overly generous and his ego seems hidden under his red beard.

He’s giving “wounded” but there’s still his gaze, his cerulean eyes are boring holes through you. His skin is too golden when spring is still a few months away, it contrasts against his button-down shirt which is unbuttoned quite far. His pants aren’t two sizes too small like you remember him wearing to press events before, but they are still tight, they hug his thighs like neoprene, they are too distracting, you can’t ask if they have Valentine’s Day in London. You’ve never even been to the UK. Your blank passport is a spectral vision hanging over your head, you are a ghost covered with a bedsheet.

You debate a few more long, ponderous minutes before you finally ask if they celebrate Valentine’s Day in England. Tom wonders why you are asking. You remind him-today is now Valentine's Day. He laughs and explains America is much more theatrical than England-Brits don’t fall for heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.

You say, “So what do you guys fall for then?”

“Intelligence.”

You die a little. That’s it. You’ll never get your interview questions out of your mouth, and you may want this to end romantically. Any warm-blooded human would-when faced with the charm of Tom Hiddleston-even if it’s slightly redacted. Even if it’s like the big monolith ice cubes from the party earlier, somehow obscuring the ingredients.

You also want to know more about why he seems so different. You pry a little, your intuition is good enough and you can tell something happened.

Maybe it was a love affair, maybe he’s got mental health issues, maybe it’s being too famous, too known. This level of celebrity and privilege is impossible for you to sort out logically. You’ll likely never know what it feels like to have the kind of money to do anything and everything you’d ever dreamed of doing, and the charisma to attract endless people to bed.

He’s not vapid, though. At least his persona isn’t. He should be but he just isn’t Hollywood. You feel accepted by him, although you wonder how true that is, how true it could be-he comes from a world of strict judgments attached to insane amounts of money. People get exactly what they want. He’s part of that beast. He knows it, but he seems so normal right now. He even says he hates LA. He will never live there.

As you keep talking, words are mixing. Which are your thoughts, and which are his? A prelude perhaps to how he is in bed, all-consuming, immersive. He pulls you in, and you feel invigorated and ready to be supine all at once. Your body slinks down the cushions until you both are sitting on the plush rug, backs against the bottom of the couch.

Tom stares at you with the intensity of an SLS rocket launcher (the knowledge of an SLS rocket launcher is the byproduct of your last beat before entertainment and after tech-military weaponry). He stares at you like he owns you. Like there’s a collar around your neck. You check for a second just to be sure, running your chrome-colored nails against your throat.

Maybe that’s what he is struggling with, having too much pleasure and too much happiness. He’s laying low, attending minuscule film festival after parties in Northern California. Talking to a woman like you at 2:30 am, you feel much like the high tide outside the endless glass windows, disoriented by the lack of the moon's influence.

You close your eyes for just a second, and you can hear his voice mixing with the waves, the alcohol you’ve consumed, and his generous pours of the local wines he was gifted from the nebulas of vintners at the party. He can’t take them back to London, so “we better drink up,” he laughs again, emptying the second bottle into your vintage glass.

Are you holding it from the stem or the cup? Your grip is too tight, you notice. You try and hold the glass with less pressure, but your hands are like talons. If you weren’t holding on to a wine glass, surely it would be Tom’s cock.

Which you had spied the last time he got up to grab another bottle of wine, his jacket tossed on the chair to reveal his form with even more clarity. Although you tried not to look, it was difficult to miss. You assumed he wasn’t even hard yet, too lost in conversation.

You pondered if this was his thing, hooking up casually. It wouldn’t be surprising, but he was just so nice and sincere in all his actions it was hard to sift out the carnal jock with rugby stories from college and pick-up games in his London neighborhood to the starry-eyed poet delivering such lines as:

"When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”

By the time the last comp wine was consumed and the waves outside drifted back into low tide, you knew it was now or never.

He hadn’t touched you, not even tried; you were just left with the pleasurable burn from his boyfriend experience. You could feel the wheels turning in his mind. Perhaps he was wondering if he should be less caring, should you get too attached to his attention, his cerulean stare. He couldn’t be. Otherwise, it seemed, even if he put his acting skills to work on changing what appeared to be his perpetually endearing substrate.

He grabbed your wine glass from your hand, and you cautiously released it, wondering about your previous thought of what your hand would grab if it wasn’t a wine glass.

He gently placed his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed. Good god he smelled like heaven. Like signed contracts, like large claw foot bathtubs with a view of the Mediterranean Sea. He smelled like ginger and carrots and felt warm and hard simultaneously.

His skin was soft, but his features, like his triangle shoulder blades and his nose, were strong. They felt like swords piercing your skin. You were slayed by his bone structure even before he put his cock inside you.

You hoped it would be comfortably nestled between your legs by the time the sun began to rise over the luxuriant rock wall the house rested upon. Societal norms, class expectations, and personal relationships be damned. The wine and your own ennui fueled your longing for him—

Continue on to-

Part 2

[the-last-command]

I’ve been thinking about changing Redwood’s faceclaim from Ben Daniels to Tom Berenger.

[taminoarticles]

— Tamino for Style Magazine Italia, June 2023 (x) (x)

Tamino returns to play in Italy: “The warmer the countries are, the warmer the audience"

The singer will perform at the Rocca Malatestiana in Cesena on July 4th and at the Spazio 211 in Turin on July 5th. "In Italy I always like to play," he says. But "in reality it scares me to meet too many people.” A true hero of introverts.

By Pier Andrea Canei June 15, 2023

The soundcheck is over, Alcatraz sold out, a thousand Milanese waiting to see the star of the evening: the Belgian-Egyptian singer Tamino. He relaxes behind the scenes, drinks green (tea) and wears black (Armani): like a 26-year-old prince of darkness. He has gentle manners, and a voice that vibrates on a broad spectrum. From the dark depths (the school is the one that goes from Leonard Cohen and Jacques Brel to Jeff Buckley and the alt-rock genre called “shoegaze”: emo tones, monochord guitars) to an angelic falsetto.

Soon, Tamino will go out there on stage and, without doing ballets or stepping on flowers, almost motionless except for when he holds his oud (a lute of the Arab tradition), he will attract attention. He is hieratic, with the charisma of a crusader of introverts, quiet people, and young romantic heroes; what allowed him to create a following that goes from [sic], (Colin Redwood [sic], former bassist of Radiohead, left Thom Yorke's group to follow him through studios and tours) up to the Arab world, from which it takes up sounds and instruments.

Tamino: Style's interview

Amir, the title of your first album and your middle name, means "prince" in Arabic. Were you raised as a little prince?

Well, I don't think so. Princes lead a very controlled life, lots of rules, discipline. I had a free childhood.

For the idea of calling you Tamino, like the young prince in Mozart's Magic Flute, we should thank your mother, Eva (de Pauw, anthropologist, hobby musician, passionate about cultures). What was it like growing up in Belgium?

Inspiring in many ways: lots of good art, music, art movements. From the Surrealism of René Magritte, to the music of Tom Barman's dEUS, a band that has opened many doors to the alternative scene. Then there are the negative sides in the social culture: in Belgium we tend not to value the potential of others... We are made like this, we like to see ourselves laying low, leveling ourselves up.

You realized this as soon as you finished compulsory school and left to study music in Holland.

It was an enlightening and difficult experience. From cool Antwerp designers to Amsterdam street style. Two hours by train and you land in another world. I wanted to shake off the provincial part of Belgium.

Habibi: I needed love

And your first hit song was born right in Amsterdam, in 2017: Habibi ... an Arabic and universal word of love.

You can say it to your loved one, to good friends, but also to a waiter: “Come here habibi, bring me a coffee”... Well, during the first days in Amsterdam I was depressed, very lonely, it was difficult to find human ties. I was looking for warmth, love: that piece came from there.

Of that vagueness that generates universality...

I think back to a title from the Talking Heads: Stop making sense. When you write lyrics for a song, you don't have to chase a precise meaning. Better ask yourself if your words convey the right feelings.

Typically Tamino: the yearning, the nostalgia. Songs like Indigo night: nocturnal, brooding, even melancholy. You recognise yourself in it?

I certainly tend to ruminate on things a lot. Too much...

An app to free yourself from the ego

And how do you free yourself from it?

Meditation helps. I also use a specific app, Waking Up: Beyond Meditation. Ten minutes a day is enough. It helps me to free myself from the ego, to feel myself a witness of thought, of consciousness. Simply necessary. More than diet or physical training.

Sahar, the title of the second and most recent album, means "at the crack of dawn."

For me it is already part of the past: the last words I sing are “before I step into darker days”...

That is: “Prima d'inoltrarmi in giorni più oscuri.”

I mean: before facing new torments, new struggles. What helps you grow is discomfort. That's the challenge. Never be afraid to step into the unknown.

Out of the comfort zone...

I like spending some time in New York. I stay out of my own comfort zone, it's not comfortable for me. And doing so inspires me.

Lone sailor

In the video for Sunflower, a duet with the singer Angèle, you have the air of a romantic hero. Do you want to act?

In that video I enjoyed interpreting, even without lines, this figure of the lonely sailor. This was an idea from the director. I've only done a little theater and at most a few sailing trips with friends.

Would you be a testimonial for a perfume?

Well, yes, under the right conditions... For example, a prestigious operation like the Bleu de Chanel campaign with Gaspard Ulliel, with that spot directed by Martin Scorsese.

A spot that stylises the clichés of a rock star life: glamorous places, flashes, meetings with crazy people...

In reality it scares me to meet too many people. I'm a very lonely guy. Even though I’m finding it easier and easier for me to make connections lately, I steer clear of glam dinners or events.

Then you spends the whole summer on the road

I have fun at festivals. My favourite is Into the Great Wide Open, on the island of Vlieland, Holland: 10,000 people, zero cars, music, love and kindness.

Your summer also includes two Italian stages.

I always like to play in Italy. The warmer the countries, the warmer the audience.

I live in Türkiye

Who knows in the Middle East, or in Africa.

We do the biggest lives in Turkey: crazy crowds. And Egypt is like coming home: you feel that for the people it is more than just a concert.

Your surname is famous in Egypt. Your grandfather Muharram Fouad was a musical star, your father started out as a performer.

It's like an Egyptian dynasty of music. A fun fact about me being a huge Lord of the Rings fan is that I've always felt like Aragorn, the legitimate heir to the Elven throne, who travels incognito. Nobody ever knows who he is. I felt like this growing up in Belgium. It was never talked about, nor was there much money, and that side of the family has only emerged now that I'm better known.

Who among the main names would you bring next to you at the festival of your dreams?

I don't even know if I would put myself among the top names... I'd like Anouar Brahem, Tunisian, master of the oud. And then something electronic, maybe the Aphex Twins. And I dream of working with Massive Attack.

Many festivals. But never a festive song?

I should write one first. But generally gloomy, tenebrous things come out to me.

Let's say you sing one happy song and save the world; which one do you choose?

I don't know if a happy song could save the world. Lou Reed's Walk on the Wild Side?

The height of happiness.A matter of feeling: a song can be sad in itself, but make you feel good. A glimmer of hope, an air of comfort. It can wrap you in emotions. Maybe you're sad, and that's okay: because you feel alive. A song full of life: well, for me it will always be a good song.

[kontextmaschine]

I am trying to learn about whitewashing wood, because making part of the exterior-facing fence white where it's shaded in under a 40yo coast redwood would reflect enough light for better growing conditions on Blueberry Hill.

And it is infuriating how much of the shit out there – including instructions for "whitewashing" with paint that is not in fact whitewash – is just keyword-running after some vintage farmhouse aesthetic.

I want to turn a wood fence durably white! This has to be the lindy use-case for whitewash! That was Tom Sawyer's chore!

[fan-clan-fun]

Due to the length of the submission, I'm posting it as is. It looks like a lot of work was put into this though, so good job!

SkyClan

The Generous and Excitable

Leader: Applestar — white she-cat with pale yellow eyes  

Deputy: Dawnpelt — long-haired light cream tabby tom  

Medicine Cat(s):

Larkleap — long-haired golden tabby tom 

Bluebellfur — calico she-cat with a fluffy tail 

Ambassador: Songclaw — dark-colored she-cat  

Warriors:

Stormfoot — long-haired light brown tabby tom 

Bloomfur — long-haired golden brown tabby tom 

Brookflower — long-legged pale tortoiseshell-and-white tom 

Weedsong — three-legged smoky black tom with darker splotches 

Curlycloud — very small flame-colored she-cat 

Lionstripe — deaf smoky she-cat with hazel eyes 

Sunpelt — long-haired flame-colored she-cat 

Paleclaw — battle-scarred black she-cat with amber eyes 

Storkflight — dark brown tabby tom with dark blue eyes 

Blackbelly — white tom with blue eyes 

Sleekwing — big dusky brown tom  

‎Lightningwillow — snowy white jack.

Apprentices:

Harepaw — long-haired golden tabby she-cat 

Stumpypaw — long-haired charcoal tabby she-cat  

Queens:

Leafwing — swift calico she-cat with a twisted left hindpaw and orange eyes (permanent queen) 

Thistlefoot — pale tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat (mother to Shrewkit, a red tom with a sliced ear; Crowkit, a light gray tabby she-kit; Brightkit, a long-legged smoky black she-kit; and Owlkit, a silver she-kit, all 8 moons old (apprenticeship delayed due to injury)) 

Liontail — long-haired red she-cat (permanent queen)  

Elders:

Mudstone — calico tom 

Graywish — mottled golden tabby she-cat  

Territory:

SkyClan's hunting grounds are a large mountain range covered in a dense forest. Its main trees are redwoods and firs . It is a tough and dangerous place for loners and any other cats who don't know how to survive there.

Camp:

In the treetops of a large cottonwood. The dens are in old owl's nests or woven from thin branches and padded with moss for insulation. The main gathering point is in the clearing below, which is accessible via a thick vine. There is a stream running through the main clearing, which contains plentiful fish.

Landmarks:

Treecutplace - A place where Twolegs grow spruce trees and cut them down. The place is not too dangerous, so sometimes cats go there to hunt.

Twoleg Dock - A twoleg dock off the shore of a small lake, which is usually used by them for anchoring their water monsters.

Dog Den - A sandy cave in a boulder, where a Dog has made its den. Because of this, the cave is always avoided by patrols.

Water Monster - An abandoned twoleg water monster (boat) anchored on the shore of a small river.

Traditions:

Leaders can retire, giving away all of their remaining lives except one

The clan is led by a council of the leader, medicine cat(s), ambassador and deputy

The clan is entirely made up of kittypets and loners

Beliefs:

Religion: they listen to what StarClan has to say, but ultimately make their own decisions

ANGELICACLAN

The Idiotic and Capable

LEADER

 YELLOWSTAR—a cream classic "pseudo-tabby" tom, with long fur, and green eyes.

DEPUTY

 MURKHEART—a blue she-cat, with short fur, and copper eyes.

MEDICINE CAT:

 BUZZARDSTONE—a short haired, chocolate she-cat, with amber eyes.

AMBASSADOR:

 SCOUTWISH — icy white senior tom with a heavily scarred face.

WARRIORS

CORMORANTWHISKER—a black she-cat, with short fur, and green eyes.

CROWHEART—a black she-cat, with short fur, and gold eyes.

TANSYTHROAT—a red spotted "pseudo-tabby" she-cat, with short fur, and copper eyes.

SPIDERCLAW—a black she-cat, with short fur, and copper eyes.

ROOKLEG—a short haired, black spotted tabby tom, with gold eyes.

POPPYWHISKER—a short haired, chocolate and red, mackerel calico-tabby she-cat, with green eyes.

‎Dove— spiky-furred, chocolate tortie point senior molly with a heavily scarred face and body and a seemingly permanent frown.

APPRENTICES

BEEPAW—a red mackerel "pseudo-tabby" she-cat, with short fur, and copper eyes.

SLUGPAW—a short haired, black tom, with hazel eyes.

GORSEPAW—a short haired, red mackerel tabby tom, with amber eyes.

LIMPETPAW—a chocolate and red, spotted tortoiseshell she-cat, with short fur, and copper eyes.

QUEENS

EGRETEAR—a short haired, white she-cat, with amber eyes.

COOTBLAZE—a black and red, mackerel calico she-cat, with short fur, and amber eyes.

CUCKOOSTORM—a blue she-cat, with long fur, and amber eyes.

ELDERS

FOXSTRIPE—a red mackerel "pseudo-tabby" tom, with long fur, and gold eyes.

‎‎Shatterblossom — silver classic tabby tom with a heavily scarred face, missing claws and thick fur like a lion's mane, partially deaf.

Territory:

AngelicaClan's hunting grounds are mostly made up of thick forested hills. Its main trees are sycamores and alders. The ground is covered in fallen leaves. a river runs through the center of the territory. There are mountains to the north.

Camp:

Sheltered beneath the canopy of several ancient aspen trees, providing the AngelicaClan cats with dens beneath the roots and in some low-down owl's nests. The camp is surrounded by dense undergrowth. The entrance is a fallen tree that forms a bridge over the wall.

Landmarks:

Dark Woods - A patch of dense woodland, where many strange plants grow. Prey likes to hide here, but so do bears..

Water Monster - A twoleg water monster (boat) anchored on the shore of a small river.

Heron's Barn - A small twoleg barn that is home to an aggressive loner named Heron, who often attacks clan cats.

The Salmon Stream - A wide brook which usually contains all sorts of fish, mostly Salmon, in all seasons.

The Mole Tree - An ancient cottonwood tree where many Moles live, but also a dog.

Traditions:

The clan is led by a council of the leader, medicine cat(s), and deputy

AngelicaClan has a specialized rank the Ambassador since AngelicaClan accepts any loners or kittypets who wants join they have someone help the loners and kittypets get use to the territory the Ambassador, who must be a former kittypet/loner themselves. AngelicaClan shares this rank with Skyclan   

Beliefs:

Religion: they listen to what StarClan has to say, but ultimately make their own decisions

CIDERCLAN

The Delightful and Well-developed

LEADER

‎ ‎ ‎Dandelionstar — black tabby senior jack with a dull pelt and strawberries tucked into their chest fur.

DEPUTY

‎ ‎ ‎Magnoliagrowl — gray-and-white jack with an oddly-shaped paw.

HEALERS

‎ ‎ ‎Rosefeather — young, black-and-white broken mackerel tabby jack.

‎ ‎ ‎Acorngale — freckled chocolate torbie-and-white jack.

WARRIORS

‎ ‎ ‎Splashwillow — bark brown tabby senior tom with a heavily scarred face and body.

‎ ‎ ‎Gravelprance — thin, silver mackerel tabby tom.

‎ ‎ ‎Falconbounce — mackerel tabby tom.

‎ ‎ ‎Cometfeet — pleasant, chestnut molly.

‎ ‎ ‎Flickeringstrike — lilac-ginger calico tom, virtually deaf

 ‎Pumpkinpoppy — densely-furred, silver tabby senior jack.

‎ ‎ ‎Mistletoemouse — bony, caramel-and-white jack with darker-colored ears

‎ ‎ ‎Brook — wiry-furred, cinnamon-and-white senior tom with a heavily scarred face, a long scar across his side and large ears.

 ‎‎Flamingmelody — calico jack.

APPRENTICES

‎ ‎ ‎Sailpaw — coltish, brindled silver molly.

‎ ‎ ‎Azaleapaw — copper-and-white tabby jack.

‎ ‎ ‎Dustpaw — newly-apprenticed, beige tabby tom.

NURSERY

‎ ‎ ‎Thistlefrost — honey-colored tabby molly.

‎ ‎ ‎currently caring for:

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Dancekit — lilac-and-white molly.

ELDERS

‎ ‎ ‎Heatherwish — freckled chocolate caliby jack, partially deaf.

‎ ‎ ‎Hazelflower — stout, caramel tom with a dull pelt, orange ears and faint tabby markings.

  Rainacorn — elderly, mottled caramel tom with a seemingly permanent frown, a long scar across his back and paralyzed hind legs.

Territory:

CinderClan's hunting grounds are in an abandoned twolegplace. It is very overgrown, and all of the wooden doors have rotted away. It is now mostly flooded. CinderClan is unbothered by twolegs.

Camp:

In a twoleg watch tower. The main rooms are used as dens, with the leader's den closest to the entrance. A large hole in the attic wall serves as a lookout point.

Landmarks:

The Hickory Bridge - A fallen Hickory tree that forms a bridge across a small ravine. 

Tall Willows - A large grove of very tall Willow trees that was planted by twolegs. It is home to many lapwings, but also some snakes.

Water Monster - An abandoned twoleg water monster (boat) anchored on the shore of The Carp Stream.

The Carp Stream - A brook which usually contains all sorts of fish, mostly Carp, in all seasons.

Cave - A large cavern on the side of a hill.

Traditions:

Kits are usually named after a recently deceased cat

Warriors and queens vote on important clan choices

All kits are named by the leader

Beliefs:

Religion: they have their own ancestors that they follow, called ClawClan

BARNCLAN

The Hardworking and Reliable 

LEADER

‎ ‎ ‎Voltstar — silver senior molly.

‎DEPUTY

‎ ‎ ‎Ripplegrip — agile, honey-colored speckled tabby molly.

HEALER

‎ ‎ ‎Duckspeckles — red tabby molly.

WARRIORS

‎ ‎ ‎Greenwave — freckled chestnut-and-white tom with a white leg.

‎ ‎ ‎Gladewave — tortoiseshell senior tom.

‎ ‎ ‎Mumblingwater — dappled snowy white tom.

‎ ‎ ‎Birchfluff — solid ashy gray molly.

‎ ‎ ‎Lilycinders — mottled lilly white tom.

‎ ‎ ‎Chivefish — brindled smoky black senior molly with rose petals tucked into her tail fur.

‎ ‎ ‎Flinteyes — black-and-white senior jack with a sagging pelt, a cream-colored tail tip and a cream-colored paw.

‎ ‎ ‎Slitheradder — smoky black molly with light amber eyes.

‎ ‎ ‎Stagfall — dappled beige tom with a cream-colored chest.

‎ ‎ ‎Tarbeard — lavender tabby senior molly with a dull pelt.

‎ ‎ ‎Squirrelprod — freckled caramel tom.

APPRENTICES

‎ ‎ ‎Shedpaw — coltish, mottled honey-colored-and-white molly with tiny emerald eyes, cream-colored paws and black socks.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Warrior Name : Shedfern.

‎ ‎ ‎Rainpaw — solid blue-gray tom with one crooked tooth.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Warrior Name : Rainhackle.

NURSERY

‎ ‎ ‎Boltcloud — cute, black-cream tortie point senior jack.

‎ ‎ ‎Cardinaldapples — copper senior jack.

‎ ‎ ‎currently nursing:

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Windkit — russet molly with a wide gremlin-like face.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Warrior Name : Windmist

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Briarkit — mottled russet molly with light yellow eyes, very dark tabby markings and a cream-colored chest and underbelly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Warrior Name : Briartooth

ELDERS

‎ ‎ ‎Hatchfern — elderly, honey-colored tom, completely blind.

‎ ‎ ‎Woodsong — reddish-orange jack with a seemingly permanent frown, a triangular face and large ears.

‎ ‎ ‎Bubblingash — chocolate-and-white tom with icy blue eyes and a mostly silver face, completely deaf.

Territory:

BarnClan's hunting grounds are in a series of barns and farm land with a twoleg railroad to the north.

Camp: in a large twoleg barn, the stables are used as dens with the leader's den closest to the entrance. A large window in the attic serves as a lookout point.

Landmarks:

Sleeping Monster - A sleeping monster that hasn’t moved for as long as any cat can remember.

Carrionplace - A place where Twolegs throw garbage and scraps. There are many rats there, so it is a popular hunting place for BarnClan cats.

Twoleg Railroad - A wide twoleg railway. However, it is abandoned and twoleg monsters hardly ever drive across it.

Island Rocks - A warm pile of stones near the shore of a small river. A very good hunting spot because many sparrows live there in burrows.

Tumble's Barn - A twoleg barn that is home to a friendly loner named Tumble, who often helps clan cats.

Pine's Barn - A large twoleg barn that is home to a lazy kittypet named Pine.

Traditions:

Kits are sometimes stolen from other clans and raised without knowing the truth

Warriors get to pick their own names

Beliefs:

Religion: all BarnClan cats are reincarnated when they die, so they see StarClan as impartial judges of what kind of life a cat should be reborn into, rather than ancestors

[happiestplacehq]

The following applicants have been accepted. We hope you enjoy your stay in Redwood Hollow!

Tom you have been accepted for the role of Guido Alza.

Please send in an account within 24 hours.

[thesnakerootwoods]

Year 4. October. The Thing hasn't eaten in 6 Moons...

.·:*¨༺ ⊱✿⊰ ༻¨*:·.

Events Birdswarm trips over a sharp stone, and Chaffinchflip takes him aside. Softly, he tells Birdswarm that his bad eye is getting worse.

Kestreltuft and Blossompaw saved Ferncinder from a large dog, but were badly injured.

Foghowl gives Blossompaw a friendly nudge when Serpentstar calls the young tom's name. He watches with pride as his now-former apprentice is named Blossomspots and honored for his skill.

Blossomspots has whitecough.

.·:*¨༺ ⊱✿⊰ ༻¨*:·.

Thoughts Serpentstar hopes she's leading the Clan well

Meadowfur assigns cats to border patrol

Chaffinchflip's napping

Chasingcreek is startled awake by a nightmare

Boulderheart listens to the woes of a Clanmate

Foghowl had a nightmare recently, and is still feeling paranoid

Ferncinder feels like she's going crazy

Logshiver's telling the apprentices a story...

The Thing declared that It would allow the cats of the Redwood to stay in Its forest, but sacrifices would need to be made. Should they forget to send one of their own to It, It would take an extra two. Root, the youngest of the siblings, knew that Snake, as the elder, had the most experience, and could lead the cats of the Redwood far better than they ever could. They nobly offered themself as the First Blood so the cats of the Redwood could live on....

Ospreynudge wonders what Mallowskip's thinking

Birdswarm wants to spend time alone today

Kestreltuft spars with some Clanmates

Larkcatcher looks forward to today!

Mistlestripe makes note of Hazelpaw's journey as an apprentice

Blossomspots wonders if he could kill a fox by himself

Dewpaw feels down

Frondpaw hopes his warrior name will be Frondclaw

Fruitpaw wants to know Ospreynudge better

Hazelpaw wonders how Foghowl's feeling

Doeheart shares her wisdom

Mallowskip snores in his sleep

.·:*¨༺ ⊱✿⊰ ༻¨*:·.

The Thing Must Be Fed... Larkcatcher has drawn the short stick, and has been sent on a solo patrol. He finds nothing in the forest, but he still feels... on edge.

.·:*¨༺ ⊱✿⊰ ༻¨*:·.

Patrols

Foghowl, Boulderheart, & Ospreynudge Foghowl is tempted to eat the prey he's just caught. He resits the tempation though, and goes on to catch more prey for the elders.

Mistlestripe & Hazelpaw Mistlestripe suggests this could be a good chance to teach Hazelpaw some new fighting techniques! They have a good practice session together, and Hazelpaw soaks up all of Mistlestripe's tips and tricks.

Chasingcreek, Ferncinder, & Dewpaw The patrol looks for something to hide their scent while they hunt. They can't think of anything that would work, but the hunt goes well regardless.

Chaffinchflip & Frondpaw As the pair stroll through SnakerootClan territory, Fruitpaw starts to chatter about star signs. Oh StarClan not again, Chaffinchflip thinks. He may actually start crying. What is it with apprentices and star signs.

Birdswarm, Logshiver, & Fruitpaw The patrol scents blood and follows the trail to find a cat cowering under a bush, eyes wide and jaw bleeding badly. Fruitpaw is quick to reassure the trembling she-cat that they mean no harm, and would she like to come back to camp where it's safer? She quietly agrees, and introduce herself as Bitterdusk.

[roselinbooks-official]

Redwood: What's the biggest thing in the story, whether a thing, a place, or a problem, something that seems impossibly big?

Answering for The Alliance Saga:

The weight of responsibility.

Each of the main characters are carrying a huge responsibility on their shoulders. For Dawnfrost, it's the burden of eventual leadership, knowing she's destined for greatness but she is limited in what she can do right now. Similarly, Goldenpelt is destined for power but also craves approval from the authority figures above him on the hierarchy and feels an immense responsibility to uphold their--but especially Forestleaf's--legacy.

For Spottedshadow, it's the responsibility to her moral compass; her intense need to do the right thing, even when everyone around her disagrees and accuses her of being selfish.

Wildfur has just become a Mentor, very unexpectedly, and is now tasked with training and bringing up a young tom he knows next to nothing about with limited guidance and experience.

Wolfthorn carries the burden of knowing a horrible truth, and the moral responsibility to share that truth, but also needing to bide his time until he has the allies and proof necessary to defend himself from the counter-accusations that will inevitably follow.

[wc-whentomorrowcomes]

REDCLAN LORE

NAME ORIGIN:

Named for the redwood forest the clan lives in

CAMP:

A circle of hollowed-out redwood trees surrounding a fallen trunk that the leader sleeps in and gives their announcements from. The leader’s den itself is under the tree trunk, dug out by Lark himself, and the entrance is covered by vines and hanging lichen.

THE FOUNDER:

A ginger and white tom named Lark was the first leader of Redclan. Alongside Rowan, he brought his cats to the forest and settled down, and was generally regarded as a friendly, open-minded tom.

TRAITS VALUED:

Confidence

Combat Prowess

Level-headedness

Courage.

TRAITS DISCOURAGED:

Cowardice

Aloofness

Disorganization.

ATTITUDE/CULTURE:

Generally the most militaristic clan, Redclan is the largest (physically and population-wise) clan in the wild.

They put a lot of focus and weight on fighting in training and expect their cats to be able to defend themselves both with claws and with words.

Redclan has a “Keep moving forward” mentality, and when a cat dies they don’t put a lot of focus on grief and mourning. Apart from the remembrance day they have for the recently deceased, and the funeral itself, the clan doesn’t put a lot of focus on grief.

The clan is typically a little emotionally mute, and while not cruel to cats with mental illness and grief, they aren’t the most educated on how to help (they’re uneducated and unsure but most cats still try to understand.)

The clan also has an interesting way of handling relationships/kittens. Queens are given their privacy and are never forced to reveal the father of their offspring, and it’s not too often that fathers are involved in their kittens’ lives (though there are some families where the father is. It just depends on the family.)

Despite their traditional outlook on clan life, they are one of the clans most open to outsiders. To them, blood isn’t the biggest thing, as long as you can hunt and hold your own in a fight.

Male queens are also welcome in the clan’s nursery as guards and also to help raise the kits.

Redclan believes in Starclan, but their idea of Starclan is a little different than the other clans. Redclan believes in the star-path, the broad and winding trail of stars in the sky over their territory, that they believe their ancestors get to walk after they die. The belief stems from their founder, Lark, who was a wandering soul at heart and whose dream afterlife was to travel forever.

TOURNAMENTS AND GAMES:

Redclan in the past has held a lot of tournaments within their clan, both as a way for the leader to assess all their warriors and as a for-fun competition for the cats themselves.

They’re tested in hunting, climbing, stealth, fighting, tracking, and their teamwork skills, and games like capture the flag and hide and seek have been played to assess the clan’s reflexes and general abilities.

A tournament hasn’t been held in a while, however, not since Dovestar’s reign.

FUNERALS:

Redclan doesn’t have a typical vigil-and-burial like you’d expect. Instead, Redclan burns their dead by the river and sends the ashes down the river in makeshift boats made from leaves. What they do is they take bundles of leaves and sticks from the moor near their woods and lay it all under the body to help it light. As the fire burns, the oracle recites prayers and well wishes over the cat’s body, sometimes with the witnesses to the funeral pyre joining in.

After they send the cat’s ashes down the river, they return to camp for their mourning period, and dedicate the day to rest, grooming, and keeping the dead’s memory alive. In this clan, the deceased’s kits are the first to be offered to carry the funeral torch (assuming they have kits). If not, the offer is then made to the cat’s mate, then their siblings or parents if they are still alive, and then if not the torch is handed to a close clan mate or friend. If none are possible, the torch is carried by the clan’s oracle.

BEAUTY STANDARDS:

Redclan is typically the most interested in larger cats, whether that be cats who are well-muscled or cats who are just round. They find tabbies the most attractive, alongside cats who are red, ginger, and brown.

COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE:

In Redclan, courtships are private but sweet, with lots of flowers and small gestures to show affection. When a cat wishes to begin courting another cat, they typically make their feelings known by presenting a bouquet of Alyssum flowers. Their territory is bountiful of them, and it’s a common date area to take the cat you like to hang out by the Alyssum bushes due to their sweet scent.

Proposals are rather simple too, with the courting pair going out separately to find the cat’s favorite flowers to weave into a bouquet or wreath for their partner to wear.

PREY:

Doves

Swallows

Sparrows

Shrews

Wrens

Quails

Rats

Mice

Moles

THE COUNCIL:

The council is how Redclan makes most of its decisions.

It consists of:

The Leader The Oracle The Medic The Queens/Kings The Elders:

The clan has in recent times adopted a more democratic system. Instead of the Leader calling all the shots, the council must make the decisions on what to do. They decide on the next leader after the previous leader dies, ceremonies/apprentice names, whether they should attack another clan and other things of that aspect. This was established after cats in Redclan’s history like Thunderstar and Dovestar almost led the clan to ruin because of their greed and pride. It’s hoped to be a system that will keep them from repeating history.

[alaezasmystery235]

My Wand

Redwood wand with Dragon heartstrings 13 inches Pliant flexible

REDWOOD Wand (rare) 

Favors those who are sturdy, proud, determined, arrogant and multi-talented.

This wand works best with those who are accomplished in all manner of magical skills and talents. However, such wands are less effective when used by someone skilled in a non-wand based art of magic.

It is one of the best wands to use in Dueling spells (defensive spells mostly) and Transfiguration and Dark Arts.

This wand type is seen among all the Houses of Hogwarts, but has a particularly strong affinity with both House Hufflepuff and House Ravenclaw.

Side Note(s) : Wand-quality redwood is in short supply, yet constant demand, due to its reputation for bringing good fortune to its owner. As is usually the case with wandlore, the general populace have the truth back to front: redwood wands are not themselves lucky, but are strongly attracted to witches and wizards who already possess the admirable ability to fall on their feet, to make the right choice, to snatch advantage from catastrophe. The combination of such a witch or wizard with a redwood wand is always intriguing, and many wizards and witches, including Ollivander himself, generally expect to hear of exciting exploits when Ollivander sends this special pairing out from his workshop. Redwood wands are not only extremely hard, but extremely powerful in all wand-based magic. Redwood wands are quite abysmal when used in Potions. Will exclusively bond with an owner that is experienced in wand-based magic.

Dragon Heartstring Core

Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells.

 Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types.

Although they are the most common core among Dark Wizards and Dark Witches, they are most certainly not their most common users.

Dragon Heartstring cores are by far the most common wand core amongst Slytherins, but their power often bonds well to Gryffindors and Ravenclaws as well .

Known Owners of Dragon Heartstring Wands

Hermione Granger , Viktor Krum , Bellatrix Lestrange , Gilderoy Lockhart , Lucius Malfoy , Minerva McGonagall , Garrick Ollivander , Peter Pettigrew.

Length 13 inches

" In my experience, longer wands might suit taller wizards, but they tend to be drawn to bigger personalities, and those of a more spacious and dramatic style of magic. ” -‐---------- Ollivander

Example :- Tom Marvolo Riddle aka Lord Voldemort

Pliant Flexible

A wand with this flexibility will warm up easily to just about anyone; although, its full potential will not be unlocked until its owner has reached his or her full potential as well.

This wand’s talents will depend solely upon the owner’s own talents, and its weaknesses will depend solely upon its owner’s weaknesses.

Pliant wand owners are eager, enthusiastic, and tend to be very easily impressed and/or naive.

They often have a zest for life that is rare and unrivaled in most populations.

" In my experience, longer wands might suit taller wizards, but they tend to be drawn to bigger personalities, and those of a more spacious and dramatic style of magic.”

------------- Ollivander

Alaeza 🌸 @alaezasmystery

[ourunmei]

Elvyra Riddle

How she is described in the books Vs who would be casted (Emily Rudd)

"Monsters aren't Born...They are Created."

Name: Elvyra Riddle Also Known as: El, Ellie, Riddle, Annoying witch, Mudblood, Daughter of the Dark lord. Title(s): Heir of Slytherin Born: June 6th 1980 (Gemini) Blood Status: Half-blood Nationality: English Species: Human Gender: Female (She/Her) Height: 5'4 Hair Colour: Black Eye Colour: Dark brown Skin Colour: Pale Family Members: • Tom Riddle II (father) † • Fay Riddle (née Lestrange) (mother) † • Coriander Riddle (Older Brother) † • Destiny Cerbus (Adoptive Mother) • Merton Cerbus (Adoptive Father) • Potter Family (Distinct Cousins) Boggart: Fire (Very specifically a house fire) Wand: 11¼", Redwood, dragon heartstring Patronus: Albatross

Personality

ENFP| Clever| Cunning| Curious| Mischievous| Sympathetic| Ambitious| Cynical| Adventurous

Even with her roots Elvyra strays very far from her father. Elvyra may be abit cynical; having trouble trusting those around her; If her father was a monster what stops others? She is very cautious around new people. She avoids coming off as rude and tries her best to be kind. She keeps the secrets of other why keeping hers to herself. She gets along with many of her peers on a surface level but rarely calls any of them "Friends".

She gets bored easily so her biggest pass time is pulling pranks and causing mischiefs around Hogwarts. Casting jinx on them when no one is watching, making up rumors, turning spaghetti into worms, dungbombs, making shampoo smell like vomit, and leaving magic fire works in the bathrooms. She got her fair share of detention but most of the time she got away with all her pranks.

Elvyra was always very eager to talk and meet new people her age. She didn't have any chances when she was younger even with her adoptive parents. When she learns Harry knows parseltongue, she wanted to talk to him more about it. She is so curious about him after and actually offers to talk in parseltongue to each other like it was a secret language between the two of them.

Elvyra sympathizes alot with Harry; they were both orphans, affected by you-know-who, both are treated different once people know, and how they are treated by their parents. She offers to let Harry talk about his home life and how some people treat him different or weird.

During the TriWizard cup; she was jealous of Harry! She wanted to join but believed Harry didn't want to join or attest didn't put his name in the cup.

Elvyra has a big problem with authority; when Umbridge comes to Hogwarts it was the worst. She never understood why the other slytherins stood by her; Elvyra took her as a threat to her own self preservation. She joined Harry's army without question.

Trivia

- She has a salamander that has transparent skin so everyone can see its bones. His name is slippy and he is also a trouble maker. - Slippy is NOT allowed at hogwarts but he smuggled in her trunk - Parseltongue - Elvyra and Harry have a very cute brother-sister like relationship (they are cousins) - Knows more Jinxs than Charms - Her relationship with her adoptive parents is not as bad as Harry but they are both very busy wizard and Is mostly her being left alone at home and to take care of herself. - Her adoptive parents are high end wizards that travel around very often. Most of the time they are even away during the hoildays. - She barely remembers her birth mom or brother or her father. She just knows who he is due to Dumbledore telling her the story of Tom riddle. - She does not like the dark arts and wants nothing to do with any of it.

[locke-writes]

they sprout among the peonies - Michael Anania

Fruit Salad - Tom Cardy

The Violet Hour - Sea Wolf

Simple Little Things - Audra McDonald

3 Small Words - Josie and the Pussycats

The Proposal - Marla Schaffel & James Barbour

Love, Me Normally - Will Wood

If It Makes You Happy - Michael Cera Palin

Come Along - Cosmo Sheldrake

when i’m at therapy - The Blue Dinosaur

Tardigrade Song - Cosmo Sheldrake

Boyfriend - Dove Cameron

Jigsaw - Conan Gray

Spy Again - Curt Mega

Celebrate the Reckless - MAGIC GIANT

The Railroad - Goodnight, Texas

Me Myself & I - 5 Seconds of Summer

Fever Dreams - Dio

History - BONNIE PARKER

Hey Love - The Daughters of Eve

Greek God - Conan Gray

Cubs in Five - The Mountain Goats

It’s Cool - First in Flight

Welcome to the Family - Avenged Sevenfold

Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer

What’s Up? - 4 Non Blondes

There She Goes - The La’s

There She Goes - Sixpence None the Richer

I Don’t Want to Wait - Paula Cole

She’s So High - Tai Bachman

Tom’s Diner - Suzanne Vega & DNA

Mr Jones - Counting Crows

Crash Into Me - Dave Matthews Band

Collide - Howie Day

Lovefool - The Cardigans

Barely Breathing - Duncan Sheik

3AM - Matchbox Twenty

I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace

Still Ill - The Smiths

Somewhere Out There - Philip Glasser & Betsy Cathcart

My Eyes - Neil Patrick Harris & Felicia Day

The Starry Night - Starry Original Cast

Finale - Anastasia Original Broadway Cast

Keys of Life - Klaus Nomi

A Duo - Philip Glasser & Dom De Louise

It’s DeLovely - Ella Fitzgerald

Kids In America - The Muffs

867-5309/Jenny - Tommy Tutone

Fake - Oxford Remedy

Flowers Never Bend After the Rainfall - Simon & Garfunkel

You’re Dead - Norma Tanega

Nevermind - Deaf Havana

The Bad Thing - The Mysterines

If I Fail You - Dylan Saunders

Vampire Money - My Chemical Romance

Poisoning Pigeons in the Park - Tom Lehrer

Viva Las Vengeance - Panic! At the Disco

Holidays in the Sun - Sex Pistols

Let It Out - The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Cast

Inner White Girl - A Strange Loop Cast

I Love You (As Much As Someone Like Me Could Love Anyone) - Galavant Cast

Pretend to Be Nice - Josie and the Pussycats

Teenage Demon Baby - Foxy Shazam

Flightless Bird, American Mouth - Iron & Wine

When We’re Older - James Blake

Washing Machine Heart - Mitski

You Don’t Own Me - Klaus Nomi

Lightning Strikes - Klaus Nomi

Crying Is Cool - The Sonder Bombs

Redwood Reverie - Plas Teg

Go Home. Play Music. Feel Better - Michael Cera Palin

Lemon Lime Lips - Naethan Apollo

Seventeen - MARINA

Totally Fucked - Spring Awakening Cast

Along the Way - The Hunts

Istanbul (Not Constantinople) - The Four Lads

Ballroom Blitz - Sweet

Davy Crochet - The Backseat Lovers

Mother Mary - Foxboro Hottubs 

Soup is Good Food - Dead Kennedys

Valentine - The Hunts

This Time Tomorrow - Brandi Carlile

Sofia - Clairo

Oh Ana - Mother Mother

Kill the Sun - Motherfolk

One Step Ahead - Joey Richter & Curt Mega

Your Stupid Face - Kaden MacKay

This Side of Me - Toddy Walters

i had gay sex with god (it could’ve gone better) - Juno Lev

Listen on Spotify

[henryobsessed]

I posted 254 times in 2022

25 posts created (10%)

229 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sillyrabbit81

@henryobsessed

@littlefreya

@viking-raider

@michelehansel

I tagged 17 of my posts in 2022

#henry cavill - 6 posts

#instagram - 6 posts

#captain syverson - 4 posts

#august walker - 4 posts

#pegging powerpoint - 3 posts

#melot - 3 posts

#sherlock holmes - 3 posts

#walter marshall - 3 posts

#youtube - 2 posts

#stroke me henry - 1 post

Longest Tag: 29 characters

#the fallen wolves brotherhood

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Wrabbit !!

1. The Widow and the Witcher - my first story and I still cry at the end.

2. Baby Boy Henry - I loved writing Henry as a little boy hehe but I let him grow up.

3. Time for a Switch - letting my true femdom out on our soldier 😜

Now it gets hard cause how do you choose between your children

4. The Veterinarian and the werewolf - I finally wrote a werewolf story with Henry had the wolf hehe

5. The Borrower and Her Bean - I feel this one doesn’t get much acknowledgment. It was an interesting challenge writing about a 1 inch girl living in Henry’s stables home during Covid. Perspectives were interesting and difficult.

Well there you go @sillyrabbit81 bet you are surprised at what was missing 😘

10 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

#4

@sillyrabbit81

See the full post

14 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#3

Word Count: 920 words

Warning: Pure Fluff

A/N: To my beautiful @amberangel112 I wrote this for you as an apology but I'm going to post it now for your birthday. My beautiful Songbird, I only wish someday you will have a handsome man enraptured by your voice, who will sweep you off your feet.

Thanks, @sillyrabbit81 for your help and beta editing. Mwah

Candlelight flickered casting light and shade against the pallor walls. The night sky was brilliantly lit with stars; their radiant light glowed through the tall windows and added to the ambience. Men and women sat dressed in their finest silks, jewels, and ruffles, but none were finer than the King and Queen.

Sitting beside the King, Brandon should have felt big and important, but the shine in his role had lost its lustre. Instead, he now spent most of his time trying not to anger the King. In fact, the latest riots were deep in his thoughts when a sound pulled him from his ponderings. A voice, bell-like in timbre, floated around his ears and the melody soothed his mind. Looking for the source, his eyes fell on an exquisite creature. Her peach red hair was wrapped up atop her head, soft feathered earrings cascaded around her neck. The gold, ivory, and green dress with beautiful Jaccard patterns hugged her in all the right ways, igniting a desire in Charles that he thought had been long lost.

See the full post

59 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#2

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Epilogue

Word Count: 2320

Warnings: none

A/N well after a long break, hours of encouragement from @sillyrabbit81 and @amberangel112 I have finally finished this story. Keep an eye out for a one-shot about Tom and Adam.  As always comments and reblogs are welcome :) Selah

Epilogue

Jessie watched as the peaceful snowflakes coated the ground outside her window. Henry had made sure it was placed so Jessie could stay in bed and still be able to enjoy the view of the forest which now was covered in a blanket of white. The master bedroom was the first of Henry’s extensions to the house in his new role as Alpha of the Redwood Pack. It had become obvious for the couple how painfully thin the walls were in the house and so the bedroom’s construction became a priority, along with an ensuite and a nursery for their future little ones.

Within his first year as Alpha, Henry with the help of Adam and some of the ranchers from the area began the build. The stockmen were eager to assist to show Jessie that they did not support the attitudes of the few who had been against her. Next were guest quarters and then finally another couple’s room for when Adam and Tom were mated.

Jessie was so grateful for the attention to detail Henry had given in their new space, as in her last months of pregnancy she had been frequently tired and spent a lot more time in bed. Her hand rested on her eight month’s protruding belly, caressing gently, she groaned as her little one kicked hard against her bladder.

“Hey, peanut that was not nice.” A deep chuckling caught her attention, she looked up and saw her mate. Henry’s face was one of amusement. “Telling our little one off already Jess? It’s not their fault that the inn is getting too cramped.”

Jessie wanted to be cranky with the teasing but when your husband is standing with fresh coffee, bacon and eggs in hand it was hard to not smile. No matter how busy he had been, Henry continued to make sure he cared for his family, and this was just one of their morning rituals. Setting down the hot meal beside her, the doting father to be rested next to her, his hand automatically laying on her belly. The heat of his digits seemed to always draw their child’s attention as within a moment she could feel a tiny fist pump into its daddy’s palm. The broad grin and chuckle that followed every time they connected made Jessie's heart swell.

But when he turned that smile in her direction, her heart didn’t just swell, it almost stopped. Every time it confirmed that he was all hers, and he had proven that every day since that moment by the pool. She could never describe the feeling that would cascade through her body when their eyes met, and in almost twenty-eight months it had not diminished in its intensity.

Leaning down he kissed her gently, his warm lips melting into hers for just a moment before he pulled back. “You want help getting ready? Everyone is downstairs. All but Joe and Dillon, they are still on their way.”

She growled at him as he scooped her up into his strong arms. “You know I can walk Hen. I can even dress myself.”

He chuckled at her protest. “Indulge me, love, I don’t want you overdoing anything, and if you want to come to see Mum and Dad, you will let me carry you about now.”

Even with her extra weight, he still walked as if she weighed but a feather. Knowing that none of her protests would be heard she resigned herself to being babied.

Jessie rested her head against Henry’s chest, his solid heartbeat was only interrupted as the sound of her boys laughing and teasing each other reached her ears. So much joy radiated from her house now. Their house. It was their home, and right now Joe had managed, with the help of Tom and Grandma, to decorate it for the season from ceiling to floor. The staircase was wrapped in a beautiful smelling string garland, lush and green with hints of baubles and holly. The fireplace echoed the look with the addition of their stockings, all hand made by Grandma. Aunt Bet’s Holiday Village Houses nestled in the garland along the shelf. But the grandest extravagance was the Christmas Tree Adam had found that stood with the star at the top almost grazing the ceiling. Joe, Tom, Adam, and Henry had outdone themselves following Grandma’s orders as to where each bauble, wooden, metal and ceramic ornament was to be placed.

Their house radiated Christmas, but it would be unlike last year when she had been busy in the kitchen, basting the roast turkey, turning the roasted vegetables, and shooing the boys away from the pies cooling on the countertop. Instead, Grandma and Tom were doing that task, and if the smells coming from that direction were anything to go by, they had everything under control. It smelled delicious.

Henry sat on the couch, keeping Jessie on his lap. “Don’t you need to help Hen? You can leave me here.”

Henry’s face softened, they had talked at length about how her inactivity affected her moods, along with the toll this child was taking on her body. Before he had a chance to answer a commotion of laughter, muffled grumbles and guffaws drew their attention to the hallway.

Dillon and Adam teetered into the living room buried under packages. Joe followed the duo with a pleased smirk on his face as he looks beyond and eyed Jessie.

“And there is the momma.” Joe strode past the men holding the gifts and instead of helping swept in for a hug.

“Joe, what have you done?” Jessie asked, shocked by the number of gifts. Henry silently chucked behind.

Without missing a beat Joe whispered, “Now I am the vet and bringing in the money he can’t say no.” His mischievous grin held for but a moment before an innocent one masked his features and he turned back to Dillon who had just finished laying the presents under the tree.

The presents below the tree now added to the final picture, and it took Jessie’s breath away. Never had she seen this place decorated so beautifully. Even last year it had been duller as Grandma continued to mourn the death of her husband. But now, something had bought life back to the old girl, and Jessie was sure it was the pending arrival of her and Henry’s little one.

Chuckling at the group, she felt Henry pull her back against his chest. His arms rested on their child and his hot breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Can you believe this? I have never seen anything like it.”

Snuggling in against him, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Get used to it Wolfy. I think this is going to become a tradition.” Joe’s voice startled them both before he laughed and stepped out of Henry’s reach.

Just as Henry moved in an attempt to attack the mischievous Joe, the slightly flustered face of Tom popped into view.

“Dinner is ready.” The now twenty-one-year-old said with a small smile. Adam barrelled forward, moving with purpose and almost made it past Tom before he was snagged by his arm.

“Slow puppy. Wait for everyone else.” At Tom’s word’s, Adam’s face flamed red, pouted and yet he slowed in his advance. Silently laughing, Jessie with the help of Henry, stood and together they walked into the dining room.

There laid out before them was a feast!

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61 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The silver fox has returned @littlefreya @sillyrabbit81 @amberangel112

63 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Ohhh boy, just shows I didn’t write in 2022 :(