Charm and Feathers, That's Me @higharrowhottie - Tumblr Blog

Do you like raisins?

They are alright.

Send me a word or phrase and I will write a drabble inspired by it.

Ask my muse about their mental health.

Including but not limited to: mood disorders, personality disorders, PTSD, and other neurodivergences. Or just ask them how they’re doing!

onnedhiel

Lets play 20 questions, the first 20 asks I get sent I will answer, no matter how personal, creepy or sexual

Pssttt, I’m bored. Send my muse anons about anything you’ve ever wondered about them or the people in their life.

super... anti-hero??: crow-man, reenacts "the birds" by calling upon the birds to come in and assault people. turns into attacking actual bad people instead but sometimes makes them steal superheros' snacks and lunches because why not??

I am afraid I do not get the reference, but I believe I do have a calling spell...

rosy-rpmemes

Random headcanon meme!

⍤ : What does your muse’s voice sound like? Is it light? High pitched? Scratchy? Deep?

✍ : What is your muse’s handwriting like? Is it neat? Sloppy? Fancy?

☕ : Does your muse prefer coffee or tea?

⌚ : Is your muse good with keeping on schedule for meetings, appointments, or events, or are they always late? Or, are they always a bit early?

♿ : Has your muse had any injuries in the past?

☺ : What is your muse’s smile like? Do they smile often?

⚡ : How does your muse feel about storms? Are they afraid of them, or do they calm them?

⚠ : How does your muse react to possibly dangerous situations? Do they face them head-on, or do they plan out their actions first?

☃ : What is your muse’s favorite season? What about their least favorite season, if they have one?

☂ : Does your muse like rain?

☼ : Does your muse like daytime or nighttime more?

🏨 : How well does your muse sleep?

❤ : What are your muse’s thoughts on love? If they are not in a relationship, do they believe that they will ever find a perfect someone for them?

☘ : Does your muse believe in luck? How about fate?

⚯ : Does your muse have good eyesight? If not, what is it like? Are they nearsighted or farsighted? Or both? Do they use glasses? Or do they prefer contacts?

👓 : If your muse wears glasses, what are their glasses frames like?

♨ : Does your muse have good table manners? How do they feel about bad table manners?

❀ : What is your muse’s opinion about flower crowns?

♬ : Does your muse sing well? Regardless of whether they sing well or not, do they enjoy singing?

📐 : Is your muse good at math? Do they like it, or do they hate it?

♞ : What is your muse’s favorite animal?

εїз : How does your muse feel about bugs and insects?

📱 : Does your muse prefer calling or texting?

☆ : Of the sun, stars, and the moon, which is your muse’s favorite?

ツ : Does your muse prefer lots of friends, or just a few close ones?

✝ : Is your muse religious?

memeasaurus-promptus

Describe my muse as a superhero/villain!

Give them a rad call-name, powers, heroic or nefarious plans! Describe their attire, their origin story, anything at all to help!

higharrowhottie

Appointment

insertwolfjoke-blog

higharrowhottie:

“Oh I could not forget such a striking face so easily,” he replied with a grin. Flattery but honest flattery. He was looking forward to this after all.

“I confess I am more used to the old-fashioned method myself,” he admitted. “Electricity was a rarity where I am from.” He watched the werewolf bustle about and took a moment to examine his surroundings.

It was a humble place, but there was heart. And in all honesty, Qinlar still wasn’t entirely certain what this world considered a massage clinic to be. In his experience, it was typically a tent or hut with a well-trained healer. This was a bit different, but he assumed Charlie knew what he was doing.

He took the turtle mug with a nod of thanks. “I do not have a specific problem area,” he said slowly, lips twitching at the inflection on his name. “Perhaps the lower back? I do a great deal of bending and lifting lately.”

“Well, shucks,” he said simply, looking genuinely bashful about being flattered. Charlie was less used to being on the receiving end, and obviously it had been awhile, as it threw him a little bit.

Time for a quick change of subject.

“Uh, careful with that mug, now, it’s real important t’ me,” he gently warned, wearing a nostalgic look for a moment. “One o’ my nieces made it years ago– see, she used t’ make fun o’ me fer takin’ a long time t’ get goin’ in the mornin’, so…turtle. I trust ya, though.”

The werewolf put down his tea for a second and approached his client while carefully considering the lower back area, completely oblivious to Qinlar’s reaction to being called Mister Higharrow. He hummed and hawed, pressing his fingertips into key points in the small of the elf’s back while bracing the other hand over his slim belly, hopefully not hard enough to make him jolt or seize up.

“Yeah, there’s some tension in there, I reckon. Should be able to ease it up a bit, hopefully,” Charlie decided out loud, staring at Qinlar’s butt. “No rush, but when you’re done with yer tea I’m gonna need ya t’ strip down t’ almost nothin’ and park yerself on the table over there, have a laydown, get comfy. I better take a sec t’ warm up the oil, now, or y’ might end up feelin’ like a chicken cutlet gettin’ ready for breadin’!”

higharrowhottie

Qinlar smirked as he sipped his tea. Charlie was flustered by compliments. Good to know. He filed that away for future reference.

"Ah. A work of art? I am honored," he said aloud, holding the mug up for inspection. Not exactly the world's most accurate of paintings, but there was a great deal of heart to it. Charlie's niece must love him very much. Qinlar opened his mouth to say so when strong, warm hands pressed into him. He was hard-pressed to hide a shiver, but he thought he managed well enough.

"Alright," he answered, pursing his lips at a brief, absurd image of his crow form doused in oil. That was hardly a useful thought. He finished his tea as quickly as he could to banish the image and stood, carefully setting the mug on a box where it couldn't get damaged. He slipped out of his robe, carefully draping it over another box, and after a moment's deliberation, set his trews to join it. That left him with just his smallclothes, and as he laid himself on the table, he figured it'd be more polite to leave those on.

#insertwolfjoke #appointment