#but also the blue bats 9 obsession is real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizbotw · 4 years

Text

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

153 notes · View notes

nowhereclosetoit · 4 years

Text

Why “The Goldfinch” by Donna Tartt is Gay.

(Or: Why Theo is dealing with some fucking heavy internalised homophobia - that man is not straight lemme tell you that off the bat)

John Crowley and Cliffsnotes pissed me off when they said The Goldfinch wasn’t gay so I wrote a fucking long ass essay on Theo’s internalised homophobia...and I got carried away and it’s around 4,500 words so...have a read if you like!

+ I read some Goldfinch essays/analysis on here before and really enjoyed them so I thought I’d have a go!!

Be warned - it is absolute trash, I wrote it at 2am.

For context: I’m a big lesbian and have/still am dealing with internalised homophobia - so I know the motherfucker when I see it! Don’t test me, bitches!

I’m assuming we all know what internalised homophobia is so we’ll jump straight in.

The Cases of Internalised Homophobia Throughout the Novel

• Throughout the novel, Theo is subject to his own internalised homophobia and whilst it could be considered as fairly difficult to spot, it is, nonetheless, there.

• The way internalised homophobia is depicted is often in very short, brushed-over extracts which are presented sparsely throughout the entirety of the novel - this in itself is an example of internalised homophobia. Theo brushing-over any topic that is remotely gay, essentially avoiding the subject, in order to remove any link to the possibilities of homosexuality (leading towards Theo himself and the rest of the world in general) is a clear depiction of a fear to be associated or even draw near the subject that is The Gays(TM).

• This is different to straight (HA!) up homophobia as Theo is not homophobic to anyone other than himself, even though internalised homophobia can lead to homophobic behaviour towards others as well as oneself.

Theo’s Acceptance of Homosexuality - Not Regarding Himself.

Throughout the novel we broach the subject of homosexuality many a time, and the only times Theo becomes uncomfortable with dealing with it, is when it regards him. He presents a clear need to withdraw from any behaviour that could contribute towards “being gay” (as shown in Chapter 5 - Badr al-Dine: “I was going to miss them, but it seemed gay to come out and say so”) that could be seen by the outside world and does react extremely, in some cases, when confronted with having to deal with his sexuality. Otherwise, he is accepting.

(He is accepting of others but he does have a general sense of discomfort when regarding The Gays(TM) incase suspicion lays on him - this is another example of internalised homophobia, he is constantly paranoid whenever the subject is broached. Paranoid of what is not exactly clear, but then again internalised homophobia is not fuelled with logic, it is fuelled with fear, which can be the most illogical feeling to deal with).

A significant example of Theo accepting the idea of homosexuality, as long as it remains abstract and far away from him, is:

Hobie, and Theo’s relationship to him:

Theo accepts the idea that Hobie and Welty (Hobie’s “business partner”) raised Pippa together and whilst Hobie and Welty’s relationship is never explicitly depicted, we are aware of its status as a romantic relationship - Hobie and Welty lived and raised Pippa, Welty’s niece, together and Pippa also refers to Hobie as her uncle (Chapter 4 - Morphine Lollypop: “Hobie can’t do anything - he isn’t my real uncle. My pretend uncle, [her Aunt Margaret] calls him”.

Theo becomes uncomfortable when the idea is suggested to him by Boris that Hobie could be gay. (However, he eventually comes around to the idea and not caring once he ends up living with Hobie after his father dies.)

Theo’s discomfort here clearly depicts his own internalised homophobia. This is illustrated by the language he uses to describe his reactions and personal responses to the revelation as well as his responses to Boris.

Theo describing feeling “taken aback” suggests his sudden fear at homosexuality being bought up between him and Boris. This illustrates his need to get away from the topic as quick as possible, which is reinforced by the use of the adverb “swiftly”. Theo wants to “swiftly” move on from the subject regarding Hobie’s sexuality as it could, in some roundabout way that is made logical by internalised homophobia, be related to him and paint him as being gay. He then claims “I don’t know” as the swift “No” could have also implied him and Hobie could have had a conversation regarding sexuality before which also could “incriminate” him. After Boris’ response, which depicts his acceptance of homosexuality, Theo is firm in the idea of Hobie not being gay as for Hobie to be gay would be a “bad” thing in the heteronormative society we live in. The use of the adverb “uncertainly” reinforces the idea that Theo does not want Boris to perceive him or people he affiliates with as gay, despite Boris’ accepting response.

The fact Theo begins to ignore Hobie because of “Boris’ casual speculation” is another example of his internalised homophobia. Another example is also the fact the he “felt bad; [he] felt awful” – this shows how he knows that ignoring Hobie is the wrong thing to be doing, but he can’t help it because he is riddled with the feeling of fear – he can’t possibly be associated with someone else gay, he’s not sure as to why this is, but to the reader, it is clear that it is because it could paint him as being gay by association.

*Theo also accepts homosexuality in passing too, when he doesn’t have to think about it too much, e.g: “(know-it-all decorator? New Jersey housewife? self-conscious gay man?)” – C. 9, “while you were all in there, two guys, we thought we were in the shit but was only two gays, French guys, looking for restaurant—” – Gyuri, Boris’ driver, mentions this and Theo does not respond or have an internal monologue about The Gays™, it completely flies over his internalised homophobic head as he is shell-shocked from having The Goldfinch back showing that as long as it remains in the abstract and away from him, he does not care.

Theo’s relationship with homosexuality when it regards himself:

Theo does not like to be linked with anything that could possibly paint him as gay. This is a form/manifestation of internalised homophobia as this depicts behaviour that believes to be gay is “other”, not “the norm”, and a bad thing to be in our heteronormative society.

He is worried that people will perceive him as gay or lesser for having Popper with him (I think he’s a Maltese or something).

He wishes he had a dog that was more “masculine” – (less “gay”).

The fact that he says he “felt embarrassed to walk on the street” with his “completely gay” dog is another example of internalised homophobia – wanting to move away from anything that can remotely constitute to him being part of something “other” than the “norm”.

The language Theo uses to describe men flirting with him is extreme to say the least. He says that men flirting with him was “freaking [him] out thoroughly” and that he “dreaded” the “older, British” guy “always hitting on [him]”. Now, this could be perceived as just plain old homophobia, however, due to its extreme nature, it led me to believe that it is internalised. The adverb “thoroughly” depicts how disturbed Theo is by being hit on by this guy. This subsequently shows that the sense of discomfort he feels comes from a place of fear. He doesn’t want to have to respond to this guy as that would be acknowledging homosexuality regarding himself and linking himself to homosexuality.

One of the ways he justifies himself and his (none existent lmao) heterosexuality is by attempting to remove a link between himself and homosexuality. He does this by reinforcing the fact that he was slept with women in the sentence right after. He reminds the audience at the first possible instance that he can, that he is in fact not gay and sleeps with women (e.g: “one of the girls I slept with”)s

Theo’s Romantic Relationships with Women and How They Depict a Lack of Enthusiasm:

Kitsey

Theo’s descriptions of her in the book remain cold. He never seems to truly love her. We only really ever see Kitsey in cool coloured clothing (Ah! In the sky-blue?” – Theo and Kitsey’s engagement party, Chapter 10 – The Idiot), even Boris refers to her as “a bit icy to look at, no?...She – she is a lily, a snowflake! Less frosty in private, I hope?” (Chapter 10 – The Idiot).

The semantic field created by the use of “icy” and “frosty” from Boris, an outsider to Theo and Kitsey’s relationship, manages to clearly demonstrate to the audience, or anyone really looking at their relationship, that is a passionless one.

The significance of Boris referring to Kitsey as a “lily”, the traditional flower symbolic with death, is astounding as it reinforces that Theo and Kitsey’s relationship is passionless, cold, and dead.

Additionally: “Boris laughed. “And you love her, yes. But not too much.” / “Why do you say that?” / “Because you are not mad, or wild, or grieving!” (Chapter 10 – The Idiot).

“To my astonishment, she was blushing” – Kitsey is depicted as reserved emotionally by Theo throughout the novel, this contributes to his perception of her as “cold”. His “astonishment” here is at the fact that 1) She is showing emotion, an emotion that is linked to a considerable amount of vulnerability, and 2) The act of “blushing” is also linked to heat and warmth, which, Kitsey, apparently, is not.

“ruthless” – Theo also tries to portray Kitsey as “ruthless” despite the fact that in this scene, he is the crueller, colder party.

There is also another semantic field of coldness here, but this time it is Theo who wants to remain cold to Kitsey. This is symbolic of his passionless feelings for her and their relationship, removing himself from any sort of intimacy with her.

Pippa

Theo believes that he is in love with Pippa and whilst he definitely does love her platonically, he is not in love with her. He is obsessed with her. He is obsessed with Pippa in the same way he is to The Goldfinch – it’s one of the only things he has left that is able to link him to his mother, it’s one of the only things he has that can comfort him like his mother could. In short, it is something he feels vulnerable around due to it’s connection to the museum bombing, as well as his mother’s own fondness and bond with the painting. Pippa is to him as The Goldfinch was to his mother – a piece of artwork with astounding beauty. Pippa is merely something that he feels connected to, because of his mother – hence why he holds onto Pippa, as well as The Goldfinch, so tightly.

He does not love Pippa, he commodifies her. He describes her to the reader as he does The Goldfinch – (I mean the parts where he’s like UWU Her Limp! UWU Her Hair! UWU I’m Taking Her Hair Out Of The Trash! But alas, I couldn’t find them, forgive me). His love for her is obsession and Theo is even, minutely, aware of this himself.

He also feels a bond with Pippa, which is reciprocated by her, as they both lost their parental figure the day of the bombing. They were both left devastated by the loss of their parental figure – only their grief manifested in different ways. (For Pippa hers way through the physical injuries she received and having to spend time at the school for “troubled” girls in Switzerland, whereas Theo’s grief is shown through him not eating and sleeping whilst at the Barbour’s and then his drug and alcohol abuse in Vegas with Boris)

The great love he feels and shares with Pippa is clearly platonic however, he could be mistaking this love they have for romantic as a result of compulsory heterosexuality – (I’m using compulsory heterosexuality in this case as an LGBTQ+ individual feeling that they have to have romantic feelings/relations to people of the opposite gender/sex, and subconsciously forcing themselves to do so - due to the heteronormative society we live in) – but idk I’d have to look into that more.

Manifestations of Internalised Homophobia in Theo’s Behaviour/Lifestyle:

Denial/failure to acknowledge The Gay™ - see Vegas Boris relationship,

Attempts to pass as het/marrying for social approval – see marrying Kitsey, not loving her, marrying her for social approval from the Barbour’s (Mrs Barbour happy),

*Dropping out of school – see Vegas era – no work, on drugs and drunk at school, NY – works to get into early college program but doesn’t excel once he’s there, doesn’t try, takes 6 years to finish,

*Self-monitoring – the pills addiction, e.g: bit at the end where he obsessively monitors the amounts of shit he takes, his obsession with what he wears/how he appears socially,

*Substance Abuse babey! – see, the entire fucking novel,

*Suicide attempts babey! – see the end of the novel (Amsterdam) + after Amsterdam when he reveals that he’s tried before.

(All the bullets with a * I think have other reasons contributing to why Theo has those behaviours – I don’t think they’re solely because of internalised homophobia, e.g: substance abuse – a way of him going through his grief for his mother that he never really gets over because it’s a shit coping mechanism tbh)

Theo and Boris’ Relationship:

I think Theo and Boris’ relationship is the best example in “The Goldfinch” of Theo’s internalised homophobia as it covers an entire ass range of shit. For example:

Theo’s descriptions of Boris – This motherfucker goes on and fucking on about the way Boris looks like, bro we get it – he’s cute. Does he do this for literally anyone else in the novel? No (apart from his mother really but that’s on obsession not homo) – I would provide quotes, but quite frankly, this essay has gone on way longer than I anticipated and I cannot be bothered because there’s far too many for me to find.

The Moon Metaphor:

The moon represents home for Theo due to the story his mother told him. Boris is intrinsically linked to the moon. Theo couldn’t think about Pippa because “the moon was so large and clear”, cased closed.

How much Theo hates Kotku for no reason – and that’s on jealousy!

Theo and Boris literally fucking – Theo can only deal with this when he’s drunk (as that’s when they did it??). We also know that it actually meant something to him due to his incessant fucking assurance to us that it didn’t mean anything.

Like the entire few pages the excerpt below comes from, you know the ones:

The last time he sees Boris in Vegas – The entire “which was, of course, I love you” spiel he gives - change my mind, that is the gayest shit I’ve ever fucking read.

This entire fucking part:

Boris is trying to lighten the mood since Theo’s freaking the fuck out about losing The Goldfinch. When he realised Theo’s freaked out by The Gay™ (“No, no!” he said quickly, shaking his head, when he saw the look on my face”) he tries to comfort him because he knows Theo’s freaking the fuck out and that does not help the current situation (“I think it happens at that age sometimes”).

Theo is fucking really disturbed by the fact he’s being confronted with The Gay Shit™ he did in his youth (“My laugh spluttered out angrily, as if I’d coughed or choked on something”) and that’s on internalised homophobia.

+ You know that part somewhere in Chapter 10 where they’re in a diner or something Boris says something like “girlfriend or boyfriend” and Theo like literally gets up to leave? HAHA? What’s that about? – I couldn’t find it so sorry about that lol but here you go anyways.

In conclusion: it’s gay.

+ All that analysis is great, but why does this happen? Why does he experience this internalised homophobia?

In short, idk, it’s a question I’ve asked myself when suffering the same thing and thing only reason I can think as to why internalised homophobia is experienced - when you’re not part of a religion that says no (apparently) or an inherently homophobic environment - is simply because society is heteronormative. Because of this, you don’t see yourself represented in media or in the world (especially if you don’t know of/meet LGBTQ+ relatives/friends/role models when your young – or at all for that matter). It becomes really hard to see yourself in the world and whenever you do it feels really alien? It feels either like the greatest gift you’ve ever fucking had or a strange, unsettling event that you weren’t prepared for. Because there’s so little representation it feels like a fucking revelation whenever it is there – it’s a reminder that you are allowed to be a person, you have a place in this world as an LGBTQ+ person, you are right – you are not wrong or a fuck up, y’know? But then, it’s gone again too soon and you still feel not quite right?

TLDR – Theo (most likely) experiences internalised homophobia because of society being icky and also because I said so.

#the goldfinch #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #hyperfixation whom? idk her!#i love how i've done this instead of work towards my actual english quallification #i'm so sorry if you've read all that #a gold star for whomever managed to read this monstrosity

76 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 5 years

Photo

Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of December. Between the first month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to end off a great year of bottom Louis fics! We really hope you enjoy this list.

Happy reading, and have a Happy New Year!

1) The One Where Harry Fucks Louis While Wearing A Ballerina Dress | Mature | 1440 words

So now here he is, Harry Styles, one of the biggest pop stars of this generation, about to head on national tv with a ballerina dress and an hard on. Life truly is amazing.

2) A XXX-Mas Miracle | Explicit | 2078 words

Harry's favorite camboy is doing something special for Christmas. He can't exactly miss it, can he? Absolutely not.

3) Pretty, Pretty Lights | Explicit | 2827 words

It's the first time Harry and Louis have been home for Christmas together since their parents got married. More importantly, it's the first time they've been home together since they'd presented. They meet up under the glowing lights of the Christmas tree.

4) Fine Line | Explicit | 3281 words

This is just a tiny fanfiction that in my head was really just a Survival Instinct spin off, but then became a thing of its own.

5) Starlight In Your Eyes Of Blue | Mature | 4360 words

Harry is in New York while Louis is back home at London waiting for Harry’s return. Unfortunately, Harry may be unable to come back home in time for Christmas and most importantly—Louis’ birthday. Louis can’t wait any longer to be in a bed that’s no longer empty but in the end it changes.

6) Christmas Glows With Love | Explicit | 4837 words

Harry, a photographer, is taking photos for a porn magazine cover. Louis, a solo porn star, is up for just about anything!

7) When You Touch Me, Paint Me Like A Van Gogh | Explicit | 4866 words

There's a cricket in the room.

Louis is pulled from a hazy dream state by the startling knowledge that there's a cricket in his room.

(Harry has been away for a month. He comes home to Louis in the middle of the night - dramatics and smut ensue.)

8) Have A Little Bit Of Pride | Mature | 5906 words

They had talked about going to pride together since they started dating 3 years, but had always been too busy during the month of June to make the move to actually go, but this year they had convinced the boys to go so they cleared their schedule to take part in as many activities as they could.

Or Harry is Louis' really hot boyfriend who keeps getting flirted with at pride, so Louis confronts Harry. Sex ensues.

9) Somebody Gets Hurt | Explicit | 6796 words

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been romantically linked for years. The couple threaten their careers after trying to amuse themselves on a slow day.

10) My Little Omega | Mature | 8339 words

Harry Styles is a well-known boxer that happens to be an alpha. He also happens to be in love with his omega neighbor, Louis.

11) Lights, Camera, Acción (You Can Be My Daddy) | Explicit | 8845 words

Basically, Louis is a slutty little camboy and Harry fucks him. It's literally just porn and the plot is only there to connect the smut scenes.

12) Should Be, Meant To Be | Explicit | 9174 words

Prompt #65: Louis signs up for a Sugar Daddy dating website on a drunken dare. He forgets for a while, until one night he gets a notification for a message request from none other than his really hot (really rich) boss, Harry Styles.

13) Winter Night Traveler | Explicit | 9398 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

A dangerous snowstorm leaves Louis stranded in his cabin. Lucky for him, he gets an unexpected visitor...

14) Call If You Need Me | Mature | 9419 words

If anyone asks later on, Louis plans to tell them that it’s all Niall’s fault.

15) The Time is Now for Me And You | Explicit | 9944 words

Note: This fic included because it is part of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest, but the main pairing is Liam/Louis rather than Harry/Louis.

Louis inhales shakily and then buries his face into the crook of Liam’s neck and cries. Liam just holds him close, keeping his hand moving lightly along Louis’ spine to let him know that he’s here and that he will be alright, despite Liam not knowing what’s going on.

It doesn’t take longer than a few minutes of crying before Louis extracts himself from Liam’s embrace, seemingly having collected himself enough to not break down again.

“Do you wanna tell me what all this is about?” Liam asks gently, keeping a gentle hand on Louis’ arm.

“We broke up.”

or; Liam is a weenie and Louis is a mess.

16) By the Still Of Your Hand | Mature | 10630 words

Louis has a little insecurity, Harry makes him feel better about it.

17) If My Heart Was A Compass, You'd Be North | Mature | 11121 words

Louis is a famous travel vlogger, and Harry is a famous vlogging food critic. They travel the world with their best friends and fall more in love with every continent they step foot on. When Louis' love declaration threatens Harry's dreams of giving Louis the perfect proposal, craziness ensues.

18) Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table | Explicit | 11262 words

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

19) Pour Decisions | Explicit | 12203 words

Prompt 80: AU where drunk!Louis fills out a fake job application for hot boss Harry Styles, including lurid details about his ‘desired position’ and ‘qualifications,’ and accidentally submits that instead of the real one.

20) Wrap Me Up In Your Love | Explicit | 13223 words

Every time Louis tries to tell Harry his big news, they always get interrupted. Louis becomes increasingly more frustrated as Harry becomes more confused about his Omega’s behavior. Or the one where Louis is pregnant and keeps getting interrupted in the most obscure ways every time he tries to tell Harry.

21) Just A Little Taste | Explicit | 13257 words

Louis works at The Blind Bat as a bartender during one of the busier times of the night. Typically, there’s one bartender on duty, his best mate Niall Horan, but Louis steps in to help with the demand. There’s always someone who needs a drink, a menu, or something to replenish their energy. He also has to look out of the humans who willingly allow vampires to feed on them. He’s quite protective of the regulars who come to get their kicks with a quick drink and a bite. A vampire’s bite, and the rush of endorphins that come with it, can be addicting. He should know.

22) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13699 words

The one where Louis makes Harry tell him a kink he's never gotten to try out, and then he offers to do it with him, which leads to Harry's heart exploding afterward when Louis seems to have meant it as a one-time thing. Featuring a pining Harry, a scared Louis, and excessive use of the word baby.

23) You'll Be Home For Christmas | Not Rated | 15214 words

“Honesty, Lou, just ask Harry for help.”

Louis remained silent as he continued to scowl at the Christmas calendar Niall had hung on their refrigerator.

“And be nice to my calendar filled with holiday cheer,” Niall instructed. “You’re going to burn a fucking hole in it from the way you’re glaring at the innocent thing. It’s not the calendar’s fault that your heat is starting so close to Christmas.”

24) Everything I Do | Explicit | 16390 words

Harry’s ready, has been for a while now, and he’s fairly certain Louis is too, it just hasn’t been on the top of their priority list. There have been offhand mentions, a comment here and there, more in jest than anything, no serious discussion or consideration. Harry stands up straighter, a stomach-churning thought forming in his mind. Has Louis been waiting for him to ask?

OR the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

25) Don't Call Me Angel | Mature | 16648 words

Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

26) Paint Me A Literature Of Love | Explicit | 18513 words

Harry loves literature. It also just so happens he falls in love with a painter who is the perfect subject for prose and poetry.

Louis loves art, specifically acrylic. It seems perfectly fitting that he finds a man that inspires him to paint with all the colours in his supply.

27) Sweeter Still When We're Alone | Explicit | 20066 words

Louis is looking up at him, eyes glazed over and fucked out. His hair is a mess and Harry truly feels like he’s fallen under Louis’ spell.

“That’s right, you little witch,” he groans. He grabs the back of Louis’ hair and pulls it so that his head is tilted so far back that they’re barely centimetres apart, breathing in the same air. Harry closes his eyes and moves closer.

Nobody ever tells you that love potions taste like cherries.

28) Absolutely Smitten | Mature | 20121 words

Adopting Clifford was a way for Louis to finally cope with his loneliness, as a lively dog would spice up his life and his boring daily routine. Now, he surely didn’t expect Clifford to lead him to meet one strange man obsessed with his cat that he walks and cooks with.

Somehow, Louis falls in love pretty fast along the way.

Or. Louis is walking his dog. Harry is walking his cat. Leashes get tangled, and feelings too.

29) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

30) Written In The Stars (That's You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

Written for the prompt: Louis is a funny and bratty psychic and Harry is set on proving he's a scam.

31) Bloom | Explicit | 24887 words

When they first meet at Harry’s flower truck, Harry falls hard but Louis’ unavailable. Only before long, Harry reignites a spark that Louis thought long forgotten.

32) Swept Me Off My Feet (Took My Heart And Took Me Down) | Explicit | 25447 words

When Louis had decided to reopen his mother's bakery, he never thought a charming alpha would walk in through the door, let alone fall in love with him over tea, dessert and music.

33) The World Is Vast | Explicit | 25858 words

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so fucking much.” Harry began to cry. “She was only 17 for fuck’s sake. She had her whole life ahead of her! She should be researching colleges and skipping school to hang out at the mall. She should be playing with her little brothers and helping her mother in the kitchen with dinner. This is bullshit! Complete bullshit! I thought I could do this, I thought…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead he kicked the brick wall before collapsing against it, his head back, rain beating against his face, mixing with his tears.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Harry looked to Louis. He saw the same sadness and sorrow as the night before. He felt the same connection, the same feeling that he and Louis were alike - both broken looking to belong.

Or - The Killing Au.

34) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30830 words

Jane Austen's Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis' family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

35) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

36) From The Start | Explicit | 32171 words

Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

37) Listen To Your Heart | Explicit | 35019 words

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

38) Every Lonely Place | Explicit | 38062 words

Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.

39) Now That This Old World Is Ending | Explicit | 49184 words

Needing a good distraction from his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson goes on a camping trip with his friends to Northern England. However, a different kind of distraction arises when his friends disappear from their camp. Hellbent on finding them, Louis soon discovers that the area has been taken over by a cult and teams up with a resentful archer with fire in his eyes and blood on his hands.

Far Cry inspired AU.

40) You'll Find Me (In The Region Of The Summer Stars) | Explicit | 49929 words

Or the one where they're all greek gods except for Harry, who thanks to Niall has to defeat everything from sirens to giants to dragons in order to survive. What Harry doesn't know is what could be waiting for him at the end of his quest -anything from nymphs to dryads... or even a certain soulmate omega.

41) Thinking About The T-Shirt You Sleep In | Explicit | 52489 words

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

42) Warming Up to You | Explicit | 56227 words

“I feel you,” Harry nods along as he zips his bag open, carefully pulling out his fancy looking camera before pressing a button to turn it on. “I love taking pictures for a number of reasons, but I think the best part of the whole thing is that I’m able to go through my older pictures and have all these memories from those moments come back to me.”

He puts the camera against his eye and points at Louis, and before the shorter one can even react, he hears a ‘click’, and Harry’s smiling down at the screen of his camera.

“And I don't think I want to forget about the day I got stranded in a cabin with a pretty stranger,” he finishes off.

43) Not That Gone | Explicit | 61995 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

44) Beautiful Stranger | Explicit | 66074 words

When Alpha Harry Styles attends the Gucci Cruise 2020 show, he knows what to expect: clothes, clutch bags, and a few too many pretentious people. What he doesn’t expect, however, is to run into an Omega who is more beautiful than anything on the runway.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp safety check #larry

237 notes · View notes

itzleon345 · 4 years

Text

Superhero au that nobody asks for!

Green Team

Amanda O'Neill

Alias: Red thief

Skills: super speed, super agility

Weaknesses: The use of her power has to be in very short periods because otherwise she could suffer some decompensation due to fatigue like fainting and convulsions

Nationality: American

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Red / Orange

Small description: She is a girl with hyperactivity, attention deficit and suffers from kleptomania (even if she is a hero). She has some deplorable qualifications, is a very loyal and adventurous person, likes to be in large groups, and she is very friendly and funny so she also has a great ability to convince.

Fun fact: although she's very distracted and doesn't care about her classes, she's considerably good at Physics

Jasminka Antoneko

Alias: Big Bear

Skills: Super Strength

Weaknesses: she must always be eating and / or in a continuous rest because her muscle mass is always developing, if for any reason she stops eating or sleeping her muscles will begin to tear

Nationality: Russian

Eye color: black

Hair Color: Pale Pink

Small description: She is a very kind and sweet girl, normally she does not like to do things by force (ironic), although in her life she has suffered a lot of harassment due to her weight, she is not spiteful.

Fun fact: Thanks to her weakness, she learned to cook and is very good at doing it, but either way she claims that first goes the milk and then the cereal.

Constanze Amalie von Braunschbank Albrechtsberger

Alias: Autitec

Skills: Controls all kinds of metal

Weaknesses: Its power is deactivated in very high or very low temperatures (-0 ° c and + 32 ° c)

Nationality: German

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Black

Small description: A short girl who is on the autistic spectrum (that's why her hero name) that comes from a family of engineers, that's why her love and great ability to build things, she doesn't talk much and doesn't like to be distracted while she is in her workshop

Fun fact: She has an obsession with animes like Gurren Lagann and Mazinger Z or series like Voltron

Blue Team

Hannah england

Alias: Bougie

Skills: can control light, can make his body shine, with the assistance of "Shadow Giver" can become invisible

Weaknesses: activating her power (100%) away from Barbara can damage her vision by not having a source of darkness that controls her luminescence

Nationality: British

Eye color: Brown / gray (when activated, they become completely gray, while deactivated they will be gray-brown)

Hair color: light brown

Small description: Bárbara has always been her best friend (almost) since birth because their families have always been very close, thanks to this their skills grew to complement each other, both are from prestigious families, for this very reason they are brats and "good for nothing" (they were always very spoiled) and cowards because they never faced any real-world situation, either way they both want to protect the world

Fun fact: She's afraid of the dark, so she sleeps with a night light

Barbara Parker

Alias: The Shadow Giver

Skills: control shadows, with the assistance of "Bougie" can become invisible

Weaknesses: If she activates her power (100%) away from Hannah, the darkness takes control of her body and begins to consume everything in her path due to not having a light source that controls the darkness, this can cause blood loss ( is the fastest thing to be consumed)

Nationality: British

Eye color: Blue / gray (when activated, they become completely gray, while deactivated they will be a gray-blue color)

Hair Color: Black

Small description: Being Hannah's best friend, both are always together, they are inseparable (even in tasks of a single person) because their abilities are complementary and it would be a great mistake to separate them because they are (technically) useless alone.

Fun fact: She crate her Hero Alias based on the name of a character from a cartoon she liked to see with Hannah

Diana Cavendish

Alias: Royal Ivy

Skills: Controls plants, can also communicate with them

Weaknesses: her power is not very useful at night since plants cannot photosynthesize. FIRE

Nationality: British

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde with Mint Green Locks

Small description: Heir to the Cavendish house, Diana is a fairly closed and fancy girl, she does not like to share her feelings, she is very intelligent, perfectionist and responsible, coming from a family of healers and doctors (and thanks to her ability) she has a vast knowledge of benevolent plants

Fun fact: Ever since she was little she always loved making flower crowns to calm down

Red Team

Lotte Yanson

Alias: Alma

Skills: Can communicate and see beings from the “second reality” as well as ghosts (souls in pain), spirits, etc.

Weaknesses: If she does not wear her glasses she confuses both realities, she does not know what is real and what is not and she may end up being posses by some not very friendly entity.

Nationality: Finnish.

Eye color: Blue.

Hair color: Orange blonde.

Small description: Her family has always lived in a small town in Finland, when she was little she suffered constant harassment for being able to talk to ghosts, thanks to this she became a very shy girl, in any case she is very kind and always sees the positive side of things

Fun fact: She created her first pair of glasses that although they were not so good, they helped her to differentiate

Sucy Manbavaran

Aliases: Toxic Witch

Skills: All the liquids that her body produces are either poisonous or are some kind of acid, she also has a vast knowledge of venomous things

Weaknesses: Because of being exposed to so many poisonous liquids and vapors, her body is very weak, she must also be on constant medication to be able to have contact with people and not harm them (although if she wanted she could melt your hands)

Nationality: Philippine

Eye Color: Red

Hair Color: Pale Purple

Small description: Her parents are divorced, while her mother lives in the Philippines her father is in England, until she was 14 she lived with her mother until she ran away from home so she could start her investigations with the mushrooms that grew in her town, At 16, she was adopted by a scientist, later both of them went to England where she currently lives at the age of 18

Fun fact: Ironically she is terrified of spiders

Atsuko "Akko" Kagari

Alias: Dark Kagami / Shiny Akko

Skills: she is a third generation shapeshifter, like "Dark Kagami" she changes her appearance as people and / or things, like "Shiny Akko" she transforms different parts of her body into animal parts

Weaknesses: if she maintains herself in a way that is not hers for a long time, she begins to have very powerful headaches and give her strong fevers because her brain detects that it is not in the body that it should and believes that it is being invaded by a external entity

Nationality: Japanese

Eye color: Red (due to a defect in its power, this part of her body is the only one that cannot change, that's why she always wears blue, green and brown contact lenses)

Hair color: Brown

Small description: abandoned in the tunnels of "The Phoenix Society" at the age of 9 months with only a note (in Japanese) and a master key, Atsuko Kagari was raised by Elizabeth and Victor McCallister members of "The Phoenix Society" At the age of 5 she began to demonstrate her ability by exchanging parts of her body for those of some animals (such as rabbit ears or cat's tail), she had a “normal” childhood in those tunnels, at the age of 8 years she began to have training with “Copycat”, the only shapeshifter in all of the society.

Fun fact: after being saved by Shiny Chariot, Akko wants to bring peace to everyone's heart the same way Chariot did to her

Adults

Ursula Callistis

Alias: Gemini

Skills: another of the few shapeshifters left in "Midnight City", can transform into any type of animal

Weaknesses: If she changes among many animals in a very short period of time, her organs can be affected by not having changed in time.

Nationality: French

Eye color: Red (in all of its forms)

Hair Color: Dark Blue

Small description: Transferred from the French order to Midnight City, Ursula Callistis is the new teacher at the Luna Nova Academy for Heroes, she is quite clumsy and a little shy, but when it comes to acting she is a great hero, after getting accepted in the academy she took the role of tutor for Atsuko Kagari, another shapeshifter

Fun Fact: One of her favorite animals to transform is the bat because she finds satisfying to sleep upside down

Croix Meridies

Alias: Noir Scienziata / Macchina Parlante

Skills: Technopath, she communicates with "smart" objects and controls them at her disposal

Weaknesses: Since its power does not affect plants, these can be very effective against it, depending on the control she has over any machine, her body is also affected

Nationality: Italian

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Pale Violet

Small description: ex-heroine of Midnight City and ex-student of the Luna Nova Academy, Croix was a companion of Shiny Chariot but after her disappearance she returned to Italy to continue developing her ability, years later she returns to Midnight City to become a teacher in Luna Nova, she is also the famous villain Noir Scienziata although nobody knows this, she is responsible for the disappearance of "Shiny Chariot"

Fun fact: since her student years she has always had an obsession with instant ramen

Chariot du Nord

Alias: Shiny Chariot

Skills: Create illusions with smoke (thanks to her training the illusions can do physical damage)

Weaknesses: if she runs out of smoke her body begins to burn little by little in order to generate more

Nationality: French

Eye Color: Red

Hair Color: Bright Red

Small description: In her years as a student Chariot was chosen by “Vrachióli Sidírou” (literally translated as iron bracelet), an object created in the medieval era by Woodward, a beast charmer and also one of the “Nine Old Heroes”, this object was created to seal Alexander Warrenson or better known as “Checkmate” the most powerful Telepath of all time, he was a great strategist and could control entire armies with his mind, although to make it easier he fought as if he were in a chess game, after a fight with Noir Scienziata she disappeared completely, she is believed to be dead

Fun fact: In her years in Luna Nova she had many pets but the most famous was Arcas, a giant polar bear that is believed to still be in the lands of the academy

Vrachióli Sidírou

"Vrachióli Sidírou" is a wristband with 7 holes to place the 7 stars of power, Flight, Super Force, Super Speed, Invisibility, Telekinesis, Aquatic Breathing and Pyrokinesis, which were the original abilities, after "The Warrenson War" the object disappeared for many years until Seymour Krelborn or "The Gardener", a plant talker, found it and used it to save the world, once again years later Cacoch or "Misango", a hero with the power to empower his abilities thanks to a spirit, was granted with the relic to protect his people, and year after year this object has been delivered for the sole purpose of protecting humanity, the most recent bearer was Chariot du Nord (Shiny Chariot) which she use it to give peace to England although in one of her last battles she lost it for having hurt innocents (by accident) 2 years later the heroine disappeared in her last battle against Noir Scienziata.

The object has not been in its 100% power since "The Warrenson War" since none of its bearers has found the 7 stars, the closest to finding them was Chariot, although it never managed to do so because it was taken from her.

Plot

Atsuko Kagari is part of the Phoenix Society, a famous group of thieves, before they were a group of villains but thanks to the heroes of Luna Nova they had to become simple thieves, they live in tunnels under Midnight City, she was raised by Victor and Elizabeth McCallister a young couple, Victor is a fire eater (Dragon) and Elizabeth a translator (The Talker), although this is supposed to be a villain society, it was never verified, but out of fear the heroes decided to banish them from Midnight City, most of the people who live in the tunnels are poor and that’s why they become thieves. The heroes of Luna Nova have a record of all those that reside there, of all but Akko who appeared there 18 years ago when she was just a baby, She was found by one of the night thieves and took her with Arthur Phoenix, head of the society, who decided to give it to the McCallister couple, Atsuko was raised with the purpose of returning honor to the society.

When she was 6 years old the tunnels were found being the battlefield between Shiny Chariot and The Dark Paladin, Akko was saved and comforted by Chariot, from that day she began to dream of being a hero like Chariot, in any way thanks to her ability she was also raised as a thief, her first alias was chosen with the help of her "mother". After suspicious robberies in Midnight City Akko was in the middle of her first fight, which she did not win but managed to escape, because of this now the heroes know about "Dark Kagami" and it is one of the most wanted because the shapeshifters (and the third generation more (the ones that change their appearance with people, objects and animals)) are people who are very difficult to find lately, after the high command of the society found out about this they have to start their plan to rise again, and what better spy than a shapeshifter that doesn't exist? At the age of 18 Akko is sent to Luna Nova Academy to do the tests and be accepted as a new hero to train ..... What could go wrong?

???: Atsuko, Your mission as Shiny Akko is to capture Dark Kagami

28 notes · View notes

heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

My Girl Series: Chapter 9 - Bambi

…in which the little girl next door isn’t so little anymore.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 8: Without The Love - Harry wants what he shouldn’t, and now he cannot leave.

Warning: smut (yes guys, finally), and also mistakes because my eyesight got blurry after going through 7k words lmao.

wattpad link

"But boys don't like little girls."

"That's not true. I'm a boy and I like you."

"You do?!"

"Of course I do. You're my girl."

With a faint smile, fifteen-year-old Harry headed back to his front porch. He thought about the look on Y/N's face when he called her his girl, oh how happy she must've felt, and that made him feel special too. As the boy sat back down with his study group, his eyes still followed the girl until she was finally out of sight.

"Are you dating an eleven-year-old?" The fat kid named Brian said, pulling Harry's attention back to the skeptical stares everyone in the circle was giving him. They all cracked up at that one question, causing the poor boy to shift uncomfortably in his spot.

"She's just my neighbor," he said, but nobody seemed convinced.

"I think she has a crush on you," said the pretty blonde sitting right in front of him. When she pressed her lips into a smile, Harry swore that his heart might've just skipped a beat.

Her name was Kathy — the most beautiful girl in school. Earlier that year, there had been rumors going around that she secretly liked Harry a lot, but she hadn't found the courage to ask him out yet. And frankly, who wouldn't want to receive attention from such a beautiful girl? So when she assumed that his little friend might have a crush on him, he couldn't let her believe that was true, not even for a second.

"I think she only sees me as her big brother," he reassured Kathy.

Another smile formed on her lips as she combed her fingers through her golden locks.

"Trust me, I know when a girl likes a boy," she said, batting her eyelashes at Harry, who could only hope it wasn't obvious how red he had become.

"Dude," another kid spoke up, gaining everyone's attention at once, but he was only talking to Harry. "That kid was so excited to tell you about her first period. Talk about being obsessive! I can see her hanging your photos everywhere in her bedroom."

Everyone burst out laughing at what that boy had just said, everyone including his crush. So even though Harry didn't find any humor in the mean joke, he cracked a nervous grin. He felt so guilty afterwards though; if his Bambi had been there and they had said those words to her face, he might've reacted differently. But she wasn't there, Kathy was, leaving him no other choice but to play along.

When Harry looked up and met Kathy's blue eyes, she gave him a shrug as if to tell him to just ignore his friends. But how could he when they were all laughing at him? For a teenage boy, having a good reputation mattered a lot; and without a doubt, having a lot of friends was more important than having a real one. So those simple words the other kids had said caused him to overthink for the rest of the day. And from that day, the way he saw his little neighbor had also changed.

All of a sudden, he felt like it was inappropriate for a fifteen-year-old to spend that much time with an eleven-year-old. First off, people would make fun of him. Second, girls like Kathy would assume he wasn't mature enough for them. It was such a shame that both of those reasons were about him, and not Y/N. He didn't bother to think about how it would make her feel when he decided to keep his distance with her.

At that point, Harry didn't know how much he would regret it later on.

Checking his watch for the third time or so, Harry leaned back against the car, sighing as he looked up. He tried to find the window on the fifth floor that was Y/N's bedroom only to see if her light was on. It showed just how impatient he was getting. Fifteen minutes more and he began to fear that she might've forgotten about their "date" to the musical. So he decided to send a quick text to make sure she remembered. It didn't take more than a second for the word seen to appear and three dots to pop up in the chat box.

⌲ Bambi: The show starts at 9. It's only 7PM now?

Shit. He thought to himself and quickly opened the photo of the tickets she'd sent. She was right. He was too excited to see her that he thought the show started one hour earlier. Embarrassed, Harry quickly wrote her another text.

⌲ Sorry. But I'm here anyway so can I come up?

⌲ Bambi: Wait. I'll be right down with you.

⌲ Bambi: Btw, park your car somewhere. We'll walk.

Y/N suggested that they go for a drink first and then to the theater. He hadn't seen her so excited in a long time, she talked and laughed a lot. It wasn't her everyday personality but he thought he liked that side of her, he liked it a lot.

They walked side by side, two meters apart, him having both hands in his pockets and her with her arms folded to hold onto herself. Those defensive gestures might keep them from running into each other's embrace, yet it didn't stop their thoughts from wandering way too far from reality. He took a glance at her and turned away as she did the same. They had been walking for five minutes without exchanging a single word, and the silence had become way too suffocating.

"Why is this street so dark?" Harry finally spoke as he looked around and realized there was no one else but the two of them. The moon was nowhere to be seen, and the only source of light there was a dim streetlamp which went on and off every second.

Harry had checked the weather forecast before leaving his house and it said there was a 70% chance of rain that night. No wonder the stars in the sky were nonexistent, same as the moon, they were all hidden under thick blankets of dark clouds.

Not answering Harry's question, Y/N walked fast forward, taking a turn into an alley as she nodded her head, giving him signal to hurry along. She told him they couldn't take the direct route to the bar because it would be suicidal to walk down the street together at London's most busy hour. When they went out for dinner with her father and Marcy, they had tried to be as lowkey as they could've, but somehow still ran into his fans. This time, they had to be even more secretive, though it was admittedly tiring to literally hide in the dark.

"Do you always walk that far when you're out with a girl?" Y/N pointed out, making Harry realize he was keeping a considerable distance from her.

"Yeah, well, I don't even hold hands on a date unless it's for PR."

"Sucks to be you." She laughed. But he agreed. It sucked to be him sometimes.

In silence, Harry followed the girl as they walked along the rough cobbled road that caused his feet to ache. The abandoned blocks on both sides were tight together and loomed over the pair, creating an illusion that the alleyway was longer and more narrow than it actually was. The sounds of their footsteps ricochetted from one wall to the other, somehow causing his heart to beat in sync with his steady paces.

In the half light of the alley, his Bambi appeared so small. To answer the question in his head, she broke the silence, "I don't usually take this route when I go out alone at night."

"Good." He breathed out a heavy chuckle, feeling relieved. "I meant to ask."

They carried on walking, taking a few more turns. All those narrow streets looked almost the same, all dark and grey, causing Harry to think if Y/N had left him there to walk back on his own, he would've spent the rest of his life searching for the way out.

"We're almost there," she assured him.

Soon he noticed the yellow beams of the only lamppost ahead, and Y/N sighed in relief as she pointed to the metal door at the end of the road, saying that was the back entrance of the bar. She walked in without hesitation, pulling Harry along, so he assumed she had been there plenty of times before.

The place was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all mixed up with the loud rock song blasting on the speaker which nobody really paid attention to. Y/N made her way through the sweaty bodies, making sure her fingers stayed locked around Harry's wrist as they headed straight towards the counter to order some drinks.

"Andrew!"

"Little girl!" The big fat bartender laughed loudly when he spotted her face in the crowd. "I can hardly recognize you when you're sober."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she huffed and pulled a chair to sit down, telling Harry to do the same. It took the actor a moment to figure out why Andrew and everything there looked so familiar. That was the same bar he'd come to pick her up when she was shit-faced on that counter and threw up all over his shoes. He opened his mouth to speak, yet was interrupted by the loud bearded man.

"Glad to see you two back together again," said the man while looking at Harry. "The last time you broke up, she literally turned my bar into her second home."

"But we never dated."

"Don't fool me, little girl." Andrew scoffed, pointing a finger at Y/N. "If your pretty boyfriend hadn't come save your ass, I would've tossed you out on the street that night."

Harry and Y/N exchanged funny looks in silence. Instead of trying to explain, they just let Andrew believe what he wanted to believe and ordered a pint of beer for each.

Most of the people at that bar were blue-collar workers and middle-aged men who'd had too much to drink to remember who they were, let alone recognize movie star Harry Styles sitting just a few feet away from them. For the first time in the longest time, Harry finally felt like he was invisible and he actually loved the feeling of it. It seemed like Y/N was the only one there who knew him, and he felt free to drink as much as he liked and laughed as hard as he wanted. They sat and talked about life, his movies, her job at the library, and many other things that mattered to them. Then it was finally 8:30, they paid for the drinks and said goodbye to Andrew so as to get to the show on time.

Once again, the pair took the same dark route they had before, but this time instead of walking far apart, she had her arm around his waist and his on her shoulders. They were singing random songs out loud, knowing the only creatures they might disturb on that abandoned street were the rats and cockroaches in the sewers. But their ignorance didn't get to last for too long. As they took the final turn to get back to the main street, Harry immediately spotted a familiar face.

Under the lamppost stood a man, tall and slim, with a cigarette between his lips. He was too busy talking on the phone with someone to notice them. So Harry grabbed Y/N by the arms and pulled her back into the dark alleyway. She intended to ask when he pressed her against the wall, but with a finger to his lips, he signaled her to stay silent. Slowly, he poked his head out to check on the stranger, making Y/N frown in confusion.

"That man out there works for an online magazine that write gossip about celebrities," he whispered, now turning back to her, one hand resting on the wall by her head, the other on her neck. "Maybe we should wait a bit for him to leave. Can't let him see us together."

Y/N pressed her lips into a firm line, nodding her head to let him know she got it. She fought him a lot, so it was nice to see her listen to him even just for once. And she looked too cute for him to feel unfortunate that they got stuck in that situation.

For a moment, he got lost in the hues of her eyes. He told himself to stay calm, still couldn't fight the urge to caress her lips with his thumb. He thought about chewing on them if she would just let him kiss her. But knowing her, he didn't have much hope for getting a taste of those lips anytime soon.

Just as a drop of crystal-clear water appeared on his skin, Harry quickly lifted both hands above Y/N's head to shield her from the raindrops coming down. She gave him a smile, as if the thought of a rain excited her as it used to when she was a child. He watched her beam grow, unable to stop one from forming upon his face. However, the drops became heavier really soon. Harry poked his head out of the alleyway once again, but the annoying reporter was still standing there because he was safe with the roof above his head. Harry sighed in frustration, but Y/N only giggled. The sound of her laugh eased his mind as he stepped closer, almost sandwiching her between his body and the brick wall so the rain couldn't drench all of her, at least not as much as it was doing to him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, their faces so close that even with the sound thunder, he could still hear her breath get caught in her throat. Y/N cupped his face, wiping the wet strands out of his forehead. Her eyelids flutter as she stared at the droplets running down his pink lips.

"Why are you sorry?" She asked, laughing nervously when her body shivered from the cold. Even though it was pointless at this point to shield her from the downpour, Harry still kept one arm above her head, his other tightened the grip on her waist.

"I ruined our date."

"Our date?"

"Oh, fuck...I mean..." He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head and laughing lowly. "Shit. Never mind."

Y/N said nothing. The girl couldn't come up with anything to speak so she pulled him in. The water ran down their faces to where their lips collided. Neither seemed to care as they tasted the cold drops against the tips of their tongues. Harry pushed his lips in more firmly, and the intoxicating wave running through him caused his head to spin in circles. There was something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender yet intense moment that just wouldn't wait. The couple melted into each other, letting the water soak through to chill their skin, like a rebellion act against nature.

The universe could bring the storm, but the sunshine within could come through just as strong.

When Harry pulled his car over in front of his house, his first instinct was to look up at the highest window next door to check if Y/N had gone to bed yet. It was almost midnight then but he could still see her shadow pacing back and forth inside her room, and so he assumed she must've waited until the last minute to prepare for an exam again.

"What is it?" Spoke the girl sitting in the passenger seat, as she leaned over to see what her date was looking at, and why he was smiling. Harry just straight off told Kathy that it was nothing, and got out to come open the door for her. His mum was already asleep, so he asked Kathy to be quiet as he took her hand and led her into his house. The teenagers headed straight to the backyard, where they could be alone and didn't have to worry about waking up Anne.

Turning on the fairy lights on the porch, Harry set up two chairs looking out to the garden, and asked his date to sit down with him. But that wasn't what Kathy had in mind. Her attention was on something else. With a smile she pointed to the big tree standing right by the fence, and asked him, "is that your treehouse?"

"Yeah. My dad built it," he answered.

Harry almost included 'before he left', but he didn't think Kathy was ready to hear about his family drama when it was just their first date.

"Let's go up there."

"Go up there?" Harry widened his eyes at her suggestion, yet the girl already seemed so excited.

"Yeah. I wanna see your treehouse." She giggled and leaned in to study his facial expression, probably wondering why he seemed so unsure. "Do you have secrets that you don't want me to know?" Kathy joked, laughing slightly, but Harry only shook his head as a response. "Or am I not special enough?"

"You are, you are special," he said fast, laughing nervously.

Without a doubt, he liked Kathy very much. He would be insane if he didn't, because she was the definition of perfect. She was beautiful, and sweet, and smart, like the main girl in those romantic movies he'd watched and books he'd read. And to have someone popular and pretty like her as a girlfriend was certainly a dream come true. However, nobody else had entered that treehouse but him and Y/N. It wasn't just his treehouse, it was theirs. So even though Y/N was studying in her room and wouldn't be able to see him bring Kathy to their fort, he felt guilty about it still.

"I'm too exhausted to climb all the way up there," he lied. But Kathy just breathed out a laugh and took his wrist as she told him he was just lazy.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go," she urged him, pulling the boy with her before he could come up with another way to say no. And Harry didn't make an effort to stop her then. He let her get on the robe ladder first and followed right after to make sure she didn't fall. When they finally got up there, he switched on the lightbulb and stepped aside for his date to enter the world that was initially just his and Y/N's.

"Wow, 'do not enter'. Trying to be badass, huh?" Kathy giggled as she read the messy handwriting on the door. Little did she know, it wasn't Harry's.

The girl took a look around the tiny space, observing every little corner that belonged to her date's childhood, everything that used to matter a lot, or still mattered to him. It didn't take her too long to spot four simple words carved onto the back entrance.

"Y/N and Harry only?" She squinted her eyes, and turned to give Harry a questioning look. "Is Y/N that little girl who lives next door to you?"

"Yup." He shrugged, shoving both hands into his pants pockets. "This used to be our treehouse."

Used to. Harry couldn't believe he'd said that. If Y/N was there, she would be so upset, and the thought of it made him feel terrible.

"Our?" Kathy playfully stuck out her bottom lip, pouting as she said, "so I'm not the first girl you brought here?"

"She's just a kid." He chuckled, shaking his head, and the smile soon returned to Kathy's face. Slowly, she walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and Harry felt his heart racing faster as his arms finally tightened around her small waist. Their foreheads rested against each other; and he let himself get carried away by the deep blue of her eyes.

"Sit. I have something for you." He sat down on the floor, pulling her down with him and reached out to grab the dusty guitar he'd left in the corner for too long. The last time he picked it up was when his Bambi asked him to play her a song. Of course he didn't mention it to Kathy, so the girl assumed she was the first and only girl he'd ever sung to.

The sad truth was, she wasn't even his first love, or even his love. She was just a girl he had a crush on at seventeen, the age at which not everyone could tell the difference between love and physical attraction. Harry and Kathy had their first kiss that night in the treehouse, but a few months later, they called it off because their feelings just weren't the same anymore. After the breakup, they never spoke to each other again, and it didn't take Harry too long to erase most memories he had with her.

But somehow, he couldn't do the same to the little girl he had abandoned.

The rain came in waves, splattering across the pavement and beating down on every hard surface. Soon the entire city had been hidden by silver sheets of water. As pedestrians dashed for cover, the hiss of car tires on glistening roads was competing with the wild howling of the wind. The scene was pure madness. But right there, in Harry's car, was the opposite of what was happening outside in the pouring rain.

He kissed her and the world fell away. Their heavy breaths had fogged up all the windows, obscuring the movements of two soaked body in the backseat of the steamy vehicle. She was sitting on his lap, grinding against the hard bulge under his wet jeans, earning a heavy groan that got stuck in his throat when he tossed his head back. His fingers pressed hard onto the exposed skin above the waistband of her tennis skirt.

"That man took too long to leave," she moaned into his mouth, hands hiking up his shirt as she was desperate for some skin contact. The thin fabric of her panties didn't really do its job because he could feel her heat burning through all those layers and knew she wasn't just dripping from the rain. It was killing him to not tear off her clothes and take her right there. He desperately wanted to, he knew she wanted him to. His mind tried to reason with him that once they'd had sex, they could never go back. But now she was moaning his name non-stop as he was sucking on her neck, it was impossible for them to stop at this point.

"We can't...not here." His breath hitched up as he clung to her hips, trying to push her away, but she grasped his neck harder, forcing him to open his eyes and look into hers. The look she was giving him could melt him into the puddle that had already formed on the leather seat because of their drenched clothes.

"Want you now," she begged, hot mouth sucking the spot right below his ear, causing him to moan out, and the sound to Y/N was just like a ballad made from heaven.

"Bambi-" She cut him off by kissing his lips. He kissed back, both hands moving to her neck and hair.

"Want you to fuck me," she whispered, pouting like a little girl, but now he knew she wasn't one anymore. "Don't you want that? To fuck me?"

"I do, fuck, I do." Harry loved and hated her dirty mouth at the same time, but he still managed to use a fraction of self-control he'd got left to reason with her, as well as himself.

"Just...don't want our first time to...god...to be like this. Not here." He tossed his head back when she kissed his jawline, neck, and collarbone. "Let's get you home." He shook his head, one arm squeezing her torso, but she only kissed him harder, leaving him breathless. "Baby, be good."

Y/N's lips curved into a smile as she heard that nickname. That was the first time he'd ever called her "baby" and she almost begged him to never stop repeating that word.

"Shh." She brought her finger up to his lips and kissed them again, before pulling away a bit so she wouldn't forget to breathe. "Don't worry about me. I've done this before."

"Fuck. No need to remind me that." He released a rough groan when she bit his earlobe, trying not to think about all the other men who had felt what he was feeling then. Their breathing then became rough and fast as she tugged on his shirt, and finally pulling it over his head to do the same to her sweater. She didn't have her bra on, so Harry's eyes nearly fell out when he saw her bare chest for the first time.

There was a vulnerability in Y/N's eyes as she felt him gazing at her naked form. With that look on his face, it almost felt like Harry had just seen a woman's breasts for the first time in his life, so she couldn't help but giggle lowly. His eyes didn't linger too long there, just enough for her to know how beautiful she was to him. She was literally trembling when she took his hand and placed it on one breast. He squeezed it gently, feeling the softness of her skin which was turning warm under his palm. One hand at the back of his neck, she urged his face down. Soon he opened his mouth and gently suckled, causing his name to spill out from her mouth, mixing up with wet moans that got his jeans tightened even more.

She was his drug. All it took was one touch and the intoxication was instant. Her scent became more prominent in the tiny space of his backseat and the fragranced hot air got all the blood in his body rushing to one body part.

Before they knew how it happened, they were both naked and their bodies were moving softly together as if they were one. Their tongues entwined in a sloppy kiss when he was finally inside, changing her breathing with every hard thrust as if her moans fueled him to go harder and deeper.

"No...don't...Bambi, look at me." He held her face to demand eye contact, not slowing down as she begged him not to. She struggled to keep her eyes open but never gave into the temptation to get carried away all at once. He watched her face twist with pleasure as his lips parted, hands guiding her hip to move her faster ontop of him.

"Feels good."

"Yea—Yeah? " He furrowed his brows as she did the same, clutching his hair a bit tighter.

"More." She moaned, nodding fast, not to look anywhere else but his green eyes.

"Such a good girl for me. Almost there, baby. C'mon," he coaxed her, capturing her mouth with his own and she caught him by surprise by nipping his bottom lip between her teeth. He was weak for her, entirely defeated under her. If she wanted him to beg, he would, as long as she promised to never stop until they both came undone.

When it happened, Y/N almost forgot how to breathe. She slammed one hand against the foggy window on her side, arching her back when he pounded into her. She couldn't care less if her scream could break the glass as she tossed her head back and dug her nails into his back. Harry released into the condom just a few seconds after her as he finally slowed down and kissed her hard on the lips. The stayed there, panting until they caught our breaths, sweaty foreheads against one another.

It was insane how they managed to get back to her flat, let alone strip each other down again once they had entered the living room. This time, he took her hard against her bedroom wall, still in their dripping clothes, too aroused to care or even make it to the bed. After the third orgasm that followed right after her second, Harry had to catch Y/N's limb body before she collapsed and carried her to the shower. They just stood there leaning onto each other for support, her head on his chest as he washed her hair, letting the warm water run down their flushed skin to wash the rain water, sweat, and the smell of sex all down the drain.

It wasn't until they had returned to the bedroom and began drying off that realization sank back in for both. They just stood there, staring at one another in silent. Harry had only a towel wrapped around his waist now that his clothes were all wet. And Y/N was wearing just a t-shirt big and long enough to look like a dress on her. The feeling was strange, yet new, and exciting.

It was Y/N who took the first steps forward, closing the distance between them two to hug him tight. Without saying a word, he did the same, sniffing in the apple scent of her still soaked hair.

"Stay the night," she said at last. And he happily nodded, squeezing her warm body tight.

Harry had been pacing back and forth for nearly a minute before he finally gained enough courage to ring on his neighbor's doorbell. The boy blew air through his mouth, hollowing up his cheeks as he heard footsteps coming his way. And when the door opened, it wasn't the fourteen-year-old he was there to see, it was her mother. Tam Y/L/N greeted the boy next door with a casual, yet heart-warming smile.

"Harry, look how grown you are! I haven't seen you around in so long," she said. He already knew that it'd been a while since he last came here, but to hear it from someone else made him feel worse somehow. "I heard you got the scholarship that you wanted. Your mother must be so proud."

"Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N...Is Y/N home?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs. Want me to call her for you?"

"No." He stopped her just as she turned away. "Uhm...I'm leaving tomorrow. I think I should let her know. Can you tell her that for me?"

"Sweetie..." The corners of Tam's lips sank into a frown. "She doesn't even know about the scholarship."

Right. Of course she didn't know. The last time they talked was a year ago when she asked him to take her to that concert but he refused. He couldn't believe it had been that long. They had been two strangers for a year now, so to see her again and tell her he was gonna leave Holmes Chapel and wasn't sure when and if he was ever coming back would make him seem like a jerk. So even though Harry's initial intention when he rang the doorbell was to talk to her in person, but now the thought of it scared him a lot. Harry stood there, stuttering in front of her mother, trying to come up with an excuse so she would help him out by breaking this news to Y/N.

But the woman spoke before he could, "Harry, you know her. If she hears this from me she'll assume she doesn't matter to you." Then came a pause. "Do you care about her?"

He didn't answer that inquiry. But he didn't have to.

"Then I think you should tell her yourself. She really misses you," Tam said, giving the eighteen-year-old boy another smile.

She was right. Even though he had been keeping distance with Y/N for that long, he couldn't walk away knowing she would hate him and think she didn't mean anything to him. After all, she was still the girl he'd got into a fight for and risked getting sick as he walked in the rain to keep her safe. Even if his head told him she didn't matter, his heart knew she did.

After a moment, he finally nodded, and Tam didn't hesitate to turn her head and shouted upstairs,"Y/N, Harry is here to see you!"

"Wait," he spoke after a second thought. "Can you...can you tell her to meet me at our treehouse?"

"Sure, love," the woman said without asking why.

Harry thanked her and walked away quickly before Y/N came down and saw his face. He needed time to think about how to break the news without breaking her heart, and maybe his own.

It had been so long since he last visited their treehouse, and it was quite embarrassing how he had to struggle at first because he'd forgotten how to climb. He sat there on the floor like the night they first met, but this time he was nervous because he knew she was coming.

Harry turned his head as soon as he heard Y/N's voice at the entrance. He got up from the dusty wooden floor, smiling at the girl. Her eyes were still as bright as he remembered. He'd never told her, but all the emotions she was trying to hide always showed through her big eyes and gave away what she was actually feeling. But this time, it was hope that he saw in them. And he knew the goodbye was gonna be twice as hard as how he'd imagined it would be.

They sat down side by side on the edge of their little house with bare feet dangling in the air, listening to the cricket singing their summer song. He knew he was going to miss this, he was going to miss Holmes Chapel, and mostly he was going to miss her. Y/N seemed pretty quiet that night, so Harry had to initiate a conversation, asking her about school, about Celine, about her parent's constant fights. He also filled her in with most of the things that had happened to her in the past year, and kept her updated on his sister and his mum.

But eventually, he must say what he was there to say, "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. To London."

From the way her body stiffened as she heard those words, Harry had expected a different reaction from his little neighbor. However, she only laughed and asked him if he was joking. He wished it had been a joke, then it wouldn't have killed him to say it out loud. He told her about the scholarship, about being accepted into his dream school, and now he could finally follow his dream to become a famous actor. But she was quiet the whole time. He didn't know what she was thinking, he never did.

"I'll come back and visit you next summer," he said, not even sure if he could stay true to those words. But at least they would ease her mind. "I wanted to see you one last time before I left...Bambi, say something."

His Bambi turned to look at him with glistening eyes, and he silently begged her not to dissolve into tears because he wouldn't know what to do. But knowing Y/N, he was sure that she wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of him now that he was basically just a familiar stranger.

"I'm really happy for you, H," she said at last, putting on a smile. So he smiled back at her, reaching out to tuck a strand behind her ear. He told her to be strong when he wasn't around, and take care of herself, though she'd been doing just fine without him in the past year. And deep down, he hoped she would find a boy who wouldn't mind getting a black eye to make her happy. He couldn't be that boy, not anymore.

"This treehouse is all yours now," he told her. "Please look after it?"

"I will," she gave him her words. From the determination written on her face, he knew she would keep her promise, and somehow that made him happy. Maybe because he knew she didn't hated him like he assumed she would.

It was getting late, and he had to catch a train before sunrise. So Harry said his last goodbye to his little neighbor, telling her that they both should get some rest. But instead of letting him go, she cut him off just as he tried to say something else. "Harry...Can I ask you for one last favor?"

"Anything, kid. Tell me."

"Can you...Uhm...Will you..." She exhaled deeply and took his hand in hers. "Will you be my first kiss?"

The grin slowly faded from his face when he realized she was actually serious. "I don't think I should be your first kiss, Bambi. You should save it for the boy you like."

"But you...are the boy I like."

Harry was surprised to hear those words, yet not really. A part of him had always known she'd had a crush on him, but he assumed it would just disappear into thin air real soon. But after a year of acting like they didn't know each other, how could she still call him the boy she liked?

He wanted to lighten up the mood without hurting her feelings, yet he struggled to come up with what to say. But Y/N was impatient as always. She couldn't wait for a reply, probably because she knew she would never get one. So she just followed her instinct and cupped his face to bring her lips to his, only to pull away a second later. It was barely what one would call a kiss, but Harry was in shock and he couldn't even flinch. A fourteen-year-old had just kissed him on the lips. How could he possibly react in this situation? So he chose not to react.

He just sat there and watched her run back to the rope ladder. And the next moment she was gone, for good this time. He didn't think too much about the kiss even though it did put him in shock. But maybe it was for the best if her last memory of him was their moment on the treehouse and not him leaving her without saying goodbye. At least now he knew she wouldn't hate him forever.

She had been a big part of his childhood, and would always be a part of him. So as Harry watched her run back to her house, he truly hoped if they never met again, she would keep him in her memory if not in her heart.

For him, he would also do the same.

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, reaching for the warm body lying next to him, only to find the bed cold and empty. In an instant, he became frantic, thinking Y/N had gone. But it took him a second to calm down and remember he was at her place, not his. The girl hadn't even left the bed. She was just sitting up, holding her knees to her chest and staring at the window. She stayed very still when he crawled to her side.

"Bambi?" His voice was dreadfully quiet. "Are you...Why are you crying, love?" The left side of his chest ached when he saw a tear running down from the corner of her eyes. Slowly she turned to look at him, her lips trembled and her shoulders heaved with emotion when he pulled her to his chest.

"Is it because of me?" He sadly questioned, assuming it must be him. Maybe he shouldn't have been too rough when they had sex, maybe she regretted sleeping with him, maybe she was gonna tell him to leave and never see her again. His whole body tensed up in fear thinking all of those maybes could be true. But eventually, she shook her head no.

"I forgot my cup of tea," she whispered.

That answer left him confused. "Your cup of tea?"

Y/N nodded, staying utterly lifeless in his arms. "It keeps me from having nightmares."

"Is that why you always drink tea before bed?"

"Hmm," she hummed and buried her face into his chest, inhaling his cent as if to remind herself that she'd still got him. After a moment of silence and ragged breathing, she told him, "I saw my mum. She was standing right by a car. But before I could get to her, the car exploded, and all that was left was fire and smoke and the sound of my own screams..."

"Shh." He stroked her hair, pressing butterfly kisses to her forehead. It was then that he realized she was clinging to the locket he'd given her, somehow it put him at ease knowing his birthday gift could lend her some kind of emotional support when she felt afraid. "Want me to make you a cup of tea, love?"

"No. Just...don't let me go."

"Alright."

Harry laid her back down, this time with her back to his chest. When they clasped each other in a warm hug, Y/N could finally be calm enough to listen to the sound of the gentle night rain outside, feeling his chest rising and falling against her back, their breaths in unison.

For a second, Harry wished they could share their hearts as easily as sharing their body heat. He couldn't remember the last time he let another get close to him like this, but Y/N was special; though at the same time, being with her felt like carrying a time bomb. One wrong move and he was a goner, yet every time she tried to leave, it was him who convinced her to stay.

"I'll go to the wedding with you." Her voice pierced right through the silence of the room, causing his eyes to fly open. Y/N thought he didn't hear her, so she repeated the sentence once more, adding, "if your offer still stands."

"It does." He chuckled hoarsely. "What changed your mind though?"

"Thought I should stop running away from reality." That was her answer, nothing more. He didn't really get what she actually meant, but he didn't think she wanted him to ask, so he decided to let it go.

"When are you gonna leave?" She asked.

"Not tonight. I'm staying tonight."

Harry wasn't sure if when she said "leave", she meant him leaving her flat before she woke up, or him leaving her for good. But it didn't really matter. That answer would do for both meanings. Because no matter what happened to them in the future, he knew it wasn't gonna end tonight.

"Good," Y/N murmured with a tiny sigh, making Harry chuckle. His eyes gradually slipped closed, and a few minutes later, he went limp.

#my girl series #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #actor!harry #older!harry #younger!y/n

766 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Mother dragon (5); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey ya’ll okay I first want to say thank you so much for everyone who has taken an interest in this series. I thought no one would give it a shot but now I am in tears at seeing the messages that some of you give me about how much you like this series. And here I present to you, another part and there’s a special treat for you all inside but I won’t tell you what it is, you’ll just have to read and find out.

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

______________________________________________

Part 5

“Mum. Mum.” I groaned tiredly. “Mum wake up.” Oh god the one thing I never missed, even now that he’s practically full grown. I peeled my eyes open to see Deacy hovering over me.

“What is it?” I groaned out.

“Two questions; one what is that symbol on your right shoulder mean?” I peeked over to see my anti-possession tattoo and I said.

“Well,” I rubbed my eyes trying to wake myself up further as I explained, “You remember how I told you about demons?” he nodded and I said as I gestured to my tattoo, “Well once I turned 18, I got this done instead of having to deal with that necklace on all the time. This tattoo on my body makes me immune to demon possessions.”

“Ahh, and second. What’s that suit you’ve got in the closet?”

“What suit?” I asked. He stood up, walked over to my closet and revealed a secret latch which soon sent my secret falling out. I quickly got out of the bed and I said to him. “What have I told you about going through my stuff?”

“All I want to know is what it is? It’s not like I’ll tell the brothers. You know you can trust me.” I looked at him an of course those soft brown eyes made me butter up every single time. And now that he was an adult, it only just made him that much cuter.

“Okay, okay. But promise me you won’t tell them.”

“Would they even listen to me if I did?” my heart ached a little hearing that come out of his mouth. I walked up to him and grabbed the suit from the rope and placed it on my hidden mannequin. I also took from my drawers the blueprints I had made years ago and handed them to him.

“It’s just a fantasy really, but after remembering that time seeing you fly, I just felt this rush of adrenaline and thought ‘hell why can’t I make one?’ Wings here are made of a flexible but durable leather texture that kinda resemble bat wings. They’re controlled by these pulley here, pull the string and out they pop. The suit itself is light weight so it’s not as bulky as the 2012 Ironman suit in the Avengers, but it’s strong and bullet proof at least.”

“You know dragon skin is the toughest shield there is, even stronger than your regular bullet proof vests. Maybe we can rework the cover of the armor. Make it more dragonesque.” He said.

“We?”

“Yes. This is a really cool design mum. And I think once it’s fully ready we can take it for a test drive.”

“And how do you plan on doing that Mr. Smart guy? We’ll be spotted anywhere here in Kansas.”

“We’ll find a way. So how long did it take you to build this?”

“Well after helping Dean fix his baby, and him teaching me a thing or two about electrical engineering, about…..2 and a half years. Also taking in the time to work on cases with the boys, helping save the world a couple of times. The usual procrastination stuff.” He nodded and he said.

“This is a well-made suit mum. Finally joining team dragons are yah?”

“Again Deacy it’s just a fantasy. I don’t even know if this suit will even work, it’s never been tested out and I’ve had it done for 9 months now.”

“Yo (y/n)!” I heard Dean say from the other side of my door.

“Shit.” I muttered as I quickly hid the suit in my closet and shut it. I quickly turned towards Deacon and was shocked to realize that he was also shirtless. “Gah Deacy put your shirt back on.” I whispered to him as I frantically started trying to find where he had tossed his shirt but couldn’t find it anywhere?

“Why?”

“Because if Dean walks in and sees you like—this he’ll think we…..that you…..” but it was too late, Dean opened my door. He still wore his robe and dark blue nightshirt and shorts as well as his slippers.

“We need to—” Dean opened the door and the second he saw Deacon in my room shirtless, the tiredness immediately left his face as he turned between him and me. “I’mma get my gun.” He bluntly stated as he turned to walk out of my room.

“Dean…..” I stepped forward but he quickly turned around and got into a karate-style like defense position.

“If you truly believe that I would ever turn on my mother like how you’re thinking, you’re even sicker than I thought you were.” Deacy said as he sat down at the foot of my bed.

“Yeah then why the hell don’t you have a shirt on? More importantly why are you in her room?”

“Because you weren’t going to give him a room and dragons get antsy when they’re in unfamiliar places so I allowed him to stay here. Dean c’mon, not this early.”

“Come on? Are you kid…..Look…..This….moth—You and me. Library. Right now.” He spoke his last statement as he tied the strings of his robe around his waist closing his robe around him staring me down like a pissed off dad who caught his daughter having sex with her boyfriend. “Come on!” he pointed behind him emphasizing his demand.

I sighed heavily and turned to Deacy before walking out of my room. I could imagine Deacon trying to follow me because next thing I knew, Dean stopped Deacon by crying out at like he was disciplining a dog.

We reached the library and there I saw Sam as well as Cas.

“Cass, well this is a surprise.”

“Hello (y/n).” he greeted me.

“Hey young lady, we still need to talk about what happened back there.” Dean said as he came into the library. I sighed annoyed as Sam said.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

“I found our little lizard guest was shirtless as he slept with his ‘mother’.”

“Dean I’m gonna ask you as nicely as I can. Can you please get your head out of your ass by this much so that I can explain myself?!” I rubbed my temples and continued, “Nothing happened, okay. When I went to bed he had a shirt on, okay?”

“Should I even ask what this is all about?” asked Cass confused.

“We’ve got a dragon in the bunker.” Explained Sam.

“A—a what?!”

“Yeah a dragon, they still exist and she’s the mother of the one we got.” Dean stated bluntly.

“How—”

“It’s a long story, we’ll fill you in later.” Sam explained.

“But…..how were you not captured? Dragons are attracted to virgin women, that dragon should’ve take you to its den.” Cass said.

“Yes, thank you Cass. I know how dragons are around women.” I sneered.

“Sorry it’s just that. Dragons are attracted to the smell of virgin women and if they aren’t virgins then, they lash out aggressively.” Cass continued to explain not helping my cause.

“Oh god (y/n) please tell you’re—” Dean started off and that’s when I proclaimed.

“Seriously?! When would I have time to give away my V card guys? I’ve lived in the woods for 6 years of my life, most of my teenage life trying to survive. I was in the system for two till I was legal and by then I met you two knuckleheads. When exactly would I have time to have a one night stand with someone?”

“Are we still on the discussion whether I’ll take my mum away from you all?” Deacon’s voice soon piped up. We turned around and I saw that Deacon was now dressed in one of Dean’s shirts as well as a pair of his jeans.

“Is that my Led Zeppelin shirt?” Dean snapped.

“Dean don’t.” I said.

“There’s another one of you here. But he’s not human.” Deacon spoke up wearily as he stared Cass down.

“Cass, this is my adopted son Deacon. I found him shortly after he was hatched. Deacy, this is Castiel he’s……”

“I’m an angel of the Lord.” He spoke up for me. Deacon’s eyes widened before he turned to Cass.

“It’s okay Deacy, he’s not like that last angel you and I encountered. You can trust Cass” I assured him. He hummed and nodded before saying.

“As I was saying earlier, I’ve known my mother since I was a few days old. Barely enough time to fully imprint with my real mother. (Y/n) has filled in the rest of the imprint of being my mother and that’s all I see her as. Not a threat, not prey, not an obsession. Just my mother, and nothing else.” I walked over towards Deacy.

He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled into my neck affectionately as I heard the soft purrs coming out of him. I stroked through his long hair and said.

“And that’s all I see Deacon as. Not a lover, not a monster, and most certainly not a soulless beast, but my son.”

*3rd Person POV*

Dean was currently going through the Men of Letter’s library, trying to find anything about dragons that they might have found. He was also using Sam’s laptop to do some basic animal researching on imprinting, of course most of the search revolved around the Twilight movies but the stuff he did manage to find basically stated the same thing.

“Dude how many times have I told you not to use my laptop? Last time you used it; it froze for a month all because of your Asian porn searching.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist Sammy, I’m actually doing some real research this time.”

“And what would that be?”

“Dragons and imprinting. I’m still not buying this crap Deacon’s saying.”

“Well what all have you found out?” Sam asked as he sat down in front of his brother.

“Well the Men of Letters say in this book of how ‘dragons always claim a female virgin in order to sustain their lustful urges.’ Nothing about imprinting or whether a dragon could imprint on a human at the first few moments of birth.”

“What have you found out about Imprinting?”

“Basically the same thing that when an animal is born, the first thing they see they child-parental bond is formed. The animal will just follow you like a lost puppy. Kinda like you do most days.” Sam looked at his brother and he said.

“And both (y/n) and Deacon have said that it was just a few days after he ‘hatched’ that they both met each other.”

“Exactly. Plus it’s been what—seven years since they’ve seen each other. Who knows what that guy’s been up to since then. What if he came into contact with another dragon? Could’ve been taught how to be a real dragon, fallen off the wagon?”

“That is a possibility. I mean it happens with cats and dogs if they become strays for a certain amount of years. But I have to ask, why would he not take her to his nest? Why let her stay back at her old home and not take her away?”

“It could be a play. After all he was raised by (y/n). She’s clever.”

“Yeah but Dean maybe—maybe there’s a chance that Deacon is different than the dragons we encountered a few years back after I got my soul back.”

“Until I see something about it, then Deacon’s still a menace and a danger to (y/n). Now why don’t you help me out here and see if you can find anything that I’m missing here.”

Reluctantly but understanding of where Dean was coming from, Sam picked up another book and began reading as closely as he could through every word and every page on the behavior of dragons.

*My POV*

I was out for my mid-morning run through the woods, I had allowed Deacon to make some adjustments that he saw would benefit my dragon armor and make it even more authentic. I soon stopped panting softly at a cliff’s edge that overlooked the lower levels of the forests.

“Hello (y/n).” I jumped a bit but knew that it was only Cass.

“Damnit Cass how many times must we go through this? Had I not already been through this, I would’ve probably fallen over the cliff.”

“Sorry.” I waved off the apology and said.

“What is it that you came out here for? I know you’ve got something on your mind.”

“It’s about Deacon.”

“Why what’s happened? Is he okay? Did Dean do something to him? If he did I swear to God—”

“He’s fine. It’s more so about your relationship with Deacon than anything else.” I sighed heavily and said.

“Cass please—”

“You are aware of what he is right?”

“Yes Cass I’ve known since the beginning. I came across his mother’s corpse at 11 years old. I watched as poachers, not hunters, poachers which means they hunt for sport, not protection. Come up to her and started admiring her cold, dead corpse and talking about how much they were going to make off of her piece. By piece. If I didn’t allow Deacon to come with me, he would’ve been sold off too, if not killed, while still looking like a 6 year old boy.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. But (y/n) that was all in the past. It’s been years since you’ve seen Deacon. How do you know he won’t revert back to what a dragon is supposed to do?”

“If he had, don’t you think I wouldn’t be here?”

“Some dragons bait their victims on. Don’t you think Deacon could’ve gotten in contact with other dragons and they taught him how to behave like a real one?” I refused to answer that because Deacon already told me everything.

“What exactly are you trying to say Cass? Stop with the riddles and just say it to my face.”

“Deacon’s now a full grown dragon. It wouldn’t be safe for you to have him at this rate. He’s not some pet that you can keep—”

“Didn’t I just say back there that he’s not a pet. I don’t see him as one. He’s my son.”

“And as a parent you must know that all children grow up. While we are grateful to him for saving you from the Vetala pack, he—he has to go back to his home. Wherever that is.” Oh I see where this is going.

“Well I hate to disappoint you Cass, but he’s not going anywhere. As his mother he’s going to stay here. I’ve been searching for him for seven years. I thought he had been killed, and now that I’ve found him, he’s never leaving my side again. I can take care of him, protect him and ensure that no hunter goes after him.”

“(Y/n), you’re not thinking clearly. He’s built his own life somehow. I know he’s told you that. What if he has a mate back home? Children? They’ll need him.” But as Cass kept ranting on trying to get me to see reason, I heard something in the air.

It was a deep, low wind gust. But I knew better, it didn’t sound like wind at all. Plus I have been out here for over an hour and no wind has blown yet, in fact the weather said there wouldn’t be any wind today.

“Cass be quiet.” I said.

“No (y/n) you need to hear—”

“No, no serious quiet!” I was alert and Cass seemed to sense something as well.

“What was that?” my stomach dropped and I muttered.

“Cass get down.” Then suddenly flying right up the cliff’s edge were two large dragons.

One was a massive spiked dark dragon with red like fins decorated down along it’s neck. It also sported a couple of horns at the side of it’s head but it was definitely bigger than how I’ve seen Deacy’s dragon form. The other dragon was smaller than the first and almost appeared like a cross between dragon and an owl.

It’s owl-like face sported a crown of horns and fins kinda like a lionfish and it’s scales consisted mainly orange and brown.

The two dragons circled around me and Cass who was holding me close to him as the two of us had ducked down so that we wouldn’t be blown away by the wind gust that I knew dragons had. They both let out roars as they finally hovered over us, and what was shocking to see with the owl-like dragon was that it’s two large wings suddenly split into four wings.

It tilted it’s head in a straight vertical line as it’s huge golden eyes stared directly at me. It turned towards the bigger dragon grumbling out a low roar, almost as if they were speaking to each other. The bigger dragon glared down at me with hateful eyes as it let out a low growl before roaring down at me.

Both Cass and I covered our ears at the agonizing loudness of the roar. But what we didn’t know was that suddenly appearing out of the woods was another dragon. However compared to the two others, it was more of a giant serpent. Cass turned around and suddenly there was just the force of being knocked forward before I found myself in the clutches of this serpent dragon.

I soon found myself being flown hundreds of feet into the air and I looked up at the black and gold dragon that now had me in it’s claws. I soon heard the sound of grunting and I looked down towards the tail and saw Cass hanging on for dear life.

He placed his finger to his lips trying not to let me give away his cover but the large black dragon huffed and roared at the dragon that had me as its attention turned towards Cass.

The giant serpent dragon then whipped it’s whip-like tail trying to get Cass off of him. Cass tried to hold on as best as he could but all it took was just three whips to finally send him flying back down to earth.

“NOOO!!! CASS!!!” I cried out as he got smaller and smaller before I finally lost him as me and the dragons flew higher and higher. Due to the insane air pressure the higher we flew, I must’ve ended up passing out because next thing I saw was nothing but darkness and I kept muttering Cass’s name as well as Sam’s, Dean’s and Deacon’s.

*3rd Person POV*

Cass fell about 1000 feet straight back down towards the forest and the second he fell to the ground, the only thing he saw were the three giant figures of the dragons flying away from him.

“(Y/n)……no, no (y/n)…..” he tried to get up but his body was in pain from the sudden impact, the last thing he saw were the dragons taking away his dear friend.

As the dragons continued flying higher and higher beyond the clouds. The owl-like dragon’s eyes did something that no other dragon’s could do. They suddenly glowed pure gold and suddenly appearing out in the air was a portal.

One by one each of the dragons flew through the portal and once the serpent like dragon’s full body went through it, the portal closed and disappeared, just as quickly as it had appeared.

The dragons now came upon a series of mountain cliffs filled with nothing but greenery and sea water. They flew through the mountain terrain through the entrance of a cave until finally arriving at a nesting area within the mountain.

Hundreds of dragons soon awoke from their slumber to see the three dragons reenter the picture with a human intact. The serpent dragon gently set (y/n) down before backing away. The owl-like dragon soon came up and as it walked toward (y/n) it changed from a dragon to human as did the other two.

As (y/n) was slowly coming around, she groaned and looked up and through a blurry vision, she saw a man staring down at her with a tuff of short brown hair, the scruff of a beard going all over his face and deep blue eyes staring down at her. She heard the low rumble of dragon growls before she passed out once more.

“Is she dead?” The brown haired dragon turned towards the other two. One was an Egyptian man with short black hair, a strong jawline and blue eyes much like the owl-like dragon has in his human form but not quite as deep. The other male who had asked the question had messy, curly blond hair and had greenish eyes.

He was more strongly built and he just seemed to have the Alpha-like stance and attitude, and around his face were old faded battle scars. The dragon who was standing over (y/n) then answered.

“No, humans don’t have the compacity to withstand sudden high altitude elevation. She’ll live though.”

“Good. Wouldn’t be too sporty of me to kill her if she’s already dead.”

“Easy Warren, we know how you feel about humans but there’s questions that need to be answered.” Spoke the Egyptian.

“Apophis is right. Like who she is and why she’s swarmed with Deacon’s scent.” Answered the brunette.

52 notes · View notes

mrtroy · 4 years

Text

The Scores Have Changed, My Childhood Is Over, and I Think I Might Understand How Other People Look At Sports

Originally from December 5th, 2010

To say that the last twenty plus years of my life have been completely and hopelessly consumed by sports may be the grossest understatement I have ever put into print, yet until just recently, I don't think I had a grasp on what a more "normal" sports following could be like. I'm still not sure I am willing to accept this concept of "social sports fan-dom" as I'll call it, but it might be worth a prolonged look.

Let me explain.

I suppose that to best understand where I'm at now, it might be best to understand where I am coming from. I think I need to blame my mom for setting me off on this crazed obsession, or maybe the blame should go the Oakland A's for the utterly disappointing display they put on in the 1990 World Series. As I had really started to get into baseball in the Summer of '90, Mom had the great idea of taping the World Series. While other 5 year-olds were perfectly content watching Mr. Rogers zip up his cardigan every morning, Mom knew that if she was lucky a good World Series could provide my baseball fiending mind with seven games of pure VHS-driven bliss. At roughly 3 hours a game, played back ten times each, Mom would have 200 hours of fodder to answer the question, "Mom, when are they going to start playing new games again."

And then, Jose Rijo, Barry Larkin, Chris Sabo and the Don't Stand A Chance Reds had to ruin everything. It wasn't so much the fact that they won the series as it was that they did it in such decisive fashion that added insult to injury. Four games, and it was over. The minimum. The very least. And worse, Game 1 was a 7-0 blanking, and Game 3 was a convincing 8-3 rout in which the Reds put up 7 in the third, and the rest of the game was a mere formality. Translation: My to-be friends of 18 years later, Nathan Clinkenbeard, and Nate Kohrs, rejoiced as their Reds won it all, but more relevant to the situation at the time, I was left without much good winter baseball to tide me over until April.

I watched the tape, and all I wanted to do was to be able to break a bat on my back the way I had seen Reds journeymen outfielder Glenn Braggs do it. I emulated the overly pronounced batting crouch of Rickey Henderson, and began to wonder how Harold Baines could hit a ball so far, despite never looking like he was even swinging hard enough to hit the ball as far as I did in T-Ball.

In '91 things worsened. For some reason I got the Pittsburgh Pirates lineup in my head, and every day in the back yard I would throw the ball up to myself, hit the ball, run around imaginary bases, take a break to become an imaginary outfielder to retrieve the ball, and then switch back to being the base runner to continue running. Every day, it was Cubs and Pirates. I can remember getting mad at myself, and actually sitting down and pouting for extended periods of time because when it came time for Sid Bream's at-bat I ran too fast. Sid was a notoriously slow runner in real life, and I wanted to maintain a certain level of realism in my one-man re-enactments. Apparently in my excitement I had forgotten who I was supposed to be impersonating, and run too fast. In my six-year old world, this was enough to ruin my day.

The Fall came, and with it a Fall Classic for the ages. Why Mom didn't tape this one, I'll never know. Although, if she had, I may still be watching it. The Braves and Twins treated me to seven games of pure ecstasy. Although, all I cared about was the sweet headstand that Greg Olsen went into after a collision at the plate. Sports Illustrated put Olsen on the cover, and I spent all winter trying to duplicate the feat in my basement. Here's a look at the photo; it's a miracle I didn't break my neck. ( http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/cover/featured/9301/index.htm )

It was also in '91 that I first realized there were other sports other than baseball, as the Bulls were on their way to capturing their first title. I don't remember much of the season, other than laying on the floor with a basketball in my hand trying to mimic the Michael Jordan poster in my room.

History seemed to repeat itself over the next few years. The Bulls won another title and the Braves were in the World Series again in '92. I was incredulous to the fact that Otis Nixon would try and bunt his way on while representing the Atlanta's last shot to extend the series. I was mad about that until about March of '93 until Mom and Dad packed my brother and I into a conversion van and we set our sites on Mesa, Arizona for Cubs spring training. We ran into Cubs' pitcher Mike Morgan in the parking lot, he gave my mom his hat, and sent me into a swoon of idol-worshiping that would last even longer than Morgan managed to bounce around the big leagues.

**Side Tangent** I remember being in a bar in the Phoenix area eating dinner, and everyone was going crazy about the Phoenix Suns as they were on their way to meeting the Bulls in the Finals. And yet, all I cared about was that Steve

Buechele, Cubs third baseman was sitting a few tables away. I remember my French fries getting cold because I was too mesmerized to eat.

Later in '93 the Toronto Blue Jays won another World Series, and I began to understand for the first time what it was like to feel compassion. Mitch Williams gave up the famous home run to Joe Carter that sent Canada into a a frenzy, and while everyone was celebrating, all I could think about was how mad people were going to be at Mitch Williams for blowing it.

1994, my life almost came to a screeching halt. The day before I turned 9, the Major League Baseball Players strike started, and eventually culminated with the cancellation of the World Series. You may as well have cancelled my birthday, Christmas, New Years, Easter and any other meaningful holiday. We're talking total devastation.

Luckily in '95 baseball came back with a new playoff system, and I had spent the entire off season reading. It was about this time in school that we had to do free reading every day, and we had to write about it. Our school library had a seven or eight book series highlighting the different aspects of baseball that someone could be good at. The books were entitled, "Speed," "Power," "Pitching" etc. I read these books over and over. They were large format books that I think I would consider to be rotating coffee table material if I came across them today. Little matter, I read them cover to cover, and they had these charts that listed the all-time leaders in many of baseball's statistical categories. After a while, I'd just read the charts. Time, and time again. For some reason, knowing who was the best at certain things excited me. Even if this person had been dead for 60 years. The pages came alive in my mind, and even though I had never seen Ty Cobb play, never known anyone who had, or had any rooting interest for his team, the Detroit Tigers, I was fascinated by what the numerical data next to his name could teach me about him. I would later go on to read that Tyrus Raymond Cobb (I developed a penchant for knowing players full names) was not so much of a good guy, but actually was a mean spirited bigot. It was at this time that I remember being glad that many of his most hallowed records had been broken.

Around this time I also discovered that each morning the glorious, glorious sports editors at The Chicago Tribune published box scores for all the major sports action from the night before. It was an unbelievable development. Now I had happened upon a way to read new and evolving history, every morning. League leaders in all the statistical categories, short recaps of what had happened, and overall numbers galore; every day was better than the last. Ken Griffey Jr. was tearing up the American League with home runs on what seemed to be a daily basis. On the other side of the page in the paper, Greg Maddux was shutting down the National League, and further cementing himself as the best pitcher of his generation, (in my mind at least) and elevating himself to Greek God-like status in the mind of my father.

It was at this time that the foundation for my current sports revelation first planted its seeds. Although, I didn't know it at the time. I was too busy counting home runs to realize what was going on, but inside there was also this great love of Maddux developing as well. This really had nothing to do with Maddux himself, as he had moved on from the Cubs to the Braves a few years earlier, and I could no longer watch him on a day to day basis. This had all to do with Pops. Seeing my father get such enjoyment out of simply reading that Maddux shutout another opponent was very cool to me. And, as is the case with many father-son duos, I loved Maddux because Pops loved Maddux.

These trends continued. I read as much baseball statistical data as I could get my hands on, and I looked to Pops to find new interests to follow in the paper each morning.

Lots of guys rose to prominence at this time. But it wasn't necessarily the guys that were established that caught my eye. It was the young guys. Despite the fact that Maddux would go on to play for more than twenty years, he was old news by the time I really got into following this sort of thing. He was Pops' guy. Pops didn't much care for the new-age stars like a Ken Griffey Jr., but we could agree on a guy like Chipper Jones, the all-American can't miss kid, or Derek Jeter the emerging star of the Yankees. We weren't fans of their teams, but they were in the post season every year, and it was easy to watch them progress.

Then came the star of stars for Pops and I. Tiger Woods. Pops had been reading up on him for years, and by the time he burst onto the scene in '96, Pops had already drank about six quarts of the Tiger Koolaid. Every week our love grew, with every major championship, it wasn't just that Tiger had won, it was as if Pops and I had won. We won because we had followed him, we had read about him, and along with millions of others, we knew he was going to be good. And, every time he won, he elevated himself further into this land of unthinkable admiration. Never before had there been an athlete of whom I had come to expect so much from that had actually been able to deliver. Not only had he been able to deliver, but each time he delivered, he seemed to do it in such a way that I couldn't help but just think, man, I love this guy.

Time continued on, and my enthrallment with the games that these men played continued to grow. '96 marked the beginning of the Yankees run of dominance, and with it much reading of Yankee lore. Also I remember teaching Mom how to keep a proper score book for a baseball game. We'd watch the World Series, and while she didn't know Mariano Duncan from Duncan Hines, she came to learn that if there was a ground ball to Mariano at second, she would enter a 4-3 in the score book as soon as he recorded the out at first base.

As the numerical world inside my head expanded further, It may not shock you to learn that my abilities on the field experienced an inverse reaction. Once in possession of an above average fastball and an hefty appetite for shagging fly balls, by the time freshmen year of high school rolled around, my role on the high school baseball team had been reduced to pencil pushing scorekeeper, infield practice facilitator, and blowout mop-up inning specialist. This didn't so much bother me, as I recall an instance where I rushed out of an early season practice so my mom could drop me off at a fantasy baseball draft where I was the youngest guy in the room by about 30 years. (I picked up Mike Sweeney late in that draft, and was smiling cheek to cheek all season as he hit well over .300) My uncle Tony was nice enough to let me tag along in his fantasy league for years, and I remember the best day of the week being when the old stat packets would show up in the mail, and I'd spend all afternoon breaking down what the other team owners were doing, and what we could do to improve on our perpetual 7th place standing. This was before all of the fantasy sports had moved to the Internet, and while I have come to appreciate the ease in which I can stay connected to fantasy sports nowadays, there was something magical about tearing open that envelope to find out that we'd moved up a half a point, and were now only a point and a half out of 6th place!!

Eventually the Internet won out for statistical tracking, and while I was sad, this transition gave me access to entire portals of data that were completely dedicated to my passions. Living with my buddy Ed Liss my freshmen year of college, he must have thought I owned a partial stake in www.basketball-reference.com. While I wasn't much of an NBA fan at this point, the historical standings, all-time leader boards, and player searching capabilities kept me occupied for hours on end. In fact, my choice of the University of Illinois to go to college in the first place was a choice that I made in large part due to the Big Ten sporting atmosphere that I knew I'd experience while I was there.

Jeff Renfro and I lived and died along with every play of the Illini's historic run to the Final Four in 2004-05, and I'll never forget going to games in the years following with Melissa Colgan, Suzan Balch, Gregg Conn, and countless others. I wore my Luther Head # 4 shirt to every game, and for something like 41 times in a row, if I wore the shirt, the team didn't lose. It was unbelievable.

In 2008, the Illini football team made a rare appearance in the Rose Bowl, and took on the heavily favored Trojans of USC. The family made the trek out to Pasadena for the game, only to watch our team get thoroughly trounced. Walking out of the stadium, if I would have had a tail, it would have been tightly tucked away between my legs as if I were a puppy who had just ruined a garden full of freshly planted petunias. The Illini had been humiliated, and so too had I.

I'm not sure if my transformation really started because the teams I rooted for never won, or if it was just gaining a new perspective that can only come with growing up, but I started to realize, maybe the keys to the games didn't so much lie in the encrypted world of statistics.

Time passed and one by one, the sports heroes of my childhood faded away. Maddux retired after the '08 season, and watching Ken Griffey Jr. limp through his final days in Seattle early in the 2010 season really put the nail in the coffin of my childhood. Sure, I was 25 years old at this point, and far from actually being a child, but here was the guy whose jersey I had, baseball cleats I had, video games I played, baseball cards I collected, and the guy who I had simply first known as "The Kid." And here he was, 40 years old and unable to keep his legs healthy enough to play every day. I may not have been a kid anymore, but Ken Griffey Jr. was my childhood.

And so I thought, "This is what it was like for Yankee fans as they watched Mickey Mantle hobble around the bases in 1968? This was the anguish of watching Johnny Unitas try and hang on with the Chargers, or Willie Mays with the Mets?" The unmistakable ending of an era, right before your eyes.

It was awful.

No amount of statistical data could save me, either. On the stat sheet, Griffey Jr. may have hit 630 career home runs, but that was just it, at this point, those were just stats. They were history. The guy who could never get old, got old. And just like that, he was gone. Next thing I knew, Chipper Jones tore his ACL, and there is a good chance his career could be coming to an end shortly. Somehow Derek Jeter is 36 now and has just negotiated the final contract of his career. All of these guys that I associated with my childhood, they're old. Sure, there are always new players, and there will always be guys to make assaults on the record books, but unfortunately for me, for every new young star that comes along, I'm no longer going to be that little boy who doesn't know any better than to worship the ground on which he stands. The innocence it takes to one day envision yourself running the bases at Wrigley Field or Yankee Stadium, these thoughts can only be conjured up by the mind of a pre-pubescent teen. I'm sure a new young star will enter the game in the coming years, and there's a good chance I'll admire the level at which he's honed his skills, but there's no way he'll turn me into a major leaguer, the way I thought Ken Griffey Jr. could.

Maybe that's why golf, despite being what most would call a boring game, has endured over time and remained relevant. In no other sport can a guy like Jack Nicklaus win major championships 24 years apart, or a guy like Tom Watson compete a few months shy of his 60th birthday for an Open Championship. For any average 50 year-old watching Watson toil at Turnberry, an opportunity arose for them to remember back to when the same guy did they same thing at the same course- when they were in high school. Just think of that.

All of this leads me back to Tiger Woods. My sports equivalent to a Lord and Savior. Mine and Pops guy. The same guy who prompted Pops to call me in June of 2008 when I was at the College Baseball World Series in Omaha, Nebraska, just so Pops could channel his inner Dan Hicks and give me the play by play of Tiger's famous putt.

"He's lining it up. Now he's walking around it. You know, looking at it from every angle, like he always does. He really seems to be taking longer than he usually does on this one..."

At this point, the baseball game I'm watching is in between innings, and not much was going on, but Pops continued.

"Alright, I think he's finally ready. I think it's about 18 feet or so. He putts it. And....Ohhh my gosh Matt, HE MADE IT. HE MADE IT. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. HE MADE IT!!"

At this point, I let out a loud cheer 450 miles away in Omaha. I'm sure the people around me were looking at me like I was crazy, but at this point, I didn't care. Tiger had done it! The guy was playing with a torn ACL, and a broken leg, and the next day he would go on to with the U.S. Open. This is the kind of legend that Mark Twain couldn't write, and Steven Spielberg couldn't make any more sensational.

A year and a half later when the world came to find out that Tiger wasn't exactly the guy everyone thought he was, I was crushed. While his feats on the golf course should not be diminished in light of the details that came out of his personal life, the mystique and the aura that he carried with him could never be the same. Steroids rocked baseball, the NBA after Michael Jordan lacked the luster that it once had, the NFL, while great, had never had quite standing in my sports universe, but this was more than those combined. This was fifteen years of bonding between my father and I that all the sudden seemed hollow. Sure, those events that we cheered about still happened, but the big part of what made it so special was the fact that it was Tiger, and up to that point, he had represented all of the things that my parents had tried to teach me to be. A hard worker, a fierce competitor, and a well-rounded individual away from sports. I should be clear in emphasizing that my parents never told me to emulate Tiger, or any athlete for that matter, yet his case just so happened to be one was easily relate-able. With the deeper meaning of what Tiger meant to my father and I now in question, I was sent searching.

This all helped me realize that being a sports fan is not about the people who play them, or the stats they accumulate.

You can say that I'm going "soft," or that in this moment in time I must be feeling overly sentimental, but, I think I'm ready to come to grips with the fact that being a sports fan is about sharing your rooting interest with those around you.

Really? You had to spend thousands of words to figure that out, genius?

I never thought I'd say it, but being able to share these moments with others means more than a box score ever could. Sure winning helps, but the jubilation I watched my friends experience when the White Sox won the World Series in 2005, or the way people partied when the Bears advanced to the Super Bowl after the 2006 season, none of that would have existed in a vacuum. Sure, you'd be excited if a team you'd rooted for your whole life finally achieved their goal and won something, but being able to call up your dad, or party with your buddies, or text your uncle, those are the things you remember.

I look back fondly on that U.S. Open, not for how it turned out, but for the memories I have with my father. I think back to the Final Four with Renfro reduced to tears as we watched players from North Carolina cut down the nets. I remember an Illini basketball game where it appeared as though Rich McBride had hit a last second shot to beat Penn State. The shot was later overturned, but my memory of clutching the arm of my friend Jessica Young, hoping against hope that somehow they'd overrule the call can't be taken from me. The Rose Bowl from '08, my most indelible memories are of my friends Tim and Meghan Michaels having a comical battle with their GPS as we drove around LA. To this day I don't watch an Illini fooball game without thinking of Steve Contorno and his detest for my old E.B. Halsey Illini football jersey. Halsey has moved on, and the jersey is gathering dust in my closet, but that one little morsel of a fact has been enough for Steve and I to remain friends five years after the fact.

The fantasy sports I play today, I no longer have rabid tendencies to devour stats, or prove to anyone that I'm smarter than they are. In fact, the playful ribbing of a Steve Hild, or the incessant banter of Jeff Lizzo, Kevin Barry and Drew Stiling mean more to me than winning a fantasy league title ever could.

I often wondered as people sat in the stands at games, or watched on TV, how they could fully enjoy the experience without knowing that the last time there had been a statistical oddity like this or that was in 1974, and before that 1921, and so on and so on. Rather, I've moved on. Beyond all the statistics, and all the analysis lies the significance of human emotion. And while I may never be able to quantify it, and it may have taken me longer than most to come to this conclusion, it really is what sports are all about.

0 notes

limejuicer1862 · 4 years

Text

May 2

..scratching..

quiet now

we can hear the birds no problem one lorry on the road essential travel

then

we hear the scratching

when dark comes comes the scuttlings

flutterings outside

bats fly round our houses

inside others live and die

the fly

the moth comes lovely soft and tasteful

nothing distasteful

we saves them lifts them out the bath a dry flannel as assistance

remember that fly in the room you wanted to swat for annoying. left alone it went quietly away

night came full of sounds

mice scratching enough to leave

marks

enough to leave marks

the fly does

buzz when it flies buzz as it dies

zzzzzt

-sonia benskin mesher

Inclined to mention the halo of a mountain, somewhere I am fourteen years old. This is a mountain behind a house where I still remain, in this thought-process, every child chews spearmint gum. It is definitely spearmint gum, and the mountain is only a halo, now, this time, elsewhere. Like, I don’t know, like Mark Fisher says, this stasis has been buried – ‘the inventor of the term, a frustrating thinker’.

In the summer’s taped shut windows, without seeing flies in years.

Hit mosquitos against the wall, once observing blood left behind.

-Alex Mazey

Geyser

Soul rumbles as grumble dark bellows push their boiling fist. Hot drops, boiled rain.

Angry fats splatter into faint signs, streaks of early mournful light.

Fire waters bubble and churn chained by conventions, damned by convection. In breaking songs of earth’s heat, brash displays of prorogued grief.

Water crouches, fluid evasive. As pain it cannot be broken. Desire free to flow, hurt a haunt of generations.

So strictures die and violence will be a multiple of passing times.

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/geyser.m4a

-©️ Dai Fry 1st May 2020.

In memory of those left behind : 9 December 2019

Sun’s first sleep-breath sweets the dropped shoulder of te puia whakaari, her bones

in early mistlight, are all grace and delicate pickings, gulled clavicles of a hard dancer, stilled. Coiled tension, resting.

It is hard to recognise a haunting, in the rose-gilt of sunrise. Do you know her name? When you recognised it, did you forget to exhale? Release your living now to cloud

the pane we do not see – watch deep scratches creep across this vision. The guardians are always here, and the light oh the light may change any moment.

-Ankh Spice

The Yellow Forest

Awakening – Dry mouth burning eyes skin burn, breathe. Pin point vision echoing mission failed fission, inhale. Heavy feet slow reaction no connection – A siren a siren! Wake up stand up react retract, breathe.

Forest Walk – Dislodge move seek react engage stop! Burning embers leaves glowing eagles falling feathers floating, breathe. Listen observe – A lark hark the warning A flash a flash, breathe. Eyes open sight broken, breathe.

Chokehold – Black river dead fish foul odour slow down, Breathe. Soil on fire charcoal roots sprouting rotten fruit – Stop smell retreat, breathe. Dead of night presence sucking remaining air laboured breathing heartbeat slowing – Find the opening, breathe. Look beware – Run!

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/the-yellow-forest-mp3.mp3

The Gamdroela

Far beyond the Hottentotshuisie Mountains, a mythical creature awaits to reward the chosen one – Elected by the Bokmakierie Korrelkop, a strange elusive soothsayer, traditionally enshrined to make a wise choice – A new ruler for the remote Belhar nation to once again wear the sacred crown of Sekueb Nodmai, she whose voice still echo from deep within the Bolemakiesie marshlands – A treacherous journey awaits the young Tandpyn, Prince of the Bloekomboom tree nation, whose Lands have nearly been scorched bare by the Fiery blizzards of Macassar – Now charged with the ultimate sacrifice, crossing the Moddergat fynbos wetlands to eventually reach the steep trail leading up to Fluweeltjie – Lair of the ancient Gamdroela , a kleurvolle Colourful but powerful oracle who will Decide on the worthiness of the young Tandpyn…

-Don Beukes

The Dream

I had a dream last night Of walking thru a forest-like place Filled with earthy illuminances

I could barely make out the sharp Round edges of branches and limbs Bathed in a heavenly glow

These trees, so strange yet so familiar These giants, so murky yet so real Their aromatic odors filled my essence

And for the briefest of moments I believed to be back home among these ancient pines Until my eyes opened to the sterile white walls

-Carrie Ann Golden

Fly Away, Dream

When television broadcasting Ended after late night news And comedy shows, yellow, blue, magenta hues

On test patterns Would send humanity To bed, to fly away wistfully,

As on insect wings, To a place of dreams And endless possibilities.

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/fly-away-dream.m4a

-st

flaiku

what to us is dross is a rainbow to the fly perspective is key

-Rich Follett

Her Splash Of Veins

flutters, is still, proboscis twitch. Flutters, is still, twitch.

Splash of wheat in fields, Flutters as flywings.

Strands of wheat flywalk skin as she passes she swats the touch away.

Till as she treads down more stalks into the unmade bread of the field bunches of wheat stroke her thighs and she smiles at the bright sun of it all.

Snatches a stalk, lets it hang from her mouth a proboscis tremble in the gust of her dreams of flight above the ready to be harvested grain rises toward sun blaze newly risen

warm bread a splash of veins in full colour, breathes in her baked youth like goodness.

https://thewombwellrainbow.files.wordpress.com/2020/05/her-splash-of-veins.m4a

-Paul Brookes Bios and Links

-Alex Mazey

(b.1991) received his MA (distinction) from Keele University in 2017. He later won The Roy Fisher Prize for Poetry with his debut pamphlet, ‘Bread and Salt’ (Flarestack, TBA). He was also the recipient of a Creative Future Writers’ Award in 2019. His poetry has featured regularly in anthologies and literary press magazines, most notably in The London Magazine. His collection of essays, ‘Living in Disneyland’, will be available from Broken Sleep Books in October 2020. Alex spent 2018 as a resident of The People’s Republic of China, where he taught the English Language in a school run by the Ministry of Education. His writing has been described as ‘wry and knowing,’ with ‘an edge that tears rather than cuts or deals blows.’

Twitter: @AlexzanderMazey

Instagram: alexmazey

Here is my interview of Alex:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2018/12/18/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-alex-mazey/

-Rich Follett

is a High School English and Creative Writing teacher who has been writing poems and songs for more than forty years. His poems have been featured in numerous online and print journals, including BlazeVox, The Montucky Review, Paraphilia, Leaf Garden Press and the late Felino Soriano’s CounterExample Poetics, for which he was a featured artist. Three volumes of poetry, Responsorials (with Constance Stadler), Silence, Inhabited, and Human &c. are available through NeoPoiesis Press (www.neopoiesispress.com.)

As a singer-songwriter, Rich has released five albums of independent contemporary folk music. His latest. Somewhere in the Stars, is available at http://www.richfollett.com. He lives with his wife Mary Ruth Alred Follett in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, where he also pursues his interests as a professional actor, playwright, and director.

-Ankh Spice

is a sea-obsessed poet from Aotearoa (NZ). His poetry has appeared in a wide range of international publications and has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He truly believes that words have the power to change the place we’re in, and you’ll find him doing his best to prove it on

Twitter: @SeaGoatScreams or on Facebook: @AnkhSpiceSeaGoatScreamsPoetry

-Carrie Ann Golden

is a deafblind writer from the mystical Adirondack Mountains now living on a farmstead in northeastern North Dakota. She writes dark fiction and poetry. Her work has been published in places like Piker Press, Edify Fiction, Doll Hospital Journal, The Hungry Chimera, GFT Press, Asylum Ink, and Visual Verse.

-sonja benskin mesher

born , Bournemouth.

now

lives and works in North Wales as an independent artist

‘i am a multidisciplinary artist, crafting paint, charcoal, words and whatever comes to hand, to explain ideas and issues

words have not come easily. I draw on experience, remember and write. speak of a small life’.

Elected as a member of the Royal Cambrian Academy and the United Artists Society The work has been in solo exhibitions through Wales and England, and in selected and solo worldwide. Much of the work is now in both private, and public collections, and has been featured in several television documentaries, radio programmes and magazines.

Here is my interview of sonja benskin mesher:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2018/10/16/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-sonja-benskin-mesher/

-Samantha Terrell

is an American poet whose work emphasizes emotional integrity and social justice. She is the author of several eBooks including, Learning from Pompeii, Coffee for Neanderthals, Disgracing Lady Justice and others, available on smashwords.com and its affiliates.Chapbook: Ebola (West Chester University Poetry Center, 2014)

Website: poetrybysamantha.weebly.com Twitter: @honestypoetry

Here is my 2020 interview of her:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2020/04/08/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-samantha-terrell/

-Don Beukes

is a South African and British writer. He is the author of ‘The Salamander Chronicles’ (CTU) and ‘Icarus Rising-Volume 1’ (ABP), an ekphrastic collection. He taught English and Geography in both South Africa and the UK. His poetry has been anthologized in numerous collections and translated into Afrikaans, Persian, French and Albanian. He was nominated by Roxana Nastase, editor of Scarlet Leaf Review for the ‘Best of the Net’ in 2017 as well as the Pushcart Poetry Prize (USA) in 2016. He was published in his first SA Anthology ‘In Pursuit of Poetic Perfection’ in 2018 (Libbo Publishers) and his second ‘Cape Sounds’ in 2019 (Gavin Joachims Publishing). He is also an amateur photographer and his debut Photographic publication appeared in Spirit Fire Review in June 2019. His new book, ‘Sic Transit Gloria Mundi’/Thus Passes the Glory of this World’ is due to be published by Concrete Mist Press.

Here is my interview of Don Beukes:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2019/11/02/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-don-beukes/

-Dai Fry

is an old new poet. He worked in social care but now has no day job. A keen photographer and eater of literature and lurid covers. Fascinated by nature, physics, pagans, sea and storm. His poetry seeks to capture image and tell philosophical tales. Published in Black Bough Poetry, Re-Side, The Hellebore Press and the Pangolin Review. He can be seen reading on #InternationalPoetryCircle and regularly appears on #TopTweetTuesday. Twitter. @thnargg Web seekingthedarklight.co.uk

Audio/Visual. @IntPoetryCircle #InternationalPoetryCircle Twitter #TopTweetTuesday

-Paul Brookes

is a shop asst. Lives in a cat house full of teddy bears. His chapbooks include The Fabulous Invention Of Barnsley, (Dearne Community Arts, 1993). The Headpoke and Firewedding (Alien Buddha Press, 2017), A World Where and She Needs That Edge (Nixes Mate Press, 2017, 2018) The Spermbot Blues (OpPRESS, 2017), Port Of Souls (Alien Buddha Press, 2018), Please Take Change (Cyberwit.net, 2018), Stubborn Sod, with Marcel Herms (artist) (Alien Buddha Press, 2019), As Folk Over Yonder ( Afterworld Books, 2019). Forthcoming Khoshhali with Hiva Moazed (artist), Our Ghost’s Holiday (Final book of threesome “A Pagan’s Year”) . He is a contributing writer of Literati Magazine and Editor of Wombwell Rainbow Interviews.

-Mary Frances

is an artist and writer based in the UK. She takes a few photos every day, for inspiration and to use in her work. The images for this project were all taken in the last two years on walks during in the month of May. Her words and images have been published by Penteract Press, Metambesen, Ice Floe Press, Burning House Press, Inside the Outside, Luvina Rivista Literaria, and Lone Women in Flashes of Wilderness. Twitter: @maryfrancesness

-James Knight

is an experimental poet and digital artist. His books include Void Voices (Hesterglock Press) and Self Portrait by Night (Sampson Low). His visual poems have been published in several places, including the Penteract Press anthology Reflections and Temporary Spaces (Pamenar Press). Chimera, a book of visual poems, is due from Penteract Press in July 2020.

Website: thebirdking.com.

Twitter: @badbadpoet

Here is my interview of James Knight:

https://thewombwellrainbow.com/2019/01/06/wombwell-rainbow-interviews-james-knight/

Welcome to a special ekphrastic challenge for May. Artworks from Mary Frances, James Knight and Sue Harpham will be the inspiration for writers, Alex Mazey, Ankh Spice, Samantha Terrell, Dai Fry, Carrie Ann Golden, sonja menskin mesher, Rich Follett, Don Beukes and myself. May 2nd May 2 ..scratching.. quiet now we can hear the birds no problem one lorry on the road essential travel…

0 notes

mosaiccreme · 7 years

Text

I was tagged by @joufancyhuh who just started following me back, yay! :D

Name: Holly

Nickname: MosiacCreme, Twilightrose, CrimsonQueen (at least those are the aliases I use online—I don’t really have any nicknames in real life)

Zodiac: Leo

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw/Gryffindor I think.

Height: 5′4″

Ethnicity: White

Favorite fruit: Cherries

Favorite season: I’m a huge fan of Autumn, I love the crisp, cool air, the rainy days, the changing of the leaves (especially those leaves that turn bright red), the scent of burning leaves and wood fires, plus you know, Halloween.

Favorite book series: Hmmmmm ... I mean, I have to pick just one? Fine. Then probably The Sword of Truth books. Though I’m behind on the series, and The Omen Machine was a bit of a disappointment.

First book series: The Little House on the Prairie books, I think. My Grandma (I think it was her?) got them for me spread out over birthdays and Christmases when I was a kid.

Favorite fictional character: Garrus Vakarian/Thane Krios/Jack (I refuse to pick just one)

Favorite flower: Roses

Favorite scent: Petrichor

Favorite colors: Black, red, purple, blue, and silver.

Favorite animals: Any of the big cats, house cats, large-breed dogs, snakes, lizards, elephants, and bats.

Favorite bands: I’ve had an ongoing obsession with Twenty One Pilots for awhile now. I also like They Might Be Dragons, X Ambassadors, The Dresden Dolls, Melanie Martinez, and countless others.

Average hours of sleep: 5-9 hours

Number of blankets: A comforter on my bed, and then I’ve got just one throw blanket left that my daughter hasn’t stolen from me (and never will because it’s Doctor Who and I’ll fight her for it!)

Dream trip: I’d really like to visit Ireland and go on a safari in Africa.

Last thing I googled: How to spell ‘petrichor’ because it’s being marked as wrong as I write it.

Blog created: Ummmm, I’m really not sure and I can’t figure out how to find out without trying to skip page after page of posts to get to my first post.

Blogs followed: 171

Follower count: 46

What I usually post about: Mass Effect, Doctor Who, Supernatural, and fanfiction.

Do I get asks regularly: Not at all.

@hellisbucky @discursivetacenda @foofyschmoofer @cassiegemini @squigglysquidd @ahealthylionisanonillion @damnbamon @nothingamonth @figsandtea @commandercshepard @blastedking

5 notes · View notes

cosaimai · 7 years

Note

Actually, 1-170, game 😝

why do you subject me to this torture lmao

but imma do it regardless (leaving out all the ones i’ve already answered ofc)

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style?

Goth of course

4: What was your favorite video game growing up?

hmm i didnt play many video games when i was super young so prob bioshock infinite

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day:

my best friend (@lauren-pc), my fictional crushes… (lets not judge me alright, i dont have a life), does the ocean count?

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic]

melancholic

9: Are you ticklish?

yes

10: Are you allergic to anything?

lavender

11: What’s your sexuality?

asexual (homoromantic)

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?

tea

13: Are you a cat or dog person?

hmm prob dog bc even tho cats are adorable their fur tends to bother me since it sheds a lot more easily (which is why i love hairless cats)

18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]

I havent checked in a while since I don’t own a scale, but I think around 91-95lbs

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits?

yes

21: Are you religious?

nope lol

22: Pet peeves?

smacking, chewing w your mouth open, not using a coaster

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]?

nocturnal !!

24: Favorite constellation?

hmmm prob Ursa Major

25: Favorite star?

Deneb or maybe Beta Draconis

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls?

I am scared of all dolls, so, no

27: Any phobias or fears?

spiders & most bugs, also more specifically, dying in a sinking car

28: Do you think global warming is real?

31: Do you get scared easily?

nope

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime?

six i think

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.]

11/10 :)

34: What is a color that calms you?

ocean blue ♥

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live?

in Washington state, preferably close to the coast

36: Where were you born?

texas

38: Introvert or extrovert?

extreme introvert

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs?

ehh, they’re interesting and i do think you can apply them to people, so maybe ig

40: Hugs or kisses?

ughh i guess hugs

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now?

my best friend

42: Who is someone you love deeply?

again, my best friend

43: Any piercings you want?

spider bites (which i’m getting soon !!), daith, conch, maybe an industrial, maybe a nostril piercing

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings?

if you can’t tell, yes lol

45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so?

I don’t, the closest I’ve come is vaping bc my friend’s step brother & his friend wanted me to try his vape

48: A sound you really love?

heavy rain/thunderstorms

49: Can you do a backflip?

um lmao no

50: Can you do the splits?

I think I still have my right splits, not my left or middle tho

51: Favorite actor and/or actress?

i guess I’d have to say Jake Gyllenhaal tho

53: How are you feeling right now?

i am tired

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now?

probably red or black, idk

55: When did you feel happiest?

probably last year, almost anytime during history class

56: Something that calms you down?

ASMR videos

57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!]

none that are prof-dxed

58: What does your URL mean?

oh i’ve told this tale many times on this blog, but to tell it once again: I used to go by the name Mai, and I used to be obsessed with space so cosmic+mai=mai and for some reason i made it cosaimai so basically cosmic mai mai

59: What three words describe you the most?

quiet, jaded, eccentric

60: Do you believe in evolution?

yeah, i guess so

61: What makes you unfollow a blog?

if the content is really my thing or the person running it is transphobic/homophobic/etc.

64: Favorite animal(s):

BATS ♥♥♥

66: Favorite emoticon:

67: Favorite meme:

i can’t choose just one, i mean, pretty much any meme @lauren-pc sends me is pretty high quality

68: What is your MBTI personality type?

INTP

69: What is your star sign?

Aries

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog?

I have two dogs and no

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most?

uhhh probably my new killstar bittersweet babydoll dress

72: Post a selfie or two?

i posted two yesterday sooooo….

73: Do you have platform shoes?

i do !!

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself?

i can cross both my eyes, as well as cross just one at a time

75: Can you do a front flip?

nope, i wish

76: Do you like birds?

ehh, they’re alright

77: Do you like to swim?

not really

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you?

i do not like either, but i guess swimming

79: Something you wish didn’t exist:

Donald Trump

80: Some thing you wish did exist:

Can I say Starfleet?? bc i’m gonna say Starfleet

81: Piercings you have?

none :’(

82: Something you really enjoy doing:

sleeping

83: Favorite person to talk to:

@lauren-pc

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr?

that it was extremely boring, and here i am almost 5 years later

85: How many followers do you have?

364

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

hell no

87: Do your socks always match?

yes, i actually specifically wear all black socks for this reason

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?

89: What are your birthstones?

diamond is the only one i know

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be?

a bat :)

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be?

hmmm…. this is difficult but probably like Cranesbill Geranium or smth

92: A store you hate?

Ross

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

none, coffee makes me sick :/

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

read minds

95: Do you like to wear camo?

96: Winter or summer?

winter i guess

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

I have no clue, but probably less than 30 secs

98: Least favorite person?

well out of the people i know personally, probably my friends boyfriend

99: Someone you look up to:

oh gosh, i have no clue

100: A store you love?

if online stores count, definitely Killstar

101: Favorite type of shoes

tbh flipflops bc I’m lazy

102: Where do you live?

Texas

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why?

no, i wish i had the will to be a vegetarian

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

aura quartz

105: Do you drink milk?

Yes, milk is great tho my mild lactose intolerance disagrees with this fact

106: Do you like bugs?

107: Do you like spiders?

especially no

108: Something you get paranoid about?

usually bugs crawling on me while i sleep, or someone breaking into my house while i sleep

109: Can you draw:

i can, debatable whether it’s good or not tho

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked?

no one tends to ask me very nosy questions

111: A question you hate being asked?

i’m open to pretty much any questions, but i guess i hate boring ones, none in specific come to mind

112: Ever been bitten by a spider?

I might have been, I didn’t know whether it was a spider bite for sure or not

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

yes

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

cloudy

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now:

no one actually, I’m in a very touch averse mood

116: Favorite cloud type:

cirroctratus

117: What color do you wish the sky was?

dusty pink or a darker shade of blue

118: Do you have freckles?

nah

119: Favorite thing about a person:

i don’t quite get what exactly this is asking but i guess appearance-wise, hands

120: Fruits or vegetables?

fruits

121: Something you want to do right now:

go to a lake or beach

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier?

ocean

123: Sweet or sour foods?

sweet

124: Bright or dim lights?

dim

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?

not really, unless you count aliens

126: Something you hate about Tumblr:

all the drama

127: Something you love about Tumblr:

it’s easy to find content i enjoy

128: What do you think about the least?

i guess politics ?? i have no clue

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

“NOW AS DEAD OUTSIDE AS SHE WAS INSIDE”

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now?

No one comes to mind, except perhaps Donald Trump

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

my weirdness, it’s interesting but usually deters people

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

no, i hate my teeth

133: Computer or TV?

TV I suppose

134: Do you like roller coasters?

nope

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness?

not usually

136: Are your ears lobed or attached?

attached

137: Do you believe in karma?

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are?

4/10

139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

Ry, Cosai-chan, Cosai, Mai, Rave (idk how many of those count but there ya go)

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends?

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

nope

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

uhhh…. i’ve been called a bad influence so i guess i am

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

receiving

144: What makes you angry

people who don’t listen/don’t think i know what i’m talking about

145: How many languages do you speak fluently?

just english, though i could probably manage a conversation with my poor knowledge of french

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

girls & nb people

147: Are you androgynous?

i wish

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself:

eyes

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

resilience

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

The 80s for sure

152: Do you like BuzzFeed?

kinda

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?

sometimes

156: What embarrasses you?

almost everything i do when I’m around people bc for some reason i can’t help but think i mess up everything i do

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

being around people

159: How many people are you following?

709

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)?

11, 604 on this one; 288 on my gore blog; 848 on my bpd blog

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)?

29; 1; 0

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?

7, 244

163: Last time you cried and why:

i don’t remember

164: Do you have long or short hair?

it’s kinda in between, i guess you could say long

165: Longest your hair has ever been:

a few inches above my waist

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon?

i dislike it because it’s boring and kinda pointless for the most part, but to each their own

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

occasionally

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

not really

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds?

nope

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

yes

#asks

4 notes · View notes

breakingnewsalert1 · 5 years

Text

Finding Romance in a Single Shot .410 and Heavyweight TSS (VIDEO)

youtube

Savage is now in the business of bringing new life to previously forgotten platforms. First, it was the recent revamp of the Model 220 which resurrected the bolt action shotgun, and now, one of the most sought-after items is also one of the smallest and more inexpensive in the company’s lineup, the Stevens-by-Savage Model 301 single shot .410 bore.

There’s nothing generally romantic or terribly interesting about a single shot shotgun. They’re quite basic. They’re inexpensive. They are not usually overly attractive. So how can a company bring that back and have it achieve stunning success? All those things—save price—change with the introduction of the Model 301, a purpose-driven turkey hunting shotgun dressed for success and built to excel with the partner company Federal Premium’s ammunition.

Meet the 301

Heavyweight TSS turkey loads, with dense tungsten alloy #9 shot, have transformed the previously inept .410 into a serious gobbler gun. Partner that capable ammunition with the most tightly-choked specialty gun hell-bent on putting out deadly patterns with minimal recoil, all in one of the most inexpensive platforms on the market and we have the Model 301. There’s not much to say about the gun design-wise. It’s a single shot, break action which is a simple design with few moving parts that has a track record of reliability. For looks and field stealth, Savage spruces up the Model 301 with molded details in the durable synthetic stocks, all finished in either Mossy Oak Bottomland or Obsession camouflage.

The Stevens-by-Savage 301 Turkey single shot wears a 26” carbon steel barrel that is topped with an extended extra-full turkey choke, all optimized for the Federal Premium TSS 410 specialty turkey loads. (Photo: Kristin Alberts/Guns.com)

The three-inch chambered .410 wears a 26-inch carbon steel barrel that is topped with an extended, extra-full turkey choke, all optimized for the TSS payloads. A removable one-piece rail makes it easy to mount an optic, a current booming trend amongst turkey hunters. Metalwork is finished in matte blue for an unassuming look in the field. MSRP is a surprisingly low $199, with real-world prices already coming in around the $150 mark.

Field Thoughts

Length of pull on the 301 is a reasonable 13.75-inches which fits me very well but may be slightly long for youth or small-frame shooters. The rubber butt pad is a clean addition, though really, recoil is non-existent. Though the gun ships with only the one extra-full turkey choke, the company makes use of the Win Choke thread pattern, so additional tubes will be available. Swivel studs come standard and are a welcome addition for turkey hunters often carrying decoys and other gear. A manual hammer-block safety, while not entirely expected, is a nice addition.

One of our favorite features on the gun are the sighting options. The 301 has a brass front bead as well as a removable optics rail. So, right off the bat, it is suitable for either iron-sighters or red-dot, scoped shooters. Taking that one step further, the bead sight has been designed to be compatible with Tru-Glo fiber optic systems, meaning the front can be easily transformed without a gunsmith.

Not only is the Model 301 a light-recoiling shotgun with the .410 bore, but it is also a lightweight gun, weighing barely over five pounds. What a treat in the turkey woods! (Photo: Kristin Alberts/Guns.com)

The most immediately noticeable thing about the gun is the weight, or lack thereof. Tipping the scales just a few ounces over five pounds, the 301 is incredibly light while also remaining well-balanced. This may just be the most pleasurable gun to carry afield that yet has next to no recoil. At 41.5-inches overall, it’s also a maneuverable gun that conjures feelings of youth, while at once packing the potency of a bonafide turkey killer. Either of the two Mossy Oak camo patterns are ideal for turkey hunters, with Bottomland perfect for thick timber or darker field terrain, while Obsession disappears in the greenery.

On the Patterning Board

Naturally, the bulk of our patterning was done with Federal Premium TSS loads. At 25-yards, that #9 shot on the turkey target appears to have nearly decapitated the bird, which represents a stunning increase in the lethality of the baby bore. In fact, the shot on target at 25 yards with the .410 would easily rival the pellets in the kill zone put out by a 12-gauge a dozen years ago using larger lead shot. From 25, we walked that back to 30, 35, and even 40 yards with slowly expanding, but still incredibly tight groups in the vital zone. While I will never advocate for taking long shots on turkeys when I find the greatest joy in getting them in close, a .410 has never shot like this. Clearly, the extra-full choke works wonders with TSS.

We sent nearly 50 rounds through the 301, and the gun performs admirably, as we expected. Though patterns were not nearly as impressive with either Federal Game Loads or Winchester Super-X, both functioned just fine. Operations on the 301 are smooth, from the hammer and safety to the trigger. The ejector, meanwhile, sends empties flying with authority.

The Case for Single Shot World Domination

Normally, I’d say I have little interest in talking to you about a single shot shotgun. But we’re both still here, and there’s a reason for that. First, the Model 301 is the most reasonable entry point into the specialized sub-gauge turkey hunting market. With Federal Premium’s TSS .410 turkey loads putting devastating patterns on target with #9 shot from the small bore, the 301 has been optimized from the choke down to excel with that load.

Our 25-yard pattern with Federal Premium Heavyweight TSS #9 shot fired through the Model 301’s extra full choke is absolutely devastating. That gobbler would not have taken a step. (Photo: Kristin Alberts/Guns.com)

Second, not only does that combination make for an interesting and more challenging hunt for experienced hunters, but also, with the increased potency from the rounds, the .410 now becomes a viable youth and beginners gobbler-getter. The reduced recoil of the smaller bore, which heretofore had a severely limited range, has been rejuvenated with TSS and made accessible with the Model 301. The other smooth benefit to the platform is the ambidextrous nature of the single shot. Even for those not completely sold on the .410 bore, but still appreciating the affordable platform, the company offers the 301 Turkey in 20-gauge as well.

While Naysayers Nay, the 301 Bags Birds

There will always be hunters who proclaim the .410 as “not enough gun” to cleanly harvest turkeys, but those willing to buy the correct ammunition and put in some time at the patterning board quickly find that not only can a .410 do more now than ever before but is also both an incredibly pleasurable gun to take afield and a potent one as well.

There’s no one single gun or chambering that is “the” turkey gun. We hunters can all agree, though, that respecting the quarry means making a clean kill. And I have no doubt that with TSS loaded in the Model 301 Turkey, I can cleanly harvest a trophy gobbler inside of 40 yards with a single shot. Whether you’re new to the baby bore gobbler craze, have a new shooter in need of a gun, or just want a different challenge in the turkey woods, the Model 301 deserves a long look. There’s a reason that demand still outweighs supply, but trust me, this little baby is worth the wait.

The post Finding Romance in a Single Shot .410 and Heavyweight TSS (VIDEO) appeared first on Guns.com.

from Guns.com http://bit.ly/2YoI6te from Blogger http://bit.ly/2Yr4Zwf

#guns

0 notes

blouisparadise · 5 years

Photo

It’s finally time for us to add a second part to our sub bottom Louis rec list! If you’re interested in checking out part one, you can find it here. Happy reading!

1) Give and Take | Explicit | 1837 words

Sometimes Louis just needs.

2) There's No Place I'd Rather Be | Explicit | 2281 words

Harry comes home an hour early and he's in rut.

3) Blue Eyes, Black Jeans, Lighters, Candy | Explicit | 3629 words

Harry is in Madrid and Louis had a hard week.

4) You Drive Me Wild (You Know You Do) | Explicit | 6632 words

Louis flirts with the Australian interviewers and Harry gets possessive.

5) Call Me Shallow But I’m Only Getting Deeper | Explicit | 7367 words

The one where Louis is a brat so Harry spanks him with a riding crop.

6) Shackles (I Just Want to Praise You) | Explicit | 7562 words

Louis is an extra for a low-budget gladiator movie. His day takes a turn when his shackles turn out to be more than just a film prop, and the production assistant turns out to be helpful in more ways than one.

7) Focal Point | Mature | 8935 words

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking.

Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand.

Don’t forget about me. xx

P.S. Thanks for the money

8) Let The Beating Waves Come Drag Me Down | Explicit | 9447 words

“Just try it, the worst thing that could ever happen it’s that you won’t like it” Niall had told him. And there he was, on the way to one of these pubs created for perverts, willing to break up the routine to try something new, something that terrified as much as excited him.

One night to get swept up in passion, one night to let the devil get in.

"Tonight, I’m going to make you scream of ecstasy Louis,” he said with a raspy voice full of control, making him tremble with anticipation.

9) Night Out | Mature | 9741 words | Sequel

Symphony hall was the first place Louis had felt at home in this city, and he always had the box to himself. Until tonight.

10) I’m What You Need, What You Need | Explicit | 9829 words

Overworked, under-rested, and a little sex happy, Louis accidentally sends his boss a rather explicit photo of himself. Being a personal assistant was never supposed to be this high risk.

11) Symptoms Of The Culture | Explicit | 14672 words

Harry's fraternity has become obsessed with the newest online game, and they'd like to think they're getting pretty good at it. Only, they keep getting killed by The Rogue, an online player who has no connection to the Frat, but seems to have a vendetta against them.

12) The Seed Inside You, Baby, Do You Feel It Growing | Explicit | 14796 words

Louis really wants Harry to get him pregnant.

13) Damn Your Love, Damn Your Lies | Explicit | 14860 words

“Of course you’d use your free time to go to the gym.”

“Your idea of the best way to spend your free time is annoying your neighbors,” he laughs, dimples carved into his cheeks like marble.

No, Louis likes to annoy Harry. Everyone else on this floor is just an unfortunate casualty.

“No one has complained except for you,” Louis informs him smartly. Which is actually a good thing. If someone other than Harry had complained to him long ago, he would have unfortunately had to stop.

14) Dreams Can’t Take The Place Of Loving You | Explicit | 15496 words

in which Liam is the go-to ring guy, Niall's relentless, Zayn is family, and Harry and Louis are disgusting.

15) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

16) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24416 words

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

17) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

18) Can’t Fool Me | Explicit | 30162 words

AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.

19) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

20) Cupid’s Chokehold | Explicit | 35526 words

Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn't work out as planned.

21) And Touch Me Like You | Explicit | 35971 words

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

22) Falling Into Place | Explicit | 40757 words

Louis and Harry spend nine years apart but inevitably find their way back to each other.

23) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

24) It’s A Long Way Down | Explicit | 52658 words

It’s June 2013, and the legalization of gay marriage is the most discussed political issue in the country. As a member of parliament Louis Tomlinson has decided to do everything under his power to keep marriage between a man and a woman. Little does he know a boy with green eyes and pink lips from his past is on a mission to change his mind.

25) Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) | Mature | 54609 words

Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.

Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.

He also starts to fall in love with Harry.

Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

26) Nobody Does It Like You | Not Rated | 58520 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis isn't looking for a home, but he finds one in Harry.

27) This Feeling | Explicit | 58875 words

A Larry Duet AU.

28) Into The Midnight Sun | Explicit | 63253 words

It's 1983, Harry embarks on his first world tour and Louis is a budding actor in LA. Life spent apart isn't easily adjustable, but somehow they make it work.

29) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

30) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

31) Cold Little Heart | Teen & Up | 194780 words

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child.

A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham. Louis really could use the help.

32) Only You Can Be My Alpha | Mature | 196073 words

The one where Louis is banished from his tribe, and lands himself in Harry's instead. The alluring Pack Alpha makes Louis question his nature and he doesn't know how he feels about that. But you can't fight destiny.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #dom/sub #sub louis #dom harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs

255 notes · View notes

timmyrx2000 · 7 years

Text

Dipper Steps Up: Chapter 2

Chapter Index: (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13)

Chapter 2

Thursday morning Mabel and Dipper stepped off the bus with six minutes to go until the homeroom bell—but instead of reporting to the classroom, Mabel went barreling through the crowded halls, out the back door, and to the gym. Dipper had no idea of what she was up to.

Until she burst into homeroom exactly five seconds before the bell rang, thrust her arms up in the air in a Rocky-at-the-top-of-the-steps pose, and shouted, "Announcement! My brother Dipper made the baseball team! And my boyfriend Chuck Taylor is gonna be team captain!"

Immediately the students as one person greeted her news flash with a thunderous round of complete apathy. These are high-school freshmen we're talking about here.

The bell rang, and Mabel slipped into her desk beside Dipper. "You didn't have to do that!" he whispered in a fierce undertone.

"Yeah, I did! Wait'll lunch! Then everybody will know!"

The teacher took attendance, passed out the lunch menus—you were supposed to pick out which of two entrées you wanted, plus beverage and sides, but it was sort of Chinese-menu style, pick one from Column A, two from Column B, and one from Column C and so on, and Mabel complained that was unfair. She had been checking everything, though so far, she had been served the first entrée, the first two sides, and the first beverage she'd checked.

Dipper said that was what she deserved, but Mabel maintained she was educating her palate, which needed it, since she still had an obsession with trying to eat everything from chalk to wood shavings, just on an experimental basis.

After roll call, they watched the ten-minute video feed from the office, run by students (Mabel dearly wanted to audition and land an anchor spot, but you couldn't until you'd been in school for one full term and carried an A average). The sports announcer said only, "The baseball roster for JV has been posted in the gym," and Mabel jumped up yelling, "That's my brother he's talking about!"

Maybe it was fortunate that their home-room teacher, Miss Othmayer, was only a few years from retirement and also, as she had said while introducing herself on the first day, the daughter of a couple who met at Woodstock, wherever that was. Whatever, she seemed very easy-going and accepting.

That afternoon Dipper learned that he would have practice twice a week during the fall, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. High-school baseball season began in February, so after Christmas they'd step up their practice days and would play every other Friday or Saturday—and sometimes two weeks in a row. To his surprise, Dipper's position, at least to begin with, would be second baseman. Well, second-string second baseman. Maybe he'd get to play a few innings. The guys socialized a little, and Dipper got to know some of them.

The JV was light on sophomores that year—just four out of sixteen. One was Xavier Eager, first-string catcher, a guy whose grandparents had come from the Phillippines and who was a good-humored, joke-cracking boy even shorter than Dipper. Everybody called him "X-Man." "Hi-Ho" was the first-string center fielder. Dipper had to ask Chuck Taylor about his real name, because the big, gangly redhead—a little like Wendy Corduroy's big brother, but a heck of a lot slimmer—was somebody everyone already knew, and he'd earned his nickname by his greeting to everybody else: "Hi-ho, Dipperino!" He was really Gordon Hathaway. Chuck himself, first-string pitcher, was the third sophomore, and the last was Wyatt Wilson, called "Dub" because, Dipper learned, he said everything double and was pessimistic: "We got a lousy team this year, guys. We got a lousy team."

All the other twelve, including Dipper, were freshmen. After some uncomfortable hesitation, Dipper finally confessed that his first name was Mason. X-Man thought about that and said, "So we'll call you Bricklayer!"

Chuck came to the rescue: "Nah, he's got a good nickname already. He's Dipper."

And that was that.

They did batting and fielding practice that day. Dipper didn't get a chance to shine as second-baseman, but he did catch two infield fly balls, and he assisted in the practice's one and only double-play, fielding a grounder to his left, stepping on second, and firing the ball to Mike Monahan at first for the play. That earned him some congratulations.

His mom picked him up after practice, and Mabel—who'd caught the bus—waited to jump him at home: "How'd you do? How was Chuck? Did he say anything about me? Did he miss me? I'm gonna watch next Tuesday! What should I wear? Does he have a favorite color?"

"Whoa!" Dipper said. "Look, don't get too far ahead of yourself! You're not his girlfriend!"

"Yes, I am!" she said. "He just doesn't know it yet. He had a girlfriend last year, but back in the summer her dad got a job as a computer systems expert with Disney World, and she and her family moved three thousand miles away to Orlando, Florida! He's ripe for the picking, Brobro! What's that?"

Dipper held up the sheet of paper. "List of equipment I need to get. I'm just planning on the minimum. This will be expensive."

She yanked the paper from his hand. "Leave it to Mabel!"

And he suspected that he would have to.

Mr. Pines, much to Dipper's surprise, reacted with Mabel-level enthusiasm to the news that Dipper was the newest member of the high-school team. Mabel confiscated his list of supplies.

Then on Friday night she went online and began to read up on what the really stylish baseball player would be wearing that season and she added to the list . . . and added to the list . . . and added to the list. By the time she finished, she had more than doubled the length of the initial handout.

That was why, the following Saturday morning—without bothering to tell Dipper—Dad and Mabel snuck away to Bayside Mall, where the big MegaSports store was. "It'll be fun surprising him!" Mabel told her father. "We'll make him look sharp, and that'll really impress Chu—I mean Coach Waylund! This'll guarantee that he gets off the bench more!"

"I'm not so sure about that," Dad told her, smiling. "But like chicken soup for a broken leg, it couldn't hurt!"

So they parked in the sprawling lot and made their way into the mall and to the huge two-level sports store. "Oh, boy!" Mabel said as they stood in the wide first-floor entrance, her eyes sparking at the sight of thousands of square feet of brightly colored merchandise from anoraks to Z-straps and everything in between. "Get out your credit card, Dad! We're going shopping!"

The first thing on the list was "Athletic cup." Mabel got a little bit indignant when she found the display. "How's anybody supposed to drink out of that thing?" she said. "Let's get a bigger one! With a handle! And that won't even stand straight on a table! It'd spill!"

"Um, it's not really for drinking," her dad told her. "And it's sort of personal, so if you want to go look for some of the other stuff on the list, I'll pick up this and the underwear."

But Mabel tagged along, and when she saw how the cup would fit into a pocket in the underwear, she said, "Oh! My mistake!" But then she wanted to know, "How come the shorts are so long? They should be called longs!"

"Princess, these are called sliding shorts. Dipper may need to slide into base," Dad explained. "These give a little protection against getting your legs scraped up. I'll get him a couple of pairs, and a cup for each one."

The school would furnish the basic uniform, but getting a higher-quality jersey and pants was optional, as long as the design was the standard Piedmont one (which the store stocked), and Mabel took advantage of that, picking out two blue-pinstriped light-gray splitter jerseys with Dipper's name and number on the back in dark blue:

PINES

Those had to be embroidered and wouldn't be ready for a week, but Mabel forged ahead. She added a couple of pairs of boot-cut game pants and a Navy-blue baseball cap with the team logo and name printed on it in gold. And batting gloves. And a batting helmet. And long-sleeved undershirts. And stirrup socks (the clerk said, "These are what give a player the look of a real pro.") And a pricey stick of Midnight Big League Eyeblack ("Makeup for hunks!" she exclaimed). And enough to cause Dad to start to experience sticker shock.

Mabel wanted to buy an extremely expensive pair of cleated baseball shoes, but Dad finally drew the line. "Dipper will have to come in for those," he said firmly. "The fit's important. He has to try them on."

"I can do that for him!" Mabel objected. "We have twin feet!"

"Not close enough," Dad insisted. "Shoes are pretty personal. And anyway, those are red, black, and gray, and the list says black and white."

It was a bit of a battle, but in the end Mabel surrendered and had to content herself with the couple of hundred dollars' worth of equipment they had rounded up so far. Ah, but then the biggest purchase of all—

"This is a beautiful glove!" Mabel yelled. "Let's buy it for Dipper!"

"Um, no," Dad said. "For three good reasons. First, it costs over four hundred dollars. Second, this one is for an adult. Third, it's a catcher's mitt."

"But he deserves the best!"

"He needs a glove that will fit, and one that suits his position," Dad said firmly. "Here you can help. Your hands are really about the same size as his. Let's look at infielder gloves. Now, for second base, he'll need a pretty shallow glove, I-web, single-post."

Mabel tilted her head. "I have no idea what any of that means."

"It means one like one of these," Dad said, showing her a display of infielder gloves. "Let's try this one."

Mabel happily tried on gloves until they settled on an eleven-inch one as being about the right size for Dipper. It cost only a tenth of what Mabel's first suggestion did, so Dad looked relieved when the clerk finally rang up the purchase—though he did have to swallow hard before signing the credit-card receipt.

Dipper opened all the packages with widening eyes and an expression that fluttered between surprise and shock. "Dad!" he said. "I don't mean to go into baseball as a career!"

"Get dressed get dressed get dressed!" Mabel yelled.

He had to give in. He felt silly in his new baseball uniform (though he wore the practice jersey the coach had handed out, since the real one wouldn't be ready for a while). With the stiff glove on his left hand—"You'll have to break it in," his dad explained—he stood in the backyard and let Mabel talk him into posing as though he were about to catch a fly ball. She took a couple of photos, wasn't satisfied, and ran into the house.

"OK," she said, "stand still! Warpaint!"

Well—eyeblack ideally should be applied in short stripes beneath the eyes. It really isn't necessary to add tiger stripes and whiskers, but Mabel did.

And, of course, that was the photo that she decided to post on Peoplebook for all the world to see.

Dipper began to dread going to school next Monday morning. . . .

To Be Continued

Note from the Authors: This was just an idea I had but the one who really worked his magic and wrote almost all of this is none other than BillEase. He’s an amazing author who usually hangs out at fanfiction.net. Don’t pass up on a chance to check out his stuff. This guy is AMAZING. He wrote the story, I just gave the plot.

#gravity falls #baseball #gf #dipper pines #mabel pines #au #mabel and dipper #fanfic #pines twins #Dipper Steps Up #Chapter 2

9 notes · View notes