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callmeelle22 · 3 years

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Blue Dream, V

Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen

Rating: E

Chapter Word Count:7, 733

Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.

Chapter I: Primetime

Chapter II: It's Cool

Chapter III: Anything

Chapter IV: Comfortable

Chapter V: The Way; He doesn’t fumble the chance to touch her, and so he presses a hand to the small of her back and follows her as she sways, humming the song that’s playing, is it the way you love me, baby? is it the way you love me, baby?, ignoring the obvious implication as they move. She puts her face in to the crook of his neck, inhales the clean scent of him. His sweater is soft and he’s hard against her, humming along too. They shouldn’t be like this, here, but Iris is starting to get caught up in it, their story. (Read below or on the AO3 link on the chapter title.)

Chapter VI: Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

Chapter VII: I'm in Love with You

Chapter VIII: Blue Dream

The Way

Woke up this morning

With a smile on my face

Barry: I had to look for crime clues at the bottom of a snake pit today. Hope your day was better than mine.

Iris: Well, I had to go off on a freshman student for coming at me about her shitty article, so not likely.

Barry: Yeah? Did it get physical?

Iris: Don’t be a cliche.

Barry: :)

Barry: Watched an episode of this Bridgerton show you like. I don’t get the hype.

Iris: Two words: Simon Bassett

Barry: Hmm.

Barry: I’m certain I look better.

Iris: Don’t lie to yourself like that.

Barry: Damn. Burn.

Iris: How will you ever recover?

Barry: I’m sure if I get you spread out over my face, I could.

Barry: And get you to forget about Simon Bassett too.

Iris:

Barry: Iris?

Iris: Sorry; I spilled my coffee.

Iris: I’ve thought of my next question.

Barry: Yeah?

Iris: What would be an ideal date for you?

Barry: Any one that you’re on with me.

Iris: That’s a cop out answer, Bear.

Barry: Bear?

Iris: I’m trying it out.

Barry: I can get behind that. Bears are polite dicks, right?

Iris: I hate you.

Barry: I’ve got a couple of scratches on my neck that prove you don’t.

Iris:

Barry: Baby?

Iris: Be serious. Ideal date.

Barry: I am.

Barry: You make me smile, Iris. You’re pretty and kind, even if you get a little grumpy sometimes. I’ve had a great time with you, when we’re walking around or having dinner or eating sandwiches by the lake. When we’re getting high or having sex.

Barry: And I want to keep getting to know you. So I am being serious. My ideal date is any one that you’re on with me.

Iris: How am I supposed to even respond to that.

Iris: Be ready on Tuesday at 6. Can you swing it?

Barry: I can.

Iris: Dress a little dressier than casual.

Barry: Did you get them?

Iris: Yes, Barry, they’re beautiful. What are they?

Barry: They’re called camellias.

Iris: I was very surprised to see them on my porch when I got home. And I love the vase too.

Iris: Really. Thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me flowers before.

Barry: Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I can’t wait to see you on Tuesday, baby.

Iris: Me either, Bear.

Iris: I think I still smell you on my couch, and I cleaned it. That’s ridiculous, right?

Barry: Only if me being able to still smell you on my fingers is.

Iris: What are you doing to me, Barry?

Barry: Nothing you aren’t already doing to me.

Barry: I was grinning down at my phone earlier and Chester and Cisco started giving me shit about you.

Barry: They told me I’m whipped.

Iris: Better than your boss announcing in her office that she’s glad you’re apparently getting good sex.

Barry: You are.

Iris: 🙄

Iris: Not lately.

Barry: Soon, baby.

Barry: And Iris?

Iris: Yeah?

Barry: I am.

Barry: Whipped.

“Who’s on the phone?”

It’s another Sunday night, a week after she’s last seen Barry. Mid-term prep and a triple homicide case have kept them both busy. They’ve exchanged a few text messages throughout the week and have tried to meet up for coffee once, though their schedules didn’t align.

She’s done her usual Sunday cleaning routine since she didn’t get a chance the week before and she’s even taken the time to condition and twist out her hair instead of flat ironing it as she normally would. Now, she sits back in one corner of her sofa, Law & Order: SVU playing in the background on the television and Linda and Wally sitting on the other side of the couch and in the armchair, respectively. Her laptop is in her lap and she’s cleaning up her “Loving” post before she officially posts it. Linda is writing, likely working on her new manuscript, and Wally is doing homework, books laid out on the arm of the chair and on the floor too.

She doesn’t answer right away because she’s unsure if she’s ready to tell yet. They’ve been texting all week and Iris feels even more like a teenager with a crush. She’s been going to bed with images of him in her head, of his kiss and his touch and the fact that he really did make her come all over his face on a blanket outside by the lake. And she can’t ignore the fact that she likes him. He’s funny and the likable kind of asshole and he says these sweet things that catch her off guard every. single. time. The flowers he’d dropped off when she was still at work on Friday are sitting on the counter, a mix of red and white flowers with open petals, short stems, and big green leaves.

“Iris?”

“Hmm?” She looks up from the last messages, I am. Whipped., and it’s to stare at her brother and best friend, who are watching her back. “What?”

“Who’re you texting?”

“I’m not texting anyone.”

“For a storyteller,” Linda says, “you are a horrible liar.”

“Take the phone, Linda,” Wally says, and Iris looks over at him, appalled. Wally is a handsome kid, 20 going on 37, with skin the same dusky shade as Iris’s and dark brown eyes, his hair tapered on the sides and higher, curlier on the top.

“What do you mean take my phone?”

Linda carefully sets her laptop to the side, and before Iris can ask another question, Linda jumps over to the side of the couch, reaching for Iris’s phone.

“Get away from me, you idiot,” Iris screams, and with Wally’s encouragement, Linda climbs onto Iris’s lap and snatches the phone from her hand. Wally hops up from his own seat to hold Iris down so that Iris can’t get up. She tries to struggle against him, but it’s no use. For a limber thing, Wally is strong.

“Who is it?”

As Iris makes note of the fact that she should definitely change her phone passcode, she settles under her brother’s hold as Linda looks through her phone.

“We’re gonna have to talk about privacy,” she grumbles.

Luckily, the text messages don’t go back as far as she’s known Barry, but unfortunately, there’s no hiding their budding relationship.

“Who is Barry?” Linda says, eyebrows raised high as she slides through. “And where can I get one?”

“You already have one,” Iris replies dryly.

“I guess,” Linda says, “But Dan’s not telling me he wants me to spread out on his face in a text message.”

“Iris!” Wally shouts.

“Wally is too young to hear all of this,” Iris tries.

“Oh please,” Linda says. “Let’s not forget that I caught him and that Johnathan guy hooking up in a closet at your dad’s house. Your little brother was on his knees.” That she adds with a saucy little grin.

“Can we actually not talk about me or the apparent fact that my sister’s getting tongued down by someone named Barry?”

“I’m okay with that.”

Linda bounces back to her side of the sofa, still holding on to Iris’s phone. “Well, I’m not. I mean, Wally I am 100% fine with never seeing you deepthroat a dick again. But I do want to know why my best friend is apparently out here pussy whipping white men named Barry and I don’t know about it.”

“How do you know he’s white?”

She gets the eye from both Linda and Wally.

“Okay, fine. He’s white. But he’s really nice.”

“Alright.” Linda catches her gaze and holds it, her brown eyes curious and, if Iris isn’t mistaken, a little sad. She glances over at the still beautiful bouquet of camellia flowers. “So he’s white and nice and he’s apparently buying you flowers too. Tell me more.”

Maybe this is what she needs, some girl-talk. There’s no real reason that she hasn’t told Linda about Barry, other than they haven’t really had real time to talk since their brunch a couple of weeks back. Well, and maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it’s the reality that she doesn’t know what’s happening with her and Barry, not really, and (in her head) there’s a sort of taboo about speaking on it, about making it real when it isn’t.

“He’s…” she starts, and then she pauses. “I need wine for this.”

“Me too!” Wally says as she disappears into the kitchen. She hears Linda tell Wally that he’s still not 21, even though his birthday is only a couple of weeks away, and so he can’t drink, but Iris pours up three glasses of the red wine on her counter anyway. There’s no telling what the conversation will bring.

She carefully takes the glasses back to the living room. The other two have fully abandoned their work and are sitting on the sofa waiting for her. They both make grabby hands for the wine and she passes the glasses over before plopping down in the middle of them.

“Okay, first things first,” Wally starts. “How’d you meet him?”

“I went out dancing,” she answers. “I guess a few weeks ago at this point. And…”

“A few weeks?” Linda interrupts.

Iris sips from her glass to avoid making eye contact after the bit of ire in Linda’s tone.

“Yeah,” she continues after a pause. “I went out and we came back here. He was gone the next morning and I thought that was it. But then he showed up a week later and we hung out again. I saw him at the Fall Fest after our brunch, Linda, and we had dinner. Last Sunday, he took me on a picnic.”

“Okay,” Linda says, “but tell me about him.”

“I don’t know; he’s…” she searches for what to say, to put words to the ways she’s been seeing him in her head, to the way she’s been feeling him in her heart. “Maybe nice is too easy a word because he’s not really nice. He’s polite; like he pays for meals and he walks me to my car and he says please. But he’s also got a little oomph to him, ya know. Like he doesn’t look like it, but he’s a little bit, a little commanding, and…”

“Wait, what do you mean commanding? Like is he trying to tell you what to do? Because…”

“No, Wally. I mean like...”

“In the bedroom?” Linda guesses and Iris nods. “Nice.”

“Good for you,” Wally says.

She waits until they’re done laughing at her irritated expression.

“Sorry,” Linda says. “He’s a freak. What else?”

“I don’t know. He’s kinda funny. Like, he doesn’t tell jokes but he’ll say something to try to push my buttons and it makes me laugh. Or he’ll laugh at himself and that makes me laugh too. And even though you can tell he’s pretty confident in himself, there are still these instances where he’s a little awkward and he blushes and it’s...sweet.” And he makes me feel a little less lonely, she doesn’t add, and like he could be someone that I could come to count on.

Her brother and best friend are both quiet after this and when Iris looks from one to the other, she frowns.

“What?”

“Iris, you like him.” This from Linda.

“It’s only been a couple of dates,” she deflects.

“Yeah,” Wally agrees, “and he’s already calling you baby.”

Linda hums. “That might have a little to do with the pussy whipping.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

“In any case,” Linda says, before Iris can respond. “If he’s all of this, why are you keeping it a secret?”

“Because I don’t know what we’re doing. I thought it was just sex. I mean he came back over after the first time for sex. But now, it’s, it’s…”

“More?” Linda tries.

“Right.”

“And you’re afraid that it’s gonna end before it even starts.”

Iris doesn’t know how Linda does it. She’s always been able to see right through Iris, in a way that would be scary if she didn’t appreciate it so much. Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? Iris is scared because it’s only been weeks and she likes this guy so much already. Even after their first night, when Iris was sure she’d never see him again, she’d felt a stirring of something in her gut, something strong and big and, and important. And it doesn’t make any sense, because all they’ve really done is have sex, albeit phenomenal sex, and talk about their hobbies a little. But she’s feeling feelings she’s never felt before and it’s all a bit...much. Feelings like this don’t last. They falter or they change, turning into things undefinable, charged, angry.

“It’s too soon, though, right?” She tries. “Like, we still don’t even really know each other and…”

“Don’t do that, Iris,” Wally interrupts, his voice a warning.

“Do what?”

“Think about ending it,” Linda says. “Ride it out. I know you have this need to try to figure out how things will end. And I can understand that. But, Iris, this man likes you. He’s telling you his feelings. And you obviously like him. So let that be okay for now. Trust that.”

Iris is not expecting the cute one-story modern farmhouse she pulls up to. It’s made of gray brick and white shiplap and there’s a flower garden on either side of the walkway that leads to the porch. A swinging chair hangs on one side of the porch and a couple of rocking chairs sit on the other and if Barry wasn’t already walking out of the house when she stopped her car in front, she might think she was at the wrong place.

The weather has gotten cooler in the evenings and so he’s dressed in a pair of dark plaid slacks that fit to the long length of him and a sift black sweater. She stifles a hysterical giggle at how it matches her own white cashmere sweater tucked into a black pleated skirt that hems just under her knees. She watches him stroll to her car and climb in.

“I was gonna come to the door and get you,” Iris says. “Like on a proper date.”

He shoots her a grin, cheeks pink. “I, uh, I was excited to see you.”

She hears Linda in her head saying, ‘you obviously like him; let that be okay for now,’ and so she smiles at Barry.

“You’re so sweet, it’s irritating.”

He gives her a wider dorky grin and she can’t help but smile back, wider than before.

“And this house is really nice.”

His smile turns softer, sadder. “Yeah. It was my parents’. Just want to keep it nice for them.”

“Well I don’t know if you’ve turned the inside into a dungeon, but you’re certainly keeping it nice outside.”

“Thanks, Iris. I’ve learned that I’ve got quite the green thumb trying to keep it up.” He wiggles his hands at her as she’s putting the car into drive and pulling off.

“Wait, so you tend to garden yourself?”

He nods. “Yeah. Both of my parents were into gardening. Well, my mom really liked flowers but she couldn’t really make anything grow. So she got my dad into it and he could, which annoyed her to no end.”

Iris shoots him a soft grin. “Is that what the tattoo is about? I’ve been wondering.”

“Yeah. I get two new flowers every year, one on my mom’s birthday and the other on the anniversary of her death.”

“That’s really sweet, Barry.”

She turns her attention back to the road. A man who, in addition to what she’s seen so far, is committed to keeping his mother’s memory alive? Yeah, she’s fucked.

Greenwood Art Gallery has only been open for a few months. A nod to the name of the neighborhood down in Tulsa that was once the home of a Black cultural and economic mecca, the art gallery features art by Black artists across the diaspora. Tonight is the opening night of a new artist showing, a young woman named Lauryn Morgan who’s a Central City native. Iris and Wally had gone together to their first showing, a curated collection of art focusing on Black American culture through the centuries. The showing tonight is called “The Way,” and is a series of art, canvas paintings and mixed-media prints, that focus on love in all of their forms.

The gallery is in a beautiful space in a reconstructed warehouse. There are a few exposed brick walls, but the place is largely filled with white walls and great lighting, art taking up every corner of the room. There is a large crowd there, when Iris walks through the front door with Barry at her side. Her black pumps have a silver ankle chain and a tall stiletto heel that puts her to his shoulder, and would make it easier to reach out and grab his hand. She doesn’t. Not yet, at least.

They stop first by a bar set up in one corner of the room. It’s a pretty wooden structure manned by two women in black dresses, both of their hair in locs and falling down their backs. The song for which the artist’s collection is named is playing from a speaker, Jill Scott’s sultry, smiling voice making the words jumped out of bed, took a shower, dressed; cleaned up my place; made me some breakfast, toast; two scrambled eggs, grits; grabbed my keys, grabbed my purse; grabbed my jacket, off to work; beaming all the way down third sound like some sort of ode to life and love. Iris insists on paying for their first glass of wine since it is her date, and they bicker good-naturedly about it as they wait for one of the bartenders to pour over full glasses of the chilled white wine.

“I’m paying for the next one,” Barry tells her, and she just shakes her head, mumbling “we’ll see” as she takes the glass from the brown-skinned woman with a smile.

“I’ve been wanting to come here,” Barry says as he presses a hand to her lower back as they move further into the room. It’s packed; the crowd seems like the normal art crowd around Central City, twenty- and thirty-somethings dressed in everything from tulle skirts to ripped jeans and boots to full on suits. The sea of faces run the line in skin color, from darker than chocolate and paler than vanilla and then all of the flavors in between. It’s one of the things she finds fascinating about Central City, an idea that is pushed every time she writes a new story about the power of people coming together, pushing stereotypes, making targeted efforts to understand.

“My brother and I came when it first opened,” she answers. “But I’ve been reading up on this artist and I’m really excited to see her work.”

Barry nods. “Thanks for wanting to share it with me.”

“Art is just another way that people tell stories,” she gives a little shrug. “And Black stories are extremely important to me.”

He gives her that look that he does, that wondering, curious sort of look, as if he’s always trying to understand what lies beyond the surface to what she isn’t actually saying. Maybe that is what he’s doing. Because then he nods again and smiles before pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I hear you,” he says seriously. “And I want to learn about that, to celebrate that.”

And well, okay then.

“What’s the story behind this one, do you think?”

It’s the first time Barry has really engaged with her. He’s been content to follow her from painting to painting, making small comments about how he likes this one or that one, but otherwise just following, watching. They started at one end of the exhibit, where it had been a little crowded and they moved along the lines of the walls, stopping at the ones placed haphazardly in the middle of the room too.

The art has been phenomenal, some platonic or familial, others romantic or erotic. She’s seen some featuring groups of Black women of various shades at a wine night or reading in a library; Black men playing pickup basketball or talking smack at the barbershop. She’s smiled at the ones that remind her of when she and Wally would sit on the couch watching movies or when her dad would try to comb her hair before he decided to just shell out money to get her hair professionally done.

The romantic canvas paintings have been her favorite: the one of a man and a woman dancing, their faces out of the frame, their bodies aligned and in shadows, the viewer understanding that this is not only a dance; another of two women lying in bed, one woman’s dark breasts bared, the other with a sheet covering the curve of her hip, the love evident in their pleased expressions; yet another of two men, standing in an embrace in the light of a window, towels tucked into their waists, the one with waist-length locs tucked into the neck of one with a high fade. It goes like this, with the mixed media prints of individuals celebrating their femininity, their masculinity, their androgyny.

The one Barry asks about is tucked away in the farther end of the exhibit. They’re alone back here for the most part, with people still largely at the front of the gallery, the occasional guest walking through to take a quick look before leaving. The painting is beautiful, another man and woman, in 20s era clothing, a sultry blue dress pushed up high on her thigh and a pair of suspenders falling off of his shoulders. He’s holding a saxophone and a microphone cord is wrapped around her bangled wrist, but there’s no mistaking that they aren’t playing for a crowd at the moment.

“It looks like the 20s era which, outside of the rampant racism, seems like a time I would have actually like to visit as a Black person. The art, the music, the literature. Everything was so, I don’t know, intimate, I think. People weren’t afraid to lay it all out in their art.” She turns to find him watching her, his expression thoughtful and a touch sensuous, like he’s think of laying it out, laying her out right now. She licks her lips, slowly, and continues, “They’re taking a break from making music; or rather, they’re making another kind. It’s why I love music, especially blues and R & B. Music is a story too, heightened senses and heated bodies and it’s feeling.”

On an impulse, she takes his hand and pulls him close, her other hand resting on his shoulders. They’d finished their wine and placed the glasses in one of the discreet bins placed around the gallery a couple of prints ago and they’re empty-handed. He doesn’t fumble the chance to touch her, and so he presses a hand to the small of her back and follows her as she sways, humming the song that’s playing, is it the way you love me, baby? is it the way you love me, baby?, ignoring the obvious implication as they move. She puts her face in to the crook of his neck, inhales the clean scent of him. His sweater is soft and he’s hard against her, humming along too. They shouldn’t be like this, here, but Iris is starting to get caught up in it, their story. It’s hard to hold on to fear, when he’s like this with her. They’re doing nothing but dancing in a crowded art gallery; they’ve done nothing but stare and laugh and fuck. But it’s been more, hasn’t it? A story she’s been writing since the moment he asked her to dance.

“You can feel it, right?” she asks, a little quietly. The sounds around them are stark, the low murmurs of the other guests, the laughs they emit. She can feel his heavy breathing and hers is no lesser, mixing with the tap of her heels on the wood floors, the thick tapping of her heart she wouldn’t be surprised he could actually hear. But they still seem to be in some sort of bubble, one where she can only focus on his humming, a baritone that hints at a nice singing voice, and the feel of him holding her.

“Yes,” he responds, just as quietly, and Iris doesn’t know the question she’s really asking the answer to. Or, maybe she does. Maybe it was written before she understood that it had been for her, and all she’s done ‘til now, and all she’s been ‘til now, has led her here. Maybe all of the stories she has written have prepared her to live in her own, to cling to this feeling, even if society would have her think it’s too soon or too much or far too scary. But she won’t voice it, not for real, not until those vestiges of fear are all gone.

They move, only for moments more, wrapped up in one another, his hand on her waist and hers on his shoulder, until they hear the sound of shoes on the floor and the muffled sound of laughter, pulling them away from each other.

They leave the gallery soon after that, and Iris is starving. She, likely against her better judgment, makes the decision to take Barry to Golden’s. She knows that Linda is tending bar tonight and the food is amazing, and she thinks that maybe it’ll go a little way in mending the bend between her and her friend. She can understand her sentiment; rarely do Iris and Linda keep secrets from each other. Iris knows that it’s been her own shit that’s kept her quiet, the feeling like she’s floating out on a piece of string and it would take only a snap for her to break away. Maybe keeping Barry quiet had been her way of holding on to him for as long as she could before he floated away too.

She parallel parks in an empty spot about a block away from the restaurant. She gives in to the urge to take his hand and they walk up the street. Central City is bustling for a Thursday night, the start of a weekend for many. She hears the music from a band playing from somewhere down the street and sees other couples walking hand in hand, smiling off to their destinations. Golden’s is just as packed when she walks in, but the host notices her immediately.

“Hey Iris,” Kamilla grins, the short perky woman waving as they walk up to the booth. She’s got skin a touch darker than tan and big brown eyes that always seem to be smiling as much as she does.

“Hey Kamilla,” Iris greets. Y’all are packed tonight.”

The other woman nods, her dark hair waving against her shoulders as she looks at the group of people waiting for tables along the side of the wall. “Yeah. I don’t know what’s up but we’ve been slammed since we opened for the dinner hour.”

“How long’s the wait?”

“Well, for you, not long. There are a couple of seats open at the bar or you two can go in the alcove. Xuan and Theo had some friends sitting back there, but they should be finishing up soon. I can put you at the bar until the table’s ready.”

Iris smiles widely. “You’re a saint. Thanks.”

“Anything for you, you know that.”

Kamilla leads them through the throng of people to the bar. Iris’s hand is still clasped in Barry’s and he squeezes once to indicate that he’s following. There are only two seats at the bar available, at the far end, away from where Linda is currently pouring drinks. It’s a long U-shaped bar, about ten seats along the longer side, two of either side of the U. The other bartender is down on their end, a slim woman named Allegra with light-honey colored skin and long dark brown hair. She sees Iris and waves, and then raises an eyebrow at Barry sitting beside her.

“Who’s this?” she asks when she walks over, noticing the way Barry is sitting sideways with his legs open, splayed out so that Iris is surrounded by him.

She and Allegra are not so much friends as they are acquaintances, stopping and chatting whenever Iris comes to hang out.

“This is Barry. Barry, this is Allegra.”

“Oh, so this is Barry.”

The sound of her best friend’s voice in sing-song comes from behind Allegra, thick hair swinging against her neck. She’s got a cryptic expression on her face, as she looks from Barry to Iris back to Barry again, also taking in his posture, their body language explaining what they haven’t said yet.

“He’s cute,” Linda says, winking at Barry, who blushes a little.

“Yes. Barry, this is my best friend Linda; Linda this is Barry.”

Barry gives up an easy smile and puts a hand out for Linda to shake. “It’s good to meet you. Iris has told me a lot.”

“Hmm, I hope more than I’ve heard about you.”

Snickering at her tone, Allegra leaves them to go handle another order.

“Don’t be rude because you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Linda grumbles. She turns back to Barry. “But she’s right. I’m sorry for being rude. I really am glad to meet you.”

“This is your parents’ place, right?” he asks, looking around, obviously impressed. “Iris told me about it. I’m excited that she brought me here.”

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. You came on a good night. We just started our new menu.” She pulls a plastic-covered menu from below the bar for him to look at. “Kamilla told me she’ll get the table in the alcove ready for you. I’ll whip y’all up something to drink while you wait.”

Linda gives her a pointed look and then she’s gone, cute navy blouse billowing behind her. Iris faces Barry, who’s watching her, one hand on the back of her chair, the other sitting on the sliver of skin from where her skirt has ridden up her thigh.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“That seemed like a lot.” He gestures towards Linda.

Iris sighs heavily. “Yeah. I’m sort of in my head about some stuff and Linda is taking it a little personally that I haven’t told her about it.”

“You mean me?”

“Partly,” she answers truthfully. “I, I didn’t always know how to talk about you. But it’s not just that; I’ve been dealing with some feelings of…listlessness. And I’m just trying to figure it out.”

“Iris, I…” He licks his lips, slowly, and leans in, close enough that she can smell the mint and wine on his breath. “If I’m moving too fast, I get that and I can pull back if you want. But I’m in this, to see where we can go.” His stare is insistent. “And you can tell me, if you want, about whatever else is bothering you. I’m always willing to listen.”

Before she can respond, Linda walks back over with two long-stemmed martini glasses, pale orange liquor filled to the brim.

“Ginger martinis,” Linda announces. “Something I just put on the menu.”

“In addition to being a badass writer, Linda’s a bomb bartender too.”

“Oh, you’re a writer too?” Barry wonders.

Linda smiles at Barry. “Yeah. Mostly fiction, though I dabble in personal essays. Nothing like our girl over here who can take someone else’s thoughts and make them come to life.”

“She is good, isn’t she?” Barry punctuates the question with a hand rub up her thigh. That makes Iris look up, startled, because they’ve never talked about her work before.

“You’ve read my work?”

“Of course,” he says, as if it should be obvious. “I’m working my way through your blog. I have been since you told me about it at the Fall Fest.”

Iris exchanges glances with a satisfied Linda.

“You hear that, Iris? Barry has been reading your blog since you mentioned it weeks ago. It’s almost as if…”

“Alright!” Iris interrupts. “Thanks, Linda. Goodbye.”

Linda laughs, throwing another wink at Barry before she blows a kiss at Iris. “I love you and have fun. Call me later.”

She’s done eating when he throws his napkin on top and slides over to her side of the booth. She blinks at him in confusion, but he just shrugs and says, “I wanted to be next to you.”

She scoots over to let him in, though it’s a tight fit, as she takes a sip from her water glass. They’re waiting on dessert, a decadent ginger créeme brûlée that Xuan created. It’s her favorite thing on the menu.

Iris thinks back on the course of their dinner. It’d been about as perfect as their picnic date, how conversation just seemed to flow. He tells her a bit about working as a forensic scientist and how he likes to use his love of science and problem-solving to help catch the bad guys. That leads into a conversation about her dad, a police captain for CCPD, and Barry is delighted to find out that he actually knows her father, a man he says he can tell wants nothing more than to do the right thing.

Iris talks a little about What a Life You’ve Lived , still a bit surprised that he’s reading through it. He asks deeper questions about a couple of the stories that really caught his attention. He likes that they read like short stories instead of interviews because they make the stories more fascinating. He wants to know how she chooses stories, what’s her writing process, if she does interviews or if they just send in and she cleans it up.

“A little of both,” she answers. “They send the story and then we set up an interview and we go from there. Sometimes they’re in person or on a video call. Some people prefer just emailed conversations because it keeps some of their anonymity.”

They laugh while they eat as they talk more about some of his more interesting cases, her funnier stories. Iris never really orders any food; Linda or her parents usually just tell the chef she’s there and the cooks do their thing, bringing out courses as they see fit. So they up her portions and Barry and Iris eat from the same plates, fighting over some of the items, like the garlic bok choy Iris always falls all over herself for and the shrimp and pork shumai that Barry attempts to eat more of.

Linda brings them another martini and on top of the glass of wine, she’s in a hazy sort of place. She isn’t drunk, but she does feel a little lighter, enchanted by the food and the drink and the company. Golden’s becomes a little more seductive at night, with lowered lighting and soft music, and the smiling, muted conversations that come with a date night. And so even though they eat and they laugh and they play, they do more. They make eyes at each other over the time of their glasses, watch a little too long as the other runs the teeth of a fork across the tongue. They caress one another’s hand when one goes for a bite of food. They tangle their legs, the feel of Barry’s hard, fabric-covered calves on her softer, bare legs far too arousing for how innocuous the movement. It’s teasing and it’s provoking and Iris feels it all down to the core of her.

So when he slides into the seat beside her, she brazenly throws her legs over his thighs under the guise of giving him more room. She’s thankful it’s darker where they are, that’s it’s more hidden where they are. Barry doesn’t miss a beat, placing a hand on her thighs and rubbing lightly. Their dessert arrives shortly thereafter and the waiter takes note of their changed positions with a smirk.

“You’ve got to try this,” Iris says, picking up one of the small spoons to scoop up a bit. “It’ll literally be the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“I don’t know,” Barry hums, sliding his hand higher up her thigh under her skirt. His palm is warm and a bit soft, an interesting contrast to the slightly calloused tips of his fingers. “I’ve had you in my mouth.”

He takes a bite like he hadn’t just said that, tongue licking around the spoon. “But it’s a nice second.”

“You’ve gotta stop,” Iris says, staring down at the spoon, momentarily wishing it was her. “You really just gotta stop.”

His answering grin is lopsided. “I don’t really think you want me to. Why else would you put your legs up on me like this?”

She gasps in mock shock. “What are you trying to say, Bear?”

His grin turns dirty. “I want you to say that name a little differently in a minute.”

He moves his hand up, taking the fabric of her skirt with him, tapping at her thighs to part them. She does it easily, dropping one of her feet back to the floor so that she’s spread for him. The skirt is pliant enough that she can spread as wide as she wants and it still covers her.

“Eat the brûlée,” he suggests. “Give your mouth something to do.”

He tips those long fingers up the middle of her thighs, up one side and down the other, up one side and down the other. It’s slow, like he always is, and for someone who’s claimed to enjoy running, he’s always taking his time.

And every time he goes up one side and down the other, he makes his way higher and higher, higher and higher, until his fingers are skimming her panties, lightly tracing the edges of the silk material. She jumps, a little gasp escaping her parted lips.

“Eat,” he orders. It’s crazy, how turned on how she gets because of him. Every time he murmurs some increasingly dirty thing, every time he uses those far too skillful fingers to touch her, she feels herself soaking her panties with no shame. She’s been just on the verge of wet since she picked him up and saw him standing there in all that all black that had made his pale skin and pretty eyes stand out in stark contrast. Now, though, she knows that were she to look, she’d see a darker green right in the middle of the crotch of her panties. It shouldn’t be so easy, not the way they are together, not the way they’ve always been together. It should sometimes be awkward and fumbling and…and...

“Fuck,” the curse startles her out of her own musings when slides his finger under the fabric of her panties.

“I told you to eat, Iris,” Barry reminds her, and she picks up the spoon with no further delay, scooping up a portion of the dessert and putting it in her mouth. At the same time, he slides a gentle finger along her slit. She’s imbued with, with awareness: the sweet taste of sugar on her tongue, the sweet feel of his digit sliding into her; the shock of the lemon-ginger filling her mouth, the shock of him pushing another finger in and to the knuckle. She lets out a silent moan against the spoon, taking his advice and eating so that she doesn’t fall back on the chair with her mouth wide open in ecstasy.

It’s a lesson in restraint, the next several minutes. He massages her as she eats, his fingers sliding in and out of her, in and out her, scissoring, and sliding, and rubbing, and then repeating the process. Her hips start to rock against his hand, undulating as she tries to get closer, as she takes his fingers and clenches around them. Her hand tightens on the spoon she’s using, and it’s a struggle to keep her eyes facing forward and not rolled in the back of her head. Because still with the two fingers fucking into her, he thumbs at her clit, rubbing in slow circles. She wishes that she could look down at them, to see what those long, pale fingers look like disappearing inside of her wet, pink flesh; but she can’t and even still, she can recall the look of it from their time on the couch. It feels like that did, when he was playing in her, but different and maybe better.

Because now he knows a little bit about what gets her off quicker, about the fact that although it’s torture when he’s fucking her at a snail’s pace, she likes the be fingered like that. She likes when he crooks his fingers, just a little, and when it feels like a gentle stroking instead of an all-out assault. She likes when he waits ‘til her clit is hard and peeking from its hood before he touches it, and then keeps at it, rubbing in small, slow circles. And “god, Bear,” does the creme brulee make this something else, make it more rousing, make it sexier, make it sound like go 'head, really get your groove on; cause tonight my man's coming through...i got another, nasty, freaky, just right way in mind; tonight, I'm gonna beat the high score. He slides in and out, he rubs slow circles, she rocks her hips like she would if she could be impaled on him right now.

And he leans closer to her, watching her face as he fingers her, mumbling as he does, “yes, baby, ride my hand, soak my hand, baby,” his voice barely above a whisper. It makes Iris jerk hard against the table. Barry attempts to slow down, but Iris all but gives up the idea of eating and grabs at his wrist. “No, don’t stop, Bear.”

He lets out an easy chuckle, twisting his wrist so that he can push deeper, his palm now rubbing against her clit, his fingers curved in her pussy.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” he whispers into her ear, and Iris whimpers at the dark timbre of his voice washing over her. “Hmm, you seem like you’d like that. Huh, Iris? Does the thought of all these people seeing you bite those sexy lips as you try not to scream get you off? Do you want them to hear how you sound right now? How you’re so wet I can almost hear you over them talking right now?”

“Bear,” she moans and it’s louder than she intends and Barry reaches out to tuck her into his neck. And she can’t answer, doesn’t know if she is getting off on them like this, but she feels her orgasm coming, hard and fast but smooth, gliding through her like it’s the easiest thing her body has ever done.

When she comes around his hand, clamping her thighs around his wrist, she stays tucked in Barry’s neck and bites down, because the creme brulee is all gone, and fuck if this doesn’t feel good. She makes a strangled sound in her throat and hopes that she bites down hard enough to muffle it, even if it marks him. She hears his own low groan, rumbling near silently in his chest, and Iris thinks that makes her come even harder, eyes shut tight as she savors it. She rides it out, clenching and unclenching like a vise over his fingers, and tasting the sweetness of his skin, feeling his hardness under her thigh.

“They’re never gonna let me back in here, Barry,” Iris whispers in a labored breath, after.

“It’s fine,” he says as he pulls his hand out of her. He looks at it for a moment, at her slick glistening on his skin, and then he puts the two middle fingers in his mouth, groaning at the taste of her. Iris thinks she almost comes again.

“They don’t even know what’s going on,” he continues, oblivious to Iris who’s watching him with blown eyes. At least she thinks he’s oblivious until he wipes the rest of her off on a cloth napkin and then shoots her a salacious wink.

She shakes her head, partly in amusement, and she smoothes her hands down her thighs above her skirt. Her one leg is still thrown across him. “How do you even get me to do shit like this? I’m so embarrassed. I was such a good girl before I met you.”

His chuckle is a rumble against her. “You are good, baby. So fucking good.”

She lifts her head, because something about that last part seems like more than just teasing. He curls a hand around the back of her neck, making her hold his gaze.

“You smell good,” he says. “You taste good. But more than that,” he pauses as places a hand on her chest, just above her heart. “You are good.”

“You don’t even…”

“Don’t,” he stops her. “Don’t say I don’t know you. I mean sure, I still haven’t figured out all the things that anger you or what you’re like when you’re stressed. But I’ve watched you talk about your family and I’ve seen the compassion you have for the people you write about and… and when I tell you you’re good, I mean that.”

She tucks herself back into his neck after that, wrapping her arms around him to acknowledge his comment, to try to tell him what she doesn’t know how to say yet. It would make sense that she move away from him, that she set herself back to rights. It would make sense that she step back, to clear the haze he’s got her in, to make sure she’s reading this story correctly. But something else tells her that she might be, that she might even be reading it a tad too slowly, so she stays right where she is, his hand rubbing up and down her back. And she closes her eyes, hoping that the story doesn’t end too soon.

Is it the way you love me, baby?

#westallen fanfiction #iris west #barry x iris #barry allen #strangers to lovers

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ariparri · 3 years

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✨Shine Ship Headcanons✨

Alrighty here’s some content with fandoms&flowers’s Brook Powers and Carson Ivey!

There was so much to write about these two, I wasn’t expecting them to be this cute (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

These two are very big on PDA and physical affection. Carson’s not afraid to announce it to all of Hogwarts. In fact he would definitely interrupt a quidditch match and announce it there by fighting for the megaphone with Murphy (he would do this with all of his ships honestly). He may even gift Brook a large bouquet, balloons and a plushie he clearly didn’t bug Veruca to make it. Veruca eventually got fed up and taught him how to make one.

Carson likes to cup her face and sometimes squish it before cooing at her for being cute. He would let Brook style his hair and put bows in it.

Due to Brook’s constant nightmares, she hates sleeping and barely eats. Carson gets worried over her, and starts stressing himself out trying to get her to take care of herself.

To try to help her sleep, Carson would tell her stories of his childhood and maybe some funny, embarrassing moments between him and Veruca. He would also try to feed her when she’s not eating herself. Food is important and he’d hate to see her starve herself.

Both of them love to cook together, especially baking. They’ll start out prepping everything perfectly normally until someone smears food on the other’s face. It eventually turns into a mini food fight causing the each other to laugh. They also share recipes they love, Carson especially shares his mother’s lemon poppy seed blueberry muffin recipe.

Shiny things aren’t the only thing these two both love. Both Brook and Carson love to go swimming so water dates are a common thing between these two.

Carson would prefer to go swimming at a pool or water park since there’s no animals. However he will take Brook to the beach or a lake if she wanted to swim near the fishes. He’ll put up with them swarming him.

Despite Brook disliking her scales, Carson loves them. He loves the way they shine under the light and especially when in water.

He actually loves them so much, he switched from using blue and purple glitter for gold. He would even say that they may be shiny, but they can’t really compare to the way Brook shines.

If they’re out on a normal date and it starts to rain, Carson will pull her close and they’ll start happily dancing and having fun. Brook will even start singing Love Like You

Since he knows just how much trouble Ismelda can bring to Brook, he would diffuse the situation by distracting Ismelda or quickly bring Brook somewhere else. He wouldn’t want to see Brook get hurt or upset by her so he would always step between them and defend her.

Brook’s mother being a famous singer was a bit of a surprise to Carson. When he found out who it was, he at first was excited since he was a big fan. But after seeing Brook look bothered about him talking about her mother with such high regard, he’ll apologize for making her uncomfortable. He stopped talking about her or listening to her songs.

After finding out about what kind of woman she is, Carson was furious. He was so disgusted and ashamed of himself for even being a fan of her. He’d rant about how someone could be so awful to their own child. He burned whatever merchandise he had of her.

The Ivey’s are quite an oddball family, but always welcoming. Hudson can be a party animal and loves the usual dad jokes and Raylene is the same. When they first meet Brook, Raylene immediately pulled her in for a hug and practically cooed at her being cute. Hudson even joked about Carson taking after him a little too much as they were easily attracted to the extraordinary ones. Their kindness may have been a bit too much as Brook started happy crying.

Carson’s mother would absolutely consider Brook to be her daughter. Brook ends up getting her own little mug, designed to fit her style, as a way of being accepted into the Ivey family. They love hot chocolate and everyone has their own little mug.

When Brook finally cuts off her own mother, Raylene instantly brings her into a comforting hug, happy she was able to stand up to that wicked witch.

He may have a love hate relationship with creatures, but since Brook loves her pets, he will let them pounce on him if only they don’t try to destroy his clothes.

Brook in her animagus form is the only animal Carson would be able to be around with until the other creatures are fine with him. He can’t help but find her being a fluffy otter adorable.

Post Hogwarts, Brook owns a thestral ranch, and while Carson is very cautious around them, he won’t mind being around since Brook has them perfectly tamed. The ministry often assigns her to house other dangerous creatures until a home can be found for them. With small creatures, Carson will put up with. However with the bigger creatures, Carson would have to be sent to stay at a family or friend’s place till everything is completely settled.

He mostly stays with Veruca since they’ve been friends the longest. Though while he's there, he's going to be extremely bored and whine nonstop to Veruca about 'missing his babe' which would make Veruca roll her eyes and tell him to write her letters since he missed her so much. He does just that. Both Brook and Carson send each other increasingly sappy love letters.

At some point in their life, Carson catches Brook doing something absolutely reckless and when he confronts her about it she simply responds with “I try not to think it interferes with my being nuts.”

Carson was instantly hooked onto her and blurted out for her to marry him then and there. He would love to have someone match his crazy, and Brook perfectly suits him. Of course, he would still plan for a big proposal. Just to make it extra special for Brook, Carson ‘tried’ to get all of Brook’s beloved pets and creatures to be part of the proposal.

Everything was fine for most of it. Until the puffskeins got restless and jumped on him halfway through proposing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay so that’s the first set of polls complete! I now have to work on Isa’s introduction post, along with Shooting Stars and Hot Coffee. It’s the 23rd right now, but I should start planning the May birthday arts for Carson, Chester and Badeea.

🚫No Reposting🚫

#ariparri #shine ship #carson x brook #carson ivey #brook powers #hogwarts mystery #hphm #harry potter hogwarts mystery #mc x mc #au ship

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pcttrailsidereader · 3 years

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July 9, 2010 . . . A (Trail)Magical Evening at Drakesbad

By Rees Hughes

There are certain magical days on the Pacific Crest Trail that stand tall; days that rise above that broad forest of glorious days. These are the days that your memory immediately races to when you reflect on your life on the trail. There was the day we guessed our way around snow-covered Mt. Adams ending on a ridge with a commanding view of Mt. Rainier and a solstice sunset; the day we swam our way down Falls Creek marveling at the granite walls above Grace Meadows only to while away an afternoon in the soft, lush grass basking in the warm sun near Wilmer Lake; or the day we walked south from Cook and Green Pass past Kangaroo Springs to Lower Devils Peak with its ringside seat to the conflagration raging across the Klamath River Valley. Every hiker has their transcendent days.

Such days do not always represent a confluence of everything wonderful. It is their enchanted quality, what English writer Nan Fairbrother calls “exquisite moments,” that sets them apart. Besides, time seems to blur the difficult and brighten the best experiences of these stellar days. Such was the case this particular day.

The day dawned with vestiges of the tumultuous evening resting on the peaks above Lower Twin Lake in Lassen Volcanic National Park. We tried to shake off as much moisture as possible but there was no alternative but to pack the tents wet again. Dr. Howard tended to Don and Eli’s ailing feet. Wet boots and long days had chaffed their feet raw with blisters compounding their discomfort. There were unspoken thoughts of an early exit from the trail as it is no fun when each step hurts. Perhaps a short day will improve spirits.

Speed bumps of late season snow gave way to long stretches of snow sheltered by the dense tree canopy. I always find these situations wearing if not exhausting. Climbing up and down the steep edges of the snow banks; picking your path around downed trees; add in a couple of postholes. We carefully crossed several creeks swollen by the melt water and preceding night’s rainfall. About midday we reached the crest of a line of basalt cliffs that comprise Flatiron Ridge high above the Warner Valley and, more importantly, Drakesbad.

Drakesbad, initially established clear back in 1900 as a guest ranch, remains a rustic refuge accessible via a corrugated unpaved road seventeen miles in from Chester (which is pretty remote itself) or on foot. There are only nineteen units at Drakesbad some of which still rely on kerosene lamps. However, the price for a night rivals the cost of a month on the PCT. Yet, during much of the summer, accommodations have been reserved for years. It really is a Northern California Shangri-la.

As we made the long traverse down, we could see the steam rising from the hot spring pool set out in a broad meadow. The siren song of happy voices pulled us forward. Our own chatter focused on the possibility of reserving a space for dinner.

We set up our tents in the Park Service’s Warner Valley Campground, hung a line and did our best to give the high mountain sun a chance to dry out our saturated gear. Howard and I were nominated to walk the half mile to Drakesbad to ask about a table for four in the well ventilated section. We donned clean tee-shirts and tried to sponge away the most offensive trail musk.

As we stepped into the closed space of the dining room, even our deadened noses became aware of the aroma that accompanied us. The colorful tablecloths festooned the light wood of the dining room. The room was set for dinner. Salad forks. Second spoons. Wine glasses. The ambiance was simple but elegant. The realization that we didn’t fit here made us yearn for the opportunity that much more.

A tall woman brusquely emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen. She had the air of a person with a long list of urgent tasks and little time for hiker trash. Our first efforts to turn on the charm bounced off her and fell impotently to the floor.

We continued, “Any chance, any chance at all, that there might be a way to handle four more this evening?” We weren’t above inserting a hint of desperation in our request.

“The Ranch is full and we usually only have enough food for our paying guests,” she replied without a hint of sympathy. There was a pause as she saw our crestfallen faces. “I will check with the chef and see if there is likely to be extra food.” Perhaps it was her Germanic accent that underscored the futility of our quest. Perhaps it was that she didn’t seem to be heading off to ask anyone anything.

We turned to go, tails between our legs. Don and Eli will be so disappointed. We had hoped this would be an antidote for their blistered feet and bruised morale.

With one foot out the door, Howard asked if it might be possible to use the phone for a quick call home as our cell phones had not been working along this stretch of the PCT.

It was if Howard had uttered a magic incantation that had propelled us into a parallel universe. We were Dorothy trying to get into Oz. “Why didn’t you say you were on the Crest Trail,” Billie Fiebiger exclaimed. “We always have enough food for PCT hikers.” In fact, Billie gave us the key to the city. “Use the showers (please) and the pool. Make yourselves at home. Come back at 7 p.m. although you may not be seated until later.” Still shaking our heads at our good fortune and this rather mysterious turn of events, we hurried back to tell Don and Eli the news before the spell was broken.

As the four of us returned the dark clouds that had dogged us the past several days were building quickly. But, the warm showers and the hydrothermal pool kept us occupied until the rumble of thunder became more aggressive. Within minutes the remaining blue patches of sky vanished. Lightning forced us reluctantly to vacate the pool. The hail drove us for cover under the eaves of the bathhouse. The gusting winds pushed tentacles of rain toward even the most protected corners.

Valiant employees raced down the trail to the pool in an electric cart to rescue the castaways three per trip. The meadow had been transformed into a Sargasso Sea and the pyrotechnics kept us all jumpy. Eventually we were deposited in the Lodge where we were to wait until dinner.

The photo albums and memorabilia in the Lodge deepened our appreciation for just what a special place Drakesbad is. For two generations the Sifford family had built and tended this Guest Ranch. For over 60 years they reclaimed the facility after each harsh winter for its four months of annual operation. It had to be a labor of love. The facility was incorporated into the National Park in 1958. For the past 19 years, Ed and Billie Fiebiger have served as the hosts, caretakers, and stewards of Drakesbad.

Ed, in his chef’s apron, called us for dinner. We crossed to the dining hall and were promptly seated. There were several choices of entrees. Or, Ed suggested, “Try them all!” Heaping plates were brought to each of us. The folks at the adjacent table took a special interest in our story. One of their group had come annually for nearly fifty years. Another from their table was sent back to their cabin and instructed to return with some of their wine stash to be shared with us. “White or red?” “No”, she instructed her husband, “bring one of each.” We were peppered with questions and asked quite a few of our own. We soaked up the attention that comes with being minor celebrities.

Ed pulled up a chair. He had a bigger than life quality and exuded a warmth that permeated the hospitality of this magical place.

My cynical side wanted to peer around to make sure that we were not being fattened up by some wicked witch. But, Drakesbad is a place that replenishes your faith in the generosity of the human spirit. Distrust, doubt, and skepticism have no place here.

And, there was desert too. In fact, there were three kinds. “Try them all!”

It was tempting to linger much longer than we did. I confess that it was all I could to restrain myself from asking if they served breakfast too.

Eventually we said reluctant goodbyes and enthusiastic thank yous. The rain had stopped by the time we walked back toward our campsite. If we weren’t walking down the road with our arms around each other, singing and talking loudly, then it felt like there was that sense of conviviality.

The storm had spread our clothes across our campsite and sent cascades of water around our tents. But there was nothing capable of dampening our spirits on this magical day.

#Drakesbad Guest Ranch #Lassen Volcanic National Park #lightning #magic

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official-weasley · 4 years

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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 1, Ch. 2

PART 1: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN Chapter 2 - The Sorting Orientation

Nova

As the Head Girl said, we knew immediately where the First Year students have to be, as Penny, Tulip, Tonks and I stepped from the train, we almost bumped into a man so large that we stood next to him in awe, as he called all First Years to come with him. His name is Hagrid and despite his size, seems like a really nice man. Penny and I sat with him in one of the boats that took us First Years to the Castle. At first, we were quiet as we admired just how beautiful the school and the School Grouds are.

Then Penny and I looked at each other, her indicating that we should speak to Hagrid. We found out that he was the Gamekeeper and the Keeper of Keys for Hogwarts and that he lives in a little cottage on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, to where he most kindly invited us for tea and rock cakes.

When we finally got to the other side of the Lake and clumsily got out of the boats, Penny and I got reunited with Tonks and Tulip as we got up the stairs towards the Castle. Hagrid left us with a strict-looking witch in beautiful emerald robes and a very pointy hat that led us all the way to a giant wooden door for which she claimed was the way to the Great Hall where the rest of the students and professors were waiting for us to get sorted.

Besides telling us that her name is Professor McGonagall and she is the Head of the Gryffindor House, she told us that we can use the Great Hall for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day as well as to study and pass the time with the friends we might make from other Houses. Though she warned us that if the weather is nice, she would rather see us outside in the Courtyard or by the Black Lake which is one of the rare places the First Years are allowed to go on the Castle Grounds.

She then told us to stay put as she went through the big wooden door to see if everybody was ready for the Sorting. I was beginning to get nervous and by the look on Penny's face, she felt the same. Tonks looked rather excited so did the boy I heard talk about Quidditch on the train for which I now noticed he was in a wheelchair.

Professor McGonagall soon came back for us, leading us all inside the Great Hall. It was one of the most magical places I have seen so far. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside; something I read about in Hogwarts: A History in the car on the way to the Kings Cross Station. There were four sets of tables, each full of students that wore either red, green, yellow, or blue ties and were murmuring excitedly. I presumed they couldn't wait to see who would join their House as much as we couldn't wait to get sorted.

Professor McGonagall made us stop in front of the steps that lead to the long table where other professors were sitting. Before that table stood a chair and a hat on it, which I recognized immediately as the Sorting Hat as my mum told me all about it. The nerves kicked in again and I couldn't wait to see which of my parents won the bet.

After the Sorting Hat stopped singing, Professor McGonagall pulled out a long piece of parchment, corrected her glasses that slid off her nose a little, and began to read from what seemed to be a list.

“Ali, Badeea!” She called a girl with a beautiful blue headscarf. She sat down and Professor McGonagall put the Hat on her head. It immediately yelled: “Ravenclaw!”

“Blackwood, Nova!” I froze when I heard my name. I looked at Tulip, Tonks, and Penny who smiled at me and showed me to go up the stairs to the Hat. I sat down, bitting the inner sides of my lips as I was so nervous.

“Hmm, a though one I see. Very smart and witted. Would do good in Ravenclaw, oh yes. But I see now...courage also and loves to help others. Gryffindor perhaps? Where to put you? Your parents did good in both Houses, oh yes. However, your thirst for knowledge is quite strong. Better put you in Ravenclaw!” The Hat finally gave its answer and my chest got lighter as if I just passed a big test.

The Ravenclaw Table cheered as I was the second to be put in and I stood up and almost skipping every other step, I joined Badeea. Older Years could barely say a word to me when I heard Professor McGonagall call the next name.

“Egwu, Andre!” Was the boy she called next, who went up smiling. He too was sorted in Ravenclaw. I was surprised at how many of us went to Ravenclaw, while the Older Years cheered ever so loudly.

“Haywood, Penny!” I could hear Penny gasp, as she ran up the stairs and the Professor put the Hat on her head. I closed my eyes and hoped she would be sorted in Ravenclaw as well.

“Ah, we have a different one here. Smart, yes but also very loyal and nice to everybody. Hufflepuff!” The Hat yelled. The Hufflepuff Table was the one to cheer this time, while my heart sank a little when I realized that Penny wasn't in the same House I was. She, however, didn't seem bothered by it, as she waved at me from her Table, giving me a look that said that we are going to sort this out.

“Karasu, Tulip!” Tulip was next and I hoped that she is either in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, so that we wouldn't be divided too much.

“Ah, a lot of mischief and playfulness in this one. You like to plan things, yes, and very smart indeed. Ravenclaw!” Shouted the Hat, as Tulip ran towards our table. I joined the Ravenclaws clapping as Tulip sat down next to me with the biggest grin on her face.

“Kim, Jae!” A boy with hair that almost covered his eyes and a bit smaller than the rest was called and he was made a Gryffindor before the Hat was even fully on his head.

“Lee, Barnaby!” The boy with extremely green eyes that I heard arguing on the train about who will be a better Slytherin was called and not as much to my surprise since he was talking about it, was sorted into Slytherin.

“McNully, Murphy!” The boy with the wheelchair and the enthusiastic speaker was next. Professor McGonagall used a charm that swung his wheelchair in the air, and next to the chair where the Sorting Hat was, making the students that were still waiting to get sorted say: “Ooo!” He too was made a Ravenclaw.

“Tonks, Nymphadora!” Even though I was sitting at the Ravenclaw Table, I could hear her snort loudly when she heard her first name. Penny looked at Tulip and me and I knew we were all thinking the same. We were hoping Tonks gets into Hufflepuff so that two of us are in Ravenclaw and two of us in Hufflepuff and then all we had to hope for was that we had classes together.

“Another mischief-maker. Bit clumsy but with a strong will to help her friends and those in need. Hufflepuff!” Exclaimed the Hat. Penny's table gave out a loud cheer and applause as Tulip and I hardly resisted not to clap as well.

“I think we can make this work.” Tulip whispered to me, as Liz Tuttle became a Slytherin. Only a few more were left now.

“Weasley, Charlie!” Called Professor McGonagall, as the freckled boy I saw on the train complaining about getting the Helga Hufflepuff card was called.

“Hmm, let's see..a big animal lover.” The boy, whose eyes you could barely see due to the Sorting Hat being too big for his head smiled so much at what the Hat said that I thought his mouth will reach his ears. “Very big heart and a lot of courage I see.” Continued the Hat as I could see a grin on the face of the boy at the Gryffindor Table that sat with Charlie Weasley on the train. “Gryffindor!” Yelled the Hat and the Gryffindor Table burst out in cheers once again as the freckled boy sat down next to his brother, who ruffled his hair and said something to him that looked like “I am proud of you”.

After the boy called Talbott Winger was sorted in my House, I stopped paying attention as 2 girls became Hufflepuffs and a boy was sorted in Slytherin.

After the Sorting, a tall wizard in purple robes introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster. He gave a speech, welcomed everyone including the ones who came back, and told us that we are forbidden to swim in the Black Lake as much as we are not allowed to enter the Forbidden Forest.

“I think we ought to guess that by the name.” Tulip whispered in my ear and as I giggled at her words and stopped listening to Dumbledore, I turned back to face the table and to my surprise, it was filled with delicious food of everything that can ever be cooked.

—

We ate for what felt like a century as Dumbledore spoke again. He told the First Years that we have to go with our Prefects to show us to our Houses and made them put their hands in the air and wave at us so that we knew who to follow. Tulip and I followed a tall boy with black hair called Chester as he led us out of the Great Hall, to the left, through the Grand Staircase for which he warned us that it changes. Up two flights of stairs, to the right through the Quad and up the spiral stairs for what felt like the Fifth Floor until we reached what Chester called the Ravenclaw Tower.

We stopped in front of a door without a doorknob, a bronze eagle as a knocker and Chester turned to us. “Now, to get in the Ravenclaw Common Room you have to solve a riddle. The riddle changes every time you enter and you will never get the same one twice. Think before you speak because if you state the wrong answer you will have to wait for someone else from the House to get inside.”

He turned to the door and knocked with the eagle knocker. “What is shaped like a bowl?” Asked the Eagle. “A Kappa's head.” Said Chester loud and clear. The door suddenly made an unlocking noise and it opened. Chester waved for us to go inside.

Tulip and I entered in awe. It was so beautiful! We entered a circular Common Room with lots of windows covered with blue curtains. There was a carpet on the floor that looked like the sky and the ceiling it looked as if the carpet was its reflection. The furniture looked so comfy and everything was in blue. There were bookshelves everywhere and in the corner next to what seemed to lead to dormitories was a white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw.

If I thought I couldn't be more in love with my House, I was wrong when Tulip and I entered our dormitory, which had 2 canopy beds with beautiful silky blue linens. We had a fluffy dark blue carpet and the walls looked silver. On the opposite side of the door was a huge window with the same curtains as in the Common Room. Tulip and I gasped as we looked through and saw our view. We had to had the best view in all of Hogwarts as we could see the Black Lake, the Quidditch Pitch, and what looked like the Forbidden Forest. We could see the mountains in the back and something that looked like separated gardens, which I assumed was something to do with Herbology.

Tulip and I were quick to unpack our things as we were full of food and so tired that we could sleep for days. Once we got to bed we chatted for what seemed only a few seconds as we both drifted into a deep sleep.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Stephen King’s Favorite TV Shows According to His Twitter Raves

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“NOW WE’RE SUCKING DIESEL! If you don’t get it, you missed a great series.” Stephen King’s recent discovery of British police thriller Line of Duty – as relayed via a series of highly enthusiastic Tweets – was a delight to witness. King’s zeal is enough to make UK fans wish that he hadn’t binge-watched the BBC series from his home inside the sewers of Derry, Maine, but instead watched it at broadcast pace in the UK, where he would no doubt have made a sizeable contribution to the show’s Twitter larks. (King proved himself happy to join in with online TV show speculation when he correctly predicted the killer in HBO/Sky’s Mare of Easttown. You can bet he’d have had a take on the mystery identity of Line of Duty baddie ‘H’.)

Line of Duty isn’t alone in attracting King’s online praise; when the horror author watches a TV show he loves from inside the creepy Castle Rock devil shop he calls home, he lets his 6.5 million followers know about it. Below is a list of endorsements King has made on Twitter in recent years, from the usual sci-fi and horror suspects to a few less expected titles.

US MODERN CLASSICS

The Americans, Game of Thrones, Homeland, Sons of Anarchy and The Shield

In Stephen King’s house (inside Derry’s landmark water tower, The Standpipe) as of February 2018, only three shows were considered ‘appointment television’: FX Cold War spy drama The Americans, HBO fantasy epic Game of Thrones and Showtime spy thriller Homeland. King describes all three as “a cut above”. Going one further, three days after the Game of Thrones series finale aired, King called out the New York Times’ list of 20 best TV dramas for neglecting to include the HBO dragon epic. He’s glad the Times included FX cop drama The Shield, a show that “fundamentally changed TV”, but feels it should also have tipped a hat to FX motorcycle gang drama Sons of Anarchy. Get it right, New York Times.

INTERNATIONAL DRAMA

Dark, Fauda, Hotel Beau Sejour, Les Revenants, Marianne, Money Heist, To The Lake, ZeroZeroZero

Nothing scares Stephen King, not even subtitles. When he’s relaxing in his converted alien spaceship half buried in the woods of Haven, Maine, he enjoys nothing more than streaming a foreign-language box-set. He particularly rates German sci-fi Dark, which he called terrific, complex and very German, and recommends these explanatory recaps for anybody confused by its multiple timelines. Virus thriller To The Lake was called “a pretty darn good Russian series on Netflix,” while Israeli spy thriller Fauda was described as “all killer and no filler”. King called Belgian crime drama Hotel Beau Sejour “eccentric, brilliant and strangely touching. Supernatural fare for those who don’t ordinarily like it.” Speaking of the supernatural, King’s a fan of celebrated French horror Marianne, which he says could scare even “a sicko” like him. Also in French, he loved atmospheric supernatural zombie drama Les Revenants/The Returned, calling it sexy and scary. Netflix’s Spanish-language thriller Money Heist is “a firecracker” while he found Italian-Anglo crime drama ZeroZeroZero “bone-shaking, chilling, terrifying, epic,” and King found it hard to believe it could be bettered. High praise.

Why You Should Watch Black Summer on Netflix

By Ron Hogan

The Best French TV Shows on Netflix

By Louisa Mellor

BRITISH DRAMA

Black Mirror, Life on Mars, Line of Duty, The Stranger

From underneath his massive, transparent dome in Chester’s Mill, Stephen King will often enjoy a bit of British telly. Back in 2013, when it was still a Channel 4 show only just available worldwide on Netflix, King Tweeted that he loved future-tech anthology series Black Mirror, calling it “terrifying, funny, intelligent,” and compared it to an R-rated The Twilight Zone. The show creator Charlie Brooker, told Den of Geek at the time that despite being a huge Stephen King fan, his reaction was characteristically muted:

“I think I probably smiled? That’s about as effusive as I get about anything, because whenever anything nice happens in the world I always expect something appalling to happen immediately afterwards.”

BBC crime-drama-with-a-time-travel-fantasy-twist Life on Mars is another British favourite that King described in September 2020 as one of his favourite shows of all time, “the kind you go to when you’re feeling sad.” That same year, he called Harlan Coben’s mystery thriller The Stranger, starring Richard Armitage, as an excellent, addictive mystery. King’s British TV crush of the moment of course, is BBC crime drama Line of Duty, which he praises for having a central Mulder/Scully-type vibe between main characters Steve Arnott and Kate Fleming.

US THRILLERS

Big Sky, Bosch, Designated Survivor, Escape at Dannemora, Fargo, Mindhunter, Perry Mason, The Good Fight, The Man in the High Castle, The Morning Show

After he’s finished all the two-finger KitKats from the minibar at Room 217 of The Overlook Hotel, where he lives, Stephen King puts a thriller on the TV. Crime thriller, political thriller, legal thriller, alt-history Philip K. Dick thriller… he has time for them all. King is a particular fan of ABC’s murder show Big Sky, which stars Ryan Philippe and Vikings’ Kathryn Winnick. In February this year, he called it the best drama on network TV and said the final three episodes were stepping into Emmy territory. He calls Bosch an excellent detective series, one of the best on TV, with an engrossing story and superb cast. Kiefer Sutherland-starring series Designated Survivor he called excellent, complex and involving after its move to Netflix. Prison drama Escape at Dannemora is TV at its best according to King, who in 2015 described the penultimate episode of Fargo season two as the best thing on television in the last three years. In 2017, he strongly recommended David Fincher serial killer drama Mindhunter, and last year called the Matthew Rhys Perry Mason reboot a “damn good show.” In 2019, King called The Good Wife spin-off The Good Fight “the best show on TV”, and found nothing not to like about Apple TV+’s The Morning Show starring Jennifer Aniston. That was the year he also named Amazon Prime’s The Man in the High Castle season four as “amazingly good”, challenging and involving.

HORROR & SUPERNATURAL

Black Summer, Dracula, The Haunting of Hill House, Servant, Stranger Things, THEM

When he’s not nursing kidnapped novelists back to health in the remote Colorado cabin where he lives, Stephen King goes in for a bit of scare-action on the TV. He called Mike Flanagan’s adaptation of Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House “close to a work of genius” despite not being a fan of revisionism of its kind in general, and praised M. Night Shyamalan’s Servant for its focus, acting and atmosphere, adding “if there’s anything creepier or more binge-worthy than this, I don’t know what it is.” He loved Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ BBC Dracula, calling it terrific and “VERY bloody”, found the first episode of Amazon Prime Video’s THEM scared the hell out of him, and praised Netflix’s Black Summer for reinvigorating the zombie drama: “Just when you think there’s no more scare left in zombies. THIS comes along.” As for Stranger Things, he described the first season as like “watching Steve King’s greatest hits” in a good way.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Next week on What Famous People are Watching: is Stanley Tucci really that big on the Westminster Dog Show, or is he more of a The Underground Railroad guy? We find out.

The post Stephen King’s Favorite TV Shows According to His Twitter Raves appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3x6ARqW

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''leave a scar'' by marilyn manson

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demisexualnathanvuornos · 4 years

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Maggie Shaw (Emily Rose) Matchmaker Christmas (2019) 10/ 12

Dean: Hey.

Maggie Shaw: Hey.

Dean: Watch. You ever notice how often he comes and talks with Amanda?

Maggie: Well, yeah, yeah, why wouldn't he?

Dean: He's the head of accounting and he goes over credit card charges with her? He has a whole department.

Maggie: Well he. Oh. You think that he's making up reasons to see her?

Dean: Interesting, huh?

Maggie: Huh.

---

Amanda: I hate to see you go. Would it help if I shuffled your workload?

Maggie: No, it's not that. It's just, I think it's time for me to move on.

Amanda: I am a bit concerned about some of your deadlines.

Maggie: Oh, well the Wilmington Heights manuscript is nearly finalized, but I'll make sure of it before I go. And the others aren't gonna suffer by being passed off to other editors.

Amanda: [phone buzzing] Jaxson. He's offering to pick me up for the Christmas party. That's kind of sweet.

Maggie: Yeah it's good.

Amanda: Is there any way I can convince you to stay?

Maggie: No, but I'm not leaving till the end of the month so I won't leave you in a lurch.

Amanda: Okay.

---

Baker: "Logic told Dana that the robbery wasn't aimed at Russo. Logic was also the first thing Dana ignored. Perhaps it was a lapse in the calm and collective mask she'd normally maintain. But a hostage situation had that effect on her."

Jaxson Jones: Is Baker one of your authors?

Maggie: Yes.

Jaxson: He's good.

Maggie: Mhmm.

Jaxson: Maggie. Are you gonna finish reading my manuscript? [sighs]

Maggie: Probably not. I'm not your editor anymore.

Jaxson: Listen, can you just let me explain?

Maggie: I'm leaving Red Lake Publishing. [Why?] It doesn't matter.

Jaxson: What if I told you I did switch publishers when I found out you were at Red Lake?

Maggie: I would say I hope you didn't lose a lot of money on your prior contract.

Jaxson: I wanted to be near you again. All this time, I never stopped thinking about you.

Maggie: Yeah that's pretty obvious. [What?] Look. Did you come back to vilify me? To rub the past in my face? And now you're dating Amanda, I mean is that supposed to make me jealous?

Jaxson: That's what you think?

Maggie: I see what you're doing, Jaxson. And your Untitled book, frankly, it says it all.

Jaxson: Yes it does. But if that's what you're choosing to believe I guess there's no convincing you otherwise. You know what, this is all so familiar. You've always been so quick to think the worst of me. I guess whatever's easier, right? [What?] At least this time it's your choice, not your family's.

Baker: [clears throat]

Maggie: I'm sorry, continue.

Baker: "The words were oddly quiet, yet Russo's ears were roaring."

Maggie: Hey Marvin.

Marvin Hey. You know, world famous Christmas chowder.

Maggie: Thank you, that looks really good.

Marvin: You'll love it.

Maggie: Okay. Hey, Chester.

Chester: Hey Maggie.

Maggie: Mind if I sit with you?

Chester: Yeah.

Maggie: You okay?

Chester: What?

Maggie: You just look like you've had a rough day.

Chester: Not just today.

Maggie: What do you mean?

Chester: Christmas is just, it's a hard time for me. Why? Well. Well let me tell you a story. I mean you're an editor, right, you can tell me if this would be a good book, right?

Maggie: Okay.

Chester: Okay, so. Christmas time, six years ago. There's a man named Lester. And he's dating the love of his life and his career's on the rise with promise of promotion and stability to come like any day. And then the woman that he loves who we'll call Miranda, well she gets this huge promotion while his doesn't materialize for quite some time. And foolishly, Lester blames her for it. So much so that it drives a wedge between him and her. It's like he blames her for his circumstance and then he breaks up with her. Broke her heart.

Maggie: So what happened to them?

Chester: Well she thrived in her new job and you know, he eventually got everything he wanted with his career, but, he always remembers this time of year what he did to her, wonders what could have been, is doomed to wonder till the end of time.

Maggie: Doesn't sound like a very happy ending.

Chester: No, no, not a good book, huh?

Maggie: I'm sorry.

Chester: Yeah. Poor Lester, huh?

Maggie: Yeah, poor Lester.

---

Maggie: Hey, HR dropped off tickets for the party.

Amanda: Oh great, thanks.

Maggie: So how's the editor shuffle going?

Amanda: It'll be fine. I haven't told everyone yet but after Christmas I will.

Maggie: Okay. You all set with Jaxson?

Amanda: Yeah, we're all set for Friday night.

Maggie: No, I meant with the new editor.

Amanda: Oh, sorry. So I'm debating between Brooks and David.

Maggie: David. David for sure, he'll be a much better fit.

Amanda: You think so?

Maggie: Yeah. Oh hey. I am really glad that you found a date for the Christmas party.

Amanda: I'm sorry it didn't work out with one of your guys.

Maggie: Oh no, no, it's fine.

Amanda: I do appreciate you trying though. It was really nice of you.

Maggie: Yeah.

Chester: [knocking] Hey. I have the updated numbers for November.

Amanda: Oh great, just set them there.

Chester: Great. Hey.

Maggie: Hi. So did it always bother you getting dates for Christmas parties? Or did that start a few years ago?

Amanda: Maybe.

Maggie: You think he regrets it?

Amanda: Whether he does or not, it's not my problem.

Maggie: Okay.

----

Jaxson Jones Untitled: "His hands felt clammy. After years of wanting to see her again, here she was. And he feared more than anything that he would ruin this chance. They held a common hope between them one neither would or could admit yet. The hope for a chance without the interference of outsiders. Just two hearts yearning for the love of the other. She held her breath as he stood before her. "I never stopped loving you. "It didn't matter to me what I might give up or risk. "I had to take the leap and ask you one question." She waited, not daring to hope he was feeling what she felt. "Could you love me again?" Relief, euphoria, joy, and certainly love filled her soul. She pulled him towards her, embracing him like she never meant to let him go again. And as they kissed, he felt her lips against his and she whispered one sweet word, "Yes." "

#emily rose #maggie shaw #matchmaker christmas #nocticola art #emilyroseedit

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ghostcatsso · 4 years

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Alright I got the wolves all sorted finally, let’s get on with the story.

Gotta follow this guy again. He’s painfully slow

At least the wolves let me past this time

But I got stopped at this gate. The dark rider disappears down the road.

Guess I better go tell Alex what happened. Think she’s worried it took me an entire day to follow this guy? lol

She says we should go ask Jasper what’s beyond that gate. He’s like old as balls so he should know everything about the past, right?

Off to Jasper! I was complaining earlier but honestly I really do love when we get to ride with someone to the next part of a quest. Feels like actually having friends

Alex what are you doing? Jasper’s over here

He says that gate used to be unlocked every spring, just like this one I already unlocked, but years ago it stayed locked and it’s been that way ever since. Suspicious.

He also says that the mayor and his wife used to have a summer home on a lake up there. Also, curiously, he makes it sound like the riding trail is behind the gate when it’s not anymore. SSO needs to update his dialog, I guess.

Anyway, now I’m off to the mayor to ask him about the summer house

tell me your secrets old man

uh oh, we got a runner!

im on a horse, my guy. you’re not gonna out run me. spill or i sic my horse on you

He basically just says his wife got into witchcraft and it freaked him out so he left and locked her in there. That’s a bit messed up actually. He gave me the key since I’ve done so much for the city...I really haven’t done much but we’ll pretend I’m not ignoring all the sidequests rn

Back to the gate!

Oh hey Alex, lemme get that gate for you

Amazing

Now what do you want?

Ah, yes, of course. I’m the one to go in and snoop. She’ll just stand guard. You ever think about how weird it is they make the rookie do everything?

Spooky. I like the purple tbh

Oh hello again completely normal person, you’re looking as normal as when we met. I too like to keep my horses in birdcages. He likes to be tall, what can I say.

Ah. I appear to be a frog now. This is fine.

I managed to be unfrogged and I told Alex what happened. She said to go to Linda because she holds the braincell of this group and I think we’re gonna need it now

Hey Linda why are you never on your horse. Alex is like always with Tincan.

Oh and a witch has Justin’s horse

She, predictably, wants to research witches at the library.

I followed her definitely-not-creepily to the library

Chester that’s not helping, we’re trying to study witches

It won’t let me sit down to read the books so I just stood there awkwardly inside a chair instead. Compromise.

We got a lot of books to read, this is gonna take a while, in fact it’ll take all night. See ya tomorrow

#sso #quests #story quests #chance and charlie

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dansnaturepictures · 4 years

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My 10 wildlife/photography highlights of 2020 posts: Blog 2-Seeing some of my favourite birds this year-Part 1: A general look

As always in these thread of posts I shall now take a look back over times that stood out when seeing some of my 30 favourite birds this year. This highlights blog comes in two parts this year due to length, with part 1 tonight and part 2 tomorrow. This one a general look and the second part a detailed look into some favourite birds I saw very close to home at Lakeside and around the house whilst working from home in response to the pandemic. The number of favourite birds I have increased from 28 to 30 as I added two species that were previously on my B list of favourite birds the Short-eared Owl and Great White Egret. I saw 24 of the 30 this year which I was really happy with as with the pandemic etc. a lot of them it just didn’t look possible I’d see and for the other six it was either really rare/elusive ones or I just didn’t go anywhere where I could see one. I got off to a great start for favourite birds of mine in 2020 as I mentioned in my highlights blog yesterday over the opening days off I had of the year. Five of the year ticks I got on New Year’s Day were highlighted in red on my spreadsheet for my year list to denote they are favourite birds of mine, Great Crested Grebe a fitting first favourite bird of the year for me and not for the first time over Lakeside on the walk it would perhaps as I mention in tomorrow’s part of this post have the biggest role of all my favourite birds this year at Lakeside. I took the first picture in this photoset of one at Hayling Island in March. I then saw Buzzard and Little Egret on the way to Portland from the car on New Year’s Day on the motorway in Hampshire and as I said yesterday got spectacular Gannet and Short-eared Owl views there. The first three species were actually consecutive year ticks on my chronologically ordered list so this made it look distinctive on the list.

It was nice to tick off a good few more of my favourite birds at home on trips over the rest of those opening days, with the owls the last tick of mine on my highest ever New Year’s Day bird haul Brent Goose was the very next at Farlington Marshes on 2nd January, I also saw my first Shelducks of the year there. 3rd January just like New Year’s Day over Lakeside in 2019 was a woodpecker double as I saw my first Great Spotted Woodpecker of the year at Denny Wood in the New Forest and my first Green Woodpecker of 2020 on a quick sunny second Lakeside walk of the year that afternoon. On the way back from Denny Wood I saw my first this year of my other new favourite bird the Great White Egret in a field from the motorway at Broadlands. This year tick the one directly before Green Woodpecker so another double. Pochard and Jay were year ticks the next day at Blashford Lakes. I enjoyed some great times seeing these birds.

It has been a strong year for me for seeing Great Spotted Woodpeckers, I’ve seen many and its often been the bird to pop up when I’ve seen or photographed something else memorable to make it into a truly special day. Examples of when this has happened have been along the Titchfield Canal path on that classic day seeing Barn Owls, Fox and Roe Deers that I mentioned last night where I saw one fly over and at Blashford Lakes where I first fell for these birds on more than one occasion. I took the second picture in this photoset of one here on 1st March. It’s really reminded me why I adore this species with its striking appearance, sound and colours and the aura around it.

Back to the first days of the year and like last year on the way to Gloucestershire for Slimbridge for my birthday we stopped off at Red Kite stronghold Oxfordshire, having a look at some at Benson and like last year Watlington on the way there and back home. Especially on the way and particularly at Benson we enjoyed phenomenal views of this iconic and precious species. At Benson we saw dozens flying in the air at a time over a lane and some flew over very closely. Even though it was against grey skies it proved a perfect chance to test the flying shot ability I was unsure of on my new camera to begin this trip away. I took pictures I was so proud of including the third of mine in this photoset and most importantly enjoyed an exceptional wildlife experience with one of our greatest birds. It topped the same stop off last year. Red Kites continued to be more and more common at home building on last year where I noted this a lot as I saw some on the way to work from the train and during working days in Winchester quite often which was great, as well as a few at home which I talk about in part 2 of this highlights post tomorrow. I got a great view of a Red Kite flying low over our head at Noar Hill in mid-May which I took the fourth picture in this photoset of. At and on the way on the motorway to Fleet Pond I got great views of Red Kite and Buzzard on 27th September. At Slimbridge I took the fifth of one of the stars of the place a lovely Shelduck.

When back home and back to work in January attention of course turned to another of my favourite birds of prey the Peregrine Falcon, particularly Winnie and Chester the Winchester pair. I picked up where I left off in 2019 really what had been an amazing year for them seeing the adults and chicks so many times and taking so many photos on days I took my spare bridge camera to work with me. I got Peregrine as a year tick on 9th January with a view of one on the north tower at Winchester Cathedral. I then continued to monthly or twice monthly bring my bridge camera to work to try for pictures of these beautiful birds as they continued to fly between the cathedral and St. Thomas Church. In February I photographed both birds at both locations during the course of the month which felt fantastic, I took the sixth picture in this photoset during my February cathedral with-camera-visit. In April this picture and one I took of a hyacinth in the cathedral grounds taken in March both appeared in the Hampshire Chronicle newspaper in the camera club section a proud moment for me and this Peregrine picture appeared with an article they did on the family too. I got so many of my wildlife, landscape and minority subject pictures in the chronicle this year especially local ones whilst working at home which really stood out I loved putting my pictures on Facebook groups this year during lockdown and working from home. My photos of the Peregrines seemed to get better and better if I say so myself and I could just not get enough of seeing these birds. It sort of began to feel normal seeing them up until I had to work from home which brought other benefits a key theme in all of these highlights blogs but as I remarked when watching them at St. Thomas in February it sort of still feels surreal to be seeing this bird fairly close up at times and just so easily see one. I got stunning views of these birds regularly across this year again.

In February also it was ramping up towards their breeding season with the webcam being switched back on with a second camera this year too making their journey so accessible at more than one angle to all and by March eggs were laid. I found myself feeling the same feelings as last year when I first started to observe these birds around that time and I could look on the webcam before I left the office each lunch to see if they were about then go and see them. So it made me feel good in terms of my connections with these birds. When I was working from home due to the Coronavirus in late April I was thrilled to get little glimpses on the webcams on the cathedral website of the very little chicks as the eggs began hatching. Such an amazing moment. I was a lot more on the ball with reading updates this year than last of knowing when the chicks would hatch, hence I enjoyed seeing the eventual five chicks on the webcam in their early stages a lot more with great views of them being fed and things. As all five fledged successfully a big theme for me became watching them and Peregrine families from other local cities’ cathedrals a great thing to do whilst working from home which a lot of people did too in these isolating times. On 10th August I got a precious chance to go and watch the Peregrines again when I had to go into the office for a morning. My Mum dropped me off and picked me up at Winchester and during my lunch break I saw a noisy Peregrine fly over St. Thomas Church where I spoke at a safe social distance to a kind person about them, one flying at the cathedral and one adult on the Winchester Cathedral north ledge which looked fantastic in the sun of a summer’s day during a heatwave. It felt surreal being back seeing and photographing one with my bridge camera here after five months away whilst it was a one-off thing. Seeing them in the flesh and indeed just seeing Peregrines I didn’t see one on walks at any stages of the restrictions in between elsewhere I don’t think felt quite surreal. It did give me a valuable chance to connect with this bird once more, a chance to reminisce on my times with the families in previous years and the successful year for them this year again with the five chicks fledged unusual for the species I learned to fledge that many and it was bringing something I do so much whilst working in the office at lunch breaks at Winchester into what the days in my life were like at that time which was very different. A very warm and satisfying feeling being so in aw of them and watching one I could not take my eyes off it when there. I also got fantastic views of a Peregrine flying at Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve again the Lymington end towards the start of the year where I had seen one on Christmas Day 2019 and I saw one there in October.

Winchester really confirmed itself as the raptor haven I’ve portrayed it as this year with one of my non-favourites Sparrowhawk a regular sighting for me here but also great Buzzard views often with quite a few in the sky at times. A great chance to enjoy a bird that’s been one of my favourites for a long time as I have at a lot of places this year. I enjoyed Buzzards immediately locally in lockdown a lot as I mention loads in my next highlights post. But on days we did other local walks in lockdown it was nice to appreciate different common members of my list of favourite birds and get excited to see and hear them a lot. Notable instances seeing Little Egrets and Red Kite flying over at the river Itchen, Bishopstoke, many Jays and a Great Spotted Woodpecker heard at Stoke Park Wood and another Jay and a few Buzzards flying over at Magdalen Hill after I’d seen two of the latter at home that morning also. Shelduck alongside favourite birds of mine I’d more regularly seen seeing during lockdown Great Crested Grebe and Little Egret was a delight to see at Lymington on 23rd May when we did our first trip there and to the sea in just over two months as I took pleasure and had a surreal feeling at seeing common species of that habitat which I hadn’t seen for months so this felt great. When at Pennington a couple of weeks later it was lovely to see Shelducks with adorable ducklings among many other baby birds that day as well as many Little Egrets and Great Crested Grebe. When back at Pennington in early September I very much enjoyed seeing older young Shelducks, Little Egrets with a few flying right by us which was nice and it was almost weird seeing Great Crested Grebes on the sea somewhere other than Lakeside with my journey with them there this year detailed in my next highlights post.

On a January day at the Lymington end of the Lymington-Keyhaven nature reserve I marvelled at Kingfishers again with some great views as they were a year tick that day for a third year running here. A memorable time again. I’ve also had such a good year for Brent Geese another speciality bird here with many seen and heard at different locations. One weekend that sticks in the mind is a February one where I saw lots and photographed some at Hayling Island on the Saturday and then I saw many more and photographed one at Pennington on the Sunday the seventh picture in this photoset. When seeing Brent Geese at Farlington Marshes in early October at the point in the reserve I had my first amazing experience as a boy with them when hundreds flew over my head noisily I reflected on why this made me fall in love with them. Farlington Marshes as I’ve said so often is one of if not the best place in the country for Brent Geese there are so many around in the season and it’s so good for them. I read a bit that day about how important the Brent Geese are to the local area as their presence has stopped a lot of development proposals in Portsmouth over the year including Portsmouth Football Club’s desire to leave their Fratton Park home to build a new stadium at a site at Farlington near to the marshes. Which we could have a huge debate about but there is no denying this is helping the environment. So it reminded me something I am passionate about just what a special place this reserve is and what a special bird this really is in Hampshire as a whole. That October afternoon was a special one for favourite birds of mine at Farlington with Shelduck seen well and lots and lots of Little Egrets, Great Crested and four Buzzards one on a light three flying together seen on the M27 on the journey there. It was also a memorable goose day as I enjoyed close views of the odd Barnacle and Snow Goose that goes to Farlington that I had seen before here and at Baffins Pond where they fly between really intimate views that day and I got pictures. On 31st October I enjoyed seeing lots of lovely Brent Geese at Lymington there in numbers by that point as well as Great Crested Grebes out to sea and great Little Egret views I took a photo of one of the latter.

On a daily exercising walk on 2nd May I made it a tenth spring in a row that I’ve heard a Cuckoo in since I saw my first in 2011 when I heard a faint one calling at Bentley Wood which was magical as always. Hearing one of these birds is almost as good as seeing one especially my first in a spring it’s that exciting and amazing it’s the sound of spring for me. I heard Cuckoos really well on a visit to Martin Down in mid-May when restrictions had lifted a little so we could go there it was nice pure belts of it to hear very clearly it does feel me with such joy hearing it. That day I got smashing Buzzard views too of one at the reserve, one flying along the lane as we exited and two closely on posts on the way back. When back in late July I got a brilliant view of a wet Buzzard on a rainy day on a pylon on the way home. The next day after that I got a nice view of a Buzzard flying over at Stockbridge Down. I was so happy to see my first Cuckoo of 2020 and make it my fourth consecutive year seeing them at stronghold for them Fritham in the New Forest where we were very lucky to see two and hear the call again throughout the walk on a nice sunny and hot second May bank holiday Sunday. What a top experience! The next day I heard another Cuckoo at Bentley Wood much more clearly the sound was than the last time here, it’s certainly different hearing them after seeing one there’s no pressure of I’ve heard it now I need to see it but it’s just amazing hearing them on their own as I’ve said before anyway. That day I also saw Jay and Buzzard flying through. I got a brilliant view of Buzzard on another visit here the following Saturday a paler looking one over the path against a blue sky. Cuckoo, Buzzard and Jay were stars of another Martin Down visit to close May, hearing the former and seeing Jay at the beginning of a hot and sunny walk. On that walk we got brilliant close Buzzard views flying against a bright blue sky so nice to feel spoiled by this coming so soon after similar at Lakeside again and again in weeks one particular Lakeside Buzzard moment from the spring I mention in part 2 of this blog tomorrow. On 13th September we got as we often do a nice view of a Buzzard on a telegraph pole on the way home from Martin Down. A place that September day when we walked around the reserve we also got some great moments watching Red Kites watching one mobbed by a Jackdaw a lot not a sight I’ve often seen so that was very intriguing to see on a great afternoon of birds.

On 13th June at Common Marsh I got a brief view and then cracking prolonged binocular views as it moved around the reeds of my first Sedge Warbler of the year. I took the eighth picture in this photoset of this bird. I really did see what a beautiful, well-marked and striking bird it is that day and it reminded me why I love it. A key moment in one of my best general and packed Saturdays this year where at Stockbridge Down where we went first we saw two Buzzards and Red Kite and Little Egret seen at Common Marsh as part of an impressive array of birds by the river. I had a quite honestly rare in years for me now second encounter with a Sedge Warbler on a scorching Saturday 8th August at Farlington Marshes getting a great view of one in and around the reedbeds. It felt amazing. I also saw a Buzzard sat on a post for our whole walk that day as well as Little Egret and Shelducks including young on a generally brilliant day of birdwatching with many other top species seen too. On 18th July whilst dog sitting I took Missy on a walk at Fleming Park in Eastleigh I’d not been for years over the old golf course. I knew from when we used to go there loads that it’s good for Green Woodpeckers and sure enough I got two great views of them on this walk really brilliant to see I enjoyed it on a generally great local Saturday of wildlife and photos for me so much seen and so many taken a very hot and sunny day a true part of summer, it was a brilliant welcome back to the old golf course area of the park for me. On 1st August at Emer Bog and Baddesley Common nature reserve it was great to hear a Buzzard calling closely a lot and see a Jay a memorable afternoon generally for me. I saw another Buzzard really well the next day at Magdalen Hill flying over my head which was fantastic not for the first time at this near to Winchester reserve this year with Kestrels seen well that day also as they often can be there.

‪On 16th August at Hayling Island oysterbeds we were treated to glorious views of two young Buzzards flying around and in trees. They looked so creamy and lovely in plumage. Their wingspans looked massive as they flew over it really was quite a sight to behold and I loved seeming them in the sunshine. Quite a moment. That day I also saw Great Crested Grebes out to sea and a Great Spotted Woodpecker during rain at Earnley Triangle on Hayling Island where we went first.

I had a great August bank holiday Sunday walk at Thursley Common in Surrey seeing a few Dartford Warblers near to the car park in an area here we never had before possibly relocated from the area we see loads behind the lakes on the heath that had been badly burnt by the heath fire in the spring so this was encouraging and great. That day on a day Hobby and Kestrel views starred too I liked seeing a Red Kite an ever present here on our visits and the area generally in a glorious weekend of raptors with five species seen and a woodpecker double with great particularly flying views of Green and Great Spotted making out their lovely markings I heard the or a green nicely too. I saw another Dartford Warbler very well at Ashley Walk in the New Forest on 17th October on a generally brilliant afternoon I wrote more about that in my third of these posts going out next Thursday about my visits to the New Forest this year I saw a Buzzard well that day too.

I wrote about experiences with more of and some I’ve mentioned here and part 2 of this blog already my favourite birds a lot in my fifth of these posts about my week off in June, when I saw my first Dartford Warbler of the year at Arne and another at Thursley Common, my first Guillemot, Razorbill and Fulmar of the year at Durlston and then again at Portland the next I took the ninth picture in this photoset of a Fulmar from the cliff flying that day and my first Osprey of 2020 at Fishlake Meadows. In my seventh of these posts about my autumn some get a mention. In my eighth of these posts about visiting Devon and Cornwall for a weekend in August I wrote about seeing my first Dipper of the year at Fingle Bridge and first Choughs of the year at Cape Cornwall and Botallack, and some favourite birds of mine get a mention in my ninth of these posts about our week in Norfolk too where at the nature reserve Sculthorpe Moor I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of a Kingfisher. In my bonus eleventh highlights post this year about my November and December I also wrote about favourite birds of mine.

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