#road glide st

[insanethrottlebikernews]

MOST POPULAR HARLEY DAVIDSON ON THE ROAD

MOST POPULAR HARLEY DAVIDSON ON THE ROAD

The latest trend in street bikes is the performance bagger. The style incorporates the ever-popular “bagger” motorcycle (really, just a cruiser with saddlebags) modified for performance and/or agility. With its new 2022 Street Glide ST and Road Glide ST, Harley-Davidson attempts to capture the zeitgeist of this trend. These new performance baggers—effectively, souped-up versions of popular…

[harleysite]

Harley-Davidson Street Glide ST 117 und Road Glide ST 117 mit Screaming ...

[slafkovskys]

Adam x older reader first kiss

“oh, you have the best timing,” she sighs as she pulls open the door to her bedroom to find adam standing there, looking a little shell shocked, “can you zip me up?”

“i- um, sure?” he hesitates, watching as she turns and pushes the sides of her dress together. he tentatively wraps his fingers around the cool metal of the zipper, placing one hand on her lower back as he glides it upwards. he stands there frozen for a moment until she clears her throat. his cheeks burn as he steps away, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck, “mom wanted me to tell you that we’re leaving soon.”

“okay,” she hums, stepping over to look in her mirror. she tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes, “was that all? i mean, luca could have texted me that.”

a pit forms in his stomach at the mention of his older brother, her best friend since grade school, “did you mean what you said earlier?”

“have we had this conversation before?”

he watches as she places her hands on her hips, looking at him with a teasing grin, “about last night-”

“adamo, adamo, adamo,” she sighs as she crosses the room. she stops in front of him and he stands a little straighter as she smoothes her hands down his chest, over the wrinkled shirt he’d pulled from his suitcase, “we’re both adults. let’s use our big boy words.”

“you like me?”

“i do,” she confirms, “i like to believe that i’m well past the age of saying things that i don’t mean when i’m drunk.”

“and i like you?” he phrases it as a question and she quirks an eyebrow, “i mean, i like you too.”

“there’s a cute lunch spot down the road that i’ve been eyeing since we got here,” her hands are still on his chest as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, “what do you say we both go missing for a couple of hours tomorrow?”

“luca-”

“why does he have to know right now?” she questions and adam closes his mouth. her lips turn up into a grin and she watches as his eyes drift down, “you can kiss me, adam. it’s okay.”

and the last time he was this nervous to kiss someone, it was in the eighth grade and he was worried that she would tell everyone he was bad at it. he leans down, intending it to be swift, but she doesn’t allow that. she sneakily glides her hand up his chest and around his neck, keeping his body pressed to hers. his hands find her hips and it lasts for a moment more before she’s pulling away.

he doesn’t let a whine slip from his lips.

she chuckles, using her thumb to wipe away the lipstick that had smudged, “you’re cute when you’re whiny, but make sure you get the rest of that. i don’t want to give us away so soon.”

send in your requests for sts!

[thetruearchmagos]

Swift Seas And Whirlwinds

An Excerpt: Prologue

Hey folks, Arch here, with a little Prose written on a sudden whim. I've had a a few vague ideas of what I'd like to see someday in a novelisation of SSAW for some time, and one of them pertained to what might go into a 'Prologue' of the first book. Here, that idea's been put to words!

Tagging @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @hessdalen-globe @caxycreations @thatndginger @username-cause-i-need-one @avrablake @coffeexafterxmidnight @nerdexer @lividdreamz

They came for him in the morning. 

Three cars, jet black with tinted windows, glided down the road on St. Quentin Street. This early, the ordinarily busy thoroughfare was empty and lifeless, cast in shadow and the dim light of dawn. The storefronts on the street were still shuttered, and with their lights turned out. 

Except for one. 

The Cafe Dubois wasn’t open for business just yet, but its first customer of the day was already enjoying his breakfast. Seated at a table along the window facing the street, Captain Girauld Castex enjoyed his black coffee and buttered toast, and the show slowly unfurling across the street.

The motorcade pulled along the curb opposite the cafe, coming to a stop in front of a stately brown townhouse just like all the others on the block. The sound of their breaks screeched into the still air, followed quickly by their doors, which opened in unison. 

The men who stepped out of the cars moved with just as much measured efficiency. The fore and aft cars discharged three each, the one in the centre letting out just two. After all, it had to leave an empty seat.

Once they’d formed up in the windy street, they set off towards the house in two lines. All were dressed sharply in black, under black hats, but those pulling up the rear pulled out batons from under their coats.

Castex heard a small noise coming from behind him, distracting him from the scene. It was Mr Dubois himself, standing behind the counter, leaning himself against it for support with his right fist to his mouth. The Captain ignored him.

The man in front rang the doorbell, though Castex certainly couldn’t hear anything. After a moment’s pause, he would, as the smashed point man smashed the door in with two hard kicks. The assembled mass surged through with all the power of a tidal wave, sweeping through and into the home.

The next few minutes were, no doubt, a period of frenetic, vicious action, tearing through all three stories of the fine estate. Castex couldn’t see anything past shadows against closed curtains, or hear anything beyond the occasional crash of something smashing to the ground, but he nonetheless knew every move and every act taking place within those four walls. He knew it in his bones, with all the certainty of a conductor playing the same score for the five hundredth time.

It was all over by the time Castex finished his cup of coffee. Silence reigned as the first rays of dawn’s light cast themselves down the road, and the eight men swept through the shattered door frame the other way, with one more tightly penned in between them. The new figure, forced into the cool morning still in his underclothes, held his head low and hands covering his face as best he could. They each returned to their respective vehicles, the ninth man wedged between the two in the centre car. Then, with all the fanfare with which they came, they slipped into the slowly waking gloom.

“Another coffee, if you please.”

Castex heard no reply, and with an exaggerated groan worthy of his station turned once again to Monsieur Dubois. He hadn’t moved an inch in three minutes, frozen as still as stone. 

“A coffee, Monsieur.”

At last, the man’s lips moved, though his words barely crawled out of his throat.

“Monsieur Capitaine… Monsieur Allard, he—”

“Will receive his due as a criminal, and no more, yes. And so shall you, good sir.”

Castex could see the pasty man turn even more pale, if such a thing were possible.

“Sir, I…I only—”

“You did your duty for your country and countrymen, and for that the People owe you a great debt. Approach the local magistrate, the same man you gave your little ‘tip’ to, and I’ll see to it that our nation’s gratitude is adequately expressed.”

The Captain smiled, though it probably did little to calm the man’s silent terror. Dubois pulled away from the counter and to his feet. Without the support, he seemed almost to curl in on himself, shrinking in stature before turning away, wordlessly, into the back of his cafe.

“And get me another coffee!”

Castex couldn’t help himself. Sometimes, he loved his job.

[honeesucker]

Gliding Into You

Pairing: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,024

Content Warnings: Hawks calls the reader ‘Chickadee’, allusions to past relationship violence/PTSD, Hawks injured by a window / wound tending, mentions of blood, soft descriptions of intimacy (feelin’ dreamy).

*For @frostthecupcake​ ‘s collab!  💐

Click here for the rest of the collab! ♡

The snow-covered streets of Musutafu were a pristine white after the new snow that fell in the late afternoon; you had watched with excitement as you wrapped up your workday at a prestigious Hero Recovery Center – a perfect fit given your quirk that allows for healing at a cellular level. This new job in the city center of the Pro Hero capital of Japan, and your newly found freedom after breaking free from your ex-partner and their controlling, manipulative hold over your life for the last six years left you feeling light enough to float off down the street.

You were currently walking home from some post-work holiday shopping, bundled up in a thick jacket with a plush scarf wrapped around your neck pulled up high enough to cover your mouth and nose, fluffy earmuffs and mittens added for extra warmth, leaving only your eyes exposed to the icy air – evident by the dusting of snowflakes landing on your eyelashes. However, none of the discomfort of the chilled weather dulled your good mood as you carried two bags – one with steaming, crispy chicken for the Christmas holiday and the other holding a small box that had a perfectly delectable looking strawberry shortcake from your favorite bakery. This was the first time in a long time that you've been able to partake in the regular traditions of the Christmastime holiday and you practically skipped down the road that led to your apartment – you on the top floor of a 60-floor luxury apartment high-rise. Your apartment was also something new that you weren’t used to having to yourself, but your job gave you a hefty sign-on bonus due to your skill and their desperate need for people with healing quirks, allowing you to gain one of the best overlooks of the city. Your building also came with heavy security given the status of many who lived there, and that security was worth the cost alone to you.  

Your night doorman was there to greet you before you even walked up the snowy steps, holding open the door for you as he gave a bright smile with his greeting as you passed him to enter the heated lobby, snowflakes already melting off you. One of the lobby security guards had already gone ahead and pressed the elevator button for you, and within a few seconds the melodic ding! announced its arrival. You bid both men goodnight as you entered the elevator and within a few silent minutes, save for the gentle instrumental Christmas music playing from the elevator speakers, you were already being greeted by the sight of your door – you walking swiftly to reach it and punch your key code in so that you could finally unwind and enjoy your night. You sat your bags down atop the thin, sleek table in your entryway as you pulled off your scarf and coat to hang, your mittens and earmuffs being hung on your coatrack with the other snow-dampened items, and finally your shoes as you slipped your feet into the comfy house slippers you had waiting for you. You grabbed your bags and walked across the open space that led to your kitchen adjacent to your living room, unbagging and setting the cake box and the chicken on the countertop of your kitchen island, the steam filling your apartment with the mouth-watering smell of fresh fried chicken.

While you couldn’t wait to eat you knew you had to get out of your work clothes and shower to truly feel relaxed, so you rushed to your room to grab your favorite soft, black pajama set consisting of a baggy long sleeve top and soft, cheeky shorts. You left the fresh clothes sitting on your bathroom counter as you turned on the shower, stripping the day away as you put your worn clothing in the hamper, and finally stepping into the warm spray of water and steam. The feeling of the water nearly being hot enough to burn your skin felt nice compared to the icy chill you walked home in, the scents of your shampoo and conditioner and body soaps helping to relax you as you made your way through the familiar routine. You had spent an extra five minutes or so in the water before relenting, getting out of the shower and drying off with one of the fluffy towels hanging on the wall. Once dry you slipped on your fresh clothes and walked into your bedroom to grab a pair of fluffy socks, and your house slippers, and after slipping into both you sat on your bed for a moment to check the messages on your phone you had plugged in to charge on your nightstand.  

It was this moment of peace you were ripped from as your whole body reacted, jumping back onto your bed with your back against the wall. Your ears were ringing from the shattering sound of glass and splintering furniture and soon, aside from the new chill taking over your space and the howling of the wind, you weren’t picking up any further sound. Your heart was beating like a hummingbird’s wings against your chest as the edges of your vision blurred into a narrow tunnel, anxiety gripping your whole body.

If it was him, he would have made himself known by now.

You decided there was no avoiding whatever the fuck awaited you outside of your bedroom, finally scooting to the edge of your bed as you carefully set your feet on the ground, taking tentative steps toward your bedroom door in case the situation called for a stealthier approach. As soon as you gathered the courage to peek around the corner to see the destruction of your living room and balcony sliding door, glass and splintered wood scattered across the expanse of your living room – what you saw lying in the middle of the room was truly the last thing you expected.

“Hawks?” You whisper-shouted. Surprise erased your anxiety as you stepped carefully out of your bedroom. Hawks wasn’t moving as you took in the mangled look of his ice-covered wings, even in their current state they were unmistakably the iconic red wings the number two Pro Hero was known for. You saw that his tan pants and jacket were shredded up, probably from crashing through the glass, and your eyes zeroed in on the first signs of pooling blood beneath his wings and head.  

Immediately you went into action, kneeling beside Hawks without a care for the glass or splintered wood digging into your knees as you began to assess the damage before you. You didn’t want to move him in case there were more severe internal injuries that could be made worse with the wrong movement, so you elected to leave him in the half-fetal position he was in as you activated your quirk. Glowing tendrils of soft electric blue began to extend from your fingertips out toward the unconscious hero, your fingers making quick contact with his body. You shut your eyes as your quirk helped you to visualize what you were feeling in his body. He was out cold, so luckily there was no need for pain management now. You focused initially on closing the wounds that were causing the largest blood loss, reducing the wound size of the laceration to his scalp and his left side where glass had sliced across his abdomen. Smaller tendrils of your quirk broke off and continued to work on the cellular structure of his skin, pushing out any embedded glass and working on the smaller cuts – your larger focus was now on Hawks’s wings. His wings suffered damage that you knew didn’t come from just flying through the glass door of your balcony, he was missing a lot of his primary feathers and there was serious damage done to the body of his wings; extensive internal damage that was pushing your quirk to the limit of what you were capable of, to stich the inner fibers of him back together so that he would be able to fly again. Your mind was racing, the internal structures of Hawks’s body in your mind's eye as your quirk worked its way through his body. You pondered what caused this kind of damage – nothing naturally occurring that you could think of in your years of treating emergent medical cases – no, this had to be the cause of a quirk... the question left is what kind of quirk causes this much cataclysmic destruction in the body?  

“Fuck,” the word was a harsh, breathless whisper between your teeth as your body continued to be pushed closer to the edge of your limits than it ever had before. “Almost done, need you to keep pulling through this, Hawks.”

“M’doing mhh’bst-” the words were mumbled, dreamy and quiet like when someone talks in their sleep, words mushed together but you can still make out the meaning. Your heart stopped in your chest as you realized he was back on the living side of things – you wanted to sigh in relief but feared that the second you relaxed even a little your body would give up on itself.  

Just a little more!

A last push of your quirk extending within Hawks’s body and repairing the final bits that would ensure his successful recovery, and you could rest yourself.

Finally!  

The final damaged structure within Hawks was repaired, a snap! felt throughout your body that told you it was all completed.  

He would be okay.

He would be okay.

He would- your vision blurred and narrowed, black dots and twinkling blue specks dancing in what remained in your diminishing vision.

“Fucking called it,” you mumbled, body slumping to the floor beside the now-healing Pro Hero. Your eyes closed to the sound of his steady breathing.

Breathing.  

You could allow your body to rest knowing that Hawks was breathing and would continue to breathe – although not without consequence. His body would ache like nothing he had ever experienced due to being put back together at the cellular level the way he was, due to the unknown quirk's damage, and the regular bruising and scrapes from coming through a window would be present and heal as they normally would – but at least he would be left with no open wounds.  

The last thing you saw before your vision totally blackened was the steady rise and fall of Hawks’s chest, crimson plumage fluffing up in his sleep as the color returned to his face.

Darkness enveloped your consciousness as you succumbed to exhaustion, the weight of the intense healing process taking its toll on your body. It was a deep, dreamless slumber that seemed to last an eternity until the repetitive beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor became clearer the more your surroundings garnered more clarity. When you finally regained full consciousness, you found yourself lying on a soft bed, the aroma of disinfectant and the low hum of medical equipment filling the room. You blinked a few times, your vision slowly adjusting to the sterile white room with daylight filtering in through the large windows. It didn't take long for the events of the previous night to flood back into your memory—the shattered glass, Hawks crashing through your balcony doors, his damaged wings, and the mysterious quirk that had caused such devastation to his body.  

You turned your head to the side and saw Hawks sitting in a chair beside the bed, his eyes fixed on you. His wings, though wrapped in bandages in a few spots, appeared to be in a better state than before. Relief washed over you as it dawned on you that he had made it through the ordeal with only a few aches and bruises.

"Hawks," you managed out with your voice a weak, hoarse whisper. He immediately leaned forward, his expression a mix of concern and gratitude.

"You're awake," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine relief. "How are you feeling?"

I managed a small smile, my body still aching but the worst of it subsiding. "Better now. How long was I out for?”

“About three days,” he said, a worried expression overtaking his handsome face.

“Damn...” You whispered, settling back against the paper-covered pillow, albeit a bit crunchy sounding it was more comfortable than the floor you lost consciousness on.

Hawks nodded, a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Your quirk... it saved me. I've never experienced anything like it. You're truly amazing."

"It's just my quirk doing its job. But I'm glad I could help." You couldn’t help it as you blushed, feeling a surge of pride mixed with a touch of embarrassment at his words.

Silence settled between you both for a moment before Hawks spoke again, his voice softer this time. "I owe you my life. I can't thank you enough for what you've done." A warmth spread through your chest as his words sunk in. Hawks, the number two Pro Hero, expressing such gratitude towards you—it was overwhelming. But more than that there was a bond between you both forged through the shared experience of that night.

"You don't have to thank me, Hawks," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "I'm just glad I was able to help. Besides, healing others is what I do."

A few hours after you woke up you were allowed to leave the hospital’s care, Hawks offering to walk you home. The night air was cool, and a light snowfall dusted the streets, creating a serene atmosphere. Hawks draped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side as his wings shielded you both from the bitter Winter night air. The two of you walked in sync, matching each other's steps as you made your way back to your apartment.

“D-Do you...” Your voice trailed off softly as you thought your idea over again, wondering if it was too inappropriate to offer... finally you settled on asking Hawks back to your place. “You know, I never got to enjoy my friend chicken and the strawberry cake I bought for the holiday... I’m sure the food went bad by now. Do you wanna stop on the way back and come up to eat, if you’re not too busy?”

Hawks was taken aback as he stared at you, a bright look in his eyes. “Really? You want to eat Christmas food with me?” Hawks couldn’t stifle the laugh as you turned away from him quickly, not missing the blush on your cheeks as an embarrassed look took over your face.

“Yes, I do,” you stated simply, not playing into his teasing.

Hawks looked ahead, still leading you both back to your apartment as he smiled to himself, his plumage fluffing up as he grinned. “That sounds amazing, I’ve never had a chance to sit down for Christmas food like that.... I’d love to, with you.” His admission made you pause, and you glanced up at him, seeing the light blush on his tanned cheeks as he smiled. You couldn’t help the flood of butterflies taking over your gut as you just nodded, mumbling a ‘good’ under your breath and walking on with him. You made the same quick stops at the same places you had that night, grabbing fresh friend chicken for the both of you and a small, decadent Christmas strawberry shortcake.

The anticipation grew as you reached your apartment building, the savory smell of fried chicken growing stronger with each step. With an open door as your doorman greeted you, you entered the lobby together. Hawks glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I can't wait to dig into that fried chicken. It’s honestly one of my favorite foods.”  

“I’m glad I got a double portion just for that very possibility...” You grinned up at him, winking as he smirked, impressed with your forethought.

You rode the elevator to the top floor in comfortable silence, the soft drone of Christmas music playing in the background. As the elevator doors opened you led Hawks to your apartment, the delicious aroma growing stronger with each passing moment, and the moment you stepped inside the tantalizing smell of fried chicken enveloped the room, making both of your mouths water.

Hawks shrugged off his coat, revealing casual street attire underneath, and you followed suit, hanging your coat on the rack by the door. Excitement radiated through the air as you entered the kitchen, placing the boxes of crispy chicken and the cake on the countertop... your eyes trailing over to your living room, refurnished as if nothing ever happened.

“You... replaced my furniture?” You stated simply, confused and appreciative.

Hawks looked a little nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-Yeah, I hope you don’t mind but I had a sidekick help me track down the item numbers and replaced everything that could be replaced... there’s a box in the living room of some little trinkets that got shattered, that it didn’t seem right to throw away until you went through it.

“Thanks, I appreciate that a lot... you didn’t have to go to the trouble, though,” you mumbled out, amazed he even arranged it almost exactly how you had it before.

“I kind of crash-landed into your living room,” Hawks sighed, looking in the living room as his eyes clouded over with the memory. “I’d say it’s the least I could do to repay you.”

You quickly brushed off his words and without hesitation you opened the cake box, revealing the perfectly crafted dessert. The sight of the fluffy layers of cake and creamy layers of whipped icing, topped with vibrant red strawberries brought a smile to both of your faces. Hawks's eyes widened in delight, his mouth watering. "It looks incredible, Chickadee. I can't wait to taste it."

Chuckling, you retrieved a knife and started slicing the cake, carefully placing a generous slice on each plate. The sweet smell of the cake mixed with the tangy freshness of the strawberries was a heavenly combination. Meanwhile, Hawks began unpacking the fried chicken, setting it out on a large platter. The golden-brown crust and the savory aroma of the chicken and spices made your stomach growl even louder. You couldn't resist reaching out and snatching a small piece, savoring the crunchy texture and the burst of flavors.

“Oh wow,” you breathed out with a mouthful between your cheek. “This is even better than I imagined... or is it only this delicious because I didn’t have it for three days?” You both laughed as Hawks grabbed his own piece, practically moaning as he bit into the crunchy skin of the chicken leg, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“I don’t even have words,” Hawks whispered, looking at you with a dreamy expression. “This has to be the best fried chicken I ever ate, how have I never stopped at this place before?”

You smiled, winking. “It’s a hidden gem, but now you know my secret... guard it closely, number two.” Hawks laughed, saluting you with a nod as he took another bite, savoring the taste... and with that, you both dug into the feast before you, savoring each bite of the succulent chicken and indulging in the delicate flavors of the strawberry cake. The room filled with the sound of contented sighs and the occasional expression of delight as you enjoyed the meal together.

Between bites, you shared stories and laughter, finding comfort in each other's company, even in silence. The stress of your guys’ meeting slowly melting away, replaced by a warmth that came from being surrounded by good food and even better company.

As the night progressed the plates were emptied, and the cake was devoured, leaving only satisfied smiles and contented hearts.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Hawks and you had found yourself falling into a comfortable routine. It all started one evening, when Hawks soared through the darkened skies of Musutafu, his crimson wings beating rhythmically as he approached your apartment building. The sight of your balcony, adorned with twinkling lights, had become a beacon of solace for him.

Landing gracefully on the railing, Hawks peered through the glass doors looking into your living room. He could see you curled up on the couch, engrossed in a book and with a mischievous grin he tapped lightly on the glass, startling you out of your reverie. You jumped at the sudden noise, your eyes widening as you spotted the familiar sight of Hawks outside. A mixture of surprise and delight washed over your face, and you hurriedly unlocked the doors for him to enter. The chilly night air followed him in, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as his chilled feathers brushed against you.

"Hey Chickadee," Hawks greeted you with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Mind if I join you for a while?"

“Do you even have to ask at this point, Hawks,” you muttered playfully, motioning to the balcony door. “Or knock? You know I leave it unlocked for you.” Hawks only laughed, smiling his signature smile as he took off his boots, and coast, and settled down with you on the couch. Your bodies close yet comfortably distant. Conversation flowed easily between you both as you discussed your respective days, shared stories, and exchanged laughter. There was a natural chemistry between you, a connection that grew stronger with each passing encounter.

As time went on, Hawks found himself seeking solace and comfort in your presence. In you, he found a respite from the pressures of hero life, a space where he could be himself without judgment or expectation... and you cherished your time together, reveling in the opportunity to learn more about the enigmatic hero with the scarlet wings, trying to quell your growing feelings as you level yourself with the reality of him being a popular Pro Hero, and that you were just friends.

Just friends... but on clear nights, Hawks would take you on exhilarating flights through the starlit skies, the wind rushing through your hair as you soared together above the city. You would laugh and shout, feeling the thrill of freedom in each breath so high above the city. In those moments, it was as if nothing else mattered—the world below faded away, and it was just the two of you, connected by the shared experience of flight.

Back on your balcony, you would sit side by side with each other, your fingers gently intertwined as you watched the city lights sparkle below. Hawks would talk about his dreams, his aspirations, and his fears. And you would listen, your presence a comforting balm to his weary soul... he had never had such a freedom to be himself more than when he was with you. But it wasn't just the adventurous nights that bound you together. You both found joy in the simple moments as well—a cozy movie night with popcorn and blankets, cooking together in your kitchen (it was you cooking and Hawks snatching up still-hot, half-cooked pieces of food), or simply enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. You discovered shared interests together, exchanged secrets, and offered support in times of need. Through your time together, you both learned to trust, to open your hearts to one another, and to embrace the vulnerability that comes with true connection, not just friendly banter and polite half-truths.

And on this starlit evening, as Hawks stood on your balcony, his wings stretched out wide behind him, he turned to you, an unusual softness in his eyes. "Chickadee, you've become such an important part of my life," he confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of sincerity and adoration. "I never expected to find someone like you—a person who understands me, who accepts me for who I am. I'm grateful for every moment we've shared."

Touched by his words, you smiled as you bit your lower lip to keep from blurting out your own feelings, a soft blush on your face as you just nod. “Me too, Hawks, me too.”

A couple of weeks later you found yourself in a situation you never imagined, as the moon cast a gentle glow over the room as Hawks and you found yourselves wrapped in a tender embrace, seeking comfort and closeness in each other's arms. The events of the day had been overwhelming for him, and now, in the quiet solitude of the night, he sought comfort and reassurance in the presence of the sweet person he came to love.

Hawks massaged his fingers gently against your scalp, his touch soothing and filled with unspoken affection. The utter softness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, grounding you in the moment. You leaned into his warmth, feeling his steady heartbeat against your chest, syncing with the rhythm of your own as your bodies pressed against each other, limbs tangled together. His scarlet wings, usually a symbol of strength, were now tenderly draped around the two of you, creating a cocoon of safety. The soft plumage brushed against your skin, their gentle touch like a whisper of assurance that this was all truly real.

With a soft sigh, Hawks pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. "You mean everything to me, Chickadee," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability. "In a world filled with chaos and uncertainty, villains and heroes... you are my anchor, my sanctuary." You couldn’t find the time to reply before Hawks leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It was a kiss expressing a depth of emotion that mere words couldn't convey. The softness of his lips against yours ignited a fire within, warming your entire being. It was a kiss that held promises and unspoken devotion, a testament to the bond between you.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw intimacy. Time seemed to stand still, allowing you to explore the planes of each other’s bodies. Hawks’ touch almost clinical as if he were trying to memorize each bump, scar and curve to you as his mouth continued to dominate yours... Eventually, the need for air forced you to break the kiss, but the connection remained. Hawks rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.  

"I love you, Chickadee," he whispered, his voice laced with such adoration it almost made you cry.

You could only press one more soft, sweet kiss to his lips as you whispered back to him. “I love you, Hawks.”

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Untitled Fantasy WIP

What it says in the title, this is a rough draft for a piece I'm working on. I already know that there will be things changed in the final piece but I'm hoping putting a little of it into the world will be enough to motivate me to keep working.

Start (you are here!) | Next

Chapter 1

The path through the Valchill Woods is well-worn. It serves as the only connection between the main road that takes one on towards Aranorin and further towards the major trade routes that wind through the southwestern half of the country. But well-worn does not mean that it is without danger. 

Jasper moves along the path, stopping periodically to prod lightly at the wards that have been meticulously carved into trees and set into stones every few dozen feet, making note of ones that show any sign of damage in his journal. Things he will have to see to after he's settled in. The late autumn air is cool enough for his cloak to not feel sufficient without a warming charm, but he refrains, will not risk disrupting the balance of the woods before he has been properly introduced, and simply picks up his pace. He breaks off of the main path at ward thirty-two, following a thinner trail that goes into the thick forest rather than through it. The wards here are stronger, pressing against his intrusion and trying to halt his progress forward. He imagines that it's only the seal stamped into the letter in his bag that is allowing him to make his way through the woods like wading through a thick syrup. He's not surprised that his foreign presence attracts the attention of a nymph. 

"Oh, are you the new Scholar?" The voice is lilting and high and the air is immediately filled with the smell of lilies as he turns his attention to the source. This nymph is small, though he isn't sure if that's because of the changing of the seasons or if it's because she's young. Her skin is the pale silvery-gray of a poplar tree, her hair a messy halo of leaves and lilies, luminous pale green eyes set into a heart-shaped face. Beautiful, as all nymphs are, and clearly old enough to be able to uproot herself from her tree as she follows him along the path. She glides over the roots and underbrush, dancing almost on her tip-toes. He acknowledges her only with a glance before continuing on his way. "Aw, you're no fun. Promise I just want to say 'hello'. Vigil has been telling us you were coming for weeks."

He doesn't say anything. She huffs, but she doesn't leave, following him for the final thirty minutes it takes for him to reach his destination. The cabin sits in a small clearing, only thirty feet of empty grass on any side of the structure, arcanely created, he guesses, based on how perfect of a circle it is, with eight stone pillars set equidistant from each other, etched with even more intricate wards. It's a small building, modest and rustic, but he knows well enough that means nothing to people like them. He steps into the circle and feels the thick air hum again. The nymph stays on the other side, finding a pile of leaves to her liking and settling onto it, legs crossed, waiting. 

He's not even halfway to the door before it is swinging open, revealing his predecessor. He was expecting a human, not an elemental-born. The man is earthen, with skin the rich color of fresh clay, molded into the shape of a human, dark hair carefully arranged in neat dreads and tied back away from a kind, patient face. Taller than him, towering at probably around six and a half feet tall compared to his five foot ten inches, and much more muscular as well where he is thin with lean muscle that comes from travel and practicing his spellforms. 

"Hello, please come in, I have everything set up." He smiles, ushers him inside. Jasper does not speak, simply nods and steps over the threshold. Inside is a much warmer, larger interior than what he was given glimpse of from the outside. He finds himself walking into a small front room, staircase ahead of him, what appears to be a study off to the right hand side, and a living area with a roaring hearth to the left. He pauses, steps out of his muddy boots and sets them beside the other shoes at the front door, pulling down his hood as the other man seems to have spotted the nymph. 

"Thylia, you know better than to try to tempt conversation from my guests." 

"Can't blame me for wanting to meet him first." 

"I can indeed. Go back to your tree." 

"You're no fun. I hope Grasp gets you on your way out." 

"That is not very nice, I suppose I won't bring you your final offering as I go." 

"What offering?"

"You'll never know now." He says haughtily as he shuts the door and turns his attention back to him. "Right through here." He leads him over to the hearth and from the mantel he pulls down a pewter bowl, a length of twine, a silver dagger, a cutting of root, and a red candle. "And you are prepared for the responsibilities of this station?" He asks. Jasper nods. Wouldn't have come if he didn't plan on following through. 

The ceremony to change the guard of this land is not long nor complicated. The candle is lit and is left to burn until there is a sizable puddle of wax in the bowl, to which he adds a few drops of his blood from the cut he makes with the dagger across his thumb, the skin parting readily for a fresh scar. The twine is swirled through the mixture and he is given the cutting of root. He wraps it in the twine and ties eight careful knots. As the final is set into place the other man blows out the candle and immediately the syrupy feeling to the air dissipates as he becomes welcomed by the wards. 

"I mean no offense, but I had hoped for a Scholar or a Druid." 

"Well you got me." He says flatly, setting the wrapped cutting back on the mantle. 

"Yes, I can see that. Do you have a name?" And his eyes are still dragging over him. He's more than used to that. Knows that his pale skin looks like death against the stark black of his short, spiky hair, and the layers of black leather and cloth of his traveling clothes. With his hood pulled away the other man also has a good view of each grounding iron placed into his skin. A row of four little iron balls placed into his cheeks on each side starting at the very edge of his lips, the one speared high on each nostril with a thin bar linking them, six more running along each ear, two barbells in each eyebrow. There are more set across his entire body to keep his magic channels open as far as they can be while remaining grounded, but the rest are hidden beneath his clothes, save for the dark gray ball behind his teeth. 

"Discord." 

The elemental-born looks as exhausted with him as he did with the nymph. "An Order Bringer named 'Discord'?" 

"I have a healthy sense of irony. And you?" 

"Vigil outside of this home, Firmis inside of it." He pauses for a second, but Jasper does not offer his true name. "As I'm sure you were told, the previous high spirit passed on, the new one is... volatile. My skills are ill-suited to cage his moods and limit his influence." 

"What season is he?" 

"Winter." Fan-fucking-tastic. Only a few weeks before the solstice. That's not long to reinforce every ward in the woods to make sure he doesn't end up with free reign of it all. No wonder the pay for this job was so good, if he doesn't do this fast enough he's probably going to be far too dead to collect it. "The house can provide all that you need, and if you would like, I can stay and make introductions to some of the more social spirits--" 

"That's unnecessary." He replies shortly. Has far too much to do to waste at least half a day with the other man around. Can't start his work until he is the only mage tied to the earth. He sees his mouth twist into a sour little frown and doesn’t care. He's a Witch, he's honestly surprised he hadn't gotten that look as soon as he caught sight of him. 

"Very well then. May Kazara's blessings follow your work." 

"There are no gods that watch me, Scholar." The sour expression worsens and he gives a tight nod before he moves from the room. The spell he uses to gather the last of his belongings is not one he's familiar with, but within a matter of minutes he is standing with three modest bags by the front door. He takes a breath and reaches into his pocket. Vigil looks at the cutting for a moment before he lets out a long, deep breath and passes it over. As soon as Jasper's fingers close around it he sends the fire through his veins. It turns to ash in seconds. He sees a muscle in the other's jaw jump as he grits his teeth, but he says nothing. Picks up his bags and exits the house, making his own silent way back along the path Jasper had just walked. The nymph is still waiting, pesters him for the offering, but he is silent and stoic for as long as Jasper can see as he goes. 

He shuts the door. He will be up at dawn tomorrow to begin his work. For now he wants to learn the layout of his new home and start on making something to eat before he rests for the night. 

[syddsatyrn]

Shelter from the Storm (One-shot)

☆Pairing: - Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

☆Warnings: Fluff, car accident, swearing, mentions of blood, and a very worried metalhead.

☆Words: 2k

☆Summary: Crashing your car was the last thing you needed. Whatever you saw, it was unsettling to say the least. If it wasn't for Eddie "The Hero" Munson, you'd be an absolute mess.

☆Notes: I'm rewatching ST and I'm on Season 1 Ep7. Had a dream about running over a Demogorgon with my car. Enjoy a fluffy one shot!

A flash of lightning followed by a roar of thunder shook the windows of the small video store. The patter of rain on the roof was fierce and loud. It was about time for you to close up shop. You promised your coworker you'd cover them and close up the store tonight. You didn't think the rain would develop into a brutal storm. You finish putting away the returns hastily and lock the front door.

You head to the back and grab your bag when you hear another roll of thunder tearing silence into pieces. You take off out the back door, quickly locking it, and sprint to your car. You slam the door and wipe the water from your face, you're practically soaked just running to your car.

You take off your soaked jacket and set your bag in the passenger seat. You start your car and hope for some warm air from the heater. The large raindrops bang against the metal roof of your dad's black 1967 Camaro.

You try to clear the condensation on your windshield as best you could but your sweater sleeve wasn't completely cutting it. You take a deep breath and put the car in reverse and pull out of the parking lot.

You're not going to make it all the way home, not in this weather. Luckily, your boyfriend lives closer to town than you do, he wouldn't mind having you for the night if it meant your safety. You tried your best to stay between the lines on the road. Water pools into small ponds all over the concrete, you try to stay between 25-30 mph so your tires don’t slip.

Your high beams and windshield wipers can only do so much. It's nerve-wracking the way the trees would sway, branches threatening to snap at any moment. You peer through the windshield that only allows you small glances at the road.

Static abruptly boars over the radio and makes you flinch and jump in your seat. "What the fuck…" you say under your breath and turn off the stereo and quickly look back at the road. 

A tall, lanky, faceless figure stands feet from your moving vehicle only illuminated by your headlights for seconds. You immediately hit the breaks but your tires squeal and you glide across the pavement and slam into the creature. Your car continues to spin out until you hear a large "CRUNCH".

Everything goes black.

Your eyes gradually flutter open, you lift your cheek off your steering wheel and attempt to focus your vision. Shit…what happened?

You wipe the blood from your nose and hold your forehead with your palm. Your head spins and it feels like you were hit by a ton of bricks. Fuck, my car is totaled isn't it? Did I hit something?

Your windshield is shattered and there are bits of glass everywhere. You open the door and look around, there's nothing on the road from what you can see. You get out slowly and see your vehicle smashed up against a tree, the front of your car peeled back like a tuna can.

Having driven this road a million times, you were able to tell how far you are from your boyfriend's place. You look back at the road, you know you hit something, but what was it? It looked like a person, but not quite.  

The clothes you're wearing are saturated with rain and your shoes are no better. You grab your stuff and walk over to where you think the impact happened. No blood, nothing. Are you hallucinating? It doesn't make any sense and you’re not gonna stick around and figure it out.

You start walking up the road but you finally notice your knee is busted up. It causes you to limp a little but it's not unbearable. Besides, you don't have much of a choice but to keep going. Eddie's house isn't that far away, you could make it. 

The rain made it impossible to see but you trusted your gut and continued down the concrete road. Despite your nerves, you were determined to make it. You knew that if you did, Eddie would take care of you and you could put this whole night behind you. 

After about twenty minutes of walking, you see the all too familiar sign that reads "Forrest Hills Trailer Park." You breathe a sigh of relief until another bolt of lightning shattered the darkened sky. Followed by another earth-shattering rumble. You’d think you would be used to storms by now, living in Indiana. But the roaring thunder still startles you and makes you jump.

You walk up the front steps and knock on the front door of Eddie’s trailer. Shit…please don't be asleep. You wrap your arms around your chest, unable to stop shaking. You knock once more but the door swings wide open this time. A shirtless Eddie stands in the door frame and his jaw drops at the state you’re in.

“Holy shit Y/N what happened to you!? Were you hit by a bus!?” He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you inside. Eddie begins to peel the layers off of you. His eyes are full of worry as you try to collect a string of words in your head to explain why you’re here.

“I mean kinda… I totaled my car.” You answer. “I was trying to head home and something was in the road, I spun out and hit a tree.” You explain. Eddie cups your cheeks, his hands are so warm against your chilled skin.

“Jesus christ Y/N, fuck are you okay?!” His thumb brushes against your cheek, your face is swollen from the impact. He looks frantic, scared, almost like he's about to cry.

“I’d be fine if it wasn’t for that thing. Everything hurts, but I think I’m okay.” You say, trying to calm Eddie down. He grabs your wrist and leads you to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and continues to assist you in removing your wet clothes. Eddie peppers kisses all over your damp face and proceeds to hold your hand and help you step into the shower. You give him a faint smile with a “thank you”. 

“M’gonna take care of you, you’re staying here and we’ll figure out the rest in the morning.” He  instructs and you smile behind the shower curtain. You love it when he dotes on you, it's sweet that he cares so much. You definitely needed to wash away any blood and sweat stuck to your skin. Your muscles melted as the water cascaded down your body. Your mind travels back to the moment you crashed, it doesn't make any sense, you must have been tired and seeing things. There's no other explanation. It's rather terrifying the more you think about it.

“Feel a little better?” Eddie asks as he walks into the bathroom with a fresh towel, a pair of his boxers, and his favorite Dio t-shirt.

“Yes, thank you.” You turn off the shower and take Eddie’s hand again, steadying yourself as you step out. He wraps you in a green fluffy towel and kisses your forehead. He leaves you to dry off and get dressed. You’re a little wobbly when you leave the bathroom, you use the wall to steady yourself as you turn the corner into Eddie’s room.

The metal head notices immediately. His brow furrows with a slightly distressed look on his face, a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. “What happened to your leg?” He asks. Eddie is quickly at your side, you wrap your arm around his shoulder and he carefully helps you to the bed.

“I think I hurt my knee, it feels bruised.” You admit. Eddie tosses his black hoodie in your lap. You hug it against your chest for a moment, it smells just like him. He always smells like this woody cologne mixed with cigarettes and fabric softener. You slip the hoodie over your head and pull it down around your hips. After digging for about five minutes, Eddie finally locates the first aid kit buried in his closet. He opens it and finds several different types of bandages and antiseptic wipes. Eddie crouches down in front of you. 

“Show me.” He instructs and you tell him what hurts the most and where. He kisses your bruised, bandaged hand and the scrapes on your face. You turn your head slightly and capture his lips with yours. Something you have done a thousand times but it still makes your heart flutter. Eddie leans into the kiss and the world melted away for just a moment. He’s just relieved you're safe, warm, and in his arms where he can take care of you. 

“So…what made you crash? An animal?” Eddie asks as he places his hand on your knee. You lace your fingers with his and sigh. You think for a second, toying with Eddie's fingers.

“I don't know, it didn't look like an animal. It had long arms and legs, but I didn't see a face…” You trail off and Eddie moves a strand of hair away from your face.

“And you swear you hit it with your car?” He asks with an uneasy look.

“Yeah…It sure felt like I did. That's the reason I spun out and hit a tree. The rain made the road pretty slick too.” You recall as Eddie sits down beside you and motions for you to come sit in his lap. He scoops you up in his arms and holds you close.

“Were you scared?” He asks as you bury your face in his shoulder. Tears emerge and sting your eyes. His question made you realize how awful it really was. You were genuinely scared, but you did the best that you could to survive and make it to safety.

“Yeah…” You manage to answer even though it feels like your throat is going to close up. Eddie immediately notices your change in tone.

“Hey…Hey, shhh it’s okay. I’m here, I got you.” Eddie coos. He can tell this whole experience has left you extremely vulnerable and unsettled. “Sweetheart, look at me.” He requests and you wipe the tears from your eyes and return his gaze. “I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. We can figure out the details later, what matters is you, babe."

He tugs at the hoodie you're wearing. "At least you look real cute in my stuff." You smile, and Eddie looks pleased with himself. He has this ability to always put a smile on your face, even in the worst of times.

"Will you stay with me for the rest of the night?" You ask, knowing that Eddie wouldn’t ever tell you no.

"Of course sweetheart, I'm not letting you out of my sight." He replies with a cheeky grin. 

Eddie made sure you had extra blankets and he crawled into bed with you. You rest your head on his chest and eventually doze off with him. He keeps you close and you've never felt safer. Whatever that thing was, it can't get you here. Not with Eddie “The Hero” Munson by your side. 

[archivist-crow]

On this day:

ENTOMBED PTERODACTYL

On February 9, 1856, The Illustrated London News carried the sensational story of some French railroad workers who accidentally freed a live pterodactyl from a gigantic boulder of Jurassic limestone. The crew had been carving out a tunnel between the St. Dizier and Nancy rail lines when a shockingly large shape with a long sharp beak and leathery wings staggered toward them, silhouetted in the tunnel's dim light. The flying reptile opened its wings, which spanned nearly eleven feet. It flapped them briefly, gave out a dry gasping sound, and toppled at their feet, dead. Its skin was black, thick, and oily, it had talons where feet should have been, and its mouth was bursting with pointed teeth. The rock it had escaped from held a cavity containing an exact mold of the creature's form. Scientists had supposed that the last pterodactyl died 100 million years ago, but apparently the creature had been locked inside the boulder for millions of years.

In 1976, Texas, a five- to six-foot-tall bird-type animal was sighted numerous times over three months. Near San Antonio, ranch workers saw the creature standing in a stock tank. Northeast of Brownsville, two young sisters observed it near a pond. Three school teachers, startled by a huge shadow appearing on the road in front of them, saw an enormous bird with a fifteen- to twenty-foot wingspan. Near Raymondville, a man went outside to investigate flapping and whistling noises, when something grabbed at him with huge claws and ripped his shirt. People commented that the creature seemed to glide soundlessly rather than fly. Its wings, which were batlike, never flapped. The creature was identified as a Pteranodon.

Text from: Almanac of the Infamous, the Incredible, and the Ignored by Juanita Rose Violins, published by Weiser Books, 2009

[mototeamrussia]

Harley Davidson Road Glide ST CVO 2024. Отзыв https://mototeamrussia.com/type/kruizer/harley-davidson-road-glide-st-cvo-2024-otzyv-b8c200d

[lighthousesbymotorcycle]

North Coast – End of the Road

It was late June 2023. Myself, some Darksider’s brothers, and my friend Greg hit the road on a sunny Saturday morning. Greg was on his HD Road Glide, and I was riding my Indian Challenger. I had just gotten my bike back from the dealership after having some electronical sensor issues that kept putting it in to limp mode. Our destination was Bathurst, New Brunswick, where our brothers from the Darksider’s North Shore charter were hosting their 9th Annual Coastal Run. The run takes place along the North Shore coast of New Brunswick. The ride up was fast. Double lane highways in the Maritimes have little traffic, and navigating a large pack of motorcycles along them is done with ease. When the highway turns to single lane just past Shediac, New Brunswick it gets more interesting. We tend to do a lot of passing, requiring lots of concentration to do so safely.

We made it to the North Shore clubhouse about an hour and a half before kickstands up and got our run t-shirts. We chatted and hung out with our brothers and the local supporters, as more clubs from across the Maritimes began to arrive.

Around 150 bikes hit the pavement heading north to a private spot where some club and family members had a BBQ set up with their famous lobster rolls and ice-cold beverages. Ice cold beverages were very important because I remember it getting extremely hot outside. It was one of the few Saturdays in the summer of 2023 that we didn’t have rain. After the run we made our way back to the clubhouse to party the night away with our brothers and friends.

Greg and I stayed at the nearby hotel for the night. Our plan was to meet up with my brother Roller and his wife Jana in the morning and embark on a journey along Quebec’s route 138 that runs along the north coast of the gulf of the St. Lawerence to the end of the road.

The next morning the sun was gone, and the road was wet. Greg and I suited up in our rain gear and headed north to Roller and Jana’s place. They would be joining us the rest of the trip on Roller’s orange HD Road Glide. By the time we arrived the road had begun to dry up. We had a cup of coffee and relaxed in Roller’s gazebo that overlooks the bay, which has a great view of the Appalachian Mountains in the Gaspe peninsula.

Our destination for the day was Baie Comeau, Quebec. It didn’t consist of a lot of riding (less than 300KM) as we were constrained by a ferry crossing, as is a normal occurrence when traveling in Atlantic Canada. We left Rollers without our rain gear on. The road had dried up, and the weather was looking promising. We crossed into the province of Quebec and travelled north along Highway 132 through the Matapedia Valley. Usually this was a beautiful ride with the twisty roads winding along the Matapedia River through the mountain range. However, that was not the case today. Just before the rainy weather had started, Atlantic Canada suffered from one of its worst dry spells in years resulting in several forest fires. We just happened to be downwind of a few big fires raging in Northern Quebec. There wasn’t a whole lot to see but the faint outline of the mountains. With the smoke partially blocking out the sun, it gave an illusion of a cloudy overcast.

We rolled into Matane, Quebec, and loaded up on the ferry that crossed the St. Lawerence River destined for Baie Comeau. The ferry ride was about 2 hours long, costing a little over 50$ for one person and their motorcycle. Between the smoke and the fog, you couldn’t see much. The ferry itself being only a few years old was very nice, especially compared to many of the relics still in use in the Atlantic. When we arrived in Baie Comeau, miraculously the fog cleared, and the smoke lifted. We found a hotel to stay at, unloaded our gear, and off we went into the town to find the best place to eat. When we finished our well-deserved supper, we went on search for what looked to be a lookoff at the top of a large hill in the middle of town. After I led us down a bit of a goat path (A little off-roading has never deterred me…) we found ourselves at a giant cross and a lookoff that hasn’t been cleared in years.

From there we made our way back to our hotel to wind down and relax. The red lights all around the hotel reminded me a bit of the red-light district in Amsterdam, but instead of sexy women in lingerie behind the doors there were weary travellers coming and going, and fire fighters who were fighting a nearby blaze.

The next morning, we were up early packing our bikes and checking tire pressures. We had around 600KM Northeast to travel to our accommodation at the end of the pavement in a small town called Natashquan, which has a population of only around 250 people. We had a quick breakfast and set out for our first stop: the Pointe-de-Monts Lighthouse. It was about 12KM off the main road, down a narrow and bumpy side road. The lighthouse was in good shape and had a couple of cannons posted up out front.

After the lighthouse, our next stop was the town of Sept Iles. The road up until this point was mountainous, running along the coast and winding inland with lots of bridges, and even a tunnel. From Sept Iles on, the road began to flatten out, hugging the coast. The trees got smaller and smaller. We had heard a lot about the local cuisine being very good along the North Coast, so we decided to stop in Havre Saint Pierre for a late lunch. I wasn’t disappointed with a good feed of cod fish. The road became even flatter and the land more barren as we neared our final destination of the day. The quality of the pavement surprised me, I hadn’t expected it to be in such good condition. A wide road with little to no potholes or bumps, with very little traffic as well which is always a bonus.

We made it to our auberge where we would be staying the next two nights and checked in. The lady there reminded us to close our blinds as the sun rose there at 3:30AM. We were quite far north having just crossed the 50th parallel. We wanted to grab a few drinks and snacks for the evening but had noticed that the one local store was closed when we rode by. “That’s okay!” said the lady from the auberge, “I’ll call the owner and get them to open it up for you!”

We were very appreciative of this, and thanked the lady for the kind gesture heading to the store. Afterwards we were treated to another amazing meal, this time at the auberge.

The sky was clear so we thought we would catch the late-night sunset on the beach and check out the historic fishing village over 150 years old called Les Galets. It turned out the be a great evening for shooting some photos. On the way out I spoke to a couple of paramedics who were enjoying the sunset and our motorcycles. One of them had recognized my Indian Challenger off the new racing series ‘King of the Baggers’ and mentioned he had never seen one before in the area. We headed back to the auberge and after a few drinks I was ready for bed.

The next morning, we woke up to some light drizzle and a temperature around +12. After having our fill of breakfast and coffee at the auberge we suited up in our cold weather and rain gear. The destination today was the end of Route 138. About 55km east of us (50KM dirt) was a small community of about 50-60 people called Kegaska. The lady at the auberge shared with us that we were a little early. In about 2 weeks they were planning to pave the 50KM section. But right now, they were just doing grading (oh, joy…).

We left and were quickly greeted by the dirt. The light drizzle was in our favour as it kept the dust down. The start of the road was newly graded but well packed down. Soon we found the freshly graded gravel, which is like driving on a bed of marbles. We passed the grader but got stuck on the wrong side of the road by the windrow of gravel it was leaving on the centerline. The road packed down again and we were able to travel along going about 70Km/hr. We passed a bulldozer in one spot spreading more gravel. We finally reached the small village of Kegaska after about an hour.

There at the end of the road was the famous 138 FIN sign. We stopped to grab a few pictures and put our stickers up on the sign. Every year it gets so plastered with stickers the Quebec government must replace it. From there we headed out to the coast to check out an old shipwreck called Le Brion. I’d guess in another 5-10 years the earth and the sea will fully reclaim this decaying ship.

On our way out we ran into a Kegaskan local named Terry, AKA “Mr. Clean”. He was busy working on his new campground that he would soon be opening for the very short tourist season. A great guy, he was surprised to see us all the way up there on our baggers, he told us that he once had a Harley V-Rod. I found this rather unbelievable as we were 50KM from the nearest paved road and it was the ONLY paved road to ride aside from the small towns off it for 600KM. He said it spent most of the time in a closet in his house, and that his wife hated that. He invited us over to his home, showed us his garage which included a mint 1996 Ski-doo Elan (the last year it was ever produced), more cool memorabilia, and a plaque celebrating the purchase of his V-Rod. He showed us his lobster shack and bar as well. I wish we could have stayed longer, but some heavier rain was scheduled to start late afternoon that could turn the dirt road into a mudhole, so we were limited with time. Before we left, he called a motorcycle friend in Natashquan who could give us a hand cleaning all the dirt off our bikes when we got back.

As we made our way back my check engine light came on, and my heart sank. No f*cking way is this happening about as far away from home as possible. I still seemed to have all my power (no limp mode). I quickly flicked to the diagnostics menu. It was a code telling me the bike was running rich and the fuel correction was out of range. The gas was terrible up there, and with the aftermarket exhaust and the slow speeds on the gravel road, I couldn’t open it up like I was used to doing. Luckily it didn’t turn out to be a problem at all, and the code disappeared the next day when we got back on the pavement.

On the ride back we got lucky, the drizzle had picked up but not enough to turn the road to mud. When we came across the bulldozer it has just spread out 2 truck loads of gravel in about a 1-foot lift. 1 foot of loose gravel is almost like riding on a dry sandy beach. The bike just sort of goes where it wants to. You must keep your momentum up, don’t let off the gas, don’t break, and stay very loose and try to just ride it out. The front wheel goes where it wants, all over the place. We all made it through in one piece with no spills.

We pulled back into the auberge and were quickly greeted by Terry’s friend in a Toyota Tacoma truck. He was there to lead us down to his place where he had his hose ready, along with a wash bucket, rags, and whatever else we needed. He was even nice enough to leave his Toyota there for us, with the keys in it in case we needed to go anywhere since it was raining! The hospitality on the North Coast is truly outstanding.

The next day we packed up all our stuff and hit the road heading west. Our destination was back the way we came to Baie Comeau. We staggered our stops in different small villages for a while. Taking in some beautiful coastal scenery, waterfalls, collecting some stickers for inside our saddlebags, and of course enjoying some more local food. I think I gained 10lbs on this trip. We got back into Baie Comeau just before more heavy rain started to fall. Greg and I were going to continue down Route 138 to Quebec City the next day, but with torrential rains forecasted for the complete 600KM ride we decided to book the ferry to Matane for the following morning with Roller and Jana.

We made it all the way south to Amqui for a lunch stop at a microbrewery when the skies opened up and it started to pour. It didn’t take very long, even in our rain gear to get soaked. From there we said goodbye to Roller and Jana as they headed home.

Greg and I stayed in Bathurst, New Brunswick for the night and made the final leg of the journey home the following morning, completing our approximately 3000KM 6 day road trip. All the way to the end of the road and back again.

[silmawensgarden]

XIX-THE SUN CH.11

CH.11: Invisible onions

Fëanorians x GN Modern Reader. Warning: angsty.

Wordcount: 1,9k

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We often wish we could keep some memories forever. Though some of those memories might just turn out to be nothing but a dream, shrouded in a veil of misty blues and lilac.

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The next morning you woke up early and well rested. However despite it all, something was very much wrong. Though it was arguably the best sleep they ever had in a long time, you were not in your bed. In fact it was the fresh morning air and the ample amount of cheery birdsong in the forest that woke you today.

Sitting up to stretch, you glide your hand over the grass beside the sleeping bag. You don’t remember going out to the forest clearing last night. And especially not with the same clothes, blankets and travel bag as you did three whole weeks ago.

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You sit up quickly and frantically rub the sleep from your eyes. You stay seated in your spot for a little while longer. Staring into the vast open space before you. It should not be there. You look around the clearing and see the same poppies and wild lavender greeting you from the side lines. Everything feels strange. It’s like you’re having the absolute worst case of Déjà vu of all time. Everything is exactly the same as it was three weeks ago. Down to the very way your sleeping bag is positioned.

Now sitting fully upright you start to collect all your items back into your bag. You look through them all, and yes, even the pairs of socks you brought are the same. Readying yourself to go back to your grandfather’s home you look around the clearing once more, pinching yourself. It’s not a dream……

You look up to the sky, the sun has risen already. So that means your grandfather must be awake by now, waiting for you to return home safely to start on breakfast together.

Getting up from your spot in the forest you go to walk back to the house. Taking your time to observe the nature around you. The sky is a bright blue with minimal clouds and the sun is doing a good job at making even the early morning seem hot. A small group of rabbits hop by further down the road. One, two…. Five. Exactly the same group of rabbits. Hopping into the exact same bush.  You feel like you’re going crazy. This is so coincidental.

Finally arriving at the house you are greeted by your grandfather who is indeed already awake and drinking his usual cup of hot tea on the terrace. And in a moment he’ll say…… “Good morning y/n! Did you rest well?”he asks. There it is……. “Yes I did.” You say, your voice wavering slightly.

Walking inside the house you decide to put your bag on the sofa, you look back at it one more time, it sits there on the sofa exactly the same as it did that time. You don’t understand anything about this. Most of all, how come your grandfather is back already? And not to mention that there is not a single trace of the Fëanorians you’ve come to love. You decide to go check for physical evidence after breakfast. Caranthir made a noticeable dent into the bathroom door…..If that’s there then I’ll know that they were really here! You thought.

Making your way to the kitchen you somewhat yell out to your grandfather to ask what you’ll be making for breakfast. He says he already prepared it, it’s in the oven right now and should be done in 15 minutes.  You immediately make your way towards the oven to check what’s in it. Déjà vu crashes onto you once more like a heavy brick wall. It’s the exact same thing by design and contents. You start to feel a little sick to the stomach out of anxiety.

You sat down outside with your grandfather, he was enjoying his breakfast quite a lot. You however, barely touched it. Hardly a mouthful had been taken from the baked delight on your plate. Even the homemade cherry jam didn’t manage to wake your appetite. You were starting to lose yourself in thought.

Somewhere halfway into your spiral of anxiety your grandfather startles you by his announcement. “Y/n, I’ll be leaving the house in your care for a while.”  You stare up at him wide eyed, you were aware of this already. “Oh, okay…” you mumbled.  Your grandfather noticed that something was off about you. Yet he didn’t press you about it just yet. Taking it as a possible sign of not being awake enough yet.

“Well, I’ve been invited on a vacation by some friends. So we’ll be staying in their vacation home for 4 weeks. We’ll likely travel around as well during that time. So I’m entrusting my home to you dear y/n. You’re 19 years of age and a fine adult already. I trust you to be able to take care of it.” He said.

“Alright Grandpa. No worries. Enjoy your time in Chile! Say hi to Agustín and Filype for me.” You muttered slightly more audible this time.

“How do you know I was invited by Agustín and Filype to Chile? Did they call you?” He asked quizzically. He was starting to doubt your behaviors.  

“Uhh….. Lucky guess…? You usually spend some time with them in the summer…so…I thought it was logical.” You laughed sheepishly. You were nearly busted.  

“I suppose you are right about that.”

“When will you be leaving?” You ask. You were wondering if it would be the same as three weeks back.  He looks at his wristwatch; “In roughly 3 hours I’ll be meeting up with the group. The plane leaves in another 4 hours. So I’ll be leaving at 11:00.”

“Ah I see, that’s so early though!” You say. And also undeniably similar to three weeks back…..

It is now 11:50, your grandfather left a little while ago. And you’re currently sitting by the window enjoying a snack with some jasmine tea. The way things have been going it would mean that you have the whole day to yourself, as well as the house. Last time you went for a swim in the nearby river. It does sound tempting to you now too. But you felt no real desire to leave the house. You remembered that you wanted to search for physical evidence of their visit. So you shot up out of your chair by the window and rushed up the stairs to the bathroom.

Nearly tripping you finally arrive by the door. You inspect it carefully, searching the whole door for a dent. There was none…..

Your heart sank into your stomach. There was no dent in that door. You closed the door and walked to one of the guest rooms. You hesitantly reach towards the doorknob of the room where Amras and Amrod were staying. Opening the door fully you were met with a completely empty bedroom. Just a plain desk and a plain twin bed. No plants, no posters, no weird terrariums with tiny critters. And an empty closet too.

You ran out of their room and threw open every single door to every guestroom where they had stayed. None, none and none. Nothing left. Nothing in Celegorm’s room, nothing in Maedhros’ and Maglor’s room, and nothing in Caranthir’s and Curufin’s room. Every single room was emptier than you could remember them being even before their stay. It felt like the very souls of the rooms had left with them. And the inhabitants had evaporated together with it.

Tears were starting to prick in the corners of your eyes. Your thoughts were spiralling together on how what and why. You sat down onto the bed where Caranthir used to sleep for the last three weeks. It smelled like freshly washed cotton. Not anise. Staring at the now somehow bloodlike burgundy walls made you feel like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest. Your eyes slowly dragged from one corner of the room to another. Everything was utterly untouched. The desk where Curufin used to scribble away at all kinds of ‘subpar’ human designs was left in pristine shape. The ink that got splashed onto it was gone too. You dragged yourself over to the chair by the desk. Reminiscing that time when Curvo explained silver smithing to you. He’s a great teacher…..you managed to even remember a few things.

A sad smile creeped onto your face. You sighed deeply. You wondered if maybe he had forgotten a paper or two in the drawers. Just for the sake of having faith as small as a mustard seed. You decided to look. Slowly you opened the top drawer…..and nothing. No papers or pens left. Just bleak , hollow emptiness. As you were about to close the drawer you heard something……..rattle?

Your eyes went wide and your breath hitched. Could you have missed something? You were hoping for something even as small as the tip of the fountain pen he wrote with. Bending down to remove the whole drawer you saw something you couldn’t have dreamed of in your whole life.

Placing the drawer on top of the desk carefully, you fished out something not little short of a miracle.

Curufin’s necklace.

The very pendant he explained to you about. The silver shone brightly and the fire opal blinded you even more so with it’s light. A feeling of extreme relief flooded you. It really happened….!

You felt happy beyond compare. It was all real. But why was only Curufin’s pendant here? Where was the rest? The dent in the door was gone, the ink stains were gone and the plants that Ambarussa and Celegorm planted have disappeared. Maglor’s harp has gone and the cat you bought with Celegorm and Curufin has evaporated from existence also.

So….why did this tiny pendant remain? Could it by some strange chance have anything to do with the fact that it was made by Fëanor? Perhaps it was something like the silmarils. But a lot less spectacular. Fëanor is known to put his fëa into his works. It could be…..? You still felt doubt creep up despite it being a nice idea. It was too unlikely after all.

While you were lost in thought you lazily glanced over the pendant once more. This time you noticed something else that wasn’t right. The chain on which the pendant hung around Curvo’s neck was torn. The pendant was fine, but the chain was torn in half. As if it had been ripped off in a hurry.

You hoped that there would be some magic left in the pendant, but no matter how much you wished on it, nothing happened.

Night had fallen not too long ago and you decided to go back to your room. You felt saddened, though you found proof that it was all real ….. you wished you could’ve at least had a moment to say goodbye. It seemed you’d for now just have to make do with the happy memories you’d made with them.

You laid in bed that night with a feeling of nostalgia, holding on to the pendant for dear life. Keeping it under your pillow all night.

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[bikepackinguk]

Day Ninety-five

It's another hot and sunny day ahead! Waking this morning near Scorrier there is barely a cloud in the sky. It'll make for a sweaty day, but thankfully I don't have too far to slog to today, so the sooner I'm underway the sooner I can rest!

Up and out from the patch of trees by the A road junction, I head down the A393 to rejoin NCN Route 3 as it enters Redruth.

This early on a Sunday the streets feel practically deserted, which I'm glad for as Redruth is a very hilly town and my slow climbs uphill are unhindered by passing traffic.

After a zig-zag through town, the trail leads on to a nice path around a big hill with Carn Brea Castle and the Basset Monument standing proudly in the sunshine.

The route continues to wind its way through Brea, past many old stacks and chimneys showing the town's industrial heritage.

Onwards the path leads into the centre of Camborne, before heading through some nice leafy back lanes and back into the countryside once again.

There are a good few hills and rough road surfaces to deal with as I carry one westward, before crossing the A road and heading back down to sea level at Hayle.

I jave a beautiful stretch of riding along Copperhouse Pool, where the trail crosses over the Black Bridge and makes a lovely run down the waterside before reaching the town centre.

Departing along the southwest road, Route 3 heads off southward towards Penzance, so it's time to leave it once more as I head along the north coast.

It's a long hard climb up the hill to Carbis Bay, with the sun beating down and a haze of heat radiating off the road.

Carrying on through the heavy tourist traffic, the road finally levels and allows a glide down to some beautiful views around the bays at the famous St Ives. It is an absolutely stunning view back up the coast from here.

From St Ives it's another long hard climb out from town, following the B3306 as it heads up into the tall hills around the Cornwall AONB.

The views along the route ahead are lovely, though I'm dripping with sweat to have climbed up to see them. I'm thrown a series of steep ascents and zooming drops as the road winds its way around the hills past numerous small farming communities.

The tilled farmlands eventually give way to broad moorlands as the road tracks around the amazingly coastline here, with a few dotted villages catering to either local or tourist amenities.

I keep slogging on around the road until a steep ascent brings me up and into St Just, where some more meandering through alleyways and a tight hike down a rough footpath brings me out to YHA Land's End.

And this is my stop for now! Just a few miles away from Land's End, I last had the pleasure of stopping at this hostel many years back in 2015, and it's a nice drop of nostalgia to be at this beautiful spot once again.

I had been pondering a stop here to shower and rest a night, but a wonderful tip from the incomparable @annatrekkie means I'm checking in for a couple of nights to rest up and try and get the last of this phlegm shifted. Thank you so much lovely!

This is also essentially the end of my ride down the west coast, as when I set off once more I'll be immediately hitting Land's End and swinging east along the south coast. That's come on surprisingly quickly, how have I gotten round here already?

Time to rest up and I'll be back for some big milestones in the journey on Tuesday.

TTFN!

[sbknews]

Harley-Davidson Enthusiast Collection Introduces Fast Johnnie

High-Performance 1960s and ‘70s Muscle Cars Inspires Limited-Edition Trio of Motorcycles. Harley-Davidson celebrates muscle car culture and its racing heritage with the introduction of Fast Johnnie, the 2023 addition to the Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection of limited run bikes featuring factory-direct custom paint and graphic treatments. Executed in Celestial Blue with white racing stripes, this special Enthusiast Collection paint scheme is offered factory-installed for three 2023 Harley-Davidson models: the Low Rider® ST, the Street Glide® ST and the Road Glide® ST motorcycles, with combined production limited to no more than 2,000 models globally.

Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection models celebrate Harley-Davidson riders and are inspired by their stories and legacies. The Fast Johnnie paint scheme taps into iconic design themes featured on high-performance muscle cars and pony cars of the 1960s and 1970s – contrasting “racing” or “rally” striping over a bold base colour, and a clever or symbolic character or logo incorporated into the graphics package. Both elements served to create an obvious visual difference between the high-performance version of a car and the standard version of the same model. The Fast Johnnie character applied to the left side of the fuel tank also appears on the Harley-Davidson® Screamin’ Eagle® factory team motorcycles raced in the MotoAmerica King of the Baggers series. It was inspired by the story of a piglet named Johnnie adopted in 1920 by Harley-Davidson racer and member of the infamous “Wrecking Crew,” Ray Weishaar, which became a team mascot. The piglet often perched on a motorcycle fuel tank for a post-race victory lap and is usually cited as the source of the “Hog” moniker that to this day is often applied to anything Harley-Davidson.

“The striping graphic effect is a powerful signal to the generation that came of age during this era, and is still impactful today,” said Brad Richards, Harley-Davidson Vice President of Design and Creative Director. “The Celestial Blue base colour selected for Fast Johnnie recalls a popular tone from the muscle car era. For the graphic striping, we created a custom white colour formulated to authentically reflect the era, executed in a classic thin-wide-thin pattern on the sides and top of the motorcycle bodywork. The look is a nod to pure Americana.” On the tank and front fender “Harley-Davidson” script replaces one of the thin stripe elements. Depending on the motorcycle model, the striping is applied to the front and rear fenders, the fuel tank top and sides, the front of the fairing and the side covers and saddlebags. The Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection logo is on the rear fender.

Low Rider® ST Fast Johnnie Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection Strap down your bedroll and make a run for the border. The Harley-Davidson® Low Rider® ST model is an American V-Twin sport-touring bike for the rider who digs clean-and-lean West Coast style and craves the outrageous performance of the Milwaukee-Eight® 117 V-Twin powertrain. The Low Rider® ST model connects these riders with pure Harley-Davidson attitude. Mechanical features are identical to the 2023 Low Rider® ST model. Special Styling Features - Celestial Blue with custom white detailing - Enthusiast Collection logo on rear fender - Graphic on both sides of the fuel tank – Fast Johnnie on left, Bar & Shield on right

Street Glide® ST Fast Johnnie Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection Elevated pro-touring bagger performance and style for the rider who just can’t get enough of either. The Street Glide® ST model pairs the muscular Milwaukee-Eight® 117 powertrain with tough West Coast styling influences and new dark-and-bronze finishes topped off with Screamin’ Eagle® exhasut. Undiminished comfort and the iconic batwing fairing appeal to the traditionalist mindset. Meet the new breed of speed and style from Harley-Davidson. Mechanical features are identical to the 2023 Street Glide® ST model.

Road Glide® ST Fast Johnnie Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection The sleek Road Glide® ST model projects more menace than ever and backs it up with the street-scorching power of the Milwaukee-Eight® 117 powertrain along with Screamin’ Eagle® exhaust. West Coast styling elements and black-and-bronze finishes set this bike apart from the performance bagger crowd. Legendary comfort and the “sharknose” fixed fairing appeal to a rider who wants to make quick work of the open road. Mechanical features are identical to 2023 Road Glide® ST model. Road Glide ST and Street Glide ST Special Styling Features - Celestial Blue with custom white detailing - Screamin’ Eagle® exhaust - Enthusiast Motorcycle Collection logo on rear fender - Graphic on both sides of the fuel tank – Fast Johnnie on left, Bar & Shield on right - Harley-Davidson® Genuine Motor Parts & Accessories offers colour-matched King Tour-Pak® luggage carrier, Chopped Tour-Pak® luggage carrier, and saddlebag speaker lids.

Harley-Davidson stands for the timeless pursuit of adventure and freedom for the soul. Go to H- D.com to learn more about the complete line of 2023 Harley-Davidson Grand American Touring, Sport, Adventure Touring, Cruiser and Trike motorcycles, Harley-Davidson Certified™ pre-owned motorcycles, Harley-Davidson Genuine Motor Parts & Accessories, Harley-Davidson MotorClothes and gear, and Harley-Davidson Financial Services. For more Harley-Davidson UK news check out our dedicated page Harley-Davidson UK News or head to the official Harley-Davidson UK website www.harley-davidson.com/gb/en/index.html Read the full article

[harleysite]

Road Glide ST 117 VS Street Glide ST 117 😎🤘👌💪 #harleydavidson #harleysite #roadhlidest #streetglidest (hier: Porto Cristo, Islas Baleares, Spain) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ckn0sOOomb2/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[wetsteve3]

Gary & Kim took home their 2022 Road Glide ST in all black!

[dansnaturepictures]

07/07/2022-Lakeside and home 

I had a brilliant walk of birds at Lakeside at lunch time, getting a great view of a Blackcap at the northern end of the wooded path and between here and the path beside Concorde lake where I went next in my perimeter walk of Lakeside I got some exquisite Wren views some of my best ever hearing this bird so well too. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one. This is around the area I saw my first of the year of this bird on New Year’s Day which feels so long ago now comparing the full leaf summer scenes of today to that bare-branched winter’s day. In this area I heard the Wren and other birds well and found myself transfixed and invigorated by the song and calls of birds in this moment. I was maybe focusing on birds a little more at Lakeside today as I was doing a count of the birds for my monthly full eBird checklist here. Standouts in this for numbers were the Greylag Geese with fifty seven I counted a mixture of the adults and grown up goslings still here in big numbers, twenty nine Mallards and thirteen Woodpigeon. I got some lovely views and possibly heard well Moorhen at Lakeside at lunch time and I of course loved checking in on one of the Great Crested Grebe parents with its three chicks on Concorde lake having not seen them for a few days with work in the office and walking other routes. I also liked seeing the Herring Gull in the first picture in this photoset and the Robin in the fourth picture in this photoset as my pleasing run of bird photos continued. 

This continued at home today too with Goldfinch, House Sparrow and the Jackdaw with a few white feathers I took photos of today with Collared Dove, young Starling and Lesser Black-backed Gull seen well from home today too I took the eighth picture in this photoset of the Jackdaw. 

At Lakeside Ringlet, Meadow Brown and Small Skipper were butterflies I enjoyed seeing again with a female demoiselle seen too which was nice. 

Of note in the flower world at Lakeside was masses of melilot along the northern path I believe, not one I’d seen before this created a great burst of yellow in the landscape. I also saw I believe my first fennel of the year a nice yellow flower or it could have been wild parsnip and excitingly my first fleabane of the year in a bit of a yellow theme a flower I like seeing I took the sixth picture in this photoset of this. Purple loosestrife, nightshade, forget-me-not, great willowherb, knapweed, roses, dock, ragwort, St. John’s-wort and the poppies and others in the flower bed around the estate completed the floral highlights a real summery list I think. 

There were exciting flower moments at home as I took a picture of our first sunflower this year on the balcony which I’m happy to see. I have enjoyed sunflowers the last few years but with the symbolism of them much reflected on this year with the awful situation in Ukraine and the solidarity that can be shown with them it felt all the more powerful seeing one. And it added to the yellow theme today. Possible groundsel, scarlet pimpernel and the other flowers at home looked nice today and I had a great session on the cloudy lunch time walk of taking photos of other bright and colourful flowers on the balcony including the ones in the second picture in this photoset. As the sun emerged this evening I took a few photos like the final two in this set of buddleia and the nice green leaves of a view out the back some of a fair few photos I took from home today to enjoy the sun, the buddleia does look great in our garden and a buddleia bush visible from my room. There is some hogweed near this too and I enjoyed seeing some purple flowers and great bits of colour across the road. 

I took the third and seventh pictures in this photoset of nice views at Lakeside today which is always great to take in. It was nice to enjoy the sun going down, a lovely moon and a caddisfly on the other side of the window, with a Swift gliding over quite late on and a Magpie calling its “pica pica” call on this beautiful summer evening.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: One of my favourite birds the Great Crested Grebe, Greylag Goose, Canada Goose, Mallard, Moorhen, Black-headed Gull, Herring Gull, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blackcap, Wren, Robin, Goldfinch, House Sparrow, Starling, Swift, Ringlet, Meadow Brown, Small Skipper, Green-veined White, caddisfly, I believe and I heard Great Tit and another of my favourite birds the Green Woodpecker.