I write things and it comes in slow little pieces!

Hi my name is Wesley! or Birdy. I go by He/Him pronouns and like birds but you know what else I like? The bowers gang! (I also post some of my own stuff here too) Requests {{Open}} Scenarios {{Open}} Aesthetics {{Open}} I work with Male/Neutral pronouns, most will be gender ambiguous unless requested otherwise.

[henry-booers]

Hemophobia, part 1

I used to wear my hair down as a kid, before that I would wear my hair in pigtails like I do now but never did I get a day without someone saying something about my hair. My mother loved it, doing my hair every day. Since my sister grew and started her own estate she was ecstatic to know from my young age that I actually liked having my hair long. The length was never the problem. It was just the style I liked to have them in.

“It makes you look like a girl.” “Boys don't have hair like that.” “You would look better with it down.”

“Maybe you should tell your mom not to do your hair every morning?” “You seriously don't actually like those? Right?” It was brought to my attention that at the time, boys weren't supposed to like feminine things, even as far as hair. Though a dress here and there would look really nice to me if modified a certain way. I liked wearing sweaters because they were warm, and I enjoyed those little lacy socks my dad would get me to wear for Christmas. Those were the memories I would hold onto the most. The ones where I was happy and didn't think much of my heritage. Knowing I wasn't full blooded, I came out a failure though my family still loved me all the same, still cared for me, still kept me in their arms until I was able to form sentences, which was much later than all of my siblings, who now are very wealthy in other places. I grew up what people would say normal. My childhood was natural flat teeth, no hunger, I was able to eat normal foods up until now.

Through all of the bullying, I had two friends. This boy named Sebastian and his friend I don't remember well, she was a tomboy and encouraged me to remember that I am my own person. Sebastian was very encouraging, very daring and heavily reckless. I don't mind rowdiness but he was very much borderline violent and enjoyed it as well. Though today I hear he has matured very far from that phase. He was my boulder in the rushing river of comments and feelings. I didn't mature as fast as my siblings, so for me, I was unluckily phased buy everything said to me, all from teachers and fellow classmates. Through it all he was there, speaking up for me because I was very shy, and my hearing has always been bad, so when I was waiting one week for new hearing aids, customized to my liking, he was getting into fights left and right for me just because he could hear everything they were saying. It was refreshing, knowing he would protect me even when he knew I couldn't hear him.

We grew up together, though I know one time in middle school, I had a year of my hair down, growing longer and longer and I had every impulse to put it up in pigtails but as you know middle school is not the best for people. The comments became threats, and the whispers became shouts. It got worse but this is the thing I remembered. I visited Sebastian once, we hung out in his room all day playing games and talking about stories and books that we liked and he snuck off into his mother's room and had me wait in the bathroom. He came back with two hair ties, stretching in his hands and showing them to me.

“Can I put your hair up?” “Why?” “Because its longer and I want to see it up again.” “Aren't you worried about others seeing me that way?” “I don't care about them, I only care about you.” I didn't understand it at the time but I allowed him to do it. My hair was down to my shoulder blades and he put my hair up in high pigtails, just how I liked them. He knew me too well and I’m was surprised he even remembered how I had my hair all the time. He convinced me to wear them at school, promising I wouldn't be bothered when he was around, though the pigtails didn't hide what my hair down would. I had customized hearing aids for everything I ever was a fan of in that moment. These ones happened to be hello kitty. I never really thought about it as something to be worried about until I walked into class with Sebastian and his friend on my hip, and that one kid behind us that would whisper things directly into my ear.

Though this time it wasn't whispered, he called me out in front of the class. Laughed at my hearing aids, laughed at my hair, laughed at my existence it seemed. He was loud, so my head was spinning I didn't know what was going on, I was just shutting everything out though when I was brought back the teacher was dragging Sebastian out of the door. I turned to see the boy behind me holding his bloody and broken nose, a clean break from what I could tell. Sebastian taught me about where to aim and how to hit though I've never really had the use for it. Never really will until high school.

From that day I was left alone, Sebastian would hawk over me, until he felt it was right to let me walk to my classes alone. When we moved into freshman year something felt off, though I didn't really take notice of it. So at the end of it all, me and my family hoping for something normal to come out of my life, to just be a kid going to college and getting a real degree and become a great person. It was crushed the day I found one of my canines on the floor of my room, I didn't even know it fell out. So instead of telling anyone I just kept my mouth clothes, had a surgical mask with the excuse of being sick, and or paranoid of germs. When all of my other canines fell out I became extremely insecure of my mouth and teeth. I hated the way it looked and I hated the way I smiled and how my lips would fold over them and how much I had to train myself not to DROOL all the time. The mask started to have an actual reason to be there. No one asked any questions.

Sebastian in high school wasn't close to me as he used to, I don't know what happened, I think he started hanging out with certain people and I started eating with a duo, a nerdy and friendly girl along with her best friend who was a shy and introverted boy. We never talked, just ate and walked and just, texted. We were very comfortable around each other well into junior year.

I thought maybe it was just the teeth, but just my luck, my taste for human food was gone. I started to lose weight, I was thirsty all the time downing water bottle after water bottle. I was constantly sweating and everything would itch and burn. My eyes would get blurry when I went out in the sun. I could barely sleep, and I couldn't see myself in mirrors anymore, I just saw it as me having a bad virus and I was having hallucinations but it got so bad that one day, at lunch, I don't know what happened but I blacked out.

The next day I woke up, I didn't feel sick anymore, and I didn't really know how to deal with the fact I was stiff in every part of my body yet the bed was comfortable and I enjoyed the sleep I was given. No one informed me what happened really. I was just told I passed out from lack of sleep and a butler came to pick me up. I still don't know what happened today but, all I know is that...

I'm afraid of blood.

[henry-booers]

You’re Nothing But Prey

Bea was a woman of mystery, truly one power to never be reckoned with but overall stability was never a strong suit when it came to those around her. If you craved her attention she would not give it, though if she craved yours she would take it. Don t underestimate the cute demeanor and beautifully ombre hair that cascades to her knees. This was all a rues to the real threat that hid underneath the lids of her eyes. Of course she wouldn't show it to you of all people you were just her best friend, she would never tell you anything like this, all she would do was fill your head with wonderful feelings and emotions and lies and secrets all fabricated to make you feel special but little did you know you were just a bug under her heal. You seem to be the only one who is willing to speak to her by bad proxy of another couple friends who just used you as a means to give her a new distraction for a little while.

This wasn't a very good thing, you were nothing special just something she was lubing up for later, just buttering up the toast to soften it and give it flavor for when the real meal comes along. Shes keeping you warm in her oven as she waits for ther perfect temperature to take you out. You have no idea whats going to happen to you but you can imagine she knows very well what she wants to do. Nothing nice of course. Nothing nice at all.

Here we see you walking home together, shes holding your arm close to her side, her hair tickling your body. Her smile reached her eyes, well practiced. Her teeth shone white in the evening light. You were going to sleep over at her place tonight, her parents weren't home. This was a night you knew was going to be fun, you brought makeup and everything for this occasion, she was truly an artist. The way her every step was like a dance move was enough to take your mind away from everything, and her giggles and voice was soothing and lovely to the ear. This personality was a front, of course, just something to throw you off, something to sweeten you up and distract you from the real problem. Of course, you didn't see the way she would look at you, the genuine look of hunger and excitement when staring at your neck, or maybe when you choke on a word and her eyes sparkle. Her favorite sound. She was tiny but you were tiny in personality, she could dominate you in any way other than physical appearance, which you should never have dropped your guard around her.

The door was unlocked, you walk in, hand in hand with her. You're just friends of course but that doesn't stop her in putting herself in a situation where you would take it a little far. She's beautiful, out of your league, but she doesn't seem to care. This again is all a front, something to get your hopes up, another distraction. Deception in a beautiful form, you knew this night would last forever in your all memory. She walks up to a door downstairs and says something about her room and your mind goes blank realizing that this was a moment you never thought you would get to, spending the night with her in her room alone.

She opens the door with another rusty old key, you didn't think much of it. She opens the door and stands back for you to step in and see stairs, steep not really anything to be afraid of if you just watched your step. But there you go, she gave you a little shove to help you on down. The crunch your body made when it his a certain step and the thump that it made when it hit the cement floor at the bottom. Your head spins in confusion, what just happened? The sounds you were making where wheezing and all over the place with babbles of incoherent questions and small noises that made Bea, the beautiful girl at the top of the stairs giggle and whine in a condescending tone that you didn't really recognize, you thought it was a stranger at first until her steps stopped by your head.

Her smile was much more sinister, this was to be expected, wasn't it? She asks you how you feel, you can't speak, your back and lungs burn. Of course, she says, you won't be able to say much for a while. She looks over your face for anything interesting and a pang of regret washes over her face. She shouldn't have pushed you like that! That was wrong of her! Now you're too out of it to even have a real reaction. She broke her toy too soon. Maybe you will clear your mind after a meal and a nap?

You can't say anything you just watch her walk back up the steps and some sound of a click was heard, like a beat of two things locking together. Everything is quiet down here, very cold, the floor was freezing. The boxes surrounding you and the empty center space was enough to know that no one has been living up there but her. Did she even have any parents? Was this even her house? You didn't know, but you didn't even know you were laying there for hours, bag by your side, coat splayed around your form, legs folded under your body, your arms hanging to the side and your fingers twitching in beat with the words in your mind.

[henry-booers]

Seeing You Swim || Ch. 1

CHAPTER 1 || Betrayal

I had a wonderful dream about a boy dealing with the abuse of his government when he starts to mutate when he comes of age. This is mainly a story about how he and his boyfriend met and how their relationship grew. Everything I write about them is everything I can remember from my dream.

Chapter Summary: Johnsie is a trans boy found to start mutating when he turns 18, his girlfriend doesn’t really help much and he’s taken away from his family based on lies.

From the water’s edge he was born, living by the ocean in the most magnificent tree house he had ever known and seen. He was a clever little kid up to the time he saw the man inside him to the moment they came to his home, his girlfriend by their side, and the moment his parents were reaching in desperate need to take him back as he was drugged and dragged off to the bunker all the way past the Mexico border and into a secluded military base.

He came of age, his skin started to itch one day, and when the skin started to peal he felt the hard plates beneath his nails. He was able to cover it up at first, but the rashes got worse, going up his thighs, up his shins, through his cheeks and nose. He was nowhere near healthy, he started losing weight rapidly, and his parents fed him nothing but chicken and seafood. This kept him healthy, and happy for some time and he hid the problem from friends and his girlfriend for some time. Though his girlfriend being the closest person to him, he trusted her more than anyone because she had been with him through thick and thin from the deeps of the ocean to the rocky shores of everything that has happened to him he sent her pictures of his rashes, telling her he’s fine and he’s getting better, but he didn’t think anything of it knowing how much he loved her and how much he thought she loved him and how he believed that she would never tell anyone and keep it between just them.

A couple days later, she knocked on the family’s door and he answered the door with a smile.

“Hi, Joe! I thought I should visit! You’ve been in a lot of uh- a lot of stuff has been happening so I thought I should come over and help out a bit.” He voice wavered and jumped in certain places but he didn’t catch on, he just smiled and nodded ecstatically. All he thought was how wonderful and blessed he was to have such a supportive girlfriend. He invited her in,

“Yeah, a lot has happened and I’m so sorry to get you dragged up into it I’m so glad you came over though, I’m sure mom would love to see you as well!” He closed the door and shuffled into the living room in his slippers, she followed close behind, heavily in fact like she was carrying a weight on her shoulders. “You look pale, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Just got up early to get here, you do live some time away from my place since we graduated.”

“You’re right, you really didn’t have to come over at all.”

He didn’t notice the black figures circling the house as he spoke, he was focused on pulling out a seat for his girlfriend to sit down and talk. His mother came inside from shell hunting and almost screeched excitement and surprise at the guest. Her voice was like music to his ears, and the conversation was going swimmingly about the rashes and dark grey and sparkling black scales over his nose and cheeks and some sprinkling his forehead. The smile never left his face.

A knock came from upstairs and followed by that a sound of shattering glass. His father yells from the top of the stairs to get Johnsie into a safe place. As soon as they heard this his girlfriend stood off to the side as men and women covered in black and helmets hiding their faces, guns pointed at him and his mother as they surrounded them. His girlfriend’s eyes darkened in a sea of hatred and disgust as they forced his head to the table, a dull pain ringing through his eardrums. His arms forced behind him and a sharp pain pinging through his neck to the very bone. He lets out a weak yelp and it didn’t take him long between the force to the table and the shock of it all as well as the drug to smack him into unconsciousness.

The sounds of tire against gravel were waving in any out of his mind, sometimes the tires were on pavement, then on dirt, then on gravel again. They would stop and he would hear talking outside of the vehicle. He would have been able to be more aware of he didn’t keep going under and out and under and out. He was bobbing on water his head going under every time he tried to breathe. When he finally was able to get up his body felt weak and brittle, his wrists had shrunk significantly, the chub he had was gone. How long had he been out for him to get so bad? He could practically feel the bags under his eyes. It was dark, it smelled like dirt and metal. He got up quickly in a panic, remembering his mother and fathers screams as he was taken away and knocked out. He remembered the look on his girlfriends face.

The betrayal he felt was overwhelming his mind started to lock up the gears and stop.

A voice brought him back to reality. A soft one, a well-aged one, a middle-aged woman.

“Hi sweetheart, I’m glad to see you’re finally awake, I hope you’re okay you were in pretty bad shape when they brought you in this morning.” A light was on now, it was dim but it lit up the small bunker alright. Johnsie looked around the room in confusion and bewilderment, taking everything in, which wasn’t much, there was a dresser drawer next to his bed. Another was next to the woman. She was visibly pregnant, a very clear thing he also saw in the bunker. “What’s your name darling?”

Johnsie looked at her with wide eyes, he didn’t see it but she did, how one was swimming in a pool of black and the other looked like it was battling for the eye to stay normal.

“I’m uh, I’m Johnsie. It’s spelled like uhm, John but its pronounced Joe-n.” He tore his eyes from her again, and looked to a shut door, obviously locked from the mechanics shown to him. Another was at the foot of his bed.

“That’s the bathroom darling, if you need to use It it’s always unlocked, though the door you see in there is always locked until supper time.” She smiled and watched the boy carefully with soft grey eyes. “I’m Grace, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Where am I?”

“Military bunker, we live on our own soil here, not sure where but its somewhere.” She responded, smiling. “been living here for 6 years now, still don’t know where we are exactly but it’s always a mix between hot and cold, never really an in-between.”

“6 years?” He asked

“Yes dear, I’ve been here for 6 years, some others in older bunkers in section 2 have been here for over 30.” She chuckled like it was a light joke but Johnsie was in awe at how ridiculous that sounded, being locked up away from family for over 30 years sounds like torture.

“So I was, kidnapped and, starved, and now I’m trapped in a bunker, locked, with a pregnant woman.”

“Is there a problem with me being pregnant?”

“No.” He mumbled, he obviously wasn’t in the room, his mind was running up and down the walls until he saw the window that Grace’s bed flanked. He moved without hesitation, his legs weak from the lack of nutrition but he made it with a stumble and a fall on the mattress, grace moved to the side and watched him as he pats the glass and examined the metal rungs that stood stationary to cage them in.

“good to see they care about us a little.”

“They actually do, but they don’t trust a lot of the newer mutants here, like you, the rest of us ended up some time ago gaining their trust. It took a long while but it’s nice now.”

“Well, maybe the newcomers would be a little more welcoming if they weren’t kidnapped from home, torn from their family, and abused until we got here.” He mumbled, still staring wide-eyed at the grassy lawn, and the very muddy walkways, it must have been raining for some time.

“They only do that with special cases.”

“How the fuck am I a special case?”

Grace blinked, then gave him a look of disapproval. He sighed, feeling bad.

“Sorry I’m, I’m a little on edge I didn’t have a nice greeting at all.”

“They only do that if they are reported of a dangerous mutant, are you dangerous?”

“If I was I would have done something stupid by now, I only started mutating about a month ago and I’m still getting rashes.”

Grace nodded, and looked to the window, watching as a couple soldiers lead a child to a bunker and gently lead him in. Johnsie watches as well, his eyes creasing and squinting. He noticed a new feeling in one eye and touched it lightly.

“And getting new mutations as well apparently, I feel like I’m blinking twice at once now.” He looks at his hand like he was going to find an answer there in his empty palm. There was a bathroom but he didn’t have the strength or motivation to get there.

“Are you okay?” Grace asked, concerned.

“Hungry, that’s all.” He watches her turn to the window again and her eyes widen and her hand flys to her stomach.

“Get to your bed, I can’t be seen with you awake.”

A loud bang was heard from the door, he jumped, then shuffled back to his bed as quickly as he could and took the blanket, wrapping himself up and curling up into the corner his bed was tucked into. The door slammed unlocked, he watched the gears turn and clank.

“Sleep!” Grace hissed, and Johnsie closed his eyes right as the soldiers started flooding in with loud stomps.

“Grace, You know the rules of lights on after curfew.” A man spoke, Johnsie listened closely his eyes closed and hearing silence for some time before the man spoke again. “Why is your light on Grace?”

“I’m worried about the boy sir, he’s so cold and really skinny, he woke up for a little bit but didn’t respond much, I was just making sure he was okay.” She answered, not being a complete lier.

“You could have waited until morning.”

“He shuffled a bit and I heard it, I only turned it on to make sure he was awake or not, I was going to buzz in to ask you to come see him.”

“You know the rules of those we bunk with you Grace, you don’t speak to them or care for them you leave them alone and let us take care of them, he was reported as extremely dangerous.”

“How?” “That’s none of your business, now turn off the light and go to sleep.” Grace sighed and a click was heard, “Thank you.”

Loud boots hit the stone and metal of the floor as the soldiers left but there was still a presence standing in front of the bed where Grace is.

“Can you sneak some food for the boy in here? He said he was hungry.” Johnsie was about to get up and say something but stayed still as a male in the room, a less strong voice sighed and responded quietly.

“You know that’s a risk I cant take.” He spoke, Johnsie was curious and opened his eyes, Grace looked at him with surprise and her eyes moved to the man in front of her. He looked back at the boy and sighed. “He does look really bad though.”

“I feel really bad.”

“Don’t get attitude Johnsie,” Grace warned, and Johnsie groaned, his stomach turning painfully after all the mention of food.

“Could really go for a full salmon right now though, would be greatly appreciated because I’m pretty sure I’m dying at an incredibly rapid rate.”

“Nothing in your profile says you deteriorate this fast.” The boy said, turning a bit to look at him in the dark.

“I heavily doubt that your meatheads even had the respect to talk to me first before knocking me out in front of my family.” Johnsie smiled, and the boy looked away to Grace, Grace giving him a pleading look in return.

“Fine, I’ll get something and bring it in the morning while he’s being questioned.” He left shortly after, locking the door and leaving the two in silence.

“You don’t have to be so rude to Gary darling, he’s only trying to help out, he’s the last person who deserves that attitude, he’s such a sweet boy,” Grace said softly through the dark.

“Yeah, ill believe that when I get actual food in my stomach.”

[henry-booers]

The Library

Based off of a prompt I found on Pinterest, about a demon that is a library and takes the knowledge of those it eats and makes them into books. You though become a librarian.

I took this idea and made it into twins who live within the library as the library's librarians.

Two beings, a boy, and a girl sit across from each other at a beautiful dark wood desk that circles around them. Their backs are to each other, each of them scrawling hurriedly in their books and watching as people come in and never leave. The girl turns her head to the return desk, a new stack of fresh books lay there for her to read and categorize. The boy though sees his sister come to his side of the roundabout desk huffing a huge stack of books into his range of reach and goes back to her desk scrawling titles and numbers into her book.

The boy takes his time going through each book that has a slip between each of the paper or hard backs, the tend to have learned that the paper backs are less interesting and very plain or unfortunately, a child's book. His hands skim over each title and each author and each word that is in the beginning of each book. He gets up soon after his job is finished to stack them onto a cart, and roll them to their places, each one carefully and neatly placed upon the shelves that reached the very top of the building.

They never understood why the people kept coming in, people say that the building his haunted and just keep sending people in knowing that no one returns into the outside world. They thankfully entered and never leaved. They were born here, their mother soon being consumed in return for their lives. They aren't allowed to leave but they do well here, their food in the kitchen of this building was very plentiful and very good, the beds in their rooms were soft and the chairs strewn through each corner of the library was comfortable and plush. In their opinion they were living the high life, with a small TV with all the channels in the world, a radio with every broadcast known to man, and books of peoples lives at their very fingertips. Never have they complained about how repetitive their lives are. Maybe the only bad thing that every happens is when they actually befriend someone before they get devoured but it was always nice seeing people come in. Sometimes its a sad reality when a mother and child enter and they haven't heard the rumors, because once you enter its already too late.

“My children.” A voice over the speakers spoke, deep and shaking the very walls, it was nighttime already and they hadn't even noticed. “My lovely beautiful children, the day has come to an end, finish your chores and eat, and please make sure you get some rest.”

They lifted their heads to the speakers then back to their chores. The girl finished writing and labeling, and the boy got done sticking on stickers and bar codes as well as putting them up. The books seemed to rest easy tonight, sometimes the books at certain times would get loud and hop off the shelves but tonight.

Tonight would be quiet.

[likestofightcrime]

[venomouscorrupter]

Rest In Peace, Stan The Man. ‘Nuff said.

[wadey-wilson]

me: i wanna write

someone: then… write?

me:

[alecmacdowell-deactivated201406]

do you ever get mad because there’s so much wasted potential in characters and relationships and plotlines in some shows

[ao3commentoftheday]

Fanfic authors:

[princekarkat]

art takes hours to produce and seconds to consume so dont act suprised when artists get upset when their posts only get likes and no reblogs

similarly a piece of writing that takes a few minutes to read could have weeks of work behind it… dont take creativity for granted when ur getting it for free

[paramar]

Batman -The Tailor by TerminAitor

[nightmareloki]

[crybringer]

Best comic I’ve read all day.

[siphersaysstuff]

See, stories like this would get me to read more superhero comics. ‘Cuz this is superb.

[just-shower-thoughts]

As a student , there is nothing better than finally finishing a project , then being able to close all the tabs in the browser related to that project

[henry-booers]

Would you be cool writing some light fluff about Patrick or Henry with an Australian reader? If you can't that's totally fine but maybe their S/O are a tattoo artist who's working on a flash sheet and Pat/Hen are trying to help with ideas (it's not really working but Reader appreciates the thought anyway) ♡ I love your work babe keep it up :) ♡

((AAAAAh thank you so much! I haven’t been on a lot for the main purpose of how badly I think of my writing as well as how busy I am. Thank you so much!

You were sitting at the front of your small independent shop in this tiny quiet town. Your work was very looked down upon In such a conservative place such as Derry, having such a thriving tattoo shop, just off of the kids from the schools. Which wasn’t surprising because every kid around here has issues out the ass because of how badly run this town was, especially with the police which is filled with nut jobs. The majority of your clients were edgy teens wanting a tattoo that they would most likely laser off in the future due to the terrible placement, design, and message is sent when people in their intimate lives see them naked for the first time and see the tramp stamp saying “I like the pain” with an arrow pointing to their asshole. You have had some weird and almost regrettable tattoos before but you usually are able to talk them out of their original idea and making their tattoos a little more tasteful.

So this brought you here. Your finger tapping the binder open in front of you, staring at the darkness outside then squinting your eyes at the sudden bright light of a car. You weren’t surprised to see your boys hop out of the car, walk up to the door, then banging on the door unnecessarily because you locked it. The binder open in front of you was a book you were putting together to give these dumb kids a book to look through more than them bringing in terrible anime traces and putting it in your hand. So far you had two tasteful ones, one was a sphynx cat, a witchy theme. The other a dog, since you get a lot of girls coming in wanting something cute. Your eyes stayed on the boys, now making faces as the car drove off, you cringed at the stains they were putting on your door. You smiled, then hopped off of your stool and went to unlock the door.

“Damn about time, what has you so out in space?” Henry asked, stumbling through the door with Patrick attached to his heels. Henry goes up to the counter and flips through your very empty binder, yet there were stray papers of old designs. “Putting together some examples.”

“Yeah, though I’m throwing out fresh ones.” You close the door again and lock it, once again, “It’s for the kids that come in and want a tattoo, I’m tired of being handed brandy the mouse and shit and putting a caption of ‘eat my ass’ under it.”

“The designs they bring in can’t be that bad.” Patrick scratched out, leaning over Henry’s shoulder to look at the designs as well.

“Shut the fuck up Pat, remember your first tattoo was from me and you got a 'no’ on your skin instead of a skull sucking a dog dick?” Pat glared at you over his shoulder, your eyes going to his wrist where you put on the crude 'no’.

Henry tore a paper from your binder, you give out a small “hey!” and he sits down at a stool and starts doodling. Patrick soon did the same and sat down on the other side. You sigh, shuffling up to your stool again and starting on some new designs. Soon Henry looks at you and slides the paper over with, surprisingly, really good word font designs. Patrick on the other hand.

“I’m not putting chicken with a cock for a neck in my design book Patrick stop.”

Though it was disturbingly detailed it was well designed despite the literal penis in your face right now, though the other doodles are really nice.

“Can you uh, finish the bear here, and this one as well? I’ll even trust you with my copics, I really like those and want to put them in the book.”

“Shit babe, they aren’t that good.” Pat snorted, looking over his doodles.

“They look good surprisingly,” Henry mumbled, taking his paper back and vigourously shading some black and white phrases.

“Henry let me keep the word designs as well, I love this one, I think it would look great in red.” Henry looked up at you and smirked, cocky but he kept on drawing.

With their help and wonderful imaginations and morbid humor, you got some tasteful edgy designs for your book. Luckily you almost got all of it done in one night thanks to them.

[henry-booers]

Reminder that my main is @bowers-games so if i reply to you or message you from there its because this is a secondary account rip.

[henry-booers]

Soulmates

Anon wanted soulmate AU pathen so here we go.

Summary: The only person in the world that can hurt you is your own soulmate, but you must accept your soulmate in order to feel no pain. Some people don't find these things fast enough and live a life full of pain.

Most people in this universe find their soulmates quickly for the sake of safety. The only time you ever stop hurting, the only time only one person is able to hurt you is when you finally accept your soulmate. Henry wasn't one of those fortunate people, one of those privileged people. As kids people accepted their soulmates easy, even in kindergarten parents would set p a child soulmates to avoid the obvious pain and suffering to come if they weren't. Henry got the best example of this, from people all around him, and even his own family. He was never safe, never found his soulmate, never met them, and he believed he never will. His dad even met his soulmate at a young age, and here Henry is, dealing with his old man and surviving through school.

Middle school was the worst, the bullying was non-stop, and it got to the point that when he found someone like him, he enjoyed watching his hands hurt them, he thrived on the feeling of making others feel the way he did all his life, constantly hurting, afraid of touch, afraid of people. The days where one of his victims becomes untouchable, where his punches bounce off and his hand cracks under the sheer force of his hit, he feels shame, not for hurting these people but because he now is hurting himself, again, always hurting. Henry always hurt, and as a kid in pre-school kids would call him Hurting Henry, they liked the thought of being able to hurt something when from a young age they couldn't hurt themselves, they couldn't hurt their soulmate, they couldn't hurt someone else that found a soulmate, and here comes Hurting Henry! The one who hurts! Its only human nature to want to take out the weak and break what can be broken. A good example of this, was Patrick Hockstetter, though he was like the other kids, he was like Henry as well.

Patrick Hockstetter through pre to high was a stone-cold killer, one who would kidnap dogs at night and no one could prove he did it the next day. Patrick was one who hurt, worse than Henry. Henry liked to beat people up, Patrick liked to watch people bleed. Henry never had an eye out for this kid but coming into middle school, Patrick definitely had an eye out for him. Henry met him in grade 7, they hit it off pretty well, a little too well for the comfort of teachers and other students. Patrick got Henry into skipping classes, smoking, drinking, and other ways to take of the edge. Now you may think, that this is when the hurting can stop. You are wrong, one must accept their soulmate in order to feel no pain.

High school starts, Henry and Patrick were two peas in a pod, always stuck together, always fought together, always hurt together. They caused pain and fear, without touching anyone, through high school they ruled Derry, two kids unable to cure their pain, so they take it out on anyone and anything they could get their hands on. They were destruction.

Patrick had asked out Henry, he wanted to go to prom, it was a stupid small thing and Henry being conditioned the way he was, despite his urge to say yes, he called Patrick a “dirty fag.” and cut him off. Obviously, Patrick being who he is doesn't feel pain, and doesn't let up on something he wants, but this was the first time he had felt complete rejection, and it was the most painful he had ever felt. He hated it, pain, the feeling of his heart dropping to his feet as if a monster came into his room at night, the monster called realization, and ripped his chest apart. He knew what and who Henry was to him and he was tired of Henry hurting, he wanted Henry to come home one day to school and tell him how his father's belt just bounced off, or the bottles glass shards didn't even hit him, or the punches were like pillows hitting his skin. That's all he really wanted, as disgusting as he found that, he wanted Henry to be happy, to have a soulmate, to be free of his worldly pain. So he would be persistent from that day until prom.

Henry came up to Patrick, red-faced, tired, his voice was weak and his knuckles were red and bleeding. Patrick spared him a glance, a short and curt one. Henry noticed this but didn't question it, he just stood by the taller boys side all day, until the bell rang. Patrick stood at the back door of the school, as Henry kept walking, he still didn't budge from his place. Henry noticed this of course and turned in question. Patrick stared at him expectantly, though neither said a word for what seemed like hours before Patrick broke the ice.

“So do I have to ask again or are you going to be that guy and just forget anything is going on?”

Henry stood, frozen, then looked to the ground, then back at Patrick. He turned fully, then went up to Patrick and took a deep breath.

“I'll go to prom with you.”

“It's a little late for that, prom is tonight and we both know neither of us has anything pertaining to formal wear.”

“That's what you are worried about right now?”

“Of course! Whats prom without a tux?”

Henry snorted, then cracked a smile, the first one all day. Patrick stared at him, blank, then let out a huff out his nose.

“Just go home okay? You can come over tomorrow night, we can call the boys over and have our own prom or some shit like that.”

As said, Henry went home, and the first time in years, the first time since he was born he felt lighter, more content, calm, and safe, he felt no pain. Even the broken ribs, even the cuts on his neck, the dry tears on his face from that morning seemed gone, done, lost and forgotten. Patrick felt the same, his mood lifted and his anger subsided greatly, his feelings of lust and torture were softer, not gone, but softer. He smiled to himself through the night finally at peace, both of them were now at peace and when Henry's father first tried to make a move, he just buckled and fell to the floor, knocking himself out in his drunken state.

This was the beginning of his soulmated life, finally having the real ease from hurt. He was no longer hurting, all because of Patrick. And he thought that was the dumbest shit in the world, but it was real.

[henry-booers]

Pat/Hen Soulmates--

About to be uploaded here hopefully in about an hour. I’m actually kinda happy how this is coming out so far.

[henry-booers]

Can you do a belch Huggins imagine where the reader is a photographer and they come up to them at school to ask if they can borrow his car for a photoshoot that they're doing and when they're done shooting they show belch the pictures and he's really proud of them and is really smitten by them? Thank you ❤️

You were apart of the school paper, this was your passion, and your only hobby. You loved catching people in their moment, the moments where they are at ease, the moments where they become the purest parts of themselves. The one thing you can catch the most is that point in someone’s day where they feel nothing but sweet content and bittersweet fantasy of their own passions and being themselves when they think no one is watching. You have pictures of your writer friend typing at her laptop, she had her eyes fixed on the keyboard, soft, content, and overall in pure self-ecstasy. One picture you cherish is one of your sibling, coloring in her favorite coloring book and she’s so happy and ecstatic with her new colored pencils. Though today was different than what you were used to, the school paper needed information on the mechanic’s course and they only knew one kid with the most experience and the nicest car in the town.

Reggie Huggins, or what his friends call him, Belch. He had one of the nicest cars in the school, he treats it like his firstborn and takes such good care of it. Sometimes you’ve caught him working maintenance on the machine after school. You didn’t drive quite yet, but you genuinely have a love for looking at cars and you knew a pretty one when you saw one. The type of pretty where the paint is only just chipping away and the tires have seen some miles and need a change. His car drove around him and his friends, the one thing you could use for your passion of catching the moment of someones, one true love. The thing that keeps them alive as themselves. Belch definitely took pride in his car and everything he does for it. This car had years of him and his friends, him and his family.

This was your chance to see the years of scars and memories the car has and the owner of it. Belch was outside with his gang, just chatting but made eye contact with you. You held your expensive camera nervously in front of your chest, running your fingers along the buttons. You smile kindly at the lot of them and take a deep breath before speaking.

“Hi! I’m the photographer for the school paper, I know you aren’t in the mechanics class but we are doing an article involving the class with their graduates and the changes they have made to make the class more honorable. You are the most talented and one of their early graduates and your car is a prime example of your talents, we were wondering if we could take a couple photos with you and your friends and your car.” You inform very thoroughly, the boys all look to their friend who owned the car who smiled and shrugged his shoulders. He found your forward and very open attitude cute.

“Sure, don’t mind at all, maybe she will get the fame she craves.” He responds, and Henry shrugs in agreement and Patrick grunts. Vic doesn’t care, he was flipping through a book for one of his AP classes.

“Oh shoot! I didn’t think it would be this easy! Thank you so much.” He gives a deep ‘no problem’ and gives you a time after school so you can take pictures of them riding in the car, though at the moment you could take pictures. You would circle the car, looking for the perfect spots, clicking three times in each spot for variety. Belch even helped you take a birds-eye view one by picking you up a bit to tower over the contraption. The boys all stayed silent, they usually didn’t mess with something that happened with Belch, he deserved a lot with how sweet he actually is. You didn’t know much about him but he was quiet and seemed like a very good friend to have, but he lets you get drunk at party’s and do dumb shit and only takes you home when you’re flat on your face blacked out.

After school, you took the pictures you needed and the inside was all you needed to make your day, you may even make a collage out of these pictures for the significance and the stories behind every dent and mark on the inside was one for a children book on friendship. The only people who dwell the most in this car was the boys, and you can see every bit of their friendship from when belch got this car, to getting to drive it, to getting his license. There was an old rock stuck in a crevice, Henry put it there in a  bored moment, getting his ass ripped open by Belch. Patrick had left a barbie in the back seat, and it had melted into the floor. There was a coffee stain in the front seat from Vic, on a morning that Vic had a big early project and he was running late, Belch went to pick him up and he tripped, the coffee getting all over the passenger seat. He got off simple with that because of how scattered Vic seemed to be. The more stories they told the more pictures you took. Their passion for each other wasn’t only written in their words but also their faces, their emotions, their body language all screamed love and adoration. The nostalgia was unexpected from this type of group. Henry enjoyed stories about the group itself, Belch liked speaking about Vic in particular, Patrick would speak of himself, and Vic would only agree with details and laugh loudly at good memories that were brought to him.

The next day you had worked to printing every picture you had taken in random sizes and random filters and glows and frames. You set them all out on the table. Moving to the next day, the newspaper club looking over them and using the best ones you had taken but every single picture had story, character, emotion, and you had never given any kind of presentation like this before. You got to work on a collage immediately. You carefully cut and pasted everything you could, every moment and every ounce of feeling from this simple drive onto one poster and framed it. This was special to you because you never knew this side of them until now. All you heard them to be was bullies, evil, plotting to end the world or summon the devil. These pictures showed the soft sides, Patrick made up in dark sharps but even he had a soft dull edge to his knife in these pictures. The ones with you were taken by Henry, then Patrick, Belch seemed the most relaxed, he seemed so happy and so calm in his car with all of his friends getting along and listening to the things he sees when he dreams.

One day after you made sure every inch of your project had been framed and hanged in the art room in your little corner of work. You brought Belch down to the room to show him the pictures. He had a free period so he agreed easily, actually excited at the thought of seeing his moments caught in one frame. When you led him to the collage he wasn’t expecting so much effort to be put into him and his friends. The pictures were diffidently like dreams he has had late at night, and the memories he would think back on in a daydream. It was like swimming through clear water once he got through the mud and shit he usually wallowed through in this harsh reality. You had created his fantasy, and this was more than what he expected from someone he just met. You offered him the framed piece, and he didn’t waste any time in saying yes.

He took this art home, hung it up over his work desk, and now every morning when he got up he would see these moments that made him smile, the moments that put him at ease on those particular days of harsh fog. He called you, asking if you wanted to take pictures on a night when his mother didn’t have work, so you two could just have fun and you could get more content for your art, maybe even go on a long drive out of town. You agreed in confusion but excitement, there was nothing more fun than a road trip, and you suggested he brought the boys for the trip, not because you didn’t want to be alone, but you felt the memories would be much more cherish-able if he brought everyone that he loved.

[henry-booers]

New Gang On The Block

Chapter 5: Lemon Boy pt2/Beginning of Family

Summary: Author gets grossly detailed on the relationship between Henry and the new character Birdy. Then goes into a concerning explanation of where Sixteen has been.

Knowing the stress henry is put through everyday Birdy was known to give him space much to his surprise. Though Birdy was known to get very affectionate and pushy with physical touch with their close friends. He was known to hold onto Tina's shirt as a grounding coping mechanism, clinging to her arm but this affectionate move was given to belch after some time getting to know each other. He didn't go near Patrick much but they had very intelligent and intellectual conversations when they were near each other. Henry could tell by Birdy’s body language and the way he spoke so carefully was the same as him with the boys in a calmer and safe place.

Birdy could tell the same with Henry’s body language being known to just hold his arm when he felt uncomfortable, kind of how Birdy held the hem of whatever shirt/jacket/or hoodie they were wearing in the moment of nervousness or being in an uncomfortable place. Sixteen noticed this, everyone noticed this, if he was in an uncomfortable situation his hands flew to the edge of the fabric and rubbed self-comforting circles into it, if not just squeezing it out of panic. Henry and Birdy were in the same boat but with different fish they caught, and everyone could tell.

Birdy was nice, bittersweet in a way. Everything about him put Henry on edge but seems to put everyone else at ease. Belch talked to him easily, Patrick and him never really sat together but would talk to each other when no one was listening to them, and Victor seemed to hang out with him more and more since he showed up. Henry and Birdy’s relationship though went a little beyond and in honesty was nothing they were used to. They didn't know how to relate to others with their problems when Birdy knew everything about Henry but Henry knew nothing about Birdy. They sat in mutual silence, talking was tiring and very troublesome and they both understood that. At the same time, they can't seem to figure out how to open their mouths when they are around each other. The closest thing they had to talk to each other was when Birdy would ask him if he wanted to listen to music with him and they would both just sit, sharing a pair of earbuds and silently but excitedly sharing music.

Both of them knew when the other was upset. If Henry had a deep scowl and a 40-mile stare, Birdy would sit down next to him and do his own thing as a means to help keep Henry grounded to the earth's surface more to the anger coursing through his body. When Birdy was upset, Henry would come and sit down next to him as well but would actually start a one-sided conversation, maybe how his day was going or a joke he heard or a conversation with Patrick that he had a couple days ago that he remembered. Anything to have birdy just focus on him and have them nod in response than actually talk.

Birdy was loud, louder than what he was used to, Patrick and Belch were their own type of loud but Birdy had a next level volume when it came to talking. Birdy knew his ADHD was a problem and that would always be a warning was how he got noticeably loud. He wouldn't even know his voice was raising and usually was shut in on himself if someone pointed it out. Henry had a talk about this with Tina, and she pointed out that he had only started forcing himself to be quiet at most times at the beginning of Senior year. Henry noticed this as well if they weren't in a place that Birdy felt comfortable he wouldn't speak, and when he did his face would go red and he would look sick and pale after he finished a sentence, like he was holding his breath and his nerves just went through the roof. Henry wouldn't point this out and left it alone, and usually would pick up off of the sentence the boy left on and talk for him, like how Tina or Jessica would order food for him at the diner.

The gangs that once apart came together soon enough and Henry's confused infatuation in needing to understand how Birdy ticked kept him distracted long enough to forget about his anger. Usually, his anger from home would follow him to school and he would lash out but the constant stimuli of these very eccentric and bright people would keep him above water. This came hand in hand with little Henry, the smart young boy that would give him private times to just talk and vent. He was a kid and he understood every word like he was trained to give therapy to troubled teens. Another light in his life that was too bright to even see the darkness he was in for most of his life. Though it would return the minute he stepped onto his fathers land and had to take another day with that old man.

Soon he will feel the true emotion of grief, and loss, the one thing he avoids to feel is the feeling of being out of control. Not being able to keep himself in control, at the same time as the others around him being themselves and being individuals he just needed some kind of control in everything. Its a normal human aspect is needing to be in control of something or everything just seems to fall apart.

“So you're telling me you've never gotten drunk before?” Victor snickered, elbowing Birdy as the boy laughed and nodded his head. Today was a slow day, they had gone to the home of Sixteens gang and took nest in one of the unused old barn haylofts. Birdy and Vic took a high plain on top of old dry hay, Patrick was sat in a dark corner listening and nursing a cold beer, Belch the same but he sat next to Tina, silently looking over a book with her, they had an AP class together and had a big test coming up. Henry, on the other hand, sat at the far wall, quiet, and keeping to himself. He hung on every word spoken though, he was interested but irritated for some unknown reason but everyone in the group learned to leave it alone and not ask questions for the sake of his own. “Wheres Jessica by the way? Is she inside?”

“No shes with Sixteen, taking a walk in the sewers, they have been doing that quite a lot lately.” Daniel shrugged into the hayloft and stood against a wall to the side. Henry perked up a bit at this but didn't comment.

“Yeah they come back smelling like rats but I hear that Sixteen has been doing it mainly for Jessica. Jessica apparently has a hideout down there and Sixteen helps maintenance the place.” Victor chimed in and Birdy looked at Henry, who met his eyes, then back to Daniel.

“They come back every time though so we don't really worry about them.” Daniel waves off the conversation and changes the topic, “It's almost That time of year guys!”

“HALLOWEEN!” Birdy squawked, his face lighting up at the mention.

“Hell yeah!” Vic hooted, and Belch gave a hearty laugh in response to the excitement. Henry cracked a smile.

This group of giggle fitted friends ended up being closer than expected. Henry thought on this a lot, and so did Sixteen being the leaders of these two groups they genuinely had a connection that they couldn't yet recognize. They all tolerated each other, helped each other, protected each other. The bowers gang never ever felt the need to make other connections with anyone else until these people came to the scene. Nothing could really happen to them with each other on their backs.