backyard shoot

you know what i love? established apocalypse aesthetics

  • leaves and flowers and trees growing out of abandoned houses and cars, smashing glass windows, invading and reclaiming the spaces humanity took from them
  • warning scrawled hastily on the sides of buildings in spraypaint or in blood; don’t come here, it’s not safe. turn away, go back. we died here. you will too.
  • notes and messages scattered across the world, addressed to people who never saw them or never lived to reply to them. rachel, we’re alive. david, don’t look for us. amy, dad got bit, please come home, we need you. kim, i love you. 
  • people broken into tiny groups. society shattered. they are past the anger, past denial, past trying to fix any of it. now there is only begrudging acceptance, and the knowledge that nothing is ever going to get better. the only thing they can do is survive.
  • a skeleton lying at the foot of a tree, flowers blooming in its ribcage. a bloodstained note in its front pocket. ‘sorry, mom’. travelers see it and barely spare a thought; such things are commonplace.
  • roaming packs of dogs and cats still wearing their collars, centuries of domestication breaking down under the need to live and to keep living
  • families born of blood and sacrifice. trading stories over campfires about who they used to be, who they might have been, what they could have become if none of this ever happened. looks of understanding when someone loses a sister, a brother, a father. it happened to me, too.
  • abandoned bedrooms combed over for supplies, but the faded posters still hanging on the walls and the useless knickknacks on the shelves tell the stories of the people who lived there years ago
  • moss covering television sets, water lapping up into backyards, tree limbs shooting up through collapsed roofs, evidence of humanity being eroded one day at a time

 [Still I Rise By Maya Angelou] ••• 

“You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, 

You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. 

Does my sassiness upset you? 

Why are you beset with gloom?

 ’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room.

 Just like moons and like suns, 

With the certainty of tides,

 Just like hopes springing high,

 Still I’ll rise.

 Did you want to see me broken?

 Bowed head and lowered eyes?

 Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

 Weakened by my soulful cries? 

Does my haughtiness offend you? 

Don’t you take it awful hard 

’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard. 

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes, 

You may kill me with your hatefulness, 

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

 Does my sexiness upset you? 

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds 

At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise 

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise 

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, 

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 

I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear 

I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 

I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 

I rise I rise I rise." 

anonymous asked:

Here's a prompt for you ! So the balloon boys are playing football/basketball at the Bakkoush's place and Sana sees them from her window so she asks if she can join and then Yousef is happy because he knows that's Sana making a move towards him and Elias is smiling because he sees that his best friend and sister are finally alright and the boys just talk about how great it was to see Even and make peace and how much they've missed him and that Sana's friends are just amazing and she's lucky

Hey!!

I hope you don’t mind but I’ve changed it a little bit in order to repeat certain scene…you’ll understand it once you read it

Hope you like it though :D 

This is set today Saturday and after 4x08

———————x——————–

“Guys, let’s go outside and I don’t know play basketball or something, we’ve been here for hours” Yousef told his friends

They were in the living room at the Bakkoush’s. They had been talking about filming their next Hei Briskeby video but now they were just lying on the couches and talking about random things.

“Why? We’re here chilling” Adam said yawning

“It’s a nice day outside, we can chill in the backyard” Yousef argued

“Look Yousef if you want to see if my sister is there just go by yourself, we’ll stay here” Elias said

Yousef opened his eyes in surprise, he didn’t expect Elias to see right through him that way. Was he really being that obvious?

“What? That’s not why…why would I…I don’t know what you’re talking about” Yousef stuttered

“Bro, we all saw you yesterday, you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other” Elias said shaking his head

“Yeah, you were way too obvious” Mutta added

“I saw it too but I thought you were with Noora” Mikael said frowning

“Noora? No, there’s nothing between us” Yousef clarified

“But then why did you meet her? Mikael and I saw you” Adam said

“I’d like to hear an explanation for that to be honest, why were you flirting with my sister and then meeting another girl the next day?” Elias asked protectively.

“I met Noora because…”

“Because?” Elias insisted

Yousef took a deep breath, once he’d say those words there would be a never ending teasing.

“I met Noora because I needed advice on Sana” he blurted out way too quickly.

There was a silence for a few seconds until the four boys burst in laughs. Yousef closed his eyes and shook his head waiting for them to be finished

“Aww look at our boy Yousef, he’s in looooove” Adam said putting his arm around him

“I’m hurt you asked Noora for advice instead of me, bro, I thought I was your best friend” Elias said as he wiped away the tears he had got from laughing

“Whatever” Yousef said shoving off Adam’s arm and standing up “I’m out of here”

“Tell my sister I say hi!” he heard Elias saying as he left the living room.

 -x-

He bounced the ball he had found on the backyard and shoot but he didn’t score. Instead the ball hit the basket and passed by him. He sighed and turned around ready to go look for it but he froze when he saw her standing there, ball in hands. He felt his heart beating fast on his chest, his hands sweating, this was giving him flashbacks from two Saturdays ago, when he was the one with the ball on his hands and she was the surprised one.

“Hi” he managed to say

“Hi” She said passing the ball from one hand to another

“Are you going to pass me the ball?” he asked

He saw her looking at her side for a moment as if she was considering what words to use.

“Come and get it” she said smirking

So he wasn’t the only one with Saturday flashbacks then, she was clearly quoting him. He decided to follow her game

“Seriously, I’m not kidding pass me the ball” he tried to keep a straight face but how could he when Sana Bakkoush was standing in front of him smiling?.

“Seriously, I’m not kidding come and…” she made a paused and grinned at him slyly. “Nah…forget it…am I 12 or what?”

She looked at him and bit her lip waiting for his reaction. He blinked several times and opened his mouth slightly trying to figure out if it was a coincidence or if she was actually quoting one of his texts with Noora. She couldn’t know…could she?

Seeing that he was still processing her words, she started to walk towards him bouncing the ball. When only one step kept them apart she smiled at him and dodged him shooting the ball and scoring.

“1-0 Acar” she said throwing the ball at him

He grabbed it and paused for a moment to look at her. She was smiling widely at him, maybe she did know about the texts.

“Game on” he said grinning

-x-

“Are we interrupting?”

Both Sana and Yousef turned around and saw the boys standing a few meters from them. They had been playing basketball for almost an hour now.

“Uh…” Yousef started but was soon interrupted by Sana

“Yes, you are. But it’s okay, I wanted to take a break anyway, you can join us” she said leading the way to the grass where she sat.

The boys followed her and sat forming a circle. Yousef sat right in front of Sana with Adam and Mikael in one side and Mutta and Elias in the other.

“So, did you enjoy yourselves yesterday?” she asked the boys

“Yeah, your friends are really cool” Elias said

“That guy Eskild is the best” Adam said

“I met him when I stayed at Noora’s and he was…well, kind of weird but really funny” Elias nodded

“Well, I know for a fact that he liked you” Sana said chuckling

“Ohhhh, Elias you’re a heartbreaker” Mutta teased him, soon joined by the rest of the boys.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I like Noora better” Elias said rolling his eyes

“You have competition now that William is back, brother” Sana said

“What’s the deal with them anyway?” he asked

“Long story…but hey…how were things with…Even?” Sana asked hesitantly. “You looked okay yesterday”

“They’re great” Adam said nodding

“Yeah, we talked about everything and things are cool” Elias added

“And Isak and his friends are really nice. They apologized we apologized and everything is chill now” Mikael said

Sana smiled at them happily

“I’m really glad to hear that, he really missed you guys”

“We missed him too” Yousef said

“So what about you, sis? Did you have fun yesterday?”

“Oh yes, I danced with my friends, I sang, I…I actually had a very interesting conversation with Noora.” She said directing her eyes straight at Yousef.

He looked at her, she had an amused smile on her face. Yousef laughed awkwardly and blushed. She knew, she definitely knew.

————————————x———————-

So second fic of the day done!

I’ll try to write another one set on Monday before the day ends :)

Hope you’ve liked this one

Thank you so much for reading!!♥♥♥

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

—-

Still I Rise

Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

—-

Graphic - Kevin Sloan

Star-crossed lovers

ANON REQUESTED: Hello! Could you write a one shot with jon snow please? Where the reader is the daughter of the winterfell maid and when she dies Nedd gets y/n to care, she grows along with the Starks and gets very close to them, y/n and jon end up falling in love but jon leaves for castle black and she stays “Depressive”, like, she don’t smile anymore. After the war between jon and ramsey they meet again and you can make a super fluffy final, please? i just found you blog and i love it ❤️

Jon Snow x fem!Reader

Words: 1712
Notes: Y/N = your name; f/c = favorite color.


Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn had always been kind to your family, especially in the rough times they supported your parents in every possible way. Your house was not important like house Stark, but it was respected and your castle led over rich domains. Sadly, you seemed to be born under a bad sign as the first years of your life were scarred by tragedies: first, your land started to dry out and the crops had been poor; shortly afterwards you father fell ill and even maester Luwin couldn’t do anything to save him. As a widow who was no longer of marriageable age, with nothing but unfertile lands for dowry, your mother accepted lady Catelyn’s offer to stay in Winterfell and she became one of her maids; anyway, a few months later, she died too, leaving you alone. That was when Eddard and Catelyn Stark decided to take care of you, welcoming you in their castle as their own child.

You were tutored by septa Mordane with Sansa, but you also liked to play with Robb and Jon with wooden swords and mud in the courtyard. Those days of your childhood, spent with the Stark children who were roughly the same age as you, were quite happy indeed. The three of you got along fine, but when Theon arrived in Winterfell, Robb unattached himself a little from Jon and you, bonding with the Greyjoy as they were brothers. Theon, moreover, seemed to despise Jon: they were always quarreling, dragging you and Robb in, and that regularly resulted in fistfights and punishments for everyone.

So, in a way or another, you grew up with the Starks and became a pretty, young northerner lady. To return the kindness of their parents, you took care of Bran, Rickon and Arya, especially Arya, and because of it you often ended up with her and Jon in the backyard shooting arrows at a wooden target, just like that day.

Arya stood in front of the both of you, stretching the bowstring and taking aim; you seated on the low wall just ten feet further, humming and kicking the air, while Jon leant against the bricks right next to you.

– Are those new shoes? – he asked suddenly.

You looked at him at first and then you lowered your eyes to the f/c slippers and nodded.

– Such attention to detail – you kidded stealing one of his rare smiles.

– Just thought they were pretty.

– I agree, – you stated clicking the shoes’ tips, – that Greyjoy can be a prick, but when it comes to this kind of things he really knows his stuff.

– Theon? – Jon asked with wide eyes.

– A-Aye… – you stuttered timidly noticing his gaze souring.

At that moment, Arya yelled from across the yard, – It would be nice if my teachers looked at me hitting the bull’s eye! –, and she unstuck the arrow from the target.

– Well done! – Jon shouted back, then he left without saying more or even giving you the time of day.

You gave a quick and worried look to the little girl, waved her a short bye, and followed him inside.

– Why are you angry? What did I say? – you exclaimed walking briskly at his back. At those words, he stopped and turned to face you.

– Are you serious, Y/n? Are you really taking presents from Theon?

– Is that the problem? Theon buying me a pair of shoes?

You didn’t expect a reaction like that, but the look he had on his face was quite troubled. You sighed, searching for the right words to explain him the situation.

– He bought me a new pair of shoes because he ruined my old ones making me falling in the muck, two days ago.

Jon’s frown soothed a little, but not enough. You groaned and took one of your feet.

– Y/n…? – he said confused watching as you put off the slippers. You then pounded them on his chest.

– Here. Take them, Jon.

The two of you remained quiet and so close you could feel your breaths on the skin. Your lips were just few inches apart. That day, with your new shoes pressed on his chest, bare feet on the cold stone floor, you gave your first kiss to the Stark bastard Jon.

Because of Lady Catelyn opinion about him and because you felt so in debt to her, you and Jon agreed to keep your love affair a secret for just you and him two. Even if you found it hard not to sink your fingers in his hair when he was seating beside you at the dinner table, or not to rest your head on his shoulder when you were watching Arya and Bran practicing, you held on for the sake of your love. Jon was struggling too for the same identical reasons, not to mention the great effort he had to make to stay calm every time Robb, or worse Theon, got too close to you. Besides, you were the only good thing happened to him in a whole life and the only thought that helped him getting through Lady Catelyn bitterness day after day. He didn’t talk to you about it, he didn’t want to be a burden or made you sad, but he could not consider Winterfell his home anymore, and the night he heard by mistake Lord Stark and his wife discussing about a possible suitor for you from the riverlands, he made his decision, alone.

The night of the celebration in honor of the royal family’s arrival, when you joined him outside in the cold night air, you felt something was wrong. Then Jon stretched out a hand and took you by the wrist, keeping you close to him. Resting his forehead on yours he told he was leaving for the Wall and you knew deep down inside there was nothing you could do to make him stay: if you forced him to do that, he would eventually hate you too. So, the next day you let him go away with his uncle; when his figure disappeared over the distance, he took all your love, joy and laughs away with him. No one never heard your laugh once since that farewell.

There is not much to tell about the following years: you spent your days out of apathy, sharing fake smile cold as the north winds. During the Ironborns’ possession of Winterfell, you helped Bran and Rickon to escape, but were not able to run away with them; free or caged, you had nothing to lose anyway.

Speaking about Ramsey Bolton, the things were different. Under his captivity, you really were frightened. You saw what he did with Theon and what your poor childhood friend had become because of his twisted mind. Twice you implored the bastard to have mercy, and twice his men beat you senseless; by the time you restored consciousness, you found yourself in the courtyard, with rain and blood all over your dress, hands and face. Servants had orders to ignore you, on pain of death. After that, Ramsay ordered you to serve as a kitchen maid, and so you did. Once Sansa came back and became his wife, he humiliated you in front of her more than one occasion, dressing you with rags, keeping you locked up in the kennels for the night, or cutting your hair short with a knife in the middle of the hall threatening to skin you.

It was an endless nightmare.

Everything that happened after Theon and Sansa ran away was fast and terrifying. In a blink of an eye, Rickon was brought to Ramsey and a second later Winterfell was at war carrying the red flayed man banners. And when, in the silence of the castle walls, the sound of the distant battlefield was overcome by the main gate blown to pieces, your heart started to beat in your chest again: Jon was standing there, strong and alive, and he was defeating Ramsey who now laid exhausted on the ground. Every punch hit the Bolton’s face you took a step towards Jon, until his eyes finally met yours.

Jon closed the door behind his back as you stood still ahead and never once did he averted his gaze from yours. Neither of you had said a word yet, but your fingers were tenderly caressing the palm of his hand, sensing the earthy and bloody smell from all his body. Just like he did years before, he took you by the wrist and held you against his chest, embracing your bruised body in his sored arms.

– I never should have left – he said in a hoarse whisper.

The tightness in your throat cut off your breath and you started to sob softly.

– I never should’ve let you go! – you cried out holding Jon as hard as you could.

You both remained there in each other’s arms, without paying attention to the flow of time. Tears were falling quietly down the cheeks and hands were firmly gripping fabric and leather. Only when your heartbeats were back to their calm normal rate, Jon pushes a little away from you; even so, he did not let go of you.

– I’m afraid I’ve soiled your hair – he smiled looking at the hair that was falling on your forehead, now a little muddy. You giggled, sniffling and drying the trickles on his face with your thumbs.

– Don’t worry, Jon, it wasn’t my best hairdo anyway – you kidded gesturing to your short locks. Then he rested his head against yours and closed his eyes.

– You still look ravishing, Y/n – he said softly, – You can’t imagine how amazing it is to see your face again, after being all these years away.

You raised your chin and laid a gentle kiss on his lips being careful not to touch any bruise or cut the battle left on his skin.

– I was rather surprised to see your hair up… – but you were not able to go on because, in the heat of passion, Jon wrapped you up in his strong arms and deepened the kiss you both longed for so long. You’d never divide again, and now you knew that, after all, you were not star-crossed lovers, because that kiss was just the first of many to come.

In honor of International Women's Day I'd like to present you with the poem "Still I Rise"by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

Guide: Archery

Disclaimer: I have been practicing archery since I was eight and became really involved with the sport / hobby since turning eighteen; despite my experience, I am by no means an actual expert but I do know a considerable amount and am capable of answering any and every question you all may have!

  • Types of Bows: recurve, long / flat / traditional, compound, crossbow, pistol crossbow, war, mongolian, takedown, priminitive, composite
  • Types of Archery: traditional, competitive, field, target, hunting, 3D, military
  • Types of Arrows: aluminum, carbon, fiberglass, wooden ( traditional ), bolts ( crossbow )
    • Types of Fletchings: straight, helical, flu-flu. Material: feather, plastic
    • Types of Points: target, bullet, blunt, field, judo, fish, broadhead, fixed blade, mechanical blade, small game, bludgeon ( stump ). Medieval: bodkin, war, crescent leaf, swallowtail, hunting. Some are push-ins and others are screw-ins, the material tips are made out of can also vary: plastic, aluminum, stone, flint, carbon, etc…
    • Types of Nocks: push/press-in, pin, overnock, convential. For crossbows, the nocks will be different as the arrow sits differently (such as: flat, capture, omni-nock, and half moon)
  • Types of Draws: mediterranean ( most common ), mongolian, pinch
  • Types of Quivers: hip, back, side, pocket, bow
  • Types of Gear: shooting gloves, shooting tabs, arm guard, chest guard, quivers, silencers, wrist sling, bow sling, finger sling
  • Types of Stances: square, open, closed

Anatomy of a Bow generally consists of their limbs, riser, bow string, grip / handle, ( arrow ) rest, and nocking point. Additional features ( mostly with compound and competitive archery ) also include: sight, stabilizer, long rod, side rod, limb bolt, clicker, shelf. Additionally, there are two sides to a bow ( a front and back ), the outer portion — or the part that faces away from you when you aim — is called the back and the inner portion is called the belly

Anatomy of a String: Sometimes, with some strings you will see three points of the string with different colours at the ends of the limbs and at the center, these are called servings. Top, bottom, and center.

Anatomy of an Arrow: Point ( tip / insert ), shaft, crest, fletching, nock

Terminology:

  • Anchor Point — A consistent part on the face where the draw hand comes back to.
  • Cant — This is a bow that is being tilted to one side or another, more commonly used by hunters.
  • Dry Fire — NEVER do this to your bows, this is VERY harmful to the bow and decreases longevity. A dry fire is when you pull the string back WITHOUT an arrow nocked then release.
  • Sky Draw — This is illegal and incredibly dangerous, don’t do this. This is the act of aiming your bow towards the sky and releasing. Do not pull a Katniss Everdeen. It’s not worth it. Only do this in places in a wide open and empty field or somewhere it is at least permitted.
  • Index Feather / Vane — There are commonly three fletchings to an arrow with two of three being one colour; the one that is the odd one out is called the index. This should be facing out / away from the bow’s arrow rest.
  • Nock — Commonly used and confused for notch ( similar to blood spatter vs blood splatter ). This is the slot at the end of an arrow; there is also an accompanying point on the string itself where the arrow sits on top of for a consistent level of shooting. Additionally, on some arrows, there is a nock nodule that typically lines up with the index feather ( this is used to easily nock an arrow into place without having to look down mid-aim or shooting, so typically hunting ).
  • Overdraw — The act of using a shorter bow compared to draw length, thus putting an overload of pressure on the limbs. It can also mean using a shorter arrow than meant to be used with draw length.
  • Poundage ( # ) — A bow’s weight at full draw. For instance, while the poundage of a bow says forty#, the bow isn’t actually going to weigh that much ( bows, in contrast, are actually really light ). 
    • Draw Weight — I see this used interchangeably with poundage but there really isn’t such a thing as a draw weight? Or, at least, it doesn’t have a specific function that I am aware of. 
  • Draw Length — This is the length of how far you can pull the string back to your anchor point; the length typically is about the half of your arm span from middle fingertip to middle fingertip. Measured in inches ( “ ).
  • Bow Length — The length of the bow unstrung from limb tip to limb tip.
  • Bow Arm / Hand — The hand that commonly grips the handle.
  • Dominant Eye / Hand — The hand that pulls on the string; and the eye that more accurately sees the target. Sometimes, the dominant eye and hand are not on the same side of the body but there are ways to get around this!
  • Spine Flexibility — When getting new arrows, it’s important to test the spine for any cracking sounds. If an arrow does that, you do not want to use it. Also checking for arrow hardness. 
  • Archer’s Paradox — The arrow flexing as it leaves the bow. Also, an arrow arches, it doesn’t go straight out like how a bullet might. 
  • Followthrough — Holding your posture / position after letting go of the string to when the arrow hits the target.

Other Information:

The correct way to draw / pull a bow is by using back muscles rather than your arms ( arms are used too but not as majorly as the back ), this helps lessens fatigue! And allows you to use the maximum poundage. In saying that, bows are not the same from person to person; for example, because I use a longbow ( 48″ ) and my arm span is shorter, even though my bow is 40#, I am actually drawing 35#. And unless you’re using a primitive bow or a bow that has a versatile grip, bows are specifically made to be used by one hand or the other ( so left or right ). And just like all bows aren’t the same from person to person, all arrows aren’t the same and don’t necessarily work with every bow, especially indoors versus outdoors, grain, shaft thickness / hardness, tip, weight, etc…

When aiming, it’s important to keep in mind: direction and force of wind, height of target in comparison to you ( is it higher or lower ), indoors vs outdoors, stable or moving target, terrain, distance, etc…

The best way to build up stamina and strength is to consistently do muscle strength exercises, practice with the bow often. I also recommend holding the string back for thirty seconds to a minute at least three times in a day.

There is A LOT of muscle memory involved! And like overtime if you don’t exercise or ride a bike, getting back into the sport can take a readjustment to get up to par. The elbow of your bow arm should be pointed out and not down at the ground ( this is to get your elbow out of the way so that the string doesn’t slap against your forearm upon release ), your back should be straight ideally, and your should have your weight evenly resting on your hips ( not shifted ).

Do NOT use wooden arrows with compound bows. It will more than likely explode in your face and cause bodily injury. Additionally try to use the right arrow with the right bow and bow poundage; it’s like using a gun, you wouldn’t overload it with ammunition it’s not meant to shoot, so don’t do that to your bows. Also, traditional and recurve bows tend to be more forgiving than compound bows because of the difference in anatomy; compound bows have wheels attached to the limbs and warping or twisting the string at all while pulling it back can cause the string to detach from the railing ( but in general, avoid twisting your hand, wrist or forearm as you draw back the string ).

If a bow creaks or makes any kind of sound while you draw it back, do not use that bow. Same with an arrow. It’s safer to avoid injury.

Do not fire a bow with anyone or anything in your peripheral or around the target. Be very aware of your surroundings.

War bows have the highest poundage, that I am aware of, that goes up to 180# and are made of a different wood. These are incredibly powerful and dangerous weapons, so I don’t recommend a war bow to shoot in your basic backyard unless you have a really great stopping tool / target. War bows also take the longest to train for and can’t just be used by anyone right off the bat compared to modern bows, because the heavier the poundage, the more back and arm muscle needed; so strength needed will be needed for this ( and this is why archers from medieval periods who used these bows were documented as to having thicker arm bones because they trained in their youth as to use such a bow ).

If you can, try to practice at archery ranges. Hunting with a bow requires a license; please check your city / state laws regarding archery and its restrictions ( some don’t allow backyard shooting ).

Lastly, bows ARE weapons. I know they are treated very much like toys but they are not! Even the toy bows that you see at medieval fairs and in stores, those are still dangerous. Actual bows should be taken seriously; do not have an arrow nock and at full draw while you haphazardly aim the bow in jest at your group of friends, claiming to be the next Legolas or Katniss. That is the quickest way of hurting someone, don’t do it. In saying that, television and all other mediums of entertainment are not wholly accurate depictions of archery; some of the moves they do are highly ridiculous and unrealistic ( Hawkeye, Arrow, THG, LOTR, etc… ). While there are good depictions out there and some decent moments, they should not be your basis of instruction. It’s of course okay to take inspiration from these characters but don’t treat what they do as fact and law.

Today is the final blackout of 2016 and I thought I should use this time to express things I have learned at 22 about being black, womxn and vulnerable:

1. Men lie. Men will lie to you in order to gain what they need and that falls under financial gain, sexual gain or even being an emotional crutch but, that does not define your worthiness of being kept. It just means the man you’re dealing with is swollen with imperfections and fears he is without courage to confront. Ask him about his mother, ask him about his father and you will know.

2. Being black is more than just the colour of your skin. It is a mental state of mind, it is an attitude is what Steve Biko’s Black Consciousness has taught me. I have lived in Green Bay, Luzern and I am an African who comes from a continent of which I am the majority so the cultural experiences I have come across this year have been beyond exponential. My body has been sexualized and fetishised for its small waist and robust buttocks features that, have been of descendant - direct in fact of Saartjie Baartman also known as Venus Hottentot was abducted and taken to the west from South Africa, a land from which I am from. In reading her story and many others I realised that the black narrative is about suffering, synonymous with overcoming.

3. Donald Trump and the Kardashians are one in the same to me. Both profit off of the backs of blk people, both marginilize and demonize blk womxn. America has begun to digress but, only because America never confronted a truth and reconciliation phase with slavery, with the abduction of West Africans coming to America therefore the existence of the black body has always been of consumption for the white man - be it labour, be it sex, be it profit, be it culture, be it our men. 

4. Part of being a black womxn is realizing that you are the bottom of the social pyramid simply for being; woman first and black second. Because this society that exists beyond continents deeply entrenched in the toxicity of mysogyny, patriarchy and racist mess does not view the black womxn as human. We are degraded, raped, abused and all of these happenings are justified. That’s the scary factor - everyone assumes that they have entitlement over the blk womxn except for the blk womxn.

5. From point 1 - 4 is a soul breaking realisation of what being a black woman in society has been/become over the years even centuries yet, see how we have overcome. In which I recite Maya Angelou’s Still I Rise because in the havoc and darkness of being black and woman - we really and truly are beautiful:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
l took one look at you, and knew I wanted to grow old with you.
From the moment you walked into that bar, I knew you’d never be too far. I knew I’d love you, and I didn’t know what to say, but I could already see you walking the beach on our wedding day, rose petals in the sand and a new life in our hands.
I knew we’d buy a house in the middle of nowhere, and fix it up with swingsets and nurseries for our babies who would run barefoot through the backyard, chasing fireflies and shooting stars. You’d be a mom and I’d be a dad, we’d watch them cry and love and laugh, and grow up way too fast.
I knew we’d go wherever the wind would blow, together, building memories and filling picture frames full of forevers. We’d see the good and the bad, the stupid and the sad, and we’d fight ‘til our throats hurt and make up for all it’s worth.  
We’d still be holding hands with strands of silver in our hair, working at it every day, through all the sunshine and the rain, but more in love than we could bear.
And here we are, tangled up in satin sheets, after you walked across the beach in white and we said “I do.”  
And here I am, back at day one, ready to grow old with you.
One Of Those Days..

Request: I got a request! Can I get a markiplier x lilsis reader where he finds her in a bad state just really sad and crying and helps her through it. Thanks 💕💕 - @wtfmireya

A/N: I hope that this is what you wanted! Thank for requesting this, I hope you like it☺️

Today was NOT your day. You went to school feeling so happy, but came home just absolutely miserable. Nothing particularly bad happened, it was just one of those days. You felt the weight of stress on your shoulders. On these days all you wanna do is lock yourself in your room and lay down on your bed and cry, and that’s exactly what you did when you came home from school. You walked into the front door and slammed it shut, then walked up the stairs and found your room, and then also slamming your door room shut. But, little did you know the gang was in the backyard shooting a video, but while they were setting up, they heard you slam the doors when you came in.
They all looked up immediately at each other, then toward the house. “..was that (Y/N)?” Kathryn spoke with a worried expression looking at Mark
“I think so…I’m gonna go check on her, I’ll be right back” Mark handed Tyler and Ethan the cameras he had and made his way inside the house
He went up stairs searching for your room, once he got to your door he was quiet and listened through the door
He heard muffled crying and immediately open the door
He saw you laying on your bed sobbing and shaking badly with your hands tangled with your hair
You were currently having a panic attack and Mark knows how bad you can get when you have one, he went up to you slowly and sat right next to you on the bed and rubbed your shoulder softly to comfort you
At first you jumped at the touch but calmed down and realized it was Mark
“Look at me bug, it’s just me”
You turned your body and sat up on the bed and hugged your knees, still shaking and crying but looked up at your big brother sitting next to you
He moved your hair out of your face and wiped some tears away and looked at you with comforting eyes
“What happened today hun? Talk to me” Mark said
It took you a minute, but you spoke
“..its just been one of those days and I can’t handle it, I-I’m s-sorry…” you had started crying again and thats when Mark grabbed you and hugged you
You rested your head on his shoulder and stayed there
“I understand bug, we all have these days, and they are not fun at all, but I want you to know that it’ll be okay and that I’m always here to talk, okay? And don’t apologize for this, it’s okay” he spoke softly and rubbed your shoulder and held you until you calmed back down
You guys sat there for a minute or two until you felt your anxiety go away
You sat back up and wiped your leftover tears away, and Mark said some of your favorite jokes and you both started dying laughing
“There’s that laugh!” Mark spoke while still dying of laughter, you smiled even bigger than you already were
“You wanna come out to the backyard with me? Amy, Kathryn, Ethan and Tyler are all here and they would love to see that you’re okay” Mark said looking at you for a answer
And you thought for a second but eventually said yes, Mark smiled and you guys both got up and immediately both raced down the stairs laughing
“HA! I won! You lose, loser!” you said jokingly and smiling at Mark who was still laughing and said
“You wanna fight child? Because we can fight!” He said jokingly back
You both went out into the backyard still dying of laughter and everyone was so glad to see you happy and outside with them, Mark decided to be sneaky and grab some water balloons that they were gonna use for the video and threw one at you when you were talking to Amy & Ethan about what you two were laughing about
You turned around to Mark seeing him laughing
“Oh, it’s on now!” And you chased after Mark, soon everyone joined in and was laughing and smiling and just throwing water balloons at each other
You immediately were so happy again, and dying of laughter like everyone else
And it ended to be a great day again 💕

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

—  Maya Angelou

Got a wasp nest in your backyard?  I’ll shoot it with my sniper rifle.  Sometimes the nest explodes, and sometimes I miss and hit your barbeque grill, but that’s all part of the experience.  $20 a nest

STILL I RISE

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou