#Air-Conditioning Seven Hills

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls Chapter 12 part 1/2

Masterpost

Call me when you���re free!!!!!!

“Geeze,” Danny muttered. “Calm down, Jazz.” Still, he did what she said. He hefted up his backpack, waved goodbye to his shift relief, and dialed her up as he jogged down the library stairs.

“I’ve found two solutions!”

Danny winced at how cheerful his sister’s voice was. “Great!” He tried to match her enthusiasm, despite feeling like something that had been peeled off the sidewalk. He’d ended up working the morning shift on Saturday anyways. “Should I come over?”

“No.” Jazz sounded a little shifty. “I think it’s best if you don’t come over right now.”

“I’m not nuts!” her roommate was faintly audible, as was some kind of repetitive thwap. “We are getting this place fumigated and cleansed and exorcised-

Jazz must have power walked away from poor Tiffany. Her voice faded out. “Ahem.”

Danny pressed his lips together tightly and tried not to laugh. There was a brief space in the conversation where he probably should have said ‘I’m sorry that I made her think your place was haunted.’ But honestly? In a very literal sense, it had been haunted?

“Danny,” Jazz said, in her quiet scary voice, “shut up.”

He shut up even harder than he’d been shutting up before.

She continued in one of her determined tones that meant there was no point in arguing unless it was a hill he was willing to die on. “I am not going to stay in your place because it’s small and scary.”

‘You’re scarier,’ Danny thought mutinously. ‘You’re scarier than anything in my apartment.’

Aloud, he said something else. “Then where?” He did his best to communicate, dummy, via his tone. “I don’t think this is a coffee shop conversation.”

More importantly, he didn’t really have much coffee shop budget. Jazz didn’t have that much either. They were both on scholarships and part time jobs.

“Of course not,” Jazz said practically. “The main Gotham public library is a mid-point and you can rent out a room there for hour blocks. I’ll reserve it online on the way there. I’m halfway to the train station now. What’s your ETA- you just left campus, right?”

Danny looked down at his foot incredulously as he stepped off the final cement stair onto the sidewalk. How did she know that? He looked around dumbly for a know-it-all sister spy plane or something.

“I’ll get a media room from 3-4 pm, that gives you time to stop and get us drinks and snacks. I’ll pay you back, budget of 10 dollars. That sound okay?”

“Fine.” Danny sighed heavily. “Yeah, I can get to that area pretty fast.” He hung up and resigned himself to pushing through foot traffic. He was a lot closer than Jazz was at the moment. He put his head down and ignored the masses of humanity for a little more than 20 minutes of walking. The high lifted roof of the city's main library came into view over the surrounding buildings.

There was a grocery store pretty close by. Danny detoured there and got wrapped sandwiches, chips, and coffees. He hid them all in his backpack just in case the library had a no-food policy.

Then he checked his phone. Jazz had sent him a text telling him the floor and room number in the library. He also had seven missed calls from his parents. That initially freaked him out until he noticed that Dad had sent him a link to an update on the family blog with a string of ghost and wink emojis.

Yeah ok. It wasn't going to be important in the slightest. He ignored his parents.

He jogged the rest of the way to the library and then up the ramp. Danny slipped in the doors and enjoyed the rush of air conditioning. He nodded to the librarian visible from the door and then took the main stairs at an easy pace up to the fourth floor. The rented media room was a straight shot to the back. His sister was waiting to pounce when he opened the door.

“Get back, beast,” Danny said, alarmed. He held his backpack out like it would ward her away.

“Open it!” Jazz demanded.

Holy cow. Uh. He scrambled to unzip it and hold out the plastic shopping bag in offering.

“Gimme gimme, thank you,” Jazz sang and she snatched the snacks from his hands. Danny blew on his fingers pointedly as if her speed burnt his fingertips. She ignored him and unwrapped the ham and cheese at lightning speed.

Oof. Danny kept his fingers a little closer so they didn't get bitten off and side-eyed his big sister as she all but inhaled the sandwich. He popped open the chips bag and ate a couple, feeling a bit freaked out by how ravenous she was. He opened his mouth to comment and then thought better of it.

“Are those for both of us?” Jazz swallowed her sandwich and pointed at the chip bag.

Danny held his hands up and let her take it away. “Geeze,” he said, quietly. He took his own sandwich out from the bag that Jazz had abandoned and ate it at a more normal speed. By the time he'd finished Jazz was content with the chips. He cautiously reached out and fished the bag back towards him. A glance inside showed that she'd left about half.

“So!” Jazz clapped her hands like she had pretensions of being a preschool teacher.

“That body language making you friends at Arkham?” Danny jabbed. He popped a chip in his mouth and crunched down.

Jass casually flipped him off. “Yes, actually,” she said primly. “Dr. Quinn was very complimentary-”

“Before she broke out?” Danny said dryly around a mouthful of chips.

“-and I have formed meaningful clinical bonds with many other patients. But I digress.” She gave him a version of her smug face. She, as always, looked like that meme of the knife cat. “I have two solutions for you.”

[cinnahoons]

౨ৎ. 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄! - 𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖬𝖴𝖱𝖠 𝖱𝖨𝖪𝖨

CHAPTER 03. #missmovingon - written - 1.7k (masterlist)

YOU ARRIVE AT THE HYBE BUILDING A LITTLE BEFORE NOON. It’s hot; sweltering, even. Summer in Korea has never been something you’ve found all that appealing. It gets really humid here. Case in point: there’s already sweat collecting at the nape of your neck.

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth as you swing open the door, cool air conditioning sweeping over your skin in an instant. Thankfully, you haven’t sweat off any of your makeup. It’s a small victory, but all you can wish for in this cruel, cruel world. 

A nervous buzz permeates your senses. You fiddle with the sleeve of your pink tweed coat as you make your way up to the information desk.

“Hi,” you blurt, before you can find the sense to stop yourself. A woman with a shiny black bob whips her head toward you, thick black-framed glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She smiles warmly.

“Hello,” she greets, dipping her head. “How can I help you?”

“Um,” You blink nervously, a hot flush traveling down your back. “I’m the new stylist and makeup artist…for ENHYPEN.”

A look of recognition passes over the woman’s deep brown eyes, and she claps her hands together in excitement. 

“Oh, you’re Y/N?” She sounds delighted, enough that it starts to ease the knot in your stomach. You nod a little more enthusiastically at her, which only brightens her smile. “Lovely! Follow me.”

She rises from her chair, gesturing with her hand for you to tag along. Her black heels click against the flooring, and you have to skip a little to keep up with her pace as you begin to navigate down a long hallway. Her bob swishes as she turns to make sure you’re following.

“You’re going to love this, really,” she gushes, pushing her glasses up her nose. “They’re the sweetest group of boys.”

You hum in acknowledgment, offering her a little smile of your own.

“I’m sure they are. I’m excited to work with them.”

You’re fighting a very pesky and self-sabotaging urge to tell her that you already know them. You’d met them all before—two years ago, to be exact, when a bright-eyed and slightly younger version of Riki had brought you home to his dorm one day to meet them. He managed to keep you a secret from their management, but to hide you from the other members would’ve been an impossible task.

You swallow nervously.

At the end of the hallway is what appears to be a conference room. The door is large and…important-looking. There’s a little silver placard on it, and the woman flashes you an excited smile before rapping her knuckles against the wood.

There’s a pregnant pause—one in which you start contemplating whether any of this is worth it. There’s a lot on the line here, namely your dignity. You hadn’t thought that you would ever have to be face to face with Riki ever again, that that chapter of your life was over and the page had turned for good. But as fate would have it, all that separates you now is two inches of wood and a festering urge to run for the hills. You’re trying hard to remember Wonyoung’s words of encouragement when the handle turns with a click, and the door opens to reveal a tall man with shoulder-length black hair.

The woman waves at him before turning around to gesture at you.

“This is Y/N.” To you, she says: “Good luck with everything!”

You thank her, and then she’s off. Turning back to the man in the doorway, you give him a polite bow.

“Hello! I’m Y/N.” 

He smiles. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Yuki; I’m the boys’ manager. Come in, come in.” He opens the door wider, but the large meeting table is still obstructed enough that you can only see the corner. You slip inside, which is the very moment your world begins to crumble.

All seven of the members are sitting around the table, conversing idly with one another. Their heads pop up one by one.

The progression is comical. Jungwon’s jaw drops first, followed by a bug-eyed Sunoo. Heeseung and Sunghoon look like they’re two seconds away from bursting into laughter while Jay and Jake watch nervously, their eyes flickering to the left. It’s probably Riki.

Oh, god. It’s definitely too late to turn back now. You find yourself contemplating whether or not you’re a good enough actor to fake passing out of heat exhaustion. Probably not.

Your eyes slide to the left. And; it’s Riki. Of course it’s Riki.

He’s different. Where there was once a soft roundness to his cheeks, he’s now grown into his face. His lips are plush, his eyebrows neat and thick above the dark angles of his eyes. His hair is dyed black. He also looks like he’s seen a ghost.

You’re standing stick-straight in front of the table, unmoving. Yuki seems to catch onto the weird energy that’s enveloped the room, looking from you to the members. 

“What is it?” He asks.

Heeseung actually barks out a laugh.

“Isn’t that—“

“Our old friend,” Jungwon interrupts. He’s managed to wipe the shock off his face, instead shooting Heeseung an unreadable look before turning back to you to smile with just a little too much teeth. “She’s our old friend.”

“Oh, are you? You didn’t mention that.” Yuki turns to you. You stare at Jungwon for a second before plastering on an awkward smile.

“Yes. Yeah. Um, I didn’t want to influence the company’s decision.”

He nods, smiling.

“I understand. Well, that’s actually great to hear. I hope you’ll feel a part of the team quicker this way.”

You haven’t spared Riki another glance since the first one. Frankly, you’d rather take a nice, long stroll over hot coals. The awkward energy in the room washes over you in waves, and your face feels oddly robotic as you attempt to maneuver it into another positive human expression. 

“Oh, definitely. I’m, uh, excited to get started.”

Yuki smiles widely, turning to the members.

“Okay, boys, this is how it’s going to go. I’ll leave you to get situated with Y/N, and in about…” he pauses, checking his watch. “...twenty minutes, I’ll come back to grab Sunoo and Sunghoon so that Y/N can get started on styling them for their variety guesting today. We’ll have our first group shoot with her tomorrow for EN-O’ Clock. Does that sound good to everybody?”

There’s a chorus of distracted hums from the members. Yuki barely pays them any mind, flashing you a quick thumbs up. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” he whispers, before he’s slipping out of the room.

Then, it’s just you and the door. You and the big, brown, important door.

And also the seven pairs of beady eyes drilling holes into the back of your head.

Someone coughs from behind you. Begrudgingly, you turn around. 

“So,” Jungwon says.

“So,” you parrot back. You feel awkward, standing there in your pink jacket and your matching pink heels. Obviously, you look good, but still. You suddenly wish your friends were there to say something helpful, like diffuse the tension! or fuck Riki! Either would work.

“Someone say something already.” Jay breaks the silence, shifting in his seat awkwardly. You sigh.

“Look, this is weird. But it doesn’t have to be weird. Because, like, this is my job now,” you drone on, the panic in your voice increasing with every word you get out. “And I obviously wasn’t going to turn it down just because of… er, I wasn’t going to turn it down.”

You almost flinch at your mistake, hoping nobody else caught it.

“Anyway, I’m not looking to be friends with you guys or anything. I’m your stylist now. So we can be, like, all weird and stuff outside of work, but in this building I’m going to do my job, and you’re all going to have to let me.” You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

“Can I just say—” Sunghoon tries to speak, but your gaze snaps over to him and he shuts his mouth promptly.

“Uh-uh. I’m not done,” you say, standing up a little straighter. “Just so you know; I’ve worked my ass off to be here, and I’m not letting stuff from my past ruin that. This is my career, and I’m not who I was two years ago. Okay?”

“Understood,” Jungwon murmurs. Almost all of the boys nod in agreement. Almost all.

Riki clears his throat, standing up from his chair. He’s much bigger and taller than you remember, his frame having practically doubled. He doesn’t spare you a single glance, his dark eyes trained on the door.

“I have to go,” he mumbles lowly. There really is a lot that’s changed about him; you can barely recognize the timbre of his voice. You try to say something back; nothing comes out.

As Riki announces his departure, a heavy silence settles in the room. He pushes past you, avoiding eye contact, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. You feel a pang of something—confusion? Anger? Regret?—as he disappears from sight. The rest of the members exchange uncomfortable glances, unsure of what to say or do next.

You swallow roughly before deciding not to get too caught up on it. After all, you weren’t lying. This is something far more important than a failed relationship; it’s your career. Riki can be as immature about it as he wants to be.

Taking a deep breath, you force a smile and turn back to the group. 

“He didn’t start insulting me the second I walked in, so I’d call that a win,” you say. Jungwon snorts, and Sunoo flashes an apologetic smile as you smooth your hands over your jacket and move closer to the table. “Also, I know I gave that whole speech, but…I really do hope you guys don’t think this is weird.”

“It’s a little weird,” Sunghoon chirps. Jake elbows him in the side.

“It isn’t weird,” Jake corrects, casting a sideways glance at Sunghoon, who’s now rubbing at himself dramatically. “Promise we’ll make this as not weird as possible.”

The rest of the members—save for Sunghoon, of course—hum in agreement. The uncomfortable feeling in your throat eases just a little bit.

“Thanks, guys.”

You can only wonder what tomorrow will bring.

💭 A/N! so sorry abt the wait on this one!! they have finally met each other again omg...riki is emotionally constipated wbk but now the real #story begins!! pat urself on the back for making it this far friends

TAGLIST. @vousty @neos127 @junityy @aenify @en-ner-jay @laylasbunbunny @k1ttylvr @uolarie @en-gelic @mmygnolia @sol3chu @nikiswifiee @somaya2928282 @sleepyxxhead @chokichips @smuchsmut @camprock101 @heesw1fe @yourmyst4r @sugariricookies @13tter @limonadeistasty @heart4hees @illvding @heartheejake @nctrawberries @nyfwyeonjun @itsactuallylina @tall-girl-t @ramenoil @thenastone @laurradoesloveu @wonwootakemyheart @heeseungmyman @unhakki @randomanothercreature @rairaiblog @pkjay @jiyeons-closet @jakeyverse @d-dilemma @martinqqq @im-lovely-stfu @isoobie @natalunae @ksjluvrbot @tyunni @riksaes @xyzyx01 @i03jae @gweoriz @kkamismom12 (send an ask to be added!)

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[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: To build a home. 2888 words.

1986

When the temperature dropped and a near-constant fog hung low over Hawkins, you were glad, being more of a winter witch than summer. You stood on the peak of a hillside and looked over the vast plains surrounding the town. The mist made everything look ghostly and romantic.

The land had been returned to the descendants of the original Native American peoples who once lived there, but with no immediate plans to reoccupy the space, your new coven had been granted permission to make home on the condition you would oversee its protection.

For the moment, you were alone on the hill. Eddie was hiding from solar rays in the trailer, listening to the radio and writing in a journal he had recently started.

There was a lot to do before your sisters arrived and you wanted it all done by then. You wanted everything to be perfect. The first dwelling of a new coven would set the tone for centuries to come. It was time to build.

The advantages of being magically blessed were many, but you’d always thought enchanted seeds had to be right up there in the top ten. You’d had seven seeds soaking in seven jars over the past seven days.

You’d lined them up and filled them to halfway with moon water. In went a seed each, apple slices, and petals. In Ash’s jar went dahlia petals, while Hailey’s had peonies. Purple mums for Meg. Foxglove for Ev. Mel’s had snapdragons and lucky last, Kelsey’s was filled with delphinium.

Now, you’d fished each seed out and planted it where their cabins, cottages, and homes were to be.

“I plant these seeds,

Where homes will grow,

By moonlight

And good intentions.

In this time,

And in this place,

A coven new

Offers protection.”

You laid on the grass in the shade of an old sycamore tree. Closing your eyes, you let yourself melt into the natural world. Bones became tree roots. Blood swapped for mud. Total harmony. Infinite peace.

The air grew cooler and the shade expanded outwards. Darkness enveloped you and your body slowed as if you were in your final resting place. That’s how he found you; not asleep but not awake.

Eddie surveyed your work. The seeds had already sprouted, grew, and bloomed. Magical in their speed. He picked one of the snapdragon flowers and squeezed the base, like you’d shown him. It opened the flower’s mouth, a tiny floral puppet. Eddie smiled to himself.

You felt their heartbeats before you saw Eddie. Sitting up, you watched the deer and her fawn meander in from the forest. She’d looked at you, poised in question. What is he? Is he safe? Given a witch’s blessing, she let her baby approach Eddie.

He too had heard their heartbeats. Eddie had remained where he was, mindful not to scare them. When the fawn appeared at his feet, he slowly opened his hand to the animal and let it eat the snapdragon from his palm.

“You would know if it was poison, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. The fawn looked up at him, long eyelashes and soft whiskers.

Eddie turned to find you standing close behind him. You were getting very good at sneaking up on him.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Making friends?”

Eddie nodded.

“Feeding my flowers to them?”

There was an overwhelming feeling that the moment was beautifully preordained – and really, knowing fate, it probably was.

Eddie turned back to the flowers. “I thought you said they would grow into homes?”

“They will. They just need some time alone with the moon… Shall we?” You held your hand out to Eddie.

…

While you appreciated Walmart’s late night hours, their range of Halloween costumes was less than ideal. You stared at the row of wigs for a while before drifting away in search of decorations. October was a good time to find homewares you’d use all year round.

You were shaking a snow globe filled with little black bats when Eddie appeared in front of you, holding up a vampire costume. “It comes with plastic teeth,” he pointed out. “And a cape,”

You snorted. “Is that your pick? Because generic vampire would be very meta of you.”

He smiled but shook his head. “I don’t think this would put the humans at ease,”

“Probably not. So… something more friendly?”

“Yes. More… normal,” he said in a way that made ‘normal’ sound taboo. Eddie’s gaze wandered from you over to the back corner of the store. He handed you the vampire costume then walked away without further explanation.

You frowned, watching him go. Looking down at the costume in your hands, an idea sprung to mind. The red cape. You returned to the wigs.

A little later, Eddie was waiting for you when you came out of the fitting room with a white dress. You glanced at the jeans and long-sleeved blue polo top he was holding.

“I need a cat,” he told you seriously. “The children in the toy aisle are…”

“You’re afraid of them?”

“No. I’m afraid I’ll eat them. Come. Restrain me if you must,” he announced dramatically, loudly. The Walmart employee at the fitting room door gave you a concerned look as Eddie grabbed your hand and dragged you away.

Both your endeavours were successful; Eddie found the necessary prop in the plush toy bin, and you raided the craft section. With a few other odds and ends in the basket, you were ready to head home, arriving at Forest Hills just before midnight.

Eddie carried the shopping inside, leaving you to unpack and get started on your project while he brewed tea for you. He had been practicing with flavour combinations and brewing times, constantly requesting feedback since he himself could not drink the tea without immediately throwing it back up. The best he could do was let it linger on his tongue and capture the taste in the few seconds before his dead mouth killed it.

“You should sleep soon,” he insisted, albeit softly.

You took the mug of tea he held out and smiled at him. “I will. I just want to organise this stuff,”

“Why are you making it? Could you not cast some sort of illusion spell? Or magically will all the pieces into the shapes you want?”

“I could. But where’s the Halloween spirit in that?”

Eddie nodded and began to go through his costume pieces. “Could you possibly spare a spell for a pair of my boots? They need to be brown, I believe,”

“Didn’t want to just buy some brown boots?”

His frown was bordering on pout. “I’d never wear them again.”

You laughed.  Eddie had been developing his own sense of style. If style was beat-up combat boots and a ratty denim jacket he probably stole from someone in the city. Consistently though, he wore a lot of black.

“I’ll work on it,” you agreed with a nod.

An hour later, when you kept pausing mid-sentence to yawn, Eddie whisked you off to bed, tucking you in and wishing you sweet dreams.

“You going to sleep too?” you asked, meaning ‘do you need the bat spell?’

“No, my love. I’m hungry,”

“Walmart kids wet your appetite?”

He chuckled, always amused when you made dark jokes. He kissed your forehead and watched you fall asleep, then left Hawkins in search of violence.

…

The next day, Eddie waited for the last of the light to leave the porch before he stirred. He’d spent hours curled up in one of the many nests you’d built for him around the trailer. The nest on the porch was as soft as his fur and perfectly positioned so he could sleep in the sun all day.

When night fell, cool and calm, he flew inside and found you in the bath. You said the words with your eyes closed, letting a human-shaped Eddie settle on the tiles.

“You’ve been gone for hours,”

“I was just outside. These may be the last fine days we see this year,”

“My baby sunshine bat,” you cooed with a smile, waking yourself up to look at him.

You had woken that morning to Eddie curled around you, satiated and happy. He asked to be battified, then disappeared outside. You’d spent the day working on your costume.

Eddie rested his chin on the edge of the bath, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body. “I miss you when I’m not near you,” he said suddenly.

“I thought you were just outside,”

“I was. Even then. Even sleeping. It’s too far.”

You held a hand up for him to take. Tangled fingers. A warm pulse against cold skin.

“Maybe we should stitch our bodies together,” you whispered.

Eddie’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “I could just bite down and never let you go,”

“I could cut you up into itty bitty pieces and consume you entirely,”

“You’re starting something you cannot finish,” Eddie warned, his eyes growing dark. He untangled one of your fingers and held it between his teeth.

“I’d let you eat me whole.”

Eddie dropped your hand abruptly, pulled you from the lukewarm bathwater, and had you wrapped around him like a koala before you even registered movement.

“I will reach my hand into my throat and tear down until I find what is left of my unbeating heart. I will serve it to you and you will feast and we will become one.” His voice was earnest and emphatic.

Teeth clenched, you smashed your forehead to his and pulled hard on his hair. Maybe you said what you needed him to do out loud, maybe he read your mind. Either way, you were facedown on a mattress within a second, Eddie’s teeth and tongue scraping and licking up the backs of your legs.

“I…” he started.

“Want…”

Words separated by kisses.

“To…”

By bites.

“Eat…”

Like a recited spell.

“All…”

Well timed magic.

“The…”

He was at your hips.

“Love…”

Pushing beneath you.

“Out of you.”

…

Little witch…

Little witch…

His voice was in your head.

In your dreams.

Then, real.

“Little witch, my love? You wanted to check on your flower houses before the night is through,” Eddie said. He was right. That had been the plan. But the sun had set, he’d taken you to bed, and you’d lost hours with him. When did you fall asleep?

Slowly, you crawled from bed and checked the time. Midnight had only just left you. Heavy, sluggish movements. Weighed down by an unscheduled nap. You flopped back onto the bed.

“Do you need help?” Eddie asked as he came to stand in front of you.

Pouting, you nodded.

You watched him collect fresh clothes, ruminating over what he wanted to see you in. Eddie pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed, hooking underwear on and sliding them up. Still foggy with sleep, you felt like you were still rolling through a dreamscape. Eddie worked slowly. Sensually. With tenderness. It almost brought you to tears.

With your shoes laced up, there was no reason left to delay. You twinkled your fingers at Eddie, asking to be lifted off the bed. He acquiesced, leading you out of the bedroom and through the trailer.

On the car ride to the new coven, with your Moody Midnight mix tape playing loud, you watched Eddie out of the corner of your eye. He wound down the window and glided his hand through the fall wind.

As the flowerbeds came into view, Eddie’s mouth dropped open and an expression of pure delight lit up his face. He was out of the car before you cut the engine.

The seedlings had gone. In their places, beautiful buildings set apart from each other with enough space to grow gardens and vegetable patches, yet close enough to wave through windows.

Kelsey’s cottage was the first on the street, a warm welcome with shutters the shade of delphinium blue. It seemed small, unassuming, but you knew as soon as she moved in, she would charm it so it grew bigger and bigger on the inside, never changing on the outside. Eventually, as the coven embraced new members, Kelsey would take on housemates, her little cabin becoming the heart of the sisterhood.

Across from the cottage were Ash and Hailey’s cute tiny homes, their dahlia and peonies growing strong out front already. Down the way sat Ev’s Victorian style house. It was grand and gothic, and undoubtedly filled with secret nooks and spaces that Ev would hide all sorts of weird things in. Both Meg and Mel had dwellings on the far side of the field. Meg’s thatched roof a bright purple, and Mel’s garden already sprouting with plants she could feed her turtle.

“This is… It feels…” Eddie didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, he couldn’t believe this type of magic was allowed. It seemed too immense, too obvious.

“I know,” you told him. “We don’t always build like this. But I want them to feel at home, you know? I want this all to feel… right.”

Eddie nodded, finally stopping his awestruck pacing, and focussing on you. “They will love it,” he assured you. “I love it… It’s…” Still, not a single adjective would form. He looked over the buildings again. “Wait… There is not… You have not grown a home for yourself?”

“For us,” you corrected.

“For us… Please don’t tell me you intend on dragging that trailer across town?” Eddie joked. Half joked. There was clear apprehension in his tone. A little fear in his eyes.

You laughed. “No. I don’t intend on doing that… It’s just, you know, we haven’t talked about what kind of home we want.”

He couldn’t maintain eye contact, turned back to the houses, watching them as if they were going to continue to grow. They wouldn’t, of course. Not with an audience.

You let Eddie ponder while you walked the perimeter of the field. The land the coven would care for extended far beyond the little neighbourhood you’d grown from petals, but the air was already crackling with magic. Out in the forest over the hill, a family of red foxes were jumping and playing. Bats swooped through the sky and fireflies carved patterns through the dark.

Eddie sat on the doorstep of Ev’s Victorian. He listened to your heartbeat. How, when other living things came close to you, their breathing synced to yours. Leaves twisted in your direction like you were the sun. The center of everything. Definitely his.

You were almost out of his eyeline, crouched down scratching the belly of a fox cub, when you went still. For a moment Eddie thought you’d sensed or seen danger, but quickly you were up and turned to him. “You do want a home, right?”

In an instant, he was in front of you, the breadth of the field nothing to him. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because. Like I said. We’ve never talked about it.”

Eddie’s brows pulled together and his expression so sharp it could have been mistaken as anger, rather than the abject confusion it was. “Everything I have ever said has been about you. Loving you. Getting this far,”

“Yes. Yeah. But logistically… Vampires are nomadic. And all the time taken from you. You don’t want to see how the world has changed?”

The foxes had gone, unnerved by the thing that wasn’t human or witch. The breeze had settled, the trees providing a windbreak. Eddie saw through your line of questioning, tracing it back to the niggle of anxious thought settling in your brain. His face softened, then the beginning of his trademark smirk.

Eddie threw himself onto his knees at your feet, twisting his hands in the layers of your long, black skirt. “I am bound to you. Where you are, is where I am.”

You couldn’t help but grin. His dramatics wouldn’t distract you though. Dropping to your knees you looked at him seriously. He laughed.

“Eddie. You have been trapped in Hawkins for a hundred years. I’m not going to be the next witch to keep you here,”

“You want to know what I desire, in the deep, dark, catacombs of my soul?”

It was rhetorical, but you nodded.

“What do you picture me having done between 1586 and… well, you? 250 years of stillness? No, my love. I have seen the world. I know what is out there. It may have changed, but it will change again and again. I don’t want the world. I want you. I want to know you when you’re happy. I want to see you build this coven. Grow plants. Heal human ailment and cast witch magic…” Eddie tipped his head to the side a little, cocky as ever. “Logistically we should consider blackout blinds and room for books, not international travel.”

You wore that glazed-over look, drunk on the articulation of Eddie’s love. “You want a library?” you asked, voice coming out in a dumb whisper. Eddie nodded. “Me too. Maybe two… One for fiction and one for non-fiction,”

“Maybe three. Fiction. Non-fiction. Then, one for grimoires and other craft books.”

The foxes watched on from burrow doors. They still didn’t know what he was, but as long as he was with you, they’d leave him be.

End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for, well, the cannibalism.

There is a short playlist linked in this, little witch's Moody Midnight mix tape. I hope you like it.

There are a lot of people on the tag list that I have no idea if they read this story anymore. Feedback and love are deeply appreciated. xo Rhi

P.S. I hope you love your witchy homes @vintagehellfire @courtingchaos @pastel-pillows @ghost-proofbaby @kookygranger @toomanyacorns

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[uwmspeccoll]

Staff Pick of the Week

Feeling that burn? With a heat wave gripping the Midwest this week and a heat advisory currently in effect in Milwaukee, we could all use a little relief where we can get it. Never fear, performance artist Allan Kaprow's Air Condition is here with a silly yet charming strategy for beating the heat.

Kaprow (1927-2006), who is most well-known for his "Happenings" (which often manifested as performances, situations, or events), described Air Condition as "a 'privacy piece' meant for an individual alone, which was carried out by seven persons in the hills around the California Institute of the Arts, Valencia, in October of 1973."

This work, which was published in 1975, was donated to UWM Libraries by Kaprow himself in 1976, along with Warm-Ups, Testimonials, 7 Kinds of Sympathy, Match, Maneuvers, and Comfort Zones (all of which were published between 1975-1976).

--Ana, Special Collections Graduate Intern

View more Staff Picks.

[eevylynn]

Tiny Spark, Mighty Flame

Sterek || eventual Alpha Werewolf Stiles [ao3]

Among born werewolves, it was common knowledge that the prime age for a human to endure the bite of an Alpha and survive was typically during their teenage or young adult years. In fact, the youngest recorded case of a bite resulting in a transformation and not death was previously eleven years old, so imagine the Hale pack’s astonishment when they learned of a small seven year old who was bitten and miraculously survived, challenging the known boundaries of possibility.

Chapter 2 - Perception Ignited

The late afternoon sun broke through the thick canopy of trees on the long, winding road through the dense preserve casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on Roscoe. The lush green leaves danced in the gentle breeze, creating a picturesque scene of nature's vibrant beauty. The summer heat wrapped itself around the vehicle, adding a sense of warmth and anticipation to the air.

Seated in the backseat, Stiles' imagination soared amidst the seemingly surreal surroundings. His young mind, now awakened to the existence of supernatural beings, conjured images of mythical creatures running alongside the car. Perhaps a majestic unicorn with a gleaming horn or a fierce griffin soaring through the sky? Stiles yearned to encounter these fantastical beings, unsure of which ones were mere legends and which ones held the truth. Now that he knew werewolves were real and that he himself had become one, his entire world, his very perception of reality had forever shifted. Anything seemed possible, and the boundaries between the ordinary and the extraordinary blurred in his mind.

Stiles marveled at the fact that he had been discharged from the hospital yesterday after being there for only a day. He’s still amazed at his own healing. He pulled his sleeve up to look at his arm where the giant werewolf had bitten him and still found it astounding that there wasn’t a single trace of injury.

When they had arrived at Beacon Hills Medical Center two days ago, Melissa McCall happened to be on duty, a stroke of luck that would prove crucial. It was Ms. McCall who first noticed something extraordinary about Stiles' injuries - they were healing at an astonishing rate. The sight both relieved and alarmed the Stilinski family and the medical staff, leaving them bewildered.

Unbeknownst to them, Alpha Talia Hale had cultivated connections within the medical center staff, ensuring that she would be promptly informed of any supernatural occurrences. As soon as she received word of Stiles' condition, she wasted no time and made her way swiftly to the hospital. Talia sought out the bewildered parents, Noah and Claudia Stilinski, to deliver the astonishing truth: their son had been turned into a werewolf.

With utmost care and compassion, Talia explained the physical implications that Stiles would now face, including the transformations, the influence of the full moon, and his heightened senses. She also shed some light on the intricate dynamics of werewolf packs and the profound impact they have on the mental and emotional well-being of their members. Overwhelmed and nervous, the Stilinski family found themselves grappling with the magnitude of the revelation. Noah especially struggled to accept this new reality unfolding before him.

Being a parent herself, with three children of her own, Talia could relate to the stress and uncertainty that accompanied such circumstances. She provided them with her personal contact information and assured them that she would be available whenever they needed assistance, guidance, or simply a compassionate ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on.

As the jeep came to a halt in front of the imposing Hale house, Stiles glanced up and caught sight of a boy not much older than himself standing at one of the upstairs windows. His black hair framed his face, and thick eyebrows added intensity to his piercing green eyes. Though Stiles couldn't comprehend the significance of the moment, he felt an inexplicable pull toward this mysterious boy. With a friendly wave, the stranger acknowledged Stiles' arrival as the younger boy climbed out of the old jeep. Stiles grinned and waved back.

“Mischief,” Claudia called softly, gaining the boy’s attention, and he joined his parents as they headed to the large covered porch.

By the time they reached the stairs, Talia had already opened the red door, ready to greet them with a tall teenager standing at her right that had the same long dark hair and dark eyes as her mother.

“Welcome to our home!” the Alpha said regally. “This is my eldest, Laura,” Talia added, gesturing to the girl next to her. “She has recently started her training to take over as Alpha after myself, so she wanted to join us. Laura, this is Deputy Noah Stilinski and his wife Claudia.”

Talia paused before crouching down to be level with Stiles as she continued, “And this little one here is our newest pack member, Mieczysław.” 

Stiles blinked and raised his eyebrows over at his parents at the correct pronunciation of his name. No one outside of their family had ever been able to say it correctly before.

“Nice to meet you all,” Laura said kindly, “especially you, Meechslav.”

Noah smiled at Laura’s stumbling, “You can call him ‘Stiles’ if you want.”

“I am so sorry!” Laura looked horrified, like she had offended them or something, “I’ve been trying to practice saying it. Everyone has the right to have their name pronounced properly.”

Claudia put a calming hand on the girl’s shoulder, and replied, “Sweetie, we appreciate it. Honestly!” She added, seeing Laura about to interrupt. “Mieczysław was my father’s name. They were first generation immigrants from Poland, and, trust me, as a native speaker of the language, I completely understand that most Americans would have issues pronouncing it. Even my little Mischief here has problems saying his own name at times.” Claudia smiled down at Stiles, running her fingers through his shaggy hair. “For the longest time, he pronounced it ‘Mischief’, which is both adorable and, admittedly, accurate,” Claudia laughed lightly and everyone joined in.

“Stiles was originally my own father’s nickname,” Noah added, “so in a way, he’s named after both of his grandparents. We won’t be offended which you choose to call him by. You’re good. I swear.”

Talia smiled at Stiles, still crouched next to him. “What would you prefer, pup?” she inquired softly.

Stiles fidgeted as all eyes turned towards him. He shrugged, “Stiles is what everyone at school calls me.”

“Stiles it is!” Talia said cheerfully before she stood up, clapped her hands once and motioned for everyone to head inside. “How about we show you guys around real quick while Elijah finishes up lunch.”

[continue reading on ao3]

[archivist-crow]

The Haunted Atlas

Bird Cage Theatre - Tombstone, Arizona, United States

31°42′43″N / 110°3′55″W

Old West theater, gambling hall, saloon, and brothel in Tombstone, Arizona, haunted by numerous ghosts.

History

The Bird Cage Theatre achieved fame and notoriety in the 1880s as the roughest, wildest honky-tonk in the West. It was open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. In its eight short years of business, 20 gunfights and 26 murders took place there. Some of the most famous personalities of the Wild West were frequent visitors, among them Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and Bat Masterson. The Bird Cage was especially famous for its prostitutes, the "soiled doves" and "tainted angels" who entertained men in "cribs" or "cages" —alcoves on the second floor over the main hall. Men paid 20 to 25 dollars for the company of one of the girls. While the entertaining went on in the cribs, exotic dancers took the stage to music played by a live orchestra.

Supposedly, a card game lasted the entire history of the hall—eight years, five months, and three days. Doc Holliday especially liked to play Faro, a popular game in the 19th century. The combination of liquor, gambling, and women was combustible, leading to the gunfights that left 140 bullet holes in the hall and untold bullet holes in victims. The unlucky ones were collected by hearse and carted up to Boot Hill for burial. One of the unfortunate dead was Morgan Earp, brother of Wyatt. Morgan was killed on a pool table that still bears his bloodstains.

The Bird Cage closed in 1889. It is now a museum, in near original condition. Tombstone is much the same as it was in the late 19th century and is a popular tourist draw.

Haunting Activity

Footsteps have been heard on the stairs to the basement where the gambling took place. Poltergeist and ghostly phenomena include lights going on and off, sensations of presences, and problems with cameras and other equipment. Phantom smells of tobacco and whiskey can suddenly permeate the air, and the sounds of shouting, laughter, and gambling are heard. Sounds emanate from the empty cribs on the second floor. The parlor where the long game went on—and where the higher-priced women entertained men in side rooms—is one of the most active areas of the theater.

Apparitions of people dressed in late-19th-century clothing are seen, especially a man wearing a black visor who walks across the stage.

Text from The Encyclopedia of Ghosts and Spirits, Third Edition by Rosemary Ellen Guiley (Checkmark Books - 2007)

[bulkyphrase]

Steve Rogers + Hydra Trash Party: A Valentine's Day Rec List

Happy Valentine's Day! There's nothing more romantic to me than absolutely terrible things happening to my favorite fictional men, so please enjoy this list of all my Steve-centric HTP faves.

I know these are not for everyone, so this first fic is a cute story where Hydra accidentally turns themselves into cephalopods:

The Better to Hug You With by Lauralot (@lauralot89) (General Audiences | 1,740 words | No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: As he's stepping off the Metro, Steve catches a glimpse of waving tentacles in his peripheral vision. An octopus is wriggling onto the platform. He's entering the Triskelion when it happens again: a flash of tentacles in the corner of his eye, this time roping around a filing cabinet. Clearly Steve needs more sleep.

Everything after this is more HTP-typical non-con and violence, so proceed with caution and be sure to check the tags before reading.

[Podfic] A Hostile Work Environment read by sallysparrow017 (Explicit, 45-60 Minutes, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Note: The original has been deleted but at least we still have a great podfic version of this amazing fic

Summary: Podfic of stoatsandwich's 'A Hostile Work Environment' Five times Captain America fantasized about being gang-raped by the STRIKE Team, plus one more.

Blood from a Stone by shinelikethunder (tenlittlebullets) (@shinelikethunder) (Explicit | 23,651 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Once you passed a certain point in the hierarchy, getting ordered to do shit like lead a gangbang on Captain America was a surprise but not a shock. Fill for a hydratrashmeme prompt requesting a Hydra/Steve gangbang where Steve has been dosed with aphrodisiacs to force him to get off. Or, a trash party dumpster travesty in two acts:Act 1: Steve Rogers: World's Most Defiant Hydra Party FavorAct 2: Post-Rescue Hurt/Comfort: Now With Bonus Steve/Sam Sex Pollen Dubcon Also available as a podfic read by sallysparrow017

Catastrophe (Breeds Strength) by sock_bealady (Explicit | 21,272 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage)

Summary: Not long after the events of Iron Man 3, the Avengers are captured by what they thought were friends. Rumlow promises they won't remember a thing. Steve is starting to hope he's right.

For What it's Worth by throttlegainwell (@throttlegainwell) (Explicit | 11,654 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: When he found the safehouse, after it had been scoured for evidence, he’d personally taken it down to studs. He recognized the room from the tape. What he hadn’t recognized so far was any of the men from the tape. None of them had surfaced, none had been so involved in Project Insight that they hadn’t run for the hills when defeat was on the air. And he knew their faces. He knew them. He knew their ugly jeering voices and their obnoxious laughs and their appendectomy scars and at this point he might even recognize their dicks at a urinal. He’d know them the second he saw them. If he saw them. Part of him hoped that Bucky wouldn’t, but Bucky seemed to remember a lot more than he claimed, so it seemed a stretch too far. As he rather violently found out seven months later, on a side street in Prague at two thirty-three in the morning, it was.

Four Across by justanotherStonyfan (Explicit | 5,728 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Written for a prompt on the Hydra Trash Meme -So say HYDRA uses the Winter Soldier to seduce people as a spy as well as to assassinate people. Some people like it vanilla, some people like to dominate him - and some people want to be dominated by him. He's conditioned to be dominant when triggered by a certain word or phrase. There's a word/phrase to turn dom!WS off too, but the character of your choice has no idea what it is. They didn't mean to trigger this aspect of the Soldier, they just happened to say the wrong thing.

Give Me Your Filth by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (@dsudis) (Explicit | 15,378 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: "I don't care," Bucky said. "I don't care which one was you and which one was someone else. You're underneath me now. It's my turn. I do things now, and you lie there and take it." This was going to hurt.

I Remembered You Were Mine by hobbitdragon (Explicit | 4,455 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Steve awakes in a strange place with a familiar face standing over him. He has no idea where he is or how he got there, but at least Bucky is with him. Also available as a podfic read by Tipsy_Kitty (@tipsyxkitty)

Man in the Box by buckybleeds (@buckybleeds) (Explicit | 29,239 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: This is the fic I've been referring to as "the horrible boxfic." Hydra wins and Steve gets put into a put into a sex vending machine in the Strike team locker room.

Mnemosyne by MilesHibernus (Explicit | 6,924 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Steve's working on dealing with a mission gone wrong when Bucky comes in from the cold.

Salt by throttlegainwell (@throttlegainwell) (Mature | 7,168 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Memory is inconvenient – for so many reasons, in so many ways. Bucky’d read the books and seen the movies and, frankly, lived the horror show. He knew the misconceptions that people so easily believed. Memories weren’t like movies; they’re not so neat, not so cleanly edited, not so purposeful. They’re just bits of collected and confusingly collated data. Attempting to get around that fact, as had so been the case for the treatment of his mind, was unnatural.

Show You How by justanotherStonyfan (Explicit | 10,567 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: Written for a prompt on the Hydra Trash Meme:Rumlow and Steve have started fooling around sometime shortly before the events of CA: TWS. They've done stuff - they've probably sucked each other off, maybe some fingering, whatever - but Rumlow hasn't actually fucked Steve yet. Steve is still a virgin in the sense of not having had penetrative sex, at least with a dude. Steve is taken into custody, maybe after the bridge fight if they didn't get rescued. He gets taken to whatever horrible gang-bang cell exists in the HYDRA sub-basement with Rumlow and other random thugs. Rumlow says something with super mean fake tenderness like, hey, sorry I've kept you waiting this long to get your cherry popped, but I really wanted it to be the right moment . Which, of course, is going to be right now in front of everybody. Up to the writer if other people then get involved too. Bonus points if Steve isn't particularly naive; he knows there's stuff Rumlow isn't telling him or maybe even that he's being played in some way, but obviously doesn't know the extent of it and is enjoying the sex and the general human contact/comfort before horrible things start going down.

The Wolf by ipoiledi (@ipoiledi) (Explicit | 5,114 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence)

Summary: So it started that way: a harmless joke.

to burn your kingdom down by glorious_spoon (@glorious-spoon) (Explicit | 12,370 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

TsumBody to Love by buckybleeds (@buckybleeds) (Explicit | 7,067 words | Rape/Non-Con)

Summary: *handwavium* Bucky and Steve are now tsum tsums and Brock's gonna fuck 'em and they're going to be sad and squeaky about it.

[brostateexam]

I would like to brag about how Texas Tough I was when it came to enduring the long South Texas summer of my childhood, but the truth is that it was winter that I dreaded most. Our house was heated by a wood-burning stove in the kitchen. Overnight, the fire would die down, and by morning the house had leaked all its warmth. As a kid, my morning routine was a shiver fest: I would cast off my electric blanket, make my way to the back porch to gather firewood, sort the kindling and the tinder, and then light a fire in the stove. While I waited, I would lay my clothes on the cast iron until they were hot to the touch—sliding into them was like putting on a comforting skin. To this day, I abhor being cold. (Maybe Switzerland isn’t for me after all.)

Despite growing up in rural South Texas without air-conditioning, I don’t remember being uncomfortable in the summers, at least not in the house. The old thing was uninsulated and drafty, inviting in the sea breezes that bring thunderstorms from the Gulf to the coastal plains. After school and in the summer, I spent hours at the town library, devouring books in the delicious AC. Plus, summers just weren’t as hot in the eighties and early nineties—I know; I looked up the data. The seven hottest summers on record for DeWitt County, where I grew up, have all occurred since 1998. 

It was working outdoors that made me appreciate what it means to eat by the sweat of your brow. My chores were many: ditchdigging, brush clearing, trash burning. Near the Gulf, one moves about in the soupy air like a bird drying its wings or an aging cowboy—arms apart from the body to let the pits breathe and to keep the sweat at bay. My parents were potters back then; they quite literally made a living from heat. Their studio on our little ranch had five or so electric kilns in a metal pole barn. Temperatures inside were diabolical. We burned our household trash in a fifty-gallon drum, and the rest went into a ravine, a makeshift dump where garbage was burned. We had cattle and horses and a big garden that needed tending to. Sweat was money.

When I was fourteen we moved to the Hill Country town of Wimberley. Spring-fed Blue Hole, an idyllic swimming hole on Cypress Creek, was within walking distance of our home; so was the cool Blanco River. Our tiny single-wide mobile home was cramped, but it had air-conditioning. Just like that, we had stepped into the modern era. It wasn’t the six-shooter that tamed the West; it was AC. 

Recent years, though, have tested me. I had hoped—against available evidence—that the scorcher of 2011 was a black swan, a once-in-a-lifetime heat wave, but now it seems like almost every summer finds new ways to challenge my resilience and upend my expectations of the future. Like a lot of folks, I underestimated the urgency of climate change. In Elmer Kelton’s classic novel on the 1950s Texas drought, The Time It Never Rained, the main character—a stubborn rancher who has sworn he will outlast hard times—tells his son that they just need to wait long enough to see rain again. “It always did rain here, eventually. A country don’t change climate permanently, not all of a sudden.” Little did Charlie Flagg know.

[adventuretravels1]

Top 7 Adventure Activities You Must Try

The Trill Of Adventure Activities

Adventure is the spice of life, a gateway to experiences that thrill the soul and challenge the body. For those who crave more than just routine, adventure activities provide an unparalleled sense of exhilaration and accomplishment. Engaging in these high-energy pursuits not only satisfies your need for excitement but also pushes you beyond your limits, revealing strengths you never knew you had. The world is filled with opportunities for adventure, and here are seven must-try activities that will quench your thirst for adrenaline and leave you craving more. Visit ADVENTURA to explore the adventure tour packages around India.

Skiing Adventure

Nestled in the heart of the Indian Himalayas, Manali is a paradise for skiing enthusiasts. As winter blankets the region in a thick layer of snow, the slopes of Solang Valley and Rohtang Pass transform into a skier's dream. The crisp mountain air, combined with the breathtaking views of snow-covered peaks, makes skiing in Manali an unforgettable experience. Whether you’re a seasoned skier or a beginner eager to learn, Manali offers a variety of runs catering to all skill levels. With professional instructors and well-maintained slopes, it’s the perfect destination to embrace the thrill of gliding down the mountainside, surrounded by the serene beauty of the Himalayas.

2. Paragliding

Manali is considered one of the world's premier paragliding destinations. The combination of favorable wind conditions and breathtaking views makes it a must-visit for paragliding enthusiasts. As you launch into the sky from Solang Valley, the higher of the two villages, the world below becomes a patchwork of green fields, dense forests, and quaint villages, offering an unparalleled sense of freedom and tranquility.

Paragliding in Solang Valley is typically done in tandem with a trained pilot, ensuring a safe and enjoyable experience. The best time for paragliding here is from October to June when the skies are clear and the weather is ideal for soaring.

3. Zorbing

Zorbing in Manali is an exhilarating experience that blends the thrill of adventure with the breathtaking beauty of the Himalayan landscape. Nestled in the lush Solang Valley, Manali offers the perfect setting for this unique activity. Imagine yourself strapped inside a giant, transparent inflatable ball, rolling down gentle slopes surrounded by verdant hills and snow-capped peaks. The sensation of spinning and tumbling, cushioned by the soft interior of the zorb, creates a rush of adrenaline that is both thrilling and oddly serene. Suitable for all ages, zorbing in Manali is a fun and unforgettable way to immerse yourself in the region's natural splendor while satisfying your adventurous spirit.

4. Rock Climbing

Manali is a rock climber’s haven. The landscape, dotted with massive boulders, offers a variety of climbing challenges, from easy ascents to more difficult routes that test even the most seasoned climbers. Climbing in Manali is a blend of physical endurance and mental focus, as each ascent requires careful planning and execution.

The boulders of Manali are ideal for both bouldering and traditional climbing, and the area has become a hotspot for climbers from around the world. Essential gear includes climbing shoes, crash pads, and chalk bags. The best time to climb in Manali is from November to February, when the weather is cool and dry, providing optimal conditions for climbing.

5. Trekking Adventure

The Himalayan range, often referred to as the "abode of snow," is a trekker's paradise. Stretching across northern India, the Himalayas offer a variety of trekking routes, each with its own distinct charm. Whether you're navigating the rugged terrain of the Markha Valley or the serene paths of the Valley of Flowers, the Himalayas promise an experience that is both physically challenging and spiritually uplifting.

Popular routes such as the Roopkund Trek and the Chadar Trek on the frozen Zanskar River are renowned for their breathtaking scenery and the sense of accomplishment they provide. Trekking in the Himalayas is best undertaken between May and October, when the weather is most favorable, allowing trekkers to fully immerse themselves in the pristine beauty of these majestic mountains.

6. River Rafting

Manali, is a hub for adrenaline junkies, thanks to its exhilarating white-water rafting opportunities. The Ganges River, revered as a goddess in Indian culture, takes on a wild and untamed form as it rushes through the foothills of the Himalayas. Rafting in Manali is not just about navigating the rapids; it's about conquering the powerful currents of the Ganges while surrounded by lush forests and towering cliffs.

Safety is paramount, and rafters are equipped with life vests, helmets, and paddles, under the guidance of experienced instructors. The best time to raft in Manali is from September to June when the river is at its most navigable. The rapids range from Grade I to Grade IV, catering to both beginners and seasoned rafters alike.

7. Bike Riding Adventure

Bike riding in Ladakh is the epitome of adventure, offering a journey through some of the most dramatic landscapes on Earth. The stark, rugged beauty of the region, with its towering mountains, winding roads, and barren plateaus, makes every ride a test of endurance and spirit. As you traverse high-altitude passes like Khardung La, one of the world’s highest motorable roads, you’re met with breathtaking vistas and an overwhelming sense of freedom.

The thin air, unpredictable weather, and challenging terrain make Ladakh a pilgrimage for avid bikers, where every turn is an exhilarating encounter with nature’s raw magnificence.

Conclusion

India’s diverse landscapes offer a wealth of opportunities for adventure, from the towering peaks of the Himalayas to the vast greenery of Kerala. Each activity, whether it’s trekking through pristine mountain trails or rafting in the depths of Manali, provides a unique way to connect with the natural world and push the boundaries of your own capabilities. As you plan your next adventure, consider the rich array of experiences that India has to offer, and prepare to embark on a journey that will challenge and inspire you.

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Cursed- 3 sister witches trilogy. Peaky Blinders

                             The 3 Sisters

A time traveling gypsy witch story in the Peakyblinder world.

  May contain adult themes. Mentions of past abuse and language. 

Prologue

The three thinly veiled women stood on the golden grassy hill overlooking Birmingham. The soft yellowing sunset casting a ray of light blinding the spectators below and haloing the three witches as they schemed and laid new plans. To a visitor they were just three gypsy women clad in finery mourning over a freshly dug grave. No tears were being shed for the grave for no one laid below it.  Just cold metal guns in wooden boxes. A fate choice that would start a chain reaction to the curse of the Shelby line. A choice that in the future would affect the DeGhant women’s bloodline horribly. 

“ So, we're all still in agreement.” Violet asked flatly. She was the eldest and had been dealt a harsh hand in life. She had wanted to time travel to the beginning to unravel the thread. She played with time and they were all stuck now, truthfully they’d all rather be stuck together anyway but goodness knows what fate awaited them here. Three modern women, unlucky in family and love. Tied together through thick and thin.  Violet sighed, waiting impatiently for an answer. Her cocoa brown hair gleaming in the sun as her royal purple veil slipped off her coiffed hair and onto her shoulders exposing her tired, lined and stone sober face. She was a lovely woman with a long taper face, light honey brown eyes that could be as warm as her soul. Her soul was however shattered and cold at the moment. A kind of tiredness that sleep can't fix. Her husband of seven years had taken their children when she was ill, “To let her rest.” four children and her husband left for a fun filled day in the car and never came back. To make matters worse the drunk driver who killed them took his own life before she could seek understanding, forgiveness or curse the wretched soul. She was truly alone in her modern life.

Her brown eyes rolled toJasmine, at 26 she was a modern woman by every sense of the word. Truth be told she was the ones the eldest and youngest worried about. Magic was nonsense but family was everything. She only dabbled if it suited her lovelife and repercussions were on everyone else, not her. She was beautiful and reckless in life, leading to stalkers and her boyfriend getting shot. Her raven hair was braided in a fishtail braid but she curled her fringe from solid pieces to frame her face. Her eyes gray like a storm and her soul matched. She might be loose but loved her sisters more than anything believing they could change fate if it were the three of them. Like Violet she wore traditional colors of reds, browns and creams. Rings adorned her fingers and her coin belt brought attention to her childbearing hips. She was ready to seduce and live. “I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t commit to the plan. No air condition, no spas……just plain old gypsy living. “ She scowled. This wasn’t her kind of life at all.  The older women turned to their twenty year old sister. “Sabrina? Are you ready?” they said in unison. The blonde girl threw her head back and laughed. It was filled with joy and light. Sabrina was always the first to start an adventure. She’d started life as the odd one out, a fair haired product of her mothers later affair. A happy child to an unhappy family. Her “Father” traveled around modern day Europe oblivious to his child or her power. Her mother long dead due to depression and yet, she pushed on, eager to create her own life and happiness. Sabrina  “Denny” DeGhant was the balm to the weary heart in the family. Her hair was tucked  up like a princess soft and billowy and a veil pinned to the back. She wore a cream veil that accented her one ocean blue eye, the other was half pale brown and half blue. A Mixture of her mutt heritage. She could see and talk to spirits making her predictions far more accurate then those around her.  She had a mission too. To heal a Shelby man with her tender heart and quiet the dead that so desperately sought his demise.  The sister joined hand and touched foreheads whispering good luck and thanks as they split in three opposite directions ready to stir up faith and change lives of those around them. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter one

No shrinking Violet. 

  Camping was never Violet’s thing. She loved to cook, bake, craft and garden, which was ironic considering she absolutely hated getting dirty. She’d set up her camp outside of a prominent gypsy encampment. She didn’t want to stir up the community yet, introduce herself in daylight and slowly work her way in with her warmth. That was her plan. What wasn’t the plan was her sucky fire making skills.  Her fire was a pathetic attempt to start something akin to dinner. She aired out her caravan after using sage and blessing it. She’d miscalculated the timing in arriving to1919. It was almost dark and her meeting with her sisters had run over. She won't have much time to cook until it gets late enough for bed. Truthfully even though she was just thirty two years of age she got tired more easily now then when she was Jasmine or Sabrina’s age. She had blamed it on her four children and husband, now she just knew it was life slowly draining her. “ Ugh, I’m never going to bed tonight!” She slammed down the stick she was using to stir the embers which seemed to roar upward with her temper.

“Tsk, you keep that up and it'll stay lit just in fear of your temper.” Violet turned the amused voice and met the eyes of Aberama Gold. She smirked, earning her an honest smile from him. The warm light spilling out the caravan showed his smile lines and kind eyes. She felt she could trust him. She cleared her throat begging her head to do the same. 

“My husband used to light the fire since I'm obviously inept at it.” She groaned and glared at the dying light. 

“Here.” The kind man took the stick off the ground and gently pushed at the flames. “ Your wood is too green, it won’t burn well.” His smile grew as her scowl deepened. She’d been in such a rush to “Fix this life” that she’d forgotten to do any real research to survive.None of this was like her at all. She was kind and well thought out. Her kitchen had labeled drawers back home and her dinner lists were planned weeks in advance. She was out of her element here. She had old coins, money and knowledge of magic to run a business but no basic life skills, her sisters were doomed since she was the responsible one. “I have some in my cart, give me a minute.��� He walked away before she could run her mouth on prices and so forth. She glanced around, darkness was now properly set astound her. Darkening blue sky with black trees silhouette the forest around her. She took a deep breath and felt a warm breeze caress her face. Their grandmother Wilimena DeGhant had always said a warm breeze was a soft caress of life. She took in the smell of clean trees as the scent wafted past her. She knew this was the right decision, even if Mala had accused her of running from the pain, sometimes you had to remove yourself to heal. She wouldn’t heal around her children's toys cluttering her living room or her sneaking to her husband's side of the closet and smelling his clothing. She knew it had been right to burn down their home sending up her broken dreams like dying prayer and smoke to heaven with them. Her attention was once again back on the cursed flames as she heard him approaching. 

“Here, I can’t leave a widow to languish away.” Mr. Gold returned and built her a real fire that would keep for the night and perhaps early morning for breakfast if she was lucky. She watched as he bent down and took his time really padding up the fire, moving rocks and shifting embers. He was content here to help her and she appreciated his soul's kindness. 

“Thank you. I’m happy to pay.” She offered in earnest and lurched forward to hand him some coins. She was surprised when he pushed her hand away gently.  He scoffed and waved her off with another brilliant smile.  

“I appreciate your help. I won’t take any more of your time away from your wife.” She smiled but faltered when his eyes darkened and his smile went tight. She recognized that look. 

Grief. Her throat tightened as her stomach lurched. She was so ill prepared. She’d known he’d remarried later but…..not what happened in between. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” Her brown eyes cast down to the ground. She could feel the tears welling up and ready to spill over.  She felt a warm hand on her cheek.

“Come now, pretty women shouldn’t cry, we're gypsies, at any rate I'm sure we can take care of one another. After all,  we’re not Lee’s. “ They both laughed, filling the warm night with some peace. 

“That's one blessing I suppose.” Her laugh was high and echoed off the trees. She looked into his kind face and saw hope. Hope for what she wasn't certain of yet….but it was better than loneliness and pain. She couldn’t take anymore pain. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Chapter one part 2

Clearly, I’m not from here.

Jasmine cursed. She’d gone in using the DeGhant name hoping for a bowl of soup and board for a dance and a reading from her tarot deck. She now had found herself married as a non Lee family traveler. 

Married. It haunted her like a bad drunk night where you called your ex and hooked up only to creep away and pray it never happened again. She was going to catch so much flack from her sisters. 

Violet would be mad that she didn't stick to the plan and she got herself entangled with someone other than the Lee’s. Their bloodline had little to no trouble. At least that was a positive. 

Sabrina would laugh and probably roll on the ground so happy her sister was entangled with another and it was an accident. She’d never live it down. 

Jasmine sighed. It was within her power to be unapologetically herself and alluring. She would regularly get marriage proposals at work dinners and events. If she didn’t get at least four proposals per party then she was slipping.  It was nothing to her but this man had literally conned her so smoothly into being his second wife, she’d truly not seen it coming. So now she had a caravan and a husband in one day.

Only her.

 This would only happen to her and to make matters worse he was insistent that his last name was Doggs. 

The teasing from her sisters would be extraordinary. She dreaded seeing them when they met next week at the graveyard. Johnny seemed nice and jovial. His first wife Esmeralda was kind hearted  and amused by her new sister's wives “bad luck.” Esmeralda was also a gypsy witch and quite a powerful one. If nothing else this marriage would give her another close witch to weave spells with.  The fire crackled and popped causing Jasmine to take in the large encampment. Her brain was starting to catch up with her. She could now ground herself to her surroundings. Navy sky broad and open encircled the rounded camp. There must be over one hundred families parked in neat little circles around raging orange and red fires. Caravans of all colors, family crests and stories carved lovingly into the wood surrounded her like a hug. She hated camping but this was more like modern RV life with no running water. She smirked knowing she’d be doing better than Violet. Violet hated getting dirty and yet she had proposed the plan to travel to 1919 and live like the  gypsies they once were. 

Jasmine wasn’t running per say. Getting away from some crazy stalkers she had P.Po’s out on was always a good thing. She was also happy that she didn’t have to poison anyone with Belladonna like her favorite movie with Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock. She was just so untethered. She barely kept jobs because she got bored. Hated living with judgemental roommates and needed space. Wow, had her life plans been flipped!

Jasmine was looking forward to a historic adventure and better contact with her ancestors' struggles.  She was book smart and street smart which made up for her untethered and reckless love lives. How many men had she left shipwrecked and stranded with their feelings as she moved on with no love in her heart. The Shelbys were not the only unlucky in love family. Jasmine understood. She laughed and felt a tear slid down her cheek before it slipped off into the dusty ground. She’d failed. She was supposed to infiltrate the Shelby betting house and their hearts, now  she was married and stuck with a good hearted man. There were worse fates she presumed. She wondered why fate had brought this unto her when they had laid such well thought out plans. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter one part 3

 Eyes of the Faye

  Sabrina Denny slipped through the dark and dingy streets of birmingham. This was no place for a girl,  let alone a gypsy one unescorted. At least that's what everyone kept murmuring and she sped walked past hoping to not bump into anyone and send herself crashing. She had an address and luckily for her, she could hypothetically get a room to rent near her target. She just had to get there before curfew. She bounded up the steps startling the people near her door. She pounded on the solid wood and cursed her breath failing her. Her asthma hated the humid weather and the smoke from the factories nearby wasn’t helping. Why couldn’t she live the caravan life. She hung over the side of the railing feeling her chest tighten like a hungry snake. She squeezed her eyes closed and muttered a quick prayer before a soft cloth slipped over her lips. Startled, she reeled back and jolted upright to keep from falling back. A lovely woman about her height stood before her smiling. “Take small breaths of fresh air love. City is no place for a wisp like you. “ The woman's lopsided smile was friendly but that gaze swept up and down. She didn’t trust her, hard brown eyes looked into her blueish ones searching for something. Sabrina nodded and pushed the older woman's hand away Gently. The elder was dressed well and her tailored coat made her look more intimidating than she needed. Sabrina knew who this was,  a famous tea leaf reader and notorious gypsy herself. Polly Grey. 

“What's an unchaperoned gypsy girl doing in a place like this pounding on a boarding house door. What could you possibly have for the money?” Her cold voice froze the girl in her tracks. She wasn’t planning on such an intimidating meeting yet. She also hadn’t even solidified her alibi yet, shit. “ Cat got your tongue? Deaf or stupid love?” The tone was amused but Sabrina didn’t know how to take this woman yet.

“Both?” She answered unsure, causing the older woman to laugh. Sabrina sighed in relief. She wasn’t an enemy yet nor an ally. At least she was amusing.

“The Scotts are visiting family in the countryside. No telling when they’ll be back. No boards are occupied as of now. “ Polly grew serious and gazed at the girl shaking her head. She was too soft for life out here. 

 Sabrina started softly crying. She hated being weak and had no plan…God, was she stupid! Sobbs started to wrack her frame as Polly grabbed at her and drugged her over to the Arrow house door. “Enough, you're making a scene. God knows I can’t just leave a girl like you out here. You’d be dead or worse by morning if it even took that long. My house isn’t much better girl, look at me, stop your crying. You're a gypsy woman for god's sake. You're tougher than you know.” Polly’s no nonsense attitude snapped her out of it. Soft sniffles filled the night as Polly cursed in Romani. “Get inside.” She snapped. Sabrina followed clutching her  bag to her chest. She looked around and followed Polly's lead upstairs. “Lord help you, not sure I’m doing you any favors. House full of men, most of them back from the war. I don’t want trouble, do you understand?” The harsh tone made Sabrina very tired but she nodded gratefully and relieved for a place to stay. Once upstairs Polly addressed her gruffly while she draped her coat over a kitchen chair. 

“What can you do?” The elder woman asked hands on her hip assessing the girl.

“I…um.I” Sabrina’s eyes were wide. She was inside the Shelby family home. In the dragon's lair and  all she could do was stumble over her words. “ I can cook, clean, tell fortunes and I’m decent at math.” She closed her eyes to keep from laughing. Why had she said she was good at math. It was 1919. No one cared if she could do math, she was a woman. 

“And how are you at keeping secrets?” Polly was challenging her. Sabrina could feel the weight of the test bearing down on her. Hopefully she wouldn't say anything stupid. She met her gaze with a steady strength. 

“I’m honestly great at keeping them. Half the time I can’t recall the secret anyway.” She’d answered honestly. Polly smiled. She’d passed the test.

“Oh my dear girl, that’s what I’m afraid of.” 

_________________________________________________________

Fits of sleep came and went. Sabrina was in and out so much she couldn’t tell if the muffled voices were distant in her dream or beside her. A slam on wood rudely awoke her causing her to sit straight up wide eyed and wild looking. Polly's hands covered her mouth and she watched the women glare at the stone-faced man. Everything about him was cold. His chiseled face, tight lips and ice cold eyes daring her to keep looking lest she drown. He crossed the room and crouched down next to her face to face as she shifted on the couch.  She reeled back a bit for space sake. A shiver ran through her. She wasn't cold due to the room temperature.

 She was told you never made aggressive eye contact with a predator, that's what he was. No kindness in his eyes as he searched her for lies. 

“Look at me.” It was a command, not a request. Her gaze flickered upwards and she inhaled sharply. “What's a good gypsy girl doing unaccompanied in Birmingham streets.” His eyebrows raised demanding ananswer she couldn’t give him.  “ Unless you aren't a good girl.” His gaze bore into her soul and her chest tightened but not due to asthma. His jaw clenched. “I asked you a question.” Sabrina remembered what Polly said.

 “ A house full of soldiers.” She muttered. Her eyes glazed over and her head shot up. She slumped forward feeling his hard shoulders tense. She could feel the power rise out of her, a cold wind and her mutterings were quick and true. She convulsed and sat up a joint of cold power shooting her up. She blinked as her breath slowed back to a normal pace. She blinked rapidly as her blue eyes came into focus on him. Thomas Shelby's gaze softened. He glanced at Polly whose mouth was hung down and her eyes wide. She closed it and shook her head at the man. His gaze hit her again and captured her soul. 

That shook her worse than his intimidation tactics. 

“You're a powerful witch, Miss Denny.” He smirked. Her blood froze.” Were in need of a witch and fortune teller to the Shelby family. I have grand plans.”  He stood up and took steps to Polly who stood frozen in place horrified by the events taking place.

“Her eyes Thomas, she has eyes of the faye.” Polly kept a stalwart watch on the girl. She was frightened. Sabrina slipped down hanging off the couch as sleep claimed her. Her power was exhausting and getting worse. She couldn’t ride it out like Jasmine or Violet. 

At least she could escape his plans for a bit. She hoped. 

Violet DeGhant and Sabrina Denny "DeGhant"

[jessicas-pi]

Another ask?! If you’re still doing them:

Road trip! (Because I know what that one is!)

Graveyards (Because I THINK I know what that one is)

Rebels Princess Bride (Because who can get enough of it really?)

YESSSS!!!

the Road Trip AU is one I've only posted about once before, but here's another bit of it!

---

“So, are we gonna find a motel, or just sleep in the Ghost again?” Hera asked, rubbing her eyes and gripping the steering wheel as they sped down the interstate.

“No offense, dear, but I don't think my back can take another night of sleeping in your station wagon,” Kanan yawned.

“Yeah?” she raised her voice, directing it to the other three in the backseat. “How about you guys?”

“Yes, please,” grumbled Zeb, Kanan's older brother, who'd wormed his way into their road trip (not that Hera was complaining, Zeb was a really sweet guy.)

Hera waited for an answer from the kids, but there was none. Glancing into the rear-view mirror, she could clearly see why—both her fiancé's son and Sabine were fast asleep, curled under a plaid picnic blanket that still had a fleck or two of grass on it.

Oh. Maybe Hera had turned the air conditioning up too high again.

-----

Graveyards and ghost towns is the sequel to November blizzards! With a lot of family fluff and a bit of angst, because I'm me

---

Ezra was back where he started, eight years ago today.

Sitting in a graveyard and trying not to cry.

It was a foggy morning, half-past five, when Maul was still asleep and he could climb out the window and run off to be alone. The mist filled up the dips in the hills, hiding the ground from sight. Some people would call it creepy or haunted, but he didn’t believe in ghosts.

What was gone was gone, and he liked it that way. It made it easier to keep moving forward.

Right?

-----

And finally, well, I have two Princess Bride AUs, but they're stored in the same doc. So here's some of TPB: Sabezra Edition.

---

The Princess turned, giving Ezra a curious look. “Father thought it would give a good impression to the people if I married a commoner.”

“Oh, I know that. Everyone heard The Prince’s announcement that both his children would be matched with low-born people. But, why me?”

Leia sighed sorrowfully. “I don’t know. If it had been up to me, I’d be marrying the stable-boy.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hm. Han, is his name. He’s seven years older than I, and he’s dreamy and infuriating and some days I want to kill him and others I think I can’t live without him. But… Father chose you. And we’re both bound by his decision. Not—” she sat up sharply, looking right at him, seeming to mistake the pain on his face for offense. “—that I dislike you. I just… don’t love you. Can’t love you. Because I loved someone else. Still do.”

“It's alright. I was only remembering. There was a blacksmith near where I grew up, and his apprentice…” Ezra trailed off, swallowing around the lump of grief in his throat. “Well, you have a stable-boy, and I had a forge-girl.”

[usafphantom2]

#onthisday in 1942 the first A-36 flew. These were P-51 Mustangs modified with bomb racks to provide close support to ground troops

@classicwarbirds via X

North American P-51 Mustang | Classic Warbirds

The story of the P-51 began in 1940 when North American Aviation President James J. Kindelberger had approached the British Purchasing Commission to sell North American Aviation's twin engined bomber, the B-25 Mitchell. However with the Royal Air Force in desperate need for fighter aircraft and the Curtiss P-40 Kittyhawk being the only aircraft coming close to the specification required for the air war in Europe and even this aircraft was only available in limited numbers. So North American Aviation was asked, under licence from Curtiss-Wright, to produce the P-40. North American Aviation felt, however, that they could have a better aircraft working quicker than it would take a production line to produce the P-40 to be set up. Whilst it was agreed for North American Aviation to supply this new aircraft instead it was required for a prototype to be ready in 120 days.

Although this looked like a tall order, North American Aviation already had a design outline for an aircraft which benefited from information from the air war in Europe. Under the leadership of Raymond Rice and Edgar Schmued the design team set about fitting the new fighters design to the specification laid out by the British. And impressively just 102 days later the prototype airframe designated NA-73X was completed, however due to the 1,100-hp Allison V-1710-39 engine, which was to power the aircraft, running behind schedule, it wasn't until a couple of months later on the 26th October 1940 when the prototype finally flew for the first time.

In a little under seven months and after a very successful testing programme the first production aircraft flew on the 1st May 1941 and six months later the Royal Air Force received the second production NA-73 for evaluation. The NA-73 had been ordered before the prototype had even flown and so more of the aircraft soon followed. Designated Mustang Mk I by the RAF, initial evaluation showed that at low-level the aircraft was fast and extremely manoeuvrable and was much better than any other American fighter then available. At higher altitude the performance of the aircraft suffered as its Allison engine power output fell rapidly as it climbed.

With eight machine-guns comprising four 0.50-in and four 0.30-in and its superb performance at low level it would be an ideal replacement for No. 26 Squadron's Curtiss P-40 Tomahawks that they were using. They began to receive their first Mustang Mk Is on the 5th January 1942 and would fly their first operation on the 5th May 1942. Other use of the aircraft saw it equip No. 2 Squadron of Army Co-Operation Command during April 1942, equipped with obliquely-mounted cameras, and on the 27th July 1942 they flew their first operational sortie. Its first aerial victory came on the 19th August 1942 during the Dieppe Raid when Flying Officer Hollis Hills of No. 414 Squadron, Royal Canadian Air Force shot down a Focke-Wulf Fw 190.

Just two months later the Mustang showed its potential for long-range escort duties when on the 22nd October 1942, on an attack on targets in Germany, it became the first Royal Air Force single-engined fighter to cross the German border from its base in Britain, however the performance of the aircraft at higher altitude still needed to be improved, but an order for another 300 aircraft was placed.

One of the conditions to allow North American Aviation to supply the Royal Air Force with its NA-73 design was that two aircraft were given to the United States Army Air Corps for evaluation under the designation XP-51. Before these two aircraft were supplied to the USAAC the United States Army had already ordered 150 more aircraft to be sent to Britain under Lend-Lease. These aircraft featured self-sealing tanks and instead of eight machine-guns featured four 20-mm cannons and were designated P-51 by the US and Mustang Mk IA by the British.

Two examples initially designated XP-78, but later XP-51B, were each tested with different engines and they proved very successful and the Royal Air Force's findings of superb performance at low-level was confirmed. However the United States was committed to the Lockheed P-38 Lightning and Republic P-47 Thunderbolt, nevertheless 500 P-51's modified to have dive brakes and bomb racks to provide close support to ground troops and designated A-36 were ordered on the 21st August 1942. The first A-36 flew on the 21st September 1942 powered by a Allison V-17110-87 engine with six 0.50-in machine-guns, they were the first Mustang variant to go into operational service with the United States Army Air Force. Equipping two groups based in the Middle East during 1943 they also performed support operations during the invasions of Sicily and Italy. As well as ordering the A-36 an order for just over 310 P-51As had been placed by the United States with armament of four 0.50-in machine-guns and racks for either 1,000lb of bombs or two of either 75 or 150 US gallon external fuel tanks, this was designated Mustang Mk II by the RAF and powered by a 1,200-hp Allison V-1710-81 engine.

After showing its ability for potential long-range escort duties into Germany, but lacking high-altitude performance, during 1942 the decision was taken to install Rolls-Royce Merlin 61 and 65 engines in four airframes of the Mustang Mk I. Testing showed a much improved performance and North American Aviation were informed of the results and a 1,430-hp US-built Packard Merlin V-1650-3 engine was installed into two P-51s, these would be designated XP-78/XP-51B. Tested during September 1942 and achieving a maximum speed of 441 mph and having a better rate of climb than the P-38 Lighting, and confirming the British findings, the United States Army Air Force, impressed with the performance, ordered the Merlin powered Mustang in large numbers.

P-51B and P-51Cs, which featured a strengthened fuselage, improved ailerons and a number of small changes, to accommodate the new engine, and armament of four 0.50-in machine-guns, began to enter operational service with the United States Army Air Force in Britain as part of the Eighth Air Force. The 13th October 1943 saw this new aircraft complete its first long-range escort mission when a force of bombers were sent to attack the U-boat yard at Kiel, Germany. The P-51, with the benefit of external fuel tanks, would provide regular escort for bombers of the Eighth Air Force, during their perilous daylight operations deep into the heart of Germany. During March 1944 the P-51 took part in its first mission to Berlin and started being used operationally by both the 10th and 15th Air Force in Burma and Italy respectively. The Royal Air Force also started to receive their Lend-Lease P-51B/P-51Cs, designated Mustang Mk III, around the same time and No. 19 Squadron based at RAF Ford were the first to receive this new type, which would eventually be used by at least 21 RAF squadrons, many of which were part of the Second Tactical Air Force. The RAF modified the original cockpit canopy which opened sideways to a sliding hood design to overcome the poor rear view of the original canopy design.

Development of the aircraft continued and the next production version was the P-51D, with a modified rear fuselage, six 0.50-in machine-guns and a bubble canopy as standard, this was to become the most produced version of the P-51. Later versions of the P-51D had a small dorsal fin added and racks to accommodate 5-in rocket projectiles. A change in propeller led to a change in designation to P-51K, and both of these aircraft were designated Mustang Mk IV and Mustang Mk IVA respectively by the Royal Air Force.

During 1944 as part of experiments into lightweight construction the United States Army Air Force had ordered three XP-51Fs and two XP-51Gs as part of this process. A new redesigned airframe was also produced and as a result of an overview of the aircraft a new low drag section of wing replaced the laminar-flow design, the oil cooler was also replaced with a heat exchanger and the cockpit canopy was stretched to reduce drag further. With a simpler structure and the removal of equipment no longer deemed necessary and the use of new lightweight materials being used a significant reduction in the aircraft's weight was achieved. Both prototypes were powered by different engines with a 1,695-hp Packard Merlin V-1650-7 engine powering the XP-51F and a 1,140-hp Rolls-Royce Merlin 145m engine powering the XP-51G. Two P-51J prototypes of a similar design were ordered, however only one was finished and this would be powered by a Allison V-1710-119, 1,720-hp engine.

As a result of the prototypes the P-51H appeared, flying for the first time on the 3rd February 1945, powered by the V-1650-0 Packard Merlin engine, this was to be both the last production P-51 and the fastest with a top speed of 487 mph. Further improvements had been made to the aircraft and as a result the aircraft was 40% lighter than the last P-51 in wartime service, the P-51D.

Another permutation of the P-51 was the P-82 Twin Mustang which was two aircraft merged together, however this didn't see service in the Second World War (1939 – 1945).

Technical Details

Click on the aircraft image to view a larger version.

Top Speed Range Service Ceiling Armament

Mustang Mk I 382 mph 1,000 miles 31,350 ft four 0.50-in machine-guns

four 0.30-in machine-guns

A-36 365 mph 550 miles 25,150 ft six 0.50-in machine-guns

1,000lb bombs

P-51 390 mph 1,050 miles 32,000 ft four 20mm cannons

P-51A 390 mph 750 miles 31,350 ft four 0.50-in machine-guns

two 500lb bombs

P-51B 439 mph 1,180 miles 41,800 ft four 0.50-in machine-guns

and either two 1,000lb bombs or

rocket projectiles

P-51B side profile image

P-51C 438 mph 949 miles 42,000 ft four 0.50-in machine-guns

two 500lb bombs

P-51D 437 mph 1,000 miles 41,900 ft six 0.50-in machine-guns

and either two 1,000lb bombs or

six 5-in rocket projectiles

P-51D side profile image

XP-51F Lightweight version, three built.

XP-51G Lightweight version,, two built.

P-51H 487 mph 855 miles 41,320 ft six 0.50-in machine-guns

and either two 1,000lb bombs or

rocket projectiles

XP-51J Modified XP-51F.

P-51K 437 mph 1,180 miles 41,780 ft six 0.50-in machine-guns

and either two 1,000lb bombs or

rocket projectiles

P-51L Improved P-51H with new engine, only one built.

P-51M Improved P-51H with new engine, only one built.

A grand total of 15,576 P-51s were built by the time production ended, seeing service with China, Netherlands and a few were also supplied to the American Volunteer Group in China. The end of the war didn't see the end of the aircraft, as it remained in service with the United States Air Force, although under a different designation of F-51, until the 27th January 1957 when a F-51D, from the 167th Fighter Bomber Squadron, performed the types last flight with the USAF. In fact the last P-51 was retired from the Dominican Air Force in 1984.

[helmetkeeper]

https://www.tumblr.com/soldier-requests/742779174051364864/hello-can-i-ask-for-a-playlist-for-a?source=share

hello, sorry for not specifying. nothing from a certain media, the kintype in general. but if a character can help with it, something like Barbatos from obey me!, but I don't kin him. he isn't stated as a realitywarper anyway-

and about songs.. things like Six Forty Seven by insupendo ; Solitude from Candlemass and Vermillion by Slipknot?

thank you for your hardwork :). [please tag @orderling when you're done.]

hello!! okay i gotcha now, thanks for clarifying; hopefully you like whatever i ended up finding ^_^.

and thank you! i appreciate the compliment :]].

(@orderling)

under a cut because this one's pretty long XD.

songs go like "song" + "artist"

dividers from @/just-my-latest-hyperfixation and @/baexywth

"Falling" + "Instupendo"

"128" + "machingum"

"This Could Build Us a Home" + "The Garden"

"Where Is My Mind" + "Safari Riot" and "Grayson Sanders"

"Vanished" + "Crystal Castles"

"Suffer With Me" + "líue"

"LOVELY BASTARDS" + "ZWE1HVNDXR" and "yatashigang"

"Catalysts for Her Awakening" + "Avith Ortega"

"Insidious" + "joseph bishara"

"The Sound Of Your Fear" + "Midi Blossom"

"Key" + "C418"

"It's Playtime" + "MOB Games"

"Browser History" + "Graham Kartna"

"A Burning Memory" + "Reece Moseley"

"warm nights" + "Xori"

"Lavender Town" + "8-Bit Arcade"

"Lavender Town" + "Bitmaster"

"you not the same" + "TileKid"

"Judah's Lullaby" + "REPULSIVE"

"Kyomi's Lullaby" + "REPULSIVE"

"バラック集落" (In English: "Barrack Settlements" or "Barracks") + "Kikiyama"

"PP1" + "Frakkur"

"Deep Swim" + "Windows 96"

"Sony" + "VHS LOGOS"

"Implanted Memories" + "Infinity Frequencies"

"The descent" + "Infinity Frequencies"

"Agony" (Instrumental) + "Scammacist"

"Echoes of Tranquility" + "Nocturne"

"Stars Will Fall" + "Duster"

"Choking on Flowers" + "Fox Academy"

"Dust Collector" + "YG Hypnos"

"Memoir #02 [06.12.09]" + "Maria Pseftoga" and "May Roosevelt"

"The Lobotomy" + "Maebi"

"Year Zero" + "Ghost"

"Con Clavi Con Dio" + "Ghost"

"Prime Mover" + "Ghost"

"Call Me Little Sunshine" + "Ghost"

"The Killer in My Skull" + "Alastor"

"I'll Cut You Down" + "Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats"

"Them!" + "Acid Mammoth"

"Strong Reflection" + "Mars Red Sky"

"Prehistoric Dog" + "Red Fang"

"The Culling" + "Chelsea Wolfe"

"Christ is Dead" + "Crypt Sermon"

"Beneath the Torchfire Glare" + "Crypt Sermon"

"Mare of the Night" + "Below"

"The Coven" + "Below"

"Seeds of the Desolate" + "Solitude Aeturnus"

"Fallen Empire" + "Dawn Of Winter"

"Ragnaradi Eve" + "Scald"

"In the Open Sea" + "Scald"

"Black Colossus" + "Funeral Circle"

"Scion of Infinity" + "Funeral Circle"

"Spiritus Mortis" + "I Am a Name on Your Funeral Wreath"

"Lost Horizons" + "Memento Mori"

"The Sword Woman" + "Smoulder"

"The Poltergeist" + "Count Raven"

"Beyond the Horizon" + "Isole"

"Among the Exalted" + "Godthrymm"

"Wolf God" + "Grand Magus"

"Here Be Monsters" + "Apocalypse Orchestra"

"Bring Me To Life" + "Evanescence"

"Break Stuff" + "Limp Bizkit"

"Bodies" + "Drowning Pool"

"Down with the Sickness" + "Disturbed"

"Yuve Yuve Yu" + "The HU"

"Up to the Flames" + "Ludovico Technique"

"Framed In Blood" (Remastered 2006) + "The 69 Eyes"

"Heavy Lies The Crown" + "In Fear And Faith"

"Last Man Stranded" + "In Fear And Faith"

"A Fire On A Hill" + "Hands Like Houses"

"Let Me In" + "Dead Silence Hides My Cries"

"Murder Mitten" + "I See Stars"

"Melancholia" + "Dark Sarah"

"Every Little Thing" + "Dishwalla"

"The Air-Conditioned Nightmare" + "Mr. Bungle"

"The Diary Of Jane" + "Breaking Benjamin"

"Truth" + "Seether"

"Woohoo" + "Fleshwater"

"Waking the Demon" + "Bullet For My Valentine"

"Orchid" (Remastered 2014) + "Black Sabbath"

"Neon Knights" (Remastered 2008) + "Black Sabbath"

"Holy Diver" + "Dio"

"Rainbow in the Dark" + "Dio"

"Anesthesia" + "Type O Negative"

"Nettie" + "Type O Negative"

"Love You to Death" + "Type O Negative"

"Haunted" (Per Version) + "Type O Negative"

"Rev 22-20" + "Puscifer"

"Dragonaut" + "Sleep"

[inexplicablymine]

have a good flight beas

i need to know about 22 (i think lol)

Hiiii thank you, the flight was an absolute mess but I have landed now so all’s well that ends well.

#22 (beast I’m an animal)

So there is actually some fun Beas lore behind this one.

I went to an outdoor adventure camp for about 6 or 7 summers growing up called Beast Camp. We were trucked out into the wilderness on some camp grounds where we took over a small hill in a cinder block building painted over in a layer of cracked baby blue. There was no air conditioning, and the majority of the days were spent hiking, canoeing, kayaking, swimming, learning about all of the poisonous creatures we might (and did encounter) looking for mountain lion tracks, (and finding them + the cow sculls), switching lunches, learning how to “do” the outdoors, and in general being tiny terrors.

They are some of my most fond and valued memories and I cherish them greatly.

As for the fic ~ firstprince childhood friends to enemies to lovers over a series of seven summers from when they are 11 to when they are 18. SUMMER CAMP BABY.

(WIP ask game)

[miqenergy]

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