#city of evansville

[pencilscratchins]

I totally agree about Indiana but, Gary Indiana is a gate to heck. Change my mind

i’ve seen truly perplexing things in gary indiana. things that just make you say “indiana. the state that works.”

[doueverwonder]

as the ceo of fankids no one should be surprised that I'm making city oc's to be IndiBama's kids >:]

[janaem]

Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is chapter 1 (Entranced) | Chapter 2 (Wish)

Synopsis: She never imagined that she would once again be drawn into the enchanting world of fictional characters, a place she had not ventured into for many years. However, on a warm summer Saturday night, everything changed as she found herself captivated by the enigmatic goblin king, Jareth, while watching the mesmerizing film "Labyrinth." Word count: 5.4k (20 pages)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing and arguments

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

For visual purposes, here is the house you are living in.

Author note: It's sure been a while since I wrote something as long as this. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter as much as I did! I don't intend for this to be a slow burn, but I'm sure not rushing to the climax either. Things will definitely start to progress in the chapters to come at a reasonable pace since I'm aiming for this to be only a few chapters. I will also be publishing this on ao3 and wattpad:)

The dusk was calm, and the only movements were the swaying of the trees in the warm midsummer breeze. The dark green leaves of the trees fell sporadically on the fresh pavement street of Evansville. It is a typical upper-middle-class suburb located on the outskirts of the great city, beyond its beautiful lake. During the summer, Evansville is usually bustling with life. Kids can be seen racing on their scooters while their parents watch from the front lawn of their craftsman and single-family-style homes. Teenagers speed down Sherhigh Avenue by the Lakefront with their windows rolled down, blasting music and singing the lyrics. The beaches are always full from morning till nearly midnight.

Nestled close to the tranquil lakefront was Nordstin Street, which exuded an air of a close community feel. From afternoon till night, the neighborhood was painted with playful children and their parents' laughter on their lawns, the jingle of ice cream trucks, and frequent splashes from small backyard pools.

But once dusk faded away, it was different. The winds picked up abruptly around four thirty and leaves started dancing in a choreographed frenzy while flower petals broke free from their delicate confines. The windows of these sturdy homes rattled, adding a discordant note to the chaos. The tides of the lake were more than violent, threatening to engulf anything in their path. The crashing waves against the cluster of boulders are reminiscent of clashing symbols. 

In the heart of Nordstin, a grand single-family home exudes warmth and elegance. The gray fiber cement exterior, adorned with white accents, perfectly complements the intricately decorated gray brick roof. The beautiful porch is a work of art, supported by sturdy white stone pillars, making it both practical and stunning.

In the vast living room downstairs, an eighteen-year-old, Y/n,  lounged on the cream sectional sofa, surrounded by plush beige pillows of varying textures. With one pillow snug against her torso, she tuned into the news forecast, her gaze fixed on the screen as she observed the latest updates.

The male news reporter's voice filled the room, his words a solemn warning. "The winds are blowing at 26 miles per hour," he announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. "It's best to stay home if you don't need to be outside, especially away from water." 

Suddenly, a harsh voice from the kitchen shatters the tranquility, disrupting Y/n's peace of mind.

Y/n’s mother, m/n, walked urgently from the kitchen and halted at the entrance of the living room, wearing an unpleasant expression. She holds a meticulously cleaned empty Tupperware container in her left hand. 

“Y/n,  did you eat the last of the lasagna?” She asked, shaking the container so it was brought to Y/n’s attention. 

Y/n looked over at her displeased mother and replied dryly, "Yeah."

Her mother gives her a repulsed look, “Why? What makes you think it’s okay to eat up everything in this house and not leave anything left for anyone?” 

Y/n gave her a look of offense, sitting up from her leisure posture, her voice remained level, “Those were the only leftovers I ate. And you told me that I could  help myself to whatever I wanted today.”  

“That doesn’t mean you eat a whole thing of lasagna, Y/n. You can’t always think about yourself!” 

“It wasn’t even half of a container mom, relax.” 

“Don’t tell me to relax. I know what was in there.”

“Can you please stop yelling?” 

“I’m not yelling! This is how I talk.”

Already feeling fatigued from the ongoing conversation, Y/n released a small, exhausted sigh, grabbed the remote, and switched from the news channel in search of something else to ease her mind.

However, the fuming woman continued, “You could’ve called me asking if you could save me some because that is a lot for one person.”

“It wasn’t.” Y/n had completely given up.

“Okay, Y/n,” m/n scoffed, walking back into the kitchen, “This is ridiculous, you think about nobody else but yourself.  Your dad and I are already paying for your college, and the least you can do is not act selfish all the time!”

Y/n turned up the volume of the television, finally finding a show that piqued her interest. Unfortunately, she could still hear the immature mutters of her mother’s complaints.

“It’s all about Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…never thinking about anyone else…that’s sad…this is ridiculous!...eat something healthy…never seen anything like it…eighteen years old…”

“So fucking extra,” Y/n huffed, turning down the volume of the television. She throws the pillow from where it landed with the other pile of pillows on the couch and walks up to her room, considering watching a movie there instead. Maybe she’ll Facetime her friend to vent about how unbearable her mom was acting again. 

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n and her mother to engage in disputes, which seemed to arise almost daily, creating an atmosphere of constant tension. By now, Y/n was used to it, maintaining a more composed demeanor. However, there are times when she'll mirror or even exceed her mother's outbursts. Their relationship wasn't entirely negative, but it was far from fulfilling. As for her father, Y/n's connection with him was characterized by neutrality with a more manageable dynamic. He was currently on a trip with her uncle and a few friends at Turks & Caicos and won’t be back for another five days.

Y/n walked into her room, paying no attention to the insistent buzzing of her phone on her eider white desk. She sank into her plush queen-sized bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, and disappeared under the soft covers, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

She didn't want to get too hot under the covers in her oversized hoodie, so she shifted to a more upright position, reached under a nearby pillow, retrieved the remote, and switched on the television. The clock on the top right-hand corner of the starting page displayed 9:45 pm. She then clicked on one of the streaming apps and started browsing through the movies, uncertain of her current mood.

Y/n, with a deep appreciation for classic films, gravitated towards the 80s-90s subcategory. The screen was filled with a vibrant array of movie covers competing for her attention. As she scrolled through the seemingly endless list of movies, Y/n's eyes eagerly scanned the colorful and nostalgic offerings.

She scrolled through rows and rows of movies of all kinds, eventually getting bored and heading over to the sidebar for a better selection. There, subcategories of the 80s and 90s movies appeared: Action, Romance, Documentary, thriller…

Fantasy.

It has been a while since Y/n watched any fantasy-related films, especially older ones with effects that she found to be somewhat uncoordinated and eerie. However, curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on it, and a series of other subcategories dropped down: Animation, Fairy Tale, Steampunk, Vampires...

Cult films.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the name, “Cult?” she whispered as if she was sounding it out for the first time.

As she clicked on the remote, a rush of warmth and excitement filled her chest. Her eyes eagerly scanned the screen, searching for a familiar movie. Despite having watched The Neverending Story countless times, she scrolled past it along with other movies like The Dark Crystal, Short Circuit, Big Trouble in Little China, and The Goonies. 

Yet, an inexplicable urge drove her to keep searching. After a few more minutes, she suddenly paused, as if an unseen force prevented her thumb from clicking the arrow button, and her gaze settled on a movie she had never come across before.

Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

Y/n felt an overwhelming and unexplainable sensation coursing through her body as she gazed at the movie cover and its title. It seemed to evoke a powerful wave of nostalgia, captivating her as she fixed her eyes on the glowing screen.

She clicked on the movie, reading its summary.

“Sixteen-year-old Sarah is given thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her baby brother Toby when her wish for him to be taken away is granted by the Goblin King Jareth.”

“Poor girl,” Y/n commented as she pressed play, where the credits roll while a white barn owl flies around. Her dog, D/n, shoved the door open with their nose and climbed into bed with her, lying at her legs.

Y/n was captivated by the film's cinematic elements and grainy aesthetic. In particular, she found the character Sarah Williams, to be incredibly gorgeous. Despite her beauty and gentle appearance, Y/n observed that Sarah's behavior didn't align, from her furious stomping into the house to her tendency to catastrophize minor inconveniences. 

Y/n grimaced at the first appearance of the goblins, all jumbled up as they awoke from their slumber. Their raspy and grating voices matched their grotesque appearances.  When they emerged in the bedroom after Sarah's brother went missing, they appeared in various parts of the room--- under the bedsheets, inside closets, behind the door. Sarah looked around frantically, unable to catch a break. Then, suddenly, the same white barn owl from the movie's beginning barges into the room through the balcony doors and lunges at Sarah. Startled, Sarah shields her eyes, and then a human shadow emerges at Sarah's feet.

The once barn owl had been mystically transformed into a human being. Y/n took in his lithe stature, which stood in a way that excluded flamboyance and regal confidence. His long, dark, and dramatic coat, adorned with intricate designs and embellishments, billowed in the wind as he made his captivating presence known on screen.

"You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King." 

The Goblin King tilts his head, offering Sarah a proud smirk. Y/n couldn't help but notice his untamed, tousled blond locks that framed his face, enhancing his unconventional and otherworldly allure.

"Sarah…go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."

His voice flowed like honey, smooth and melodious. Y/n had heard that voice before, possessed by others, yet the Goblin King made it uniquely captivating with its rich, velvety timbre.

"I've brought you a gift."

"It's a crystal, nothing more."

The Goblin King outstretched his gloved hand, and a translucent ball appeared out of thin air. Y/n's eyebrows raised in awe as he effortlessly juggled it about his hands in a way she'd never seen before. It rolled from one hand to another, from his fingertips to the palm of his hand.

"But if you turn it this way and look into it, it'll show you your dreams."

As the film played, Y/n was entirely captivated by the intricate and fantastical journey unfolding before her. She couldn't help but admire Sarah's courageous interactions with the strange and repulsive creatures, except the adorable worm at the beginning. Fairies, goblins, and monsters filled the screen, leaving Y/n in awe of the film's grungy artistry.

She started taking a liking to Hoggle, although he is a coward, he truly cared for Sarah and her wellbeing, which is the type of friend that anyone could need in such desperate times.  However, above all the characters Y/n found remarkable, the enigmatic Goblin King, Jareth, captured her attention every time he appeared.

The ballroom scene, in particular, mesmerized Y/n, watching as Jareth's intense yet affectionate gaze lingered on Sarah in a way that set Y/n's nerves ablaze, leaving her breathless. Amidst the dancing figures and smooth song, Y/n couldn't help but imagine herself in Sarah's place, enveloped in the lingering sensation of Jareth's possessive regard.  

As she watched, a soft sigh escaped her parted lips, tinged with wistfulness. She pondered what it would be like to be looked upon with such desire in a crowded room, to be longed by someone you secretly desired, as you sought them out in the hopes of meeting their eyes again. She briefly fantasized about being in Sarah's place, feeling the electricity of Jareth's presence, drawing her closer every second.

Y/n's growing desires and anticipation danced amongst the sea of masked faces and whispered secrets. What would it feel like to be carefully handled the way Jareth did Sarah at that moment as she nearly lost herself in his eyes? She wondered this throughout the rest of the film, as the last scene with Jareth played on screen.

“Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

A sickening sweet feeling aroused in the very heart of Y/n’s chest, causing her breath to abruptly become shallow as if it were her first time trying to breathe. Eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, she took in the lithe being presented on screen in front of her. Everything in her room surrounding her began to fall and fade away—all she could see was him. 

“Yes,” she subconsciously whispered, “say yes.”

“You have no power over me.” Sarah’s voice rang triumphantly, as the goblin king gave in, taking the form in his owl self once again.

As the film came to a close and the end credits started rolling, Y/n sank further into her pillows and covers. 

“I feel like there should’ve been more to the film,” she said to herself, “something’s missing. I’m not satisfied.”

D/n stirred in their sleep, not paying mind to a work y/n just said. The girl sighed, seizing the remote once more to watch something different.

That was until the door flew open and her moments of peace were shattered once again by the sharpness of m/n’s tone.

“Why didn’t you help me with dinner,”  she questioned, “let alone, make dinner?”

“It’s too late for dinner,” Y/n replied, “plus I’m not hungry.”

“So, you disregard everyone else in the house after you ate two servings of lasagna?”

“I guess so.” Y/n deadpanned, refusing to fuel the fire with the rebuttal about the lasagna being enough for one person. 

“Unbelievable,”  M/n huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room, “your room’s a mess.”

“Okay.” Y/n replied dismissively.

“No, I’m being serious, Y/n. You’re going to have a roommate in college and I sure hope you two get along through all this mess.” Her mother turned on the lights abruptly, waking up d/n and irritating Y/n. 

“Mom, what the heck,” Y/n fumed, getting out of her bed, and rushing to the wall to turn off the lights, the room went dark once again, “It’s eleven o’clock!”

“I expect you to get up tomorrow and clean this room,”  m/n declared, walking to the food frame, “I’m going to bed, and I want you to think about ways you can use your time more productively.”

Before y/n could fire back, M/n was already gone, shutting the lights of her room off. 

The eighteen-year-old girl couldn't catch a break even before bedtime. M/n, while not overly strict, had this unspoken rule that Y/n should just think like her. It led to endless clashes between them, leaving Y/n feeling weighed down.

Talking to friends helped a bit, but the constant disagreements with M/n still felt like a heavy burden on Y/n's chest. Trying to find common ground with someone who seemed to see the world differently was tough, and Y/n knew there was little to do about it.

"It'll all be over in a few months," Y/n told herself while she returned to her bed, submerging into the covers once more, turning off the television, and falling into a deep sleep, searching for peace of mind.

It was well into the morning when Y/n woke up to the sound of a mourning dove, the clock just nearing 10:45 am. She knew her mother was already awake, perhaps reading a book and having breakfast in her room. She planned to say good morning to her later.

D/n, who was once at the foot of her bed, was now propped up, wagging their tail in excitement to see Y/n, who smiled as she melted into the dog’s soft and loving gaze as she ruffled their fur. 

Y/n decided that this morning she would clean up her room and place all the unnecessary things in a giveaway bag. She immediately went downstairs, grabbed a garbage bag and a glass of water, and rushed back upstairs to get to work in her considerably well-kept room.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this so she wouldn’t be greeted by a nagging mother.

D/n remained on the bed, peering over at Y/n curiously as she continued. Y/n opened the cabinet of her desk and began rummaging through items she’d touched in recent months, setting aside everything except for one particular item. Tucked away at the back of the stacks of read novels and old workbooks rested a pristine bin.

She tossed the workbooks aside, intending to dispose of them, and placed the novels on top of her desk next to her computer, calendar, and another smaller stack of books. She then reached for the bin she hadn’t seen in over a few years. It was a simple clear plastic bin with a turquoise lid.

As she eagerly lifted the lid, a rush of nostalgia engulfed her senses. Beneath the lid lay a jumble of crumpled lined papers adorned with intricate drawings, stacked on top of older notebooks, comics, and mangas, which in turn rested upon other well-loved books from her middle school days. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories that Y/n found impossible to resist. Without hesitation, she reached for the first item on top - a character sheet.

Growing up, Y/n's love for storytelling and creativity knew no bounds. She had especially displayed a remarkable talent for crafting complex characters and their elaborate backstories. While progressing in her budding artistic skills, her true passion lay in building and immersing herself in fantastical worlds. She was engrossed in the worlds of anime, mangas, and fiction which surpassed the typical interests of children her age. Her mind was a treasure trove of knowledge, brimming with insights into various fandoms, literary works, and both contemporary and classic fantasy films.

“No way!” she chuckled, flipping through a notebook full of her drawings of characters she’d seen in anime along with anime characters she'd made up. Each page was adorned with meticulous side notes containing non-canon theories, potential romantic head-canons, and intricately woven backstories that she had crafted from her boundless imagination.

As Y/n spent the next twenty minutes soaring down memory lane, she felt a sinking in her chest, leaving her feeling empty and yearning for that same sense of creativity to ignite within her once again.

She continued sifting through the pile of memories until she reached the bottom, where she found a black velvet notebook with plain white pages. Upon picking it up, she discovered that it was empty. Feeling a bit disappointed, she placed all the objects back into the bin, carefully arranging them in the small compartment.

As she did so, she recalled the various stories she had created in the past - witches, vampires, fairies, and superheroes. She especially missed the sense of accomplishment she felt upon completing each small project, as well as the innocent crushes developed on fictional characters from specific scenes and fan fiction.

Y/n missed how she didn't have a care in the world between what was real and what was fake.

She got up and ascended the stairs once more with the garbage bin at hand and placed it at the bottom of the back door. She figured that once her father came back he’d drive it over to the Salvation Army warehouse. She walked into the kitchen welcomed by the blaring sound of the blender her mom was using to make a smoothie. 

M/n stopped the blender and poured some of the smoothie into a glass cup, handing it to Y/n with a “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Y/n replied, taking a small sip of the berry enriched smoothie, “how did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept fine,” M/n replied, unplugging the blender and setting it aside on the kitchen’s white valley granite countertop, “the bed feels empty without your dad in it.”

“I’m sure.” Y/n agreed leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

“Did you sleep alright?” M/n asked.

Y/n nodded.

“Good,” M/n noted, about to sip her smoothie once more; she then stopped, “Where’s D/n?”

“Upstairs,” Y/n replied.

“You should always take your dog out for a walk in the morning.” M/n inputted, setting her smoothie down.

“I know, but she was asleep and I was cleaning my room and disposing of things I didn’t need.”

“So, you were up this entire time and didn’t bother to walk your dog or make us any breakfast?”

Y/n studied her mother’s furrowed expression, not sure of what to say.

“Your room would have waited, Y/n. You need to start—”

“Mom, I don’t wanna hear it, it’s too early.” Y/n interrupted, feeling her boiling blood course through her veins.

M/n disregarded her daughter's advances, “It’s nearly noon, Y/n and we’ve barely eaten. I need you to start thinking and be able to multitask and take the initiative. What you’re doing right now won’t get you far in your career.”

Y/n had heard M/n repeat this thousands of times, using as many things to say back in previous times, Y/n was now worn out. 

“Whatever.” She uttered making her way to the kitchen’s exit.

“Excuse me?” M/n’s tone was sharper now.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Y/n, I tell you these things so you can become more mature. The behavior has gotten too far. You’re eighteen years old and it’s ridiculous the way you act at such a grown age. I constantly have to repeat myself—”

“Then don’t,” Y/n argued.

“Then give me a reason not to,” M/n fired back, “I’ve never seen your age treat her mother the way you do and act selfishly and dismissively.”

Y/n sighed, “This is so unnecessary. All of this over breakfast.”

“You belittle everything, Y/n. Grow up.”

“You can relax now.”

“Grow up.”

“Telling me to grow up won’t do anything.” 

“What I’m saying, sweetie is that you–”

“Okay, mom. I get it. I’ll do better.” Y/n surrendered, not wanting to ignite the flame any further. She was already getting a sickening feeling in her stomach.

She exited the kitchen and rushed up the stairs and back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She set her smoothie down on her desk and paced her room feeling a lump forming in her throat. 

“It’s like she always has to start a problem no matter what I do!” She hiccuped feeling her eyes sting with tears. 

“Can’t she just let me live for once, God, for fucking once!” 

Tears streamed down her face, hanging at her chin, she looked outside at the clear blue sky with the sun well overhead.

“Y/n! Walk your dog!” Her mother yelled from downstairs.

“Okay!” Y/n’s seething voice cracked, “shut up.” she muttered sniffling.

“Now!”

“Give me a minute!”

More tears started spilling down Y/n’s face. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly, continuing to look out her window, which was only a few feet away. Her heart was aching, and her throat was twisted in a knot of sorrow; her chest heaved with exhaustion. She started to cry harder after she attempted to swallow her tears; she knew M/n was going to notice her tear-stricken face. 

Y/n grabbed her phone and trudged over to her bed and plopped down on her back, sighing in defeat. She figured that before she walked D/n she would at least distract herself from the pang of sorrow that knocked at her chest. 

She opened her web browser and typed in “labyrinth 1986,” and thousands of search results appeared, including links to websites, articles, videos, and even books and comics.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she clicked on the first image that showed the same book with a striking red cover that Sarah had been carrying at the park.

“No way, there’s an official novelization of the labyrinth,” she gasped as she further searched. To her surprise, there were comics and mangas as well.

The pain Y/n was feeling suddenly subsided, replaced by a sense of wonder and excitement as she eagerly read through the summaries and reviews for each comic, book, and archived piece available.

“Finally back in print and for the first time in hardcover is the novelization of LABYRINTH written by A.C.H. Smith and personally overseen by Jim Henson. This is the first in a series of novels from the Jim Henson Archives.”

“Labyrinth: Coronation is a 12-issue comic book series written by Simon Spurrier and illustrated by Daniel Bayliss, published by Archaia from 2018 to 2019. It is a prequel to the 1986 film Labyrinth that takes place in 18th-century Venice and tells the story of how Jareth became the Goblin King.”

“You’re lying” Y/n muttered, enticed by the various series of books presented before her, she clicked on the official novelization first, seeing that it was available in her local bookstore for $30, seeing that there was only one in stock, she made a reservation to pick it up today on her walk with D/n.

“I have to have it.” She said putting in her online payment, which had been successfully authorized. 

Thank you for your purchase! The book you have requested will be available within 20 minutes. You have two days to pick it up.

“Oh, shit I gotta go.” Y/n gasped frantically getting out of her bed. She rushed to her closet and grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a simple scoop navy blue cami top, throwing on white socks. She grabbed her mini purse with her wallet inside and made her way down the stairs, D/n  followed.

“I’m going to the library, D/n is coming with me,” Y/n said as she passed the living room where M/n sat on her computer. 

“Okay. Take the car of course.” M/n replied in deep concentration on whatever was on screen. 

Y/n unlatched the garage door, the sound of its metal creaking filling the air as she stepped inside. She slipped on her comfortable slides and made her way to her car, with D/n following closely behind her. The afternoon sun poured into the garage as she settled into the driver's seat, and D/n took their place in the passenger seat. Y/n rolled down the windows, feeling the warm summer breeze on her skin as she carefully reversed out of the garage and onto the driveway.

She made her way down Nordstin Street, making a right onto Seems Street, she marveled at the vibrant activity around her, knowing that the lakefront was only a couple of streets away. It was nearly one o’clock, and the streets were alive with the energy of people going about their day.

It didn't take long before Y/n reached the library. Finding a snug parking spot near the entrance.

She turned to D/n, letting all the windows up, leaving the passenger’s side slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back, the window will be cracked for you,” she said leaning in and giving her sweet dog a peck on the nose.

She quickly exited the car and walked up to the library and opened the dark wooden doors, where she paid no attention to her surroundings as she marched straight to the front desk, which was occupied by a lady cashier. They greeted each other warmly.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I purchased Jim Henson’s Labyrinth today.” She spoke clearly. 

As the lady behind the counter heard Y/n's request, she paused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she searched for the book. With a few swift clicks to confirm the order, she leaned down and carefully retrieved the treasure Y/n had sought. The rich, crimson book with the elegant golden title "Labyrinth" embossed on its cover was presented before the younger girl, its allure captivating her gaze.

“You’re all set Miss L/n, have a good day!” She chirped sweetly. 

“You too!” Y/n returned as she made her way to the front door, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation as she made her way back to the car. Luckily, there was a park just across the street from the library.

Y/n opened the car door and let D/n out, the leash making a jingling sound as the dog shook its fur. Y/n shut the door and grabbed hold of the leash, holding the book in another hand and the two made their way to Gillson Park.

Gillson Park was one of the more popular parks in Evansville because it was known for its stunning natural landscapes that are cherished by both locals and visitors alike. Characterized by lush greenery, serene ponds reflecting the sky, and winding walking trails on steep hills. Tall trees provide a cool respite from the summer sun, while colorful blossoms add vibrancy to the surroundings. Many may describe it as a meadow away from the bustling suburban life. 

Y/n found a nice bench by an open field, letting D/n’s leash to wander about the grass and flowers. She propped herself so that she was lying across the bench comfortably, her elbow resting on the arms of the bench. She opened the first page and began to embark on her reading journey.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen.” She read aloud, attempting to capture the determination in Sarah’s voice, she chuckled to herself.   

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…”

An Owl glided over the sky unnoticed as it emerged amongst Gillson Park. A creature of pure elegance in the backdrop of the midday scenery. His plumage, a pristine canvas of a bold white, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence, catching the last rays of the afternoon sun like a cascade of fire woven into feathers. He settled on a branch of the tree that was hovered over Y/n, as she continued to focus on the compelling words in the book. 

His large, dark eyes were fixed on her as she sat with rapt concentration. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes moved swiftly across the crisp, white pages. Her hands were holding the book motionless on the crimson red cover as if she was hesitant to disturb the stillness of the moment.

The Owl’s trance was interrupted by the barking of D/n, his heart shaped head turned to the direction of the galloping dog making its way to Y/n, who looked up from her book, set it on her lap, and petted D/n softly.

“This is a good book so far, D/n,” she said with a smile, “I appreciate its detail.” she leaned down and ruffled the dog’s fur, smothering her pet with the love and affection they deserved. 

Unbeknownst to them, the owl had been silently observing Y/n's every move from the highest branch of the nearby tree. Y/n shut the book and got up from the bench to grab D/n's leash. As Y/n closed the book and rose from the bench, the owl maintained its vigilant watch, its piercing eyes following their every step. Y/n secured D/n's leash, and the two began their stroll back towards the library's parking lot, the owl gracefully gliding from tree to tree, never losing sight of them.

Once both were in the car, the owl perched on the concrete edge of the library's roof, its keen gaze fixed on the departing car as it merged into the occupied street. 

Only when the car disappeared from view did the owl spread its feathered wings and take to the sky again, disappearing into the horizon.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1955 Chevrolet 210

TECH CHECK Owner: Eric Mead, Evansville, Indiana Vehicle: ’55 Chevrolet 210

Engine Type: BluePrint Engines Chevrolet LS3 Displacement: 376 ci Compression Ratio: 10.7:1 Bore: 4.070 inches Stroke: 3.622 inches Cylinder Heads: BluePrint Engines aluminum Camshaft: BluePrint Engines hydraulic roller (0.612/0.585-inch lift, 225/238 deg. duration) Ignition: E38 Engine PCM Assembly: BluePrint Engines Exhaust: Church Boys Racing by Stainless Works 1-7/8-inch primaries to 3-inch collector and 2.5-inch stainless pipes bent by Dave Favor’s Performance Exhaust, MagnaFlow Mufflers Ancillaries: Holley mid-mount accessory drive, PRC radiator and core support, SPAL Fans Output: 530 hp at 6,100 rpm, 508 lb-ft at 5,200 rpm

Drivetrain Transmission: ’99 GM 4L80E Automatic with TransGo valvebody kit prepared by Wathen’s Transmission (Owensboro, KY) Torque Converter: FTI Billet 3,200 stall Driveshaft: Driveline Plus Rear Axle: Strange Engineering 9-inch with Truetrac differential, 3.70 gears, 35-spline axles

Chassis Chassis: Roadster Shop SPEC Front Suspension: Strange single-adjustable coilovers, stabilizer bar Rear Suspension: Strange single-adjustable coilovers, parallel four-link, Panhard bar Brakes: Baer four-wheel disc, 12-inch front rotors with four-piston calipers, 11-inch rear rotors with four-piston calipers, Baer Remaster master cylinder

Wheels & Tires Wheels: Bogart Racing Wheels D-5; 17×4.5 front with 2.25-inch backspace, 15×10 rear with 5.5-inch backspace Tires: Mickey Thompson Sportsman S/R front, 26×6.00R17; Mickey Thompson ET Street S/S rear, 295/55R15

Interior Upholstery: Holtsclaw Custom Upholstery (Francisco, IN) Carpet: Cars Inc. black loop carpet Seats: Original bench seat with black-and-white vinyl Delray pattern Steering: Summit steering column with Eddie Motorsports steering wheel Shifter: Lokar Dash: Original Instrumentation: Dakota Digital VHX HVAC: Vintage Air Wiring: American Autowire by Andy’s Hot Rod Shop (Mulkeytown, IL)

Exterior Bodywork and Paint: Reisinger Custom Rebuilding (Evansville, IN) and Andy’s Hot Rod Shop Paint: Sateen Silver/white by James Smith of Road Runner Restorations (Johnston City, IL) Hood: Stock Grille: Danchuk Bumpers: Danchuk Glass: Auto City Classics Fuel Tank: 15.5-gallon Tanks Inc. galvanized powedercoated silver

[dreamwatch]

Get in the Van

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #5 - Prompt: On The Road | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: chronic pain, language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None| Tags: band struggles, touring in a van, author is not American, geographic inacuracies (probably) | AO3

****

“Fuck!”

“It doesn’t matter how many times you kick the van, man, it’s not going to make it start!”

“Maybe he just needs to kick it harder.”

“Shut up!”

****

Wasn’t this just fucking amazing? Wasn’t this just indicative of the bad luck that followed him around like some looming spectre? They’ve only been out on the road a few weeks, just a handful of gigs before the van broke down. Now they’re stuck at the side of the road in Somewhere, Minnesota, with a van full of equipment, dirty laundry and soon to be broken dreams. 

It started in Evansville, with a bunch of locals who heard about the satanists showing up to play their 'devil music' and decided to give them a warm welcome; there are dents and scratches all over the van that are definitely not going to buff out.

Then in St. Louis they had an amazing show, like objectively fucking brilliant. Eddie knows for a fact there was some local music journalist in the crowd, too. So of course that was the night Jeff’s amp decided it wasn’t just going to give up, it was going out in a blaze of glory. Literally. Fucking thing just went up in flames. Everyone thought it was part of the act, even when he stripped his shirt off to beat the flames out. So yeah, now they’re down an amp.

Gareth being plied with tequila before the show in Kansas City was another highlight. Don’t get him wrong, he loves to see Gareth happy and if a pretty woman wanted to buy him some drinks then good for him. He loved it less when they were on stage later. Eddie has no idea what songs Gareth was playing, but they definitely weren’t the same as the rest of the band. He also learned it’s really hard to get vomit out of a snare drum.

And then there’s the pain.

Thing is, its always there. It just is, there’s no point making a big deal about it. The doctors always told him it would be a life long thing but that it would get easier. It’s been three years now, and there’s been no improvement. Which is, well not fine, it sucks, but you know, it is what it is. But there have been days, shows, where he could cry. Where it feels like his skin has been flogged with a burning switch, where the muscles in his leg and back scream at him to stop, just fucking stop! But he pushes through, takes his painkillers, maybe doubles up sometimes with a couple of shots of JD to help them down, whatever. It’s all good.

And now they’re sitting at the side of the I-94 with smoke and steam billowing from the engine block, and nothing but truck after truck passing by. 

“What if no one stops?” asks Gareth, propping himself against the back doors.

Jeff rocks on his heels in front of him, hands jammed in his pockets. “Someone will stop.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Eddie mutters. He’s under the hood, poking his hand around into the hot engine parts; he’s only burnt himself twice so far. 

“Hey, don’t be bring your bad juju here man—”

Eddie storms to the back of van. “My bad juju? Are you kidding me? Gareth booked these fucking gigs!”

A huge semi screams past them, tooting his horn, making them all jump. 

“I booked some of them. Don’t blame this on me, man. It’s your van.”

“It is my van, correct, however we all benefit from it, and I don’t see any of you assholes dipping into your pockets when it needs work.”

Jeff shrugs. “Well, it’s never needed work.”

“It does now,” says Matt, merrily throwing pebbles into the long grass, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Eddie cuts him a withering look.

Another truck passes, whipping up dirt in it’s trail. When he’s done coughing, Gareth says “I kind of think we should stand further away, actually. This doesn’t feel safe.“ He’s probably not wrong.

“Alright, go and sit by the fence, I’ll stand here with my thumb out,” Eddie says, mumbling “like an asshole” under his breath. He drops his jacket into the front seat of the van on the off chance it might seem less imposing, and then heads to the side of the road, standing as far out from the van as he dares. 

“You should roll your jeans up, show ‘em some leg!” Matt shouts at him.

“Fuck off, Matt!”

“Have you seen how white his legs are?” he can hear Jeff say. “We want them to stop, not call Ghostbusters.”

Eddie pokes his head around the side of the van. “By all means, one of you stand here with your thumb in the air while eighteen wheelers fly past.” When he doesn’t get a response he snaps back, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

Eddie stands in the blazing sun, hair whipping around his face as semi after semi speeds by; he’s sweaty and dirty and desperate for a shower. The nerves in his leg are starting to fire up, and he needs a cigarette but he smoked his last one just before the van decided it was done with this trip, so now he has the little tap tap tap of nicotine addiction to contend with as well. 

This sucks. Touring sucks. So fucking much.

But.

Last night they played a show in Minneapolis. The crowd was wild; a huge mosh pit opened up right in front of Eddie and it took every ounce of his being not to throw himself in the mix. They sold tapes and t-shirts and traded phone numbers with a band manager. They laughed all night and drank until three A.M.. It was amazing. It was everything he ever dreamed it would be.

Wayne always told him he was resilient, ‘more than you know, son.’ He holds on to that as another truck screams past.

[todaysdocument]

Circular Entitled Colored Soldiers! Equal State Rights! And Monthly Pay with White Men!

Record Group 94: Records of the Adjutant General's OfficeSeries: Letters ReceivedFile Unit: Consolidated File for Major Martin Delaney, 104th USCT Infantry Regiment

BLACK NATIONAL DEFENDERS! The State or Connecticut is authorized to raise Colored Troops; and any number of her quota of 5,000 may be colored men. 29th Regiment Connecticut Volunteers, is now being formed at Camp Buckingham, composed entirely of Colored Men, located at the beautiful City of New Haven, the seat of Yale University. STATE BOUNTY, $200.00 CASH! On being sworn in. By an old law of the State, 30 dollars a year are allowed to each soldier for clothing, 10dol- lars of which is paid down at the time of entering the service, the other 20 dollars being paid in four month payments each, making 210 dollars Bounty--cash, on joining the Regiment--and 20 dollars more during the year. An important fact connected with this recruiting is, that the contract for raising the troops has been given to a Colored Man; and Connecticut is the first State, since the war commenced, which has been thus liberal and considerate. This fact alone should be an inducement for COLORED MEN to rally to her standard; all the Recruiting Agents in the West being Colored; and this principle should prevail everywhere. Colored Men should recruit Colored Men, as best adapted to it. The most liberal compensation will be given to Good Agents, about 50 such being now wanted, and to whom will be paid Cash so soon as service is rendered. APPLY WITHOUT DELAY TO DR. M.R. DELANY, State Contractor, Head-quarters of the West and South-Western States and Territories, 172 Clark Street, Top Story, Chicago, Ill. JOHN JONES, Assistant. LIEUT [crossed out] W.F. STAINES, Evansville, Ind. [image of hand, pointing] For further information, address Dr. M.R. Delany, Box 764, Chicago, Ill. NOTE--I may add here that I am much indebted for obtaining this contract to Major Sanford, of Heavy Artillery Service, and other gentlemen in the Rhode Island Heavy Artillery, who reom- mended me to the authorities of Cleveland. [crossed out] Connecticut. [hand-written] M.R. Delany, State Contractor. Chicago, Ill., Dec. 1st, 1863. P.S.--All recruiting in the States in which it is prohibited is hereby forbidden. M.R.D. Chicago Evening Journal Print, 50 Dearborn Street. D 135 A.G.O. C.T. 1863 [hand-written in red ink along bottom right side]COLORED SOLDIERS! EQUAL STATE RIGHTS! AND MONTHLY PAY WITH WHITE MEN! On the 1st day of January, 1863, the President of the United States proclaimed FREEDOM TO OVER THREE MILLIONS OF SLAVES! The decree is to be enforced by all the power of the Nation. On the 21st of July last he issued the following order:-- PROTECTION OF COLORED TROOPS. "WAR DEPARTMENT, ADJUTANT GENERAL'S OFFICE,"} WASHINGTON, JULY 21. General Order, No. 233. "The following order of the President is published for the information and government of all concerned:-- EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON, July 30. '"It is the duty of every Government to give protection to its citizens, of whatever class, color, or condition, and especially to those who are duly organized as soldiers in the public service. The law of nations, and the usages and customs of war, as carried on by civilized powers, permit no distinction s to color in the treatment of prisoners of war as public enemies. To sell or enslave any captured person on account of his color, is a relapse into barbarism, and a crime against the civilization of the age. '"The Government of the United States will give the same protection to all its soldiers, and if the enemy shall sell or enslave any one because of his color, the offence shall be punished by retaliation upon the enemy's prisoners in our possession. It is, therefore ordered, for every soldier of the United States, killed in violation of the laws of war, a rebel soldier shall be executed; and for every one enslaved by the enemy, or sold into slavery, a revel soldier shall be placed at hard labor on the public works, and continued at such labor until the other shall be released and receive the treatment due to prisoners of war. '"ABRAHAM LINCOLN."' '"By order of the Secretary of War. '"E.D. TOWNSEND, Assistant Adjutant General."' That the [full transcription at link]

[flagwars]

Flag Wars Bonus Round

The new flag of Evansville was recently approved by the city council.

[sickomode1245]

ME

Hi my name is jaylen and I am going to be telling you about myself. i am grew up in evansville indiana until i was 5 and when i was 5 I moved to michigan city indiana. In Michigan city indiana I lived there for 10+ years and i played football there until 2020. In 2020 I moved back to evansville to live with my father and his wife. In 2020 i started my first year of highschool where I played another year of football and started varsity 3-4 highschool years. In those 3-4 years of my highschool career I had been to already 3 different highschools in 3 years. After my junior I had realized that i had lost the love for the sport of football and then I went on and found a job a mcdonalds. When I got the job at mcdonalds I was making 13-14 dollars and hour and I worked there for 1 year. In the middle of 2023 i moved to Lansing Michigan.

[earthpkmnheadcanons]

What gyms are in Indiana? Like I said in my last ask, I'm in south western Indiana, but I'd love to know what covers my state as far as gym challenges go. Thank you!

There's 25 gyms overall in Indiana, but the state Pokemon league consists of the eight largest and most important.

1. Lafayette flying-type gym

Run in part by Purdue University, this is the recommended gym for trainers beginning their journey in Indiana, and its gym leader utilizes a tough but friendly Minior.

2. Vincennes grass-type gym

While Vincennes is a smaller town, its long history makes it a perfect candidate for a grass-type gym that doubles as a museum. Once you reach the end, you can battle against the gym leader, an old academic who uses a Gogoat.

3. Bloomington psychic-type gym

Staffed primarily by college students, this psychic gym possesses a wide variety of global Pokemon species, from Xatu to Wobbuffet to Solrock. A new gym leader is decided every month by drawing potential candidates from a hat.

4. Evansville ground-type gym

In a nondescript building overlooking the Ohio River, this "boring" gym is one of the toughest in the state, knocking out the most challengers of any gym. Its gym leader uses a Donphan that can knock down a building with its Rollout.

5. Fort Wayne fighting-type gym

Fighting-type specialists from across the Midwest come here to train, because Fort Wayne's gym is the third-largest by area of any in the country. Its mazelike layout includes basketball courts, indoor football fields, and a dojo. At the end, you'll face the leader's Hariyama, who she's trained since a Makuhita.

6. South Bend steel-type gym

Though South Bend isn't much of an industrial town anymore, its gym - in a repurposed factory - serves as a reminder of the city's history. Klink and Magnemite fill the interior, but that leader waits deep inside with a powerful Metagross.

7. Hammond poison-type gym

Because of this gym's proximity to Chicago, it's always buzzing with activity. It relies on an unusual format, with challengers battling other challengers to see who comes out on top and can go on to face the leader's Nidoking.

8. Indianapolis dark-type gym

The crown jewel of the Indiana Pokemon League is the Indianapolis gym, located inside a replica Victorian mansion. Challengers navigate by flashlight, hoping to reach the basement in which the leader and his Honchkrow await.

[railwayhistorical]

Petersburg Secondary

I’m not positive of the location here, but I believe it to be Ashby Yard in Petersburg, Indiana. I had shot a few pictures at the Algiers, Winslow & Western just prior to this, which I would assume to have been in Oakland City, and Petersburg would be on the way home from there.

In any case I love the ex-Pennsy crummy here along with an interesting old passenger car turned into a company building, an office perhaps. The line is Conrail at this date, but it’s lineage going back in time is Penn Central, New York Central, Big Four, and the Evansville, Indianapolis & Terre Haute Railroad. It was built along the old Wabash & Erie Canal.

One image by Richard Koenig; taken December 5th 1976.

[skirazed]

american legacy fishing If you're an angler in Evansville Indiana and you're in search of top-of-the-line fishing gear look no further than American Legacy Fishing. Located in the heart of the city American Legacy Fishing is your one-stop superstore for all your fishing needs whether you're a seasoned pro or a beginner just starting out.

[ailelie]

Hawkins

Look. If you're going to set Hawkins in southern Indiana and put Indianapolis 3 hours away, the nearest city likely isn't Indy. It's probably Evansville.

Evansville is no where near as large as Indy, but, for the small towns in the south, it is 'The City' (unless they're further east, in which case their 'City' is probably Louisville, KY).

Evansville has a private library, opened in 1885, with the directive that EVERYONE regardless of skin color was welcome to check out books.

Evansville is home to the second oldest gay bar in the entire state--Someplace Else--which opened in 1990. (The oldest is up at the top of the state in Muncie).

Heavy metal artist, Dio, performed in Evansville in 1985. Here's his setlist.

(As did Tina Turner and Foreigner).

Evansville is home to the third oldest baseball field still in operation (Bosse Field) and hosts multiple professional sports teams. The Evansville Thunder, a short lived professional basketball team, had two seasons in Evansville from 1984 to 1986.

Evansville has two 4-year universities (USI and UE). UE has well-developed theater program (Ron Glass is an alum) and hosts the Purple Aces (originally Pioneers), a basketball team. They're currently NCAA Div 1, but I'm not sure when they entered that division.

Evansville has a long-running zoo (Mesker Park) and archeological site (Angel Mounds)--both of which are popular for field trips.

I'm not saying Evansville is a great place. I left it behind, after all. But I'm tired of reading stories set in Hawkins that act like Indy is the only option for concerts, theater, etc.

[reputationsaviors-blog]

#Online #Reputation Management# #Crisis Remove Complaints# Consultants# Services# Local# #Search #Engine Optimization# SEO# GMB# Tools# Software# Online# Companies# Reviews# Tips# Social Media Management# Remove Complaints# BBB# RipOffReport.com# Complaints.com# ComplaintsBoard.com# Blogs # Reviews# Webites# Online# Advertising# Marketing# Ads# Computer# Web Site Development# Hosting# TV# Television# Commercials# Internet# PR# Public Relations# Legal# Lawyer# Law# Attorney# Attorneys# Finance# Loan# Classifieds# Directories# Local Search# Business Leads# Sales Leads# Personal Data Removals# Internet Legal# Training Seminars

[afranciscomiradiezblr-blog]

La incombustible Madonna y el paso del Tiempo 1991

Robert Matthew Van Winkle, conocido a nivel mundial como Vanilla Ice es cantante de rap, bailarín y actor originario de Texas. Su carrera comenzó en 1989 con el lanzamiento de su primer disco «Hooked» y luego con su segundo álbum «To The Extreme» (1990) que contenía el single «Ice Ice Baby» por el que se hizo mundialmente conocido y que ha vendido más de 20 millones de copias.

Vanilla Ice, además de ser uno de los raperos blancos más reconocidos de principios de los noventas, se hizo famoso también por haber transitado un fugaz pero mediático romance con Madonna. Se dice que se conocieron y que comenzaron a salir, escondidos de la prensa a mediados de 1991. Fueron descubiertos juntos por primera vez cuando fueron a ver el film «Frankie and Johnny» y luego se visitaron en los sets de filmación en Evansville cuando él estaba filmando «Cool and Ice» y ella «A League of their Own». Ya para mayo de ese año, se los pudo ver muy juntos y casi confirmando su relación durante la fiesta de estreno del film «Truth or Dare». Desde entonces, los rumores de una relación sentimental entre ambos fueron creciendo y ninguno de ellos se encargó de negarlo.

Madonna Louise Ciccone​, conocida simplemente como Madonna, es una cantante, bailarina, compositora, actriz, empresaria e icono estadounidense. Madonna pasó su infancia en Bay City y en 1978 se mudó a la ciudad de Nueva York para realizar una carrera de danza contemporánea.

[undressjess]

This been on my mind a lot lately. People have been bringing it up more than usual that Evansville might be holding me back. I have never personally felt that way but I may be losing my apartment soon thanks to a wanna-be “whistle blower” (to the local housing authority) who really just wants lower cost apartments to be gentrified out in my area so her & her rich elderly husband don’t have to look at us poor folk in her fancy historical neighborhood. So it may be time to use this unfortunate situation as a step towards the light. And by light I mean, into an actual city. But idk… 🤷🏼‍♀️ (at Evansville, Indiana) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClSr8J6OQai/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[feedingtheflockministry]

The Testimony of Sean Little

The music scene in Evansville, Indiana may not be as large as New York City, but it is vibrant nonetheless. So when Sean Little performs, people are listening. Performing it is, since his energetic hip-hop/rap requires him to transform from the soft-spoken family man he is away from the stage.

But it wasn't always that way. Only through Jesus working in his life has he developed a peace to help him calm the dysfunctional he experienced earlier in his life. Family members in jail. Few positive role models. A path that could have easily led to death—but didn't.