#oddly southern when I'm at home

[citruslullabies]

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic?: romantic

Requested by: no one!! Just a fun lil thing

Category: heavy fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): prewar!Cooper Howard x female!reader

Word count: 1000

He's a Doll

The apartment had been so quiet, so calm and peaceful. It was almost suspicious just how calm it had been.

It was a nice saturday evening and you were home alone while your spouse was out doing odd jobs, sipping on a cup of tea while reading an article about the war. It was always a topic your partner avoided but you found it interesting, always keeping up to date on the new information coming out.

Cooper Howard, while at one point a well known and beloved actor, had fallen back into the bottom after his divorce with Barbara. A woman you had never met - nor cared to. You honestly were about to give up on the dating game since you were getting older, and age certainly wasn't kind to anyone. You were a 36 year old woman who already had bad back problems and creaky knees, who would want that??

But he did. You both had met when out grocery shopping, with you trying to reach something on the second to highest shelf and trying to regrettably monkey climb and remembering your age in the process.. when all the sudden hearing a chuckle from behind you. And there he was, a very exhausted looking Cooper Howard chuckling at your dispense before helping you out.

The both of you had met when his divorce was still being finalized and custody as well, it seemed like everything was going south for Coop until he fortunately went down the right aisle at the right time. He couldn't even remember how it happened, meeting and then talking and it somehow took off from there. You'd be lying if you said you understood how it happened either.

The radio was playing in the background of the calm little apartment, legs tucked into your side as the hot cup pressed against your lips and a soothing sweet liquid spilled down your throat. With a smile, you continued to read while humming along to the radio station.

“Everyone tells me he's no good

He doesn't love me like he should

I would forget him if I only could

He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll”

The lyrics rung out of the little box, causing you to hum along to the beat and drift off into your own little world inside of your head. The song oddly enough reminded you of Cooper, well, besides the whole cheating aspect.. the lyrics were so sweet and reminded you of the sweet devil you fell in love with.

“That man can look me in the eye

And tell the biggest, sweetest lie

And I forget the lipstick on his tie

He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll

Sometimes I make up my mind

That I'll stop being so blind

And tell him off real bad

But then he turns on those charms, and there I am in his arms

And I forget why I'm mad”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you continued to listen, while the song wasn't necessarily about a good relationship it reminded you of yours in a good way. You and Cooper have fought, but he always somehow manages to calm you down before you blow your top off.

The door opened and Cooper was greeted with the sound of music and your humming, which was a pleasant surprise. He closed the door behind him and put his keys up, looking at you in the living room completely off into your own world.. a devious idea sparks in his head.

Quietly, he walked up behind the couch and leaned over just enough to be hovering. He stopped and admired you for a few moments.. the way you seemed so relaxed and at peace, despite that god forsaken news report on the nuclear fallout and war being in your hands. He chuckled quietly and then grabbed your shoulders abruptly earning a startled yelp and a quick swat to the arm.

“No need to get your panties in a twist darlin, ‘m sorry.” The southern cowboy said with a laugh as he saw your irritated gaze, his pearly whites on full display as his eyes were crinkled up. Oh you couldn't stay mad at him no matter how hard you tried.

Your gaze softened in almost an instant when seeing how joyous his face appeared, rolling your eyes playfully as you folded up the newspaper and tucked it into your arm. He smiled when he felt a delicate hand on his cheek from the one he adored, chuckling and placing his larger and rougher head atop your smaller and softer hand. Your hands had callouses, but they were like buttermilk compared to his sandpapered skin. He leaned down and captured your lips with his own, hands sliding down to your hip dips and squeezing softly.

With a content hum, he snaked one hand over to that pesky paper you had rolled up and took it away from you while you were distracted. He was glad to see you after a long day of work, your lips tasting like sweet sun tea with a bit too much sugar but he still accepted the flavor on his tongue happily since it was you. You pulled away and smiled at him, before pressing your cheek against the cushion.

“Well, I'll just accept it as a heads-up that you're sleeping on the couch tonight.” You chuckled as he gave you a fake offended look. He nuzzled his nose against yours with a chuckle, before pouting. “Oh sugar cube, you're so cruel to a poor cowboy down on his luck.”

You both stayed like that for a while, just adoring each other with playful jabs.. the music continuing to be sweet as it filled the room and danced around the both of you.

“He's a palooka, he's a brute

He drives me crazy but he's cute

Why do I love a guy I ought to shoot?

He is a demon, he is a devil, he is a doll~”

Thank you for reading!

Oh my god this is so old, I might rewrite it - I just realized I never posted it!!

[milkycarnations]

heyo! can you do a part two to that masky kinktober thing? like when they actually meet up? tyty!! love ur writing!!

I finally finished it! Hope this isn't too heavy. Thank you for filling my brain with these thoughts, anon. Here's the link to part one for anyone interested in the relationship between masky and the reader in this fic. This one occurs immediately after part one.

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#1 Crush | Masky x afab!reader | 2.3k words

one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: daddy mentions, breeding kink, name-calling, mask kink, home invasion but consensual?, explicit consent, minor fear play, unprotected sex, skipping foreplay

After finishing up the scene, you were exhausted. You used so much energy and passion, you wanted nothing more than to clean up and pass out for the rest of your evening. Rolling your chair back, you stood and stretched. After collecting your things you walked into the bathroom to rinse off the toys you had used. You couldn't stop thinking about him.

You spent a while in there, using soap and water to wash off the dried lube. The pair of panties you had inside you earlier was lying on the counter. You eyed them, recounting everything that had happened during the call. You took them out not too long ago, almost immediately after the scene. It wasn't particularly comfortable to have them shoved inside of you, but the sensation had you craving this man you didn't know. "Themaskedman" really had wanted you to send them to him and you were planning to do so the next day. You could only imagine the things he intended to do with them? Wrap them around his cock and jack off? Put them in his mouth and try to catch a taste of you? Either way, you ached and yearned for him.

He hadn't told you his real name, but you were obsessed with what you did know about him. You thought his cock was gorgeous and his mask was pretty, too. It was oddly soft and feminine, but hidden behind it was a man so depraved and needy - just like you.

You eventually rounded your things up and returned to your bedroom, organizing your toys and redressing into the robe you had cammed in. Flopping onto your bed, you sighed. If only he could have you in person. With that mask, too. He could rough you up without having to pretend over video calls. It had been a long time since you haven't pretended. Turning to your side, you flicked off your bedside light. You supposed now would be the best time to wind down for the day. You wouldn't have to cam again in a while and were excited to spend some time offline.

Your phone lit the front of your face as you laid. Whining, you opened your private DMs with themaskedman. Reading through the old messages excited you. You started mindlessly grinding into nothing. Would it be stupid to be so horny for him? He was paying you well, and you should be getting money out of each interaction with him but for some reason, you felt addicted. You wanted him.

you: so since you're kinda like my sugar daddy, i was curious. what do you do. like for work

You sent the message, body buzzing with anticipation. Surprisingly, he answered rather quickly.

themaskedman: nothing you need to worry your little head over, princess.

People called you pet names all the time: baby, honey, whore, slut, princess even - but from him? This name was special. The way he spoke to you made you feel so light and airy. You recalled the slight rasp in his voice and the slight southern drawl that he seemed to hide from you.

you: if you say so. but... any name i can call you by?

He took longer this time to respond, seemingly considering his answer.

themaskedman: hows masky sound? cute isn't it. unless youd like to call me daddy - since i'm kinda like your sugar daddy.

You huffed, laughing into your pillow.

you: i guess masky works fine ;)

You sat for a moment, thinking of something to say while he responded.

themadskedman: so you couldn't stay away from me huh? i can tell you don't get the attention you deserve. people expect so much from you and don't give anything back

you: im only a little touch starved. care to come by and ravish me?

He took several moments to respond, three dots flashing as he thought of an answer.

themaskedman is typing.

Had you gone too far? Was he put off by your abruptness? You frowned. Oh, how you hoped you hadn't ruined anything. He really was your sugar daddy and you were willing to give him something saccharine in return. You remembered his husky body, chubbier in the stomach with coarse wisps of hair on his thighs. Calloused, working hands that surely hadn't seen a day's rest. Absentmindedly, you rubbed yourself.

themaskedman shared a location.

You froze for a moment, dripping with a mix of fear and excitement. The location he sent you was your own, apartment number and all. You rubbed yourself a little heavier. He probably just found your address online, big whoop. You'd thought you'd been keeping yourself pretty secure, but maybe you were wrong. It was bound to happen.

themaskedman: only if you buzz me in

From the other room, the uncanny sound of the apartment's call box rang. Heart racing and heat dripping, you cautiously stood up from the bed. Heading over to your front door your vision confirmed what you had heard. You hesitantly pressed the button, allowing him access to the building. He was really here.

you: youre actually here?

themaskedman: I told you we'd make it 100 for a playdate.

You shivered as a knock rapt softly at your door. How had he gotten here so quickly? You ended the stream with him about 2 hours ago now. It shouldn't have been possible.

Reaching for the doorknob, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. You sheepishly peered out. Letting out a gasp, you stepped back a bit. He was taller than you expected and still wore the feminine mask.

"Can I come in? Ravish you?"

You nodded sheepishly, moving out of his way, unable to stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together. You realized you were wearing the exact robe he liked. Once he was fully inside, you closed the door behind him. His boots were heavy on your apartment's wooden floors and he quickly worked to unlace them. You took note of his clothes: a heavy tan jacket, roughed-up pants, and a sturdy set of boots. He definitely didn't look like any sort of executive or CEO.

"You really wanna do this?" he asked.

You looked him in the eyes, hidden behind the dark sockets of his mask.

"Yes, I do. I'm sure of it." you said.

"You need it as badly as I crave you, too, right? You can feel it?" he murmured.

He snaked his hand into yours, rubbing his calloused fingers against your pampered ones. Leaning in closer, he nudged his head against yours. Dangerous? With a soft romantic side? You were way more into this than you expected.

"I don't just let any stranger into my house you know," you started.

"Oh? Not exactly strangers anymore. You fucked your pretty ass on camera for me."

"I'm willing to do a lot more than that. I think you're... special."

His hands raised to caress your sides, tracing his fingers up and down your waist.

"How did you find me here?" you asked him.

"I'm obsessed with you." he mumbled behind the mask, "may I?"

Fingers grasped at the strings of your robe.

"Please," you smiled.

Tugging at the straps, the robe shrugged down your shoulders, revealing your bare chest and legs. From behind the mask, his eyes scoured your figure as he hesitantly reached to cusp your breasts. Laughing, you grabbed his hands in yours and guided him, encouraging him to massage and kneed at you. Eventually, his thumbs slid over your nipples, carefully pulling and twisting. You let out a shaky moan.

"You're being so gentle. I thought you were here to ravish me?" you asked.

"I don't want to hurt you. You're so... fragile."

Pulling off the rest of the robe, you led him over to the bed.

"I promise you won't," you said.

You sat down as he took off his coat, followed by his shirt, and his worn-down jeans. He took extra care in stripping off his boxers, revealing his cock to you. He certainly was the same person who had video-called you earlier in the night.

You noticed he hadn't moved to take the mask off, but you weren't going to fight him on it. You liked the secrecy. The scary, mystery that anybody could be behind that mask.

Leaning back onto the bed, you lifted your feet to rest on the mattress, spreading yourself open for him.

"Does it look better in person?" you asked.

"It's everything I imagined and more."

"And how exactly do you intend to "ravish me"?"

He walked up to the mattress, leaning over your body.

"Looking into your eyes." he said.

"Missionary? Wouldn't expect it from a man like you."

"If it means I get to see all of you. You're always doing all the work on your streams. Don't you wanna be a pillow princess just this once?"

You smirked. It did sound nice - letting someone else take control of you.

He turned you around, laying you on your back with your head resting on your pillows. You had already begun physically dripping for him, something you rarely felt yourself do anymore. It was exciting - overwhelming even. He reached to push his fingers inside of you, but you stopped him before he could.

"Please, I just want your cock inside me now. Don't you think we've done enough foreplay? I've already cum tonight, I'm as ready for you as I'll ever be."

The mask tilted to the side as he turned his head.

"If you think you're ready for it..." he said.

Pushing your knees back he looked down at your pussy. You were sure you were red, swollen, and highly sensitive already and the grool dripping from your cunt was likely quite the sight to see. He spent a moment looking at you, wordless, before lining his cock up to your entrance.

He teased his head along your slit. Each time it glided over your clit you practically keened.

"I really can just slip right in, huh? Such a whore just for me."

"Just for you," you moaned along with him.

Pushing himself in, he gripped onto your thighs. He stretched you nicely as he slowly bottomed out.

"Fuck, I can't believe I'm inside you. You're dripping,"

"How long - how long have you wanted to be inside me?" you asked, breath shaky.

"I've been watching you for months. I've wanted to be inside you this whole time."

He pulled out before slamming back in.

"Fuck!" you whined, "you've been beating your dick to me for that long?"

He slammed into you again in response and pushed your legs flush to your chest.

"This isn't missionary and more you perv."

"What's it called?" he grunted.

Heat rose to your face. Surely, he knew what it was called if he was such the voyeur he claimed he was.

"Mating press." you mumbled near his ear.

You could've sworn you felt his cock twitch at the words, precum likely leaking inside of you.

"Fuck. Would you let me do that to you? You gonna let me cum inside of you?"

You nodded, unable to speak. His words alone were almost enough to make you cum. He was clueless, needy, and kind of an incel and the dynamic between the two of you was intense.

He let out a strangled noise as he started to pound into you at a proper pace. He was rough and deep and the sound of his balls slamming into you filled the room. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you.

"You feel, so good." tears started to rim your eyes. You couldn't believe this. Your top donor was actually in your apartment, fucking you senseless.

Letting go, you lifted your hands to grasp around his shoulders.

Your fingernails gripped hard into the soft flesh of his back, scratching him up as he needlessly rammed into you. Breathless, you wrapped your legs around his waist one by one and pulled him in closer. Both of you felt him thrust deeper inside of you, each of you moaning in pleasure.

"Please," you begged nearly to tears, "please go harder,"

Though you cammed weekly, often for thousands of viewers each night, you found yourself again at a loss for words. You couldn't express how much you needed him, nor could you find a way to beg for him to fuck you the way you wanted. Either way, he seemed to know exactly what to do.

Quickening his pace, he gripped you harder, hands reaching around to cusp your face.

"Fuck, please make me cum."

He ran his thumb against your cheek before reaching a hand down to your clit. Rubbing in small circles, he continued thrusting into you. The combination was heavenly, and quickly became too much. Your fingers continued to claw at his back as you desperately tried to keep him pulled close to you. Still, he continued to fuck into you at just the perfect pace.

Both of you could tell that you were about to cum. It was present in the way your legs trembled and how you grew quiet as you shoved your face into his shoulder.

"Oh fuck," he said breathlessly, "are you cumming?"

You could barely manage a nod as your pussy clenched around him. After a few seconds, moans drew out of you as you rode your high. His pace quickened and he followed suit, rutting erratically as you squeezed around his cock.

"I'm gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill you up, finally. Such a good slut for me."

The sounds falling out of him were hoarse and needy and only made your cunt ache even more.

"Fuck you're amazing," he said, stopping to rest his head on you with his last thrust.

"Don't you just think we're perfect for each other?" he asked?

[nobodysdaydreams]

A Special Treat for My Wolf359 Friends: Oddly Specific Christmas Songs that Remind Me of Wolf359 Characters

Happy advent dear readers! 'Tis the season for festive head canons, and as a lover of very obscure Christmas music, here are some tunes that remind me of Wolf359 characters. I included links to all the songs listed, so have fun listening! I think most of the songs I found fit, and I found two songs per character (plus some bonus tracks...), so let me know which ones you enjoy!

I included explanations for why I think the songs fit the characters, feel free to disagree.

Side note: Please don't put any spoilers on this post, as I've only listened through season three at this point. If you want to follow my reactions to Wolf359, you can do so under the tag "#Bods Wolf359 Reactions".

Doug Eiffel- Christmas Tree On Fire / Christmas in Jail / Who Spiked the Eggnog?

Why does Doug get three songs instead of two? Simple. Because he deserves them.

The first one is 100% a Doug song. I just need to close my eyes, tweak the lyrics slightly to make them about a fire he started because he didn't do a very simple task that Minkowski asked him to do, and it's Doug singing it in a southern accent.

As for the second one, there are a concerning amount of Christmas songs about alcoholism or spending the holidays in rehab and/or jail. This made it very hard to narrow it down, but this song is specifically about going to jail for drunk driving, so...um...it fits? In a very sad way, but I feel like Doug would sing this in a drunk moment of self-loathing, that Hera and Minkowski would talk him out of.

The third song fits Doug because to be honest the whole vibe of Straight No Chaser fits Doug, and this song reminds me of when Kepler demanded an explanation of what happened to his Whiskey. This is the song Doug would sing after assuring Kepler that he would stop at nothing to find the culprit.

Hera- The Most Wonderful Day of the Year / Somewhere in My Memory

The first song is from the Rankin/Bass Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer movie. It's about toys that were built incorrectly, so they are put on an island where misfit toys go and sing about how sad they are that they don't get to celebrate Christmas with everyone else. I don't think I need to explain why this song fits Hera.

The second song is from Home Alone, and I think it fits Hera, because of the how much that one episode focused on her memories, good and bad. Plus it's a very beautiful song, and I think Hera would appreciate that. This song has a long musical intro, so you might have to listen for a bit before you get to the lyrics.

Renee Minkowski- That Christmas Morning Feeling / Have Yourself a Merry Christmas

For the first one, no, I have not seen the movie, but this song came on my Christmas recommend, and you can't tell me that Minkowski would not go for a big festive Christmas musical number.

As for the second one, it's from the musical "Meet Me In St. Louis", which I'm sure Minkowski appreciates. Any musical Christmas song would fit Minkowski, but this one is a classic.

Alexander Hilbert- The Nutcracker: Russian Dance / A Mad Russian's Christmas-Insturmental

I chose the first song from the Nutcracker, since it's a Russian ballet. I feel like Hilbert hates holidays and would only even consider tolerating classical instrumental traditional Christmas music (even though Minkowski forces him to sing carols).

The second song is also instrumental, and I mean, well, just look at the title of it.

Isabelle Lovelace- Christmas Isn’t Cancelled (Just You) / We Wish You Weren't Living With Us

For the first song: tell me you couldn't see Lovelace singing something like this to Cutter or Hilbert. Very fitting too considering Cutter ordered Hilbert to kill everyone on Christmas. Lovelace would hear about that and chose this as her revenge song. It's another song where I can close my eyes and see her singing it with slightly altered lyrics.

The second song could easily be everyone singing about any of the villains, but it would especially fit the oddly specific situation of Lovelace sarcastically threatening Hilbert when Minkowski tries to make them all play nice and sing Christmas carols together.

Warren Kepler- Christmas Whiskey / Six Cups of Eggnog

I don't need to explain my first choice. Kepler sings this song alone in his office to a full glass of Whiskey, which he saves specifically for December.

As for the second, I can see Kepler singing this to lecture the others on the proper way to enjoy a drink, even though absolutely no one asked and no one cares.

Alana Maxwell- The Season's Upon Us / I'm Getting Nuttin' for Christmas

For the first choice, I don't know much about Maxwell, but I know she doesn't talk to her family, and this seemed to fit that.

For the second choice, the song fits because Maxwell is not getting anything for Christmas, because she's dead, and she did bad things. (I'm sorry Maxwell stans, but I struggled finding songs for her, and you can't say it isn't true, though this second choice does apply to multiple characters).

Daniel Jacobi- This Christmas (I'll Burn It To The Ground) / Please Daddy (Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas)

The first one could fit a lot of villain characters, but I chose it for Jacobi because he loves explosives. That's pretty much it. I had trouble finding songs for the SI-5. But I can see Jacobi screaming this song violently at a Christmas party, right before someone brings up the subject of ducks and sends him cowering to the corner.

The second song is because Jacobi seems to have some issues with his air force father (I was tempted to use the song for Doug's daughter, but figured that would be too dark). A close second for Jacobi was "The Twelve Days of Christmas" because there are a lot of birds in that song, and I love mocking Jacobi's fear of ducks. However, decided to go with other options because A) the 12 days of Christmas is already a pretty well known song and it doesn't fit that well and B) ducks are not explicitly mentioned in the song. But if anyone knows of a Christmas tune about ducks, please drop it in the tags.

Marcus Cutter- You Ain't Getting Diddly Squat / I’m Gonna Kill Santa Clause

For the first one, the song fits mainly because of the singer's high pitched cheery voice and the way he gleefully tells a bunch of kids that Santa hates them, and they're not getting anything for Christmas. I can listen to this, close my eyes, and see Cutter singing this as he happily informs the crew that they're all about to die on Christmas.

For the second one, it's fitting because Cutter ordered the deaths of multiple employees on Christmas, and if he lived in a universe where Santa Clause did exist, he absolutely would try to kill him and take his power. The line "nothing against him, it's just business" and part of the song where he sings about the elves being his prisoners are very on point.

Miranda Pryce- I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday / I Want an Alien For Christmas

This first song choice won't make any sense to you UNLESS you've seen Black Mirror, because if you have, you'll know it makes a disturbing amount of sense. So...for those who haven't seen black mirror and are wondering how on earth this song fits her character, here's the clip to provide some context. Some horrifying, terrible terrible context.

The second song honestly fits Cutter better, but he already had two songs and doesn't deserve a third one. And I don't know as much about Miranda at this point, except she's apparently down with the whole aliens thing, so I figured it would fit here too.

Dear Listeners- Silent Night / A Spacemen Came Travelling

The first one is a Christmas song from the 1920s about a silent night. I don't feel like I need to explain this choice.

The second is a song is a gentle tune about a man from space who comes to visit baby Jesus and his mother and wish them goodwill. I also don't think I need to explain why the aliens fit this one.

Blessie (the plant monster/specimen 34)- Percy, the Puny Poinsettia / Christmas Tree Farm

Yes, any song about plants or Christmas trees in general is appropriate, but this first song is fitting not only because I'm still grieving the death of our beloved Blessie, but also because before I knew his name was Blessie, I named him "Percy the Plant" or "Percival B. Eternal".

For the second one, the singer sings about wanting to go back to a Christmas tree farm, so when I listen to it, I imagine Blessie up in space, dreaming of the day he finally reaches earth so he can be among the other plants, Christmas trees included.

Rachel Young- Elf's Lament / You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch

I don't know as much about Rachel at this point, but a song about working in unfair conditions and regretting signing up for the job you chose seems like it might fit. Whether she'd be singing it about herself or those working under her, that's up to you.

The Grinch song could be sung about many characters on the list by so many characters on this list, but I can imagine Rachel thinking of Cutter every time she hears this song even though she does work for him, and I think the song describes her as well.

BONUS TRACK 1: This one is for Eiffel's daughter, Minkowski's husband, and everyone else left back on earth missing their (presumed dead) family: Blue Christmas

Sadly, I think this one speaks for itself...

BONUS TRACK 2: This is a little tune that Doug Eiffel and I would sing to Cutter, Pryce, Kepler, Jacobi, Maxwell, Hilbert, and Rachel: Put One Foot In Front of the Other

The song is from the movie "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". It's a song where a young Santa and his animal friends encourages the evil Winter Warlock to change his ways and become a better person. Perhaps this song too could inspire many of our morally bankrupt Wolf359 friends to either grab their redemption arc, or as the song says: "walk out the door" (straight out the airlock). And it's a children's song, which I think is necessary, since so many of them seem to have trouble grasping the basics of human decency. Hopefully this will make it easier for them to understand.

[hooked-on-elvis]

Halloween party + [BRIEF ROMANCES] Elvis and Joan Bradshaw: Hurt and vengeful EP?

Article: MAY 9TH, 1959 – THE BUFFALO EVENING NEWS – NY | Note: At the time this article was published, Elvis was in Germany on his Army duties... and the newsmen gossiping about his previous long gone [maybe even forgotten] love life! I guess they ran out of topics. | Pictures: Elvis and Joan Bradshaw.

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Elvis met Joan Bradshaw in early 1957 at Paramount studio, where she had a bit part in his film "Loving You". 

It's said EP was really enchanted by Joan's charms, but she played hard to get. Not because she was making a type or anything, as far as I know, but because she knew plenty about Elvis' womanizer fame. "If he want me, he will sweat!" Well, Elvis did date Joan for a short period in 1957, according to reports. It was a brief romance. I don't even know if it was a public thing because, oddly enough, I didn't found any pictures of them together (at least not until now) other than during one single event they attended in 1957.

Anyway... one day, while they were dating, Elvis without a warning went to Joan Bradshaw's apartment. He found her with a new guy friend there, if you know what I mean (no, I don't mean they were doing "it", I just mean Elvis knew he was a date for her, not just a friend). EP was pissed, possibly even hurt. Joan told him the truth, "We weren't going out steady and you didn't asked me out today so..." but Elvis didn't took it in a stride, no, sir.

You must remember Elvis as Vince Everett on "Jailhouse Rock". There's a scene where he went to Peggy Van Alden's (Judy Tyler) apartment to ask her out on a dinner date to celebrate Vince's record newest selling success, "Treat Me Nice". Peggy was already set to a date with another gentleman that evening. Vince says "But I already made reservations..." and she answers, "Vince, you should've made reservations with me. I still have a life of my own, you know? (...) I will not be subject to your beck and call." Well, it turns out sometimes Elvis' characters confuse themselves with the actor's real life persona - or the other way around (maybe they created his characters inspired on Elvis himself?... IDK). EP was indeed that type of guy who wants his lady to commit to him mind, body and soul. His ladies had to drop their lives on the spot and run to him whenever he felt like (better yet if they never left his side, specially in the 70s). Some of them dropped their lives to be accompanying with Elvis Presley 24/7, specially because the times were different - not all the ladies worked outside their homes and this also explains why Elvis felt like his lady should be at his beck and call, considering he was a Southern guy, raised under pretty conservative grounds, but not all of his ladies accepted that "condition" to be his girl, such as Joan Bradshaw clearly didn't. That begins to explain why Elvis didn't see a future dating any Hollywood starlet at all (I straight link this Joan Bradshaw event with what happened between Elvis and Ann Margret in the 60's).

Well, after finding out Joan was dating other guys at the same time she went out with him, EP left her apartment and the things were definitely over between the two, but there was one last thing to do: On his way out, it's reported Elvis destroyed the landlady's garden with his car wheels. Joan had to pay for the damage the day after when she was notified about her visitor's antic.

Was EP a vengeance kinda of boy in the 50's or maybe Joan said something to him that really pissed him off real big? There's ways and ways of breaking delicate news, right? I don't want to blame her at all, saying it was her fault Elvis acted vengeful towards her, this is all on him. They really weren't going out steady, therefore both were free to do as they would. I'm just... imagining why he was SO angry if he was never like that in public (sure, he had his temper tantrums here and there, but out of public eye).

Elvis and Joan Bradshaw: October 31, 1957 - Elvis spent Halloween 1957 in Hollywood. Elvis attended a Halloween party in Hollywood hosted by clothing designer Sy Devore.

As I told previously, Joan had heard plenty about EP's womanizer ways. Like during that Halloween event: As far as I learned, Joan Bradshaw was Elvis’ official date for the evening — although he went there with his Memphis Mafia usual crew (the guys even said Elvis was hating this party and called it a night not later after they arrived there - about just 1 and half hours - just because he didn't like the ''Hollywood types" and their parties. EP preferred having his private parties at his homes and invite just the people he really liked. Fair!). Having been Joan Bradshaw Elvis' official date for this party or not, they were going out around the same time. In spite of that, is reported that Elvis spent most of the night with a Las Vegas showgirl named Jay Wyman. That pretty much explains why Joan didn't gave her heart away to Presley. There were (many) girls EP easily broke hearts (Yvonne Lime, for instance, there's a heartbreaking love story with him but that's another topic).

There you go, another EP story. I found it interesting and liked to share it with you. As a fan, I like to know everything there is to know about our favorite guy, and no, I don't look at it with judging eyes or anything. Things happen for a reason and there's explanation behind every action, so... This is just another piece on the gigantic puzzle it is Elvis Presley's life. Every single piece of this puzzle helps us, fans, to know better who he was as a human being - even tho I don't think there's a single answer. He was a complex fella, our little boy.

Sorry in advance if I may didn't cover the full chain of events concerning Elvis and Joan Bradshaw. If I missed something, I will edit this article.

— Lamar Fike's accounts on that October 31, 1957 Halloween party, as published on "Elvis Aaron Presley: Revelations from the Memphis Mafia" by Alanna Nash [Chapter 10].

Elvis and (I believe) this Las Vegas showgirl, Jay Wyman.

The second picture is the wonderful Dolores Hart (Elvis' leading lady on "Loving You" and "King Creole"). She always had this angel smile, this loving aura, this girl-next-door, little-sister vibe with her, didn't she? She was dressed as Sputnik when the other girls looked so provocative at this party, like... She is the most! Hahaha. Totally "good Cady Heron" from "Mean Girls" vibe. I really love Dolores. ♥

[pvtjxker]

So, I was thinking about what would be the fav pieces of media (movies, series, comics, music ect) of the Lusthogs if they were in modern times yk.

So I made a list. Of all of it. For each.

(Philosophy oral tests can be boring when you're the one not to be tested.)

Let's start lol

DISCLAMEEER

There will be some Italian pieces of media too because well I'm italian and some of them are so oddly specific (Google them or ask me if you want to know more)

Joker

Movies: Spaceballs (Mel Brooks), Deep Red (Dario Argento), Once Upon A Time In...Hollywood (Quentin Tarantino), Mississippi Burning (Alan Parker)

TV Series: Yellow Jackets, Narcos, Babylon Berlin, Ted Lasso, Boris

Comics: Garfield, Beetle Bailey

Songs: Christmas Kids (by Roar), Kevin Spacey (by Caparezza), Badge (by The Cream)

Other: Westerns, expecially with John Wayne (for obvious reasons). (He watches them with Cowboy).

Cowboy

Movies: The Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind (Michel Gondry), Dance With Wolves (Kevin Costner), The Hunt Of Red October (John McTiernan).

TV Series: 1883 and 1923, After Life, Gomorra.

Comics: Tex, Lucky Luke.

Songs: Southern Night (Glenn Campbell), Can't Find My Way Home (Blind Faith), It's Too Late (Carol King).

Other: Westerns (he watches them with Joker).

Animal

Movies: Predator (John McTiernan), Karate Kid (John G. Avildsen), Two Lane Blacktop (Monte Hellman).

TV Series: Cobra Kai, The Pacific, Magnum P.I.

Comics: Beetle Bailey, Sin City.

Songs: Bulls On Parade (by Rage Against The Machine), Rigurgito Antifascista (by 99 Posse), Satisfaction (by Rolling Stones)

Other: he's a fan of Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter. For obvious reasons.

Rafter Man

(yeah, I found out just now that his nickname is supposed to be to be written like this and my life was turned upside down in pure "Prince Of Bel-Air" style.)

Movies: To Kill A Mockingbird (Robert Mulligan), The Naked Gun (David Zucker), Forrest Gump (Robert Zemeckis)

TV Series: Stranger Things, Community

Comics: Beetle Bailey, Liberty Meadows

Songs: Revolt (by Muse), Where Did All The Time Go? (Dr. Dog), Snap Out Of It (by Arctic Monkeys)

Other: he loves photo albums (no need to say why).

(@rosemarynightmares I think you would like this)

[katz-cradle]

WHERE IS MY

/POS!

Ik you said that’s all you had so far plot wise but I’m curious to learn mroe and about the five because I’m incapable about being normal when my friends tell me their stories

WAAA HEAJKHFHAOHAK I'm glad u really enjoy World End Class!!!

Here's the basics of the five, aka the little info blurb I have in the google doc lol;

Brooke Webb (She/Her)

“Brooke Webb is just a normal 18 year old, being the child of two office workers and a straight B student Brooke has never been seen as anything too interesting outside of wanting to be a therapist.. Maybe that’s why she never had any friends in school. Brooke has no idea who would want anything from her or her family.. Or at least nothing that she knows..”

Ari Kennedy (He/It)

“Ari Kennedy is a 19 year old high school dropout, his mother is a porn actress while his father is completely out of the picture. He’s a major trouble maker being an anarchist; it’s commonly in trouble with the law though nobody, not even himself, knows how he hasn’t been jailed yet. Ari was just graffiting a billboard when he seeming suddenly fell asleep and woke up in the same scenario as the other. It's the most determined to escape, afraid his mother will do something to herself when he’s gone.”

Lavender Lane (They/She)

“Lavender Lane is a shy, quiet 18 year old, working at their fathers bookstore. Lavender wishes to find purpose in her life outside of their tiny little town. Lavender was home-schooled by their father her whole life, rarely going outside and having no friends outside of their cousins who she’d rarely see. Lavender was researching biology when they passed out at their desk, waking up at the place with the other four. Lavender is terrified, not used to being around people at all hoping she’s making a good impression.”

Hunter Adams (He/Him)

“Hunter Adams is a stereotypical southern 18 living with his alcoholic pa and innocent ma, he plans on one day owning his own fruit orchard. Hunter barely tries his hardest in school, caring much more about his messy family than anythin’ else he’s had to repeat multiple grades because of it. Hunter had just had a massive fight with his father before waking up at the abandoned school, he believes that he’s in just a still dream.. He doesn’t want to believe this is real.”

Juliet Baker (She/Her)

“Juliet Baker is 19 and the richest girl in her neighborhood, being extremely popular for that very reason, though not really having any real friends. She also happens to be a micro-online celebrity going by the name “Ju-Star” online, she mostly streams games and such online. Juliet is lovesick, wishing to date whoever will treat her like a princess like she deserves! One night nobody showed up to Juliet’s stream oddly enough.. She went to bed extremely upset but woke up in this place. She's terrified that she was kidnapped by crazy fans being untrusting of everyone for a good while.”

there's the basics of them and their personality's i have 4 them rn!! Hope they sound interesting

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image ID: Series of tweets from Shane Morris (@/ IAmShaneMorris) on 21 May 19 reading: Y'all wanna hear a story about the time I accidentally transported a brick of heroin from Los Angeles to Seattle? I bet. Alright, let's do this... (a thread)

I was living in Newport Beach, California, kinda just -- trying to figure life out. My buddy Tyler calls e up out of the clear blue, and he's like, "Hey dude, you wanna do the most epic road trip ever?"

I'm like, "Sure."

At the time, Tyler was a boat mechanic in South Florida, so I fly down to Miami, and I end up staying with one of his coworkers for a few days, until I can buy a Honda Shadow 750 for like $2,700. (He already had one, so I got a matching bike so we could share spare parts.)

From Miami, we set off across the United States, staying at the kind of motels along the way you see on movies like No Country For Old Men. If you're going to ride across the United States on a motorcycle, do it on two lane roads. It's worth it.

We end up swinging down through Mexico, and this isn't really important to the story, but we pulled over to rest in the middle of the desert, and these wild horses walked up to us, and were actually like... oddly friendly. They let us pet them. It was super cool. Anyway...

After like 10 days, we made it back into Southern California. He had an uncle in Temecula, and my ex was in Newport Beach, so we both rested for a few days. Riding a bike across the country takes a toll of your body. So we decided to switch it up.

We decided to sell our bikes, and buy a 1979 Dodge Ram van. I want to say we paid like $600 each for it -- $1200 all in. It needed a little work, but the important part was it was all easy stuff. We named the van Cassandra, and wrote our names on the door.

Picture of two people standing in front of a van. Picture of two people sitting on the curb next to a van.

The plan was easy: We'll drive up the Pacific Coast highway, and camp all along the way. We took the middle seats out of the van, so we could sleep in it at night incase it was raining. Then we went to REI to get hammocks for hammock camping.

On our way up, we stopped in Santa Barbara, and picked up my sister. At the time, she was in school at UCSB, and she was planning on flying home to the Bay Area to see our dad, so I was like, "Just come camping on the beach with us." So she did.

2 people standing on the beach.

Driving north, we made it so pretty cool spots, like Bixby Canyon Bridge. All along the way, we're letting anyone who meets us write their name on the van and take a picture. It was... fucking awesome.

Picture of a person sitting on a bridge. Picture of 2 people standing on the edge of a cliff next to the van.

Around Big Sir, our van had its first problem. The rear drum brakes were making awful noises, and locked up. I ended up buying a set of Craftsman tools, end then I did a brake job in the parking lot of a Wal Mart.

While I was there, I was like, "I'm gonna do a few other things." When I got the van, I changed the oil, and... that's it. (I know I should have done more of a tune up, but honestly, the van was running fine. The interior was even pretty nice.)

On these old Dodge vans, the engine access is inside the car, in between the driver and the passenger. I hadn't even lifted it up when I bough it. (I'm an idiot. I know.) So, I decided to change the spark plugs, the fuel filter, and the air filter. I'm So glad I did.

I opened up the engine cover, and sitting right on top of the engine was like, grass, straw and little bits of carpet. A mouse had made a home, right there on top of the engine block. I'm lucky it hadn't started a fire. So I cleared everything out, and changed the plugs/filter.

I remember yelling at Tyler, because he was the one who poured the oil in, and I was like, "How the fuck did you not notice there was a fucking rat's nest on top of the fucking engine block when you were pouring in the oil?!" And he was like, "It's an old car." LOL. WTF.

So anyway, we drive up into Oakland, and meet up with my friends there. We stayed at their house overnight, smoked weed, ate a meal, and chilled out. Then, we set off for Mt. Shasta, and Lake Shasta. (It's a really beautiful lake.)

Picture of a group of people standing in front of the van.

We camp at Mt. Shasta. It's beautiful. The lake was really low, but the water felt great. (Not really critical to the story, but go if you ever get the chance.)

Picture of two people around a campfire. Picture of a bridge.

Finally, we get up into Oregon, into the Cascades, and head into Washington. The whole time, we're hiking, camping, spending time in nature... it's really just one of the coolest experiences of my life. (Not sure what summit this was.)

So, here's the thing about old cars with carburetors - you needs to adjust them for altitude. An ideal fuel ratio at sea level is called stoichiometric -- which means 14.7 parts air, to 1 part fuel. As you gain altitude, you need to lean out your carb jets.

Mount Jefferson is something like 10,000 feet, so as we're driving up, probably around 6,000-7,000 feet, the van starts running way too rich. It was obvious. So... I was like, "Tyler, pull over. I'm gonna lean out these jets."

One a single barrel carb, you're only dealing with a few screws and springs, and basically.. you just kinda guess at it. (LOL.) So, I'm just listening to the engine, and then I would reach over and tap the gas pedal to see how it sounded.

So, Tyler steps out of the van, and I'm hunched over the engine, just twisting on the screws, and I hit the gas, and Tyler is like. "Holy Shit!" At first, I'm like, "Oh my God, something is on fire." So I pop up, and look around and I'm like, "What?"

Tyler, is like "What the fuck is that? I look down at the carb, and I'm like... "I dunno? Which part are you looking at? Does something look broken?" He's like, "No Dude! Look On The Cover!"

I look to my left, on the underside of the engine cover, and there's what appears to be a brick of aluminum foil, and it's taped up with aluminum tape that clamshell cover. Immediately, I'm like, "Oh shit what the fuck?"

So, I stop what I'm doing, turn the engine off, and start slowly prying this aluminum brick off the underside of the clamshell. Tyler is freaking out. (He doesn't do drugs.) He's like, "Oh my God! It's like on cops when they find drugs hidden in the car!"

I get the brick untaped, and then undo like seven layers of foil. They used a Lot of foil on this thing. What I found was a white, perfectly shrink wrapped brick. I thought it was coke, so I cut open a bit of the corner, put some on my finger, and rubbed it on my gums.

Edit of Finn and Jake from Adventure Time with flames and a galaxy background with text reading: Drugs.

If you've ever done coke, you know it's kinda hot, and then it makes your gums numb. This definitely wasn't coke, and I'm not the type of dude who does heroin. (Just, don't do heroin. Seriously. It's no good.)

So, Tyler and I are standing next to each other, when I hear tires on the gravel behind us. Let me paint you a picture: We're standing there with the hood up, clamshell open, side by side, with a brick of pure heroin.

Who do you think rolled up?

Man, a goddamn Park Ranger rolls up behind us. Just so you know, park rangers are the police. They have guns, and they just happen to work in a park. They can arrest you and everything.

I'm holding a brick of heroin in my hands, and there's a park ranger 30 feet behind me. So I reach down, and pretend to go into my tool kit. Thankfully my hands are greasy as hell, and I can pick up some tools. So I slide the brick under the seat.

I pop around with and pretend I'm putting a socket set on a breaker bar, and I'm like, "Oh hey there. How can I help you?" The guy is like, "You guys having trouble?" I'm like, "I'm just trying to jet the carbs." He's like, Oh, I remember doing that when I was your age."

Then he's like, "You ever done it before?" I'm like, "I'm kinda just learning as I go here. We're from California." The dude laughs and he's like, "Here, I'll show you."

So the ranger walks over, and he's like, "I remember these old Ram vans. So much room."

We open up the clamshell, and this guy's knee is like two inches from this brick. Man, I'm trying so hard to act normal, but Tyler? He's not playing it cool at all. He's like, "You know, I'm sure Shane can figure it out. We don't need you wasting your time on us."

The ranger is like, "Oh it's no big deal. Most of the time I'm just telling people to put their trash higher up, so the bears can't get to it." So he's just chatting with us, and I'm telling him how we bought the van and drove all the way up the coast, etc.

Finally, we get the jets set, and the ranger is like, "Alright, you boys stay safe." Lile, he had no clue he was probably two inches away from the biggest drug bust in the history of Oregon state parks.

Once he drives off, Tyler is freaking out, "Oh my God!? What are we gonna fucking do, man?" I'm just like, "Uh, we're gonna make a shit ton of money selling a brick of heroin." So, I wrapped it up, and just stuck it in the bottom of the cooler in freezer bags, under the ice.

Then, we drive up into Seattle, and I call one of my buddies who I know sells a shit ton of weight. I'm like, "Yo ******, we need to talk." I won't go into all the details, but I managed to sell it all to one person. It was lower risk. Plus, I'm not a drug dealer.

For the record, my buddy Tyler wouldn't take any of the money. Eventually, I convinced him to let me give him $600 for the van, so I could say I bought the van myself. (The van was in his name.) But this story isn't over yet...

I end up selling the van to some hippies from Ashland, and then move to Atlanta. About a year goes by, and I'm not even thinking about this van anymore. Then I get a phone call from a number I don't know. I let it go to voicemail.

The same number calls me again, 30 seconds later. So I answer it. "Hello?" The voice on the other line: "Hey, can I speak to Shane?" I'm like, "Speaking?"

Dude is like, hey, my dad gave me your number. He said he sold a van to you about a year ago?

Immediately, I'm like, "Yeah, he sold me a van." The guy is like, "Wow, that's great news. I'm so glad I found you. So, I don't like to talk about this, but I was in jail. I had a substance abuse problem, and I ended up going to jail because I made some mistakes."

I'm thinking, "What's the angle here?" So I'm like, "Oh, well -- that sucks. Anyway, how can I help you?" So the dude goes into this crazy ass long story. He tells me about how he has so many memories with the van. Yeah, it was in his dad's name, but it was his first car.

"I know it's just a beat up old van, but I'd really like to buy it back from you. Dad says you paid something like $1200 for it. I think I'd be willing to go as high as say, $1800 to get it back. The memories are just worth that to me."

The light goes on in my head. Jail. Substance abuse. He wants the van back. He is willing to pay $600 back over what I paid for it. (Street value, bagged up, if you slow-sell it, there was something like $40,000 worth of heroin in that brick.) This dude wanted his brick back.

The guy didn't go to jail because he had a substance abuse problem. No heroin junkie can afford $40,000 in heroin. The guy did tie because he was the plug. So... I decide to make some money.

Picture of Phoebe from Friends doing an evil laugh

I don't own this van anymore, but I definitely know who I sold it to, and I know I can buy it back, so... I start spinning a story. I'm like, "Man $1800 just won't do it. I've put a lot of money into this van, and it's really running like a top now. It's my daily driver."

He's like, "Oh yeah?" I'm like, "Yeah dude. She's in great condition. I redid the carb, the breaks, all the fuel lines, put some tires on it, redid the carpet on the interior, a lot. I've probably put at least $5,000 into this thing." He's like, "Wow, you really did a lot."

So he's like, "Where are you located?" I'm like, "Oh, I'm up in Ashland, Oregon." (Remember: I was in Atlanta.) He's like, Oh, that's not too bad. If it runs as well as you say, I may just drive up there with a friend and then drive it back down here."

So finally he's like, "I respect that you put a lot of work into it. Like I said, the van has a lot of sentimental value to me, and I'm glad to hear you took care of it. I think I could offer you $6200. That's what you paid for it, plus the $5000 you say you invested."

So I said, "Alright, you have a deal." As soon as we hung up, I called the people in Oregon I sold the van to (I kinda sorta knew them through friends), and I was like, "Hey, do you still have that van?" They're like, "Yeah, but it's not running." I'm like, "Oh?"

I was like, "You care if I buy it back from you?" The guy was like, "Dude, I'll sell it for $100 if you just get it out of my driveway." So I was like, "Sold." I booked a ticket to Portland the next day, and then rented a car, and drove to Ashland.

Along the way, I called up the old owner of the van's son, and I'm like, "Hey will you be free to drive up this weekend?" He's like, "Oh yeah. Totally. I can come up." It will only take me two days to drive up there." It was Tuesday. We agreed to meet on Sunday.

I fly into Portland, rent a car, and then get to Ashland on Wednesday. I go to an auto parts store, and buy a battery jumper kit, and some hand tools. I need to get the van running. I go to see the van, and it's sitting there, pretty dusty, but otherwise okay.

TL:DR -- the only thing wrong with the van was a bad battery. This couple just didn't want to spend any money on the van, because they had recently purchased a Subaru Outback. (Go figure. It's Ashland.) So, I changed the battery in an auto parts store parking lot.

Then, I took the van to one of those self cleaning car wash places, and gave it a good wash and vacuum. Honestly, it cleaned up really nice. At this point, I decided to check in with the guy, and kinda fuck with him a little bit in the process.

The guy answers really fast, and he's like "Shane! Hey buddy, what's up?" I'm like, hey, I do want to mention one thing about the van, and I hope this doesn't change your plans about buying it." He goes silent. "What's up?"

I was like, "I don't want you to be mad but, uhm, after I bought the van, my friends and I... we uh... we wrote on the outside of it with permanent marker. I can't get it off. I tried." And I hear him sigh like Hella loud. "Oh, that's fine. I can repaint it."

I'm like, "I want to be fair on the price, because I didn't tell you. So... how about I knock $200 off? I just want to pay whatever is fair to get the marker off." He says, "Thanks for telling me. I'll accept the $200 discount. See you Sunday?" I'm like, "Yup!"

So, next things next: I need to make a fake brick of heroin. So I head to a Goodwill, and buy a medium sized paperback book. It was "The Pelican Brief". I thought that was a funny detail for some reason. (Good book. Also a good movie.)

Then I get in my rental, and took off to Medford, because I couldn't find aluminium tape anywhere near Ashland. I got there, got my tape, and then bought some heavy duty foil in a grocery store. From there, I drove back to Ashland.

Making the fake brick was actually pretty easy. I just wrapped it up the same way I remember the brick being wrapped, and then taped it down with aluminium tape the same way I remember it being taped--kinda like a tic-tac-toe board. They had taped the Shit out of it.

Then... I just kinda waited. On Friday, I got a phone call from the dude letting me know he was on the road, and I said "Hey, my mechanic says we can use his bay in case you want to inspect it." And the dude was like, "Oh that won't be necessary." I'm like, "Oh I insist."

On Saturday, I called a local mechanic and I was like, "Hey, I'm selling my van to some people from out of state, and I was hoping I could give you $50 in case they want to use one of your bays to look under the care for a moment?"

(Car buying tip: Any mechanic worth his salt will take you up on this offer. It's good for both the buyer and the seller to have a mechanic take a look. They know they'll be getting any work on any fix they identify.)

We meet at this local shop on a Sunday afternoon. The guy shows up in a late model, silver Nissan Altima. He's heavily tattooed, and so is his friend. These guys look like real, OG, Mexican bangers. Like, dude is wearing the blue Nike Cortez's and Dickies. It's That look.

Immediately, I realize these aren't the soft dudes I think they are. They're real gangster, they move real weight, and I'm doing something incredibly stupid. I'm about to rip off two guys who look like they bury people neck deep and let coyotes eat your face off.

But I'm there, and they're in front of me, so I gotta go through with it. So I give them a tour. We walk around the van. It's clean. It has tire shine on it. I've washed it, and even waxed it. It looks as good as a 1979 Dodge can look.

The guy is like, "So you've done some engine work?" I'm like, "Yeah, carb, plug wires, distributor, etc." He's like, "Can I take a look?" So I help him lift the clamshell, and there's no rats nest, it's looking clean-ish... and it's sort silent. So I talk...

"When I got in here, there was a Huge rat's nest. I cleaned that out, then I got to work on the carb, the plugs, wires, belts, hoses. It's all new in there." Then, the dude reaches over, and straight up taps the aluminium brick. I start sweating. He looks at me. I look at him.

The first thing that came out of my mouth was. "I didn't bother redoing any of the heat shielding on the clamshell. Honestly, I prefer having some heating coming off the block in the winter, but I can see why you did it. Southern California is hot."

I was trying so hard to play it dumb as hell, and I sold it. He says back to me, "Yeah, this tape costs about $20 a roll, but it's worth it to beat the heat." I laugh, "Yeah, the AC just barely works. I think you've got a leak in the system somewhere."

Then he throws a curveball at me. "Can I take it for a drive?" I'm like, "Oh totally." He's like, "Do you mind if my friend drives behind me, in case it breaks down?" I say, "Oh you go right ahead." At this point, I'm thinking he's going to drive off, never to be seen again.

He's gone for about 20 minutes, and then he comes back. He's got a big smile on his face, and he's like, "Wow, it still drives great. Let's negotiate." So I'm like, "Well, you did say $6,000?" He comes back at me and he's like, "Well, I gotta ship this van back."

I'm like, "Okay, well... what's a fair price?" He says, "You have the title here in your hands?" I say. "Well, actually, I had to do a lost title But I can mail it to you in like a week." (The reality was I did, but I hadn't done the transfer from the couple yet.)

He's like, "Alright, you know, you seem like a good guy. You can mail it in a week?" I'm like, "Yup." He says, "$5000. Because it'll cost me $1,000 to ship. You're a wild man for driving this old beast as far as you did." So we shake hands. It's a deal.

I have a notepad with me, and I say, "Alright, let me write you up a bill of sale." So I write his name, and my name. His address, and my "address" (a local Ashland address where I definitely have never lived), and the "cost" of the vehicle. This is a funny wrinkle...

I said to the guy, "Hey, I'm going to write on the bill of sale that you only paid $1,000 for the van, so you can avoid paying more taxes in California when you go register it." (You pay taxes on the sale.) He's like, "Oh, thanks. I didn't think of that."

Using the hood to press on, I sign my name, he signs his, and then he's like, "Alright, here's the $5,000. Cash." So he hands reaches into his pocket, and when he does, he moves his shirt in such a way that he obviously exposes a gun in his waistband. He pauses.

As he's handing me the cash, he smiles and says, "Thanks for taking care of my van, Shane. I'm relieved to see you left my heat shielding how it was. There's a lot of value in heat shielding. Some might say it's worth quite a bit." He gets this look in his eyes. It's dark.

He continues. "You seem like a smart guy. Smart guys don't talk about things they find. They might even buy new aluminium tape, but be careless enough to leave the roll in the back seat." My throat turned into a knot. Like, my whole mouth went dry as fuck.

He stares into my fucking soul. Like, Into me, fam. Then he gets this big ass smile on his face grabs me by my shoulder, and he smiles, "If you were even smarter, you would have asked for $10,000." The he starts laughing, and the guy he's with starts laughing.

"You know, you're a hustler Shane. What do you do?" I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm a web developer." He says, "You could have been a stone cold hustler in another life. I've never been hustled before, but you had the cajones to get your money. I like that."

They hadn't checked to see what was inside the foil. The only knew that I taped it back. So I went with it. "Well, you know. I found it when I was working on the van. I just didn't know how I'd ever sell it, so it's been in my freezer for a year now." He busts up laughing.

"Homey, you kept it in the freezer? That's wild man." So then we just sorta chop it up outside this mechanic's shop for about 20 minutes. He and I had the same taste in rap music. I wanted to just keep him happy. I was trying to think of my exit plan.

Finally, he's like, "Alright, you know I don't want this van, but ship it to me anyway. Here's $5,000. Keep the change." To be clear -- he had give me $5,000 already for the van, and then gave me Another $5,000. I played it cool. "Close enough to $10K." I dapped him up.

As soon as they left the parking lot, I sprinted into the mechanic's office where he was sitting, and he was like, "Son, that was the most obvious drug deal I have ever seen. I already called the police." I felt my heart go from 0 to one million.

Then the mechanic winks at me, and he's like, "I'm just fucking with you. Man, this is Oregon. Everyone smokes weed. Calm down. I didn't call the cops." He sees my face, and he's like, "You should have seen the look on your face." (I wasn't amused.)

The problem was, the clock was ticking. I didn't know when those dudes were going to open the foil and realize I'd just hustled them, so I was like, "Hey, if I give you $200, will you let me keep that van parked here for two days until I can get it shipped?"

He's like, "If it's here longer than two days, I'm gonna charge you. If it stays here, it's mine." So I was like, "That's fine. I'll be back" (I knew at that moment the van was going to belong to him. I was never coming back. Most states have laws for mechanics like that.)

I walked out of the mechanics office, and then walked literally seven miles back to my rental, parked at my little motel. Ashland is a small town, and I had picked the cheapest motel. I wanna say it was like a Super 8 or something?

The road this motel is on is like, pretty long and straight. Like, you could see a full quarter mile down the road, no problem. As I'm about 400 yards away from the entrance, I see a silver Nissan Altima pull in, and go to the front office.

As I walk closer, I see two guys get out, and I realize it's the same guys. They haven't seen me, but we're staying at the same fucking motel. So, I start speed walking. When I check in, it took a while, so I knew I needed to hustle so I wasn't seen.

I took off the flannel I was wearing, so I'd be in a white tank top. I folded the flannel up super small, and walked as fast as someone can walk without looking like a moron. My room was on the back side of the motel, upstairs.

Basically, as soon as I cleared the vision line of the back wall, I went into a full sprint, and ran as fast as I could up the stairs, and into my room. No sooner than the moment I slammed my door, I went over the the drapes, and peeked out. The silver Altima was driving around.

I shit you not, these guys parked two spaces away from my rental car, and their room was Directly below mine. It's a damn cheap hotel, so I could kinda/sorta hear them talking. Not word for word, but definitely the vocal tones, plus their TV.

When I saw I was quiet as a mouse, I mean, I just sat in bed, didn't turn the TV on, didn't move, and when I had to pee, I held it. I was terrified. Then... I heard it.

I heard the guy yell. (start all caps) "Motherfucker! I'm going to fucking kill him!" (end caps) Then I hear them screaming, but it's not clear what they're saying. They yell for like 15 minutes. Then they get quiet. My phone rings. It's a blocked number.

I sent it to voicemail. It rings again. Blocked number. I sent it to voicemail. Then, I hear them yelling a bit more, and then I hear the door downstairs slam. I peek out of the little gap in the drapes, and watch them take off.

As soon as I saw the car clear the corner, I left.

I grabbed my backpack, flew down the stairs, and got into my rental. I was getting the fuck out of Ashland before I got killed. I had been on the road about an hour when the guy calls me again, this time, from his real number. Not a blocked number.

I answered, "Hey M*****, What's up?" He's yelling, (start all caps) "We've got a fucking problem! You need to bring me my money, right now!" (end caps)

I was did what I do, and talked shit-- "I take it you're not a big fan of John Grisham novels. You should really give him a chance before you get angry."

The dude flew off the handle. Like he's just shouting. (start all caps) "Motherfucker I will kill you!" (end caps) over and over, so finally I'm like, M****. Calm down. Just listen. I think we can make a deal here." So he gets a little less on edge. "What's your deal?"

I said, "Look, I know you're staying at the (Whatever) Hotel. We'll meet up there. You show me you've got your gun on the hood of your car so I know I'm safe." He's like, "Okay. And?" I said, "Then, I'll take back The Pelican Brief, wrapped in foil."

"... and then I'll give you what you really want. A Tom Clancy novel. Everyone loves war fiction." He got quiet. He didn't say shit. "I'll fucking murder you, Shane. You robbed me. You fucking die from this." Then he hung up.

In 2017, the guy I ripped off for his brick of heroin was found guilty, with four other guys, of raping and murdering a 13 year old girl. They were all prominent MS-13 gang members. He got LWOP'd in his sentence. So it looks like he won't be killing me.

... and that's the story of the time I bought a van with a brick of heroin in it that belonged to an MS-13 gang member, sold the brick, and then sold him his van back with a wrapped up John Grisham novel, for $10,000. Somehow, I didn't die.

/thread /End IDs]

[thatlotuscookie]

Hello there. I wanted to make a request, though I'm not sure if this would be possible. It seems you make more anime-based requests, but i want to see if this would be possible sense it said any fandoms were possible.

Could I request HCs of GN! reader meeting the main 6 from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic? Reader is Isekai'd there and is in disbelief of being in Equestria. Happy, but still a lot to take in. No one else knows as reader keeps their past life to themself. Reader is thankful as they meet each pony who helps reader settle into Ponyville.

It's completely fine if you can't do this, there's no problem at all. I wish you the happiest holidays coming up <3

✧･ﾟ: a/n: : anon! first off im so sorry for the delay in writing these. happy holidays to you too, i was super busy. Anyway, yes, while most of my requests are anime-based, I write for any fandom. So whether it’s anime, cartoons, movies, books, or even original works, feel free to drop in your ideas. thank you for the req and your patience :D<3

✧ Title: ✧ Isekai'd to Equestria + Meeting the Main 6 ✧ ✧ Characters: Twilight Sparkle, Apple Jack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Rainbowdash, Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Fantasy ✧ Rating: G ✧ Format: Headcanon ✧ Summary: When you’re unexpectedly transported to Equestria, the Mane 6 each bring their unique brand of kindness to help you adjust to life in Ponyville. Though you keep your mysterious origins a secret, their warmth makes you feel like you might’ve found a new home.

You wake up one day to find yourself in Ponyville, surrounded by bright colors, cheerful faces, and a warm sun that feels almost too perfect. It takes a moment for the realization to hit: you’re in Equestria. While you’re thrilled at first (how many people get to live in a world so magical?), the weight of being far from your own world starts to settle in.

You decide to keep your origins a secret—after all, who would believe you? Slowly, you meet each of the Main 6, and their kindness helps you navigate this strange but wonderful new life.

Meeting Twilight Sparkle:

Twilight is the first pony you meet after waking up near her castle. Startled, she hurries to help you. Her curiosity is boundless. She immediately senses you’re "different" but doesn’t press you when you seem hesitant. Instead, she offers to help you adjust. Twilight is overjoyed to share her library, thinking reading will ease your nerves. She gives you books about Equestrian history and magic. She even offers to teach you basic spells—though they don’t work (you’re not a unicorn), she’s patient and insists you try anyway. You can tell she’s genuinely excited to have you in Ponyville. Her eagerness makes you feel like you belong.

Meeting Applejack:

When Twilight brings you to Sweet Apple Acres to introduce you to the ponies around town, Applejack’s hearty laughter greets you. “Well, howdy there, sugarcube! You new in town?” Her Southern twang is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal world. She doesn’t ask too many questions about where you’re from—she figures you’ll tell her when you’re ready. Instead, she focuses on making you feel at home. Applejack puts you to work on the farm (light work, don’t worry), showing you how to pick apples and care for the trees. The routine helps distract you from homesickness. She sends you home with a bushel of apples, a pie, and a promise: “If you ever feel lost, you’re always welcome here.”

Meeting Pinkie Pie:

The moment Pinkie Pie hears about a new arrival in Ponyville, it’s party time. She bursts into Twilight’s castle with balloons, confetti, and a giant banner reading, “WELCOME TO PONYVILLE, NEW FRIEND!” Pinkie overwhelms you at first with her energy, but her joy is infectious. You can’t help but smile as she plans a party just for you. During the party, she bakes your favorite type of cake (somehow she knows) and introduces you to the whole town. Later, when things quiet down, Pinkie surprises you with a quiet moment of real connection: “I know what it’s like to feel out of place. But don’t worry—you’ve got friends now!”

Meeting Fluttershy:

When Twilight suggests meeting Fluttershy to help ease your nerves, you’re skeptical. But the soft-spoken pegasus wins you over instantly. Fluttershy introduces you to her animal friends, sensing your unease and letting their presence soothe you. A bunny hops into your lap, and for a moment, the strangeness of this world fades away. She doesn’t pry into your past, instead offering gentle words of encouragement. “Sometimes, it’s okay to just be where you are,” she tells you while tending to a bird with a broken wing. Fluttershy’s kindness becomes a lifeline for you when the homesickness gets too much to bear.

Meeting Rainbow Dash:

You meet Rainbow Dash by accident when she zooms past you in the skies, leaving a streak of color in her wake. “Whoa, who’s the new pony—uh, person?” she asks, skidding to a halt mid-air. She’s brash and loud, but her confidence is oddly reassuring. She promises to show you around Ponyville and make sure nopony messes with you. Rainbow takes you flying—well, sort of. She carries you as she zooms through the clouds, and you can’t stop laughing at her antics. “You’re not half bad for a newcomer,” she teases, ruffling your hair. Her playful banter becomes a welcome distraction from your inner turmoil.

Meeting Rarity:

Rarity insists on giving you a makeover as soon as she hears about you. “Darling, you simply must let me help you look your best! It’s the first rule of fitting in.” She makes you custom outfits, each one tailored to your personality. You’re stunned by her generosity. Over tea, you share vague details about feeling out of place. Rarity listens intently, her empathy shining through. “Wherever you’ve come from, darling, you belong here now. And we’re so lucky to have you.”

================================================

The Mane 6 each contribute to helping you adjust: Twilight provides knowledge, Applejack offers stability, Pinkie brings joy, Fluttershy gives comfort, Rainbow inspires confidence, and Rarity boosts your self-esteem. As you settle in, you find yourself growing attached to this vibrant, magical world. The friends you’ve made feel like a new family, and for the first time, you think you might be able to let go of the life you left behind. Late at night, you sometimes wonder if this is a dream. But when you wake up to another day in Ponyville, surrounded by kindness and warmth, you realize you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[liugeaux]

Greatest Songs Ever - Part 27 (Delightfully Diverse)

No need for a huge intro on this one. There's no theme and no through line, just 10 delightfully diverse classics. Oh shit, now I have a name for this post.

1998 "New Noise" - Refused

I have to thank The Bear for this one. "New Noise" was used to great effect in the 3rd season of Hulu/FX's hit restaurant show. Refused has always been a band much cooler than my tastes. Sticking to the punk ethos rather than just the sound, the band has some strong feelings about conformity. This track's intro is a perfect walk-up song, and a perfect first track at a live show, so naturally, it goes first. Blending elements of punk, hardcore, and techno, Refused has a sound that's hard to nail down. "New Noise" sounds at home anywhere between 1975 and 2025 and that's hella exciting.

1965 "In My Life" - The Beatles

My love for The Beatles started when my aunt Lisa made 2-3 mix tapes with basically everything you'd want to hear from them. "In My Life" was one of the tracks she gave me. It wasn't until much later that I realized it was kind of a deep cut. Sure, everyone knows it, but it was never a single and doesn't get the play other Beatles tracks get. It's one of those songs whose words and instruments miraculously communicate the same sentimentality which leads to tears more often than expected.

2024 "Not Like Us" - Kendrick Lamar

One of the newest tracks I've ever included also doubles as the end of Drake's career. I'm not huge fan of 'diss' tracks. They seem petty and short sighted. The shelf life of a diss track is typically VERY short, but "Not Like Us" has transcended being just a diss-track. It does this on the strength of the sample and Kendrick's undeniable flow. As for the diss, the most memorable one is of course the pediphile call-out, the track could have been solely about that and coasted to the hall of fame, but the last verse where Kendrick buries Drake's credibility is absolute destruction. It doesn't take much to see that Drake came into the rap world through the side door, but to lay it all out with the climax calling Drake a colonizer is murder.

1982 "There's Only One Way To Rock" - Sammy Hagar

Not much to say about this one. Hagar is a rock king, and has been on this list before, but last time it was a Van Hagar situation. I know a lot of people would probably include "I Can't Drive 55" but for my money this track is the definitive Sammy Hagar track. It's energy is pure rock and it's self awareness is a mark in its favor.

2021 "good 4 u" - Olivia Rodrigo

Speaking of coming in through the side door, Olivia Rodrigo is not a rock star. I'm not trying to be a gatekeeper here, but anyone who gets their start on a Disney show cannot simply step into the "Rock" genre and be taken seriously. I like to call what she's doing Costume Rock. It's an outsider cosplaying as a rock star either because it's trendy or they think they can make it their niche. Obviously, that doesn't take away from the artist's ability to write great tracks. "good 4 u" is quite perfect from start to finish, but at its core, it's a pop song with chunky guitars, and in the end that's perfectly fine.

1993 "John Deere Green" - Joe Diffie

I've got a country problem. Most of the country songs I've highlighted have been from the early 90s, during the Garth-fueled renaissance of the genre and I don't know how to get out of it. "John Deere Green" is one joke away from being a novelty track, which is really the Joe Diffie sweet spot. All the troupes are here, story-telly lyrics, twangy guitars, and a southern drawl, hell Diffie even sported a mullet in '93. Despite the song's inherent silliness, there's something endearing about the whole love story, and it's hard to hear the song without at least smirking. Oddly enough I want a movie adaption of this weird little tale.

1960 "Will You Love Me Tomorrow" - The Shirelles

Raise your hand if you knew this song was co-written by Carol King. Yeah, me neither. Such a simple song with a pure tone and beautiful performances throughout. As a song from 1960, it sounds exactly of its time, it even feels like a Motown track. If you told me this was a Supremes, Marvelettes, or even Martha and the Vandellas track I'd believe you. I don't have much else to say, except I'm glad this song has made it as a permanent staple of pop culture.

2016 "Death of a Bachelor" - Panic! At the Disco

I've been trying to choose a Panic song for this dumb project for nearly a decade and as you can tell here, I'm a huge fan of the band. However, as consistent as they were for about 13 years they never had a song that just knocked me off my feet. Think of it as a bunch of 7.5s and never a 10. Well "Death of a Bachelor" a song I've always loved, but always overlooked, finally has made the list. As the title song from the album of the same name, this track seems to mark the beginning of the end of the band. Thematically, it's Brenden Urie saying goodbye to a chaotic Bachelor life and thus giving in to the end of youth. It's a beautifully eclectic song with everything from a horn section to an unmistakable hip-hop beat. All of that pairs nicely with Urie's booming vocals.

1988 "Mother" - Danzig

Written as a brash condemnation of the late 80s PMRC, "Mother" is a hard-hitting set-ending banger that is instantly recognizable. Released originally in '88, the song didn't get major airplay until it was released in '93. Maybe the world just wasn't ready for it in '88. What's wild is, that the rock landscape in '93 was wildly different and much less friendly to Danzig's genre of Heavy Metal, but "Mother" was still able to crack through the grunge-filled airwaves.

1980 "Redemption Song" - Bob Marley & the Wailers

This is a song that's been on deck FOREVER. The only reason I know any Bob Marley is because my Music Appreciation professor at Hinds Community College in 2001 insisted on using him heavily in the curriculum. "Redemption Song" feels more powerful than it probably is. Its got a plodding rhythm and a light guitar plucking backing a clearly emotional message. This track can easily sneak up on you, especially if you haven't heard it in a while. Before you know it, there you are, in a pool of tears, wondering where all the emotions came from.

See you next time. I've already got some wonderful tracks to share with you.

Cheers

[citruslullabies]

I'm still not used to writing for Cooper, so any constructive criticism is welcome!!

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic?: romantic

Requested by: no one!! Just a fun lil thing

Category: heavy fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): prewar!Cooper Howard x reader

Word count: 1000

He's a Doll

The apartment had been so quiet, so calm and peaceful. It was almost suspicious just how calm it had been.

It was a nice saturday evening and you were home alone while your spouse was out doing odd jobs, sipping on a cup of tea while reading an article about the war. It was always a topic your partner avoided but you found it interesting, always keeping up to date on the new information coming out.

Cooper Howard, while at one point a well known and beloved actor, had fallen back into the bottom after his divorce with Barbara. A woman you had never met - nor cared to. You honestly were about to give up on the dating game since you were getting older, and age certainly wasn't kind to anyone. You were a 36 year old woman who already had bad back problems and creaky knees, who would want that??

But he did. You both had met when out grocery shopping, with you trying to reach something on the second to highest shelf and trying to regrettably monkey climb and remembering your age in the process.. when all the sudden hearing a chuckle from behind you. And there he was, a very exhausted looking Cooper Howard chuckling at your dispense before helping you out.

The both of you had met when his divorce was still being finalized and custody as well, it seemed like everything was going south for Coop until he fortunately went down the right aisle at the right time. He couldn't even remember how it happened, meeting and then talking and it somehow took off from there. You'd be lying if you said you understood how it happened either.

The radio was playing in the background of the calm little apartment, legs tucked into your side as the hot cup pressed against your lips and a soothing sweet liquid spilled down your throat. With a smile, you continued to read while humming along to the radio station.

“Everyone tells me he's no good

He doesn't love me like he should

I would forget him if I only could

He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll”

The lyrics rung out of the little box, causing you to hum along to the beat and drift off into your own little world inside of your head. The song oddly enough reminded you of Cooper, well, besides the whole cheating aspect.. the lyrics were so sweet and reminded you of the sweet devil you fell in love with.

“That man can look me in the eye

And tell the biggest, sweetest lie

And I forget the lipstick on his tie

He's a demon, he's a devil, he's a doll

Sometimes I make up my mind

That I'll stop being so blind

And tell him off real bad

But then he turns on those charms, and there I am in his arms

And I forget why I'm mad”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you continued to listen, while the song wasn't necessarily about a good relationship it reminded you of yours in a good way. You and Cooper have fought, but he always somehow manages to calm you down before you blow your top off.

The door opened and Cooper was greeted with the sound of music and your humming, which was a pleasant surprise. He closed the door behind him and put his keys up, looking at you in the living room completely off into your own world.. a devious idea sparks in his head.

Quietly, he walked up behind the couch and leaned over just enough to be hovering. He stopped and admired you for a few moments.. the way you seemed so relaxed and at peace, despite that god forsaken news report on the nuclear fallout and war being in your hands. He chuckled quietly and then grabbed your shoulders abruptly earning a startled yelp and a quick swat to the arm.

“No need to get your panties in a twist darlin, ‘m sorry.” The southern cowboy said with a laugh as he saw your irritated gaze, his pearly whites on full display as his eyes were crinkled up. Oh you couldn't stay mad at him no matter how hard you tried.

Your gaze softened in almost an instant when seeing how joyous his face appeared, rolling your eyes playfully as you folded up the newspaper and tucked it into your arm. He smiled when he felt a delicate hand on his cheek from the one he adored, chuckling and placing his larger and rougher head atop your smaller and softer hand. Your hands had callouses, but they were like buttermilk compared to his sandpapered skin. He leaned down and captured your lips with his own, hands sliding down to your hip dips and squeezing softly.

With a content hum, he snaked one hand over to that pesky paper you had rolled up and took it away from you while you were distracted. He was glad to see you after a long day of work, your lips tasting like sweet sun tea with a bit too much sugar but he still accepted the flavor on his tongue happily since it was you. You pulled away and smiled at him, before pressing your cheek against the cushion.

“Well, I'll just accept it as a heads-up that you're sleeping on the couch tonight.” You chuckled as he gave you a fake offended look. He nuzzled his nose against yours with a chuckle, before pouting. “Oh sugar cube, you're so cruel to a poor cowboy down on his luck.”

You both stayed like that for a while, just adoring each other with playful jabs.. the music continuing to be sweet as it filled the room and danced around the both of you.

“He's a palooka, he's a brute

He drives me crazy but he's cute

Why do I love a guy I ought to shoot?

He is a demon, he is a devil, he is a doll~”

I'm working on requests!! Thanks for reading

[moonyasnow]

Li donia Fawq

—Act 1, Scene 1— [ Chapters list ]

Landing

OC(S) : Artemisia OTHER CHARACTER(S) : Jamil, Kalim

OC x TWST : Artemil 🐍x🦢

TYPE : Fic (~4.9k words)

After their fateful meeting, the Servant introduced himself to the Lady, and bid her stay the night at an inn, and he would come fetch her to escort her to her destination come morning...

Touching down amidst the soft white fabric of her feathered bed, fatigue weighted her body down like lead and coaxed her into a deep sleep she would not be woken from until forced back to the world of the living, remaining untouched even by the minaret...

-Artemisia-

The sun boiled high in the heavens, glaring down oppressively, its rays battering down against the modest shade her cloak provided her. The tiny openings at the bottom of the gauzy black cloth covering her eyes letting in slivers of light made her squint. She was at least grateful to have escaped the chatter in the streets which had boomed in her head, grating like cicadas chirping, bees buzzing and seagulls squawking right beside her ear all at once. Taking a deep breath in to relieve the headache and nausea she was not met with the cold and crisp air her body, seemingly ignoring the glaring presence of unfamiliar sensations all around, had expected. No, it was hot and dry.

"We're here."

"Oh—" She forced her feet to stop as he spoke, having entirely forgotten about the person she'd been following at the

Glancing up, she saw what appeared to her as a great palace. Yet oddly colorful, when compared to the silver stone and glass and iron lattice windows she was used to. The stone beneath her feet was a bright, glaring yellow that seemed to burn her eyes the longer she looked at it. Turning her gaze skyward instead, she saw three great domes, turquoise and clad in gold. In her mind she saw an image of one of her sister's perfume bottles, recalling the familiar shape.

The color of the sky surrounding it was less crisp than the cold blue of the winter sky she was used to, as though the sands had splattered a bit of its own color into the sky of the southern lands.

"Is this the Al-Asim manor?"

"It is."

She kept watching it. The only similarities found between this and the castle in which she spent her youth were towers and white walls. There were a few people here and there- someone tending to the soil of one of the large palm trees on either side of the walkway, another sweeping the golden path.

The doors leading into the structure were big and made seemingly of gold, exquisitely detailed and fashioned into a shape she thought she might have seen in an old fairy tale.

"We'll take a side entrance."

"Okay."

But suddenly, before they could reach whatever side-door he had them en-route to, one of those big, golden doors had begun to creak open. Through the opening she saw a young man with silvery hair, clad in white and a turquoise matching the domes pushing open the door. He peeked out of the golden port, and when he looked in their direction, his face lit up into a beaming smile.

"Jamiiiiiiiil!" he waved with one arm, forgetting he was using it to hold the door open and having to quickly shift to stand in a more stable position and hold it with his body.

Beside her, Jamil had tensed as the door was about to fall, and then merely sighed.

The boy had begun to jog over to them. Instinctively, Artemisia hunched up her shoulders and hid behind the one she followed.

"Hey, Jamil! Where'd you go earlier? I was trying to look for you but you—" Her skin prickled. He was looking at her. She closed her eyes and groaned internally.

"Who's this, Jamil? A new friend? Hi! I'm Kalim! It's very nice to meet you, and welcome to my family's home!" ''Jamil'…is that his name? Although there does exist the possibility of it being some form of adress…' she glanced briefly at him from the side. Her stomach fluttered. 'Yet if it is is his name, it is beautiful…' He tried walking closer to shake her hand. But she backed up, mouth having firmly shut of its own volition.

"What's your name? Oh, are you hungry? it's nearly lunch-time and—"

"Kalim."

"Yes, Jamil?"

"You're right; it's nearly lunch-time. I'll make something for you."

The energetic boy's eyes widened at the language he spoke, before his grin returned. "That sounds— that sounds great!" He turned to her again "Hey, you'll join us for lunch, won't you? Jamil's cooking is the best!"

Jamil just sighed quietly nearby.

"I suppose I could..." She spoke in a quiet voice, the loudest she could make her voice in that moment.

"Great!"

The word invaded her earls shrilly.

"Come on, I've just gotta give you a tour while Jamil makes the food! Oh, I'm Kalim by the way! What's your name?"

Shoulders squared and tense with an arm held across her torso as though a makeshift shield, she took up the fabric of her skirt with the other and slid into an unpracticed curtsy. "I am Artemisia…"

"Nice to meet you, Artemisia!" He forwent trying to grab her hand or wrist to drag her off, instead giving her a light push to her back and taking her away to go see the manor. For a second her gaze sought out Jamil to silently plead for help— though he was already gone.

"Where did…?"

"Hm? Where did who what?"

"...Jamil." The name, spoken from her lips for the first time, rang strangely fondly in ears.

"Oh, he's probably making lunch! Now come on, I gotta show you around the place! Oh, will you be staying—"

The boisterous boy's voice for just a moment seemed to fade as she saw, in the distance, a sling of long, dark hair disappear behind a small door.

She couldn't help but watch a second longer— until another push to her back sent her crashing back to reality, shoulders shooting forward and her legs carrying her away from his touch as quick as her body would allow.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Al-Asim estate, hallway ] -^-v-^-v-^-

"Oh, and over there—!"

Her head was pounding. Each time he spoke, standing much closer to her than comfortable, it felt to her body the same as a shrill seagull squawking in her ear. She'd have described it more as a very blunt scraping instrument being dragged along the insides of her ear canals. The first few minutes had been, while not quite pleasant, bearable. Yet coupled with the lights and that she could hear people they passed whispering about her, feel them staring at her, and the constant bombardment of her mind by too many impressions, she had trouble keeping up with the speed of his monologue.

Her back ached from the tense rigidness her body had been locked into since the tour had begun. Her mind was spinning and spinning so quickly she could not make out a single thought, making her throat constrict as a light wave of nausea swept through her.

At last she could not help but stop dead in her tracks, closing her eyes in a vein attempt to ward away the headache, and putting her hands over her ears with gritted teeth to deprive her overstimulated senses.

"Hey, are you ok?"

She could not speak a single word in reply. Perhaps she could have, had she wished, but she did not. She squeezed her lips closed, as tight as they would go, pressed her hands tighter over her ears, and took a long, deep breath through her nose before exhaling shakily.

"I...I apologize..." She spoke in a small voice, eyes still closed and ears still covered. "I am...somewhat tired."

He stood on, merely watching her, and she was grateful for the silence. After a few more breaths, she removed her hands and opened her eyes into slivers.

She opened her mouth to speak—

[*gro~owl*]

"Ah!"

She suddenly felt very much like hiding her face behind her hair, her neck already bowing down.

"...I did not awake in time for breakfast..."

"Oh, why didn't you say so? Come on, let's go eat!"

"Huh? What of the tour?"

"Relax, relax! We'll finish the tour later; food comes first! What kind of host would I be if I let my guest go hungry? Ha-ha!"

Having realized the cue by now, she pushed her feet forward before he could push her again, and within long, they arrived at a pair of large doors at the end of an L-shaped hallway, situated in the corner. Next to it, an open arch lead a walkway out to a large balcony.

And beside the doors stood Jamil.

Her mind, like a mill without a stream, only seemed uninterested in focusing on anything but following where the other two lead.

Eventually she found herself seated inside a large room with shining marble floor smothered by piles and piles of rugs and sitting pillows in so many colors that it made her dizzy. The glass-less windows were as tall as the walls themselves, and covered only by dark teal curtains hanging from the golden pillars.

She'd crammed herself as far into the shadows as she could, that being directly next to one such curtain, sitting on the opposite end of the low table from the two boys.

She digested the news she had been given slowly, watching the shoulders of the white-haired boy, drenched in too much sunshine for her to see.

"Are you...not the Head of House Asim?"

She could already feel the cogs in her mind speed up and send anxiety flooding through her chest, draining her body of warmth.

"Nope!" The red-eyed boy shook his head, causing the gold liberally covering his person to jingle. "That's my dad. He's off doing some important business this month. Soooooo! He put me in charge 'til he gets back!"

Beside him, shaded from the rays of light flooding through the room by the one sat next to him, Jamil shook his head and sighed.

"Only with small matters. Big decisions are to be put on hold until he gets back."

She clung to his every word with rapt anticipation, even as they caused dread to fill her stomach.

"Speaking of..."

Her hairs rose up in warm goosebumps when she felt him level his gaze at her, and her skin subsequently catch on fire. She only dared a single, cautious glance at him, though the sight of his gaze shot through her body almost violently, and she aimed hers at her lap once more.

"Yesterday you said you had an errand here. What was it?"

"I..." Her voice almost faltered.

She cautiously withdrew the fresh parchment from the pile of time-worn ones, and placed it gently on the table in front of her, laser-focused gaze not leaving it even as the energetic young man tried to take it, only for the other to grasp it first, eyeing the red wax seal and gasping.

"This is— the Crest of the Silkmires...!"

"The royal family from the Land of Dawning?" Kalim loudly parroted.

"Shh!"

"Oh—" he covered his mouth. "Sorry!"

She was witness with bated breath to the two of them breaking open the seal to read the words written on the parchment-- one in pure silence, the other mouthing the words in a whisper to himself.

In that moment she didn't want to say or do anything at all. All she wanted was something, anything, familiar.

She put her hand over her left breast pocket, where the felt the crinkle of old papers filled with memories, granting her new resolve. Nothing was more important than the purpose which had carried her so far from home.

"Oh, you're a princess?" 'Kalim', as Jamil had introduced him, asked, head popping up from where it had been bent to better read the letter. She could feel Jamil's eyes boring into her as well. She flustered.

"Yes..." She nodded.

"And all the way from the Land of Dawning! So what made you come to the Scalding Sands? Did you just wanna visit? I've always wanted to see the Land of Dawning!" his eyes remained firmly on her.

"That is…"

She heard a gasp and crinkle of paper. ("The Sultana is...?!")

"My... My sister Cerise left our home to be married to the Crown Prince of the Scalding Sands many years ago. I have not seen her since. And now…"

She still recalled the sad smile on her sister's face the day she left.

"She is sick..." Her voice turned to a whisper. She swallowed, her voice already strained from talking for the longest consecutive time in her life.

"She...wrote to me to convey as such. It was the first correspondence I had received from her in years. And so I..."

She closed her eyes...

She imagined Cerise, her maroon hair and tan skin illuminated only by the few candles lit in Artemisia's dark tower chamber, yet seeming always to glow brighter than all of them combined. She sat backwards on a chair in her riding habit, having come straight to Artemisia after her lessons for the day were finished. With her arms crossed on the top rail, she listened to her with rapt attention and a genuine smile, nodding her head along and asking follow-up questions to subjects Artemisia would only years later realize she had no personal interest in whatsoever.

...and drew in a deep breath.

"I have traveled here with the goal to speak to my sister in person one last time…to be allowed to at the very least say goodbye…" Her brows scrunched together and she had to stop herself from palming the letters in her pocket too hard, lest the old paper tear.

"Did Franzesca let you on her ship?" She could hear the smile in the sunny boy's voice.

She nodded.

"I begged her to let me board her vessel, and for passage to the Scalding Sands. I offered to pay her in all the jewelry I owned... I was close to tears through my entire plea."

Cowering her head, she took a moment to swallow and breathe, bringing one pale hand up to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes.

"She— she took pity on me, and informed me that, were my parents to find out I had left on her vessel, she would claim she had no knowledge of me stowing away on the ship..."

"That sounds just like her!" He nodded along with his own assessment.

Artemisia nodded in response once more, unsure of what else to do.

"Well! Now she's entrusted you to me, of course I'll help you!" He clapped his hands together and leaned closer over the table. "I'll write to the Sultan, and ask to visit her! Or if she can come here!"

"Truly?" Her pulse surged to life with desperation in her ears.

"Of course! I've got some cousins who are royal, so I'm sure it'll work out!"

"Thank you...thank you..."

She bowed her head again, squeezing her eyes shut tight to keep back the tears threatening to run down her face.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Later - Al-Asim estate, laundry room ] -^-v-^-v-^-

Sitting on a stool in a closed-off room filled with wooden buckets, instruments she'd read of in books as being 'washboards' and the scent of soapy water, she fiddled with her skirt for the nth time that day.

The steady, rhythmic sound of the wet fabric being dragged against the rivulets of the washboard was soothing, in a strange way.

Though her gaze still couldn't help but dart around the room, despite already having looked at every nook and cranny of it long ago. Her eyes settled on the one thing, besides from the turning of day to dusk outside the window, which did constantly change; the pile of laundry. It had become rather small at this point.

"...Pardon me..." Left her like a whisper.

"Yes?" His head didn't turn from where it was, neck bent to better see the laundry in the tub.

"Is there something I could help with?"

The sigh he let out came as expected.

'Yet what else could I say?'

"I've said it three times already; there's nothing you could help with."

Rising up with the latest cleaned cloth, he brought it over to one of the long lines of rope hanging from one side of the room to the other; only the foremost of which was not entirely covered in cloth. The floor beneath them had been fashioned into a long series of many grates, so as to keep the water which dripped from his work from staining the floor as they dried.

Clutching her skirts in her lap and bowing her head in shame, she spoke:

"I...am aware... My apologies..."

He sighed once more, quieter this time.

("If you're so bored, why are you even here?") He cursed something in a foreign language under his breath.

She deigned not to answer.

("...I guess it wasn't exactly her choice. I swear, he'll lead me to a death by stress.")

Feeling the seconds stretch on too long for her liking, she spoke up once more:

"Pardon me..." She could already imagine the new sigh he was sure to heave, so continued before he could utter it: "Might there be something for me to read? If not in this room, then somewhere close? If I cannot be of any assistance to you, I would like to request a way to engage my time. No matter what manner of book it is, I would not mind; even an instruction manual would do well."

He paused for a long moment, seemingly caught in thought. Before at last, he went to the small bag she'd seen slung over his shoulder previously that day, laying next to the entrance of the room. Going through the contents, he at last retrieved something. With each step he took closer to her, her heartbeat grew a few decibels louder as it rang through her ears.

When his at once both strong yet slender hand extended the object to her, she dared not raise her eyes to see his face.

"...Thank you..." She kept her voice steady with great exertion, and let go of a breath she hadn't been aware of holding when he stepped back to the tub.

She placed a hand over her heart.

'Oh pray be still, you dysfunctional beast! What has gotten into you?'

Yet beat and beat and beat it still did for many long seconds. Her anxiety at feeling it act up likely didn't help relieve it.

When at last it had slowed and she leveled her focus at the book he'd brought her, she felt a warm light ignite in her chest, seeing the familiar name on the cover. She removed a glove to feel the material of the cover with her own hands.

'It is old... I must take care with it.' And so she did as she softly opened the cover.

"This is…" Covering a gasp with her hand, she carefully flipped through the pages of the old tome, treating each time-worn, wrinkled page with the delicacy of one handling a snowflake. She stopped to read the notes in the margins.

"The merchant said it was some kind of find. I assume your reaction means she was telling the truth."

Artemisia nodded. "Yes…this is incredible!" she felt the corners of her mouth be tugged up into a smile. "This is a truly antique copy of a book of old fables— one of the oldest written records of various Land of Dawning myths. As it is handscribed— it appears by a scholar by the name of Leveret— this may very well be one of the first copies!"

Glancing up, she saw a thoughtful expression on his face, bordering on a smile.

"It is a shame I do not currently have access to my family's repository of texts…" She flipped through the pages of the aged tome delicately, as though handling a snowflake. "I would have loved to comb through them to be able to place a definitive date for this copy. Yet, nonetheless, it is an incredible find. ...Though, I suppose I have said as much already. Pardon me…I become rather rhapsodic when it comes to all literary matters."

Enraptured in her joy at reading the familiar fables she had grown up with, he almost missed him mutter:

("I thought the Silkmire family only had two children…how come I've only heard of Sultana Cerise and Prince Valerian before?")

Like cold water being poured over an open fire, her shoulders sagged.

'...I should not be surprised that he would wonder… Anyone who meets me would, I am certain, knew they only of two royal children of my homeland.'

= Such is for the best. = Spoke a Dove from betwixt the frigid metal bars of a silver cage. = Mother always said as much. And was she not right? =

"...I was born a sickly child, and remained as such well into my early teens, and even now. It was not known whether or not I would survive childhood. I suppose that is why the King and Queen have not mentioned me much… As a precautionary measure…"

~ We are well-aware that is not the full story, are we not? ~ She made a vein attempt to tune the Swan out.

~ It is a lie, and we both know it well. ~ She shrunk farther into herself. ~ Logically the above statement would be likely. But prejudice against those who look different is not logical— at least not when it is your own child. ~

'...Mother had her reasons. She was merely worried for my sake.'

= And with the way people stare...do we not have proof her worries were well-founded? =

She could feel his eyes on her, prickling her skin, and glanced up from the book to see him staring at her. "Is…something the matter?" she asked, brows knitted in concern.

She gripped the edge of the book, careless at this point of bending the antiquity.

'Please do not say it…'

He stayed baffled for just a second, before he cleared his throat and answered:

"No, nothing." As he swiftly looked away.

Her shoulders lost their tenseness and sagged with an exhale of relief.

Letting a moment longer pass, she gazed once more at the book.

She couldn't decide whether she'd rather keep reading or hold it against her chest like a makeshift shield.

"...This 'Philosopher's stone'..." He spoke in the quiet. "Could you tell me more about it?"

The latter sentence sent a wind, light and airy, carrying away the heavy debris from her heart, igniting in its place a spark of hope.

"You...wish to hear more of it? Truly?"

She unconsciously leaned forward. Voice tinged with disbelief, she gripped the fabric of her dress as she felt familiar, beloved stories flood her mind.

"I haven't come across it in my—...supervision of Kalim's studies."

"I see..." She fought to keep a smile off her face, fiddling with her skirts.

She cleared her throat.

"The Philosopher's Stone is an old legend of my homeland. It is said it was created in some alchemical experiment an unknown time ago… What makes it special is that it is said to bring something to whoever is currently possessing it. The exact estimation of what that gift would be varies widely depending on which retelling you hear, and from whom…"

She raised one finger. "Yet they all, in the end, boil down to the same essence: power. Whether it be through gold enough to purchase an entire kingdom, magical knowledge enough to lay waste to civilizations, or merely just the essence— power, of some unspecified kind."

She spread her hands out as though to gesture to something laid before her. "It has sometimes been used as a fairy tale of sorts; a caution's word, speaking in warning to be wary of what one wishes for, and of the consequences wishes not-thought-through might bring."

She imagined before her tales of ancient kings, of desperate widows and widowers, of scholars seeking endless knowledge— tales cruel, of the desire of people eating like a rot at all they still had and stripping it from their begging hands.

"It is sad, and cruel...and yet it has fascinated countless generations of scholars and bibliophiles alike... And some people believe it's possible to master it. To not fall prey to whatever curse of misfortune has seen fit to haunt it."

She imagined where she was when she chanced upon those select tomes. Saw visions of a young girl standing on the tips of her toes, small hands reaching the very tips of her fingers higher and higher into the shadows of a library containing the words of people eons since passed on- to the next life, to some great journey perhaps, or simply snuffed out like the candlelight she relied on to read those very same passages, and snuffed out herself once her eyelids grew too heavy to keep open and the misty tendrils of sleep claimed her mind.

He scoffed lightly. She saw on his face what she perceived to be a troubled expression of some kind, his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth bent down.

"Do you not like the story?"

A moment of silence passed.

"...It's foolish, for anyone to think a stone could make any wish come true. It sounds too good to be true."

She paused. She considered his words.

"Perhaps it is... I have asked myself as such countless times."

She placed her hand over her heart.

The flapping of a bird's wings stole her from her visions with a soft gasp of surprise signalling her return to the waking world. She blinked, brows raised high, and the visions faded, replaced by her two white, smooth, empty hands.

Her eyes searched for the bird she'd heard. Upon not seeing one, she rose from her seat and went toward the window next to the counter. She felt his eyes on her.

"The bird…"

"Bird?" He parroted.

"...Perhaps…I simply imagined it."

"It's possible that you did hear one. Many migrate south this time of year." He gestured for her to gaze further down at the courtyard, where she saw a cluster of ashen brown birds.

"Yes, so I have read… To escape the cruel, frost-laden clutches of winter. I have seen them leave every year for all my life. Yet all I knew was they ventured to 'warmer climates'. I had not imagined they would go as far as to come here, so far from their homelands." Her sight trailed upwards to a single white dove perched on a rooftop. She followed its gaze to the crowd of its not-quite peers.

"...Logically I am aware the story is one of caution... And yet..."

She followed its gaze to the crowd of its not-quite peers.

"I can understand why so many would choose to believe the legend. The yearning for the mere chance, even if false, to change your fate, a yearning so strong it thrums through your very bones..."

The dove spread its wings and in a single leap, flew into the air. With another flap of its wings, it was off, setting course for the deep red dusk sky, the traces of her envious gaze clinging to its feathers.

Yet, inexplicably, it was the same sky that stretched to her homeland. A sky filled with so many birds, of so many lands.

Of endless possibilities.

And there she stood, watching on from the ground.

Just as she always had.

"...You sometimes feel it might drive you mad."

"If I may ask…" His voice snapped her out of her revelry.

"Hm?" She muttered on instinct, head turning to see him standing at the next window over, gazing too at something far away in the sky.

"You mentioned the White Rose, and captain Cross. Did she and her crew take you all the way to Silk City, from the Land of Dawning capital?" His voice bordered on disbelief.

Artemisia merely nodded.

"...If I ever see her again, I do not know how I would ever repay her. I never thought I would ever be able to come this far. Were it not for her, her crew and vessel, I am certain it would never have come to pass."

A blanket of silence fell over the room with finality.

As the last syllable left her lips, she swallowed at the feeling of her throat stinging faintly from overuse.

Her eyes widened in shock.

'We just…had a conversation. A real, full conversation!'

She'd spoken to others before, but never like this. It had never come so naturally. Throughout them all, she had always felt a cornered duckling, rightfully ashamed of daring to show her face, to be seen at all. Never before had her thoughts and ideas been taken seriously for what they were— even less so by someone who seemed so utterly unconcerned with her, for so she saw it, ghastly appearance.

No, this discussion was like one of the scenes she read and reread and yearned to experience over and over again in her favorite books; just two minds, on even ground, engaging in a discussion.

Her heartbeat pitter-pattered in her chest, her body floating amidst the twilight's gilded clouds.

'So this is what it feels like, to have a discussion with someone...' The tops of her cheeks warmed gently with the realization.

The quiet of the world outside her mind was only broken by the sound of the wind coming from outside the windows; the same wind which now played gently with his hair.

She couldn't tear her eyes away, the sight of his bangs fluttering gently in the wind, allowing for faint glimpses of his face to be seen through the curtain of his hair. Glimpses that made the loud beating of her heart swell in rhythm to the swaying wind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I had originally planned to use some Arabic in this fic— that's what the purple text is supposed to be— but then I realized that if I tried to do that, I would never actually get this out

So yeah just be aware that whenever you see purple text in the future, that means they're speaking Arabic Considering maybe changing it in the future, but for now I'll keep it like this

(side note if you find any typos please lmk bc I don't have time to go through and check right now)

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night @theolivetree123 @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @justm3di0cr3

@screamintoad

[thatpunnyperson]

I dont usually opine on these posts, but I used to think I was just getting a cold, when the reality was actually that I was getting allergic rhinitis, and then THAT was then giving me sinus infections and stuff. The friend in question here probably is having winter allergies and those allergies are making her sick, so technically you're both correct, but you are a bit of an asshole for being so adamant about it not being allergies. I'm putting my lengthy explanation under a cut because I apparently had a mini lecture locked and loaded:

We're all familiar with how spring brings flowers blooming and lots of pollen, so getting allergies and getting sick is expected. However, in the winter, people tend to stay inside where its warm and dry, but that often means running the heater, and the heater tends to kick up dust and allergens in your home, which inevitably find their way into your body. THIS is what makes people get sick in the winter, less than the cold weather itself. The cold weather and the fact that it oscillates wildly between sopping wet and bone dry leads to discomfort and a tendency for your body to not be able to fight off infection as efficiently; but the staying indoors with the heater on making the air super dry and dust-filled is the real culprit.

Oddly enough though, this is another way masking helps. If you wear a mask indoors, you not only filter a lot of the airborne allergens out of the air your breathe in, but you also increase the relative humidity of that air once it passes through your mask and into the area UNDER the mask, which in turn keeps everything properly moist.

I cannot overstate how bad dry air can be to breathe, and I am someone who lives in southern california where we get an average humidity in the 20% range for 10 months of the year. (We get winds that are specifically called The Santa Ana's because they blow west from the Mojave Desert and push hot, dry air towards the Pacific Ocean, thereby blowing away any of the nice moist marine air that the ocean has so graciously tried to give us. This is what leads to a lot of brush fires, also, because the Santa Ana's dry out all the plants on the hills and then it literally only takes a single spark from static electricity or a cigarette butt or fireworks or a downed powerline to set the entire hillside ablaze.)

The dry air dries out your mucous membranes and prevents them from being able to move gunk around and out of your airways, but critically it also makes your exterior skin crack and become open to catching airborne gunk. Few things are worse than getting chapped lips that bleed and then get infected because the cracked skin couldnt heal properly. Or getting a nosebleed and then the scab cant properly form over the wound in your nose because it's too dry, so you then accidentally crack the scab and you make it bleed again, just by, like, rubbing your nose gently.

And because sinuses drain UP for some ridiculous reason, when the dry air dries your sinuses out, the fluid becomes too thick and hard for the little hairs in your sinuses to wiggle that mucous up and out, and gunk caught in the sinus fluid ends up staying in your sinuses and causing an infection. AND sometimes your sinus fluid cant catch the gunk in the air at all because it's not wet enough to be sticky, and the gunk flows right through your sinuses and into your lungs, where it then gets caught in your LUNG mucous, where it then causes an infection if the lung mucous dries out too much.

We can tolerate a lot of drying out, as humans, but the problem with dry, winter air, either from running the heater inside or from it being so cold out that all the water in the atmosphere freezes, is that it gets into our whole system and can suck the moisture out of almost all of our mucous. And humans run on mucous.

Also, because people dont sweat as much in the winter because it's cold out, we tend to not drink enough water/fluids, which FURTHER contributes to us slowly dehydrating ourselves. Therefore, to anyone reading this, if you or a friend tends to get sick this time of year, drink fluids. Doesnt matter what kind, as long as you keep yourself hydrated. Theres a reason why cold weather beverages tend to be things like tea and cocoa and hot broth: they are mostly water and the steam also helps when you take that breathe before taking a sip. You breathe in that hot broth steam and then you sip the broth itself, and the steam also goes back up and out your nose as you breathe out after swallowing, and your sinuses are like "hell yeah" and your lungs are like "hell yeah" and your kidneys are like "wait, what's happening? is someone sending us fluids to process?" because it takes a little while for those fluids to hit your system.

If you find that you often get sick in the winter, consider getting a small air filter for the room you spend the most time in, or consider wearing a mask. It doesnt have to be the best fitting mask because it has to just increase the humidity around your mouth and nose, and even the paper surgical masks do that. Heck, even a scarf over your mouth and nose can increase the humidity enough to make a difference.

AITA for insisting my friend doesn’t have allergies?

This sounds bad but essentially my friend always gets sick in the winter. She says that she has winter seasonal allergies and the first time she brought this up I pointed out that there’s nothing to be allergic to in winter and that they probably just have a cold. (They don’t dress very warm.) They seemed to get really upset at me for whatever reason. It’s been like 2 years and they never brought it up, but again they are complaining about their seasonal allergies. I said they should probably just take some cold medicine and they became annoyed, saying that it wasn’t particles but the change in season itself that makes them sick? And I said that’s not how allergies work (also bc of climate change it’s not even that cold in winter anymore) but I just dropped it and didn’t say anything when they talked about it again.

What are these acronyms?

[theghostpinesmusic]

Sky Lakes Loop (1/3)

This is my first trip report for a hiking route that I came up with myself!

Most of the backpacking trips I go on are along generally-known routes using itineraries that others have established: whether they're along sections of the PCT, other, local trails, established climber/scramble trails, or some combination of all of those things (like my Three-Fingered Jack trip was), they tend to be routes that are widely known and take place fully along established trails. You can read about them ahead of time online, usually they (or something like them) can be seen on AllTrails, and so on.

Occasionally, I'll do a trip where most of the itinerary is established, but I'll throw in some random bushwhacking and/or other deviations if I'm comfortable enough with the area. For example, when Lindsey and I did a circumnavigation of the Three Sisters in 2018, we were following an established itinerary (and had in fact gotten the idea for the hike originally from some generic "Best Backpacking Trips In the U.S." article online), but we deviated from the route on day two to bushwhack/scramble up, along, and over the eastern shoulder of South Sister rather than taking the trail so we could see the Chambers Lakes (which aren't on a trail, per se) and camp at Camp Lake). This happens to be an example where we were both deviating from the "usual" itinerary and leaving the trail to do so. I don't do this all that often, but one thing I do like to do is use GaiaGPS to find way to knit existing trails together in a way that allows me to do a hike that isn't based on someone else's established itinerary but doesn't require a lot of off-trail routefinding.

Like most wilderness enthusiasts, I have my fair share of misgivings about AllTrails, Facebook, etc. as apps that help drive an unprecedented amount of (often underprepared) hikers to previously "hidden" wilderness areas, but there's also something to be said for their ability to make known places that I (and others) would never have stumbled upon without them, especially if you live in, say, the middle of nowhere in southern Oregon. It's difficult to come down too hard on these apps without feeling like a hypocrite, as I wouldn't have learned about all of my favorite backpacking loops in the Trinities as well as many other routes like the Broken Top Loop without them. It's great in a lot of ways to be able to identify some of the best-regarded hikes in your area in seconds, get up-to-the-day trip reports from other hikers, and know exactly what the trail will be like before you go. The wilderness will still always throw unexpected joys and challenges in your way as you hike; sometimes it's nice to feel like the initial details, at least, are predictable.

That said, there's no real substitute, in my opinion, for the feeling of sitting down with a bunch of maps and nerding out for an hour or two, stitching trails together, measuring mileages and distances between water sources, wincing at elevation gain estimates, and ultimately coming up with an itinerary that's all your own, then going out there and getting to walk it for a few days.

So, the point of this over-long and overly-caffeinated introduction is to set up my trip report for my most recent backpacking in the Sky Lakes Wilderness.

Sky Lakes, besides having the objectively best wilderness area name, is sort of my "home" wilderness. It's just north of Klamath Falls, and hiking into it from the Cold Springs trailhead, where I started this hike from, requires only about a forty-five minute drive from my house. Mountain Lakes Wilderness is actually an even closer drive, but Sky Lakes is a bit more expansive and allows for longer trips. I'm hoping to do an overnight trip into Mountain Lakes later this summer, though, so I'll write about that if/when the time comes.

In addition to having "local" appeal, Sky Lakes is rarely traveled. As you'll hear about later, it was oddly full of people during my most recent visit, but I've been going there for ten years and more often than not encounter literally no other people, unless I'm climbing Mount McLoughlin on a weekend, when you'll typically see 20-30 others over the course of a 6-8 hour hike.

All that said, Sky Lakes sports lots of beautiful trails and (surprise!) a ton of alpine lakes. What it doesn't have, to my knowledge at least, is any "marquee" backpacking routes. So, a few years ago, I made up my own.

Basically, this is a loop hike that encompasses the Heavenly Lakes/Isherwood Lake basin, the Trapper Lake/Marguerette Lake basin, and the Seven Lakes basin. The great thing about this loop is its variety: you can access it at different points from at least four different trailheads, and along the way there are a few variations that you can throw in depending on how far you want to hike, how much you want to climb, and/or how many lakes you want to see. I've done the loop a few times now, and even managed, once, to do it as a sort of figure-eight, which was fun.

Because I'd done the loop a few times before, it was low on my priority list this summer, but two weeks ago everywhere else was smoked out due to some new wildfires both north and south, and yet the K-Falls area had beautiful blue skies. I had a few free days and I realized I'd never done the loop counter-clockwise before. And, honestly, I don't need much more of an excuse than that to hike in the woods for three days at the best of times. So, one forty-five minute drive later, I started north from the Cold Springs trailhead into Sky Lakes.

I've stared this loop from a few of the other trailheads before (Cherry Creek TH, Nannie Creek TH), but they all add a four-to-five-mile "lollipop stick" to the loop, whereas starting from Cold Springs has you on the main loop immediately. The lollipop hikes are beautiful in their own right, but they're all further drives from home, and I felt familiar enough with them from past experience that I was happy to get right to it this time from Cold Springs.

The Cold Springs trail heads north and pretty much immediately enters a burn zone, this one from the 2017 Pelican Fire. It doesn't effect much of the trail and it's one of only two small burn zones along the whole loop. It might be a bit jarring if you aren't used to hiking through burn zones, but who isn't these days? This time of year, there's plenty of regrown understory to gawk at, including an enormous amount of fireweed.

Almost immediately, you hit the wilderness boundary and then an intersection. You can go right or left and stay on the loop either way (basically you are circling the first of three basins here). I went left because I usually go right. I would take the "right-hand" path on the way back two days later. The left turn takes you out of the burn zone quickly, and then past Notasha, Elizabeth, and Isherwood Lakes. Isherwood Lake, in particular, has an awesome camp spot that I always ogle but never camp at because it always falls during a weird part of the hike where it never really makes sense to stop for the night. That was the case here, too, but I stopped briefly to take in the view and drink some water.

From here, the trail loops back around to join up with the "main" Sky Lakes Trail, and I continued north. If you look at a map of the area, there area a ton of off-trail lakes throughout this section of trail. I've never bothered to bushwhack to any of them except for Lake Liza, but I'd love to take the time to do so someday. This time around, I kept heading north, while occasionally catching blue glimpses of the rogue lakes to my left and right.

The trail climbs a little over the next few miles as you head toward the Trapper Lake basin, but it's nothing unmanageable. This is also one of the few parts of the trail you have to repeat if doing the entire loop: there's only one trail that joins these two lake basins, which means you've got to deal with it twice. It's not bad, though, and quickly enough you're at one of my favorite lakes in the entire loop: Trapper Lake.

I'd share a photo of this now, but since I cross-post to Instagram and it only allows ten photos, I'll save my Trapper photos for when I write up days two and three of the hike. Suffice to say it's pretty great.

In the past, I've always gone "right"/northeast from this basin to continue onto the next portion of the loop, so this time I mixed things up and went "left"/northwest instead. This actually takes you south for a bit as you wind around below the cliffs that tower above Trapper Lake and past some smaller lakes (including the named Lake No-See-Um and some unnamed ones too). Then you start the first "legit" (take that however you want) climb of the trip.

In total, you gain about eight-hundred feet here. You're in the shade of the forest for the first half, but the second part is pretty exposed. Fortunately, it's beautiful in a particularly southern Oregon way. Once you've climbed about four hundred feet, you'll realize that you're standing on the cliffs you saw previously from below, and you can look down from above and understand how Sky Lakes got its name.

From here, you continue to climb and somewhere along the way the wilderness takes on a much more alpine character. After some particularly steep switchbacks, Mount McLoughlin comes into view for the first time.

Shortly after this, you merge onto the PCT to continue heading north. Though it isn't named, this a pass of sorts, as you top out on the western shoulder of Luther Mountain. If you like punishing yourself for some reason, you can summit Luther Mountain from here; while the approach is really steep and loose, it's obvious and "easy" to follow, and it's certainly the easiest way to summit the mountain if you have to. I did it five years or so ago and wouldn't recommend the experience.

Anyway, on the PCT I almost immediately started crossing paths with some thru-hikers, all of whom stopped to chat and assumed that I was also a thru-hiker, heading north. Not true, but it always feels good to pass as someone capable of hiking 2,600 miles nonstop, even though I'm not.

The first stretch of the PCT here takes you through the loop's other burn zone, much of which burnt twice in 2014 due to two different fires. Like the burn zone near Cold Springs, though, this one has had some time to grow back, and with the fireweed and wide open views of the surrounding mountains in all directions, it's actually one of my favorite parts of the loop.

Right before you exit the burn area, there is an intersection with the excellently-named Snow Lakes Trail, which I planned to pick up on my way back through the second half of the loop the next afternoon. For now, I took a break in a small patch of shade next to the trail sign, then continued north on the PCT.

This section traverses along a steep ridge for a bit, with some excellent views off to the west, before passing right underneath the summit of Shale Butte. You can scramble up this one, too, and if you like scrambling on shale plates, this is a pretty short climb for a solid payoff. Otherwise, you continue north beneath the intensely-named Lucifer Peak and then come to an intersection where either right or left can eventually get you to the Seven Lakes Basin, the third of the three basins along the loop and the northern "top" of the loop.

Again, I usually go right here, so instead I went left. You pass underneath two more named summits - Jupiter and Venus - here and then you come to an intersection with the Seven Lakes Trail.

Fun aside (because there haven't been enough of those in this post already): if you're of the peak-bagging persuasion and aren't adverse to a little off-trail scrambling, you can approach the basin via this trail and, instead of descending into it, follow along the ridgeline and climb seven peaks in one day. I did this once way back when and got six of the named highpoints before a downpour forced me to head back to the car instead of climbing Violet Hill, which would have been the seventh.

On this particular day, I was descending into the basin instead of bagging summits, so I went east. From this intersection, you descend pretty quickly into a beautiful alpine pine forest, and continue descending through mixed forest and rockpiles before reaching the first of the seven lakes of the Seven Lakes Basin: South Lake.

South Lake is nice, but I bypassed it quickly enough in favor of Cliff Lake, which was my goal for the night. Every time I'd done this loop in the past, I'd spent one of the nights at Cliff Lake: it's a beautiful lake with a great view of the looming Devil's Peak, and a number of fantastic campsites.

I've always had the place more or less to myself in the past, so I was surprised to find upon rolling up that every single campsite I knew of was already occupied for the night. I even headed to the southern shore of the lake, where there is a campsite that is kinda-sorta-but-maybe-not "CLOSED FOR RESTORATION," thinking of that spot as a last resort, but was immediately chased away by two huge, off-leash dogs belonging to a couple who was camped directly underneath the "CLOSED" sign. Huh.

I was pretty dispirited by this turn of events. Of course, wilderness is equally open to everyone's use, but I was surprised that every spot around the lake was taken.

At this point, it was about two hours until sunset, and with the choice to either a) double back to South Lake or b) continue on, I chose to continue on. I'd planned to take a dayhike the next morning to the off-the-beaten-path Lake Ivern, and so I decided I would just start walking in that direction now instead and see what happened.

What happened was that I pretty quickly came upon Middle Lake, and some open camp spots there, but at that point I had in my head that I was going to hike all the way to Ivern and camp there. This would turn out to be a mistake. For the time being, I noted the best Middle Lake campsite mentally and pushed on to Ivern.

The hike through this section of trail was pretty interesting. As someone who knows the main parts of the this loop more or less by heart at this point, I found the character of the Lake Ivern trail to be different. It mostly descends toward the lake through deep forest, past a number of springs that trickle down from the west and run across the trail. There were huckleberry and whortleberry bushes everywhere, and I grabbed and ate a bunch of both as I walked, already racing the sunset and not wanting to stop and fish a snack out of my pack.

All in all, it was a really idyllic though somewhat forced two-mile march, so I was surprised when I reached the lake proper to find it to be shallow, scummy, and surrounded by a combination of old snags and burnt, dead trees. There was one campsite there, but it was oddly sloped and the surrounding area was depressing to look at in a way that I don't normally encounter out in the wild. I had been out of water for a long time, so I had to fill one bottle in the scummy lake, but I didn't relish the idea of taking all of my drinking and cooking water until the next afternoon out of it.

Had it been an emergency situation, I could definitely have stayed there with little trouble, but with another hour left until sunset, I grudgingly did what seemed like the obvious thing: hiked back up the Lake Ivern trail back to Middle Lake.

The silver lining and the conclusion of this much-too-long post is that on the way back to Middle Lake, I noticed, in the failing light, a campsite that was much better than any of the others I'd seen when I'd passed through earlier. Not only was this spot a bit further off the trail than the others, it also featured a footpath that provided easy access to the (clean) lake, and a great view of Devil's Peak in the distance.

I didn't get to said camp spot until dark, which meant I had to set up camp, cook, and sort and store all of my gear in the dark, but this was far from the first time I've had to do that, and it was much warmer than it had been those other times.

In the end, I had a nice, relaxing dinner, and even took the time to take some astrophotos of the lake, the mountain, and the stars.

I'd planned to hike fourteen miles from Cold Springs to Cliff Lake on this first day, but due to some digressions and the added mileage to and from Lake Ivern, my GPS ended up counting twenty-one miles...the most I've ever hiked in one day with a full backpacking pack. Fortunately, the terrain is Sky Lakes is a little more forgiving than say, in the Trinities or the Wallowas, where twenty-one miles is an entirely different proposition. That said, I fell asleep pretty much the moment I laid down in the tent. Tomorrow, I hoped, would be a little more straightforward.

[raspberryconverse]

IDK why, but for some reason I decided to read my old Blogger blog and just read the tagged posts about the boy I dated when I was 21.

Oof.

I do see why that one person was team [him], even when I started blogging again on LiveJournal 2 years ago. He'll always be the one who got away.

Don't get me wrong, I am so fucking happy with my spouse. I honestly don't know if he hadn't left for grad school that we would have fared better. I just got to the point where we actually broke up (even though we were trying to make it work long distance) basically because his family didn't like me. I mean, they didn't dislike me, but they most certainly didn't want their son to marry me. And considering parents usually love me (my in-laws do, for sure), it was such a blow.

He actually described it as we were a good dating couple, but not a good courting couple. We're obviously not talking fundie-level courtship, but southern religious vibes for sure. His dad was a Methodist pastor (I used to say he was a WASM - white Anglo-Saxon Methodist as opposed to a WASP, though I guess Methodism is technically Protestant, but hell if this atheist knows how any of that shit works) and they were from the Atlanta suburbs, so it was a very different world from my Midwestern divorced agnostic upbringing. I mean, his sister wrote him a multi page letter expressing her disdain for us taking a nap together when I visited him at his parents' house whereas my mom let us take her bed when we visited my family one weekend. We came from very different worlds, that's for sure.

I actually forgot what kick started our relationship. We had met a month or 2 prior while volunteering at The Neo-Futurists. Oddly enough, I kinda got to know him one night after some event when he, my college best friend, my soon-to-be ex and I ended up at a table together (I've been trying to find the context, but I honestly don't remember other than it was something Neo-Futurist related) Then, a fellow volunteer called me because his car broke down and he couldn't make his volunteer shift and asked if I'd be willing to cover. So we ran into each other again. It was his first time volunteering for Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind and afterwards, I made an offhand comment about being hungry and only having Easy Mac at home, so we went to IHOP.

A few weeks later was my 21st birthday. I had invited him to my birthday gathering, but he had to decline because he had to finish some stuff up at work. Then, he surprised me. After we left the bar, he suggested we get booze at the grocery store and drink at his place instead. My college best friend told me later that she was going to suggest going to another bar so she could basically pull a Stevie and leave so we could have a chance to connect.

Eventually, we need to go home, so he walked us to the el. Before I went though the turnstile, he hugged me goodbye.

And kissed me.

I think this is why I have to watch this part of "Grad Night" every night before I go to bed. It was my birthday and it wasn't supposed to end up this way. He wasn't supposed to be there. But then he was.

It will never not be magical. That moment of, "I'm feeling something here, so I'm just going to go for it."

It has literally been over a decade and a half (yes, I'm still being cryptic about exactly how old I am because this site makes me feel really fucking old sometimes) and I still get butterflies when I think of that night.

One thing that is kind of helpful when I get nostalgic is look at his Facebook and notice he did not age well. Shallow, I know, but aside from being so much heavier than I was then (it's actually pretty disgusting how disordered my eating/weight management was back then, especially when I would complain that I had gotten up to 140lbs and I'm at least 50lbs heavier than that now) and a few gray hairs (and I was dying my hair back then too so that's not really a thing), I look pretty much the same.

(obviously rounder face because I'm significantly heavier, but I don't think I've really aged that much)

And FWIW, I'm definitely happy with how my life turned out.

It's nothing like I thought it'd be, especially reading my old blog, but I don't think I'd have it any other way.

[messier-47]

Fanfic snippet that I lost all motivation to complete I'm so mad!

whatever. I'll post it here for y'all to enjoy though I forewarn that the end abruptly cuts off perhaps I'll get back to writing this eventually but rn i wanna have fun with something else.

Tags: Madara POV, Post-Konoha, Izuna-Lives, Murder-Mystery, Supernatural, uneditted, unbeta'd, unfinished

Title: still waters run deep

It was raining.

There was a fist pounding on the front door.

“Hashirama!” Madara called out impatiently, “Hashirama stop kissing your wife and open your goddamn door!”

Giving his friend a moment to answer, finally sensing his friend’s chakra signature migrate from deeper within the home to the front entrance way, Madara repositioned the bundle of scrolls in his arms, covered in an oilskin to keep dry under the summer downpour. On again, off again came down the rainshowers, him having caught a meer moment of respite to get from the Hokage Tower to his friend’s house where Hashirama had strangely hadn’t come in for work.

That wasn’t too odd. There was too much to do in their fledgling village of Konoha, most of the time both Hashirama and Madara spent their days running around to keep it all afloat, about a dozen city building projects currently underway and in need of at least some direction for it all to be completed cohesively. It was a pain in the ass and Madara sometimes thought it’d be better if there should be a singular person to take control of all the infrastructure decisions, especially when both Konoha Founders found themselves adrift at sea with no clue how to navigate the construction of a village that’s suppose to house more people than they were every prepared for.

The front door opened but only for Hashirama’s face to peer out, Madara’s friend oddly keeping himself hidden within his house.

“Hello!” he greeted, “What do you need?”

Rolling his eyes and ignoring his friend’s strangeness (were he and his wife having a moment? Whatever, it’s not like he hadn’t caught the Hokage and his wife before), Madara shoulder checked the door and bullied his way inside Hashirama’s residence. Luckily, it didn’t seem like he’d caught the other in another amorous mood since his clothes were still on and his wife wasn’t in the house judging by her chakra signature (however…what is that?), moving to the kitchen to dump the workload he shared.

“The new terms of the Haruno Trade Deal just came in this morning,” he quickly explained before going to open his friend’s cupboards to pour himself a cup of tea. Mito always had good tea in stock. “The Aburame have finalized the plot of land in which they want their compound, down at the southern lot and the Nara-Yamanaka-Akimichi all have brought up some rather interesting proposals as to how Konoha’s government could be set up. Took the liberty to have Hikaku take some notes which I think we’ll need to have a discussion cause they brought up some points that-”

“Uh, Madara,” Hashirama voiced, something nervous about his tone as he smiled at his long-time friend, “I thank you for bringing this all to me but I’m actually rather busy.”

Which was code for: get the fuck out my house.

Except Mito wasn’t around and there weren’t romantic flower petals in the hall or scented candles, which made the bro-code negligible.

He raised a brow, now actually noticing that something seemed a bit off about his friend. Hashirama was nervous but not distressed. He didn’t want Madara around but there wasn’t…hmmm how should he explain it? Something was troubling Hashirama but wasn’t bringing his concerns to either his best friend or his wife. Something concerning enough to push Madara out, probably wanting to get back to whatever he was dealing with immediately.

“Sure,” Madara said, fixing the cuff of his sleeves, a way for shinobi in deep cover would ask, ‘Status. Threat assessment.’ “The village isn’t gonna build itself. Try stopping by the Tower within the week.”

Hashirama’s eyes went wide upon seeing Madara’s shinobi signs, so startled that his eyes instinctively darted towards the living room.

That was a sure sign that something was off. Hashirama was a better shinobi than that, for his eyes to instantly betray him if the situation was tense enough for such juvenile mistakes.

Madara immediately turned and strode towards the living room, deeming whatever Hashirama wanted to hide not a subject matter that deserves his respect for privacy.

“No, wait! No!” Hashirama cried out, darting around the table to grab hold of him.

Too late.

Coming around the corner, Madara didn’t have to try hard to find what his friend was hiding. Because the person Hashirama was trying to hide stood tall and still in the middle of the room; the door to the outside garden open and like fate did the rain fall harder, like a calling card to the person who stared back at the Uchiha.

Tall.

Pale.

Young, so very young. Madara could hardly believe his eyes how young the other looked.

Wearing a set of broken armor, chipped blue paint barely clinging on now that the rust and dirt had eaten most of it. A familiar fur mantle over a set of thin shoulders, clumps of fur missing and tinted gray from grime.

Happuri missing, leaving nothing about the other’s face hidden behind a vernacular of a fierce warrior.

Not while the other’s skin was so pale that it tinted gray.

His lips a sickly color of blue and Madara would have run to fetch a blanket if foreknowledge didn’t freeze him in his place, staring at this impossible vision of Tobirama Senju standing in Hashirama’s livingroom looking just as he did five years ago.

Hashirama came into his peripheral vision, something raw and so defeated in his expression for him to realize that this was real.

This was not a genjutsu.

Or a hallucination.

“You should have just left,” Hashirama softly said, knowing that Madara wouldn’t be able to leave this alone now that he knew.

Because it’s been five years since Tobirama was last reported as missing.

***

Five years ago, the clans of Senju and Uchiha were at an impasse. There had been no headway to the war their forefathers had forced upon them and peace seemed unlikely.

The stuff of dreams.

Madara couldn’t remember the exact date in which a certain Senju stopped showing up to the Senju-Uchiha skirmishes and battles. There was no way for him to assern when, there was no need for a roll call and not every confrontation had every big name player coming out to the field (hell, even Izuna couldn’t be able to stay at Madara’s side, sometimes missions or other priorities calling him away). All he knew was that one day upon Hashirama and him throwing themselves into the firefight, his then counterpart would not bring up his usual drivel for peace, but an inquiry as to if the Uchiha had reports of Tobirama’s whereabouts.

Back then, he’d given off a simple, truthful answer of no, no Uchiha had seen hide nor hair of the infamous Senju Heir and he thought that was that.

But after the battle, he’d become completely aware that it wasn’t over.

The Senju started swarming out in hoards, combing through every inch of Fire Country from the very borders to the heart of Uchiha land! All in the search for the apparently missing Senju Heir.

Madara had done his own investigation, privately asking his own shinobi for any hints but no one knew anything. Not even Izuna’s spy network could get even a whisper of a singular entity with such recognizable features and a name worth that of a price. No one claimed him for hostage or bargain. No one claimed to have killed him or have discovered a body.

He’d simply vanished off the face of the earth.

Until now and Madara had a sinking suspicion as to what’d happened.

Hashirama too, would have the same conclusion.

Tobirama Senju sat before them both in perfect senza, his expression about as placid as still waters and nothing about him screamed the other was alive.

Cause he wasn’t.

What sat before them was a ghost. A yurei.

And someone who drowned to become one.

It was obvious how the young man died. The spirit was soaked. Literally dripping with water from an unending source. Hashirama had fetched a few towels for the spirit to sit on but the towels were soon drenched.

But…how could Tobirama, one of the strongest and fiercest suiton-natured shinobi Madara had ever come across, drown? It wasn’t unimaginable to have been an accident. However…it didn’t seem much of an accident to see the ring of bruises around the spirit’s throat. Someone had strangled him underwater until he drowned.

[littlepadika]

congrats on 500 paddi!! you and your work deserve every single one of those followers 🥺💕🥰

💙blue 🦋 = Whiskey

🧁sweet/baking 🍰= professor x student

🍄cottage core 🧚🏼‍♀️ = innocence kink

With a super sweet but a little naive reader who never acted out back home starting her first year of college and fawning over Whiskey maybe? (that was literally me starting college this year but look where I am now 😼) Also praise kink was another choice but I would die if you added a bit in there pwease 🥺

Thank you Katie! I'm so proud of you for making it through your first year (and in a pandemic!?!?! Baddy behavior). As I recall you are studying music? I hope this relates to you. I'm a pile of goo for Professor Whiskey.

500 follower celebration (closed now) part 2

Warnings: Professor x student, praise kink, innocence kink

As a vocal music student you were required to take a foreign language. You had a knack for learning languages and already felt comfortable with French and German. You thought it prudent in your first class to start with the building block for all the romance languages. Latin.

You were still learning your way around campus. The meandering paths were confusing and the signs were of little help. You set off for the lecture hall a good twenty minutes early but after getting lost near the recreation center you accepted that you were going to be late. On your first day. Fucking brilliant. So much happened in a short amount of time. You were miles from home. Missing your friends. And totally lost physically and mentally. Imposter syndrome reared its ugly head. You weren't cut out for this. You wondered how much a ticket home would cost.

"Damnit-" You pivoted when you reached the dead end of the path, frustrated tears in your eyes.

"Woah there." Two large hands stopped you, resting on your shoulders.

"Sorry." You mumbled trying to side step whoever this was. You were embarrassed enough as it was.

"Now hang on, little lamb, I don't mean to intrude but it seems you might be in need of some assistance." You chanced a glance up at your savior, your eyes widening at the sight. A man, a very attractive man. A very tall attractive man was staring down at you with a small smile playing on his full lips. By your quick gaze at his form he was oddly out of place. His stetson hat and mustache made him look like a TV cowboy rather than a professor. The only indication he was a teacher was the worn leather briefcase in his hand.

"Um..." You felt your cheeks warm "The music building. I'm all turned around."

"This place is a maze. I'm happy to walk you there, sugar." He dropped his hands from your shoulders. His southern twang sat low in his register, rich and rough at the same time. If he was a singer you'd bet he had a beautiful voice.

"Thank you." You exhaled, feeling some of your stress leaving your shoulders.

"You were sure close. You must have known about my secret short cut, huh?" He pulled aside some brush showing you a worn dirt path that connected to the green space outside the music building.

"I guess so." You giggled nervously finding his humor and his efforts to comfort you endearing.

"Come on, now. Ladies first." He stood aside still holding the brush back with his arm. You slipped through, knowing your white tennis shoes were getting all muddy.

"Name's Jack Daniels." He tilted his hat towards you.

"Nice to meet you." You introduced yourself.

"You new to campus?"

"Yes. First year." You replied, walking side by side with him. "I'm a vocal performance student."

"That's swell. I have quite a few friends who teach singin'. You must be mighty talented to have caught their attention."

"Well... I don't know." You blushed down at the ground feeling your stomach twist with his praise. You wish you were better at handing a compliment. It felt so good but you were totally without the words to express it. It's like it got stuck somewhere inside of you, burning a giant hole.

"Humble girl, aren't ya? That's good for when you become a big star."

"Stop." You giggled. You blushed and looked up at him nervously, worried you had offended him. You had forgotten you were speaking to a teacher.

"I ain't gonna stop speaking the truth." Jack nudged your shoulder playfully.

You just spluttered, feeling your face heat up to the temperature of the sun.

"It was nice meeting ya, sugar. Hope our paths cross again." He left you on the steps of the building.

You ran into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face before going into the lecture hall. You made a mental note to look up Professor Jack Daniels. You got your pencils and brand new notebook out, flipping onto a clean first page.

"Manners Maketh Man... or shall we say mores percutit hominem."

You and the students turned around, walking through the main doors was your professor Jack Daniels. The same man who had shown you the building.

"Let me break that down for you." His eyes momentarily landed on you on his way down to the blackboard.

"Manners Maketh- maketh an ol' way of sayin' make us. Manners make us human." He settled behind the desk in the front, gazing out at the thirty or so students.

If you weren't already enamored by his voice and his mannerisms, you would be by the way he teaches. He was funny and engaging. He made sure to learn people's name, take questions. He had dimples that deepened whenever he would smile. He had removed his hat mid way through the lesson and you watched mesmerzied as he pushed a surly lock of black hair out of his forehead. You were so busy watching him move back and forth that you realized you hadn't taken any notes at all.

"Thank you all and do remember to bring me a quote for tomorrow." There were cracks as people's seats flipped up and they filed out of the auditorium. You shoved your empty notebook into your bag trying to find the best time to push your way out.

"Excuse me." You look up. Jack is standing right in front of you, a big grin on his face. "I thought I recognized a face."

"Yeah." You blushed. A reflex that, you were learning, would be heavily tested with him around. You realized just looking at him head on, he had a light sprinkle of freckles across his tan cheeks. Your kryptonite.

"I expect you'll be taken my little path a lot more now." He winked.

"Yes, professor. I'm really excited to be in your class." You tried to contain your buzzing excitement and nervousness.

"I'm darn excited too." Jack chuckled his eyes crinkling. "I can't wait to see what quote you bring me tomorrow."

"Oh I already know my quote." You smiled. "Si vis amari, amare."

If you wish to be loved, love.

Jack didn't say anything for a moment. He was blown away by you. Your innocence and wisdom somehow coexisting. He saw you on the path looking like a lost little lamb and he had to step in. Upon hearing your little bell voice and the hint of tears in your eyes he knew he would do anything to keep this cruel world away from your shores. The quote and your bright eyes as you recited it was just the icing on top.

"Well shit... that's gonna be a hard one to top."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks went by. Professor Daniels was easily your favorite professor. You would go to his office hours every week just to spend more time with him. He would help other students first, sending them on their way so he could spend the rest of the time with you. He would tell you stories of his home back in Texas and show off his collection of hand guns. Once he made you laugh until your sides hurt by lassoing a pile of books like they were some runaway bull. You felt less homesick now that you had a safe place to go and know you'll come out laughing. You would smell like him when you left. Leather and tobacco and something sweet like honey.

"P-Professor Daniels?" you knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

"I got the part!" You squealed as soon as you saw him.

"No way! I'm so proud of you, little lamb!" Jack cheered, clapping his hands together. "I knew you would!"

He was more casual today. No hat, no blazer. Just a white button down which was hugging him the way you wanted to hug him. You could smell his aftershave more potently today. Maybe it was just your excitement heightening your senses. You fought the urge to hug him by pulling your backpack in front of your body.

"The performance is in a couple weeks. If you want to come." You pulled out the flyer from the outside pocket. You weren't sure if this was unethical or if he had plans. Crushing on your professor was already pathetic enough as it was. Trying to get him to come to an amateur student show couldn't be any worse.

"I would be honored." Jack smiled, accepting the flyer gratefully.

There were couple knocks at the door and fit of giggles. Jack just ignored this but you looked behind you then back at him with questioning eyes.

"It's nothin'" He shook his head. "Just jackass students."

"Is it a prank?"

"Something like that." Jack brushed it off wanting to focus on you. You fought the growing pit in your stomach. You weren't the only girl who found Professor Daniels appealing it seemed. There were plenty far more bold than you who were knocking at his door. "So will you be needin' an extension on your paper because of the show?"

"I don't think so." You smiled at the change of subject, sinking into your favorite chair across from his desk. "Rehearsals every day though so i have to cancel my trip back home. But it's manageable."

"Oh no." Jack frowned. "You were so excited to see your folks."

"Yeah. I was really homesick. Not so much anymore." You shared meaningful eye contact with Jack wondering if he could sense your meaning. You weren't homesick now that you had him.

"I'm glad to hear it, sugar." Jack dug his hands into his pockets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Opening night Jack was sat in the middle of the third row exactly where you told him the sound was best. Jack enjoyed going to the opera though he didn't give off that appearance. Fluent in latin, he understood some of the words in the opera but not all. It didn't matter because when you came on stage he knew exactly what you were going through. He was mesmerized by you. You had the voice of an angel. He doesn't think he'd ever heard such a sweet sound in his life.

He was the first to stand up and wolf whistle at curtain call, hoping the blush staining your cheeks was because you knew he was there. He waited anxiously for you to come out to the lobby. It wasn't a date but it sure felt like one. Jack knew he shouldn't be doing this. It was inappropriate for a teacher and student to be involved romantically or sexually. And even when the term was over, he was much older than you. What did he have that someone as young and special as you could want?

"Professor?"

He turned, beaming at the sight of you makeup less and still flushed from the performance. Your puffy coat was thrown on haphazardly. You were just so excited to get out and see him.

"You were amazin', little lamb" He clasped his hands behind his back to keep from embracing you.

"Thank you so much for coming." You hugged him anyways, throwing your hands over his shoulders. The endorphins from the successful show pushing you forward. He was so warm and broad.

"You have the voice of an angel." Jack hugged you back, throwing caution to the wind. Your soft form fit perfectly against him. Your head tucked securely under his chin. Neither of you wanted to let go. "I'm so proud of you."

"Th-thank you." You whispered, burying your face into his warm chest.

"Would you sign my program for me?" Jack pulled away from you slightly reaching for the folded paper in his back pocket.

"Really?" You cock your head to the side.

"Hell yeah. When you're a big star someday I'm gonna sell it and become a millionaire."

"You're silly." You giggled taking it from him. "I need a pen."

"Shoot." Jack looked around. "I think I got one in my car."

You both walk into the cool night air, you slightly shivering but not from the cold. Jack's pick up truck blinked when he unlocked it. You had never seen his car before.

"Here." He reached in and got a pen from the glovebox. You put the program against the window and flipped to your little biography. Jack stood so close to you, watching over your shoulder.

You tucked your tongue between your teeth signing your name over your picture, trying to make it look as nice as possible. When you turned around he had a bouquet of lilies in his hand. For you.

"Professor..." You teared up with how sweet he was being.

"Call me Jack." He asked, leaning towards you. You could feel his warm breath against your face. Your eyes widened. Was he going to kiss you?

"Wait-" You squeaked and Jack immediately pulled back regret all over his face. "No!" You grabbed his jacket "I'm-I want to- it's just no one has done this for me before."

"What do ya mean?" Jack furrowed his brow cutely.

"No one has... kissed me." You felt stupid saying it. It sucked to be so inexperienced when all you wanted to do was jump head first into your desire.You looked down at the dark concrete expecting him to pull away in disgust. Instead he tilted your chin back at him his dark eyes shinning in the gold light from the street light.

"There's nothin' wrong with that, darlin'." He murmured. "You sure you want your first with me?"

You nodded feeling safe in his gaze.

He kissed you then, the bouquet lilies between you two. He was warm and perfect holding you. His lips were softly guiding you. He chuckled into your mouth when you eagerly poked your tongue into his hot mouth.

"I'm bad at this." You giggled.

"Impossible. You’re perfect." Jack nuzzled his nose into you. "Term is over in two weeks. Can you wait for me? Then I can give you as many firsts as you want."

"Yes, Jack." You kissed him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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