#left at like 7:30 pm for a night on the town

[slav-every-day]

[tmntheadcanons]

Hi! 🖖🏻

Can I ask abt morning routine from tmnt 2003? It maybe fun,if Leo and Mikey are morning persons and Raph and Donny more like owls 🥲

or just Mikey is morning happy boy 😁

Thank you! 🍀

I'm so sorry this took so long! I was out of town for all of January and then I got swamped with school and work. But I love this prompt so much! In these head canons I'm assuming this is on average days where they aren't on late night patrols or anything. Just more casual days.

Leonardo:

Leo goes to bed (or at least falls asleep) late. But he is usually the first to get up in the morning.

I feel like Leo enjoys the quiet first thing in the morning. He likes to get up, make tea and just relax in the living room for like half an hour before anyone else gets up.

He might slip outside for a little bit and watch the sunrise while it's still quiet out.

Tea is his preference for a morning drink but he'll take coffee if he's really tired.

First thing in the morning Leo is usually pretty calm and relaxed. I feel like he might even be more sociable in the morning. Like if someone is up at the same time as him he'll suggest they go out and watch the sunrise together and hang out for a bit.

As a kid, the morning is when Leo got a lot of one on one time with Splinter. He and Splinter would be the first ones up, Splinter would make him tea and breakfast and they would talk. So mornings are kind of domestic and peaceful for Leo.

He wakes up around 6-7. Maybe even as early at 5 depending on how late he was up the previous night.

Raphael:

Usually wakes up to the sound of his family being loud.

If left to his own devices he would naturally wake up at around 10, but he's a light sleeper so he's up around the time Leo, Splinter and Mikey start making noise.

The first thing he does is go and eat breakfast. He just heads straight for whatever Mikey just made and if Mikey didn't make anything then it's cereal straight out of the box for Raph.

Raph isn't cranky in the morning he's actually pretty quiet. He just wanders into the kitchen, casually grunts to announce he is awake, eats his breakfast and lets his brain catch up with him.

Once he is awake enough he'll usually go and do a pre-training work out to get warmed up.

Wakes up at around 8:30-9.

Donatello:

He sets 10 different alarms and he might actually get out of bed at alarm #7.

He violently rolls over, slams his snooze button and goes right back to bed. The movement is so swift now the alarm will only go off for a second so it doesn't wake up the entire house (Not that it matters because he is probably the last on up anyway)

Doesn't even wipe the crust out of his eyes before he is checking his phone.

Donatello is actually the one who is cranky in the morning. If he is awoken before his alarm there will be bloodshed.

He won't be functional for at least 15 minutes right after he wakes up. He makes a beeline for the kitchen, gets coffee and just sits at the table and stares into his mug.

He gets up at 9:30 exactly because that's the latest splinter will let him sleep in for before he starts making comments about the importance of a balanced sleep schedule.

But the day after late night missions he will sleep until 1 pm no problem.

Michelangelo:

Mikey is naturally a morning person. Even when he is up late he rarely sleeps in past 9.

When Mikey was a kid, all the good cartoons were on first thing in the morning. Also Splinter let him watch tv before training so the earlier he was up, the more he could watch. So that trained Mikey to be up when the sun comes up

Mikey's mornings are slow and relaxing. He gets up, wanders down into the kitchen and starts making breakfast. He will throw on some coffee and he'll cook for everybody. Then when he is done he will grab a blanket, sit on the couch and watch cartoons while he eats breakfast. (He never grew out of loving a good morning cartoon)

His usual breakfasts are pancakes, scrambled eggs, waffles, french toast and bacon he likes something sweet in the morning.

Also I bet he puts a ton of cream and sugar in his coffee.

He's upbeat in the morning and he's probably pretty loud. His brothers will wake up to the sound of loud singing and dishes clanging in the kitchen.

On average he wakes up at around 7-8.

[eijirousbestie]

I love love love your bakugou x artist reader trope please we need more of it it’s so wholesome i have read it on repeat since you upload it 💗💗💗

Aahh thank you so much!! Kinda grew attached to it myself so I’m glad to hear y’all love it sm<33 This is definitely a series I plan on continuing🤟🏽 this part is kinda more goofy than anything else but I promise there’s fluff near the end<33

“Fuck around and find out”

he loses his drumsticks

missing rug

using an art supply as a weapon?

nonverbal apology

can’t admit he’s wrong for SHIT

Clay is never easy to work with and you’d be foolish to think it is. It’s messy, dries relatively quickly and dirties up every surface it graces. You swear your sculpting professor is out to get you with these ridiculous projects. From cardboard cutouts to detailed portraits to clay. It’s a madhouse in the art department.

Using your modeling tool, you try to carve into the block of raku clay that cost an arm and a leg to buy from the university’s private art supply store. It was a blessing and a curse to have it so conveniently placed right across the hall from your sculpting class. The clay and tool alone cost you $27 that you’ll never see again. This degree better be worth it. You look at your desk partner and see that she’s going to town on her clay block. She cuts, carves and scoops at it like she’s done it a thousand times over. Clay sculpting is a completely different wheelhouse you’re not used to but you’re always willing to learn. Hopefully fast.

You quickly check your phone, residual dried clay sprinkling onto the screen as you click on it. 7:50 PM. It’s time to wrap it up for the day. Almost in sync, your professor calls time and you all begin to clean up. You clean off your work station diligently and swing your bag over your shoulder, wishing everyone a good night as you leave. The walk to your car is peaceful. The night is quiet and the air is cool and clear. Truth be told, you were opposed to taking a night class at the start, probably afraid you’d get jumped at night or something irrational like that. But now it’s what you look forward to during the week. Being left alone with your own thoughts and decompressing from the day in the evening is just so therapeutic. Finally making it to your car, you get in, closing and locking the door after. Now that your hands are free from dried clay, you go through your missed messages for the evening. As soon as you turn off do not disturb your screen is flooded with missed calls and text notifications. Your eyes widen and confusion floods your mind as you scroll to the very first message.

#1 Hater🏆: yo, lost my drumsticks. you seen em?

delivered 6:15 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call

#1 Hater🏆: yeah you totally took em u little shit

delivered 6:30 PM

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (2)

#1 Hater🏆 missed call (4)

#1 Hater🏆: ik damn well you’re not ignoring me rn

#1 Hater🏆: i’ll go in your room rn and throw out that shitty rug. keep playin

delivered 7:05 PM

You laugh at his empty threat of a message and roll your eyes. What he had against your rug, you didn’t know. Buying a rep was cheaper than the real thing. KAWS is not a brand that’s in your tax bracket. And of course you didn’t know where his drumsticks were. He usually keeps all his music equipment locked away somewhere so it’s most likely his fault for losing them. You’re about to turn off your phone when a ping sounds from your device, a new message shining brightly on your screen.

#1 Hater🏆: forgot you were at your night class. probably got me on dnd anyways

#1 Hater🏆: still gonna give you hell for stealing my shit tho

delivered 8:03 PM

You type back a quick reply.

You: don’t have ur sticks. touch my rug and u die. I’ll be back in 5 to kick ur ass for blaming me

You shut your phone off and start your car, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to the dorms.

Once you’re back you walk through the living room and make a beeline to your room. You open your door and what you see inside is enough to fuel nightmares. A rather deranged looking Bakugou has his hip leaned up against your windowsill, arms crossed over his chest as a single lamppost from outside your window illuminates one side of his face. He looks at you. Stares even and doesn’t say a single word.

“Is there a reason you’re just sitting in the dark like a weird-ass Disney villain or?” You flick on the light switch next to the door, drenching your room with light. It’s only then that you notice your floor is rather bare. This motherfucker.

He must have seen your reaction judging by the way his eyes follow your gaze to your now exposed wood flooring. A shit eating grin spreads across his face, damn near splitting it in two. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You’d hate to beat his ass over something so trivial but it’s getting harder to restrain yourself. You force yourself to look him in the eyes as you speak very very carefully.

“Kats… you wouldn’t happen to know where my rug is would you?”

He straightens up and walks towards you, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweats, a cocky bounce in his stride.

“Dunno. My shit’s missing too. Must be a ghost or somethin’.” Not a lick of remorse escapes his mouth. He’s smug. He’s proud of himself and he even came back to the scene of the crime just to taunt you. Your left eye twitches, patience wearing thin.

“I’ll ask you one more time for the sake of being generous. Where. Is my. Rug.” He shrugs and feigns innocence.

“Fuck around and find out.”

The hell did he just say? Is he really trying to pick a fight right now? Usually you’re the one keeping the peace but this man has now dragged your innocent rug into his thick headed nonsense. You chuckle in disbelief and look at the ground, shaking your head slightly.

“‘Fuck around and find out?’ Huh… aight then.” Bag still slung over your shoulder, you unzip the smallest pocket and pull out the modeling tool you used earlier for your sculpting class. You grip it tightly in your palm, the pointed edge facing outwards. Bakugou’s cocky façade waivers a bit but he doesn’t show it. His left eyebrow quirks up in interest.

“Tryna stab me with an art supply?” You’re not really gonna stab him. Just scare him into giving you your stuff back. Maybe…

“You said fuck around and find out right? So imma fuck you up til I find out where my shit is.” You drop your bag on the ground and rush at him all at once. His once calm demeanor switches to sudden shock and he moves to dodge your swing.

“Dude what the fuck!? Will you chill?” He doesn’t know whether he’s shouting in annoyance or fear, though he’ll never admit the latter. You turn around to where he’s standing behind you, modeling tool still tightly clutched in hand.

“Give me my shit back then!”

“Cmon it’s a shitty knock off. You really gonna stab me over a $30 rug?”

“And you really stole a $30 rug over a $15 pair of drumsticks?”

“Cuz you stole em!”

“I didn’t steal anything. I don’t even know where you keep them Kats! Plus I haven’t been in the dorms since 8 this morning.” His face stills and his brain sorts through what you’d just said. It made sense really. Today was your long day this week. You’d been gone from 8 AM to 8 PM.

He straightens up from his defensive stance and looks away, rubbing the back of his nape. “Okay well even if you didn’t take em, still don’t know where they are. Everyone’s a suspect right now.”

“Then why aren’t everyone else’s things missing?”

He shakes his head and corrects you. “Nah, I took a piece of everyone’s shit too not just you. It’s all stashed til someone fesses up.” You stare at him like he’s grown two heads, face turned up in disapproval and disbelief.

“Aight Kats whatever. You know it’s not me, so can I please have my rug back?” At this point you where drained from classes and just wanted to rest. Not to mention using the last of your energy to attack this idiot.

He walks to your door and opens it, the creak of the door signaling his great escape. “Ask me nicely.” He’s closing the door behind himself now, but you’re quick to yell out.

“Dude are you seriou-”

“Under the bed.” With that, he closes the door and you’re left in silence. You kneel on the ground and look under your bed and just as he said, your rug is there safe and sound. You pull it out from its hiding spot and place it back in its respective spot on the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief which can be heard by the eavesdropping figure just outside your door. He chuckles to himself and walks to his room. Truth be told he found his drumsticks minutes before you came back to the dorms. He was just too embarrassed to tell you he found them after misplacing them himself and blaming you for it. Plus, it was more fun this way. Minus the potential stabbing part.

[hauntedparadisebandana]

141 x drummer!femreader

Summary: fanboy soap drags the group to a downtown bar to see his favorite band member play live.

Pt 1/2

Warnings: swearing, implied scent kink??, Mentions of drinking, Y/H means your height

[The pov's switch in this story]

*7:00 pm, downtown bar*

The bell rings as the group enters, doors shutting behind them, they stand there, taking in their surroundings. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, the lights above are dim, giving the atmosphere a chill vibe. The group takes a seat in a booth near the stage.

"Why are we here again?" Grumbles ghost, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. He was forced to come on the groups adventure downtown.

"We're here to see the band play. They're one of my favorites." Explains soap, being the ring leader of the trip, excitement coursing through his viens.

"Couldn't you just listen to their music back at base?" "But it wouldn't be the same, plus now I get to see 'em live." Ghost huffs at his response, leaning back into the seat. He always ended up on soaps trips, whether he wanted to or not.

"What's the band called? I may have heard of them before." Says gaz leaning in.

"The Deck, a total of five people, each named after a card. They mostly play rock/metal, and a few of 'em can sing. My favorite member is the drummer."

"Hm, never took you for the metal head type, soap." Quips price, coming to set down their drinks, then popping a seat by gaz.

"Well, ye learn something new every day, gaz what time is it?" "It's 7:20, are they playing soon?" "Yep, they play at 7:30 once every week at different bars in town, at the end the drummer gives away her pair of drum sticks she used to play that night, if im lucky she'll give them to me."

This gets a reaction out of everyone, ghost chuckles lightly while price and gaz lets out hearty laughs. At this soap's face flushes red, getting embarrassed, "What's so funny?"

"So the drummers a girl huh, sounds like you're a bit of a fan boy." "Am not!" "Are too! You even know what time they play each week! And that the drummer gives away her sticks, whats next, their favorite colors, foods?"

Soaps flushes more, face red as a tomato as he leans back and turns away, "You know what, gaz, I officially hate you." "So you do know all that! Admit it, you are a fan boy!" "You are such a dick! I only know because they said it in an interview!"

Price laughs at soap and Gaz's bantering, getting a little chuckle out of ghost as well.

"Don't worry soap, it's cute how much of a fan boy you are for the drummer," gaz leans in and starts to pinch soap's cheeks, cooing and babying him; earning him a swift punch to the arm.

"That's enough out of you two, they're coming."

"What? No joke?!" Soap whips his head around to look at the stage. No one's on. When he turns around, gaz is laughing into his hand, and price hides his smirk in his glass of whiskey.

"Captain! I thought we were cool, now yer teasing me too?"

"Sorry soap, couldn't resist, but they're coming on for real this time" as he points to the stage the members bring out equipment, setting up quickly as possible, when they finish and take their places. The singer up front, the guitarist to the right, drummer on the far right. On the other side is the bass and second guitarist to the far left. The group could see the appeal, she was hard to miss.

"Soap, if you don't stop staring so hard, your eyes might fall out of your head." gaz laughs again, placing a hand on soaps shoulder.

"Just look at 'er tattoos! They're awesome. "

You could see ghost perk up at 'tattoos' she has officially piqued his interest, but he didn't want to show it, so he just stared at her intricate ink. Her most visible tattoos are on her arms, one arm is a full sleeve, the other arm has scattered tattoos. There is one peeking above her neck line of her shirt, it goes down between her breasts. Ghost nodded slowly, taking in her appearance. She was special, different, the whole band was, and the group liked that. Slightly extroverted, and bold, ready to fuck shit up.

"Aint she a sight for sore eyes" price mumbles, taking a longer sip, the thoughts coming faster than he can drink. "Ghost I can tell you're thinking, You looking at her too?" Says price quietly, taking another sip of whiskey, it turns out ghost can't hide his emotions from everyone,

"She's different..." "That she is," Price chuckles,

"I told you guys, she's cool,"

Suddenly the main lights turn off, and the stage lights come on, illuminating the band. after the singer gives introductions they begin to play. It seems as if the group controlled the bar entirely, the music was bassy, compelling, loud; and the people seemed to like it, as most sung along screaming. The drums and guitar had a solo part, and soap almost melted, gaz just laughed at him. Soon, the song was over, the last echo of sound was heard and the bar erupted into yells, claping and whistling.

By the end of the songs, the group was tipsy, with soap and gaz almost on the edge of being drunk. The group sits there in awe for a moment. The experience was new. "I'll say, that wasn't half bad, I like their style." Price crosses his arms.

"Yeah, you picked good soap," Ghost nods to soap. "I knew you would come around ghost! They're good, right? The way they play is amazing!" "Uh oh, he's fanboying again." "I'll kick your arse."

*y/n pov*

I wipe the sweat off my forehead, taking a swig of water. Me and my band mates smile and wave taking in the praise, the excitement. "Now it's time for the fun part, y/n, pick the lucky winner for tonight's sticks."

I smirk and quickly look around, I spot a booth close to the stage. A total of four men sat there, all looking at me. They're all cuties at that. The one sporting a mohawk had a twinkle in his eyes; a true metal lover at heart, I assume. I nod to the leader, hopping off the stage quickly making my way to the booth. The guards follow close behind, ensuring my safety. As I got closer, their eyes got wide. I take the guy with a Mohawk hands, giving him my drum sticks, my glossy lips form a grin as he stares at me, like a child meeting santa for the first time.

"You're tonight's lucky one." I smile at him sweetly, nodding to the rest of his table mates. Up close, everyone is rather handsome, their eyes drilling into my face, focus y/n. I make my way back to the stage, putting up my equipment, getting ready to leave.

*pov, 141*

Soap sits there, jaw slack and eyes wide. Gaz busts out laughing for the third time this night, and price smirks. "I-I got 'er sticks, I really got 'er sticks!" He exclaimed

"You sure did soap,"

"I don't know if anyone noticed, but damn she smells good," adds gaz. "Her smell is strong, sweet." "It's intoxicating." Ghost mumbles, rubbing his temple, the bourbon was finally getting to him. Her smell is like a sweet musk, hard to rub off, hard to get rid of. He remembers the way her bracelets and bangles jingled, sweet music to his ears. Fuck. He could feel something straining.

"'er voice is sweet too.... and her smile, shes really cool." "Oooook fanboy soap has gotten delirious." "Am not!" "Are too! Stop denying it!" "Whatever!" Their words slur a bit. Maybe they were a bit drunk after all.

Price sighs, rubbing his head at the twos antics. "I'm grabbing another drink, care to join?"

"Yeah, I'll go, but just to move around. I've been sitting so long it feels like my ass is glued to the seat." Gaz complains, holding his head in his hands.

"Let's go." The entire group gets up to get drinks, soap gasps as he spots y/n. She took her shirt of some time ago, now only in a sports bra, showing off her rad back tattoo. She stands with her hands in her pocket. The second guitarist is also standing, leaning against the booth talking to her, laughing.

"You should've seen the way he was looking at you! It was like looking at a kid seeing gifts under the tree."

"I seen his expression, I thought he was gonna get emotional and start crying right there as I gave him the sticks!"

the guitarist smirks glancing past y/n, "speak of the devil, it's the kid on Christmas and his group."

"Oh hush spade, leave the man alone."

We get closer to hear y/n hush the guitarist, we sit at the bar near where they stand, away from her and the guy, too drunk and weary to make decisions. Plus, the band's guards were close by, best not to piss them off. The guitarist continues to look over at us

"You know you guys can stand by us right, join us, we don't bite....well, I do but y/n doesn't." He pulls y/n in by the shoulder, to which she punches him.

"Don't listen to this jackass, come, it's safe to sit over here." She waves us over, inviting us to join her, those same bracelets and bracelets making the same sweet noise.

*y/n pov*

Theres a bit of an akward silence for a moment, I tap my hands on my thighs. Its then broken as the guy to my right speaks up, his voice rough and deep, smooth around the edges. It sends a shudder through my body, the smell of cigar smoke and cologne fills my senses.

"These are my men, ghost, gaz, and soap, I'm price." Each one nods and greets me as price says their name. Spade always being a dick has to speak up,

"So the kid on Christmas is soap, hm," he takes a sip of his drink, I pinch him after he says this.

"ignore him, so, what brings you guys downtown tonight..." I say, taking spades cup and taking a sip of whatever he's drinking.

"Well, our buddy soap here wanted to come see you guys live." Gaz grabs soap by the shoulders, shaking him.

"See us live hm? You a big fan?" I grin, looking soap right in his eyes, questioning him.

"Well-" "He's a huge fan, he knows the times you play, where you play, he even watches the group interview-" "Yes, I'm a fan," he says, cheeks red. Hand slapped over gazs mouth to hush him.

I put down my glass, "Oh, well we love very dedicated fans, don't we spade." "Mhm, love em'"

I lean back, looking at the two. The big one to my left, ghost, speaks up.

"Your tattoos..."

"Hm, what about them?" I look up at him, fuck he's tall, about 5 inches taller than me, as I'm Y/H. He looks about 5'10-6'2, well built, pure muscle, and oh that accent... he could easily crush me-

"Where do you get them done..." those eyes

"I do most myself, others I get a friend to do. I run a tattoo shop in my spare time."

"You have talent, y/n" price speaks up, smiling at me.

"Oh you flatter me," I joke, placing a hand on my chest. "No really, you play in a band, run a tattoo shop along with doing your own tattoos? That's pure talent that deserves recognition."

"Why thank you price," I laugh, running a hand through my hair, getting it out my face.

He nods down at me, I look at him. I see something shift in his expression, it was dark, hungry, I don't question it one bit; getting that all to familiar feeling in the bottom of my stomach. I squeeze my thighs. His eyes are a deep shade of blue, all of theirs are blue, except for gaz, his are a pretty shade of rich brown

"You smell really good..." gaz perks up,

"Ah, that's my perfume, strawberry poundcake, got it as a gift."

"..." Gaz soon has the same aura price had, hungry, wanting. I catch onto this quickly. Feeling my stomach jump I avert my eyes, looking for a distraction. Maybe he's just drunk...

"Hey y/n we need to head out, ace is tired of waiting and hes starting to bitch about it." Thank fucking god

"Ace is tired of everything" I sigh turning back to the group. "I gotta run boys, but me and the group will be down here tomorrow around 7:00 for an off day, if you wanna join."

"Sure lass, we'll join ya" soap nods eagerly, getting the others to agree even in their drunken states.

"Ok that's great! See you soon." I turn on my heels to run after spade who had started leaving without me. Face flushed and the feeling still in the pit of my stomach. Still feeling their eyes drilling into my back, I slide out the bar doors.

[sparklytravelmoviepersona]

Strange love part 1

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping

It had been almost 10 years since you got a life in New York. But things have been hard. You tried your best to at least make friends with anyone, but you just feel like a complete stranger or weirdo. One night, you decided to go clear your head. Take a look and observe how people were doing with their lives. Went to a park but still felt left out. Picked out a book from a local library and started reading it. Watching the clouds was a fun thing to do too. But things weren’t just the same being alone all the time. Now your walking around town from Central Park to midtown Manhattan. You kept walking every street in the city to find someone to hang around with. That is… until you see a new girl sitting on a bench.

“Um… hello.”

The girl gets startled by your words

“Woah, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?”

“Uh… yeah, i’m fine. You wanna sit down?”

“Uh… sure.”

You both started talking and asking questions about things you knew and things she knew or liked. It was kind of nice to have some things in common.

“You new here? Cause I don’t think i’ve ever seen you here before.”

“Yeah. Just trying to find some people to hang out with. I haven’t been able to do that in, like 10 years now.”

The girl was surprised to hear that.

“Well if you like, you already got one friend.”

The girl hands you a piece of paper and a number. You got her number.

“There’s my number. If you wanna call or text me and we can hang out some time.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

And she walks away.

“Hey wait! I never got your name.”

“Oh! Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I’m April. April O’Neil.”

“I’m y/n.”

And you both smiled at each other and walked separate ways.

You get dressed and get ready to go meet april again. You walk down the street but it was kind of during the night time. Probably at 8:30 pm or something. But suddenly, you stopped and heard noises coming from behind you. You turn around and no one was even there. You continue to walk away a bit more, but the noises kept coming. You turn around and still nothing was there. And you started running as fast as your legs could take you. You continued to run away from the strange sounds that were coming for you but they kept on taunting you. And then mysterious fog comes out of nowhere and it made you black out and you dropped into someone’s arms and they carried you into a van. You began to open your eyes a little bit and you see a blurry version of april seeing that you had been kidnapped.

It had been almost about 4 to 7 hours since you were passed out. You find yourself in an old warehouse with a bunch of huge containers. And you hear a raspy voice coming your way and see a two guys and a lot of strange looking soldiers.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we got here.”

The strange general was coming towards you but you were afraid to even say anything. But you immediately got upset and asked a question as if you were insulted by something.

“What the heck is going on?! Who brought me here?!”

“Everyone stepped back as if they were afraid of you.

“It spoke.”

“Answer the question!”

“Easy, easy. We’ll let you go, alright. If you answer mine first.”

“What do you want?”

“How do you know that girl?”

You looked at him confused as if you were talking to your own reflection.

“I won’t tell you anything about her. You can do whatever you want but i’ll never talk.”

“Oh really?”

Then the bigger one came closer to you, picked you up and tossed you around the place. You back away scared and they hold a weapon in their hands ready to attack.

“Somebody please help me.”

Then a soldier came falling down on the ground and everyone looked confused as you did.

“Oooooooh. That had to hurt.”

“Tell that to them.”

The foot soldier said. And you all looked up.

“Huh?”

You see 4 or 5 figures coming down the roof and into the warehouse, staring right back at you.

“Hey, what the…”

Every soldier of those guys was getting beaten by the figures and one of them came to you and you started to see a familiar face.

“April?”

“Yeah, i know this is what it looks like, but i’m gonna explain everything once we get you outta here.”

“Hey, watch out!”

Then the general came running towards you and suddenly, you were saved by what looked like a turtle man in a blue mask.

Then soon after, they grab you and get out of there.

“Okay, i just haven’t told you everything about me. The truth is, I have friends who are mutants and they never hurt me. This is raph, donnie, mikey, and leo. Oh, and this is casey. I actually have a lot of other friends.”

“They saved my life.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?”

“I-i just can’t believe you would do that for a human.”

“Oh come on. Human, mutant, turtles. What’s the difference?”

You started at them mesmerized by what mikey said.

“Huh. I never thought of it that way.”

“Well now you know.”

“Hey guys, i hate to break up the moment, but we gotta get back before pops wonders where we are .”

They all jumped up and down ninja style. Expect for leo, who turned back and smiled at you.

“Believe it or not, i’m glad we got to meet you in person.”

You look at him shocked

“She’s told you about me?”

And then he gave you a smirk

“I’ll see you around again sometime?”

And he portals himself away, leaving you in your apartment bedroom, staring outside the window and still thinking about what mikey said and then you lied in bed still thinking about Leo. There was just something about him that made you feel better and safe.

[slikbedding]

the pale moonlight #2

pairing: Eddie Munson x Harrington fem reader

warning: smut, 18+ no minors ( I will come for all your left shoes), slight rough sex, fear of getting caught, fluff ending.

part 1

3 months, 2weeks, 4 days, 7 hours, 17 minutes, and 9 seconds. That's how much time has passed since that night at the park. Eddie and you had grown closer, you quit working at the arcade and started work down the road at the record shop with Eddie and Gareth. “No, shut up black Sabbath has the better covers.” Eddie argued with Gareth. “You guys have this argument at least twice A DAY.” you spoke, putting an exaggerated emphasis on the last two words. “Darling, we always do this. We've done this since, what middle school?” Gareth asked, turning towards Eddie, who nodded in response. You went back behind the register leaving the two male on the floor by the heavy metal records. The bell of the front door brought you out of your trance to see who entered. “Hi, welcome in let us know if you need any help-” you were soon cut off by an all too familiar and dreadful voice. “Hey love, heard you started working here so I came to see my girl-” Ryan started to speak till you had cut him off. “I'm not your love, girlfriend, or anything anymore so please do us both a favor and get your fucking head out of your own ass. And leave me the fuck alone, plus I am kind of seeing someone now.” you said partially lying with the whole seeing someone, not entirely, you had developed a massive crush on Eddie. “Really? Now, who would that be?” Ryan asked, but he knew how bad of a flirt you were. “Hey babe, where are the dio records again?” Eddie asked leaning across the counter where you were. “Oh its in the back by the, um, fuck i can’t remember i can go get them if you want?” you smiled at Eddie with thankful eyes. “Wait, the guy you're seeing is Eddie Munson. Your brother's best friend?” Ryan asked purely out of shock, disbelief, and anger. “Oh, hey Ryan didn’t see you there, but yeah we’re together. We have been since I took her home from the party from oh so long ago.” Eddie was slightly joking, but Ryan was completely oblivious to it. “Well, I was just, I'm gonna go now.” Ryan said leaving in a huff. “Thanks, i know for a fact that if you didn't show up or help me in any way he wouldn’t have left, i owe you one eds’.”  you smiled finally letting out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Eddie smiled at you and walked around the counter to stand next to you behind the register. “Any time Harrington, plus we’ve known each other since the whole vecna thing. So, think of this as my way of thanking you for saving my life from the demobats.” he said leaning on the counter. You looked over at him and smiled. “I just wish I had the balls to actually speak to you last year, when that was going on, ya know?" you couldn’t help the blush forming on your face when he laughed.

        5 months, 3 weeks, 1 day, and 12 hours. your parents were out of town, once again, leaving you and your brother alone in the house. Which is how you both ended up inviting friends over for two sleepovers. Steve was in his room with Eddie and Jonathan, you were in yours with robin and Nancy. “No way, the breakfast club is the better molly ringwald movie.” it was around 11:30 pm and Nancy and robin were arguing over molly ringwald movies. “y/n back me up.” Nancy asked you, nicely, but you could tell she was slightly angry and her Sapphic friend. “She's not going to be much help nanc, she doesn’t like miss molly.” Robin said, rolling her eyes. Nancy gasped at the new fact spewed out by Robin's big mouth. “I've known you since our freshman year of high school, how did I not know this?” Nancy asked you to laugh at her as did robin. It was now 2 am everyone was asleep, at least you thought, and you were downstairs watching jaws for like the 50,000th time at this point. “Steve said this was your favorite movie.” a male voice said from behind the couch. You turned your head to see Eddie standing there, shirtless and in black sweatpants, you laughed a little. “Awe, I knew he talked about me. But him talking about me to you, that's confusing.” you had said with a laugh, Eddie chuckled before jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you. “Yeah, he really cares about you. As a matter of fact he said if one of his guy friends wanted to date you, depending on who it is, he most likely wouldn’t mind.” Eddie looked at the TV the whole time he spoke. “Oh, really? Who would he allow to date me?” you asked, looking from him to the TV. “Me.” was all Eddie said, peeling his eyes away from the TV to look at you. Making eye contact with him awoke something inside you, what it was, you had no idea. And that led to you under him in just your panties, with him in his boxers, in the guest room, which was right next to Steve's room. “Eddie.” you moaned quietly while he kissed from your neck down to your core. “God, y/n, you make it hard not to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” he chuckled slightly kissing just above your pantie line. “Eddie, I'm extremely impatient right now and i haven’t had sex in like, 6 months, so please just skip all the teasing and foreplay.” you almost whined, that egged Eddie on. “Fine only this one time. But you have to be very quiet, while yes your broth said it was fine if we dated, i don’t want him to know that i fucked you after 20 minutes of us being together.” Eddie was quick to remove the only two pieces of clothing that separated you both. You could see in his eyes he was thinking about protection. You pulled him down by the back of his neck into a desperate hot kiss. When you parted ways , both of you were breathing heavily. “I'm on the pill.” was all it took for him to place the tip of his cock into your hole. He looked at you once, but seeing the pleasure in your eyes just from the tip he couldn’t wait. Eddie pushed the whole mass of him into your hot cunt. “Fuck.” you whined feeling him fill you up was like a dream and if that's what this was then you didn’t want to wake up. He pushed and pulled his thick cock in and out of you moaning at the feeling of your heat swallowing him. “Shit, y/n are you always this, fuck, tight.” Eddie moaned leaning down towards your ear, keeping his full weight off of you as he rutted his hips into yours. “Like i said, 6 months of no sex, so.” you smirked and choked out a nearly loud moan before Eddie had covered your mouth. I said be quiet I'm not trying to get fucking caught.” Eddie whispered in your ear, with a husky deep growl. “Harder.” you moaned into Eddie's hand. He complied and started thrusting both faster and harder. He could see the moonlight shining down on your face, neck and body. Eddie loved the way the light looked on your skin, which only made him trust faster into you There was an all too familiar feeling in your stomach, you started reaching your hand down and started messing with your clit. Eddie caught sight of it fairly quickly. “Fuck doll, you that desperate?” he growled, pushing into faster. In response you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, causing you both to choke back loud moans. Soon his movements became rough and needy. The knot you felt got tight enough to where it was going to snap. “I'm… fuck, I'm clo,” you were cut off by your own hand covering your mouth as you came. Eddie continued to slam his hips into yours, which caused you to cry almost. Finally he came, inside you nonetheless, he pushed his hips in and out of you slowly. He pulled out and helped you both get dressed. After you were dressed he picked you up and brought you to your room, stepping over a robin starfish on your bedroom floor, and placed you down on your bed under the covers. He turned to leave when you grabbed his arm, and mouthed a sleepy stay. He climbed into your bed knowing he’ll have to explain what happened to everyone in the morning, but that was a problem for future Eddie. Once again this was another memories the pair of you shared under the pale moonlight.

[munson-blurbs]

Maybe an angst blurb about Eddie and his gf have officially graduated and maybe moved out together. But Eddie’s still in his immature phase and still goes to the school and plays D&D all the time and his gf is really wanting him to grow up and get a job and start focusing on life not a fantasy game. Get into a big fight about his being immature and still playing games with kids when he’s turning 21 soon etc I love your writing so much by the way

Please reblog this if it comes on your feed; Tumblr isn't showing my blog in search or tags. Thank you!

Warnings: language, angst, not a happy ending, gn!reader

WC: 711

A/N: This is sad. I'm sorry. One of my pet peeves is fics where someone messes up really badly and it's unrealistically fixed at the end, so I didn't want to do that. Pls forgive me <3

--

7:30 pm. Dinner's been on the table for 45 minutes, stone cold at this point. You would heat up your portion in the microwave and eat without him, but you've lost your appetite.

After a long week of work and classes, Friday nights should be your time to decompress. So much of your "free" time was spent poring over your notes or writing essays, wishing you could just watch TV and snuggle up with Eddie. You'd also had to pick up extra shifts lately, as Corroded Coffin's gig weren't enough for Eddie to cover his portion of the rent. Long story short, you're utterly exhausted.

At 9:00, Eddie bursts through the apartment door. "Sorry, sorry," he mutters, purposefully avoiding your glare. "The campaign went on longer than I anticipated, and then Wheeler needed a ride home because Nancy had already left for her date, so--"

"Save it," you snap, eyes welling with tears. "I'm so fucking sick and tired of this, Eddie. I cooked dinner for us, and you're lucky money's so tight, or I would've just thrown it all away." You turn to your bedroom but stop before you get there. "And do you know why money is tight?"

Eddie's eyes graze the floor, unable to meet yours. "Because I don't have a job," he mumbles under his breath.

"Yes, Eddie. Because you don't have a job. And any time that you could spend finding one, you choose to plan campaigns for a club at a school you don't even go to anymore!" You wince as you feel yourself yelling. Shouting was how your mom maintained her control over the family, and you promised not to do the same. Well, look at you now.

"They're still my friends," he offers lamely. "I thought you liked them, too."

You scoff. "Don't try that manipulative shit with me. You know I love your friends. What I don't love," you add pointedly, "is you waltzing in here at whatever time you want, missing dinner, and throwing some pathetic excuse at me, week after week."

Eddie's silent, chewing on a lock of his hair, so you continue.

"You promised me," you say, choking back a sob, "that we would be a family. Give each other the love and patience we didn't have growing up. How are we supposed to be a family if you won't even put in minimal effort to support me?"

He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away before he can grab it. "Don't," you hiss. "Just leave me alone. Go sleep at Wayne's."

You've never kicked him out before, but you can't even bear to feel his presence right now. Your heart sinks thinking of the love and energy you've invested into this relationship: the sleepless nights helping him study so he could finally graduate, cheering him on during gigs when you really needed to crash, staying in Hawkins so he could be near his uncle when all you'd ever wanted was to hightail it out of this town.

"C-can't I just sleep on the couch?" he asks softly. "We can talk about it in the morning."

You shake your head. "No, Eddie." There's finality in your tone. "All we ever do is talk about it, but nothing changes. Until you get your shit together and start acting like an adult, I'm done. We're done."

"We're done? Are you...breaking up with me?"

You bite your bottom lip, willing your body to stop shaking. "I need an adult relationship with an adult boyfriend. I've given you countless opportunities to be what I need, and I've realized..." You take a deep breath before continuing. "I've realized that I can't make you do this for me. But I also can't run myself ragged trying to save our relationship."

Eddie's crying now, tears streaming down his face. "I fucked up so bad," he says, though you're unsure if he's talking to you or himself. "I'm so sorry." But he goes into the room and pulls out a suitcase, haphazardly throwing in an assortment of clothes.

As he leaves, dragging his bag behind him, he turns back to you. "I love you."

You just nod, and he closes the door behind him. You love him, too. But sometimes, that isn't enough.

--

[truecrimetime]

The Disappearance of Maura Murray

Maura Murray was a 21-year-old nursing student, completing her junior year at the University of Massachusetts Amherst at the time of her disappearance. On Monday, February 9, after midnight, Murray used her computer to search MapQuest for directions to the Berkshires and Burlington, Vermont. That same day, the first reported contact that Murray had with anyone was with her boyfriend, at 1:00pm. She emailed him: "I love you more stud. I got your messages, but honestly, I didn't feel like talking too much of anyone, I promise to call today though. love you, Maura." She also made a phone call inquiring about renting a condominium at the same Bartlett, New Hampshire, condo association that her family had vacationed with in the past. Telephone records indicate that the call lasted about three minutes. The owner did not rent the condo to Murray. Murray called a fellow nursing student for reasons unknown, at 1:13pm.

On February 9, at 1:24pm, Murray emailed a work supervisor of the nursing school faculty stating that she would be out of town for a week due to a death in her family. However, according to her family, they did not have a death in the family at that time. At 2:05 pm, Murray called a number which provides recorded information about booking hotels in Stowe, Vermont and the call lasted about five minutes. At 2:18 pm, she telephoned her boyfriend and left a voice message promising him they would talk later. This call ended after only one minute.

In her car, Murray had packed clothing, toiletries, and college textbooks. When her room was later searched, campus police discovered that most of her belongings had been packed in boxes and the art had been removed from the walls. It's not clear whether Murray packed them that day, but police at the time said she had packed between Sunday night and Monday morning.

 On top of the boxes was a printed email to Murray's boyfriend indicating that their was trouble in their relationship. Around 3:30 pm, she drove off the campus in her black 1996 Saturn sedan. Classes at the university had been canceled that day due to a snowstorm.

At 3:40pm, Murray withdrew $280 from an ATM and closed-circuit footage showed that she was alone. Murray then purchased about $40 of alcoholic beverages from a nearby liquor store. At some point in the day, she also picked up accident-report forms from the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles.

Murray left Amherst between 4 and 5pm, presumably along interstate 91 north.  She called to check her voicemail at 4:37 pm, the last recorded use of her cell phone. To date there has been no indication that she informed anyone of her destination, or any evidence that she had even chosen one.

After 7:00pm, a Woodsville, New Hampshire resident heard a loud thump outside her house. Through her window, she saw a car up against the snowbank along Route 112, also known as Wild Ammonoosuc Road. The car pointed west on the eastbound side of the road. The woman reported the car accident to the Grafton County Sherriff's Department at 7:27pm. According to the 911 call log, the woman had claimed to see a man smoking a cigarette inside the car but she later set the record straight and said that she had not seen a man smoking a cigarette but rather what appeared to be a red light glowing from inside the car, potentially from a cell phone.

 A passing motorist, a school bus driver who lived nearby, stopped at the scene. They claimed to have seen the car, as well as a young woman walking around the vehicle. The motorist noticed that the woman was not bleeding or visibly injured, but appeared to be cold ad shivering. he had offered to call for help but she asked him not to call the police, assuring him that she had already called AAA, but AAA has no record of any such call. The motorist continued home and called the police, knowing that there was no cellular reception in the area. His call was received by the Sheriff's Department at 7:43 pm. He was not able to see Murray's car when he made the call but he did notice several cars pass the road before police arrived to the scene. Another local resident driving home from work claimed to have passed the scene around 7:37pm, and saw a police SUV parked face to face with Murray's car. She pulled over briefly but did not see anyone inside or outside of the car, then deciding to continue home. However, this witness's statement contradicts the official police log, which has Haverhill police arriving nine minutes later. When the police arrived at the scene, at 7:46pm, the woman driver had disappeared. Both inside and outside the car, an officer discovered what appeared to be red wine stains. Inside the car there was an empty beer bottle, a damaged box of Franzia wine, AAA card issued to Murray, blank accident report forms, compact discs, gloves, makeup, diamond jewelry, Murray's favorite stuffed animal, driving directions to Burlington, Vermont, and Not Without Peril, a book about climbing in the White Mountains. Missing items included Murray's credit and debit cards, and cell phone, none of which have been found since her disappearance. Police were able to trace the vehicle to Murray, and initially treated her as a missing person, with the belief that she may have voluntarily disappeared. This speculation was based on her apparent travel preparations and no obvious evidence of foul play.  In 2009, Murray's case was given to the New Hampshire cold case division, and authorities are handling it as a "suspicious" missing persons case.

Sometime between 8:00 and 8:30pm, a contractor returning home from Franconia, saw a young woman, on foot, moving quickly eastbound on Route 112 about 4 to 5 miles east of where Murray's vehicle was discovered. He also noticed that the woman was wearing jeans, a dark coat, and a light-colored hood. He did not report this to police immediately due to his own confusion regarding the dates, barely discovering three months later that he had spotted this person on the same night that Murray had disappeared.

The responding officer and the bus driver drove around the area searching for Murray. Just before 8:00 pm, EMS and a fire truck arrived to clear the scene. By 8:49 pm, the car had been towed to a local garage, and at about 9:30 pm, the responding officer left. A rag believed to have been part of Murray's emergency roadside kit was discovered stuffed into the Saturn's muffler pipe. Authorities would refer to Murray as simply "missing" at 12 pm the next day, almost 24 hours after the last confirmed sighting of her.

At 12:36 pm the following day, February 10, a "Be on the Lookout" report for Murray was issued. She was reported as wearing a dark coat, jeans, and a black backpack. A voicemail was left on Fred Murray's home answering machine at 3:20 pm stating that her car had been found abandoned. He was working out of state and did not receive this call. At 5:00 pm, Murray's older sister contacted her father to make him aware of the situation. He then contacted the Haverhill Police Department and was told that, if Murray was not reported safe by the following morning, the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department would start a search. At 5:17 pm, Murray was first referred to as "missing" by the Haverhill police.

On February 11, Murray's father arrived before dawn in Haverhill. At 8:00 am, New Hampshire Fish and Game, the Murrays, and others began to search. A police dog tracked the scent from one of Murray's gloves 100 yards east from where the vehicle had been discovered, but lost the scent. This suggested to police she'd left the area in another car. At 5:00 pm, Murray's boyfriend and his parents arrived in Haverhill. He was interrogated in private, and then was joined by his parents for questioning. At 7:00 pm, the police said they believed Murray came to the area either to run away or attempt suicide but her family believed that this was unlikely.

Murray's boyfriend had turned off his cell phone during his flight to Haverhill. At some point, he had received a voicemail that he believed to be the sound of Murray sobbing. The call was traced to a calling card issued to the American Red Cross.

On February 12, Murray's father and her boyfriend held an evening press conference in Bethlehem, New Hampshire, and the next day the first press coverage was published. At 3:05 pm, the police reported Murray might be headed to the Kancamagus Highway area, and she was "listed as endangered and possibly suicidal". The police report also stated Murray was intoxicated at the crash site, although the bus driver had said she did not appear impaired. The Haverhill police chief said that, "Our concern is that she's upset or suicidal."

A week after Murray's disappearance, her father and boyfriend were interviewed by CNN's American Morning.  Murray's family expanded their search into Vermont, dismayed that authorities there hadn't been informed of her disappearance.

Although missing person cases are normally handled by local and state police, the FBI joined the investigation ten days after she disappeared. The FBI interviewed family from Massachusetts and the Haverhill police chief announced that the search was now nationwide. Ten days after her disappearance, New Hampshire Fish and Game conducted a second ground and air search, using a helicopter with a thermal imaging camera, cadaver dogs, and tracking dogs. Murray's older sister discovered a ripped white pair of women's underwear lying in the snow on a secluded trail near French Pond Road on February 26, but DNA tests found that the underwear didn't belong to Murray.

The police returned the items found in Murray's car to her family, at the end of February. On March 2, the family checked out of their motel, exhausted from the search. Fred Murray returned nearly every weekend to continue searching. In April, Haverhill Police informed him of complaints of trespassing on private property. 

The March 2004 disappearance of Brianna Maitland in Montgomery, Vermont, 66 miles away from Murray's last sighting in Woodsville, drew comparisons from media and law enforcement due to the similarities in disappearances. However, state police have stated there are no links between the two cases.

In April and again in June, New Hampshire and Vermont police dismissed any connection between Murray's case and Maitland's. In a press release, they stated they believed that "Maura was headed for an unknown destination and may have accepted a ride in order to continue to that location," adding that they had discovered no evidence that a crime had been committed. They dismissed the possibility that a serial killer was involved.

On July 1, the police retrieved the items found in Murray's vehicle from her family for forensic analysis. On July 13, a one-mile radius search was performed by nearly 100 searchers, including state troopers, rescue personnel, and volunteers. This was the fourth search around the crash area and the first search performed without snow on the ground. Authorities were most interested in locating the black backpack Murray had in her possession but not found in her car. Police stated the search discovered "nothing conclusive".

In late 2004, a man allegedly gave Murray's father a rusty, stained knife that belonged to the man's brother, who had a criminal past and lived less than a mile from where the car was discovered. His brother and his brother's girlfriend were said to have acted strangely after the disappearance, and the man's brother claimed he believed the knife had been used to kill Murray. Several days after the knife was given to Murray's father, the man's brother allegedly scrapped his Volvo.  Family members of the man who turned in the knife claimed he had made up the story in order to obtain reward money in the investigation, and that he had a history of drug use.

In 2005, Fred Murray petitioned New Hampshire Governor, Craig Benson for assistance in the search and appeared on The Montel Williams Show in November of 2004 to publicize the case. On February 9, 2005, the first anniversary of Murray's disappearance, a service was held where the car was found, and her father met briefly with New Hampshire Governor, John Lynch.

In late 2005, Fred Murray filed suit against several law enforcement agencies, with the aim of seeing files on the case. On November 1, 2005, a user named "Tom Davies" logged into a message board called "Not Without Peril", which was dedicated to discussion of Murray's disappearance, and claimed to have seen a black backpack behind a restroom at Pemigewasset Overlook, around 30 miles east of Woodsville on Route 112. Murray had owned a black backpack. Senior Assistant Attorney General Jeffery Strelzin stated that law enforcement "was aware of the backpack," but did not disclose whether it had been taken for forensic testing.

The New Hampshire League of Investigators, ten retired police officers and detectives, and the Molly Bish Foundation started working on the case in 2006. Tom Shamshak, a former police chief and a member of the Licensed Private Detectives Association of Massachusetts, said, "It appears...that this is something beyond a mere missing persons case. Something ominous could have happened here." The Arkansas group Let's Bring Them Home offered a $75,000 reward in 2007 for information that could solve her disappearance.

In October 2006, volunteers led a two-day search within a few miles of where Murray's car was found.  In the closet of an A-frame house approximately 1 mile from the crash site, cadaver dogs allegedly went "bonkers", possibly identifying the presence of human remains. The house had formerly been the residence of the man implicated by his brother, who had given Fred Murray the rusty knife in 2004.  A sample of carpet from the home was sent to the New Hampshire State Police, but the results were never released to the public. In July 2008, volunteers led another two-day search through wooded areas in Haverhill. The group consisted of dog teams and licensed private investigators.

Murray's case was one of many cited by proponents of a statewide cold case unit for New Hampshire in 2009. Her case was subsequently added to the newly established cold case unit later that year.  In 2010, Fred Murray publicly criticized the police investigation for treating the disappearance as a missing persons case and not a criminal matter, and called on the FBI to join the investigation. Jeffery Strelzin said in February 2009 that the investigation was still active: "We don't know if Maura is a victim, but the state is treating it as a potential homicide. It may be a missing-persons case, but it's being handled as a criminal investigation."

In 2014, on the tenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Strelzin stated that "We haven't had any credible sightings of Maura since the night she disappeared." In an article published in the New York Daily News on the tenth anniversary of his daughter's disappearance, it was reported that Fred Murray believed she was dead and had been abducted the night of her disappearance.

On February 9, 2017, the thirteenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Strelzin wrote in an email to The Boston Globe: "It's still an open case with periods of activity and at times it goes dormant. There are no new updates to share at this time."

In February 2019, the fifteenth anniversary of Murray's disappearance, Fred Murray reiterated his belief that his daughter was dead, as well as his suspicions about the nearby house that cadaver dogs responded to, stating, "That's my daughter, I do believe." In early April, excavation was done within the basement of the house. Fred Murray had previously wanted to search the home, but the owners did not cooperate. Following sale of the property, its new owners allowed several searches of the property since February. The excavation conducted in early April found "absolutely nothing, other than what appears to be a piece of pottery or old piping."

In early 2021, the tree at the site where Murray was last seen—which had been marked with a blue ribbon as a memorial—was cut down by the property owner. Shortly thereafter, a request from Murray's family to have a New Hampshire historical marker placed at the site, which had been submitted in late 2020, was turned down by the New Hampshire Division of Historical Resources. 

On September 14, 2021, New Hampshire State Police announced that bone fragments had been found on Loon, Mountain in Lincoln, New Hampshire, approximately 25 miles east of the site of Murray's crash. Murray had been to the mountain before and had knowledge of the area, according to her sister. The bone fragments were described as "pretty small," and it was expected to take at least two months to determine if they were the remains of Murray or not. In November, it was announced that the remains did not belong to Murray.

In January 2022, FBI issued a national alert in Murray's case and created a Violent Criminal Apprehension Profile, allowing multiple law enforcement agencies to share information regarding her case. In July 2022, law enforcement in New Hampshire initiated a search in the towns of Landaff and Easton.

It's important to note that before Murray had disappeared, she had showed some rather irregular behavior. In November 2003, three months before her disappearance, Murray admitted to using a stolen credit card to order food from several restaurants, including one in Hadley, Massachusetts. The charge was continued in December, and dismissed after three months' of good behavior.

On the evening of February 5, 2004, while she was on duty at her campus-security job, Murray spoke on the phone with her older sister, Kathleen. They discussed Kathleen's relationship problems with her fiancé. Around 10:30 p.m., while still on her shift, Murray reportedly broke down in tears. When her supervisor arrived at her desk, Murray was "just completely zoned out. No reaction at all. She was unresponsive." The supervisor escorted Murray back to her dorm room around 1:20 am. When asked what was wrong, Murray said two words: "My sister." The contents of this call remained unknown until October 2017, when Kathleen publicly explained the conversation: Kathleen, a recovering alcoholic, had been discharged from a rehabilitation clinic that evening, and on the way home, her fiancé took her to a liquor store, which caused an emotional breakdown.

On Saturday, February 7, Murray's father Fred arrived in Amherst. He told investigators he and Murray went car-shopping that afternoon, and later went to dinner with a friend of his daughter. Murray dropped her father off at his motel room and, borrowed his Toyota Corolla, and returned to campus to attend a dorm party. She arrived at 10:30 pm. At 2:30 am on Sunday, February 8, she left the party. At 3:30 am, en route to her father's motel, she struck a guardrail on Route 9 in Hadley, causing nearly $10,000 worth of damage to her father's car. The responding officer wrote an accident report, but there is no documentation of field sobriety tests being conducted. Murray was driven to her father's motel and stayed in his room the rest of the morning. At 4:49 am, there was a cell phone call placed to her boyfriend from Fred's phone. The participants and content of the phone call are not known.

Later Sunday morning, Fred Murray had learned that the damage done to his vehicle would be covered by his auto insurance. He rented a car, dropped Murray off at the university, and departed for Connecticut. At 11:30 that night, Fred called his daughter to remind her to obtain accident forms from the Registry of Motor Vehicles. They agreed to talk again Monday night to discuss the forms and fill out the insurance claim via phone.

Maura Murray has never been found.

[lollytruecrimeworld]

Schoolgirl Murder

An unsolved murder that ended in a severe miscarriage of justice

At around 6 pm on Wednesday 7 June 1972, 14-year-old Queen Elizabeth grammar school student Judith Roberts left her home at 155 Gillway Lane, Wigginton, Tamworth. Judith took her green Raleigh bike, which had been a present from her parents two years earlier, and rode off along Main Road, then along Comberford Lane, which becomes Wiggington Lane.

Judith often rode this route after school, She would arrive home from school at around 4:30 pm, have her tea and do her homework for an hour or so before going for a ride on her bicycle. She would ride ‘round the block’, which consisted of Gillway to Wigginton Road, Comberford Lane to Comberford Road back to Gillway and home.

On June 7th 1972 Judith’s routine was pretty much the same as every school day. She arrived home at around 4.30 pm after school was over, her mother had prepared a salad and banana custard for tea, but Judith didn’t feel like eating, she had worrying things on her mind. Her period was three weeks late and with her mind full, her stomach felt the same. Judith left her salad and swallowed down the banana custard with a drink.

Her mother said that she would tell Judith’s father that she had not eaten her meal. Around 5.15 pm Vincent Robert arrived home to see that instead of eating her meal, Judith was doing homework in the living room, thoroughly engrossed.

Vincent was not happy that his daughter had missed her tea and summoned her to the kitchen, where he asked her to eat. Judith sat at the table but reportedly only nibbled half-heartedly at some lettuce, a tomato and spring onion.

Mr Roberts told his daughter off for not eating fresh food and told her to go back to complete her homework. He told her that he would expect her to eat what she had left for her supper. Judith finished her homework, put on her navy-blue anorak and went to get her bike from the shed in the back garden.

As always Judith let her pet hamster Horace out of his cage and pinned a notice on the shed door saying, ‘Horace on the floor’ and took off on her bike ride. She was still wearing her blue and white school uniform dress, her navy blue anorak with black tie-up shoes. Underneath her clothes, she wore a bra and two pairs of knickers (one under her tights, the other over).

There were witnesses to Judith leaving the house on that fateful evening and with it being summer time it was daylight so they could not have been mistaken. The next-door neighbour, Bertha Evans, at 153 Gillway recalled seeing Judith go left out of number 155 onto Gillway in the direction of Wigginton Road.

Maude Best of 134 Gillway, was out walking her dog and remembered seeing Judith close to the junction of Wigginton Road and Brown’s Lane, Judith had stopped briefly to chat with Maude before continuing her bike ride. Judith would normally make sure back by around 6.30 pm to watch ‘Cross Roads’, a TV soap opera that was very popular at the time. Sadly on the night in question, the 14-year-old did not make it home.

The pathologist report suggested that Judith came to Comberford Lane, where she had become separated from her bike for reasons that have not been established. The report indicates that at around 7 pm she was subjected to a frenzied attack, which left her dead.

A description of Judith was distributed and the police began an investigation straight away with an intensive search of the area. Police with dogs searched the town with local volunteers, a mountain rescue team, RAF airmen and military troops from Whittington Barracks.

Judith was 5ft 1 inch tall, medium build, fair skin and hair with braces on her upper teeth. Obviously, there was always the green bicycle to be considered as Judith had it with her when she left home.

An intensive search for Judith spread through the day and night of Thursday and by Friday police with dogs were looking in canals, rivers, and local barns on farmland.

On Saturday 10 June, some 300+ members of the Whittington Army barracks joined the search. The Junior Soldiers Company from Whittington Barracks were called upon to make a search of local fields. A statement made by a soldier said that at 2.30 pm that afternoon the squad began to carefully search fields from south to north on the western side of Wigginton.

The search came to a local corn field known as ‘Robinson’s Field’, not far in Comberford Lane, at about 4.30 pm. Private Barry Gibson, a soldier in the search said, “On reaching Comberford Lane we commenced searching the field on the other side of the lane. To enter this field, which had been roughly ploughed, I opened a gate and walked in first in front of L/Cpl Steele.” In the field, Private Gibson made three dreadful finds.

Soon after entering the field, the soldier found a green Raleigh bicycle thrown into a thorn hedge, the front wheel sticking out of the hedge. “I turned left and sttarted to walk up the hedge,” reported Gibson. “I had gone about seven yards when I saw about two yards in front of me a green Moulton pedal cycle lying into the hedge with the front wheel towards the gate. I shouted and was joined at once by L/Cpl Steele and others.”

The soldiers scoured the field and about a yard to the right of the cycle there was a big pile of hedge trimmings.” A soldier noticed a piece of blue-coloured material sticking out from the mound of hedge cuttings. When he lifted a piece of cloth he saw human hair covered with blood and a piece of human flesh. He had found the blue anorak that Judith had been wearing when she set out on her bike ride three days before.

The final horrifying discovery was hidden under the hedge cuttings. Three pieces of corrugated sheet, underneath which were two fertiliser bags covering Judith’s body face down. Forensic investigations revealed that she had been bludgeoned to death, her skull shattered into 18 fragments and viciously sexually assaulted. Judith had been put into a shallow grave and pushed under the hedge feet first.

Officers from Staffordshire Police arrived at the scene within minutes of receiving a call to say that soldiers had discovered a body. A Home Office Pathologist, Dr Scholtz Barendo Van-Der-Merwe, was also called to attend the scene of the crime and arrived within around two hours.

The police reported that Judith had been stripped of her clothes from the waist down with the front of her dress and anorak pulled up over her breasts. Her bra was still in place with the breasts covered.

A report from the Home Office Pathologist reads, “At approximately 6.45 pm on Saturday 10 June 1972, I visited the scene of a serious crime in a field off Comberford Lane, near Tamworth. It had been and was still raining. Present were Mr Rees Chief Constable of Staffordshire, Mr Bailey Assistant Chief Constable, Detective Chief Superintendent Wright, Detective Superintendent Jordan, Detective Constable Prince as well as two photographers and other police officers”.

“The field had been roughly ploughed but there was a fairly wide border of ground (headland) over which grass and weeds were growing, moderately short near the ploughed edge and very long at the edge which was tall and overhanging. A newish pedal cycle lay at the base of the hedge some yards inside the gate and not visible except from inside the field. Various pieces of rubbish and pieces of brick lay on the grass verge and a large pile of relatively fresh privet hedge clippings, a pile of soil and rubble lay near the cycle but separated by tall weeds from it. Some yards further along the foot of the hedge and below its overhang another pile of clippings was visible through a gap in the weeds and grass”

“This almost totally obscured the body of which only a hand was visible, and nearest the field, part of a blue anorak and a corner of white plastic material. The grass beneath the body was flattened by the weight of the body, relatively orderly in fashion, not churned about and dry to the touch. The feet were extended well into the hedge with stems of dry grass and twigs caught between some toes. The site where the body lay was relatively orderly and gave the appearance that it had been placed there fairly carefully and that it had been pushed under the hedge feet first”.

Mr Wright continued, “The body was subsequently removed to the Public Mortuary at Kettlebrook, where it was identified to me by Mr V.E. Roberts, to be that of his daughter Judith Roberts, aged 14 years. At 8.15 pm the same night I was present when Doctor Van-der-Merwe carried out a Post Mortem examination on the body and saw him remove a navy blue quilted pattern anorak…. a blue coloured patterned dress…. and a brassiere…. which appeared to be intact and in place. I saw obvious and multiple injuries to the left side of the face, temple and scalp”.

“At 3.15 pm on Tuesday 20th January 1972 with Detective Chief Superintendent Saunders and Detective Constable Prince, I again attended the Mortuary whilst Doctor Van-der-Merwe carried out an examination of the skull and brain”.

The pathologist report states that Judith was dragged by her upper right arm from the area where she was initially attacked on Comberford Lane to Robinson’s Field where she was party to a frenzied stabbing to her left temple area and masturbated over.

Professor Van-Der-Merwe concluded that the cause of death to Judith Roberts was a fractured skull, due to blows to the head with a sharp or potentially pointed object.

Sadly, despite the case being one of the most intense murder hunts in the history of the Midlands, this horrific murder still remains unsolved over 50 years on.

More than 200 police detectives worked on the investigation and took over 15,000 sets of fingerprints, carried out 11,000 door-to-door enquiries and took more than 11,000 statements.

Over 4,000 pieces of information were reviewed but in spite of all that the case still remains unsolved after almost 51 years.

The case was believed to have been solved for a number of years as a soldier who had been based at Whittington Barracks at the time of Judith’s murder, for some reason walked into a local police station, asking to see a photograph of the victim. He was interviewed over a three-day period and gave a full statement in which he confirmed his guilt.

As part of the police investigation into the murder, soldiers who were in residence at Whittington on June 7th 1972 were required to fill out a form detailing their whereabouts on that evening and provide referees to confirm their story.

Andrew Evans said that he had spent that evening in question at the barracks and gave the names of three other soldiers who could confirm this. Police failed to find one of the soldiers, and discovered the remaining two had in fact left the barracks before June 7th. Evans was questioned again in October by police at his grandma’s house.

On the morning after the interview, Andrew told his grandma that he intended to go to the police station and ask to see a picture of Judith He made that decision after having a dream in which he saw “a hazy combination of images of women’s faces” which somehow left him believing that he was the killer.

Although his grandma told him that it was not a good idea to do such a thing he still reported to Longton Police Station in a state of great distress. Evans made the request, telling them he had dreamt of Judith, saying, “I keep seeing a face. I want to see a picture of her. I wonder if I’ve done it".

Although Andrew Evans subsequently retracted his confession, a jury convicted him of murder at trial in 1973, and he was handed a life sentence.

A 1970s legal team advised Evans that he had absolutely no grounds for appeal, so he spent the next twenty years in prison before his case was brought to the attention of a British media journalist in 1994, and was taken up by the human rights group Justice when he contacted them about it.

There is a course of a belief that Judith may have been murdered by the Yorkshire ripper, Peter Sutcliffe and whilst it is possible I am not so sure.

An armchair detective, Chris Clark believes that he and his team have uncovered evidence that Judith was yet another victim of the Yorkshire Ripper.

Interestingly Chris has recently published a book, ‘Mark of a Serial Killer’ with a co-author, Tanita Mathews.

They claim to have searched national archives, studied pathology reports and read every word of the transcripts of Andrew Evans’ trial. They also claim to have spoken to Judith’s family.

They called upon the services of an independent pathologist to review the case. Chris Clark firmly believes that Judith was monster Sutcliffe’s unknown victim.

The Ripper died after contracting covid in 2020 aged 74 while a whole life sentence for the violent murders of thirteen women and the attempted murder of seven more. According to the author, Chris Clark, Judith’s murder fits with Sutcliffe’s modus operandi like a glove.

Allegedly on the evening of the teenager’s death, June 7th 1972, Sutcliffe was making a major journey to visit his then-fiancee in a hospital in Bexleyheath, London. He then returned to Bingley, West Yorkshire, where he worked nightshifts on the Baird TV company assembly plant.

So, let’s just let that sink in, Sutcliffe drove 250 miles to London, a long journey in the 70s with cars travelling at around 60mph top speed, visited his partner, drove 250 miles back, stopped off to viciously murder a 14-year-old girl, who he had no idea would be there for the taking, then drove to work. Possible? Yes. Likely? No, not in my opinion anyway.

I think that the killer was local and intentionally targeted his particular victim for a specific reason, but I am open to persuasion of course.

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[briantravels60]

Day 26 – Redondela to Pontevedra – 20 km.

I arrived in Pontevedra by 1:30 pm in time for lunch and enjoyed a pilgrim's meal of lentil soup, ham steak, wine, water, and flan for 10 euros (10 USD). After lunch I checked into my room in Pontevedra. On the topic of meals, much of my day is spent in search of food (& coffee), and my daily routine is roughly:

7:00 am – breakfast

9:30 am – second breakfast

1:30 pm – lunch (pilgrim’s meal when I can get it)

7:00 pm - dinner (a light meal)

The route was hilly with two 150 m hills to ascend and descend. The walk was pleasant, through the countryside and 10 villages on the way to Pontevedra. The old town of Pontevedra is beautiful with many courtyards containing cafes and restaurants sprinkled about.

I crossed the medieval bridge of Pontesampio. This is where the Battle of Pontesampio occurred during the Spanish War of Independence in 1809 and the Spanish decidedly defeated the French.

At the 10 km point, in the forest, there were two pop-up vendors. The first had cold drinks and the second, about 100 m beyond, offered hot drinks, fruits and snacks. A welcome stop.

After 25 days of walking, I ran into Philippe (Italy). I hadn't seen him since my first day when his knees were hurting so badly that he didn't think that he could go on. We walked and caught up like we’d been friends for a lifetime (in Camino life I’ve known him for 25 years). While walking we talked and laughed about some of the trials and tribulations that each of us have had and how we’ve overcome them. Coincidentally, my wife, Jan, rode by us while we were talking. He told me that he now knew that at least one thing that I told him was true. Philippe continued on from Pontevedra, not worrying about where he would stay. He told me that he has had to sleep outside two nights already and that he wasn’t concerned if he didn’t find a bed.

At O Pobo, I came to a deviation and I chose the route to the left. It traveled along the tree lined Tomeza River. The dirt path was shaded and tranquil. The distance was only 300 m further than the main route (roadway) but the natural beauty and solitude were worth it. When there's a deviation I take it. The route is usually a little longer but nicer.

Last night I stayed in Albergue A Casa da Herba. Cotton sheets and a blanket were provided. It had a kitchen and washing machine, and was very clean. My room was bright with lots of windows. Highly recommended.

[elcamino22]

Day 6 Astorga to Fonfria

Our shared room hostel was less fun for some of the crew.. I slept through it all, but apparently Aaron couldn’t sleep because of how loud the lady next to him was snoring.

The morning started early again around 6:15 with a breakfast of pastries, yogurt, and granola we got the night before.. and we also decided to add 7 miles to todays agenda despite it already being set to be our hardest day so far.. the town with population 26 seemed like a tough place to risk missing a hostel.

We got on the road as the sun rose and hung together for the first 10 miles. We told Aaron and Dex to pull ahead for the first mountain pass where we quickly added 2.5k ft of elevation. Per tradition, we left a rock at the highest point as a symbol of leaving our burdens behind.

We then rewarded ourselves with coffee and a rest on our way down (3k ft down.. very quickly).

Next we met Aaron and Dex at a local market then stopped for a lunch of sausage and sardines by el Castillo de Los Templarios before moving on together through the valley.

The valley ended with the final challenge of the day: 4 miles at between 9 and 12% grade.. for reference we were going so slow (and sweating so much) that the flies were keeping up with us.. I think I had over 20 in my halo by the top.

I also broke a spoke halfway up, but did get my first Harry’s shirt pic of the trip, so we’ll call it a win.

We had dinner at the peak and found a pilgrim prayer in the church that gave me goosebumps. Definitely a chilling and awe inspiring moment.

Finally, we rode the last 7 miles of the day along the mountain ridge as the sun set, checked into our Albergue, had a beer, and went to bed.

We stopped in several towns along the way, but today we were essentially on the bikes from 7:30 am to 8:45 pm. Another an incredible day.

[wispisstillverybored67]

Good Morning, World!

You can call me Marshmallow Fluff. I'm 29 years old. Not that you'd care, but I reside in Food Town's Candy District. Also, I've yet to marry. To make a living, I own a library, and I also occasionally sell my own novels. After I close up shop, I return home no later than 9:45 PM. I don't drink, but do enjoy an occasional smoke. I'm always in bed by 11 PM, and I make it a habit to get no less then 8 and a half hours of sleep each night. Before bed, I drink a warm glass of milk, coupled with 20 minutes of stretching to decompress from the day. Sweet dreams are the usual result of this. I then awake reborn and recharged as a child, ready to take on the day's challenges. And after my last checkup, I was given a clean bill of health...

Wake up. It's currently 7:30 AM. I would've liked to stay in a little earlier, but it's laundry day, and I would really prefer to get that done in the morning. I then crawled out of bed, still nude, and went off to go to the bathroom to clean up. ~🎵.

I'm nearly out of toothpaste, man... CONSERVE, brush (always bet on bubblegum), apply a bit of concealer to any blemishes, to which I've noticed that they're disappearing now. I mean, marshmallows don't have blemishes, they're marshmallows. Perfect little thingies~

Take a bit of hair gel, and gather my hair upwards. Just enough to keep the lot upwards throughout the day. Tie it in a pony, and there you have it. I suppose Candy can go some few days more until harvest day. Splash some water on my face, and that’s it for this one. 

 Now it’s time for breakfast. What shall I have for today? Hmm… Maybe an omelet with fried rice? Or a bagel with some cream cheese and jelly? Hmmhmhmm~🎵 Aha! Baguette! I bought some cod roe a few days ago, and I’ve got a nice idea… Take a turkey baster, fill it up with the crushed roe, stick it into one end and push, stick it in the toaster for a few minutes, slice and serve with olive oil. Just got to remember to spread some butter before the roe. This is going to be good. 

"Mornin' Maflu!" A highly familiar voice called from under the table, the moment I popped it in to toast. Pretending to ignore it, I just sat down at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper. Nothing interesting, of course, but still, I'm curious. Tales taken from what's going on in Food Town, one or two pages regulated to the closest human settlement for some God-forsaken reason, the usual things. Nothing on the Spice District, as usual... 

"Good morning, Candy," I finally responded in kind. Do I even bother asking how long she's been hanging under there. Not going to find any info through that. 

"You still going through the newspaper? You're like an old lady! Candy knows for a FACT that ain't fun! What part are you on???" She crawled off the floor, and hung off my shoulder. 

"The human sect. You're more interested in the human news. What even is there to look at? Candy bets they don't even have good candy there!" It's where they get supplies, you know... 

"I'm not harvesting the marshmallow fluff, if that's what you're implying." I know exactly why she's here. Whenever my hair, my namesake, soft, pure white and fluffy, reaches the floor, Candy will cut it all off, and eat it at her leisure. And every time it gets long enough, she tries to squeeze it out earlier, and I never budge. 

"Pleaaaaaaaaassssseeeeeee??? It's at the floor!" She insisted, making little puppy eyes on occasion. 

Sighing, I stood up straight. An inch or two off the ground is not on the ground. She started drooling, as expected. 

"I'll let you cut it this time around, how does that sound?" 

"AKSJEKTJTKJWLEBRKDNWKNFKGJF!" Dunno how she makes those noises. Or how that would make a difference. But Candy shall do what Candy pleases. She quickly left the house, still crawling. 

*ding!* Alright! This is going to be good... 

Cuuuuut it cut it cut it cut it...

Hmmhmhmm~🎵 As I thought, this is quite good. Yes, this went better then I suspected. Nom. One would think the flavors would be jumbled, but it's not at all. I made a good call here, now. After breakfast, I'll take care of the laundry~

Minutes later, it's now 8:15 am. I'd expect Dumpling to already be awake for his usual rounds. Rounds of avoiding Cinnamon, rounds of patrolling and getting lost in the woods, the works.

Grab the near-overflowing basket of dirty clothing from the basement, separate the whites from the rest of the lot, head outside to load up the washing machine, pour the right solutions in it, and after it's on, I don't have to do anything until the next hour or so. And luckily for me, the library isn't far a ways from the house. Just set a reminder on a clock, and we're done. Yoink. Beep. Presto. 

Now it's time to get dressed. The usual lot will do... White shirt under beige vest, black tie, yellow skirt, long enamel boots, fluffy wrist bands, little soft earrings, black hair bow~ And don't forget my glasses. Ta-da. Time to head to work. 

______________________________________________________________

Flip the "Sorry, We're Closed :(" sign over, undo the blinds from inside. Let's begin... I recently gained access to a handful of... manga, I think it's called, and some movies that I haven't gotten to sorting out that I ought to take care of today. I wonder what's inside...

I opened the boxes and dug into it. Movies of varying topics it may be, the one thing that matters to the one that's checking out is how cool the cover looks. Moving to the DVD shelves to start, I don't even think I payed attention to what I saw, which ones I recognized. I have little interest in movies, but Risotto always liked watching them. Hey, now that I think about it... where is he? Hmm... 

Belle, Black Swan, Blazing Saddles, Carrie, Detective Pikachu, Grease, Midsommar, Midsummer Knight's Dream, Mugen Train, Pulp Fiction, Rebellion, Se7en, Spirited Away, Walpurgisnacht Rising. A very curious mixture, but the M section was looking a little thin, so it's a welcome addition. I put them all away like clockwork, sorting the rest of the shelf out on the way. It's a very relaxing thing to do, sorting things out. 

The moment I put away the last flick, someone comes in for a book. The chime I installed last week is a lifesaver. 

*ting-a-ling~* "Morning, Marshmallow Fluff!"

"Good morning, Tomato," Quickly, I headed back to the check-out area. I know exactly what will happen. 

He simply needed to return the books he took out last week. And he didn't get any tomato sauce on it this time, so there's that bonus.

 

*beep* Before I moved here, the library in where I used to live had an automatic drop-off. Maybe I'll go ask Cinnamon about adding something like that later... 

Then he was off to fetch something else. The card just needs to be scanned, and this transaction is finished. 

"Is that all for you this time?" ...Jujutsu Kaisen? I thought he wasn't like that. Oh well. 

"Yeah. Real fun stuff this time. *ding* Thanks, man!" And just as quickly, he left. 

"Have a good day."

By this time, the rest of the box had been put away, though my alarm hadn't gone off yet, which is odd. Even Chili of all people came in for a book, though it was brief, as expected from someone like her. By this time, I should head out to find those who are late, and remind them of such. In that case, it would be... Dumpling. It shouldn't be that bad. Low Tide is the title that was missing for a while, and if I remind him, he'll move faster then he can scramble to pet a cat. And while I look for him, I can ask around for where Risotto went, because I believe he owes me, too. And people know to simply wait until I return from my rounds. Okay, let's head outside...

______________________________________________________________

It's now 9:35 am. Letting the laundry go over an extra 25 minutes seems to have done the trick. The unusual-origin stains have come out. I've since stuffed the lot in the drier, while the colors have gone in their place. Now, I am headed to the Grains District. 

"Hey, Marshmallow Fluff!" "Oh, good morning!" It's Bread and Butter. Maybe they know some...Why is she covered in flour? 

"Hey you two, have you..." Catching myself, I asked about that other thing. "Butter, why are you drenched in flour?"

"I found a recipe for baking bread. But while we were making it..." She began to giggle a little. It's a funny sight, I'll admit. 

"Something got up my nose and I sneezed," He added. Well, as they say. If at first you don't succeed, figure out why.

"Uh... huh. You really need to be careful with that. Oh, by the way..." I nearly left without mentioning why I was here at the moment. "Have either of you seen Dumpling or Risotto around here?" 

"Oh, that's it? One of 'em owe you?" She knows me well... 

"That, and Risotto hasn't called me on when he disappeared, like he tends to..." 

"I think I saw him follow Dumpling in the woods. I caught the two dashing out when I woke up from the window." Really now? What business do they have running about in the woods? Dumpling, I can understand with his designation as greeter (for whatever reason he wanted to be such), wanting to find fellow Food, but Risotto? Come on now. He's afraid of his own shadow. 

"Seriously? Well, thank you for that regardless. If you two see them again, tell them I'm looking for them. ...And when you're done with the baking, tell me the results, okay?" When I was given confirmation, I decided to go there now. Bread may have called out to me as I ran off to the woods, but I chose to ignore it. I shall have to take care of drying clothes when I get back. Shouldn't be too hard, now, right? 

[dizzydispatch]

Adjustments

Training began in earnest on November 13th. I was scheduled for a few rotations of morning shifts, 0700 to 1500. Then I'd do a few rotations of the eves, 1500 to 2300, and then my last two rotations would be overnights, 2300 to 0700 the next morning. If all went according to schedule, I'd be signed off on December 16th.

The purpose of staggering them like this, Kara told me, is to help ease the transition to night shifts. For her, adjusting to the overnights back when she was new had been a struggle. Taking her advice, I began to push myself to stay up later and later after evening shifts, forcing my body to adjust to being awake all night and sleeping during the day. 

At first, it was hard. With everything closed and my roommate asleep, I spent the first two or three nights after getting off at 2300 (11 PM, to the uninitiated) creeping around the house as silently as I could, reading books and drinking coffee until the early hours of the morning, when I could fight the exhaustion no longer. Then I'd drift off into a fitful, restless sleep until the sunshine beckoned me out of bed again. 

Self-doubt crept back in. I was starting to wonder if I was fighting a losing battle, if maybe Reg hadn't known all along the infallible truth: that I wasn't cut out to be a dispatcher. But the others, Kara and the supervisor and Dean-- the sometimes-cranky but always supportive third full-timer-- never lost hope in me. So I made a game plan.

First, I attacked the issue of the bright daylight hours robbing me of any good sleep. I bought blackout curtains and a sleep mask, added a pair of expensive soundproof headphones to my Amazon wish list (promising myself I'd buy them with my first overtime check), and a few days' supply of melatonin. Then, I found the nearest 24/7 gym. By the time I staggered in after my evening shift, the gym would be nearly empty. I'd stay from around midnight until the first few early-birds began to straggle in, between 4:30 and 5:30 AM. 

The exercise helped me a lot, as I soon realized that I wasn't just adjusting well; I was thriving. Keeping active left me more focused, in higher spirits, and eating better. I probably shed a few pounds too, something few if any can claim came about as a result of a dispatch career.

On the treadmill, instead of listening to a book or gazing vacantly at the TVs with their endless silent entertainment, I set up a map of the town, or printed copies of local policies and procedures. Between reps on the machines, I'd flip through Quizlet sets of town cops and their badge numbers, and put in order the list of tasks necessary during a working fire call. 

Thanks to Gabe, I had a scanner already programmed with the police and fire radios. He'd also introduced me to an app that gave me access to many of these channels live on my phone. I focused on the different voices I heard, learning to recognize the ones I'd be communicating with most at work. The "radio-ear" I'd started developing at Reg, I now fine-tuned. In an emergency, there wasn't time to be constantly asking, "What did they just say?"

I was ready. One month, six work rotations, and I was ready. In the end, Gabe was right. All I'd needed was the right kind of support. When December 16th finally rolled around, I went in with full confidence that I could do it, that I'd been adequately trained for any situation that might arise. 

There was only one concern: overnights were slow, and if, for my last shift, the dispatch supervisor didn't see me handling any actual emergencies, he might decide he couldn't sign me off tonight. The last three overnights had seen a combined total of one 9-1-1 call, which turned out to be accidental, and a handful of traffic stops. 

But fate must have been on my side, if not on the side of the elderly woman who called 9-1-1 to request an ambulance for her husband. The supervisor, halfway through my processing of the call, actually said, "I could walk out right now and go home." 

That was it. On the morning of December 16th, I walked out with the stamp of approval of the dispatch supervisor, and two days off to enjoy before I started working the desk alone. 

The next night, Gabe and I toasted with a bottle of champagne I'd  been holding onto in hopes of this very occasion, and he gave me a "graduation" present. It was a custom-made Dispatch polo and a glittery gold travel mug that had my name emblazoned on one side, while the other proudly announced: 9-1-1 Dispatcher.

"I've been holding onto it since Regional," he told me, his smile so full of pride that I couldn't help grin back. "That's how sure I was that you'd be successful, if not there then somewhere else. Somewhere that supported you." 

"They surely do here," I admitted, hugging him a bit tighter. "And I couldn't be more grateful to them, or to you."

[thoughtsinblue]

Vietnam #1 - Piggy

Piggy had a pair of racist dogs.

Now, there are so many ways I could remember Piggy - kind, thoughtful, oddly mature for our age, and sure, a little tone-deaf at times, but, unlike his dogs, he wasn't racist in the least. Yet, I specifically chose to remember him for his racist dogs.

This is a story about many things, but above all, it's a story about friendship.

In the summer of 2017, I, along with a group of people from around the world, was teaching English in Hanoi, Vietnam. That's when I first met Piggy. Of course, that's not his real name, but I don't think he'll complain about it either.

Piggy and I became fast friends. By the end of my stay in Hanoi, we were the best of friends. Piggy loved cursing. Looking at his face, you'd never expect him to dish out such profanity, but hey, that's Piggy, a true curse connoisseur. He had a pair of dogs that did not like anyone who wasn't light-skinned. He swore he hadn't trained them to be that way, that they were somehow inherently racist. Either way, I found it to be really hilarious. He also had a red scooter and two matching helmets, and boy did Piggy drive like a maniac. Late one night, after some beers, I walked a friend back to her hostel. On my way back home, in the usual fashion, I had my phone in my hand and my earphones plugged in. Just as I was about to turn a corner, I heard a scooter approaching me. Before I could react, I got robbed of my phone. I quickly reached home and dropped a message to Piggy and another friend. Immediately, they sent me a bunch of second-hand phone listings.

The next day, I sent Piggy the listing that I liked the most. He agreed with my choice of phone, but there was an issue. The listing was from a town 2.5 hours outside of Hanoi. I quickly decided to pick a different listing, but Piggy, truly a man of wisdom beyond his years, said, "Fuck second choices. I like the phone; let's ride." And so it was decided.

We left around 5 pm. The only problem was, we hadn't checked the store's operational hours. Turns out, the store closed at 7:30. So here we were, riding at top speed, clear roads, the beautiful countryside in the background. Had either of us been replaced with a woman, that would have been one hell of a romantic ride, but we didn't have time to think about any of that; we were running late. Piggy drove like a maniac, whizzing past cars. It was monsoon season back then, but Hanoi being Hanoi, the humidity had ensured that it was sweat-season. Even then, with how fast we were going, I genuinely could've used a hoodie. With a bit of luck on our side, we actually ended up reaching the store just 15 minutes before they closed.

Piggy did all the talking; all I did was pay up. We were in and out in less than 10 minutes. We decided to take it slow riding back to Hanoi. On the way back, the roads were still empty. We had time; we could take it easy. We enjoyed the countryside, with its (and I'm assuming based on stereotypes) rice paddy fields stretching into the horizon, the colors of the sunset just starting to fade away. Again, it would've been hugely romantic had it not been two dudes on a scooter.

Suddenly, Piggy saw something. He pointed it out, and I could swear we saw this creepy silhouette, and we panicked. Both of us thought it was approaching us, so I screamed for Piggy to hit the gas, and we were again riding at the speed of light. We were absolutely mortified. We only slowed down once we entered Hanoi. We decided that we had to get a few beers in us, and when we finally sat down at the beer stalls, both of us were white as ghosts. We laughed about it, but we both knew that had we lingered around for even a second longer, we'd have shat our pants.

Piggy was probably the best friend I could ask for. Right up until my last day in the country, he made sure that I always felt at home. If I ever needed any kind of help, even during the ungodly hours of the night, he'd be there. (He'd curse me out, but he'd be there.) Piggy was also wise in matters of love.

I had a thing for one of the girls I was working with. Looking back at it, she knew. Obviously, I told Piggy about it. On our last day in Hanoi, he told me that I should probably tell the girl. He drove me to where I was supposed to meet her. He stopped outside and encouraged me.

"You have to try; who knows, maybe it'll work out. I've seen the way she looks at you. I think there's a chance."

"I know, right! I've got this!"

Famous last words.

Later, he took me to my favorite kebab place in town. He never liked that place, but he understood that a man just had his heart broken; you can't compete with that. As we sat down to eat, he quietly let out a sigh.

"Well, while you were talking to her, I thought of something."

"Yeah, what?"

"I think you would've been better off not fuckin' telling her."

I just stared at him with a confused look on my face. It was his idea for me to confess after all.

"Look, I'm not saying this is healthy, but maybe if you hadn't told her, you could still be thinking about what the could've been. You could still hold on to hope for a while, and eventually, you'd forget about her, and things would return back to normal."

"So, what you're saying is…"

"Yeah. You had your heart broken for no goddamn reason."

We didn't speak for a while. We concentrated on our kebabs. Maybe it was the heartbreak, or maybe it was what Piggy said, but the kebab didn't taste right. Looking back at it now, I guess we were both processing what had happened. After a while, we looked at each other and started laughing.

Racist Dogs: I only met his dogs once when we all went over to his place for a party. He had to chain one of them because I swear as soon as I walked in, the dog's eyes lit up with fury. I never thought my first racist encounter would be with a dog. The other dog was chill, but he never let me pet him.

Epilogue: Piggy and I had a lot of adventures during my time in Vietnam. And like I said in the beginning, there are so many ways to remember him, but I guess I like to remember him for his racist dogs because it makes for a funny description. We don't talk often. But every time we do text, it's like we start right where we left off.

Oh, and he gave me an update on his dogs.

[coldcaseinvestigations]

Schoolgirl Murder

An unsolved murder that ended in a severe miscarriage of justice

Sharing this on behalf of Lolly true Crime World

At around 6 pm on Wednesday 7 June 1972, 14-year-old Queen Elizabeth grammar school student Judith Roberts left her home at 155 Gillway Lane, Wigginton, Tamworth. Judith took her green Raleigh bike, which had been a present from her parents two years earlier, and rode off along Main Road, then along Comberford Lane, which becomes Wiggington Lane.

Judith often rode this route after school, She would arrive home from school at around 4:30 pm, have her tea and do her homework for an hour or so before going for a ride on her bicycle. She would ride ‘round the block’, which consisted of Gillway to Wigginton Road, Comberford Lane to Comberford Road back to Gillway and home.

On June 7th 1972 Judith’s routine was pretty much the same as every school day. She arrived home at around 4.30 pm after school was over, her mother had prepared a salad and banana custard for tea, but Judith didn’t feel like eating, she had worrying things on her mind. Her period was three weeks late and with her mind full, her stomach felt the same. Judith left her salad and swallowed down the banana custard with a drink.

Her mother said that she would tell Judith’s father that she had not eaten her meal. Around 5.15 pm Vincent Robert arrived home to see that instead of eating her meal, Judith was doing homework in the living room, thoroughly engrossed.

Vincent was not happy that his daughter had missed her tea and summoned her to the kitchen, where he asked her to eat. Judith sat at the table but reportedly only nibbled half-heartedly at some lettuce, a tomato and spring onion.

Mr Roberts told his daughter off for not eating fresh food and told her to go back to complete her homework. He told her that he would expect her to eat what she had left for her supper. Judith finished her homework, put on her navy-blue anorak and went to get her bike from the shed in the back garden.

As always Judith let her pet hamster Horace out of his cage and pinned a notice on the shed door saying, ‘Horace on the floor’ and took off on her bike ride. She was still wearing her blue and white school uniform dress, her navy blue anorak with black tie-up shoes. Underneath her clothes, she wore a bra and two pairs of knickers (one under her tights, the other over).

There were witnesses to Judith leaving the house on that fateful evening and with it being summer time it was daylight so they could not have been mistaken. The next-door neighbour, Bertha Evans, at 153 Gillway recalled seeing Judith go left out of number 155 onto Gillway in the direction of Wigginton Road.

Maude Best of 134 Gillway, was out walking her dog and remembered seeing Judith close to the junction of Wigginton Road and Brown’s Lane, Judith had stopped briefly to chat with Maude before continuing her bike ride. Judith would normally make sure back by around 6.30 pm to watch ‘Cross Roads’, a TV soap opera that was very popular at the time. Sadly on the night in question, the 14-year-old did not make it home.

The pathologist report suggested that Judith came to Comberford Lane, where she had become separated from her bike for reasons that have not been established. The report indicates that at around 7 pm she was subjected to a frenzied attack, which left her dead.

A description of Judith was distributed and the police began an investigation straight away with an intensive search of the area. Police with dogs searched the town with local volunteers, a mountain rescue team, RAF airmen and military troops from Whittington Barracks.

Judith was 5ft 1 inch tall, medium build, fair skin and hair with braces on her upper teeth. Obviously, there was always the green bicycle to be considered as Judith had it with her when she left home.

An intensive search for Judith spread through the day and night of Thursday and by Friday police with dogs were looking in canals, rivers, and local barns on farmland.

On Saturday 10 June, some 300+ members of the Whittington Army barracks joined the search. The Junior Soldiers Company from Whittington Barracks were called upon to make a search of local fields. A statement made by a soldier said that at 2.30 pm that afternoon the squad began to carefully search fields from south to north on the western side of Wigginton.

The search came to a local corn field known as ‘Robinson’s Field’, not far in Comberford Lane, at about 4.30 pm. Private Barry Gibson, a soldier in the search said, “On reaching Comberford Lane we commenced searching the field on the other side of the lane. To enter this field, which had been roughly ploughed, I opened a gate and walked in first in front of L/Cpl Steele.” In the field, Private Gibson made three dreadful finds.

Soon after entering the field, the soldier found a green Raleigh bicycle thrown into a thorn hedge, the front wheel sticking out of the hedge. “I turned left and sttarted to walk up the hedge,” reported Gibson. “I had gone about seven yards when I saw about two yards in front of me a green Moulton pedal cycle lying into the hedge with the front wheel towards the gate. I shouted and was joined at once by L/Cpl Steele and others.”

The soldiers scoured the field and about a yard to the right of the cycle there was a big pile of hedge trimmings.” A soldier noticed a piece of blue-coloured material sticking out from the mound of hedge cuttings. When he lifted a piece of cloth he saw human hair covered with blood and a piece of human flesh. He had found the blue anorak that Judith had been wearing when she set out on her bike ride three days before.

The final horrifying discovery was hidden under the hedge cuttings. Three pieces of corrugated sheet, underneath which were two fertiliser bags covering Judith’s body face down. Forensic investigations revealed that she had been bludgeoned to death, her skull shattered into 18 fragments and viciously sexually assaulted. Judith had been put into a shallow grave and pushed under the hedge feet first.

Officers from Staffordshire Police arrived at the scene within minutes of receiving a call to say that soldiers had discovered a body. A Home Office Pathologist, Dr Scholtz Barendo Van-Der-Merwe, was also called to attend the scene of the crime and arrived within around two hours.

The police reported that Judith had been stripped of her clothes from the waist down with the front of her dress and anorak pulled up over her breasts. Her bra was still in place with the breasts covered.

A report from the Home Office Pathologist reads, “At approximately 6.45 pm on Saturday 10 June 1972, I visited the scene of a serious crime in a field off Comberford Lane, near Tamworth. It had been and was still raining. Present were Mr Rees Chief Constable of Staffordshire, Mr Bailey Assistant Chief Constable, Detective Chief Superintendent Wright, Detective Superintendent Jordan, Detective Constable Prince as well as two photographers and other police officers”.

“The field had been roughly ploughed but there was a fairly wide border of ground (headland) over which grass and weeds were growing, moderately short near the ploughed edge and very long at the edge which was tall and overhanging. A newish pedal cycle lay at the base of the hedge some yards inside the gate and not visible except from inside the field. Various pieces of rubbish and pieces of brick lay on the grass verge and a large pile of relatively fresh privet hedge clippings, a pile of soil and rubble lay near the cycle but separated by tall weeds from it. Some yards further along the foot of the hedge and below its overhang another pile of clippings was visible through a gap in the weeds and grass”

“This almost totally obscured the body of which only a hand was visible, and nearest the field, part of a blue anorak and a corner of white plastic material. The grass beneath the body was flattened by the weight of the body, relatively orderly in fashion, not churned about and dry to the touch. The feet were extended well into the hedge with stems of dry grass and twigs caught between some toes. The site where the body lay was relatively orderly and gave the appearance that it had been placed there fairly carefully and that it had been pushed under the hedge feet first”.

Mr Wright continued, “The body was subsequently removed to the Public Mortuary at Kettlebrook, where it was identified to me by Mr V.E. Roberts, to be that of his daughter Judith Roberts, aged 14 years. At 8.15 pm the same night I was present when Doctor Van-der-Merwe carried out a Post Mortem examination on the body and saw him remove a navy blue quilted pattern anorak…. a blue coloured patterned dress…. and a brassiere…. which appeared to be intact and in place. I saw obvious and multiple injuries to the left side of the face, temple and scalp”.

“At 3.15 pm on Tuesday 20th January 1972 with Detective Chief Superintendent Saunders and Detective Constable Prince, I again attended the Mortuary whilst Doctor Van-der-Merwe carried out an examination of the skull and brain”.

The pathologist report states that Judith was dragged by her upper right arm from the area where she was initially attacked on Comberford Lane to Robinson’s Field where she was party to a frenzied stabbing to her left temple area and masturbated over.

Professor Van-Der-Merwe concluded that the cause of death to Judith Roberts was a fractured skull, due to blows to the head with a sharp or potentially pointed object.

Sadly, despite the case being one of the most intense murder hunts in the history of the Midlands, this horrific murder still remains unsolved over 50 years on.

More than 200 police detectives worked on the investigation and took over 15,000 sets of fingerprints, carried out 11,000 door-to-door enquiries and took more than 11,000 statements.

Over 4,000 pieces of information were reviewed but in spite of all that the case still remains unsolved after almost 51 years.

The case was believed to have been solved for a number of years as a soldier who had been based at Whittington Barracks at the time of Judith’s murder, for some reason walked into a local police station, asking to see a photograph of the victim. He was interviewed over a three-day period and gave a full statement in which he confirmed his guilt.

As part of the police investigation into the murder, soldiers who were in residence at Whittington on June 7th 1972 were required to fill out a form detailing their whereabouts on that evening and provide referees to confirm their story.

Andrew Evans said that he had spent that evening in question at the barracks and gave the names of three other soldiers who could confirm this. Police failed to find one of the soldiers, and discovered the remaining two had in fact left the barracks before June 7th. Evans was questioned again in October by police at his grandma’s house.

On the morning after the interview, Andrew told his grandma that he intended to go to the police station and ask to see a picture of Judith He made that decision after having a dream in which he saw “a hazy combination of images of women’s faces” which somehow left him believing that he was the killer.

Although his grandma told him that it was not a good idea to do such a thing he still reported to Longton Police Station in a state of great distress. Evans made the request, telling them he had dreamt of Judith, saying, “I keep seeing a face. I want to see a picture of her. I wonder if I’ve done it".

Although Andrew Evans subsequently retracted his confession, a jury convicted him of murder at trial in 1973, and he was handed a life sentence.

A 1970s legal team advised Evans that he had absolutely no grounds for appeal, so he spent the next twenty years in prison before his case was brought to the attention of a British media journalist in 1994, and was taken up by the human rights group Justice when he contacted them about it.

There is a course of a belief that Judith may have been murdered by the Yorkshire ripper, Peter Sutcliffe and whilst it is possible I am not so sure.

An armchair detective, Chris Clark believes that he and his team have uncovered evidence that Judith was yet another victim of the Yorkshire Ripper.

Interestingly Chris has recently published a book, ‘Mark of a Serial Killer’ with a co-author, Tanita Mathews.

They claim to have searched national archives, studied pathology reports and read every word of the transcripts of Andrew Evans’ trial. They also claim to have spoken to Judith’s family.

They called upon the services of an independent pathologist to review the case. Chris Clark firmly believes that Judith was monster Sutcliffe’s unknown victim.

The Ripper died after contracting covid in 2020 aged 74 while a whole life sentence for the violent murders of thirteen women and the attempted murder of seven more. According to the author, Chris Clark, Judith’s murder fits with Sutcliffe’s modus operandi like a glove.

Allegedly on the evening of the teenager’s death, June 7th 1972, Sutcliffe was making a major journey to visit his then-fiancee in a hospital in Bexleyheath, London. He then returned to Bingley, West Yorkshire, where he worked nightshifts on the Baird TV company assembly plant.

So, let’s just let that sink in, Sutcliffe drove 250 miles to London, a long journey in the 70s with cars travelling at around 60mph top speed, visited his partner, drove 250 miles back, stopped off to viciously murder a 14-year-old girl, who he had no idea would be there for the taking, then drove to work. Possible? Yes. Likely? No, not in my opinion anyway.

I think that the killer was local and intentionally targeted his particular victim for a specific reason, but I am open to persuasion of course.

I will leave it there and remind you that I have so far not put my blogs behind a paywall, thus allowing you to read my articles free of charge. If you want that to continue then please be kind, dig deeply click the link and BUY ME A COFFEE or click ‘Leave a tip’ at the bottom of this article.

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Coldcaseinvestigations@proton.me

[jakestravels]

Europe 2022 - Day 19 - Munich to Hausen

I left the hostel this morning - there were only two of us in the 8-room dorm at 9 PM last night, so I thought I’d be lucky, but when I returned at 11:30 PM, I was wrong. By the way, dudes are gross, right? The two older guys (I refuse to call them gentlemen) were up at 7 talking in the loudest voices, and one kept hacking up a lung oyster every 5 minutes that he spit into the damn sink and didn’t wash down. They also pissed all over the toilet. They say our youth are the disrespectful ones, and these 50-something assholes were disgusting. Ugh.

I started to head east to the edge of town - I was meeting up with my next batch of Couchsurfers that had visited me in Portland! But first some more records. I made my way to Best Records Vinyl (big name to live up to there), but had some time to kill before they opened, so I figured I’d find a café. But not before I’d walk by a few cool museums, and see this fella just sittin’ all out in the open:

I love when museums are also art within themselves. I dig this look:

I was looking for a café, and café find I did. (Me not write güd.) Welcome to Katzentemple, and prepare for adorableness overload:

As you can likely ascertain, this is a cat café. Why someone is not calling them catfés is beyond me. Also, however, it was a vegan cafe, and while I have been dying for a doner kebab, I believe in paying for the privilege to pet kitties (let’s keep it clean here, folks). So I ordered the lunch special, known as the banh meow with salad. And here’s how it came:

I mean, I’m not a softie or anything, but fuck that’s adorable.

After, I went back to the record store, and saw a sign on the door I hadn’t seen before, and my best guess is it said they were on vacation until the 13th of October. Dammit. (Also, I’ve seen quite a few handmade signs in German now, and the writing looks like the way our great-grandparents wrote! It bizarre. BTW, did you know they don’t even teach cursive anymore in the US? Is that bonkers? It feels bonkers to me.

I headed out to Messe München, which is this new convention center development. Not gonna lie, in typical Euro fashion they had fountains and plazas and whatnot so it was nice, but I suppose slightly soulless.

Still, nice. They had a massive mall in separate building with breezeways, but the mall ran throughout via skybridges and underground. And all the things were there - food, grocery stores, department stores, etc. I was surprised to see so many folks on a Wednesday afternoon, as most folks will tell you the mall is all but dead in America.

I waited as Leonie and Julia, besties who happen to work in the same industry as well as prior fellow Couchsurfers, got out of their fancy schmancy real estate trade show thing. We hopped in Julia’s car, and it was off to her current and hometown of Hausen, population 2,000, which is located not too far outside Nuremberg (known as Nürnberg in Germany). As I have learned with German folks so far, I met some family, and then me, Leonie, Julia, and her boyfriend and mother sat down for some pizza and drinks. An early night was in the works as everyone was worn down from the week, but I’m looking forward to the coming days, and getting to check out more of Bavaria!