#Grooving Rubber Roll

[shotmrmiller]

Simon doesn't care how he comes. He doesn't care if it's your smaller hand wrapped around his fattened cock, tugging it with a gentle twist, smearing the bead of arousal that's welled up from his slit with your thumb. Doesn't care that he usually fucks his fist roughly after a hard day's work with blood still crusted on his fingernails, hard enough to ache. The way you sit beside him, the soft swell of your breasts pressed against the corded muscle of his arm, murmuring words of praise that have his cheeks alight with a rosy glow—

He doesn't care if you use your mouth (you asked, ofc) your mouth is warm around him, the gummy inside of your cheeks slippery— the constricting back of your throat even more so. He sits still, like a good boy, not bucking his hips up, not pushing your head down to take as much of him as you can.

Doesn't care if you make him fuck your thighs— intercrural, you'd called it. How could he when your soft thighs are so smooth and pliable, enveloping his leaky cock with their warmth? Certainly doesn't mind when he glides his head along your slick folds, occasionally catching your swollen clit, hearing your little sharp intakes of breath.

Simon doesn't care where he comes, either. If it's a hand job, he spurts hot, viscous pleasure onto his pudgy stomach, coating the dark trail of hair below his navel and making a mess of your hand. (If you lick his come off your fingers, he's asking you to grow old with him asap)

If it's a blow job, he'll give you a heads-up with a rumbled, "'m, close, so close—" and that's your cue to either pull away, let him paint your cheeks with his spend, or swallow every single drop. (Or let it drip onto his jeans, none of it matters just don't stop)

He'll slicken your inner thighs with his sticky cum, scoop up some of it with his callused fingers, and slather it over your puffy pussy, using it as lube to rub you to completion.

So, when you casually ask him how he feels about a breeding kink as if you were commenting on the weather, his heart threatens to burst out of his chest. Are you asking him for a kid?

But you don't notice how his pupils dilate a fraction or how the skin around his eyes tightens, the corners forming small creases as you continue. "Because I'd been thinking," a small pause, "to spice things up a little—" before he even gets a word in, you raise your hands up in a calming gesture. "Not like there's anything wrong with what we're doing now."

There's a subtle shake to your hands and the grooves of your palms catch the light. Sweaty. You're nervous. This isn't just about him filling you with his cum. He's already done that before— pressed his tip right into your swollen entrance mere moments before finishing. he lets you gather your thoughts, unsnag the words caught in your throat.

And when you finally steel your nerves and say what you want to say (garble, more like) the shrill ringing in his ears is deafening. "You wan' me to wear a rubber 'nd let you take it off." Had he misheard?

The way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, gaze lowered to the ground, your fingers twisting and turning, uncertain. So he hadn't. Well. How could he say no? Granted, he doesn't understand it, but for his girl? Anything.

He comes to understand it the very first time it happens.

Rolling on the rubber hadn't been different. nor the way he gently stretched you with one finger, two. The spit he'd used as lube to cause you as little discomfort as possible mingling with your own slick, dripping down his rugged knuckles. He takes his time as always, slipping between your spread thighs, watching your face twist, kiss-swollen lips part as he sinks into your heat. He goes slow, hearing you hiss between your teeth, your blunt nails sinking into his chest. He'll have red, angry welts later alongside his dog tags. Claimed by both duty and his little love. "Marked like property," he'd joked once.

You hadn't found it so funny. (Johnny got it though.)

Even with the very small difference in sensation, you're still the best thing he's ever felt. You take him like you're meant for him and maybe you are, but he smothers that train of thought quickly with a heavy hand lest he finish when the fun's just begun.

He feels you shift, even with his body weight that presses down on you with the gravity of a boulder, and he sinks to the root— like a pebble falling into still waters. Your nails tear skin, draw blood. The biting sting of it sends a shiver that sweeps over his goosepimpled skin, arousal tangling in his spine. He bucks his hips in reflex, hard enough to jolt you upward. The discomfort on your face quickly melts away, the sweetened burn of his thick cock prying your tender walls apart finally bleeding into white-hot pleasure.

Simon thrusts again, this time deliberately. Again. And again. He keeps them shallow, dragging the ribbed edges of the condom along your sensitive nerves, gently trying to coax a lazy orgasm out of you— the ones that always leave you syrupy and warm.

He focuses on you. Swirls your peaked nipples with his thumb, nestles his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning over your heated skin. Simon licks a hot stripe over your fluttering pulse, presses a chaste kiss on it, nips your sensitive skin with a little too much pressure when you squeeze down around him—

Cheeky minx.

He snaps his hips, hard enough to rattle your spine, hard enough to hear the way the oxygen is ripped from your lungs. Simon keeps at it, resolute in getting you to the edge, dragging you with him, taking you over.

And then he hears you slur out a couple of words through your gasps. "C'ndom," you mewl, "the condom, off."

Right. He peels himself off of you. He'd almost forgotten —

You're impatient, pushing him away with your bare feet on his chest until he pulls out with a pop, trembling fingers reaching his twitching cock. The rubber comes off after a moment and while he's distracted by the creamy slick coating it, you're already putting him back in you, and your cunt feels sublime.

Divinity. He feels intoxicated.

The pleasure he felt before feels muted now, in comparison. Dull, almost. You feel hot, almost burning— swallowing him up, wet, so wet. The way your walls flutter around him jumbles his thoughts, tangles his tongue. He grinds down onto you with grit teeth, nostrils flared as he tries to keep the searing coil in his gut from unspooling, but he fears it's a losing battle. Beads of sweat roll down the side of his face as he fucks into your tight cunt with a hunger that borders on desperation.

He can see, and hear, that it's different for you too. Your keens and mewls are loud, nails scoring trails of red down his back. Simon leans back a bit, enough to let you watch his cock split you open, strings of sticky arousal connecting between you two. When he changes angle, aiming for your (and his) favorite spot with precision, the squeal you let out stiffens his spine.

Simon needs to hear it again. He grabs you by the cheeks, forcing you to look at him with those pretty, glassy eyes that glimmer with tears. Saliva pools in his mouth at the thought of tasting salt. "Like tha'?" The delicate strands of your eyelashes are clumped together with overwhelming sensation.

When you don't answer, he gives your hood a gentle tap, striking right above your clit. "I asked you a question." He grunts when your pussy almost strangles his cock at his gravelly tone. Simon will remember that for later.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, god, just like that." As a reward, he uses his thumb to draw tight little circles over your pearl, fucking you with his full weight behind every thrust. The blissful expression on your features, spit glistening in the corner of your lips, your hand flat, fingers spread wide over your lower belly as if to feel him from the outside— it's enough to almost toss him over that crumbling edge.

But he takes more. Selfish, greedy. Takes what's his with fervor; wholly, unapologetically. "This," he pushes until he can go no more, his tip meeting a firm resistance, "is better than everythin' I've ever had." Maybe it's a stupid thing to say, right here when he's rearranging your guts around to make room for his fat cock, but he's drunk off of you.

There's no thinking clearly with the slick noises echoing in the stuffy room. There's no seeing clearly when his world has narrowed to a single point of contact.

You're squeezing around him like a vise, tight enough that his nerve endings prick with pain. But he keeps going. He takes, he gives, he yearns to watch you unfurl at the edges forever, on his fingertips, on his tongue, his cock but you—

You are both his ecstasy and ruin. He can see it in the way the corners of your pretty mouth curl upward, teasing, eyes glinting with mischief, with the same kind of trouble that ensnared him into your orbit that one lousy night.

"Come in me."

Bloody fucking trouble.

(He wants all of it. The you who'll complain about the hard surface of the kitchen table he'll bend you over. The purple marks he'll pepper on your neck, your collarbone. The you that fights tooth and nail over him eating beans on toast.)

He watches you with half-lidded eyes as his fingers and his cock toss you overboard into the tumultuous sea of euphoria and then— when you're a drooling, limp mess— only then, does he finally surrender, balls drawn up painfully tight,

and fills you to the brim, until there's no more room left in your swollen, greedy pussy. Until it spills from your hole in thick rivulets, until there's no more of him left to give.

(He doesn't do rings. It'll get the both of you killed should he ever get caught. Maybe a tattoo for him and a band for you? Gotta text Price in the morning.) <- oh what barebacking does to a simple man such as he.

this was supposed to have been a 600 word drabble hello. he's clingy and squishy and so sickeningly in his emotions.

[kayslibrary]

Simon Riley's hair obsession (Simon X black reader)

Hi guys! This break was completely unprecedented (it will probably happen again). I just checked my last post date and it was JANUARY 21ST????? I did NOT mean to step away for that long lmaoo But im back! I wanted to dabble in the Cod fandom but I’m a little intimidated idk. There are a lot of different archetypes of the characters, and im a little nervous I won’t do the characters justice or portray them correctly so please give me feedback and or/ KIND critiques if you please! 

Im gonna start my Task Force 141 saga off with Simon (whose surprised lol) and this is gonna be paired with a black afab reader so ENJOY PPL

Warnings~fluff,, Simon being a lovestruck fool

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

Simon likes your hair. No, Simon  LOVES your hair. That was one of the first things he noticed when you two first met. When you two were in the earlier stages of dating, he would just stare at your curls. “Beautiful, full curls,” he thought to himself as you would go on about your conversations. Now that you both were living under the same roof, He knows what goes into keeping your hair from frizz and tangles and how much it takes to maintain it. 

“Baby, can you pass me the edge control?” you requested from your shared bedroom, “what control?” He inquired, puzzled “The edge….the blue jar with the black lid on it” “The lid that's hard to open,” he asked as he walked in with 5 bottles and jars cradled in his arms. “Yess that one” you giggled,  pacing over to him to grab the one you were looking for. “This one” you smiled as you nab it from Simon. 

Other times Simon would sit on the bed and gaze at you in awe (homeboy is WHIPPEDD) “Yes Simon?” you groaned at the pain in your arms “Nothing baby doll, continue on” he smiled “Right…FUCK!” the rubberband that you’ve been finagling with popped “baby what's wrong?” he practically teleports to your side. “The stupid rubber band popped ugh” you fume with frustration. “It’s okay honey..here let me help” Simon offers as he puts your hair into a ponytail. “Is this good?” “This is more than good..thank you baby” you sigh with relief. 

To add to that thought, Simon is a big helper!!! Wash days once took 4 hours but now it took 2 hours thanks to the extra help. Like imagine you both in the shower getting clean and you both take turns washing each other's hair??  SO CUTE “Baby you know I can do this myself” Your eyes roll to the back of your skull with please as Simon scratches at the right places “I know but I want to help you. I enjoy it as much as you do” he snorts as the water cascades from the showerhead onto you both. 

OH YEA, you definitely caught him watching those ‘how to care for kinky hair’ videos sometimes, you find it admirable that he would take the time to educate himself apart from what you tell him. “Wanna help out more” he kisses you with devotion because let's be real HE WHORESHIPS THE GROUND YOU WALK ONNNN. 

Before you, he didn’t know the first thing about protective styles, different hair products for your hair, how to wrap it at night but now that hes with you, he understands and for you guys anniversary he surprised you with a heap of gifts BUT ALSO surprised you by braiding your hair for you. Who needs a hair salon when you have one built into your partner (huge money saver LMAOO) 

In conclusion, I think Simon Riley would be OBSESSED with your hair whether it be in braids, out and about, or straight. “You look good in everything, hell you could be bald. I’d still love you the same” he’d grin.

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

Author note- i love this? Hello? 10/10 crumbs and the table are GONE. i love simon but i am a rudy girl what can i say IMMA WRITE FOR HIM NEXT WATCHHHH but yea its good for me to get back into my groove. Glad to be back pookies be safe wherever you are!! Bye now!!

[mooncalfed]

whimper (i)

insomniac Simon Riley learns to exist in the dark

[ fem!reader - inexperienced!reader - slow burn]

He rings in the second night of leave the same way he has for eight years now - a sharp inhale, eyes flying open, heart racing, a moment of weightlessness before crushing anxiety.

On the pillow to his right are a pair of folded sweatpants and hoodie. They lay largely undisturbed because they belong to a man that has learned to lie still.

He sits up, puts on the hoodie and slips on the sweatpants before sliding his phone and keys from his bedside table into the pocket of his sweats. He vaguely notes that there is a hole in his pocket but also remembers that he has noticed this eleven times and has yet to do anything about it.

A roll of the shoulders, a quick, snatched yawn, and he is walking quietly to his front door.

He grabs his mask, a simple black surgical one for the witching hour, and slides a beanie over his head.

He slips out of his apartment without so much as a shuffle and takes quick stock of the corridor. Empty, cool, silent. Same every night, but vigilance pays dividends for someone like him. The locks on his apartment click into place and he shoves his hand in his pockets before melting into the night.

It takes four hundred and twenty-seven steps for him to arrive at his destination.

It’s a small coffee shop slash bar that opened a while back. Between his deployment to Bosnia and Peru, if he remembers correctly. It’s tiny and open at all hours for some inane reason, but he is thankful for the routine respite it offers.

There is no one on the street as he nears the shop. As he walks in he notes that there is no one in the shop, either. It isn’t out of the ordinary, but he briefly wonders about the financial viability of a place like this before he realises he doesn’t give a fuck.

He marches straight to the corner booth that gives him a perfect view of the entire store. Back to the wall, entrance at eleven o’clock with the kitchen doors at two o’clock. The owner hasn’t come out from the kitchen yet but that’s okay, because there’s a routine that needs to be followed and he is a few minutes early.

The clock above the drip coffee machine reads 3:07 and with each minute that passes he finds himself winding tighter, stomach clenched and fingers curled into fists in his pockets. He runs his thumb along the length of his apartment key, feeling the cool metallic teeth warm up as his flesh presses harder and harder against its grooves.

He counts his breaths, two beats in and five beats out. In through the nose and out through the mouth.

He’s at breath twenty-five when you walk in.

Huffing from the cold, you stumble in far less gracefully than you usually do. He notes your gloved hands and thick coat and it occurs to him that it is rather cold outside. He has a difficult time noticing these things anymore, rarely cares.

He sees your bag on your shoulder and a clump of your hair trapped under its strap and wonders whether you will bother pulling it out before you set down your bag, or whether you will slump into a chair and just wince when your hair is caught by the material. He’s seen you do the latter far more often.

You rustle for something in your pocket and he watches with a pulse of amusement as you pull out a rubber, your phone, and a hair tie all in the same gesture. Those items are placed on the table you always choose - the left side of the shop, directly opposite the coffee machine, back to the window, two tables away from the entrance and two tables diagonally away from him.

It bothers him that your back is to the window. It disturbs him deeply that it doesn’t seem to phase you, that you put yourself in such a vulnerable position and seem to actually like that.

You pull out the chair and your bag slumps to the ground. He flicks his eyes up just in time to see you grimace when your hair is snagged by your bag. He smirks.

The next bit, he knows by heart.

First comes your drawing pad. Then, your two notebooks, one blue and soft-bound, the other black and hard-covered. Then comes your wooden case of oil pastels, which is placed underneath and followed by a smaller green box of pencils. You rearrange your phone so that it is on your right, and then flip it so the screen faces down. The rubber is set on top of that, and then your hair is tied up into a loose but high ponytail.

You take a deep breath, and he finds himself mirroring you. 

Fists clenched, stomach tense, jaw trembling.

You look up and smile.

“Hello Simon.”

He breathes out.

[ceruleanmusings]

Big Time Girlfriends - Carlos & Sammi

this isn't one of my favorite episodes but it does have my fav btr song in it! (boyfriend is one of their best, i will die on that hill!) but carlos' plotline always bothered me (james' and logan's plot really bothered me as well but that's another rant post for a different day) so this is what i came up with to make it a little better. enjoy! @witchofinterest @myloveforhergoeson @raging-violets @partiallypearl

------

Red, gold, and white lights spun and flashed from nearby attractions, begging passersby to take their shot at winning the large, stuffed prizes hanging off stalls. Beneath the inky black sky wafts of thick, heavy fried-scented air hovered over the milling crowds, luring in kids begging for treats to hold in their sticky hands. Excited shrieks and screams punched through the mechanical whooshes and grinding from nearby thrill rides and attractions, but Sammi blocked all the background noise out. Her eyes remained focused on the basketball hoop in front of her, the tip of her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.

She eased out a breath, her fingers gripping the small rubber ball. The bumps and grooves pressed into the pads of her fingers; her pulse jumped faintly in her fingertip. You got this; you can do it! Pulling her tongue back into her mouth, her mouth formed a line, her muscles tensed, and she shot the basketball out of her hands with a little hop. It arced through the air…and bounced off the rim.

“Aw, man!” she groaned, her nose wrinkling and her arms falling to the side.

“Close but no cigar,” the stall attendant said, his mustached mouth stretching into a Cheshire cat grin. Sammi’s lip curled in as she suppressed the urge to rip his sharpie-marker mustache off his face. Really, did he have to say it every time she missed the shot? Twenty times was twenty times too much. And that mustache was so outdated! “Come on, try again. I’m sure you’ll get it this time.” He tossed the ball to her. She caught it and tossed it back, shaking her head.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Besides, she already dropped thirty-five dollars on the dumb game. She couldn’t justify spending any more, no matter how much she wanted that giant stuffed bunny.

“Just try one more. I hate to see pretty girls walk away empty handed.” He flashed a smile, popping the ball atop his finger. With a push, he spun it along the tip. The colors flashed by in a bright smear against the golden tint of the booth’s bulb lights. “Waddya say?” She wanted to say where he could shove that basketball, and it wasn’t going to be through a netted hoop.

Instead she drew herself up, lifted her chin, and held his gaze. "I hate to see desperate guys." He blinked and she lifted her eyebrows, waiting for his one-track mind to switch gears and catch up. She'd said all she needed to say. When it finally did, she smirked as he jerked upright, fumbling the ball in his hands. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she turned and sauntered off, pausing to add, "By the way, get used to pretty girls walking away from you! That's the only direction they'll be heading!"

Man, did that feel good. Nothing quite beat the exhilaration and satisfaction of putting guys like that in their place. Honestly. She was pretty, she knew that, she made sure others knew that, but that didn't mean she could fold and roll over just because someone else acknowledged it. Where was the effort in men nowadays? Not that she'd give in a chance otherwise, she was already happily taken.

Carlos, however, looked as if his happiness had been taken away from him, judging by the long look on his face anyway. It was a stark one-eighty from the cloud he'd seemed to be riding on for the past couple days. Hands on her popped hips, Sammi glanced around. Where was that Sasha girl anyway? The two were glued at the hip in the van ride over to the fair. It was almost disgusting how much they giggled and batted their eyes at one another. Where was they mystery? Where was the chase? Where was the effort?

"Okay, what's wrong?" Sammi peered down at Carlos from the other side of the picnic table he slouched over. Two corndogs sat in his hands.

"Me and Sasha broke up," he said.

"Sasha and I," Sammi automatically corrected. She couldn't help it. The world would be better if people were on point at all times. Speech couldn't slip through the cracks; annunciation and word choice went a long way when it came to molding people's perception.

Carlos looked up at her, eyebrows furrowing. "You were dating her too?"

Sammi brought her hand up to the side of her head. This boy. Easing a sigh, she carefully sat on the other bench, scooping her skirt beneath her thighs and crossed one leg over the other. The bright lights nearby illuminated her heels as if she were bathed in a spotlight. She grinned. She knew she picked the right shoes; her sisters didn't know what they were talking about when they tried to talk her out of them. She was a 10 at all times, from her head to her feet. Literally. She couldn't afford anything else.

"Why did you break up?" Sammi asked.

"She doesn't like corndogs. Actually, she hates corndogs."

"....So?"

"I love corndogs. We wouldn't work."

Sammi snorted. "Is that the only reason?"

This made Carlos sit up straight, eyes blazing. "Is a big reason!" She hummed. Why couldn't he apply that energy to his dance rehearsals? Or anything not gross?

"So any girl you want to be with has to like corndogs? No matter what?"

"I can't just give them up!" He took a hearty bite out of one as if to prove her point. Her nose wrinkled at his following sigh, showing a glob of chewed hot dog and cornmeal mush. Plucking a napkin out a canister with two fingers, she held it out to him. The least he could do was cover his mouth.

"Why would you have to?" she asked calmly.

"I mean...isn't that the point? To have a girlfriend that likes what I like?"

"The point of a girlfriend is to have someone you like around and to spend time with." Well, there was more to it than that but he was just dipping his toes into the dating water. He'd splash and flail too much if he dove in headfirst. "They don't need to like everything you like." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Jo doesn't like hockey but Kendall's still into her. In fact, I remember all of you clamoring over each other like idiots when Jo moved into the Palm Woods. Would you have dumped her if she chose you because of that?"

Carlos blinked. "I guess."

"Wow," Sammi said following a scoff. "Rude much?"

"I mean...wouldn't it be easier if we liked the same thing?"

"Maybe. But then you wouldn't have anything to talk about. Too much of the same is boring." Carlos made a noise. "Take it from me. My boyfriend's a farmhand. Literally. His family works on a cattle farm, provides meat and produce and stuff. He's very into agriculture and the environment. I'm...not so into it." The mud, the sweat, the smell, the mud? Not her idea of a good time, thank you very much. "But Jay? He puts his heart and soul into it. And he has so much passion for it. He wants to make the world better, more sustainable. I don't get it but I get that it's him and I like him. Warts and all." She paused. Did he have warts? Her mind reeled back, remembering all the expanses of his skin she'd been able to touch. His nice, tanned, strong, smooth skin... She frowned, whipped out her phone, and quickly sent a text. If he had any blemishes she needed him to take care of it right away. "My point is, differences are okay. It makes things fun."

"Yeah but..."

"But what?"

"They make it all look...so easy." He motioned with the bite-size of his corndog to the others nearby. Kendall trying to win Jo a stuffed animal from a skeeball game, Camille dragging Logan by the hand towards some dance game, and James.... Sammi blinked, leaning forward. Why was James carrying a plant? But then she pushed the thought away. She didn't want to touch that one. "They've had girlfriends. Or at least girls interested in them. Especially James. I just don't get it. It's like they know some...some secret code or something."

Sammi's head tipped back as she laughed, good and hard. "Carlos, c'mon, the rest of them aren't that perfect! Kendall's clearly got jealousy issues; honestly, I don't get how Jo's just fine with that but whatever." She waved her hand, batting them away. "And James kissed Logan's girlfriend so he's not winning points there. And Logan's kinda possessive. They don't know what they're doin' either and from my point of view, you're the one comin' out great."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you runnin' around the Palm Woods with that girl"—she didn't earn the right to be called her name anymore—"she may have been set up by Uncle Gustavo—which I will have a conversation with him about—but you were very sweet and kind and were willing to make a lot of compromises for her happiness. Any girl who actually ends up your girlfriend would be very lucky. Don't sell yourself short."

"Really?" His dark puppy dog eyes almost made her coo at him.

"Yeah." Her shoulders bounced in a light shrug. When he wasn't being so...uncouth, he had some good qualities the right person would appreciate. That Girl certainly wasn't one of them if she could willingly go along with Uncle Gustavo's stupid boy-brained plan.

"Thanks. You know, your boyfriends very lucky."

"I know," she said with a smirk. Then her eyes dropped to the uneaten corndog in his other hand and she took it from him, teeth sinking into the cornmeal in a satisfying bite. "What?" she asked when he gaped at her. "I love corndogs." Holding her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed, she continued, "You should try the korean kind though. Some have cheese in them and some have cereal coating. They're super good. "

He snapped his jaw shut and twisted the stick of his corndog around in his fingers. "Do you...um...I mean, if you weren't dating him...do you think we...would you have—?"

Reaching across the table, Sammi patted his hand. "You wouldn't be able to handle me, Carlos," she said.

He grinned. "Yeah, maybe not."

[mondoradiowmse]

07/10/24 Mondo Radio Playlist

Here's the playlist for this week's edition of Mondo Radio, which you can download or stream here. This episode: "The Match That Lights the Fire", featuring classic funk and more. If you dig it, don't forget to also follow the show on Facebook and Twitter!

Artist - Song - Album

James Brown - Make It Funky (Part 1) - The Singles, Vol. 7: 1970-1972

James Brown - Super Bad (Part 1 & Part 2) (Promo Version) - The Singles, Vol. 7: 1970-1972

Norma Jean & Ray J. - Right Time-Wrong Place - Raising Hell

Norma Jean & Ray J. - Raising Hell - Raising Hell

Black Heat - The Jungle - Black Heat

Black Heat - Wanaoh - Black Heat

The Beginning Of The End - Funky Nassau (Part II) - What It Is!: Funky Soul And Rare Grooves 1967-1977

United 8 - Getting Uptown (To Get Down) - What It Is!: Funky Soul And Rare Grooves 1967-1977

The Politicians Feat. McKinley Jackson - The World We Live In - Psycha-Soula-Funkadelic: The Hot Wax Sessions

The Politicians Feat. McKinley Jackson - Everything Good Is Bad - Psycha-Soula-Funkadelic: The Hot Wax Sessions

The Sons Of Truth - Son Of The Deacon - A Message From The Ghetto

5 Spiritual Tones - Bad Situation - Good God!: A Gospel Funk Hymnal

Gospel Comforters - Yes God Is Real - Good God!: Born Again Funk

Manitas De Plata - Twist Flamenco - Ole!

Ann Peebles - 99 Pounds - Straight From The Heart

Satisfaction Unlimited - Somebody Else's Woman - Think Of The Children

George McCrae - I Get Lifted - In Yo' Face!: The History Of Funk, Vol. 3

Sly And The Family Stone - In Time - Fresh

Sly And The Family Stone - Thankful N' Thoughtful - Fresh

Aaron Neville - Hercules - Mojo Presents: Heavy Soul

Curtis Mayfield - Freddie's Dead - Mojo Presents: Heavy Soul

L.T.G. Exchange - Money Mad - Susie Heartbreaker (Ghetto Child)

The Meters - People Say - The Very Best Of The Meters

Earth, Wind & Fire - Shining Star - The Best Of Earth, Wind & Fire, Vol. 1

The Isley Brothers - The Heat Is On (Part 1 & 2) - The Heat Is On

The Isley Brothers - Hope You Feel Better Love (Part 1 & 2) - The Heat Is On

Earth, Wind & Fire - Getaway - The Best Of Earth, Wind & Fire, Vol. 1

Parliament - Mothership Connection (Star Child) - Mothership Connection

Funkadelic - Cholly (Funk Getting Ready To Roll!) - One Nation Under A Groove

Bootsy's Rubber Band - The Pinocchio Theory - Ahh … The Name Is Bootsy, Baby!

Bernie Worrell - Insurance Man For The Funk - In Yo' Face!: The History Of Funk, Vol. 5

Betty Davis - Is It Love Or Desire - Is It Love Or Desire

Betty Davis - Bottom Of The Barrel - Is It Love Or Desire

[captainderyn]

[ CHIN ]:          as they stand close to one another, the sender hooks a finger and tenderly lifts the receiver’s chin, tilting it up so that they can look at one another, and running a thumb across their skin lightly.

Oof totally didn't mean to have this sitting in my ask box for so long but, I'm finally feeling back into the groove enough to write! For Emeldir and Risha no less :) (EDIT TO ADD: That note was from months ago lol. 6/24/2023 Deryn says: Sorry this took so damn long, enjoy these two being idiots!)

Set sometime in the grey area of their relationship, when Risha isn't ready to admit she has feelings, and Emeldir is feeling so many things way to much all at once.

(Important to note, Em's flirting is nothing like in-game)

--

If Emeldir kept stuffing his foot in his mouth whenever he talked to Risha he was never going to get the taste of rubber out of it.

He didn't know where he kept going wrong. She was mad about his optimism, mad about how he flew his ship, mad at his idealistic need to help those who were struggling and to top it off downright angry at every offer he made to help her.

Frankly, Risha seemed irritated at his very existence.

It should have turned him away, sent him running into the arms of someone else.

It didn't. Not even close.

There was nothing thrill-of-the-game in the way his want for her gnawed at his mind.

She wasn't some challenge to be conquered, some wild spirit to be tamed.

It was as simple as an insistent tug, pulling him towards her, like they were meant to walk on the same path. It was inexplicable, confusing, and something he continually side stepped.

He doubted he could voice any of this without sending her running for the hills. He wouldn't voice any of this, wouldn't dare, when he was certain that she hated his guts.

So he kept his roiling, confusing emotions to himself. Tucked them away for later, tried and failed to focus his attention elsewhere.

Even if time and missions spent together seemed to ease Risha's iciness towards him, he didn't know that it would ever melt.

When they found themselves alone in the airlock, shrugging off their jackets that smelled of sweat and smoke, he wasn't sure exactly what he was in for. Her expression was unreadable, her silence hanging thick in the air as she tugged her rifle over her head and leaned it against the wall.

He looked to the side as she moved to stand in front of him, unable to meet the look on her face. They were so close that if one of them so much as shifted their bodies would brush together. He could feel the rustle of her duster jacket fluttering against him with the air from the vents.

"You need a haircut." Her words were...

"What?" Emeldir blinked, brain short circuiting entirely as her slender fingers were suddenly in his hair, giving it a ruffle.

The eye roll she must have given was apparent in her voice, "Your hair. It's a mess."

Sure, it'd grown out a bit, floppy and tousled and rather untamed since the last time they'd been able to stop off somewhere to find a decent barber. He'd hardly call it a mess, he still maintained it diligently as ever and--

And her hand slid town his face, halting at his jaw. Her fingers brushed lightly across the bit of scruff that had grown in, barely more than a shadow. He let the pressure of her hand tilt his head this way, then that, too stunned to do anything else.

He was pretty sure his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Or his face was going to melt away for how hot his skin was burning.

"Trying to look the part?"

Her well meaning jabs and her ill intentioned jabs were so difficult to tell apart that it took him a moment to grasp the humor in her voice.

He dared a glance up at her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Think I'm going to bite? Cat got your tongue, captain?"

Emeldir opened his mouth, struggling to both find his voice and get enough parts of his brain to fire to form words. "I..."

What did she want from him, exactly? If he said all the things on his mind she'd certainly climb right back over any of the walls she'd let down.

But the way she was looking at him, stars, he still wasn't thinking when he said, "I want to kiss you."

The perfectly maintained crescents of Risha's nails raked across his skin as she went to jerk away, only to freeze before she actually did. Her eyes widened, a storm brewing in them, and it was then that Emeldir processed what he'd said.

"I'm so sorry," he fumbled, making to step backwards only for his heel to hit the wall, "That was not meant to leave my mouth. I'm not saying that you have to...wait no that sounds bad. Scratch that I'm--"

His cheeks burned, he wanted to throw himself out the airlock. Plunge into the engines. Crawl under his bed and die. All of the above.

Risha smushed a finger against his lips, "Stop talking."

She narrowed her eyes at him, eyes sliding from his down to his lips. Her finger caressed across them lightly, sending goosebumps popping up across his skin.

This was it. This was the end for him.

"You don't have to." he stammered out again, against her demand, painfully aware of the multitude of reasons what he said was absolutely stupid, the least of which being the fact that, "I know you hate me."

His fingers grazed down his chin, light as a feather before seizing tight. He was almost certain was going to pass out when he felt her breath brush against his lips, hers a hairsbreadth away,

"Captain," There was a warning to her voice that killed any protest building in his chest again. Then she tilted her head, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

Absurdly, he realized the sweat and heat had smudged some of her mascara onto her upper and lower lids.

"What if I want to?"

Her words barely registered in his frazzled mind, his reply even less so, "Then do it."

All logical thought zipped from his mind as she pressed up onto her toes, slanting her mouth against his. His back hit the wall of the airlock as he steadied himself, hands uselessly fluttering at his sides.

It was everything, it was confusing, it was heat zipping across his skin as his nerves alit and it his mind going entirely blank.

Risha's lips were soft, the gloss she wore everyday sweet.

The kiss was brief, too brief, and in a daze he leaned after her before reality snapped back into place and his eyes shot open.

Risha had already retreated, seizing up her rifle. He didn't miss the flush staining her cheeks a brilliant red.

She cleared her throat, eyes darting him up and down before away,

"Get a haircut next time we're on planet. And buy a razor to shave."

Those were her parting words as she exited the airlock, leaving Emeldir dumbfounded and clueless as ever.

What in the blighted stars was he going to do?

[gerogerigaogaigar]

David Bowie - The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars

This was the dawning of a new age of glam rock. It's spacey like much of the glam scene, but it brought a rock n roll edge that would go on to be a major influence in the development of punk. Ziggy Stardust is supposedly a concept album about a bisexual alien rock star sent to earth to avert an energy crisis, but let's be real that concept only exists in like four songs on the album and even then only loosely. No this is really just an album about creating a moody and weird rock and roll drama filled with jangly guitars, dissonant chords, and a weird sense of desperation that is hard to put my finger on.

Talking Heads - Remain In Light

Remain In Light is a complex labyrinth of looping polyrhythmic grooves equally inspired by punk and new wave as it was from Fela Kuti. This is the album that truly brings the strengths of every member of the band to the forefront. Chris Frantz's funk/punk hybrid drumming is challenged to incorporate complex rhythmic elements from African drumming. Tina Weymouth's looping bass lines wind up holding the entire album together. Jerry Harrison on keys and guitar wind up filling in all the empty spaces in the soundscape. And singer David Byrne delivers cryptic stream of consciousness lyrics. Remain In Light, like their last couple albums, was produced by Brian Eno, and Eno's touch is definitely felt. The production is tight, but well textured. Odd noises are brought further into the foreground and vocals are allowed to sit further back than most bands would allow. Remain In Light is a must listen album.

Bob Dylan - Blonde On Blonde

It must be said, Rainy Day Women #12 & 35 is a bad and stupid song. Yes I 'get it' haha see he says stoned like weed but he means like biblically 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Oh it's so fucking clever kill me. The second that song is over this instantly becomes one of the best Dylan albums by a huge margin. The stretch of songs from Visions Of Johanna to Most Likely You'll Go Your Way (And I'll Go Mine) is an amazing run of 10/10 songs. And the closer, Sad Eyed Lady Of The Lowlands is probably my second favorite Dylan closer after Desolation Row. The tightrope act of balancing the folk and rock sides of his style is performed incredibly.

Dr. Dre - The Chronic

The Chrinic is not a Dre solo album, it's a sampler of all the talent he has collected for his new record label. In fact Snoop probably shares as many verses as Dre does on here. It's an incredibly confident move and all the original Death Row inmates are here. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Lady Of Rage, Warren G, RBX, Kurupt, Nate Dogg, it's an incredible cast. And it's all topped off with new and innovative production that utilizes fewer samples, but deploys then with precision. The gratuitous Parliament-Funkadelic sampling would become standard for hip hop going forward, with The Chronic G-Funk was officially established.

Michael Jackson - Off The Wall

This was Michael Jackson's fifth album, but it really was his debut as an adult musician. The cutesy baby faced member of the Jackson Five was now a certified pop star who could compete on his own merits. The disco hits Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough and Rock With Me as well as the ballad She's Out Of My Life lay the groundwork for Jackson's most fertile creative period. Other than that the album is quite good but does pale in comparison to his 80s output.

The Beatles - Rubber Soul

This was the first Beatles album where it felt like they actually wanted to be taken seriously as artists. Rubber Soul leans into a more folk rock sound that strongly distinguishes this album from its rock and roll predecessors. The expanded instrumentation, including their first use of sitar on Norwegian Wood, is a welcome inclusion. The fab four have fully embraced fuzzy guitars. Also of note is the very surreal attitude towards women on here. Like what the fuck is going on in Norwegian Wood and Run For Your Life? Rock music isn't kind to women, but this is just some psycho shit. I love it.

Stevie Wonder - Innervisions

Innervisions is the real start to a more introspective, witty, and socially conscious Stevie Wonder. There are no more sappy love songs and instead politically minded songs like Living For The City or spiritually hopeful songs like Higher Ground are the bread and butter of this record. What Innervisions does do is take the synth bass that was used on Talking Book and ramp it's usage up. The Moog bass gets more usage as the the clarinet and electric piano. Wonder's energy is extremely infectious, it's no surprise that Innervisions spawned four massive hits that all still see play on classic rock radio.

Amy Winehouse - Back To Black

It is very clear that Amy Winehouse could have gone all the way for period accurate recreation of early 60s Doo wop and girl groups had she wanted to. Thankfully she was better than that. The way she blends those classic styles with their modern equivalents beautifully illuminates the evolutionary path of soul and R&B music. Winehouse is backed up by the legendary Dap-Kings which adds to the authentic retro feel, but the lyricism absolutely trends more towards a modern style (I don't think Rehab would have flown in the early 60s). All in all Back To Black is a shockingly unique yet recognizable album that can only be the result of a unique musical vision.

Beyoncé - Lemonade

This album made a huge splash when it came out. It was dropped without any warning and overnight white girls were writing think pieces about the state of black America. The album's main topic is how her husband Jay-Z had been cheating on her, but she takes the simple theme os heartbreak and betrayal and evaluates it through the lens of how the legacy of American slavery has had ripple effects on black masculinity, femininity and relationships. I'll stop there lest this becomes another white girl think piece about Lemonade. Underneath the themes and stuff is one of Beyoncé's most dynamic albums. It is not at all contained to just R&B and delves into rock frequently and Daddy Lessons is straight up a country rock song. I'm not even close to the first person to sing the praises of this album but you're gonna have to hear it again because Lemonade is perfect.

Miles Davis - Kind Of Blue

In many ways Kind Of Blue resembles other post bop albums. But under the surface something incredibly innovative is happening. You see rather than a chord progression to set the key and then a bunch of solos there is... Wait do you guys know about musical modes? Oh. Uh. This is gonna be hard to explain then. Just trust me that the underlying structure of these songs provides the performers with much more tonal freedom than in other forms of jazz without losing the sense of harmonic center. If you are intrigued Google modal jazz at your own risk. Now the performers themselves are some of the best of the best. Miles himself on trumpet, Cannonball Adderley and John Coltrane on alto and tenor sax respectively, Bill Evans on piano, Paul Chambers on bass, and Jimmy Cobb on drums. Each one of these performers is a legend, each one likely to be the biggest name in any other band. And they explore the freedom that the moral form allows them to craft some of the finest solos in the history of jazz. And it's kinda catchy too. I already have the refrain from So What stuck in my head. Somehow one of the most experimental albums also became one of the best selling jazz albums of all time.

[blankdblank]

The White Dove Pt 36 - Lizards and Letters

Had the thought to edit the next chapter and maybe post it early, if you're eager for more and don't want to wait a week for it let me know and I'll get it up sooner. :)

… Masterlist …

@jesevans @theincaprincess @lilith15000 @devilishminx328​ @jiminapickle​

***

“Now let’s lock you in place,” you muttered to the first partial scale to meet up with the broken remnant on the lowest left corner of the bite. Hooks on the back would latch onto the supporting beam you added. Into the slot the hooks eased and around the top of the scale you used a rubber mallet to bump it lower to not be able to wiggle free. Flush against the damaged half with a gentle whine of metal on metal to get it there it came to rest like the other twelve broken scales.

To the addition of your welder’s visor you heard the latest on the radio of a passing car, so called ‘Hero Registry’ was to be voted on as this in the latest act of the Avengers had damaged the city and endangered lives. Having only compounded the damage the green menace had committed, proven by the five other sightings where he did little to no damage at all besides using some knockout gas. Vigilante’s however were not up for discussion as of yet as compared to the Avengers targeted smaller scale criminals and kept to lesser populated areas to not bring innocents into the mix while promptly showing them out of the area once found upon their path.

“Unmitigated disaster,” you thought to yourself in the ignition of the torch. To seal the seam within the scales added, and then around the edges of them you hoped to ensure the seams were water tight. Bottom to top you welded the broken scales then in the lowest level you took the flat beam with raised grooves on it. To hold it one handed and weld it across the entire gap by means of a rolling stool that allowed you to remain level in the process.

Scans of the rest of the outer wall showed how the scaled met the flat panels across the very base, and like a shiny new penny with just that added you couldn’t help but smile at how it looked as far as restoration ease would come after this. Scale number one was lifted as the torch was set down on the ground to be the first scale to rest beside the one you just welded to lock into place.

One layer was done before you knew it, and then you lifted off the seat to stand and leap up to pull yourself onto the deck so you could wiggle down the side of the mast to get into the lower level. Bee behind you the path to the gap was traced to watch you with a pocket flashlight you brought to inspect the backside of that row of scales. “Not that bad,” you muttered in a slide on your side to look at the next section over to see little spots to weld.

Back up to the mast slot you pulled yourself back onto the deck to cross it and get back to the chair. Off that you stepped to grab the visor and torch to seal around the seams, which would lead to another trip inside to double check the seams and back out again to start on the next row up. Slightly more to the left to fill in a gap of a scale torn free you began and bit the inside of your lip at the same whine of metal on metal to fit the base within the row you had just finished.

Through the space between two beams Eddie’s head came into view with Venom poking out from beside his face, “Red and Blue has a youtube page now. Calling himself Spiderman. Stopped an suv from hitting a bus and caught a pick pocket.”

“Hmm,” you said making him chuckle as you eyed the next portion of the row you were on covering half of the bite hole. “Must be the one who followed Misique’s page.”

“Looks seamless here, Sis. Need some arms for the next few rows?”

“That would help, ya, could get the gap done by supper.”

.

 “Now that’s a hell of a costume.” The words turned the owl themed statuesque figure with a mask and cape that hung dramatically around their intricate feather accentuated layers that came into view a moment in their turn to see you hop off a light pole from the roof you were in wait on. Two days ago you had heard from Luke Cage about this odd owl guy your Seal guy was spouting off about but hadn’t seen what they were up to aside from hovering around the proximity of a smaller branch of a bank. “Normally people just phone it in, I really don’t even know how you want to fight in that, the hours it must have taken.” Compliments one after another had the newly named Spiderman curiously perched in his place he’d been hiding having spotted Misique back in town to see what you were up to.

Almost an hour later talks moved to a park nearby. After a stop at a food stand, the evidently far from willing to harm people new ominous figure going by WhoMan sat with you just spilling all their desires to make it in the plushie business that their father who ran that small bank said would make them a failure in his eyes. “Then make plushies.” You said and they scoffed, “What do you want to make plushies of?”

And they grew quiet a few moments then on their unseen smart watch when they folded their sleeve back pulled up images of small made plushies of bees and various colored versions of Venom with various hats making you smile. “Those are adorable.”

“I cannot survive on dreams alone.”

“I have 700k followers on my youtube page,” you said making them look to you from their mournful look at the images. “You make a supply and a page on etsy and I’ll make a small ad in one of my videos and add a link. I have a friend with near a million followers on instagram and I’ll have them link it too with some pictures.”

“You would do that?” They asked in shock making Spiderman hiding in a tree inch up a bit more in shock at what you were up to.

“Do you know how many stress hulk toys they have for sale in gas stations? Or even Hawkeye Nerf archery toys? I can talk to the other Vigilantes and see if they’ll be up to giving you more muses. If anything you can use the costume as a marketing ploy if you make the page owl themed. Might have to dig out a series of contracts to settle image percentages but they should agree.”

“Thank you,” they said in shock and an email was traded to further talks as the pair of you split up. Alone along a back path through the park you strolled saying to one of the trees you passed, “Good to see you are keeping off the western alleys tonight, Spiderman.”

Anxiously out of the tree he dropped and looked around to hurry to your side asking, “You um, why’d you do that? I mean, I didn’t expect you to just talk to the person.”

“They haven’t hurt anyone. Luke Cage said they merely prowled around that bank weirding him and his family out. I hurt people who hurt people. Not a danger to dream about making plushies. Having daddy issues doesn’t mean you have earned a death sentence.”

He nodded and asked, “Up to anything cool tonight I can help with?”

“Heard some of Kingpin’s thugs are troubling people on the bridges again.”

“That sounds awesome!” he whispered to himself and readied as you did to rush to meet the bus you’d both ride on top of the roof to get to the other side of town where Venom descended to help out his baby sister and a fellow web slinger. One that gave vague flash backs to when you had first showed up, this was another kid out on the prowl with powers to prove useful, though this time with less of a sordid back story.

An alarm afterwards had the teen bouncing on his toes for the call of a clown crew who had been bothering people since a seedy circus had been rolling through town far out of season to be up to any good.

.

 “Pluto! There you are! I’m so thrilled you could make it!” Dr Connors paused a moment asking, “I didn’t wake you too early?”

“Oh I was up, some shelves were misbehaving at the candle shop and apparently I am the only one capable of engineering a new set of shelves,” you answered with a grin reaching up to fix your lopsided ponytail following his waving arm to usher you in deeper through his lab.

Cellular regeneration. Amongst many uses would include enhanced healing and even the coveted gem of regrowing limbs. Something you knew the one armed man to covet the dream of achieving one day to have his second hand back. For all his excitement and vigor in launching this new compound into study within the notes you could see there were major flaws in just the simple skim of a few seconds he allowed you in hasty flips of pages.

No account to which gene being triggered or how the lizard DNA would bond to it. There was no symbiosis involved, merely genetic level mutation. Something new entirely. While your parents’ work centered on waking what the human code already had this would kick start it by allowing a predatory gene pool into a new host body surely doomed to only lure on a new take on Frankenstein’s Monster.

But he was happy, and plotting to keep Norman Osborn happy in his latest ever growing urge for more genetic adaptations to have available within the labs. Ones he could try on himself if he dared like he’d dosed himself three times with the Goblin serum to heal from wounds Clint had given him on his stealthier to the public requested shadow of the green menace they wondered why Misique was allowing him to remain loose.

Talk of injury was a possibility that had her out of commission after their first encounter, though sight of the newly named to the public Spiderman The Lizard was evidently her goal. More than one person had encountered this new giant amphibian who seemed enraged in the mere presence of humans. And with the big turkey day parade everyone was eager to have the menace under wraps to enjoy the day of celebration.

.

“Okay we got two hours before I’m supposed to be in bed to get four hours before the parade,” you said. Hanging onto the back of Venom’s neck while he swung building to building to follow the latest trace of the giant now apparently bent by the notes you had found on spreading this cure to the human overpopulation problem within this bustling city.

Wrapped in broken webbing the very public tussle in a car locked intersection ended with you dragging The Lizard back down into the manhole he had burst from to escape from you. Screams and muffled body slams into walls and streams of flowing liquid below had bodies climb out of their cars to lose all sense of reason or time to see who would win this battle of wills. “Okay, I got the stuff you wanted!” Spiderman said trotting up to the manhole he leapt right into and was heard exclaiming, “Hey!” a body slamming into stone had people flinch then smirk in wonder at his shouting, “Not cool man!”

“I have his torso, Sister!” Venom was heard exclaiming to roars and loud struggles of the fight below had the cops on guard around the intersection holding bodies back until a sudden flash of glittering yellow glowed out through the manhole and sewer openings nearby then one last loud roar cut short had silence overtake the crowd to a moment of worry.

“What do we do?” Spiderman was heard whispering far too loudly then sloppily out of the manhole The Lizard rose shoulders first stirring gasps from the crowd until at once his body flung up to collapse heavily onto the road exposing his broken neck and jaw. Both that rolled and bent in unsettling ways as Spiderman finished climbing up out the manhole to hoist the body up he hurried to carry over to the side of a cop car.

Face to face with Captain Stacy he cleared his throat to say deeper than his natural voice went, “SHIELD’s gonna want that. Um, Misique’s tired. Goodbye.” Then sprung to gather up the webbing that still blocked off the intersection. Just so he could scurry back down the manhole webbing the lid shut behind him.

Over his shoulders Venom had both your groggy self and unconscious Dr Connors, now shirtless who you used a formerly used once power of dissecting genetic codes in a mixed breed of flower to split his original self and the lizard code overtaking his mind and body. Spidey had to go home, and at Eddie’s place Dr Connors woke up on the couch and promptly shot up. “Hey hey, careful there buddy. Had to stick a monitor on you, kept doing this weird twitch on us.” Eddie said hurrying from the kitchen with a warm mug of water and a teabag he’d not yet unwrapped. “Got you some tea, take it easy.”

“I’m, not a fan of the Buccaneers…” the scientist said now in notice of his loaned shirt he had on to go with the matching sweatpants in a look over himself. Up around the warm cup his hand rose to claim it. “Thank you, where am I?”

“My place. Misique dropped you here. We didn’t know where you left your stuff and the lab has security out the wazoo this time of year, couldn’t just hoist you up and drag you there to look for keys and an ID so we’d know where to take you.”

“Why am I here?” he asked, still a bit confused on how he spaced from being in his lab feeling a transformation coming on as he readied to try his latest way to entrap his other self to not escape.

“Well, not sure if you realize it, but you’ve been growing a tail past couple weeks or so, at least as far as headlines go, could be longer for all we know. I mean, it’s an impressive tail don’t get me wrong. But um, you’ve been trying to eat people, and well your other half, the um, one with the tail tried to set off a gene bomb, to, well, turn everyone in New York into lizards too.” Deeply Dr Connors let out a breath and Eddie nodded patting his hand atop the shoulder of his amputated arm. “I know. Have to say though, it was a hell of a bomb plan, Pluto looked it over, really incredible stuff, we, would suggest burning the notes before Norman his hands on it, but they’re really good even if the other guy came up with it for evil and all that.”

“Pluto,” Dr Connors muttered then looked around taking in a sharp breath, “I didn’t hurt her, did I?”

“Oh no,” Eddie said pointing out the mess of covers atop his round lounge across from the couch Venom stretched the scientist across. “Has to leave for the parade in two hours. I couldn’t sleep, promised to watch you.”

Dr Connors nodded and stole a glance at the wrinkled sleeve hanging off the end of his amputated arm stump to let out a sigh. “Back to the drawing board.”

Eddie chuckled and he looked up to see your brother shake his head, “Oh, you really, don’t get it.” And he reached out to the end of the loose sleeve to ease it up his arm parting the man’s lips seeing his arm a few inches longer nearly to the elbow.

“How…?” he asked frailly.

“Well, Misique was able to split your genetic codes, only well, she sort of tripped your regeneration button thing on the way out. Pluto really can explain it better than I can. But, the monitor is on your temple there,” he said tapping the headband the scientist now felt acutely aware of at a notice of the wire dangling from it. “Pluto put on a blocker for your pain receptors,” dropping the man’s jaw causing Eddie to wave a hand. “Just sticks on, non invasive. Threw out my back once and it works wonders, trust me. Thing is the regeneration is painful, and it’s gonna take some time so we have a friend who is gonna house you in Spain and you can wait out the arm growth there.”

“But, my research. How am I going to explain this?”

Eddie’s head ticked to the side, “You got a team for watching your spiders, and well you can always say Misique burned your notes or messed with your formula is a deviously secretive way, or something. But, you’re um, gonna want to avoid getting hurt in the future.”

“Why?”

“Well you had a two inch deep gash on your thigh and it healed in ten minutes. You got super healing buddy, blessing and a curse. Plus no telling if you’ll age so SHIELD might want to have a chat down the line but um, again, you can always pin it on Misique. She’s pretty reliable like that.”

“Why did she do this?” Dr Connors whispered and his eyes dropped, “I, broke one of the most sacred of lines between science and creation, I played god. Why wouldn’t she leave me as a lizard to punish me?”

“Well because lizard you was edging towards evil. And she’s got a huge thing about more than necessary predators in a territory, huge on balance, would have had to introduce a new food source, or call for a hunting season. Then with how the military is they’d just blow up the city anyways and call it a day killing the people who didn’t grow a tail and possibly not harming the lizards, we really don’t know how resilient that guy could have been. But he’s dead now, and you’re you again, with a new limb that isn’t a tail.”

Eddie said smiling at the scientist who couldn’t help but chuckle and take a sip of the tea. “While Pluto’s at the parade I’ll drive you over to where you hid your stuff, your place to pack, then the airstrip and we got a nice list of excuses we drafted up if you need help with that. Bet you have tons of time off saved up and you just take all the time you need.” Eddie smiled again and all Dr Connors could do was relax, at least for a few moments until he had to wonder just how painful this change would be without the device and just how he might have reacted to have had you put the device on him in the first place to ease his suffering.

 *.*.*

“Okay, this is cool,” Peter muttered to himself. With an armful of stuff he had dug out the back of an electronic store dumpster of things to turn in for credit not the latest generation of tech. Cool stuff could be made out of each of them to continue his latest stream of income to fix and sell the things online.

On the cusp of December there was a surge of goods to dig out of the snow littered dumpsters. Over his bed the items were laid out only on the drift of his eyes to the far right he caught a glimpse at his mysterious backpack. Five times now he had thought he lost that by not knowing when trash day was where he would leave it only to return back to his room and find it inside his bedroom against the wall under the window he crawled in and out of. Still he had no clue on who was bringing it back as his aunt was clueless, having been searching for him at sight of it inside his open bedroom before, only causing him to fumble out a story making him feel worse at the spare lies he had to tell.

“Alberforth Mercury Hedgecrofterson,” Peter muttered to himself, reading the name off the bank mail he picked up from his new p.o box under that same name. Each time he read it only made it seem more ridiculous, although once he opened he envelope he pulled out a burner phone he had for this account as well to activate the card inside to have access to the account. Funds from new tech flipping job was meant to help raise his night life to a new level.

Five sets of his sweatpants and hoodies for his costume had to be made up for replacements due to tears or complete splits of the material that had him on the prowl for a new costume. Dog eared, a sheet within a notebook a website was saved, and an hour later after some work on his mostly completed project he posted a notice on that to his page for sale then typed up the new website for the material. Just like bobsledders the stretchy supposed resilient option to clothe himself with was ordered in red and blue with lengths to spare. Question of who could make his own costume at a skilled level to last longer had him order more in black and yellow to offer as payment to his hopeful tailor in this matter.

Sheepishly he did hand off the material when Misique had agreed amusingly to the task had by means of a body scan had accurate measurements and started to use the same bees to begin design ideas he helped to make up the costume he would anxiously await this upgrade to his image as a fellow masked vigilante.

 *.*.*

 “It’s a bit, pirate,” you said, trying on the jacket to your new costume.

That hung over the pants that hinted more towards chaps. The gifted sporting material laid over sections of your metal that strapped on down your legs up to a belt holster to sit over your usual heavily pocketed pants that would supply the pockets for the chaos that has hidden openings between metal panels to allow access to said pockets. The yellow and black material in alternating diagonal and horizontal strips would contort and shift your natural leg shape to something closer to a bee’s from the front and back to hopefully hide the weak points you could get shot and wounded at, as well as hopefully confusing the aim of people with only seconds to fire your way.

A simple turtle neck top in yellow and black layered with more holsters and pockets would be layered with a flat breastplate to connect to a plate for your back as well, both in what Vibranium panels you had the energy to make this week stitched between layers of your metal to triple enforce your torso at least. The black jacket with buttons you took a good while to choose the perfect design of bees to press into the silver your hive printed hugged your arms and flared out from the waist with a larger lapel that would hide a waterproof hood in case of rain on stakeouts.

Embroidered golden patterns of honeycomb helped to hide the openings for spare grappler chords and blades down the sleeves that felt a bit tight at first over your bee metal arm braces but loosened up to rotations of both limbs. The jacket would sit open, being stitched to a black vest that had more pockets and holsters and allow free range of hand motions to reach back and draw out the axes that rested over the back of your hips. “I’m a pirate in chaps.”

“I love it!” Eddie said and gave you a tight hug making you giggle. “And it’s so bright, tons of metal packed in, or at least a good fifty pounds of it. Much better than the double weighted old Kevlar.”

Venom oozed out to say, “This suits you better, Sister. Now none can compare to your style or stamina.”

“Just hope Peter won’t mind the improvements on his mask.”

“Boy was racing around in goggles, you improved his focus no doubt and he won’t have to stop if it fogs up on him like wither the clowns. Difference between scurrying away and being shot in the thigh.”

Again you turned to see all the angles of your new costume and sighed, “I can hear Stark and his puns now.”

“Oh he’s got no pun game over a swashbuckling bee,” he said making you smirk, “You could make one of those freeze and lightning guns you’ve been tweaking into a canon.”

“I could. Definitely could. No one would see the canon coming.”

“Especially if you make it really small and they’re all confused at you setting it down then running to hide before it just blasts a huge hole in something.” His chuckles blended with yours in the game of imagining new obscure weapons while you worried slightly at having the more figure flattering silhouette layers to have you less of a blocky body shape than your old armor.

Still sixteen you didn’t want the attention Black Widow got online when she was seen in her leather jumpsuit tactical gear. But at least for your comfort the jacket would cover your rear end and the chest plate would conceal the curve of your bust just leaving from the knee down to be ogled shamelessly by those who only cared to know the shape of flesh under your layered armor. The gloves however to your tries to improve the gap between fingers the new armored backs had a finger on each hand a bit stiff that would take more tweaking and have you don your old pair for the night delivery.

Loudly Spidey gasped, fully in his new suit, having changed inside one of the empty buses in the lot you had agreed to meet him in for the trade off. “You even improved the face mask.” Soft whirs barely audible to either of you showed expression in the eyes to shrink and grow disguising his natural eyes and help to filter light and air quality when needed.

“I can make a new one with goggles if you get nostalgic.”

And firmly he gave you a tight hug, “I love it! Thank you so much! So much better than I could have ever done!”

“Before I forget, belly pouch,” that had him gasp.

And exclaim, “I have a belly pouch?!” He asked easing his fingers into the hidden pouch accessible on both sides of his abdomen layered with some of the bee metal you shared you’d layered onto the abdomen, back and limbs. “Where else do I have pockets?!” The front of his hips had one each and down the thigh were two small pockets in a line going down to the shin with one on the inside and outside of his lower legs like the hidden pair on the inner and outer forearms that had him hug you again.

“I would never send you out without pockets.” You said and he pulled back again bouncing on his toes.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! And I’m really jealous of your coat!” He said circling you making you giggle.

“Didn’t realize it was so piratey till I finished.”

“Pirates are awesome! Are you kidding?” He said stopping in front of you and bounced again, “Can we go try them out? Or make a video? Or do both? Can we do both?!”

And with a giggle you answered, “Alright, we can do both. Just have to get home soon, have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Absolutely!”

 *.*.*

“Arr you kidding me, Bee? Pirate?!” Tauntingly Stark had gone after your new suit on his social page before he went to a meeting in the morning, the latest of the continuing saga of terms to be founded for the Heroes of the Avengers to abide by on future missions.

After which he could only scoff in seeing your response to the taunt, “At least my abs aren’t etched on my armor.”

“Oh this is war,” he muttered heading to his gym, “You want abs, I’ll show you abs, Queenie.”

 *.*.*

 Across the counter as you whipped up a breakfast for you Chester read the open letter you got from Sweden. Mentally he shared the text that this was a notice that the research company your parents worked with and still were trying to recreate their work had petitioned to have you noted as emancipated in Sweden.

Normally this would not be done by a third party, but as the patents and files your parents left behind were sealed and solely belonging to you they were unable to help anyone. And since the blip the greatest cause of death in Scandinavia now was genetic disorders that gradually broke down various parts of the body, the main focus of your parents’ life work. In unlocking your status as a minor there they could in the least offer up payment to borrow the knowledge of the patents or notes left behind for a designated time to get the study back up and actually turning their wheels instead of stuck in the ditch.

Within the notice as you loaded up your plate you were told was a form you could return to the office this was sent from to inform a judge you did not wish to be involved within any emancipation case, as it most likely would require a trip back to Sweden to have it concluded in person. That was where you were stuck however. In delaying the process people could suffer and die. While in waiting as well you could have no access to prove you had completed the work your parents had dreamed of to reproduce the solution your father had created to test amongst others on your mother. Who showed marked improvement to daily function and no sign of Wilson’s disease in her blood before she died proving in time she could have regained most if not all of her lacking bodily functions the disease had imposed upon her.

You knew how to make more. And had even built a small portable machine to help adapt the process even quicker than standard machines available today in practically all genetic labs. Within the same day of arrival you could prove its worth and have a research group study to impose the compound upon donated tissues and genetic samples to prove it irradiates the diseases. A first step to eventual human trials to one day have direct treatment for anyone who can make it to the office it is supplied at once proper genetic standard of being was reached as far as vitals went to soften the blow of the whopper of a medicinal dose to said patients.

You would just have to go home. The last word echoed in your mind as you tried to picture the office you had been taken to a few times where they dropped by when your parents weren’t inside their home lab. Some reason every room you toured in your memory the walls shifted to be coated in paisley paper even though you knew it to be mainly green forest portraits on wallpaper. From Buster however you realized at his buzz he was sharing it was the paisley tie man being seen in the street corner in his usual morning stroll to work that had you hurry to finish getting ready as you were going to be late.

 .

“Hey!” off the ladder up to a rooftop you hopped onto the roof to find a money bag wielding individual in a striped shirt and corduroy pants turn. His body halfway morphing to sand readying to fight only to pause at the glint of gold in your palm and dangling from it off the chain linked to the locket he had dropped. In just a hat, jacket, t shirt and jeans with boots barely able to keep from sliding on the slick fresh slushy snow coating the roof you moved closer. “Dropped this.”

“You aren’t afraid of me?” he assumed to have just thought the words and not spoken them only to notice your smirk in the shift of the chunky braid laid across your chest gathering more loose snowflakes as they fell.

“She isn’t, why should I be?”

You asked and he let out a wry chuckle, “You’re that girl, the one who knows Venom.”

“That’s me,” you said as he timidly leaned in to let you secure the necklace around his neck so he wouldn’t drop it again. “You should take Helm to 35th.”

“You aren’t even going to ask?”

“About the money?” you asked and he nodded. “Alright, since I must, why?”

“I borrowed money, Penny, she was sick. Misique helped get her better. No more bills or, insurance hassles. Brand new marrow. But, I borrowed money before, I got locked up, they’re trying to take our home.”

“Well, anyone asks, I came up for the moonlight.” You said making him chuckle, “I am a Pagan after all. Wild about moonlight and just mad as a hatter.” With a giggle you turned to peer up at the moon granting him a signal to continue on his way, for your blind observance to the sound of sand pooling over the side of the buildings he crossed to get the distance.

This wasn’t the first one you had let off the hook who owed loan sharks from prior debts before your medical overhaul, and often you had taken to going from loan shark to loan shark to gain names of those who owed and amounts to help find means to pay off those debts. Often mints with pools of cash to be destroyed was an easy fix, and often they really didn’t care, when you got involved they were known to forgive those with reasoning like this man’s.

A bird overhead had you turn in its warning that a colorful male had come up behind you, the bird knowing by the red leather that was taken as a mating tactic to allure females by his bright colors here to face off with your navy blue jacket and hat clad self. “Daredevil, right?” you asked halting him in his try to chase after Sandman while Spiderman rounded up a group of petty car thieves who had distracted him not far away.

“Yes, are you hurt?”

“No,” you said moving closer, “Could I ask you a few questions?”

“Miss, I’m currently trying to apprehend a criminal.”

“Sandman, I know. But I think I might have a bigger fish that could require your skills than a man paying off a loan shark.”

“Loan-,” he sighed, “This is the fifth guy this week I’ve ran into on those damn sharks. Let me guess, medical bills?”

“Baby girl needed a transplant,” you said making him turn away a moment groaning to himself mid flex of fingers around his red cane he had been gripping to not drop. “Up for a walk?”

“Where we headed? And what sort of questions did you mean?”

“Well, my brother’s a reporter,”

“I don’t-,” he said falling silent at your hands resting on his arm above the elbow to guide him back to the ladder.

“Not about you, more a tap of a sort of mindset to help with a general feel for the city in a wider piece. All anonymous, mind you.”

“I’m listening.” He said actually growing more intrigued at the story the more you walked to where you found a warehouse with some real criminals in good use of a fear of a certain devil to be put in them since you were nowhere near to your place to change.

The sun set early these days as winter went on and right to the theater you went to change and be helped into costume making note of all that was said to hand over to Eddie afterwards when he would pick you up. Grateful as ever more notes to add to a bigger backsplash of a story would be pooled and savored by your big brother, who over a supper afterwards while he rubbed your sore feet and legs to help coax what he knew you were holding in since first receiving that letter the other day.

Tears were a given, flooding from years of fear for what might happen if you ever went back to Sweden or your hometown again. As if your return meant more people closest to you were doomed when you did. Even with a man eating Symbiote inside of him you were afraid of losing Eddie for what you truly felt to be a second murder of your causing. To be completely alone again to face the unknown chaos drawn to you, and surely with this letter more was on its way.

Pt 37

[customhydrauliccylinders]

Hydraulic Cylinders: What You Need To Know (And Why!)

Hydraulic cylinders form the heart of a wide range of industrial applications, from driving heavy construction machinery to agricultural implements; they take one key role in transforming energy into force and motion. From the tie-rod hydraulic cylinders and welded hydrualic cyinders, to telesoping hydraulics cyliders — knowing what goes into these types of equipment is imperative for maintaining their functionality. The following article outlines how hydraulic cylinders work, detailing the important functions of each section to provide a basic understanding of these strong machines.

Hydraulic cylinders anatomyXSLHydraulics, XSL Hydraulic Cylinders, Custom Hydraulic Cylinder, Custom Hydraulic Cylinders

There are various types of hydraulic cylinders which have different components, and they all do work for making it functional. Knowing these pieces will give you a deeper understanding of the engineering involved in custom hydraulic cylinders, and enable you to choose or maintain those units without ignoring essential components.

Cylinder Barrel

The cylinder barrel is the body of a hydraulic cylinder, thus it is complete product material. This component contains the hydraulic pressure that is created in the cylinder and some internal parts. The durability and the precision machining of a barrel are essential to avoid premature failure in custom hydraulic cylinders via poor operation under high pressure.

Cylinder Base

The barrel of the hydraulic cylinder is closed on one end by a cap called a Cylinder base or Cap; this bounds as well. The base can be mounted on the barrel by welding, threading bolts or tie rods according to design. The base also acts as a mounting place for the hydraulic cylinder, locking it in to its machinery or equipment home. The cylinder base of tie-rod hydraulic cylinders and many others needs to be attached correctly inorder for it to work properly.

Cylinder Head

On the opposite end of that barrel is a cylinder head sealing off the barrel and containing ports for piston rod extension/retraction. The cylinder head is equipped to hold in the pressure of a piston and has seals that don't allow hydraulic fluid escape as it moves through its travel. The design of a cylinder head is one example: in welded hydraulic cylinders which require that the seal hold pressure, quality can be especially critical.

Piston

This piston is a very important member which moves inside the cylinder barrel at hydraulic pressures, to give force or power ot push he rod of the engine. The piston has grooves for seals, and the seals are what keep pressure while preventing fluid from bypassing around the outside of the piston. Using telescopic hydraulic cylinders is reliable and efficient, but the piston must be accurate enough for it to hold up against great or even high forces when working through hundreds of cycles.

Piston Rod

The piston rod is made from hard chrome-plated cold-rolled steel and extends all the way up through to the cylinder head. This is what attaches to the machinery like a plow or dump body that you are going to operate. Movements and the environment are two key factors that make a piston rod useful in its application, therefore a good quality must be expected by any manufacturer. Many times the manufacture of custom hydraulic cylinders focuses on improving the strength, and wear properties in a rod; which will increase overall performance.

The Role of Hydraulic Seals

Any hydraulic cylinder relies on the functionality of a number of hyrasulic seals to retain fluid and maintain smooth force transfer between piston and rod. Hydraulic cylinders are useful only if the seals in them are excellent and compatible with certain types of materials which include rubber-like nitrile, polyurethane based or Teflon®/fluorocarbon.

Primary and Secondary Seals

They are the primary seals against fluid leakage with secondary or buffer seal make up. These seals of course should be selected carefully depending on the cylinder's operating pressure, speed and temperature range. However, you might find that a hydraulic cylinders manufacturer suggests fluorocarbon seals for high-temperature applications or polyurethane seals in filthy environments; alternatives best suited to withstand harsh conditions.

Bearing Elements and Wipers

Bearings elements help to support the alignment of the piston rod and also reduces friction & wear due to different movements during working operation. They keep the rod clean by removing dirt, dust and moisture so that these contaminants cannot get into the cylinder to create harm. Despite what anybody may inform you of the contrary, suitable maintenance to your bearing elements and wipers is essential for extending the lifetime of welded (as well as other) hydraulic cylinders.

Quality Components for Impressive Performance

For the best performance of your hydraulic cylinders, you should use high standard replacement parts and components. That doesn´t encompass just the selection of appropriate seals, rods and other essential elements according to your specific application requirements. At XSLHydraulics.com, we hot sale trade from china hydraulic cylinder manufacturing and carving a wide range of cylinders for use in diverse industries around the globe.

Conclusion

Knowing what you are dealing with in regards to hydraulic cylinders is important if you want them working as efficiently, and reliably, as possible. It does not matter if you deal with tie-rod hydraulic cylinders, welded hydraulic cylinders or telescopic units so tracked or mobile machinery; all of our parts can be inspected and in compliance which helps against breakdowns but also to extend the lifetime.

Hire For the Experts and Be at ease for The One Stop Shop in Hydraulics- XSLHydraulic.com today. We are dedicated to the best products and service for your hydraulic system, so it can run even better.

[nonagesimis]

"it didn't happen like that."

you had a cavalier. the red tufts of burning hair are fuzzy memories that thrum around your cranium like a fucking bezoar. it grows something deep inside you, something that tickles each neurone and aches at each striation of muscle that you can fathom. your flesh magic had never been truly perfect, but you knew each length of bone like it was something you'd dissected from your own flesh itself. you stare at the mirror, condensed and with its own flesh-burning bands that drip hot water through butter, and you will yourself to remember.

"it didn't happen like that." it rings like a church bell, a solemn hymn pronouncing yourself to the locked tomb, to the body that sits itself wrapped in too many shackles for you to unclip. it seethes under the broil of your skin, too hot, too heady, and you see those flashes of red, and gold, and the sparkling, toothy grin of a woman that seems too far away from you.

"it didn't happen like that." ortus, so strong and meaty, so worn into the tapestry that the skull anointing the features of his face is just that beat too disjointed for a pious member of the ninth house. your brain is ablaze in nerve endings and that thin rapier-sized twinge of pain splitting the grooves in your prefrontal cortex. you remember the casually-cruel, cool murmurs of TIME TO ABSOLUTELY FUCK YOU UP, SISTER, and the pleading that ensued. (it didn't come from you — you aren't sure where it came from, aside from the bleeding tears of ianthe tritendar.ius begging you to reverse it).

you remember all pain, the burning edges of your vision flaring into the back of your skull, and the crunch of knuckle bone between your fingers as you reached back with the cold, thin strip like a goddamn ice pick. you remember ortus, peeling you off the floor like a child who'd stayed up too late, or a bird with a clipped wing. you remember him lamenting, stroking the crest of your forehead like caring for a newborn babe alone in the aftermath of a house fire. you smell burning, and rubber, and a nauseating heretofore of soup and the sickly sweet of acid on your lips. you threw up again, and mercy rolls her eyes in your general direction and pities the worn-out shrivelled husk you've curled yourself into.

it didn't happen like that. how the fuck did it happen?

[sofiagabrielle]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: ON CLOUDMONSTER PEARL/ARCTIC WOMEN'S.

[fineartsjournal]

213341 Art Studio IIIA ⋆ Interim - Study break-ing my heart

Out of campus for the break and with my emails to Mike unanswered, I cut my losses, went on Rubber Monkey and ordered the UCA202 myself.

A few days later it arrived - the final piece to my procrastination-fueled sampling puzzle.

It was exciting! For the first time in two months, I was actually going to turn the damn thing on and USE it.

Everything was hooked in, the sampler was now fully connected to the computer, and I was ready to rock and roll.

…I had enough time to tap the buttons a couple times before I heard a loud pop, turned my head to the outlet, and saw smoke coming out of the plug.

The following is a recreation of the event:

After yelling a number of expletives, I hurriedly unplugged everything and sat with the very real possibility that I might had just burned through $500 in 10 seconds.

A text exchange with my dear friend and recent BFA graduate Zero roughly pinpointed the cause to be with the incorrect voltage of the adaptor I was using, and the SP-202 manual more-or-less confirmed this.

Wanting to make the most out of an increasingly-shitty night, I put some of the CDs to work in Audacity and did a little plunderphornicating for a couple hours.

It was my first composition in over 3 weeks - so here's to not having a creativity gap that wide ever again.

...it could've gone better: I spent an hour alone just trying to get the individual components to sync-up pitch-wise; and not to much success.

Audacity is a finnicky, obselete, idiosyncratic and utterly annoying piece of tech to use, but when it gets me down, I remember: Any recording artist even 25 years ago would KILL for software such as this, let alone it being free.

Samples used:

Trey - With or Without

Trey - Wall-paper

Kim Stockwood - Soap

Aside from the musicmaking session, a brief smell test put the plug, adaptor and extension multi-plug into the bin, but not before an outing the next morning to Music Planet for some diagnostics.

The young man at the desk there was a good help, further clarifying the issue to be with the plug (that was shipped from Japan with the sampler) having a different...voltage... transform.... thing than the New Zealand... forgive me, this is like learning a new language.

I would need to buy a new adaptor plug, specific to the details he wrote on the back of a business card. If I were lucky, the current (fried) plug would've absorbed the damage, but otherwise, the Rockshop would provide repairs.

It was then on to Jaycar, as I brought myself a new extension multi-plug and adapter plug, and watched $50 disappear in front of my very eyes.

The chap there was also quite handy, whipping up some wiring diagrams of the Boss Sampler to show that, if there had been any damage, it would only be in the region near where the plug goes in and I forgot the rest.

I could, if I had wanted to, plug the new adaptor into the sampler and try working things again - at my own risk. I was a bit fearful in reference to the following graph:

TWO WEEKS OF PUSSYFOOTING LATER (est. Week 7)

...and so I hauled my gear to Rockshop, to see what I could do about it. After wincing at the nearly-burning-the-house-down-backstory, they plugged in the sampler with the new gear.

They were jumpy about it, and I couldn't even tell if they were joking - a decent chance they were just as unsure as I was! But low and behold... IT WORKED!

I tapdanced my way back home.

I mean, I still had to actually learn to use the damn thing.

During the meantime, I was back in the lab, creating small 'beats' from the CDs at my disposal.

Samples used:

Kim Stockwood - Truth

Fruit - Tales and Truth

Samples used:

Joakim Unander - Vibracell

Joakim Unander - Terra Firma

Groove Collective - I Want You (She's so Heavy)

Samples used:

Trey - Arcade Warrior

Clay Aiken - Touch

Clay Aiken - Measure of a Man

I was having fun! I almost forgot what that word meant! I was also getting more familiar with the Audacity layout - each beat took only an hour to assemble.

[tyrelabtradeuk]

 Why Are Nexen Tyres Some Of The Top-Performance Tyres?

You might suppose top-class tyre manufacturers like Michelin, and Pirelli dominate the marketplace, however, Nexen isn't always tons farther! With their Roadian and Aria tyre collection, Nexen is speedily catching up. So, in this weblog, we can see how Cheap tyres perform.

 What are Nexen tyres?

 Nexen is an identified logo that produces tyres at a reasonable price. It was in 1942 in South Korea. To begin with, it commenced as a Heung-A Tyre employer but changed its name to Nexen in 2000.

 Nexen Tyres' maximum popular car tyre models consist of the Nexen Classe choicest and Nexen Roadian HP. To fulfil your driving demands, you may effortlessly purchase Nexen tyres based on their specifications and other functions.

 Are Nexen Tyres excessive-overall performance?

 Nexen Tyres are mid-level tyres taken into consideration higher high-quality than price range tyres, however now not almost the same old as premium tyres. As an alternative, they have popular overall performance tyres referred to as N’fera SU1 and N7000. In exercise, they can close longer with increased performance than finance tyres while not costing as a great deal as top-class tyres.

 Included With pleasant-In-class technologies:

 Nexen makes excessive-performance tyres of class exceptional with the use of the most modern technologies evolved at its studies and improvement facilities, and the same global-magnificence merchandise is there globally.

 The tyres had been using the pleasant-in-magnificence era to function optimally in numerous conditions. they're carefully made with rubber composition and consist of specifically designed grooves that offer a great grip on diverse driving occasions.

 Whilst considering new tyres, take into account braking, handling, and luxury. Nexen has an intensive range of performance tyres meant for these situations. these tyres provide tremendous braking, coping with, and a clean trip.

 Summer to all-season variants are to be had in incredibly high-performance and ultra-high-performance fashions. For folks who seek the finest using revel in viable, those performance tyres are a tremendous choice.

 All-Terrain Tyres With Long-lasting Tread Existence:

 Nexen gives a huge variety of tyres designed for overall performance on numerous terrains. those all-season tyres are to offer satisfactory-in-class handling and performance

 In dry and wet conditions. Nexen tyres are there for long-lasting tread lifestyles, which protects your stability for an extended duration in addition to trip comfort and minimal noise. there are numerous tread styles to pick out from, as well as all-terrain, motorway, and dust-terrain tyres.

 Nexen also offers specialised tyres for light trucks and mild commercial vehicles. those hard tyres are there for elevated durability, resulting in longer tread lifestyles and more financial savings.

 The advanced material composition gives incredible performance in every situation and minimum rolling resistance, resulting in advanced gas efficiency.

 Wide variety Of Miles Nexen Tyres ultimate:

 Industry specialists say they have a long lifespan even if unused however, the everyday lifespan varies depending on the model and the way frequently it's far used.

 Primarily based on the layout, Nexen tyre brands commonly close 50,000-60,000 miles.

 The Nexen N5000 Plus and N'fera RU5 are to vary sixty-five,000 miles, at the same time as the Aria AH7 ranges at 80,000 miles. when not used frequently, these tyres may additionally last as long as eight years if maintained dry and funky.

 It's far essential to smooth and look at Nexen tyres often and inflate them to the proper strain. in case you save your tyres for the long term, cautiously clean them and preserve them in a dry, bloodless region. this may assist keep away from fractures and different kinds of damage, such as dry rot, that can limit their lifespan.

 Earlier than making use of tyres, always take a look at the pressure to ensure they are not damaged or dried out. this can allow them to stay longer and carry out better. this can expand their life and assist you to maximize the benefits of your funding.

 Based For better control And Stability:

 Nexen tyres are in particular engineered to grip on all surfaces, along with highways and rugged terrain.

 Also, these tyres are the greatest choice for a vehicle. The big grooves lessen hydroplaning, which aids in correctly evacuating water. As a result, the tyres offer a higher grip on moist surfaces and enhance the automobile's braking capability.

 The tyre is also designed to be extra durable, offer a noise-free riding experience, and offer extra comfort and safety functions.

 Nexen tyres are in this kind of way that they may offer wonderful overall performance.

 The four wide and direct channel designs offered multiplied grip on the ground, which helped to beautify the automobile's balance. As a result, it presents the passengers with the most protection. Similarly, an arrow middle rib layout provides appropriate control even at excessive speeds by improving excessive pace using overall performance.

The bottom Line:

 Nexen gives 23 one-of-a-kind passenger automobile, truck, and SUV fashions as each affords a wonderful Garages in Birmingham degree of overall performance for different riding circumstances. Furthermore, the model and proper protection determine mileage. Nexen tyres assure a secure journey by way of enhancing the automobile's braking overall performance additionally, the bigger footprint allows the tyres to make better and more constant touch with the street, improving the automobile's balance and balance.

[ecoscreen]

DIY Fly Screen Installation Tips to Save Your Day

There are several advantages to window screens, such as shielding against dirt and other environmental factors and deterring flies and insects without compromising light and fresh air. A window screen can shield windows from potential damage caused by high winds during a storm.

If you have the necessary time and tools, or if you just want to know if you can install a window screen continue reading this blog. Go for the fly screens installation Service Auckland if you don’t feel confident about the DIY job. 

Choosing the Right Fly Screen

Determine the material of your window screen before installing it, then buy a replacement in the appropriate size. Fiberglass mesh is the most often used material for screens. Solar screens and aluminium screens are two more common choices.

To make sure you purchase the correct size screen, measure your frame and windows. A central support is required if the screen is 36 inches or taller to keep it from bending. Although there are differences in window sizes, the typical sizes range from 18 by 20 inches to 36 by 74 inches. Custom orders from fly screens specialist Auckland are needed for screens that are not in these sizes.

Keep Supplies Ready

Make sure you have all the necessary tools before you start. Acquire a measuring tape, a spline roller, a reliable utility knife, your preferred replacement screen material, and the right spline (typically vinyl or rubber). Additionally, it's usually a good idea to have a screwdriver handy in case your window frame calls for one.

Make the Material Ready

After positioning the frame on a level surface, lay out enough screen material to completely envelop the frame. Using a utility knife, cut the screen to the desired size, leaving an extra 2 inches of screening material on each side. This will guarantee that your replacement screen fits correctly.

Install the Fly Screen

To avoid calling for a fly screens installation Service Auckland follow the installation steps below. 

Using a clamp at the bottom and top of the frame, pull the replacement screen snugly over the frame.

Using the screen rolling tool, press the screen into the frame's grooves using the convex wheel's outward groove.

Using the spline roller, press the spline into the channel to secure it to the frame. Use wire brads to secure the mesh or staples if the frame is made of wood.

Don't overstretch the cloth; instead, keep it tight over the frame. The screen will droop if it's too loose, and the edges of the frame may get damaged if it's too tight. Rolling the screen in on two adjacent sides and then positioning a brick or other heavy item in the centre of the screen is one approach to make sure it fits taut.

After attaching the mesh along the last two edges, remove the brick. Take out the spline and try again if you see any creases or bulges in the mesh.

Get Rid of the Excess

After the spline is firmly in place, clip any excess screen material that is hanging over the frame's edges with your utility knife. This step helps guarantee that the window screen rests correctly and provides a cleaner, more polished appearance, although it is not necessary.

Maintenance 

In addition to extending its protective lifespan, window screen maintenance may help you save money. The following advice from a fly screens specialist Auckland will help you maintain the quality of your recently fitted screens:

Make sure you get the screens on your windows cleaned once or twice a year at the very least. To get rid of the collected dust and filth, you can use a vacuum. To gently brush them off, you can instead use soap and water.

Take off your screen in the winter. Snow might become trapped between the screen and the glass, severely harming it.

To avoid causing harm to the material, learn how to correctly remove and replace the window screen.

Though DIY is quite trending today and with the right skill and patience, many people are achieving the desired result with DIY, professional installation is always recommended to avoid any problem in the future. Choose a reputable fly screens specialist Auckland to help you with the product and installation both so that your investment becomes worthwhile.

[truckrepairinmaryland]

THE IMPACT OF TIRES ON HEAVY VEHICLE PERFORMANCE

The performance of heavy trucks is significantly influenced by a wide range of factors. But when discussing the performance of big trucks, tires are the last thing we would consider. First impressions can be deceiving because it may seem like wheels and tires have nothing to do with how efficiently a vehicle works.

Do tires actually impact a car’s performance? HUGE YES The condition of the vehicle’s tires has a significant impact on how far a driver can travel on a single tank of fuel. You might be wondering how the tire relates to the vehicle’s fuel economy. The answer is that the wheels need energy to roll lower on the ground (this is known as rolling resistance), and this energy comes from the vehicle’s fuel. Additionally, the tires serve as the vehicle’s point of physical contact with the ground, serving as the link between the car and the road.

The less fuel required for pushing the vehicle forward, the better the tire’s condition. In addition to using more gasoline, the vehicle’s worn-out tires also make it slick and make it more accident-prone.

So how do we know if the tires are in good condition?

The Tread Pattern

To provide the highest level of performance and driving safety, every tire is carefully developed and engineered. Vehicle stability is provided by the grooves in the tread pattern (the straight lines on the tires). Between the grooves, there are tiny indicators that display the tires’ wear and tear. It’s time to replace the tires when the grooves and the indications are on the same surface levels. It might not be simple for everyone to learn this and comprehend it. For the best heavy vehicle service in Maryland, it is advised that you bring your heavy vehicle to a repair shop like Eastline Road Repairs in Maryland.

Size of Tyre.

Because the size of the tire depends on the use of the vehicle, different vehicles have different kinds of tires. The fuel efficiency is decreased by huge tires while improved by compact tires. However, tiny tires are more suited for stop-and-go traffic, whilst large tires are better suited for driving on highways. Therefore, the type of tires needed for a vehicle depends on its use. Therefore, before putting an extra inch on your tires, it is usually advisable to consult a service provider. The knowledgeable staff at Eastline Road Repairs in Maryland offers the top recommendations for tire service for your heavy vehicle.

Tyre Inflation

The performance of the vehicle is significantly impacted by the pressure in your tires, which is a crucial factor. A vehicle’s fuel consumption may increase if its tires are underinflated. Additionally, since low pressure will cause the rubber to spread out more on the road and increase contact, underinflated tires may speed up the wear and tear process. However, underinflated tires are also risky since they put more strain on the rubber while offering less traction, leading to early wear and tear. Additionally, it raises the danger of possible harmful tire breaks.

The life of the driver & vehicle depends upon the tyres and their well-being is the last thing to be compromised in a vehicle. Therefore, to get the best tire service in Maryland, visit Eastline Road Repairs so that every wear and tear could be taken care of. For the best service and repair work on heavy vehicles, visit Eastline Road Repairs in Maryland, and for more information visit: https://eastlineroadrepair.com/

[yoyik456]

China Yoyik pressure relief valve YSF8-55/50 for power plant

"China Yoyik pressure relief valve YSF8-55/50 for power plant Deyang YOYIK skill is strong, the production of strict accordance with national standards. With the power station forging, mining metallurgy, rolling, cement and spare parts spare parts, metallurgy, rolling and other products improve the production and operation system. For hundreds of water technology change, hydropower, thermal power plant overhaul supply of high-quality equipment selection, equipment commissioning, construction plans, spare parts, after-sales service, such as through-train service. The company to undertake hydropower stations, thermal power plant unit capacity transformation, technical transformation and overhaul projects. Look forward to the major manufacturers to inquire.

Yoyik can offer many spare parts for power plants as below:

DF-pressure relief valve YSF8-55/50-DF

globe throttle check valve LJC40-4.0P pump mechanical seal 90NY/JXMF servo valve 0508.1300T0102.AW003 pump screw HSND210-54 transfer pump oil SDH100-65-250A Hydrogen side DC oil pump HSNS210-54NZ piston pumps A10VS0100DR/32R-VPB12N00 pumps centrifugal CZ65-250A pipe joint assembly YJM132-7000 pressure hose SMS-12/15-610mm-B hydraulic oil pump 125LY-32 Accumulator bladder 6L OD150*H385MM φ22MM oil transfer pump SDH65-50-125 bearing sleeve 125LY-35-2 piston pumps PV292R5DC00 vacuum pump 30-WSRP BALL BEARING SINGLE ROW RADIAL DEEP GROOVE NO.6004 Servo valve G772 K240A vacuum pump parts P-2402 dc screw pump HSNS210-40A radial piston pump PVH098R-01AJ30B0720000010010AB010A pump vacuum ROTARYPUMP NO.30-WS SEARIAL vacuum filter 30-WS centrifugal pump working 100-80-160 600MW turbine DC Emergency pump (EOP)coupling driving pin 125LY-32 mechanical rubber seal N0330/2100/K/M/506B Thermal Power Servo Valve J073-185-J2008 piston pumps 2.5MCY14-1B screw pump stainless DLZB820-R65-8 vacuum pumps P-1758 solenoid valve 4WE-6-D62/EW230 N9K/V pressure relief valve YSF8-55/50

relief valve DB10-2-5X/20 O-ring φ108×3.55mm reciprocating piston pump PVH74(QI)C-RM-IS-10-C14 Dump Valve DN150 P23041B-00 mechanical face seal 1D56-H75/95-00 00 11 vacum pump air vacuum 30-WS-32 pressure hose S100-AC-AC-0400 centrifugal pump prices DFB80-50-240 hydraulic pump piston PD060PC02SRS5BC00E1200000 pumps centrifugal DF-DFB100-8 screw pump manufacturer ACG045N6IVBP metering piston pump PVH740ICRSF-IS-10-1 screw pump manufacturer SNH280R54E6.7W21 Globe valve WJ10F-16P BFP LP Regulating valveservo valve DSV-001B solenoid valve YA2BB4522G00040 axial piston pump PVH098B01AJ30A250000001001AB010 globe valve J11F-16P DN6 AST solenoid valve C9506000 Flange Bearing 1-23-43184-561 piston hydraulic pump PVH098R01AJ30A250000002001AB010A piston vacuum pump PVH074R01AA10A250000002001AB010A centrifugal pump working DFB100-65-260 valve J23W-6.4PAD PN6.4 DN10 end suction centrifugal pump 125-80-260 centrifugal pumps 65-250A ball valve KHB-M36×2-1212-02X Gear oil pump PFG-214/RO centrifugal pump prices CZ65-200 pressure hose SMS-12/15-1524-B reciprocating piston pump A145-FR01-H-K-30 pressure relief valve YSF8-55/50

DFYLSYC-2024-3-11-A

"