#Holly Motors

[augustusaugustus]

The Bill: "Now We're Motoring"

CONWAY: I have nightmares about you, Hollis.

[alpha-mag-media]

Holly Willoughby ‘doesn’t know what to do’ after ‘nightmare’ | In Trend Today

Holly Willoughby ‘doesn’t know what to do’ after ‘nightmare’ Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[ur-mag]

Holly Willoughby ‘doesn’t know what to do’ after ‘nightmare’ | In Trend Today

Holly Willoughby ‘doesn’t know what to do’ after ‘nightmare’ Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗢𝗬 lando norris x fem! lifegaurd! reader (fluff) “. . . you have to watch a drivers mess around, get hurt, then let him make it up to you.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

They rented out the hotel's pool, and like idiots on fifty cups of coffee were swimming around trying to hit each other with pool noodles and swimming boards. You could only walk around the pool bored out of your mind watching the boys, it was already so late into the night and you were tired.

You've recognized them long ago, being the athletes your brothers watch race cars every other weekend. What they were doing in Canada? You didn't know. Why were they messing around in your pool? You did not know. You couldn't care less. You just watched and made sure they didn't drown each other.

"Oh shit. Ok ok, stop." One was quick to surrender, his pool noodle being stolen. "My legs cramping!" He complained trying to tread and keep his head above water. Here we go, you sighed throwing your rescue tube in his direction which he quickly grabbed on.

Once you slipped in, you swam calmly towards him. "Don't grab me." You warned moving behind him and putting your hands under his armpits carrying him back. The other boys laughed as they watched, whistling and cheering for him. Lando could only blush with an extremely nervous smile.

He was whispering to the other drivers about how cute you were before and now that he was this close to you he felt his brain short circuit. Once you reached the edge, you held him there hopping out before pulling him out.

Holly hell you were strong. Carlos and Charles swam near him wiggling their eyebrows suggesting-ly at him. The British boy could only flip them off, prompting a loud laugh coming from Max in the background. Pulling the boy away from the edge of the pool you sat beside him with one leg behind his back.

"It's just the cramp?" You asked. Boy was swooning in his head over your voice. You were attractive and beautiful- "You okay?" You broke him out of his thoughts frowning. "Y—yeah I—i just—" He stutterd over his words making your frown deepen. "Did you hit your head?"

"No!" He cleared his throat. "Sorry. No, I'm fine. It's just the leg cramp, yes." You nodded hesitantly, turning your head back to the pool to watch the other boys. Charles and Carlos were quick to pretend you weren't watching with Max and Daniel chasing each other.

"You'll be able to compete on Sunday with that, yeah?" You asked not looking at him. "Sorry?" "You are the race car drivers, no? My brothers watch your races." You explained. "Y—yeah I'll be fine." "Why are you stuttering so much? Are you cold?" You sighed looking at the time.

"Yes." he lied through his teeth. He couldn't take his eyes of you, not for a second as you got up and got him a towel, wrapping it around him before sitting back down with your leg supporting his back. "Thank you for not letting me drown. I owe you one" He broke the silence after a few moments making you shrug. "It's my job."

"I still owe you one. I insist." He tried again making you turn to look at him quietly. "If you insist."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You like it?" Lando asked as walked under an umbrella with you through the pitlane showing you the track. "It's pretty." You nodded rubbing your hands in your kangaroo pockets to try and stimulate some warmth.

"So what are you doing today?" You asked not really sure how the sport works. "It's qualifying today, we set our fastest times one laps. The faster you are, the higher up on the grid you start tomorrow, the actual race." You hummed in understandment nodding. "Makes sense yeah."

Lando was glad you hadn't noticed his lingering eyes on you, 'cause he practically hasn't looked away since you stepped under his umbrella with him. The only thing that bothered him was the colours you were wearing.

"Why don't we go back to the motor home and I'll get you McLaren merch." "Sure." And sure enough, you wore the orange themed shirt with the number four on your back. "You look way better in orange." He swooned smiling brightly.

"You hungry?" Once again, you were in the cafeteria eating a fruit salad you managed to get your hands on. "Oh, look at that." Pausing with your eating you looked out the window to find out what the boy was gesturing to only to find nothing. Felling a hand take yours, you looked back to see Lando lifting your hand up quickly to his mouth eating the strawberry off your fork with a smile.

"Hey!" You pulled back your fork once you realized what just happened. The boy only giggled at you in victory. In an act of revence you took a blueberry from his bowl eating it with a 'hmph'.

"Where's the umbrella?" You asked once you were ready to return to the garage for quali. "There is no umbrella!" Lando shoute taking your hand and dragging you through the heavy rain. You quickly ran, trying to match his pace with your already soaked shoes and now wet clothes as well.

"You're crazy." You nudged his chest once you finally arrived in the safety of the garage. 'crazy in love with you.' he though to himself smiling brightly. He's never smiled so much in a day, his team knew so. Mans was crushing hard.

"Here." He offered you his spare shirt which he had worn under his race suit. You gently took the spare looking in his eyes, a soft smile covering your face once you touched the soft fabric. "Thank you lando." "I'll see you at Parc Ferme yeah?" "Yeah." You nodded smiling.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Pretty cool, right?" Lando walked along side you, sneaking out of the track through some sort of back door to his car. "What's your address, I'll drop you off home." "Eh, don't worry about that, I cant take the bus from the hotel." "In this weather? No way." He looked at you, not giving you a choice. You only sighed as you typed the destination in the GPS.

That was only the start of a very fun car ride, pumped with music and screaming lyrics. You didn't want to get out when you finally arrived, but lando placed the paddock pass in your hand kissing your cheek. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Really? And What do I get in return? Supporting you through your race weekend." "A kiss?" "Tell you what, you get podium tomorrow and I'll give you a kiss."

landonorris

liked by pieregasly carlossainz55 and 10M others landonorris winner winner chicken dinner

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[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1984 Pontiac Fiero

When Pontiac brought the Fiero to pace the Indy 500 in 1984, they unloaded the first 4-cylinder pace car since 1912. It was also the fastest. This was done with a four-cylinder engine and a two-barrel carb.

Motor trend at the time:

"Not quite what you would expect from a diminutive 4-banger. When reported lap speeds of 138 mph started filtering around the speedway, you could hear the murmuring: "Man, that little turbo Fiero sure does run," and "They must be running that prototype V6." Not the case. In fact, the 138 mph lap averages have been achieved with a normally aspired 4-banger with a 2-barrel Holly carb. The engine package is a mild version of pontiac's Super Duty displaying 165 c.i.d and producing 232 horsepower. More is available, but the Fiero so far exceeds requirements now that the driveability (Which is excellent) need not be compromised."

[dollywheeler]

October 26th, 1996

[Harlan's Car And Motor, Camera 3, 10/26/1996, 00:32]

Grainy black-and-white security footage of a light-haired girl sitting on a curb next to a payphone in the right bottom of the frame. She’s wearing a dark skirt and knee-high boots with a white short-sleeved t-shirt, ripped at the hems. A black cardigan lays discarded by her feet, and her wrists and neck are covered with chains. Her elbows are propped up on her knees, head tilted slightly to the right as it rests on her hands. She’s gently swaying as she sits, but otherwise motionless.

There’s a sound of a car door slamming outside of the frame, followed by rushed footsteps and a sharp voice. “Holly!”

The girl’s head shoots up, eyes catching something outside the left of the frame. “Fi-nally.”

She starts to stand up, pushing herself up from the ground unsteadily, but a tall man with dark, curly hair runs into the screen and grabs her arm to help her get up. He’s wearing jeans and a sweater that doesn’t quite sit right, as if thrown on hastily.

"Holly- aren't you freezing?" He notes the cardigan by her feet and ducks down to grab it, dusting it off with a few flicks of his wrist before wrapping it around her shoulders in a quick move. The girl, Holly, rolls her head, clearly disoriented and miserable as she allows the man to drag her back towards the left side of the frame where, presumably, a car waits.

“What were you thinking?!"

“I didn’t want anyone to see me."

“You didn't-," He starts, exasperation clear in his voice and movements, "I just told you how dangerous it is to walk home on your own!”

Annoyed, voice slurred as she stops them in their tracks; “I-s Hawkins.”

“Exactly!” The man’s breathing intensifies as he turns towards her, clearly agitated. “You can’t just put your vanity over your own safety like this! If you didn’t want your friends to see you drunk you shouldn’t have gotten drunk!”

“Mike-.” Another man enters the frame, also wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. His hair is lighter and straight, his expression pinched with sympathy.

Before he can say anything else, Holly pushes Mike away, stumbling unsteadily on her feet without his support. “You think I’m vain?! And I didn’t-,”

Holly stops talking as her stumbling intensifies, turning towards the right side of the frame where the curb is lined with shrubbery. She takes a few steps closer to them before bending over, shaking as she’s clearly vomiting.

“Holly-,” Mike groans, as he moves forward to help steady her and pull her hair out of her face. The other man stands back, uncertain, before turning around and walking out of frame.

“I’m fine,” Holly mumbles as she straightens again. The light-haired man returns, holding a bottle of water. He screws it open, before stepping up to the other side of Holly and holding it out to her.

He asks; “Holly, at what time were you supposed to be home?”

She spits into the shrubbery. “I’m sleeping at Whitney’s.”

Mike and the other man exchange a look.

The light-haired man sighs, glancing at Holly as his face hardens with determination.

“Stay here, I’ll drive to Melissa’s to see if I can find Whitney.”

“What- no-“

“She might be worried, Holly!” Mike cuts in. “You left without saying anything and she's responsible for you.”

"No, Dylan is responsible for us.” Holly slurs, face twisting. “But she cancelled. She cancels a-lot.”

“Okay, Holzie, let’s sit down.” Mike guides Holly onto the curb. The other man sends Mike a look over her head, nodding before he walks back out of frame, followed by the sound of a car door slamming shut and an engine roaring to life.

Once Holly is fully sitting down again, Mike sits down next to her, elbows resting on his knees, hands twisting. His eyes follow something out of frame - most likely the car. His expression is hard to decipher in the grainy footage.

Holly leans her head against Mike’s right shoulder, eyes drooping shut, and at the touch Mike looks back toward her, the angle lighting his features as they darken.

"What were you thinking?"

Holly's face is turned into Mike's shoulder, her voice faint and barely caught by the camera's microphone. "Wasn’t."

Mike snorts, obviously still trying to remain angry. His left knee starts bouncing quickly in front of him. "Clearly."

"I didn't know it would feel like this."

"And yet, I'm sure you knew it's illegal."

“What?” She scoffs again, halfheartedly, “Are you going to report me?"

"I could - no I should - tell mom and dad."

Holly's shoulders hiccup, as if letting out a laugh, tone sarcastic as she pushes herself away from Mike, seemingly angry. "That would mean talking to them."

Mike’s head twists as if rolling his eyes, turning to keep her in his line of sight. “I talk to mom!"

"Sure." Holly's voice sounds tired, slowing down as she trails off. Mike sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He glances back towards the upper left corner of the frame, lifting his left wrist to look at his watch. His shoulders slump, before he turns back towards Holly. After a moment, he asks; "What are you even supposed to be dressed as?"

"The girls from The Craft!" Her voice sounds louder, as if offended, shaking the bracelets on her wrists. Distracted by her own jewellery, she drops her hands in her lap, toying with the charms. "It was Dylan's idea."

"Oh, okay. Sure." Catching sight of the bottle of water next to her, he nudges her shoulder. "Drink."

Holly's face scrunches up in distaste, but she picks up the bottle and does as ordered. After a few tentative sips, she puts it down again.

They continue to sit in silence as the clock on the screen shifts numbers, until a beam of light traces over them, causing Mike to perk up, gently shaking Holly's shoulder. "Will's back."

He stands up, offering his hands to Holly and pulling her up when she takes them. Holly wobbles on her feet and whines again.

"I don't feel-," She cuts herself off and turns away from Mike, returning to the shrubbery to vomit once more.

The engine continues running, but the light-haired man, Will, walks into frame again, keeping his distance.

"Is she still vomiting?" He frowns, eyeing the pair wearily. "At what point do we have to worry about dehydration?"

"She was fine until a moment ago." He groans. "Maybe she got up too fast."

"I"m sorry," Holly whines again, straightening up and pushing her hair out of her face. "This sucks."

"Let's just go home," Will sighs, urging her and Mike towards the car.

Mike opens the door for her, eyeing her wearily as he curses under his breath. "Damn it, Holly, if you vomit in our new car, you're cleaning it out."

"I won't! I promise!"

"I don't think that's a promise within your power to keep." Mike helps her into the back seat, and Holly disappears from view behind him. He takes another moment to look into the car, before finally turning away and closing the door.

He turns towards Will, who's standing a few steps to his right, watching with a frown. Their eyes meet, and they seem to hold a conversation without speaking. Eventually Will tilts his head and shrugs, carefully, and Mike lets out a heavy sigh.

"What are we even doing here?"

Seemingly reluctant, a smile blooms over Will's face, letting out a chuckle as he reaches out to grab Mike's hand. He pulls Mike with him as he takes a step back, squeezing his hand in a quick, practiced move, before dropping it again. Mike keeps his gaze as Will continues walking around the car to the driver's side, both now grinning widely.

Opening the passenger door, Mike shakes his head and sighs again, before breaking his gaze from Will's and dropping into the front seat. The door slams shut behind him, only a second before the driver's side does the same, and the screen stays unmoving for a couple of seconds before the car takes a wide turn and disappears from view.

The frame is empty again, except for its usual sight, everything still and unmoving except for the occasional branch twitching in the wind and the numbers in the bottom left of the screen counting upwards.

[Harlan's Car And Motor, Camera 3, 10/26/1996, 01:13]

[mcgnagallsarmy]

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #26: Ready & Go Reading Challenge

A fic set in the woods:

Promise of Frost by Eurydice [NC-17]

When a snowstorm strands Buffy and Spike, they are forced to turn to each other for strength, especially when a missing Giles, mysterious visitors, and way too much magic threatens to turn it into a not so very merry Christmas. Set mid-S4.

A fic involving a creative outlet:

Chiaroscuro by OffYourBird [R]

At first, Buffy wasn’t even sure it was him. He was all the way across the gallery, far enough that he was reduced to chiaroscuro in motion—a shock of white hair swathed in rich black leather, his eyes dark and glittering and his skin nearly ivory in the bright gallery lights.

A fic featuring food you have not tried:

Hunger by Sunalso [NC-17]

AU. Spike killed his third Slayer, but Dru was already dust. He's been lost, but when his supper turns out to be more than he bargained for, it leaves him hungry for something else instead. And Buffy? She's just hungry.

A fic involving a train ride:

Vernalagnia by violettathepiratequeen [G]

Vernalagnia: A romantic mood brought on by spring. One that even Angel doesn't dare try to get in the middle of.

A graphic novel:

D-straction Day: All Night Long by HappyWhenItRains [Adult Only]

COMIC: Buffy stops by the crypt to see if Spike wants to go patrolling. He does not.

A fic involving ghosts:

Wine-Colored by OffYourBird [NC-17]

There are so many shades of red, but Buffy sticks to the one she knows best.

A fic set on a bus:

A Place to Call Home by all_choseny [NC-17]

Buffy and Spike have beaten The First, and the Hellmouth is closed for good. Now, at the precipice of a new beginning, the pair must decide to finally give love a chance or walk away from each other for good.

A fic where a main character seeks self-improvement:

Reprise by Holly [NC-17]

Spike came back to life and didn’t bother to tell her. Then he died again before she could chew him out. Buffy makes a wish in front of the right kind of demon to set things right and finds herself propelled back to the darkest period of her life.

A fic featuring a (motor)bike ride:

Open Road by HappyWhenItRains [NC-17]

Life Serial takes Buffy and Spike some places neither of them ever expected to go. We, of course, expected it. They did not.

A fic set in or involving something industrial (factory, etc.):

Death Wish by Sigyn [NC-17]

“World is what it is. We fight and we die. Wishing doesn't change that. You can believe in a better world. I have to live in this one.” Anyanka’s wish was broken, but the world it created continues. Now Buffy must join forces with rebel vampires to create a world they can all stand to live in. But can Spike, Drusilla and Angel actually work with a hardened slayer, who would just as soon see them all dust?

A fic involving a plane ride:

Nevertime by anaross [R]

They lost. But they lived. Spike, Blue, and Angel head north to the Arctic to escape the demons set loose in Not Fade Away. (Don't worry... Buffy finds them.)

A fic set in a snow land:

West of the Moon, East of the Sun by KnifeEdge [NC-17]

I keep having the strangest dream. Every night it's the same thing: a dark room, a big bed, and a silent vampire that I can feel, but not see. I'd be wigged, except it's just a dream, right? It'll be a cold day in hell before I ever willingly sleep with a vampire again...

A fic set in a country other than your own:

Favor by EllieRose101 [NC-17]

Spike asks an impossible thing of Buffy––and is stunned when she says yes. Could he really have gone up in her estimation?

A fic featuring a garden:

Unspoken by anaross [R]

"I've always envisioned him giving Buffy a garden that he could never go to in the daytime, to give her something alive for a change." James Marsters.

A fic set in a museum:

Just to Reach You by Sunalso [R]

Post-Series. Spike and Buffy have been a couple for almost two years. The honeymoon is over and together they're discovering they still have a lot to learn about themselves, each other, and how this whole "normal" relationship thing works.

A fic set in a hotel:

A Totally Random Occurrence by Herself [NC-17]

The stake slipped from her fingers, and she had to take a deep breath to stave off the dizziness descending on her like a hood over her head. "You—I thought you were dead." A reunion in New York City. Set post-NFA, spoilers for all of BtVS and AtS.

A fic involving an escape:

The Writing on the Wall by Holly [NC-17]

There was no body to bury. There was no funeral. There was nothing but the three rules and the knowledge that a thousand years of torment was nothing compared to a world without her in it. Spike embarks on a journey through the Gates of Hell to rescue the one he loves, but in order to save her, he must risk losing himself.

A fic set underground or underwater:

Ten Minutes by FlightsofFancy [R]

Buffy, alone, looking for Oz in the Initiative. She only has ten minutes. She finds someone else. Life of a hero, impossible odds.

A fic involving a road trip:

Ties to the World by honeygirl51885 [NC-17]

Spike is gone, but before he went out in a blaze of glory, he slipped a letter into Buffy’s pocket. That letter takes her on a road trip across America, visiting his ties to the world.

[lostloveletters]

hi! ive been thinking about woody and brady so often lately, i love the fic you wrote about them! do you have any headcanons for them or any little stories?

Y'all are too nice to me I'm gonna cry🥲 Thank you so much!! Some of these are gonna feature in the next fic I'm going to post for them!

Sometimes Woody calls him "Johnny" when it's just the two of them! His pet name for her is "sweetheart." He doesn't totally get why she doesn't like going by her first name but he respects it

As soon as they can tell their feelings are mutual, they act on it. Holly's the only one who knows (and it kills her to not tell Bucky, but girl code above all else), so they're together for a lot longer than most people think when it does come out (probably not until the stalag when Brady has a photo of Woody with him and everyone's like when? did this happen?). They're good at being subtle about it which is a feat considering Woody stains like everything with grease or motor oil or something

They are absolutely that couple who will side-eye in sync like "Do you hear/see this shit?" Very good at nonverbal communication across the room

He teaches her how to dance because that's not something she's really done. She definitely didn't go to dances in high school (who has money for a nice dress anyway) and as soon as she got her diploma she was living on-and-off in the desert with a variety of questionable people. He's super patient with her, and it's a great excuse to hold her close🤭

She's thinks it's the coolest thing that he got his degree in music and played like professionally before the war. That's her opener when talking about him or introducing him to people. Not even that he's a bomber pilot, but that he plays the saxophone and is super smart

🦇 Battie

[artemis-fowl-incident-report]

Down time day!

These are just all the ones I could think of off the top of my head. I might add more later:

Artemis: I feel like Artemis, during his recovery time post resurrection, got kind of into gaming. Artemis has never been the kind of person to relax or indulge in leisure time that wasn't serving some greater purpose. However, given his motor skills were so poor, and Butler/Angeline/Holly were keeping a very close eye on him, he takes up a few games to keep his brain from imploding. He prefers games with puzzles/problem solving at their core, but also appreciates the more experimental narrative elements. Its actually quite a good way for him to connect with his brothers.

Holly: Being such a busy lady, Holly doesn't have time for many hobbies, but I think one of her main ones would be cooking. Cooking in the Short house hold used to be a whole family affair, and she treasures her mothers recipe book dearly (she can also hear her mothers complaints in her head every time she leaves the house with only a nettle smoothie for breakfast because that is not a proper meal, young lady!)

Butler: Thanks to Minerva, Butler spends the bulk of his down time reading, but he also had a hobby that's branched off from that: writing. He has a lot of interesting life experiences to pull from, so a lot of them are action narratives or mysteries/thrillers. It takes him a while to show anyone, but the first person he does is Juliet, since one of his main characters is based off her. One "Rosaline Valet".

Juliet: Oddly, Juliet has been crocheting for decades! It was always something she could do in-between things like training or school, and you best believe she makes Butler's baldy head a new hat every Christmas.

No1: No1 seems to have a new hobby every week. Pottery, weaving, knitting. He always needs something to do with his hands.

Foaly: In his younger years, its actually canon that Foaly used to paint (thank you side novels) but he wasn't very good at it. I feel like he would pick it up again after he and Caballine started dating. He initially did it because she's a sculptor, and he wanted to seem cool to her. But eventually found that he wanted to do it just for himself. He's still not great, but he doesn't mind.

Mulch: Dancing. Well, specifically, dwarven traditional dancing. In my mind, its something like jet powered Russian dancing, and is brought out at all family events.

[boxwinebaddie]

also, in regards ( my condolences ) to this post, i am also humbly offering this insane asylum brain-dump on hypothetical racecar kyle

aka #sasscar kyle

who the sports commentators call 'the jersey devil' ( as in the devil went down to ) because he is the human embodiment of road rage and is not afraid to run right you off it -- with his car or his mouth.

which is aaaalways running...and fast! because that man's loco-motor ( he's insane ) runs solely off spite, on ice cold sprite and has a wicked god complex, so he gets off on picking stupid, petty fights with other drivers / betting insane high aces before races...just to see the dumb, shitdick look on ur face when he puts you in your place ( second <3 ) or the e.r. if you red-cross him <3 ( his ride is your local blood drive )

'them' being extreme sports commentators who, re: the jersey devil nickname, hiss when they see him a shake a competitor's hand ( with his cool, suede, jade leather glove, tyvm! ) because he's a known Pit Viper but instead of a knife in your back or a nail in your coffin, it's in your tire and they're mimicking the sound it makes as it deflates and you slowly...asphyxiate. pls note: they also call him 'break check' bc if you haven't checked your breaks, dw; he'll do it for you! ( aww!!! ) <3

tldr; kyle broflovski...can and will do Anything to win. after all, if you're not first; you're last. and in the immortal words of rascal flatts: life is a motherfucking highway, baby! if your foots not on the gas, your ass is GRASS, motherfucker! like, trust and believe, i love miss holly, ( she's my girl ), but with all due respect, this isn't 'the scenic route'...

this is DRAG RACING, bitch! so either get fast, get serious or Switch Lanes before wiley kyley b gets Furious, passes you with one hand -- he's flipping you off with the other one -- and verbally eviscerates you so viscously from his rear view mirror that you instantly start crying,

the shitsandstorm of dust he left you in coats your lungs, you begin to claw and choke, your grip on the wheel slips, your head tips, reality dips before you know it or can pull over, you're done: you lose control of the car, crydroplane out of place and crash into the wall. HARD.

with that said, the question remains...

Are We Making Girl Scout Cookies...

Or Are We Making

A.

Goddamn.

DEAL,

S w e e t h e a r t ?

;)

[scotianostra]

On January 28th 1908 Jimmy Shand, Scottish country dance band leader was born.

Shand was a musician who played traditional Scottish dance music on the accordion.

Born James Shand in East Wemyss in Fife, son of a farm ploughman turned miner. One of nine children, they soon moved to the burgh of Auchtermuchty.The town is also known as the birthplace of the brothers Charlie and Craig Reid of The Proclaimers and now boasts a larger than life-sized sculpture of Shand. His father was a skilled melodeon player. Jimmy started with the mouth organ and soon played the fiddle. At the age of 14 he had to leave school and go down the mines. He played at social events and competitions. His enthusiasm for motor-bikes turned to an advantage when he played for events all round Fife. In 1926 he did benefit gigs for striking miners and was consequently prevented from returning to colliery work.

One day Jimmy and a friend were admiring the instruments in the window of Forbes' Music Shop in Dundee. His friend said "It wouldn't cost you to try one". Jimmy walked in and strapped on an accordion. The owner heard Jimmy and immediately offered him a job as travelling salesman and debt-collector. He soon acquired a van and drove all over the north of Scotland. He switched to the British chromatic button accordion, an instrument he stuck with for the rest of his life.

Shand failed an audition for the BBC because he kept time with his foot. At a time when gramophones were very much luxury items he made two records for the Regal Zonophone label in 1933. His career took off when he switched to making 78s for the Beltona label between 1935 and 1940. Most of the Beltona recordings were solo, but he experimented with small bands. This boosted sales. He appeared in a promo film shown in cinemas. While the image showed his fingers moving in a blur, Jimmy was disappointed to hear the sound track playing a slow air.

Jimmy was prevented from joining the RAF by a digestive disorder, and spent the war years in the Fire Service. On New Year's morning 1945 he made his first broadcast with "Jimmy Shand and Band". This was the first of many such BBC radio and television appearances.

After the war he became a full-time musician and adopted a punishing life-style later adopted by rock bands. He would play Inverness one night, London the next night and still drive the van back, at breakneck speed, to bed in Dundee.

He took his trademark bald head, Buddy Holly specs and full kilted regalia, Scottish reels, waltzes, jigs and strathspeys to North America, Australia and New Zealand, including Carnegie Hall in New York

In 1972 he went into semi-retirement. From then he played only small venues in out of the way places for a reduced fee. He was made a freeman of Auchtermuchty in 1974, North East Fife in 1980 and Fife in 1998. He became Sir Jimmy Shand in 1999. His portrait is in the Scottish National Gallery, close to Niel Gow.

In 1983 Jimmy released a retrospective album with the cheeky title "The First 50 years". At the age of 88 he recorded an album and video with his son, "Dancing with the Shands".

More than 330 compositions are credited to Jimmy Shand. He recorded more tracks than the Beatles and Elvis Presley combined. In 1985, British Rail named a locomotive Jimmy Shand.

Dissatisfied with the chromatic button-key accordions available on the market in the 1940s so he designed his own one. The Hohner company still manufactures the "Shand Morino" to his specifications.

The statue, as I earlier said is in Auchtermuchty, there is also a memorial in East Wemyss/

How many of you out there remember doing "Strip theWillow" during our school years, or even after at a cèilidh

[alpha-mag-media]

Alan Shearer’s stunning daughter Hollie shows off toned abs as she puts on home fashion show for her fans | In Trend Today

Alan Shearer’s stunning daughter Hollie shows off toned abs as she puts on home fashion show for her fans Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[ur-mag]

Alan Shearer’s stunning daughter Hollie shows off toned abs as she puts on home fashion show for her fans | In Trend Today

Alan Shearer’s stunning daughter Hollie shows off toned abs as she puts on home fashion show for her fans Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

[jessilynallendilla]

Dylan Hollis Baking Quotes Without Context Part 6

“We’re using it in linguini form, which I’ve never seen-eugh" 

“Dates are inevitable” 

“I don’t know where this is going, I don’t think I want to” 

“You mix this up to make it all green and disgusting. Charming” 

“This is just not right” 

“Now we’re going to plate this monstrosity” 

~”Peaches and linguini. Hearts of palm. Dates too~” 

“Now on goes our frozen swamp cream” 

“These are fresh eggs. From the business end of the chicken” 

“Ooh it’s wet!” 

“This is roughly four cups of crumbs and tears from artisan bread makers” 

“Now into a separate bowl goes two chicken eggs. Well, thank heavens you specified, I was at risk of using my locally sourced ostrich eggs” 

“We start with two large packs of lemon Jello because one would be too easy and three’s a felony” 

“Once you get to this color you are severely dehydrated” 

“Lemon lime fever dream” 

“Pour this into something, preferably the garbage” 

“This person has been to a dark place.” “Ugh it lingers.” “Seen bad things.” 

“You hear that, Henry?” tosses skeleton. “Long live Christmas!” 

“Make sure to take off the diapers, not very nutritious.” 

“Optional cup of chocy chips. Optional my ass!” 

“If you leave it in too long you risk pregnancy” 

“I call that a cup. No need to be precise, your in-laws will still find a way to insult you.” 

“We don’t cook with pot hash anymore for the same reasons we don't attempt to cure indigestion with lobotomies” 

Sheri is the popery of liquor. It was once very fashionable back when people bathed once a week and wondered why there were rats in their wigs.” 

“Smells really festive, like Febreze in a crypt” 

“Just a tablespoon of rum.” pours whole bottle, proceeds to drunkenly stumble into oven. 

“This looks like I microwaved a squirrel.” 

“Are you supposed to eat this for Christmas or for punishment?” 

“I’m sure people loved it back then when they ate lead paint and wood chips.” 

“You don’t have to use the whole box, you can beat a few and suck on the rest.” 

“Sorry I’m late I took the wrong exit at Cape Canaveral and ended up getting probed for free.” 

“Oh boy it’s butter on butter, nobody tell Paula Dean, she’ll bust in like the Kool-Aid Man” 

“Apparently these are named after the seed of the Buckeye tree which kills humans and cattle. Ohio you do you.” 

“Oh, the fifties, where when breakfast was a verb, baseball was relevant, and I would have had to have a wife” 

“Pinch of salt-”spills it-”Screams” 

“This looks like 10W40” 

“You can still buy powdered creamer if you like the taste of wood glue” 

“Finally alternate adding the dry and the motor oil” 

“For years I have searched for a gelatin mold that is edible and for years I have done so in vain” 

“C’mon Pepto!” 

“This book contains five secret cornbread recipes believed to be the lost sacred texts of Nebraska. Bake them all, die!” 

“Two boxes of cornbread mix. By the power of the Midwest!” 

“Sprinkle with water to avoid dry spots. What type of Nebraska voodoo is this?” 

“It reeks!” 

Stressed laughter “My house smalls like Hidden Valley.” 

[hirik0]

Bad Reputation part 4

Ghost/Soap | NSFW: Mastrubastion

Soap apologised to all of the Privates and he is sure Ghost will hear about it. They haven't really talked about it, but Soap goes to their usall training session with Ghost. Ghost said he can improve his knives skill a bit more. When he walks in the area Ghost is already waiting for him.

"I heared from the Privates", Ghost says while pushing himself of the wall. Soap hears the approval in Ghost voice and he relaxes at this.

"Was training them with Gaz so why pushing it of", Soap answers taking the training knife Ghost is giving him. Waiting for Ghost to pull out a second one but Ghost doesn't.

"Do some tricks", Ghost simply says giving him his full attention. Soap is suddenly very self conscious, it feels like his skin is vibrating. He makes a fool out if himself fumbling with the training knife like he never held one before. Letting it drop to the floor, technically stapping and cutting himself and the more he fails the more nervous he got what let's to more mistakes.

"You can do better then that Johnny", Ghost comments his pitty attempts of doing tricks. Soap takes a deep breath chossing to do a lame beginner trick, throwing the knife in the air and catching it by the tip. He catches it ones, twice, three times in the row getting him more confident and relaxed, throwing it over his shoulder catching it, feeling confident with doing this.

"Stop", Ghost orders and he catches it one final time. As if he saw everything he needs to see by now and he dont sound like he really like Soaps poor attempts. Ghost takes the knife back and is giving him a coin instead. He looks at the coin waiting for instructions but Ghost is not giving him any. The only think he knows for sure is that Ghost probably don't want him to flip the coin.

"I don't know what to do", Soap admits when Ghost still haven't giving any instructions.

"Never played with coins?, Ghost asks, voice neutral before taking the coin in his hand. He places it between pointer and middel finger and in one smooth motion moves in between his ring and little pinkie and back. Soap takes the coin back trying to do the same. After several attempts he made it one way.

"You lag fine motoric in your fingers, Soap", Ghost says while taking the coin back. The frustration of the training are pressing against Soaps self-control.

"I don't", he disagrees sounding like a pouting child. Ghost just gives him a raised eyebrow for that, clearly waiting for more explanation.

"Never had anyone complain over what my fingers can do before", Soap simply says now really pouting.

"Could still get even better", Ghost simply says and Soap feels anger bubble up.

"Can't even know that", Soap snaps the frustration audible.

Ghost smirks at this before asking: "Want to show me?" He sees Soap ears turn red, blinking dumbfounded trying to say something but his mouth just opens and closes with out a sound. Letting Soap find a answer preparing what he wants to say next, he wants to rail Soap up. He knows he shouldn't, but its all thought about while being away was how to bring up this sexual tension between them. Not what he thought it would happen like this but well, he takes what he gets.

"So you are tell me I'm not good enough?", Soap finally answers the redbess spreading fto his face tand Ghost cant help thinking that its adorable.

"Maybe, who knows", Ghost simply answers shruging.

"You're full of shit, LT", Soap says getting a amused chuckel.

"Maybe I'm just more experienced, Soap", is the last thing he says before leaving the Gym. Soap needs a few minutes till his brain is sure he didn't misheard Ghost. Holly fucking shit did this really just happened? Does Ghost really wants him to show how skilled he is in that area? How does he even does that? He can't stop thinking about it on the way back to his room. When he enters his room he has somesort of a plan, its a stupid plan, its inappropriate but he doesn't care.

He gets the nearly empty lube bottel out of his nightstand before sitting down on the bed. He needs to plan this a bit, what he exactly wants to do and how to show Ghost. He stripes out of his shirt, socks and pants keeping the boxers on for now. He looks back at his phone and takes a start photo just him on his bed in boxers. He starts to slowly rub over his clothed dick, trying to come up with a fantasy. Thinking about what Ghost will do when he gets his texts and the photos. Honestly the feeling of this being forbidden turns him on even more. He's feels how he's getting hard thinking more about Ghost reaction, would Ghost use the pictures for his own pleasure? God he hopes so, he takes another picture when his dick is fully hard, still in his boxers outlines clearly visible, putting the phone on the nightstand for now.

He slowly pulls down his boxers stroking over his hard cock. He thinks about what Ghost would do to him, if it would be hard and fast or slow and patient. Ghost is a sniper and often on long solo missions he properly would be ridiculous patient just to fuck with him. He squeeze the rest of the lube out the bottel, warming it up. Slow and patient it is then, atleats at the beginning. While he warms up the lubes of his fingers he's looking for a good postion to finger himself. He lubes up his entrance being generous, imagine the fingers are Ghosts. He pushes the first finger in while still thinking of what Ghost would do. He closes his eyes and fantasy Ghost is apearing trying to start this with what they talked about in the gym. Finger flexibility and peopel not complaining, Soap chews on his lower lip. That's would mean Ghost would only give him the finger in his ass right, shit he never cum like this before, he did it to others, bit he can't never find the perfect angle when doing it to himself. Well games on now whith the next push in he adds another finger. He carefully stretches himself ignoring finding his prostate for now. While he still moves his fingers in and out he continues to fantasies. Making something up on his own always did more to him then watching porn he trys to figure out how Ghost would act in this situation. Would he be talkative or being his stonic self? Would he give praise or would he say mean things? Would he want him to beg or just knows what to do to destroy his partner? Soap starts to build his fantasy Ghost, giving rare praise when he thinks he should staying silence otherwise that and a mix of making Soap beg and just figuring it out by reading body language. And the mask would stay on, honestly he thinks Ghost would stay mostly clothed a totally nacked Soap infront of him. He rubs over his prostate a low moan leaving his mouth. Maybe if Ghost is generous his mouth is not covered, but besides this the clothes stay on. Soap is losing himself in the fantasy, rubing over his prostate with three finger by now.

"What did you say about your finger work?", fantasy Ghost is wispering in his ear, the Manchester accent a lot more prominent, the voice raspy and deeper as usal. A shiver is running down Soaps body, his breath coming in pants by now. Cum is running down his dick, but he totally ignores it, Ghost would not allow it, so he can't do it. Clever fingers doing all the right movements, fingering himself never felt so intense before. Fantasy Ghost is kissing over his shoulder bitting where shoulder meets the neck. He feels how his orgasm is slowly building up and he needs to claw the sheets with his free hand to not give in and stroke himself. He hears fantasy Ghost chuckel when he sees it.

"Trying so hard to be good aren't you Johnny?" Soap nods in the empty room, not trusting himself to nod moan to loudly for the thin walls if he opens his mouth. Sweat is running down his spine and he shifts on his knees a bit. When he twist his wrist a sertain way he has to cover his mouth with his free hand, shit this was good. Maybe Ghost is right and there are still thinks to learn. His cheeks are a nice shade of pink, he has to cover his mouth to muffel his noice and he still trys to hold out longer. Not wanting this to stop to soon. Heat is collecting in his lower abdomen and his legs are starting to shake, with the effort to keep going. His dick is constantly leaking cum, that starts to run down the shaft.

"Please", he wispers his begging in the room, he can't any longer. Ghost smirk against his shoulder. The hand that's still cover his mouth is running down his torso, setting his skin on fire where ever he barely touches himself. When he goes with his thumb over the tip of his dick its nearly over, but fantasy Ghost is still teasing him, just because he can. Tears are gather in Soaps eyes, while he teases himself further, smearing the cum over his tip, a high pitched wimper leaving him. The littel bit of blood that's not currently in his hard cock is causing a nice blush that's slowly spreading down to his chest.

"I think you deserve a littel reward", the husky voice of fantasy Ghost is wispering. Soap gets one down stroke of his dick before his orgasm is exploding. Bitting the inside of his cheek to stay silent, his legs shaking, thick ropes of cum covering his chest, mixing with the sweat film that's covering his whole body. He falls to the site on his pillow, trying to catch his breath, a tear running down his cheek while he slowly blinks his eyes open.

He reaches for the tissues getting both of his hands clean for now, using one arm to cover his eyes. Holy shit this was intense, he can't rember coming this hard by just himself ever. His heart is racing his lungs try to get all the air in that's possible. He graps his phone taking a photo with his face and the cum covered chest visible, the he starts to shiver the sweat layer cooling him down. Time to clean up and get in his sleeping clothes. A welcoming feeling of satisfaction is spreading through Soap while he's wiping the cum of his chest. He needs more fantasies like this, when the time allows it. He gets dressed in a clean pair of boxers and a old t-shirt, laying down on his bed opening the chat with Ghost. He's getting a bit nervous sending this to your CO is a good way to get into trouble.

🧼: 3 picutes

🧼: no problem with my finger flexibility 😉

He puts the phone away getting ready falling asleep.

Ghost got waken up by two phone notifications. He makes a annoyed sound surprisingly he was able to fall asleep. He lights up the screen getting blinded by the how bright it is. Soap sent 3 pictures and a text. He reads the notification of the text several times. He is convinced he's still sleeping because Soap surely would not do this, right? He unlocks the phone opening the app and fucking hell Soap did do it. He looks at the first two pictures, nothing to exiting, just Soap in his underwear with a visible erection coverd by his boxers, but the third? He clicks on it to make it bigger. The first think he notices is that tears ran down Soap face. His cheeks are red, so is his neck and chest. Ghost mouth runs dry. He looks up again seeing the pleased smile on Soaps face and that his usaly bright blue eyes are deep black oceans. He must have taken the picture right after his orgasm. Ghost is half hard by now and he looks down hissing when he sees the robes of cum, that are in such a contrast to the redish skin. No doubt Soap had a good time. He should tell Soap to delete the pictures and to never sent something like this ever again, he really should. But he doesn't he saves the picture of post orgasm Soap and fully hard Soap. Makes a special folder that's password secured, his cheeks are burning. Shame is washing over him, killing his erection instantly.

💀: need to show me next time.

He looks at what he sent back god what is he thinking and with what is he thinking not with his brain for sure.

💀: delete the pictures out of the chat

💀: talk tomorrow

[ifideliadaworld-blog]

There's the climax! The mystery of the celestial dragon (Celestiarus) has been solved: the dialogue is under this part🙌😎

(Oleg Ivanov, connecting his neuro-translator): You took a lot of risks helping me escape from there... now I know: I can trust your group. You really call this place a "dragon", don't you?🫡 (Gwizdo, listening to the whisper of the neuro-transtator): Ahem... YEAH! That's exactly what we are, kind man! Right now your dragonwhale is trying to bite our world from the edges. But what's wrong with that inner village?"😇 (Oleg Ivanov, still connecting his neuro-translator): We'll have to stop them… I was the last one to wake up from cryosleep here: the magnetic motor must have powered my capsule for thousands of years. The asteroid village is inhabited by the distant descendants of my colleagues from different countries… while I was unconscious, they turned this hollow magnetic rock into a self-organizing ship. Of course, those who replaced them have gone wild, and revere the insatiable electronic brain as a Deity... demanding human sacrifices. You are my chance to put an end to this horror!😬 (Gwizdo, listening to the whisper of the neuro-transtator): Holly macarony, there are so many unfamiliar words. Ahem, YES, we're ready to help somehow here, but… then what?😏 (Oleg Ivanov): I'll give you my little house. My cave is entirely made of gold nugget, that's why it's so bright here. Although it's hard to sleep without a towel on my face😵‍💫

Inktober-2024, №2: "Discover"

P.S. The challenge is over but I still want to continue this story to the glorious ending💫