#catch winter suspended bass

[devanbald]

Mastering Bass Fishing Throughout the Year: Expert Seasonal Techniques for Every Angler

Bass fishing is exhilarating, offering anglers the thrill of landing one of the most sought-after freshwater game fish. But bass behavior is anything but predictable, changing throughout the year in response to shifting water temperatures, food availability, and seasonal cycles. Adjusting your strategy to align with these changes is essential for anglers hoping to land trophy bass regardless of the season. Whether it’s spring feeding frenzy or winter's slow bite, mastering year-round bass fishing techniques can elevate your experience on the water. This guide will explore expert strategies tailored to each season.

The Seasonal Shift: How Bass Behavior Changes Throughout the Year

Bass are cold-blooded creatures, meaning their body temperature and metabolic rate are directly influenced by the water temperature around them. As a result, their feeding habits, movement patterns, and overall activity change with the seasons. Understanding how these changes affect bass behavior is the first step in becoming a more versatile and successful angler.

In warm seasons, bass are more active and chase fast-moving prey. In contrast, cooler months cause them to slow down, and they seek comfort in deeper waters. Each season offers a unique set of challenges but ample opportunity for those who can adapt their tactics.

Spring: The Pre-Spawn Build-Up and Spawning Rituals

Spring is widely regarded as the prime time for bass fishing. The bass enters the pre-spawn phase as water temperatures rise to the 50°F-70°F range. During this time, both male and female bass move from deeper waters into the shallows to prepare for spawning. This period provides the best opportunities to catch large, aggressive bass.

In the pre-spawn phase, bass are driven by the need to bulk up before spawning. They are often found in transitional areas such as the edges of drop-offs, creek mouths, and submerged structures. Anglers can capitalize on this period using crankbaits, spinnerbaits, and jerk baits that imitate baitfish, as bass aggressively feeds in preparation for the spawn.

Once bass start spawning, they shift focus from feeding to protecting their nests. During the spawn, the bass (particularly males) stay close to their beds, guarding eggs from predators. Slow presentations using soft plastics, like Senkos or crawfish imitations, can trigger strikes from protective males.

After the spawn, bass tends to be fatigued and scatter into deeper waters. However, the post-spawn period still offers excellent fishing opportunities as they gradually regain energy. During this time, topwater lures and soft swimbaits can prove effective, particularly in the early morning or late evening when bass return to shallower waters to feed.

Summer: Fishing in the Heat

As summer sets in, bass faces increasing water temperatures exceeding 75°F. This temperature rise can make daytime fishing more difficult, as bass move to deeper, cooler waters to avoid the heat. Understanding the summer heat's effects and how to adapt your techniques can still yield great results during the hottest months of the year.

Fishing during the early morning and late evening is essential during summer, as this is when the water is cooler and bass are more active. Topwater baits such as poppers, buzz baits, and frogs excel in low-light conditions, enticing surface strikes from bass hunting in shallow waters.

As the sun climbs and temperatures rise, bass moves to deeper, more comfortable environments. Anglers will find more success targeting areas with deep structures, such as ledges, points, and submerged timber. Deep-diving crankbaits, Carolina rigs, and drop shot rigs are the go-to when fishing deeper water. The key during summer is patience, as bass tend to be less aggressive in extreme heat.

Pay attention to the thermocline—the layer of water where the temperature changes sharply with depth. Bass often suspend just above or within the thermocline, seeking the optimal combination of oxygen and comfort. Fishing just above this layer with slower presentations will increase your odds of a bite during the peak of summer.

Fall: The Season of Abundance

As water temperatures drop in the fall, bass instinctively feed heavily to prepare for winter. This season is characterized by abundant food, including baitfish, crawfish, and insects, making fall one of the best times to target bass. Unlike in summer, bass are much more willing to chase down prey in cooler waters.

Look for baitfish schools during the fall—bass will rarely be far behind. Fast-moving lures like lipless crankbaits, spinnerbaits, and swimbaits are excellent for imitating baitfish and triggering aggressive strikes. Covering a lot of water with these search baits is a good strategy, as fall bass tend to move frequently in search of food.

During the fall, bass are likely found in transitional zones, such as points, flats, and creek channels. Bass will follow schools of shad or other baitfish into these areas, making them prime fishing locations. As the season progresses and water temperatures continue to cool, bass will begin to retreat into deeper waters for the winter. Switching to slower, deeper presentations as the temperature drops will ensure you stay on top of them.

Winter: Slowing Down for the Cold Months

Winter is often the most challenging season for bass fishing. As water temperatures drop below 50°F, bass become lethargic, feeding less frequently and spending most of their time in deeper, warmer water. However, winter bass fishing can still be rewarding with the right approach.

Slowing down your presentation is key during the winter. Lures such as jigs, blade baits, and suspending jerk baits are effective when fished slowly along the bottom or through the water column. Anglers should focus on deeper structures, such as rock piles, drop-offs, and submerged trees, where bass gather during colder months.

Because bass are less willing to chase fast-moving prey in winter, keeping your lure in the strike zone for longer is important. Fishing slower and using smaller baits, such as finesse worms or hair jigs, can tempt cold, inactive bass into biting.

Winter fishing also rewards anglers who pay close attention to weather patterns. On sunny days, shallow waters near rock or vegetation can warm enough to attract bass looking for warmer temperatures. Focus on these areas during midday, when the sun is at its peak, for a better chance of landing a fish.

Year-Round Gear Considerations

Seasonal strategies require the right gear to maximize your success on the water. In colder months, lighter lines and more sensitive rods are essential for detecting subtle bites. Fluorocarbon line, in particular, offers increased sensitivity and invisibility underwater, making it ideal for winter and early spring fishing.

In contrast, summer and fall often call for heavier tackle. Braided lines are perfect for fishing heavy cover or deep structure, offering the strength to haul bass out of dense vegetation. Topwater fishing during summer mornings can be enhanced using monofilament, which floats and allows optimal lure action.

Finally, consider the size and speed of your reel. Higher gear ratios are ideal for fast-moving baits in the spring and fall, while slower gear ratios will give you the control needed to fish deep water during the summer and winter.

Year-round bass fishing is an art that requires a deep understanding of seasonal patterns and the flexibility to adjust your tactics as conditions change. Whether you’re battling summer heat, enticing sluggish winter bass, or capitalizing on the spring and fall-feeding frenzies, these strategies will give you the tools to stay ahead of the game. With the right gear, patience, and a little finesse, every season offers the potential for success. Happy fishing!

[fishingwithdaniel]

Top Techniques for Bass Fishing

It's impossible to cover all the techniques in a single article due to their vast number. However, we'll mention a few and provide references for more detailed discussions on the subjects.

Using Spinnerbaits near wooden cover. One of the simplest baits to use for bass fishing is the spinnerbait. All you need to do is attach one and cast it out, then reel it in. If you're in shallow water, opt for lighter spinnerbaits and fish at a quicker pace. Conversely, in deeper waters, heavier spinnerbaits are preferable, and you can reel them in slowly to catch less active bass.

However, a spinnerbait is relatively snag-free when used around wooden cover, and if the water is clear or even murky, the spinnerbait provides a vibration that bass can detect when visibility is low. During spring, using a Colorado blade spinnerbait around shallow wood is an excellent method to hook large bass. Pay attention to cover, water clarity, and quickly move from one spot to another.

Frogs on dense vegetation. During the hotter seasons, when the grass is at its peak, a frog can successfully lure bass from their hiding spots. Regardless, it's one of the most enjoyable catches in bass fishing. So, equip yourself with a sturdy rod, a braided line, and your preferred hollow-bodied frog. Then, simply manipulate it with brief jerks of your rod tip to make the frog create a splash on the vegetation surface, attracting the bass upwards. The best advice is to pause for a moment after the bite before pulling with such force that you risk breaking the rod.

Utilizing Ned Rigs and Shaky Heads in transparent water. When you're casually fishing along the shoreline and there's not much observable cover. There's still stuff beneath the water. However, if the water is quite clear, bass can be easily scared. With a lightweight Ned Rig or shaky head, you can attach a small plastic worm to a jighead, make extensive casts, and gradually crawl, hop, and jiggle your worm to lure bass. Shaky heads and ned rigs attract a lot of bites from fish of all sizes.

Utilizing Drop Shot Worms in deep clear water bodies. When fish become wary due to overfishing or frequent use of forceful techniques, a drop shot can significantly increase your catch. The trick is to minimize its movement. Gently drag it until it reaches a rock or stump, then maneuver it around the obstacle. Continue dragging it along. This method is also effective for catching suspended fish by simply lowering it to their level and keeping it absolutely motionless.

Utilizing Texas Rigged Plastics for fishing in cover. To increase your bass catch, it's advisable to master the Texas rig technique with plastic worms. You can use this method in various environments such as grass, wood, docks, etc. The versatility of a plastic worm is unmatched. Simply cast the worm and use your rod to lift it and let it drop. Repeat this process, ensuring to take up any slack before lifting it again. During winter, this method may be less effective, but jigs and craw trailers can be used as an alternative to catch the same fish.Master the Art of Knotting. A crucial aspect of bass fishing is the ability to change lures and tie strong knots. Remove your current lure and experiment with another, but always ensure your knot is secure. If you've caught several fish or navigated through tough cover, inspect your line and tie a new, sturdy knot. To familiarize yourself with the best knots, refer to our comprehensive guide on fishing knots.

Source: https://www.wired2fish.com/bass-fishing/how-to-catch-bass-easy-bass-fishing-tip

[justin-stewart-weed]

Mastering Bass Fishing: Proven Tips and Techniques for Success

Bass fishing is a beloved pastime for anglers across the United States. Whether you're a seasoned pro or a beginner looking to dive into this exciting sport, mastering the art of bass fishing requires knowledge, skill, and a deep understanding of the fish itself. In this ultimate guide to bass fishing, we'll explore a variety of tips and techniques that will help you reel in the big one and enhance your overall fishing experience.

Choosing the Right Equipment

Selecting the right fishing equipment is essential for a successful bass fishing trip. Here's what you need to consider:

Rod and Reel Selection

Medium to medium-heavy rods are ideal for bass fishing as they offer the right balance of sensitivity and power.

Match your rod with a quality baitcasting or spinning reel to ensure smooth casting and retrieval.

Fishing Line

Use monofilament or fluorocarbon line for most bass fishing situations. Braid is a good choice for heavy-cover fishing.

Line weight should range from 10 to 20 pounds, depending on your target bass size.

Bait and Lures

The choice of bait or lures depends on the conditions and time of year. Soft plastics, crankbaits, jigs, and spinnerbaits are all practical choices.

Experiment with various colors and sizes to see what the bass are biting that day.

Understanding Bass Behavior

Successful bass fishing starts with understanding the behavior and habitat preferences of these elusive fish:

Seasonal Patterns

Bass exhibits different behaviors in each season. During spring, they move to shallower waters to spawn. In summer, they often seek more relaxed, deeper spots. In fall, they feed aggressively before winter sets in.

Adapt your fishing techniques accordingly to match the season.

Habitat

Bass are known for their preference for cover. Look for submerged structures like rocks, logs, weeds, and docks.

Pay attention to water temperature and oxygen levels, which influence bass movement.

Feeding Habits

Bass are opportunistic predators, and their diet consists of various prey items such as baitfish, crawfish, and insects.

Mimic is the natural prey in your choice of lures and bait to increase your chances of success.

Effective Bass Fishing Techniques

Now that you have the right equipment and understand bass behavior let's delve into some effective fishing techniques:

Casting and Retrieving

The "cast and retrieve" technique involves casting your bait or lures near potential bass hiding spots and reeling it in steadily.

Vary your retrieval speed and depth until you find what triggers the bass to strike.

Flipping and Pitching

This technique is ideal for fishing in heavy cover. You can accurately place your bait near potential hiding spots with a shorter, more controlled cast.

Let your bait sink, and then use a slow, controlled retrieve.

Topwater Fishing

Topwater lures create excitement as bass strike from below the surface, creating explosive surface strikes.

Fish topwater lures during low-light periods or when bass feed near the surface.

Drop Shotting

The drop shot technique involves suspending your bait above the bottom, making it enticing to bass.

Use a drop shot rig with a finesse worm or other soft plastic bait.

Carolina Rigging

This technique is excellent for covering a wide area of the bottom. It involves a sliding weight and a soft plastic bait attached to a leader.

Drag the Carolina rig along the bottom to entice bass for a meal.

Conservation and Responsible Fishing

Bass fishing is not only about catching fish but also about preserving the sport for future generations. Here are some tips for responsible fisheries:

Catch and Release

Consider practicing catch and release for more giant bass to ensure their survival and reproduction.

Handle bass with care, using proper techniques to minimize stress and injury.

Follow Local Regulations

Please familiarize yourself with local fishing regulations, including size and bag limits, and adhere to them.

Report any illegal or unethical fishing practices you witness.

Keep the Environment Clean

Dispose of trash and fishing lines properly to prevent pollution in water bodies.

Respect the natural surroundings and wildlife while on your fishing adventures.

Bass fishing is a thrilling and rewarding hobby that connects anglers with the great outdoors. With the right equipment, an understanding of bass behavior, and practical techniques, you can improve your chances of landing that trophy-sized bass. Remember also to prioritize responsible fishing practices to ensure the longevity of this beloved sport. So, grab your gear, hit the water, and prepare for an unforgettable bass fishing experience!

[largemouthbassnation]

Catch Largemouth in 100ft of Water! Suspended Bass Fish Want to learn how to fish for suspended bass? Want to learn how to catch bass in a lake with blueback herring?

[melk917]

But If Santa Could Do It... (So Could the Grinch)

Warnings: So much swearing, so much spanking, p in v sex, lots and lots of Nevada running his mouth and narrating extreme filth, mentions of SantaCon

Rating: E

Pairings: Nevada Ramirez x f!Reader

WC: 3,847

A/N: Ticking off the 'Grinch' square on the last day of @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo! By request of @thatesqcrush. I hope you enjoy!

So, for those of you who don't know, SantaCon is a horrible day, where thousands of drunk people dress as slutty Santas and get absolutely obliterated drunk in NYC. It's literally the worst, and while I applaud the business sense of the reader here, Nevada is 1000% justified, LOL. (Also, pls suspend your disbelief that they would be partying as far up as Washington Heights, loll).

And lastly, for those who might not know, "Bridge and Tunnel" refers to those who commute into NYC for work & pleasure. It is 100% used pejoratively in almost every context, and Nevada is less than thrilled to find his club filled with them.

While it might have been cold and snowy outside, inside the club it was sweltering. The air was thick and humid with the tight pack of bodies, the ebb and flow of the room throbbing with the bass like it was the pulse of the party. It was like you had conjured the Caribbean to the Heights, instead of the depths of December.

But it fit with the theme–Santa’s Workshop After Hours. You had taken shameless advantage of Santa Con, leaning into the inevitable drunken shit show that the Bridge and Tunnel crowd brought with them every year to separate them from even more of their money. There were drink specials, signature cocktails, and costumes, all designed to match the decorations that had turned El Trujillo’s club into a debauched Winter Wonderland. The fake snow crunched under foot while the reserved booths were made up to look like toy shop work benches. Even the poles that more than one ill-advised patron had danced on were turned into oversized candy canes.

It was a room filled with future bad decisions, and you were only too happy to capitalize on that.

Sweat was dripping down your back despite the barely-there elf costume you wore, little more than a bra with a frilly skirt that threatened to flash your panties every time you reached for a bottle to pour the next drink. It was that promise that kept the orders coming in, Jersey bro after Jersey bro leaning over the bar to place his order and see if he could catch a glimpse. They’d smirk, orders coming in along with all manner of other offers for ways to spend your break, where he could take you when you got off your shift… You’d take their cash with a flutter of your lashes and a teasing smile… and then turn to the next idiot.

You were so busy filling drinks, you didn’t notice when the crowd around the bar parted, noise rolling back to a muted roar as patrons backed off, making room as the King himself appeared, stalking through the press of people, a literal black cloud in the sea of red and green.

Mari noticed first, eyes widening and elbowing you at the register. You looked up and she jerked her head at the end of the bar. Nevada was standing there, shoulders back, legs spread wide, arms crossed, and glowering. His irritation was flowing off him in waves, sending ripples into the crowd around him as a warning. Even the Jersey Shore meatheads next to him were giving him a wide berth, sensing that any encroachment would end poorly for them.

He met your eyes, his own gaze dark and pointed, mouth twisted in a frown.

“I thought you said you cleared this,” Mari muttered, her voice shaking slightly, eyes flicking from Nevada to you and back. One of the meatheads to Nevada’s left got jostled by his friends and bumped into him. The drunk idiot swung around like he was going to make trouble but took one look at the furious set of Nevada’s jaw and slunk back into the crowd.

You laughed weakly. “Uh, it’s possible I used that term loosely.”

Mari’s eyes widened as Nevada pointed at you and jerked his head in the direction of the balcony.

You flinched. “Ah, I guess I’m going on break.”

You ducked out from under the bar, missing how Mari crossed herself before turning away and back to the thirsty crowd.

Nevada’s grip was tight as he grabbed your arm and pulled you close, lips to your ear. “We need to have a chat,” he hissed, using his hold to drag you off the floor, practically marching you up the stairs to his private balcony.

“What the fuck is all this?” He spun you around, one hand still tight on your arm, the other pointing accusingly out over the crowd.

Huffing you shook him off, stepping to the side so you could turn and face him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and an unamused twist to your lips. “The bar has been losing money, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

His mouth tightened and his eyes flashed dangerously at your tone, but you pressed on before he could open his mouth and snarl at you. “Patronage was down, so I brought them back with something fun. Captured the spirit of the season.”

“So you turned my club into Santa’s fucking Workshop?” he ground out, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the crowd, an ever bumping sea of Santa hats and slutty reindeer.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, ok, Mr. Grinch.” Nevada narrowed his eyes, fingers curling into a fist at his side. You heaved an exasperated sigh. “It’s a party! It’s fun! Look at how many people are out there.”

You waved your arm out to encompass the whole of the club, packed nearly wall to wall with customers still aware enough to be buying drinks, but definitely way too drunk to register the bar tab.

“That’s not what this bar is,” he fumed, furious at the campy nightmare around him. “We don’t do the fuckin’ North Pole and and fake snow and shit.” He leaned into your personal space, crowding you and poking you in the chest. “We do reggaeton, cheap drinks, and drunken mistakes. No goddamn holiday parties.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure people are still making drunken mistakes in dark corners…”

“No. Fuckin’. Holiday parties!” He threw his hands in the air, cursing under his breath.

You snorted. His eyes flashed in warning and you rolled yours again.

“Oh, come on, ‘Vada. We’ve done more business in the last three hours than we did all of last week.”

That drew him up short. He rocked back on his heels, considering. “It’s not even 11:30.”

Your lips twitched and you leaned a casual hip on the balustrade, crossing your arms. “Yeah,” you drawled, “I know.”

“We don’t close till 4.” His eyes flickered as he did the math in his head.

Your small smile turned smug and you straightened your shoulders, pushing your chest out and preening. “I bet I’m looking really good to you right now, huh?”

He turned to actually look at you for the first time that night, gaze raking down your body slowly, taking in your outfit. He lingered on the curve of your breasts as you stood with your chest out, crossed arms pushing them up even more, before dragging lower, across your exposed stomach, the tiny green skirt, to where your garter belt was digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding up some terribly garish red and white striped thigh-highs.

He licked his lips, brows pulled together in a near frown. “The fuck are you wearing?”

You did a little spin, causing the skirt to flare up and flash the barely-there, white lace panties you were wearing at him. “I’m one of Santa’s elves. Don’t you like it?”

He crossed his arms, lips pressed in a thin line. “I’d like it better if all those fuckin’ Bridge and Tunnel pendejos out there weren’t getting a free show.”

You pouted, ducking your chin so you could look up at him through your lashes. “Aw, come on now. They tip better when they like what they’re looking at.”

You slid into his personal space, tugging on his crossed arms until he dropped them, letting you press firm against his chest as you leaned up to whisper low in his ear. “But you’re the only one who gets to touch, Papi.”

He growled, hands dipping under the flare of your skirt to grasp your ass and yank your hips hard against his, kneading the curves with strong fingers. “Damn-fuckin’-right I am.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your breasts firm to his chest, leaning up so your lips brushed his in a tease. “So then. Tell me how good I look.”

He huffed, fingers dipping low between your legs to play across the damp fabric of your panties, making you shiver against him.

“Oh, princesa,” his breath ghosted warm across your lips as he sighed out his taunt. He smelled like rum and coconut from the coquito, and you were sure if you licked into his mouth, he’d be sweet from the condensed milk, but he pulled back before you could find out. “You really bring in that much money from this hellhole of a fuckin’ party, and I’ll see about compliments.”

You barked a laugh, leaning back to roll your eyes at him, palms resting warm on his chest.

“Careful, Nevada,” you warned, lips twitching, fingers tapping his sternum where his chest hair was curling over the top of his undershirt, “you keep being generous like that and people will start to think that shriveled heart of yours grew three sizes.”

He growled, eyes flashing with amusement. “I’ll fuckin’ show you what can grow three sizes.”

You yelped and laughed as he dipped from the knees and lifted you with him as he backed to the couch, dropping back and pulling you into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

“Oh yeah?” you teased, rolling your hips forward to drag over the growing hardness in his pants. “I’m not sure you can claim three whole sizes…”

You earned a sharp swat on one cheek in response, making you jerk and laugh breathlessly as he pulled you in close, scraping his teeth down your neck.

“Turn around so you can sit all proper on Santa’s lap.”

You chuckled, arching your back to press your breasts up further in his face, tempting him. “Oh, so now you’ve got the holiday spirit, Santa?”

He ducked low to mouth at the curve of them, nipping at the soft flesh even as his hands slid down to grip your thighs, snapping the garter belt against your skin and making your breath hitch as you squirmed against him.

“Yeah, ‘cept my elves keep misbehavin’.”

You laughed and he smirked, wrapping his hands around your hips to pull you down as he rocked up, the hard press of his cock obvious through his jeans. A soft sound fell from your lips and he rocked up again, kneading your flesh before laying another quick smack across one cheek, the sting making you groan as heat flared in you.

“Now, turn the fuck around and tell me if you’ve been naughty or nice.”

You arched a brow at him, but swung your legs over so your back was to his front and leaned forward, flipping your skirt up to tease the full curve of your ass at him, white lace panties cut to reveal more than they hid.

He growled, hands gripping tight at your hips and pulling you back hard against him using his thighs to spread your own wide. He had you there, fully exposed across his lap, running warm palms up and down your thighs. His fingers played across the edge of your stockings, along the garter straps, stroking the soft skin high up near the juncture of your hip, but every time he’d get close to where you were wet and hungry for his touch, he’d slip away, leaving you empty and increasingly desperate.

You groaned softly, rocking your hips into his hold, trying to shift him where you wanted him, but he was stubborn. Instead, he slipped his fingers into the tops of your stockings, stroking your skin as he pressed a wet kiss to the base of your neck.

“Well, hermosa? Have you been a good girl this year? Or have you made trouble?”

His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through you, making your blood flash hot and your pussy clench, a rush of slickness soaking your panties and turning the white fabric translucent.

���What happens if I’ve only made trouble?”

He chuckled and your breath caught as he pressed his teeth to your skin in response. He ran the tip of his nose up your neck to nuzzle behind your ear before nipping sharply at the curve, the sting making you arch against him and gasp.

“Are you asking what happens to bad girls?” His breath ghosted over the abused skin and you shivered.

You reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, turning your face to nuzzle at his hairline, running your lips across his cheek as you ground your hips against him. “We both know how good I am, ‘Vada.”

He couldn’t hide the hard twitch of his cock where it was pressed to the curve of your ass at the dark promise in your tone. You rewarded him with a roll of your hips, a slow grind along his length that had his fingers digging into the soft skin of your thighs hard enough to bruise.

“Fuckin’ prove it.” He dragged his nails hard along the exposed skin of your thighs making you gasp and moan at the hot flair of pleasure-pain that curled up your nerves. “Show Papi just how good you can be.”

He wrapped strong fingers around the hand you had in his hair and dragged it between the two of you, pressing it hard to the hot bulge of his cock still trapped in his pants. You closed your fingers around it reflexively, rubbing your thumb over the sensitive head through the fabric until he groaned, rocking up into your hold.

You glanced up through your lashes to see his eyes on you, dark and intense. You licked your lips, cheeks hot as he dropped his gaze to track the flash of tongue.

With his hand still tight around your wrist, you tugged on the tab of his zipper, lowering it tooth by tooth, until his fly parted. You couldn’t help it, your gaze dropped to look at him, and you groaned. He had forgone underwear, thick cock exposed, flushed and fully hard, tip slick and shining with precum, framed perfectly in the V of his open pants.

“Oye, princesa, it’s not just for looking, eh?”

You snorted and when you met his eyes again he was smirking back at you, completely unrepentant.

“Oh, don’t worry. I can think of a few uses for all this.” You traced a barely-there path from the tip to where he disappeared into his pants, making him shiver. It was your turn to smirk as you tugged on the top of his pants, until you could pull him out completely, length flagging from the heft and weight, tip catching on his hip and leaving a sticky smear of precum.

His breath caught on a sigh as the pressure on his cock eased, followed by a groan when you had him shifting his hips as you gave him a single stroke.

“Coño,” he swore, rocking into your grip. “Fuckin’ put it to use then.”

He grunted as you released him. Biting your lip and throwing a sly smirk over your shoulder, you lifted your hips, flipping your skirt up and slowly pulling your panties to the side. You arched your back further and used your other hand to part your pussy, running a finger back and forth through the slick smeared there, showing off.

“Well, come on then, Santa. Sit me back on the North Pole.”

“Fuckin–”

Whatever the rest of his objection was going to be was cut off as you grasped him and slid back on his cock in one, smooth thrust. Your breath caught, choking on a groan at the stretch, the pleasured burn sending heat rolling through your body from where you were joined to your fingertips.

He swore, his hands flying to your hips and gripping tight, holding you hard against him as he flexed his hips, grinding up.

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, rocking in his lap, clenching around his thick length as the thick head hit that place deep inside that made your nerves sing.

He cursed, thighs shaking under you as he fought for control. “So fuckin’ tight. Shit.”

He slipped one hand around your hip, long fingers brushing against where you were joined as you rocked up, gathering up the mess you were making on his cock.

“Oh, eres tan mojada, eh, princesa?” He dragged his fingers across your lips, pressing until you parted them, tongue flicking out to taste yourself on him, curling around his knuckles and moaning as you ground down against him.

“All this, just for me, eh?” He growled, hooking his fingers over your jaw and pulling your head back as he slammed his hips up. Your groan was muffled around his hand as you sucked eagerly, hollowing your cheeks and mouthing at the digits like they were his cock.

“Fuckin’ show me. Show me it’s all mine. Show me how good you are.”

You arched your back, hands falling to his thighs to hold on as you lifted and and slammed your hips back, taking his cock deep and grinding, greedily chasing the hot, bright flash of pleasure each deep thrust set off in you, making you shake and clench around him.

You had him swearing, forehead pressed to your back as he worked his hips in counterpoint, gasping.

“Ah, shit.”

He yanked his fingers from your mouth as one strong hand pressed high on your back, shoving you forward, your ass tilted high in his lap as you were bent in half and rocked back on his cock. The impossibly impractical skirt of your costume was pushed high around your waist and he groaned at the sight of you bare, split wide around his cock.

“Fuck, yes, just like that.” His free hand came down hard across your ass, and you clenched around him with a groan as the pain mixed with the searing pleasure of his cock as it dragged over that spot inside you that made you see stars. “Yes, wanna see that ass bounce in my lap as you take my dick. Fuck.” He smacked you again, gripping the cheek hard to expose you further to his gaze.

“Fuck look at you split open on my cock.” He slipped his thumb next to where you were stretched tight around him, pressing against the edge of your opening as you took him deep, the added pressure making desire curl hot in your stomach, and you moaned, thrusting back harder, off rhythm.

“Oh yeah, good girl, good fuckin’ girl. Just like that.”

You whined, hands reaching back for him, wanting to feel him, anything to ground you, but he had you bent and off-balance, the only one in control. It wasn’t enough.

You scrambled around, breath coming in heavy pants, a desperate whimper curling in the back of your throat despite the fact that you were the one to slide off his cock. But you wanted more of him, wanted to lick into his mouth and taste the heat and spice from the utter filth that was spilling from his lips. Wanted to be able to thread your hands into his hair and hold him to you, wanted him to mark up the curve of your breasts with his teeth and leave his signature, dark and obvious, across your skin where anyone could see it.

Gasping, you crawled back into his lap and threw a leg over his hips, sinking back down on his cock. You threw your head back with a satisfied moan as you took him back to the hilt, stretched wide and stuffed full.

His breath was coming harsh through clenched teeth, growling. He slid his hand into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers and pulling tight as he fucked up into you with a sharp thrust that had you groaning and clenching around him.

“Fucking trouble.” His voice was rough, dark. “I liked the view I had.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and used his strong shoulders for leverage as you took him harder with each roll of your hips. “Good fucking trouble, though,” you gasped.

He arched his neck and groaned as you ground down in his lap. “Ah fuck. Yes. Good fuckin’ trouble.” He gripped your ass tight and yanked you down as he thrust up. “Oh, fuck yes, fuck gonna come.”

He yanked your head down with the hand still tight in your hair, pulling you into a harsh kiss, more teeth than anything else, breathing harshly into your mouth. “Gonna fucking fill you up and send you back down there, stuffed full of my cum. Let those fucking pendejos see me dripping down your legs so they know that you’re fuckin’ owned.”

You keened in response, his words sending desire curling through you, sharp and insistent, as you rocked against him. The base of his cock was pressed firm against your clit, every motion sending waves of white hot pleasure crashing over you, making you shake and ride him harder, faster.

His hands were everywhere, gripping and tugging, holding you so tight that you knew from experience you’d have bruises littered across your skin. The thought of those bruises on display for the rest of the night, his teeth along the base of your throat, his hand prints on your upper thighs with all that with his cum smeared across them… the image had you gasping, desperate, as his cock hit that place deep inside you that made you cry out and clench, orgasm punching through you with such a sudden force you swore you whited out, the noise of the club fading behind the blood roaring in your ears.

You were only vaguely aware of Nevada’s hoarse groan as the force of your orgasm dragged him over the edge, and he fucked deep, grinding up against you as he came, cock pulsing as he filled you with waves of his hot release.

You came back to yourself, limbs trembling with lingering pleasure, his hands stroking soothing lines down your back. You shifted and shuddered as his cock shifted inside your sensitive folds, still half hard, the thick head still brushing over that spot that sent sparks down your spent nerves. He groaned softly as you clenched down, rocking against you and you pressed a smile to his throat.

“Round two already, Santa? This gonna be the Miracle on 184th Street?”

He snorted and pinched your ass, making you jerk and laugh, which curled into a groan as you clenched around him again.

“Should’ve fucked that smart mouth instead.”

You laughed, pressing wet kisses up his neck to his jaw, biting at the hinge. “You love my smart mouth.”

He cupped your ass in his big hands, kneading the curve and pulling back so he could smirk up at you. “Yeah, love it stuffed full with my cock.”

“Fucking asshole.” You smiled affectionately down at him as you tugged lightly at his hair, earning a growl. His fingers slid inwards, ghosting over the tight curl of your hole and making you shiver at the hint of promise.

“Mm. Later, princesa. After you get this pretty ass back downstairs and show me just how much cash your Santa’s Workshop is gonna make me.”

----------------------------

Tag list! (join or edit your listing here!)

@madpanda75, @alwaysachorusgirl, @detective-giggles, @dianilaws, @detectivebarba, @objection-argumentative, @prurientpuddlejumper, @designersophisticate, @thatesqcrush, @greeneyedblondie44, @ashtheironbat, @chasingeverybreakingwave, @crowfootwrites, @dreamlover31, @barbabangme, @amelia-song-pond, @witches-unruly-heart, @darkheart-brightsmile, @mrsrafaelbarba, @simpforbarba, @beardsanddetectives, @shittanyy, @pascalispretty, @katieslotherford, @Navygirlnyc2006, @sole-screws

Not all the tags seem to be functional… so apologies if it didn’t work for yours!

[fascination-street-writing]

Be With Me Tonight | Guido Mista x F!Reader

Regret is a sickening temptation - and you have ruined everything.

Content Warnings: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral & Implied), Implied Past Attempted Sexual Assault, Potentially Dubious Consent, & Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics (Past & Present)

You said you would do your own makeup. And yet, here you sit on a thrifted barstool – never mind the tweed upholstery that digs into the underside of your skirt-clad thighs, when you paid less for the stool than you would a loaf of bread – and flinch as your sister nearly prods your iris with the mascara wand clutched in her tremoring hand. She smells of hair spray and counterfeit perfume. You look to the mirror that hangs above the vanity.

“You really should change before we go,” she tells you while returning the wand to its tube. Fingers toil through your hair: she scrutinizes your appearance as though you are a porcelain doll and she your maker. You suppose that, in a way, she is. “You won’t catch anyone’s attention dressed like that.”

The reflection of your cherry-red lips mimics the frown upon your face. “Maybe I don’t want to ‘catch anyone’s attention,’” you retort. “I’m not even ready to start dating again.”

She groans. “You’re not still caught up on that perdente, are you?”

You do not have to bite back a quip because you do not have one. Instead, you bite your stained lips and look away. Though the relationship with your most recent ex had ended on mutual terms, the separation stings nonetheless.

“You know, you’ve always had bad taste in men,” your sister continues. Varnish to a wall, she rubs powder across your cheekbones. “First there was that pervertito when you were fifteen, and now a convicted murderer.”

“Can you stop?” you demand, clenching your fist. “He’s not a murderer. It was self-defense.”

“Regardless of what you think, he still killed three men. I can’t believe the landlord hasn’t changed our locks yet. I asked him almost a year ago now, ever since he was released from prison,” your sister insists, ignoring your plea. “You should’ve asked for his key back.”

“He has a name, you know.” Guido Mista – a name that once tasted like honey on your tongue, now bitter as cigarette smoke.

And your sister refuses to speak it, for she hates the taste of cigarettes. A hum dies on her lips. Her smirk bequeaths to you an urgency to cower in shame; however, the distressed look in her eyes tells you how much she fears for your welfare.

As if she has anything to genuinely be afraid of.

Guido Mista has, for most of your life, been something of an extended acquaintance to you. His is a recognizable presence in crowded hallways; after all, who else amongst the student body could muster the same courage to break the dress-code by donning a purple beanie cap atop their head? You will admit to him that you look forward to the days when a teacher confiscates his cap because it means that you get to admire his rich chocolate curls all day long from your seat at the back of the classroom. He will chuckle in response and press a sloppy kiss to your cheek while running his calloused fingers over the sides of your belly, drinking in the laughter that bubbles through you, as if you are the fountain of ever-lasting love itself.

But it was not always this way. Before Mista came a boy whose name you will etch from memory in time – remembered as a boyfriend, but never as a partner.

At your locker, he leans over you, waiting for you to stack your textbooks away. You are fifteen, and he asks you to join him behind the bleachers of the gymnasium. No more than a pet tethered by a chain, you follow him blindly to where his companions wait. You know their pubescent faces but you seldom speak to them. Their names do not matter anymore, either.

In a school dress, pitted against three boys who surpass you in height – you never stood a chance.

The squealing of the gymnasium doors and the slamming of the lock is not enough to stop them. It did little more than encourage your perpetrators to wedge you between their clothed bodies as they fist your hair and tug at the skirt that your father has only just purchased for you after you spilled grape juice over the previous one. You spot the purple beanie over your boyfriend’s blazer-clad shoulder and cry out to him – to Guido Mista.

His cap has fallen from his head, and they beat him until he gasps for air and spews bile from his throat. But he never begs them to stop because it keeps them from attacking you again. He can hardly put up a fight when every attempt to stand is quelled by the diving of a loafer-clad foot into the pit of his stomach Your boyfriend grabs him by those beautiful curls and ushers his face against the waxed floors. The glint of a pocketknife catches your eye.

The school-bell blares. The boy who had held you back throws you to the ground. The pocketknife clamors with you, just beyond the grasp of the tips of your fingers. Your ex-boyfriend (for you no longer consider him as anything more) and his boyish companions dust off their blazers, straighten their ties, and hurry off for their next round of classes. They leave you with your unsettled clothes and a boy with a broken nose.

Clutching the rungs of the bleachers, Mista pulls his body upwards:  a buoy in the sea, and you the only vessel on the horizon. You press his discarded beanie – which you cannot help but to notice smells comfortingly so of cedarwood – to his nose. Red blossoms seep into the delicate threads.  “Are you okay?” he asks you with a cough and a grimace for, as you will come to discover, he has cracked a rib.

“Yes.” Compared to his injuries, you cleared the scuffle relatively unscathed. Mista had stepped in before anything beyond the tearing of your uniform could happen. And yet, his concern is of you and not for his own well-being. “Thank you.”

He flashes you a lopsided grin. You are glad to see that, though laced with the blood that seeps into his mouth, he has not lost any teeth. His repose is infectious, and his ease illuminates your own composure. You help him to stand and together you walk to the nurse’s office, his arm slung over your shoulders and yours around his waist. Your attackers are expelled; their testimony of falsified innocence could not hold a candle to security footage, or a pocketknife engraved with damning initials. Despite everything, you make a new friend. The two of you will become lovers at sixteen – utterly inseparable.

Until the very end.

You prefer sweeter cocktails, but you accept the gin and tonic from your sister and lift it to your lips anyways. The relief of the ice pooling in the cavities of your mouth is a reprieve from the suffocating atmosphere of the nightclub. Too many bodies, too much sweat – too many different smells, and suddenly your mind whirls. You place the emptied glass atop a table and only then do you realize that you never juiced the translucent lime wedge curled around the rim.

The circle of women whom you find yourself dancing with are strangers; you sway as though you have all known each other for a lifetime. You do not understand the words of the American pop song that resonates from the wall speakers, but it does not matter; after all, even an illiterate man can read rhythm. Across the dancefloor, your sister drags two men with her towards the restroom.

A pelvis presses against your backend – or perhaps, it is your backend that leans into the nook of the clubber swaying behind you. A pair of hands falls to your hips, though you take the lead in rocking side-to-side to Laura Branigan’s cadence. Over the sound of music, the woman to your left suggests that you all swap cellphone numbers. The woman to your right agrees with a drunken nod of her head and, giddy with excitement, clasps your hand. The woman directly across from you offers to order a round of shots to commemorate this newfound comradery. Instead of a tray filled with cinnamon whiskey, she returns with an olive-toned man clad in orange leopard print pants and a blue cross-patterned sweater that exposes his midriff.

“Hey, ladies,” the woman calls out to your circle. The lights ripple across her flushed skin like water. “This is Mista.”

You freeze, your hips suspended mid-beat. Your dance partner pouts and pulls away. Mista does not look to you, and you are grateful . . . Until his coffee-colored eyes do fall to your face after a hiccup jostles your chest. His brows furrow, gaze darting between you and the man behind you. Before his steadily parting lips can utter your name against the clapping of the bass, you are gone because you are not ready.

The winter breeze makes you shiver. The nightly chill is preferable to the sweltering sanctuary behind you, where only moments ago you bobbed along to pop songs and impulsively contemplated friendship with intoxicated patrons who will not remember you in the morning.

The green dial of your cellphone flashes and reflects upon scattered puddles.  You text your sister and tell her that you are going home – don’t wait up. Your affinity for clubbing has gone sour.

“I thought that was you.”

Your heart races quickly, so much that it might burst from the nook between your breasts and land on the ground before his white boots. “Yeah, it’s me,” you say. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too. So, what’ve you been up to?”

“Just stuff. And things.”

Mista laughs. “Stuff and things?”

“Y’know, work,” you tell him with a nod. “More work.”

“Me too.” You fidget with your purse. “I saw your sister – or, the back of her head, actually. How’s she doin’?”

“She’s good.”

“Good.”

A man stumbles through the door. He reeks of cheap bourbon and rye. You and Mista step aside and watch the man as he struggles to walk away from the club. The scene has created a lull to your painfully cumbrous conversation; you reap the opportunity, for it becomes your self-proclaimed cue to leave. You open your mouth to bid Mista adieu. The taste of your own lipstick leaves you sputtering.

“Hey, so uh, are you busy?” he suddenly asks, cutting you off. You have always believed that he could read minds. In this moment, it is as if he knows your intent – as if shuffling in your heels and tightening the grasp on your purse were not telltale signs of your discomfort.

“Not really,” you insist. “I was about to head home.”

“Cool, cool. I was just wondering because you left something behind at my apartment. I’ve been meaning to give it back, but I didn’t think it’d be right to just show up at your doorstep or something.”

“It hasn’t stopped you before,” you chide.

“I know, I know. I just figured it’d make sense to stop at my place, since it’s on the way.”

It gnaws at you – the voice in your head that tells you to leave him be, here and now. It will not do you any good, stepping back into walls once sacred to you. He stares at you, wide-eyed, and gages your reaction. Dark curls poke out from beneath the rim of his cap. You wonder if he still uses that cedarwood shampoo.

It would not do you any good to go with him. The prospect of sipping a glass of wine whilst soaking in a warm bath beckons you home. There is little trouble that you can muster with an idle night, for the night is still young and you have not given up. Though the moon has reached its peak, you cannot surrender. You have made your choice.

“Sure.”

But you never intended to make the right one.

You were sure to slip on a set of shoes before stepping outside. Through the hallway, down the elevator, across the lobby, and onto the street you wander with little more than the glow of streetlamps and passing headlights to guide your way through the dark. You find him in the alley between your apartment building and the next. The stink of a prison cell has imprinted itself onto his skin.

He slips a single nickel-plated key into your hand. “Your sister probably wouldn’t appreciate me having this,” he says.

“You can keep it. I’ll tell her you forgot it.” When he does not accept the return, you reach out and tuck the key into the pocket of his cargo pants. “Just so you have something to remember me by.”

The look in his eyes – the sheen of gloss that coats his irises – churns your stomach. In that moment, Mista reminds you of a dog scorned by his owner. In a way, that is exactly what he is. “You still have that sweater I sent you, right?”

Mustard-yellow, and one of your favorites. And one of Mista’s, too. You had sent it to him during his second week in holding. “Yeah.”

“Keep that, too.” A revolver rests in inside the waistband of his pants. It is a new addition to his appearance. It does not unsettle you, because you know that this man who killed three mobsters without hesitation would never hurt you. “Mista, I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” he sighs, kicking at a discarded soda can that had drifted from a nearby trashcan. “But it’s for the best.”

“It is.” The soda can rolls your way. You stop it with the sole of your foot; it crinkles beneath your weight. “Maybe one day, after you’re tired of working for that Bucciarati, we can pick up where we left off.”

“I’d like that.”

You smile. “Me too . . . Well, I should get going before my sister realizes I’m gone.” In your final moments together – before a pair of lovers once again becomes two separate beings – you embrace. Face buried into the crook of his neck, you speak: “You’re a good person, Mista. No matter what happened between you and those men or whatever does happen, you will always be good.”

He clutches you tighter.

“Don’t let them get to you. Don’t let this job get to you. And please, stai al sicuro, amore: stay safe.”

Back in your bedroom, you shed your clothes and don a mismatched set pajamas. Ever the optimist, you retire for the night with a heart not yet ready to be broken.

And an inescapable evocation of loneliness.

You are shocked to see the stack of hastily packed cardboard boxes. The words fragile or giunca are crudely scribbled with black marker across each one. All that remains is a worn couch with springs that poke into your skin and a square television, which sits on a box labeled libri e altra spazzatura – books and other trash.

The uniform pinholes in the barren walls are a reminder that imitators of your face, frozen in time, used to adorn the room.

“You’re moving?” you ask Mista as he tosses his hat aside and runs a hand through his hair.

He stops and looks to the boxes. “Yeah, actually,” he confirms. “The rent’s too damn high to afford on my own. I’m moving in with some coworkers.”

“You mean other gang members?” You do not miss the way he bites his lip in response. You regret your words as soon as they leave you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“N-no, it’s okay – you’re right anyways.” He trails off. “So that guy you were with. He your boyfriend or something?”

You struggle to recall your dance partner. “Oh, no,” you insist, caught between a scoff and a laugh. “I don’t even know his name.”

Something flashes behind his eyes. He hides the smile that creeps on his face behind the back of his hand, though he does not speak. Not another word is spoken.

It does not sit well with you, the silence that manifests in the still of the room. You are a trespasser – but so is he, for this realm no longer belongs to him, either. “Um, where’s this thing I left behind?” you finally ask; your voice echoes through the emptied space. It makes you shiver.

Mista disappears past the threshold of the bedroom that you once shared  – you wonder if he still uses the cream-colored sheets you bought for him as opposed to his preferred navy blue – and returns with a shirt: it is your mustard-yellow sweater. It is wrinkled and smells just like him and something new (gunpowder, perhaps). The dried drool marks tell you that he sleeps with it bundled in his arms. “Here,” he says, holding it out to you.

You do not move to take it. “I gave it to you,” you remind him. A crushed soda can is under your foot and again, you are back in the alley saying farewell to your love. “I want you to keep it.”

But there is no alleyway – only a vacant apartment suite. He does not wish to return it; in a hasty, split-second decision back at the nightclub, he wagered his ownership over what has become his most cherished possession. Just for the chance that you might say yes.

Just for the chance to spend one last night with you.

He rolls his wrist, extending his arm further. “No. It’s for the best.”

And so, you pluck it from his grasp and tuck it inside of your purse – the final harvest from the tree, to be seeded and planted elsewhere. “I’d better get going,” you tell him. “I wish you all the best. It was good seeing you again. Really good . . .”

The doorknob hovers under your palm. “Wait,” Mista suddenly calls. You stop. He rubs the back of his neck. “Would you like to stay for a bit?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s late.” Your tongue betrays your heart. It is treason within your very soul. “Besides, it’s probably for the best if I go.”

Your reverberation of his words makes him wince. More than anything, you want to drop your purse and climb into his arms – to feel his warmth again. You need to leave. Yet, you step away from the door and take a seat upon the flattened cushions of the couch. You still remember where to sit to avoid the broken springs. “Unless, I mean . . .  I guess if you really wouldn’t mind.”

Mista perks up. You mirror his grin. He takes the spot beside you, careful to leave a considerable amount of distance between your bodies. He reaches for the remote. The reception has not improved – it remains fuzzy, pixelated, and colorless.

“I’d offer a boardgame, but . . .” He gestures to the boxes; you get the hint. The channels flash by. “Any preferences?”

“I’m fine with a cooking show,” you tell him. “Or a movie.”

He settles for the latter. At some point, you leave Mista to fetch two drinks from the kitchen. The refrigerator is nearly empty, save for a few bottles of water. When you return with your beverages, you find that he has fallen asleep. You leave him be and watch the reminder of the movie with nothing more than his heavy breathing and the voices of the actors to keep you company.

You turn the television off once the end credits begin. Mista has not moved. If not for the heaving of his chest, he might have been a dead man. Without a clock on the wall, you cannot tell the time. Prediction is all you have – and so, you predict that it is just after midnight. Regardless, you have overstayed your welcome. It is time to leave.

Your fingers brush across his arm as you lean over his hunched form to rouse him from his slumber.  You would hate to leave without saying goodbye. “Mista . . . “ you coo; your speech slurs and it is only then that you realize your own exhaustion. “I’m gonna go home, ‘kay?”

He stirs beneath you. Eyes puffy from sleep, he ogles at your figure. You hover over him, your breath close enough to ghost his cheeks. His long, dark lashes twitch when you breathe too sharply – when he parts his legs for you to slide in between them so that he might capture your lips with his own. One hand to the base of your neck, the other to your waist: he pulls you flush to his body, caging you with arms that feel unfamiliar. More muscle, you suppose.

You press against his chest and detach. His grip loosens, although only enough for you to raise the back of your hand to puckered lips to wipe the saliva from your face. He has already lost you – once more and it will become a life sentence.

“Mista,” you warn, turning your head away to resist his second kiss. The twinges of early love bloom again in the core of your belly. You want him. But you cannot have him. “We can’t.”

Your lipstick stains his mouth. It makes him look undeniably pretty.

“One night,” he pleads – yet his hands leave your body. “I know what you said, about waiting until I’m finished with Passione. But that was easier said than done. I can’t leave them; not now, maybe not ever. They’re mia famiglia. And so are you.”

Your head falls limply. “You can’t have us both.”

“Why not?” He speaks your name when you hesitate to answer. A finger hooks beneath your chin, tipping your head so that you must meet his gaze. “Why not, cara?”

He demands a truth that you have never professed. Not to him, nor your sister – and never to yourself. “I’m scared, Mista,” you finally admit. Confession weighs you down in his grasp. “Because I know the day will come when you won’t come back. It’d be better if I’m not around for it.”

A faint smile, laced with sorrow, etches upon his face. “Do you have that little faith in me?” he asks.

Faith? It was never for the lack thereof. You trust Mista with every fiber of your being because he saved you. And it was not just you – he took the lives of three men to protect the virtue of a woman whom he had never met because she could have been you. She was almost you. That night, when he had heard that woman’s screams and saw the man crouched over her bruised form, Mista felt as though his body had projected itself back into the gymnasium of the school you once attended together. Only this time, he knew how to put up a fight. He acted in the way that the constraints of boyhood had once held him back from.

No, you do not place your mistrust on Mista – you place it in the souls of every man and woman that poses a threat to his safety. The fact that you do not know how to convey this to him mystifies you. Actions are far easier than words, and so you press your lips to his once more. You feed off his touch alone.  

You recline against the backing of the couch, hands pressed flat against the cushions. keening into Mista’s palms as he slides your skirt down – past your thighs, past your knees, and past your ankles. Your panties follow suit. His mouth presses against your slick folds; as touch starved as you have become, it takes little more than his kisses to stir your core. As if commanded by muscle memory, your legs coil around his shoulders and yank him closer the moment his tongue slips past your heat. He groans against you, low and gravely. It makes you gasp when his teeth graze over your hardened nub. When he brings his finger to join his tongue, you find that you are unable to stop your hips from rocking against his lips. A second finger coaxes you, and then a third – you come undone in his mouth, heaving for air.

You cry out his name in prayer. Mista pulls away, letting your legs fall back down. The spasm of your thighs turns your abdomen to jelly. You cannot move. You draw him in for another kiss, savoring the taste of your balm that coats his skin. He mutters his desires and you nod, eager to feel him fill you again. He hoists you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom.

It fills you with gratification to see that the rumpled sheets and folded pillows beneath you are in fact the color of sweet cream.

Soft snores leave Mista’s lips. He sleeps on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, and the other tucked beneath your head. Unlike your lover, you are wide-awake. You stare at the browning wallpaper of the bedroom wall, willing yourself to believe that the stagnant flowers are truly billowing against the wind in a field elsewhere.

You toss the duvet from your body and stand, careful not to wake him. The mattress breathes in the absence of your weight. In the darkness, you collect your discarded clothing and don your clubbing attire. You cast one final look to the sleeping dark-eyed boy before clicking the heavy door shut behind you.

A tiny voice cries out – a child from the next apartment suite perhaps, startled by nightmares no doubt. Though, as your ears strain and listen, it almost seems as though the child is calling your name. It is a ludicrous idea. Still, it unsettles you, for there is something familiar in its tone. You tighten your grasp on your purse, readjust your heels, and leave.

Regret is a sickening temptation – and you have ruined everything. 

| 4291 Words | Masterlist |

[panfishonthefly]

Early Season Tactics For Panfish

A common question I am often asked this time of year is how to reliably catch bluegills before the water warms up and the fish begin their spawning rituals. Many fly fishers chuckle about the notion of panfish being hard to catch on a fly. These anglers likely only fish for bluegills and other sunfish during the ideal conditions that present themselves during late spring and summer. Trying to catch panfish on the fly just after ice can be a bit of a challenge.

To Catch Them You Have To Find Them First!

For the shore-based angler finding early season bluegills can be frustrating. They don’t occupy the same water you are likely to find them in during the warmer months of the year. In cold weather, panfish tend to school up often by year class. When fishing from a boat early in the year, I can usually locate these schools of fish quickly with the use of a fish finder. Shore-based anglers don’t have that option, so how can they find the fish?

The first thing to consider is choosing the right body of water. Just after ice-out, I focus on smaller bodies of water that will warm up quickly. During the coldest conditions, panfish will be schooled up in deeper water. I look for small ponds that have deep water that can be accessed from the shore, such as a dam face. After a few calm sunny days, you may find fish moving into dark bottomed shallow flats. They seem to move into shallow water to warm up. They can be extremely skittish and will retreat to deeper water as soon as the sun disappears. You may actually see some surface activity on calm sunny days when the fish will actively feed on emerging midges.

Early Season Techniques

For fish schooled in deep water, I will use an intermediate, sink tip, or full sinking line. I will probe the depths with small nymphs and wet flies until I locate the fish. To entice these sluggish fish, your presentation must be painfully S…L…O…W… in cold water; the fish will not chase down a fly. A slow hand twist retrieve is a better option than stripping in the fly. Detecting strikes can be tough due to the use of sinking lines and the subtle takes of the fish. The fish often swims slowly up the fly and inhales it. They will be no jerk or tug on the line. If you feel anything before the fish spits out the fly, it will be just subtle heaviness on the line. Most strikes are detected by watching the leader or end of the fly line like a hawk. Anything that looks like a twitch, pause, or change in angle should be met with a hook set. It also helps to keep the rod tip low to eliminate any slack in the line. I will often fish a tandem rig with a heavy large, heavy nymph to get down quickly trailed by a smaller wet fly.

Once you locate the fish, you can continue to fish the sinking line or, if they are not holding too deep, switch over to a floating line and suspend your flies under an indicator. You may find that detecting strikes will be easier, and you will be able to keep your flies in “the zone” for more extended periods. I prefer to fish small nymphs and midge larva when using an indicator. I will weight the flies to get them to sink quickly.

When fish are in the shallows, it is time to switch over to a floating line. I will often find these early season fish in just a few inches of water. Under these conditions, they are very spooky and will bolt if you cast a fly line over them. This is one of the few times that I will fish a long, light leader. Wet flies are my preferred patterns for this type of fishing. I will often trail a midge larva behind the wet fly and take fish on them. If you see fish actively rising or bulging right below the surface, they are likely feeding on midges. You can try a midge dry fly alone or fish a dry/dropper trailing a midge larva or pupa pattern behind the floating fly. Again long, light leaders may be needed to keep from spooking the fish. Early in the season, a cold, cloudy day will send these shallow water fish back to the depths than you will have to repeat the process to find them again.

Effective Fly Patterns

Wet flies are my number one choice for cold water panfish. They can be tied in a variety off sizes and colors and can be fished very slowly. Weighted nymphs also are a solid choice this time of year. A large, heavy nymph can be fished with a small wet fly as a trailer to help get the smaller pattern down to the fish. Don’t be surprised if a chunky largemouth bass grabs this large nymph. I catch quite a few bass while searching for early season panfish. Smaller weighted nymphs are also a good option for suspending beneath an indicator. Midge patterns are often a solid bet for early season panfish. Larva, pupa and dries all have their place in an early season panfish box.

Fortunately, these harsh conditions don’t last too long. Winter will eventually lose its grip on the land. As the days get longer and begin to warm, the bluegills and other panfish will spend more and more time in the shallows until they start scoping out spawning territory. By this time, they have usually given up their shyness and once again become the pushovers most anglers know them to be!

[zenxenophilia]

Random Christmas Headcanons

Rodimus is at first confused as to why there seems to be an abundance of garland and colorful orbs suspended from every hallway, but quickly succumbs to the spirit of the season once the liaison teaches him about Earth holiday traditions.  He loves all the games and activities associated with the holidays, snowball fights, alt mode sledding, even hide and seek if he can get enough people to join in.  He also enjoys getting creative and working with his hands, so he excels at decorating. The inside of his habsuite puts those garish neighborhood lighted displays back on Earth to shame.  He also happens to be particularly good at making gingerbread houses and cookies, which honestly surprises some bots.  Granted, Rodimus might not have the patience to make sure the frosting is perfectly even like some people, (coughUltraMagnuscough) but he does put a lot of effort into the decorating, utilizing every piece of candy available to make unique and intricate designs, especially for his famous Rodimus star cookies.

Ultra Magnus’s absolute favorite part of the holiday is singing carols, even though he’s much too self conscious to try singing for an audience. Sometimes the liaison catches him practicing while he thinks nobody’s watching.  Most of the time, the liaison will be content to merely sit and enjoy the sound of his voice, If however they’re feeling particularly bold, they might give him a big round of applause after one of his impromptu concerts.  He’ll be flustered and embarrassed of course to realize someone was watching him, but to hear them compliment his voice just warms his spark.  He’ll still be nervous about preforming for an audience, but from then on, he’ll be much more inclined to start singing if he knows the liaison is around to hear him.

 Swerve is all about those sappy holiday specials!  He plays all the classic Christmas movies in his bar all season long, It’s a Wonderful, A Christmas Carol, A Christmas Story, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and all the Rankin Bass specials, just to name a few.  It gets to the point where people have to beg him to change the channel because they can’t bear to hear another chorus of “We are Santa’s Elves” again.  He also comes up with a list of new holiday themed drink specials (which do somewhat make up for the monotony of the movies).  He gets the liaison to test out all of the human friendly beverages before including them on the menu, to make sure that they’re festive (and tasty) enough.  The liaison even helps him come up with the names for a few of them, which means they get them for free during the holiday season, for being such a big help and all.

 Brainstorm spends most of his time tinkering with new inventions in his lab to make everyone’s spirits even brighter.  His most notable accomplishment being a machine that creates a realistic, synthetic snowfall within a ten mile radius (though he says with time that number can be improved).  Even Perceptor has to admit that the gadget is quite the technological marvel.  At least it’s a better idea than the hot chocolate super soaker gun.  With minimum encouragement, he can be persuaded to turn the hallways of the Lost Light into a veritable winter wonderland.  Expect that area of the ship to be extra crowded, with bots making snow angels and snowmen and even snow drift barricades for one of Rodimus’ epic snowball wars.

 Chromedome and Rewind love the quiet, more intimate parts about Christmas most. Not to say that they don’t enjoy partying it up with their friends or having an ship wide artificial snowball fight, but there’s just something magical about curling up together in their habsuite at night, under the synthetic glow of a televised fire, while Christmas carols play softly in the background.  After learning about the tradition of giving gifts, they both set out to find the perfect gift for one another.  Rewind uses this as the perfect opportunity to mess with his conjunx, dropping fake hints and clues as to what he got Chromedome, even faking a call to Prowl at one point to “get his opinion”.  In the end, Chromedome gets him something heartfelt and personal from one of their shore leave trips, while Rewind gives him a video of his favorite moments of them.  (Chromedome cried.  Rewind considered that a win.)

 Tailgate and Cyclonus barely have time to enjoy the fun parts of the holiday season, as they spend most of their time agonizing over their feelings for each other.  After all, Christmas is a time for telling people how you feel.  And what better way to show your affection than by giving your crush the perfect gift.  Only, neither of them has any idea what the other could possibly want, so as per usual, they default to their preferred confidants.  Tailgate listens, somewhat overwhelmed, as Swerve rattles off every romantic holiday trope he’s seen, while Whirl spends the first five minutes groaning through Cyclonus’ story, before telling him not to be a pussy and just tell Tailgate how he feels (and also to get out of his habsuite).  After gratefully accepting Tailgate’s shy offer of slightly charred energon treats, Cyclonus shares a song that he dedicated just for him.  They both think it’s the best present either of them has ever gotten.

 Whirl is… not a big fan of the holiday season, but not for the reasons most might think.  Most of the bots assume that his icy behavior around this time stems from a lack of sentimentality, but it’s actually the opposite.  Seeing happy couples like Tailgate and Cyclonus and Chromedome and Rewind only serves to further remind him of how lonely he is.  He frequents the bar far less than usual, preferring instead to hole himself away in his habsuite while watching sad, French films.  It will have to be up to the liaison to notice these changes, as most bots will be too preoccupied in their own celebrations to notice Whirl’s absence.  The liaison is delighted when they finally see Whirl at movie night again.  It seems someone had slipped him a very moving, hand written Christmas card under his door asking him to come back.  But in Whirl’s words, he just “needed more munchies.”

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

...Doesn’t Stay on Break

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. 

Dec. 30, 2016 6:20pm

Penelope kicked the door of her vintage Cadillac closed as she balanced two trays of tamales in her arms. She had spent the afternoon in her step-grandmother’s kitchen making their annual batch of the delicious wraps. Her Bungalow was still brightly shining her Christmas lights in the rhythm of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She wrestled with her overly decorated key rings at the back door, when to her surprise, the door opened inward.

“Here she is!” Derek’s knowing voice crooned as he held the door.

“You’re here!” She uttered in amazement. Derek swooped in and took the trays from her be-dangled hands. She quickly dropped her bag and keys on the half wall and shuffled in for a world famous Derek Morgan bear hub. They rocked comfortably for a few beats, parting with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.

“How’s my baby girl?” He asked as she hung up her coat and closed the back door. They stood easily in her kitchen, she plated food for the two of them as they caught up with their holidays. She had to hide the second tray of tamales in the oven so he wouldn’t help himself to her whole stash. After the plates were forgotten in the sink and the stories had all been shared, they found themselves on the couch. Cuddling and watching some old movie in a daze.

“So, got any plans for tomorrow night?” Derek asked during a commercial break.

“Maybe, why?” Penelope looked at him cautiously.

“I was hoping you could come over to my place, I’ll cook, we can ring in the New Year, just us.”

“Oh!” Penelope gushed, “That sounds perfect! Do you think JJ and Elle would be mad, if I bailed?”

“You tell me, I don’t pretend to understand the minds of women.”

“Oh, bless you, at least you’re cute.” Penelope stroked her boyfriend’s smooth cheek.

“Hey now!” Derek chuckled at her tease.

She held up a finger as she quickly sent a message in their group chat. “Okay, that’s settled. I’m yours for tomorrow!”

“Alright,” Derek leaned in to gently kiss Penelope’s ruby lips. “I better get going, got lots to do.”

“Wait, what?” Penelope stood in alarm. “You’re leaving? After you snuck in here and surprised me?” She gasped, slapping his shoulder. “How did you get in here?!”

“The green frog on your front lawn screamed hidden key, doll.” Derek teased, kissing her again, rubbing his large hands reassuringly over her upper-arms. “I will see you tomorrow night. Seven o’clock.”

“Okay, fine,” Penelope pouted. “You don’t have to rush off now.”

“Good night Penelope.” Derek left a warming last peck just below her ear.

Dec. 30, 2016 8:30pm

Dinner was finally over, freeing Emily from forced conversation and mind-numbing politics. She had given herself an extended trip to one of the far bathrooms to stretch her leash as far as she could. The second her heeled sole hit the marble of the main floor, her mother had swooped her up and dragged her back into the mingling dignitaries and senators.

Near the floor to ceiling windows lining the ball room, Emily spotted a familiar silhouette. She quietly ducked away from the circle of banter, recognizing the forced pleasantries on the young face.

“Michel?” Emily murmured below her breath, trying not to catch either sets of their parents’ attentions.

“Ms. Prentiss!” Michel’s voice cracked, they had shoved them into an ill fitting tuxedo. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, kiddo, I grew up here.” She waved her hand in mock pageantry.

“Right,” Michel exhaled, relaxing ever so slightly. “Does it get any easier?”

“Honestly, no,” Emily, never one for false reassurances. “But, hey, at least you can say you saw the Ice Queen in her natural habitat on Wednesday.”

“You-you know about that?” Michel stammered, laughing despite themselves.

“You would be surprised what I hear, Michel,” Emily nearly smiled at the teen. “So, how’s the tux, stifling?”

They rolled their eyes, “Yes!” Michel opened their coat, flashing their expertly hidden rainbow suspenders. They winked at their English teacher, knowingly.

“Well played,” Emily nodded, impressed. Just then her phone vibrated, JJ was calling. “Uh, I have to take this, see you later!” She rushed off to the mudroom off the kitchen corridor, with an estate this massive, she had plenty of square footage to her advantage.

“Hey.”

“Hey, where are you?” JJ’s voice seemed slightly annoyed.

“Uh, at my parents’, why?” Emily whispered.

“Oh, well, I am at your place,” JJ answered. “I have wine-” she singsonged, temptingly.

“JJ, not tonight, okay?” Emily said exasperatedly into the phone.

“Well, excuse me,” JJ huffed, plopping down on to Emily’s porch swing.

“I am at least an hour away,” Emily explained.”Rain check?”

“Emily, next time, maybe tell me when you have plans.” JJ snipped. “Or better yet, invite me over to meet your parents.”

“JJ, it’s not that simple and you know it.” Emily spat back.

“So you say.” JJ muttered.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Emily tried to wrap the conversation, quickly and peacefully.

“Okay?” JJ answered, a little dumbstruck with the brush off.

“Alright, good night.” Emily quickly hid her phone, but it was just the caterers approaching, completely ignoring the random woman in the hall.

“Good night to you too.” JJ said. She picked up the large bottle of wine and stomped off to her car.

Dec. 31, 2016 9:12pm

The bar was like any other on the crowded street, packed and smelly. The cool air helped alleviate the uncomfortable body heat resonating from every door. The brunette woman held the bathroom door for the blonde as they made their reappearance to the bar proper. Tonight was not a time for holding back, tonight was meant to push limits. Elle began dancing with the first group she found, rolling her hips and flashing a devilish smile at any lurking men. She brought JJ out tonight to forget about Emily’s dismissal, to have fun before they had to return to responsibilities and regulations.

JJ was ordering another round before heading back to the dance floor. After she slipped the slim bartender with the septum ring a mean tip, someone gently tapped her shoulder.

“Do I know you?” A cool Southern drawl called. “Darlin’, I swear I have seen you before.”

The guy was honestly curious, and JJ didn’t mind letting him figure it out. She wasn’t exactly a celebrity, but her face was on the third or fourth tier of recognizable athletes. She had done a few magazine spreads in her hey day. He was from another state, the drawl less pretentious than some of the old money Virginians she taught. His lazy smile and kind eyes drew her in.

“Maybe you have,” JJ shrugged. “Tell you what, if you figure it out, I’ll be on the dance floor.” She smiled coyly, returning to Elle with their third round of the night.

“Who was that?” Elle teased.

“Somebody who recognized me, but couldn’t place me.” JJ confided, swaying to the deep bass as they sipped on their cocktails.

“He’s cute, a little short.” Elle admitted.

“Don’t even say it, Elle,” JJ rolled her eyes.

“What?” Elle faked shock, “I can’t look?”

“Sure, you can look,” JJ conceded. “But I can’t.”

“You can look,” Elle reminded her, conspiratorially.

Just then JJ glanced back to the bar, the sweet stranger waved back. He was scrolling through his phone, trying to figure out who this mystery woman could be.

Jan. 2, 2017 7:38am

The dark corridors were still chilly with lack of inhabitants. Mrs. Kyle shuffled along the well worn floorboards, passing the Guidance Office as she approached the Main Office. This part of the school had been updated, giving the teachers an area to collect mail, as well as space for Ms. Seaver to handle all the incoming phone calls and copies, forms and daily attendance.

But, Ashley wasn’t due back until the kids were, in two days time. Jordan Kyle came in early to rearrange her cupboards after the Winter Cleaning, but mostly to avoid the forced small talk about holidays and families. If anyone here was truly interested, they would already know how each other was doing. There was a time when she was part of the central clique within the faculty, but like a favorite perfume, the need to be included faded with age. Which is why it wasn’t strictly surprising for her to find Gideon in the Main Office that morning. Another veteran teacher, avoiding the social formalities and starting the new year with practiced discipline.

Something was scratching the back of her thoughts, bringing her into the office instead of passing by. Soon she found herself making the insufferable inquiries that she had been carefully avoiding by coming in today.

“Jason, hello!” Her rich voice called, placing her bags gently on the nearest chair. Mr. Gideon spun in the chair, turning his attention to his co-worker and not the spreadsheets shining behind him on the bright monitor.

“Morning, Jordan,” He responded genteelly.

“Did you have a nice break?” She asked, overly enthusiastically.

Jason pyramided his fingers, “It was quiet. You?”

“Yeah, it was a change.” She nodded, pulling her old legs back beneath her. “Well, back at it. Time to check in on Grant’s progress.” Mr. Gideon nodded, spinning back in the chair; Jordan’s eyes found a lot of figures and dollar signs for a history teacher to be worrying over.

She said nothing, but grabbed the few remaining sheets in her mailbox before heading to her office. Jason Gideon was up to something and her stomach wasn’t going to let her forget it.

Jan. 2, 2017 1pm

By the few cars in the staff lot, Aaron was hopeful to tackle the mountain of paperwork he had yet to complete for the end of year assessments and budgets. Upon reaching his office, those hopes were quickly deflated. Perched across from his chair was a stiff-backed Regents President, ready to strike.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Strauss.” Hotch greeted, keeping the annoyance from his tone.

“Hello, Aaron.” Her monotone adding to the alarm growing in his chest.

“What can I do for you?” Hotch hung up his coat and sat opposite, effectively, who was his boss.

“With the coming inauguration, there is going to be a few wrenches thrown into our student body. And our donations. When families have to uproot, our bottom line has to adjust.”

“How would you like me to proceed with the budgets?” Hotch asked dutifully, grabbing a pen and notepad.

“Cut where ever and whenever you can. If we get ahead of the changes, we may remain in the black.” President Strauss was always this frank. “I understand you haven’t had to deal with this sort of undertaking, being a newer Headmaster, but I feel you should be able to have everything set by the next Regents meeting?”

“I will send you my proposals and we can go from there.” Hotch confirmed, watching her fidget with her blazer. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

She smiled without teeth, “Not at this time.” Hotch stood to see her out, thanking her for her visit. Once the overbearing woman was out of his office he fell into his desk, opening spreadsheets and emails until Haley rang him for dinner.

Jan. 2, 2017 10:34pm

“What are you talking about?” Emily demanded, trying to calm JJ down. Her blue eyes were cascading tears, her right hand locked onto her left elbow while her left hand hid her sobbing mouth. From the instant she had been knocking on Emily’s door until she had professed her desire to end things was a cool minute flat. Emily was floored.

“We. Don’t.” JJ sputtered. “Deserve each other. Not anymore.”

“Jayge?” Emily’s voice softened. She stepped closer to her love, trying to soothe her into manageable sentences. Trying to soothe her back into her arms. JJ shook her head, setting her jaw.

“Emily, don’t.” JJ wiped her tears back, straightening her back and her resolve. “We are on different paths and, uh-- we can’t go back now. It’s too late.”

“What’s too late?” Emily pleaded now, her dark eyes filling, distracting her. “JJ, please, talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, Em. I’m so sorry.” JJ rushed passed Emily’s reaching hands, the nail beds destroyed. JJ couldn’t look back, she had destroyed everything and didn’t need to watch Emily falter as her own heart seared inside her chest.

Emily stood at the front door, watching as JJ stormed out into the brisk winter night. She watched as JJ’s tail lights faded into a menacing trail of red tinged darkness. Then she watched the night encase her street, it strolled up her steps, caressing the eaves and porch. Soon the deafening silence found her, too, frozen beside the heavy pained door, where Emily sealed the latch on the last remnant of light in her life.

Jan. 4, 2017 1:42pm

Alex Blake had paired off her Public Speaking class, they were intently scribbling arguments down to their randomly drawn topics. She paced the aisles, pretending to eavesdrop on their points and counterpoints. Though she had an entire other course dedicated strictly to debate, she wanted to build her forensics team with the broadest pool available.

It had been years since she had first felt the adrenaline of the stage, but it was a feeling you never quite forgot. She knew some students took her courses to meet their parents’ expectations, others wanted to shine in a purely intellectual competition, and others just liked to argue. Zachary Hankel was of the third pool, the freshman boy was particularly talented at being, contrary.

“Ms. Blake?” His nasal voice beckoned.

“Yes?”

“How long are we allowed to make our point?”

“It depends on the event. Though the range is from two minutes to five minutes.”

“Thanks.” He turned back towards his partner, junior Kimi Dalton. He was exceptionally polite, however.

The hour dragged on, the teacher answered questions before allowing the first two pairs to make their arguments. She knew she had her hands full when Zachary quoted scripture to back his point. How long before the first debate? ‘Not long enough,’ Alex thought.

Jan. 4, 2017 3:45pm

May Howard had sheepishly followed Lucas and Andrew into the library after school. She didn’t know why some of the team were here and others weren’t, but she wasn’t going to miss out on whatever her buddies were involved in. It turns out it was a science tutoring group organized by Coach Morgan and Dr. Reid. She really didn’t need to be here, but she kept quiet and worked on her homework anyway.

Any afternoon away from Cissy’s gossip and chatter was a good afternoon. She loved her sister, but she didn’t need to hear her all day, everyday. Suddenly she realized, her twin actually did need to be there. She made a mental note to ask Coach if non-athletes were welcome, as Cissy was barely holding her C grade in Bio.

“Hey there, May.” Dr. Reid’s soft voice greeted her. “I, uh, didn’t see your name on the list of borderline grades.”

“Yeah, I know, I just thought this was a team thing, so, here I am.” She explained, keeping her head in her Stats book.

Spencer glanced over at Coach Morgan, they both shrugged. It was what a library was for, after all. The men did their best to keep up with questions without reteaching entire lectures. Derek helped the underclassmen with Biology and Psychology questions. Reid stuck to Chemistry and Physics. The afternoon disappeared before their very eyes, soon they were getting kicked out by a recorded message about security protocol that Ms. Garcia had made to ensure her colleagues were not ever working too late. Regardless of how late she was in the building, of course.

Derek and Spencer watched as the kids filed into their own cars or their waiting carpooling nanny’s. “I think that went well,” the science teacher concluded.

“You bet it did!” Derek held up his fist in celebration. He waited for Spencer to reciprocate. Flummoxed by the gesture, Reid palmed the strong man’s knuckles, shaking the outstretched fist.

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @jodiewhittakers!!!

@ddreammcatcher @ultrarebelheart @lightbluelester @criminal-anatomy   @captainreid  @thebadyears @amarislestrange @shaelyn102 @badasprentiss @fl0werb0nes18 @inestava @sam-carter-in-training @wonderboygenius @fortheloveofpearlet @valentina-pendragon-blog @imarockstar45 @chocok22 @cynbx @fairymega @madamredwrites @doctorspencerreidrp @mindsunleashed @dontshootmespence @bookofreid @marvelfanlife @welp-there-it-is @ilikeitwhenyousleepforyouareso   @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @derpyprentiss @olicia-leeshy @lookwhatyoumademequeue @veroinnumera @sarahkay-19 @sammles27 @lesbian-asajj @teatimewithtiya @braziliangirlonasharkcity @alienlynz @janam03 @nobravery @clockworkballerina @whymesswperfection  @hagridsmumhasgotitgoingon @brooke0297 @XXMADDHATTER39XX  @gurliest @handpaintedgalaxy @kxlley

[fishonoutfitters2-blog]

TIPS FOR YOUR LABOR DAY FISHING TRIP

Labor Day, a 3-day weekend that symbolizes the end of summer vacation, is just around the corner. Though bittersweet, it is the perfect time to go on a fishing trip. Listed below are six important things you need to remember for your upcoming labor day fishing trip.

Look For Open Water

When we say find the open water, it does not mean that you have to search for a secluded area at the center of the ocean or Intracoastal Waterway. You can expect boaters to be very busy during this time of the year as they make the most of their last opportunity to get out on the water before winter comes. If you want to get the finest fishing results, find streams, rivers, lakes, and ponds that do not receive the exact same volume of boating traffic compared to other more famous water bodies. You will also have higher chances of catching more fish if you direct your fishing charter to go to calmer waters.

Fist At Dark

When is as important as where when it comes to avoiding boating traffic. You should consider fishing Myrtle Beach at night because you can take advantage of running into fewer boats. In case you are not prepared to fishing in the evening, you can try fishing at dawn. During this time, the waters is calmer. You will find hungry fish, and find only a few boats.

Go Mobile

Days will soon get cooler and shorter and that means fish will move around more than during the summer season. The weedbeds and humps that have lots of fish in July and August may not be that trustworthy during Labor Day. This holds true for bass, which will start to go into a feeding frenzy as they get ready for winter. Baitfish such as shad will move towards the streams, and that means the bass will be in hot pursuit. Apart from baitfish, salmon, trout, and other migrating species will likewise make way for rivers and streams. You should consider fishing close to rivermouths so you can make the most of the fish that are on the move. The primary method in general when going on a Myrtle Beach fishing trip is to try various areas, and in case you were not able to find any fish in a single spot, you should not be scared to move on to a much faster pace compared to what you might have done during summer.

The Surface Is Your Pal

Although afternoons during Labor Day is just like any typical day in summer, it does not apply to nights, or even throughout shorelines wherein the sun has a more difficult time reaching. Once the water cools down, fish will be going up the water column as they search for warmer waters and baitfish, which in turn will begin to move near the surface. This also applies to lake trout and other cold water species, which are expected to move to shallow surfaces during Labor Day. You will obtain great results through low diving crankbaits, suspended baits, as well as trolling at shallower surfaces.

Wear The Right Clothes

Labor Day weekend still feels like any other summer weekend. However, you still need to check the weather reports so you know the clothes that you should wear for your fishing trip.

Cold Fronts

You need to be aware of any cold fronts not just for your own sake but their effects on the results of your fishing trip. In most cases, an upcoming cold front means warm water fish like largemouth bass will start feeding. When the front starts and passes, fish will not bite that much. If you fish in this stage, you should use lighter lures as well as presentation to encourage this hesitant feeders. What you need to do is to slow down.

Call Fish-On Outfitters if you are planning a fishing trip on Labor Day.

Fish-On Outfitters 800 Sea Mountain Hwy North Myrtle Beach, SC 29582 (843) 249-2600 http://www.fish-on-outfitters.com

[clubwholesaleweb]

Winter Panfish

Into the Deep for Winter Panfish

By: David Duwe

For many years, my father and I were plagued with catching only 5 to 6 inch panfish while ice fishing in the shallow weed flats.   My how things have changed, with Vexilar and Marcum fish locators, 5-6 inch panfish are a thing of the past. The ability to see underneath the ice opened up the deep water structure on many local lakes. With fish locators, ice fishermen can now work the deep water locations where the larger panfish reside.

When I say deep water locations, I’m referring depths from 18-30 ft.   The deep water panfish bite relies on clear water, enabling weeds to grow in depths of 20-27 ft. Some of the best deep water lakes in Southeast Wisconsin are Big Cedar Lake in Washington County, Pleasant Lake and Turtle Lake in Walworth County and Beaver Lake in Waukesha County.

The deep water fish are roaming; they aren’t concentrated in one spot for long because of the lack of structure. One needs to keep moving around, hole-hopping if you will, to find the aggressive fish. Most often the fish are tight to the bottom and you won’t see them on your locator until the jig gets near them. Another benefit of deep water fishing is the multiple species that you can catch. Not only do the bluegills use the main lake basin, but you can also find perch, white bass and an occasional largemouth bass. To get started, I begin on a weedline in 12 feet of water and gradually drill holes and go deeper finding the larger active fish. Most of the time, the fish are off any kind of weed in 20-25 feet of water.

My most sought after query…

In mid-winter is the yellow perch. Deep water perch fishing is my most constant pattern.   Deeper water to me means greater than 20 feet. The biggest challenge of ice fishing perch is locating them.   A good pair of boots and a Vexilar flasher is a necessity. Perch roam in small to massive schools. Finding an active school can provide all day action. It is always better to bring a friend along both for safety and eliminating unproductive water. Make sure your fishing buddy’s wife enjoys reading as it will help insure a long day out on the ice. Once I get to my desired area, I will drill a bunch of holes and start searching. Perch can be belly to the bottom or suspended up from the bottom. I will always fish the suspended fish first to prevent spooking the lower fish. Make sure to fish every hole a sufficient amount of time as the fish won’t show up on the Vexilar until a bait is presented. A good search bait is the Lindy Rattlin’ Flyer. The lure can be fished quickly to help find the roaming schools. These spoons put out plenty of flash and the good vibrations. Hop the spoon off the bottom a few times to see if you can get the actively feeding fish. As I am working the bait, I am constantly watching my Vexilar FL-20.

Spoons are good for actively feeding perch, however most of the time perch are neutral or in a negatively feeding pattern. With this in mind, it’s time to get subtle. A tear drop jig or Lindy’s new Toad jig are great choices. When fishing in deep or dirty water applications, the color choice is important, always use a glow color. This adds visibility to aid in the bite. Add a heavy weight 3 to 4 inches above the jig.   The heavy weights are called pencil weights or I like a weight attractor by Tommy Harris Blades called an agitator in a ½ oz weight. The weight allows you to fish faster, getting the jig to the fish. Fishing faster in deep water, prevents the fish from roaming away before you catch as many as possible. To help pick up the pencil weight on the Vexilar, I add a very small washer above the weight. Again, fish suspended fish first as you don’t want to spook the whole school. Tip your ice jigs with spikes or wax worms. If I am over a big school, I will put another pole down, a dead stick, about 1 foot above. A dead stick is a pole you just let fish without any action. I will bait my dead stick poles with live bait, a small minnow or wiggler.

I use a stiff small jig pole…

With a spinning reel spooled with 4 lb. test. Fishing in such deep water you will need to reel in the fish. Also, when the fish bite the stiffer rod, it will let you set the hook more effectively. Because of this, I use a spring bobber. Consider the sensitivity of the spring bobber; don’t use one for bluegills because they are too sensitive with the heavy weight. I always try to have multiple poles rigged so I can change baits quickly without having to re-tie. A change of bait can entice a lot of the non-biters and get a school active again.

At night, crappies move into more open water. They are notorious for suspending throughout the water column. Crappies will school up in large numbers and wander throughout the lake feeding. With the fish off structure in the main lake basin the depth varies and is very dependent on the body of water you are fishing.   The constant for most lakes is the crappies will suspend off bottom.

For schooling crappies…

I will try to fish three poles, which is the maximum allowed in the state. Two of the poles are dead sticks and the third will be in my jigging hand. The presentation I use is similar to summertime slip bobber fishing. I use a small Thill bobber with a small treble hook (size 16), and a small split shot. I like to position one of the dead sticks about a foot off bottom and the other will be 2-3 ft. off bottom. Minnows are undisputedly my favorite bait for late ice crappies. Of course, when using a locator you will be able to see exactly the depth they are coming in at. You can adjust your presentation to match their location within the water column. My jigging rod will have a small spinning reel spooled with 4 lb. Silver Thread. I found that lighter line isn’t essential when you are fishing at night.

On my jig pole I will use a spring bobber. Unlike most fish, crappies will strike both in an upward or downward motion. When a fish bites it usually jiggles your spring bobber downward. When a fish is biting upward, your spring bobber will go straight. This indicates an upward bite. You need to set the hook fast. When fishing a Thill bobber, if a fish bites upward your bobber will go flat on the surface of the water.

Fishing for panfish beneath the ice can be great fun, you just need to know where to look!

The post Winter Panfish appeared first on Morning Moss.

Winter Panfish posted first on bestfishingreview.blogspot.com

[largemouthbassnation]

Catch Largemouth in 100ft of Water! Suspended Bass Fish Want to learn how to fish for suspended bass? Want to learn how to catch bass in a lake with blueback herring?

[toddkelly2]

Winter Panfish

Into the Deep for Winter Panfish

By: David Duwe

For many years, my father and I were plagued with catching only 5 to 6 inch panfish while ice fishing in the shallow weed flats.   My how things have changed, with Vexilar and Marcum fish locators, 5-6 inch panfish are a thing of the past. The ability to see underneath the ice opened up the deep water structure on many local lakes. With fish locators, ice fishermen can now work the deep water locations where the larger panfish reside.

When I say deep water locations, I’m referring depths from 18-30 ft.   The deep water panfish bite relies on clear water, enabling weeds to grow in depths of 20-27 ft. Some of the best deep water lakes in Southeast Wisconsin are Big Cedar Lake in Washington County, Pleasant Lake and Turtle Lake in Walworth County and Beaver Lake in Waukesha County.

The deep water fish are roaming; they aren’t concentrated in one spot for long because of the lack of structure. One needs to keep moving around, hole-hopping if you will, to find the aggressive fish. Most often the fish are tight to the bottom and you won’t see them on your locator until the jig gets near them. Another benefit of deep water fishing is the multiple species that you can catch. Not only do the bluegills use the main lake basin, but you can also find perch, white bass and an occasional largemouth bass. To get started, I begin on a weedline in 12 feet of water and gradually drill holes and go deeper finding the larger active fish. Most of the time, the fish are off any kind of weed in 20-25 feet of water.

My most sought after query…

In mid-winter is the yellow perch. Deep water perch fishing is my most constant pattern.   Deeper water to me means greater than 20 feet. The biggest challenge of ice fishing perch is locating them.   A good pair of boots and a Vexilar flasher is a necessity. Perch roam in small to massive schools. Finding an active school can provide all day action. It is always better to bring a friend along both for safety and eliminating unproductive water. Make sure your fishing buddy’s wife enjoys reading as it will help insure a long day out on the ice. Once I get to my desired area, I will drill a bunch of holes and start searching. Perch can be belly to the bottom or suspended up from the bottom. I will always fish the suspended fish first to prevent spooking the lower fish. Make sure to fish every hole a sufficient amount of time as the fish won’t show up on the Vexilar until a bait is presented. A good search bait is the Lindy Rattlin’ Flyer. The lure can be fished quickly to help find the roaming schools. These spoons put out plenty of flash and the good vibrations. Hop the spoon off the bottom a few times to see if you can get the actively feeding fish. As I am working the bait, I am constantly watching my Vexilar FL-20.

Spoons are good for actively feeding perch, however most of the time perch are neutral or in a negatively feeding pattern. With this in mind, it’s time to get subtle. A tear drop jig or Lindy’s new Toad jig are great choices. When fishing in deep or dirty water applications, the color choice is important, always use a glow color. This adds visibility to aid in the bite. Add a heavy weight 3 to 4 inches above the jig.   The heavy weights are called pencil weights or I like a weight attractor by Tommy Harris Blades called an agitator in a ½ oz weight. The weight allows you to fish faster, getting the jig to the fish. Fishing faster in deep water, prevents the fish from roaming away before you catch as many as possible. To help pick up the pencil weight on the Vexilar, I add a very small washer above the weight. Again, fish suspended fish first as you don’t want to spook the whole school. Tip your ice jigs with spikes or wax worms. If I am over a big school, I will put another pole down, a dead stick, about 1 foot above. A dead stick is a pole you just let fish without any action. I will bait my dead stick poles with live bait, a small minnow or wiggler.

I use a stiff small jig pole…

With a spinning reel spooled with 4 lb. test. Fishing in such deep water you will need to reel in the fish. Also, when the fish bite the stiffer rod, it will let you set the hook more effectively. Because of this, I use a spring bobber. Consider the sensitivity of the spring bobber; don’t use one for bluegills because they are too sensitive with the heavy weight. I always try to have multiple poles rigged so I can change baits quickly without having to re-tie. A change of bait can entice a lot of the non-biters and get a school active again.

At night, crappies move into more open water. They are notorious for suspending throughout the water column. Crappies will school up in large numbers and wander throughout the lake feeding. With the fish off structure in the main lake basin the depth varies and is very dependent on the body of water you are fishing.   The constant for most lakes is the crappies will suspend off bottom.

For schooling crappies…

I will try to fish three poles, which is the maximum allowed in the state. Two of the poles are dead sticks and the third will be in my jigging hand. The presentation I use is similar to summertime slip bobber fishing. I use a small Thill bobber with a small treble hook (size 16), and a small split shot. I like to position one of the dead sticks about a foot off bottom and the other will be 2-3 ft. off bottom. Minnows are undisputedly my favorite bait for late ice crappies. Of course, when using a locator you will be able to see exactly the depth they are coming in at. You can adjust your presentation to match their location within the water column. My jigging rod will have a small spinning reel spooled with 4 lb. Silver Thread. I found that lighter line isn’t essential when you are fishing at night.

On my jig pole I will use a spring bobber. Unlike most fish, crappies will strike both in an upward or downward motion. When a fish bites it usually jiggles your spring bobber downward. When a fish is biting upward, your spring bobber will go straight. This indicates an upward bite. You need to set the hook fast. When fishing a Thill bobber, if a fish bites upward your bobber will go flat on the surface of the water.

Fishing for panfish beneath the ice can be great fun, you just need to know where to look!

The post Winter Panfish appeared first on Morning Moss.

from Morning Moss http://morningmoss.com/winter-panfish/

[fishingtipsonlinesite-blog]

Jerkbait Tips For Winter Bass Fishing Featuring Capn' Ron!!!

Jerkbait Tips For Winter Bass Fishing Featuring Capn’ Ron!!!

Capn’ Ron gives us the full in-depth tips on how to catch winter bass on a suspending jerkbait today! Thanks for watching!

Seasonal Map Chip- https://www.yourlakeforkguide.com/onl…

Be sure to enter the code yourlakeforkguide for a 10% discount on . https://6thsensefishing.com/

Smashtech Custom Baits- https://smashtechbaits.com/

M-Pack Shad- http://mpacklures.com/product-categor…

My…

[panfishonthefly]

The Top Five Flies For Autumn Panfish

The autumn season is right around the corner. While I could not wait for warmer weather to arrive this past winter, this summer’s oppressive heat has me looking forward to some cooler weather. Autumn has always been my favorite time of the year, and it is one of the best times to be on the water. The fish seem to sense winter’s advance and feed more aggressively in an attempt to prepare themselves for the leaner times cold weather brings. Cooling water temperatures also cause weed growth to begin dying back. In many watersheds, this opens up new waters to anglers, that have been weed-choked for many months. Before I list my favorite fall patterns lets discuss our options.

Top Water

My favorite way to catch panfish is on top. During the dog days of summer, many panfish, especially the larger ones, seek refuge from the heat in deeper waters. When the water begins to cool these larger fish often enter the shallows again in search of food. Despite the cooling air and water temperatures, panfish will still feed on the surface for most of the fall season depending on where you are located. I realize that fall comes in with a vengeance in some parts of the country. In those are your season will be shortened. For those of us in the central and southern part of the country, we enjoy a more extended fishing season.

My favorite topwater flies are bees, terrestrial patterns, adult damselflies, and dragonflies with small poppers thrown in for good measure. Of course, the Triangle Bug remains a favorite this time of year as well. The topwater bite will continue to be good until the first killing frost when these larger insects die off. After that, you may still enjoy some great topwater action, but you may have to downsize your flies. When things begin to cool off midges become the predominant active insect and bluegills, and other panfish will feed on them with abandon.

Nymphs

Nymphs are an important food source for bluegills and other panfish year-round. All the usual patterns will still be effective, but my method of fishing them changes. I prefer to fish them as part of a popper/dropper system early in the season when large amounts of subsurface weeds are still present. I can set the depth of the dropper to present the nymph right over the top of the weed beds. This technique often results in large numbers of fish. Once the aquatic vegetation starts dying back, I switch over to traditional stripping and hand twist retrieves when fishing nymph patterns.

Streamers

With all of the young of the year fish swimming around streamers can be very effective in the fall. Big panfish often include small fish in their diet. Streamers probably catch more fish in late summer and early fall than any other time of the year. Keep the flies on the small side, and you will catch plenty of big hand-sized panfish. Keep a tight grip on that rod as you are likely to attract the attention of larger predators like bass and pickerel as well!

Wet flies

If you have read the pages of this blog for any length of time, you will know that wet flies produce more fish for me than all other patterns combined. The weedy waters of summer often prevent me from fishing these patterns. The coming of autumn and the dying off of aquatic vegetation means I can once again fish wet flies without having to clear snagged weeds off my hook on every cast. Late in the season as the water really cools down, I will switch over entirely to wet fly patterns and fish them with a painfully slow hand twist retrieve.

The Top Five

I list these flies in no particular order as one may fish better than the other on any given day depending on conditions. I’ll start off with two topwater patterns since I will be throwing topwater bugs at every opportunity. With winter around the corner, these days fishing topwater flies may be my last until next spring.

1. Yellow Jacket/Bee: Although I mentioned large terrestrials, damsels, and dragons earlier in this article, the first pattern I reach for in the fall is usually a bee pattern. Yellowjackets become very active in my area at this time of year and often find their way into the water. Even though they have a nasty sting fish seem to relish Yellowjackets and other bees when they find themselves in the drink! You read more about bluegills feeding on bees and get a recipe for one of my favorite bee patterns by clicking the button below!

2. Poppers/Sliders: When I want to suspend a nymph below a floating fly, I usually reach for a popper. These high floating patterns can support the weight of a nymph hanging under them with ease. Poppers also often attract the attention of larger fish, and that keeps things interesting. Poppers can be store bought or easily made yourself using a variety of materials like cork, balsa wood, foam even deer hair! The simple popper body in the photograph above was made in seconds using the Gary Krebs Popper Jig Set.

As I mentioned earlier to keep things interesting, I like to fish a slightly larger popper than I would typically fish for panfish. By larger I mean something in the area of a size six. A popper this size can still be easily taken by larger panfish put is also big enough to attract the attention of larger predators like largemouth bass. A larger popper also does a better job holding up a subsurface pattern if you plan on fishing a popper/dropper rig. A long time favorite of mine have been poppers created with Flymen Fishing Company Surface Seducer Double Barrel Popper Bodies. These bodies allow you to easily create great looking poppers. Better yet, these poppers are now available as a finished popper, perfect for the non-fly tying angler!

I put sliders into this same category and use them when I want a more subtle presentation. A slider is a floating popper type pattern that lacks a flat or cup faced leading edge. They can be purchased commercially or made yourself by using preformed bodies. The Surface Seducer bodies mentioned earlier can be made into a great slider pattern by simply reversing the body on the hook.

3. The Bream Killer: I chose the Bream Killer as a nymph pattern because it is one of my favorite flies to suspend under a popper or other topwater bug. The fly sinks slowly and seductively often taking fish on the drop. Those rubber legs quiver while the fly is at rest suspended beneath a topwater bug, proving to be irresistible to big panfish. I fish this bug in several sizes, fishing larger flies early in the autumn season and progress to smaller sizes as the season winds on, and water temperatures drop.

4. The Hornberg Special: I like this pattern for its versatility. I can fish it like a dry fly as the fly will float when dry. After a few twitches on the surface without a strike, I will drag it under and retrieve it like a streamer. I like the Hornberg Special as a streamer pattern because its shape in the water is close to that of young of the year panfish. I tie it in both like and dark colors to match the colors of the most prominent prey species present.

5.: Soft Hackles: My last pattern is a type of fly rather than a particular pattern. I will fish a variety of soft hackle wet flies in several different colors. Some of my favorites are Partridge & Yellow, Partridge & Green, Hare’s Ear, Partridge & Peacock, and Partridge & Pheasant Tail. Wet flies and soft hackle patterns are my go-to flies for panfish. This type of fly catches more fish for me on a yearly basis than all other patterns combined!

Don’t exchange the fly rod for the shotgun or bow just yet. There is still plenty of good fishing ahead of us!

[marineclarity]

Bottom Fishing Rigs You can use to catch more fish

Backside fishing rigs will be very productive for a lot of sorts of fish any time of the yr.  Sure, that’s the place most snags lurk however so do many much less lively fish within the winter. Within the warmth of the summer season, fish could drop to deeper areas for cooler water. For all different instances, the benthic zone is a continuing supply of prey gadgets akin to crayfish and different invertebrates if there may be enough oxygen and there isn’t an excessive amount of silt. Backside fishing is not only for catfish and carp.  Species akin to bass, yellow perch, and trout will be caught with the appropriate backside fishing rigs too.

The drop shot is likely one of the greatest backside fishing rigs, able to reaching and taunting largemouth and smallmouth bass in deeper water, and is even utilized in shallower areas by some professional anglers akin to Aaron Martens. With this rig, the burden is tear drop formed and is tied on the finish of the road, such that the hook and normally a mushy plastic minnow formed lure or worm, truly suspends a number of inches above the underside.

The important thing learn how to fish this freshwater backside fishing rig is to maintain it in touch with the underside.  Just a bit wiggle of the rod tip will do the trick. Others attempt to maintain the mushy plastic nonetheless, because the boat rocks.  The fish chew has been described by bass fishing TV present host, Mark Zona, as “mushy.” He claims it could really feel “such as you hooked a moist sock.”  Such a backside fishing lures should not practiced for the energy of the hit; it’s employed just because it really works.

Texas and Carolina rigs are common backside fishing rigs for large largemouth bass.  With the Texas rig a bullet weight is in opposition to the hook; with a Carolina rig, a swivel and bead are used to separate the bullet weight about 18” or so from a big mushy plastic worm. Forged out, let it hit the underside, after which drag it slowly throughout the underside till you’re feeling a thump. Then drop the rod tip for a second of two and set the hook onerous.

The perfect backside fishing rigs usually merely are depending on the appropriate break up shot weight.  If you wish to select the perfect backside fishing rigs for trout, begin small, add slightly bit at a time and regulate the space from the fly or bait to get the presentation in the appropriate zone throughout a drift. I just like the detachable sort of break up shot however remember the fact that the set of prolonged break up shot weight tabs could cling up slightly extra on the underside than the usual, spherical easy sort. Relying on the dimensions of the substrate gravel and water movement, this might not be a foul factor.

There are some nice backside fishing lures too.  Heavy jigs, paired with a bit of soppy plastic to resemble a crayfish are hopped alongside the underside, attractive huge bass.  Thick, heavy jigging spoons flutter deep to succeed in striped bass and lake trout. Small however quickly sinking tail spinners work properly for deep crappie in late summer season. And naturally, there are long- lipped diving plugs. Make an extended solid, then crank it down and dig that lip into the underside, bumping rocks and timber to attract strikes. That’s, in case your fishing license is updated after all.

(function(d, s, id) var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = “http://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.5&appId=102171410767”; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); (document, ‘script’, ‘facebook-jssdk’));

The post Bottom Fishing Rigs You can use to catch more fish appeared first on Marineclarity.com.