#his mid section is so neat!! :]c

[stormbreaker-290]

Malware,,,,,,,, save me,,,,, ,, , ,,,,, save me Malware,,,,, ,,,,,, , ,,,,, ,,,,,, ,,,

drew @bumble-the-sun-bee's dca oc that i love a n.ormal amount. :)

EUBAHGSGSHSHSBSHSHS Malware my beloved,,,,,,,,, :33

(ough god tumblr fucking disintegrated this one. tap for better quality i promise it looks way better <//3)

[safyresky]

If your Christmas prompts are still open, I wanna request #22. Holiday lights BUT! It has to involve Lucy in it. She is my girl :)

(25 Days of Christmas Prompts) (which yes, now that I got this one out I am STILL DOING! send them in if ur vibin!)

Lucy? LUCY? HELL YEAH. I stole ur blorbo too btws, I hope that's okay given the uh, joint custody. IT'S MY WEEK NOW (/jk). I just think he neat 🥺🥺. Also this is why this took so long. I was so nervous about the blorbo, then i went into OVERTHINK M O D E like 'oh god but now there's not enough LUCY?!?! It was an experience. But then I realized THREE THINGS: A) Jacqueline ships BlackIce SO HARD, B) so does Lucy in my head at least, and C) if there were any two people to bully Jack into letting someone help, it'd be Jacquie and Killian lmao. I HOPE I DID THE BLORBO JUSTICE. ENJOY!

Holiday Lights

"Are you sure you don't want me to call someone?" Lucy asked, frowning.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm positive! I've got it under control," Jack said, dangling from the eavestrough. "This is all part of the process!"

Lucy strongly disagreed.

It had been very nice for Jack to offer to help her put up lights at her new place. Really nice! It was just. He wasn't someone she'd have asked, personally. Her Dad would've helped! But he was very busy during the holiday season, which was totally fine. Lucy got it. Holidays made people come face to face with a lot of issues so, you know, therapy.

Uncle Scott would've been happy to help, too, but it was literally his busy season and she hadn't wanted to add more to his list.

Charlie was on a hiking trip with Danielle for the next two weeks, and even though he'd have been able to just snap his fingers and poof! Lucy's new place would be lit up (perks to being a Legate), the weather wasn't going to stay this mild forever (Jack had assured her that snow was coming). She was a HOMEOWNER now, and she was determined to make it look just as cozy for the holidays as everyone else did on her street, before everything got all icy and cold.

And unfortunately for her, Jack was determined to help. Mainly out of spite, since when he had offered Uncle Scott had scoffed and that had started a whole. THING.

Lucy huffed, an errant lock of hair floating up, then down. "I can see if any of the neighbours have a ladder!"

"I don't need a ladder," Jack insisted, swinging his legs back and forth. "I just need to get back on solid ground and it'll be fine."

"I don't think you should be swinging like that—"

A sharp, metal screech rang through the air. The section of gutter Jack was holding onto had bent forward mid-swing, pushing him farther away from the solid ground he needed.

"—because of that," Lucy said with a sigh.

"This is fine," Jack said, even though it was most decidedly not fine. He was even farther from the roof now, and the actual ground was. A little bit of a long way down. "This is exactly what I wanted to do."

"Yeah, no. I'm calling backup."

"Please, Luce. There's really no need! I just need to," he trailed off with a frown, looking down at the ground. "Ah. Right. No snow. Well, if I just..." he lifted a leg; the gutter groaned, sinking lower.

Lucy sighed, puling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts. "Unbelievable," she said, swiping right when she saw Jacqueline's contact on her recent list.

It rang twice before the younger, not-as-stubborn winter sprite picked up.

"Yellow!"

"Hi Jacquie!"

"Oh, hey Lucy! What's up?"

"You're brother's doing some dumb shit and refusing to let me help him not be dumb, can you—"

"Girl. You had me at dumb shit. I'll be right over! I'm just in line at Timmies."

"Timmies?"

"Yeah, you know. Timmy hoe's? Tim's? Tim Horton's? Canadian institution? I'm in Saskatchewan. Huge polar vortex on the go and I'm babysitting it. Want anything?"

"Oh! Tim Horton's! Can you get me that smoothie thing? The pink one?"

"Sure! Does Jack want anything?"

Lucy looked up at the Legend. She almost asked; almost. But then she remembered that his hands were otherwise occupied hanging off of her eavestrough, and decided that stubborn Legendary Figures who refused help to prove a point to a fellow Legend who wasn't even HERE didn't deserve mediocre treats from Canadian institutions.

"He's good," Lucy said. "See you soon?"

"Yep, see you soon, Luce. Hi there! could I please get—" the line clicked dead.

"You did NOT just call Jacqueline."

"I did!" Lucy shouted back up, chipper. "You're hanging off of the gutters on the second floor of my house, Jack! And you're being really persnickety about getting help, so who better to convince you than your younger sister? Younger sisters can be very convincing. I would know, I am one."

Jack groaned, throwing his head back. The eavestrough copied him.

A few errant snowflakes breezed by, Jacqueline turning the corner around the garage in her work clothes, slurping an icy, chocolatey looking drink, large aviators on her face. She stopped beside Lucy, passing her a pink smoothie and looking up at Jack with a snort.

"You didn't get me anything?" Jack shouted down.

"Lucy said you were good, and she had a point! Your hands look a little full right now," Jacqueline shouted back up with a shrug, Lucy laughing around her straw. "So anyway. What the fuck are you doing?" Jacqueline asked. "Lady above, I sure do love being in the human world," she added as an aside, Lucy laughing in response.

"My best! Which, need I remind you, Mom says is good enough!" Jack said, once more swinging himself back and forth.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Jacqueline asked.

"Well," Jack began, a bit gruffly. "There's no snow on the ground and my hands are a bit preoccupied right now. I can't quite hop down to the roof from here. If I keep doing this though, it should swing back enough for me to hop back onto the roof, and get that last corner."

"He sounds very sure of himself," Lucy said.

"That's the scary part," Jacqueline replied. She took another long, obnoxious, slurp. "I can just make a snow ramp for you! Or like, send you a wind!"

"I don't need help, Jacqueline!"

She slurped again. "Lady of the Springs, he is being stubborn."

"I know!" Lucy said, throwing her hands up, exasperated.

"How did he even end up. Well. Like THAT?"

Lucy sighed. "I don't have a ladder. He said he didn't need one and walked up the side of the house. He was trying to get that last corner, but we got rain overnight so it was all wet and yucky, so he froze it and—"

Jacqueline choked. "HE SLIPPED ON ICE?!?!?!?" She turned to the now very grumpy Jack, hanging away on the gutter. "YOU, JACK FUCKING FROST, SLIPPED ON ICE?! YOUR OWN ICE? THAT YOU MADE?!?!?!?"

"YOU ARE MY LEAST FAVOURITE SISTER," he shouted back, the eavestrough groaning.

"YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT!"

"He needs help, Jacquie. And he's being so stubborn about it I called reinforcements. So what should we do?"

"He's being such a wooden spoon," Jacqueline scoffed in agreement. She slurped once more, sticking out a glowing hand. A steady stream of snow blasted forward, layering itself up and up and up, twisting and turning until it stopped just below Jack, glittering in the sun.

"JUST SLIDE DOWN IT!"

"I DON'T NEED OR WANT YOUR HELP, JACQUELINE," Jack shouted back. He kicked his foot forward. The ramp fractured. The fracture grew bigger, cracking all the way down, smaller cracks shooting out to the sides, fern like fractals spreading out from the little cracks. The main crack hit the bottom, and with a loud POOF, the snowy ramp dissipated into a rather large snow bank.

"What is WRONG WITH YOU?!" Jacqueline demanded.

"What part of I don't need or want your help did you NOT understand?!"

The eavestrough groaned once more, dipping down even farther. Jack's hands slipped down a bit; he grimaced.

"Jack you are HANGING from a GUTTER," Lucy said, hands on her hips. "I know you really wanna prove Uncle Scott wrong but don't you think this is a little much?"

"No," Jack said, the same time Jacqueline said "He definitely does not."

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. "We've gotta get him down from there. Being nice isn't working."

"I hate that Jack and Santa are trapped in like, this eternal pissing contest where they just have to one up each other every time," Jacqueline huffed.

"We've gotta like, one up the both of them. Or like, maybe try a different approach? We could embarrass him, maybe? Roast him? Annoy him until he accepts our help? Maybe even be mean?"

Jacqueline's face lit up. "I have an idea," she said. She leant in close, whispering into Lucy's ear.

The redhead's face lit up now, too. "Do it," she said.

"I don't like your tone," Jack said from the roof, trying to slowly climb his way up the eavestrough now. "What are you two doing?!"

"Oh, nothing!" Jacqueline said sweetly, pulling her phone out of her pouch pocket. She popped the pop socket out, twirling it between her fingers before unlocking the phone, and scrolling through her contacts. The metallic blue back of her phone sparkled in the sunlight, the reflection nearly blinding Jack.

"That doesn't look like nothing, Jacqueline!"

She slurped in response, scrolling through her phone until she found who she was looking for. She smirked, straw still in her mouth, and clicked call.

"Oh my god, Hi Kills! You would not BELIEVE what dumb shit Jack is doing," she said, walking away, as Jack felt the colour in his face drain as fast as the crap that had been caught in the gutter had sloshed on him when he grabbed it to keep from falling in the first place.

"She's not actually calling him, is she, Luce?"

"Sorry Jack, you forced our hands," Lucy said, shaking her head sadly and trying very hard to hold back a smile in favour of a more serious facade.

"You're not sorry at all," he said, somehow managing to succeed in sliding up the gutter more.

Lucy covered her laugh with her hand, Jacqueline joining her side once more. "I know I'm not," she sassed with a smirk, Lucy having to physically turn away to hide her laughter, busying herself with a very long pull of her smoothie.

"Of course you aren't," Jack said, flushing as he heard the familiar sound of someone stepping out of the shadows.

And sighing, annoyed, when this was followed by a very loud bout of laughter.

"Jack, you know, I'm all for your crazy shenanigans, but this one? You're gonna have to walk me through it," Killian, the Boogeyman himself, taunted, stopping beside Jacqueline, his hands in his pockets, an amused look on his face.

"Nice to see you too, Killian," Jack said, with a resolute sigh.

"Kills. It is so important to me that you ask me how he got there."

"Jacqueline, how on earth did he get there?" Killian asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

"HE SLIPPED ON ICE!"

Now all three of them were laughing. Jack was sure that if his face turned any redder, his hair would combust and turn to fire.

"The only thing that would make this funnier," Killian said, wiping away a tear, "Is if it was his own ice."

"Oh well I am about to MAKE your DAY—"

"JACQUELINE DO NOT—"

"IT WAS," Jacqueline shouted over Jack, with an absolutely FERAL grin.

The laughter started up again. Jack felt himself sliding back down, the little progress he had made reversing in an instant.

"Sure you still don't want any help?" Lucy asked.

"I'm sure he's fine," Killian said with a smirk. "It looks like he's just hanging out."

Lucy laughed; Jacqueline snorted. "That was bad."

"So bad it was good," Killian replied. "Seriously though, Jack. What is all this?"

"Santa doesn't think that I can put up Christmas lights," Jack began. "I'm merely proving him wrong."

"Wrong?" Killian asked. "That doesn't look," he held back a laugh. "Are you sure you know the meaning of the word?"

"He absolutely does not," Jacqueline said, giving her icy confection a stir.

"I do so!"

"Do not!"

"Do so! This is all going as planned—"

"It is not," Killian said. "How is this part of the plan, snowman?"

"You rat bastard, I'll have you know that I got a whole side of the house done! See? Look at them! They're sticking to the house better than the eavestrough is!"

"And where do you fall on that scale?" Killian asked, eyebrow raised.

Jack slid down the eaves some more.

"Better than the eaves, but worse than the lights," Jacqueline said thoughtfully, Lucy snorting.

Killian smirked. "I actually think the eaves are doing better than him."

Jack gasped indignantly.

Both girls were doubled over in laughter at this point; Jacqueline was leaning on Lucy's back, the young adult holding her knees as she wheezed.

"Oh, what would you know about eaves?" Jack snapped.

"More then you, apparently, since I wouldn't have grabbed them to stop a fall in the first place!"

"I'm not going to fall!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not! I told you, everything is under control—" the eaves bent even more, cutting Jack off.

"There's no way they can keep supporting you, especially with how close to the edge you are. Why are you being so stubborn?!" Killian demanded.

"BeCAUSE," Jack replied, "Scott was way jerkier than usual about it! He is not aging with grace and it shows."

"That's actually very true," Jacqueline said, Lucy nodding in agreement.

"See? Anyway, it's a matter of pride, Kills!"

"When isn't it with you?"

"I—okay fine, that's fair. You got me there," Jack conceded, Killian crossing his arms with a satisfied smile.

"If you're not gonna let any of us help, the least you can do is a flip on your way down," Kills said.

"That's so mean!"

"Let him have this, Jack!" Jacqueline said. "You broke the guy's heart! I think he deserves to see you flip on your way down!"

"Thank you, Jacqueline." Killian said, dryly. "That's very sweet in a very. You way."

"I try," she said with a shrug, her ponytail happily bouncing, any double meaning flying right over her head. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You know, Scott's not even here! How would he know if you got help?"

"That whole, creepy, he sees you when you're sleeping? Knows when you're awake?"

"No he doesn't."

"Yes he does!"

"No, he doesn't!"

"Yes, he DOES!"

"Our powers don't work on each other, Jack! He can't see you!"

Jack blinked slowly, realization hitting. "Our powers don't work on other Legendary—oh, shit. You are so r—"

But before Jack could finish, the eavestrough finally gave out. With one last groan, it snapped, and Jack went flying.

Lucy gasped, stepping forward then stopping, unsure how to help. Jacqueline and Killian lunged forwards at the same time.

The snow bank beneath Jack swirled up, meeting him halfway and sliding him forwards. He flipped through the air, a pair of shadowy arms reaching out and grabbing him before he could hit the ground.

He landed, bridal style, right into Killian's arms. He blinked up at the man.

Killian blinked back.

Jack blushed.

Killian smirked.

"Sorry, you were going to say something?"

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were. I think it was something about me being right?"

"That doesn't sound right."

"No you definitely were," Jacqueline said.

"And you were ALSO going to say that not asking for help is stupid and competing against Uncle Scott is stupid and that this whole thing you two do all the time is stupid," Lucy said, ticking each item off her fingers, Jacqueline nodding and slurping in agreement.

"Well how do I know you guys won't tell?" Jack said, crossing his arms in a huff (still being held by Killian).

"I'll make sure that Uncle Scott knows you did an amazing job with no help at all," Lucy said, sweetly. "I promise."

"I'm no snitch," Jacqueline said.

"That's a lie," Jack said.

"No it's not!" Jacqueline said, aghast.

"And if she does tattle," Killian said, turning his head almost completely around to face her, exorcism style. "I'll eat her toes."

"THAT doesn't work on me anymore," Jacqueline said. "You're not going to eat my toes."

"Yes he will," Jack said. "Fingers AND toes!"

"I don't believe that for a second, but I am very fond of those appendages so you have my word, I will NOT tattle, Sprite's honour, I swear. Please stop looking at me like that, Killian, it's making my neck hurt for you."

Satisfied with the sprite's promise, Killian turned back to Jack. "You'll let us help now?"

"Yeah, sure," Jack said.

"Good. I'm going to put you down now."

"And I was just getting comfortable," Jack replied.

Now it was his turn to blush. The boogeyman frowned, looking away and dropping Jack into the snow pile below him. The sprite landed with an oof, the snow poofing up around him.

Both Legendary figures completely missed the look Lucy and Jacqueline shared, and the subsequent fist bump of a job well done.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

I just wanna say, though, Quackity’s use of cutscenes for his stream was SO well done, they were so well utilized.

The cutscenes in Tales are fine, but narratively they’re not really there for a purpose? They’re just a neat way to show off a cool build.

What Quackity’s done here is used the cutscenes to further the story in a way that it wouldn’t have worked as well without. 

Not only does it allow for effective scene transitions to work in more characters over a single stream, but it also leaves some things unsaid, somethings unseen, leaving it up to the viewers to try and fill in what happened.

Now, all of those things aren’t new to Dream SMP -- heck, we’ve got a whole villain arc or two based on those unseen moments -- but having them happen mid-stream, where we’re so used to seeing and hearing everything the character says? It gives off the feeling that we’re not entirely seeing through c!Quackity’s eyes like we usually do, like there are things he’s hiding from the viewers. 

And you know how many of the “villainous” characters -- Dream, Schlatt, Punz, Enderwalk Ranboo, etc. -- have that villainous status largely due to their lack of perspective?

Sure, Dream streamed at the start, Punz did two lore streams during his spy arc, but you get the point. You almost never see things from their point of view as the audience, especially when they’re doing the villainous things.

What Quackity’s done here is...almost like treading the line between that. Having a POV for some bits, lacking a POV for others. The same mystery that clouds the other villains’ stories now hovers over these sections of Quackity’s descent in the same way.

Leaving you wondering what it is you missed.

[aelowan]

Special Delivery – A Books of Binding Short Story

Cian woke in the dark to an urgent rapping on his bedroom door. Winter’s low voice carried through the wood. “Cian, we’re on.”

Cian sat up in bed, trying to parse that. On? On what? English wasn’t his first language and sometimes idioms — he hoped it was an idiom — tripped him up. He pulled his jeans on and made his groggy way across the spacious room to find Winter on the other side of his door, dressed in her usual loose dress and cardigan, her purple bag over her shoulder and her surgical bag heavy in her hand. She hadn’t taken the time to put her hip-length white hair up in a bun, and it rode one shoulder in a careless braid.

She was lovely.

He pushed his own long, sleep-tousled hair out of his face. “What are we on?”

A small, exhausted smile played about her lips, and he wanted to kiss her until the shadows under her ice-blue eyes faded away. “’On’ means it’s showtime,” she explained, not terribly effectively. What was a ‘showtime?’ “We have a delivery to attend. Corinne’s started bleeding heavily, and Doc says she can’t stop it.”

Cian’s brows shot to his hairline. The Lion Queen? Oh shit. “Is it the placenta previa? She’s five weeks early.” Which wasn’t too terribly early for a human or a vampire, but with a therian’s five-and-a-half-month gestation it could make things complicated.

Winter nodded. “Which means that either she got pregnant during an earlier heat than we thought, or the placenta’s started pulling away from her uterus, which I think is the more likely. Either way, I suspect we need to deliver the baby tonight. If she’s having contractions it will tear the placenta apart, leading to hemorrhaging. Now, you get dressed, and I’ll wake up Etienne so he can drive you out to Xanadu on the motorcycle. I need you at the top of your game, and making you ride with me in the Bug with its old steel chassis won’t help with that.” She sighed. “I really do need a new car.”

Cian shuddered at the thought of riding in the Bug. He’d ridden in more than one older model vehicle and gotten sick in the process. He was sidhe, though, and not a lesser fae, so sick was the extent of it. A lesser fae might come away with more serious injury or even death. The little pixies in the gardens here on the Point avoided Winter’s vintage car at all costs. “Yeah, a new one would be good. Maybe we can go shopping for one this weekend?”

Winter gave him a tired smile, but tired as she was it still reached her eyes. Cian couldn’t have said that only a few weeks ago. “Yes, maybe.” She checked the time on her phone. “We need to head out as soon as possible. Doc is perfectly capable of performing a c-section if she needs to, but I’d rather be there in case things get complicated. I’ll meet you in the foyer in five minutes.”

Cian shut the door as Winter moved toward Etienne’s room and turned to get ready. It was just the three of them rattling around in this huge house, where once there had been dozens of wizards, all part of the extensive Mulcahy family. He could tell that Winter liked having the company, and he liked it, too. So did Etienne.

Long hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, worn boots and a new sweatshirt against the mid-November chill, his silk-lined riding chaps to protect him from the Harley’s frame, and he was ready to ride as soon as he got his helmet and riding jacket together. Worry for Corinne dueled with excitement. This would be his first time attending a birth. He’d assisted Winter with several surgeries already, but Corinne was the community member closest to delivering and currently the highest-risk pregnancy. She was also one of Winter’s closest friends, and Winter said she felt better knowing he would be backing her up with his healing gift. Cian was happy to help.

Etienne was still putting his auburn hair up into a ponytail in the high style he preferred as he hit the stairs and nodded to Cian. “Get your things. It’s going to be a cold ride, even for you.” His red plaid overshirt was slung about his neck and the new black gun rig for his old Glock jostled lightly against his chest with each stairstep he took.

Cian stood at the bottom of the double staircase beside Winter and watched the faerie knight descend, his bootheels thudding softly on each wide tread. He waved a hand indicating the Glock under Etienne’s left arm. “Expecting trouble?”

Etienne smirked and pulled on the overshirt as he touched down from the last step. “Always. This is Seahaven, after all.”

Winter shook her head and offered a rueful smile but didn’t disagree. “I’ve got the car loaded and ready to go. Be careful out there. The roads might be a bit slick after that rain.”

Etienne’s smile stretched into a rake-hell grin and Cian felt his belly flop. By Dagda, Etienne had a sexy smile. “A little rain isn’t going to stop us. Now, let’s go help Corinne.”

Cian handed Etienne his helmet and his old worn leather coat before getting into his own, new, silk lined coat. Winter’d had it made for him when she’d noticed he was showing about an inch of wrist below the cuff of his old one.

Winter hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder, determination showing in her eyes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The rain had subsided to a sprinkle, which did nothing for making the ride out to Xanadu any safer. Etienne sat a little higher in his seat, vigilant, and managed to avoid most of the puddles.

Most.

Cian tried to ignore his cold, wet boots as the three of them pulled into the covered Xanadu employee parking lot, Winter leading the way in her yellow Bug. They were met at the back entrance to the primary hotel that crowned the largest island in the resort complex. Corinne owned all of the islands in Eriksson Bay, and employed both the dolphins and the selkies as well as her entire large pride of lions. Scores of humans worked in the park, too, but they were offered only limited access. No need for some curious teenager to die just because they got a peek behind the Veil of Secrecy.

Santiago, Corinne’s husband, mate, and Chief of Security, waved as they approached the private elevator. Worry etched deep lines into his brow, cutting into his light brown skin. Cian noticed that he’d shaved his head, but it was already showing fine stubble with the force of his therian regeneration. “Winter, thank god you’re here.” His English was flavored with rich Cuban Spanish, as were most of the lions he had brought with him from Miami to merge with Corinne’s lioness-heavy pride.

Winter offered up a confident smile and gave the Lion King a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. I can get little Bella out in under a minute if I need to.”

Cian knew that Winter’d had to perform emergency c-sections in the past and knew what she was doing. Therian couldn’t get sick or infected, but they could develop conditions that put a pregnancy at risk, like Corinne’s placenta previa. Most therian lived on the edge of society, victims of poverty, abuse, and malnutrition. Pregnancy loss and high infant mortality were common.

But that wasn’t a concern with Corinne tonight. The Lion Queen led one of the biggest groups in Seahaven and was one of the most powerful and wealthiest therian on the West Coast.

Santiago ushered the three of them into the elevator and swiped his resort ID through the reader, granting them access to the private floors and the penthouse where the pride lived. “Doc says Corinne and the baby are both holding steady, even with the blood loss. She’s got both of them on monitors.”

Winter looked to Cian. “With heavy bleeding, what is keeping Corinne and Bella stable?”

Cian thought about that for a moment. “It’s Corinne. She’s strong enough that her healing ability is regenerating blood before she can lose too much, so Bella isn’t being stressed.” He paused. “Yet. There’s a limit to how long her body can heal itself and maintain the baby at the same time. She’s burning through an incredible amount of calories, and once she’s depleted, she’ll be vulnerable.”

Winter smiled her approval. “Excellent. You’re picking this up quickly.”

Etienne looked pleased but said nothing.

Santiago listened intently, tension singing across the backs of his hands, stress making his dark-eyed gaze intense. “But you can save her — save them — can’t you, Winter?”

Winter exuded confidence even as Cian could feel her exhaustion through the veil of his healing gift. “I’m here to fight. We’ll get Corinne through this.”

They exited the elevator one floor below the penthouse where Corinne and Santiago lived and travelled at a brisk pace past closed doors and the soft sounds of sleeping lions until Santiago pushed open a set of frosted glass doors at the end of the hall.

Doctor Gloria Park’s domain.

Glass, chrome, and bright lights, the small clinic and surgery suite gleamed like a shrine to modern medicine. Winter’s backroom clinic was smaller and homier — and a lot busier — but Cian could tell by the way she glanced around that Winter admired it and all of the shiny toys Doc had to play with.

Cian had to admit that he did, too.

“Doc, they’re here.” Santiago raised his voice just enough to be heard on the other side of the two frosted glass doors that bracketed the main room of the clinic.

Doc emerged from the door on the right, butting it open with a hip, her gloved hands marked by blood and ruddy betadine. A bloody streak smeared wet across her white coat at the waist, but she ignored it. She flashed a quick smile of greeting at the new arrivals, her slightly hooded eyes crinkling at the corners and tugging at her small epicanthal folds, her short, no-nonsense, black hair tucked beneath a surgery bonnet. “Excellent timing. I’m prepping Corinne now. How do you want to do this?”

Winter took her surgery bag from Etienne and began moving toward the surgery suite. “I think we should first administer my painkiller potion, and then once it kicks in, we can take a closer look.” She gestured to the blood on Doc’s coat and hands. “Is that all hers?” In any place other than Seahaven that might have been an odd question, but Cian was quickly learning that chaos seemed to reign above all, here.

Doc made a short shrugging gesture. “This time, yes. Contractions started about an hour ago.”

Winter nodded, all business. “Then we’ve got no time to waste. Santiago, do you want to come in and keep Corinne company?”

Santiago smiled, visibly relieved. “Si. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Etienne crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a table. “I’ll wait out here. Haven’t attended a birth in a while, but I bet it’s going to be crowded enough in there as it is.”

Winter flashed the faerie knight a warm smile of gratitude and pushed through the door, Cian close behind her, Doc and Santiago bringing up the rear.

The surgery suite was small, but airy and brightly lit. Corinne sat reclined in the center of the room, gravid belly painted a lurid yellow-red with betadine, long red hair tucked into a surgery bonnet to keep it out of the way, full lips looking pale. Even still, she was glamorous. She opened her eyes as they entered the room, and she smiled a tired smile. “Hey there.”

Winter returned the smile with one of her own as she pulled out a surgery bonnet for herself and passed another to Cian. “Ready to have a baby tonight?”

Corinne chuckled softly and reached out for Santiago’s hand as he reached her side. “You have no idea. But someday you will.”

Winter’s smile turned a bit wistful. “Maybe.” Cian wanted to hold her, just for a moment. He knew she expected to die young, like the rest of the Mulcahy line. She was the last.

Cian found a chair and brought it to Santiago so he could sit at Corinne’s head.

Santiago took the seat and stroked Corinne’s forehead. “Mi corazón.”

Winter tucked her long braid into the surgery bonnet and Cian followed suit. “This is going to go very fast. Your contractions tore the placenta and that’s what’s causing the bleeding. It’s still a total occlusion, still entirely blocking the cervix, as we saw on the ultrasound during your checkup last week.”

Corinne gave a single nod, exhaustion and worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Did I do something wrong? She’s so early.”

Winter shook her head no and dug into her surgical bag. “Sometimes babies just come early. Nobody’s at fault.” She looked at the monitors showing both Corinne and the baby’s vitals and Cian followed her gaze. Both were holding steady so far. “But Bella’s at a good weight. She should be fine. And your strength is keeping her that way. But I still want to get her out with all speed. We need your bleeding to stop.” As she spoke, she pulled a tumbler from the bag, filled it with cool water, and added three drops of light blue potion, drops that never quite mixed in, instead swirling about like whisps of metallic smoke. “Here, drink all of this down as fast as you can.”

Corinne took the tumbler and knocked it back, then locked her jaw as her entire body shuddered. “Good lord, what was that?”

Winter retrieved the tumbler before it ended up on the floor. “Painkiller potion. It will last for a few hours. It also gives us the ability to go in after little Bella without you feeling any pain and without giving you enough human anesthetic to knock out the Fifth Fleet.” Cian knew from Winter’s explanations that therian could burn through human drugs at an alarming rate. Only magical solutions could withstand their incredible metabolisms.

Corinne shuddered one more time, and then leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes. “Oh. Oh, that’s much better. Thank you.”

Winter gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Good. Now let’s meet your daughter and get that bleeding stopped.” She shrugged out of her sweater and pulled a couple of scrub tops out of the surgery bag, handing one over to Cian. “This is going to be pretty straight forward,” she began to explain, mostly to Cian. Doc already knew what she was doing. “Cian, I want you as tech on this so you can get as much experience as possible. You’ll suction the amniotic fluid out of our way, and I’d like you to use your touch healing to tack Corinne back together once we deliver the placenta, so she heals correctly. Corinne is strong enough that she’ll probably heal faster than I can suture her. Doc, if you can keep the incisions open long enough for me to go in and get the baby and the placenta, we can get her delivered in the next few minutes.”

Doc gave a thoughtful look at her queen’s belly and then to the monitors. “I think that’s reasonable. The bassinet’s already warming, so you can just plop the baby in there while you deliver the placenta and we get the bleeding stopped, and then as soon as the umbilical cord stops pulsing, we can cut it.” She cast a grin at Santiago, who was massaging Corinne’s temples. “Feel like cutting the cord?”

A smile spread across Santiago’s handsome face. “Si. I thought that was just a TV thing.”

Doc let out a soft chuckle. “No, it can be a dad thing, too. Bella’s welcome to the world.”

Winter handed Cian a clean absorbent pad, and he replaced the blood-soaked one beneath Corinne, tossing it into the operating room trash with the rest of them. He could only thank Dagda that she was a therian, and a queen. A human would be in dire straits by now.

Doc lifted an electrocautery scalpel from its tray, the steel glinting under the bright lights, a long wire stretching to the base of the machine beside her. “Ready when you are.”

Winter explored Corinne’s belly, feeling out the position of the baby within. “She’s breech, which is normal with placenta previa. First incision down here, across the lower abdomen, and then we very carefully cut into the uterus.”

Doc snorted. “Don’t teach me to suck eggs, kid.”

An amused smile tugged at Winter’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Cian, get ready with the suction, please.”

Cian flipped the machine on and held the wand at the ready, tucking himself against Corinne’s side opposite of Santiago so he could both reach and stay out of the way. He’d done this in surgery with Winter before. There had just never been a baby involved. It didn’t make him nervous, though. Winter had faith in him.

Winter shifted just a little to the side to give Doc more room. “All right, let’s do this.”

Doc spread her fingers across Corinne’s lower abdomen, her hands rock-steady, and made the first deft incision, a tiny whiff of smoke rising as she made the long cut, stopping bleeding before it could start, exposing the flesh of Corinne’s uterus. “Get the retractors ready,” Doc murmured to no one in particular.

Winter reached around her and picked up the two steel retractors, looking for all the world like salad tongs to Cian’s mind. He’d used them before, but the first impression was always the lasting one.

Doc carefully centered her scalpel and indicated a small band of muscle just to the side of her hand. “Pay attention to this, Cian.” Her voice was low with concentration. “Corinne is a lioness, and her uterus works a little differently than a human’s. Instead of basically just being nestled in place by the other abdominal structures, it’s held in place at two points, acting as shock absorbers. She’s built to hunt and fight while pregnant.” Doc shifted the position of her scalpel. “We don’t want to cut those, so we’re making a bit of a smaller incision instead.”

Cian nodded, absorbing the lesson. “Will the baby still fit through?”

Doc nodded. “It’ll just be a tighter squeeze, but she’ll be fine.” Doc deftly nicked the edges of the first incision, pushing against Corinne’s healing ability. “Cutting now.” She pierced the uterine wall without hesitation, drawing another long, bloodless, horizontal line across Corinne’s abdomen.

Immediately a tiny foot appeared, pressed against the intact, translucent amniotic sac. Winter smiled as she applied the retractors. “Very nice.”

Doc grinned. “It’s what we do. Ready to catch?”

Winter nodded. “Trade you.”

Doc and Winter traded tools in a dance born out of years of practice. Doc had been Winter’s primary teacher as she learned trauma surgery, after the death of her Aunt Curiosity.

Winter cut into the amniotic sac with a delicate touch, careful of the moving baby beneath. Cian shifted behind her, suctioning fluid as best he could, until Winter slipped her hands inside and began to ease the baby out.

Corinne’s eyes widened. “Oh, that feels weird. How does she look?”

Winter slipped a hand further into Corinne’s uterus, sloshing fluid over her wrists and onto the pad. “Well, all I see right now is her little butt, but her head is coming free… right… now.”

Corinne raised her head, eager for a peek. “Can I see her?”

Winter mopped the tiny baby’s face off with a pad that Cian handed her, suctioned her little nose and mouth, and held her where Corinne and Santiago could see just in time for Bella to raise her first vigorous objections to being pulled from her warm retreat. Winter beamed. “Look what you two did.”

Santiago’s eyes reddened with joy and he kissed Corinne’s cheek. “She has your hair, mi corazón.”

Corinne grinned, unable to take her eyes off the baby. “She’s beautiful. Just beautiful.”

“And messy.” Winter handed Bella off to Cian, who wrapped her in an absorbent pad and carried her to the cozy bassinet. She was so tiny, and so fierce. “Let me finish this with Doc and Cian’s help and then she’s all yours.”

***

If you like this story, check out our other free short fiction and all things Seahaven at https://www.aelowan.com.

[vaguely-concerned]

Twisted Fate/Graves thoughts 2 Electric Boogaloo because none of you can stop me

and I just have a lot of feelings okay

- t.f. taking an entire paragraph mid-fall during a harrowing life or death chase to give you the context for how much the imminent destruction of his boots is a  tragedy is the funniest and most endearing character detail and also irrefutable proof that despite appearances he, too, really does only have that half a brain cell, it simply pingpongs around in there much more than graves’ half (which instead finds one idea and GOES HARD for it no matter what lol bless him)   

also his pov is basically just a flippant ‘well this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation’ until graves literally forces him to have an honest emotion at gunpoint, and y’know... that be what love feels like sometimes when you’re like that as a person, extremely relatable, I feel for him so much

- I’m still just quietly astounded by the hmmm... implied intimacy? I guess? in the argument they’re having once they’re actually talking in burning tides. let’s look at what they’re actually saying to each other:     

T.F.: “Are you ever gonna learn? . . . Every time I try to help you, I-” and “ I tried to get us out. The rest of us saw the job was going south . . . But you wouldn’t back down. You never do.”

vs.

Graves: “You’ll run again. That’s all you’ve ever done.” and “You made out alright, though . . . You know why? It’s because you’re a coward. And nothing you’ll ever say can change that.” 

like them’s the sort of fraught fighting words you have with a spouse right towards the end of an ugly divorce, the full fruitless ‘why do you always have to --’ and ‘but you never listen to me!!!’ deal, especially from graves’ side lol. it’s the sort of hurtful you can really only be with someone you’ve been very, very close to, someone you know incredibly well. considering the whole backstory what graves is essentially saying here is ‘It’s your own fault people have left you; you deserve to be alone’.

(interestingly, in twisted fate’s pov it seems that what’s really messing with him is the part of not being listened to. he tried to plead with his family and they refused to listen, he tried to convince graves to run away with the rest of them and he didn’t listen, and here they are again and graves isn’t listening  a g a i n  and at that point t.f. clearly just sort of. gives up on actually being heard, in a slightly heartbreaking way. and from how graves reacts to seeing that I really think he’s not naturally cruel like that at all, he’s just in too much pain to think until this startles him out of it and then he does actually listen)

- through both stories graves is so desperately, enduringly horny for t.f. to be emotionally present and engaged with him without slipping away into his ~*cool magic gambler*~ persona and I find it weirdly sweet 

- graves immediately getting fond of this leaky battered old rowboat... hfsadkjfhasd he’s sort of adorable in a way? it’s also really cute how he’s got this really tight focus on tf and his mannerisms and how genuine he’s being at any given moment. it’s such a neat way to show what he’s feeling and thinking about, which must be hard with a character who’s so massively oblivious to the finer points of his own inner life lol  

ALSO can we talk about how tf literally winks at him at one point, right after they’ve sort of had a little moment of regained trust... like my good sir that is so deeply unnecessarily saucy of you, please control yourself (though in his defense graves somehow still isn’t picking up what he’s putting down so y’know maybe subtle isn’t the way to go here anyway haha)

- I wonder if t.f. used to go by his initials even before he changed his name -- graves calls him by it straight off the bat in burning tides and t.f. seems to consider his real name mildly embarrassing lol. (also intriguing that he does appear to think of it as his ‘real name’, and not ‘old name’ or something like that. it’s why I feel like we’ve got more of a dual identity going on here than a deadname situation, it feels more like two distinct levels of emotional vulnerability/availability to me. and so ‘tobias’ stops being relevant when there’s no one left to know him as that. ow.)    

- from reading his bio it seems like twisted fate has had to figure out a lot of the magic stuff on his own (except for the mention of his grandpa teaching him the fortune telling part of it -- seems like they had a bit of a special connection, really, if him leaving his old cards with the kid before they left is anything to go by). what I’m saying is that I would read thousands upon thousands of words of him experimenting with it when they were younger and graves hurriedly having to topple a table over and pull them both behind it for cover before they both explode lol 

(and then t.f. popping his head up afterwards like ‘hAH see I TOLD you I could do it!’ and graves disconsolately lighting a cigar from the burning rubble b/c the things one does for love partnerships huh)

- I’ve been looking over burning tides with a writing eye a few times to figure out what makes it work so well for me, and one of the things I really like is that there are a lot of small comments/details that are there or are framed in a certain way specifically to emphasize the familiarity and history between the characters. Just small details like He moves fast for a big man. I’d forgotten that and graves mentioning he’s never liked standing too close when t.f. does the teleporting thing -- not to mention t.f.’s name reveal, which if I understand this correctly was actually new information to the readers when burning tides was going on. (and yes it is still very funny to me that his actual name is tobias. the duality of man)   

(I also feel like there are HUGE differences in writing quality between the different POV sections -- I guess different people wrote for the different characters? Well, both of the first person sections are gold and that’s what matters to me in this story so I don’t really mind. Sadly the Miss Fortune parts read the weirdest and stiffest to me, which is unfortunate b/c I love her lore concept a lot and she’s so cool in double double-cross. WHO the fuck let an unironic ‘the crimson-haired siren’ slip through the edit, is what I really want to know. please, narrator, tell me about her cerulean orbs while you’re at it) 

- The man I used to know seems lost under years of hatred.

I don’t try to say anything else. I can see it in his eyes, now. Something’s broken inside of him.

still makes me SO SAD and I’m incredibly happy it turns out not to be true in the end thank GOD

- this might just be me reading into stuff too much, but I really like this sense that in moments of high emotion/genuine vulnerability, graves tends to sound older and more tired while t.f. sounds younger than he actually is, more frightened and hurt

- if his mind hadn’t been completely focused on partner-rescuing and open murder were in any way his style, t.f. totally could have killed gangplank right there and then before miss fortune even got to blow the fucker up haha. then again if that were the sort of guy he were he’d be dead along with all the rest of them

- it’s so good that graves tries to save miss fortune’s guy before they leave the cave but also isn’t broken up about it when it turns out he can’t, that feels like such a correct encapsulation of his moral character haha

- I really do enjoy graves’ POV so much not just because there’s something immensely comforting about how he refuses to be scared even in the face of death because he’s too damn grouchy and won’t give the world the satisfaction, but also because the language/cadence is so satisfying. he does have a way with words, in a gruff non-flashy sort of way.

It smells like the end of everything – sulfur and ash and death; cooked hair and melting skin -- the rhythm of that is so gooood and that whole section conveys the horror and destruction but also the awe of the scene so well. (I’m telling you graves isn’t actually dumb at all, just astoundingly unbendingly single minded once he’s got an idea in his head lol) 

- I keep thinking about the fact that the last two things twisted fate thinks about before he passes out from drowning is if graves is scared and ‘What would Malcolm do?’ and I’m feeling real 😭😭😭 about it

- I’m still so disproportionately intrigued by graves mentioning his mom in burning tides. considering how early and seemingly easily he left home (...not to mention that he brings her up in connection with someone punching him in the face) it might be a safe bet that they weren’t that close but like. she also seems to be one of the very very few non-revengy things he’s checked up on after getting out of prison. did he send money home sometimes? would he visit whenever they came back to bilgewater? did she ever meet t.f. and if so did she approve or was this a bit of a uncharmable mother in law from hell situation? I um. I want to know these things pls riot it’s for science

.

(First post is over here btw, if anyone’s interested!)

[themandadolorian]

Paz Vizla NSFW Alphabet

Originally posted by coredrive

A/N: okay tumblr was being dumb so I had to re-upload. So yeah, here is my - what is sure to be hot pile of garbage that I wrote at midnight last night lol. Listerally this is by far the most sinful thing I’ve ever written/posted so please don’t come for me. It took everything in me to post this in the first place 🙈

Warnings below the cut

Warnings: Pretty self explanatory? Y’all know how these things work. Smut, Paz has a breeding kink (obvi), and yeah. It’s just a bunch of sin y’all. I’m a hoe for Paz okay?

///

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Okay, as we all know Paz may appear intimidating and brutish, but he is a total fucking teddy bear and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. No matter how slow, sensual, rough, or fast he takes you, he will ALWAYS make sure you are taken care of afterwards. Whether it’s just a warm cloth or a full on shower he will make sure you are both clean before slipping under the covers and pulling  you into his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Okay I feel like Paz is like an ass and thighs kinda guy. I know, I know - super stereotypical guy stuff but like?? He has really big hands okay? And he loves to just grab handfuls of you and squeeze you. He loves wrapping his hands around your thighs and picking you up and pressing you to the wall when neither of you are patient enough to make it to the bed. But he also loves just taking handfuls of your ass in his palms as he fucks down into you.

OOF.

Yeah Paz is definitely an ass and thighs kind of guy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay - BITCH. We ALL KNOW that this big blue bastard has a fucking breeding kink, something that I will discuss further down the alphabet lol. So like his favorite place to cum is definitely inside you. ESPECIALLY if you aren’t on contraceptive (and have had the appropriate baby talk lol).

But despite that being his fave place, I definitely think he has a thing for seeing it on you too. I believe Paz is a very uh…territorial man - and if he’s in the right kinda mood I don’t think he would hesitate to

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Oof okay so thanks to @stubbychaos and @hdlynn for helping me with this one bc I was struggling lol. But this man DEF has a thing for wanting to be the submissive one sometimes. He’s never done it before but he’s always wanted to try it. But he will never for the life of him bring it up to you on his own. He has a reputation to uphold you know? But if you mention it first one day? Lord help him, he won’t hesitate before complying. You being in charge in the bedroom instead of him? Cuffing his hands together and magnetizing them to the hull so he has to beg to touch you?

Phew…yeah he’s into that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Paz is pretty experienced. I think he definitely knows what he’s doing in the bedroom when it comes to the act itself. HOWEVER - I don’t think this man has been in a lot of long term relationships? I feel like that is new to him,so while he knows what he’s doing and how to pleasure you, he is still learning the romantic dynamics lol.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

I definitely take Paz as a no-nonsense kind of guy, when he’s with you in that way (no matter how y’all are doing it lol) he wants to make sure you are getting the pleasure you deserve. And when he’s making love to you? Forget it man. This dude is so fucking serious and soft and just UGH. I don’t think he takes it lightly I guess is what I’m trying to say. Especially if you haven’t sworn the riddurok yet - being that vulnerable with you and placing that much trust in you takes a lot and I don’t think either of you really jokes around in the actual moment.

But Paz is definitely a funny guy. He won’t hesitate to tease you or cast a dirty comment your way when he has the chance. While he takes your relationship seriously he also has a sense of humor - especially leading up to the moment itself.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think Paz really thinks about stuff like that tbh. His life is hectic - he has a job to do and people to protect so I don’t think he concerns himself with stuff like that. Really the only grooming he tries to keep up with is his facial hair, he makes sure to keep it neat under the helmet because if he didn’t it just causes him irritation. But he makes sure not to go completely clean shaven simply because he relishes in the noises you make when his scruff scrapes along the tender skin of your neck when he leaves kisses there - or even better - when it brushes along the inside of your thighs. Yeah, those noises are his favorite.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Paz is a total romantic and you can’t change my mind.

Like i said before, he’s never really done the long term relationship thing so he wants to do it right ya know? He’s always checking to make sure you’re okay and enjoying what he’s doing. Whispering sweet words of praise and pleasure into your ears as he thrusts into you. He just loves to be with you in every way possible, touching you, holding you - anything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

He travels alot, and sometimes he’s away from you for longer than usual. This results in some more….depraved evenings alone in the refresher. It’s even worse when you send him a particularly lewd hologram of yourself. Then he definitely can’t help himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Okay - here we go friends. I am finally going to address two anonymous asks I have gotten in this section, SO:

●      Breeding kink: This man has one, plain and simple. He honestly discovered it by accident once when he saw you holding one of the foundlings in the covert, rocking it to sleep. From that moment he was a goner. The minute you walked into your shared quarters, he had stripped you both down and was on you the moment you were bare before him. Just the thought of you, belly swollen with his child? A future Mandalorian to carry on his name? Yeah. the minute that image crosses his mind he’s gone - spending himself inside you before pulling you to his chest and rolling onto his side, never leaving you the entire time.

●      Biting/Marking: Again, another ask I received that I have been gaining the courage to post lol. As stated earlier, Paz is somewhat territorial and kind of protective. He in no way sees you as some kind of property, but when you are together, he wants everyone to know. The morning After a night of passion when he returns from a mission, he sees the bruises on your hips and the dark purple marks on your breasts and neck and he almost takes you again right then and there. From that moment, he makes it a personal mission of his to leave behind at least a couple pieces of evidence. Not that you are complaining of course.

●      Okay this one is kinda mean I think but - idk why - but I think this man has a thing for making you cry 🙈 Obviously this isn’t in a bad or painful kind of way. More, he wants to see you cry out in pure euphoria. You’ve gone several rounds, and he’s pulled more than a few orgasms out of you and that’s when he sees the wet trails down your cheeks.The first time he was worried - afraid that he had hurt you ror pushed you too far, but you explained that it was just that good - OOOO this man just keeps on going.

●      Finally, working off that last one, Paz 100% has a praise kink. He just absolutely loves hearing your gasps of pleasure and encouragement to ‘keep going’ or ‘just like that Paz, maker-!’. It just spurs him on because he knows he’s doing at least one thing right.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Paz definitely prefers either your quarters on the ship or in the covert. He doesn’t really like wearing the helmet when you are together like that and the only place he feels safe enough to remove the helmet is in those two places. Plus, it’s just more comfortable.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

YOU WEARING HIS SHIRTS. That man turns feral if he sees you in one of his shirts. The way it’s so large on you yet only comes to about mid-thigh? Yeah, that is an instant turn on for him 100%.

Also as weird as this might sound he absolutely loves it when you tease him. Mainly because he knows when you do that, that neither of you are aiming for a soft experience lol. Usually when you tease him by wearing those tiny shorts you own or by flirting with someone else just to get his attention, you all won’t even make it back to the safety of your quarters.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Paz will not do ANYTHING that involves hurting you. Period. One of his biggest fears is accidentally hurting or losing the ones he loves, so there is no way he will intentionally cause you pain or harm. I think the only exception to that would be like spanking? But he only does that if you beg him too. But absolutely no knife play, etc…

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man will Happily go down on you. And he’s definitely skilled at it. Honestly I think going down on you is probably one of his favorite things and he does it every chance he gets. Because not only does it bring you pleasure, but he loves the way you taste and the way your fingers pull at his hair as you beg him for release….yeah it’s just all around a good time for every one lol.

He also likes receiving but I think he definitely prefers to give rather than receive.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again I think he’s both. However, I think he leans towards fast and rough, mainly because sometimes all you both have time for is a quick bout before he’s off to his next responsibility or job. But don’t put it past the man to make that up to you. He is always slow and sensual when he gets the chance. Taking his time to touch you and explore every inch of you in an effort to memorize the expanse of your skin and the things that make you tick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As stated above, I think quickies can be a regular occurrence between you two, but I also don’t see them happening like all the time, if that makes sense?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I think Paz is game to try out some new stuff. Again as long as it’s nothing that could harm either one of you, I don’t think he would mind straying from his comfort zone.. Especially if you’re the one asking.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Listen…this man FUCKS. Like a lot and for a really long ass time. Like each round may not last like super duper long (unless he’s feeling like a tease then he will drag each one out as long as possible) but this man can go so many rounds. He fucking loves it too.

Sometimes you won’t even have time to catch your breath before Paz is ready to go again and there are tears in your eyes as he just continues to rail into you despite you both having reached your highs several times. This man’s stamina is like no other y’all.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don’t think Paz is really into toys himself. I mean if it’s something that you want to do/try he won’t say no but I don’t see him being the one to seek them out or own them. And if he did use one it would definitely be on his partner rather than himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Honestly? Paz can be such a fucking tease. I don’t think it’s something he does like all the time or anything but if he’s in a particular mood or you’ve been a brat all day, he will not hesitate to be unfair as hell. Like just going until you are right on the edge of release and then stopping completely, making you cry out in frustration before picking up again and doing the same thing over and over again. He pretty much won’t stop until your sobbing beneath him begging him to let you cum. Them and only then will he relent and finally, finally, get you to that point of release, following not far behind you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

hmmm…I feel like he definitely has a thing for an SO that is smaller than him. More in the sense that they are just shorter. He likes to tease you or put things on taller shelves so you have to ask for his help. But he also loves it because it makes it easier to pick you up and toss you onto the bed. Or, since he’s a lot larger than most people, he loves the way his hands look on your body. The way they just like engulf you and make you shiver - yeah idk. But he’s into that lol.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Do I really even have to say it? Because I feel like we all know lol. But Paz is not lacking in that department at ALL. This man is very blessed, well-endowed, whatever the hell you want to call it okay? Honestly the first time you see it you’re a little bit concerned for your own well being lol.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty fucking high lol. Paz is a horny bitch and that’s a hill I will die on.

He just loves being with you and near you in any way possible, but he especially loves being with you in this way. As stated several times before, having never been in many relationships, he relishes in the trust and vulnerability that he is allowed to have with you. But beyond all of that kind of stuff he just loves pleasuring you. Loves hearing the whines and gasps you let out as he fucks you. He loves the way your hands grip his shoulders or the way your nails rake down his back, reminding him the next day how much you enjoyed it. Yeah, Paz fucks okay? And he enjoys it a lot lol.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think he’s one of those people to just konk out afterwards lol. But he also doesn’t stay awake for too long. He will make sure you are both cleaned up before slipping back into bed next to you, pulling you to his chest and running his hand gently up and down your back. Tracing every little dip and curve of your body, until your breathing evens out and your warm breath fans over his chest. This is usually when he will fall asleep. He will drift off to your steady breaths and the feeling of your skin against his own.

[countesspetofi]

I thought I'd like to share with you this little story that my family used to read aloud every Christmas. It's got all the mid-century holiday anxieties: fear of overconsumerism, distrust/dislike of the younger generation, distrust of technology, war toys, "I am a human being: do not fold, spindle, or mutilate," fear of loss of individuality, and a general fondness for complaining. I've tried to preserve all the old-timey formatting choices.

But we always got a lot of laughs out of it, and certain lines have become stock phrases in our family jargon. Plus, it flashes me back to two of my former jobs, assembling furniture and technical writing. Consider it our gift to you this holiday season, and you don't even have to assemble it yourself.

MERRY CHRISTMAS IN TEN PIECES

by Robert Yoder

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and he has a home near the North Pole, where it is colder than a bathroom floor. But don't believe that story about his having a lot of little dwarfs who put toys together for him, singing as they hammer. Nobody puts toys together, until Christmas Eve. Toys come in sixteen pieces, with one missing, and are put together by a large band of Involuntary Elves who call ourselves Santa's Press-Gang Helpers. We don't exactly sing, either, although a certain low, ominous murmur can be heard rising from a million homes on Christmas Eve. Put it this way, kid: that ain't no dwarf; that's your old man, beaten down. The luckless peon bought the toys; now he is learning that he has to finish manufacturing them, too, and by one A.M. his mood will make Scrooge seem like Sunny Ebenezer.

The first thing your frightened eye lights on, in the store, is a nice little red wagon, and you think, in your fatuous adult way, that this is just the thing to brighten the young heart. If you weren't partially paralyzed by the fear that you were shopping too late, you would realize that if the kid wants a wagon at all, it isn't this chaste little model. He would want one twice the size, with demountable tires, a ram-jet engine, electric lights, an overdrive and a windshield wiper, at $79.75. The kid next door has had one like that for two years and uses it only to haul his good toys in. Then you see the rocket-firing antiaircraft gun and realize that this is the answer. While it will not do bodily harm, and is therefore a partial bust to start with, it is a realistic-looking little number, and you buy it, at an exceedingly realistic price.

About the hour on Christmas Eve when you are in mild shock for fear the thing won't arrive, the delivery man stumbles in with a large package that can't be anything else. Will you put it under the tree that way? Or will you have it out in the open, so the child may see this splendid sight first thing in the morning? Full of Christmas sentiment, you decide to expose the gun to full, gladsome view. So you tear off the wrapping. Here is a dial, here is a leg, here is a muzzle. You thought it would look like the model in the store, did you? Well, Santa has a little surprise for you. It's in pieces, and you are going to have to put it together. Merry Christmas, in at least ten pieces.

There is a sheet or folder of directions which could not get under your skin worse if they were in Spanish. They are written in the special language of directions, a mechanical gobbledegook achieved by writing the directions first in Ruthenian and then allowing the translation to curdle. A stop sign from the same mumbling pen would take 200 words. In the language of directions, "Close the door" would read like this: "Grasp door-opening device with right knob grasper and exert pressure outward until Panel A fills Aperture B. If scream is heard, other hand may be caught in opening." Along with being as turgid as possible, the directions are printed in a miniature type face known as Myopia Old Style, which is two sizes smaller than pearl and is otherwise used only to print the Declaration of Independence on souvenir pennies. Well, lying there in pieces, the gun looks like nothing at all; it's got to be assembled. The first line you encounter in the directions says: "Using ring grasper from Assembly Kit, grasp collector ring near tube spar tightening guide rod"... but, thank heaven, that goes with some other toy. Your own directions start out more simply: "Connect round opening at end of Feeder Spring A with hooked end of trigger lock restraining bar by placing round opening over hook and pressing." What'd he think you'd do - spot-weld it? (The answer, unfortunately, is that he expects more than that, but not just yet.) Now the guy begins getting esoteric.

"If retaining mechanism fails to admit trigger, horizontal opening of drum impeding stopper should be widened horizontally." He means if the damned trigger won't go into the guard, you got to cut more room, and sure enough, it won't. This is going to be the only gun in the neighborhood with a demountable (falling out) trigger, unless you fix it. If retaining mechanism fails to admit what it's supposed to retain, then it should never have left the factory, but it's too late for that kind of recrimination now. Getting a hammer from the basement, a good paring knife and a screwdriver, you manage to make the trigger go where it should, with one very bad moment when you think you've split the thing.

Well, the barrel, H, slides into place nicely; maybe things are beginning to go your way. The next step is to fit Firing Platform Z on Tripod, the Tripod being made by inserting Metal-tipped Ends of Legs into Sockets, which is child's play. Now all it takes is two bolts, L and M, which you slip into place with great efficiency. They must be firmly in place, the directions say, or gun will not swivel on Platform Z; you might say, it won't swivel on any platform. A neat little bag contained the bolts, and in it you find the nut for bolt L But half an hour later you are still rummaging through wrapping paper in a grim search for the other nut, the crucial nut, the nut without which, as the Latins say, nothing. You may have 128 nuts of assorted sizes in a jar in the basement, but you will not have one that fits Bolt M. That is a freak size used nowhere else in the whole panoply of American industry. It is part of a shipment the toy manufacturer bought up from the Uruguayan War Assets Administration.

it is 11:45 by the time you manage to make the bolt hold with a piece of wire wrapped around it, and if the kid looks at that part, he will feel sure this toy is something the firemen repainted for the poor. Meanwhile the house is grown cold, three of the Christmas-tree lights have winked at you by burning out, and your cigarette has fallen out of the ash tray and burned a six-dollar hole in the carpet. But the gun is starting to look like a weapon, and there can't be much more - only a couple of odd-looking metal pieces are left and a cardboard circle marked "Cosmic Ray Computer Dial."

One of the pieces of metal is easy enough to use. It's the missing plug, for lack of which the barrel has had that tendency to point to the floor like the tail of a whipped hound. The other is the crank with which the young gunner moves the barrel to keep on his target. You tackle the easiest job first - the computer is nothing more than two sections of light cardboard. "Bending tabs A, C, E and G," the directions say, "fit them into Slots B, D, F and H." The cardboard is a special kind which is a stiff as metal for a minute and then relaxes completely as you push, so that in twenty minutes you have four dog-eared tabs holding one crumpled dial marked with a little blood from the finger you cut trying to enlarge the slots.

Now you reach the part of the directions that tell you to fix on the telescopic sight. The diagram shows a handsome metal gadget coming to a square end, fitted into a ring fastened neatly around the end of the barrel. The only piece of metal you have left, outside of the crank, is a cotter pin. Even if you had missing part R, you would have nothing like missing part Q which fits into it. You ransack the wrapping paper again, in what the novelists call cold fury, but with no luck. Finally, with great self-control you smooth the wrinkled directions and read that jargon over again out loud. It is then that you come across Step 2. "In assembling Model A-200 Junior, our second-rate cheaper model for pikers, Step 2 may be disregarded," the directions say. "No sight comes with this model. There is, however, a cotter pin. You can stick it on the barrel with adhesive tape and play like it's a sight. It ain't much, but neither are you."

There is one final step - mounting the crank. "Slip Directional Crank 16 through Arm Y into Slot EE," the directions say. "When in position, give crank one quarter turn counterclockwise. Trigger should then fall sharply back into firing position." This is simplicity itself, and the only trouble is that if the crank goes through Arm Y, it misses Slot EE by a good quarter of an inch. The bitter thoughts that arise on Christmas Eve about the sleepwalker who bored that slot must visibly affect the temperature.

But the direction writer thought about this impasse, forehanded soul that he is. "It may be necessary, for best results - meaning, to make the thing work at all - to enlarge aperture in Arm Y. This can be done quickly and easily by using a 16.3 metal file without tang, a 13-oz. dinging hammer, and some Australian canoe-builders' flux." This is equipment the ordinary household would be just as likely to have as a Javanese blow gun and a guroo bird, and you know, as your thoughts profane the early Christmas air, that the only 16.3 file in the world is one resting in the manufacturers plant 850.3 miles away across the snowy landscape. So you gouge out a new Slot EE four times the proper size, the crank falls into place, wobbling foolishly, and the task is done. If it holds together until Christmas afternoon you will be agreeably surprised, and a glance at the clock tells you that won't be long.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. If there weren't, ugly mobs of maddened parents would rove the streets Christmas Day armed with bolts, pins, wheels and axles, and some toy manufacturer would end up assembled on Movable Rail A wearing Tar B and Feathers C, after a slight going-over with No. 16 emery paper and a common hydraulic half-knurled center punch.

[patheticphallacy]

This is going to be a really difficult introduction to my wrap up.

Unfortunately, on September 18th my dad passed away. He was only 50 years old. I won’t go into details because of how personal it is, but he was in hospital a majority of the month before he passed. I’ve taken a year suspension from University for the time being.

It has been a really difficult time for myself and my family. I’ve turned a lot to books and blogging to offer a way to occupy my mind which is why so many things still seem to be coming out, but I cannot say that this will hold up after the funeral.

As I schedule so many posts, a lot of what came out this month has been written since around mid August and I did not find the time to stop the University posts before they were released. I won’t be deleting them.

I hope you’ll all understand.

THINGS I’VE READ

    An Inspector Calls by J.B. Priestley– My sister gave me her copy she used for her GCSE’s. Such a great play with revelation after revelation, left me on the edge of my seat. While I knew the core plot twist, I didn’t predict that ending. 

Mob Psycho 100 Volume 1 by One– This was kind of meh. It’s one of my best friend’s favourites, so I’ll carry it on eventually, but I don’t really feel the urge to pick volume two up just yet. I will say I like how the anime tackles the same events in a different order to save major revelations for backstory– that was really interesting to pick up on. 

I Call Upon Thee by Ania Ahlborn– I really didn’t like this! Lacklustre and very cliched, feel like it doesn’t really offer anything other than annoying ending and characters who go through absolutely no development at all. 

Kissing Tolstoy by Penny Reid– An OK romance that actually has discussions surrounding reading and books that don’t feel forced. I found this easy to read even though I’ve never read any Russian Lit, and I actually want to read it more now. Like that it discusses age gaps and issues of the power dynamic too. 

    Seven Tears at High Tide by C.B. Lee– Finally finished this one, and it only took me 3 months. A very cute and heartwarming story about a boy who makes a wish and falls in love with a Selkie. Does get ridiculous at the end, I must say, but I was happy with the payoff. 

The Tea Dragon Society by Katie O’Neill– Katie O’Neill creates such amazing narratives that have wonderful messages about society and being true to yourself and your wishes, pursuing something that you love and encouraging others to do the same. 

Rosemary’s Baby by Ira Levin– How can I ever trust a single man or old person after this book? Tell me. 

Please Undo This Hurt by Seth Dickinson– Don’t really rate this short story. It bored me and I hated the main characters, not even in a good way. Just perpetuates the ‘I can save you from your mental illness’ narrative that is dull and overdone by this point. 

    My Hero Academia Volume 20 by Kohei Horikoshi– Gentle Criminal and La Brava was so boring, the School Festival arc was fabulous, and Endeavor finally got his ass kicked! Yay! 

Aphrodite Made Me Do It by Trista Mateer– I have a review of this coming out soon for National Poetry Day in the UK, but if you don’t want to wait, I have a review here!

The Quiet Boy by Nick Antosca– I read this after watching the trailer for Antlers, and I thought it was pretty neat! Very thrilling, although I’m bothered by changes being made in the film that I feel could detract from having Julia as one of the main characters in the film. 

I Am Not Your Final Girl by Claire C. Holland– A collection of poetry centring around fictional women from horror films, exploring their empowerment and agency in a genre and a wider culture and society that seems willing to beat them down until they break. 

Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink– I have a review of this linked later this post! Full of body horror and emotional trauma, this is a really solid read great for fans of the podcast and Welcome to Night Vale. 

    In the Shadow of Spindrift House by Mira Grant– I love this terrible cover! Keep an eye out for my review of this, it’s coming out soon. 

The World’s Greatest First Love Volume 1 by Shungiku Nakamura– The publishing elements and the main character were GREAT, but there is prevalent sexual assault in this that is never addressed and is incredibly insensitive in its treatment, so I don’t recommend this manga. 

Dead Voices by Katherine Arden– I didn’t enjoy this one as much as Small Spaces, but it’s still really freaky and a great middle grade read. I love that Coco gets her own POV in this, too, and that it doesn’t take stereotypical routes with some of its plotlines. 

No One Is Too Small To Make a Difference by Greta Thunberg– This is a collection of speeches Greta Thunberg has made addressing climate change, as well as her own position as an advocate for the cause. Moving and a must read, in my opinion. It’s only £3 in Waterstones at the moment for anyone who wants to pick it up!

    Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury– A fascinating collection of essays written by Bradbury about his writing process and some of the more popular works he’s published. I honestly felt really inspired and motivated after reading this, I highly recommend it especially for creative writers, but just be warned it is very oriented around the white male experience.

Heartstopper Volume 2 by Alice Oseman– I adore Heartstopper and I love this second volume. Great progression in the relationship between Nick and Charlie, and we’re getting to see more outside of their relationship and into their friendships and family dynamics, too. I still love Tori Spring!

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle– Finally got a hold of the MASSIVE audiobook where Stephen Fry narrates all the Holmes stories, and it honestly made the experience so much more enjoyable. I think Doyle’s skill lies more in shorter fiction than longer fiction, I think there’s less opportunity for… not useless, per se, just unneeded waffling. 

Giant Days Volume 9 and 10 by John Allison– These two volumes take place around the tailend of the girl’s second years and follows their accommodation location, the progression (and breakdown) of relationships, and them finally making it to third year intact. I honestly can’t believe there’s only three or four volumes left in this series, its been a constant companion for me since 2016 when I first started and I really don’t want to let it go. 

  No Touching At All and Even So, I Will Love You Tenderly by Kou Yoneda– Of the ‘older’ manga I’ve read that focus on the relationships between two men, these two are definitely in the ‘recommend’ pile. Other than the beautiful names for the volumes and the artwork being really pretty, I really enjoyed the developing relationships and the conversations had about workplace homophobia and ostracization in Japan, although that wasn’t the main focus. They do include some questionable attitudes towards identification of sexuality– two characters in both volumes are probably bisexual or on that spectrum, but are referred to as straight more than once for liking women and only the man they enter the relationship with. It’s complicated, but nothing in either volumes ever feels targeted or hateful, just lacking education on the nuances of sexuality. 

Articles

I found this article about Friends great as it breaks down issues I’ve had with the show for years. I don’t have a lot of attachment to it, honestly, I mostly just put it on in the background, but I think I’ll stop now. I’ve always found the handling of gender and sexuality damaging in Friends, as well as the overwhelming fatphobia.

I really enjoyed looking through this list The Guardian did of the 100 best books of the 21st century. I don’t know why, I’m just a big fan of lists!

Before reading this article, I can honestly tell you I knew nothing about Susan Sontag beyond her name. It’s deconstructing her queerness and how her aversion to accepting her own sexuality ultimately ruled a lot of the work she produced in her life.

God, this article was fascinating. I can’t even tell you what it’s about, really, other than that it’s an interview with Christeene, a punk drag artist who is just really cool, honestly. There are some buttholes for anyone who… wants to avoid butts? Or reading this at work?

There was a massive conversation in August that carried into September regarding the rise in men adopting pseudonyms to get their thriller novels published. This Atlantic article particularly captured the issues I have with men who do this, who are almost trying to fool an audience of women who trust women writers to not approach the suffering of women through a misogynistic lens, as is so common in modern society.

An older article by The New Inquiry, Coming out of the Coffin offers an insight into the fraught relationship between Bram Stoker and Oscar Wilde. A really interesting read, I’m just sad I discovered it 7 years after its release!

THINGS I WATCHED

I don’t do music sections on these wrap ups anymore, so I’ll put this here: the GRAACE cover of ‘Complicated’ by Avril Lavigne completely transforms the song and adds such an amazing depth to it

I decided to binge watch Fleabag and it’s most definitely the best decision I’ve made all year. Fleabag follows the titular woman as she navigates her life as a thirty year old woman whose entire life is in flux, and has been since the death of her mother. There’s a lot I could say about this show, honestly. What really stood out to me was how much I could relate specifically to the emotions Fleabag and her older sister Claire feel in relation to each other, and their grief. Seeing them still come back together even after such a significant loss, their dependency, really gives me strength to get through what I’m experiencing at the moment, so Fleabag has been something I can relate to and look at as hope for a future where I can begin to wrap my head around the terrible things going on around me.

THINGS I POSTED

August Wrap Up

TTT: Books Outside My Comfort Zone

50 Bookish Questions Tag

Music I Enjoyed This Summer

Connie’s Personal 101 Guide For Personal Survival of University

Bookshelf Tour Part 3: TBR & More Manga/Comics

Book Review: I Call Upon Thee by Ania Ahlborn

TTT: Books on my Fall TBR

Book Review: Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink

Bookshelf Tour Part 4: CDs&DVDs

If you liked this post, consider buying me a coffee? Ko-Fi. 

Goodreads|Twitter|Instagram|Letterboxd

September Wrap Up This is going to be a really difficult introduction to my wrap up. Unfortunately, on September 18th my dad passed away.

[roninishere]

Frantic || four ||

(Gif not mine)

WARNINGS: Language, mentions of sexual content, Billy being a dick, teen pregnancy, assholes, more daddy issues, inappropriate comments, shit ending, my horrible grammer and word count is... 3833

Frantic

||

     Using the excuse that Raven was tutoring Billy which explains them spending time together, actually worked. Plus considering the fact that he was struggling, she genuinely tutored him before school and when she had spare time after work. Doesn't mean things have gotten easier between them, neither of them know how to keep their big egos out of the way of learning to express their feelings and emotions in words.

    They easily got under each others skin, and made shots towards each other. In the end of the day, he was there waiting in the school and diner parking lot knowing he needed to keep his conscience clear. Inside, he didn't want anything happening to her.

    Spending Thanksgiving with the Wheelers, and Christmas just days away, Raven found herself going through the pregnancy changes immediately. Her small baby bump grew twice as big as she anticipated, she found herself tossing her old clothes in a box and at the maternal section in search for fitting clothes. So here she was, missing her Metallica shirt and leather black jacket which she's had to trade in for girly shit fashion that were called maternity clothes.

    Karen Wheeler was so generous to give the young woman her old maternity clothes. However; appreciating the gesture, the clothes were a bit old dated and small for Raven's statue. So here she is, using her Sunday morning to her advantage to shop for some damn clothes that fit her.

   It was all hideous; none of it was her style, but she had to so what she had too. At nearly four months, her belly blew up like a balloon, at just four months! Her belly made everything hard, typing her shoes, picking up things, sitting in the school desks, and serving at the diner. Even with a bundle of joy inside of her, her perfect body, was not feeling to perfect anymore.

    Her six pack was gone, obviously. Her breasts have gotten larger (let's not forget them swelling), her body aches nearly all the time, itching all the time, and for someone that never had stretching marks in her life, she understands now how other girls could be insecure. Her stretch marks stitched across her waist, thighs, and breasts. This all was different for her. Let's not mention when her emotions are going haywire.

   When everyone's eyes were on your belly, rather than you, and the chatter started, you bet it could demolish someone's confidence and feed more into that existing insecurely.

   "You fall asleep in there doll?" Billy's voice brought her back to reality, he sat out in the dressing room with her, outside of the door.

    Now, she didn't ask him to come, just to drop her off. He's actually the one that wanted to tag along, probably to make fun of how ridiculous she looked. With a moment to mentally hang her head, she opened the door with a blank expression as she fumbled with the little ribbon tied above her belly on the dark pink floral like dress she wore.

    She felt she was wearing a tent, the fabric stop at her mid calf. Doing some lame twirl in it, she leaned against the door frame as she tried to followed Billy's eyes. Couldn't. Asshole had his aviators on again.

  "Well, do you like it?" He asked curiously because she didn't seem to happy.

   Shrugging, she slid her hands into the neat pockets on the side "I feel like no matter what I try on, I look a tent."

   Chuckling at her statement, he well enough noticed her facial expressions and how she looked when it came to her new image. "Don't be dramatic Henderson, they all look good. As much as I love the bad girl look, the dresses aren't as bad as you think. Isn't pregnancy suppose to be the most exciting moment in your life?"

   "Yeah, I am excited Billy, really. I just feel different." Was the best way she could describe this experience to him.

   Billy guessed this was that part of pregnancy that his mother described to him, the part where the further in the pregnancy they are, the more insecure most women get about their bodies that are constantly changing. He could see it in Raven.

    "course you do. You got a kid in you. Don't worry you're still an asshole, just an asshole in a pretty pink dress." He grinned before she punched him in the arm for attempting to lift her spirits. He was trying. Doing that before.

    Taking one last look at herself in the mirror, she really no choice here, none of her old clothes were fitting. Just suck it up and get the damn thing, she told herself.

    Changing back into her old clothes, she gathered the ones she was going to purchase heading to check out when something caught her eye. It was a outfit set, a cut off like Metallica shirt with a cute black skirt that looks it'd fall to a little above her knees.

     Letting out a huff, she pat it before checking out at the register. What she didn't notice was that Billy had an idea, and would be back later when he wasn't with her. Raven bought multiple different outfits that varied from dresses, to over sized shirts and stretchy pants. The dresses were mostly for special occasions, rest was for the winter that was already here.

    "Thanks, for bring me, I know it's boring." She said when they got in the car and she sent the bags on the floor by her feet. Putting their seat belts on, she actually wanted to go back to bed, but because she's gotta work soon, she sighed.

    Billy glanced over at her licking his lips with a grin "Don't get soft of me Henderson, it doesn't fit you."

   "Ha ha, dick," She playfully punched his arm as they headed to get some breakfast "so what are your plans today Mr. Hargrove? Hot date?"

    The last question was unnecessary, but she couldn't help herself, she found herself as in late wondering what he's doing when he's not with her. It sounded dumb actually. When he laughs and smiles at her dumb jokes, she feels her heart beating so quickly and her blush at his attention. She was fucking falling for this asshole that got her pregnant.

   What the hell girl?

    "Well Ms. Henderson," He played back definitely noticing her curiosity as in late. "I'm going to a party tonight at Carol's, and then gunna come pick you up after. Don't worry, I'm not going to drink."

   Don't going to drink? That didn't sound like him, and it took Raven by surprise, "Why not? Drink, have a good night, I'll walk to Carol's and drive us home."

   "Why do you want me to get wasted?" He raised an eyebrow getting defensive as they stopped at a red light, for someone that was the mother of his unborn child, she was very selfless. She constantly told him to do his thing, and have fun.

   Hearing the tone of his voice change, she turned her head to the left so she could explain "I don't want you to get waste, but have some fun. You've been spending all your time with me, I just don't want to be the reason you're not enjoying yourself. Don't regret anything, it's senior year."

    She had a point, he's pretty much given up smoking around her and fighting for this chick "You are getting soft on me, don't worry Doll, I'll enjoy myself tonight."

||

    Promising that he would be there at two am, Raven wrapped her jacket tightly around her body when she stood outside of the dinner waiting for him. It was freezing outside, and this stupid waitress silly dress outfit wasn't help warm her up at all. He was already twenty minutes late, and the later she was waiting, the more harder it was to keep her eyes open and the colder it got. Officially waiting thirty minutes for him, she sighed before walking home after she pat her belly.

    Getting home nearly a four, she didn't even bother to shower, just changed and went straight to bed upset. Upset that Billy broke his promise, and that she feared that this was going to work out. She was silly to think that her and Billy Hargrove would be a big happy family with this baby on the way.

    Loud pounding at her door a couple hours later, Raven struggled out of the bed hearing that familiar voice on the other side "Please open up Doll." Please?" He was definitely drunk, and she could instantly smell the alcohol when she opened the door. That's not what grabbed her attention, it was the very visible blood and gashes on his face immediately indicting that he had a fight with his dad.

   "Billy? Your face, what happened?" Moving to the side, he entered with his arm draped around her shoulders for support as she assisted him to the chair.

   His breath reeked of alcohol as he accidentally breathed on her "H-he...didn't like h-how-w late I c-came home-e." he pouted rambling about not being enough for his dad.

   Searching for anymore cuts, she ran her fingers softly through his oddly soft hair to find some dry blood near his scalp. "Shh, it's okay, let me grab some supplies to Stitch you up."

   And she did, it was silent between them. She didn't know what to say, they never talked about his shit dad, but she knew about Neil Hargrove.

   "This'll sting," she warned before she applied the cotton ball of peroxide to his cuts getting a hiss from his lips "sorry."

    Watching her concreting face, he cleared his throat "So I saw you and Harrington talking the other day, you looked happy." Taking back by his words, she stopped for a moment before further cleaning his wounds.

   "We've been best friends since kindergarten Billy, it's nice to catch up on old memories." Why was she even explaining herself to him?

   A ping of jealously re-rose, "So what's Harrington got that I don't? Saying he's better than me?"

   "No, Billy, I'm not saying that. Where the hell is this coming from?" She snapped back at him, and she instantly regretted it by the look in his eyes.

   His temper took over as he grabbed her arms tightly "Look here little miss asshole, no one talks to me like that. You hear me?!"

   Very frightened by his drunken behavior, she was shunned about this, sure she had been yelled at by him before, but he never has grabbed her. The more silence that filled the room, the harder he gripped her arms causing bruises to form and her to whimper in pain. Pissed that she could whimper, but not answer him, he slammed her back against the wall screaming in her face "ANSWER ME DAMN IT."

   "Steve isn't better than you, Billy." She begged trying to give in a lie to calm him down "Please, you're hurting me."

    He wasn't buying it "Tell me I'm the only one that matters, or you're stuck on your own with that bastard kid."

   "You're the only one that matters."

    With that, he let her go and stumbled his ass over to the restroom where he spent the rest of night puking his brains out. Raven had slid down onto the floor with her back on the wall, same place, and for the first time ever, she placed her hand on her big belly rubbing it gently as she felt tears well up in her eyes a little exhausted from all of this. This goes to prove that neither of them are ready for any of this. What'd they get themselves into?

     Would he break his promise and dump her on her ass with their child? It was definitely a fear of hers; something she constantly found herself stressing about.  

   They both have all of problems. Not just Billy, but so does Raven.

   Not wanting to get into right now while he's puking his guts out, she mustered up the energy and grabbed a towel entering the restroom. The smell was horrible, it made her nearly throw up. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she gave him a wet rag to wipe his mouth and helped him onto his feet "Take a shower, and I bring you some clothes."

   "Yeah yeah, whatever." He groaned as he did what she said always and got in the shower.

   Leaving a pile of his clothes that he had left behind, she laid out some clothes for him the next morning. Once he came out of the restroom leaning his weight on the door frame in a state unable to make it to the futon; she got him there and brought him a glass of water "Here, drink."

    Running her hand through her hair with a very stressed sigh, she couldn't wait to get some sleep herself. Tomorrow, or technically it was very early Monday morning, but the point is that it was the start of a new week. Meaning, they had to get back to school and she wasn't ready. A bit sobered up, he took notice of her rubbing the bottom of her swollen feet and the dark circles under her eyes. She still had five more months to go with their baby and she was hurting.

    "Thanks, a-and m'sorry-y." He apologized reaching out to caress her cheek, but it was intercepted when she grabbed it with her own and took the water out of his other hand.

    Not now.

   "Don't worry about it, get some rest. See you in the morning." She softly pushed him down onto the futon with her hands on his chest.

  Not fighting, he did as she told him and within minutes, he was snoring so loudly. It didn't matter though, she was so exhausted laying on the other side of the futon on her side gather as much sleep as she could.

||

   The whole morning between them was once again, awkward and silent, other than the radio playing. Billy was still trying to wrap his head around what had occurred last night besides being a dick and hurting her. He knew what he did, he just couldn't form his words for her. He couldn't apologize.

   He felt a grave amount of regret though, especially when he had just so happen to see her dressing and could spot the yellow and black football like shaped bruise on her shoulder blades. He was becoming something he didn't want to, his father. He watched her slip on a sweater than obviously didn't zip over her belly, but he knew it was to cover the marks on her arms.

   "You alright?" He asked glancing at her for a moment seeing her figured as close to her door as possible. Her expression was blank, no emotion on it. That's not what was the scary part, it was the water in them that was building up. She wanted to cry, she needed to cry.

   Just not in front of him.

   "I'll live." She simply answered keeping her eyes out on the road, her hands on her lap.

   "You're lying, how the hell are we suppose to communicate when the kid gets here when you can't be honest with me right now?"

   Rolling her eyes, she hated it when he brought this shit up "We won't. This isn't going to work Billy. We're fucking kids; as soon as we graduate, you're going to leave to California, aren't you?" He didn't except her to accuse him.

   "Of course this won't work, not with that shit attitude! God damn it! I fuck up one time, and now I'm the bad guy? I'm fucking wasting my time driving your ungrateful ass around, and this is what I get in return? Jesus Christ, you are exactly like the rest of the cows here, thinking with your emotions and being a bitch. Grow the fuck up Princess!"

   If she wasn't fucked up before, this hurt her even more mostly because he was one of the only people that hadn't seen her the same way as the girls of Hawkins. It hurt because it came from the father of her unborn kid. Someone she thought really care about her. She was thankful for everything he's done for her, and she was just afraid he'd leave like everyone else.

    Finally blinking out tears in the first time in months, she quickly wiped them away getting really upset. Everything hit her at once; the stress, the pressure, the sadness, the insecurity, the horrible things people in town say about her, missing her family, and realization that she destroys everything around her. Her chest was uncontrollable rhythm as she held back her sobs. Her fingernails dug into the inside of her palms very tightly trying to calm herself down.

   It was yet another scary sight for him. Seeing she was getting herself worked up, and he caused this. She never cried, other than Steve and her family.

   "Pull over." She harshly breathed out, and when he asked 'what?' she needed to get out of his damn car "Pull over Billy!"

   Not wanting her yell again, he did so and watched her get out, struggling a bit of course, and grabbed her bags slamming his car door. Standing off in the grass on the side of the road, no one was around and they were well away from the school. Getting out of the drivers side, he watched her start to walk in the direction of the High School  "Where the hell are you going? Get back in the car!"

   "Why do you even care?" She turned around yelling back at him with those tears flooding down her cheeks throwing her hands in the air giving him a small glimpse of the marks she did to herself "You said it yourself, you're wasting your time and I'm just like everyone else, so I'm doing you a favor. Pretend like I don't exist. Do yourself right, and move back to California after graduation. I'm sorry for everything."

   Turning back around, she walked away letting out those sobs as he felt his heart drop more and more closer to his stomach. It was over. If this happened months before, he'd just laugh it off and continue on with his life. All he could think of is how much it hurt to replay those words in his head feeling his heart break, it hurt, and they weren't even dating.

   He just sat there in his car before he sped off to school.

||

 The more time Billy Hargrove and Raven Henderson spent together, the more of a drift it created between her and her best friend Steve. When he first approached her about it, she told him that she tutors Billy and in return, he picks her up and drops her off at work. Since then, let's just say observing things from a distance could make some of the wheels turn in someones head. So when Steve noticed the bruises on Raven's arms when she rolled her sleeves up for a moment, her sad and pained expressions, he put two and two together.

   That son of a bitch hurt her. Steve Harrington spent all day pissed about it, knowing he had to do something about it.

   "Hey Raven!" Steve called out to his friend grabbing her attention after the last bell rang. She turned around with a small smile "Hey Steve, what's up?"

  "Can we talk?" Oh god.

   Nodding, they walked to a private area on campus that no one would be at, she set her things down curiously what he wanted to talk about "Everything okay?"

   "I don't know Raven, is everything okay?"

  Playing dumb, she raised an eyebrow "What are you talking about?"

   "Raven, don't lie to me. I saw the bruises on your arm. Hargrove hurt you didn't he?" Seeing her look away, it answered his question and he ran his hand through his hair "Why are you with that guy? Really, it can't be because you're tutoring him. He's using you Raven, and he's hurting you. So tell me, what's going on?"

   She couldn't. She wanted to, but what's she suppose to say?

    "Nothings going on, don't worry," She said honestly "it wouldn't have worked anyway." Her face said it all when she gave him a sad smile.

   Billy Hargrove was the father.

    "Raven...please tell me he's not," telling him she's sorry, his blood boiled "you slept with him, and the son of a bitch is the father," He said out loud hitting him harder "but I told you to stay away from him, remember he busted up my face?  He hurt Lucas! The hell were you thinking?!"

  She wasn't, and she didn't want him to leave to "I'm sorry Steve, I messed up really badly. I'm scared, and hate myself. Please don't be mad at me."

   "Oh I'm not mad, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were different." If Billy's comments to her that morning didn't stab her in the heart, this did, and the big ball of pain in her chest grew bigger. With the he's disappointed in her, he walked away from her leaving his best friend alone.

      "Raven!"

    Max's voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she turned wiping her wet cheeks. "Hey Max, skateboarding today?"

   "Yeah, Billy didn't come, are you okay?" The thirteen year old wasn't dumb, she knew Raven.

   Shrugging, Max already knew "I was hoping it'd work out."

   Coming close to the Hargrove home, Billy's car wasn't there thankfully. Maybe things woulda worked out, but Raven didn't want to take the chance to have her heart broken "He tried, I'm the one that ended it. He deserves better than paying for my mistakes."

   "It takes tw-"

   "Max! Get to your room now!" Neil Hargrove's voice boomed from the front door, making the both of the girls staring at the man in fear. He had heard everything.

    Max sent her an apologetic look before entering the room leaving Raven and Neil alone.

   "You know, my boy is a screw up, but I will not let you ruin what little future he has. So you have two options you whore; get out of the state and never come back, or I will call CPS and get that child taken away from you. I'd chose wisely."

   Neither of those options were great, but she had nothing here anymore. Why would she stay? If no one could accept her, why the hell would they accept her child? There wasn't anything here for her, truly. And what she did have, was it worth her losing her baby? The ball of pain in her chest got much bigger when she thought of the people she would leave behind. Most of them she already pushed away. This baby was all she had left. Her everything.

   Looking down at her grow baby bump, she nodded, knowing what she had to do.

   "Goodbye Mr. Hargrove."

||

Five

Yeah, so I don’t know about the ending, I know it was shit, and rushed so I apologize. So I hope y’all like it, and I’ll try to update soon. 

-Cammy :)

Tagline: @50-shades-of-boredom  / @shelby-company-limited / @lalalindsay25631888 / @http://overrthinker.tumblr.com/ / @http://illatimes.tumblr.com/ @https://kaykay4454fan.tumblr.com/ / @https://dacres-koala.tumblr.com/

Did I forget anyone in the tagline? 

[firefield]

David Bowie - At The Kit Kat Klub (Live New York 99)

from the Brilliant Live Adventures box set

I’ve mentioned this before, but when this BLA project was announced, my initial thought was to wonder if there would be a “sameness” that could weave through the entire set. Different tours/albums, yes, but very similar band personnel with only some additions and subtractions in the drum/guitar/backing vox. Now with this 5 year period organized and so nicely produced, it’s actually surprising how pronounced the morphs of arrangement, approach, energy, and overall timbre actually are when you listen through the project. The only thing that seems relatively consistent is the quality of musicianship from all involved.

Side A has a nice suite-like progression from the stark Garson-only Life On Mars, to Thursday’s Child gently bringing in the band, to a wonderful Something In Air - a song that has shined more for me because of these live interpretations.

Side B begins with a sprightly and straight ahead rock rendition of China Girl, into a thumping and almost punk version of Can’t Help Thinking Of Me complete with exaggerated accent and Sterling’s pounding drums. This side closes with a show highlight for me, a contemplative and guitar-layered arrangement of Always Crashing In The Same Car. Weird side note: I always thought that Jasmine was “weeping” and I’ve always sung it that way, but Jasmine is clearly “peeping.” Hmmm. Food for thought.

Side C begins with a beautifully understated Survive, reminding me again how much the Hours material sometimes feels sharper, more natural and personal when performed live. Gone is the ‘97 arrangement of Stay and it’s back to a more traditional dual guitars setup, until… what? That brief funky section with Mike Garson doing his best Stevie Wonder keyboards impression is a trip. Ahhh… that’s a haunting Seven. You rarely hear David Bowie sing so…. casually. It’s nice. So much of Hours is delivered this way - as if he’s alone and singing into a mirror. I remember having that impression when Hours came out, and then eventually seeing the video for Thursday’s Child with yes, much of the video spent with David in a mirror, sometimes singing and sometimes letting the words continue on without him as he takes in his own aging face. I know one thing for sure: early 30’s me was not ready for Hours. Early 50’s me totally gets it.

Neat to hear the crowd sing along with Changes. These songs that us longtime fans have heard a thousand times, literally, and can often be understandably tired of, really are great songs even though it’s hard to hear them as they are without all our baggage. My young son *loves* Changes…. When he was around 5 he told me one time,

“David Bowie is not very smart.”

“Why do you think that Evan?”

“Well, he says ‘turn and face the train’ and that is not smart at all. David Bowie should tell you to run from the train. Also, trying to put out fires with gasoline is a really, really bad idea. I like David Bowie, but he has some bad ideas.”

I love Sterling’s drumming here on Pretty Things are Going To Hell. Another great live interpretation. Kit Kat closes with a growling I’m Afraid Of Americans which stands out to me because it’s the first time you’ve felt some real tension and atonality in an otherwise pretty placid and smooth show. I like this squelchy version with its space and upfront backing vocals.

For all the stress involved with the splotchy rollout of this box set, it’s a fantastic listen, and the fact that six mid-90’s DB shows would be this popular just blows me away. In contrast to how the internet feels sometimes with all its negativity towards art and artists and the commerce involved in getting that art into our ears, his music is still enjoyed beyond just the “hits,” and these fantastic documents of David Bowie the live performer are valuable and welcome by so many around the world.

[droneseco]

Gravastar Mars Is a Portable Speaker From Our Apocalyptic Future

Gravastar Mars Damaged Yellow Edition

8.00 / 10

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The Gravastar Mars is unique, beautiful, and sounds rather good too. It's the perfect little buddy to usher in the apocalypse with you. At $300 for the Damaged Yellow edition, it certainly isn't cheap. But nice things generally aren't. 

Specifications

Brand: Gravastar / Zoeao

Connectivity: Bluetooth 5.0, 3.5mm AUX

Battery: ~20 hours, charged by USB-C

Water Resistance: None

Pros

I mean... just look at it! It's gorgeous.

Cons

Audio is a little mid and top heavy

Pricey

Volume control is too sensitive

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The Gravastar Mars is both an eye-catching work of art and a great portable or desktop speaker. Taking the form of a scuttling drone from the far-flung war-torn future apocalypse (so... probably next year at this rate), the spherical-shaped Mars with three extendable legs features attractive lighting focussed around the eyeball in the center.

Today we're taking a look at the War Damaged Yellow edition, which is hand-painted with blue lighting and retails at $300.

Also available is a Damaged Red edition (with yellow lighting), as well undamaged editions in "space gray" with green lighting, or "sci-fi blue" with blue lighting. The undamaged models are $100 cheaper at $200, which is still a fair chunk of change for a portable Bluetooth speaker.

Gravastar Mars Design

Looking like something that escaped from the Aperture Laboratories (in fact, Gravastar did have a white edition at one point, though it's either out of stock or withdrawn from sale), the Gravastar Mars weighs a hefty 3.5lbs (1.6kg), and stands a full 7.5 inches. It's quite a beast to behold. In a cute sort of way.

The case is predominantly a strong zinc alloy on the top and underside, though the mid-section appears to be plastic.

The LED lighting is focused on the front, but you'll also find smaller accent lighting on the side grills, and the legs, which can fold for storage.

On the underside, you'll find the USB-C charging port, and 3.5mm Aux input. I found myself wanting to apologize to the lil guy for exposing his sensitive belly like this.

A fabric-covered charging cable is included in the box, as well as a stereo cable. The charging cable is right-angled on one end, so it can be fitted to charge the unit without needing to leave him rolled over in a most undignified manner.

You can also purchase an optional charging base for $60, though we didn't receive one for testing.

Around the rear is a separate bass driver (no special lighting around that), and above that sit three buttons for controlling the device. These consist of main power, LED, and Bluetooth buttons.

Long pressing on the power button plays a neat deactivation or power-on sequence, while the LED button can be used to turn on or off the integrated lighting if you want.

The Bluetooth functions much as expected, with a long press of the button to enter pairing mode. The device utilizes Bluetooth 5.0 for latency-free audio, and I was more than happy streaming YouTube to it without experiencing the timing mismatch that sometimes occurred on older wireless speakers. But if you did have problems, there's always the aux input underneath.

On the very top of the main body there's a touch-sensitive volume slider with more blue LEDs to indicate the current volume level.

While visually impressive, you do need to be careful. Just picking the Mars up or brushing your hand across the top can result in an auditory bomb as the volume goes from o to 100 in no time at all. Perhaps two touch-sensitive buttons to increase the volume in discrete stages would have been less dangerous to my ears. I may sound old, but this thing can get ridiculously loud.

In terms of functionality, there's nothing else to be found here. There's no robotic voice assistant integration. It doesn't have an actual pew-pew laser. And the legs are purely there for stability—you can't remote control it.

As a single speaker, both channels are mixed together for mono output. But if your pockets are deep enough, you can hook up two for stereo sound.

Audio Quality

As a $300 speaker (admittedly, the "undamaged" editions are $200, so a fair chunk of this cost goes on the hand-painted finishing process), I expect the Gravastar Mars to sound as good as it looks. Thankfully it lived up to my expectations.

I ran through a selection of audio tests from AudioCheck.net, and couldn't identify any glaring issues. I will note that on the bass response test, I could only hear down to 40Hz, while 30Hz and 20Hz produced no audible bass, but did result in a small amount of distortion noise. I couldn't hear this during regular usage, however.

48dB below full-scale volume was about the limit of the dynamic range I could identify.

More importantly, I ran through a range of songs I'm familiar with, and they all sounded decent enough. You should however bear in mind that the laws of physics prevent something this small from producing floor-shaking bass.  It's a good speaker for its size that punches well above its weight, but it's still a little top and mid-heavy for my tastes.

You aren't going to run a DJ set from this, but you might take it down the park for a post-apocalypse picnic.

Repairability

On a device of this size, it's nice to see exposed bolts and screws as such an integral part of the overall design aesthetic.

Though I haven't fully disassembled it, the upper zinc-alloy casing is for looks only and is secured by two hex bolts on the sides. Pulling this shell away reveals the main body of the device, in the same strong plastic as the middle section. A number of smaller hex bolts also secure the bass driver. You'll need a precision repair kit such as the iFixit Mahi to open this.

A set of small Phillips-head screws then secures the control circuitry to the main body, and I suspect the entire thing could be disassembled relatively easily to its component level.

iFixit doesn't have a repairability rating, but in my opinion the prospects are good. I'll update if I ever have the need to try.

Battery Life

The internal 10,000mAh battery provides a stated 20 hours playback. I streamed Spotify to it for around four hours a day at medium volume, with the lighting on, and it lasted into the fifth day, so this seems accurate enough. A full charge takes around four hours.

It's not the best in class battery life by any means, but then again, I don't think the battery matters too much in this type of product. It's an objet d'art for your desktop; not your one and only block-party speaker. Chances are you won't be far from a charger.

  Best Collapse Buddy

The Gravastar Mars is beautifully designed, sounds good, and is truly unique. Yes, it's expensive, but well-made and unique things tend to be. If you want something a little different on your desktop or are looking for the perfect gift for gaming obsessed teenager, the Gravastar Mars would be well received.

If you just want some generic rectangular-shaped black plastic tat to take to the beach, then I'm sure Amazon can cater to your whims with 6,000 identical product listings at bargain prices.

The Gravastar Mars is the perfect little buddy to rock out with as modern society crumbles around us. I just wish he was a little more talkative and would stop staring at me so intently with his ominous blue eye.

  Gravastar Mars Is a Portable Speaker From Our Apocalyptic Future published first on http://droneseco.tumblr.com/

[lickupmycakespills-blog]

Effective Bass Fishing Tips

So you requisite to turn a voice anglerfish? Largemouth and smallmouth ostinato are either a person or furnished species of search. How does a somebody go roughly play to low seek? You can get overwhelmed with TV shows, videotapes, vocalizer publications, seminars, etc, but these are for the old bass angler. For the someone new to bass sportfishing this will better get you started with commodity collection. BASS TACKLE Get with one moving rod and one casting rod. My partner Zebediah suggests that a fivesome to six add substance hard moving or sportfishing rod in the mid-priced range is adequate for a turn. Let the confront financier where you buy your rod evoke the careen that matches your new fishing contact. Sequester the longways to the rod. Now lay the rod crossways your unsealed crewman. The rod should lie dead noneffervescent if the rod and swag component. The coefficient of the longways should equalized the coefficient of the rod. If the rod and keel together are not counterbalanced then you will stamp with the coefficient either first or blate. If you hit enough casts in a day with an unbalanced turnout, your wrist will let you live the next day, it give be tender. CASTING Casting truth is putting the stimulate into a bucket in the backrest curtilage or a fish hidey- depression at a interval of almost twenty-five feet. With training you leave turn proficient at sportfishing. Implementation in your own hinder tract before the flavour begins. Ironically the most accurate lurch is the copy reel, the hardest to key, patch the spinning careen is the minimal close. LINE When it is period to acquire blood, buy the plant firewood monofilament road. Zebediah uses ten-pound endeavour credit for all his low angling. If Zeb knows he gift search galore stick-ups and rocks he may tie on virtually ten feet of program adapt. This is a rattling bullnecked, yet, skeletal enough road for sportfishing among stick-ups and scrap and knicks and abrasions do not alter the c LURES Lures are {like the leaves on a tree, sempiternal in limit and a catalog can surprise your psyche. When you walkway into your rival paraphernalia keep it is awful the assort of unlike lures, premeditated to snap singer, that are decoration on the stratum. In what body of water are there no centrarchid sit and minnows? There are ternion types of lures in Zeb's tackle box, spinners, heavy different and plastic worms. All of Zeb's eccentric baits emulate in colorise a perch, headfish, or cyprinid. There are quaternity situations where you moldiness tell a incompatible write of provoke for each set of circumstances. Let me vindicate: In the azoic period or tardive day top liquid lures that copy yelling vocalist baits are the lures to use. In this place, buzz baits, spinners with a yellowish or caucasian skirts or a combination of apiece variety is a spare slave. Other agency is the floating provoke that you move, get, and break and regain at will. DOCKS When sportfishing neighbouring, under, and around docks a colour or graple worm with a red firetail, lateen Texas style is an fantabulous agency. Think your worm ever so slowly, lifting the tip of your rod nigh terzetto to six inches each example, possession the stock hermetic. Be a pedigree watcher or view the goal in your unhampered pointer so you can consider the tap- tap of a resist. When using spinners Sportfishing weedlines and weeds presents other set of angling circumstances. When fishing from a boat, Zebediah anchors on the maximal urgency of the weedline and fan casts over the garment. With a spinster bait he reels honourable hot sufficiency to mark the top of the weeds. Sometimes he reels to the provide of the garment and then lets the spinster thump to the bout. Then he reels slowly position to the boat. Other lure to use is a shallow functioning screwball decoy. In what embody of irrigate are there centrarchid and rest? I don't bed of any embody of thing without mola, perch or both. Your locomote baits should resemble these search. Don't locomote your dish yet. You comfort human your Texas music colourise insect and unplumbed diving nutcase baits in your appurtenances box. You have iii sections of the weedline you harbour't investigated. Try cast you rest or percoid monochromic start enticement off the proximity and elevate of your dish retrieving nonconvergent with the weedline. Then fan copy inaccurate from the dish into deeper facility retrieving at antithetic speeds. Finally use your plastic insect alter to the band retrieving easy as you did when fishing docks. BOAT ACCESSORIES The most significant patch of equipment is a sentence preserver for apiece being on live. If you do most of your sportfishing from a boat there are different pieces of equipment you power uncovering effective. One is a search surveyor or search finder. Do not acquire the commanding tech gear at low, turn with the underlying firing powered light. Another helping of adapt you could use is a confusable to the one victimised in the kid's tank. An inexpensive thermometer that you decrease to the oblong as you can get a measurement from twoscore to lxxx degrees is all that is essential. SURVIVAL Largemouth basso last both in summer and season because they are cold-blooded. Some the wet temperature, their body temperature is the aforesaid. Ostinato can last in thing from thirty-five to fourscore degrees but the saint temperature is sixty- digit to seventy degrees. Largemouth vocalizer are hunt specialists. You faculty find part around docks, trees, logs, stumps, and monumental rocks surrounded by garment. This is the location reach of largemouth singer so this is the region to get and do combat with the bass. One abstract that can validness you to modification your strategy is a silvery sunny sky, with vindicated liquid, or a gelid trickster. At this instant voice go wakeless. Few leave go low into the band neighbour intense pockets so mostly you moldiness seek intense. When the brave decoration is vocaliser conduct. By this measure you bang a neat tune how to be a voice fisherman. Cite you are entry the largemouth's backwards tract. He survives in this surroundings and he ever knows what occurs in his residence reach. The largemouth needs indisputable things to live. He needs plenty of nutrient, contact to pelt and scupper his creature, and an nonesuch temperature. Care for these situations. This is where you instrument reach "old vessel spokesperson." Decide your interpret and another noesis and preparation until you are winning. Fill with this airway, and you gift score umpteen good Zeb taught me nigh fishing a lake is to figure the lake into music. Equate a tic-tac-toe box on top of the lake map. Now seek apiece box separately until you get the hangouts for the low. Indication the map where you caught the vocaliser. Suggest onto the succeeding box and so forth. Also you might impoverishment to cook a journal describing win, sky, h2o temperature, lures and hook. BEST Reading TO Basso FISH When is the good instant to go voice angling? Anytime and as ofttimes as you can. Peter Barrett says, "undefeated bass angling is 40% fortune, 75% certainty in what you are doing, and 100% of getting forth from mowing the lawn, remunerative debts, and anything else."

[itsworn]

TROG Brings Street Racing to Drag Racing’s SoCal Birthplace

Back in 2012, a small drag-oriented event held on the East Coast called the Race of Gentlemen (TROG) shook the hot rod scene. Although it gathered only 15 hot rods and 15 motorcycles, it still captured the imagination of gearheads the world over. It was organized on the beach and featured aesthetics reminiscent of faded pictures glued in a 1950s photo album.

Over the years, other TROGs have come and gone, including one in 2016 that tread the sand of Pismo Beach, California (unfortunately plagued by stormy weather). Promoter Mel Stultz and his crew traveled back home afterwards, thinking another race was unlikely to take place on the West Coast. Yet, surprisingly, officials from the scenic city of Santa Barbara contacted Stultz in 2018 and asked him to have an event in town! They made it clear racing on the sand would not be an option, but how about using a street along the beach?

Willys Window: Hot Rod Ranch’s Gil Muro provided this unique perspective of Santa Barbara’s staging lanes through the tinted Plexiglas of his survivor Willys Gasser. Photo: Gil Muro

Stultz loved the idea, and so was born the TROG Santa Barbara Drags. He came to town with the support (and members) of his club, the Oilers, which had been established in Carlsbad, California, in 1947 and was revived a few years ago. The Oilers, with help from local enthusiasts, transformed Cabrillo Boulevard in front of Santa Barbara’s Hilton Beachfront Resort into an eighth-mile dragstrip, where 30 motorcycles and 70 pre-1935 cars entered grudge matches, with no trophy spoiling the fun. As a bonus, an exhibit called Customs by the Sea welcomed a selection of fantastic pre-1959 traditional custom cars.

Want to see more TROG action this year? The city of Wildwood, New Jersey, will have another can’t-miss sand-slinging event on October 4-6.

First in Line: Jimmy White, the owner of Circle City Hot Rods in Orange, California, hasn’t driven his well-known ’31 Model A much in recent years, but he decided to get it ready for the event. This old hot rod, found in Riverside, California, runs a nasty 334ci Hemi equipped with a 6×2 Weiand manifold. It had the honor of making the first pass of the day with Muro’s Willys, the cover car for our latest Gasser-themed issue (“Willys Fever,” May 2019).

Ex-Stocker: Roseville, California’s Jim Luke bought a 100 percent stock ’29 Model A, right down to its mechanical brakes. It had been restored decades ago. Over the course of a year he morphed it into this jalopy, keeping the original rails but installing ’40s hot rod specifics: juice brakes, a ’39 Ford gearbox, a 21-stud flathead, Sharp heads, a Thickstun intake manifold, an Isky cam . . .

Another Bird: We showed you Lynn Bird’s blue ’32 Ford three-window coupe back in March 2019 (“Distinctive Deuce”). Always the tinkerer, his latest endeavor is this great-looking ’25 Model T. It is motivated by a ’49 Mercury flathead that’s assembled with Offenhauser heads and an Edmunds intake. The body sits on heavily modified ’34 Chevy framerails. Bird won most of his races.

Raging Orange: One of the fastest cars running the eighth-mile, the historic Orange Crate (now owned by Steve Gilligan) wowed the crowd with its good looks and performance. Brothers Bob and Terry Tindle bought the ’32 Ford Tudor already chopped in 1959 and went on to transform it into a fast strip contender. It features a tilt body along with a Hilborn-injected 417ci Olds motor with a Potvin blower.

Bad to the Bones: Rolling Bones member Dick Deluna drives and races his ’34 Ford five-window (which has been chopped 6 inches) all over the nation. Check out the unusual grille from a Canadian Cockshutt tractor. Behind it resides a ’49 8BA flathead now displacing 284 ci. It received Stromberg carbs, Navarro heads, an Offenhauser two-carb manifold, and a Vertex magneto.

Heavy Chop: Back from making a pass, this is Tom McIntyre’s ’32 three-window Ford from the Rolling Bones crew. It performed well, courtesy of a ’54 Dodge Ram Hemi bolted to a five-speed ’box for long-distance journeys. The coupe additionally uses a Halibrand quick-change and an aluminum bellypan.

Pretty Penny: Alex Carlos struggled a bit to see the flagman behind the wheel of his chopped Penny Hemi Model T. Spectators loved the car’s track antics, watching as it flew down the eighth-mile thanks to a 354ci Hemi fed by a Weiand intake manifold and six carbs. A four-speed BorgWarner transmission gets the power to the ground.

Sushi and Louis: Team Throttle Racing from Japan entered the field with this (near lane) narrowed modified driven by TROG regular Atsushi “Sushi” Yasui. Behind it sits Louis Stands’ 1927 Ford roadster equipped with a 327ci powerplant from a ’63 Corvette.

Little Zip: A recent Craigslist find, this 1927 T owned by Reno, Nevada, resident Rory Forbes appeared to have been a California circle track racer as far back as 1949. On the dash resides a plaque stating, “Participant NHRA National Drags-1959 Detroit, Mich.” The roadster hasn’t changed much in the last 60 years, still featuring its Joe Bailon paint and Tommy the Greek striping.

Hot Rod Lady: Diana Branch owns both a colorful ’29 Ford roadster and this ’32 Tudor, running a Studebaker V8 bored to 299 ci, a Chevy five-speed transmission, and a Chevy ’57 rearend. The sedan’s good looks should be attributed to the 4 1/2-inch chop and 5-inch channel. The Glacier Blue Chrysler metallic paint does not hurt either.

Stude Study: Traveling with his wife Diana, Tom Branch joined the mayhem with his real steel ’32 Ford showcasing a 304ci ’63 Studebaker V8, hopped up with four Stromberg carbs. Fabian Valdez at Vintage Hammer Garage helped build the roadster, which is fitted with ’50 Pontiac taillights, 15×4 and 15×8.5 American Racing mags, and Inglewood slicks in the back.

The British Are Coming: These 1960s-styled Deuces are owned by two U.K. expatriates. In the near lane is Nostalgia Ranch’s Jay Dean with his 331ci Cad V8 five-window coupe, chopped 3 1/2 inches. In the far lane is Dice Magazine’s Dean Micetich with his three-window, which was painted in 1964. It relies on a ’55 Cad motor and ’57 Olds rearend. Dean dropped the driveshaft during this run, but got it fixed to participate again later!

Spirit of ’47: We introduced you to Paul Gommi in HRD’s Sept. 2018 issue (“The Way We Were”). The competitive racer brought his supercharged ’32 Ford roadster, which was built in 1947 and ran 129 mph at El Mirage shortly after. All eyes were on Gommi, who won his class at the 2018 RPM Nationals, but issues with the flathead’s block didn’t allow him to perform as well as expected.

Local Racers: The Hanssen family are the caretakers of these two racers built by Willis Baldwin of Santa Barbara. On the left is the ’49 Baldwin Special, and on the right, the bare aluminum C/Mod ’51 Baldwin Special used from 1954 until 1957 in SCCA competition. The ’49 Special runs a ’46 Merc flathead with a full-race Clay Smith cam, Edelbrock heads, and triple Strombergs; the ’51 Special is also powered by a Merc flathead, this one fitted with Ardun heads.

Welcome Back: It was good to see Gene Winfield in Santa Barbara, looking none the worse for wear after his European ordeal last year. He was attending a car show in Finland in September when he broke his hip in a bad fall. During recovery, he came down with pneumonia; that and other health complications made it impossible for him to fly commercially back to the States. A GoFundMe page set up to get him home reached its goal in just a few days, and he was back in the U.S. by late October.

Colorado Rods: The Lucky Tramps Car Club out of Colorado presented a couple of fine rides driven by an equally fine couple. Brooke Dolan drove the Deuce coupe with S.Co.T. supercharged flathead power and Navarro heads, while husband Daniel competed with a ’34 five-window Ford with a flathead V8, too.

Fun T Time: Tegan Hammond had a ton of fun racing the Hammond family’s ’27 Ford roadster. The powerplant of choice is a rare 1927 HAL double-overhead-cam four-cylinder. By the next decade, few utilized that engine, as it had been surpassed by Ford’s flathead V8.

Grandpa’s Headers: The exhaust on the banger engine in Jenny Boostrom’s ’23 Model T roadster was fabricated by Jesse Belond, grandson of famed exhaust maker Sandy Belond, using a vintage photo they found as reference. So far it’s the only one, but Jesse hopes to make more, “trying to keep Grandpa’s name out there.” Arch Gratz built the motor with a rare Thomas intake and head, and two Stromberg 81 carbs. Clayton’s Hot Rods in Santa Cruz, California, put the car together, which Jesse bought for Jenny as a Christmas present.

Barnes’ Find: A ’32 Ford coupe with the Pacific Ocean and Channel Islands National Park in the background—what’s not to like? The chopped Deuce belonging to John Barnes had been drag raced around 1951-1954. Lack of hood allowed spectators to admire the supercharged flathead V8 with Fenton heads.

Lake Refugee: Racing against Daniel Shircliff’s orange A is “Hudson Joe” Buffardi’s ’29 Ford roadster, prepared with an uncommon ’49 337ci Lincoln flathead. It is fed by dual Merc side-draft carbs on an Edmunds intake and runs a Potvin cam and Mallory dual-point ignition. It seems that the car raced at El Mirage in the 1950s through the mid 1960s. When Buffardi bought it in 2004 it was “just a body.” He fabricated the hood, nose, and grille. Notice the neat aircraft-inspired exhaust system.

Wheeler’s Wheels: David Wheeler is a regular racer, having competed at the TROG Pismo race and the 2018 RPM Nationals (see our Mar. 2019 issue). He made a handful of passes with his stout Model T.

As the Flag Drops: Tom Franzi of Germany is ready to hammer the throttle of his Model A, which was built in the mid- to late-1950s. He bought it about a week before the race. Seemingly painted metalflake in the 1960s, the 6-inch-channeled roadster with sectioned ’32 grille received a ’56 324ci Olds Rocket V8 at some point.

Harley Alley: The event wasn’t only about cars, as 30 vintage bikes made a ton of passes all day long. Incidentally, Harley-Davidson was a major sponsor of the Santa Barbara Drags.

Wayne’s World: This nice lineup of healthy motors is led by a not-so-common Wayne head-equipped 235ci Chevy six motivating Cedric Meeks’ ’34 Ford coupe. Cedric is the son of Russ Meeks, who won the Grand National Roadster Show’s AMBR award in 1972 with his well-known tilt-body, rear-engined Model A roadster.

Bronze Flame: Lars Mapstead is just the third owner of the Bronze Flame, a real-deal survivor of 1950s hot rodding that still wears its original lacquer flamed paint job over a steel (not aluminum) track nose fabricated by Sam Barris. Original owner Ed Donato raced the car at the lakes and the Santa Ana drags before putting it in storage for some five decades. The car is no museum piece, as Mapstead has run it at the RPM Nationals and the TROG beach race in New Jersey.

By the Sea: TROG Santa Barbara wasn’t only about hot rods. The Hilton’s rotunda also the terrific Customs by the Sea exhibit. It actually called for additional vehicles to be displayed on site, but regulations forced promoters to park a bunch of cars on the other side of the wall, facing the ocean. The two ’36 Fords belong to Alan Windard (Throttlers CC, Salt Lake City) and Jon Fisher (Burbank Choppers CC).

Refined ’50s: It was great to see two of the most elegant chopped customs built in recent years. Scott Roberts’ 1954 Mercury (foreground) cruises thanks to a 292ci Y-block. It features a bunch of traditional alterations: shaved door handles, frenched headlights, rounded corners on the hood and doors, and more. It kept company with Kelly and Mark Skipper’s ’51 Ford with ’53 Chevy teeth.

Buick Beauty: Steve Pierce selected what some might consider an unlikely candidate for a custom project, a ’40 Buick coupe. Among the most noticeable modifications: a top chopped 4 inches in front and 5 1/2 in the back, ’39 Ford headlights, and ’41 Cad bumpers. The color is reminiscent of Ford’s famous Washington Blue.

Grapevine Redux: Back in the day, spray gun extraordinaire Larry Watson prowled the boulevards of Kustomland in a ’50 Chevy that was first painted black and silver. He later resprayed the car in lavender, which is when it acquired the name Grapevine. John Denich owns this clone built with accuracy in mind, from the ’55 Olds headlight rings and side trim to the ’53 Chevy grille and ’54 Merc taillights.

Deuce Duo: The Burbank Choppers Car Club had a handful of rides on site, including this pair of Deuces. Jack Carroll drove the painted example to Santa Barbara. The 5-inch-chopped body shell sits on a chassis assembled by Lynn Bird. Unlike Carroll’s coupe, Deron Wright’s 283ci three-window (right) wasn’t channeled. He also drives it with five-spoke mags compatible with a 1960s hot rod appearance.

The 1,000-Mile Trip: Yep, Daniel Shircliff traveled in his daily driven Model A from Phoenix for the weekend, adding a thousand miles to the odometer. His Craigslist find was apparently built around 1961-1962 and last driven in the 1970s.

Antique Vibe: Blessed by beautiful weather, the staging lanes remained packed all day long. With 70 cars registered, each participant had the opportunity to make several runs. Palm trees as far as the eye can see contributed to the fantastic vibe of this inaugural get-together which, we hope, will return to the West Coast in 2020.

The post TROG Brings Street Racing to Drag Racing’s SoCal Birthplace appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network https://www.hotrod.com/articles/trog-brings-street-racing-drag-racings-socal-birthplace/ via IFTTT

[smartoptionsio]

Fat Pigs Signals: Armed Pigs fighting Bears

Fat Pigs Signals Review

+++Bear Market Resistant Binance Signals+++

(Listed in “The Best Crypto Signals since 11/2018 – updated 03/2019) ~ Binance Signals| Portfolio Analysis | News ~

%

Average Accuracy Rate

 Measured Accuracy Rate on Average since September '18

Fair Warning: Fat Pig Signals do not come with bells & whistles. They don’t sell you a well-decorated tiny piece of meat on a noble looking plate – here you get a juicy steak like Grandma did, though from smart guys, which know how to bring that bacon home! We tested Fat Pig Signals in the worst bear market. Bitcoin just destroyed the 4K support and the markets tanked like if they were searching for pearls on the ground of the Mariana Trench.  Sure, right now there is an Alt Season, but when I started to monitor their trades, was a phase where the most left and right collected stop/losses as if they were stamps. To be honest, I am still puzzled how they do it – but in times, where you start the Binance app and see more blood than on a Butcher’s table, these guys have their trades running in the few assets which show green. Fat Pig Signals slaughter their way to the bear market – and by the way, their chat alone is so funny, it is worth the membership fees (for friends with a more rough kind of humor, though). This, by the way, is great to have here – the admins spread much knowledge there and you can extract great extra trades from time to time.

The Offering:

Binance signals with great risk management

News updates

Portfolio management (mid & long-term)

Private Facebook Group

Friendly chat and well-versed team

Their signals flowed like the video below

The Signals

The signals come plain and simple here, always with the appropriate technical analysis attached. In September we saw a nice 100% trade, which could have even become a 200% trade if we’d hold it for more ($XRP) – these guys catch those movers and have a great hand for the right picks. This is not a fluffed up service with tons of features. They bring what they are paid for: successful binance signals – and boy, they delivered even in the worst markets. These signals are priceless in the current markets and checking their long-term history, one can see that they really know what they do. Since September they showed a long-term consistent accuracy of 82.84%, tendency rising. Most often they aim for targets in the 25% range. Their community values their accuracy and praises them a lot in the very active chat room, where one can spot many additional setups.

Signals Example

Trade for GO/BTC

Well, this is going to be interesting on the chart, as this trade became a 154% trade, and that while BTC was shitting the bed. GO even didn’t stop there and went much higher in the coming days, but hey, I don’t complain about a 154% profit in the worst market conditions.

Go Trade on the Chart

Market Update by Fat Pig Signals

The Results

Fat Pig Signals are able to deliver results.  Recently we see accuracy rates between 90 and 100%, but we are in good market conditions. It is more important to consider the results they have shown when everything was red, like in our test month, which ended pretty positive with around 110% profit – and that while Bitcoin headed sub 4k. What I liked very much that these AGP (Account Growth Potential) has been achieved with just around 14 trades, so they don’t overdo it with the trades, but instead select carefully the good ones. The stops never exceeded 10% loss, so they always kept a good Risk:Reward ratio in mind and the few losses have been ironed out nicely. One cannot count the many trade setups which have been posted in direct customer communication in their chat room, which is very active, but surely you can grab some education there in a loose and funny atmosphere (ok sometimes the jokes go a bit far, but it is a thing of taste, I guess).

The Support

They are always around and they maintain quite a neat big support team, and there is always someone near, willing to help. The traders are very active themselves are very active in the chat room and always around when it comes to the need for a helping hand. Customers can also request help in private messages, they are very easy and one has to ask when do they ever sleep.

The Critique

 No big critics here. They always consider the Bitcoin movement before handing out a signal, they have proper stops in place. They support their members very actively in their chat. The Risk:Reward might be considered as mediocre, though to some if you consider its ratio between target 1, the stop and the finally locked in target gains. However, this is a critique on paper and totally OK if it is their strategy which helps them to keep up with the high accuracy provided.

What makes this channel unique? 

The channel has a very unique flavor, which you cannot bring this down to a few words. They don’t feature much extras and gimmicks, they plain and simple offer rocking altcoin signals, no matter how bad the markets are. Notable is, for sure, the community they developed in their chat rooms – this is where you get their style the best. Sometimes rough (users not admins), but always very helpful and educating. They restrict their signals to coins/tokens with decent volume, which makes it easy to get in and out and also decreases the risk of getting pumped & dumped. Good research behind the trades. Furthermore, they feature a 24/7 YouTube Channel where people can see them live trading, making sure their work is unique and based on their real trading knowledge.

Customer Insights Review

In this section, we ask existing customers or members of the smart options telegram channel for an additional unbiased review. Form and content are completely free, so the channel tester is free to express his/her opinion. This customer insights review has been provided by long-term Fat Pig Signals member Felix.

“Hello out there. My name is Felix and today it´s my turn to give you a short summary of my experience in the last 6 months with FPS VIP Service. Like I mentioned before I joined the FPS VIP Service in October 2018 and the results are fantastic.

The Signals

First Point I want to mention is the signals themselves. So, to be honest when I joined, I thought TA is just nonsense, but FPS taught me the opposite. The signals are shared very fast and the market updates are very quickly available after some rapid movements in the market. Sometimes it happens that these signals run up very fast after they were shared in VIP Chanel, but this is just if it’s a lower volume coin. I personally just use the BTC and ETH updates to make some leverage trades with the signals shared but I also have a look at the Altcoin signals and mostly they hit the provided targets very fast. From time to time there is a signal that is running into the opposite direction than expected but the also provided Stop-loss gets triggered and you´re out of the trade without too much loss. Generally, there is just a very low percentage of “Failed Signals” and if you trade all these signals you should be in a significant profit soon.

The Technical Analysis

The second point will be the TA (Technical Analysis) that gets provided on top of the Signals. I mentioned before that there are 2 different types of Signals shared in the VIP Chanel. On the one hand there are the Altcoin signals and on the other hand, you will find market updates on the biggest cryptocurrency’s like Bitcoin, Ethereum, Ripple, Litecoin and BCash. For these updates, you get also provided the TA why these Targets are where they are, and you will learn a lot just from reading these Updates. If you have some further questions why this price-level should act as Support or Resistance, there is the open Telegram group where you can ask anything and have lots of fun in there. This leads me to my third point.

The Chat Room & Support

The third point is the Telegram Group and the Admins in there. Since I joined FPS I´m spending a lot of time in the Fat Pig Chat. There are quite a lot of admins and it seems as there would be a 24/7 support. If you have any questions about recent Signals that were shared or even, you have some questions about your personal TA just ask in there. There are a lot of pretty good traders in there that are willing to help you within minutes. Now after I’m in that group for almost 6 months I have to say it is not just a signal service for me it got more for me personally. It just feels like a big Family you join, and everyone is nice and helps each other. Especially Gang Plank and C K in Telegram supported me a lot in starting my own TA and they give me some pieces of advice and answer all of the questions I have, and these are a lot to be honest because I´m just at the beginning. The support you receive from those people in this group is amazing.

The Customer Judgement

In the end, I would like to summarize my thoughts on FPS and I really have to say that these guys are totally worth their money. You don’t just receive these sick signals with a decent accuracy, NO you also get all this amazing admins and the other members in Fat Pig Chat are decent. If you just want to make money and you’re not interested in a community just go for the VIP Signal Service and trade these Signals and you will make your money back within few weeks just depending on your funds you’re trading with. If you want to make money and search for a nice and amazing Community just go for FPS Signal Service and get into Fat Pig Chat as soon as possible. I guess you will feel soon that this was the right decision.

To finalize my summary, I would like to thank all the FPS team for this amazing support you provide your signals are the best out there and I love every day I’m in telegram with you guys <3.

Hope to see you soon in the Fat Pig Chat and give you this feeling I had when I joined the Fat Pigs!”

THE JUDGEMENT

Fat Pig Signals offer unique work. You will never find stolen signals or anything else shady with them – an upfront, honest signal provider with a strong community, which engages you to learn in a funny environment. That being said, the received signals are always from great quality and an outstanding sign of quality is how they monitor the complete crypto market environment before they are handing out trading recommendation. The technical analysts’ knowledge consists of way more than “muh triangle memes” and to be honest, I love their “almost hidden” BitMEX signals they give as a bonus here and there. For those who complain about the Risk:Reward – it is all part of their strategy and has been proven to be consistently successful. Thing is, if you have proven track record and success rate like Fat Pigs for months and months, you can allow yourself this drawback. All in all, Top work for a real good price. 1 Eth for three months is more than justified, if ETH drops another time like I did in the last month’s I’d make sure to get a yearly subscription at a discount. Oink.

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Fact Sheet for Fat Pig Signals

Official website: www.fatpigsignals.com

Telegram Contact: @dad10 or @gangplank123

Discount Code:  SmartOptions (-10%)

Plans & Pricing: 3 months 1 ETH |  6 months 1.5 ETH | 12 months 2.5 ETH (spot conversion to BTC possible; Discount not deducted)

Auto Trader: No

Special Features: Great Community behind this service, relative safe quality signals - even in the worst bear markets, trades only in highly liquid coins to avoid risky pumps.

Signals with technical analysis: All signals came with a technical analysis

Chatroom: @fatpigtrollbox

ResultTracking: Constantly updated sheet on Google Docs

Exchanges: Binance

Trading Timezones: 24hrs

Free Channel: @fatpigsignals 

How the paid channel looks like: 

Trusted Signal Provider

Fat Pig Signals is a Trusted Signal Provider

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[raggywaltz1954]

Rolling right along with the musical celebration of April, the first full month of spring, here’s an interesting album from the late flutist Herbie Mann.  Mann was a dedicated bebopper, but in the late 1950’s and into the 1960’s, he delved into world music, particularly Afro-Cuban and Latin music, and created some intriguing music in process.

The Music

Tune: I’ll Remember April

Recorded 5 May and 26 July, 1960 in New York City

Herbie Mann:  Flute

Johnny Rae:  Vibraphone

Nabil “Knobby” Totah:  Bass

Rudy Collins:  Drums

Ray Mantilla:  Conga

Ray Barretto:  Bongos

This is one of the more unique renditions of this jazz standard, given a Cal Tjader-ish arrangement with its hybrid of jazz and Afro-Cuban mashup.  This is also a unique instrumentation; there’s no guitar or piano to hide behind.  It’s just you and the bass, with percussion as a foundation.  In this exposed setting, the boys are separated from the men, and the men here rise to the occasion.  On some of the tracks there’s a trio of trumpets adding tonal color.  On this tune, however, the trumpet choir sit out.

After a gentle intro, the drums kick things into high gear and Herbie is off to the races, setting a pattern with two choruses in straight-ahead jazz and one as an Afro-Cuban jam.  Johnny Rae tears into his vibes, matching Herbie’s own punchy solo.  The drums then get their time in the spotlight, and it’s back to head, played in double time this time.  It’s an invigorating outing on this jazz classic.

Herbie Mann was one of the first jazz men to focus his talents almost entirely on the flute, and up until 1958 was primarily a bebopper.  After working with Machito and then embarking on a 1960 State Department-sponsored tour of Africa, Herbie became enamored with African music.  When the bossa nova craze hit the U.S. in 1962, he was among the first to record with the creators of the new music.  This is a relatively early but solid example of his ‘giving jazz back to Africa’ music.

The Cover

College Jazz Collector Rating:  C

I mean, it’s cool and all, but what is it?  Sometimes, jazz record art from the mid-50’s up through the 60’s seemed to try a bit too hard to be artsy and hip.  This album cover looks like it was one of those attempts.  Perhaps if the white circle streaks weren’t there it would a bit better, but it’s just working.  I’m not sure what it has to do with the music, either.  Any suggestions?  It almost looks like Verve wasn’t too happy with the artwork either; the artist’s name appears to be cut off, and that’s if you can even read it.  The cover is in relatively great condition, the whites still white, no torn seams, an immaculate and still very readable spine.  And to think I found this record at the store without a protective sleeve.

The Back

They should’ve used that picture of Herbie as the cover art.  Dressed in a black crew-neck sweater that seems to melt into the background and with his facial hair (now THAT was artsy and edgy in the 1950’s and early 60’s), Herbie looks like a stereotypical jazz hipster, one of the ‘beat’ poets then-popular in pop-culture.  It certainly would have made for a more interesting album cover than a bunch of colored dots.

The liner notes, written by legendary jazz writer Leonard Feather, are a wonderful time capsule in that they are written when stereo music was a brand new experience.  The liner notes are almost equally about the music and hi-fi equipment and sound.  A particularly wonderful line explains how the unique instrumentation of the music “…involves a frequency range that will provide high-fidelity-minded listeners with an admirable opportunity to check the responses of their equipment.”  I’m not sure what the ‘5’ on the far bottom-left signifies, although I have a hunch it has something to do with where/who printed the album jacket, similar to Columbia Records.  If anyone knows, comment below!

The Vinyl

An original first pressing in ‘living sound’ stereo, with the pre-1961 Verve ‘Stereophonic’ labels, which by 1961 would’ve been at the tail-end of production.  The lack of deep grooves implies a record press date of at least 1961, and the lack of the little trademark ‘r’ after ‘Verve’ on the label all point to a record made right at the cut-off point between labels.  The runnout has both the record’s numeric code and side (V6-8392-A) and the record’s actual number (3076-1) written by hand.

There’s also a mysterious ‘BH’ followed by five lines, also hand-written.  I’m assuming it’s the initials of the recording engineer, pulling a Rudy Van Gelder-style move and putting his own stamp on the record.  With such a glowing review of the sound by Feather in the liner notes, I suppose I’d want to let everyone know who did the recording and mastering, too.  Unfortunately, the album cover doesn’t tell us who ‘B.H’ is, and a Google search didn’t reveal anything.  It’s a mystery.   I tried to take a picture of it, and after much consternation, managed to get this shot.  I promise, there’s a fifth line in there.

The vinyl itself is in fantastic condition, and plays smoothly and quietly.  The liner notes notwithstanding, this is no 6-eye Columbia, but the sound is good and the fidelity is fantastic.  The stereo is rather spacious, with the flute on far right, the vibes, percussion an bass on far left, with nothing in the middle.  It makes for an interesting aural ride.  I would love to hear what the mono version sounds like.  The engineers were still getting the hang of stereophonic sound, bless their hearts.

The Place of Acquisition

While visiting family in the Bay Area of Northern California, I paid a visit to the famous Amoeba Music Store, specifically their store in San Francisco (there’s two more, one in nearby Berkeley and the other at the other end of the state in Hollywood).  Among the many neat finds I grabbed was this album, with its intriguing cover.  Maybe there’s a method to the art department’s madness after all.  They figured they’d make it so confusingly curious that you’d have to pick it up to investigate.  Maybe I should update my rating…  ‘C’ to a ‘C+’.  It gave me pause, and I checked it out.  The song selection coupled with the instrumentation piqued my interest, and the price of $4.99 piqued my wallet, so homeward bound it went.  Aside from being a seemingly obscure title, this record doesn’t appear to be in particular demand or hard to find.  There’s an eBay listing claiming this is a rare record, with a $25 ‘buy-now’ price-tag.  It’s the most expensive listing on eBay right now.  More power to ’em.

The San Francisco Amoeba is a cool store with a big jazz section and an equally large discount i.e. dollar bin section devoted to jazz.  Naturally, the parking situation is terrible, but it wouldn’t be San Francisco if it wasn’t.

Flute, Brass Vibes and Percussion // Herbie Mann (Verve V6- 8392) Rolling right along with the musical celebration of April, the first full month of spring, here's an interesting album from the late flutist Herbie Mann.