#steel wheels tour

[mycollectionmylife]

Axl Rose e Izzy durante a "Steel Wheels" tour, 1989

[rolloroberson]

The Rolling Stones take a bow for their Clemson, SC Steel Wheels Tour performance on November 26, 1989. I was in attendance with my dear friend Howard. Howard succumbed to cancer 4 years ago. He is an irreplaceable friend and soul.

[thedailymobile]

“Steel Wheels Tour”

[waugh-bao]

Charlie: Actually, I prefer to be on the floor, but then equipment starts moving. It depends on what the floor's made of. Sometimes you're playing with one foot trying to reach a bass drum that keeps slipping away, and that's the hardest thing in the world. The one thing I don't like about drum risers- especially if they get really high like the enormous one Ringo used to play on--when they get that big you can't see everybody else. I don't like that.

Interviewer: It's like being separated.

Charlie: Yeah. I don’t like that.

(Modern Drummer, November 1981)

[sweetpaintedladie]

stones mural at the dive bar i was at for a concert earlier :p

[march-hare01]

The XA Ford Falcon GT was released in March 1972 and ceased production in September 1973, and was the first Falcon GT to be available in a two door coupe. The XA was the first Australian built Falcon not to be based on a American design, and was almost completely designed in Australia. The XA Hardtop became the more preferred option to be used in Australian Touring Car Racing due to it's larger rear wheel arches for wider racing tyres. The XA GT Hardtop went on to achieve back to back wins at Bathurst with Allan Moffat and Ian Geoghegan in the 1973 Hardie-Ferodo 1000, and the 1974 Hardie-Ferodo 1000 with John Goss and Kevin Bartlett.Total produced: 1,868 Sedans and 891 Hardtops.Engine: 5766cc Cleveland V8 with overhead valvesCompression Ratio: 11.0:1Fuel System: Ford Autolite '4300' 605cfm 4 barrel downdraught carburettorPower / Torque: 224kW (300bhp} @ 5400rpm, 513Nm (380Ib-ft} @ 3400rpmTransmission: Four-speed manual, three-speed FMX automaticRear Axle: 9in removable carrier type, Limited Slip 'traction lock' Diff, 28 splineSuspension: Independent with coil springs, telescopic shock absorbers and anti-roll bar (front) Live axle with semi-elliptic springs, telescopic shock absorbers and anti-roll bar (rear)Brakes: Disc front 286mm (11.25in) Drum rear 254mm (10in) power assisted.Wheels:14 x 6 Steel - Argent painted Steel '12 Slot'.Tyres: ER70H14 RadialCurb weight estimated: 1585 kg / 3490 lbsPerformance: 0-100km: 7.2 seconds 0-400 metres: 15.4 seconds (manual sedan)Price when new for a 1973 XA Ford Falcon GT 5.8 Litre 351 V8 automatic two door Coupe: $6,648.00.

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Article Rammstein giving visually impaired fans a special experience

Article from 3voor12vpro.nl Rammstein show in Nijmegen 2024-06-18/19

Googly translated

--

Special tour by guitarist Paul Landers on the stage of the German metal band

june 24, 2024, text: robin hogenboom. photos: jens koch & lonneke prins.

When you think of Rammstein, you think of theatrical shows full of flames and fireworks. But what if you cannot enjoy it optimally due to a visual impairment? The German metal band organizes a guided stage tour for those people, where these fans can feel before the show what the rest of the audience will see later. 3voor12 Gelderland is lucky and can join the tour of June 18 in Nijmegen.

Of course, musically it's all rock solid. Yet the more than 100,000 music lovers who travel to Nijmegen on June 18 and 19 also expect a show that has been taken care of down to the last detail. Cooking pots, flamethrowers, rubber boats and a gigantic penis that squirts foam: it is part of Rammstein's standard repertoire. But what if you have a visual impairment? How do you make a show accessible to people who will experience little or nothing of all those theatrical excesses?

That thought also struck guitarist Paul Landers. “At one point I thought that blind fans couldn't see the stage and so maybe it would be good if they could feel the stage. That is how the first stage tours in 2022 came about.” Since then, fans have been able to register for the tours with a simple email – and a medical certificate. “On average, 4 to 6 people register for the tour, but due to increased safety measures, only 2 groups can participate at a time. Of course, every participant also has a supervisor.”

And safety, that is of course a thing. Paul: “The tour takes place once all preparations and rehearsals have been completed. That is why we take very small groups behind the scenes and extra security is present to guarantee the safety of the visitors.” And it comes as no surprise that parts of the stage also remain closed. Paul: “There are areas that are too unsafe for visitors, for example because pyrotechnics are ready there. These pieces are not part of the tour.”

The tour

When we report to the agreed location, we meet Twan Driessen (21) from Nijmegen, who will participate in the tour with his father as a guide. Although he will experience something that many Rammstein fans would sign up for, he only became a fan of the German band relatively recently. “I'm normally not a metal fan, but 'Deutschland' made me become a fan of Rammstein. That song really stuck.” The song also had an impact on his father: “he really ended up in the Rammstein corner!”

We walk past the dressing rooms and end up behind the characteristic stage. There we meet Paul Landers, who quickly takes Twan through some highlights. Paul places Twan's hands on a gigantic steel tube that holds the stage upright. The colossus, 60 meters wide and 35 meters high, weighs about 1,350 tons and is transported through Europe by 90 trucks, says Paul. “And we have two. The other is already in Dublin.”

Schedule

And then we enter the actual stage. Just below Christoph Schneider's drum kit, Twan is allowed to experience some attributes that are already ready for the show. For example, he receives an explanation about a flamethrower and the cooking pot from 'Mein Teil', but also the pram that will be rolled onto the stage for 'Puppe'. Although, roles? Paul: “The ceiling under the stage is very low, so the wheels don't fit under it yet. They are added at the last minute.”

The more you think about it, the more special it actually becomes. About an hour and a half before the start of the show, which is known for how tightly organized it is, Paul takes the time to explain everything about the show to Twan. And the pleasure with which he provides the tour is admirable. Only the supervision of a few crew members reveals that the organization is more involved than the guitarist lets us experience.

Paul dismisses the fact that it has an impact on his own planning: “it must be well timed between the arrival of the audience and the start of the show. I have to be there on time, but it's all worth it to me. I really enjoy doing the tours for the visually impaired.” What do you find most special about the tours? “Every tour is different. Sometimes people are moved to tears. People who have poor or no vision often have a sensitive and reserved character. I love it when I can make those people happy!”

The stage

Finally, the hydraulic lift that leads to the actual stage lowers. As the field slowly fills up, Twan gets the opportunity to feel the floor of the stage. And the type of flooring comes in very handy today. Paul: “This material is normally used on oil platforms, so that you do not slip when it is wet. It's sharp and hard, so you'll need thick shoes to stand on it for the entire show. And if you trip and fall on your knee, it will hurt you for a while!”

After a photo moment with Paul we are escorted back to the field. Twan: “When I was selected for that blind tour, I already had the feeling that something special could happen. And then the guitarist comes to do the tour! It's almost surreal that you can just chat with someone so big and famous. That someone from the band takes you along and takes the time for you. I think that is really special and exceeds my expectations!”

The show

Then of course it's time for the show. Although the weather is anything but good, the atmosphere is exceptionally good. Of course, the show is phenomenal again, just like two years ago . The differences with that show can be counted on one hand. 'Armee der Tristen', 'Zick Zack', 'Zeig Dich' and 'Heirate Mich' have made way for 'Ramm4', 'Keine Lust', 'Asche zu Asche' and 'Wiener Blut' respectively, with the latter in particular having a considerable intense addition to an already impressive show. The men play very tight and don't really loosen the reins anywhere. You would almost forget that the band is celebrating their thirtieth anniversary this year.

Twan: “I thought they played well live, full of energy. The singing was also good and it was really heavy at times. 'Puppe' and 'Adieu' at the end were impressive!” But: did the tour have any influence on Twan's concert experience? “I liked getting an insight into what that stage looks like, with the flamethrowers and the cooking pot. When you feel the stage and how big it all is, that is impressive and that also gives a better idea of ​​what you get on such an evening.”

The last word goes to Twan: “compliments to Paul Landers and the management of Rammstein. They did a really good job: the service, the reception, everything. Well organised!”

We would like to thank Greenhouse Talent, the management of Rammstein and in particular Paul Landers and Twan Driessen for their cooperation in this article!

[outlawruben]

RIP Van Der Linde gang 😔 you would’ve loved:

Abigail Marston - Marriage counseling, Stanley Cups, The Barbie Movie

Arthur Morgan - Slim Jim’s, Bass Pro Shops pyramid, Levi’s wooly Jean Jackets

Bill Williamson - Grindr, Shitty Gas Stations, “Don’t Tread On Me” flags

Charles Smith - Mitski, microwaved popcorn and movie nights, Bison as a protected species

Dutch Van Der Linde - Backseat Driving, Political Debate Podcasts, fruit flavored vapes

Hosea Matthews - Keurig Coffee Machines, chiropractors , Candy Crush

Jack Marston (depending on age) - Warrior Cats, Percy Jackson, Disney +

Javier Escuella - Electric Guitars, Cards Against Humanity, The Oscars/Grammys/Golden Globes

John Marston - 3 in one soap, Ford Truck Of the Month, band T-shirts

Josiah Trelawney - Magician Kits, Amazon, America’s Got Talent

Karen Jones - White Claws, Dolly Parton, Brittany Broski

Kieran Duffy - Star Stables Online, NASA space pictures, JellyCat Plushies

Lenny Summers - Kindle tablets, Soundproof headphones, Barnes and Noble

Leopold Strauss - Cashapp/Venmo, Facebook, Wikipedia

Mary-Beth Gaskill - thrift shopping, fanfiction websites, Taylor Swift’s Eras tour

Micah Bell - Ben Shapiro, Alpha Males, Playing Devil’s Advocate

Molly O’Shea - Steel Magnolias, Weighted Blankets, Themed Calendars

Rev, Orville Swanson - Bible study, AA meetings, Sacramental Wine

Sadie Adler - WLW music, Matching tattoos, Gym Membership

Sean MacGuire - Totino’s pizza rolls, Good Mythical Morning, Sugary Cereal (Lucky Charms /j)

Simon Pearson - Hell’s Kitchen, Panini press/waffle iron, Walmart Superstore

Susan Grimshaw -Life 360, Boxed Wine, Cats

Tilly Jackson - Mani-Pedis, Shea Butter Scrubs, Micellar Water

Uncle - Wheel Of Fortune, Recliners, Car seat heaters

[sundasystems]

4. The Cabin in the Grove

Eden Springs is aptly named.

Just outside of town is a small overlook where you can pull your car off the road and get a good look at the place from above. You can even almost see the Sunda campus poking up from behind the far hill. It's beautiful. I have no problem seeing why anyone would want to live here. More mysterious, however, is why a massive multi-national conglomerate like Sunda would choose a place like this for their headquarters. Ninety minutes from any airport. No major interstate access. It's not especially inaccessible, but it's not easy either.

As I drive through down I see smiling faces and hear light laughter coming out of the various storefronts. Some preliminary research showed that, while the majority of residents here work for Sunda, there is also a thriving small-business culture in the down town. That appears to be true. I pass a movie theatre and a general store. There's even a French bistro! Le Jus... something? I make a note to go back.

I find it oddly peaceful here. I could live here. I could move here and feel like I'd never have another care in the world. I wave at someone on the sidewalk who waves at me. I return their smiles. My left hand drops into my lap and I sigh softly.

I slip out of the city limits on the other side of the main drag and I see the first sign that reminds me why I'm really here.

Sunda Systems Eden Springs Campus 1.5 miles

I put both hands back on the steering wheel and rezip the fly of my jeans.

The drive here is deceptive. As soon as you leave town it feels like you've driven back into the wilderness. For a few moments, there's only mountains and trees. Then you round the corner and its like driving into the world of tomorrow. Several tall white buildings shoot up from the ground surrounded by an army of smaller buildings. There are parking lots everywhere, but most sit empty, and I remember seeing a sign in town for the Sunda Shuttle.

I park in a spot marked for visitors and take a deep breath. I remind myself that no one here knows who I am or what I want. I'm just a tech nerd here for a tour of the facility. This is one of the only places around where a fair number of cars are parked. So I won't be the only person who doesn't "belong" here. I open my car door and begin to walk toward the visitor entrance.

I'm greeted inside by warm smiles and "Welcome to Sunda Systems!" There's a sign that says the next tour of the campus leaves in 15 minutes. I'm left to stand in a group of other people who are waiting. They look largely like you'd expect them to look: mostly men, mostly in their mid to late 20's, mostly stereotypically nerdy. Not that I'm one to judge. I've never been one to be considered a heart-throb. That was always more Emily's job.

One of them approached me and says hello. We chatted briefly about what brought us here to take the tour and what we were hoping to see. He seemed harmless enough. Eventually, a guide emerged from behind a counter and greets us all. He was a skinny, nerdy looking guy. He introduced himself as Glen before handing out a campus map and beginning the tour.

We weren't allowed up in to the offices in either building that flanked the main entry foyer. Instead, the tour guide led us out the back into the campus commons. It really was a beautiful place.

We first entered through the Laser and Optics Research building. We were shown an admittedly very cool demonstration of a high power laser cutting straight through a steel beam. I tried to keep myself from being impressed and remind myself why I was here, but it was hard not to get sucked into the presentation and the results. Cutting edge (pun intended).

Then across the courtyard we entered the Crystallography lab. The entrance hall here was lined with minerals and gemstones on display. We didn't get to see much here. The guide led us into a dark room with a single display case. Inside was the largest sapphire I've ever seen. The lights in the room seem to dance on its surface and somehow inside it's depths. And what depths it has! Deep blue and flecks of violet that seem to shimmer and move as it rotates on its turntable so slowly... and lazily...

I don't know why I didn't think to try to take a photo of it. I guess I was just very distracted.

Walking out into the sun after being in that dark room was disorienting. My head felt a little strange for a few minutes afterward, but the tour continued and I got over it. As we entered the audio labs I was feeling quite good again. Almost eager to continue. Music thrummed constantly here. The guide told us it was in an attempt to drown out the sound-based experimentations going on inside the facility. They tried their best to soundproof the rooms, but some sound still bled out into the main building. We should do our best to ignore it.

For some reason, the whole group managed to say "Yes, Glen" at the same time, which made us all chuckle for a few minutes. This was a good group.

Finally, we arrived at the section of the tour I'd been waiting for. The living quarters. Unfortunately, Glen didn't take us very close. He pointed out the Education Center and the Hall of Worship, but said they were closed to visitors. Further back was the cabins, where some staff had decided to live "on-site." Staff like John Delphine, former COO of Lotus Clinical Research.

The tour group began to head back toward the main entrance. Part of me wanted to follow. To be a part of Glen's group and be led around. But Emily was counting on me. So with great effort, I pulled myself out of the group and stepped behind a small statue as they rounded a corner. Just like that, I was free.

I knew I'd have to be quick. I didn't have an employee ID that I'd seen on people around so I may not have much time to explore away from the group. That being said, I couldn't sneak in broad daylight. So I put on my best "I belong here" face and strolled back toward the living area.

In the courtyard there was a bulletin board of notices for the residents. Three in particular caught my attention.

One:

Renew your Vows and sing Vivian's Gospel House of Worship each Sunday at sundown

Two:

Seeking resident beta-testers for the new Mirrorball Program. Must not have been exposed to any previous optical inductions. Inquire at Office LOR 4-19.

Three:

New Radio Sunda available through Re:Mx. Enter code S2R0-F885-GG78 into the code stream to gain access.

This last one had tabs at the bottom with the access code on them like old flyers you'd find in the city. I tore one off and pocketed it to test out later.

I moved deeper into the campus toward the trees and the cabins. There were many more cars in the lots back here. Presumably the vehicles of the residents that don't have to drive from town.

A man looking like a security guard was approaching from the cabins. I decided to cut and run before I could get caught. I stashed my camera as I walked back toward the research area of the campus and managed to slide back into the tour group as they came back out of radio building.

Many of them had happy - if slightly vapid - smiles on their faces as they listened to Glen speaking. It didn't seem like any of them had noticed I had snuck away. It wasn't really clear if they'd noticed anything except Glen that whole time. Though, I could hardly blame them. He was pretty cute. A flush ran through me, and I cleared my throat softly as we finished the tour.

But before I could leave, Glen approached me. I thought he was going to scold me for sneaking off, but I was very wrong. He asked if I was in town for long and if I'd like to get dinner with him that evening. I think my entire body turned red. It was an ethical violation to go on a date with the subject of an investigation. But it would be a good way to get some inside information.

And he was very, very attractive.

[msboookesh]

Echoes in farewell - lc

Pairing: idol!dino x gn!reader

Genre: gut-wrenching angst, exes, hurtful breakup, longing

Synopsis: Amid a glamorous event celebrating achievements, a chance encounter with your ex, Lee Chan, reveals a more mature and polished version of him, igniting a wave of nostalgia and unspoken regrets as old wounds are reopened over drinks and bittersweet conversation.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🍨

The grand hall buzzed with energy, filled with the clinking of glasses and muted conversations. A grand event celebrating the achievements of various celebrities, the venue was a kaleidoscope of flashing cameras, elegant gowns, and sharp tuxedos. Yet, amidst the glamour and applause, you felt a wave of nostalgia and unease wash over you.

You had come here to support a friend who had recently won a prestigious award. The night was supposed to be a celebration, but your thoughts were consumed by one person—Lee Chan. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since the end of your disruptive relationship.

As you navigated through the crowd, you saw him. He stood by the bar, engaged in conversation with a few other guests. Chan looked different. More mature, more polished, yet undeniably handsome. His tailored suit accentuated his lean frame, and the confident air around him was a stark contrast to the boyish charm you remembered.

He seemed more knowledgeable about the world now, his conversations marked by a depth that hadn’t been there before. Your heart ached as you watched him, a thousand questions swirling in your mind. Did he still have trouble sleeping, struggling to find rest after nights out drinking with the members? Did he still need someone to wake him up after those long, reckless evenings? Did he still separate cucumbers from his meals, grumbling under his breath as if they were the greatest inconvenience?

You found yourself wanting to know if he missed you as much as you missed him. But as you tried to steel yourself, every longing stare you cast in his direction only deepened the pit of pain in your chest.

Suddenly, his eyes met yours. Chan’s expression shifted from casual interest to something more complex—surprise, recognition, and a hint of something softer. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, processing the sight of you after all this time.

"Hey," you heard him say as he approached, his voice carrying a mixture of warmth and hesitation. "It’s been a while."

“Yeah, it has.” You managed to reply, trying to keep your voice steady. The casualness of the conversation felt almost surreal, like a façade hiding the stream of emotions.

He studied you closely, his gaze lingering on your face. “You look… different. Better, though. More at ease.”

You forced a smile, though it felt tight and unnatural. “Thanks. And you, you look good too.”

“Still adjusting to this new phase of life, I guess,” Chan said, his tone light but carrying a note of sincerity. “Life’s been… a ride.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words press down on you. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

There was a brief silence between you, charged with unspoken words and old memories. Chan’s eyes never left yours, and you felt a surge of longing rise within you. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. But every time you considered speaking, the old fears and mistakes held you back.

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Chan asked, breaking the silence.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

The two of you moved to a quieter corner of the venue, away from the throngs of people. The atmosphere here was more intimate, and the noise seemed to fade into the background as you sat across from each other.

Chan took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. “How have you been? What’s new with you?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions swirling inside you. “I’ve been… doing alright. Busy with work, as usual. Touring then some acting gigs at the side.”

“That’s good,” Chan said, nodding. “You always were driven. It’s adoring actually.”

There was a pause as you both contemplated what to say next. The easy banter you used to share now felt distant, replaced by the weight of what you’d been through together.

“So,” Chan said after a moment, “I’ve been meaning to ask… how are you? Really?”

The sincerity in his voice cut through the tension.

You looked down at your drink, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I’m… trying to move on. It’s not always easy, but I’m getting there.”

Chan’s expression softened, and for a moment, you saw the old Chan—the one who used to hold you close and share your dreams. “I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’ve thought about us a lot, about the mistakes I made.”

You swallowed hard, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. You wanted to ask if he missed you, if he ever thought about the things you used to share. But the fear of reopening old wounds kept you silent.

Instead, you forced a smile. “It’s in the past now, Chan-ssi. We’ve both moved on.”

Chan’s eyes flickered with sadness, and you could see the struggle within him. “Yeah, I guess we have.”

The conversation shifted to more mundane topics, but the weight of what was unsaid lingered between you. Every glance, every smile felt like a bittersweet reminder of what you once had. Chan’s laughter, though genuine, seemed tinged with a sadness that mirrored your own.

As the evening wore on, the event started to wind down. The crowd thinned, and the music softened to a gentle hum.

Chan stood up, his gaze lingering on you.

“It’s getting late,” he said, his voice carrying a note of reluctance. “I should head out.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of regret. “Yeah, I should probably get going too.”

Chan hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“Sure.” You replied, your heart racing.

“Do you ever think about us? About what we had?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out the pain and longing that had been building up inside you. But instead, you swallowed hard and forced a smile.

“I think about the good times,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But it’s best to let the past stay where it is.”

Chan nodded, a shadow of disappointment crossing his face. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

There was a finality in his words, a sense that the chapter between you was truly closed. As you both moved toward the exit, Chan reached out, gently touching your arm.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, (y/n).” he said softly. “You deserve that.”

You nodded, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “Thank you. I hope you do too.”

Chan’s smile was tinkle with sorrow, and you could see the pain reflected in his eyes. He turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look—a look that spoke of regret, longing, and an ache that neither of you could fully articulate.

As you watched him walk away, the weight of everything you wanted to say pressed down on you. The longing to reach out, to be held in his arms one last time, was almost unbearable. But the fear of repeating the same mistakes held you back.

You swallowed your emotions, forcing yourself to remain composed as you turned to leave. The pain of saying goodbye was sharp and unrelenting, a reminder of the love you once shared and the distance that had grown between you.

[valiantstarlights]

[Tiny Dream AU] Playtime

Hob is working, but Tiny Dream wants attention. He wants to be played with. Look, he even has a sex dungeon ready.

For sandmanniversary2023 Day 1: Collection / Stargazing / Size Kink

I'm honestly still in shock that I've written something like this. The Sandman fandom has changed me as a person. 👀 Anyway, please enjoy, and I hope you all still think well of me after reading this. 🙇‍♀️ (For scientific purposes, here's the AO3 link. 😏)

CW: This is pure unapologetic filth. The main CWs are: soft dom Hob, horny Tiny!Dream having a vulva, sex dungeon and sex toys, size kink, size difference, multiple orgasms, and dirty talk.

Important: A typical Barbie doll is 11.5 inches (29cm) tall. Tiny!Dream is 12 inches (30cm) tall.

"Hob."

"Just a minute, darling," Hob says distractedly. He's currently uploading his students' grades, and it's a task that he has difficulty with (due to the university's crap online grading system), so he is justified in ignoring Dream for just one measly minute.

A truly heart-wrenching sigh sounds from behind him, and Hob, despite himself, turns to look.

Dream's floating doll castle, which had originally been the dollhouse of a New Inn employee's child that they have recently outgrown, is in its usual place in the corner of his study. The black banners are still flying in an unseen wind, the highest tower is still where the rookery is, and Hob can't really tell right now if Dream has changed anything about the exterior, except--

Oh.

That's new.

Usually, the interior of the doll house ("Doll castle," Dream had insisted), shows only a single room: the room where Dream currently is. Hob doesn't quite know how it works, if it rotates, or if it has a bigger-on-the-inside technology like the TARDIS. (Hob doesn't say that to Dream, though, because he has enough daddy issues already.)

Well, the room where Dream is at right now is a room Hob has never seen before.

Oh, he's seen the library, the gardens, and even the swimming pool, but this is the first time he's seeing the sex dungeon.

He wonders if Dream made the room just now, as he often builds and decorates rooms while Hob is working to amuse himself. And after, he would proudly tour Hob around, showing him the changes he made and his latest rooms, like a very lovely Sims youtuber. (Yet another thing that Hob won't say to Dream, in case he gets irrationally jealous, and cause all Sims youtubers to lose inspiration and have nightmares for a year minimum.)

(Hob doesn't think that Dream would actually do that, but he's not willing to risk it.)

"I'm bored," Tiny Dream says imperiously upon a throne-like bondage chair, his feet already on the stirrups. He's only wearing provocative black lingerie that shows off his pretty little tits, and isn't that a treat to see. He gestures to the large array of toys and tools on the stainless steel instrument table placed close to the viewing area, so Hob could easily access them. "Play with me."

Hob licks his lips as his eyes roam over Dream's form. Dream preens and thrusts his chest out some more for inspection. Lovely thing. "Haven't conjured a fucking machine for yourself yet, darling?"

Dream sticks his lower lip out. Not a pout--god forbid, Dream would never admit to doing that--but close. He's so adorable when he's horny. "I prefer when you play with me."

Hob hums and wheels his office chair closer, surveying the little toys and tools. He knows they work just as well as the human-sized ones, and doesn't require batteries to operate. "You know I still have to upload my students' grades, yeah?"

Dream huffs and shoots a glare over Hob's shoulder towards his laptop. Hob hopes he won't set it on fire like he did the last time. "Do they take priority over me?"

Hob smiles at him and pokes him gently on the tummy. The pad of his forefinger almost encompasses half of Dream's stomach area. "You know nothing in this world has priority over you."

Dream raises his chin, and Hob does not miss the little 'hmph!' sound he made, though his cheeks flush with pleasure at Hob's words. "Then prove it."

"Taunting me?" Hob asks, and gently caresses Dream's cheek. "That's not very nice." He picks up the little handcuffs from the instrument table and shows them to Dream. "Color?"

Dream sighs, impatient to begin as always, but answers dutifully. "Green."

Hob makes a kissy sound because he cannot possibly give Dream a kiss on the lips right now, and snaps the handcuffs around Dream's wrists before fastening the chain on the hook above the chair. "All good?"

Dream nods. "Yes."

Hob then adjusts the stirrups so Dream's cute little butt is exposed even more. He spies the tell-tale wetness dripping from Dream's pussy and hole, and tsks. "What a mess you're already making, darling. So wet for me and we haven't even begun."

Dream squirms but does not close his legs. "It's not my fault you made me wait."

"For a few seconds?" Hob asks incredulously. "No, I don't think that would do. I think good boys need to learn how to wait." He picks up a couple of vibrating dildos from the instrument table and flicks their switches. They turn on and buzz against his fingers. "How many times do you think you'll cum with these while I finish my task?"

Dream whines. "Hob, please--"

"How many, Dream?"

"I don't--"

"You don't know? Poor baby," Hob coos. "Shall we find out? Will you count for me?"

Dream squirms a little, but nods bravely, and Hob could hear a tiny squelching sound against the seat. Adorable. He's going to have the chair covered in his slick by the time Hob is done with him.

--

Hob...does his best to upload his students' grades correctly, and in doing so takes longer than he usually would have, as he keeps getting distracted with the sound of Dream orgasming again and again behind him, and him actively listening for Dream saying his safeword. He feels like he's taking ages.

By the time the task is finally done though, he is rock hard inside his trousers, and he has counted a grand total of 37 orgasms. And not once had Dream uttered his safeword or, in his overwhelmed state, changed back to human-sized Dream.

And when Hob finally shut his laptop down and looks behind him--

"Oh, my love."

Dream looks wrecked. He is a drooling, teary-eyed mess, weakly fucking himself on his toys that Hob had made sure would not slip out of him with a couple of harnesses. His holes look beautiful around the toys, puffy and swollen and lovely pink in color. Were it not for the harnesses, the dildos would have slipped out completely. As it was, they remained buried deep inside Dream, and possibly reaching deeper inside him as time went on and he got looser.

And the chair Dream is sitting on? Entirely drenched in slick and cum. A section of the dungeon floor near the chair is even wet. Dream must have orgasmed so hard he squirted. Perhaps multiple times.

Hob bites his lip and touches himself through his trousers, just watching Dream for a few seconds more, as he moans weakly and squeezes around his toys, though he shudders and releases more slick when he turns his head a little and sees Hob's attention is now focused entirely on him.

Beautiful thing. Hob has never seen anything quite so exquisite. Hob unbuckles his belt and undresses, taking his time with it and watching Dream ride his toys a little harder when Hob's cock is revealed, already thick and coated in precome.

Hob smirks. Too bad that's currently not for Dream to play with today, no matter how much he begs.

"Okay, love?"

Dream shudders at the sound of his voice and nods, moaning Hob's name weakly. But he says something else too, though it was too low for Hob to catch.

"What was that, lovely?"

"Thir-thirty seven," Dream says, staring into Hob's eyes lovingly. "I counted. You told me to count a-and I did."

Oh, Hob's chest is bursting with pride. He turns off the toys, ignoring Dream's whine, and reaches for the rope on one side of the room to ring the castle's dumbwaiter for some water.

Because of course Dream's doll castle has a dumbwaiter in every room.

The water arrives immediately, and Hob carefully maneuvers the small pitcher to pour water over an equally small glass, puts the straw in, and holds the glass in front of Dream's face.

Dream drinks the water dutifully. Hob makes him drink until the pitcher is empty, then returns the serving tray to the dumbwaiter to send it back to be magically cleaned.

"Color?"

"Green," Dream says.

Hob strokes his cock and holds his precome-covered thumb in front of Dream's face.

Dream immediately leans forward and starts licking the surface like a cat. When he is done and has placed a kiss on the pad of Hob's thumb, Hob withdraws his hand and just gazes at him with love and pride both.

The toys are still inside Dream, but they seem like an afterthought to him at the moment, more focused is he on angling his body to better show himself off to Hob's loving eyes.

"My good boy," Hob murmurs, and gently unclasps the harnesses and even more gently pulls the dildos out of Dream's body. Dream mewls at the action, his tiny little pussy and hole twitching cutely even as they gaped for a second when the toys are removed. Hob caresses his long pale legs softly with a forefinger. "Oh, my sweet, obedient little boy. You did so well for me."

Dream sobs as his legs tremble at Hob's words and his touch. "Want you."

"And you will have me," Hob promises him. "But later. When you're back to human-sized. Now, I know you've been gagging to have the double-ended dildo inside both your holes while you're in this form, and I think you deserve--"

"No," Dream shakes his head. "I want..." He falters for a moment, shy, and Hob urges him on with soft comforting sounds. If he can provide whatever it was, then Dream will have it. "I want your thumb."

Hob's forefinger, currently rubbing Dream's left leg up and down, freezes in place. "Darling--"

Dream whines. "I'm loose enough," he says. "I can take it. I made sure I could."

Hob looks towards the dildos he set aside doubtfully. They weren't big enough to prepare either of Dream's holes for his thumb.

And then it hit him.

"You changed the toys' size while I had my back turned."

Now Dream pouts. "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention to me."

Hob could not help but grin at that sign of disobedience. It seems like Dream still has some brattiness left to fuck out of him.

"Well," Hob says generously, and resumes rubbing Dream's leg with his forefinger, "now that you have my full attention, let's see how well you stretch for me, hmm?"

Dream looks up hopefully. "You'll give me your thumb?"

Hob chuckles. "I don't think so, naughty boy. I'm afraid that's a treat for the truly well-behaved boys. And while you had been good counting your orgasms for me, and you did tell me how you got yourself stretched so beautifully, you also did not follow my instruction to the letter. And we did talk about safewords and shapeshifting in general before we did this play, yes?"

Dream nods, but now he looks miserable, probably thinking that Hob isn't going to give him any reward at all.

Hob is not that cruel. And especially not to Dream, whom he loves most in the world. "Oh, darling." Hob carefully wipes a tear from Dream's cheek. "I will give you a reward. Just not my thumb right now."

"The double-ended dildo then, please," Dream says, politely now. "And I won't change its size or...or be naughty again."

Hob rubs his forefinger on Dream's head in a patting motion. "Good boy. But I was thinking if maybe you would like to have something else instead."

Dream tilts his head curiously. "What do you suggest?"

Hob rubs Dream's arms to check if he's still okay, and Dream nods once. "What about my pinky?"

Hob immediately feels Dream's entire body perking up at that, and hurries to add, "Not entirely inside, of course, but...well, just the tip."

--

Dream is having the time of his life as Hob (very carefully) fucks him with the very tip of his liberally lubed pinky. He's holding on to the connecting chain of his cuffs for dear life, and his legs had all but wrapped themselves around Hob's wrist, toes curling and entire body rocking with Hob's thrusts.

"Hob, oh, please--your pinky is stretching me so good--" Dream's head is tilted backwards, and Hob could bet that his eyes are rolling up his head as well. "More. More, please. Fill me. Fill me, I need it--"

Hob makes gentle shushing noises but continues to give Dream what he wants. "Look at your pretty little pussy, darling, slicking my finger even further and looking so tempting. And your tiny hole gaping so wonderfully wide. Do you really think you can take my thumb someday?"

Dream sobs. "I can take it now. Please! I promise, I promise, I can take it--"

"I said no, darling," Hob says sternly, though Dream just whines at the sound of his strict voice and more slick gushes out of him. "Now, are you just about to cum?"

Dream nods wildly. Orgasm number 40 is far behind them, and frankly, Hob doesn't know what number they're on right now. "Alright, baby. One last orgasm out of you, and then I'll give you some lovely aftercare."

Warning issued, Hob fucks him harder, and Dream wails as almost a quarter of Hob's pinky breaches him. "Feels good?" Hob asks, an idea forming in his head. When Dream does not answer verbally and just nods, Hob knows that he's about to squirt at any time.

He stills his pinky while the tip is still inside and, before Dream could cry in protest and curse his balls to shrivel up, Hob has leaned forward and thrust just the very tip of his warm tongue inside Dream's slutty little cunt while his pinky resumes thrusting in and out of Dream's loose hole. Dream's legs tighten around his wrist in shock, and when Hob flicks his tongue just the tiniest amount, making contact with Dream's swollen clit--

Dream shrieks and his thighs tremble, his pussy squirting all over Hob's tongue, with Hob immediately lapping up his juices, moaning all the while, his own cock drooling precome on the floor at Dream's taste.

When he surfaces, Dream is limp, body twitching intermittently, but his legs remained tight around Hob's wrist, and he smiles when he meets Hob's gaze. "Do I taste good?"

Hob licks his lips and gently arranges Dream's legs back on the stirrups, then uncuffs Dream's wrists, massaging his arms and carefully laying him down on the seat. "Always, darling," Hob tells him. "You know you always taste so fucking delicious, even when you're tiny."

Dream moans and licks his lips. "Want to taste you as well," he slurs out. "Cum on me. I want to finger myself with your cum all over me."

Hob curses. "Darling--"

"Please," Dream says. "Just one more. Just need to see you play with yourself too. Show me that I can make you feel good, too."

Hob is helpless to resist. Dream is looking up with him with literal heart eyes, and he has even waved away his lingerie, leaving him entirely naked. He really wants to be covered in cum from head to toe.

Hob stands and starts pumping himself, looking at Dream spreading his legs wide, wet gaping holes on display, and even--

"Fuck."

"Yes?" Dream asks innocently even as he places his palms on his asscheeks to open himself up further, to make sure he catches Hob's seed inside both his holes.

The final straw is Dream opening his mouth, tongue out, waiting so very patiently for Hob to shower him with cum.

Hob groans and aims as best he could, stroking once, twice, thrice, his cum landing on Dream's chin area and filling his mouth but not his nose, his flat abdomen, his long, pale legs, and yes, the greatest amount right at his spread open holes.

Dream moans throatily as he gets covered. "So warm," he mumbles, sounding cumdrunk and totally out of it. "You came so much."

Hob wrings the last drops over Dream's waiting mouth, which has already swallowed his earlier shot. Dream receives it gratefully and even cheekily leans upward to lick at the head of Hob's cock. Hob shouldn't even feel the tiny tongue, but the smallest pressure of it has him shivering, and another dollop of cum is wrung out of him. "Fuck, Dream, you absolute minx--"

Dream rubs the cum on his abdomen over his breasts, squeezing his tits together and pinching his nipples. "We should've used the nipple clamps."

"Next time," Hob promises breathlessly. "And I'll attach vibrators to them, too."

Dream shudders at that image and his hands fly to his holes, one hand fingering his pussy, and the other one fingering his hole, getting a copious amount of Hob's cum inside him.

"Fuck," Hob says, enthralled at the slutty display. He wishes he could have filmed their session.

"Tell me," Dream says. "Tell me what you want to do to me next time."

His insatiable little boyfriend. Just one more he says, but at this rate, and if Hob doesn't put his foot down and get him some more water and provide him aftercare, they're going to be at this all night.

"If you're good," Hob begins, "I'll let you play with my cock all afternoon. I know it's almost as big as you, darling, so don't even think about putting me inside you, but you can worship me as you like; lick me or rub your cute tits on me--"

"I'm going to sit at the tip," Dream tells him, still fingering himself and getting more worked up as he speaks. "Right where your slit is. And I'm going to grind on you until your precome drenches my entire lower body. Until you cum right into my holes. I'm going to wrap my legs around you and make sure all your tasty cum is deposited inside me I could taste it on the back of my throat."

Hob groans at that and his cock twitches at the image. "Dream--"

"Tell me," Dream pleads, and Hob realizes that the rhythm of Dream's fingers are becoming erratic.

Hob smiles down at him and runs his forefinger up and down Dream's cum-slick torso. Dream mewls at the contact and thrusts his fingers faster. "I didn't think tiny you would be so much sluttier than human-sized you, but here you are, proving me wrong. How can my good boy be such a whore? Always wanting my cum all over him and pushing it deep inside his holes? What are you trying to achieve here, baby? Are you trying to get my seed to take? Is that it? You want to be round and pregnant when we do this next time? Lactating from your pert little breasts while you squirt all over yourself on my tongue? On my thumb?"

Dream wails, high and helpless, as Hob's words and his accompanying daydreams make him cum once more, his own fingers deep inside himself, while Hob gently massages his breasts with his fore and middle fingers, rubbing his cute little nipples.

Hob watches him raptly, his beautiful, ridiculously sexy boyfriend, and waits until he stops cumming, murmuring soft words all the while and helping him down from his high.

As he's waiting, he rings the dumbwaiter for some more water, and once again carefully handles the tiny pitcher and the glass that came with it.

"Here, darling," Hob says when Dream's orgasm tapers off, leaving him limp and lying on the seat, totally drained. "Have some more water."

Dream gratefully sips from the straw, and Hob once again gets him to drink until the entire pitcher is empty.

Once it is, and once Hob has set the tray back inside the dumbwaiter, he turns his entire focus on Dream, who is still absently scooping more of Hob's cum inside his holes.

"Feel better?" Hob asks him, rubbing at his legs and calves in between his forefinger and thumb.

Dream hums, still idly fingering himself. "Yes, thank you."

"Feeling adequately played with?"

Now Dream smirks up at him and squeezes his holes, making Hob's cum drip from them. Hob groans and looks away so he wouldn't be tempted to lick Dream all over. Like the little minx is probably wanting. "Yes, Hob. Thank you for playing with me."

Hob snorts at that and shakes his head. "Alright, enough of that, you ridiculous thing. Time to bathe, and then you're gonna turn human-sized for some proper cuddling."

Dream hums and allows Hob to lift him from the seat carefully with his hands, then scoops his entire body up with a single hand. Dream waves his hand so the doll castle's sex dungeon is replaced with the master bathroom, and he waits patiently as Hob fiddles with the giant bathtub with one hand and it fills with warm fragrant water.

"I love you," Dream says, still sitting on the palm of Hob's hand and playing with his fingers. "Thank you for indulging me today."

Hob leans down to kiss the top of Dream's head. "Of course, darling. Anything you need."

[diabolus1exmachina]

Alfa Romeo Disco Volante by Touring Superleggera 

The Disco Volante is a two-seater Gran Turismo. It is based on the Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione coupé with its front-central mounted 4.7 litre V8 engine and a transaxle rear drive with unmodified specifications. Each unit, of which the construction requires 4,000 hours of manual work.The present Disco Volante celebrates the myth of the 1952 style icon. The new design briefing required to blend ingredients as innovation, emotion and aerodynamic properties into a timeless and essential shape.During the development stage, Head of Design Louis de Fabribeckers and his team cooperated with the engineers on an almost daily basis. “We focused on the preservation of the design essence. – says de Fabribeckers – Once the design frozen, we had to understand the manufacturing problems and solve them right away without compromising the design.”In consistency with the car’s design philosophy the interior has a ‘science fiction’ feel to it. Part of this ‘spaceship’ atmosphere was created by elements like the red LED interior light profiles. Also, aeronautics has been the inspiration for parts like the dashboard, instruments and seat adjustment lever.The Alfa Romeo 8C Competizione chassis was chosen for its light and rigid structure and its outstanding dynamic properties. Therefore it forms the perfect basis for the coach-built bodywork of the Disco Volante, integrally conserving the rolling chassis and drive train.The Alfa Romeo 8C’s steel space-frame and other structural elements were retained to guarantee torsion stiffness, high performance and the quality standard. The frame members and the central carbon cell remained unchanged. Elements of the underpinning and the body, such as the engine bay and firewall, the windscreen and cowl, the a-pillar and the locks and hinges have been retained too, just as the dashboard and instruments, the pedals and the steering wheel. Parts like doorframes, the roof frame and the c-pillar have been modified to match with the new shape.The layout of a front-central mounted engine, a transaxle transmission and rear-wheel drive offers an optimal weight distribution of 49-51% between the front and rear axles. To ensure excellent handling the front and rear double-wishbone suspension scheme is combined with hub carriers of forged aluminium and additional trailing arms for the rear suspension.The lightweight and compact 4.7 litre V8 engine delivers 450HP and 480Nm peak torque. It is coupled with a six-speed sequential transaxle gearbox with electronic control and paddle-shift gear selection. Together with a limited-slip differential and a state-of-the-art braking system with large diameter, ventilated discs a precise, dynamic and proactive drive is ensured. The Disco Volante can accelerate from 0 to 100 km/h (0-62 mph) in 4,2 seconds and has a top speed of about 290 km/h (181 mph).

All new and modified components of the Disco Volante have been CAD designed. In this process, which covers feasibility, safety, homologation, aerodynamics and structural analysis, the most advanced IT tools and simulation techniques have been used.

Since torsion stiffness and noise reduction are of critical importance, special attention has been paid to the under-body structure and its elements, like the tubular frames supporting the rear wings and bumper, and the roll bar joining the c-pillars. Other complex design issues were the tailgate hinges, the 3d-cambered door window, and the front wheel covers.

The Disco Volante was then submitted to a CFD aerodynamic study to enhance the airflow and ensure optimal downforce in the rear section. After that, FEM calculations were run to assess resistance and rigidity of all parts subject to homologation.

Touring Superleggera is synonymous with the manufacture of lightweight bodywork. The weight advantage of aluminium is one of the assets of Touring Superleggera’s construction methods. Nowadays however, the craft of hand-beating aluminium panels is combined with the use of carbon fibre reinforced plastic (CFRP). For the Disco Volante, Touring decided to use this combination of aluminium and CFRP. This has been the result of a study conducted to define optimal use of materials for the bodywork in terms of weight, resistance, precision, finish and quality, and ease of repair in case of damage.

The CFRP is used for specific components like the front bumper and grille, the bonnet, the skirts, the boot lid and the integrated rear-window frame. The bonnet and the boot lid are sandwich-built with Nomex filler in-between to obtain a better stiffness/weight ratio and to dampen vibration and noise.

The aluminium panels are hand-beaten using an epoxy mould. Since the inner frames of most parts of the bodywork are made of CFRP, this requires gluing of aluminium on carbon fibre. This technique adds to the rigidity as the glue has structural properties.

The body panels are pre-assembled on a laser measurement platform using a jig. This ensures that the strict tolerance required is respected. After adjustment, the panels are either welded or glued. The body-in-white is then used to preassemble and fit all trim components, brightware and moulding.

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Look Alike Part 5

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4 

Sooo, are you going to show me what you do here?” 

Civilian stared up at Villain. Was he serious? But as he stood before her, rocking back and forth on his heels as he took in the room for what felt like the first time, that Civilian realized he was serious. 

“I uh…” 

Before she could come up with a response, Villain’s gaze caught on the mound of wet clay she’d abandoned on the pottery wheel, and his shoulders and his hopeful expression dropped as he took a step back. “I’m sorry- I interrupted…”

Suddenly the thought of being alone while she yet again attempted to throw the perfect pot sounded intolerably lonely. “It’s fine!” she blurted. “I was just going to practice for my ceramics class. I can just clean it up and show you around.” 

Villain shook his head. “It’s fine; you have work to do and I …” He hesitated, all of the suave confidence from early disappearing as he tucked his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “Maybe I could stay while you worked? See what you do?” 

Oh that was much worse than giving him a tour of the kilns. Civilian’s insides twisted at the thought of having an audience for what would mostly likely be an unsuccessful evening, if the last two weeks were anything to judge by. 

She should definitely say no. She’d never performed well under pressure. It always made her chest tighten and her hands tremble. 

Not the greatest conditions for delicate ceramic work. 

But the beautiful apology bouquet on the table reminded her why he’d come here, and all he’d done trying to make it up to her. Maybe she could just show him around a little and he’d forget about watching her work. 

So Civilian smiled. “That’s ok, I can work on it later. Let me show you around.” She held her breath until Villain smiled back. 

“If you’re sure.” 

Normally she would have started with the pottery wheels, explaining how the clay was shaped into the pots and bowls and all manner of things. But she didn’t want to remind him he was keeping her from work, so she instead led him to the tables and chairs where customers could glaze their chosen items. 

“So did you make any of these?” 

“No!” Civilian snorted as Villain wandered towards the shelves that carried a variety of pre-made ceramics for customers to glaze. “Those are all made in molds. Most of our business comes from people who just want to glaze something that’s already made. Making your own pottery can be difficult.” 

Villain nodded as he stepped up to a shelf containing a variety of ceramic animals and picked up a palm-sized statue of a goat. “That makes sense. The real question is who would pick something like this.” He gestured to the shelf of various bowls and mugs. “Those at least have a function.” 

She shrugged. “We stock the animals for the kids. Although the adults choose them just as often. Especially the college students.” 

Villain grimaced as he eyed the goat. “That’s ridiculous.” 

Civilian stepped closer, plucking the goat from his hand and holding it up to eye level. “Awwww but it’s so cute!!” 

A tiny smile cracked through Villain’s critical veneer, and Civilian wanted to cheer. 

“Can you imagine this on my desk?” 

Civilian mentally placed a brightly colored goat like the one that four year old had glazed last week on a desk of dark mahogany, the statue comical against neatly organized files and papers. 

“What do you do for work?” The question was out of her mouth before she realized what she’d said. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t—”  

The imaginary desk was replaced with the visceral memory of a blacked out van, a dark room. 

When her mind returned to the pottery shop, the guilt on Villain’s face told her he knew exactly where her thoughts had gone. Before he could apologize, again, she looked around for something to distract him. The solution was so simple, yet not easy at all. 

Steeling herself, Civilian gestured to the row of pottery wheels. “We also offer weekly classes for those who want to try their hand at making their own pottery. I can show you how it works, if you’d like?” 

It seemed like an eternity of waiting, and she wondered if he was still going to try apologizing. 

But then Villain nodded, and soon enough he had pulled a stool up near her wheel and was watching intently as she began to center her clay. 

“So what are you doing now?” 

Civilian began explaining about the process: the throwing, the centering, the shaping. Villain’s arms rested on his knees as he leaned forward, nodding at each step of her explanation. When her pot went careering off center, Civilian flushed, ready to be embarrassed until Villain’s eager expression made her heart settle. She managed an only slightly forced laugh as she scraped the ruined clay off the wheel. “It actually happens more often than you’d think, I’ll have to get fresh clay- this is too wet to use again.” 

Dropping the old clay into the bucket of water beside the wheel, she reached for another piece of clay. “Oh, and before you even start, you have to make sure that you wedge the clay—like kneading—to get the air bubbles out, otherwise the clay can explode in the kiln. I prepped a bunch before setting up at the wheel so I don’t constantly have to get up every time I…” 

Sheesh, Civilian, do you ever stop to breathe? 

The dismissive voice was only an echo in her mind, but it was enough that she cut off the stream of facts she’d been about to share and lifted her hands from the clay and her foot from the pedal. “I’m sorry, I got too excited and—”

Villain scooted his stool closer, close enough to reach out and touch, and the rest of her apology faded into the air between them. His voice was low as he asked, “Is that what that miserable cow would tell you?” 

“What?” 

“Is that what your ex would tell you?” The muscles in his jaw clenched, and he all but spat out his next words. “That you got ‘too excited?’” She would have been afraid, had it not been so clear his anger was not at her, but for her. 

Ex’s actual words had been ‘like an excitable little puppy,’ but she was going to tell Villain that. 

Apparently her face was easy enough to read though, because Villain’s expression turned violent. 

“He’s not a bad guy,” she rushed to say. 

She’d loved him, after all. 

Villain shook his head before he stilled, staring at her with those piercing eyes that seemed to see every disdainful remark Ex had ever thrown at her. “You really believe that.” 

Civilian shifted under Villain’s scrutiny, trying to remember the good days, the reasons she’d let him put a ring on her finger. He hadn’t been a bad egg. But. He just maybe wasn’t a good one either.

Villain leaned closer, extending his hand to her, palm up, an invitation. Despite the clay on her hands, she found herself sliding her fingers into his. Then she wondered why, after what he’d done, the motion felt more natural than it ever had with Ex. 

After the cool clay, his hand felt like holding a warm mug of cocoa. His eyes blazed, and his intensity sparked a fluttering of attraction in her chest. 

“Your passion is not a burden to be borne.” 

The words landed on her heart and slowly sank in, washing away every critical remark, every doubtful judgement. 

Why don’t you choose a more steady career path?

Your doodles are sweet, Civilian, but…

Your father and I won’t waste our money on an education that will only leave you begging on the street.

Let us know when you’ve come to your senses.

Are you sure you don’t want to switch now? Our life together will be much more stable if we have two steady incomes.

Civilian blinked, letting Villain’s words heal something inside her, until he abruptly dropped his hand and scooted away. 

All her life, she’d been told her art was nothing more than a pointless detour. Now Villain sat before her, entirely captivated by the process. 

His genuine interest made her eyes suspiciously blurry, but she wet her hands and started the wheel turning. Her hands slipped on the clay as she glanced at Villain out of the corner of her eye, but his gentle smile brought a warm fluttering to her chest that made it easier to continue her explanation as her hands began to center the soft clay.

Civilian was busy explaining the purpose of waiting to trim until a pot was leather dry when she slowed the wheel and finally paid attention to the clay beneath her fingers. 

It was a decent looking pot, at first glance. Instantly her mind went searching for flaws. Was the lip too thin, the curve of the base too wide? 

“It’s incredible.” Villain’s awed voice broke through the deluge of self-doubts. 

“It’s not perfect, but--” 

“Ok, you can stop right there.” 

Villain’s easy smile was gone. “You are about to critique each and every last aspect of what you just made--MADE--with your own hands, and you haven’t even stopped to realize that you. made. that.” 

Civilian didn’t realize she was gaping until Villain’s eyes moved to her lips. She snapped her mouth closed, then cleared her throat as she licked her lips. 

“Yes, well…” Her hands fluttered, wet drops of clay-water splattering her clothes. 

“Just look at it like you’re seeing it through museum glass.” His voice was soft again, coaxing. 

Looking back at the pot, she tried to imagine it like Villain said, an ancient work set on display. The fat base curved upwards into a narrow neck before widening into the lip. And he was right. 

It was incredible. 

“You made that.” 

Civilian let out a little laugh. “I did.” 

“You know,” Villain mused, “the proportions are almost identical to this Chinese vase I stole last year.” 

Her head shot up. He knew pottery? 

Villain grinned, voice heavy with exaggerated arrogance. “It was from the Han Dynasty.” 

A laugh sputtered from her lips. “Riiiiight. You almost had me for a minute there.”

Villain just kept smiling, though now it was a little smug. 

She cocked her head to the side as she stared him down. “No.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, and she barely resisted the urge to flick clay-water at him. “You did not just make me word vomit pottery 101 at you only to reveal that you are an expert!” 

That blasted grin was still on those wicked lips. “It was quite fascinating to hear your explanations.” 

Villain blinked as the gray water splattered his face, catching on his eyelashes and dripping down his chin.

Civilian froze, waiting for his reaction. Then Villain tipped back his head and laughed. It was deep and full of genuine amusement. 

When he straightened, laughter still creased his eyes. “I’m sorry, Civilian, but I couldn’t resist.” 

Before she could sink into the mortification of explaining basic ceramics to an expert, Villain spoke again. “If it makes you feel any better, I truly knew little of how they were made; I just happen to know what makes a good one.” 

“So you’re an art expert?” 

This time his shrug was more genuine. “I deal mostly with jewels, but I know enough about the various art forms to know what makes them valuable.” 

“Valuable enough to steal?” Civilian ventured. 

He tipped his head in acknowledgement. 

This time, she was the one who leaned forward. “Would you tell me about it?

Shoutout to @im-a-wonderling for both bribing me to write this and staying up late to beta-read. Y’all can thank her that it’s more than 500 words of a hot mess :) 

Taglist: 

@im-a-wonderling @shieldmaiden-of-gondor @watercolorfreckles @distance-does-not-matter @onestopheroxvillain @lolafaiy @chaoticgoodandi @1becky1 @tobeornottobeateacher @himynameisorla @superherosweet @brekker-by-brekkerr @crazytwentythrees @great-day-today @sunflower1000@selectivegeekwithstandards @chibicelloking @trantolette @sapphiques @jinpanman @genesissane @wish1bone1 @amongtheonedaisy @distractedlydistracted @kitsunesakii @glitterythief @jinx1365 @cherrychewingbrat @in-patient-princess @thepenultimateword @sorrow-and-bliss @technikerin23 @deflated-bouncingball 

@world-of-fire-and-flight @imsotiredcanipleasegetabreak 

lmk if you want to be added or taken off:) 

[velveys]

Axl Rose & Mick Jagger backstage at Steel Wheels Tour (1989)

[vintagerocker69]

On this day in 2021 we lost dear Charlie Watts. R.I.P. 🙏😔

Charlie Watts On Stage

British musician Charlie Watts of the Rolling Stones performs on stage during the band's 'Steel Wheels' tour, late 1989. (Photo by Paul Natkin/Getty Images)

[waugh-bao]

Mick and Charlie tease each other and make fun of the guitarists while working on stage design for the Steel Wheels tour (Video/1989)