#this was not the horse to bet on screamer

[transingthoseformers]

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐???

[artroidsart]

I WON! THROUGH NOT-MY-OWN-VOLITION!

Okay, context: my friend 259Sports over on YouTube ran a TMP tournament. The way he runs his games is that he controls all the devices and gives each player a random name. Everyone else was either a fictional character or a company. However, for reasons I don't know, he included ME in the roaster!

AND GUESS WHO ENDED UP WINNING THE ENTIRE TOURNAMENT?! The Screamer as ME! It was REALLY CLOSE too! Little Screamer was DEAD LAST and out of NOWHERE stole the lead!! It was amazing! Trust me! Is this how it feels to bet on horse racing?

Hey Andrew, since I won, can I get my own episode?

[caitlinsnow-yayyy]

Why Him? (a kwami swap story)

Very overdue story for my friend @nerdasaurus1200 - a King Monkey and Ryuko kwami swap story! You can probably imagine chaos will ensue from these two swapping... and maybe, a new friendship? 

We shall see! I hope anyone reading this enjoys it :) And Nerd, my friend, I hope this was worth the wait! :D Sorry this took so long lol.

(story under the cut)

Oh, of all the people, why Kim?

Today, Adrien and Marinette had decided that the team wasn't working well enough together, and they decided to have a set apart Saturday for a mandatory team bonding exercise - kwami swapping. Chloe got Alix, Max got Nathaniel, Marc switched with Juleka, Ivan swapped with Rose, who then swapped with Mylene; Alya swapped with Nino, and her own boyfriend, Luka, got to swap with Sabrina. Marinette and Adrien swapped (of course).

Their only instructions were to not leave their partner for the day; they didn't even need to seek out an akuma. They could literally go shopping if they wanted to, so long as they stood together.

And she... had gotten Kim.

"You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?" Kim asked, pointing to his circlet.

Kagami gave him a dead stare. "I should ask you the same for my choker."

"Oh, it'll be fine!" Kim smirked. "This is Le Chien Kim ya got here! Not a klutz."

Kagami, again, deadpanned him. Were these words seriously coming out of his mouth right now? Honestly, of all the people she could've gotten, why KIM?! Kim with the Dragon Miraculous just sounded like an accident waiting to happen.

She just didn't feel like throwing a rubber banana today either.

As if examples of how the others days were going couldn't get shoved in her face any more than what her mind was already doing, Nathaniel, equipped with Voyage, Naruto-ran through two portals about two rooftops away from them. Max, equipped with the Fire Flame power, was chasing him with a crossbow that had a flaming arrow. Somehow they were laughing.

"Let's just get this over with," Kagami sighed. "You go first."

"Sweet!" Kim said. "Alright, LONGG - BRING THE STORM!"

She would be lying if she said the Dragon costume didn't fit well on Kim - his suit was a darker red than hers, and his hair that normally stuck up was now covered with a horn-like design for a mask. Honestly, it kinda looked like Dark Cupid. He had wings imprinted into the spandex on his back, and his sword fell into his hands.

Why was she so scared of this?

"Oh, this is so cool!" he exclaimed. "I shall be known as... Doragon Kaosu!"

"Chaos Dragon - fitting," Kagami nodded. "Alright... guess its my turn. XUPPU, SHOWTIME!"

Kagami had already decided her name was going to be Queen Monkey; she saw no need to be original with her name. After all, it wasn't like she was gonna be the Monkey wielder for long. She was just eager for 6 o'clock to roll around so this could be over with.

"Holy crap," Doragon said once her transformation was up, "you look badass!"

Kagami had to smile at that one - despite the fact that Kim was an idiot, he still had his moments, and was really just a fun-loving soul at heart. No one could deny that. "Thank you, Doragon. Now, wanna take your Miraculous for a test run?"

Suddenly, an akuma flew past - he was some sort of hang-gliding akuma, yelling at the top of his lungs about how hang-gliding school was real and not a joke.

"Oh, oh this is perfect!" Doragon laughed. "I've always wanted to do this..."

"Wait, what are you-"

"LIGHTNING DRAGON!"

Doragon suddenly turned into a lightning bolt, and struck the hang-gliding akuma man out of the sky. Queen Monkey screamed out bloody murder in horror, fearing for her sake and for her life that Kim hadn't even been Doragon Kaosu for two minutes and he had already killed someone!

"KIM!" yelled Queen Monkey. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Chill, he's fine!" said Doragon, manifesting back in front of her. "I made sure to check his pulse before I got back. He'll live."

"YEAH, FOR LIKE ANOTHER MINUTE!" Queen Monkey screamed. "OH MY GOD!"

"Chill out, Queenie!" Doragon said, genuinely becoming concerned for her. "Its gonna be fine!"

"Woah, what's going on here?"

Kagami and Kim looked up, and there was another kwami swap duo: Luka, now Blue Heeler, and Sabrina, now Hydra. "Gami? Kim? You two okay?" asked Heeler.

"I just struck somebody with lightning, and Queenie over here thinks it'll kill him," Doragon said, somehow completely nonchalant that he had just struck down someone with lightning.

"O..Oh... y-yeah, that'll do it," Heeler muttered, taking a deep breath.

"Should I use Second Chance?" asked Hydra.

"N-No... I think its probably best we leave you two to work this out," Heeler said.

"Wait!" Queen Monkey whispered to him. "P-Please... I-I don't know if I can handle this..."

"Hey, you're gonna do just fine," Heeler reassured her. "It'll probably take some getting used to, but-"

"I-Its not that," Queen Monkey said softly. "I-Its...w-well... he's an idiot."

"You don't know that," Heeler said gently. "Reckless? Probably. Chaotic? You bet! But give him a chance, okay? Please?"

Kagami looked up at Luka... damn those soft eyes. It always made her crack and she hated it! Well, okay, no, she didn't hate it. But she just wished... oh, never mind.

"Fine," she crumbled.

"Thank you so much, Gami," smiled Heeler. "Seriously. Thank you."

"M-hmm," Queen Monkey nodded, trying to appear as sincere as possible. Truth be told, she was still dreading the rest of the day. Hydra and Doragon then wrapped up whatever they were chatting about, and then Sabrina ran off with Luka to go continue their own kwami-swap adventure.

And thank the Lord, the paramedics arrived to take the hang-glider akuma guy away for proper treatment...

-0-

4:00

Oh, just one more hour... one more!

And then, she would have Longg back, and Kim would be back with Xuppu. Like it should be. She was excited to finally get back to normal...

"Hey, Kagami?"

"Hmm?"

The two were currently resting on a rooftop, having just caught another akuma in the trusty akuma-catching portable butterfly nets that they had been supplied with. How they worked was beyond them, but hey, they worked; hopefully Mister Bug didn't mind a surplus of akumas to purify.

"Do you... do you hate me?" Doragon asked.

"What? No no, no!" Queen Monkey said, sitting upright. "Of course not!"

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeming... genuinely troubled. "You sure do act like it."

"No no, God no! I don't hate you, Kim!" Queen Monkey said. "Its just... its..."

"Hmm?" Doragon asked, looking down.

"I'M JEALOUS! I'm jealous, okay?! That's it!" she blurted out. "Its just... you're able to be so reckless and chaotic all the time! And yet, somehow, you can... I don't know, control the chaos? I wish I could do that, for crying out loud! I've always had to be perfect, nothing could be off! Being Queen Monkey has given me a sweet release, and I've really enjoyed it, and you make an excellent Dragon wielder but my pride wouldn't let me admit it! There! Are you happy?"

Queen Monkey then took in deep breaths of air, never having vented like that before... it was new.

And honestly, it felt good to get that off of her chest.

Suddenly, Doragon put a hand on her shoulder, and smiled sadly.

"Wanna know something?" Doragon said. "I'm... I'm kinda jealous of you too."

"Huh?" Queen Monkey said in shock.

"You're able to create a plan on the fly, and you never have to just wing it," Doragon said. "Not only that, but you can be picture perfect when needed. I'm always this big mess of chaos, never really able to control anything but. Though I do wish, at times, that I could be a straight shooter; like you! So yeah, I'm kinda jealous of you too..."

Queen Monkey chuckled. "Well then... uhm..."

"Don't know what to say?" asked Doragon.

"Read my mind," nodded Queen Monkey. "Uh... so... I guess, uh, we're even? Of sorts?"

Doragon shrugged. "Guess so... but really, I'm glad you don't hate me."

"God, how could I hate you?" asked Queen Monkey. "Honestly, though at times, you are a moron - its hilarious. You're hilarious. I'm not only jealous of your ability to control chaos, but your sense of humor is so natural flowing and witty - I could never do that! That's a gift!"

"You kidding me? Of course you could!" Doragon laughed. "And your stoicism... the ability to keep a stone cold glare going for more than five seconds. I'm envious of that, because I know I couldn't do that for shite!"

"Oh come on, you could!" Queen Monkey exclaimed. "See, the trick is to..."

The two wouldn't count on it, but they'd spend the next hour chatting and talking like they were best friends. They'd talk similarities, their differences, what was going on in their romantic lives, how they thought of their powers on the norm, etc.

After the conversation, honestly, the two honestly weren't even ready to swap back when Mister Bug sent out the signal for them to come back.

-0-

"So, how was that day, guys?" asked Mister Bug to the currently present heroes. Lady Noire still had her arm hooked around his; those two were madly in love. It was almost sickeningly cute.

"SO MUCH FUN!" Tourterelle (turtle!Alya) exclaimed.

"Yeah, this was a sick day!" Red Vix (fox!Nino) added.

"AWESOME!" Sun Screamer (rooster!Max) yelled.

"I had so much fun!" Trotter (horse!Nath) exclaimed. "This may actually be the best team bonding exercise idea ever! Thanks you two!"

"Honestly, we didn't get much action," Mr. Stripes (tiger!Marc) chuckled.

"I mean, I guess I learned how to tap dance," Madame Hoofer (goat!Juleka) shrugged with a smile (she failed to notice Rose's sudden blush). "Just what happens when ya get bored, y'know?"

"Its difficult to be intimidating like this," Pink Boar (pig!Ivan) said sadly.

"Oh, you're always a sweetheart to me!" Bluebell (ox!Mylene) smiled up at her boyfriend.

"So cute!" Mouselia (mouse!Rose) said, holding her hands together.

"We had a lot of fun," Blue Heeler (dog!Luka) smiled.

"Yeah, it was actually pretty fun using Repetition as a power!" Hydra (snake!Sabrina) said, equally as happy.

"Psh... It was okay, I guess," Madame Cottontail (bunny!Chloe) shrugged.

"Oh come on, you loved it!" Hornet (bee!Alix) said, smirking smugly.

"Well, we're glad you all had fun!" Lady Noire smiled. "Uh... Kim? Kagami? How'd you all fare?"

There was tension - everyone could feel it. A commonly shared feeling of dread was shared at the start of the day when it was announced that Kim and Kagami would be swapping Miraculouses... but everyone was caught off guard by the two nodding and smirking at one another.

"When can we do it again?" the two asked.

"O-Oh!" Lady Noire gasped, not expecting that answer. "W-Well... uhm, we hadn't thought of doing this again!"

"But, m'lady, you do have to agree - this has been a very successful day," Mister Bug said.

"You're very right, my bug," smiled Lady Noire, nodding. "Well... how about not next Saturday, but the Saturday after? Same swaps? Everyone cool with that?"

A simultaneous nod went around the group, and Lady Noire and Mister Bug settled it - every other Saturday would henceforth be known as "Kwami Swap Day".

"Pound it?" asked Doragon, sticking out his fist.

Queen Monkey nodded, returning the bump. "Pound it."

It hadn't been expected, no, but it wasn't any less welcome because of that.

This friendship would be one for the ages, for sure...

[the--blackdahlia]

Cowgirls Don’t Cry (Nikki x Reader)

Title: Cowgirls Don’t Cry

Summary: Doc sent the boys to a rodeo

WArnings: Fluff

AN: I know NOTHING about rodeos, so I don’t know how anything is. Requested by @teller258316​. I hope that this garbage is okay

It was the night after their concert in the Dallas area. The boys had some downtime and instead of rushing off to the midwest, where it was currently snowing, they decided to stay in Texas and see the sights. Vince and Tommy had never been to Texas before, Mick had been once a long time ago, and Nikki had been almost everywhere when he was being ping ponged back and forth between his mother and his grandparents.

“I expected more cowboys,” Tommy pouted as they made their way to an event Doc had gotten them tickets for, in hopes of keeping them out of trouble. “Like six shooters, hats, and belt buckles.”

“You watch too many movies drummer.” Mick shook his head.

“What are we going to see anyway?” Vince asked. “There was a perfectly good strip club down the street. Could’ve found myself a Debbie.” He winked.

“Maybe we can sneak out of here later and…” Nikki froze as they came into the arena for their event. They hadn’t even bothered to look at the tickets to see what the event was.

“Kid, I think we found your cowboys,” Mick said, leaning towards Tommy. The stands had tons of people in cowboy hats, and the arena was set up like nothing they had seen before. People were giving them strange looks, with their big hair, their leather jackets and pants, and Tommy still had eyeliner on.

“I think we’re in the wrong place,” Nikki grumbled.

“Doc said it would keep us out of trouble…” Vince said.

“These dudes could kill us!” Tommy added. Mick shook his head and made his way towards their seats. Close to the front row where they could see all the action. No one seemed to know who they were as they took their seats. No one came up to ask for autographs, or ask about concerts, or hit on them.

“I thought everyone knew who we were,” Vince said, looking around. “But not a single girl has come up to me!”

“You guys gotta remember there are other genres of music out there,” Mick pointed out. “And everyone who was at our concert last night probably is still in bed or something.” That’s when Nikki’s eyes caught a girl walking into the rodeo area.

“Nikki?” Tommy waved his hand in front of his face. “What are you staring...oh hello there.” Tommy said, following Nikki’s gaze. “She’s hot.”

“Bet she has no idea who we are though.” Mick told him. That’s when she looked over in their direction and her eyes widened. She made her way over towards them, leaning on the metal barrior between the stands and the arena.

“I...you’re Motley Crue,” She gasped. “I didn’t see you guys as rodeo guys.”

“Are you kidding? We love the rodeo.” Vince smirked and took her hand, kissing it. “I’m Vince.”

“(Y/n).” She laughed. Tommy pushed Vince out of the way and leaned on the barrier, smiling at (Y/n).

“Hey. Tommy. Drummer extraordinaire.” Tommy said, smiling at (Y/n). Nikki shook his head and stood by Tommy. (Y/n) looked over at him and found it hard to talk suddenly.

“Hey.” Was all Nikki had to say. (Y/n) just kept staring at him.

“I think you broke her,” Mick pointed out. (Y/n) blinked.

“Oh, uh, hi.” She smiled. “I, uh, I gotta go do things over there…” She stumbled as she walked away. Vince looked over at Nikki.

“How the hell do you always do that?” Vince asked.

“Do what?” Nikki asked.

“Make girls do that,” Vince said. “Because I’m cute and charming damn it, and the girls always want to go after you!”

“Girls think he’s cute,” Mick shrugged. “Get over it singer.” Vince sat there and pouted as the event started. There was roping, bull riding, and barrel racing, plus more. The boys were glued to it all, watching everything. They had never seen anything like it before.

“Guys, look!” Tommy said, pointing towards (Y/n), who was getting ready for her event. She was on a horse next to another girl and they took off, racing around the barrels to see who could get done first. The other girl decided to not play fair and elbowed (Y/n) hard, knocking her off her horse.

“Hey!” Nikki called out, standing up. The other guys did to as the horse was led back to its stall and (Y/n) was helped up and went to be examined. Nikki made his way over to her, noticing the frown on her face and the tears in her eyes.

“Nikki?” (Y/n) asked, watching him. “What are you doing here?”

“That was a dick move that happened to you,” Nikki told her. “And of course I’m going to check on the one person in the whole arena who knows who I am.” (Y/n) nodded and wiped at her eyes. “Hey, I believe in you (Y/n).”

“But I lost,” She sighed. “I can’t go to the final round.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re amazing,” Nikki told her. “And it takes a lot of balls to go out there and do that. There’s no way in hell that I could ever do that.”

“But, you’re Nikki Sixx,” (Y/n) said. “You can do anything.”

“I couldn’t do that,” He smiled at her. “I think I’ll leave it to you.”

“Thanks Nikki,” (Y/n) said softly.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” Nikki asked. “Might take away the sting a little?”

“I probably smell like crap though.” (Y/n) laughed.

“You should smell me after a concert. I totally smell like lilacs and fairy dust and not sweat and Jack.” He laughed. (Y/n) smiled and met him halfway, letting him deepen the kiss. That’s when the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard.

“Sorry to interrupt,” One of the officials said. “Ms. (L/N), we rewatched the video and decided to award you the victory. You’ll be in the final round.” (Y/n) looked at Nikki with wide eyes.

“You go out there and kick some ass, and I’ll take you to dinner afterwards, win or lose.” Nikki told her. She hugged him before running off to get ready. Nikki made his way back to his seat.

“Where did you go?” Tommy asked.

“Had to cheer someone up,” Nikki shrugged. “Let’s just watch the rest of the event, okay?”

There were a few things before the barrel racing finals. When (Y/n)’s name was announced, Nikki was all smiles.

“I was just given a message from (Y/n),” The announcer said. “It’s say ‘this one is for you Sixx’.” Nikki laughed as he watched her get ready. He was not known for blushing, but damn she got his cheeks red. He was on the edge of his seat as he watched her take the corners and pushing her horse to go as fast as she could.

All the way to her victory.

“Yeah!” Nikki called out, jumping up. “Go (Y/n)!” He started to leave then.

“Where are you going?” Mick asked.

“I’ve got a dinner date,” Nikki told them. “I’ll see you guys later.” He left then to go meet up with (Y/n). He knew that in a couple days, he’d leave and she would eventually forget about him, but for the night, they were going to have each other.

And honestly, Nikki hadn’t smiled or laughed that much in a long time.

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo​ @dekahg​ @marvel-af-imagines​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @nanie5​ @imboredsueme​ @gemini0410​ @aiaranradnay​ @babypink224221​ @mogaruke​ @xxwarhawk​ @sandlee44​ @shatteredabby​ @caswinchester2000​ @supernaturalwincestsblog​ @lauravic​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @teller258316​

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee

[jesiwrites]

For Pride, For Honor, For Glory

Summary: “Tell me how you sucker punched the crap out of that piece of shit Loras and embarrassed him to the point he won’t even look you in the eye.”

Tanner is fifteen years old. The pretty bastard of the army, a fledgling soldier, and a popular subject of gossip; Loras wants to see if he can add another notch on his belt.

It’s a GOT-type setting, so genre-typical warnings apply. Attempted sexual assault of a minor, intoxication.

It said something about Tanner and Allister’s closeness to where, even after a fuck, they were cordial enough to share the same bed, hold each other close, and engage in pillow talk that ranged from military tactics to the going-ons of the campsite.

Perhaps cordial wasn’t the right word. Tanner knew, but he’d rather Allister figure it out on his own than be forthright. They had gone this long without saying what they were, preferring to let the others guess and know with looks, touches, and a need to be together to signal what they meant to each other. Tanner looked at it that way, in any case.

Allister snorted before tossing his head back and letting a laugh out from deep in his chest. “No, no, no, really? That was you? You, the pretty bastard of the army?”

Tanner crinkled his nose and made a snort, then a laugh. “What, you think I don’t know how to throw a punch?” He gave a light shove to Allister’s chest.

“Never said that! Tell me how you sucker punched the crap out of that piece of shit Loras and embarrassed him to the point he won’t even look you in the eye,” Allister teased, toothy grin and a devilish delight in his eyes. He pushed Tanner’s hip with a tease, laughing when Tanner brushed his hand away.

“It’s a long story,” Tanner offered, to which Allister gestured to the dark night outside. They had hours until the morning.

Tanner was fifteen years old and had been making a name for himself in the army. He was diligent, quiet yet friendly; a strikingly handsome bastard boy of Lord Aesnir Palatinus III who took to a lance like the fire dancers of the south to their batons, maneuvering a polearm the way a color guardsman did a banner. Caster took a shine to him as the boy was eager to learn and prove himself. It showed in the way he pushed him harder through drills, drug him up by the collar of his shirt and threw him back into the practice ring until Tanner would nearly pass out from heat and physical exhaustion. Without being told, Tanner would tend to the stables before the stable boys, taking his horse for obstacle course drills, moving with her as one unit and piercing through dummies with his lance. He had gotten to the point of training her to buck and kick to defend him should he make an oversight.

It was a team of rider and mare if he had ever seen one.

Loras, meanwhile, was a knight who was comfortable resting on the laurels of many things: his name; his skills; his good looks. A fine swordsman, all things considered, but the titles and various privileges that came with his station had made him comfortable in recent memory. He had a reputation for being quite the dog of the army, taking nubile young men and many a blushing maiden to bed with the deftness of a fisherman in a clear lake during spawning. And he eyed the young bastard boy the way a chicken hawk did prey, not that it was unusual for any of the men in the army to have their eye on fresh meat.

Especially if that fresh meat had cheekbones like his father’s and carried himself with dignity, but sand-colored skin; wine red eyes; and slate grey hair that draped down his shoulders all of his own. Tanner would play with his hair in agitation when he heard the same refrain across the camps: “Aesnir’s pretty bastard…pretty like a woman…pretty like his whore mother.”

That same old song and dance haunted him since he was born. Everyone knew that Tanner chose not to engage in relations with anyone in the army, for one reason or another. They had their suspicions of whom he bedded, but no one had ever heard of anyone bedding him; the idea of doing so a challenge of mythic proportions. He was perfectly aware of what people said about him. It didn’t hurt any less, even as he drove himself to be a good soldier. He was a boy becoming a man with eyes on a ranked position, titles and dignity that he was frequently told he didn’t deserve due to his pedigree.

He kept to himself mostly, overseeing and training new recruits, delegating responsibilities of the camp to people he sized up as worthwhile. There was a sense of caution in his eyes, despite his gregarious nature: sweet and kind, but keeping would-be paramours well over arm’s length. Some of them had been on the sharp end of his weapon, taking the hint or seeing it as an obstacle to overcome.

Loras had been one of the latter.

It had been a day they were sniffing out raiders like hounds on a fox. It was one of Tanner’s first missions as a member of the cavalry, being expected to follow before leading. Loras claimed glory for his kills and charisma towards the townsfolk; Tanner wasn’t faulted for observing him. Tanner continued to prove himself a worthy recruit, his horse bucking and kicking when he would miss a hit to make up for his oversight, lance spearing through a neck or skull like a fork into a cut of meat. It had been a good mission all around. The night ended with a celebratory meal, ale and mead flowing freely with roasted boar and root vegetables.

Loras took the opportunity to seat himself next to the recruit, who was being teased by some of the other men for a variety of things his tongue had let slip.

“Now now, what’s everyone teasing the little blueblood for?” Loras started, gentle smile as he looked down at Tanner. He was playing with his hair; he always did when he was flustered, like he was trying to hide behind it.

“Well, Tanner here just confessed an interesting little secret for us,” started Magnus, the axe-wielder. He was bulky but intelligent, like an ancient yew or oak tree. He started out a commoner, but one wouldn’t know with how well he could mimic the upper class when discussing tactics or going ons of the army when prompted. Craster looked to him to guide the foot soldiers for good reason.

“Oh?” Loras asked, looking at Tanner. “Not good to keep secrets from your brothers at arms.”

“It’s personal, no need to share it,” Tanner started, looking at Magnus with the slightest hint of embarrassment. Loras had to admit, he was cute, painfully so. He wouldn’t have been surprised—

“I’m surprised you’ve kept your virtue in tact with all these beasts here, little half-prince,” Magnus said smoothly, the table going silent as Tanner made a thousand yard stare into his mug of ale. That wasn’t a secret; everyone knew Tanner was a virgin of some capacity. Not totally, not with the way he flirted; but enough to prove he hadn’t quite let his boundaries be breached yet. “You mean to tell me none of these strapping young men have you curious to try?”

“Oh there’s a few--!” Tanner started before clamping his mouth shut; gods, alcohol was going to get him in trouble for half of the things he said. He wanted to sign a waiver to forfeit responsibility.

“Oho, a few, huh?” Loras grinned, sitting beside the younger man with a deliberate tap of his hip against Tanner’s. “Do tell; I may be able to make something of it.”

Tanner snorted and shooed away Loras, the knight only mildly affronted. He hadn’t seen someone this shy since one of the handmaidens of the court, a soft-spoken nit named Agatha who turned out to be quite the screamer by the end of it. “Come on, there’s a few here you’ve clearly got your eye on,” the knight said with the tease of an older sibling, looking at the boy who kept squirming in his seat. He was thoroughly out of his element, dangerously close to being the butt of a joke. And with a crippling hatred of being embarrassed, to boot.

“Didn’t you mention one of those recruits? Alexander?” one of the younger soldiers offered to Tanner, whom corrected him: “Allister.”

“Ah, how cute, you know his name. Not bad though, you like that sort: manly, sure of himself.”

“I’ve also found that Scotch character rather handsome,” Tanner admitted meekly, taking another drink of ale in a meager attempt to shut himself up.

“Ahaha, two pretty men having their way at each other, looking like a pair of women without the bits!” Magnus howled at the observation. “Both of the two you mentioned, I bet they’re a right pair of cads. Allister probably fucks whoever looks his way right, and that noble boy could charm the pants off the royal family without even trying, from what I’ve heard.”

Of course Tanner had his eyes on men with experience, who had more swagger in their bodies than some men had in the experience of their lives. Loras took that assessment to heart; he could charm him, he determined. “So, those two specifically? Are men naturally your type, Tanner, or have you ever fucked a woman?”

Tanner felt his face grow a little warm but made a slow blink and nodded. “Of course. Just…servant girls, girls who were curious. Sometimes they felt bad because I’d been excluded, because they knew what I was. One girl told me that she wanted to see what it was like, fucking a pretty boy. She said I was gentle, scared even. I mean, I was twelve.”

“And your first time with a man?”

“I went to a whorehouse,” Tanner admitted. “I wanted to bed.”

Whatever embarrassment normally accompanied his admissions was surprisingly absent. Tanner was a painfully honest drunk, the kind that was perfect to assassinate literally or figuratively. Loras wasn’t in the mood for bloodshed.

“Was he pretty like you?” Magnus teased with a little sneer, more good-natured than anything.

Tanner nodded again as if a father or uncle was addressing him, coaching him through the minutiae of fucking versus lovemaking. “He was,” he murmured, “Fair skin and pale blue eyes.”

“Ah those are always gorgeous. You have good tastes, by all accounts.”

Tanner felt his face warm up more, deciding it was the ale and not the compliment. “I should probably go to bed, this is…quite a lot that I’ve talked and I’m afraid I’ll get myself into more trouble.”

“Come. I’ll walk you to your room,” Loras said, hand on Tanner’s back as he held him steady. Magnus watched the scene unfold and then back at Tanner, who was wobbling like a new fawn. Loras gathered himself and kept his hand on Tanner’s back, leading him away to the quarters.

Was it dirty-handed, taking advantage of an easily flustered, inebriated boy? Of course.

But you didn’t look at a lame boar and think “I should kill my food honorably.”

He could’ve been crueler and had half a dozen men who wanted to claim a piece of the royal bastard for themselves when he was finished, but he’d rather save the privilege in its entirety for himself. At the end of the day, Loras knew what he was: a glory hound. And he wasn’t about to look a feast away just because it had fallen to the floor. Tanner was unaware enough to not have registered where he was in the hallway, all the doors in all the corridors blending together. The braziers were like melted suns on the walls, the windows slightly tilted. He watched Loras open the door and looked around, and said something that made Loras’ blood start to run cold: “Did we pass my room, Ser Loras.”

“We may have, but do you really want to be alone in your state,” Loras replied coolly at the young boy who was doing his best not to show that he was at the halfway point of tipsy and drunk. Loras didn’t give Tanner an option to respond before guiding him into his room, the boy taking to it like a suggestion.

Loras’ room was no different than any of the other knights’ or soldiers’. Minimally decorated, a few medals and pins to suggest his stature and accomplishments along with his armor, but above all, he carried it all in his heart, character, and disposition. Tanner was both a little stunned and a little unsurprised, figuring Loras cared little for material tokens of his winnings. He looked back up at Loras, mouth against his and fingers holding his chin, firm lips against his.

A few seconds later, he registered: “Goodness, you are cute.”

Tanner overestimated his tolerance, the alcohol making the room tilt and waver, but not spin. He was still a lightweight, all things considered. Loras composed himself with enough swagger to diffuse his slight sway, the cant of his head weaving and bobbing like he had a good laugh. First-timers were always easy; get them drunk enough and say enough nice things to them, and they’d do anything to keep the night going.

Tanner was proving to be no exception, especially given the fact his self-esteem issues had all the subtlety of a gaping chest wound. He starved for affection; he didn’t quite believe the experience was real. Loras especially liked the way he sat in his lap and straddled him, draping his arms around him as the knight supported him from falling over. His inhibitions had been stripped from him like his trousers were close to being; a terribly lonely boy who wanted affection from anywhere, particularly from men. It was almost sad how easy it was. He could’ve done it here, pull himself out while Tanner was least expecting it and just hazy enough to register what was going on –

But he did have a soft spot for seeing Tanner on his back, being put in his place for good.

“Ah, ah, ah, what a sweet little thing you are,” Loras teased, leading Tanner to the bed and holding his side, tracing the slight curve to it. A pretty little prize, he determined, enjoying how cute he looked as he kept trying to blink away the effects of the ale, color in his cheeks. The knight grabbed his chin, pulling him down for another kiss as the hand stroking Tanner’s side went around and pushed his ass towards him. He restrained a laugh at Tanner’s expense when the recruit fell over himself and into the bed face first.

Tanner inhaled and pushed himself up, pushing back against the bed. His sway was becoming less pronounced, his faculties returning to him as he gripped his head and winced. He looked back at Loras, a hand around his wrist as he guided him back into the bed like a song. He had him, he needed to confirm it. He loomed over the younger soldier, pinning his arms back to keep him from moving and settled himself between his legs.

Tanner didn’t like the way the knight leered at him, not as a person but a conquest. It was becoming increasingly clear there was no kindness or consideration; he was a notch in Loras’ belt, a prize that he would gloat about winning to the whole army. Tanner felt a sense of dread pool at his stomach as Loras had his wrists gripped behind his head, thrashing and kicking.

“Easy, easy, thought you said you were curious to try,” Loras whispered in his ear, coquetry with a bite of expectation. “Come on now, I know you’re pretty like a girl; didn’t think you’d be a fucking tease like one, too.”

Tanner’s nostrils flared at that sentiment. “Get - the fuck - off me,” he snarled, every syllable and fragment clipped like stabbing.

Revulsion coursed through him like sickness, feeling the urge to vomit in the pit of his stomach and to the back of his throat as Loras smashed his wet lips against his, taking a hand away to reach around and find the waistband of Tanner’s trousers, beginning to yank them down. Red flags were in Tanner’s eyes with alarms ringing in his ears; he had to do something. Loras was between his legs, pinning him down and he was scared; gods above, he was scared. He was in possession of himself to not cry or shut down, trying to relax himself from the thrash but thinking of a way to get out of the hold quickly and give enough distance between the two of them. Without fail, he curled his legs to his chest and kicked firmly into Loras’ shoulders, launching the knight off of him and a good few feet away from the bed. For a moment, he thanked the fact he was more flexible than he gave himself credit for.

He quickly scrambled off the bed, keeping a wide distance between him and the other man. He looked like a feral animal ready to strike, Loras seeing that he snatched his hunting knife off the bedside table and had it unsheathed at him.

“You come near me and I gut you. Stand down,” Tanner warned. He had all the fear of a young man but with all the determination of someone ready to kill. Loras kept down to the ground, not unlike a wolf being challenged by an upstart and aware it was losing. Tanner was merely threatening him; he was a little stunned Tanner didn’t take the opportunity to mount his back and put the knife to his throat.

“This does not leave this room. There will be no discussion of what happened tonight. So gods help us both.”

And with that, he backed against the door and slipped out, keeping Loras’ knife as protection.

---

The morning had started normally, with an average breakfast of smoked meat, gruel and water. Men had split off into their factions and groups, sitting around their compatriots who would hear their stories and entertain their bullshit.

Tanner came in, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he was still dressed in riding leathers. It was the middle of the week, his usual day to do his drills with Silverfish. What made today unusual was how silence came like a wave the moment he walked in the door. He looked around at the men and chose to not say a word, making his breakfast and slinking to an unoccupied table to assess the day.

Then he heard snickering, tucking his hair behind his ear. He was always self-conscious but something told him he had every right to be right now. He could feel eyes looking at him, the whole room watching him; something wasn’t right. He looked up and scanned the room. Everyone was looking at him, staring at him, leering at him. And he was alone, the fact making the situation worse than usual.

Where was Loras?

Something between hurt, anger and embarrassment set in like teeth. Another soldier grabbed him by the shoulder and teased: “Hey, so that’s your type? Didn’t think you’d be so quick to bend ov—“

Tanner turned at the soldier who looked at him like the he had yanked the tongue clean out of his throat. He put up his hands to his chest in a show of surrender. Tanner snarled, “Where is he? Where is Loras?”

The soldier tried his luck again. “Why, so you can demonstrate your oral abilities?”

He went white as a sheet when Tanner had his eating knife at the soldier’s throat. “I’d say you calm your oral abilities before I remove them. Permanently.” Whatever warmth left in Tanner’s eyes was replaced by indignant fury, out for blood. He repeated his question one last time.

“He’s over by the fires,” the soldier spat out, legs halfway ready to give out. He was used to enemies ready to hack him to size; an ally and fellow soldier wasn’t exactly who he had intended to piss off this early in the morning. Tanner lowered the knife and turned on his heel.

He made a beeline to the fireplaces, boots stomping into the wooden floor. He stalked like a wildcat, ready to pounce and tear limb from bloody limb, finding himself next to a certain blonde and overly cocky (and not particularly handsome in hindsight) knight, glaring down at him. The knight looked up at him, a cocky smirk on his face as he rested his chin on the back of his hand.

“Well, good morning, Tanner. How’d you sleep,” he offered sweet like honey. Tanner wanted to give the world to spit it in his eye.

“What did you say this morning.” His voice was grave, holding his anger in his fists like white-hot coals, the knife shaking in his grip. He didn’t care if his hands were on fire; he was ready to burn the man alive, shove his face into the damn fire to watch him scream as the flames licked off his skin.

Loras looked surprised, letting way to mild amusement. “This morning? I didn’t take you one to care about idle gossip around the camps, always so serious.”

Tanner cut him off. “Don’t skirt the issue; what have you been saying.”

“Goodness, Tanner, I thought we had a rather pleasant evening last night,” Loras started, corners of his eyes crinkling with delight. “You were so sweet, so eager to please, you know; who knew such a cautious, skittish little boy was such a sex kitten in the sack.”

Tanner felt hot in his face, his nostrils flaring even more as Loras spun a lie from his own ego, relishing in Tanner’s humiliation. “Mewling like a wanton queen, I always knew you liked cock, but goodness, not so voraciously. Couldn’t seem to keep your hands off me, practically begging me with that mouth of yours, like that cheap whore of a moth—“

One minute, Loras had his shit-eating grin like he had his cake and ate it too. Somewhere in the slow motion memory and adrenaline-fueled haze, he was up at his feet, fury and agony mashed in his eyes and brow line. His hands had flown up to cover his clearly broken nose, blood dribbling down over his lips, chin and onto the floor. It took a few seconds for pain to register on Tanner’s knuckles, blood smeared on the back of them as testament for the punch.

He didn’t remember feeling his mouth move but he heard his voice say, “The ring. Now. Gather your lance. Don’t bother with your armor.”

It took at most twenty-five minutes, a small procession behind Tanner not unlike schoolboys excited to see a fight at the nearby field. Tanner still had his riding leathers on, his hair done in a sloppier rendition of his usual topknot, curls of his hair falling out the bun and over his ears. He gripped his lance like a throat in a stranglehold, lips in a firm frown. He was ready. Loras had bandaged his nose, gauze bandaged haphazardly over it but still oozing confidence. His victory was certain; he did have more years on him in the army, after all.

“Really, Tanner?” Loras taunted. “A bastard-born greenhorn challenging a knight to a duel of honor? What honor could you possibly have?”

“I don’t lie,” Tanner started, bracing himself to either move, parry or strike at a moment’s notice.

Loras charged first; Tanner parried. The knight expected that much, swinging his blade over. Tanner read the move, ducking and rolling to the side while keeping his lance close to his chest. Loras was puzzled for a moment, but not surprised; it wasn’t too unusual for lancers to wield their weapons like spears. Lancers without training, he snorted to himself.

“You did last night-“ He swung his lance again, his cocky stance making his attacks too wide, too easy to read, too easy to dodge.  He wasn’t taking a single part of this fight seriously, determining he was fighting an indignant, hurt child with wounded pride. Tanner’s face said it for him, the way rage was setting in his eyes; it reminded him of a bull to a slaughter.

He sidestepped, pushing Tanner away, who stumbled but didn’t fall. “When you said you were ready-“

They continued the back and forth, Loras dodging and Tanner attacking; impenetrable force of a man who underestimated the indignity of a boy. “When you said you wanted it-!”

It got quiet. Loras was stunned. Tanner’s lance had ripped through his shirt and shoulder, another nick on his neck. It was too shallow to damage his jugular, but the fact he even went that far made him painfully aware of his situation.

“I don’t attempt to rape one of my brothers at arms.”

And then Loras was thrown like a haystack from a pitchfork.

The knight guarded his shoulder, hissing. The blade had grazed him, but what surprised him was the maneuver. Tanner had caught his shirt, twisted the lance to catch again to be able to have him in a distance hold before throwing him to the side and knocking him to his flank. The knight only had experience of doing that move with a man in armor. His lips set into a firm line; Tanner was good, frighteningly good.

What made it worse was the maneuver proved that Tanner was ready to kill him to prove a point.

Loras drew his sword, parrying Tanner’s swings, knocked back half a pace each time blows were countered. He had gotten sloppy, not counting for Tanner’s footwork with his lance on top of the sheer force he was commanding with his polearm. The way he swung it, not only intent on slicing and eviscerating Loras, but actually hacking him, was more reminiscent of handling a halberd. The counters kept going until Tanner sliced at Loras’ hands, making the man hiss and drop his sword. Some of the men took to retreating to call for backup, someone to stop before things escalated. Tanner had him on the ground, without a weapon, and with intent in his eyes. He raised his weapon, rage replacing inhibitions, pride mercy--

“Tanner, yield!”

The whole army watched, the captain the only person who had the gall and balls to grab Tanner and his lance with his bare hands, not bothering to parry with his sword. The field was silent in awe, Tanner looking at Craster, stunned out of his indignation and brought into the reality of the moment: he was going to murder Loras in cold blood over a spiteful rumor and his wounded pride.

“Explain yourself, boy.”

Tanner was wide-eyed, angry and damn well terrified, the one man who had any right to be considered a father figure to him staring him down and gutting him with cold disappointment. Color drained from his cheeks as he looked down at the rightfully terrified Loras, who was peeking out from under his arm that he had flung to futilely protect himself from an upcoming beheading. His lance was several feet from him to his right, several paces further his sword; if he had tried to grab either weapon, he would’ve been cleaved in half.

“I-I,” Tanner started; gods above, it had been a minute since Craster had been that pissed off at him. “Loras – I, it’s personal, Loras was calling me a pretty bastard whore, lying about – I was defending my honor!” he explained, embarrassment making him trip over his words. He felt the ground wanting to sink under him; he hated being embarrassed, hated disappointing people—

His head snapped to the right as his lance fell, Craster’s right hand flat and crossed over to his left side with his left hand wielding Tanner’s lance. “Defending your honor how? By being a knightslayer on top of being a bastard? For gods’ sake, Tanner, you kill everyone who called you a pretty whore’s bastard, there’d be no one left in the country; fuck, the whole realm!”

He then looked at Loras and said, “I’ll deal with you and your stupid mouth in my quarters.” He then looked at Tanner again. “The both of you – separately, if I can help it.”

---

Allister looked at Tanner, wide-eyed and propped up on one arm. He threw his head back for a belly laugh, watching Tanner tell the story, the way he recounted his embarrassment and sheer loathing of Loras being his typical piece of shit self.  “The hell did you tell Craster?”

“The whole thing, about how Loras tried to pin me down and was trying to assault me. He patted my back and said good job on kicking him off of me and would’ve paid all the gold he was worth to see it. Then he told me that, while I shouldn’t have been alone with Loras, that I had handed his ass so thoroughly that he wouldn’t have thought to antagonize me again. And he was right.”

Tanner had rolled to his back as he recounted the story, looking up in the direction of the ceiling but not focused. His eyes fluttered a hair, closing them as he chuckled. “Can’t believe I almost killed that idiot, thank the gods Craster stopped me. Would’ve taken weeks to clean up the blood.”

Allister looked at the lieutenant for a moment, eying his frame: sturdy as a birch tree, but not as hefty as his own; sharp cheekbones and equally sharp nose; muscles toned, not made from work like his had been. His hands were roughened from the army and from years of attempting to be a leather maker’s apprentice and son, while Allister had always hefted rocks and mortar for his father and brothers, thighs and buttocks cut from years of squatting and heaving the workload. Tanner had the body of a disregarded boy who proved himself to be a man in due time; Allister’s was the body of a boy who was expected to work like a man the day he crawled out of his mother’s womb.

To any other man, it would’ve been humbling that Tanner chose him to share it with. Allister was pleased he was the only one who had any real chance.

He broke the silence. “I suppose Loras is right about something though.”

Tanner scrunched his nose at the comment. “Gods, how?”

“You are quite the little sex kitten,” Allister teased, wrestling on top of the lieutenant and kissing his throat. Tanner came undone when he played with his bare nipples, laughing as Allister made little bites at his throat. “Glad I got to be the one to see it.”

Tanner looked at Allister for a moment, a look in his eyes that radiated something that Allister couldn’t – didn’t want to - place, but felt warm all the same. He pecked the stonemason’s forehead and murmured, “Me too.”

[worldcup2018kazan]

Day 9: Kazan Kremlin II - The Inside Story..

Today we decided to return to the Kazan Kremlin to see some more of it, this time we went inside the Mosque which was beautiful, then more souvenir browsing for the girls on what was an extremely hot day, temperatures in excess of 30 degrees C. After this we then took a horse and carriage ride to Bauman Street to sit outside in a nice restaurant. This place was extremely popular, particularly the outside seating which we struck lucky on and got one of the few unreserved tables.

The restaurant was OK, the girls told me it was part of a chain in Russia and that the food was good, they did appear to have a few dishes that were from the Tatar region but three out of the first four things I ordered they either didn't have or I was told it would take over an hour to prepare; very disappointing, I know it's busy but come on you should be capable of handling your number of covers; worse still we were waiting for our main courses for at least an hour anyway. To be fair the food we did have was good but compared to other restaurants we found I'm ranking this pretty low down on what is a good list.

While we were eating outside I could hear the Russian commentary of the first game of the day playing inside, I didn't see the Belgium vs Tunisia game but at 5-2 it was the expected result and a bit of a goal fest in the process; I'd had a few bets on lots of goals so I was happy with the result.

We returned to the apartment via the store to stock up the refrigerator and had a chilled night in, it's been all go for days and with the weather in excess to 30C and no sign of a let up, we were all pretty tired. This did mean I got to see most of South Korea vs Mexico and the whole Germany vs Sweden matches.

I figured Mexico would win so I had quite a few bets on this and also bets for over 2.5 goals and Hernández to score. The Mexicans went 2-0 up firstly from a penalty slotted away by Vela and then an Hernández strike, their counter attacking play is sublime they move the ball so quickly and fluidly on the break they will be a dangerous opponent for any team. Half of my bets were going to pay so I'd be a bit up but it didn't look like the number of goal bets I'd had would pay, but then 3 minutes in to stoppage time and too late to rescue anything from the game, South Korea's (and Spurs) Son Heung-min hit a 25 yard screamer that curled into the top corner.

Next would be the Germans but before that happened I got some messages and video through from the WhatsApp group showing the Colombians taking over Bauman Street, we'd been there a little earlier but didn't walk that far down.

Having suffered a shock defeat to Mexico in the first game and with Sweden on 3 points thanks to a win over South Korea, although I draw wouldn't mathematically send the Germens out they basically needed a win. The German machine kicked into action creating chance after chance that they just couldn't convert. They press so far up the field as a unit very often only the goalkeeper is in his own half and this leaves them vulnerable to a kick counter attack as Mexico had subjected them too in the first game. Although it's not quite as beautiful as the Spanish style you have to admire how the Germans play and the movement of the ball, although I still think they miss a Klose to give another dimension to their game, something that you could level at Spain in the past but the Spanish now have a firing Diago Costa.

The German pressure grew and grew, but suddenly losing possession around the half way line (so unlike the dependable Toni Kroos) they were hit by a great Swedish move and found themselves 1-0 down. Surely it couldn't happen again!

The first half continued with more and more missed German opportunities, you knew it was going to be a complete onslaught in the second half. Three minutes in to it Marco Reus put them back on terms, he's replaced Ozil, in the starting line up today, who people who know me can confirm I've been banging on about for years saying he's overrated and looks good because of the German team around him, sure he can have the odd good game but I'm definitely not a fan, for me I'd play Reus over him everyday of the week. I digress...

More wave after wave of German attack more opportunities just not quite finished due to the lack of a final ball or deft finish, and all the time more and more prone to a Swedish counter attack, what a great game, it ebbed and flowed. Perhaps not quite as good as that amazing Portugal vs Spain game (yes, I've started putting Portugal now instead of Ronaldo, think I've stressed that point enough), but not far off that game; wonderful for the neutral but probably heart attack material for all the Germans and Swedish in the stadium and on TV.

Then, Boateng sent off late on for a second yellow card, it's still 1-1 the Germans really must win but they have 10 men so the counter attack is now more dangerous to them than ever, but the pressure continues to grow. In typical German style just when you think that's it; the Swedes have held out; they give away a daft free kick which in a pre-worked out move ends with Kroos making amends for his earlier mistake and curling a beauty into the top corner.

The tournament has shown you can put a spanner in the German machine but in true German efficiency they look to be able to make last minute repairs.

For me this just further confirms that rather than South Korea vs Germany for my fourth game in Kazan being a dead rubber its a game the Germans again need to win and possible getting a lot of goals in case goal difference comes into play as the Swedes will play the Mexicans at the same time.

But before that I have a rather tasty Poland vs Colombia game tomorrow to enjoy, I'm expecting so much from it. :)

[perksofwifi]

The 2022 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 Will Pack a Screaming NA V-8 Engine

The frustrating part when writing one of our “What We Know” stories is that the info in it becomes obsolete the moment we know more. Take the upcoming C8 version of the Chevrolet Corvette Z06. Thanks to a source at GM, we now know a lot more about the racier model.

Are you ready? The next Corvette Z06 will have a naturally aspirated 5.5-liter flat-plane twin-cam V-8 that spins to 9,000 rpm. Again, naturally aspirated and redlines at nine grand. Can we get a hallelujah? If we may, a Lamborghini Huracan Evo‘s 10-cylinder engine spins to 8,500 rpm, while the Lambo Aventador SVJ‘s V-12 only hits 8,700 rpm. The Ferrari 812 Superfast? It says 9,000 rpm on the tach, but everyone knows (wink) that its superlative V-12 is only good until 8,900 revs. No, only the discontinued Porsche 911 GT3/GT3 RS/Speedster’s 4.0-liter chunk of rear-mounted perfection spins all the way up to 9,000 rpm. Well, the upcoming 992 GT3’s engine (probably) will, too. As will the new C8 Z06.

How Much Horsepower?

We’re guessing that this, for now, unnamed engine’s output will come in at right around 625 hp, with well over 400 lb-ft of torque (figure 485 lb-ft). Not quite as much as the old Z06’s supercharged 6.2-liter LT4—650 hp/650 lb-ft of torque—but who cares? To use Porsche as an example for a moment, the 911 Turbo makes more power than the 911 GT3. Yet, every car geek wants the GT3. Back to that power for a moment, over 600 naturally aspirated ponies from only 5.5-liters is impressive. Assuming we’re right about the 625 hp number, that means the Z06 will pack 99 horses more than the world’s next most powerful naturally aspirated V-8: the 526-hp Voodoo V-8 found in the Shelby GT350/GT350R. To put this possible 625 hp in perspective, the sadly deceased Dodge Viper cranked out 645 hp from a massive 8.4-liter V-10 engine. To quote our source, the Z06’s engine is, “going to be a screamer.”

Back to the Shelby GT350’s flat-plane Voodoo V-8 (526 hp, 429 lb-ft of torque, redline at 8,250 rpm) for a moment; its 5.2-liter displacement is going to be the closest to the Z06’s. That’s oversized for a flat-plane engine, and Ford deals with this by placing a large, rubber dampener on the non-transmission side of the crankshaft to eat unwanted vibrations. We’re not sure how Chevy is dealing with the unscrew-the-head bolts third-order vibrations inherent to flat-plane V-8s (vibrations that grow more violent as displacement grows), but the bowtie brand has been racing with (essentially) this same, albeit detuned engine (500 hp, 480 lb-ft of torque) in the C8.R, so some sort of solution must exist. Chevrolet had to buy back an awful lot of heat-soaked C7 Z06s thanks to a class-action lawsuit, which led the company to enact much more stringent testing procedures. We bet the big-displacement vibration issue is a non-issue.

Turbo Time?

What about those two turbochargers we thought we knew about? Well, turns out we were right, just about the wrong car. Like Chevy has done for the past two generations, there will be a high-horsepower ZR1 version of the C8. That car will get two turbochargers piped into its 5.5-liter engine (along with all the accompanying cooling hardware). We think 800 hp seems about right from this variant of the twin-cam engine.

There will also be a gasoline-electric hybrid variant that uses the twin-turbo V-8 and at least one electric motor to produce a total system output of 1,000 hp (or more). Expect it to bear the name Zora, after the father of the Corvette, Zora Arkus-Duntov. One sad bit of news (so we hear) is that there will not be a C8 Grand Sport. Why not? We do not know. We’re just hearing it’s not in the cards—don’t shoot the messenger. However, there will be an all-electric Corvette. Unfortunately, we know next to nothing about that model…for now.

The post The 2022 Chevrolet Corvette Z06 Will Pack a Screaming NA V-8 Engine appeared first on MotorTrend.

https://www.motortrend.com/news/2022-chevrolet-corvette-z06-engine/ visto antes em https://www.motortrend.com

[marcusbushellyr2fmp]

Norse Mythology

Norse Mythology is one of my favourite mythologies, the stories are so bizarre and interesting and everything has a reasoning for it. 

Creation mythos:

Before there was soil, or sky, or any green thing, there was only the gaping abyss of Ginnungagap. This chaos of perfect silence and darkness lay between the homeland of elemental fire, Muspelheim, and the homeland of elemental ice, Niflheim.

Frost from Niflheim and billowing flames from Muspelheim crept toward each other until they met in Ginnungagap. Amid the hissing and sputtering, the fire melted the ice, and the drops formed themselves into Ymir (“Screamer”), the first of the godlike but destructive giants. Ymir was a hermaphrodite and could reproduce asexually; when he slept, more giants leapt forth from his legs and from the sweat of his armpits.

As the frost continued to melt, a cow, Audhumla (“Abundance of Humming”), emerged from it. She nourished Ymir with her milk, and she, in turn, was nourished by salt-licks in the ice. Her licks slowly uncovered Buri (“Progenitor”), the first of the Aesir tribe of gods. Buri had a son named Bor (“Son”), who married Bestla (perhaps “Wife”), the daughter of the giant Bolthorn (“Baleful Thorn”). The half-god, half-giant children of Bor and Bestla were Odin, who became the chief of the Aesir gods, and his two brothers, Vili and Ve.

Odin and his brothers slew Ymir and set about constructing the world from his corpse. They fashioned the oceans from his blood, the soil from his skin and muscles, vegetation from his hair, clouds from his brains, and the sky from his skull. Four dwarves, corresponding to the four cardinal points, held Ymir’s skull aloft above the earth.

The gods eventually formed the first man and woman, Ask and Embla, from two tree trunks, and built a fence around their dwelling-place, Midgard, to protect them from the giants.

Norse Mythology for Smart People. 2020. The Creation Of The Cosmos - Norse Mythology For Smart People. [online] Available at: <https://norse-mythology.org/tales/norse-creation-myth/>.

Odin’s Search for Wisdom:

Odin’s quest for wisdom is never-ending, and he is willing to pay any price, it seems, for the understanding of life’s mysteries that he craves more than anything else. On one occasion, he hanged himself, wounded himself with his spear, and fasted from food and drink for nine days and nights in order to discover the runes.

On another occasion, he ventured to Mimir’s Well amongst the roots of the world-tree Yggdrasil. There dwelt Mimir, a shadowy being whose knowledge of all things was practically unparalleled among the inhabitants of the cosmos. He achieved this status largely by taking his water from the well, whose waters impart this cosmic knowledge.

When Odin arrived, he asked Mimir for a drink from the water. The well’s guardian, knowing the value of such a draught, refused unless the seeker offered an eye in return. Odin – whether straightaway or after anguished deliberation, we can only wonder – gouged out one of his eyes and dropped it into the well. Having made the necessary sacrifice, Mimir dipped his horn into the well and offered the now-one-eyed god a drink.

Norse Mythology for Smart People. 2020. Why Odin Is One-Eyed - Norse Mythology For Smart People. [online] Available at: <https://norse-mythology.org/tales/why-odin-is-one-eyed/>.

Mjolnir:

In this story, Loki the trickster finds himself in an especially mischievous mood and cuts off the gorgeous golden hair of Sif, the wife of Thor. Upon learning of Loki's trickery, Thor is enraged and threatens to break every bone in his body. Loki pleads with Thor and asks for permission to go down to Svartalfheim, the cavernous home of the dwarves, to see if these master craftspeople could fashion a new head of hair for Sif. Thor is convinced and sends Loki to Svartalfheim.

Upon his arrival, Loki is able to complete his promise to Thor as The Sons Ivaldi forge not only a new head of hair for Sif, but also two other marvels: Skidbladnir, the best of all ships, and Gungnir, the deadliest of all spears. Having accomplished his task, Loki remains in the caves with the intention of causing mayhem. He approaches the brothers Brokkr and Sindri and taunts them, saying that he is sure the brothers could never forge three creations equal in caliber to those of the sons of Ivaldi, even betting his head against their lack of ability. Brokkr and Sindri, being prideful dwarves, accept the wager and begin their creation of three marvels.

The first begins with Sindri putting a pig's skin in the forge and telling Brokkr to work the bellows nonstop until his return. Loki, in disguise as a fly, comes and bites Brokkr on the arm to ensure the brothers lose their bet. Nevertheless, Brokkr continues to pump the bellows as ordered. When Sindri returns and pulls their creation from the fire, it is revealed to be a living boar with golden hair which they name Gullinbursti. This legendary creature gives off light in the dark and runs better than any horse, even through water or air.

Next, Sindri puts gold in the forge and gives Brokkr the same order. Loki comes again, still in the guise of a fly, and bites Brokkr's neck, this time twice as hard to ensure the brothers lose the bet. Brokkr, however, continues to work the bellows despite the pain. When Sindri returns they draw out a magnificent ring which they name Draupnir. From this ring, every ninth night, eight new golden rings of equal weight emerge.

Finally, Sindri puts iron in the forge and repeats his previous order once more. Loki comes a third time and bites Brokkr on the eyelid even harder, the bite being so deep that it draws blood. The blood runs into Brokkr's eyes and forces him to stop working the bellows just long enough to wipe his eyes. This time, when Sindri returns, he takes Mjölnir out of the forge. The handle is shorter than Sindri had originally planned which is the reason for the hammer's iconic imagery as a one handed weapon throughout Thor's religious iconography. Nevertheless, the pair are sure of the great worth of their three treasures and they make their way to Asgard to claim the wages due to them.

Loki makes it to the halls of the gods just before the dwarves and presents the marvels he has acquired. To Thor he gave Sif's new hair and the hammer Mjollnir. To Odin, the ring Draupnir and the spear Gungnir. Finally to Freyr he gives Skidbladnir and Gullinbursti.

As grateful as the gods were to receive these gifts they all agreed that Loki still owed his head to the brothers. When the dwarfs approach Loki with knives, the cunning god points out that he had promised them his head but not his neck, ultimately voiding their agreement. Brokkr and Sindri contented themselves with sewing Loki's mouth shut and returning to their forge.

En.wikipedia.org. 2020. Mjölnir. [online] Available at: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mj%C3%B6lnir>.

Loki’s Children:

HEL – Daughter of Loki and Angrbotha

Ruler of a realm that bears her name, Hel was believed to be a death goddess. To “go to Hel” was to die, specifically off the battlefield of illness or old age. The Norse believed that all those who died off the glorious field of war would be denied entry to Odin’s great feasting hall of Valhalla, and would instead freeze for all eternity in Hel.

Hel was believed to have a face split into two halves, one of them beautiful and the other hideously ugly. An enemy of Odin, Hel  and her many servants were believed to fight as part of the army of Loki and the giants at Ragnarok.

JORMUNGANDR – Son of Loki and Angrbotha

Believed to be a truly colossal snake, Jormungandr (literally “Enormous monster”) lived in the great ocean that was believed to encircle Midgard – the Norse word for the world of mortals, and the middle of the nine worlds (this is where Tolkein got Middle Earth from). The snake, so the Norse believed, held the earth in place by wrapping himself all the way around it with his tail in his mouth, and when Jormungandr eventually let go the world would end.

Jormungandr was thought to have a bitter rivalry with Thor, son of Odin and god of thunder, and they encountered one another three times:

The first sees Jormungandr disguised as an enormous cat, and Thor faces with the challenge of lifting so massive a creature. The god cannot lift so gigantic a being as Jormungandr, but can lift him sufficiently high that one of his four paws leaves the ground – described by the king of the giants as an impressive achievement.

The second time Jormungandr and Thor meet, the thunder god is fishing with the giant Hymir, using the heads of oxen as bait. Jormungandr bites one of the heads, and Thor pulls him up, partially out of the water. Jormungandr, dripping in blood and venom, makes Hymir pull back in terror. As Thor prepares to kill the snake with his hammer, Mjolnir, Hymir cuts the fishing line and allows Jormungandr to slither back beneath the surface of the water.

The third and final encounter between Jormungandr and Thor occurs during Raganrok, the great final battle that ends the world. Jormungandr will finally leave the oceans and poison the sky. He and Thor will then battle one another fiercely until Jormungandr is finally struck dead by Mjolnir. Thor will then take nine steps forward before dropping dead himself, Jormungandr’s venom having killed him.

FENRIR – Son of Loki and Angrbotha

Just as Jormungandr is a giant snake, so Fenrir is a giant wolf. Terrified of what Fenrir might be able to do if left unchecked, the gods decided to bind the great wolf, but found that he broke every rope and chain used. In the end, the dwarves fashioned a magical, unbreakable ribbon called Gleipnir, made from the sound of cat’s footfall, the beard of a woman, the spit of a bird, the breath of a fish, the roots of a mountain and the nervousness of a bear – the reason none of these six things exist, according to Norse mythology, is that they all went into the making of Gleipnir. However, Fenrir refused to be bound unless one of the gods put their hand in his mouth while it was happening. Tyr, the war god, eventually agreed to be the one to place his hand in the wolf’s mouth. When he discovered he could not break Gleipnir, Fenrir bit Tyr’s hand off.

Fenrir was thought to be a father himself. His two sons, Skoll (Treachery) and Hati (Hate), chase the sun and the moon across the sky – the Norse explanation for why we have day and night. Furing Ragnarok, the two sons of Fenrir will finally catch and devour their prey.

Fenrir himself was believed to be one of the participants in one of the greatest duels in all of Norse mythology. During Ragnarok, he will personally fight Odin, the chief god of the Norse pantheon – and he will win. Fenrir will kill Odin by swallowing him whole, but will then himself be killed by Vithar, Odin’s son and the god of vengeance.

SLEIPNIR – Son of Loki and Svathlifari

Loki is Sleipnir’s mother, having taken the form of a mare and mated with the stallion Svathlifari (“Unlucky traveller”). The result of this union was Sleipnir, an eight-legged horse ridden by Odin. The fastest and best of all horses, Sleipnir was even able to travel to Hel, and took the god Hermothr there to ransom for the god Baldyr’s soul.

Depictions of Sleipnir are incredibly common across Scandinavia, Iceland and those parts of Britain and Ireland most affected by Viking invasions. Almost always, every one of Sleipnir’s legs is visible, and Odin can be seen sitting on his back.

NARFI – Son of Loki and Sigyn

Not much is known of Narfi, except that he was killed by his half-brother Vali, who had been transformed into a wolf. Later, during Loki’s punishment by the gods for his many crimes and misdemeanours, especially causing the death of Baldyr, Narfi’s guts are used to bind his father.

VALI – Son of Loki and unknown mother

Like Narfi, we do not know very much about Vali and his role in Norse mythology. All that is known for certain is that he was a son of Loki and was transformed by the gods into a wolf, in which form he killed his half-brother Narfi.

The Herodotus History Blog. 2020. Norse Mythology – The Children Of Loki. [online] Available at: <https://herodotushistoryblog.wordpress.com/2016/04/07/norse-mythology-the-children-of-loki/>.