#two birds on a wire | phoenix & miles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeoldontknow · 7 years ago

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Torque (M)

Author’s Note: here we go! welcome to day 1 of chanvember!! i hope everyone enjoys <333 Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Summary: As a stunt driver, you’re used to seeing men come to the track looking for a quick, easy high. But in Chanyeol, you never expected to find your equal. Genre: smut Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit language; explicit sex; public sex; dirty talk Word Count: 9,217

CHANYEOL

There’s something they don’t tell you about driving when you’re a kid, when you put posters on your wall of all the cars you wished were women; eight years old and already begging to be a man. There are things they don’t tell you about Italian sports cars, about chrome engines and black leather.

When you learn to drive, you’re lead to believe you are the one in control, that it’s you with the power and the skill and the magic. Always, this is done in your best interest. Always, this is done to keep you safe.

Always, this is utter bullshit.

The car wants you dead.

It wants to eat your bones for dinner, absorb your blood into the fresh red of its paint, and make your skin its rubber. Handling a Ferrari is you, no helmet, no armor, no eject button, fondling death between your legs and beneath your feet. The car will throw you on a turn, the car will bend you. Your palms will sweat into the steering wheel and it will drink your anxiety, getting drunk solely on you, and you feel it. You always feel it. It’s that lurch in your chest, your lips parting on an inhale, the pressing of your hips into the leather telling you this could be the end.

They don’t tell you this, and, if they do, not in these exact words.

They don’t tell you this because they know it will get you high. It’s their best kept secret: taking a turn at 180 miles per hour feels better than a line of blow; releasing the clutch to turn feels more exhilarating than free falling from an airplane.

They don’t tell you driving is a drug. They never tell you because they know you will get addicted.

I figured this out on my own when I was eighteen and bored. I had a friend - a rich fucker whose father bought him extravagant things thinking surely this is what it means to love my kid - who owned a fleet. Trust me, a goddamn fleet. Rows and rows of cars he would never have enough time to drive in a day, in a wasted lifetime. I kept telling him I wished my dad loved me like that, loved me enough to spend money, loved me enough to acknowledge I was a living, breathing thing. He kept telling me I could take his dad, could take everything, because he didn’t matter to him. I don’t remember this kid’s name anymore, but, really, he’s not the point.

The point is that he told me I could take and the point is that I did.

The first girl I ever kissed was small, petite and wilting, kind of like a flower. We were twelve and she had tits. The first girl I ever fucked was a punk, total metal head, and she fucked like she wanted us both to burn and not once did I think it was hell. We were sixteen and I nicknamed her Phoenix.

The first sports car I ever drove was a Ferrari California, Italian bird with sexy curves and a hard edge that made her ferocious, a real force to be reckoned with. I was eighteen, named her Aisha, and I stole her. Right under his nose too, didn’t even notice I’d taken her. Probably assumed his dad returned it and barely noticed when her space got taken up with another masterpiece he would never touch.

Aisha was mine and Aisha was reckless and Aisha wanted to break me.

I let her.

She tore down the highway, away from her captives, with a speed that I’ve come to define as spirited. Looking back, I don’t know why she didn’t kill me. I had no idea how to drive, I mean really drive. I’m not talking city driving, casual Sunday cruising, even the occasional friendly drag race with the car next to you at a light. No, I’m talking counting the seconds before you release the clutch and wait to turn. I’m talking connecting with a car so intensely you know it so intimately, so passionately, it tells you precisely how to handle every imaginable terrain. I had barely just been granted my license, but I realized, as I felt myself get hard over the seamless dual clutch, that I was made for this.

Aisha was the car that broke me.

Clara was the car that let me break her. A steel grey Aston Martin Vanquish with a roar that would make any grown man whine, she was the car that bent to my will. She handled like a princess, called me honey when I started her up, and always stayed pretty for me.

By the time I was 28, I’d broken over two hundred cars, become a stunt driver, and fallen into the habit of breaking women. Good girls who think they like the taste of reckless things between their teeth.

What can I say, I’m an addict.

You had just moved to Vegas for a job when you met him, were missing New York and the gloom and the cold, when he arrived at the track. There he stood, all sunshine, bow legs, and caramel skin, thirsty for some gasoline in his blood. The track was unfamiliar, one you’d never driven, one you’d never even heard of, which made it the ideal place to practice.

It excited you, the unfamiliarity. Always you believed to truly open up a car, to really see what you and it are capable of, you first have to free yourself of expectation. There can be absolutely no anticipation of a turn, no knowledge of your terrain. Always, it comes down to trust - of yourself and of the machine.

And so he was the first person you saw as you came down from an adrenaline rush bottled inside a Huracan, fingers shaking from the traditional violence of the Lambo gearshift. He was watching you intently, studying the way you got out of the car and shook off the terror, the joy, the fear. You looked right at him because you knew - you always knew.

Kids come to the track for a thrill and always wind up half-hard with wet mouths and dry throats. Men come to the track hoping to reclaim the stamina of their youth, drive fast to forget their wives, their partners, the dull sex, the screaming kids; come to get hard and get fucked by a sleek paint job and a set of carbon brakes.

But the way he looked at you felt different - already imagining getting his dick wet, yet somehow hypnotized by your existence. Though, you didn’t know if it was you or the car that had power over him. Not that it mattered, at this point you were one and the same.

Three track employees stood beside him, one of whom was waiting for you. You tried remembering his name; he was the one who handed you the keys and took your ID, but your brain had been thoroughly wiped. Coming back to reality took focus, took regulated breathing, and you had neither of those things. You were a live wire, you were sparked. You thought his name was Jim, but who knows really.

You stood beside Probably Jim as you took off your gloves, running a hand through your hair and wiping away the sweat that had pooled at your hairline. Your fingers were shaking and your breath rattled in your lungs, esophagus becoming carbon piping. The feeling of it all, the sheer thrill of it, made you smile.

‘Was that the Huracan?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of the car.

You glanced over at him, smiling politely before dropping your gaze to your feet. It hurt to look at him, impossible; painful to stare at the sun too long, not while on a high, and certainly not while wet.

‘Yeah,’ you said, simply, unable to offer anything more.

‘What was it like?’ He was eager for details, and conversation, and all the things you did not have the energy to give him.

Any other track, any other car, even an Audi R8 Spyder, you’d have told him everything. You’d have waxed poetic until sundown about how driving that car felt like plummeting into hell and waiting for Jesus Christ himself to give you wings. But it was this track, in a Lamborghini, a car so dead set on killing you it reminded you of your mortality at every gear change, and you just didn’t have the linguistic capacity to satisfy him.

‘Dangerous.’ You almost sighed it, like you were breathing into the ear of a sleeping lover, waiting for them to wake up so you could fuck them again.

He furrowed his brow, almost looking offended. ‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’ That’s all it needed to be.

He laughed like he was laughing at a child, at someone who had said something terribly silly and he wanted to make them feel good. ‘Alright, sure.’

You admitted to yourself, then and against your better judgement, that he was pretty. Extremely pretty. Gorgeous, even. Skinny jeans and a black v-neck shirt, looking like he’d walked off a runway and turned up there just to get a fix - a pitstop before more blow, or Molly, or whatever the fuck the modeling agencies were pushing. He was pretty, but chatty, a trait which usually turned you off, though it seemed to suit him, like a perfume bottled in optimism.

‘Have you ever driven a Lamborghini?’

You had to ask, because, for any experienced driver, your answer would have garnered a laugh of understanding or a slap on your back for even giving the car a go. But this was different, his intention was off and seemingly unrelated to the car itself. It felt like a challenge, it felt like a risk - it felt like an invitation.

‘Yes,’ he said, flatly. He pulled off his aviators and looked you straight in the eye, like he was waiting for you to wither beneath its intensity.

Instead, you smiled under his scrutiny, all teeth and motive, and pictured the wind blowing through his hair. ‘Then that’s it.’

You turned back to Probably Jim and handed him the keys. ‘Bring me the McLaren MP4-12C.’

Probably Jim chuckled, taking the keys and writing numbers on his clipboard. ‘Someone wants to drive hard today.’

You rolled your eyes, flexing your fingers to ease the tension. ‘Someone wants to drive hard without killing themselves.’

The McLaren would reset you. It would be comfortable, easy, and protective. Two tires going off the track would be smooth - you would be more startled tripping over your own feet. It would be a tame drive, a gentle drive, as gentle as a drive could be at 160.

Probably Jim was nodding and talking into a radio, listing license plate numbers and inventory codes, arranging the intake of the Huracan and the delivery of the McLaren. The track was bigger than most you had been too, had a much larger selection, and far better staff. Bested the ones you’d drove in Florida with ease, made the ones in California look like toy models, but still could not compare the track in New York. An armada of cars available for rental and diving, a hoard of highly trained staff. That was the dream. You had been spoiled. But you could get used to Vegas, especially with their more exotic selection.

‘Can I get the Hennessy Venom, or do you not have one here?’

His question broke your train of thought, stunned you in a way that felt pleasant and arousing. He sounded confident in his selection, said the words like he knew the weight and the meaning - knew exactly what he was asking for and was ready to let it pull at him. It was nice, the idea that you had misjudged him entirely. For a moment, you thought he really could bend you, even thought you might let him. Eyeing him conspicuously, you hummed, attempting to reassess all the pieces of him, watched with interest as he turned into an enigma right before your eyes.

He rounded on you then, brow furrowed and looking as though you had insulted him.

‘Do you have something to say?’ he hissed with a frown.

‘No,’ you said, nonchalantly, ‘only that I’m impressed.’

‘Excuse me?’ He put his hands on his hips indignantly and blinked at you, annoyed.

‘You want to drive a Venom?’ you pressed smoothly, crossing your arms.

‘Yeah,’ he smiled, looking you up and down as though he had misjudged you, too. ‘You think I can’t take it?’

You couldn’t help it, the smile that spread across your features like wildfire. On your lips it felt partly vicious and partly curious, eager to taste all his edges and eager to see him near breaking. He was living for it the way you were, the excitement of keeping death between his knees and telling it to go to hell - living violently and at the limit of his very existence. All at once, you saw him, not as a man, but as someone just as reckless as you. Immediately, you wanted all of him dripping over your tongue, trapped against the roof of your mouth.

‘It’s fast,’ you said, indicating everything and yet, somehow, not nearly enough with your tone.

‘Too fast,’ he countered, his smile becoming impish and teasing while his voice became distant.

‘Just fast enough.’

Minutes seemed to pass as you held one another’s gaze, but you did not notice them, not really. You were getting lost in one another, in the possibility of one another, in the idea of an equal. He became a complexity, something for you to take apart and study, something to relearn, and in his eyes you saw how he start to reconsider you. No longer were you an oddity, instead you were a rarity, woman unafraid to be ugly in the clutches of adrenaline.

‘Uh,’ the guy coughed, breaking the tension that had built between you, ‘yeah, we don’t have a Venom here. Breaks speed regulation.’

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes from you to glance at the staff member, before looking back with a wicked, excited expression. Behind his eyes, he was processing everything, remaking who he was in the presence of you.

Then, he pointed at you with the hand holding his sunglasses, an action usually jarring, confrontational, and unwelcome but on him it seemed almost friendly. You thought maybe you should act intimidated, but mostly, all you wanted to do was kiss him.

‘Who are you?’ he asked, sounding slightly breathless.

‘I’m Y/N,’ you said, beaming.

‘No,’ he laughed, shaking his head, ‘what are you? It’s rare to see a woman here. Not to sound sexist, I’m just being straight with you.’

‘And what are you?’ you countered, gently with a cock of your eyebrow. ‘Someone toying with cars to make up for their dick?’

It was risky, you knew, teasing him like this instead of making it easy, but everything about it felt like a game - everything about him felt like a game. Had you been a gambler, you’d have called it a sport. In the wake of your words, you waited, almost breathless, for his answer. He could turn on you, reveal himself to be utterly unlike you had started to imagine, but you felt he was kindred, you felt connected, and so you knew he’d like it: the possibility of sex just as exhilarating as raw tangibility of driving.

If he was anything like you, he’d eat it up like it was laid on a silver spoon.

‘I’m here to get high.’

His words, the way he let them glide off his tongue, made the hair on your arms stand on end. ‘Me, too.’

‘I’m here to forget,’ he tried, stepping closer to you with a glimmer in his eye.

‘Me, too,’ you murmured, moving to match his steps.

Seeing you come closer somehow emboldened him, made his voice deeper, richer, like he was proud he got to chase you. ‘I do it for a living.’

Cocking your head to the side, you smiled. He could have left it at this - you could have stopped here and been pleased with the result. At that moment, he admitted he was just like you, even if he didn’t have the same lived experience. All that mattered, in the end, was the white knuckled feeling of connection.

But still, you spoke. ‘Me, too.’

‘You race?’

You shook your head, glad that he looked at you as though he was hungry. His eyes were wide, eager, inferring things about you just from the sight of your composed posture and the sweat glistening on your neck - not anxious, but intoxicated. He didn’t read you like he was bewildered by these things, merely like he knew everything you were feeling. He knew and he wanted it all for himself, and all over again.

‘Stunt driver,’ you clarified, though a lot of the time you struggled to see the difference between the two. Most times, you weren’t racing people, only racing yourself and your limits.

He chuckled, nodding in understanding. ‘Me, too.’

In silence you waited for surprise to settle over you like dust from the track, but it never came. It made sense, then, why he knew the car and why he looked at you as though he knew you; why you felt connected the moment you saw him, why you noticed him at all.

For a moment, he narrowed his eyes, squinted like he was sizing you up and wondering if you had limits - wondering what those limits were. You held his stare with ease, doing the same in the back of your mind but mostly you pictured his hands on you.

Eventually his face relaxed, and he smiled, the first real smile you’d seen on him. Not one of awe or interest, just genuine kindness that poured out of his cheeks, brilliant like you were ascending dawn. It was everything you could do not to bend over the hood of the Huracan in anticipation of his chest against your back and the hard length of his cock against your ass. You smirked, knowing the hood was wide enough to take it.

‘I think we got off on the wrong foot,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘I’m Chanyeol.’

Regarding his extended hand, you hesitated. It wasn’t that you wanted to be rude, wasn’t that you were even trying to seduce him by being coy, though, sometimes, looking back, you think you were. The reality was that he was going to feel you shaking, your fingers still pulsing with adrenaline. But you gave him your hand anyway and stomached it, because, no matter what, he was going to feel it too.

‘Look,’ you said, pulling your hand back quickly. All at once, your brain was running, racing towards an idea and it was appealing, arousing in all its implication. You wanted him to take the opportunity and run with it, run with you to the ends of the universe. ‘If you really want a car like the Venom you should try the Koenigsegg Agera. Same speed, brakes are the same size, and it weighs almost the same. Won’t stop as quickly as the Venom, but it’ll grip the track enough so you won’t feel like you’re driving on a glacier.’

‘Nice choice,’ he said, not bothering to comment on your knowledge. Had he done so, it would have felt like an insult.

Glancing to the guy next to him, he simply raised his eyebrows in expectation, waiting for him to respond as though he had been listening the whole time. The guy nodded and Chanyeol shifted his entire posture, closing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders back in anticipation of being shaken down to his core.

‘I’ll let you race me.’

You were desperate for him to say yes. Always, this is how it started, always where it would begin. That edge of breaking a man and reducing him to water in your hands, unmaking them with the flick of an ignition.

And you could see it in his eyes too, the same feeling, the rush of breaking a woman and making her into something that fit the contours of his lifestyle. It was different for him, you think, because you’d already been molded into his shape. Rather than thinking of taking you, he looked at you like you were something to earn.

The suggestion made a wolfish grin play at his features, and you imagined him already getting hard.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ you encouraged with a slight shrug, ‘it’ll be fun. Haven’t had a race with someone in ages.’

‘What are the stakes?’

‘Me.’

When he smiled, he showed you his teeth, like he was whetting his tongue against his cheek and waiting to feast on your essence. ‘Don't reduce yourself into a prize.’

The game was on. He wasn’t adamant enough, wasn’t protesting enough. Propositions like the one you had given him are seductive, lingering on the edge of possibility long enough that there’s always a chance, a probable element of hope, to make a person think this could turn me into something great. Already, he was weighing the risk in his mind, trying to balance the value of his ego with the level of his skill and the glimmer in his eyes told you both were on par to win.

You walked over to him, then, this time close enough to really see his features, the silk of his skin, the tendons in his neck, and the lines of his collarbone, and you knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, you could call him a stallion.

‘Well then,’ you said softly, leaning up to whisper in his ear, ‘prove that I’m not.’

He reared back from you and laughed, loud and boisterous and violent, because he was young and excited and ready to break some rules. It was then that you saw him for who he truly was, someone bold and dangerous and flawed - someone just like you. In your stomach, the sound of his laugh made arousal start to pool, the clench of your thighs involuntarily imagining him nestled in between.

Chanyeol wanted to break the world with his bare hands, and he wanted to break it with you.

‘And what will you drive?’ he questioned, fully aware that his car would outmatch yours in less than a second.

You looked back at Probably Jim. ‘Hey, can we forget the McLaren? Is it already on its way over?’

‘You sure?’ he frowned, unwilling to put in a change over so soon. ‘I mean, yeah,’ he sighed, ‘it’s only just been prepped. What would you want instead?’

You smiled, standing tall as you told him your choice. ‘I want the Bugatti Vitesse.’

By the time you got to the parking lot, his hand was buried in your back pocket and cupping the cheek. You'd draped your arm around his neck like he’d been yours for years, like he was your trophy. In a way he was, and in a way you should have been used to him. You’d won the likes of him before, on countless different tracks, in countless different cars - boys with different names and ages but always the same traits. Power hungry speed junkies who looked nothing like you in the mirror but were exactly like you in all the ways that mattered.

When you got to his car, he pushed you against the passenger side back door, ran his hands over the curve of your ass with a low laugh. He didn’t seem to mind that you'd pressed your hands against the tinted window, leaving smears of want as your fingers slid for purchase. Even with a quick once over, you could tell the glass had seen its fair share of prints.

Chanyeol had been your equal in every way imaginable, handled the beast of a car like it was designed just for him, for his long legs and his strong hands. Seeing him drive was what made you go from wanting to needing him, from fantasizing about his hips between your thighs to demanding he let you stain the leather of his seats.

‘Shit,’ you whined when he nipped at your neck, tongue swiping hot along the skin the moment his teeth disappeared. Against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you could feel him smile as you shivered.

‘What car is this?’ you purred, not having paid attention to the make or the model. ‘A Maserati?’

He was breathless as you ground back against his hips, relishing the hardness of his dick trapped beneath his jeans. You wanted him to call you kitten, wanted him to pet you dry.

‘Grantourismo,’ he groaned, pressing you harder against him as he thrust forward, hissing between grit teeth. ‘Red interior. V12. Custom.’ His words were clipped as he bent once more to lap at the nape of your neck, moving one hand reluctantly to fumble for his keys.

‘Only arrogant pricks would have this car, clearly for compensating for something,’ you laughed, teasing him, and you hated that it sounded almost like you were panting. He pressed himself against you and then against his car, and, instinctively, you pushed back against him only to grind against the smooth paint of the door, attempting to fuck yourself between the two.

Behind you, you could hear his resolve starting to dissipate, moans being held back in his chest and tearing into the atmosphere as heavy sighs. You reached back and grabbed him through his trousers, a cruel chuckle escaping your throat as he moaned and pressed his forehead against the nape of your neck. His dick was hot and heavy beneath your palm, already trying to rip through the denim of his jeans.

‘Only ignorant pricks insult this car, filled with too many wet dreams to handle something tangible,’ he whispered into your ear before licking the shell, teasing the lobe gently between his teeth. Against your wish, a keening whine moved through your chest forcing you to bite your lip to keep quiet.

In an instant he turned you around to face him, grabbed your ass with the flat of his palms and lifted as though you were weightless. Naturally, you wrapped your legs around his waist as his body stepped forward to push you back against the car. Surrounded by him as you were, you bit at his jaw, licking and sucking at the skin of his neck, and not once did he stop grinding into you.

‘Show me something tangible,’ you whispered, dipping down to suck roughly on his Adam’s apple.

‘Get in the fucking car,’ he said gruffly, releasing you, letting you slide down the door before he threw it open.

Momentarily you felt embarrassed for the speed at which you dove in, but he followed suit quickly, coming to settle between your already spread legs as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Within seconds the heat and tension inside the car was unbearable. You finally got to see him, really see him, and his windswept hair, his flushed chest, his almond eyes, the freckle on his nose. Something about him seemed almost delicate, like breaking him or riding him meant you’d shatter this persona, but you knew it was your own arrogance that made you see him this way. It was like looking at yourself, the way his veins pulsed in his neck as though his blood had turned to liquid gold. It made you want to kiss him, so you did.

You cupped his cheek with your right hand and kissed him, soft, gentle, and completely unlike you, completely unlike this was meant to be, but he didn’t protest. Chanyeol moved into it, warm lips sucking on yours until you decided you’d had enough. Pulling his head back only marginally, he opened his mouth just enough to let his tongue dart out and graze yours. Suddenly you became aware of your breathing, the uneven patterns and the almost complete stillness surrounding the rest of the little world built inside the car.

The moment your walls came down was the moment he drove his tongue into your mouth, full force and absolutely desperate to swallow you whole. You moved your hand back to fist in his the thick strands of his hair as the other pushed him back to settle in his lap, working its way under his shirt. You pressed your fingers into the bones of his spine in the rhythm he had set to massage your mouth. It was a mutual gift, and he hummed, low and deep, sending vibrations through your body.

Straddling him, you angled yourself to grind down against him and, after the third rock of your hips into his, his fingers started to knead your neck, hips thrusting up against your center. The motion of his body was slow, full of purpose and filled with intent. He’d developed his own goal, his own endgame, and every roll of his hips, every graze of his cock against your clothed folds made the muscles of your thighs start to ache. As starved as you were, this wasn’t how you wanted him.

‘Look,’ you said, pulling back. At the loss of contact with your lips, he released a soft whine that almost made you want to apologize. Almost. ‘You keep doing that and I’m gonna have to ride your thigh, which is the exact opposite of where and how I want to come.’

He nodded, sliding you off his lap with a small grin. He settled back against the opposite door and bit his lip, looking you up and down, as though pleased with his consolation prize. You recognized him as someone who had done this before, whose search for power and money always ended with sex somewhere nameless, and you were nothing new for him. Merely different. Merely exciting. Merely operating at his speed.

‘Take off your jeans,’ you ordered, instinctively grinding down into the seat to keep your arousal high.

He glanced around, sliding his tongue along the bottom of his teeth as he considered the area. ‘Gonna be tight,’ he laughed, though he didn’t seem phased by the challenge.

With your legs slightly tangled, you shifted up onto your knees to let his legs extend by your sides, one angled to the floor and the other lifted to drape his calf over the back seat.

‘At least get them down to your ankles.’

Chanyeol complied like an eager puppy, like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do in his life, but you wanted him to move slower. You found wanted to do it yourself.

‘Let me,’ you whispered.

His hands stilled and he set his head against the window, luxuriating in the heat, the tension, the desire. Licking his lips, he reached a hand into your hair, carding his fingers through its thickness, as you bought your hands to his belt.

It was important to you that you move with an air of gentleness, that you made it a point to touch the skin above his belt. Your fingers idly traced the waistline of his jeans, teasing the skin with your fingertips, before you made it to the buckle itself. At the ministrations of your touch, he shuddered, closing his eyes with a sigh as he basked in the feel of your light grazes. The sight of him like this, lost and wanton, made wetness pool in your underwear, your thighs clenching around nothing once more.

‘You were good out there,’ you breathed, suddenly needing to say something. You felt as though you were too wet, felt that he was too much. You couldn’t wait to handle him, but still you took your time, pacing yourself.

‘Hmm?’ he hummed, dazed by your touch and keeping his eyes closed.

‘On the track,’ you clarified, pulling the belt through loop after loop, slowly and confidently. ‘First time I’ve felt challenged in years.’

‘You still won though.’ His words came out in a slight wheeze as you undid the button to his jeans. He didn’t sound upset, rather he sounded pleased, glad for the bruise to his ego, letting it turn you into something enticing.

‘I was in a Bugatti.’ You tugged his zipper downwards, smiling at his red briefs - they matched the car’s interior perfectly.

‘Had you been in the McLaren I would have won.’

‘Why do you think I chose the Bugatti?’ you countered with a wink, flaying his jeans wide, and toying with the elastic waistband at his hipbones.

‘I think you’re just trying to get into my pants,’ he whined, with a pout.

‘I’m already in your pants.’

And with that, you shoved your hand down his briefs and took hold of him. His hips bucked into your palm and his head slid slowly back against the window. He was cursing, muttering expletives, and it only fueled your fire. You held him tightly, dragging your hand from the base to the tip and back down again. There was a rock to his hips, a slight rhythm in an effort to bring you closer and make you move faster. You held his hip with your other hand, pressing down to keep him still. This was yours, this moment of pleasure belonged to you. Things had moved fast, the way you both normally liked things to be, but, at that moment, you wanted the world to stop.

The fingers in your hair moved down your temples and across your cheek, coming to pause at your lips where they lightly traced your bottom lip with a gentle thumb, a slow graze of touching and a mouth that was sighing and suddenly you lost all sense of space and time. Down and down his hand went, a feather touch along your throat setting you aflame, and coming to trace collar of your shirt.

In appreciation, you ran your thumb over his slit, already leaking with precome. His hand clenched into fists, one wrapping itself in your shirt and the other dragging across the leather seat until his nails were digging into his palm. A moan, sounding almost tortured, ripped through his chest and seemed to echo through the car. Your was proud. This was yours. This was in your control.

The hands at your shirt moved hastily down to your jeans as he leaned forward, displaying the same eagerness as when he got into the Koenigsegg. You leaned back onto your heels and watched him go to work, but refused to remove your hand from his cock. There was no belt for him to work through, no extra barrier, just a meagre button and his hand. Soft moans kept slipping through his lips but his eyes were alight, all mischief and mayhem.

‘Your fucking mouth,’ you whispered. It transfixed you, the way his lips were swollen without any stimulation, just the rush of blood beneath the skin.

‘What about my fucking mouth?’ he mumbled, undoing the button of your jeans with ease.

‘It’s fucking mesmerizing,’ was your gasped reply, words splintering as his own fingers moved along the band of your underwear.

‘Funny,’ he teased, watching the flutter of your eyelids as he lowered his leg to push you closer, fingers wandering beneath your underwear - everywhere but where you wanted them most. ‘I feel the same way about yours.’

Biting your lip as he gently moved down your mound, you instinctively thrust into his touch. ‘Imagine it wrapped around your dick.’

A wicked smile played at his lips, delicate fingers gliding down to drag along your slit. ‘Already have.’

You wanted to say something, wanted to counter him with your own admission - that, from the moment you saw him, you’d been tasting the underside of his dick on your tongue like a phantom limb. At that moment, you would have said anything to turn the image into a reality, but he pushed you back, pushed you off him, and moved so quickly you had no time to react.

Your hands moved to clutch the seat as he adjusted, fisting his hands in the waistband of your underwear and jeans, tugging them down your legs as though he were tearing you free. Chanyeol moved like the backseat of his car was his home, like he’d maneuvered this way so many times the action came naturally, and, much the same, your body assumed the shape of his car and let him take the lead as though it had been waiting for him after all this time.

‘Take off your shirt,’ he demanded, and instantly you obeyed, lifting the fabric over your head and letting it drop to the floor unceremoniously.

Following suit, Chanyeol tugged the cotton of his shirt up and off, leaving himself exposed. The hard lines of his muscles were tantalizing, the veins in his arms pronounced and raising the skin of his biceps like small trails of want. He didn’t flinch under your gaze, didn’t even blush, just sat before you, pleased and eager as he too drank you in.

‘Bra too,’ he said, nodding towards the black lace.

As your fingers undid the clasp of your bra, you suddenly became acutely aware that you were in a car in a parking lot. True, the windows were tinted dark, toeing the line between legal and conspicuous, but still any passing stranger would be able to see your shadows, hear your voices. The thought spurred you on, sent a shock of arousal between your thighs that found you grinding down to satisfy your need for pressure.

Dropping your bra to the floor with your shirt, you sat before him just as he did you, proud and unwavering. He licked his lips in desire, cocking an eyebrow as a challenge to temptation - yours and his - but you remained unmoved. Seemingly pleased with your tempered stoicism, he moved forward slowly, crawling towards you with a thick haze of need clouding his vision.

‘Is this a habit for you?’ you gasped, closing your eyes as he brought his mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your skin. It was a sharp contrast, the burning torch of his mouth compared with the cool leather of his seats. Already, you could feel yourself sticking, the wetness from your center dripping to leave a stain.

‘Cars or sex?’ he asked, kissing your breast before he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

The words on your tongue died, thoughts fading as he rolled the sensitive nub between his teeth, pulling back only to release it with a slight pop. Once it was free, he moved to the other, mimicking the same attention, making you moan.

‘Either,’ you sighed, once you found your voice.

‘Both,’ he said, pushing you up a bit further against the door to lower himself. ‘After a while they stop being mutually exclusive.’

‘That’s the most -’ your sentence broke, words trapped in your throat as he pressed a finger between your folds, searching. You moaned at the sensation, feeling a flush bloom along your chest. ‘That’s the most masculine thing I’ve heard someone say - and masculine is being polite.’

‘Well,’ he replied, looking up at you through his eyelashes as he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh, ‘aren’t you lucky I’m not here for your mouth?’

You shivered at the touch, fingers gripping the seat in an effort to keep from forcing his head to your pussy. ‘You sure about that?’

‘Positive,’ was his plain reply, and, with that, he pushed two fingers inside you.

A cry burst from your chest, loud and unabashed, at the feel of his fingers spreading your folds, stretching them, as he pulled his fingers out only to push them back in. Arching your back in pleasure, you tried spreading your legs wider to give him better access, but found yourself restricted by the space. The limit to your movements meant all of you felt tight, his fingers thick and hard as they moved inside you, curling upwards to reach places your own never could. With each thrust inside, he pushed deeper, pressed harder, until eventually he buried his fingers inside to the knuckle and set a steady rhythm.

His free hand reached up to massage your breast, a hum of pleasure mixing with pride as he teased the mound. Long before he had started touching you, your breasts had started to feel heavy, body becoming tense with need, and having his hands all over you, all at once, was intoxicating. With his fingers moving inside you, your walls clenched around him, desperate to keep and hold his fingers, while you reached forward for his jaw, bringing his mouth towards yours.

You tongue sneaked out to wet your lips before you kissed, darting along the flesh, only to be captured by Chanyeol’s mouth. He sucked on it then, your hands gripping his shoulders in pleasure as you moaned before moving down the smooth expanse of his shoulders. Along the way, your fingers pressed circles into the muscles, absorbing the warmth that seemed to radiate from his skin.

‘Fuck,’ he moaned against your mouth, swallowing your sighs, ‘you’re so fucking tight. How the fuck are you gonna take my dick?’

To accentuate his words, he curled his fingers on an inward thrust, pulling a cry from your lips. Your head fell back against the door, mouth open and eyes falling shut in delight. Chanyeol laughed, deep and possessive, and the sound made you smile. In your hands, his cock felt thick, and his words made you imagine him buried inside you to the hilt, stretching and filling you.

Instinctively, you started to grind down onto his fingers, thrusting into his hand for more of him. As if encouraged by your movements, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles over the swollen nub before tapping against it, applying more pressure with each stroke. Your hands slipped down to his biceps, clutching at him as your nails dug crescent moons into his skin, needy and desperate. Each thrust of his fingers brought you closer to the edge, the caresses against your clit causing your orgasm start to build.

It started first in your thighs, a wave of tension causing them to start to shake, before moving into your back and stomach, your blood burning hot in your veins. Breath becoming shallow, your walls clenched around his fingers, aching for something larger, thicker - you wanted him deeper, faster, harder, and his hand was simply not enough.

‘Stop,’ you said, and immediately Chanyeol halted his movements. ‘I want you to fuck me.’ You reached for him then, holding his face to bring his mouth to yours, murmuring against his lips. ‘I want you to fuck me so hard I taste you on my tongue.’

Slowly, you kissed him, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging, releasing only when he pulled his fingers from your core with a deep groan. He brought his fingers to his mouth, ran the tips along his lips before putting them in his mouth. Hollowing his cheeks, he closed his eyes and sucked, long and slow, with a deep hum of glee at the taste of you on his skin.

‘How does it taste?’ you asked.

Sliding his fingers from his mouth, he opened eyes, swaying briefly as though he were drunk. ‘Like victory.’

Placing both hands on your hips, he squeezed the soft flesh and your bones, gripping you as he kissed you once more, this time hard, tongue swiping against yours roughly.

‘Condom in the glove compartment,’ he muttered as he pulled away, fumbling awkwardly around the car for purchase.

Chanyeol clambered over the seat, all long limbs and bare ass. The length of his arms made it easier, perhaps, for him to reach the glove compartment without much struggle. At the new angle, the supple flesh of his ass was exposed, jeans around his ankles making his motions a small challenge, and you couldn’t help but crave the image of your handprint burning red against his cheeks.

And so you did, lifted your hand back to slap his ass hard, making him jump and yelp before he fell back into the seat. At the sight of his narrowed eyes, you burst into laughter, wicked and coquettish, biting your lip as a growl rumbled through his chest.

‘You’re gonna pay for that later,’ he hissed, tearing open the condom wrapper.

Cocking your eyebrow as your laughter died, you jutted your chin at him playfully. ‘There’s a later?’

Curling his upper lip, he took a moment to regard you and your mostly naked form, languidly rolling the condom down the hard length of his erection. You felt his eyes wandering over you, gaze heated and searing, burning your flesh away and making you feel exposed. Beneath his hard stare, you shivered.

Pleased with his assessment of your body, he licked at his full lips and lowered his gaze to your pussy, suddenly looking starved. ‘There fucking better be.’

For a moment, you remained still, watched him as he settled back against the door opposite you as if laying himself out as a feast. It was your turn, you assumed, to study him, his erection in his hand as he finished rolling on the condom, flushed chest, and and sweat at his theist from the heat that had built in the car.

The idea of a next time was exciting, exhilarating, but he still had to prove himself. You would never make it that easy.

‘Fuck me right, and maybe I’ll make that into a promise.’

Smirking, Chanyeol kept still and held your gaze. At once, you knew you had been right from the start - everything about him was an invitation.

‘Come sit on my dick.’

Not needing any further encouragement, you crawled over to him, eagerly. Holding your hips firmly, he adjusted you with ease, turning you so your back was resting against his chest, and you wiggled against him as you kicked off your jeans. The motion caused your ass to slide against his erection, hard and sitting heavy against his stomach.

‘Ah, fuck,’ he moaned, restlessly rubbing his cock between the cheeks of your ass, ‘stop teasing and just sit on me. You’ve got me so fucking hard it hurts.’

Turning to look over your shoulder, you saw him, gazing down at your ass with parted lips and flushed cheeks. Reaching back for his cock, you rose to your knees, lifted yourself up to bring his tip to your entrance and teased your folds. A keening whine slipped through his chest as he closed his eyes, tortured by the pleasure, a sound that could have just as easily come from you.

‘Like this?’ you asked, lowering yourself on his cock to sheath him tightly inside.

Already wet and stimulated, Chanyeol slid in with ease, but still the stretch of your walls had you both exclaiming.

‘Shit!’ he exclaimed, involuntarily thrusting up into at the sensation of being buried deep. ‘Your cunt is so fucking tight.’

Your chin fell to your chest, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of being stretched so completely, his girth stretching you. The feel of his cock buried so deep inside you put your heart in your throat, made you feel like you were racing him all over again, excited and wild and free. Dazed, you found yourself starting to shake.

‘I need a second,’ you whispered, getting used to his thickness. ‘Fuck.’

It felt fitting, you thought, that he should make you feel more full than you had in ages: with his dick, with his wit, and with his ego. Perhaps fucking him was a symptom of your own narcissism, body and soul recognizing him as an equal, and therefore letting you fuck yourself. The thought made you laugh, the vibration in your chest making you shudder and clench around him, pressing against him slightly.

‘Fuck, I could come just like that,’ he moaned, feeling you tighten around him.

‘But I can’t.’

And, with that, you lifted yourself up, let him slide out of you just to the tip, before you pushed back down on him. Like this, you set a rhythm that made your thighs burn, hands sliding over his legs and scratching at his skin. His fingers at your hips squeezed, forced bruises into the flesh born out of ecstasy and you were proud to wear them in his honour. The wet sounds of your fucking filled the car, and only when he got vocal, only when the low baritone of his moan fell in rhythm as you clenched around him each time he slipped from you, did you remember that someone could hear.

The thought invigorated you, made you bounce on him faster, and the sight of your excitement made Chanyeol laugh.

‘Look at you,’ he chuckled, dark and thick, thrusting up into you. ‘Fucking yourself on my cock like a slut.’

At his words, there was an unspoken shift in control, the movements of your thighs halting as he began to lift you, taking over to set a punishing rhythm. Keeping one hand at your hip, he dragged his left slowly up your stomach. Lightly, his fingers grazed the underside of your breast, barely there and ghosting against the skin, before he cupped it firmly. Pushing you back against his chest, you rested your head against his shoulder as the flat of his palm slithered over your breast and your chest to cradle your neck. Neither massaging nor squeezing, just lingering as a means of control.

The possessive hold on your body only elevated your arousal, made you rock into him and reach back to drape your arm around his neck. Fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, you let yourself drown in the totality of him, the victory of having him, and in the hopes that someone would see you - debauched and breathless - getting fucked hard and fast like a dream turned to reality. At this angle, he fucked into you roughly, deep and piercing, pressing against your spot with rapid thrusts.

‘Fuck!’ you sighed, voice tight and desperate. With your ear lingering so close to his mouth, you heard his low groan of pride and pleasure - one and the same, you thought - and your walls clenched around him, matching him thrust for thrust. ‘Right there,’ you gasped, licking at your lips, ‘shit - right there.’

‘You’ve got such a pretty mouth,’ he cooed, slowing his thrusts minutely and teasing you back against him in search of a faster speed, ‘pretty mouth and pretty cunt.’

The hand at your hip inched forward, fingers walking against your skin as though traversing the terrain of a map. Slowly, they moved until they rested atop your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts. At the contact, a high pitched moan, wholly unlike you, bled into the car and once more you felt your orgasm start to build.

Chanyeol sped up his thrusts at the sound, fucking into you with renewed vigor as his fingers flicked and rubbed at your clit like they were hungry for you and for your voice. All of him, his hands, his cock, and his heart, was begging for all of you. Inside you he was greedy, against you he was gluttonous, and you were just the same.

Against your back, you could hear the fluttering rhythm of his heart as it fought against his sternum. His breath cascaded down your neck in shallow puffs, each inward thrust putting a wet, deep grunt in your ears that only served to further your hunger. You wanted to feel him come apart beneath you, feel his thighs shudder and his hips jut to a halt as he spilled himself inside the condom.

These thoughts, these lewd and shameless thoughts, partnered with the piercing thrusts of his cock and his deft fingers at your clit, suddenly became too much to bear. The heat of your orgasm, the tingling sensation of keeping something more powerful than adrenaline bottled inside you, made your muscles start to tremble. Shivers rolled down your spine with each roll of your hips, and soon you were clutching at him, suddenly small and floating at the edge of ecstasy.

‘I’m gonna come,’ you sighed, words as messy as the movement of your hips, ‘I'm - oh, fuck.’

‘I know,’ he breathed, ‘I can feel it.’

His words pulled a small whine from your lips, tiny and defeated, no longer able to keep your climax at bay. Chanyeol laughed in your ear, the noise of it dripping through your veins and into your soul like honey, thick and sweet. Around him, your walls started to clench erratically.

‘Come for me,’ he demanded, thrusting harder and rubbing fast circles on your clit. ‘Let me hear it.’

At his command, your orgasm crashed through you, fierce and intense. Your back arched off him, mouth open in a silent scream as all the muscles in your body wound tight, cooling together in bliss before releasing all at once. With one hand at his leg and the other at his neck, you held onto Chanyeol tightly, grounding yourself and turning his body into a tether to keep your bones from evaporating entirely.

Inside you, Chanyeol kept his pace steady and brutal, dragging your orgasm out for as long as possible until you relaxed against him, fucked out and smiling at nothing. Removing his hand from your clit, he held your hips tightly, thrusting into you with urgency.

‘Minute I saw you,’ Chanyeol hissed between grit teeth, ‘from the minute I saw you, I knew your cunt would feel amazing.’

Unable to speak, the tremors of your orgasm still flickering in your veins, you simply hummed in response.

‘Next time I - oh shit,’ he moaned, hips becoming sloppy, ‘I want you bent over the hood of this fucking car, ass out for me to slap.’

His words only made your blissful smile blow wide. ‘Come then,’ you murmured, turning to press a cheek against his jaw. ‘Come so you get round two.’

You thought Chanyeol would be vocal in his orgasm, thought his predilection for dirty talk and public sex would make him noisy, but instead he was silent. He trembled through his orgasm, mouth open and breath halted, twitching against you as he spilled inside the condom.

For a while, you were both silent. As your heart rates began to settle, he pressed wet kisses against your neck and shoulder, panting yet doting on you with affection you found uncharacteristic for his previous demeanor. Normally, you found this off putting, but with him the action felt natural and welcome.

‘Do you want to go again?’ you whispered eventually, once you were able to piece the shards of your voice back together.

He hummed thoughtfully, playfully. ‘Cars or sex?’ he questioned, interested, before kissing your cheek.

‘Both.’

Chanyeol remained silent for a moment, weighing your response, but against your cheek you felt a grin tug at his lips.

‘Okay,’ he said, nodding slightly. ‘But this time I'm driving a Selene.’

Pleased, you decided to make your wager. ‘And what will the stakes be?’

‘Me,’ he said, almost instantly.

‘I'm in.’

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toffeebuzz · 5 years ago

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Variation of Indian Jewelry According to the Region

Jewelry is what India is famous for. It changed into no longer best in the older a while that we were known for our jewelries however even today there may be no evaluation among Indian jewelry and some other jewelry around the arena. But even in India the jewellery isn't always same all through the us of a however it is varying. It varies in line with location. It varies in keeping with the language they talk. It varies according to the regional customs. It varies in step with the tradition. Jewelry making isn't any form of production. You can't produce it on a massive scale. It wishes time and it wishes endurance. You should have sufficient craftsmanship to try this. No institute can train you how to make jewelry. They can educate you the idea however they can not instill the exceptional, that is required for making jewelry.

Image Credit This pleasant is possessed via an artist and like we are saying, both you are artist otherwise you aren't. You can not make an artist out of yourselves. This custom of creating earrings is surpassed on from technology to the era of the artists or the karigars. Either you are into that technology otherwise you aren't. Indian earrings has seen many twists and turns. Today, the revival period goes on for the Indian tradition, which is amazing. It is again being introduced into the marketplace with distinctive names and specific manufacturers. The comeback of Indian earrings is extremely predicted and is pretty a hit. Many global regarded brands are supporting it to restore itself and like the phoenix they're once more being born. Hence it's miles the proper time to investigate the information about the Indian jewelry and its culture. There are some of areas, which makes a speciality of generating it. Each place has its very own layout and aesthetic to reveal to the arena.

These areas are as follow: Delhi: Delhi is new in terms of Indian jewelry. The Mughals delivered the staring of making the jewellery in Delhi. They have been very a hit at that time. They are still in style and they may be still utilized by human beings across location. The excellent feature of jewelry on this component is the foundation for it. Most of the jewellery works are inspired through the character. They depict a few of the herbal matters into the jewellery. The maximum common inspirations are vegetation, leaves ambi, birds and vines. These look beautiful in addition to they possesses that aroma which is preserving it alive. These jewelries are very delicate and ornate. These jewelries have very tricky designs, which might be a pleasing issue to peer. The jewelry produced on this form typically employs Jadau work. Hence due to this these works go hand handy. You will want to examine it earlier than going for real work.

Rajasthan: there are some of designs produced inside the state. These are numerous and each of them has its strong point. The first of them is Kundan Jadau. In this fashion the gems are embossed or encrusted. They are embossed in the Kundan; subsequently the call is Kundan jadau. Kundan is a semi opaque crystal. These works have been extensively utilized inside the length of the Mughal governments. They added it with them. In earlier days, these have been not taken into consideration very crucial however nowadays it's far precious and it's far turning into the image the city of Jaipur. Ø The 2nd form of artistry is Meenakari. It is also a Rajasthani uniqueness. It may be very well-known for its works. It is an art of fusing or enameling metal. The fusing is carried out with other coloured lacquers. These lacquers come into a number of colors. They are available pink; additionally they are available in blue or green. The remaining kind of the designing characteristic of the Rajasthan is the theva. It is one of the unusual arts. These had long past extinct because of loss of patronage. But time has modified and they're once more being revised by way of the distinguished Indian Designers.

In this type of art, enameling of gold is finished on the glass. Since gold is yellow in shade as a result some of different colour foils are located under the glass to supply the desired assessment. This produces one of the maximum superb appearance. These are uncommon and there is a tremendous demand for those products. The riding function behind those is the preference of the artistry. No one could learn it without problems. This characteristic makes it maximum appealing to the sector.

Gujarat: Gujarat has always been the vicinity of the businessmen. Its history has enough proof of this. The biggest advantage of this kingdom is its nearness to the coast. Many different types of designs had been produced in the Gujarat. The first one is the Gheru. These designs are basically found in the Baroda of Gujarat. In this layout shape, artists deliver a very beautiful and rare copper end. The color of this end is dull red. It may be very beautiful. The subsequent one is the Pachchikam. This design has been in Gujarat for a long time. Many revivals were completed to it. It has visible many modifications. It could be stated to clearly represent Gujarat. In this layout function, many semi precious stones and glasswork are held collectively with the help of tiny steel claws.

The maximum sudden factor is that the stones are totally uncut. It differs from the Kundan Jadau because in that manner the stones was encrusted but in this selection they're no longer encrusted. It additionally produces most extraordinary appearance. Jewelry produces beneath this layout is difficult to pass with the aid of. You will be stitched to it in case you ever come to peer it. The 0.33 one is the Polki. This design is not associated with the gold however they may be associated with the diamonds. Bengal: Bengal has also been well-known for its artwork and jewellery.

Basically two designs have come from Bengal, which is of the best widespread. The first this kind of is the Filigree. In this design feature, silver paintings is done. Many extraordinary creations are made feasible with the help of these. Thin silver wires are twisted to supply desired appearance. These works are also executed in Orissa.

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fazeupmag-blog · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on Fazeup

New Post has been published on https://www.fazeup.tk/2019/06/14-issues-its-essential-know-in-tech-in-the-present-day/

14 issues it's essential know in tech in the present day

Right here’s your day by day tech digest, by the use of the DGiT Every day e-newsletter, for Wednesday, June 5, 2019!

1. The large issues from WWDC 2019

E-mobility is an thrilling transition sweeping the streets of many cities, though not at all times in a wise or logical approach.

A one-minute historical past, which can or could not align to your individual timeline relying in your location:

Automotive sharing takes off by way of Uber and Lyft because the taxi business is revolutionized.

Bike sharing turns into a factor. NYC’s Citi Bike is only one idea, and by 2017, cities are flooded with bikes that may be parked wherever and are sometimes trashed.

(Witness the deserted bikes piled in China.)

Someplace round 2017, electrical scooters take off because of the likes of Hen.

Earlier than lengthy, cities are flooded with electrical scooters that don’t final, aren’t economically viable for the businesses offering them, and current a type of bizarre dystopia.

E-bike sharing turns into actual too, with Lime bikes offering a well-liked possibility.

In Berlin, electrical scooters grow to be authorized on June 15th 2019, and primarily based on a Inexperienced Tech expo I went to per week in the past, at the least 5 firms wish to battle for the proper to zip across the streets.

Now Hen is switching it up by revealing it’s bringing out an e-bike cruiser, to sit down someplace in between the entire above choices:

Outlined as a ‘seated electric vehicle’, the Hen Cruiser (with optionally available pedals) packs a 52V battery that may final for as much as 50 miles per cost.

It should have disc brakes, a padded seat that may snugly match two, and an LCD display for pace, remaining battery, and so forth.

We don’t know rental price, or when the rollout will begin, and what number of cities shall be Birded.

What’s the purpose?

E-scooters with small wheels and exhausting decks current a restricted resolution to getting round in cities and locations.

Roads must be easy, the climate must be fairly good, and till not too long ago, hills had been a showstopper.

May this Cruiser be an answer?

Probably. . It has pedals, so it might go on the street or footpath and Hen has additionally stated it’ll work to make sure customers stick with most pace limits to make sure each are choices.

In all probability rather more sturdy, rather more of an all-weather machine, with pedals for when the lights exit and the consolation to trip a lot additional.

That is doubtless the very best case for e-bikes, e-mobility, and extra environmentally-friendly freedom in getting round.

Many questions stay, particularly round value and sturdiness, however this might be a wise spot and crush e-scooters.

2. Spotify has a second app! Its light-weight listening app Stations has launched within the U.S. (TechCrunch)

3. Lenovo Good Clock vs Google Nest Hub: Which is best to your bed room? (Android Authority).

4. Instagram is that this near ruining itself (Gizmodo).

5. Additionally, this 84-year-old Japanese grandpa has rocketed to fame on Instagram (BuzzFeed).

6. Specialists weigh in on Apple’s personal sign-in function (Engadget).

7. What does it imply when a product Is ‘Amazon’s Selection’? (Wired).

8. Firefox begins blocking third-party cookies by default, and that is nice (VentureBeat).

9. You don’t need to pay for films: Sony Crackle is a good free streaming service for these within the US and Australia (Android Authority).

10. Additionally, X-Males Darkish Phoenix opinions are in and so they’re…. Not good: ‘Inexplicably boring’ doesn’t learn properly (CNET).

11. IKEA is engaged on robotic furnishings for small flats (Engadget).

12. Microsoft is making Xbox physique wash, and Xbox smells like this: “the scent of pulsing green citrus” (GameSpot).

13. Michelin and GM bringing airless tires to the street in 2024 (CNET).

14. This man constructed (in)well-known Berlin techno membership Berghain in Minecraft (r/minecraft).

DGiT Every day: Your Tech Useful resource

In case you don’t know, the DGiT Every day delivers a day by day e mail that retains you forward of the curve for all tech information, opinions, and hyperlinks to what’s happening within the planet’s most vital area. You get all of the context and perception you want, and all with a contact of enjoyable, and the day by day enjoyable component that you simply in any other case miss.

Supply

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vacationsoup · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://vacationsoup.com/encounters-with-panthers-in-florida/

Encounters with Panthers in Florida

The title may lead you to believe panthers are attacking people in Florida. Not exactly. There ARE panthers in Florida. In the early 1990’s they were near extinction with only 30. Now there there about 200 panthers in Florida and still on the endangered list. But actual encounters with panthers in Florida are rare as they (the panthers) are very elusive and move about mainly at night.

Following is a story just published in the National Geographic by a wildlife photographer, Carlton Ward, Jr.

IT’S TAKEN ME 20 years to get this photo.

That’s how long I’ve been a photographer interested in natural Florida. And this is the first time I’ve seen a panther in the wild with a camera in my hand.

I have trekked more than 2,000 miles through Florida’s wildest places to bring attention to the Florida Wildlife Corridor, a statewide network of public and private lands that keeps wild Florida connected for wide-ranging wildlife.

For the past two years I have been focused on the endangered Florida panther—the last big cat in the eastern United States and a subspecies of cougar. Today, there are approximately 200 panthers—up from just 30 in the early 1990s—surviving primarily in the Everglades at the southern tip of Florida. To be recovered from endangered status, there needs to be three times as many panthers distributed across a much larger landscape.

As Florida’s population explodes over the next 50 years, the state is expected to lose up to five million acres of farms, forests, and unprotected land, according to the Florida 2070 study. New roads and suburban sprawl threaten to cut off the Everglades from the rest of the continent and prevent panthers from expanding into their historic territory throughout Florida and beyond.

Florida’s panthers are extremely elusive. They are active mostly at night and usually concealed by thick vegetation. A single male has a home range of 200 square miles.

To photograph them, my work had relied entirely on camera traps—basically forest studios comprised of professional cameras, lights, and an infrared trip wire that allow passing animals to take their own pictures. (Watch a Florida panther pass within inches of a hiker.)

One of my camera traps is set up in the backcountry of Audubon’s Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary, which provides important protected habitat within the Florida Wildlife Corridor and a buffer to development sprawling inland from Naples.

I was on my way to change the batteries and cards in my camera trap when I saw a panther sitting in the dirt road 200 yards ahead of me.

I drove a little closer, pulled my truck off to the side, rolled down the window and turned off the motor. The panther was initially very far away, so I used the longest lens I had available��a 100-400 zoom plus a 1.4 teleconverter, giving me 560mm of reach.

When the panther started walking closer, I put my camera on silent mode and made sure all of my movements were quiet and slow. In the harsh afternoon light the backgrounds were mostly bright and distracting. I set my aperture for a relatively shallow depth of field to minimize background detail, exposure slightly dark to prevent highlights from being blown out and autofocus sensor to a small zone so I could select the panther’s face and not the foreground or background.

“I Was Ready” When the panther sat down 20 yards away and looked straight at me, I was ready. I focused on her eyes and captured the moment she gave me.

A rare glimpse into the soul of wild Florida.

Carlton Ward Jr. is a conservation photographer who founded the Florida Wildlife Corridor project in 2010. He is currently documenting the Florida panther with support from a National Geographic Society storytelling grant. Published National Geographic July 16, 2018

Above is a male panther who tripped a night camera trap at the edge of a cypress swamp at Babcock Ranch Preserve.

The elusive Florida panther has taken on almost mystical significance to some Floridians, who may go their entire lives hoping for a look at one of the elusive animals.

Shirley Jane Saylor of Osteen in Volusia County said she has collected local panther stories for most of her 72 years. Sightings weren’t unusual here when she was growing up, said Saylor. As a child, she remembers hearing them “scream and caterwaul” in the trees.

In recent years, sightings continue to be reported occasionally in Volusia and Flagler counties. New Smyrna Beach, where our beach condo is located, is in Volusia County!

A panther was seen at Tomoka State Park in March 2008

Rare Florida panther spotted in Volusia County, March 13, 2008

ORMOND BEACH — The paw print at Tomoka State Park measured 4 inches by 4 inches, much too big for even the biggest bobcat. John Lohde continued to follow the cat’s trail, seeing an 8-foot gap between two sets of four prints. That would be too big a leap for a bobcat. Only one animal could have left those tracks in the sand, providing the long-awaited evidence needed to confirm what some had suspected for years. Lohde, a park-services specialist, could hardly believe it, knowing how rare it would be to find one of these highly endangered felines so far north of the Everglades. “We tend to take panther sightings with a grain of salt, but having tracks like this is critical to confirming he’s here,” Lohde said. “We’re just as excited as we can be.” Darrell Land, the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission biologist who leads the state’s panther team, is convinced.”We have absolutely confirmed it is a panther,” Land said of the Volusia findings. The females don’t typically venture beyond the Everglades and the surrounding preserves, but males need a large territory, so the Volusia cat is thought to be a male that would have been born in South Florida.

In June 2005, a panther was killed on Interstate 95, just north of the Flagler County line.

Rangers at Tomoka State Park, with more than 8,000 acres in northeast Volusia, have had several panther sightings during the past two years. (2013-2015) Some park employees have even seen the cat crossing the road near the entrance to the campgrounds.

In 2015, Lohde checked on a panther sighting by a local man, who is a skilled hunter and an experienced woodsman. Lohde ventured to the northern stretch of the park, near Old Dixie Highway, when he found the tracks and followed them for nearly a mile. Having worked in Big Cypress National Preserve in South Florida, and at a Phoenix zoo stocked with Western cougars, Lohde knew he was tracking a big cat. He studied the pattern of the tracks, seeing the clues to what the panther was doing. “I could almost visualize it, when he got to this soft sandy soil and instead of maintaining his casual stride, he leapt to get across the sand as quickly as possible,” he said. Lohde took plaster casts of four of the paw prints, as well as photographs, using a measuring tape to demonstrate their size. “The quality of those photographs confirms to us it is a panther,” said Land. Since then, Lohde has reconsidered the history of panther sightings in the area and now thinks the panther has staked Tomoka State Park as part of his territory. The cat tends to stay on the land north of the Tomoka River, where feral hogs and deer are plentiful. The most recent sighting was last weekend on Walter Boardman Lane, a scenic road lined with marshes and massive oaks that makes up part of “The Loop,” a scenic highway in north Volusia. It might be on that road, or along Old Dixie Highway, that the cat will be seen again. But it won’t be anywhere in the neighborhoods. “With so much public land, he wouldn’t have much interest in crossing someone’s backyard,” he said. “These lands here are just perfect habitat for him.”

I haven’t personally seen a Florida panther, not quite.

Two years ago I walked from our beachfront condo up to Smyrna Dunes Park on the northern end of the island to explore around. The park was closed due to a recent hurricane, but I spent some time talking with the park ranger there, who told me panthers have been seen in the park area. Smyrna Dunes Park features an elevated walkway that meanders through Florida’s natural habitat. The park also provides a unique opportunity for naturalists, ecologists, students and the general public to see a wide variety of animals, birds, reptiles, marine life and vegetation in their natural habitat.

For more information on Florida Panthers, you can go to:

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/2018/07/nice-shot-florida-panthers-animals/

Carlton Ward’s facebook page https://www.facebook.com/pg/CarltonWardPhotography/posts/?ref=page_internal

For more information on nature parks in New Smyrna Beach area where our beach condo is located, you can go to https://www.volusia.org/services/public-works/coastal-division/coastal-parks/smyrna-dunes-park.stml. I also posted about New Smyrna Beach nature parks in one of my earlier posts if you want to scroll down the posts in “Local Guide” on my condo website.

You Tube has some interesting pictures of real life encounters with panthers in Florida by searching “panthers in Florida”.

#Coleman Condo #Florida #Florida panther #Florida wildlife #nature tour #New Smyrna Beach #New Smyrna Beach condo #whattosee

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josephkitchen0 · 7 years ago

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4 Chicken Runs and Coops Built from Recycled Materials

Have you ever wanted to build a chicken run and coop for your backyard chickens, but had no idea where to start? Take a look at these four inspiring chicken coop projects from chicken keepers around the country — all of them were made with a combination of recycled materials and elbow grease! It just goes to show that building chicken runs and coops doesn’t have to be expensive when you can reuse and recycle building materials.

Chicken runs and coops can come in all sizes and styles, depending on the size of your flock and your location. One of the great things about using local materials for building chicken runs and coops is that you reduce the total carbon footprint of your building and keep materials out of landfills. If you want some great ideas on how to build a chicken coop using local and recycled materials, look at these great stories for inspiration.

Our best chicken secrets revealed with this FREE guide!

Even old pros say they got dozens of tips for their flocks by reading this guide. YES! I want this Free Guide »

Make Chicken Runs and Coops Using 100 Percent Recycled Materials

Michelle Jobgen, Illinois – We built our chicken runs and coop almost totally using recycled materials. We bought about $9 worth of screws. We recycled a barn that was falling in at a neighbor’s farm. We used whole pieces of the barn walls for the coop’s walls and floor. We used scraps of tin for the roof given to us by another neighbor. The old tin nesting box was actually on the property when we moved here. We just added plywood bottoms because they had rusted through. We screwed some shelf supports into the walls and screwed branches (instead of boards) about 2″ thick for our roosts. The can on top of the waterer keeps them from roosting on it, helping the water stay clean longer. The bungee cords on the feeder let us know when it’s getting low without having to enter the coop.

The Jobgen family used boards from an old barn for the walls and floor of their new coop.

The roost is simply a branch from the yard, and the nest boxes were found on the property, with plywood added since the bottoms had rusted through. The loose tin can on the waterer keeps the birds from jumping or sitting on it, resulting in a much cleaner unit.

Move an Old Chicken Coop to a New Site

Marci Fouts, Colorado – Our chicken love story started out like many others. Newly moved to clean country living in northern Colorado from metropolitan Phoenix, we started out with a small flock of six chickens in an A-frame portable chicken coop in the backyard. We had many trials and tribulations; learning how to raise baby chicks, deciding when it was okay to turn the heat lamp off, how to dust for lice, etc. The next door neighbor’s dog wiped out all of our original flock except for one bird who was renamed Lucky. We started again and moved our portable chicken coop to a safer location with a better fence.

Our daughters, ages 8 and 10, were so excited when the first egg was discovered and they tried to guess which hen had laid the precious prize. Then it was on to the fair, where our oldest daughter won Grand Champion, Standard Other Breed, for her Ameraucana chickens; the trophy was bigger than the bird. That was all it took to get us hooked on chickens! We added more exotic breeds to our flock: bantam Sebrights, Frizzles and Silkies; and some new layers, giant silver Cochins and the reliable Leghorn. Before we knew it, we needed a bigger chicken coop and started investigating all kinds of chicken runs and coops for the backyard.

We live in a small town that continues to see development. While this is a positive thing for our economy, we feel a small twinge of disappointment each time we drive by a farm that has a for sale sign in front of it by a large developer. Such was the case for the building that we saved.

The original building wasn’t much to look at, but the Fouts family saw the potential.

The Fouts loaded the old building onto a flatbed truck, and hauled it to the home site, below.

The Fouts loaded the old building onto a flatbed truck, and hauled it to the home site, below

With a bit of paint, new windows and lots of elbow grease, the coop is a lovely home for the Fouts’ birds.

On the corner of Eisenhower and I-287 is an old brick farmhouse, along with several farm buildings, that look as if they have stood there for 100 years. Unfortunately, it was on the corner of a busy intersection and was a prime location for a convenience store or gas station; so the land was for sale and the buildings were to be demolished. We felt if we could save at least one of the buildings, we were doing our small part in continuing to maintain our community’s farming heritage; not to mention keeping perfectly good materials from heading to the local landfill.

We called the developer, who gave us his permission to take one of the buildings from the site. We selected a small 8′ x 8′ building that sat on a 2′ high concrete foundation and had been used to hang chickens after they had been slaughtered. It was full of trash, mice, bugs, and cobwebs; but we could see its potential. We recruited some help and set about freeing our new coop from its current foundation and surrounding trees.

We thought that it would be a piece of cake to push the building onto the flatbed trailer, but that turned out not to be the case. The idea was to pull the building onto the flatbed atop two round poles using a come along; however, the bottom slats of siding on the building started to crush and shred as they snagged and got caught on the poles. Putting their creative heads together, the guys slid a round pole horizontally under the building and rolled it slowly across the long poles onto the trailer. It was a slow process and took almost four hours to move the building from its foundation to the trailer.

After strapping the building down tightly, we had an eight-mile drive to the new location. It was slow going, but our new coop made it safely and was ready to be lowered onto its new foundation using chains and the good old John Deere. The new 2 x 4 lumber foundation was built with a solid wood floor on 4 x 4 skids with large eye hooks on the ends so that the building could easily be pulled with a tractor to whatever location we desired. The coop was secured to the new foundation using 20 lag bolts.

Then the fun work began. With paint scrapers in hand, we painstakingly scraped off 30 years of dried paint and old wood splinters; removed old rotted window panes and pulled lots of rusty nails. We went back to the farmstead and found an old wooden door on another of the buildings that we modified to fit our coop. We pulled down cobwebs and scoured the inside so that it was clean and sterile, and built new nesting boxes and roosting ladders. The old wood on the outside was so thirsty, it soaked up three layers of paint as we painted the building and trim to match our barn. We purchased fence panels that are used to make a dog run and wrapped the chicken yard around the side and back of the building to ensure that regardless of sun location, our flock had plenty of shade.We moved our flock into their new home on a rainy Saturday afternoon. It was wonderful to watch them inspect their new quarters. They had plenty of space to walk around, scratch in fresh shavings and perch on their roosts, even with the stormy weather outside. Our recycled chicken coop has become a beautiful addition to our property and we feel good knowing that we were able to take something old and make it new again.

Indigenous Materials & Friends’ Donations to Build Chicken Runs and Coops

Lantz chicken coop

Jayne Lantz, Indiana – This is our chicken coop made from items friends and neighbors had lying around. We have 30 chickens at the present time living in the house.The chicken coop is built with 75 percent recycled materials, galvanized roofing, 2 x 4s, and stone. The inside walls have hickory flooring left over from our son’s house. The main expenses were concrete, the outside cage, and wire. The pen is 8′ x 16′, and the coop is 8′ x 8′.

This closeup of the door to the run shows the large spaced fencing. The Lantz family will add chicken wire around the entire run to keep out the numerous predators.

Using stone from the property ensures a coop that will last a lifetime. The firewood behind the coop offers another natural option for building a coop—cordwood building. A cordwood coop building instructions can be found in the book, Chicken Coops, by Judy Pangman available from the Countryside bookstore. Another book on building with cordwood is Cordwood Building: The State of the Art by Rob Roy.

The young birds have a beautiful coop and—at least for now—clean nest boxes ready for use when they begin laying.

We will be adding chicken wire along the sides of the cage for chicken predator protection and we have chicken wire along the top of the pen also. We would have liked to have free range chickens but too many predators including fox, coyote, dogs, and muskrat prevent that. Many hours have been put into building this coop but my husband enjoyed doing it and having our friends and neighbors admire it as it was being built. We did plenty of research into building sturdy, attractive chicken runs and coops and are happy with what we finally ended up with!

Build Chicken Runs and Coops By Using What You Have Now

Rocky Mountain Rooster’s Coop Bed & Breakfast—Hens Welcome! The Griesemers, Colorado – We got three Barred Rock hens and one Rhode Island Red rooster this spring and wanted to make sure they had great “accommodations”. We looked into many different ways to build chicken runs and coops, and my husband decided to build this 12′ x 12′ chicken coop with an attached 12′ x 12′ run. We call it The Rooster’s Coop Bed & Breakfast. They sleep in, come and go as they please and each hen lays nearly one egg a day for us. These are our first chickens ever and we can’t wait to add more to our flock!

When the Griesemers thought the small coop wasn’t sufficient, they turned an unused loafing shed into a coop and turned it into their new home. They filled the loafing shed’s dirt floor with hay, packed it in very tight, and then put plywood on top of that. They insulated the walls and ceiling, then put plywood over it. They added a window, door and walk-out door for the chickens, put up a few decorations, and finished with a 12 x 12 x 24 run.

The Griesemers had a perfect flock of three Barred Rock hens and one Rhode Island Red hen…until the Rhode Island Red began crowing.

All the comforts of home, for birds and humans alike.

We started our chicken journey in April 2009 with four hens. They were the cutest little things. We named the littlest chick “Peep” because that was all she could do. What a precious little thing. We kept them in a 2′ x 4′ x 4′ wooden coop with two little nests and thought this would be perfect for them. After all, they were so tiny and seemed to be very content to cuddle for warmth. Things were going wonderfully and we couldn’t wait for our hens to turn six months old so we could have fresh eggs!

We were reading all about raising chickens and looked at all kinds of options for building chicken runs and coops – we were trying to be prepared. We had a heat lamp, lots of fresh food and water and we would spend loads of time with them, talking to them and bonding. Month after month, our hens were growing, having all the feed, scratch, bread, oatmeal, cornbread, and veggies, that their little hearts desired. We thought it was funny though, that little Peep was filling out differently than the other hens…and we thought her colors were just gorgeous. Three Barred Rock hens and one Rhode Island Red hen … what a perfect flock!

To make a long (and very obvious) story short, we learned that little Peep wasn’t a hen, but a rooster. One day we heard this little “hen” making the strangest sound, and we looked at each other and just laughed. Our little Peep was growing up and had just tried his very first crow! After a few short weeks, Peep was crowing and quite proud to be doing so. We decided that three hens wouldn’t be enough for this little guy, so we got two more hens, a Lakenvelder and a Brown Leghorn, both beautiful. And Peep was very happy his flock was growing…with all hens.We decided that their little 2′ x 4′ x 4′ just wouldn’t do it, so we took an extra 12′ x 12′ x 12′ loafing shed and turned it into their new home. We filled the loafing shed’s dirt floor with hay, packed it in very tightly, and then put plywood on top of that.

The smallest hen, the Brown Leghorn, BeeBee, lays the biggest, whitest eggs the Griesemers have ever seen. A friend, after seeing the white egg, asked if it was from a goose! They just smiled.

We had seen other insulated chicken runs and coops and used those ideas to finish building our backyard chicken house. We took 3″ foam insulation, lined the walls and ceiling with that, and put plywood sheets on top of the insulation. On the front wall, we added a small window with a screen, a walk-in door with glass and screens, and a little walk-out door for the chickens. Next, we built six chicken nest boxes, put hay in them, put up four chicken roosting bars, separated the room with wood to lay a thick layer of pine shavings on the floor for the chickens. On the other side of the room, we laid linoleum for us to walk on to go in to feed and clean out the coop. What a treat! Then we built a 12 x 12 x 24 run and attached it to the coop to ensure the chicken hawks, falcons and other birds that we have here in Colorado wouldn’t have a meal to go!

Our girls just love the nests, coop and run and are now giving us around four eggs a day. We both wish we had done this years ago! We love our chickens and adopt more hens. We now have nine hens and our rooster, Peep. Needless to say, he is a very happy rooster!

Originally published in 2009 and regularly vetted for accuracy.

4 Chicken Runs and Coops Built from Recycled Materials was originally posted by All About Chickens

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consciousowl · 7 years ago

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Who Said UFO’s Are Bogus?

You may remember the stunning scenes in Stephen Spielberg’s masterpiece, Close Encounters, where UFO’s keep zooming over and around Muncie, Indiana utterly capturing the imagination of the Richard Dreyfuss character, Roy Neary. Roy receives a psychic call to go meet them somehow, and is willing to risk everything in the process.

There are more things in heaven and earth…

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Shakespeare’s Hamlet

I was under the very same skies as Stephen Spielberg when he conceived his first movie, Firefly, which he showed in 16 millimeters at the Phoenix Art Museum. I was only a kid back then, and we were all spooked out about what we called “flying saucers,” at the height of the Cold War. That was when ICBM missiles were first being deployed and Russia was winning the Space Race.

What has happened with UFO’s? They seem to come and go in waves, and yet they are permanently embedded in our psychic imagination, what Carl Jung called “the imaginal realm.”

What Are UFO’s?

UFO means “Unidentified Flying Object,” and stands for just that. UFO’s can be ANY moving object in the sky, whether a cloud formation, a balloon, a flock of birds, a meteor, a space launch or an airplane, propeller or jet. For whatever reason, people observing it on the ground or in the sky can’t make out what it is, and can’t rule out that it might be of “extra-terrestrial” origin.

At least 5% of the tens of thousands of citing’s cannot easily be explained away by existing phenomenon, even after rigorous reviews by Intelligence. This is not a trivial matter, as you can just imagine all the junk up in the sky, rockets, test or otherwise, and every sort of airplane.

A common assumption behind UFO’s is that they come from outer space and are advanced craft operated by highly intelligent beings that defy known laws of physics. For example, they can be stationery, and then suddenly zoom up at 200,000 thousand miles an hour without making any noise.

Why Are UFO’s Important?

UFO’s suggest that we, as humanity, are not alone in the universe. We, along with the dolphins and whales, are not the only forms of intelligent life. Other species, within or outside our solar system, may be more advanced than us.

UFO citing’s refuse to go away, and have been observed for centuries, not simply since World War II. They may even be implied in ancient sacred texts, such as the Bible and the Hindu’s Ramayana epic. It is highly possible that they, and angels, may refer to the same order of being, and are transdimensional, meaning they can appear or disappear at will.

Let us not forget that UFO’s are a multibillion-dollar industry in Hollywood, in the publishing industry and in specialized conferences and conventions around the world where well-educated people engage in wild speculation.

Overwhelming Evidence

Incidents and sworn affidavits keep piling up around the world entailing witnesses at the highest levels, political and military, as well as a host of ordinary citizens. Voluminous photographs, films and video have been archived and continue to be released, some highly incriminating, like little men in space suits walking across an airport.

It has been estimated that there are close to a quarter million such reports, including North America, Europe and Russia, occurring day and night. Even more disconcerting, extremely credible people, such as astronauts Edwin Mitchell, who landed on the moon, and Gordon Cooper, an early Mercury astronaut, have given testimony.

youtube

Were it not for flying saucers, we might well wonder if we would have ever developed the space program, or seen the emergence of such awesome movies as 2001, Star Wars and Star Trek. We are now already at the point of having launched probes at most of the planets, as well as beyond our solar system.

Are UFO’s Even Physically Possible?

If you have studied physics, you may be asking yourself, how could extraterrestrials from star systems other than our sun have possibly made it here? The Milky Way galaxy is 100,000 light years across, and the known universe is 100 billion light years across. Even the nearest stars, such as Sirius, require several years for their light to reach us.

Humanity hasn’t even come close to the speed of light, 186,000 miles PER SECOND, managing only tens of thousands of miles PER HOUR. We are currently focused on solid rocket fuel, or hydrogen power. While we hear of electromagnetic propulsion, this is not widely known.

The limits of the speed of light have all been called into question by the new physics. Even Albert Einstein, as stubborn as he could be, deeply questioned his own notions of space-time. The discovery of nonlocality maintains that two originally paired particles on opposite sides of the universe can correlate their spins. Neither space nor time is an inherent limitation.

What is going on here?

Why Do Most Governments Deny UFO’s?

While the military has spent decades researching thousands of citing’s, they have managed to come up with alternative explanations in most, but not all, cases. The attitude is much along the lines of…. This CAN’T HAPPEN, so it DIDN’T HAPPEN.

Decades back, the US Air Force suspended their known studies, maintaining that they had not arrived at any conclusive evidence, despite rumors of extraterrestrial crashes from Roswell, New Mexico to the Amazon basin. Bodies and materials not of this world were photographed. Of course, officials are quick to suggest this is all an elaborate hoax.

A deeper reason is fear that a public announcement of official landings might set off a panic around the world that would incite massive chaos. One need only think of Orson Well’s fake radio announcement of the War of the Worlds back in 1937, where listeners actually died of heart attacks.

Are UFO’s Classified and Secret Military Experiments?

Militaries around the world are routinely given elaborate research and development budgets in the billions of dollars that don’t require detailed accounting. They have access to the best minds and the most advanced materials. One thinks of the stealth bombers used in the Gulf War that could break the sound barrier while masking their wave signature to be undetectable to radar.

These technological breakthroughs, which may be comparable to the evolution of the original 1984 Macintosh to the iPhone Plus, remain classified and even top secret. Information is given out on a strictly need-to-know basis. This is to ensure strategic advantage against other government, either for defensive or offensive purposes.

We still can’t be sure that our military-industrial complex is up to producing the advanced materials and thrust apparent in the more elaborate UFO accounts, such as a silent mothership floating in the sky that suddenly disappears. Think of Star Trek, or Star Wars.

Sensationalized Narratives

Just attend a UFO convention or a major New Age festival to find organizations pedaling the most far-out stories imaginable. This is a lucrative business. William Gibson coined the phrase “the future is now,” referring to science fiction as the “golden ghetto.” Most novelists won’t touch it, but those who do stand to make a mint. Just think of the work of Philip K. Dick.

It is widely thought that hundreds of thousands of aliens live among us. The story is that they landed on the White House lawn back in 1947 and cut a deal with President Truman that “we won’t bother you, if you don’t bother us.” These intelligent beings were supposedly given an underground base in Area 51, where we had incidentally done atmospheric tests on our hydrogen bombs.

Views of the alien are either benign or paranoid. We have to suppose that Europe and America have projected onto the skies the exploitation they have been inflicted on indigenous peoples since Christopher Columbus. One fanciful writer claims that President Obama, as a young man, went to a star gate, an interplanetary portal where he was transdimensionally jumped to an underground military base on Mars!

The more you study these stories, the more fuel you will have to come up with your own blockbuster action/adventure movie, such as ID4: Independence Day.

The Problem with Conspiracy Theories

There is no end to freaky stories. They are almost all about what is “out there” that is about to do something to you. Most of them are second or third-hand accounts, and quite often someone is making a lot of money off the charade. Conspiracy theories are the perfect confidence game: we never landed on the moon, the intelligence community staged 9/11 and Elvis Presley stills walks the suburban streets.

I, personally, have never seen an aerial phenomenon that I am certain was a flying saucer. I have never met an E.T., an extraterrestrial alien, with one exception. When I started my studies at Cal Berkeley, I met a snappy, older man in a red beret who claimed he was born on Mars. Back then, people at Berkeley did things like that. So I never took him all that seriously.

Conspiracy theories can be a marvelous diversion, but they can also drain all the energy out of you. You get all wired up, unable to concentrate on anything else. You are utterly disempowered. Strangely enough, the people who manufacture such stories often grin a lot. One need only think of Steven Greer, M.D., who can stretch your thinking beyond all reason.

Would a Public UFO Landing Wipe Out Religion?

Let us say that a really classy UFO silently landed in Times Square, stopping all the traffic. If the dapper humanoid crew climbed out to greet the foot traffic, most religions wouldn’t be ruffled. We have already witnessed the moon landing, and the development of the computer industry with the World Wide Web. The Berlin Wall came tumbling down, and “Red” China became highly commercialized.

If I was a rigid fundamentalist who could only treat sacred texts literally and had zero appreciation of mythology as a literary genre, it might be very different. I might, for example, consider little green men, or whatever they were, as a satanic delusion. Christ died for humanity. Why should we suppose He would die for the plants and animals, let alone thankless aliens?

If I were convinced that we have a God of absolute Love, and Christ is the ultimate expression of that Love, I would see Christ, much like an E.T., as the one who came to our Planet to wake us up to our own divinity. I would then greet the alien with the Hindu “Namaste!” (“I salute the divinity within you.”)

Are UFO’s Actually “Out There” or “In Here”?

If we are honest with ourselves, each of us creates our own experience. No one or nothing is actually “out there” wholly independent of us, just as our bodies “over here” are totally dependent upon your observation “over there.” We are all brothers and sisters. We are all ONE. My only true Self can be none other than GOD.

When we get back in touch with the context of our experience, we realize the Context of All Contexts, in which spin the galaxies. Any and all UFO’s and extraterrestrial intelligences can live only within that ultimate context.

If we go all the way in metaphysics, and plunge into the full spectrum of mystical experience, we will find that we can include any phenomenon. In so far as we are truly enlightened, we can channel love, and make anyone our friend. Why can’t we greet ET’s as angels here to deliver an important message? Stop the arms race and start healing your Mother Planet.

UFO’s: A Personal Perspective

Humanity has been dealing with mysteries for a very long time. All the great religious traditions have accounts that suggest UFO’s or aliens of some kind, more particularly “angels” or divine messengers. In the Modern Age, we swept the unknown under the carpet. Science will disclose all truth and lead us into a millennium of peace. As you may have noticed, that has yet to happen. Thus, it is time to do a second take.

Most probably aliens are just as real as anything in front of your face. We assume our bodies are more real than our thoughts, and our thoughts than our love. Perhaps the opposite is true. UFO’s lie within our collective experience. Many of the advocates are brilliant, accomplished people who are anything but raving lunatics foaming at the mouth. Many have staked their reputation and lives on Disclosure. We must honor their courage.

Nobody has it all figured out. Everyone deserves to be heard. We must open up our hearts and minds. I feel humanity is close at hand to a revelation an order-of-magnitude beyond anything that has ever occurred. Clearly the time has come.

If we greeted everyone around us as a divine visitor from heaven, the world would most certainly be a better place, and we wouldn’t feel quite so compelled to leave!

What Do You Think?

We at Conscious Owl welcome your thoughts. UFO’s and ET’s are highly subjective. People often get the best insights around this subject within a lucid dream. Please share with us your insights and perspectives. This exercise will be worthwhile if we come even a step closer to the truth.

Who Said UFO’s Are Bogus? appeared first on http://consciousowl.com.

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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@onceuponymous replied to your post “(( i made youtube mistakes i now im finding new music that makes me...”

I want to make the same mistakes. Release the forbidden list of angst songs

(( tbh it’s not super long but here’s some recent song finds that have made me cry over the sibs in some capacity ))

I’ll Be Good - Jaymes Young

My past has tasted bitter for years now, So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told. I've been cold, I've been merciless But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today

I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should I'll be good, I'll be good I'll be good, I'll be good For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I've doubt For all of the bruises that I've caused and the tears For all of the things that I've done all these years Yeah, for all of the sparks that I've stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt

Fools - Lauren Aquilina

The anticipation before the kiss Mirrored in my shaking lips Oh god I feel so unprepared The two of us so out of place My feelings written on my face Got what I want but now I'm scared What if we ruin it all, and we love like fools? And all we have we lose? I don't want you to go but I want you so So tell me what Tell me what we choose What we choose What we choose

& not a new find but the ever-classic

How To Save A Life - The Fray

As he begins to raise his voice You lower yours and grant him one last choice Drive until you lose the road Or break with the ones you've followed He will do one of two things He will admit to everything Or he'll say he's just not the same And you'll begin to wonder why you came Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a life

#onceuponymous #just a witness | ooc #court lounge | audio #everything changes | edgeworth musings #in his shadow | franziska musings #(( tbh one of them is real #fear you might see my heart race | franziska/maya #so we're just gonna give that a tag ))#(( & one is real #two birds on a wire | phoenix & miles #soooooo ))

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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(( Sometimes I think about Miles and Phoenix getting into an argument over which of them is the most reckless & for a moment my brain pictures this as a funny scenario because ofc it is they always get out the most dangerous jams unscathed

But then I have this shift of ‘oh god serious argument over this recklessness bc they’re worried abt each other' which is bad shift that involves that concerned anger & ‘why do u put yourself into these situations’ which may be more @ Miles bc Phoenix tends to be more an accident prone punching bag except when he’s running across burning bridges or blindly revealing how he’s going to catch culprits (which is more in the first game) unlike Miles ‘let me enter a hostage negotiation alone & where the one person i have on lookout cant see me’ Edgeworth

i just.......... i honestly don’t know if this makes any sort of sense my brain just has a lotta half-baked images in it ))

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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(( AND THEN IT’S A PAN TO JUST BRIGHT WHITE & MY HEART!!! ))

#just a witness | ooc #ace liveblogs investigations #everything changes | edgeworth musings #against all odds | phoenix wright #two birds on a wire | phoenix & miles

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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1) Some versions of Hanahaki disease have it so feelings for the person -- or even memories of them -- are removed along with the infection if the person goes in for surgery 2) Phoenix can sort of play the piano 3) Listen to Forget Me Not by Marianas Trench

((

Stop

Neat

w AIT A GOSH DIDDLY DARN SECOND OH BOY HOWDY FUCK ME RIGHT THE FUCK UP

))

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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(( *clutches chest* ))

#(( miles: a certain man #everyone: yes you love wright we know you love wright so much he's the light of your life WE GET IT YOU LOVE PHOENIX WRIGHT ))#just a witness | ooc #ace liveblogs investigations #everything changes | edgeworth musings #mr. edgeworth | edgeworth visage #follower of the goddess of law | justine courtney #against all odds | phoenix wright #two birds on a wire | phoenix & miles #i will never leave you | phoenix/miles

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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(( SCREAMS ))

#(( i mean 'what would phoenix wright do?' is not always the BEST strategy but yknow ))#(( THIS IS GOOD SHIT. GOOD SHIT ))#just a witness | ooc #ace liveblogs investigations #mr. edgeworth | edgeworth visage #against all odds | phoenix wright #two birds on a wire | phoenix & miles

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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Another song rec: Relient K's "The Truth"

This is so unnervingI know you’ve never lied to me beforeBut the things you’re telling meI can’t yet believeYet can’t ignoreBut I’ll just have to acceptThat my mind is so ineptAnd the only thing that’s leftFor me is to trust youPut the emphasis on the evidenceBegging for the proofSometimes the hardest thing to believe is the truth

{ x }

(( wow just fucking obliterate me right here right now huh???? destroy my fucking soul ))

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imperfectfools · 7 years ago

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If I Am, by Nine Days, is a good song for Phoenix/Miles

The answers we findAre never what we had in mindSo we make it up as we go alongYou don’t talk of dreamsI won’t mention tomorrowWe won’t make those promises that we can’t keep

I will never leave youI will not let you down

{ x }

(( hey just come into my house and fuck me up real good huh? ))

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josephkitchen0 · 7 years ago

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4 Chicken Runs and Coops Built from Recycled Materials

What do I need in my Chicken Coop?

Download this FREE Guide from our chicken housing experts — chicken coop plans to ideas for nesting boxes. YES! I want this Free Report »

Make Chicken Runs and Coops Using 100 Percent Recycled Materials

The Jobgen family used boards from an old barn for the walls and floor of their new coop.

Move an Old Chicken Coop to a New Site

The original building wasn’t much to look at, but the Fouts family saw the potential.

The Fouts loaded the old building onto a flatbed truck, and hauled it to the home site, below.

The Fouts loaded the old building onto a flatbed truck, and hauled it to the home site, below

With a bit of paint, new windows and lots of elbow grease, the coop is a lovely home for the Fouts’ birds.

Indigenous Materials & Friends’ Donations to Build Chicken Runs and Coops

Lantz chicken coop

This closeup of the door to the run shows the large spaced fencing. The Lantz family will add chicken wire around the entire run to keep out the numerous predators.

The young birds have a beautiful coop and—at least for now—clean nest boxes ready for use when they begin laying.

Build Chicken Runs and Coops By Using What You Have Now

The Griesemers had a perfect flock of three Barred Rock hens and one Rhode Island Red hen…until the Rhode Island Red began crowing.

All the comforts of home, for birds and humans alike.

The smallest hen, the Brown Leghorn, BeeBee, lays the biggest, whitest eggs the Griesemers have ever seen. A friend, after seeing the white egg, asked if it was from a goose! They just smiled.

Originally published in 2009 and regularly vetted for accuracy.

4 Chicken Runs and Coops Built from Recycled Materials was originally posted by All About Chickens

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