#Single phase pad tanks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mychlapci · 11 months ago

Note

Single mommy-to-be Sentinel Prime accidentally conditioning himself into getting aroused at the thought of being a good housemecha. Deciding that even thought the pregnancy was a surprise he wasn’t going to be known as some kind of dead-beat failure of a parent, his own pride forcing him to actually study up. Maybe too proud to find a transfluid donor, so he has to take supplements. Of course, they’re administered by valve… and the applicator might as well be a false spike.

Pregnant, desperately horny Sentinel rocking on his new favorite toy as he watches his parenting tips and housekeeping vids, trying to keep from overloading as his hand teases his limp, useless spike absentmindedly. I imagine he’d still be too proud to touch his node, and by the time he’d be desperate enough to try he’d be too round with his bitlet to reach. Biting his lip and whining with need when his next vid ends, the friendly mech narrating assuring him that he’ll “do a great job, carrier!” It’s just more efficient to do both at the same time, learn what he needs to prove he’s the best while getting the necessary nutrients for the bitlet. Anything to get back to work faster, after all.

Those thoughts would fade as the pregnancy progressed, as he grew heavier and hormonal. A mech as strong and brilliant as Sentinel Prime would never be an absent parent after all, never mind the twitch of his valve when he thought about being a good, dedicated mommy. Of course he’d need to stay home until the bitlet weaned, at bare minimum. Breast is best, or so his vids keep telling him as his own pair swell with energon. And maybe in time he’d even realize what he’s done to himself, turned into a perfect, pretty single mommy, but it’d be too late to stop the arousal building behind his panels as the nesting phase kicks in and he starts cleaning the house top to bottom in preparation for the baby. Can’t stop the lubricant from drooling into his closed panel when mechanisms ask to touch his round, firm belly or complement him on his glow. Finally getting his overload as he takes his supplements while he picks out nursery furniture, riding the applicator like a dedicated single mommy should.

…and maybe the vids have some kind of underlying hypnotic qualities to help him along, meant to get him out of the way—whether by the Decepticons or the Autobots. But then again, maybe not.

you are so insane for this (affectionate). the wification of Sentinel continues… i love the word “conditioning” it brings up very exciting fantasies.

hgrhhh Sentinel watching pregnancy care videos with the toy slowly pumping nutritious fluid into his gestation tank, valve wet and throbbing the entire time, but he doesn’t allow himself to ride the applicator because he’s far too proud to admit, even to himself, that being pregnant turns him on. But it just keeps getting harder and harder to not move the more the videos assure him he’s going to be a great mommy - the words just make him feel so weird and so good, it’s almost… suspicious. But he doesn’t have the time to think about that. Of course he’ll be a good mommy. Who'd be a better fit than him? Slowly, over time, he starts to grind against the applicator, ceiling node crackling with charge, his spike pressurized just enough to hang out of its sheath, but staying limp as his frame directs all attention to his valve. He starts cleaning around the house more, panels leaking a little as he begins to get off to the fantasy of being a good housewife.

Sentinel using the applicator while thinking about all the people who’ve asked to touch his baby-bump since he’s started to show, imagining how jealous they must be of his pregnancy, how pathetic they are to invade his personal space just to get a piece of this. They must be able to tell he’s going to be a good mommy and are all envious. hgrhhh Sentinel casually browsing furniture for the nursery and riding the applicator like a pro, sinking his valve on it while holding the data-pad up to his face, valve squirting out fluids as he gets closer and closer to his overload. At this point he’s too horny to pretend his node doesn’t throb when he looks down and sees his pregnancy belly. He has to keep riding the applicator, he has to, he needs to get all those nutrients into his tank so that his baby is big and healthy. Maybe he overloads but the applicator is not done pumping, so he has to keep sitting on it while his array quivers, until all the fluids are drained and stored inside of his tank, fingers shaking as he keeps on picking out the nursery furniture.

#don’t do this to me... don’t pull up with the word ’’mommy’’ i can’t control myself #the shit we’re doing to sentinel... he deserves it (<- evil)#this is so good i have no words #pregnancy mention #valveplug #text

31 notes · View notes

jcmarchi · 1 year ago

Text

Hera Asteroid Mission Hears The Noise - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/hera-asteroid-mission-hears-the-noise-technology-org/

Hera Asteroid Mission Hears The Noise - Technology Org

ESA’s Hera asteroid mission has completed acoustic testing, confirming the spacecraft can withstand the sound of its lift-off into orbit.

Testing occurred within the Agency’s Large European Acoustic Facility at the ESTEC Test Centre in the Netherlands. This is Europe’s largest and most powerful sound system, fitted with a quartet of noise horns that can generate more than 154 decibels of extreme noise.

Hera being prepared for lifting into the LEAF chamber

Diego Escorial Olmos, Hera system engineer, comments: “Launch will be the single most stressful day of Hera’s life, so we have worked hard to simulate it during our mechanical test phase, first by vibrating the spacecraft on the ESTEC Test Centre’s shaker tables, and now by blasting it with a noise profile sourced from our launch provider, to be as true to life as possible.”

The LEAF chamber stands 11 m wide by 9 m deep and 16.4 m high. One of its walls is embedded with a set of enormous sound horns. Nitrogen shot through the horns can produce a range of noise up to more than 154 decibels, like standing close to multiple jets taking off at once.

As a safety feature, LEAF can operate only once its doors are closed. Steel-reinforced concrete walls safely contain its noise, which are also coated with epoxy resin to reflect noise to produce a uniform sound field within the chamber. The chamber itself is supported on rubber bearing pads to isolate it from its surroundings, preventing damage to the rest of the Test Centre – or nearby human observers.

Hera being lifted into LEAF

Hera was switched on for the test sessions, and placed in launch configuration, with its solar wings folded around its body and its fuel tanks filled with helium, nitrogen and water.

Ahead of testing it had been fitted with more than 130 accelerometers to chart the forces exerted on it then ringed by microphones to record the surrounding noise levels, to ensure the tests attain their planned volume.

ESA’s Hera asteroid mission inside the Large European Acoustic Facility, LEAF, being prepared for acoustic testing in October 2023. LEAF’s wall embedded with sound horns is visible to the left. Image credit: ESA-SJM Photography

ESA structures engineer Simon Whent, supporting the design of the Hera spacecraft structure and many of its payloads, comments: “Even though this acoustic testing has been exhaustively modelled ahead of time, it was still a nerve-wracking moment as the giant doors of the LEAF chamber close and then the horns are activated. Each test session lasts for just a minute – but that still seemed like a very long time as we waited to find out if Hera’s structure and components withstand the sound waves blasting it.”

Installing Hera in the LEAF for acoustic testing

ESA mechanical systems and structures engineer Cliff Ashcroft, who led the design of Hera’s central tube ‘backbone’, adds: “In reality, the highest, most damaging levels of acoustic pressure are felt during the early launch phase, generated at or close to lift-off, when the vibrations reflected from the pad and local facility bombard the departing launcher. It is a kind of final acoustic ‘pat on the back’ as the launcher and spacecraft depart from Earth.”

ESA’s Hera spacecraft in the Large European Acoustic Facility in October 2023. Hera had more than 130 accelerometers installed and had to be surrounded by microphones to record the sound waves reaching it before acoustic testing could be carried out. Image credit: ESA-SJM Photography

Hera is Europe’s contribution to an international planetary defence experiment. Following the DART mission’s impact with the Dimorphos asteroid last year – modifying its orbit and sending a plume of debris thousands of kilometres out into space – Hera will return to Dimorphos to perform a close-up survey of the crater left by DART.

The mission will also measure Dimorphos’ mass and make-up, along with that of the larger Didymos asteroid that Dimorphos orbits around.

Hera, her CubeSats, and their rocky target destination

Hera is scheduled for launch in October 2024, to rendezvous with the Didymos and Dimorphos asteroid system about two years later.

“The successful completion of Hera’s mechanical test phase sets us well on track to meet that deadline, thanks to the collective dedication of ESA’s Hera team, prime contractor OHB and European Test Services, managing the Test Centre for ESA,” comments Paolo Martino, leading the mission engineering team.

[embedded content]

“The remainder of this year will see the spacecraft undergoing various functional tests and preparation for its next important testing milestone – sustained operation in space-grade vacuum and temperature extremes within a thermal vacuum chamber, scheduled for early next year, followed by testing of the inter-satellite links that will keep Hera connected to the pair of CubeSats it will deploy in the vicinity of Dimorphos.”

Source: European Space Agency

You can offer your link to a page which is relevant to the topic of this post.

0 notes

indiantrade · 1 year ago

Text

Industrial Air Cooler

Industrial air coolers have Rust free Stainless steel tank of large capacity. Non-clogging type water distributor to ensure uniform flow of water over pads. 100% copper wounded electric motor for durability and Aluminium casing to ensure fast heat dissipation.

FEATURES : High static air pressure and long distance air delivery . Robust wired Remote controller . In-built single phase preventer ,short circuit and overload protection. High efficiency Honey Comb Cooling Pads with higher saturation levels. Heavy duty Submersible type water pump for continuous water supply.

0 notes

its-just-luci · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 23: Learning to Walk, Part I: Trial by Fire.

(Stevie Nicks, Edge of Seventeen)

Following the successful splashdown of Apollo 31-R, and the recovery of her crew, preparations began for the rollout of Apollo’s successor program’s maiden voyage. The officially-unnamed RS-IC Lifter rocket, alongside its dummy upper stage began the slow trip out to the pad. While the first fully-functional lifter, RS-IC-001 Liberty, had been rolled out to fanfare earlier that year this booster was different. Lacking a cockpit, as well as landing gear, parachutes, and reuse hardware, this booster was destined for but a single use, demonstrating the aerodynamic stability of the Space Transportation System. It was with this mission in mind that a group of engineers, possibly working alongside Boeing, or North American, or Marietta, broke into the VAB and spray painted the unnamed boosters wing. Trial By Fire it read, and it would be one hell of a trial indeed.

Somewhat unamused, NASA continued their plans to roll out the booster for its january 1978 launch window. By new years, the rocket was on the pad, illuminated by the fluorescent lights surrounding the stack. Over the years, LC-39A and LC-39B had received a series of upgrades. These upgrades prepared the two pads to withstand the full thrust of the lifter’s 6 F-1A main engines, as well as integrate more readily with the new crawler-transporters. These changes coincided with the wind-down of Project Apollo, happening silently in its wake, and preparing the cape for a new monolithic rocket to loom on its horizons.

STS-1 was to demonstrate the lifter’s aerodynamics and thermal protection system on a suborbital hop, proving the system ready for Liberty’s maiden voyage. As December became January, and days turned to weeks, the system was facing a number of problems. First, the boosters computers were refusing to cooperate, then the engines were misbehaving. As engineers solved one issue, it seemed two took their place. The launch slipped into February, but before long, pad technicians claimed to have gotten all the gremlins. The rocket began fueling up that morning, preparing for its first and final chance at glory. As it finished fueling its tanks, the countdown entered its final phase, and within minutes the rocket lifted off the pad with a thunderous roar even louder than that of the Soviet’s N1.

Public Affairs Officer: Liftoff, we have a liftoff, 45 minutes past the hour, STS-1 has cleared the tower!

The rocket rose into the heavens, slowly spinning to face its back towards the ground. Once the rocket had performed its roll maneuver, it began slowly pitching over, sending the nearly 500 ton mass simulator up and out over the Atlantic. Just over two minutes after liftoff, the rocket cut its main engines, separating the mass simulator and beginning a slow, pre-programmed, flip over maneuver. The rocket then acted as it would in a real flight, holding this attitude for the duration of its boostback burn, before nosing down towards the Earth below. The lifter was now in space, drifting nearly ninety miles overhead; Before long though it began its descent, punching through the Earth’s atmosphere and beginning its plunge towards the sea.

The heatshield held, and the booster sent back the oh so critical data it had been designed to collect. Without a pilot, however, the vehicle entered an uncontrolled spin at an altitude of 150,000 feet, breaking up before impacting the atlantic below. The vehicle had survived hellfire, but not its own aerodynamics; This however, was more than enough to convince NASA: The design was safe, and all subsequent STS flights would carry crew along to bring the booster back in one piece.

By year's end, STS would see yet another flight. This would be the first of two piloted missions carrying the same mass-simulator upper stage, and demonstrating flawlessly that piloted recovery could be performed. These flights also gave NASA their first look at what a booster coming back from space looked like, and to no one at the agency’s surprise, Liberty held up flawlessly. The booster would perform a second demonstration flight 4 months later, marking its first turnaround, and its second flight to space. Joe Engle, Fred Haise, Richard Truly and Charles Fullerton would all take their turn flying Liberty, gaining them the experience needed to eventually pilot a spacecraft down from orbit.

By 1979, the STS was ready for its first operational testflight. The first S-IIB, consisting of an External Tank and ERD was mated to the launcher, and Liberty began her next rollout to the pad. Her titanium skin was holding up well, easily handling the heat generated by the mach 6 entry she faced, and the supersonic mach 1.3 flight she sustained on her trips back to the KSC. Her jet engines were performing nominally, and as engineers had expected, her F-1A engines were holding up to repeated use flawlessly. Before long Liberty would need an engine refit, however this was still a few flights away; For now, the rocket sat alone on the launchpad, awaiting her crew to deliver the STS’s first orbital mission to space.

Launch Commentator: We are at T-minus ten minutes to flight. We can see Liberty’s six main engines performing their pre-planned gimbal check.

Capcom: Good Gimbal, Four-

Haise: Roger that.

Launch Commentator: We have a good gimbal check here at T-minus eight minutes to liftoff.

If you turned off the mundane chatter of mission controllers, astronauts and commentators you would be hard pressed to determine that the vehicle was a new system. STS was performing near-flawlessly, and had been for multiple flights. Liberty proved to be a much less temperable beast than many had feared; This leaving few with doubts that this Saturn-derived lifter could perform its design-minimum of 8 flights per year. If all went well, the lifters were to be capable of nearly a dozen flights a year, if not more. This goal was still many years out, but NASA was quickly learning which repairs and refurbishments were necessary, and how often they would be needed.

The F-1A’s were appearing to have a much longer lifespan than previously anticipated. With each booster getting an annual checkup, or once per 8 flights, whichever came first, the engines were originally expected to be removed and refitted. While NASA intended to keep to this schedule early on, it appeared the engines may be able to fly nearly a dozen times without major refurbishments being needed; This would doubtless bring down operational and maintenance costs as the system matured, but even in its infancy, the Space Transportation System was showing major cost benefits over the Saturn V that preceded it.

Launch Commentator: As we approach the six minute mark, the crew access arm has retracted. Liberty’s ejection capsule has now been armed- and, in the case of an emergency, crews would be able to escape the rocket following an accident. We are inside the T-minus 5 minute window.

Capcom: Alright, vehicle’s fully pressurized, the External Tank is doing her job dang well.

Young: Roger good press, Houston-

Haise: And we’re glad to hear our payload upstairs is behaving-

Capcom: Good Aerodynamic Surfaces, Liberty.

Haise: Roger.

Launch Commentator: Spacecraft Communicator Dan Bradenstein has confirmed that the Lifter’s control surfaces are moving as intended, allowing the spacecraft to glide back to the launch site after deploying the external tank and engine capsule.

…

Launch Commentator: As we approach the one and a half minute mark, Crew members have closed and locked their helmet visors, allowing their personal oxygen supplies to activate in the case of a depressurization event-

Capcom: T-minus Sixty

Launch Commentator: Crews have switched the Lifter to internal guidance, allowing the vehicle to guide the astronauts onto their orbital track-

Capcom: 30.

Launch Commentator: The launch sequencer has now switched to allow auto sequence start, allowing Liberty to call the shots here-

Capcom: 12… 11… 10-

Launch Commentator: T-minus ten-

Capcom: 9… 8

Launch Commentator: 7… 6-

Capcom: Main engine startup-

Haise: Full throttle, darlin-

Launch Commentator: 4… 3… 2… 1-

Capcom: Bolt-fire

Launch Commentator: Liftoff, Liftoff of STS-4 on her way to orbit!

(Liftoff of STS-4)

Launch Commentator: Liberty has cleared the tower!

Liberty continued her climb upwards, rolling over into a belly-up position as she pitched towards the rising sun. Fading into the clouds over the Floridian coast, all spectators could hear was the deafening crackle of her 6 main engines.

Haise: Okay Houston, we have shutdown of the center engines (unintelligible) ready to go.

Capcom: Roger, Liberty

…

Young: J-2 Ignition- Main engine shutdown-

Haise: Stage sep, and… … … yep, we got a good interstage separation-

Capcom: Roger that, 4.

(S-IIB interstage. July 14, 1979.)

Young: Alright, easy does it, mark- nose up.

Haise: Ignition-

(STS Lifter Liberty performs a boostback maneuver.)

Capcom: Roger, solid ignition Liberty, enjoy the view up there-

Haise: Don’t have to tell us twice- engines are healthy, T-minus 20 to MECO.

Young: MECO. On our way home, baby!

Launch Commentator: Space Lifter Liberty has performed its boostback maneuver and is now heading back to the launch site.

Lasting just under a minute, Liberty’s twin center engines throttled up once more and arrested the majority of her horizontal velocity, placing her on a course to just barely undershoot the Kennedy space center’s Shuttle and Lifter Landing Facilities (SLLF). Before long she had encountered the atmosphere, entering a brutal 2.7G entry corridor. Reaction control thrusters located on her nose and engine shrouds allowed the booster to remain in a steady, nose up attitude. This maximized her drag, whilst distributing the load evenly across the wing, ultimately minimizing stress on the lifter’s airframe.

Haise: 2.5… 2.6, leveling out

Young: Alright, 120,000 feet, leveling out.

Haise: Descending-

…

Click.

Haise: Thirty thousand, get em open for me

Young: Engine intake opened-

Capcom: Roger good intake open,

Haise: All engines running-

Launch Commentator: As we approach T-Plus three and a half minutes after separation, Lifter-Commander Fred Haise and Lifter-Pilot John Young have started Liberties 8 turbojet engines, allowing her to extend her range and return safely to the launch site.

Capcom: Go for return.

Young: Roger, engine out capability attained

Haise: We’re on glide slope now, babe.

The S-IIB continued upwards, pushing its trajectory higher and further out and across the atlantic. As the booster came into view from the space center crowds cheered as a triple sonic boom rang out; Liberty announced her presence, and with her came another announcement over the intercom.

Launch Commentator: We have a report of fairing deploy-

Haise: Gooooood Morning Florida!

Young: Woo-Hoo!

Capcom: Handing you off to L-Com, 4.

Landing Communicator: We see you on approach to the SLLF, Liberty.

Haise: Roger Visual, L-Com.

Young: Alignment cone start-

Liberty entered the heading alignment cone, allowing her to begin descending and adjusting to the correct heading for landing. Before long she had exited the alignment cone and commander Fred Haise took over manual control. John Young guided him down as he approached the runway-

Young: Alright looking good, 500.

Haise: Gonna get the gear-

Young: Good, 400.

Haise: Gettin down-

Young: Gear deployed- 250.

…

Young: Little high, little high

Haise: Roger-

Young: 100

Haise: Nosing down a hair-

Young: 60 feet

…

Young: 30 Feet

…

Young: 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4- Touch.

Haise: Rear gear down.

Young: Keep her steady, nose down, nose down-

Haise: Down-

Young: 4, 3, 2-

Haise: Touch, chute deploy-

Landing Communicator: Congrats on a beautiful landing, Liberty. Your ERD made orbit just a few minutes ago-

Haise: Thanks a bunch!

As 1979 came to a close, Liberty would perform a fourth flight, demonstrating the capabilities of the system to deliver some 80 tons of ballast to orbit. While still shy of the system's potential payload, this demonstrated the capabilities necessary to fly the next mission, STS-6. The Kennedy and Marshall Space Flight Centers had their work cut out for them preparing the shuttle for its maiden voyage. Meanwhile across the globe, An N-1 rocket sat poised for launch at Baikonur, Kazakhstan. Sitting atop this rocket was a wholly new payload, Salyut 6. Salyut 6 was to depart dramatically from the designs of previous stations, being grown and adapted to the N1’s gargantuan capabilities.

The N1F leapt off the pad, roaring to life as its lunar bound predecessors had years before. The rocket rolled to its flight attitude, and soon dropped its first stage. The massive fairings would deploy to reveal a station module similar in shape to those before it, yet dramatically larger in size. The new station rivaled America’s Skylab, and would soon host crews of soviet cosmonauts conducting Earth and Space studies from within its hull.

The vehicle successfully reached orbit, deploying the nearly 70 ton Salyut 6 into orbit before flipping about face, and reentering Earth’s atmosphere. Baikonur had once again been filled with the deafening sound of thunder, and once more the silence returned. The dust settled and the USSR soon began preparations for the station's first crew, all the while in the United States, the KSC and MSFC prepared to debut the next element of the Space Transportation System: Kitty Hawk.

#coa #alternate history #children of apollo #apollo #space #spaceflight #space shuttle #alt history #COA Alternate History

0 notes

nasa · 4 years ago

Text

The Big Build: Artemis I Stacks Up

Our Space Launch System (SLS) rocket is coming together at the agency’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida this summer. Our mighty SLS rocket is set to power the Artemis I mission to send our Orion spacecraft around the Moon. But, before it heads to the Moon, NASA puts it together right here on Earth.

Read on for more on how our Moon rocket for Artemis I will come together this summer:

Get the Base

How do crews assemble a rocket and spacecraft as tall as a skyscraper? The process all starts inside the iconic Vehicle Assembly Building at Kennedy with the mobile launcher. Recognized as a Florida Space Coast landmark, the Vehicle Assembly Building, or VAB, houses special cranes, lifts, and equipment to move and connect the spaceflight hardware together. Orion and all five of the major parts of the Artemis I rocket are already at Kennedy in preparation for launch. Inside the VAB, teams carefully stack and connect the elements to the mobile launcher, which serves as a platform for assembly and, later, for fueling and launching the rocket.

Start with the boosters

Because they carry the entire weight of the rocket and spacecraft, the twin solid rocket boosters for our SLS rocket are the first elements to be stacked on the mobile launcher inside the VAB. Crews with NASA’s Exploration Ground Systems and contractor Jacobs team completed stacking the boosters in March. Each taller than the Statue of Liberty and adorned with the iconic NASA “worm” logo, the five-segment boosters flank either side of the rocket’s core stage and upper stage. At launch, each booster produces more than 3.6 million pounds of thrust in just two minutes to quickly lift the rocket and spacecraft off the pad and to space.

Bring in the core stage

In between the twin solid rocket boosters is the core stage. The stage has two huge liquid propellant tanks, computers that control the rocket’s flight, and four RS-25 engines. Weighing more than 188,000 pounds without fuel and standing 212 feet, the core stage is the largest element of the SLS rocket. To place the core stage in between the two boosters, teams will use a heavy-lift crane to raise and lower the stage into place on the mobile launcher.

On launch day, the core stage’s RS-25 engines produce more than 2 million pounds of thrust and ignite just before the boosters. Together, the boosters and engines produce 8.8 million pounds of thrust to send the SLS and Orion into orbit.

Add the Launch Vehicle Stage Adapter

Once the boosters and core stage are secured, teams add the launch vehicle stage adapter, or LVSA, to the stack. The LVSA is a cone-shaped element that connects the rocket’s core stage and Interim Cryogenic Propulsion Stage (ICPS), or upper stage. The roughly 30-foot LVSA houses and protects the RL10 engine that powers the ICPS. Once teams bolt the LVSA into place on top of the rocket, the diameter of SLS will officially change from a wide base to a more narrow point — much like a change in the shape of a pencil from eraser to point.

Lower the Interim Cryogenic Propulsion Stage into place

Next in the stacking line-up is the Interim Cryogenic Propulsion Stage or ICPS. Like the LVSA, crews will lift and bolt the ICPS into place. To help power our deep space missions and goals, our SLS rocket delivers propulsion in phases. At liftoff, the core stage and solid rocket boosters will propel Artemis I off the launch pad. Once in orbit, the ICPS and its single RL10 engine will provide nearly 25,000 pounds of thrust to send our Orion spacecraft on a precise trajectory to the Moon.

Nearly there with the Orion stage adapter

When the Orion stage adapter crowns the top of the ICPS, you’ll know we’re nearly complete with stacking SLS rocket for Artemis I. The Orion Stage Adapter is more than just a connection point. At five feet in height, the Orion stage adapter may be small, but it holds and carries several small satellites called CubeSats. After Orion separates from the SLS rocket and heads to the Moon, these shoebox-sized payloads are released into space for their own missions to conduct science and technology research vital to deep space exploration. Compared to the rest of the rocket and spacecraft, the Orion stage adapter is the smallest SLS component that’s stacked for Artemis I.

Top it off

Finally, our Orion spacecraft will be placed on top of our Moon rocket inside the VAB. The final piece will be easy to spot as teams recently added the bright red NASA “worm” logotype to the outside of the spacecraft. The Orion spacecraft is much more than just a capsule built to carry crew. It has a launch abort system, which will carry the crew to safety in case of an emergency, and a service module developed by the European Space Agency that will power and propel the spacecraft during its three-week mission. On the uncrewed Artemis I mission, Orion will check out the spacecraft’s critical systems, including navigation, communications systems, and the heat shield needed to support astronauts who will fly on Artemis II and beyond.

Ready for launch!

The path to the pad requires many steps and check lists. Before Artemis I rolls to the launch pad, teams will finalize outfitting and other important assembly work inside the VAB. Once assembled, the integrated SLS rocket and Orion will undergo several final tests and checkouts in the VAB and on the launch pad before it’s readied for launch.

The Artemis I mission is the first in a series of increasingly complex missions that will pave the way for landing the first woman and the first person of color on the Moon. The Space Launch System is the only rocket that can send NASA astronauts aboard NASA’s Orion spacecraft and supplies to the Moon in a single mission.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#NASA #Artemis #Moon #Space Launch System #rocket science #space #space exploration #exploration #spaceflight #Orion spacecraft #Artemis I #Kennedy Space Center #Vehicle Assembly Building

1K notes · View notes

gaiuswrites · 3 years ago

Text

Ashore

Part one | Open Waters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie leave the beach with only one thing on your minds.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k~

Warnings/tags: smut, ✨butt stuff✨, oral (f receiving), some lovey-dovey shit

Notes: Here we are friends. You don’t necessarily have to read Open Waters to understand the contents of this chapter (considering it’s mostly just booty bumpin’). You can thank heathens @javierpcna and @whataperfectwasteoftime for the debauchery to follow. It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m genuinely nervous to post this lol but alas. We have arrived. Is it shit? Is it pure filth? Who’s to say hehehe. Cheers bebes x

Masterlist | read it on ao3!

The worst part was, you had to get gas.

Frankie drives. You sit beside him.

The return trip is hushed with anticipation—with sullied stain-glass imagery occupying the void. You've said next to nothing since you packed into the car; the only noise comes from the radio—the preset station phasing in and out as you wind along the backroads leading away from the shore—Journey, Jimi, Led Zep and the like all crackling dry through the speakers.

Everything, each micro-movement, feels stifling— like burning ants under a magnifying glass— each gesture riddled with intention, Frankie’s words echoing clear in the caverns of your mind.

He glances left right at an intersection.

‘Anything?’

He flips on the turn signal, blinking one two one two one two.

‘You gonna let me have your tight little ass?’

He steers the wheel with the heel of his palm.

‘When I cum, it’s gonna be here—filling you up.’

The engine rumbles as you idle at a red light—stalling. Dawdling. The sun spills lazily from the horizon, draining the last of the afternoon’s light with it, bleeding the sky scarlet—emboldening the horizon— and you watch as the setting glow catches the hair on his arm—there, resting on the console between you. His hand fists over the gear, knuckles creasing as they tense around the worn, leathered head. You’re playing a game—a silent, ruleless game. You know he can sense you observing him, can feel the heat of your gaze weigh on the flex of his fingers—the same fingers that had ripped an orgasm out of you not two hours before.

You almost unbuckle your damn seatbelt and fly out of your chair. You nearly break with it, with the unspoken tension filling the car like gas and fuck, how you crave him; how you yearn to put those fingers in your mouth and suck—lave the summer clean off his digits and bob around the long width and—

The light turns green.

Frankie resumes his hand to the wheel, your lewd fantasy dissipating along with it.

It’s minuscule. You would have missed it save the fact that you’re so acutely aware of every fucking breath you two share in the aluminum confines of your old Jeep. It’s a subtle thing: Frankie adjusts his hips— innocent enough— but your eyes flicker over to find the groin of his drying swim trunks tented.

You’re not ashamed to say it— your mouth fucking waters, you salivate— and as if on cue, he squirms again, seeking relief from both the blood rushing south and the blister of your stare. His lips part— the rasp of an inhale as he prepares to speak—before his focus is torn down to the dashboard, an orange symbol popping up in the gauge stealing his attention.

“Shit,” Frankie mumbles under his breath. Looking around, he scans for a nearby station and groans at the realization that he’s just passed one, spotting it in the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

You swivel towards the passenger side window, attempting to hide the I told you so expression pulling wry at your mouth. Not that you’ll hang it over him, but you did inform Frankie that the tank was empty on the way to the beach. You hear another muffled curse come from the man beside you, and the world goes topsy-turvy and reverses itself— the act of Frankie making a grumbled U-turn.

He puts the gear into park with a huff, Van Halen’s solo abruptly cut short mid chord.

The car door opens with a rusty squeal and Frankie clambers out, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his card through the reader at the pump—but not before he squeezes a palm into the plush of your thigh, thumb searing like a brand into your skin. I’ll be quick.

Fuck, you could have cum right then.

Your gaze follows his movements, dogging after him as he waits on the gas to fill— arms folded across his chest, strong build leaning on the frame of your car.

It’s not a novel concept to you, but God is that man broad. The ratty t-shirt he wears clings to him, pulled taut between the plane of his shoulders, the cut of his tricep apparent even from your vantage point; the corded muscle running up his neck flashing as he watches the digital numbers on the screen tick higher.

Shit, you’re aching for him— you can feel yourself throb into the crotch of your swimsuit. You’d have him right here—in the backseat, steaming up the glass— if it weren’t for the overencumbered bags and rickety beach chairs crowding the space.

With herculean effort, you wrench your eyes off him in search of a distraction, letting them drift to the dark flooring of the car. It’s been dirtied—white flecks speckling the interior—and you won’t be able to get the sand out of the matted carpets for weeks. It’s a nuisance, to be sure, but you have to admit that you’re sort of fond of it; little memories, vestiges in the grains, lingering long after the season ends.

Hello, remember me? each granule chirped, remember when we laughed giddy for hours, maddened by the grace of the sun? Remember when we burned red that time we forgot sunscreen? Remember when we bought soft serve from the surf shack and it globbed sticky down our wrists? Remember when we when we when when when…

Frankie, ever practical, hates it. It’s a pain in the ass, he’s told you, regaling you with the woes only a mechanic would care to know. It ruins the upholstery.

You’ve had your exchanges about the topic—your faux-squabbled back and forths—and yet despite himself, he can’t help but like that you like it. Conceptually, he gets it—it annoys him to kingdom fucking come and he’ll almost certainly take the vacuum to the mats first thing tomorrow, but he understands. He understands it.

He understands you.

You’re like that, you and him. You’re different. You are made of different things, a compository of fractures and fragments. Mosaic tiles. You don’t quite fit—not all of you—but you never force the pieces into any sort of place. You admire each other’s mismatched bits, those sweetly quilted jigsaws, and you hold each one up to the light and point at the unique curves, the notches and swoops there, and say I love you, I love this, I love this too.

When Frankie keys up the ignition and puts the car in drive, he keeps his hand on your lap. Arm resting over the median dividing you, calloused palm sealing over your quad, his fingertips knead a pulse into the meat of your leg with each bump in the poorly paved road— a reminder. A vow. Almost home.

You think he does it just to torture you.

It fucking works.

The sound of laughter parts the front door as you enter— Frankie had made some colorful comment about your absolute favorite neighbors, the ones who always leave their damn garbage bins in front of your driveway— and your key ring clatters as it hits the bowl on the side table.

You discard the bags, plopping the sandy things down in the entryway, and kick off your sandals— bare soles padding along lacquered wood paneling as you head to the kitchen for some much needed water.

The sound of the tap running camouflages Frankie’s movement, you don’t hear him behind you. He’s got stealth in him, harbored there from before. He’s light on his feet when he chooses to be—nimble-like, bordering on feline—and you startle with a bubbly chuckle when you spin around to discover him far closer than you anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us hydrated,” you grin, as if it were obvious. You’re welcome.

He hums, the note rumbling against the cage of his ribs, and lessens the distance between you with a single stride. “That can wait.”

He rids you of the glasses, hurriedly placing them on the counter, and meets you in a kiss—and fuck can that man kiss. Frankie, like with all things, is responsive—attentive. His lips are fever-laced and wanton, and he roves against yours like they’re designed to— fated for no one else’s but your own— nipping and tonguing at your honeyed whines, orphaned there in the well of your mouth.

His hands vine up your body, so deprived of the luxury of your form - of touch - and he grabs at anything he can— your hips, your waist, your breasts through the cotton of your shirt— their half moon curves sitting ripe in his palms.

After ushering you up to the countertop, he strips you of your jean shorts, your bikini bottom sloughing down your calves along with them, and hoists your feet onto the fake granite, prying your legs wide for him.

When he gets an eyeful of your gleaming pussy, pearled with arousal, the wind gets punched straight out of him.

“Jesus honey,” he groans, “you been like this the whole ride home?”

Your brain is numb, lagging with lust. You don’t trust your voice to speak—all you can do is nod.

“Poor thing,” he simpers. “Poor pretty thing, all wound up for me—all wet.”

You whimper at his tone—graveled, just shy of condescending—and your knees weaken shut before he snatches them apart.

“Sit still.”

It’s a command, there’s no room for disobedience; he orders it with a soldier's voice—that dead thing he wears like dog tags around his neck. Vice grip widening your legs, Frankie sinks down onto his shins, head leveled with your core, engrossed with the sight of your damp sex quivering.

Blotchy warmth creeps up your neck, like ivy crawling over brick.

He’s staring at you— hungry and possessed and simply staring at your open cunt and you begin to fidget once more—riling under his umbered appraisal.

“Sit still baby girl,” he murmurs, softer now and desperate too—intoxicated with the heady perfume of your heat. “Lemme just— fuck, I gotta taste you…”

When he swipes the deft muscle of his tongue through your slit, your head careens back onto the cabinets, plates and bowls rattling behind the wood.

Oh god, Frankie.

He’s got a talent for this— an excruciating, body wracking talent. He thirsts for you something dangerous, something unquenchable; he tugs at your labia, forming his lips around your clit, lapping at your essence— the ocean musk, that sea foam wet.

You fumble through his hair, mussing the saline woven strands with urgent fingers as you grind grind grind, rolling your hips to meet him in a covetous show of want and he purrs into your pussy as you fuck his face, the scratch of his stubble chafing at your legs.

It doesn’t take long, not with the fervor of how he’s claiming your cunt with his mouth. You soak Frankie’s chin— you nearly fucking drown him with it—and he’s glistening with you when he finally emerges for air, pulling you to him to slant his lips against yours, letting you savor your own taste on his hot tongue.

“Bedroom. Now,” he husks, breath hitching as his nose grazes along your ear, and with two hands under your armpits, he gathers you off the countertop. Frankie lands a swat at the plump of your backside, sending you scurrying through the living room with a shriek—completely bypassing the abandoned pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

He smirks—delirious and ramrod stiff—sauntering behind you, enamored with the pendulum sway of your hips as you lead him to the bed.

You’ve never been here. You’ve never gone this far. You both have tiptoed this narrow line for months; he’s fingered your ass plenty—you have even gone so far as to don a butt plug. You’ve discussed anal—toyed with the idea, flirted in circles around it like tittering birds.

But you’ve never taken Frankie’s cock. Not yet.

He’s been working you loose and limber for the better part of fifteen minutes, delving himself knuckle deep into your slicked hole until you’re sputtering for more— until you’re downright sopping and fucking shaking— and not with trepidation but with desire. Frankie’s made you gluttonous. Frankie’s made you voracious.

You’re starving for him.

“You gonna let me have this now?” He presses a digit over your ass, kissing his thumb into the knot there.

You tremble, nodding frantic.

“Think this pretty little ass can take me, baby?”

He serves you a slap, plush skin jiggling and pricking pink under his palm. You keen into him, in search of the promise he’s been baiting you with and you arch your hips, gyrating back onto fucking nothing.

“Yes. Yes—” You twist, chin corkscrewed around to see him. You want to watch. You want to watch as he disappears inside you— as you swallow him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly gone gentle around the lines fraying from his eyes—those wrinkles he’s hard-earned and won, like badges, like medals—from all his years spent under an unforgiving sun, all of that which he has seen and endured. Survived. Your Frankie, always thoughtful, always checking. A goddamn gentleman, even now—even as his dick brays hard and angry against the soft of his tawny stomach. “Because really, we don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a whimper, splaying your pelvis up to him—spreading yourself, letting him see the filth dripping from your seam, dappling your inner thighs. “Fuck me,” you whine, both holes puckering for him. “Fill me up, like you said you would— please.”

Something shifts across his features like a shadow and his expression morphs until it steels— his pupils dilating to a predatorial onyx— and he spits into his palm, coating his shaft, jerking himself with it.

He hisses as he guides himself into you, as you accommodate around him, as you envelop him entirely— inch by veritable inch. He has to station a hand to the base of your lumbar, struggling to maintain his composure—air rattling in and out his lungs as he attempts to breathe.

“Shit,” he gasps, “t-this okay?”

You fist the comforter, coiling the fabric into a ball. It’s a stretch— it’s a real goddamn stretch— and briefly you consider that he might, in fact, snap you in two...

Francisco Morales is going to split you clean in half—and God, if you don’t you love it.

“Yes - yes baby - keep going. D-Don’t stop.”

He pitches into you, setting a legato tempo— transfixed by the lurid juncture where you converge into one. “You- you’re so tight. Shit, you’re—”

He silences himself with a delicious moan, biting at his lower lip until the vessels there burst and it purples, and deals a particularly aggressive thrust— one you respond to with an ugly wail of your own, eyes somersaulting in their sockets.

You’re both impatient, verging on rabid, and it doesn’t take long for him to set a rougher pace and fuck you faster - harder - hammering into your ass until you see stars, popping and fizzing in front of your retinas, a symphony of guttural grunts and carnal praise fogging up the bedroom.

Your pussy feels so empty you could cry—weeping and gaping and fluttering for him as he takes your tight ring of muscle, fucking himself to the hilt. It’s like he’s behind your brain—like he’s carved his way up your spine and nudging at the nape of your neck with how deep he’s driving into you—restless. Ceaseless. His balls slap slap slap against your puffy cunt and you pant— girlish and buoyant with the dulled smacks to your sore clit.

“Please,” you sob, “Please, I need—”

You can barely push the words out—your mind is of no help and your tongue lolls useless, languid in your mouth. Your motor functions have all but puttered to a halt, every scrap of you fighting to stay above the sensation that’s threatening to drag you under its current. The rip tide of it all, of Frankie’s cock, coursing through your ass, tempting to hurdle you out into the dark, wet blue.

“Tell me,” Frankie rasps, scraping through his throat. “Tell me, pretty baby.”

Your response is pathetic—you can hardly dignify it as a response at all. Your temple is pressed into the mattress, hair knotted with brine and sand, and all you can do is coo.

Frankie folds over you, angling himself to graze his teeth over your shoulder—savoring the salt and sex tang bathing your skin, all those pheromones and velveteen chemicals anointing you—baptizing you anew for him. He’s gruff when he murmurs, his beard grating your freshly tanned skin.

“C’mon sweetheart - hng, fuck - what do you need?”

“My clit,” you rush out, needy. “My clit. Please, oh my god Frankie I-I need you to, I need – oh fuck—” And your pleas are mummed by a rapturous moan as he trails his hand from the hollow of your hip to the apex of your cleft and flicks.

Fuck. Fuck, oh Christ—

There’s a ringing in your ears, buzzing you deaf, making you dumb—or maybe it’s just your heart, beating loud and errant against your skull—you can’t say. You don’t feel human. Frankie’s pounding into that cinched channel and playing with your clit—swiveling eddies into your swollen nub—and you feel like an animal. You feel debased. You feel disgusting and perfect and you’re fucking drooling; cheek squished and mouth agape, saliva pools from your wagging maw, darkening the white linen you’re being driven into.

“You need me in your pussy, too?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer him— he already knows what you need, how you need to have every part of you gorged on him— and Frankie dips his fingertips into your entrance, hooking them up and up and in, fucking in time to the cant of his hips.

He’s in you. Everywhere, everywhere—every possible neuron and synapse consumed with him.

“You need me like this—fucking you this deep? Fucking both your pretty holes?” he growls, weaving his hand lower to grab a fistful of your hair, rucking your head up. Throat stretched bare for him, your mewls muddle to cock-drunk cries as he spears you on himself again and again and again.

Yes yes yes fuck harder please please Frankie

You're pleading with him—you’ve been reduced to meager begging— and a chorus of slurs sings your release as you contract around him and cum, the cradle of your hips bucking reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he seethes, “you’re so good for me baby, Jesus fuck—”

He’s close now—his blissed finish drawing nearer and nearer with each sharp snap of his hips. Frankly, he’s shocked he’s managed to last as long as he has; it’s a small miracle he hadn’t cum the instant he slotted himself inside you with that very first stroke.

“Baby,” he warns, losing his rhythm. You saddle your spine, hollowing out the valley of your back and arch pretty and supple for him— preening under his weight. He moans at that, and through your fucked out haze you have the wherewithal to smirk at him, devious and prideful, a wild look owning your eye.

Frankie has to brace himself on your hips, untangling from your locks to bruise into the pillow of your skin— gripping on for dear fucking life as he plows you. You’re strangling him. You’re strangling the thick of his cock until he’s dizzy with it—until he’s feral and blind and he can’t hold on, can’t keep fighting this fucking monsoon that’s raging in his core.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—fuck me, oh shit—” He shouts, spurting inside you thrust for thrust, painting your virgin walls with his seed. It’s too much— after all that, and you’re still too tight— and he’s overstimulated to the point of delirium. Frankie roots himself still, cum dribbling out your stuffed hole while he rides out the high of his orgasm—his vision, his senses, his goddamn soul, slowly oozing back into him. When he slides free from you, he does so with a pained heave, leaving you yawning with his absence.

You feel shredded. Vacant. You’ve been sent to another fucking dimension all together.

Without wasting another second, Frankie claws you up. You’re easy and malleable, bones and muscles too strung out to protest, and he whirls you around to bar you to his chest—crushing your sweaty body to his with bullet marred arms— the same arms that have taken lives, that have spared them, too. The same arms that link around you, delicate and daisy-chained, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

And you are.

You are.

Frankie kisses you breathless, drinking rich from your cup— tongue greedy and reverent as he kneels there at your altar, praying his sins into your mouth.

So gorgeous, he croons, peppering your face—your flushed cheeks, your perspired brow—with his lips as he tells you over and over and over again.

So good for me, pretty baby

Was that okay?

Fuck, you’re a dream

You’re my best girl—you’re my only girl

Was that okay?

God, you’re my whole fucking world

Was that okay? Was I okay?

Are you okay?

You swoon, helpless to the contented sigh that seeps out from you like mist. You’ve gone limp against the breadth of him. He has reduced you to rubber, left wobbling in his grasp, and you’re so damn full—your heart and your body—all of it. You feel unequivocally complete. You feel safe, you feel home.

You are home. Francisco is home.

He’s flattening out the nest of your hair, taming the damage he previously delivered to it, earning from you a sleepy grin into the muggy crook of his neck. And with the last of your waning strength you hold his pieces up to the light—the light you left on in the hall as the night grew dark around you, the one who’s yellow glow your naked bodies bask in now, and you say

I love you

I love this

I love this too

tags:

@krissology @heartsofbeskar @madhattervanessa @andiesturgss @sharkbait77 @tenderwhat @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @frannyzooey @chasingdreamer @djarinsbeskar @thosewickedlovelies @juletheghoul @not-the-droids @filthybookworm @pilothusband @letterfromvienna @keeper0fthestars @greatcircle79 @day-off-inkyoto @mermaidxatxheart @lawfulgranola @heatherbel @quica-quica-quica @stuckonthefiction @janesbrontes

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #Frankie morales fanfic #Frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie x reader

395 notes · View notes

mysweetestcreature · 5 years ago

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 11: Kiss Me

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Thursday November 27, 2008

“One more.”

“They’re probably wondering where we’ve gone!”

“Just one more, please.”

“We’ve already been here for more than half an hour.”

Harry tightens his hold around her waist, stroking her sides in soothing reciprocating motions as the pads of his fingers trace along the creases in her shirt. “Kiss me again,” he begs, burying his nose into the curve of her neck. For the first time in his life, he feels completely content. Words to describe it are beyond inconceivable, not a single phrase can do justice to sum it all up. He had tried to imagine what this would be like in the early hours of the morning before even the sun sets its alarm. And yet, none could have even come close to this feeling of bliss, a paradise of their own where everything around them is nearly nonexistent.

The movement of his lips against her skin as they form into a cheeky smile is enough to send goosebumps up her spine. She runs her palms up his chest and lets her hands curl around his shoulders until her middle fingers hook together as they tangle through his brown curls. Her cheek presses up against the side of his head, and she can’t help that sense of relief that makes it feel like she’s floating. Having experienced such a burden of uncertainty from the very onset of their relationship (and yes, she means relationship in a romantic sense –– how could she not after tonight?) she would have never expected the accumulation of all those heartbreaks –– both big and small –– to transform into something as wonderful as this. “Just one,” she giggles into his ear. “But then we really have to move it because I can’t imagine Mason being very happy that I’ve stolen his best friend away.”

“It’s all I’m asking,” and he lifts his head up, dimples dressing his cheeks as he wriggles his eyebrows. “Now, c’mere.”

Pulling her closer between his legs, he starts with small pecks along the underside of her chin. They become slower, more concentrated in certain areas as they move up and linger at the side of her mouth. His lips hover over hers, and he stares at them with half-hooded eyes. The way her lips part as they make subtle contact with each small movement of their heaving chests only makes this all the more enticing.

Unable to dawdle at such a teasing phase for much longer, Harry closes the gap that separates them. It’s unhurried, nearly sensual. Two longing persons finding exhilaration as their lips move fluidly together as though it were second nature. The temperate flavoring of strawberry or cherry or something just as fruitful and sweet once again finds its way to coat the tip of his tongue and cause the ends of his mouth to curve up as he finds fulfillment in ravishing her like this.

She’s the first to pull away, pushing lightly against his chest just to catch a breath. He’s quick, however, to entertain her once more with one last suckle of her bottom lip. He isn’t sure when he’ll be able to kiss her again once they’ve joined the others downstairs, nor does he want to envision a time when they won’t be locked together and surprisingly uninterrupted by a chaotic world full of mountains and treacherous seas.

“That was two!” she gasps, but the premature stages of a simper rebel against her, and she fails to display any mask of displeasure. “Don’t be greedy.”

“We can be as greedy as we want. We’ve waited an eternity for this to happen,” he counters before settling for a tight embrace as he stands from his sitting position on the bed. With his height now towering over her, he looks down and chuckles when she rolls her eyes at him.

Y/n scoffs playfully and shakes her head. “I would barely consider two and a half months an eternity.”

“No?” he ponders thoughtfully, pressing another kiss to her temples. “Sure felt like it, though.”

***

Every moment thereafter is been filled with forcefully reserved and pining looks from across the room whilst Harry is doing his best to get back in a football state of mind (he’s only now realizing just how difficult this will all be once the season starts back up again), and Y/n attempts to answer questions about various piping techniques and flavor combinations.

“Where’d you run off to earlier?” Jeremy asks during a commercial break. He dips a hand into a snack bowl filled with Party Mix and tosses each cheesy piece into his mouth one by one. “For a second I thought you were going to miss the entire second quarter.”

Harry coughs as he tries to scratch the tickle in his throat. Before coming back down, they had agreed to keep it subdued in front of their families, especially when it’s all so new for the both of them. Besides, they’ve done what they had set out to do, there’s no wrong in wanting to keep it to themselves for a short while.

“Uh...” he drones, scratching the pointed part of his jaw. “We were just talking about organizing a study guide for finals.”

Well, it isn’t a complete lie! He had quickly glanced down at a set of her study notes on her desk just as they were exiting the room, and he might have –– he can’t remember since he was too busy covering her shoulder in sweet, seemingly innocent little kisses –– suggested they collaborate on ones for the classes they share. (Come to think of it, he doesn’t recall an actual answer to the question either, the only thing his ears had heard were the sounds of her stifled giggles as he tickled her neck.)

Thankfully, Jeremy seems to accept it without further question. The older man nods before taking a long gulp of iced tie from his officially licensed Packers tumbler. “That’s studious of you two. Good job!”

“Mhmm.” Harry bites his lips inward to hold in a snigger. Imagining the look on Jeremy’s face if he were to find out what they had actually been doing would probably regress everything in his eyes (but that’s just speculation for the time being).

“Your turn, Harry!” Mason chirps, having just dropped his second red piece into the suspended grid. As Harry prepares to release his own yellow disc in the far-right column, the little boy is quick to stop him. “Don’t go there! Or you’ll lose again,” he pouts, and takes it upon himself to move Harry’s hand and hover it over the middle.

A soft coo sounds from Harry as he ruffles Mason’s hair. “Taking pity on me, eh?” he teases.

“At least he lets you win,” Jeremy interjects, slumping forward with his knuckles pressed firmly into his cheek. He squints at his son with pursed lips. “Whenever I play with him, he sabotages my every move.”

“But Harry’s my best friend, Daddy! And friends always help each other.”

“I’m your father. I quite literally mad–”

“Honey, he’s six” from across the room, Olivia scolds her husband. “Save it for puberty.” She turns back in her chair, the three women around her unable to hide their amusement as she slaps her forehead at Mason’s hushed “What’s poo-berty?” behind her.

“I remember when Harry was that age,” Anne gushes, a warm mug of cocoa sat in her lap as she recalls the past fondly. “He once poured out the entire fish tank into a river that flowed out back.”

“Be free fishies! I love you! Bye-bye!” Gemma mimics a young six-year-old Harry.

Y/n giggles into her hands. She turns to the side hoping to catch his eye, only to find him blushing profusely into one of the decorative pillows.

Falling for him could not have been easier.

***

Monday December 1, 2008

For the eighth time today, Harry feels more than grateful to have her locker only two down from his. It’s a convenience, really! He doesn’t have to search far for her in the mornings when he wants to give her a quick peck before they start the day, or just hug her because now he can without any looming doubts that he’s sorely pressed his luck.

So, here he is, watching with soft eyes as she reorganizes all her textbooks and notebooks and folders alike.

“Will you quit it?” she pokes his tummy. “I literally can’t concentrate when you’re looking at me like that all cute and British.”

The last part makes him laugh, and he curls a finger along her chin. Taking a moment to examine their surrounds to make sure no one is being too intrusive (he thought he saw a junior raise an eyebrow at them earlier today), he tilts her head up and nudges his nose to hers. “I can’t just look at my gir–” but he cuts himself short when he realizes something.

Now, there’s no questioning that this thing between them exceeds any form of platonic friendship. The real question is what the appropriate label for them would be right now without being too presumptuous or just moving too fast.

“So, I’m your girl?” she smiles.

“I guess that really depends if you want to be because if you ask me...” he starts, stepping forward, “I’m pretty much already your–”

“Y/n!”

Both let out an annoyed sigh (Harry more so) as they hear his footsteps approaching from down the hall. She’d almost forgotten about this one little impediment with her mind having been preoccupied over the long weekend. But as Jasper moves waves to her, she’s suddenly reminded of everything she probably should have taken care of by now. She retreats so that her back is up against the cool metal surface. Harry starts to grumble a few colorful choice of words under his breath as he begrudgingly goes back to his locker.

“Hey!” he greets and looks behind her to nod at Harry. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“It was, um...” She darts her eyes towards Harry. “It was really eventful, really great” she chuckles nervously, and intrinsically slaps herself for making this more awkward than it needs to be.

“I’m happy to hear that then.” She watches as he rummages through his bag. “Here, I got this for you,” and he pulls out a plush figurine. From behind, Harry glares menacingly at it, not finding any of this to be an ounce amusing. “My family and I went into the city this weekend, and I saw this and thought you’d like it.”

“That’s so nice of you,” she says, taking the plush toy. “What-what is it exactly?” She looks up at him.

“It’s a tarsier! They’re pretty popular in the Philippines.”

“Right! I can’t believe I didn’t catch that,” Y/n muses, staring into its big piercing eyes. “You know whose favorite animal this is?” He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders. “Cici’s, she like obsessed.”

“Cool, cool,” he replies enthusiastically, and she can tell he has more to say. “So, my mom was actually wondering what color your dress is gonna be so we can coordinate with my tie.”

She glances over her shoulder to check on Harry, whose face is practically stuffed inside the alcove. “Formal...yeah, that’s a thing...isn’t it...uh...” she trails off, the body of the tarsier in her hands suffocating as she tries to find the right words. There’s no way she can go with him now, and she hates that she has to do this to him. After all, Jasper is a genuinely nice guy, and any girl would be lucky to be his date. It’s just she’s not that girl. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually.”

“Really? What about?”

“This is really hard for me to say but I can’t–”

“Can’t decide whether to take photos at your place or hers.”

Her mouth falls open when Harry appears at her side. Their eyes meet, his filled with something she’s unable to put her finger on. She doesn’t understand this, but as he places a hand on her back, giving her the opportunity to study his expression, she can practically hear his thoughts, believe me.

Jasper looks between the two of them. “Is that true?” he asks, and it seems open for either one to answer.

She gulps before snapping back. “Yeah, you know...we need a good background and everything.”

“Oh, uh...” he checks the time on his phone, “I’ll text you about it? I’m actually a little late for a meeting with Dr. De Angelo about my essay, but I’ll definitely get back to you!”

He runs back down the way he came.

It leaves Harry and Y/n to endure a painful silence. Neither opt to move. Feet stay glued to the floor as more and more students start to occupy the halls. She can’t help but feel a little betrayed, having honestly thought that they would be going to the formal together now that they’d cleared everything up. “Harry...” it’s barely above a whisper.

His hand slides around her hip before he carefully turns her around. “I should explain.”

“Please do.”

He sighs, his forehead falling unto hers. “Follow me.” And he takes her hand and hurriedly guides them up the far-right stairwell to the second floor. She wonders where this might lead, especially when they duck into one of the less used corridors that hold the building’s teacher’s lounge and stockroom.

The last door on the left just beside an open window. He jiggles the knob before pushing against it with his shoulder. She squeezes his hand and her fingers curl around his bicep as she takes a peek at what he’s doing. Suddenly, the door creaks open to reveal an empty room. “In here,” he tells her, and pulls her in.

It’s more or less what she expects from an unused room, a moderately large open space with school posters covering all four walls, a few long tables and a couch positioned diagonally in a corner.

“I did something stupid.”

***

“I’m sorry, but you what? I swear it never ends with you two!” Cici groans, head banging against the table. “How’re you gonna spend all of Thanksgiving making out and still go to this godforsaken dance with different people? It’s anti-intuitive! Literally insane!”

“Usually I’m not one to agree with Cici, but you guys really have exhausted my last functioning brain cell,” Maxxie joins in. “And I have a Geometry test in an hour, so if I fail that’s on your consciences.”

Mrs. Comey, the librarian, emerges from behind a shelf, a stern expression coating her pointed features as she gives the four of them a warning glare.

Harry and Y/n sit opposite of their friends, her leaning into his side as he strokes along her arm. “It’s not like that was intentional,” she complains. “I was already going with Jasper and Harry had just asked...you know what? I don’t even want to say her name right now.” And she covers her face with her sleeve to hide her contempt. After a long talk –– so long, in fact, that they had missed homeroom and the entirety of first period US History –– they had come to a bittersweet agreement that they would stick to any prior commitment plans to avoid any (overly) ill-feelings with their respective dates.

“Hey,” he whines, trying to get her to look at him, “you said you weren’t mad!”

“Honestly, if you were my boyfriend and you asked the girl that had continuously tried to steal you from me to a major school function –– even before we officially got together –– I’d be pretty pissed too.”

“Thank you, Cici,” huffing, Harry shoots her daggers with his eyes, “for that wonderful assessment.”

Cici massages her temples. “Just tell me why –– out of all the girls at this school –– would you choose Zoey as a rebound? The actual devil incarnate!”

“Don’t harass him,” Y/n pleads, playing with his fingers. There’s no use dwelling on something they seemingly have no command over. “Yeah, it sucks that we won’t be going together, but at least after it we can move on from this.” At least they’d resolved the most significant issue, making this little bump in the road to be almost trivial, right?

“Y/n’s right,” Maxxie agrees, falling back in his chair. “It could be worse. He could be taking Zoey to prom.”

***

They take Harry’s bike to Ruben’s right after dismissal. He enjoys this even more now that the faint restrictiveness from the first time is delightfully gone, and instead it just feels so completely natural to have her so close, and now with an added bonus of being able to kiss her fully.

Because now that he thinks about it, not a whole lot has actually changed besides that. Sure, they’re probably thrice as affectionate now than they were a month ago, or even at the beginning of last week. It really only was a matter of time!

“Halfsies on the roast beef and swiss, and a strawberry milkshake?” It’s their usual order starting from the first time they’d eaten here all the way back in September. They order it every time without fail as though tradition.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she sings, “but can we get mozzarella sticks too? Maxxie ate like half my lunch when we told them, so I’m a lot hungrier than usual.” She snorts out loud, closing her menu and placing it on the table.

Harry looks up at their waiter. “... and add some mozzarella sticks. Thanks, man.”

Comfortably, they sit and enjoy the song playing from the jukebox. Someone with excellent taste had just chosen Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, and Harry wraps his arm around her shoulders as he hums along to the chorus. “...built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older...”

“You should sing more,” she encourages, pecking his cheek, “you have a really nice voice.”

He lets out an airy chuckle. “I guess you have to say that now.”

“Shut up, that’s not it!” she gasps, lightly smacking his chest. “I mean it.” She raises her hand to cup his cheek and uses her thumb to wipe away a fallen lash. Peering back at him, she smiles shyly. It’s almost strange, being able to do something like that so freely and without having to think twice. The way they’ve already managed to fall into this with such ease will never fail to astonish her.

Overcome with the sound of his heart’s tune, he surges forward to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “I really, really like you,” he breathes as they pull apart just as their order arrives. “And I’m so happy this is finally happening.”

“Me too,” she says, pulling him back for one more.

For a moment she’s completely distracted by a basket of decadent fried mozzarella. She takes her favorite of the bunch –– the one that has the most cheese oozing from the tips –– and takes a bite, pulling it away to test the stretch. He takes the opportunity to ask a burning question.

“So, earlier at the library,” he starts, sounding as ambiguous as possible as he picks up a fry from the side of their plate. “Do you remember what Cici said?”

Her eyes narrow on him as she tries to think. Could he be referring to before or after she’d scolded them for stressing her out more than any upcoming exam? Or maybe when she’d called them lunatics for formal? “Cici said a lot of things today, Harry.”

“Well, there was this one thing that I’ve been thinking about all day” And he dips that fry into a pool of ketchup and layers it in his mouth. He muses to himself as he savors the crispy yet fluffy texture. “And I feel like it’s kind of urgent.” He shoots her a wink.

“Don’t leave me guessing then,” she pouts, swatting his hand away when he goes for another fry.

“It’s just that she called me your boyfriend,” he smirks, sitting back and waiting for it to fully marinate between her ears.

Her lips quirk to the side as she lies back and rests her head on his shoulder, then cranes her neck to gaze up at him. “She did say that, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

***

#president!harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction au #one direction preferences #writing

135 notes · View notes

carryonmywaywardwriters · 6 years ago

Text

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: It’s late as fuck. But, hopefully this works soon. As usual, feedback is always incredible. I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Nightmares. Sexual tension. Nothing too wild.

Word Count: Roughly 3,200

“Her name was Esmeralda?” Dean asked through the mouth full of beef and bread. “Like the gypsy from Hunchback of Notre Dame?” Sam deadpanned his brother. “What?”

“Nothing.” Came the shamed sigh before the taller man leaned back in his chair. Refusing to indulge in his sibling's Disney craze.

“What else did he have?” Getting back to business, Dean turned back to you before chomping back into his burger.

“She was African American. Real pretty. He didn't pay her much mind, though. She was too wrapped up in our vic.” You stated from your perch on the small couch the motel carried. Looking over the notes in front of you. The cap of the pen tapped against your lower lip while you thought. Your blouse had been discarded to make up for the heat. Leaving you in just a white tank. “Doesn't fit the vampire mold. though. She was out in the daylight.”

“Maybe we're dealing with a bait girl.” Sam suggested, drawing your attention back to him. His long fingers carefully rolled the white sleeves up along his forearms. Too enticing for your sanity. Luckily, the greasy lip smacking from Dean tugged you back to reality.

“Maybe,” You shrugged, not convinced. “But, I don't think so. She's a dead end.”

“Why's that?” The younger brother's challenging tone only made you roll your eyes.

“Let's just call it a woman's intuition.” A wry smile only made his scowl deeper as he leaned over his own burger.

“Great.” Came the huff. “We're going on intuition, now.”

“Sam-”

“Don't worry about it, Dean.” You got to your feet slowly. Stretching so hard that the undershirt rode up. Noting the way the skin tingled at the contact from the hazel gaze. A gentle pop eased some of the stiffness from all the time crammed in the Impala's back seat. “He'll figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Yep, definitely defensive.

Your shirt and note pad were snatched up, “Good night, boys.” With that, you sauntered towards the door. Enjoying the way Sam's jaw ticked.

“Wait! No. Figure what out?” Came the demand, again. As if that rough tone would be enough to hold you. “Y/N!”

You pretended you didn't hear him. That his roar hadn't sent shivers down your spine. Your door was shut and locked. Just in case he decided to follow. Public attention be damned.

Instead, you seemed to luck out. If there was one word that could define Sam Winchester, it was intelligent. He'd piece it together sooner than later. Once his brain moved away from the need to kill, anyway.

Bait girls rarely spent longer than night pursing a target. The longest you'd ever known had been a week to end a personal grudge. Any longer drew attention to themselves. To the nests. Drawing in hunters. They'd be killed the moment things got too close.

Esmeralda had been around too long. Was still alive. There wasn't a chance she was the bait. You'd have bet your life on it.

He figure it out? Resisting texting the older Winchester was futile. Or is he still pissed?

Option two. Dean's answer tugged your lips up. He'll get to it, eventually. Get some rest, Vamp Queen. Busy day tomorrow.

Yes, sir.

Vampires had been the closest thing you could call to your specialty. It had been too easy to spot the bait. The fake smiles. Empty promises. Every trick you'd ever picked up being put to use. They'd drawn you in with it. Trying to save them from their holds. Sometimes successfully. Other times, not. Over the years, they became the focus of your attention.

Sam didn't have a clue about any of that, though. Treating you as though it was your first hunt. So unintentionally condescending that you couldn't stand him. What a joke.

Focusing on his presumed ideals about you wouldn't help you wind down. Instead, removed the tank and skirt. Replacing it was one of Dean's old undershirts. Not bothering to worry about anything else.

Exhaustion settled into your bones as you crawled on top of the covers. Forgetting to tug them free from the mattress. The sun was barely set, but that didn't matter. Your eyes drifted shut.

–

Your eyes stared into his. Daring him to make the first move. When he didn't, you rolled your eyes. “You're pathetic, Winchester.”

Bending to put down your glass, you prepared to leave. Sam couldn't have that. His arm grabbed your bicep. Halting you in one swift motion. You didn't turn to him right away. Instead, you took a deep, steadying breath. The moment your glare met his hard gaze, he uttered a single command. “Sit down.”

Soft knocking made Sam's head jerk towards the door. His eyes opened, forcing the dream to tug away. Sure enough, it sounded again past the snoring emitting from Dean. With a groan, he kicked out of the blankets. Rubbing at his face with the back of his hand as he moved to answer it.

“Y/N?” He groggily stared at your form as you shifted at the door. You hadn't bothered to dress. Arms wrapped around your torso, you stood head bowed. “What's going on? It's...four am.”

“I...” You paused, trying to compose yourself. Clearing the lump in your throat. “Can you get Dean?” Despite the attempt to seem well put together, your voice shook. A wince flashed across your face at the sound of it before you gave up. “Please?” It was such a simple word. Earlier it would have made all the blood in his body rush south. But, in that moment, it made his stomach churn. Something was wrong. You sounded...broken. “Sam, please...”

Nothing else could leave your lips. It had been meant as a simple request. But, it was so much more. You needed his cooperation in that moment.

And he gave it without a fight, “I'll get him.”

You nodded your thanks, but didn't say anything else. Instead, you stood defeated. Shaking in the low light of the hallway. Then, it clicked in his sleep fogged brain.

“Sometimes, I have rough nights. Remember things from my past...” Your voice echoed through his mind. His head turned back to the door. Almost tempted to take his brother's place. With a shake of his head, the thoughts were gone.

“Dean,” Sam slammed his hand down on his brother's leg. Instantly, the older brother jerked in response. Reaching for his gun out of instinct, until he realized just who had connected with him.

“Dude, what?” The older sibling bit out. His eyes in slits, yet. They closed for a moment after he caught sight of the alarm. Again, Sam glanced back at the door. Deliberating on what his best option was.

“Y/N...She's at the door. I think … I think she's having one...one of her nights.” The deep green eyes snapped open at that one. “She needs you, man.”

Dean didn't hesitate. Jumping to his feet in an instant. As he pulled on his jeans, he looked at his younger sibling. “How do you know about those?”

“It's not important.” Sam shrugged out, his hand going through his hair. Wondering if you were so bad off that you'd still be sitting in the hallway. He dropped back to his bed instead of going to check.

“Earlier...You said you only knew one important thing about her-”

“Just, go get her out of the hall, Dean. She's not wearing any clothes.” The curt statement didn't make the suspicion leave the older sibling. But, he had bigger things to worry about. You.

“Hey,” Dean's voice was amazingly gentle as he opened the door enough to slip out. “You need to talk?” Sam heard a sniff, but couldn't make out anything else. He couldn't picture your face coated in tears. You always got defiant. If not stubborn, you didn't carry more than a blank slate. Never sad. Never scared. Not around him. Even when he'd seen you sneak into his brother's room, you seemed well held together. But, in that moment, you'd been more fragile than he'd ever thought you could be. “No? I'll talk then. You listen. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” It was weak, but you'd managed it. “I'm sorry...” A hallow crack escaped. “I...I...I know...I know this has to...to be irritating-”

“Don't.” His brother insisted with just a hint of steel. “It's not your fault. None of it is.” Curiosity spiked at those words. “Just take a breath, Y/N...” You must have done what he'd said. “Let's go... Let Sam get some sleep.”

Flashbacks from his childhood assaulted Sam. When he'd have nightmares, his brother had always been there. Had talked him through them. Around them. Whatever he needed in that moment. Did anytime he caught them. Even if his little brother was all grown up.

It was Dean's way of filling the gap their mother had left behind when she'd been killed by Azazel. His way of making up for the lack of real parenting they'd received from John Winchester. A chance to remain the protector.

Sam hadn't connected the dots until he witnessed it up close and personal. Dean wasn't in love with you. Sure as hell wasn't fucking you. No, he was taking you under his wing. Just like he'd done with Sam when he had been nothing more than a child himself.

The door shut quietly, as if Dean had already expected Sam to be out cold. Too uninterested to listen in. In reality, Sam sat staring at the door through the darkness. Wondering what had been bad enough to make you beg him while being fully conscious...

–

You'd moved on as if that night had never happened. As if Sam hadn't seen your weakened state. That infuriating blank mask back in place.

The only thing you'd done to acknowledge it had ever happened was a muttered thank you, a light squeeze of his bicep, and a small- shy- smile before you'd moved on. He would have thought he'd imagined it all- including your thanks- if it wasn't for the way Dean hovered over you. Determined to be there whenever you needed him. It didn't seem to phase you the way the older brother leered over you protectively. Instead, you threw yourself into the hunt with vigor.

You'd been the one who located the nest. Figured out that it was a group of females that only fed on males. Even managing to crack a joke over the whole new meaning to the words 'man eater'. You'd managed to be the one who had identified how many members there were, and they're most active period. Always three steps ahead of Sam when it came to the case. He had to wonder if you were truly sleeping at all.

There was a piece of his pride that had been destroyed on your quest for violence. But the rest of him? It was impressed. He knew you were book smart when it came to hunting. There'd been too many times you'd found the answers they'd needed at the bunker before he had a chance to. But, this went so much deeper than that. You'd been on a roll with the entire thing.

The only problem? He'd yet to see you fight. And damn if it didn't twist his gut to think of the consequences.

The impala was parked a few blocks from the building the vampires were housed in- a small, abandoned hospital that had closed sometime back in the early 1900s. Dean had taken care to hide the muscle car in a small clearing in the forest. No one from the road, or the nest, would have any clue that there was an ambush on the way.

You were in jeans and a simple black baseball shirt. Velcro straps wrapped around your thighs and attached to your belt before your blades were set in. Already coated in the ashes of saffron, skunk cabbage, and trillium to hide your scent. The third blade in your hand.

“What?” Hazel eyes were burning into your skin as you got ready. Sam didn't bother over doing it. Leaning against the Impala, simply watching you.

“Tomb raider fan?” His lip quirked lightly. Drawing a twitch to your eye. It was easier to tease than to worry.

“I'm protecting myself.” You retorted, bending to make sure the strap was secure. Turning away as if he didn't set your nerves on edge all decked out in a brown plaid that fit a tad too snugly. “We're dealing with a big nest.” The small machete was spun in your fingers to move it away from your skin as you straightened back to your full height. “I refuse to be a victim.” The unspoken again hung in the air. His eyes seemed to soften a bit, only serving to make your brows snap together. You didn't want his pity. “If you were smart? You'd have a back up, too.”

“I don't need more than one blade. I know how to use the one I have.” Your breath hitched at the double entendre. When your eyes flashed back his way, you couldn't miss the satisfaction. Nothing short of male arrogance hung in the air.

“Cute.” You wrinkled your nose, pushing away the way you'd lit up. Refusing to let him get under your skin. “Let's just chop up some vamps. Get this shit over with.” Kicking off of the vehicle, you moved to go find Dean. To speed things along.

“You really are a blood thirsty little thing, aren't you?” He asked seriously, reaching over to check his blade's sharpness as you whipped back his way.

“I try to reserve it to monsters...and you.” The final jab hit its mark. But, he didn't flinch. Simply straightened to his full height. “Blood is only fun when it comes from the right people.”

“Didn't peg you for the kinky type.” Deadpanned, he waited for a reaction to the lie. Maybe to goad you into leaving. Possibly to amp you up for the fight ahead. Adrenaline was adrenaline, no matter the source.

“Isn't that the best way to be?” Came the not-so-innocent response. “Vanilla just gets stale.” One thing was for certain, you knew how to play that game all too well. The tilt of your head exposed the lines of your neck that he'd mentally traced too many times. A slow, torturous glide of the tip of your tongue across your bottom lip drew him in. “Sammy,” Husky and thick, your voice sent the blood in his head rushing south. He didn't dream of stopping your lazy, swinging gait his way. Slowly, your fingertip raised to graze across the blade in his hand. Tracing it as if it were your lover. Your body shifted subtly. Offering up your chest. He didn't do more than glance, too distrustful of your shift. “There's a lot you're going to figure out about me by tonight.”

“A...A...Anything good?” He returned, fighting to not let your innuendos slow him down.

“Good is the farthest thing from what you're about to see.” The low promise nearly made him groan. “You see, Samuel...” Your finger stroked the blade again, letting the metaphoric action settle between you two. “There's a side of me that you can't even begin to imagine...”

“I...I promise you,” He rasped out, his own voice dropping an octave. Chest rising a little rapidly to be normal. The hazel looked deeper under the light of the late morning. “I've got a great imagination.”

“And I promise you,” You let your eyes lock with his again, “it doesn't come close to the real thing.” Your lips curled up as the warm flesh of your fingers slid down the handle. Just barely brushing against the thick skin of Sam's hand as you pulled away. Nostrils flaring, a shuttering breath left the tall hunter. “You'll see.”

“You guys ready?” Dean's voice made you jerk away. Putting distance between you and Sam. The eldest hunter broke through the woods, weapon still in hand. “Looks like they're all out. We do this right? They don't even wake up.”

“Let's go, then.” Your eyes lifted back to the younger Winchester's. Unable to stop the final look over him. “Thanks for the help, Sam.” With that, you twisted back. Heading the way Dean had come from.

“Help?” The older brother turned to Sam. Demanding an explanation with his raised brows.

“Don't ask.” Chest puffed, the taller hunter strode after you. Mentally preparing himself for the hell that was sure to come from you alone with a set of vamps.

“I should...” Dean glanced over to his car. Ensuring she was secure before turning back. Watching two of the strongest people he knew stride ahead of him. “But, something tells me that I'm better off not knowing.”

It didn't take long to find yourselves at the entrance. Vines crawled against old, crumbled, red brick. Graffiti- some fresh, some old- was scattered across every piece that could have been reached. A heavy metal door covered the front.

Your eyes met Dean's. A nod to the right let you know where you'd be. Sam got the left. Dean was taking the middle. Where you were sure that the leader would be. However, you wouldn't fight the decision. It had been too long. Wrestling with Bane didn't compare to fighting a supernatural creature.

Concern flitted across Sam's face when your eyes met his, again. But, he didn't say a word. Simply pulled open the door as quietly as he could. A nod was sent your way for luck as you walked by. One of your own was returned. And then, you were alone.

If there was ever a moment to thank Sam Winchester, it was that one. Your feet were still light. Well tuned from the stealth the pranks had required over the years as you stalked into the emptiness.

If you hadn't known better, you would have thought it was still night. The boarded up windows were few and far in between. Leaving your eyes to adjust to the shadows. Slowly, everything came into focus.

Your fingers gripped tighter against the handle that rested in your palm as you approached the first room. Using every sense you carried to anticipate what you'd run into.

A light scrape sounded as you stood just outside of the opening. A darker shadow slid across the ground. Dean had been wrong. They weren't all asleep.

A small drop of sweat slid down your brow as you tried to place where the sounds were coming from. Once you had your best guess, you sucked in a silent breath. Your heart beat thudded in your ears. Too loud for a normal vampire to miss.

Your best bet? A human was in the room. Or a newly turned vamp. You didn't know which you preferred. With a final mental pat, you turned in. Blade ready...

Part Seven

Tag: @burningmusicmachine @missmarrinette @sherlockedtash88 @rathersuspiciousbumblebee @sasbb23 @nothinbuttrouble2

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #sam #sam winchester #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester reader insert #sam reader insert #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam x y/n

166 notes · View notes

southernconundrum-blog · 6 years ago

Text

It’s time we talk about 1987, Adventures in Babysitting Vincent D’Onofrio.

I’m a lesbian. I was born in 1983. I did not see Adventures in Babysitting till about 91. By then I’d already discovered my sexuality via Mallory in Family Ties, Lisa Bonet in the ____ Show and of course Carla Gugino as the troubled but beautiful Chica Barnfell in Troop Beverly Hills.

I love a girl in uniform.

The lip bite before Kstew was a twinkle in her mother’s eye.

Split bangs = basically double the bangs.

** honorable mention to Gabrielle Anwar for single handedly changing dyke fashion with this beanie/beret sitch**

These are not complicated matters.

The early 90′s really kicked off what would become the genesis of a decades long Elisabeth Shue phase. She had already dazzled me in Karate Kid and for whatever reason my parents allowed me to watch Soapdish on repeat. So no one should’ve been surprised when I cleared my Sunday night plans to watch the ABC (super edited) family movie showing of Adventures in Babysitting. Whatever straight was left in me was gone by the end of the first scene. One of the most glorious in cinema history.

youtube

The feathered hair, the t-shirt dress, the 32 year-old jawline on a 16 year old. She was perfection. I was entranced.

Scene after scene I fell deeper and deeper into a dark gay hole of feelings.

Every time Elisabeth’s hair grew in circumference, so did the lady wood inside my gay heart.

Everything was going according to god’s glorious plan until this happened...

youtube

Um. What. the. fuck. Where did he come from?? Is that the guy from Mystic PIzza? What is happening? Oh no...

I began to gay panic and gay grasp at all the montages of lovely ladies I had stored in my gay brain. They were whizzing past me, too quick to for my weak jello lady arms. If only I had Thor’s arms..wait no..what? No I don’t want that. I want sinewy Blair from Facts of Life arms. Blair wait... WAIT..

She slipped seamlessly into the void. Along with all the others. All the feathered hair, the bangs, the shoulder pads. All gone. Now all I could see was oily, milky white 80′s muscles (good enough), corn silk soft blonde wig hair that if we just put a hat on it we won’t have to worry if it looks real or not. Tight jeans and man bulge and WHAT WAS HAPPENING.

My body was changing. My heart confused. A young gay girl in crisis. I studied the image as much as I could without the ability to pause. Thank god we were taping it on the VCR. I could come back later I decided. I would have to. Wouldn’t I? WHO AM I NOW?

The chest hair. I didn’t want to touch it but I didn’t not want to touch it? The way he was an asshole about the $5. Was that a lot in 1987 or was he just a sexy asshole? How he gave into Sara so easily, so quickly. I actually almost hated him for it. How he’d allowed the child’s tears to dash out his brawny, sweaty man hatred. Why had he softened for her?? Or was it his true strength coming through. In the end, wasn’t it a better show of power and dominance to allow his city hardened but oily sick arms to reach out and show his vulnerability? Is he tall or does he just seem tall? He’s tall.

A million tiny little thoughts running through my brain. Can’t pause the thoughts the goddamn technology hasn’t been invented!! Where do I go from here? Do I have a boyfriend now? AM I PREGNANT????

Luckily, this is the only appearance of sexy as fuck, slick armed, bulging Vincent D’Onofrio. I would get a solid 45 minute break from hormones starting with that horrific blues club scene where Elisabeth Shue proves no she cannot sing and kids are annoying as fuck.

But every so often I’d catch a glimpse of him. He was haunting me like a sexy bisexual ghost. I couldn’t escape the chest hair. The tank top. The pants hiked so high I could see his religion. I felt like a Civil War wife longing for the day my sweet Dawson would return. Would life ever be the same? Would I ever be the same? Could I? SHOULD I?

I was snapped out of my bi-sexual crisis by Elisabeth wielding a switch blade and commanding a train car full of West Side Story Reprise Rejects to never fuck with the babysitter.

Whew. That was close.

Years later, when I was in Jr. High, he’d cross my mind from time to time. I’d just smile and tilt my head towards the heavens, close my eyes and absorb the fleeting rays of light coming from his greasy biceps. Then when I opened them again, he was gone. A shooting man star in my lesbian sky. I knew that while I appreciated him, I would never love him, not truly. And I would never know such confusion again....UNTIL...

...

#vincent d'onofrio #adventuresinbabysitting #jordan catalano #gay #lesbian #bisexual #factsoflife #gaygasp #gaypanic #clairedanes

17 notes · View notes

gsyelectric · 7 days ago

Text

Single Phase Tank Enclosure Manufacture – Custom Solutions by GSY Electric

At GSY Electric, we specialize in the Single Phase Tank Enclosure Manufacture, offering high-quality, custom-built enclosures designed to protect your electrical systems. Our tank enclosures are perfect for safeguarding transformers and other critical components, ensuring safety, durability, and efficient operation.

Why Choose Our Single Phase Tank Enclosures?

Superior Protection: Designed to protect transformers and electrical equipment from environmental hazards and physical damage.

Custom Manufacturing: We provide tailored solutions to meet your specific needs, including material selection, size, and design.

Reliable Performance: Built to withstand harsh conditions, ensuring your equipment stays protected and operational for years.

High-Quality Standards: Manufactured with the highest quality materials and attention to detail to meet industry standards.

Applications:

Power distribution systems

Electrical substations

Industrial power systems

Residential and commercial applications

Source URL: https://singlephaseoiltankenclosure.blogspot.com/2024/12/a-comprehensive-review-of-single-phase.html

#three phase oil tank enclosure #three phase to single phase transformer #single phase pole mounted transformer #pole mounted oil tank enclosure #Single phase pad tanks #China tramsformer enclosure supplier #custom solution for transformer enclosure #PAD tanks with radiator #Pole mounting oil tank #usa

1 note · View note

reheadyfreheady · 6 years ago

Text

Downward dog- Part 2

“You aren’t too bad yourself.” Brian cocked his head to the side, stepping forward and haltering Roger’s breath, causing the smaller blond to look up into the chocolate orbs of the brunet.

“Can I have your number then?” Roger resumes, painting on false confidence as he cocked an eyebrow to the still smirking Brian. The taller man let out a breathy chuckled, leaning forward so his after shave tickled Roger’s nostrils and made him never want to smell anything but that anymore. His long dexterous fingers brushing one of the wavy strands of Roger’s hair out of his face. Roger’s dark pupils followed the curve of his digits before fleeting his gaze back to Brian’s eyes. Brian opened his mouth to answer.

“Oi Roger!” Freddie gelled, slamming the back door open as both boys tore themselves apart and looked back to a wide eyed and very guilty Freddie. “Shit, um sorry.” He waves his hands as John’s curious face poked into view, taking in the sight of a blushing Brian and a pissed off Roger, for interrupting their ‘moment’.

“I apologise for Freddie’s obliviousness. You guys get back to what you were doing. Me and Fred are waiting outside, Rog.” John said, suppressing a smirk and dragging a muttering Freddie out of the room by his ear. After the door slammed shut and a moment of silence passed over the pair, Roger turned back to face Brian, who was grinning.

“I’m really sorry about him, he’s-“ Roger started before Brian cut him off.

“Let’s make a deal Roger.” He said unsuspectedly, causing Roger to quirk an eyebrow at the sudden change in tone.

“...Sure?”

Brian took a step forward.

“If you manage to get through next week’s asanas without a single stumble, or without needing my help, I’ll take you on the greatest date of your life.” Brian whispered, unknowingly promising something that ended up with Roger mercilessly practising his balance for seven days straight after. Roger agreed to Brian’s proposition with a smile.

How he couldn’t wait for next weeks class.

///

The whole week that followed was spent as usual, except for the fact that every free moment that wasn’t spent attending lectures or completing essays, was instead spent with either Freddie bending Roger’s body into Serpant, or John correcting his stance in Eagle. He couldn’t afford to show up rusty to next week’s class, not when going on a date with Brian was on the line here.

“I’ve never seen you this hung up over a guy.” Freddie commented, a snigger in his voice as he looked up at Roger, who was bent in child’s pose on the floor. It was a Wednesday night- precisely one day until his fate was revealed. It was also tradition to spend Wednesday nights huddled up in his and Freddie’s apartment with Deaky staying over, ordering a takeaway and watching movies. “It’s a bit unnerving.”

“Shut up.” Roger muttered, groaning slightly at how the asana opened his back muscles. He didn’t realise how tensed up his body was until he started taking his yoga seriously this week, doing at least an hour every morning and night. He knew he had improved at least- and even if he wobbled a little tomorrow, he hoped Brian would take pity on him enough to notice his efforts and take him on a date anyway.

“Yeah I never realised you were into the lanky guys Rog.” Deaky added, squeezing Freddie closer to him and placing a peck onto his mane of brown hair. Deaky received a similar “shut up”, before promptly sitting back up and facing the two boys, ignoring the blaring of ‘West Side Story’ (Freddie’s choice) in the background.

“Is he really out of my league?” Roger asked in a small voice. Roger was not the type of person to ever doubt his attractiveness. He knew he was a pretty boy- judging from the endless compliments he received from girls (when he tried to convince himself he was straight) and the interested looks from big rugby men in gay bars when Freddie, John and him wanted a night out. However, it seemed with Brian, he wanted all the attention he could get from the poodle to know that he was beautiful. He himself was intimidated by Brian’s own beauty.

“Darling, that is the most stupid thing I have ever heard come from your mouth, and you’ve said a lot of stupid things over the years” Freddie deadpanned before smiling softly at Roger’s obviously troubled mind.

“Yeah for once I agree with Fred” John added, earning a playful seat from Freddie in return. “Seriously Roger, have you not noticed the way Brian stares at you like he wants to fuck you.”

“No actually I haven’t,” Roger shrugged, standing up before proceeding to flop down next to the pair, tucking his head into Freddie’s side as John began to dance his fingers into his mane of golden hair, scratching lightly as Roger leaned into his touch.

“I’ve never fancied someone this much,” Roger admitted, hiding his face in Freddie’s grey shirt and he felt Fred’s long arm tighten around him, as if protecting him from Roger’s ever so pessimistic thoughts.

“Hey, look at me Roggie.” John demanded, making Roger’s blue face glance up at him through his thick eyelashes. “Anyone would be stupid to not accept someone like you. You’re funny, kind, pretty darn fit and an utter arsehole. Don’t undervalue yourself.” He finished, as Roger giggled. Deaky could never give a sentimental statement without some kind of insult laced within it.

“Gee thanks Deaky.” Roger smiled. He breathed deeply, forgetting all about his poodle filled thoughts. Tomorrow was in Brian’s hands.

///

Roger was stupid to even think Brian would reject him. After Roger stepped out of the room only a week earlier, Brian was an absolute bundle of nerves. He had tried his hardest to come across cool and collected in front of the beautiful blond that grasped his attention so quickly in the space of one yoga class. He was head over heels for this little blond thing, that would so often distract him from his ‘inner peace’, and cause Brian to think truly sinful things that were definitely not appropriate in that environment.

As he sat alone in his little apartment (his flat mate Tim had gone out for the night), he couldn’t help but sit and ponder the proposal, like he had done every night for the last week. He was afraid he had come off too dismissive, or perhaps he seemed to keen? Or maybe he was being rude? Either way, Brian couldn’t help but feel like there would be absolutely nothing that could happen tomorrow to make Brian turn Roger away.

Except maybe if he didn’t like badgers.

///

Roger decided to complete his ultimate yoga class alone. No Deaky or Freddie there to distract him or egg him on with whispered words of encouragement. Nope. He was going to be a good boy and do this by himself.

Despite being a couple of minutes late (he was too busy having a small breakdown in the porch outside, wondering whether to just run away in an attempt to forget Brian ever existed), he was pleasantly surprised that Brian’s regulars had left an empty yoga mat smack bang in the middle of the front row, the perfect size for Roger. He smiled slightly, nodding to Angie, the university student that was always on his left side, before grabbing a pad and yoga block and made his way back to the mat, trying his hardest not to look up at Brian’s careful stare as he followed him through all his actions.

Brain started easy, with poses Roger knew he was capable of. He flew through downward dog to plank, earning a small nod from Brian, doing a few similar asanas before heading to tree, where because of all his extra practise, Roger was able to rest his foot on his upper thigh with ease, without a single wobble. Brian tried his hardest to gulp back his wide eyes as Roger shot him a small smirk.

Throughout the whole hour, Roger became loomingly aware of the small game Brian was playing. Roger’s confidence was going from strength to strength as he completed each pose like he could do them blindfolded in his sleep. At this point, Roger was certain that someone could place him on a deep cliff edge and he wouldn’t let it phase him. However, minding his unfaltering confidence, he knew Brian was saving the pose that Roger had been dreading for last. That damned eagle.

Roger shot a look to the clock at the side of the room. Only 5 minutes were left and Brian still hadn’t announced the one asana that could potentially cause Roger to fail his mission. Deep down, he knew it was only a little game, however he was intent on not disappointing Brian, or himself. John so often fondly shook his head at how competitive Roger got, even more so that Freddie. But Roger was not going to give up even when-

“Okay guys, we are now going to prepare for Eagle.”

Bollocks.

If looks could kill, Brian would have probably disintegrated into thin air at this point, the only remenants of him being his stupidly beautifully tight tank top that was stupid but also made him look like a stupid Greek god-

Stop it Roger.

Focus.

“Find your gazing spot when you do this one, you will find it helps.” Brian helpfully added, bending his knees slightly to wrap his left leg around his right, bending even more into his stretch as he interlaced his arms, making it look effortlesssly easy. As the others struggled to copy his movements, Roger found his perfect gazing spot, burning fury directly into Brian’s eyes.

He bent his knees, so far so good. He wouldn’t tear his gaze away from Brian’s muddy pupils, but the taller man watched every single movement the blond made, completely ignoring the annoyed huffs of the other members as they wobbled and fell out of their poses. His focus was Roger.

Roger would not show how he struggled to find his balance as he tentatively made his way into one leg. He took his time to breath deeply, letting Brian scan the rise and fall of his chest as he kept his arms out, wrapping his leg tightly around his right leg. Not a single wobble so far. The boys at home would be beyond proud.

Now came the hard bit. Roger could no longer use his arms for balance as they were essential in finishing the asana properly. Roger gulped back, tearing his eyes away from Brian’s for a brief moment to watch the way the brunets delicious lips curved, mouthing ‘you can do this’. Roger’s gaze flicked back up to his eues, burning with desire, lust and dedication. He could do this.

That a was all the encouragement he needed.

Roger found his whole body rooted to the ground, as if not even the strongest wind could topple him over as he lifted his arms to the sky, before bringing them to his heart space and interlacing them. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Brian took his cue to count to ten.

“1”

“2”

“3”

“4”

“5.” Halfway there.

“6”

#maylor #brian may #roger taylor #freddie mercury #john deacon #deacury #maylor fic #queen #fluff

8 notes · View notes

nightbloomnest · 6 years ago

Note

♕۩✉ :3

FFXIV Boss Battle Ask Prompts

@lordhaurchefant

♕ - What would the main mechanic(s) of the fight be?

Because this ended up becoming very long. I’m putting the rest under the cut. I ended up including extreme mode additions:

GENERAL ABILITIES:

Melodious Cacophony- A Raid-wide AoE, consistent throughout

Tearful Soprano - Tank Buster Cleave, consistent throughout. In extreme you need to swap after 2 vuln stacks.

PHASE 1 - Swan Form

Sorrow of the Swan: Stack Mechanic. In extreme mode it deals two blows.

A cappella: A circular AoE where players need to move to the outer ring. In extreme it causes a vuln stack and blind.

White Aria: Four players are targeted, when the spell hits they will drop damaging pools. In extreme, these pools will slowly expand.

PHASE 2 - We all love DPS checks right?

Boss will move to the center will no longer be targetable. At this point large crows will join the arena and will cast a visible colored link to the boss which will charge her meter as long as the crow remains. There is also raid-wide bleed dot that is consistent until the next phase. You have to DPS all the crows down before the meter fills and wipes out your party. There would also be several AoEs happening or something.

In extreme mode, new abilities are introduced on the depending crow linked to her.

Scribe (Yellow) - If you’ve done Zurvan EX, this will be familiar to you. All players will be linked with one another of a specific color (white or black) and must stay together throughout this phase or receive damage if spread too far apart. You also will have to step over specific color pads that appear in the arena.

Sonnet (Pink) - Sparks of light will land on the arena and do line aoe in random directions. Single players will also be targeted with a periodic AoE drop.

Ink (Blue) - When Ink appears, stack under him to avoid the outer AoE. Here the Tank will have to pick him up because he will do cleaves. Be also ready to dodge 3 way directional AoE.

Quill(Green) - Quill will do an indicated shielding mechanic much like Ravana. Either his front, sides, or back will be exposed and the rest will be shielded. Hitting the wrong side will cause deflect knockback.

STACK FOR MAJOR TRANSITION CHANGE - “The Crying Chorus” The ground will erupt in an explosive whirlwind of black feathers while white lilies also begin blooming. These glowing white lilies will remain on the arena with sparkles floating about. By here the boss will transform into Crow form..

PHASE 3 - Crow Form

In normal: She remains in Crow form for the rest of the fight.

CROW FORM

Rage of the Crow: A patterned cleave like Thordan EX. In extreme, you get vuln debuff if you get hit.

A bene placito: A donut AoE where players need to move into her hitbox or at medium range. In extreme it does three charges and gives a vuln.

Black Elegy: Two specific players are targeted and she does two line AoEs in their directions. Much like Sephirot’s Earth shakers.

In extreme, she will use a combination abilities from both Swan and Crow forms, or two of the same at once. (She’ll retain Crow form, but now she has the white wing.)

ENRAGE - “The Murderous Chorus“

ALL of the crows you initially DPS’d down will appear. This results in a a large explosion that erupts like a twister from the center to out. Particle effects would be black/purple/blue colors with crow feathers flying about. This wipes out the entire party.

۩ - What would the setting/arena look like?

I’m not really good at landscaping so I’ll provide some old shots of the arenas.

The arena would probably something similar to Urth’s Fountain and one part Saint Mocianne’s Arboretum. A dark forest at first, that turns into a fantasy-like landscape full of white lilies within the final stage phases.

✉ - What would the theme of their weapon drops be?

If I could say Castrum Abania recolors, I would. But honestly the theme would consist of white and black feathers/wings, and lilies. I’m not really good at weapon designing so these were the ones I could think of on the spot, going with my most favorite classes. I didn’t want to spent too much detail on this post so I might release full sized, colored art pieces eventually and maybe more weapons if people want them.

Also if anyone is curious: the youngest crow, Simile would be your NPC questgiver. Distressed baby crow.

#Answered;#FFXIV #Final Fantasy XIV #PrimalSvan;#Records;

19 notes · View notes

filmandtubes · 7 years ago

Text

X-Pro Reversal, Perfected.

After a long time and a lot of test shots, I now think that I have perfected the process. I’ve tried it with both E-6 and C-41 films with good results on both. First, I'll start off with the boring bit and then get to the results.

Here is the recipe. I purposefully made it so that it could all be done at the single temp of 102F as used by every C-41 kit I've ever seen. Note that temperature control is more critical in this and that some kind of warming method will be needed for the long first developer time.

NOTE: It is trivial to re-reel the wet film with stainless steel reels. With plastic reels it would seem impossible; however, several tips online has said that you can easily (apparently more easily than stainless) re-reel the film by sticking both the reel and film in a water filled bucket so that they are submerged. If you're stuck with plastic reels, you can try this method but I haven't tested it for myself.

Mix HC-110 A working solution (1+15)

Heat both HC-110 and C-41 chemicals to 102F (you might also want a bottle of water for rinsing)

Rinse/preheat the tank for 2 minutes

Develop for 6:30 in HC-110. Agitate 10s initially, and then 4x every 30s after. Experimenting with less aggressive agitation could lead to less blown highlights, but additional time might be required for full shadow development. Less agitation might also add some color casts. Develop for 7:30 for C-41 films for "box speed" results (otherwise you'll need to over expose by 1.5 stops for best results)

Rinse several times in order to stop development

Remove film from tank, fog over daylight colored light pad. Do not fog over tungsten lights or outside using the sun. Fog for 2 or 3 minutes, ensuring to cover both the front and back of the film

Put film back in tank

Rinse/preheat tank again for 2 minutes

C-41 develop for slightly longer. For my kit it says 3:30, so I did it for 4:00 for VERY fresh developer (ie, this was the second roll I used with it). If you've processed more than 4 rolls, extend to 4:15. If you've processed more than kit capacity go for 4:30 or even up to 5:00.

Blix for almost twice as long as instructed. For my kit it says 6:00, so I blix for 10:00. If using a two bath kit, extend both bleach and fix times. See troubleshooting to figure out if you need more blix

Rinse as normal. I recommend inspecting the film before stabilizing in case more blix is required.

Troubleshooting and FAQ:

Can I use a different B/W developer? - Yes, however not all developers are ideal. Before HC-110 I used a generic F-76+ developer and had problems reaching the native box speed, even with greatly extended development times and higher concentrations. HC-110 solution A is ideal because it's high contrast like slide film works best with, and it's also incredibly active, meaning you can develop the film very quickly. Previously 18 minutes and beyond was required just to reach half of the native ISO. HC-110 also does not seem to produce any color shifts by early development of the color couplers.

My film came out but it looks faded and blacks aren't deep - This is caused by a moderate to major lack of C-41 development. Ensure that your C-41 chemicals are still good

My film came out missing an entire color region, or there is only one color present - I've had this happen only twice and both times I chalk it up to my C-41 developer getting contaminated somehow.

There is a lot of grain and weird reddish coloring in the highlights - This is caused by lack of blix. If there is any grain AT ALL in the highlights of the film where it should be clear (like the exposed leader) then this indicates lack of blix. When not enough blix is applied it tends to affect only certain portions of the film, so that some frames will be correct and others not. There is no harm in putting the roll back into the blix if you see this. Note that massive under development in the B/W developer phase can also cause this, where the exposed leader is only gray rather than white.

Can I use stand development to decrease contrast/safely develop badly shot film? - I've tried this a few times. Do NOT under any circumstances use it for the C-41 development part. The result is really massive color shifts, fog, and lack of certain colors. For the B/W development part, it should be possible. Keep in mind though that you still need a very active developer and potentially raised temperatures. I tried doing stand development with the less active F-76+ stuff, and over 1 hour it barely even touched the film. Also for C-41 film, it's exposure latitude even when processed like this is much more forgiving than E-6 film. As long as the C-41 film isn't massively over exposed it should still produce something. I've used this with film that was suppose to be pushed 2 stops (ie, 400 ISO shot at 1600 ISO) and processed it this way with very good results.

I tried a different film and it looks weird - That's part of the fun. Each film, be it C-41 or E-6, has it's own unique character in this process. Sometimes the results aren't great, but it's almost always unique.

All my highlights are blown and the shadows are faded - If the unexposed portions of film are dark black, then you did not develop in B/W developer long enough. If the unexposed portions of film are not dark black, then you either did not fog for long enough, or you didn't do C-41 development long enough, or your C-41 developer can be contaminated... or of course you could've shot it at the wrong ISO in the camera.

My film is mostly black, or it looks under exposed - If the exposed (ie, leader on 35mm) portions of film are not clear, then you have a major lack of B/W development. If it is clear, then it is a moderate lack of B/W development, or inaccurate metering in the camera. (note that when shooting slide, it's typical to meter for shadows and not highlights)

My highlights are completely clear, but shadows are very dark - Part of this is the fun of slide film, but this can also indicate too much C-41 development. There is a balance to be struck between dark blacks and reasonable contrast. The more time you develop in C-41, the darker shadows will get and the deeper colors will turn.. but you'll have more contrast because the highlights will be more or less unaffected. If you greatly reduce the C-41 development time, contrast is pushed way down, but color saturation is also much weaker.

Can I push or pull with this process? - Of course! I don't have reliable times, but a 1 stop push appears to be around 8 minutes with HC-110 A. If you are looking to do extreme pushes of 2 or more stops, it can be helpful to pull in the C-41 process. If you pull (shorten development time) in C-41, then dark shadows can survive and not get completely blocked. Of course this has effects on color rendition, dMax, and can cause some (mostly correctable) color shifts. Note that if you push (extend development time) in C-41 development, then you need to push in B/W development even more, because pushing in C-41 effectively decreases the perceived speed of the film since shadow detail etc gets so dark, and contrast also can be drastically increased.

I followed everything you said, but ended up with a blue tint over everything - This is normal and varies depending on film. On some film it is a red tint. The tint appears to be incredibly minor (ie, you can only really see it when scanning) if the C-41 developer is fresh, and it seems to get worse as the C-41 developer is used to capacity. The blue tint is incredibly simple to correct out though, and there are otherwise no crazy color crossing with E-6 film like you see with traditional negative X-Pro. If the blue tint is not subtle, you may have also not done enough C-41 development. I've found "by the box" C-41 development to give some slightly more noticeable blue tint, but with extended times it goes away quickly. If you extend C-41 development a lot, then the blue tint eventually goes away completely, but also contrast can get pushed to insane amounts, so it's a balancing act.

Does this contaminate my C-41 developer, how many rolls can I process with one kit? - I have no idea to be honest. I've done normal C-41 processing after several rounds of this process with no problem. However, I have noticed that the kit capacity should really not be exceeded when using this process if you can help it. It introduces more and more color tints, and blix times especially will need to be extended potentially to 12 minutes or more since this process is much more blix intensive.

Is there some special way I should shoot with this process? - Just shoot it like slide film. The exposure latitude is about the same or only slightly reduced, so avoid really contrasty scenes if you want both shadows and highlights to have detail. Also keep in mind that it's safer to under expose slide film than over expose. A lot of shadow detail can be brought out of an under exposed slide with a good scanner.. but there is no highlight detail to recover. It's the opposite of color negative.

Why would you want to do this? - I hate needing to have a second batch of color chemicals mixed and going bad when I want to develop slide film without crazy colors like in X-Pro. I also like that the B/W developer can be used one-shot. But also I think the color changes are interesting. With C-41 film it can give a unique color pallette, while with E-6 film it gives fairly predictable colors. This process isn't like X-Pro when used with E-6 film, so it won't give you crazy color crossing where red is purple etc.. but it does change the strength of certain colors, and at least for Provia 100F, I think it makes things look similar to Kodachrome. For Velvia it seems to emphasize blue colors rather than green colors, etc. Also, unlike X-Pro, there is very little grain, about the amount (or maybe just slightly more) of grain you'd expect from slide film.

What can I expect from using C-41 film with this like Portra? - Orange base, color shifts, medium amount of contrast (usually), blown highlights, good looking shadows, and slightly finer grain than normal. Each stock of film tends to respond differently to this process. Superia 400 introduces some insane color shifts that can be very unflattering to skin tones, though can provide a dreamy look during golden hour lighting. Lomo color 400 (rebranded Gold 400 iirc) responds with somewhat normal colors, but with weak blue highlights but strong blue shadows, and other colors are very saturated and punchy

Ok, now we know the technical bits, lets move on to what the results actually look like. Each stock of film has it's own personality in this process. I personally like Provia's look the best so that's where I'll start

E-6 Provia 100F (120)

I processed this with newly mixed C-41 developer and the colors were worth it! This looks completely fine when held up to a slightly warm lightpad, but looks ever so slightly blue when held against a daylight lightpad. I also shot this on a cloudy day, which apparently results in a slight blue tint for Provia when processed normally. I took these using my Yashica Mat 124G, my favorite camera of all time for portraits.

Despite being a fairly cloudy day, I absolutely love the color of these. I did have to do some curve adjustment as they looked a quite blue to begin with, but I expect if I had my lightpad set to something near tungsten during scanning it would've looked almost as great with no correction at all. I especially love how the colors seem to pop, and how much contrast it has without blowing any important highlights. Absolutely perfect processing in my opinion. I think standard E-6 processing with Provia is a bit drab with less saturation. This process ramps up saturation without making things garrish like Velvia can sometimes be.

Bonus photo from my half-frame Pen EES-2:

E-6 Velvia 100 (120)

I did this on a slightly more cloudy day somewhere in Detroit, and again with my Mat 124G. This was with much less fresh C-41 developer (slightly past kit capacity) and it shows. I expect we'll see something more exciting when I do a batch of this with fresh developer. I also didn't have as much time to prepare for my shops since we were basically in the location thanks to the patience of a security guard, so I was relying more on the slightly inaccurate meter of my Mat 124G and a prayer. The ones close to over exposure actually turned out looking best with this. This film definitely had a blue tint to it, but with a very warm tungsten light could be passable and potentially used as slides.

As you can see the colors are definitely just not there like they should be in Velvia in most of the shots, but there was at least 1 that looked like what you'd expect. I've done this process (though not )

E-6 Ektachrome 320 (35mm)

This was my first time shooting with this film so I wasn't really sure what to expect.I got this as "retrochrome" from Film Photography Project and was advertised as being frozen since creation, so I just shot it at box speed and hoped for the best. I shot this film with my Leica M6 with a classic character Rokkor 40mm f/2 lens on a cloudy day. This film actually caused me to increase my blix recommendation time to 10 minutes. I was using exhausted blix (past capacity) and did it for 10 minutes and the rest of the tank was clear, but this film still had some silver grains in the highlights. If using exhausted blix, I'd say do 12 minutes minimum if using this film. Overall the results were a bit of a mess. The colors were muted and aged looking, and there was some slight color crossings. It worked for some subjects, but it wouldn't be something I'd shoot every day. For what I was using it for (Detroit and Heidelberg) it actually complimented things pretty well, but I'll use with caution in the future. This is also very old film that is supposedly government surplus. This may also have had a quality effect. Looking at some E-6 processed reference photos of this stuff, I'm really not that far off either though. Also this processed caused a considerable blue tint on the film, more so than is common with Velvia or Provia. It was simple to correct, but would not be suitable for projection.

I'd say, compared to E-6:

Some slight color crossing, especially in the green and yellow spectrum

Slightly more grainy

Significantly worse exposure latitude than Velvia or Provia. This film really seemed to have a sweet spot that I missed 90% of the time.

C-41 Superia 400 (35mm)

This was the first C-41 film I tried after figuring out the final process. It has always been an unpredictable process with C-41 film, but the color crossing in this one was especially... unique. C-41 film does of course always have the orange mask, so highlights are orange rather than clear. This is easy to correct, but of course makes it completely unsuitable for projection. These pictures were taken on a mix of a sunny day and near sunset.

The following were taken using an earlier version of the process (all the same but 8 minutes of B/W development) with my Pen EES-2 camera:

And the following were taken using the final version on my M6 with Jupiter 50mm f/1.5 lens:

The colors are definitely other worldly and in some cases quite dreamy. I love this for golden hour and sunset stuff, but the color crossing is a bit less subtle in open daylight. You have to be careful using this for skin tones, because it can definitely make skin look quite blotchy and unhealthy for some reason. In the two pictures of my wife (the redhead) you can see I gave up trying to keep the colors realistic and just went with the color pallette this film naturally gives me. When trying to correct things to be more natural it made skin tones look really bad. When color correcting this film in this process, everything is up for a bit of interpretation anyway.

C-41 Lomo Color 400 (35mm, rebranded Kodak Gold 400)

On this one, the colors are much more natural but very punchy. This roll was mostly under exposed (it was suppose to be pushed 2 stops) but had some surprisingly good results despite that with this process. Honestly this might be my new way of pushing C-41 film with some slight modifications.

E-6 Rollei CR200 / Lomography X-Pro 200 (120)

(This was added after the initial post)

This one came out with a really thick teal cast, and came out incredibly curly. Definitely not the typical slide experience, but if you correct out the cast, it's not too bad. I honestly have never processed this film in standard E-6 chemicals, so I'll just give the results I got:

AR-5 FPP Color IR (35mm)

(This was added after the initial post)

This one came out looking great. The only problem is that lens has no focus mark that corrects for IR light, and so things aren't nearly as sharp as they should be. Regardless, these slides came out looking great. I'm not sure if it's the film with a red filter, or the process or what, but the results definitely lean to the greener side. It is still more grainy than I'd like. I've heard you actually get less grain with this stuff when processing normally in C-41 as a negative, and more grain with E-6.

Conclusion

For E-6 film this is definitely a doable substitute to traditional processing. I prefer only keeping one set of chemicals and using every one-shot if possible, and this process allows for both. You do have to be careful to not use exhausted chemicals and such, but overall it's a less finicky process than traditional E-6. The only complication is that fogging must be done manually. This isn't a problem with steel reels, but is near impossible with plastic reels. I bet some smart person out there knows how to make a chemical fogging agent, but I've failed to find it in my searching on google. Also I'm not sure how much I trust chemical fogs, since that is yet another chemical to go bad, so I'll personally never use it. If anyone does find out though, definitely message me on reddit and I'll include something here about it: u/earlzdotnet

#film #film photography #darkroom #film development #cross processing #x-pro

8 notes · View notes

hospitaldirectory · 3 years ago

Text

How is a Derma Jet Useful?

The Derma Jet is a suitable tool for rapid inoculation of medicine into the skin. It functions by creating a high-velocity microjet that enters the skin without a pointer and unswerving skin interaction. The tool is of special usage in the intralesional inoculation of corticosteroids in a diversity of skin illnesses. The penetration of diffusion of the Derma Jet is specified by the Derma Jet Manufacturers to be 4 to 6 mm. The chunkiness of the cheek is usually about 5 mm, but is abridged in parts of wither. It permits for the intradermal inoculation of explanations for many cures counting but not restricted to: local anaesthesia, hair replacement, corticosteroid inoculation, cure of hypertrophic and keloid blemishes and handling of lumps. Derma Jet substitutable points make it relaxed to change from single-dose craniums to multi-dose craniums using the quick-release skill in seconds. The needleless injector permits for up to 80 inoculations before there is a need to refill the tank permitting for rapid and relaxed bulk immunization.

The Needleless injector of the Derma Jet originates with substitutable pasteurized inoculation points. These substitutable points make it relaxed to change from single-dose craniums to multi-dose craniums. Four phases need to be accomplished before using the Derma Jet to manage any fluid suppository.

· Initial Cleaning: The plastic chamber is packed with disinfected water to eliminate any impurities from the injector head. The chamber is then scoured with the cleaner solution and then washed methodically with water.

· Purification: The Derma Jet can be decontaminated either by using sweltering water or by autoclaving.

· Loading: The injector head is detached from the body, and a pointer needle is used to stuff the medicine into the expedient. The injector head is then fastened back onto the Derma Jet.

· Priming: The expedient is held upside down, and the jack grip is pressed to eliminate any extra air from the expedient.

Once all these phases have been finished, the Derma Jet can be used to shoot up the medicine into the patient.

Benefits of the Dermojet Injector

There are a multiplicity of assistances that can be multiplied by using the Derma Jet expedient.

· Dermojet is constructed using chrome stainless steel. This solid delivers compensations of purity, toughness, corrosion resistance, and faultless aesthetics.

· The expedient is relaxed to use in standings of medicine padding and management.

· Dermojet ruptures and does not core the skin. Therefore, the procedure is inoffensive and easy.

· When directing the medication, the expedient can be fired from any position.

· It can be used to direct different types of medicines, counting antibiotics, inoculations, and solvable medications. It can also be used for painkilling solutions, steroids in aqueous check, and parenteral medicines.

Cleaning inside the lumen: rinse the DERMOJET by filling the reservoir with one ml of distilled water with neutral detergent and eject the neutral detergent by triggering the apparatus, but after, the same process will have to be used with purified water only to expel the residual cleanser outside the lumen.

Rinse the gadget by filling the tank with one millilitre of refined water and expel the water by activating the apparatus

If you are looking for Derma Jet Dealers, please log into Ozahub.

#Derma Jet Manufacturers #Derma Jet Suppliers #Derma Jet Dealers

0 notes

sbknews · 3 years ago

Text

2022 HONDA CB500F

Model updates: Honda’s A2-compatible mini-streetfighter receives major performance-focussed improvements led by new Showa 41mm Separate Function Fork Big Piston (SFF-BP) USD forks, dual disc front brakes and radial-mount calipers. Front tyre grip is heightened with more forward weight bias; handling is further improved by the new swingarm, which is lighter with more lateral flex. The rear shock has new settings to complement the new forks. Redesigned wheels and a lighter radiator save more weight and new fuel injection settings improve engine character. More powerful headlight LEDs and front indicator position lights offer greater visibility.

22YM HONDA CB500F - Introduction The naked CB500F – originally launched in 2013 alongside the adventure-styled CB500X and fully-faired CBR500R – has quietly proved that one of Honda’s tried-and-trusted formulas for building popular motorcycles has lost none of its relevance. That formula? An entertaining twin-cylinder engine wrapped in a simple, lightweight, sporty chassis, which is as much fun for an experienced rider as it is for those still building their riding career. And while a 35kW peak power output makes it suitable for A2 licence holders, the CB500F offers so much more than ‘entry level’ performance. While its compact dimensions and welcoming manners make it an easy machine to manage, ride and learn on, those same attributes also make it a genuine pleasure for those – whether stepping up from a 125 or coming down from a bigger machine – who want to explore just what it can do at the weekend. Sensible running costs, whatever the situation, add strongly to the appeal. In 2019, the CB500F was redrawn with uncompromising lines that elevated its technical and mechanical aspects and in 2020 it was homologated for EURO5. Having proved its continued popularity, for 2022 it receives high-quality suspension in the form of Showa 41mm SFF-BP USD forks, dual front discs, new lightweight wheels and swingarm and other detail updates including three striking new colours.

22YM HONDA CB500F - Model Overview Alongside engine changes such as revised fuel injection settings and a new lighter radiator, the chassis benefits from the addition of Showa 41mm SFF-BP USD forks, dual Nissin radial mount two-piston calipers biting 296mm discs, lighter-weight 5-spoke wheels and redesigned swingarm – for improved high-speed handling and braking. Weight bias also moves fractionally forward compared to the previous model, for enhanced front tyre grip and feel. Styling is updated with a new front mudguard, inherited from the CB650R, and sporty aluminium footpegs are now also standard fit. As before, LCD instruments feature a Shift Up and Gear Position function. All lighting is LED, with optimised high/low headlight beam from the new headlight and position lights. The 2022 CB500F will be available in the following colour options: Grand Prix Red Matt Axis Grey Metallic **NEW for 2022** Pearl Smokey Gray **NEW for 2022** Pearl Dusk Yellow **NEW for 2022**

22YM HONDA CB500F - Key Features 3.1 Chassis & Styling - New 41mm Showa Separate Function Fork Big Piston (SFF-BP) USD forks - New dual 296mm discs matched to Nissin radial mount two-piston calipers - Lighter weight wheels and swingarm, plus aluminium footpegs - More forward weight bias for enhanced front tyre grip - Revised LEDs for the headlight for improved high/low beam Light, strong and unchanged for 2022, the 35mm diameter steel diamond-tube mainframe has a tuned degree of yield that gives plenty of feedback to the rider as road surfaces change. The shape and position of the engine mounts, plus the frame’s rigidity balance, keep vibration to a minimum. Immediately obvious is a brand-new front end set-up. With the aim to heighten sporty handling performance the 41mm telescopic forks of the previous design have been replaced by Showa 41mm Separate Function Fork Big Piston (SFF-BP) USD forks, clamped by new top and bottom yokes. By dividing the functions – Big Piston pressure separation damper in one leg, spring mechanism in the other – reaction and ride quality are both improved. The four-cylinder CB650R uses the exact same set-up. In a further effort to improve the ride quality, the 2022 CB500F features new lighter wheels with 5 Y-shaped spokes rather than the 6 of the previous model. The front wheel width remains 3.5inch with a 120/70-ZR17 tyre and the rear 4.5inch with 160/60-ZR17 tyre. A redesigned swingarm also shaves grams; it’s now constructed from 2mm steel (rather than 2.3mm) and employs a hollow cross member and crisply redesigned chain guard. Stiffer rotationally, the new swingarm is also more flexible laterally to improve handling. The single-tube rear shock absorber (as found on larger capacity sports bikes) with its large-diameter piston ensures excellent response and temperature management; it features 5-stage preload adjustment with spring rate and damping settings optimised to match the forks.

22YM HONDA CB500F In line with the dynamic improvements to the chassis and suspension, the braking performance has also been improved. The single 320mm and two-piston caliper front brake from the previous model has been replaced by dual 296mm discs and Nissin radial-mount, two-piston calipers. The introduction of the smaller discs not only keeps any additional weight gain to a minimum, but also reduces the required pressure on the lever when braking. The new CB500F’s kerb weight remains 189kg, but it places more weight on the front wheel than the previous model to promote more nimble handling and improve front end grip: front/rear bias percentage is now 49.7/50.3 (compared to 46.8/53.2). Wheelbase remains 1410mm with rake and trail of 25.5°/102mm. The naked form exudes aggression. Led by the sharply-chiselled headlight – now even more piercing with extra-powerful LEDs and a new stronger cluster arrangement, plus high-visibility front indicator position lights – the machine’s stance is low-set and ready for action; the side shrouds interlock with the fuel tank and fully emphasize the engine, while the side covers and seat unit continue the theme of muscular angularity. The compact front mudguard is drawn directly from the CB650R. Tapered handlebars offer intuitive feel and leverage. Seat height is low at 789mm, making the CB500F very easy to manage and its neutral riding position comfortably accommodates riders of any height. More purposeful-looking aluminium footpegs replace the previous rubberised parts; between the pair they save a further 104g. Overall dimensions are 2080mm x 800mm x 1060mm, with 145mm ground clearance. The fuel tank holds 17.1L including reserve and combined with the engine’s excellent 3.5L/100km (28.6km/litre) fuel economy, gives a range of over 485km.

22YM HONDA CB500F 3.2 Engine - Lively twin-cylinder powerplant delivers usable power and torque across the rev-range, plus sporty sound from its dual-exit muffler - New PGM-FI settings improve torque feel and character - New radiator design more stylish and lighter - Assist/slipper clutch eases upshifts and manages downshifts - Homologated for EURO5 The 2022 CB500F’s A2-licence friendly 471cc, 8-valve liquid-cooled parallel twin-cylinder layout offers a well-proportioned balance of physical size and willing, enjoyable power output, with an energetic, high-revving character and zappy top end. The 2019 upgrades created faster acceleration through a 4% boost in low-to-mid-range power and torque in the 3-7,000rpm range. It's very much an engine whose overall performance and character belie its relatively small capacity. Peak power of 35kW arrives at 8,600rpm, with 43Nm torque delivered at 6,500rpm. Feeding the PGM-FI fuel injection is a more-or-less straight shot of airflow through the airbox and throttle bodies and for the 2022 year model, new settings improve torque feel and character without compromising performance. The exhaust muffler features dual exit pipes, giving a sporting edge to each pulse, and a rasping high-rpm howl. A new more aesthetically pleasing radiator design contributes a 100g weight saving, with no loss of cooling efficiency.

22YM HONDA CB500F Bore and stroke are set at 67mm x 66.8mm and compression ratio is 10.7:1; the crankshaft pins are phased at 180° and a primary couple-balancer sits behind the cylinders, close to the bike’s centre of gravity. The primary and balancer gears use scissor gears, reducing noise. The crank counterweight is specifically shaped for couple-balance and its light weight allows the engine to spin freely, with reduced inertia. Acting as a stressed member, the engine complements the frame’s rigidity with four frame hangers on the cylinder head. Internally the cylinder head uses roller rocker arms; shim-type valve adjustment allows them to be light, for lower valve-spring load and reduced friction. A silent (SV Chain) cam chain has the surface of its pins treated with Vanadium, reducing friction with increased protection against wear. Inlet valve diameter is 26.0mm with exhaust valve diameter of 21.5mm. Piston shape is carefully designed to reduce piston ‘noise’ at high rpm. Friction is reduced by striations on the piston skirt (a finish that increases surface area, introducing gaps in which oil can flow for better lubrication). The ‘triangle’ proportion of crankshaft, main shaft and countershaft is efficiently compact. The crankcases uses centrifugally cast thin-walled sleeves; their internal design reduces the ‘pumping’ losses that can occur with a 180° phased firing order. A deep sump reduces oil movement under hard cornering and braking; oil capacity is 3.2L.The slick-changing six-speed gearbox is managed by an assist/slipper clutch.

22YM HONDA CB500F - Accessories A range of Genuine Honda Accessories are available for the CB500F. They include: 35L top box Rear carrier Tank bag Seat bag Smoke windscreen Heated grips 12V/USB Type-C sockets Seat cowl Wheel stripes Tank pad Main stand

22YM HONDA CB500F - Technical Specifications ENGINE Type Liquid-cooled 4 stroke, parallel twin Displacement 471cc No of Valves per Cylinder 4 Bore & Stroke 67mm x 66.8mm Compression Ratio 10.7: 1 Max. Power Output 35kW @ 8600rpm Max. Torque 43Nm @ 6500rpm Noise Level (dB) L-urban 74dB L-wot 76.4dB Oil Capacity 3.2L FUEL SYSTEM Carburation PGM FI electronic fuel injection Fuel Tank Capacity 17.1L (inc reserve) CO2 Emissions (WMTC) 80 g/km Fuel Consumption (WMTC) 3.5L/100km (28.6km/litre) ELECTRICAL SYSTEM Battery Capacity 12V 7.4AH ACG Output 23.4A/2000rpm DRIVETRAIN Clutch Type Wet multiplate, Assisted slipper clutch Transmission Type 6 speed Final Drive Chain FRAME Type Steel diamond CHASSIS Dimensions (L´W´H) 2080mm x 800mm x 1060mm Wheelbase 1410mm Caster Angle 25.5 degrees Trail 102mm Seat Height 789mm Ground Clearance 145mm Kerb Weight 189kg SUSPENSION Type Front Showa 41mm SFF-BP USD forks, pre-load adjustable Type Rear Prolink mono with 5 stage pre-load adjuster, Steel hollow cross swingarm WHEELS Type Front 5Y-Spoke Cast Aluminium Type Rear 5Y-Spoke Cast Aluminium Rim Size Front 17 x MT3.5 Rim Size Rear 17 x MT4.5 Tyres Front 120/70ZR17M/C (58W) Tyres Rear 160/60ZR17M/C (69W) BRAKES ABS System Type 2-channel Type Front Dual 296mm x 4mm disc with Nissin radial-mount two piston calipers Type Rear Single 240mm x 5mm disc with single piston caliper INSTRUMENTS & ELECTRICS Instruments LCD Meter with Speedometer, Bar Graph Tachometer, Dual Trip Meters, Fuel Level and Consumption Gauge, Clock, Water Temp, Gear position, Shift UP Indicator Headlight LED Taillight LED Security System HISS (Honda Intelligent Security System) All specifications are provisional and subject to change without notice. # Please note that the figures provided are results obtained by Honda under standardised testing conditions prescribed by WMTC. Tests are conducted on a rolling road using a standard version of the vehicle with only one rider and no additional optional equipment. Actual fuel consumption may vary depending on how you ride, how you maintain your vehicle, weather, road conditions, tire pressure, installation of accessories, cargo, rider and passenger weight, and other factors.

22YM HONDA CB500F For more Honda Motorcycles UK news check out our dedicated page Honda Motorcycles UK News or head to the official Honda Motorcycles UK website honda.co.uk/motorcycles.html Follow us on social media: Instagram: @superbikenews Twitter: @sbknews Facebook: @superbikenews SBN Directory - add your motorcycle related business here

Click here for more info on Arai Helmets

Click here for more info on Xena Security

Click here for more info and to buy Biker T-Shirts

Grid Girls UK If you would like to receive our headlines daily to your email inbox then sign up to our newsletter: Here Subscribe to our news channels: Here

Read the full article

#Honda #HondaCB500F #HondaMotorcycles #HondaUK #MotorcycleNews #Motorcycles

0 notes