#Skid-Resistance

[bloggerpost2w322]

Aluminium 6082 Chequered Plates: Strength, Versatility, and Applications

Aluminium 6082 chequered plates, also known as tread plates or diamond plates, are renowned for their strength, lightweight nature, and corrosion resistance. This blog explores the properties, applications, and benefits of Aluminium 6082 chequered plates, emphasizing their importance in construction, transportation, and manufacturing sectors.

Properties of Aluminium 6082 Chequered Plates

Aluminium 6082 chequered plates offer several key properties that make them suitable for diverse applications:

High Strength: Provides excellent structural integrity and load-bearing capacity, ideal for heavy-duty applications.

Lightweight: Aluminium's low density makes 6082 chequered plates easy to handle and install, reducing overall structural weight.

Corrosion Resistance: Resistant to corrosion and weathering, ensuring durability in outdoor and marine environments.

Skid-Resistance: Patterned surface design enhances grip and reduces slipping, making them ideal for flooring and stair treads.

Machinability: Easy to fabricate and machine, allowing for precise cutting and shaping in manufacturing processes.

Recyclability: Fully recyclable without loss of properties, supporting sustainability efforts in construction and manufacturing.

Applications of Aluminium 6082 Chequered Plates

Aluminium 6082 chequered plates find extensive use across various industries and applications:

Transportation: Used in truck beds, trailers, and marine vessels for their durability and skid-resistant properties.

Construction: Ideal for flooring, stair treads, and walkways in commercial buildings, industrial facilities, and outdoor structures.

Manufacturing: Utilized as protective and decorative elements in machinery, equipment, and architectural applications.

Decorative Purposes: Applied in interior design and architectural projects for their aesthetic appeal and functional benefits.

Safety Applications: Employed in industrial settings and public spaces to enhance safety by reducing the risk of slips and falls.

Benefits of Aluminium 6082 Chequered Plates

Aluminium 6082 chequered plates offer several advantages, making them a preferred choice in various applications:

Enhanced Safety: Provides a secure, non-slip surface, improving safety in high-traffic areas and industrial environments.

Longevity: Resistant to corrosion, abrasion, and wear, ensuring extended service life with minimal maintenance.

Versatility: Available in different patterns, thicknesses, and sizes to suit specific application requirements.

Cost-Effectiveness: Lower installation and maintenance costs compared to alternative materials, contributing to overall project savings.

Environmental Sustainability: Fully recyclable and energy-efficient during production, supporting green building initiatives.

Conclusion

Aluminium 6082 chequered plates are essential in industries where safety, durability, and aesthetics are paramount. Their unique patterned surface and robust properties make them versatile for various applications in transportation, construction, manufacturing, and decorative uses. Understanding the properties and benefits of Aluminium 6082 chequered plates underscores their significance in enhancing safety, efficiency, and sustainability across diverse sectors.

[dailypearldoodles]

Day 392

Star Pearl!!! How fitting!! much skykid potential to be had lmao

[thegoldenshi-shi]

Room 814 vs Room 512 ended a little differently than planned.

or

Bob is a very caring roommate.

(Bidh falbh (ye) mosgìoto mòr) basically means go away (you) big mosquito in Scottish. I like Scottish Skids.

[latteandjacks]

Man I like this au x2

This is the first time in months I can draw without a time limit of one hour per day and with a pen instead of my finger/mouse and I think it shows because the anatomy looks less rushed and I actually took the time to draw hands, plus the quality remains mostly intact as there's no re-sends You can also tell I like Kevin and Bob, which is funny because I dislike original Bob a lot

Anyways the au belongs to @zleepysnails, some of these characters belong to @jacenotjason and I'm gonna go hide under a rock because I hate tagging people see you all tomorrow

Close up of the colored ones because I’m proud of how they turned out

Fun fact Bob's one comes from a hispanic ytp(h) about Donkey Kong, still one of the few ytph that aged well

[zephyrrhiesfyrian]

I have more MTMTE sillies for you.

whirl lounging

there are no words for this panel

happy pride month everybody <3

we stan simpatico in this household (also why is there just an abyss behind percy's aiming reticule)

"holy shit nautica -you have friends?"

the fact that nightbeat is just inexplicably more fit than a literal special ops agent will never not be funny to me

"yes yes good job my child"

atomizer is busting it down (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

[mobydickering]

i've started watching 9-1-1 and i think they really missed a trick with not including a "where are they now" montage at the end of each episode.

did the lady whose face half fell off get her face back? did the man who got inflated by a tire nozzle in his ass successfully deflate?? will we ever know what happened to diego and the shark??? I MUST KNOW

[the-spooky-children]

The FNF corruption mod could never happen in SM because we all know in our hearts that, no matter what, Skid would end up being fucking fine

[lycoris-artcorner]

Skids having a good time on the beach

[interdimensionalvoid]

I may have done a thing

[thescience97]

[guodaesdmat]

At Guoda, we take pride in delivering innovative solutions that cater to the unique needs of various industries. Our product line includes the Anti-Static Anti-Skidding Mat, Grid Anti-Skidding Table Mat, and the Wear Resistant Anti-Static Anti-Skidding Table Mat. These mats are designed to provide exceptional advantages and performance in work environments where electrostatic discharge (ESD) protection and skid resistance are paramount.

[sophiaidomovement11]

Ballet shoes made from high-quality elasticated canvas uppers. The shoes feature resistance split soles to make it more stable and fitted on your feet when dancing as well as allowing it to be easily put on and removed. The shoes are wear-resistant and skid-resistant to prevent wrestling and are suitable for ballet dance, jazz, gymnastics, yoga, modern dance, ballroom dance and dance training.

[minimac-mspl]

Case shot 6 Critical project successfully executed for ISO 9001 Certified - Millenium's shipbuilding yard under the Ministry of Ports, Shipping, and Waterways (Defence Sector).

[pucksandpower]

Oscat

shifter!Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: when you see an adorable stray black cat hanging around your neighborhood, you can’t resist taking him in … but there’s just one problem, the cat’s not actually a cat

Oscar Piastri never thought his life would come to this — crouched under a battered kitchen chair in a cramped university flat, ears flattened against his skull, tail twitching nervously as he watches you fumble with a small red collar.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” you coo, your voice soft and coaxing. You wiggle your fingers, the sound of the collar's bell jingling faintly as you shake it. “I promise you’ll look so cute in this.”

Oscar can’t believe he’s let it get this far. One moment, he’s wandering the neighborhood as a cat, enjoying the freedom that comes with paws instead of feet, and the next — this. A crazy girl who somehow managed to corral him into her apartment and is now intent on … he doesn’t even know what. But he knows it’s not good. He considers bolting, but you’re blocking the only exit, and he isn’t sure he has it in him to leap past you without causing a scene.

“C’mon, I know you like the tuna,” you say, holding up a plate with some leftover fish you’d put out for him earlier. “Just let me get this on you, and I’ll give you more, okay?”

He narrows his eyes, inching back under the chair. This whole situation is ridiculous, and he’s thoroughly regretting his decision to stick around after the first time you fed him. But there was something about you that drew him in — a warmth, maybe, or just the sheer determination with which you tried to get him to trust you.

But now you’ve crossed a line.

You sigh, clearly frustrated, and sit back on your heels. “Why are you being so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I just want to make sure you’re safe, you know? What if you get lost or hurt? You need a collar, at least …”

Oscar’s ears perk up at the concern in your voice, and he feels a pang of guilt. You don’t know what you’re doing — how could you? To you, he’s just a stray cat, not a twenty-three-year-old Formula 1 driver with a secret he can’t afford to let anyone find out. He’s supposed to be smart, calculated, always one step ahead. Not cowering under a chair because a university student wants to play house with him.

You huff and toss the collar onto the table with a clatter. “Fine,” you say, standing up and crossing your arms. “I’ll leave you alone for now, but you’re not getting any more tuna unless you let me put that on you.”

Oscar’s stomach growls, and he curses his weakness. The tuna had been good — too good, if he’s being honest. He watches as you turn away, heading into another room. This is his chance. He could make a break for it, slip out the door before you even realize what’s happening.

But he hesitates.

Why? He wonders, paws shifting restlessly. This isn’t like him. He should be gone by now, back to the comfort of his flat, where he can shift back and pretend this whole mess never happened. Yet something keeps him rooted in place.

Then, he hears you talking to someone on the phone.

“Yes, I found a stray,” you say, your voice echoing slightly through the walls. “He’s so cute, but I don’t know … do you think I should take him to the vet? Get him checked out?”

Oscar’s blood runs cold. This is bad. This is really bad. He needs to get out — now.

You continue, “I was thinking maybe I could get him neutered too, you know? So he doesn’t run off and get hurt or something … ”

He bolts from under the chair, skidding across the linoleum as he makes a beeline for the door. But before he can reach it, you step back into the room, phone pressed to your ear.

“Whoa, whoa!” You exclaim, dropping the phone onto the table as you rush to block his path. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Oscar tries to dart around you, but you’re quicker than he anticipated, and he’s forced to leap onto the counter instead. He glares at you from his new perch, fur bristling in warning.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, hands on your hips. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Yeah, help me lose my manhood,” Oscar mutters under his breath, though it comes out as an indignant hiss.

You frown, clearly not understanding his displeasure. “You’re acting like I’m torturing you or something,” you say, reaching out cautiously. “Just let me put the collar on, okay? Then I’ll leave you alone.”

Oscar swats at your hand, his claws barely grazing your skin. He doesn’t want to hurt you — he just wants you to back off. This is getting too close for comfort.

You pull your hand back, eyes widening in surprise. “Okay, okay, no collar,” you say, trying to soothe him. “We’ll figure something else out.”

But Oscar’s had enough. He leaps from the counter to the windowsill, then down to the floor, and races towards the door again. This time, he manages to slip past you, his sleek black fur a blur as he darts through the narrow opening.

He hears you call after him, your voice tinged with worry, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. He sprints down the hallway, paws pounding against the carpeted floor, until he reaches the stairwell. He takes the steps two at a time, his heart racing as he finally bursts out into the cool evening air.

Freedom.

He doesn’t slow down until he’s a good block away from your building, his chest heaving as he ducks into the shadows of a nearby alley. He’s safe. For now.

But then he hears it — your voice, faint but unmistakable, carried on the breeze as you step out of your apartment, searching for him.

“Kitty?” You call, your voice trembling slightly. “Where did you go?”

Oscar slinks further into the shadows, his heart twisting with guilt. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he couldn’t let you take him to the vet. He couldn’t let you get too close. But now, as he listens to the sound of your footsteps growing fainter, he feels a pang of something he hasn’t felt in a long time — regret.

“Please come back,” you whisper, and he can hear the tears in your voice. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to help …”

Oscar’s resolve weakens, his tail flicking nervously as he peeks around the corner. He can see you standing there, arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. You look so small, so vulnerable, and it tugs at something deep inside him.

He shouldn’t care. He’s not supposed to care. He’s always kept his distance, never letting anyone get too close, especially not like this. But here you are, and for reasons he can’t quite explain, he doesn’t want to see you cry.

He takes a tentative step forward, but then stops himself. What can he do? Walk back into your life, let you put that collar on him, and risk everything? Or turn away, leave you behind, and never look back?

You’re wiping at your eyes now, sniffling quietly. “I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself. “Why did I think I could just … ugh.”

Oscar’s ears droop. This is all wrong. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t feel this way. But the sight of you, standing there alone, makes him want to go back, to do something, anything, to make you smile again.

Before he can make a decision, you give up and turn back towards the building, your shoulders slumped in defeat.

Oscar watches you go, every instinct telling him to stay hidden, to let you go. But as you disappear through the door, he finds himself inching forward, until he’s standing just outside the entrance, ears perked up, listening for any sign of you.

Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, this isn’t over yet.

***

Oscar can’t help it. He tells himself he’s just checking in, that it’s only temporary. But day after day, he finds himself outside your building, watching, waiting, listening.

It starts with a cautious glance through the window, his keen eyes picking out your silhouette as you move about your flat. The blinds are often drawn, but he can still see enough. Enough to know that something’s changed.

You’re not yourself.

The first day after he ran away, he saw you sitting by the window, staring out into the distance, your face etched with worry. He tells himself it’s none of his business. That he’s done the right thing by leaving. But every time he turns to go, he finds his paws rooted to the spot, his gaze drawn back to you.

And then there’s the phone calls.

Oscar doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he can’t help it when your voice carries through the thin walls of the apartment building. One day, he’s curled up on the windowsill of the flat next door when he hears you talking on the phone again, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness.

“I just don’t understand,” you say, pacing back and forth. “He was here one minute and then gone the next. I’m so worried about him.”

Oscar’s ears perk up, guilt gnawing at him as he listens. You’re talking about him, of course. He knows that. And the fact that you’re still thinking about him, still concerned for his well-being, makes him feel like the world’s biggest jerk.

“He looked healthy,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “But what if something happened to him? What if he got hurt or … or worse?”

He winces at the pain in your voice. He didn’t want to scare you, didn’t want to make you worry. But what choice did he have? Letting you take him to the vet would have exposed him — both literally and figuratively. He couldn’t risk that.

“I read somewhere that stray cats have a lifespan of less than two years,” you say, your tone now laced with a mixture of fear and sadness. “I don’t want that to happen to him. I just … I just want him to be okay.”

Oscar closes his eyes, your words cutting deeper than any wound he’s ever felt. He doesn’t want to be the cause of your pain. But what can he do?

Then, he hears it — the soft, broken sound of you crying.

It’s like a punch to the gut. His ears flatten against his head, and he feels an overwhelming wave of guilt and shame. He doesn’t like seeing you like this. No, that’s not right — he hates it. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you, yet here you are, crying because of him.

He tries to walk away, to tell himself that it’s for the best, that you’ll move on and forget about him eventually. But the sound of your sobs echoes in his ears, haunting him, and he knows he can’t just leave it like this.

Maybe going back for a few hours won’t hurt anyone, he rationalizes, pacing back and forth in the alley. He’ll show up, let you see he’s okay, and then leave before things get too complicated. Simple.

But as he sits there, tail flicking with nervous energy, he realizes it’s not that simple. Because the truth is, he doesn’t want to leave. Not really. There’s something about you that draws him in, something that makes him feel … safe.

Wanted.

Needed.

And so, with a heavy sigh, he makes his decision. He waits until the sun sets, the shadows growing long and the streets quiet. Then, he slips through the narrow gap in the window that you always leave open, landing softly on the worn carpet of your living room.

You don’t notice him at first. You’re sitting on the couch, knees drawn up to your chest, your phone discarded on the cushion next to you. You’re staring at the TV, but it’s clear you’re not really watching it. Your eyes are red, cheeks stained with tears, and Oscar’s heart clenches at the sight.

He takes a cautious step forward, then another, his movements slow and deliberate. He doesn’t want to startle you, doesn’t want to make things worse. But as he approaches, you suddenly turn your head, your eyes widening as they meet his.

“Kitty?” You breathe, sitting up straight. For a moment, you just stare at him, as if you can’t believe he’s real. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across your face, soft and relieved. “You came back.”

Oscar doesn’t move, watching you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. When you don’t make any sudden movements, he takes another step closer, his ears twitching nervously.

You wipe at your eyes, trying to compose yourself. “I thought I’d lost you,” you say, your voice shaky but full of warmth. “Where did you go?”

He doesn’t answer, of course — he can’t. But he does allow himself to move closer, until he’s standing right in front of you, his nose just inches from your outstretched hand.

“Can I … ” you ask, your hand hovering in the air, waiting for his permission.

Oscar hesitates for just a moment before he nuzzles against your palm, his fur brushing against your skin. It feels … right, somehow. Comforting. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch as you gently stroke his head, your fingers trailing down his back in soothing motions.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, and Oscar can hear the relief in your voice. “I was so worried.”

Guilt twists in his chest again, but he pushes it aside. He’s here now, and that’s what matters. He’ll stay for a little while, just long enough to make sure you’re okay, too.

You sit back, still petting him, and Oscar takes the opportunity to hop up onto the couch beside you. He curls up next to you, resting his head on your leg, and for a moment, everything feels … normal. Peaceful, even.

“You must have been so scared,” you murmur, your voice soft as you continue to stroke his fur. “Running away like that … I don’t blame you, though. I must have freaked you out with all that vet talk.”

Oscar doesn’t react, but internally, he’s cursing himself. Of course you’re blaming yourself. Why wouldn’t you? You have no idea who — or what — he really is. To you, he’s just a scared little stray cat who panicked and bolted at the first sign of trouble.

“But I’m not going to push you anymore,” you say, as if reading his thoughts. “I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”

The sincerity in your voice hits Oscar like a ton of bricks. He knows he shouldn’t be here, knows he’s playing with fire by getting this close. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care. He’s missed this — missed you, even though he barely knows you.

You lean back against the couch, your hand still resting on his back, and Oscar feels a strange sense of contentment wash over him. It’s been a long time since he’s felt this way — since he’s allowed himself to feel this way. And as much as he knows he should leave, he can’t. Not yet.

He hears you yawn, the sound soft and tired, and he lifts his head to look up at you. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open, your movements slow and drowsy. It’s late, and he can see the exhaustion etched into your features.

“Guess we both had a long day,” you mumble, your hand coming to rest on the couch beside him as you settle back into the cushions. “I should probably get to bed.”

Oscar watches as you slowly push yourself up, stretching as you stand. He expects you to head to your bedroom, to leave him on the couch for the night. But instead, you glance down at him, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Wanna come with me?” You ask, your voice soft and inviting.

He knows it’s a bad idea. He knows he should stay right where he is, let you go to bed, and slip out the window before morning comes. But the thought of leaving you alone, of returning to the cold, empty streets outside, makes his chest tighten with a loneliness he hasn’t felt in years.

So, against his better judgment, he hops down from the couch and follows you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

You open the door, flicking on a small bedside lamp, and Oscar watches as you move around the room, pulling back the covers and fluffing up your pillows. He hesitates at the threshold, his instincts warring with the pull he feels toward you.

But then you turn to him, patting the space beside you on the bed, and he’s powerless to resist.

“C’mon, kitty,” you say, your voice warm and coaxing. “You can sleep here tonight.”

He pads over to the bed, jumping up onto the soft mattress. It’s warm, inviting, and before he knows it, he’s curled up next to you, your presence calming in a way he didn’t think possible.

You slip under the covers, lying on your side, and Oscar snuggles closer, his body pressed against yours. He can feel your steady breathing, hear the soft rustle of the sheets as you settle in, and it lulls him into a sense of safety he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, your voice already thick with sleep.

Oscar's eyes drift closed, his body warm and relaxed as he nestles against you. He knows he should be on high alert, ready to bolt at any moment, but for the first time in what feels like forever, he allows himself to let go. Just for tonight.

As you fall asleep beside him, your hand resting gently on his back, Oscar realizes he’s found something here — something he didn’t know he was missing. He can’t stay forever, but maybe, just maybe, he can stay a little longer.

Just for tonight.

***

Oscar wakes to the sound of a scream that nearly sends him bolting out of bed. His eyes fly open, his heart hammering in his chest, but the feeling that greets him isn’t the familiar warmth of fur or the safe confines of a small, curled-up position.

It’s a body — a human body.

His human body.

And beside him, you’re staring at him, your eyes wide with shock, your mouth open in mid-scream as you scramble to the edge of the bed, clutching the covers around you like a shield.

“What the — who the hell are you?” You shriek, your voice high-pitched and panicked.

Oscar’s brain stutters to catch up with what’s happening. He glances down at himself, realizing with a jolt that he’s completely naked. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This isn’t happening. How could he have been so careless? He’s been shifting for years, but never like this. Never in front of someone. Never in such a vulnerable position.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, his voice rough with sleep and panic. He grabs at the nearest pillow, pressing it to his lap in a desperate attempt to cover himself. “Just, um, don’t freak out. Please.”

“Explain?” You repeat, your voice trembling as you blink rapidly, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. “What the hell are you doing in my bed? And why are you … why are you … naked?”

Oscar’s mind races, the words tangling together in his head. He’s supposed to be good under pressure — he’s faced down race cars at hundreds of kilometers per hour, for crying out loud. But right now, all he can think about is how utterly screwed he is.

“I-I’m not a creep, I swear,” he blurts out, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to — this isn’t what it looks like.”

Your eyes narrow, still full of fear and confusion, but also dawning recognition. You stare at him for a long moment, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then, slowly, the pieces start to fall into place, and your expression shifts from terror to something else entirely.

“Wait a minute,” you say, squinting at him. “I know you. You’re … Oscar Piastri?”

He winces at the sound of his name. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

You gape at him, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words. “Oscar Piastri is in my bed. Naked. And I’m … wait, am I still dreaming? Did I fall asleep watching Formula 1 highlights again?”

“No, no, you’re not dreaming,” Oscar says quickly, shaking his head. “This is real. But I promise, I can explain. Just … can we, maybe, both take a breath for a second?”

You inhale sharply, clutching the covers tighter around yourself as you stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “Okay,” you say, your voice shaky. “Breathing. Breathing is good. But you still owe me a pretty big explanation.”

Oscar nods, taking a deep breath himself to steady his racing thoughts. He’s never had to explain this to anyone before, and now that he’s actually faced with the situation, he realizes just how insane it’s going to sound.

“Okay, so, uh …” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to start. “I know this is going to sound really weird, but … you remember the cat? The one you were worried about?”

Your brow furrows in confusion, and you nod slowly. “Yeah …”

“Well,” Oscar continues, his voice trailing off for a moment before he forces himself to say it. “That was me. I mean, I was the cat.”

You blink at him, clearly trying to process what he just said. “Wait. You’re saying … you’re the cat? Like, you were the cat?”

“Yeah,” Oscar says, wincing at how ridiculous it sounds out loud. “I’m, um, I’m a shifter. I can turn into a black cat. And I was the cat that you, uh, accidentally … kidnapped.”

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open as you try to wrap your head around this. “So, you’re telling me that the cat I’ve been feeding, the cat that I tried to take to the vet, was actually you? The whole time?”

Oscar nods sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I was just … curious, I guess. But then things got a little out of hand.”

You sit back on the bed, your mind clearly spinning as you try to reconcile the image of the cute, harmless black cat with the sight of Oscar Piastri — fully human and fully naked — in your bed. “This is … this is insane,” you say, shaking your head. “I mean, I believe you, I guess. But it’s just … wow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Oscar says, offering a small, awkward smile. “It’s a lot to take in. And I’m really sorry for scaring you like that. I didn’t mean to shift back. It usually doesn’t happen unless I want it to, but I guess I must’ve just … relaxed too much.”

You laugh, a short, incredulous sound. “Relaxed? You were relaxed enough to just shift back into a human? Wow, I must be really good company.”

Oscar chuckles nervously. “You have no idea.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both try to process everything. Then, you look back at him, your expression softening slightly. “So, you’re really … a shifter? Like, that’s a real thing?”

Oscar nods. “Yeah. I’ve been able to do it since I was a kid. It’s not something I talk about, obviously. It’s kind of a secret.”

“A big secret,” you say, your eyes wide. “I mean, it’s not every day you find out an F1 driver can turn into a cat.”

Oscar blushes at that, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that you’re taking this better than he expected. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something I advertise. And, uh, I’d really appreciate it if you could keep this between us.”

You nod quickly, your expression earnest. “Of course. I wouldn’t tell anyone. I mean, who would believe me, anyway?”

Oscar lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you. Seriously. This whole thing … it’s complicated, and I don’t want to make things harder for myself or anyone else.”

You smile, a hint of playfulness returning to your eyes. “Well, I guess I’m the last person who’d have room to judge. I did kind of … try to get you neutered.”

Oscar laughs, the tension in the room easing slightly. “Yeah, that was … a close call.”

You shake your head, still looking slightly overwhelmed but more at ease now. “I’m sorry for that, by the way. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says, smiling. “I’m just glad I got out of there before it was too late.”

There’s another pause, the awkwardness slowly fading into something more comfortable. You glance over at the clock on your nightstand, and then back at him, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“So,” you say, a teasing edge in your voice. “What’s the plan now? Are you just going to stay here or …”

Oscar’s eyes widen as he remembers his current state of undress. “Oh, uh, right. I should probably … get dressed. Do you have, like, a blanket or something?”

You laugh, your initial shock giving way to amusement. “Yeah, hold on.” You reach over to the chair by the bed, grabbing the throw blanket draped over it and tossing it to him. “Here. Cover up before I have to start charging you for the show.”

Oscar catches the blanket, wrapping it around himself as best as he can. “Thanks. Sorry about that. Not exactly how I planned on spending my morning.”

You smile, still shaking your head in disbelief. “This is definitely the weirdest morning of my life.”

“Same here,” Oscar admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, uh, now that we’ve got that out of the way … do you maybe want to grab breakfast or something? With no canned tuna this time.”

You raise an eyebrow, the playful spark back in your eyes. “Breakfast? With a shifter who accidentally ended up naked in my bed? Sounds like the start of a weird romcom.”

Oscar grins, his nerves finally settling. “Yeah, maybe. But, I mean, the offer still stands. We could … talk more. Or not talk at all. Just … eat?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a Ferrari girlie. But I guess I can make an exception this once.”

Oscar chuckles, his heart lightening at your teasing tone. “Well, I appreciate that. I’ll try not to hold it against you.”

You laugh, standing up and stretching, the tension finally draining from the room. “Okay, then. Breakfast it is. But you owe me a proper explanation over pancakes. I still have a lot of questions.”

“Deal,” Oscar says, standing as well, the blanket still wrapped around him. “And, uh, maybe I can borrow some clothes? Just until I get back to my place.”

You smirk, clearly amused by his predicament. “Sure. I think I have some sweatpants and a T-shirt that might fit you. They’re probably not papaya, though.”

Oscar laughs, feeling more at ease than he has in days. “That’s fine by me. I’m not picky.”

As you head off to find the clothes, Oscar takes a deep breath, letting the reality of the situation sink in. It’s definitely not how he expected this to go, but somehow, it feels right. Like maybe this bizarre turn of events was exactly what he needed.

And as he watches you rummage through your dresser, he can’t help but think that, for once, shifting back to his human form at the wrong time might have been the best mistake he’s ever made.

***

Oscar leaps onto the windowsill, his black fur sleek and gleaming in the afternoon light. He peers through the glass, watching you, seated at your desk, hunched over your textbooks. Your hair is pulled back, a pen held between your teeth as you jot down notes with a furrowed brow.

He feels a surge of affection watching you work so hard, but it’s mixed with a touch of mischief. He’s been patient all day, but now he’s had enough. It’s time for a study break, whether you want one or not.

With a graceful hop, he slips through the open window and lands silently on the floor. His tail flicks behind him as he pads softly toward you, his green eyes locked onto your focused expression. He almost feels guilty interrupting you — almost. But then again, it’s been hours since you last gave him any attention, and he’s starting to feel a bit neglected.

You don’t notice him at first, too engrossed in whatever academic puzzle you’re trying to solve. But Oscar is nothing if not persistent. He jumps onto your desk, landing squarely on your notebook, and lets out a soft, insistent meow.

Your head jerks up in surprise, your eyes widening as you take in the sight of him. “Oscar! You scared me!”

He purrs, rubbing his head against your arm, his way of saying, “Sorry, but you’ve been ignoring me.”

You sigh, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays your affection. “I’ve got a lot to do, you know. Finals are coming up.”

Oscar meows again, louder this time, before nudging your hand with his head. He can feel you wavering, your resolve crumbling as you reach out to scratch behind his ears. His purring deepens, vibrating through his small frame as he leans into your touch.

“You’re so spoiled,” you mutter, but there’s no real annoyance in your voice. “You know that, right?”

Oscar only purrs louder in response, nuzzling against your hand. He steps carefully onto your lap, circling once before settling down. You laugh softly, resigned, as you set your pen aside and lean back in your chair.

“Alright, alright. I guess I can take a break for a few minutes.”

He stretches out, making himself comfortable as you begin to pet him in earnest, your fingers trailing through his fur in long, slow strokes. It’s blissful, the way you touch him, the warmth of your hand against his back.

All thoughts of studying fade from your mind as you focus entirely on him, and Oscar relishes every second of it. This is what he’s wanted all day — to be close to you, to feel your affection without any distractions.

Minutes pass, and your strokes become slower, more languid. Oscar watches you through half-lidded eyes, sensing your fatigue. The stress of studying, of exams, is catching up with you, and he knows how much you’ve been pushing yourself lately. He nudges you with his head, encouraging you to relax even more, to let go of the tension that’s been building up.

You yawn, a deep, sleepy sound that makes him purr in satisfaction. “I think you’re a bad influence on me, Oscar,” you murmur, your voice drowsy. “I should be studying, but all I want to do is cuddle with you.”

Oscar’s purring doesn’t falter — if anything, it grows even more content. He watches as your eyelids grow heavier, your breathing slows, and your hand eventually stills against his fur. You’re falling asleep, lulled by the gentle rhythm of petting him and the comfort of his presence.

He stays perfectly still, letting you drift off completely. You deserve the rest, he thinks. You’ve been working so hard, and a little nap won’t hurt. Besides, he likes being the reason you’re able to relax like this, to forget about your worries for a while.

When he’s certain you’re fully asleep, Oscar carefully extracts himself from your lap, moving with the quiet grace of a cat. He pads over to the couch, glancing back to make sure you’re still sleeping soundly. Then, in one fluid motion, he shifts back into his human form.

Oscar sighs softly, standing by the couch for a moment as he stretches his arms over his head. It’s been a long day for him too — training, meetings, the usual demands of being a Formula 1 driver. But this is the part of his day he looks forward to the most: being with you, in this quiet, peaceful space that the two of you share.

He carefully lifts you from the chair, cradling you in his arms as he carries you to the couch. You stir slightly but don’t wake, your head resting against his chest as he settles you down on the cushions. Oscar smiles, brushing a strand of hair from your face before he stretches out beside you, pulling you close.

He wraps an arm around you, your body fitting perfectly against his. There’s something indescribably comforting about holding you like this, feeling your warmth seep into him as you sleep. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes as he allows himself to relax fully for the first time all day.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you, entwined on the couch. Oscar can hear your steady breathing, feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s moments like this that make everything worth it — the races, the pressure, the endless travel. None of it compares to this simple, quiet happiness.

As he holds you, Oscar’s thoughts drift. He thinks about how much his life has changed since that day you found him in your bed, how unexpected it all was. He hadn’t planned on letting anyone in, on sharing his secret with someone else. But you … you’ve become so much more than he ever anticipated.

You’re his confidant, his partner, his best friend. And though he’s still getting used to the idea, you’re also the person he’s fallen in love with, slowly and completely. It’s a realization that both scares and excites him, because he’s never had something — or someone — this important before. Racing has always been his focus, but now, you’re a part of his life that he can’t imagine being without.

As you sleep in his arms, Oscar tightens his hold on you, a protective instinct kicking in. He’ll do anything to keep you safe, to make sure you’re happy. And if that means taking any opportunity to spend more time with you, to be there for you when you need him, then that’s what he’ll do.

You murmur something in your sleep, your body shifting slightly against his. Oscar’s heart swells with affection, and he kisses your forehead again, a silent promise that he’ll always be here for you.

Outside, the sun begins to set, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The world keeps turning, the demands of life waiting just outside the door. But for now, in this moment, there’s nothing else that matters. Just you, and him, and the quiet contentment of being together.

Oscar closes his eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over him. There will be time for everything else later. For now, he’s exactly where he wants to be.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) chapter 5 progress

“Hey!” Duke hollered, as soon as Jason put the key in his door. “Welcome back, loser!”

Danny huffed out a laugh. 

“Hey yourself,” Jason called out, holding the door open and making sure Danny got in before he closed it behind them. “Scruffy little brother, this is Danny. Danny, this is Duke.” 

“Wait, what?” Duke skidded into the room on socked feet, eyes wide and mouth grinning in confused delight. “I didn't know you had any friends!” 

“Oh, we're not friends,” Danny reassured him easily, missing Jason's scowl. “Just dating. So there's still no proof that he has friends.” He winked obnoxiously. 

Jason could see the moment Duke shut down and rebooted twice as excited. 

Christ. He quietly cursed to himself and ducked his head to hide the burning in his cheeks as Danny bounced over to hold his hand out. He was never beating the allegations of favoritism after this, Jason sighed. 

Danny was a little sun spot when he chirped, “Nice to meet you, I hear you're the generous distributor of games?”

“Yeah, that request makes sooo much more sense now.” Duke met Danny's hand with a friendly slap and then went in for a hug. Jason cringed at the familiarity- but apparently it was the right move. Danny went for it, backslapping Duke amiably. They separated. Danny thoughtfully held Duke at a distance, hands on his shoulders. 

“I see. So, you're my true opponent?” At Duke's nod, Danny smiled with a few too many teeth. He leaned in to hold intense eye contact. “Gonna kick your ass,” Danny vowed. 

“You can try, old man,” Duke shot back. They separated with grins. “I’ll set up. Jason, your taste is so much better than I thought it would be.”

Jason made an offended noise. “Wait, what?” 

Duke gestured at him with one lazy hand as he unlatched the top of his backpack and started withdrawing games. “I figured you would exclusively date super serious tough types.”

“... I'm tough,” Danny said morosely.

Jason resisted the urge to cackle. He didn't disbelieve it at all! Size wasn't everything. But the uh, the big baby eyes and slumping shoulders really weren't selling the toughness.

Duke shrugged, brutal and unconcerned with the damage he was leaving in his wake. “I was thinking more like a forensic accountant who collects rocks and cage fights literally just for the fitness benefits.” 

Jason took a moment to consider that theoretical accountant. He would date that person. They sounded well rounded. It was a sensible career, a chill hobby, and a reasonably active lifestyle. What was wrong with that? He frowned to himself. What was Duke even implying??

“I would date that accountant,” Danny reluctantly admitted. He seemed disgruntled about it. “I don't cage fight, sorry to disappoint. You can't imagine how much my sister would kill me if I tried.” 

“It's fine,” Jason reassured, making a mental note of a sister and the potential for quantifiable subsequent deaths. “Me either.” 

He could, though. He thought about it for a moment. He'd kick so much ass. That would be a fun way to give Bruce a heart attack. 

Duke snorted, but thankfully said nothing else. Jason didn't want to hear what Duke thought about his odds in cage fighting. Jason knew what was in his heart and that it was fighting potential. 

The game Duke and Danny settled on was a multiplayer racing game. Jason dutifully tried. His car bounced along and beat out all but one of the computer's characters. He endured two rounds before he bowed out and leaned back to watch the other two trash talk each other. 

Honestly, these games were repetitive and pretty boring. Jason zoned out and stretched. He was laying his arm along the back of the couch before he realized that was a bad idea. 

He froze, forearm just barely brushing against the back of Danny's neck. Danny… didn't seem to care. 

Well. Jason let his arm relax. It was only weird if Danny thought it was weird. 

Duke glanced over out of the corner of his eye and gave Jason a cat-faced smirk. Jason raised his hand just enough to show off his favorite finger. 

“Hey, gimme a min?” Duke said. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Liar. Sneaking liar, Jason thought fondly. He was going to try to spy and see what they did when he left the room. 

Danny hit the pause button and let the controller drop to the sofa. “Yeah, go piss girl,” he drawled. 

Jason cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Duke just laughed, so that must have been some kind of reference. He clambered over the back of the sofa and gave Danny's shoulders a light push on his way past. 

Danny went with the motion and bumped into Jason with a giggle. Jason endured it patiently, bemused but enjoying that they were both happy. 

The bathroom door shut behind Duke. 

Danny leaned further into Jason and contorted his neck at a frankly precarious angle to look up at him. “Are you having fun?” He checked. Danny's ear brushed against Jason's chest in a way that he was hyper aware of. There was line of concern between his eyebrows that Jason kinda wanted to smooth away with a thumb.

[klausysworld]

Here's an idea if you are taking any suggestion!

Niklaus has turned due to the full moon and his wolf wants to run about and the wolf comes into the house and has sex with Klaus' girl (with knotting and everything). Klaus transforms back in his human form, still knotted to her though, and cares for his girl who has fallen into her little space! With all the daddy-ness if possible! ❤️

Daddy’s Wolf

Klaus didn’t have to turn.

However his wolf was adamant he would turn on a full moon. Thankfully so did the rest of the wolves in New Orleans.

There was one little wolf in particular that Klaus’s wolf had taken a fancy to. She was an untriggered werewolf but that didn’t matter. She lived out in the bayou but in a sweet little cottage that Klaus had payed for on her behalf. He had wanted her closer to the quater but she wanted to stay in nature, her wolf needed the calmness of the forest and if that’s what she wanted that that’s what he’d give her. Besides it meant that she was out of the way and safe. But it also meant that he didn’t visit her as often as he would like.

That didn’t sit well with his wolf at all.

So when the full moon came, it made sure to push forward. Klaus eventually gave in and turned, decided there was no harm in releasing some tension for the night.

And with that he found himself racing through the woods, only the desire for her present in his mind.

Paws thudded against the leaves causing a soft rustle sound to drift amongst the breeze. His tongue hung from his mouth in a gentle pant as he made his way between trees. He was momentarily distracted as a deer caught his eyes and his train of thought was cut off. He hunted the animal down instead, leaping over bushes and skidding round logs. Klaus could feel the thrill of the chase, the fulfilment of his predatory instincts taking what they wanted.

However just as he caught up with his prey, his ears perked. His movements came to a stop and the deer sprinted off. He could hear muffled chatter in the distance and followed it until he found the familiar pathway. His tail wagged immediately and he trotted up to Y/n’s cottage. The TV was visible from her window and he smiled inside.

Eagerly he called for her, his claws scraped at her doorway and his body tried to push it open. Eventually she came and opened it up, she was dressed up in her little clothes making his tail wag harder.

“Daddy?” She mumbled quietly “is that you?” She asked, peeking through the gap. He yipped in response and forced his way inside. His back paw kicked the door shut and he tugged at her sleeve gently. Y/n followed his pull without resistance and went back to the sofa with him to watch her show. His wolf snuggled up with her, licking her cheek gently. Y/n nuzzled against his chest and smiled “Hi Klaus” she whispered, caressing his fur.

The wolf’s tail beat against the cushions as she played with his fur and looked up at him with those big sweet eyes. Y/n leant up and kissed his fluffy cheek softly with a giggle. He let out a playful growl and licked her face back.

Y/n’s nose scrunched up and she wiped his kiss away making the wolf huff and lick her again, spreading his scent across her skin.

Klaus briefly felt his mind go blank, the animal in him taking over as he began to lap at her skin. His eyes went nearly black as the wolf took over and dragged its canines down her throat. Y/n let out a gasp and tried to push his face away but he wouldn’t budge. It was only when his teeth pieced her skin and she let out a whimper that Klaus’s vision came back and he realised that he’d bitten her.

When she noticed his ears fall flat and a soft whine to leave him she told him it was okay.

Sometimes his wolf got a little possessive but he never meant any harm. She pet his head gently and kissed his front legs and chest lightly. Klaus let out a happy trill and stood up, circling her a few time before laying down around her little body.

Y/n laid against him for a while, her eyes closed and she just listened to the TV in the background. Klaus’s chest moved up and down gently as he breathed, his eyes stayed on her pretty face.

Klaus’s wolf couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and joy as his girl snuggled against him. Without realising it, his wolf would take over every now and then, just nuzzling her hair and tightening his hold before Klaus could realise that he’d lost control. The only issue with it was that Klaus had much more control over his desires and his wolf didn’t.

Which was why when Klaus came to, he realised how his wolf was grinding against his sweet Y/n. Klaus quickly forced himself to stop and clenched his jaw as his hips threatened to buck against his will.

Y/n was deep into her little space and enjoying her daddy's affection and touches, she loved his wolfy very much and always wanted to snuggle and play. A few times in the past his wolf would lick her sweet pussy and she would suckle on his cock but he had never fully fucked her in this form. He teased that one day he would and little Y/n would giggle and start to get needy and whiny until her daddy would ravish her with promises of a rough and wild night in the future.

So when she felt his wolf rubbing against her, she arched into the touch. A whine left her when he stopped moving and her head went back to look at him.

"Daddy" She mewled, her lips all pouty making his wolf puff his chest out. His fur stood on edge and his muzzle pressed to the crook of her neck, sniffing her skin before letting his tongue out to taste it.

Before he could help it, his paws where digging into her sides and his wolf was borderline humping his sweet girl. Y/n giggled and crawled out from under him making a suppressed growl rumble in his chest.

Y/n tutted and pushed him onto his back making his tail wag and his head cock to the side. She climbed on top of him, snuggling into his chest and twisting his fur between her fingers.

Klaus considered just turning back and ravishing her right their on the couch but his wolf wouldn't let him. Klaus felt his consciousness fading in and out as his wolf bucked his hips up and Y/n squealed.

"Bad Daddy" She whispered as she brought her hand down to stroke his overly obvious erection. She smiled and rest her head on his chest whilst watching his cock leak in her hand.

Klaus swallowed down a howl as she shimmied around so she could sink down on his cock.

"Mmm Daddy" She mumbled as she pushed her hips back slowly, letting her pussy stretch around his thickness and accommodate his length. "So big" She uttered, her lashes fluttering and eyes locking with his.

Klaus's jaw hung open in a pant as he watched her push down on his chest and roll her hips. She moaned sweetly at the feel of him filling her so perfectly. Her body slide over his at a gradual pace, her hands gripping his fur while her ass bounced against his pelvis.

A series of embarrassing whines left Klaus's wolf as he felt her speed up, her breathing getting heavier and her pussy clenching all the time.

"Mmm love Daddy's wolfy" She moaned, tugging on his hairs and bouncing as fast as she could before stopping completely.

It made Klaus groan and throw his head back. His cock ached and throbbed inside her. He could feel her pussy pulsing so he didn't understand why she stopped. But he wasn't in much of a position to complain.

Y/n snuggled back against him, panting softly against his neck and closing her eyes in an attempt to conserve her energy. Little Y/n got tired especially fast, despite her poor pussy desperate for her to keep bouncing.

"I'm sorry Daddy" She whispered and Klaus's ears went back again. He didn't want her to be sorry. He licked the side of her face lovingly and wrapped his arms around her body. His paws folded over each other to fix his hold on her so that his hips may thrust up into her effectively.

She lifted her head back so that she could kiss his neck and behind his ear as he did all the work. Sounds tumbled from his mouth as his wolf took over again and bucked up roughly. Each movement was hard and unforgiving as her entire body jolted up and her legs spread wide over his lap.

He growled when he felt his cock swelling even more than usual. His wolf knew what it needed to do but he had to get her properly.

Y/n cried out when his cock slid out of her and he got up, stepping over her and circling her sore body until she pulled herself to the arm of the couch so that he could get behind her. Her teeth sunk down against her bottom lip when he mounted her, his paws grabbing onto her hips and his body towering over hers. Her eyes closed and she imagined what he would say to her if he were able to before he sheathed himself inside her.

Her body was pushed forward and against the sofa as he got a steady grip on her and his hips started. His wolf was ecstatic about his positioning as he panted and growled out his appreciation for her soft, tight body.

"Daddy" She moaned softly and he felt his cock swell. Her whines were muffled as she bit down on her lip. Her hands clung to the fabric of the chair whilst her back arched to feel him hit that spot inside her just right. "Please" She whimpered and he groaned, deeply. "Please breed me Daddy" Y/n begged and Klaus's wolf went haywire.

Her pussy was pounded relentlessly and his knot began to form fully. The base of his cock swelled, his animalistic needs urging him to shove it inside her. He needed her, he needed to fill her with his seed, his babies.

Both their bodies shook with ecstasy when they felt him lock inside her. Her hands clung to the couch, mouth panting and sweat dripping. She whined when she tried to move but he wouldn't or couldn't pull out.

He licked over her shoulder gently, soothing her senses until she was lost to sleep. Klaus wasn't expecting his wolf to give in and turn back whilst still inside her but he was glad to be in his original form.

Gentle kisses were pressed to the back of her neck whilst her tried and failed to get his cock out of her. He hadn't thought that his knot would stay in human form but it had. It wasn't much of an issue as he moved them both upstairs and managed to turn her around so she was facing him whilst he gently wiped her clean with the babywipes in his drawer.

She whined when she woke to his touch and he gently tried to ease her back to sleep.

"Daddy" She whimpered and he kissed her temple softly.

"Yes little one, I'm here." He whispered and she nuzzled into his chest. "You were such a good girl" He praised while stroking her hair. "Daddy and his wolf are so proud of you, I'm gonna take such good care of you"

"Me and our babies?" She muttered with a yawn and he groaned softly.

"Yes babygirl. You and all our babies."