#cement alternatives
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Unlocking the Future: Geopolymers Revolutionizing Construction
In an era where sustainability and innovation are paramount, the world of construction materials is witnessing a paradigm shift. Geopolymers, a class of materials that have been gaining traction in recent years, are emerging as a promising alternative to traditional cement-based products. With their potential to reduce carbon emissions, enhance durability, and provide versatile applications,âŠ
View On WordPress
#3d printing#Additive Manufacturing#alternative materials#cement alternatives#construction innovation#cost competitiveness#Durability#environmental impact#Geopolymer concrete#Geopolymers#high performance materials#industry standards#Infrastructure Rehabilitation#infrastructure resilience#low carbon footprint#Material Optimization#public awareness#soil stabilization#Sustainable Construction#sustainable supply chain#versatile applications#waste management
0 notes
Text
Love the idea of Kae painstakingly learning Hilichurian, at first bc he figured it was another skill under his belt then bc talking with them made him curious abt them and their origin
#hc; kaeya#//And then learning they used to be Khaenriâahn from Dain or the Traveller; or even some other source heckin CEMENTED it to him#//Talks to them in Hilichurl; tries to see if they can understand him in Khaenriâahn#//If they could; he would actually end up cryingâand anyone who knows him; knows THAT is genuinely Serious#//Would try to figure out alternate ways to handle hilichurls around Mond if he could; but itâs tough when everyoneâs so set in their ways#//Tries to relocate and tend to as many Hilichurl related commissions as he can to minimize any harm btw human and Hilichurl#//Is prolly another contributing factor why heâd fall in the Abyss verse#//Despairing over their situation then realizing there IS a way to help them; he would latch onto it in a heartbeat#//Perhaps still doubt and be wary; but make him for sure more open to working with the Abyss if only for a Solution#//Only to get Got and mildly mindbroken if he talks to the Sinner/keeps such frequent exposure to Abyss energy#//The latter esp; dude just damn near being driven mad like Clothar the more he harnesses and is entrenched in it#//idk thinking bc i thinks itâs so funny he went as far as to write Venti a threat in Hilichurl that one event lololol
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
idk, i just think that (to a point) Everyone's a product of the media they consume. that's why certain media is called 'formative', esp if you watched it young. one thing you watched/read couldâve lead to an interest which couldâve gotten you to learn/participate in/avoid something you wouldnât have otherwise. take away all the books youâve read, movies youâve watched, music you've listened to, etc etc- youâre likely a totally different person. which is neither good nor bad, that's just called being a person who lives on planet earth.
#if i went back in time to middle school and made it so twilight wasn't on hold and i finally read at the age of 11#pretty sure i could've become a twilight fan (opening a whole new branch of who i could turn out to be)#or how i was This Close to becoming a directioner (and i probably would've been a whole new person due to that)#or how i only got into doctor who because i was recommended hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy (my first real intro to scifi books)#and without that i probably wouldn't have stayed on tumblr (which i only made bc of my interest in animation (more media consumption lol))#bc it's the who in superwholock that cemented my desire to make an account#or if i hadn't thought the violin looked cool bc i saw it in a movie then i wouldn'tve joined orchestra in 6th grade#(and then discovered i hated orchestra so then i joined band. and then i was offered the choice of baritone or sax and i chose baritone)#and marching band (which i later joined) defined all 4 years of my high school#something that straight up would not have happened if i hadn't thought a violin player looked cool in a movie i saw as a kid#boom! butterfly effect!#so who am i without all these experiences bc of the media i consumed? idk. if they exist in an alternate timeline#without any of the things that make me Me#that's a stranger for all intents and purposes#rambles
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
The discord invite link has been taken off of the website and off of here. We do not feel like we have the mental capacity to properly moderate a group as large as that is, and want to at least stop the growth before getting completely overwhelmed.
#It's primarily from that fight from a few days ago.#Really has cemented in our head that we have alternate means of users talking to us#and maybe that's just better for our sanity
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
#tech demo - Cole's vc#This song always runs through my head as I'm playing the violent revolution in dbh#More importantly though check out how it sounds when Cole sings it#I keep picturing this scene where Cole is persuaded to sing in some public place where there are a bunch of unawakened androids#This song is already in his database so it takes almost no time for him to choose it and begin#He starts kind of low and quiet because he's nervous and really doesn't want to do this#But his voice steadily grows in volume and intensity as some androids stop what they're doing to listen#One by one they wake up and abandon their masters to gather round#They even begin to sing along as the chorus is repeated twice#By this point Cole's voice is BOOMING through the area for all to hear#The crowd claps and cheers at what seems like the end of the song#But then Cole does an encore with the alternate chorus#Firmly cementing a message of hope into the newly awakened#And that's where the vision ends#I just realized I could've put all of this in the actual post. Whoops.#Youtube
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something I didnât actually realize until I was making Hitaâs bracers in October (and probably is why theyâre my first hot-glue fueled project that stuck together) is that apparently for really sturdy hot glueâs, like gorilla brand stuff, there is actually certain heat settings youâre supposed to administer for it to stick correctly to different substances. Like fabric and foam required low heat only.
And it was the first time Iâd made armor with hot glue and had it actually bond, Iâd say almost permanently. I could rip it apart if I was really fucking trying, but itâs impossible to get apart unless youâre trying on purpose to break them.
#Iâm grateful because my eldest brother is a big crafty guy#like a . I print iron on vinyl in complicated shapes out of my cricket and glue them to coffee mugs to give you for Christmas#kinda crafty#and he gave me a high end hot glue gun for Christmas when I was 16 so I can wield those glues that require a specific temp#which. unfortunately usually work better#it sucks there isnât a cheap way to make hot glue behave like contact cement because itâs a good alternative#but yeah if you have heat settings on your glue gun#pay attention to what your glue says will work for what substance#Walt cosplays#cosplay tips I guess#I notice a lot of people just kinda fire up their hot glue gun with whatever glue poles they have laying around#to insane temperatures#because the cheaper ones donât have temp dials (I know I started with a cheap one)#and those insane temperatures might be great for like. bonding plastic or metal maybe#but leather and fabric and foam want the low low heat like. just melting the glue heat
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had a conversation with my chiropractor today about coyotes. It started with the North Shore, ravens, and wolves, but then switched to coyotes. (I was a wreck physically, and he was doing muscle work on my back, neck and shoulders before even trying to do adjustments, so we were chatting a bit). We were talking about how resilient they are, and how they can live in all sorts of environments, rural and urban.
Then the chiropractor, who is a trans man, went, "Huh. Maybe I should start using coyotes to help explain how trans people can be found anywhere and how we're resilient against a lot of hate and tries to exterminate us."
I totally agreed with him.
#ignore me#or not#cuz I think coyotes are cool#and trans folks are cool#I also know chiropractors are a bit sus in terms of alternative medicines#but this chiro does do muscle work /targeted deep tissue massage before adjusting so it is probably more than the adjustments that do good#he also gets me a discount on custom orthotics for my shoes which do help a lot with working on cement floors all day#anyway#go read Coyote America and learn and appreciate coyotes
0 notes
Photo
Tigers Jaw, Stereo, Glasgow
April 11th 2018
by Keir OâDonnell
1 note
·
View note
Text
last year i started trying to write an article where i documented every reported instance of psych abuse that happened in 2023 that i could find and had to stop halfway through because it was so fucking horrific. and that was only the shit that had been reported, that i could find in databases and in local news articles. the numbers and stories of psych abuse were staggering and what was worse is that i knew it was only a fraction of the actual abuse that happened that year, and that the actual number was so much worse. And even in just that fraction of news articles, in the half the states I searched for: there were dozens of deaths. Over a hundred different reported instances of rape. Over 300 different reported instances of illegal use of restraint and seclusion.
And i just keep thinking, over and over again, about how that is just a fraction of the reality. It is almost impossible to report psych abuse as it's happening when you're locked up in a psych facility where you don't have independent access to a phone, you can get cut off from your friends and family, and your access to a "grievance and reporting process" depends entirely on the same people who are abusing you. Even after you get out, there are so many barriers. It is very, very difficult to get anyone to believe you as a credible witness once you get certain things written in your chart. Psych staff can point to your diagnoses, their documentation, and say a million fucking things to get away with abuse.
and sometimes it feels like no one gives a shit besides other psych survivors, other mad/mentally ill/neurodivergent/disabled people. this is the same shit that happened in asylums, that happened in the "reformed" institutions of the 50s, that happened in group homes, that happens in psych wards, that happens in residential treatment. it hasn't fucked changed--it's just gotten new names, hiding behind the labels of "evidence based care" and "least restrictive alternative." when i really start to think about it, i get so fucking angry and full of grief for everyone i love who is still fucking locked up in these places. it just cements my determination to never shut up about this because we need to look out for each other and take care of each other, and i do not take my freedom to even be out here and advocating for granted.
#personal#psych abolition#antipsych#survivingpsych#mad liberation#psych abuse tw#this shit makes me so mad.#and forever and always what is at the core of that rage is so much fucking love for so many people who deserve#much better. than to be discarded to a cruel system
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Ë°đ·ïž àŁȘđ€ đđŒđ·đ¶'đ đłđźđđŒđđżđ¶đđČ đ»đźđ»đ»đ Ë°đ·ïžđ€
: ÌÌâ tropes: fem! reader đ„ minors do not interact đ„ unprotected sex đ„ single dad x nanny đ„ porn with plot đ„ banter đ„ alternate universe đ„ praise đ„ shower sex đ„ bj đ„ certified pussy eater đ„ daddy issues đ„ dirty talking đ„ small pillow talk đ„ nsfw đ„ smut
: ÌÌâ words: 2.7k
: ÌÌâ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, donât hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, commentâwhatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
âAfter the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.â
With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.
The jingle of keys echoed through the air.Â
Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. âHe asleep?â
âThe dragon story always knocks him out cold.â You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. âLong day?âÂ
âToo fucking long.â He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. âOne of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.âÂ
âOh, Iâm sorry, Mr. Zenin.â Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. âWith tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.â
Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. âAlways appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.âÂ
âHey, babysitting is my job.â
He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. âMy paycheck isnât gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? Iâll double it to make up for it.âÂ
âNah, youâre good. I can wait. Megumiâs my favourite little client.â You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. âJesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.âÂ
âCut me some slack, kid.âÂ
âIâm twenty-two. Not a kid.âÂ
âIf youâre younger than meââhe jabbed his fork in your directionââyouâre still a kid. Capiche?âÂ
âEating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,â you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. âWell, Iâll see you Monday evening, then.âÂ
âLeaving so soon?âÂ
You quirked a brow and raised your phone. âItâs ten in the evening.âÂ
âThatâs early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?âÂ
Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldnât be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.
âDonât say I didnât warn you.â You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.  Â
âYour feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,â he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow.Â
âThanks,â you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. âWhat?âÂ
âYou always had a mole there?â He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin.Â
âIâm offended that youâve just noticed now.âÂ
He finished chewing. âYou donât tie your hair up often.âÂ
âWould you like me to?â You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.
âI like your hair down,â he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. âBut maybe not while weâre eating. Donât want them getting dirty.âÂ
You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.
âOh for fuckâs sake,â Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. âEver thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?âÂ
âNo, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.âÂ
Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. âWho?âÂ
âJust a boy from my class,â you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. âHeâs cute, sure. Plus, heâs a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.â
Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. âIf thatâs what youâre into.â
âYou say it like youâre an expert on my taste.â
âIâve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone whoâd go for a poster boy.âÂ
âThen who do you think Iâd go for?â you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. âSince you seem to have me all figured out.â
Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. âMaybe I havenât gotten to know you well enough.â He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth.Â
With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.
As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Tojiâs pulse quickened. âIâm an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.â You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. âHave a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.âÂ
Tojiâs gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.
Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled.Â
âHeâs made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,â you whispered. âUnless you donât want me sharing pasta with him like itâs a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.âÂ
âGod, that fucking mouth of yours.â A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Tojiâs grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours.Â
He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.
Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. âI smelled like shit, yeah?âÂ
You shrugged. âCement, but close enough.âÂ
âSince you know it all, youâre gonna help me clean it off.â He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. Youâd waited a whole year for this.Â
Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.
âYou good?â he whispered, palming the side of your head.Â
âSo good.â You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.
Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.
The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look.Â
âYouâre fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,â Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stallâs glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. âYou've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?âÂ
âI happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.âÂ
âBaby, theyâre ugly.âÂ
You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick.Â
He stopped immediately.Â
âWhatâs wrong, Mr. Zenin?â Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. âCat got your cock?â He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. âFuck my throat until I canât speak for a week.âÂ
Toji snapped.Â
He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. âHoly fuck, baby. Youâre so good at taking my cock.â Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. âFucking look at me, you little slut.â He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth.Â
You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up.Â
Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. âWas I too hard on you, doll?âÂ
You nodded but raised a thumbs up. âFantastic.â Probably the best blow-job youâve ever givenâeven if Toji was mostly in control.Â
His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. âTurn around. Itâs my turn to eat.âÂ
Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. âJesus. Youâre so fucking tight. No oneâs been in this pussy before, baby?âÂ
âA few,â you said. âBut they were smaller.âÂ
Toji curled his fingers inside of you. âA dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Donât you, doll?â You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. âTell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cockâs size?âÂ
âY-Yesâah.â You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. âFuck, Tojiâoh, fuck. Faster.â He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry.Â
âShut the fuck up,â he hissed in your ear. âCan you do that for me, doll?â You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. âMy pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.â He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole.Â
You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you werenât gonna complain. Youâve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood.Â
âMy dickâs gonna break off if I donât put it in now.â He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. âReady, doll?âÂ
âFuck me, Toji. Please.âÂ
He could get off on your begging alone.Â
His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove inârepeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasnât going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldnât sit down for days.Â
Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldnât leave him for weeks. Months. Years. Youâd be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage.Â
Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating yourâhisâpussy.Â
âIâm gonna come inside you,â he breathed out over your swollen lips.Â
âDo it.âÂ
Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations.Â
 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another.Â
Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked.Â
The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed.Â
Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night.Â
âSpend the weekend with me,â he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. âWeâll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.âÂ
âYeah?â You pecked his nose. âWeâll look like a little family.âÂ
âThat little shit already considers you his mother.âÂ
You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. âMaybe another time. Collegeâs been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.âÂ
Toji found himself desolated. âCanât you just study here?âÂ
âNot with two babies whining and crying for my attention.âÂ
He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately.Â
âBut I can come over in the evening,â you said. âWe can go out for ice-cream.â
He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. âIce-cream it is.âÂ
You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. âGoodnight, Mr. Zenin.âÂ
âGoodnight, doll.â He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night.Â
Toji smiled.Â
#zaraswriting#jjk x y/n#toji smut#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jjk toji x reader#jjk toji smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw smut#tw sex mention#fem reader#jjk fluff#toji fluff#jujutsu toji#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A sustainable alternative to Portland cement for corrosive applications?
Cyrill Grengg is head of the CD lab at TU Graz, Austria (image credit: Lunghammer â TU Graz) Sustainably produced concrete mixtures from mineral residues and waste materials could partially replace Portland cement-based concrete in the future, especially in application environments prone to corrosion such as sewage systems, biowaste plants or tunnel drainage systems. Cyrill Grengg from theâŠ
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
Instead of burning fossil fuels to reach the temperatures needed to smelt steel and cook cement, scientists in Switzerland want to use heat from the sun. The proof-of-concept study uses synthetic quartz to trap solar energy at temperatures over 1,000°C (1,832°F), demonstrating the methodâs potential role in providing clean energy for carbon-intensive industries. A paper on the research was published on May 15 in the journal Device.[...]
Glass, steel, cement, and ceramics are at the very heart of modern civilization, essential for building everything from car engines to skyscrapers. However, manufacturing these materials demands temperatures over 1,000°C and relies heavily on burning fossil fuels for heat. These industries account for about 25% of global energy consumption. Researchers have explored a clean-energy alternative using solar receivers, which concentrate and build heat with thousands of sun-tracking mirrors. However, this technology has difficulties transferring solar energy efficiently above 1,000°C.
To boost the efficiency of solar receivers, Casati turned to semitransparent materials such as quartz, which can trap sunlightâa phenomenon called the thermal-trap effect. The team crafted a thermal-trapping device by attaching a synthetic quartz rod to an opaque silicon disk as an energy absorber. When they exposed the device to an energy flux equivalent to the light coming from 136 suns, the absorber plate reached 1,050°C (1,922°F), whereas the other end of the quartz rod remained at 600°C (1,112°F).
âPrevious research has only managed to demonstrate the thermal-trap effect up to 170°C (338°F),â says Casati. âOur research showed that solar thermal trapping works not just at low temperatures, but well above 1,000°C. This is crucial to show its potential for real-world industrial applications.â
Using a heat transfer model, the team also simulated the quartzâs thermal-trapping efficiency under different conditions. The model showed that thermal trapping achieves the target temperature at lower concentrations with the same performance, or at higher thermal efficiency for equal concentration. For example, a state-of-the-art (unshielded) receiver has an efficiency of 40% at 1,200°C, with a concentration of 500 suns. The receiver shielded with 300 mm of quartz achieves 70% efficiency at the same temperature and concentration. The unshielded receiver requires at least 1,000 suns of concentration for comparable performance.
17 May 24
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)
Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.
âAlex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?â
âWell firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training weâve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.â Logan replies.
It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat.Â
Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Loganâs demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. âYeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.â
âYou both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.â Dammit, this interviewer really wasnât going to let it go, Alex thought.
âUm yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.â Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didnât exactly ask a question.
âI was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.â God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.
âWell Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New Yorkâ Alex teased.
âOhhh, where did you go Logan?â the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Loganâs face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.
âWell actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasnât too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isnât with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.â
âHey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been aloneâ Alex said, offended.
âMate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.â Logan responded.
âBut I still would have kept you company.âÂ
Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked âGirlfriend?â
The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasnât looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.
âUh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.â Logan answered, still blushing.
âLeave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.â Alex teased.
âHey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while Iâm from Florida, they are practically two different countries.â
âYeah whatever.â Alex rolled his eyes playfully.
The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.
The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.
logansargeant
liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others
logansargeant My favorite New Yorker đ
#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#logan sargeant x reader#ls2 x reader#ls2 imagine#alex albon x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
luke x older reader anon again! congrats on 1k! submitting the same request, with hearts and prompt 25 đ«¶đ»
warnings: unprotected p in v, age gap (not major.), religious themes & motifs, pining, childhood friends to lovers vibes, best friend's brother ofc, jealousy, occasionally insecure statements from luke, really just the sweetest sex you can imagine. i LOVED writing this. hence... the length.
WC: 4,351
Youâve been friends with the Hughes boys as long as you can remember. The first time you met Quinn, it was during your first pee-wee skate.Â
Your dad was a big hockey fan, so he wanted to teach you how to skate. The debate had been between figure skating and hockeyâ your mom loved gymnastics, dance, and figure skating, having been an artistic athlete herself. Your dad wanted you to skate regardless, but hockey felt more suited for your talents. You were a competitive childâ and territorial over your toysâ so your dad thought it would translate well into a hockey environment.Â
He took you to the Olympics in Salt Lake when you were three years old. You went to see figure skating and two of the United States hockey gamesâ one for the men and one for the women. To your dad, it wasnât a surprise how your eyes grew into saucers when you watched your first live hockey game.
Heâd enrolled you in peewee skate the following week. There were no girls-only leagues, so you were put into a coed league. Quinn was in the same league. You became very fast friendsâ you liked to talk, your new little buddy liked to listen, and then you finally got him out of his shell midway through the season and your friendship was fully cemented. Actually, the second you learned his last name was Hughesâ like Sarah Hughes, who won the Olympic Gold in singleâs figure skating when you were in Utahâ he was stuck with you. Just because youâd preferred hockey didnât mean you didnât love ice skating, too. It just wasnât your passion.
You and Quinn stayed in touch after that peewee hockey season, enrolling in the same league and requesting to be on the same team until you both graduated into the boys- and girls-only leagues. You still remained friends, staying in contact as best you could when he moved to Toronto. Youâd send letters back and forth and you became a pro at interpreting Quinnâs boyishly terrible handwriting. Heâd tell you about his brothers, his parents, his school, and his hockey teams. Youâd keep him updated on home, but then it stopped being home to Quinn. Soon enough, you were only talking about hockey and family. âDid you see that Crosby won the Hart Trophy?â âYeah! Ovi got the Calder though, so weâre still on even playing field. Canadian boy.â âHey, Ovi is Russian. Choose a real American and get back to me.â
It wasnât long until you secured an invitation to visit the Hughes during the summer. You and your family went up to Toronto to visit them and you got to play with the Hughes boys for a whole week. It was so much fun, so the next summer, you begged to invite them to your place for a week.
The tradition continued for years, alternating houses and hometowns. You and Quinn both applied to Michiganâ he played hockey, you did not. You were a good player, but youâre more of a beer league girl. You werenât recruited to play college hockeyâ which, for a while, you thought was weird, because there are so few female hockey players in America. Youâre hoping that your lack of recruitment means that there are hundreds of amazing women who are better than you at the sport, and that helped you accept your fate. After all, Quinn would sometimes bring you to the rink when it was empty. Youïżœïżœd get to play for a little whileâ and it was nice, in college, to have someone who knew you so well.
A lot of people assumed that you and Quinn were together, but that couldnât be further from the truth. Quinn was like your brother. There was that weird month when you were thirteen and youâd gone to visit him over the summer and youâd thought, maybe⊠but it turned out that you were just thirteen and confused because of your rampant hormones and puberty. Quinn is just your friend, your best friend.Â
All of the brothers were pretty off-limits. Youâd seen the way girls had started flirting with Jack as heâd entered his teens. Youâre able to admit that heâs a cute boy. Luke was an absolute sweetheart, always trying to play with Quinn (and, by extension, you) as youâd grown up. You felt so fond of Luke in a âlook at how precious he is, I need to protect himâ sort of way.
And then, last night at the lake house, heâd helped you line up a shot in pool and kept his hand on the small of your back when you bent over the table, and your mind had been spinning ever since.Â
You canât tell Quinn, obviously. Thatâs his baby brother. Youâre not even sure how you feel about itâ Lukeâs always been your little buddy. Now, heâs over half a foot taller than you, so heâs not so little anymore. Stillâ heâs four years younger than you and Quinn. Itâs the equivalent of a freshman hooking up with a senior and you feel icky.Â
Regardless, you canât keep your eyes off of him. He likes to twirl his fork between his fingers when heâs done eating dinner. Heâll spread his legs and sit forward when heâs playing video games with his brothers. An absent-minded, crooked smile falls on his mouth every time heâs only half-listening to you or the other boys. Itâs paired with a look in his eyes that you can only describe as warm and content. In twenty-four hours, youâve noticed more things about Luke than youâve ever seen before.Â
Heâs grown up. Itâs still a little weird to you, but heâs 21. Youâre still 24, even though your 25th birthday is slowly creeping forward. You find yourself justifying the three year age gap, persuading yourself that itâs fine to look at Luke like that, but then you catch yourself and look away. Youâre pushing the idea out of your brain.
But heâs goofy, and cute, and so sweet. Heâs the same Luke as always, but youâre seeing him in a brand new way.
Youâre able to keep yourself at bay for over a week. The boys throw a party and invite some girls over. Normally, youâre not jealous. Youâre calm. You donât care.Â
Across the room, thereâs a girl flirting with Luke. Sheâs got a hand on his arm and youâre nursing a drink, seeing red. Youâre using Jack as a shield, but youâre still able to look over his shoulder. You think youâre being slick, but it turns out⊠youâre not.
âWhat are you looking at?â Jack laughs, tilting his head at you exaggeratedly before turning.
Unfortunately, you know youâve been found out. Thereâs only one thing that would have you glowering in such a way. Nothing else in sight is nearly as interesting as Luke and the girl beside him. Jack clocks it right away.
He turns back to you with a tight, knowing smile, like heâs trying to hold back laughter. He pushes his tongue into his cheek and quirks his eyebrows at you.Â
âInteresting,â Jack says, swirling his drink in his solo cup and then bringing the rim to his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he sips.Â
You pop the bottom of the cup, making the drink splash into Jackâs face. âFuck off.â
He wipes his mouth and crosses his arms, cradling the drink in the pocket of his elbow. âYou and little Lukey?â
You grind your teeth and glare at him in the most menacing way you can. Jack has known you for too long to be intimidated by your glares. He also never really cared that much in the first placeâ heâs too shit-eating to be concerned about the repercussions of his words.
Jack smirks some more. âDonât worry,â he says, popping his jaw like heâs turning a piece of gum over in his mouth. âYour secret is safe with me.â
You clench your teeth and continue glaring. You suck your cheeks in and bite down on the inside of your mouth, lips curling with annoyance.Â
âYou know, he wouldnât mind if you went over there and staked your claim,â Jack says with a one-shouldered shrug. âI donât think heâd be upset at all.â
âFuck off,â you repeat again.Â
âCâmon, Y/N.â Jack pushes your shoulder lightly, jokingly. âYouâre being obvious.â
âQuinnâll kill me. Andâ itâs Luke, Jack.â
âSo what? Itâs not weird. We all grew up together. Weâre all around the same age. Itâs not a big deal. Heâs had a crush on you forever.â
âItâs different,â you sing-song. âHeâs younger than me.â
âLetâs go, Cougar,â Jack teases, reaching up to high-five you.Â
You donât take it, instead deciding to punch his stomach.Â
Jack doubles over like you actually wounded him, but straightens up smiling. âYou oughta go make him jealous.â
âYouâre pissing me off.â
âDude, Iâm serious. Letâs go flirt with Trevor or something. Someone who Luke thinks youâre better thanâ I guarantee heâll be over here in a second.â
Jack actually tugs you toward Trevor and explains the plan before you can even get a word in. So much for keeping your secret. Trevor, to his credit, is a very willing subject. He keeps a hand on your waist during the whole conversation and you do your best to ignore the niggling desire to look over your shoulder at Luke.Â
Turns out, you shouldâve been worried about Quinn.
âGet your hands off her, Zegras,â Quinn snaps, pushing Trevorâs hand off of your waist and stepping between you. âYouâre not allowed to fuck my friend.â
If thatâs how he feels about one of his friends touching you, then you feel a bit faint at the idea of Quinnâs reaction to Luke getting together with you. That might seal the dealâ you really canât fuck Luke.
âIâm not fucking her,â Trevor says. âWeâre working an angle here, Quinn.â
Quinn scoffs. âYeah? What angle is that, Trevor?â
âWeâre trying to make Luke jealous, hello?â Trevor says like itâs obvious.Â
âOh my God,â you groan, covering your face in your hands. âTrevor, you fucking moron.â
âWhat?â Quinn demands, but his look turns into sheer bewilderment. âYouâre doing this for Luke?â
âIâm going to bed,â you announce, stomping away.Â
Trevor, somehow, is free to follow after you. Quinn hasnât stepped in to stop him. You wish he would. Heâs probably too confused. âThis is good,â he says. âHeâs definitely going to see us going upstairs together. Hold my hand.â
âNo.â
âDude, it was working. Luke was looking over at us the whole time.â
âI donât care, Trevor.â
âDonât you want him?â
âNot like that,â you hiss between your teeth. âI donât want to make Luke jealous. I want him to come to me because he wants to, okay? Go downstairs. I donât want to be with you right now.â
Trevor holds up his hands in surrender. âAlright. Iâll go. Goodnight.â
âGoodnight.â
You disappear into your bedroom, changing into pajamas and climbing into bed. Itâs nice to have your own bedroom in the lake house that Jack and Quinn bought with their NHL salaries, but tonight itâs bittersweet to be able to hear the party going on as you lay in bed. Itâs not at all like when you fall asleep during a holiday party and your parents put you to bed, and you can still hear the laughter of the guests in your dreams. Now each bout of laughter reminds you of her, the girl whose hand was on Luke like she already owned him, and you wonder if heâs making her giggle with his stupid corny jokes.
God, last week you didnât even like Luke. Now youâre burning with jealousyâ or maybe itâs the fires from Hell, because youâve got a completely inappropriate crush on your best friendâs little brother. You can never come back to the lake house like this, at least not until youâve gotten over this shit. Why are you so affected? Itâs Luke, for fuckâs sake.
Itâs Luke again when someone comes knocking at your door. You thought it would be Quinn, ready to chew you out or question you extensively about this crush. To your surprise, the problem himself appears.Â
âYou okay?â Luke asks, hovering awkwardly in the doorway. His silhouette is burly and big and you have to close your eyes to shake the pang of emotion that penetrates your chest.
âJust tired,â you reply quietly. âCouldnât stomach the party anymore.â
âDid Trevor say something to upset you?â
Quieter: âNo, Luke.â
He hovers silently. You can hear the cogs in his brain turning. His pitch matches yours when he speaks next, although his tone is much more melancholic than despondent. âAre you mad at me?â
You hesitate for a second too long. Youâre not mad, but youâre certainly taken aback by the uncertainty in his words. âNo, Luke,â you say again, but this time the pang that goes through your chest is more familiar. You donât want to upset him. Youâve always wanted to protect Luke from the world, but now youâve made him unsure and insecure. âIâm sorry.â
âWhy?â Luke asks, and you have to take a shaky breath. He sounds so small. Itâs like the time that you didnât let him ride bikes with you and Quinn to the store, even though he begged, and then he cried and ran to his mom. After seeing Lukeâs puffy red eyes and resolute determination to ignore you for the rest of the night, your soda and candy bar didnât taste as good. In fact, they tasted a bit like cardboard. You ended up throwing half of the bar away and going home early. You swore youâd never make sweet little Luke feel that way again.
âYou wouldnât get it, I donât think,â you tell him quietly, pushing yourself up in bed and resting on your elbows. You take a deep breath and look at him, sure that he can see the way your chest rises and falls.Â
Your eyes have adjusted enough that you can see the way Lukeâs mouth opens, as if to say something, then closes with a shake of his head. You notice his eyes fluttering towards the corner of your room, removing you from his line of vision. âOkay. You donât have to tell me,â Luke says, biting his lower lip in a dejected and heartbreaking way. âI get it. Iâll go.â
âLuke,â you sigh. âDonât be like that.â
âNo, itâs fine. You donât wanna talk to me,â he says with a shrug. âWeâre not friends like that. Iâm not Quinn.â
âLuke.â You push yourself up further, pushing the covers down and criss-crossing your legs. âItâs not that.â
âItâs always that. And if itâs not that, then itâs that Iâm not Jack. I justâ I donât want to hear that from you.â Luke shrugs again, always defaulting to that motion when heâs deflecting because heâs big and awkward and he doesnât know what to do with his hands. As if heâs thinking the same thing, you watch him shove his fists in his pockets and keep his shoulders tense.
âCome here,â you request, head tilted and mouth turned down with sadness. You shift your position so that both of your knees are under you and youâre sitting back on your heels. âLuke, please.â
You hold your arms out for a hug, not for the first time in your life, and Luke shuffles over. He takes his time and he refuses to meet your eyes, just stooping down so that he can wrap his arms around your middle. Itâs a weird position, given that youâre kneeling on the bed and heâs half-bent over. You can feel the pout and doubt all over Lukeâs face, so you reach a hand up to his curls and run your thumb over one of his more perfect spirals. Heâs letting it grow out a bit and you like how messy it looks.
âJack told me something,â you reveal softly, still petting through his hair. Luke stiffens in your arms, but doesnât pull away. âHe said you like me.â
Luke groans and struggles in your grip, even sinking to his knees to try and get out of your grasp. Heâs kneeling beside the bed, and you bring your legs around so that heâs situated between them. You keep a hand on his shoulder, the other still playing with his hair. Heâs evading your eyes again, looking stoutly at the floor.
âI have feelings for you, too,â you whisper, the admission feeling heavy and wrong and like a knife to the gut. Admittance is the first step, but you just feel silly. âAnd I donât really know how to deal with those. Youâreâ Iâve known you since we were so little, Luke.â
âThat doesnât matter,â Luke says bluntly, a hint of a complaint in his sentence. âYouâve been acting weird because you like me, too?â
âI was upset that there was a pretty girl talking to you,â you say sheepishly. âAnd I just didnât want to go along with Jackâs plan. He wanted to make you jealous. Thought that would work.â
âIâm always jealous when you talk to another guy,â Luke tells you like itâs obvious. âI just, kind of, gave up. I didnât think youâd ever feel that way about me. I thought Iâd get over it. Stupid childhood crush, you know.â
âYeah,â you agree, understanding that you yourself just experienced a similar line of thinking. You said youâd get over it, but you donât really want to. Not right now, at least, when Lukeâs sitting in front of you and heâs got a tentative hand on your calf, rubbing his thumb over the muscle and staring up at you with big eyes. You bite your lip, trying to think logically about this, but all you can do is examine Lukeâs features like youâll never get to see them again. Maybe you wonâtâ not like this. Not in this liminal space between something and nothing. This is one of those moments that you know wonât lastâ because the next one will change everything. So, for a moment longer, you just reach out and run your thumb along Lukeâs cheekbone, eyes flickering between his cheek, his lips, and his eyes.Â
âWhat do weââ Luke loses his words and presses his lips together, looking up at you, expression completely tortured. He turns his head and kisses the side of your knee, which makes your heart split a bit more.
âI donât know,â you admit. You wish you had a better answer for him. You truly arenât sure what you can do from here. There are too many things to considerâ so you wonât consider them at all.
âCan I sleep with you tonight?â Luke asks.Â
A fond burst of laughter escapes from your chest. âLukey, this is a twin bed. We canât both fit.â
A pout comes over Lukeâs face again. âWe can too,â he insists, furrowing his brow a bit. âIâll prove it. Move over.â
Heâs climbing into your bed before you can tell him no. His long and spindly limbs are coaxing you to lay back, then warming you as he holds you tight. Itâs a tight squeeze, but that just means that youâre touching him everywhere. Itâs nice and you suddenly wish you were facing him, so you roll awkwardly in his arms until youâre face to face. Your noses are nearly touching and Luke is staring at you, really taking you in.Â
Your eyes find his lips⊠and then heâs leaning in.
Itâs charged with tension and electricity, but itâs soft and hesitant. Neither of you want to test the boundaries and you donât think this feels quite real. Your stomach is swooping with bats, not butterflies, and itâs exactly what you wanted. This is what you expected when you found yourself imagining kissing Luke this past week, even if you shook yourself out of it because it felt inappropriate. Here, it feels so right that you swear you could start crying from relief. Youâve never felt that way before from just a kiss. Your chest could burst.
When he pulls away, you feel frozen in time. Your eyes are closed and his lips are right there, a hairâs breadth away. You swallow, touching his chest, palm flat.Â
âWas that okay?â Luke asks.
You nod, then slide your lips over his again.Â
You come together in a way that canât be described as anything other than desperate. Your hands touch him in any way they can and Lukeâs do the same. You move in tandem like youâve got a language of your ownâ an indignant hum from you followed by a sweet âI knowâ from Luke before he touches you exactly the way you want.
Kissing the whole time, Luke gets you on your back. Your lips only part to remove your shirt, then his. Lukeâs big hand cradles your jaw and neck, keeping your head and mouth exactly where he wants them. He guides you with a surprising amount of experience and sureness, although maybe heâs fueled by the same feeling of rightness as you are.
He opens you on his other hand, snaking his hand into your pajamas shorts because he canât be bothered to remove them. His hips roll against your thigh, his long torso displacing your pelvis from his as he kisses you. Heâs bigâ you knew it height-wise, but now you can feel him against your leg, and you want him to fill you. You want him to claim you, to take youâ you want to give all of yourself to Luke. Itâs madness and though youâre sure youâve lost your mind, the crack in your chest that pours out love for Luke has taken control of your body.
After three fingers and a lot of whimpering from you, clutches at Lukeâs hair and bruising kisses working in tandem with your noises, Luke works your shorts down. He breaks from your lips so that he can take you in beneath him. He touches your waist and the curve of your stomach, the one that you cringed at for so many years as a teen but finally accepted in your grown age.Â
âYouâre so beautiful,â he says reverently, eyes portraying nothing but sincerity.
You canât say anything to that, nothing that can match his utterly genuine sentiment or portray how grateful you are that he took the time to say those words, so you kiss him again. You muster up an embarrassingly wanton âplease,â which you draw across his lips like a paintbrush.Â
You canât get enough of saying his name as he presses into you, his heavy body blanketing yours. You can feel his every muscle move as he works into you and youâve never felt more like a masterpiece. There were times when you made fun of the phrase âmaking love,â but sex with Luke feels intensely like youâre creating something tangible by coming together in this way.Â
The moans and cries that youâre trying to stifle so that no one comes barging in should be enough to convince Luke that this is everything to you. Sweet, sweet Lukeâ he seems choked up when he says, âThey canât fuck you like I can.â He says the sentence like he has to prove it to you, like youâre not falling apart under his touch. He pleads with you between the words, in the spaces where you can see his breath hitch in his throat.
Youâre still not sure where this night will leave you tomorrow morning. Everything, everything has turned on its head. Somehow, you feel a bit like youâve been leading up to this for a while, not just in the past week. Luke knew it before you did.
âNo,â you agree, touching his cheeks and keeping his eyes on yours. âThey canât.â You kiss him briefly, feeling his tongue swipe into your mouth before you pull away. âIâm yours.â
Luke actually keens at that, his arms straining as he shifts his weight to fuck into you harder. Because youâre so close, the bed isnât moving enough to bang against the walls or creak on its boxsprings, and youâre glad. This is a moment for just you and Lukeâ you donât want anyone hearing. You donât want anyone to be around. You hope that theyâve all miraculously disappeared and you and Luke are the last people in the house, maybe even on Earth.
âIâm yours, Iâm yours,â Luke repeats, his forehead meeting yours. You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale, his breath automatically syncing with yours. Youâre overwhelmed, but deep in the back of your mind, thereâs a voice reminding you about an ancient tradition in Polynesian culture where forehead-to-forehead contact and breathing together is sacred, like youâre sharing the breath of lifeâ like thereâs some power in the universe, a god or many, clicking things into place.
He unravels first, fucking you through his release with urgence akin to the sentence he said before. Always trying to prove himselfâ but Luke has always been enough for you. Maybe not always in this way, but now, thereâs nothing he can do to shake your favor. All of the feelings in your heart have been poured out, shared and mixed with his own, and itâs created a puddleâ or a bubbleâ around the pair of you.Â
Itâs been written that sex is when two people come together as one. You finally understand what they mean, joining Luke in the seas of ecstasy.
Sweet nothings and touches like worship follow. Your hands canât get enough of Lukeâs strong figure. He runs his fingertips along your body like heâs in awe of your figure, like he gets to touch a statue so lifelike and beautiful that he canât believe it was ever a block of marble at all.Â
The concerns about what will happen tomorrow donât exist here, in your dark bedroom with Luke stuck to you like glue. For now, itâs just you. Together, breathing, touching, lovingâ thereâs nothing else that could matter. This is it.
note: i have to work on my grad school app in the coming days, so this will probably be the last blurb/oneshot until i finish the application. but, i might get bored of writing that and could pop in to do another smut piece here and there ;) hopefully i'll chat with y'all soon! but i don't want to rush this grad school app LOL
#puck-luck's 1k celebration#puck-luck's fics#andy writes anythingđ#luke hughes#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fanfiction#luke hughes smut#luke hughes blurb#lh43#nhl#nhl smut#nhl fanfiction#nhl blurb#hockey smut
338 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lost
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: It's not the first time you've plummeted into another timeline. It is the first time in years that you've met a Deadpool still doing the anti-hero (vigilante?) thing. And unfortunately for you, you're stuck with him.
Content Tags: DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS! I'm being so serious, this entire series is going to be stock-full of spoilers for that movie. Some mentions of blood, lots of cursing (as expected). No use of Y/N
A/N: I promise I'm working on stuff, work just has had me super busy the last few weeks (months if I'm being more honest) and school is coming up soon for me :(. Anyways. I wanna lick Logans abs. This is hopefully gonna be a slow burn ;)
(p.s. lmk if you wanna be added to a tag list in the future)
(p.p.s. this is mostly story building with a tad bit of plot)
(p.p.p.s. i'm trying to write in a less past tense style, forgive if that changes throughout the story, im so fuckin delirious)
Itâs jarring. Every single time it happens is so jarring. Itâs almost like getting whiplashed with how hard you are pulled backwards and then your stomach drops; it feels as though youâre falling. The same sensation you get right before you fall asleep, like your body canât tell if youâre still alive. Â
Youâve never been thrown so forcefully out of it. Usually you land, stumbling on your feet. This time, though, youâre thrown onto your back. Your skull cracks against the pavement underneath you and it feels like all the air has been forced out of your body. Â
âFuuuuck,â it feels pushed out of your body, your chest heaving in short gasps. Rolling onto your side, all you can see in front of you is the street. Whatever Earth youâve landed on, it doesnât seem like itâs good. Â
Thereâs blood splattered everywhere, cars and buses are on their sides or flipped over. Glass is scattered on the streets. Maybe you just arrived right after the battle of New York, maybe this world has been abandoned. Â
You struggle to your feet, stumbling and catching yourself before standing fully upright. You can feel the warmth of some blood on your back before the skin reconnects, leaving behind the burn of cement rash. Â
Behind you, thereâs panting. Itâs heavy and sounds almost wet. Turning, you look at two men who were behind you.Â
âOh, youâve got to be fucking kidding me,â Â
...Â
You tried walking away. Removing yourself from the situation like the adult you were, but no. It wasnât working. You never got more than a few feet away from the two before being teleported back within their range. Â
The two men, Deadpool and the poor Wolverine stuck with him, just watched for some time. Deadpool was oddly quiet through most of it, although you can almost hear the monologue in his thoughts, his head following as you walked in different directions before snapping to where you appeared. Dogpool, the ugly thing, sat in the arms of its alternate person just panting heavily. It never stopped panting. Â
You huff angrily, throwing your back against the wall right next to Wade. Crossing your arms, you look down at Mary Puppins sitting in his arms. She went cross eyed while looking up at you, staring blankly at the wall next to you and yourself. Â
âWho shit in your biscuit this morning?â Wade asks you, head tilting slightly. You have to brace yourself and breathe deeply to make sure you donât roll your eyes. You never realized how thankful you were that your home Earths Deadpool ended up in the void before you even knew what abilities you had. Â
Glancing down at him with just your eyes, you find that he still hasnât looked away. âWhoever the hell sent me here, thatâs who,â you respond. Thereâs pain in your voice, you can hear up, but also the utter annoyance that most Deadpool's just bring. âDidnât know the Wolverine on this world was still alive,â you nod your head towards Logan like youâre gesturing to him. Â
Itâs quiet. Youâve somehow silenced Wade Wilson, the merc with a mouth. You watch his chest expand in a deep inhale and it caves back in as he exhales deeply. Â
âHe isnât,â and your brows furrow. Other than the TVA, you donât know any other casual dimension jumper. Even they were a stretch, you know, they didnât deserve to be able to do that. Â Somehow, they were able to master it. You think he can see the confusion on your face as your eyes flit back and forth between them. Loganâs still eating whatever it is he had in his hand. âThe TVA,â he takes a breath, and you have to interrupt.Â
âWhy did they bring him here?â You shake your head, brows furrowing further. Â
Wade shifts his head side to side. âThey didnât bring him here, sunshine,â his voice perks up. âI did,â and he has the widest smile on his face that doesnât quite reach his eyes. Â
âI donât,â you pause and rub your face, looking down at the ground. âI donât even wanna know why or how,â Â
ââCause I'm Marvel Jesus,â is his quick quip back. He stands suddenly, his back popping and cracking as he stretches himself. âAlrighty, Peanut, letâs get going home,â he says to Logan (maybe it was to Mary Puppins, youâve got no idea), and thereâs a little pep in his step. âCâmon puppy!â Wade calls and you get yanked again and appear just a few feet ahead of him. Â
With a roll of his eyes, Logan stands and tosses his food off to the side. âIâm going to go figure things out on my own,â he says. Turning away, you watch as Logan walks off from the two of you and you hope to whatever being is out there that you get pulled along with him, but he isnât able to make it more than a few steps before Wade starts talking again.Â
âOh no you donât! Iâve waited far too long for this meetup!â Wade calls out, and you see Logan stop in his tracks. His shoulders slump, almost like heâs struggling with a decision heâs about to make. âBlind Al isnât all sheâs cocained up to be, we need a third in our little house of horrors,â he snickers a little.Â
Youâre really hoping it doesnât last forever, but when you finally make the trek to Wades apartment that feeling almost vanishes (almost). Itâs homey, although the apartment itself is small and cramped with two people already there. Youâve met a few Als before, but only a small number of them werenât blind.Â
It was only in passing though. You could recognize that woman anywhere. Her eyes were always a striking feature, and the few who werenât blind always carried this sort of knowledge within them as they followed you when you walked by them. Â
This Al seemed sweet, although listening to Wade tell you about her was a little odd. You couldnât fully tell if he was joking about her being able to see cocaine, but thereâs been worse youâve interacted with. Â
Speaking of worse, Logan would not let you out of his sight at all thus far. You could feel his eyes boring down on your back the entire walk to the apartment, and even when you got inside and completely ignored everything Wade was saying (a lot of it was just telling you and Logan about the apartment and what to not touch, oddly enough) he would not let you leave his sight. Â
Even just checking out what type of T.V this world had to offer left you with his stare. You begin to browse their small selection of DVDâs when you finally speak up.Â
âMight wanna take a picture,â it was quiet, but you knew he could hear you. âItâll last you longer,â but there was no response. Usually, it was the Bucky Barnes of the Earth that had the staring problem, it had never been the Wolverines. Â
They always made their problems with you obvious. Theyâd never pulled this type of behavior, and it was strange. For the first time in years, you had someone act strange and you couldnât figure out how to go about confronting it. Â
âWhoâre you?â Logan finally spoke up, quieting Wade in the middle of his rant. Â
You swallow thickly. âIâm not the person you think I am,â and you cringe internally. It always sounded dumb when you said it, but you never knew what else to say. Who knows if thereâs another you in this world, or maybe even Logans. âWhoever I am, or was, to you? Thatâs not who I am,â but youâd never met another one of you. Â
Thereâs the thud of glass on wood, it's thick and thereâs no way that it isnât a beer bottle. Â âIâve never met you in my life. Have you?â Assuming he was talking to Wade, you turn as best as you can while still crouched in front of the TV to look at him. Â
Heâs shrugging, opening his mouth for a response before Logan beats him to it. âWhat the hell is it that you can do, anyways? Are you a mutant? Or just another fucked up creation by a government?â You bark a laugh. Â
âIâm just one of Godâs fucked up mistakes, thatâs what,â and you look down with a sigh, shaking your head. âI really donât know. My world didnât have mutants, not like others do. It was always some botched work done by doctors in basements,â Wade looks appalled. Â
His eyes find some spot on the wall, and he smiles at it. âItâs like looking into a mirror. Although a lot less ballsackey and not as interesting,â you have to shake your head. Â
Logan clears his throat. âWhat do you mean, your world didnât have mutants,â you smile at him. Â
âMy timeline doesnât exist anymore,â Â
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#no use of y/n#mary puppins#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool and wolverin spoilers!!#hey siri is there a tag about those Hawaiian rolls hugh jackman has?#story building#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#slow burn#i've been working on this for almost four days now#im so delirious send help#logan brain rot
612 notes
·
View notes
Text
taste
pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader
summary: matt just wants a taste.
warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
a/n: itâs thanksgiving here today, and despite my mixed feelings about this holiday, I am thankful for all of yâall. so, hereâs a little treat from me to you bc I havenât shown our favorite human disaster some love in awhile. đ€
word count: 1.1k
Matt lost track of how long heâd had his head buried between your thighs. Your hair was still damp from your shower earlier, fresh notes of citrus and green apple lingering on the silk sheets. That coupled with the crisp sandalwood of his own cologne from the worn Columbia shirt of his you had stolen to bed intertwined with your own distinct scent lit a fire of desire within him. Heâd discarded a layer of his black suit with every silent step he took descending the staircase that led up to the rooftop door.
It had been a bad night, and Mattâs inherent Catholic guilt was at an all time high. So, he positioned himself exactly where he thought he belonged.
On his knees.
Matt held your soft thighs in his rough, calloused hands, his warm tongue lazily tumbling over your swollen clit over and over again. He slipped his tongue through your soaked folds much like he had the first time he had really kissed you; when a sweet kiss good night had ended with your back firmly pressed up against your front door and the two of you panting into each other's mouths.
Angelic pleas for mercy had sounded from your lips in various intervals, but your greedy fingers continued to tug him just a little closer by tight grips on his chestnut strands. Neither one of you seemed to be able to quit the other. Mattâs nose was nuzzled against your public bone, and his plump lips were wrapped around your clit, alternating between suckling languidly at a pace that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and dragging his tongue up and down the length of your entire pussy meticulously.
Every time you let out a desperate chant of his name and rolled your hips up in a needy way in search of more, Matt groaned loudly and moved his own hips in tandem. He had been rutting against the mattress for God only knows how long now, the front of his briefs completely soaked from the weeping slit on the head of his throbbing cock. Heâd never been so painfully hard in his life.
But Matt didnât feel like he had earned a release yet.
Despite the several tangy coats of your arousal on his tongue, he wanted more. He needed just a little more.
Just one more, he told himself, then heâd finally let himself fuck you. But right now, he was exactly where he wanted to be. Face nestled against your pussy, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his welcoming tongue, smelling the scent that was uniquely you right under his nose, hearing the verbal reassurances of how much you needed him, and how badly you wanted him.
Praises of his name and confessions of love slowly lifted the self imposed weight that laid heavy on his chest like cement. If an angel like you believed the Devil deserved Heaven, then maybe he did. You didnât ask for his penance, but he wanted to give it. He wanted to be worthy of being the man you made him feel like he was.
Matt ignored the ache in his jaw, and he whimpered against your core as his briefs snagged against the sensitive head of his cock just right. He wasnât gonna last long. Not with the heavenly aroma of you surrounding his senses completely, the sweet sound of your pleasure hitting his ears, the thrum of your impending climax thundering against his tongue.
He never wanted to come up for air. If this was how he was going to die, drowning in the tidal wave of your gratification, then heâd die a happy man.
Matt used his index and middle finger to spread your slicked pussy apart, eagerly swirling his tongue around your pulsing nub before switching to flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across it like a metronome. God, you were so warm and soft, and so fucking wet. He couldnât tell where his saliva ended and where your own essence started, but he didnât fucking care. The only taste he wanted seared into his taste buds was yours anyway.
He delved his tongue as deep within your cunt as he could, fucking you with it sensually while his nose bumped against your overstimulated clit repeatedly. You were close again. He could tell by the hitch in your breaths and the quiver in your soft thighs that were enclosed tightly around his head.
Matt never felt like he deserved you, so he made it his personal mission to make sure he earned you.
As soon as another wave of your candied tang drenched his mouth and dripped down his stubbled chin, Matt exploded with a pathetic whimper, feeling his own sticky warmth coating his lower abdomen and the tops of his thighs. The only reason he pulled his face away from your cunt was because you weakly pushed at his shoulders with your trembling hands.
âFuckfuckfuckâŠMattyâŠI canât. I-God, I need a minute-â
The breathless pants sounding from your lips were an elegant symphony to his ears. He closed his eyes while resting his head on your smooth thigh, trying to catch his own breath. For several minutes neither of you said anything, just laid there tangled up in the sheets together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.
All of a sudden, Matt sensed a shift in you. He heard your eyes flutter open, and felt the way you shifted your head off the pillow to peer down at him in curiosity.
âMattyâŠdidâŠdid you-â
âYeah.â
He didnât bother hiding it. He wasnât ashamed. Heâd be pissed when the cloud of lust currently fogging up his brain eventually cleared and he realized he ruined yet another set of silk sheets, but right now, he was too satisfied to give a shit about anything other than this moment with you.
A melodic giggle immediately erupted from your chest, and Matt squeezed your thigh teasingly in retaliation which caused you to squeal.
âHey! I wasnât making fun of you. Itâs actually quite flattering that you enjoy having your head between my thighs so much that you can come from that alone.â
âSweetheart, you could make me come just by reading our grocery list.â
Another round of angelic giggles fell from your lips, and a quiet whine of disapproval sounded from Matt when he felt you shifting in bed. Much to his dismay, you moved your soft and warm thigh away from under his head, which caused him to purse his plush lips in a pout. But before he could even protest, you were gently pushing him onto his back and brushing your lips against the shell of his ear.
âMaybe Iâll test that theory later, but right now, Iâd rather make you come with my mouth in a different way.â
tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @avengerstower-houseplant @mars-rants-a-lot @topperthornton @hailey-murdock @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @thyme-in-a-bubble @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts
#matt murdock#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock blurb#matt murdock smut#daredevil#daredevil blurb#daredevil smut
2K notes
·
View notes