#fabric quality testing

[itclabs]

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[storm-of-silver]

Sorta a smaller lore post, but here's some info on accessories of the setting! I've been trying to design things with cat use in mind, including how things stay on a cat comfortably and easily. This included accounting for walking, sneaking, and climbing- anything that was snug against the leg's underside would chafe, and anything without something securing it to the front would fall downwards when climbing.

ID + TEXT UNDERNEATH

[Image ID: A sketch of a cat's hind leg. There is a bag on it, kept in place by two straps that connect at the heel. End ID]

While many cats prefer to keep their belongings on their torso, the back leg is an acceptable place to wear small bags. Items such as herbs or snacks are common to put in here.

Unfortunately, delicate items or valuables cannot be put here, as the movement of the leg can damage them, and the placement makes it easy to steal from. This makes the hind leg harder to use overall, opposed to other choices.

[Image ID: Another sketch, of a cat's body. There are two knife sheaths- one loops around the neck and stomach, while the other loops around the rear and the stomach End ID]

The shoulder area is the most common place to see bags and sheaths placed, as it allows the head quick access to the item while being extremely secure while climbing.

The rear is less common, more comfortable when walking, but less so when trying to climb, as the bag or sheath will bump the hind leg.

The shoulder is favored by hunters who need a larger range of movement, and the rear is favored by guards who tend to sit or walk more often than anything else.

[Image ID: A fullbody with two strings on it. One loops around the neck and around the back, and one over the face and under the muzzle. A small face shows a string looped around two holes in the ear, like a piercing. End ID]

For fashion or aesthetics, string clothes are favored due to their simplicity to make, the variety in materials and appearances available, and ease of wearing it.

Beads, feathers, bones, acorns, furs- what is attached to the string is entirely the wearer's choice. Shiny things tend to be preferred, such as metals or gems scavenged from tall ones, which the City Cats will happily trade away.

String clothes always have a singular 'anchor' loop places around the head, neck, torso, or the base of the tail. Other strings will then be attached to that string, relying on it as support. A single loop cannot be made on the back without an anchor, as it will simply fall off as the cat moves.

Some adventurous cats may also pierce their ears to place loops or metals within them, although within colony culture it is extremely looked down upon, with some considering it self-mutilation.

[Image ID: A fullbody, showing cloth draped over the back of a cat. The fabric is secured on by two straps, one around the neck, and one around the stomach. A second fullbody shows that the fabric can also be looped around the neck in one single piece, like a cloak, replacing the strap on the neck. End ID]

For full body clothing, all colonies use a similar design, featuring at least two straps- one on the neck, and one on the stomach- to secure a piece of fabric with. Some designs will opt for three straps, either an extra one on the stomach or one looping around the rear, in order to keep the clothes from slipping or moving.

While this kind of fashion was exclusive to the Colony of Fireflies, a few outside of the colony picked up on the practice, although were largely considered odd or weird for doing so. After the Final Light, clothing for aesthetics largely vanished, with thick clothes being used during winter and nothing more.

With the creation of the Colony of Clickers however, the surviving members of the Colony of Fireflies brought the tradition back. The fashion came back strong, a possible sign that things are starting to return to normal finally.

[Image ID: A final fullbody, showing a backpack with three straps- two around the stomach, and one around the neck. End ID]

The most popular way to store items, especially on long journeys, a bag on the back functions much like full body clothes. They are expensive to make, but provide plenty of storing space, and the straps can often have extra bags or sheaths sewn in as needed.

Bags almost universally have three straps, with two on the stomach and one on the neck. Designs with a third strap on the rear is rare, as having to take the bag off when taking 'breaks' is inconvenient at best.

Some designs may include soft padding for comfort or insulation to keep meals warm, but they are rare and extremely expensive.

[alatariel-galadriel]

beautiful beautiful charmeuse silk with a black-to-red ombré why are you $60 dollars a yard when I desire you carnally????

[kittzuxp]

wait acrylic colors are awesome actually i might try painting something again once i buy new ones

[diymetalfabrication]

2-month Review & Filter Change: DecDust 1100 Pole Barn Air Filter & Tips For Aftermarket Filters!

Continue reading Untitled

[fear-is-truth]

THE DARKER THE FRUIT, THE SWEETER.

━╋ CHARLIE MAYHEW x nun!reader

♱. content warning: mature content 18+・blasphemy・unprotected p in v・english is not my first language

a/n: i’m sorry i don’t know what possessed me

FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW sits back in a wooden chair, dark eyes following you closely, but not with the sanctity one expects from a man of god. he’s holding a bible in his hand, fingers idly brushing the worn edges, but the words that come out of his mouth have strayed far from the expected teachings.

“celibacy,” he declares, “is a widely misunderstood concept. it’s not about abstaining, but about control. mastery of the flesh, not rejection of it.”

you’re sitting across from him, hands folded neatly in your lap as you tried to maintain a composed front. you don’t bother to mask the skepticism in your tone. “is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night, father? that indulging a little bit isn’t breaking your vows?”

the soft mockery didn’t deter him. if anything, it fueled him. his expression does not falter; in fact, he smiles wider. “ah, but sister. did christ not spend forty days in the wilderness, surrounded by temptation, and come out stronger? his words are laced with arrogance, each one delivered as if it were irrefutable truth. the towel around his waist slips just a little, revealing more skin, but he makes no effort to adjust it. his gaze never leaves yours, and the audacity of it all strikes you.

“is it not written that to know sin, one must overcome it?

under current circumstances, charlie mayhew is a man of contradictions—utterly confident despite his obviously flawed reasoning. it’s impossible to tell if he truly believed what he was saying or if he simply liked bending the truth for his own purposes.

“so what you’re telling me,” your voice carried a soft lilt, lips curling as you meet his gaze, “is that celibacy is… negotiable now? sounds a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

slowly, you rise to your feet, deliberately turning away before bending down. the slit in your black habit parts slightly, revealing fishnet stockings, the round curve of your ass visible through the thin fabric.

“indulgence is sin when it lacks discipline,” he replies without skipping a beat, but there’s a new, raspy quality in his voice now.

“but when it’s controlled—when you allow yourself to feel something and rise above it—that’s where true strength lies. that’s power. that’s faith.” he’s idly stroking himself, slow pumps of his hand around the throbbing length. taking your own sweet time, you made a show of adjusting the strap on your high heels and allowing him to see the red lacy thong underneath as the slit falls open a bit more.

“besides,” he continues, “what’s the harm in understanding sin—up close? is it not our duty to learn the limits of our restraint, to test our strength?”

not answering, you simply sashay toward the priest, heels clicking softly against the floor, until you stop directly in front of him. his eyes follow your every movement as you free yourself of your garments, though the smirk on his lips never falters. you reach down and tilt his chin up with one finger,

“for someone who preaches so much about temptation,” you purr, “you sure don’t seem eager to resist it.”

he raises a brow, but before he can respond, you swing a leg over his lap, straddling him with deliberate slowness. your hand slides down his chest, fingertips brushing against smooth skin. his breath catches as one of your hands grazes over his toned abs, while the other squeezes his face with a teasing pressure.

“tell me, father.”

leaning in, you press your lips to his. when he doesn’t pull away, you deepen the kiss, gently pulling his lower lip between your teeth. his breath shudders as you release him, eyes scorching with lust.

“is this what you had in mind when you swore to be devout?”

a stretched groan escapes his lips when you guided the tip of his shaft between your slick folds. carefully, you sink down onto him, relishing in the tight, hot stretch—inch by glorious inch. your eyelids momentarily flutter shut as you were fully impaled on his cock, and just when you thought he’s about to kiss you again, charlie dips his head down. you gasped when you feel his tongue tracing slow circles around the areola before finally wrapping his lips around your nipple.

“ooh,” you manage to breathe out, and you immediately feel him smile against your breast. charlie starts to thrust up into you, his girth stretching you out to the extent that you can practically feel every ridge and bump of the veins that scattered along his length dragging against your walls. ripples of pleasure course through your body, the cross pendant you wore around your neck bouncing between your breasts with the motion.

the small room is soon filled with the slapping sounds of skin on skin, coupled with the wet suction of your pussy swallowing his cock, occasionally punctuated by your whimpers and his moans.

it doesn’t take long for the hot coil inside of you to snap. a powerful orgasm tears through your body, inner walls convulsing around him. within seconds, his seed is spurting into your womb, triggering aftershocks that left you trembling like a leaf in high wind.

charlie’s head falls back to rest against the wall behind him, as his cock continued to twitch deep inside you, residual spasms in sync with the weak fluttering of your pussy around him. your body is still tingling, a pleasant, dizzy warmth spreading through you.

“jesus…” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop them. he chuckles dryly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his hand lazily trails up your back.

“no, sister.” he murmurs, toying with a strand of your hair, gently tugging.

“it’s ‘father charlie’ to you.”

masterlist

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[s0dium]

Needier

A/n: Thanks for all the support. It is not necessary to read pt.1 to read this <3

Word Count: 3.6k

Pt.1

Warnings: Pervert Yuuta, panty sniffing, pining, male masturbation, pre mature ejaculation, edging, pussy eating, thigh humping, mentions of breeding, slight dubcon, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk

Yuuta Okkatsu would like to say that he is a patient man.

In fact he would even pride himself on this quality, that no matter how thin his restrain was stretched, no matter how much he was tested, out in the open, Yuuta Okkatsu remained composed

Of course, you wouldn’t know that. No, you certainly have no idea what a patient man Yuuta has been. Been for you. You have no idea that since that day, simply being near you is the ultimate test of his restraint. That every accidental touch sent a surge of electricity through his veins, coursing hot blood straight to his dick, and a swarm of most unholy thoughts on what he'd fucking do to you. You certainly haven't the faintest clue that beneath his calm smile, dark tired eyes, and casual conversation, his mind explores your body, fucks you until your creaming all over him, and makes you swallow every last drop of cum he'd fuck into your cute mouth.

There are times when he treads a line though. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, Yuuta finds excuses to be near you, to catch the faint scent of your shampoo or the unique fragrance that seems to encapsulate your essence. One time, he found himself in the dorm's laundry room, where your belongings were left slightly askew, a common sight among the hustle of Jujutsu student life. Among the disarray, a piece of your laundry accidentally catches his eye—pink underwear and a beige bra. His heart races with a mix of guilt and absolute longing as picks up the fabric and he buries his nose into the cloth, desperately breathing in your smell.

"F-fuck" Yuuta groans upon breathing your scent. How could you smell so fucking sweet? Damn it, his dick is already getting hard. But almost as quickly as he picked it up he puts your underwear down, chastising himself for the lewdness of his actions, the vulgarity.

Yes, Yuuta has resolved to bide his time. He will wait for the perfect moment, a serene pause in the rush of daily life, it is then when he will confess his feelings to you. It is then he won't have to be patient anymore.

His restraint always wavered at nightfall though. This night was no exception. Throughout the day, glimpses of you in your gym shorts and tank top haunted him, aroused him, etching a vivid image that refused to fade with the setting sun.

As he retreated to his room, the weight of the day's impressions bore down on him. The moment the door clicked shut, a sigh escaped his lips as he pulled out his dick and languidly fisted his length. Pre-cum was already dribbled on his pretty pink tip but he used the milky liquid to guide his hand up and down in fast fluid motions.

"Please, f-fuck please y/n" He whined, stumbling over to his bed where he could pull out the polaroid you took of him and yourself together. What would you think if you knew he had fucked himself almost every night to this seemingly wholesome selfie you took? Through heavy eyelids he gazes upon your face, the motion of his hand speeding up as the thoughts of you intensified. He wants to feel you so bad, be inside you, feel your walls squeeze around him struggling to take him in. How would your moans sound? How would your boobs feel like in his large palms, would you let him eat you out? Oh what a dream that would be, Yuuta doesn't think he'd stop licking your cunt if he ever got your chance. Yes, he'd make you feel so good, you'd make him feel so good, so much better than his fist, he's so close to cummin-

*ping*

Amidst the pleasure, Yuuta feels the vibration of his phone on his bed. He doesn't want to look not now, not now when he's so close, but his eyes accidentally wander to the screen, widening when they see the message is from you.

Blinking back the pleasure, Yuuta stops his ministrations, wipes his dominant hand on a piece of tissue, and grabs his phone. The screen lights up, and a jolt of surprise sends his heart plummeting when he sees your name. The message is simple,

"Wanna come over for a movie night in ten?"

His response is almost immediate.

"Yeah sure."

Yuuta's fingers tremble as he sends the message. Is this it? Is this the chance he has been waiting for? Hastily, he cleans his hands with a towel, discarding his current attire for something more casual. Stifling a soft groan, he tucks his half-hard dick into his sweatpants under his boxer's waistband. Then he replaces his white uniform coat with a graphic t-shirt, a more relaxed and inviting look

Checking his appearance in the mirror, he runs a hand through his black hair. He's always wondered how you perceived him. Did you find him as attractive like he did to you? Finally, unable to wait any longer, he exits his room. The short walk to your door feels like an eternity, each step heavy with a mix of nerves and excitement. He arrives, takes a deep breath to steady himself, and knocks softly.

Yuuta's breath almost catches in his throat when you open the door and his eyes fall upon your body and what you are wearing. You stand behind the door, bathed in the dim soft light of your bedroom, wearing a simple white tank top that Yuuta thinks is almost ethereal against your skin. One strap hangs loosely, teasingly off your shoulder, revealing the gentle curve of your collarbone and the subtle hint of your breast's outline. The fabric, light and airy, falls just short enough to offer a glimpse of your cute stomach and your black shorts that cling to your curves, sculpting the fat of your ass and the contours of your hips.

Is this what an angel look like Yuuta wonders?

"Yuu, hello Yuu, are you listening?" you wave your hand gently in front of his dazed eyes, trying to snap him back to the present.

"Oh yeah," Yuuta chuckles softly, "sorry just a little tired."

"Well you dont have to stand there come in!" you say through a smile, opening the door and stepping aside so Yuuta can come into your room.

As Yuuta steps over the threshold, a wave of your room's scent envelops him—the subtle blend of lavender and vanilla that he's caught hints of whenever you've been close, but never this intense. The scent sits on his tongue making Yuuta's head grow fuzzy. It's inviting, sweet, and intimate, filling the space with a warmth that makes the room seem cozier than its plain decor suggests.

Your room is tidy, with a soft pink rug adding a splash of color against the otherwise neutral tones. Your laptop is open on the bed, surrounded by a few scattered notes and pens. You sit down on the edge of the mattress, the bed shifting slightly under your weight, and pat the spot next to you, a silent invitation for him to join.

He takes a moment, thickly swallowing before moving towards you and taking the offered seat. The bed dips under his weight, bringing him slightly closer.

"So," you start, your voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room, "wanna watch the new haikyuu movie? Ive been dying to see it'"

"S-sure" Yuuta manages to nod, his voice catching on the single syllable as he tries to focus on what you're saying rather than how close you are. He doesn't think he's ever been this close to you, your bodies are practically touching. He can see your facial expressions up close, and catch things he's never noticed before; like the twitch of your eyebrow or how you lick your lips when you focus on something 

The movie begins with its vibrant opening scenes, characters leaping across the screen in intense volleyball matches, but you couldn't even ask Yuuta the names of the characters. It seems to be about some guys getting their panties in a twist over volleyball ball. He doesn’t know and frankly, he doesn’t care. He's too acutely aware of your presence just inches away, the warmth of your shoulder brushing against his every so often. How if he really tried, he could lean in and see down your shirt.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing thoughts, and steals a glance at you. God you are beautiful. He wants to say something, to make some comment about the movie to show he's paying attention, but words fail him. Instead, he just shifts slightly, moving a fraction of an inch closer to you under the pretense of getting a better view of the screen.

Something important must've happened because suddenly, you grab his thigh in reaction to a particularly intense scene in the movie. The sudden touch sends an electric jolt through him, and his dick jumps with excitement. Yuuta has to bite his lip to stifle a groan just from your touch. His face flushes a deep red, and he turns to look at you, catching your excited expression as you watch the screen. Of course you have no idea what you are doing to him.

Yuuta tries to refocus on the movie, but it's a futile effort. The warmth of your hand seeps through his clothing, igniting a fire that makes his dick strain against his waistband. His mind races with thoughts of turning to you, of closing the distance between you with a kiss that he's been fantasizing about. Is this it? Is this the moment he has been waiting for? Yuuta swallows hard, his mouth dry, his thoughts swirling with the possibilities of what could happen if he just leaned in and fucking kissed you.

Now, now now.

Yes, Yuuta is a patient man, until he isn't.

Without another moment's hesitation, Yuuta acts on the impulse that has been building within him. His hand, shaky with anticipation and nerves, reaches out to gently grasp your chin, turning your face towards him. The sudden contact startles you, pulling your attention away from the screen to his intense, longing gaze.

"Yuu- what?" You say softly but he doesn't respond. Instead, as if driven by a force beyond his control, Yuuta leans in and his lips meet yours in a kiss that is both tentative and desperate. It's, needy, messy, and hungry, his lips devouring yours with all the pent-up yearning and silent adorations he's harbored, a kiss that speaks to how god damn patient he's been.

Your initial shock gives way to the unfolding reality of the moment. The warmth of his lips against yours sends a surge of emotion through you, mingling surprise with an escalating thrill. He didn't know it, but you have been patient too.

Yuuta's heart races as he senses your hesitation melting away. This can't be real, you are actually kissing him back. Your lips are so soft against his, Yuuta is damn near having an out-of-body experience from how sweet you taste. His fingers slide into your hair, deepening the kiss with a gentle assertiveness, as if afraid you might pull away. But you don't. Instead, you lean into him, parting your lips to let his tongue slide in and entangle with yours. Your own hands find their way to his broad shoulders, gripping them for balance and perhaps, in a way, for anchorage amidst his desperation.

As your lips part, you both are left breathless, a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. You feel warmth blossom in your stomach when you meet Yuuta's gaze. He looks entirely bothered, pupils blown and dark black hair tousled from your roaming hands.

"More, please" Yuuta barely whispers before meeting his lips with yours again. This time he's bolder, one of his hands snaking under your white top to cup your boobs. "Oh fu-" He groans into your mouth, feeling the fat of your breasts fill in the gaps of his fingers as he squeezes and presses on the squishy skin.

Suddenly, Yuuta moves, his body positioning over yours in a fluid, careful motion and so his groin is on top of your thigh. For a moment your too absorbed in his messy kiss that you almost miss how he starts to grind his dick against your thigh.

"Ngh so good," Yuuta moans into your mouth, dragging his clothed crotch up and down your lower thigh, full on humping it. He knows he should stop, that he shouldn't be acting like some pervert, but Yuuta's brain is so fuzzy, so lost in the realization that you reciprocate his feelings and that this is actually happening, that he can't bring himself to do anything besides hump your leg like a he's in heat.

"Yuu, please...." You whine amongst his incessant kisses. You can feel a wet spot start to form on his sweatpants and you moan at the feeling of being used like a sex toy.

Yuuta wants to say something, something about how good he's feeling, something about the buzzing in his head and the warmth spreading through out his body. But he can't. Everything feels too good right now, too heavenly he can't even open his eyes or ignore the colors dancing across his eyelids. Your tongue feels so good against his, and your lips are so soft, he can't help but rut against your soft skin faster and harder, he can't stop himself from climbing high and higher into a euphoric bliss.

Then, it hits him. With a choked whine into your ear, Yuuta cums into his pants, leaving your thigh wet and sticky.

"Oh god baby I'm so sorry," he babbles, choking on each syllable from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Shit shit shit. How could be fuck up the opportunity so badly? Surly you were going to be disgusted by him, any moment now you were going to ask him to leave.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, taken aback by what he sees. You're panting, cheeks flushed, lips glossy from his kisses, and your eyelids heavy with arousal.

"No no, It's okay, Yuu" you murmur, petting the back of his black hair, "I mean, we can stop if you want-"

"No!" Yuuta cuts you off. "Please, I... I want this. Wanna fuck you so badly baby please." He whines into your neck, peppering kisses on your soft skin.

And how could you stay no?

You nod and Yuutas eyes light up. Immediately he’s pulling down your pants and underwear, eyes widening at the sight of your cunt. If you wanted, Yuuta thinks he could cum again just from looking at you. Your first instinct is to close your legs, to shield yourself from being so exposed from Yuuta's intense gaze. However, two strong hands firmly grasp the underside of your thighs and press them towards you, effectively folding you in half and spreading you wide open.

"Yuu..." You whine, but your protests fall upon deaf ears. Right now Yuuta is in a whole other world. Right now, in this moment, Yuuta thinks he must have died and gone to fucking heaven. His tongue darts out to wet his lips because oh god he is practically drooling right now at the sight of you. He knew you where beautiful but Jesus christ. He releases one of your thighs to spread your wet folds with his pointer and thumb, pupils dilating at the sight of your tight hole clenching around nothing.

"Yuu pl~"

Yuuta doesn't let you finish the sentence because he is already on you, his eager hot mouth enveloping your twitching clit, licking and sucking. His tongue flattens, softly lapping at your sensitive pearl before swirling it around, fast and gentle enough to have you whining.

“Oh god yuuta m’ gonna c-cum”

Your voice has him moaning into your cunt and aggressively rutting his hips into the bed for relief. At this rate he was going to cum before you again, and that couldn't happen, no he needed to be inside you first.

Yuuta immediately relinquishes his ministrations on your pussy with a loud ’pop’ making you whine at the loss of your release that was so close.

“Not now baby ok?" He says through a groan. "Wanna feel you first, been dreaming about."

Yuuta's pulling down his sweatpants now, and you watch with wide eyes as his long length springs out. You don't know what you expected but you didn't expect him to be so big. Pre-cum dribbles down his pink tip and along the length of his member.

"Yuu, I dont think- I think its gonna hu-" You choke out but your words fall upon deaf ears. He's already aligning himself with your hole, and you jerk at the pressure of his tip against you.

"Slow, slowly please." You whisper and Yuuta wants to listen to you, he really does, but every cell in his brain is screaming at him to do the opposite. Yuuta stills against you, and for a moment you think he's going to say something, even acknowledge your words.

"M'sorry baby." He murmurs into your ear before bullying his length all the way inside of you. The world spins and for a second Yuuta's mind goes completely blank, he doesn't even hear the moan that's been ripped from your throat. All the nights he's fantasized about this moment, the hours he spent jacking off and touching himself, everything, all disappeared the moment he slipped inside you. You felt good? Try euphoric. Yuuta wasn't even thinking thoughts he was seeing colors. How could he ever think his fist could compare to you? The way your walls sucked in and hugged him, so wet and warm, god, no amount of fantasizing could've compared to the real thing.

“Y-you gotta l-loosen up baby or im gonna ah~”

It was all too much, he had just slipped in you, and yet and he was down for the count. Everything was too good too fast, he couldn't stop the high that was approaching even if he wanted to.

"fuckfuckfuck baby pl-" Its too late. Thick ropes of cum spill inside you, there's so much of it it's escaping from the sides of his dick and dripping out your hole.

You whine at the warm feeling blossoming in your stomach, and before you can even get a word in, Yuuta reels his hips back and slams into you.

“No not gonna stop,” He said through gritted teeth and your eyes widen when you feel his already hard again dick continue to push into you.

Your toes curl at the sensation of Yuuta's dick pressing against your cervix. The friction and the stretch of his member has your mouth falling open and your tongue panting out. In a great display of strength, he pulls both of your legs over his shoulders and grabs your hands to pin them down with his. The new position has his dick reaching spots you could only dream about hitting with your fingers, and as his thrusts speed up, you desperately hold onto Yuuta hands with yours.

"So good yuu!" You wail as he presses kisses along your neck, his hips not so much as stuttering as they thrust in and out of you like he is in heat.

“So good baby you feel so good wanna fuck you every day, never stop fucking you." He feverishly groans into your skin. Every time he thrusts into you, his hips reel back so his length leaves you almost empty, only to ram back into you again to keep you full and dumb on his dick.

Unable to handle the sensation, your back arches and your heels dig into the muscles of his back. Yuuta doesn’t let up his pace, in fact, he increases it, pounding your cunt like he will never get a chance again. He wants to make you shake, make you moan and whine with pleasure, and fill your brain with only thoughts of him until you're begging him to fuck you more and more. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so good, he’s not even thinking when he lets go of one of your hands and shoves his two fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gonna be good for me right?"

You nod repeatedly, sucking on fingers like candy.

"Gotta lot of time to make up for, for teasing me so long"

You can tell he's close because his words start to end in curses, and his breath his getting ragged and faster. Luckily for him, you're close too. The pleasure building in your core is starting to become unbearable, and the muscles in your leg where becoming weary from how long they have been tightened.

"Please cum on me baby," Yuuta begs into your ear, punctuating his words with sharp fast thrusts.

Fap,Fap,Fap

The sound of his skin against you filled your ears and almost as soon as Yuuta asks, your hurled toward the best orgasm you have ever experienced. You felt like your mind was exploding, like electric white hot arrows of pleasure coursed through your vains. You could feel your body shakes from the euphoria, and Yuuta watches you with blown pupils as you cum on his dick.

"S-so pretty when you cum, your so pretty to cu-" Yuuta is quick to follow, and with a whine his body tenses up and his back arches like a bow. As he blows his load, you feel his warmth soak your battered pussy and his hot breath panting against your ear. Yuuta almost feels drunk right now from how intense the pleasure is and his mouth partly falls open as his orgasm washes over him. Even as his dick starts to soften, he still ruts himself into you, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"So good baby so so good." He murmurs into your ear.

Yuuta is so glad he doesn't need to be patient anymore.

Tags: @saintani @strxwberryfetish @memi-sempai @thejujvtsupost @shuuji71 @yutaokkotsuluver @nyxypoo @kaiyanaarichi @procyonnn @fdeegbffi @isagistar @lei-athara @paper--angel @mayiw @badbclub @anathemaspeaks @atinymonbebestay @korebringerofded @lea-is-lame @leviswifey-act62 @hyperfixationer @soraokkotsu

[ahqkas]

hey so how do you think the batboys would deal with a s/o who sleeps with a sheathed sharp weapons knife/taser/glock under their pillow whenever their boyfriend isn’t sleeping over at their place. S/o forgot to put it away when their boyfriend came over. Too Happy to see him. the boys find the knife/taser/glock under the pillow and s/o’s just like “I’m a woman living in bludhaven/gotham. I’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in”?

♯ STRONGER THAN ALL MY MEN ( your boyfriend finds a stashed weapon under your pillow ! )

— gn!reader, bruce, dick, jason, mention of reader’s hair

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

BRUCE HAD ALWAYS BEEN A MAN OF SHARP OBSERVATION. it was second nature to him, etched so deeply that even in the comfort of your apartment, his eyes missed nothing. he’d come over late, after finishing up with wayne enterprises and a brief patrol, his strong body visibly relaxed for the first time all day. you had greeted him at the door with an embrace so warm and genuine it chased away the weight of gotham from his shoulders. he barely had time to remove his coat before you were pulling him toward your bed, eager to savor a rare, quiet night together.

as he eased into the bed, his movements were slow, deliberate, and unguarded—a state so rare for him, reserved only for these moments of quiet with you. he reached for one of the pillows, intending to fluff it into a more comfortable shape, but his hand stilled when it brushed against something sharp beneath the soft fabric. his brow furrowed, and his fingers instinctively slipped under the pillow. the faint rustle of fabric accompanied the retrieval of the object, and when he pulled it free, the dim light from your bedside lamp reflected off the gleaming surface of a sheathed knife.

bruce’s lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening as he studied the weapon with the intensity of someone accustomed to cataloging the smallest details. his thumb brushed over the hilt, testing its weight and balance. the blade wasn’t just functional—it was high-quality, the kind of thing someone purchased with intention, not on a whim. his blue eyes flicked between the knife and the pillow, the wheels in his mind turning as he silently pieced together the puzzle. whatever conclusions he was drawing, the slight tension in his shoulders suggested he didn’t like them.

you froze mid-laugh, the joy of the moment fading as your eyes landed on the blade in his hand. for a moment, he said nothing, his face unreadable in that maddening way he often was. then, finally, he spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying the weight of his concern.

“why is there a knife under your pillow?”

with a sigh, you sank onto the edge of the bed as your initial embarrassment gave way to resolve. “i forgot it was there,” you admitted. “i was just so happy to see you, i didn’t even think about it.”

his expression didn’t shift, but his eyes remained fixed on you, searching for an explanation. when you didn’t offer one immediately, he prompted gently, “and why was it there to begin with?”

you met his gaze, the unspoken judgment in his tone only strengthening your resolve. “because i live in gotham,” you said firmly, voice steady despite the slight tremor of vulnerability underneath. “i’m not waiting until it’s too late for when someone breaks in.”

bruce’s jaw tightened, the faint clench of his teeth betraying the storm of emotions inside his otherwise composed mind. slowly, he lowered the knife, resting it across his lap as though the weight of it mirrored the burden of your words. his fingers lingered on the hilt, tracing its edge absentmindedly, his mind clearly running through a thousand scenarios he wished he could control. you could see the conflict etched into his features—the subtle furrow of his brow, the tension in his shoulders that he hadn’t quite released.

part of him understood, maybe even agreed, his practical side recognizing the harsh reality of your reasoning. he knew the dangers of gotham better than anyone, knew that even the smallest act of preparation could mean the difference between survival and tragedy. and yet, another part of him, the deeply ingrained protector, the man who had spent his life shielding others from harm, bristled at the thought of you needing to live this way. the idea of you sleeping with a weapon so close, of facing the world with that level of vigilance, gnawed at him. it wasn’t just fear—it was frustration. frustration that the city he fought so hard to fix still made you feel unsafe, that even in your safe place, you couldn’t fully let your guard down.

his lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something, but he hesitated. the words seemed to catch in his throat, unspoken, as he tried to reconcile the truth of your actions with the deep ache it left in his heart.

“you know i would never let anything happen to you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “if anyone so much as tried—”

“they wouldn’t get the chance,” you interrupted, your tone calm but resolute. “because i’d already have this,” you gestured to the knife, “or my taser, or my glock.”

the mention of a glock made bruce’s lips tighten further as the weight of your words sank in. his gaze flickered briefly to the bedside table, then back to you, as if he were reassessing the entire space around him. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, his mind running through a calculated mix of strategy, worry, and frustration. he wasn’t just imagining the scenarios that had led you to this decision—he was dissecting them, analyzing every possibility, every risk you might face, every outcome he wished he could prevent.

“it’s not that i don’t trust you to protect me, bruce,” you added softly. “i know you would. but you’re not always here. and i’ve seen too much, lived in this city too long, to be naive about what could happen. this isn’t paranoia—it’s survival.”

he sighed, setting the knife on the nightstand before turning to face you fully. his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as his expression softened. “i get it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i do. but it doesn’t mean i like the thought of you having to live like this.”

you leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his. “it’s just how things are, love. i’m not afraid, not really. i’m just careful.”

his thumb stroked over your cheek, the calloused pad a warm contrast to the slight chill lingering in the room as his blue eyes softened while they searched yours, lingering on the subtle cracks in your carefully built walls.

“i’ll support you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, as though each word had been meticulously chosen. there was no judgment in his tone, only a quiet acceptance that carried the weight of his trust. “if this makes you feel safe, i won’t argue.” bruce paused, his hand still cupping your cheek as his gaze flickered between your eyes, searching for a connection deeper than words. “but i need you to promise me something.”

“what’s that?”

“that if anything happens, anything at all, you call me,” he said firmly. “even if you think you can handle it. even if it’s something small. i want to be there for you.”

you smiled, the warmth of his concern wrapping around you like a soft blanket. his eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a rare tenderness that melted away any lingering tension. slowly, you leaned forward, your hand reaching up to rest gently against his jawline, fingers brushing the faint stubble that shadowed his skin. his breath hitched ever so slightly, his lips parting in anticipation as you closed the distance between you.

the kiss you shared was unhurried, delicate at first—a quiet reassurance, a way to say thank you without words. his lips were warm and soft, moving in perfect sync with yours as he cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer. the world seemed to still for a moment, the weight of gotham, of fears and weapons, fading into the background. all that mattered was this—his steady presence, his unyielding care, and the way he kissed you as if he was trying to protect you even in this simple, intimate gesture.

when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the soft silence of the room. “i promise,” you murmured again, your voice carrying a quiet certainty, as if the kiss had sealed it more than any words ever could.

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

DICK HAD BEEN AROUND WEAPONS MAJORITY OF HIS ENTIRE LIFE. from the tragedy and chaos in the circus, danger was practically woven into the fabric of his existence. but even so, when he slipped into your bed after a late-night patrol in blüdhaven and felt the cold, unmistakable edge of a knife under your pillow, he froze. his hand instinctively reached for the object, pulling it out with a mix of confusion and concern etched into his features.

“uh, sweetheart?” dick’s voice was filled with both amusement and concern as he pulled the sharp blade from under your pillow, his brow arched in a mix of confusion and curiosity. he turned the knife over in his hand, examining the cold steel for a moment before his eyes met yours. “care to explain why this was under your pillow?” the tone of his voice was playful but laced with genuine concern. “i mean, are you secretly a vigilante? because if so, i gotta say, i’m impressed by the commitment to your role. or, should i be worried that you’ve been planning my untimely demise while i wasn’t looking?” his lips curled into a teasing smile, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—concern for you, his mind racing with questions. were you in danger?

you turned toward him, your face soft and warm with happiness from having him home, your usual alertness dulled by the comfort of his presence. but when your eyes landed on the knife in his hand, you let out a small, sheepish laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. “oh, that,” you said casually, as if he had found nothing more concerning than a stray sock. “i forgot to put it away. i was too excited when you came over.”

your boyfriend blinked at you, facial expression torn between exasperation and amusement. “you forgot to put it away?” he repeated, incredulity lacing his tone. “like this is just a regular thing you keep in bed with you?”

sitting up, you hugged your knees to your chest and looked at him with the kind of calm defiance that made his heart ache with how strong you always tried to be. “dick, i’m living in blüdhaven. i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in. this city doesn’t exactly have the best reputation for its welcoming committee.”

he sighed, running a hand through the black locks of his hair as he set the knife on the nightstand. “i get that, i really do. but i wish you didn’t feel like you had to sleep with a weapon under your pillow. that’s not exactly the kind of safety i want for you.”

you tilted your head, giving him a pointed look. “you’re a vigilante. you carry more weapons than i do on a daily basis, and you’re telling me you don’t get why i do this?”

dick groaned, leaning back against the headboard, his muscles tense as he processed what you’d said. he pulled you toward him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders until you were nestled against his warm body, your head tucked against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as he held you close.

“okay, fair point,” he admitted with a sigh, brushing a lock of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. his lips lingered there for a moment, as if he could melt away your worries with the simple act of being present. “but i don’t like the idea of you feeling like you’re alone in this.” his words were more vulnerable now. “you shouldn’t have to carry that weight by yourself, no matter how tough you are.”

you relaxed against him, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “i don’t feel alone when you’re here,” you said softly, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i know blüdhaven isn’t exactly the safest place, but u’ll do everything i can to make sure you’re protected. and that doesn’t mean you have to keep a knife under your pillow.”

glancing up at him, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “what are you going to do? install some wayne-tech security system in my apartment?”

he grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and determination. “don’t tempt me. i could have this place locked down tighter than fort knox by tomorrow morning.”

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON STEPPED INTO YOUR APARTMENT WITH A TIRED BUT CONTENTED SIGH, the weight of the night’s patrol still lingering on his shoulders. he was used to the harsh realities of gotham—the crime, the chaos, and the constant vigilance it required from him and his family. still, when he came to you, everything slowed down. your presence was a breath of air that he didn’t realize he’d been holding. tonight, he was looking forward to winding down, to a few hours of peace away from the violence he so often lived in.

as he kicked off his large boots and walked through your living room, he noticed the familiar comforting clutter of your apartment. his eyes swept over the small space—a few scattered books, your favorite mug on the coffee table, and the soft flicker of a candle’s flame in the corner. you had always been someone who embraced the chaos of the city, but you also made it your home, finding calm in the cracks between the its dark heart.

you appeared from the hallway, grinning at him like a beacon of warmth along with a look of pure joy on your face. you always managed to light up the room the moment you walked in, and jason felt his tense muscles relax. he smiled back, his heart beating just a little faster from the simple sight of you.

he was whipped.

“hey, you,” you greeted him at the doorway, practically bouncing on your feet as you crossed the room to greet him. he didn’t even have time to respond before you were pulling him into a hug, your arms wrapping around him so tightly that it almost knocked the wind out of him.

“good to see you, too,” jason muttered against your hair, the weight of the world fading just a bit as he let you hold him. you were always so eager to see him, always so open and trusting. it made him want to protect you more than anything.

when you pulled back slightly, he caught sight of something on the bed—something slightly out of place. he frowned for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing on the sight of the handle poking out from under your pillow. it looked like a gun.

his heart skipped, his training kicking in as his body automatically went on alert. it was instinctive, the way his hand almost reached out to pull the weapon from under the pillow. his mind raced through all the worst-case scenarios—who could have left it there? but then he saw you, beaming at him, unaware of what he was about to uncover. you hadn’t even noticed you’d forgotten to hide it.

“is that . . . ?” jason started, his voice trailing off as his gaze flickered from your face to the gun underneath your pillow.

your eyes followed his, and your expression shifted almost imperceptibly, the carefree smile fading into something a little more guarded. you hadn’t meant for him to find it, but you didn’t hide the truth from him either. you shrugged slightly, trying to make light of the situation.

“it’s nothing. just a little extra protection. you know how it is living here.”

jason’s frown deepened, and he gently pulled the gun from under the pillow, holding it with an experienced hand, inspecting it for a moment. it wasn’t just the glock that caught his attention—it was the knife sheathed near the bed and the taser within arm’s reach on the nightstand. a cold chill ran through him, and he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“you’re sleeping with this under your pillow?” he asked, the words barely above a whisper, gaze softening slightly but still filled with concern. his mind wasn’t on the weapon; it was on you. he had seen a lot in his life, but nothing had ever rattled him quite like this. he understood the need for protection in gotham—hell, he had lived that way his whole life—but seeing you so . . . prepared for something, it rattled him in a way he didn’t expect.

you met his gaze and let out a breath, looking at the weapon in his hands. the unease settled into your stomach, but you weren’t going to apologize for being cautious. gotham had taught you to trust your instincts, to never leave yourself vulnerable. you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the bed frame.

“i’m living in gotham, i’m not waiting until it’s too late when someone breaks in.”

his jaw clenched, a deep mix of emotions crossing his features. part of him understood the harsh reality of gotham, of living in a city where the line between life and death could be drawn in a heartbeat. but the other part of him—the part that had spent so much time seeing violence up close—couldn’t stand the idea of you being so weighed down by fear. he had never wanted you to feel like you had to live like this, constantly looking over your shoulder.

“baby,” jason said quietly, the term of endearment sounding strangely soft coming from his mouth, “i get it, okay? gotham . . . it’s dangerous. but you shouldn’t have to live like this, scared all the time. you don’t need to do this alone.”

he set the gun on the nightstand, his voice steady but his eyes filled with a rare tenderness. he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you both, and gently placed his hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his. you could see the concern in his eyes, the way his jaw was tense, but also the warmth and care that was always there when he looked at you. he wasn’t angry—he was worried. jason’s expression softened, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “let me take care of you.”

as he held you, he made a silent vow to himself that he would never let you feel like you had to live in fear again. he would do whatever it took to protect you—always.

[gammax-inspections]

The Silent Menace: How Welding Defects Can Compromise Structural Integrity

Welding is a critical process widely used in various industries, including construction, manufacturing, and automotive. While it is an essential technique for joining metal components, welding defects can pose a silent menace to structural integrity. In this article, we will explore the different types of welding defects, their impact on structural integrity, common causes, preventive measures, industry standards, the role of non-destructive testing (NDT), and real-life case studies to shed light on this critical issue.

Understanding Welding Defects

Welding defects refer to imperfections or irregularities that occur during the welding process, resulting in compromised joint strength and quality. These defects can manifest in various forms and have the potential to weaken the structural integrity of welded components.

Types of Welding Defects

There are several types of welding defects that can occur, including:

Porosity: Porosity refers to the presence of gas pockets within the weld metal, reducing its strength and load-bearing capacity.

Incomplete Fusion: This defect occurs when the weld metal does not fuse completely with the base metal, leading to weak joints.

Cracks: Cracks can develop in the weld due to excessive stress, inadequate cooling, or improper welding techniques.

Undercutting: Undercutting is the formation of grooves or depressions along the weld edges, resulting in reduced strength.

Distortion: Distortion refers to the deformation or warping of the welded component caused by uneven heating or cooling.

Impact of Welding Defects on Structural Integrity

Welding defects can have severe consequences on the structural integrity of welded joints and components. Understanding these impacts is crucial to prevent catastrophic failures and ensure the safety of structures and equipment.

Reduced Load-Bearing Capacity

Defective welds have lower strength compared to properly welded joints. This reduction in load-bearing capacity can compromise the overall structural integrity of welded components, leading to potential failures under stress or excessive loads.

Increased Vulnerability to Fatigue

Welding defects can create stress concentration points, making the welded joints more susceptible to fatigue failure. Fatigue failure occurs over time when repeated stress cycles weaken the weld, eventually resulting in cracks and fractures.

Potential for Cracks and Fractures

Welding defects, such as incomplete fusion or cracks, can initiate cracks within the weld or adjacent base metal. These cracks can propagate under load or cyclic stress, eventually leading to catastrophic fractures, compromising the structural integrity of the entire component.

Common Causes of Welding Defects

To address welding defects effectively, it is essential to identify their underlying causes. Several factors contribute to the occurrence of welding defects:

Inadequate Welding Techniques

Improper welding techniques, such as incorrect heat settings, incorrect electrode angle, or inadequate weld pool control, can result in welding defects. Lack of proper training and experience can lead to suboptimal welding practices.

Poor Welder Training and Skills

Insufficient knowledge, lack of training, or inadequate skills in welding can contribute to the occurrence of defects. Welders should receive comprehensive training and stay updated with the latest welding techniques and best practices.

Insufficient Quality Control Measures

Inadequate quality control measures, such as limited inspection and monitoring during the welding process, can allow defects to go unnoticed. Lack of quality assurance protocols and insufficient adherence to welding standards can contribute to the prevalence of defects.

Preventive Measures for Welding Defects

Addressing welding defects requires a proactive approach that encompasses various preventive measures:

Proper Welding Procedures

Following established welding procedures and techniques is crucial for minimizing defects. Welding procedures should be developed and documented, specifying parameters, materials, and techniques required for each welding application.

Skilled and Certified Welders

Employing skilled and certified welders ensures that welding tasks are performed by individuals with the necessary expertise. Certification programs and regular training help enhance welders' skills, ensuring high-quality workmanship.

Thorough Quality Assurance and Inspection

Implementing comprehensive quality assurance measures, including inspection plans, non-destructive testing (NDT), and weld monitoring, can significantly reduce the occurrence of defects. Regular inspections help identify potential issues early on, allowing for timely corrections.

Industry Standards and Regulations

To maintain welding quality and structural integrity, industries rely on established codes, standards, and regulations:

Welding Codes and Standards

International and national welding codes and standards provide guidelines for welding practices, inspection, and quality control. These codes ensure uniformity, safety, and quality in welding processes across industries.

Certification and Compliance Requirements

Industries often require welders, welding procedures, and welding equipment to meet specific certification and compliance requirements. Adhering to these requirements ensures that welding processes are conducted to established standards, reducing the risk of defects.

The Role of Non-Destructive Testing (NDT)

Non-destructive testing (NDT) plays a vital role in assessing weld quality without causing damage to the tested components. NDT techniques allow for the detection of defects and discontinuities that may compromise structural integrity.

Importance of NDT in Weld Inspection

NDT techniques, such as radiography, ultrasonic testing, magnetic particle testing, and visual inspection, can identify welding defects and evaluate their severity. By detecting defects early, appropriate corrective actions can be taken to ensure weld integrity.

Different NDT Techniques

Each NDT technique offers unique capabilities for inspecting welds. Radiography uses X-rays or gamma rays to examine internal defects, while ultrasonic testing employs sound waves to assess weld soundness. Magnetic particle testing detects surface cracks, and visual inspection provides a visual assessment of the weld quality.

Case Studies: Real-Life Examples of Welding Defects

To illustrate the significance of welding defect prevention, let's explore a few real-life case studies where welding defects compromised structural integrity:

The collapse of a steel bridge due to inadequate welds, resulting in tragic consequences.

A pressure vessel failure caused by welding cracks, leading to a hazardous release of a flammable substance.

Fatigue failure of a welded component in an offshore oil rig, causing substantial environmental damage and financial losses.

These examples highlight the critical importance of mitigating welding defects through proper welding techniques, quality control, and adherence to standards and regulations.

Conclusion

Welding defects pose a significant threat to structural integrity, with the potential for catastrophic consequences. By understanding the types of defects, their impact, common causes, and preventive measures, industries can take proactive steps to minimize defects and ensure the safety and reliability of welded structures and equipment.

Incorporating robust quality control measures, adhering to industry standards, and employing skilled welders can significantly reduce the occurrence of welding defects. Additionally, non-destructive testing plays a crucial role in identifying defects and evaluating weld integrity.

By prioritizing welding quality and defect prevention, industries can uphold structural integrity, mitigate risks, and safeguard human lives and valuable assets.

FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)

Q: Can welding defects be repaired? A: In some cases, welding defects can be repaired by removing the defective section and re-welding it using proper techniques and procedures. However, the extent of repair depends on the type and severity of the defect.

Q: How often should welding inspections be conducted? A: Welding inspections should be conducted regularly throughout the welding process, from pre-weld inspections to in-process and post-weld inspections. The frequency of inspections depends on the project requirements and industry standards.

Q: What is the role of a welding inspector? A: A welding inspector ensures compliance with welding procedures, standards, and quality control measures. They conduct inspections, perform tests, and verify that welds meet specified requirements.

Q: Are welding defects always visible to the naked eye? A: No, not all welding defects are visible to the naked eye. Some defects, such as internal cracks or porosity, may require non-destructive testing techniques to be detected.

Q: Can welding defects be prevented entirely? A: While it is challenging to prevent welding defects entirely, implementing proper welding procedures, quality control measures, and skilled welders can significantly minimize their occurrence and impact.

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

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

[thesaintofpatience]

for all the excellent meta going around about the nine houses and linguistics and cultural homogeneity and so on, I am still desperate for more wildly divergent linguistics between the Houses

holding out for fourth house rhyming slang and seventh house ironic double-verlan and ninth house sign language (for communicating via mute skeleton constructs across snow fields) and third house fan language and handkerchief codes

what slang terms do criminals use in the Dominicus system and where have they bled into common parlance? Likewise what Cohort slang has become commonplace in Second and Fourth that’s totally incomprehensible to the Sixth? What Latin phrases (“fiat lux!”) are a commonplace part of the Sixth vernacular, archaic but comprehensible to Eighth, mystifying to Third? Did Dulcie’s letters to Cam and Pal include glossaries and marginalia explaining synonyms and divergent definitions? Did they develop their own shared vernacular, tempering Sixth House academic prose with Seventh poetic styles, their own shared slang and inside jokes?

What John-isms are retained in the Fifth and Second House (I don’t even mean memes here I mean idioms like “dime a dozen” and “burning the midnight oil” and “snug as a bug in a rug” and “the ball’s in your court”) but not the others? Conversely, what new idioms and aphorisms confuse the hell out of John with each new Cohort intake? Has “needle in a haystack” been replaced with “hyoid in an ossuary” where hydroponic farming is the typical means of agriculture? Instead of “every cloud has a silver lining” is it “even rusty blades have an edge” where weather is no longer as notable an influence on day to day life?

Do they still give each other peace signs? Flip the bird? Stick two fingers up? Is crossing one’s fingers still a hope for good luck or a threat (indicating crossing swords)? Which Houses are known to talk with their hands (🤌)?

I could think about this all day but the main image I have is of Gideon doing this (👌- Ninth House sign language, emulates a skeleton’s eye socket: “I see you/acknowledged”) to, say, Babs (from Third where the same gesture, “the pinch”, emulates gathering of fabric and/or skin to test quality and fragility and is typically deemed a derogatory gesture) and starts an inter house diplomatic fracas

[dilftoru]

Do u have any dad!gojo thoughts to spare? 🥺 craving dad!content atm...

a/n: tbh, this has been in my drafts a while and is only half finished cause i can’t write smut for shit 😭 i don’t think it’s that good but i hope you like it 🤍

papa gojo who feels like a sick perv whenever he helps adjust your clothes.

you had always been a little air-headed, and you never grew out of it. some people were just flat out dumb. and unfortunately, his daughter was one of them. there wasn’t a single thought in your pretty little head, and as much as your daddy found it your most endearing quality, it was also the most frustrating.

you had not a care in the world with the way you presented yourself. it was always tight tops or short skirts with you, and your dumb brain never picked up on the lustful stares you’d receive from men when the two of you walked down the street.

the nerve of those creeps to look at his baby girl like that when he was standing right beside her . . . he could tell you to stop dressing like that outside the house, to only allow it at home where he’d be the one admiring you. but he knew how much you loved expressing yourself through your style and how you insisted that you needed to look cute at all times.

thankfully, he rarely ever let you go out without him. he could only imagine what would happen if his princess were caught alone — he could just kill them all if they looked at you the wrong way . . .

what made it difficult, however, was that you had absolutely no sense of self-preservation, especially around your father. the pout you give him is dangerous, innocently asking for help to tug up your tube top cause daddy had strong hands and your boobs were just too heavy, making it ride down all the time. he’d do it swiftly with minimal effort and you’d squeal, realizing how efficient it is to just have him do it for you from now on.

or like the times the two of you are out in public and you’d bend over in the smallest skirt to pick up something you dropped. daddy was always standing right behind you though, his pelvis hovering just inches away from your crotch so no disgusting creep peeps at his daughter’s skimpy, pink panties — he wouldn’t take a peak either, of course — that he only allowed you to buy cause he was incapable of saying no.

and then it happens once in the small and cramped dressing room at the mall. you call out to him for help, having a hard time clipping on a new bra, bending over as per usual like the clutz you are when the hanger slips from your hands.

the changing space is small as is, an enclosed area with a long body length mirror on one wall and a small, black, cushioned seat to sit when trying on shoes.

he could only gasp as you keel over, hands flying to your waist when your cunt presses directly on his bulge. you wiggle to reach the item that accidentally landed under the short bench, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure to his crotch and he heaves out a stuttered choking sound, looking down at your form with wide eyes behind his dark shades.

“sorry, daddy!”, you whine obliviously from down below. but his muddled brain could barely process it, eyes rolling back at the sensation of your chubby cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock through the layers of fabric, as if it was meant to be there.

his hips buck into yours on its own accord, and you let out a small, surprised shriek, almost tumbling forward in the restricted space if not for the tight grip on your waist. hands that were once occupied with searching for the hanger were now scrambling to clutch onto the low seat in front of you.

your head shoots up to look at your dad in the mirror. as if he was waiting, both of your eyes meet and you take notice of his flushed face.

“d-daddy wha—”

he interrupts you before you can finish, grinding his cock — testing out the overwhelming feeling — into the seat of your panties, hard. a squeak leaves your lips, a shaky hand reaching back and you aren’t sure for what exactly.

there’s a certain gleam in his eyes. daddy’s looked at you like that numerous times in the past, but it would be gone as soon as it came.

now you think you have an idea of what it could mean . . .

[atlabstextilepvtltd]

Atlabs Textiles Pvt Ltd is a one of the Leading Testing Service in Tamilnadu.

Website Name: https://www.atlabs.in

Email ID: info@atlabs.in

Mobile Number: +91 96291 32555

[frudoo]

Your new Baker!Simon AU has me hooked! 🤩😊 Retired!Ghost baking away in the comfort of his home, just needing something to improve his lil’ therapy-inspired business… someone like Food-Photographer!Reader ;) You gotta tell me how absolutely OVERBOARD he goes with the dessert(s) when they schedule their first meet up. Pleeeaaaseeee?

I’m obsessed!!! ^-^ Can’t wait to hear anything else you come up with, dear Writer! Thank you for being you 🫡

Much love, keep yourself happy ‘n’ healthy and get Simon some more dough (Get it? Money = dough? But also dough ‘cause he’s a baker? Hahah. Hah…)! <3

Changed it up a bit 😉

Previous

Warnings: Body image issues, mentions of therapy.

Simon is up to his elbows in baked goods. There’s no room on the kitchen island for the tray of espresso-flavored macarons he just prepared, so he has to set them on the coffee table in his living room. On the overcrowded counter is an array of cupcakes of various flavors—chocolate, cookie butter, ube (Kyle made him try the flavor when the 141 went to the Philippines for a trip and he fell absolutely in love), all arranged on separate platters that match their color. Each treat is decorated with perfect swirls of buttercream or topped with shiny luster dust.

He can’t remember the last time he’d baked so much. Maybe it was Price’s retirement party? Honestly, he doesn’t remember much of that night, but boy does he remember the morning after. Simon can recall how he got every single scar on his broad body, but not one of those painful experiences even scratches the surface of that fucking hangover. Nevertheless, it’s been a long, long time since he’s baked so many sweets. He didn’t even eat breakfast before he started working, and that was… six hours ago? Bloody hell, how is it already nearly time?

One look at the clock and Simon is scrambling to get dressed—jeans that hang low on his waist and a simple black tee. Both fabrics stretch around the muscles he’s maintained despite the growing layer of fat around his belly. He pats his torso as he looks at himself in the mirror, cleft lip scrunched up in distaste. Maybe he should lay off of all those “quality control” taste tests. He doesn’t have much time to think about it before his doorbell rings.

God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been so nervous in his life. Not through the amount of times he’s looked death right in the eye, not when his father would come clunking home absolutely hammered, not when he held Johnny’s hand to keep him awake and alert after Makarov shot him right in the temple. But you, this sweet, pretty girl who’s coming to see him—not even for a date!—has his fingers fidgeting and his heart racing in his chest. He sucks in a deep breath and counts to three, just like his therapist taught him, then opens the door.

Simon knows he’s in for it the moment he sees you look up at him in awe, trying to hide your shock with a crooked smile. Pretty round cheeks and a soft body—he’s doing his best not to look at the dip where your blouse exposes your cleavage—and plush lips that he’s dying to feel against his own. Fuck.

“I- uh… Simon? I-I’m here about the- um. My treats. Your treats! My camer- pictures! I’m here to take pictures of your… treats.”

The man can practically see the mental faceplant you just gave yourself, and for some reason, it calms his nerves. You’re human, and you’re real, and you’re beautiful. And you’re waiting for him to invite you in.

“Pleasure. C’mon in, jus’ mind the… er. The clutter.”

Simon opens the door wider and you thank him softly, gasping when you see the amount of goodies all over his kitchen and even overflowing into the living room. There must be at least a hundred cupcakes and a few dozen macarons. It stuns you for a second but his gentle hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality. You clear your throat and smile up at him.

“You really went all out!” You giggle a bit and Simon’s heart just about leaps out of his chest—he shrugs.

“Ligh’ work,” he jokes.

You’re embarrassed by the snort that slips out of you, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide, but Simon thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to snap out of it. This is business. Simon runs a hand through his slightly overgrown hair sheepishly, gesturing towards the camera that hangs by a strap on your neck.

“Oh, r-right. Did you wanna be in the photos? Get you a nice new profile picture?” You ask with a grin, carefully slipping past him to examine his work more closely. “People typically like to know the face of the person they’re ordering from.”

Simon bites the inside of his cheek, debating. The military instilled such a strict rule in him. He never posts his face out of fear someone from his past will come knocking down his door to carry out a vendetta. He was thorough in his SAS days, never allowing himself to be caught without the infamous Ghost mask, but regardless, he deems it too much of a risk. He’s thankful you seem to understand his hesitation.

“We could do a picture of you holding up a tray so it’s just your chest and arms? I could crop your face out, or we don’t have to include you in it at all. It’s up to you.”

Too fucking sweet for your own good.

“Chest ‘n’ arms’ll be fine, love,” he grunts finally, offering you a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you look back to nod at him before grabbing the camera from around your neck. “Where do you wanna start?”

“Wha’ever’s easiest f’you,” Simon hums, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to watch as you twist and turn every confectionary to find the best angle.

You’re quiet when you’re focused. The only sounds he can hear are the shutters of the camera snapping a picture or your footsteps as you step around the counter to capture every little feature of the whimsical delicacies. It’s odd. Simon doesn’t mind quiet—prefers it most of the time—but he can’t help but crave the sound of your voice explaining to him every single thought going through your head. He blames it on curiosity.

It takes all of twenty minutes for you to get every picture you need of his confections, with varying angles and lighting changes. You walk over to him and go through the photos, explaining every little detail you loved or why you changed up the order of things for a particular shot. Simon nods in approval—he genuinely could not tell the difference between most of them, but like hell he’s going to tell you that, not when you’re this close, looking up at him with that sweet, hopeful smile.

“Looks perfect t’me,” he breathes, giving you a soft pat on the back.

“Thank you,” you sniffle. “So… did you still wanna do that profile picture?”

“I- er, tha’s fine. Where d’ya need me?”

“Right over… here!” You gently grab him by his bicep and pull him to where there’s a blank wall and a good amount of light.

Simon stands in place like a studious muse while you rearrange some of his treats on one of his circular platters. You place the tallest cupcakes near the back, the smaller ones in the middle, then position the macarons in a way that showcases both their shiny tops and the perfect bake he got on them. Cautiously, you grab the tray and take it over to him.

“Here, hold it just- yeah, just like that. Perfect.”

You bite your lip when you carefully maneuver his arms into a position where the light captures the depth of his faded tattoos and prickling veins—you convince yourself it’s to give the picture more personality. Simon’s just glad that his face won’t be visible. He’s praying right now that you don’t notice how fucking red he’s gotten just from your delicate touches and the way you stare at his arms and chest. It makes him feel insecure and as a result he sucks in his belly. His heart skips a beat when you frown.

“Don’t do that,” you whisper, hesitating before lightly placing your hand on his stomach to encourage him to relax. “Looks better like this.”

In less than ten words—far fewer than his therapist has spoken over the past few years, fewer than every single uplifting word he’s written in his journals—you’ve managed to silence the unrest in his head that tells him he’s not good enough, if only just for a few moments. His breath hitches in his throat as you step back to take a final picture. Satisfied, you take the platter from his hands and set it aside, giving him a shy grin.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“No, don’t apologize. I, uh… I needed tha’. Thank you,” his voice trails off as he looks down at you.

You nod shortly, sucking in a deep breath. He’s so close and it makes you dizzy.

“Right. I guess I’ll head out, and as soon as I get the pictures edited, I’ll send them to you?” You bite your lip and Simon has to resist the urge to lean in and take a nip for himself.

“Oh, please, take some o’this. I don’t know wha’ t’do w’all of it,” he scratches the back of his neck timidly.

Taking one last quick look around his house, you hum thoughtfully.

“I have an idea.”

[diymetalfabrication]

New Automatic Shop Air Filtration Unit With Built In Air Quality Monitor - Unboxing And Testing!

Today we unbox and test the Abestorm DecDust 1,100CFM shop air filtration system in my 30×48′ pole barn shop! I do a little bit of everything in this shop from woodworking to welding, painting, 3d printing, and more. Sometimes it gets pretty smoky and smelly in the shop. In the winter it sucks to open the window when it is 20 degrees outside, so hopefully this helps clear the air some while I am…

[celuere]

reader buying new lipstick and testing it out on arlecchino!!!

(except it’s by sucking her off <33)

also will you start writing for ptn? I LOVE ZOYA SO MUCH SOBS

anon it‘s 6:30 am but i can’t possibly go to bed without answering this. i‘m thirsting for sesbian lex. (i have to see about ptn tho sob)

cw: fem!reader, CONSENSUAL, deepthroating, sloppy headjob, dacryphilia, masturbating, a lil obsessive arle (she just loves seeing her wife struggle taking her dick)

„mhm… just like that… my, look at your pretty lips…“, a black hand gently stroked through your open hair before getting a good grip on the strands.

you looked so beautiful in her eyes.

not because of the pretty dress you were wearing to tonight. the deep red fabric clinging to your gorgeous curves and highlighting your cleavage almost a bit too much for her liking.

or because of the beautiful tears staining the corner of your eyes, the eyeshadow you applied earlier already smeared.

but you always looked like your most beautiful self when your mouth was full of her cock. she just couldn’t resist letting you have a taste when she got a first look on your make up for the evening.

all because of that lipstick.

the bloody red had faded away long ago. the color now sticking to the skin around her base along with her shaft. not of very high quality if you‘re asking her.

„so pretty… all on your knees for me… what are those beautiful tears for, hm…?“, she scooped up the salty fluid with her index finger before bringing it up to her lips. tongue lapping over her skin as she hums at the taste of your current predicament.

your dress surely was ruined by now with how you were practically drooling over her dick with each thrust of her hips forcing some of the saliva-precum mix out of your mouth. you could feel your chin dripping with the mixture.

groaning slightly against her as her tip kissed the back of your throat once more before inching further in, you couldn’t help but gag at her sheer size. but she kept you over her dick. kept herself neatly buried in your warm throat as something akin to obsession glistened in your husbands crimson eyes.

she will never get tired of this. never get tired of the way your nose crinkles slightly whenever it reached her bush. never get tired of your soft gags and the muffled sobs leaving your lips. never get tired of that pleading look in your eyes as she pushes herself inside your throat once more. you‘d have to kill her in order to remove her dick from you.

you actually had places to be. pantalone would be hosting an auction tonight and as his fellow colleague… who were the knave to decline his invitation? but now she had her wife all sobby and obedient on her knees for her, with your mixed slick covering yout gorgeous tits. she‘ll take that over an evening filled with idiotic smalltalk and greedy businessmen any day.

one of arlecchinos rare smirks tugged almost mockingly at her lips as she watched you struggle to take her all in. and don’t think she didn’t notice how your own hand already sneaked between your legs. she knows exactly you’re fingering yourself right now. she just doesn’t know yet if she should punish your for it.

you squeezed your eyes closed as the grip on your hair suddenly tightened as you heard a low groan escaping your husband and soon the salty, bitter taste of her spread on your tongue as she pulled out from your throat. starting to cough as you swallowed the not so delicious mixture, a cursed hand soon squeezed your face and forced you to look back up into those bloody x‘s practically burning through you.

„open up. i want to make sure you swallowed everything.“, tapping your cheek with her nail you ran your tongue over your front teeth before reluctantly parting your lips. an almost pleased sound slipping out faster than you could have stopped it from how desperately your were clenching around your own fingers.

„i said open up and not moan into my face.“, she pushed her thumb into your mouth to force your jaw completely open before inspecting your mouth for any remains of her.

„good girl.“, obviously pleased with the results, your husband now let go of you and leaned over to your make-up desk.

you finally allowed yourself to fill your lungs back up with the oxygen you so desperately craved for, „d-done now…?“

„done?“, she bent back down to you when you spotted a light pink lipstick in her hand. she caught your chin between her finger and you could have sworn she almost looked excited as she painted your lips in said color, „this brand obviously wasn’t of high quality. i fear we have to try out the other ones until we find one that actually lasts. truly a pity, don’t you think so, my little dove…?“

you just wanted to open your mouth to talk back but she shushed you by tapping your plump lips with her dripping tip.

„open.“