eduson-youngest

[plywood-strength]

Plywood strength:

Do laminates enhance the appealing feel of plywood?

Combining laminates with plywood is crucial in furniture manufacturing, where the trend leans towards textured surfaces, thanks to digital printing technology. These laminates, including those with acoustic properties, add both visual appeal and sound management to interiors. These qualities correlated with characteristics such as moisture resistance and thickness.

Plywood finds applications for various purposes such as

Roofing and flooring of houses and commercial work

Construction material

Space shipping and aviation For more info: https://chopra-group.com/ct-trading-co/plywoods.php

[dinasobuildingsupply]

Plywood Sheets in Construction: A Budget-Friendly Solution for Stunning Interior Design.

When it comes to interior design, plywood sheets are widely used for construction for both residential and commercial areas. For years wood has been fulfilling internal design requirements. Now when people need design solutions that match their needs and are also budget-friendly, they shift their attention towards more durable engineered wood products with the same useful properties as wood.

[woodindustries]

IBAIS MEDIA - WOODEN

[chimcum]

The Enigma [II]

Synopsis: You are his everything. He breathes for you, lives for you, kills for you. Genre: strangers to lovers au, smut Characters: foreigner readerx native jk

You

The bustling hall symphonized sight and sound, the cacophony of it was a sensory overload. Students hurried past obligating to their job. Warm white lightings illuminate the surroundings, the glossy mahogany plywood reflecting the rays in all directions.

Professors and in-charges barked commands, motioning the poor juniors in various directions. Chairs and tables were arranged on the stage , bouquets of flowers placed on them beside each placard.

Small plastic bottles laid on tables near the walls, the cool condensing on their surface, leaving droplets of water behind.

Picking one from the table, I unscrewed the cap, the seal yielding to the gentle pressure of my fingers left a satisfying a pop. Bringing the bottle's opening to my lips, I chug the water down, the icy liquid numbing my insides.

Detaching the bottle away, I inhale a long mouthy breathe, relieving my teeth. Leaning my rear side on table edge, folding my right arm on my front, placing my left elbow on it, I sipped the water leisurely.

Glancing around the hall, I peer at each moving thing, taking in the atmosphere.

Medallions and title badges were meticulously being placed in trays. Carrying out the task with a smile across her lips, the young girl, possibly a freshie, really seemed overjoyed.

Her cautious actions, seemingly calm, having a frantic manner of their own, perhaps overwhelmed with the responsibility of such prestige.

The feeling of revulsion churns within my stomach, like a dark cloud it persists over me, raining down judgmental thoughts even though I fight to maintain a neutral perspective.

Taking pride in holding other's achievement?

Averting my gaze, I try not to entertain the thought again, but my conscience as always crawls back to the negativity.

"오, 진짜? 몰랐어. 그럼 많이 놓치겠네."

A deep voice echoes near me, drifting in my direction pulling me out of my trance, the face of the voice pretty known to me.

Dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, he holds a hard disk under his black coat with one hand and a cellphone to his ear with the other.

Sending me a cute smile, he waves his hand in the air, the device greeting me before his hand could, his trailing voice a familiar chime in among all.

Unfolding my arms, I place the used bottle back on the table, mentally noting to throw it right away after this.

Sliding his phone into his pockets, shifting his complete attention on me, the guy extends his palm out infront, gesturing for a handshake.

Clasping his palm in mine, I once again get reminded about his size. His fingers engulf my small(er) palm while I barely manage to get a hold of his.

"Was definitely not expecting you." remarking in a smug tone, he lets go of my palm, my fingers involuntarily clenching into a fist.

"Yeah I am sure you did not." I respond in a sarcastic tone, "But you know, I like disappointing people."

He reciprocates my shrug with a cheeky nod, chuckling at the act.

His voice trails in my ears as he continues the conversation while I try to savor the visual infront of me with the utmost subtlety.

His hair, slicked back with gel, gleamed under the soft light. A silver chain, its links glinting, adorned his wrist. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of his toned chest. He was a vision of masculine perfection, a masterpiece crafted by the gods themselves.

I snap out of my frenzy of thoughts, a sudden pitched voice calling out a name brings our conversation to a halt.

"Namjoon!!"

A girl his age appears out of the blue, her shriek voice paining my eardrums as she continues to interact with him, her actions best categorized as annoying atleast by me.

Jungkook

Aiming the ball at the rack of balls in the storage area, focusing my vision, overlooking the huge distance I purposely widened, I threw the ball with all my last strength and bingo!

Seeing the basketball coach approaching me, his hands busy clapping as words of appreciation left his mouth, praising my shot, I walked upto him closing half of the distance in between to not bother him taking more steps.

"Great shot Jeon!!", he praised, hands coming up to pat me on the back making me retreat, not wanting him to have touch my all sweaty back.

"It's fine my boy, I have been a sports person too. There's no problem in appreciating my captain's great game." his palm came in contact with my left bicep nonetheless, patting the skin with pride and praise.

His rough voice and appreciative tone continued as he reminded about the upcoming national university basketball match, the qualified teams, and how it was necessary for us to win.

"The upcoming match is a big deal for us, we are the only ones worthy for the win. We have to bring the trophy home Jeon. We can not miss this." he amplified, hands offering me my handtowel, holding onto the water bottle with other.

"I know sir, I promise to not let you down. I will bring the trophy home.", I affirmed, conforming to his command as I wiped the sweat off of my face, taking the head band off.

Nodding at my response with a confident smile on his face, he strolled around, his walk having the hint of a limp as he approached other team mates.

"Let's freshen up! We have to attend the seminar as well. Only an hour is left before our phones start ringing to no shit.", Taehyung peeked, seating down on the bench nearby, drying the sweat off of his hair.

"Yeah I thought so too, let's go your place. I don't want to shower in the locker rooms today. They must be reeking by now.", rolling my eyes back as I spoke, my voice gagging, disgust evident on my face.

Nodding in agreement to my suggestion, "Yeah. Let's just change into tracks and get the hell out of here. I can't bear the sweat any longer. Gosh I can wait to jump in the shower holy mother," standing up from his seat, he tossed the towel back in his bag before pulling out the tracks.

The cold water drips down from the showerhead, washing away all the sweat and dirt, the low temperature of water creating a dense mist that obliterates the view of the tiles and glass.

The sound of the water falling is soothing as I comb my hair back with my fingers and rub my face. The earlier shivering now fades away, my body accustoming to the cold water.

Cleansing myself for the last time, I step out of the shower, grabbing the towel nearby before wrapping it around my waist.

Peering at my reflection in the mirror, flexing my muscles a couple of times, I check myself out.

Lathering a generous amount of moisturizer on my skin, my skin absorbing the foam, I sprayed the sweet dark musk perfume on my neck, the fragrance leaving a heavy and sensual atmosphere around.

The scent birthing a thought about a certain wooden rose fragrance as I looked down, the shining colored glass only fueling the sensuality in the air.

The evocation of the thought moved my head upwards, my eyes scanning over my own features in the mirror with an unsettling gaze.

Shaking my head side to side, physically dismissing the thought, I untangled the clothe around my waist to dress up, not wanting to waste any time.

Chugging the cold juice down my throat, I pushed another glass infront offering the guy as he stepped out of his own room, hands occupied with his own hair.

Taehyung picked the glass up from the table before muttering a thank you, walking past me to open the fridge to take the strawberries out.

Strawberries.

"Ahg... have some, these ones are really good, Minnie bought these..", Minnie, his girlfriend, had a real sweet tooth.

Picking one out of the basket, bringing my hands near my mouth, I bite onto the red gem, the sweetness melting like ice into my mouth, my eyes closing on their own.

"These are really good, where did she get these from?," I inquired as I took another bite of the berry, my tongue not wanting the taste to fade away.

"I don't know, but I'll let you know" he answered as he placed the basket down, going back to the fridge.

Placing two cold water bottles on the counter in front, he reminded " Let's hurry up before they get started with their shit, I don't want them to even ring my phone" stating in a flat tone, he expressed his displease for the poor council students who were simply obligated to do so.

"Yeah, let's go."

Stepping inside the lobby, we were engulfed in the buzz of activity. Constant moving of students here and there, some carrying huge boxes, others just walking by, some volunteering, some enjoying their drinks in hand, some leaving their classrooms, some just causing chaos.

We walked towards the elevator, eliminating the option for stairs, to not bother our already spent legs.

Pressing the ground floor button, patiently waiting, I looked around just to have a tea and remembrance of the people passing by.

Pinging of the elevator indicated it's arrival, making me turn back straight as we boarded inside.

Another ping sounds in the machine after a few seconds, the elevator doors open revealing the second floor. The particular space out of the whole campus was the most crowded, reason: A Honoring Ceremony For The Achievers Of The University.

Disregarding the piling soreness inside me, I careened in the forward direction, mindful not to collide with someone in the way.

A sudden wave of vibration erupts through my pockets, making me pull my phone out of the space.

"Dong-jae"

Sliding the toggle towards right, I placed the phone next to ear, my head turning sides to look around.

"Turn right, then look straight", the guy on the phone speaks as I followed his directions.

Waving his phone in the air, gesturing me to reach upto him, there stood Dong-Jae in his usual, black fit, his face mirroring my disinterest.

Brushing past a few people on the way, I adjust my position, shifting my weight back and forth to avoid any mishaps.

Suddenly, my steps halt in their trance, my body going all stiff. Waves of shock and surprise come crashing down on me as I try to process the past few seconds.

An unexpected physical interaction, a mere nudge of shoulders, sent chills running down my spine, the electric touch spreading through my chest.

A hypnotizing aroma of deep wooden rose scent lingering in the air slides into my olfactory senses, my eyes going saucer wide recalling the face that wore the scent.

Her.

Jerking my head around, my body moving as if a reflex, my face in the direction a certain someone might have gone.

Engaged in a conversation with the student council president, hands holding onto the hard disk, my front facing her side. The familiar aroma of wooden rose, carried by the cool air around, confirmed my suspicions.

It was her.

"Jeon!!", a sudden forceful shove, aimed at my back, jolted me forward, "You deaf or what?", the two guys flanking around me, one clearly more pissed than other, spoke in unison.

"Huh?", snapping out of frenzy, my voice tumbling as I spoke, my confused reaction doing little to no help improving the expressions on either of their faces.

Letting out a pair of indignant huffs , Dong-Jae shook his head at me, grabbing me by elbows to drag me inside, beside me walked Taehyung, seeming unfazed by the play.

Looking straight ahead, I spot the young woman entering the hall, stopping for a moment near the barricaded ribbons to get her ID checked.

Her raven hair, seeming shoulder length from my spot, moved in a soft motion from side to side, her hands coming up to her face to rake the strands aside.

The knot in my stomach grows again as I blink my eyes without a halt, moving eyeballs to sides to clear my vision. A flurry of thoughts emerge in my head, the core of all: Why is she here?

'She is a student here as well', the thought disrupts the growing tension in my head, my hearts races as I eye her hands on the table, the blue strap of the ID card wrapped around on her wrist affirming to my conclusion.

[bethanythebogwitch]

It's big, it's strong, its scaly, it's this week's Wet Beast Wednesday topic! An arapaima, also known as a pirarucu or paiche, is any of four species of fish in the genus Arapaima in the order of bony-tongued fish. There is som ongoing debate about the classification of the species, so to keep thing simple, I'm going to use the most common species names of Arapaima gigas (the type species and most well known, and the one with the most confusion about its classification), Arapaima agassizii, Arapaima leptosoma, and Arapaima mapae. Because A. gigas is the most well-studied of the species, unless I say otherwise you can assume everything I say in this post applies to it.

(image: an arapaima)

Arapaimas are bony fish that retain several primitive traits, causing them to sometimes be identified as "living fossils". They are most notable for their size, with A. gigas being a contender for the largest freshwater fish in the world. The maximum recorded size for one was 3.7 meters (10 ft) and 200 kg (400 lbs), but most get to around 2 meters (6.6 ft) long and 200 kg (440 lbs). That average length is decreasing as overfishing of the largest individuals is resulting in a selective pressure for smaller sizes. In addition to their size, they are extremely strong and can move fast if needed. Arapaima are fully capable of leaping out of the water if disturbed or they feel their current pond in unsuitable. Because of their strength, specimens in captivity must be handled with care as they can easy break bones if they slap someone. They live in rivers and lakes in South America, where they are often the top predators.

(image: several anglers with an arapaima)

Arapaimas are obligate air-breathers and will drown if they can't get to the surface to breathe. This is accomplished with a specialized swim bladder. The swim bladder is filled with highly vascularized tissue, letting it act like a lung. This pseudo-lung opens into the mouth using a modified gill arch known as the labyrinth organ. Arapaima gills are too small to sustain them, but they can supplement their oxygen intake with the gills. Juveniles are born exclusively using their gills and transition into air-breathers shortly after hatching. Arapaimas can survive up to a full day out of the water. They typically surface to gulp in air every 15-20 minutes. Breathing makes a loud gulping sound that anglers use to target them.

(image: an arapaima at the surface)

Because of their ability to breathe air, arapaimas are top predators in low-oxygen environments. Non-air breathing fish are forced to slow down in water with low levels of dissolved oxygen as they can't get enough oxygen through their gills. Since Arapaimas breathe air, they can easily chase down lethargic smaller fish. They are especially potent predators during the low season, when water levels lower. A combination of rotting vegetation reducing oxygen levels and ponds getting cut off from rivers and losing a supply of oxygen lets the arapaima reign supreme. Arapaimas are primarily predators that feed on smaller fish, though they will hunt other types of animals and eat fruits and seeds. Even land animals aren't safe as arapaimas have been known to launch themselves out of the water to catch animals near the shore. A combination of sharp teeth and their bony tongues are used to debilitate prey.

(image: an arapaima with its mouth open)

Not content with powerleveling their attack stat, arapaimas also have excellent defense. Their scales have been compared to bullet proof vests. Each has a hard, mineralized outer layer over multiple layers of collagen fibers. These layers are all oriented at an angle to each other to provide extra strength. This orientation of layers is called a Bouligand-type arrangement and is similar to how plywood is assembled. The harder outer layers and flexible inner layers work together to allow for both strength and flexibility. These scales help provide protection form large predators such as caiman and small threats like biting piranha. They also like provide protection from other arapaima, as the fish are aggressive and will fight each other.

(image: a diagram showing the composition of arapaima scales. source)

You probably wouldn't expect a swimming tank of an animal to be a good parent, but you'd be wrong. Arapaimas work together in mated pairs to build nests for their eggs, then cooperate to guard the nest. Once the eggs hatch, the male will practice mouth brooding, keeping his young safe in his mouth. The female will also help by patrolling the area around the male to ward off predators. They secrete pheromones from their heads to ensure the young don't swim too far away. Eggs are laid either in in the low season or as water levels are starting to rise, ensuring that the young become independent during the high season.

(Image: baby arapaimas)

Arapaima are classified as "data deficient" by the IUCN. This means there isn't enough data to properly assess their conservation needs. They are known to be threatened by overfishing. Arapaima make up a large part of the diet of many South American populations. Habitat loss and pollution are also believed to threaten them. They have been introduced to many areas out of their native range and are an invasive species in placed like Florida, Malaysia, and India.

Does anyone else remember these cards? (image: the arapaima card from Weird n' Wild Creatures)

[nuitnotions2]

{ simon riley x gn reader ; no gendered terms ; 18 + MINORS + AGELESS ACCOUNTS DNI ; smut ; penetrative sex ; public sex }

Simon “Ghost” Riley isn’t usually so impulsive.

For certain, he has his moments. Moments he usually reflects much too deeply on in the silence of another dark, sleepless night, body pressed to a mattress with a stillness that aches away at his joints. It’s the repercussions, whether immediate or unforeseeable, they hound at him and eat at wisps of him he barely has left to offer as it is.

So, for this very reason, he remains level headed and puts a great deal of thought into his actions. Hyper conscious to a fault, but it is what get his heavy bones through the day and allows him to close his eyes without the whirring of why the fuck did you do that?

But he is only just a man. And he is so well acquainted to the weaknesses of a man.

You are one such weakness to him in particular, but don’t be mistaken, the rounded corners and pillowy softness of you between his ribs is not a fault of yours. Fuck, it’s not a fault of his either. You’re only just teaching this man a new definition of weakness.

This definition includes footnotes of having you ride his cock ragged in the locked stall of a public bathroom across the library you frequent. There are detonations of him staring you down as you peruse the shelves for a particular title to contribute to your research moments before. Parenthesised notes on how the narrowing of your eyes and scrunch of your eyebrows tightened his abs painfully and ran his breath heavy. Phonetic spelling having rounded out his lips when you rose onto the balls of your feet, reaching and returning volumes to their rightful positions, drawing a groan out of him when you glared at him when Simon dared to offer assistance.

He fully blames the lack of attention you've given him for the past two and a half hours. It's the neglect, he reasons with himself as he moans low into the crook of your clammy neck, hands biting into the flesh of your hips that help you to grind your warmth down onto his starving cock. Had you just spared him a look at those pretty eyes, or the brush of your soft skin, he would not have resorted to dragging you into this suboptimal stall. He's so sorry too, he breathes apologies onto the shell of your ear when his hips buck up into you, thighs working hard to get him as deep inside of you as possible to quell the attachment issues that fray away his mind.

"Forgive me, love" rumbles against your back when you have no choice but to spread out your arms straight to flatten your palms against pressed wooden walls for balance, whining around the throbbing girth of him, embarrassment as hot in your face as in your walls milking him.

He's a brute, so incredibly mean and inconsiderate for doing this to you, is what you cry out between in the saliva pooling in your cheeks. Simon agrees with eyes rolled back, nodding his head as he lifts the both of you off of the closed toilet seat to press you flat against a door that will not withstand his force.

A bastard he is, for mashing the side of your face against the lacquered plywood, has you sobbing between clenched teeth when he lifts you off of the ground, a strong forearm pressing into your middle and the other sliding between your legs to play with the mess the two of you have collaborated on.

He's a fucking animal for you, he tells you when four heimlich strength thrusts has his cum breaking the seal of his cock in you, plopping audibly to the dirty floor.

And then your fucking animal of a lover is kissing every expanse of skin his neck can crane to reach, dropping words of reverence bracketing his apologies as large hands smooth at your hair, brush at your pulse points and dress you gingerly. Simon is on his knees now, looking up at you with pleading eyes as he fixes the elastic band of your underwear before tugging your pants back into place. Deft, meaty fingers pull up the zipper as he lays his cheek against your chest with a heavy loaded sigh.

He checks the state of your clothes, hot palms trying their best to smooth out wrinkles, fingers tugging at seams and then brushing all over you with a final apology.

"Took my pain away so good, you lovely thing. Have mercy on a man, will you?"

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

1968 Wood, Hot Metal, and Gasoline: The Improbable Marcos 1600 GT

It’s easy to deride the Marcos, but its “plywood” is more akin to a state-of-the-art composite technology. Wood in cars? The mind goes to the faux wood paneling on

the left tasteful Chrisler production of the early 1990s, or the anachronistic Morgan Roadsters. But the Marcos 1600 GT is much different than either of those applications. And it owes a lot to one of the greatest warplanes of all time: The de Haviland Mosquito, which relied heavily on plywood construction.

Yes, plywood. We think of it as a cheap material, maybe even an inferior one, and certainly not something that has any place in a sports car. But use it correctly, and plywood's limited weight and incredible strength do wonders. Think of it as a composite material: You can alter the aspects that make up its structure to change its characteristics—the wood type, the number of plies, the orientation—just like you can with fiberglass or carbon fiber, which can be made of different weaves or molded using different techniques. And like those materials, it's impressively strong for its weight (especially at the time of the Mosquito and Marcos).

You won't be surprised at all to learn that the aerodynamicist and co-founder of Marcos, Frank Costin, worked as an engineer on the Mosquito as a during the war.

The brand is the first king, the Xilon (Greek for "wood") used plywood chassis construction (the car was remarkably ugly, too), and the GT was a further development of these techniques. The body is constructed of fiberglass and supported by the wooden chassis, which gives the car a rigid structure that's lightweight—it's about 1,800 lbs—and strong. Consider the issues that Colin Chapman had with the very advanced Lotus Elite, an all-fiberglass monocoque road

car that suffered from some notable failures. The hybrid construction of the Marcos, on the other hand, proved remarkably durable.

And to be very clear about the comparison to the Morgan roadster, the Marcos GT's chassis is plywood, whereas the Morgan has a steel chassis and an ash-framed body. Later Marcos GTs, however, used a steel chassis that had some issues. Notably rust. As such, steel-chassis Marcos are far less desirable among fans of these little sports cars.

This particular car, powered by a Ford Kent crossflow inline-four that's been bored to 1.7 liters. Power is sent to the rear wheels via a four-speed manual transmission and a 3.73:1 differential.

Sources: motortrend.com ; classic.com ; wikipedia.org ; autoevolution.com

[harrisonarchive]

Forest Hills Tennis Stadium, NYC, August 28, 1964: fan Mary Smith vs. the police. (Both?) photos by Dan Godfrey/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images.

“During the Beatles’ performance, screaming, crying girls and boys tried to storm through the policemen and the barricades set up on the plywood floor that covered the tennis courts. Others closer to the front tested the wits and strength of some one hundred and fifty policemen and one hundred security guards who spread around the stage. About fifty youngsters burst through but were carried away, screaming. […] One girl made it up to the stage, ran to George and grabbed him in a hug, hanging onto his neck, as he struggled to keep up with the song. He hit the wrong note. She fainted and was carried off.�� - Beatles ’64: A Hard Day’s Night in America (1989) “The one last night got George, and he had, I could hear all wrong notes coming out, he was trying to carry on playing, y’know. With a girl hanging ‘round his neck—it was funny.” - John Lennon, interview with Larry Kane, 1964 “She emerged from the rear, took the stage with bare feet, and she hugged George. The Beatles stopped playing and stared in wonderment until police intervened, leaving their positions unguarded. She said, ‘I had to see George. It’s very complicated but I had to talk to him about something, and I wanted to make sure to see him.’” - foresthillsstadium.com “Once we arrived, the whole scene obliterated any other thought other than... Oh My God, THE BEATLES! I’d never been to any event remotely as large or as charged with electric anticipation. […] Maybe the most amazing thing about the screaming: except for just a few moments, when either Paul or John was introducing the next song, the screaming simply never ever abated or even ebbed and flowed. It was a constant roar. In fact, after a while, you could almost ignore it. I know that my acclimated ears heard more of the last three songs than the first three, for sure. Maybe even some of George’s lead guitar.” - Binky Philips (fan), Huffington Post, August 24, 2010

[angelpuns]

Something really neat about living on a farm with like 3-4 generations of a family is that you get hand me down bed frames. And they're uncomfortable and you always need a box spring, but they're SOLID WOOD. They're durable asf.

Anyway I've been suffering general body aches for the last two years cause of the condition of my bed/mattress among other things ( both hand me downs, durable but the MF box spring HURTS) and I also more recently had a footboard, which meant I couldn't have my fan at the end of the bed which means I'm fucking hot all the time. I eventually see a daybed at a local antique store. Immediately want. Its perfect, fits the vibe of my room, immaculate. FAN ACCESSIBLE WHICH IS SO IMPORTANT. Turns out my grandma has one that isn't 'probably haunted' and costs 0 dollars and maybe a couple of hours of labor. So 2-3 hours of taking beds apart, transporting, putting em back together, I have a daybed. Yay. Dream come true. And this shit is so comfortable. Its amazing. no box spring needed I sleep like a baby, for the most part. Mental issues aside.

Anyway TODAY IT FUCKING BROKE. BECAUSE ITS NOT WELL MADE AND I AM A FAT DUDE OK. Whatever no big deal put it back together and plan to get some plywood as some extra strength but ITS no big deal

Well it is now 4 am and considering I work the longest shifts this week I have worked in a while, the wood has become number one priority CAUSE THAT SHIT BROKE AGAIN WHEN I WAS LAYING ON IT. RAGHH.

Morale of the story and the tldr is this particular bed is shit and I should have bought the almost definitely haunted antique daybed :)

[callsignfate]

Personal Exile Pt. 2

(Thank you, everyone, for asking for part two! Here it is. I had planned to post it earlier, but I hated a little bit of it and rewrote like half of it. No use of Y/N or R/N. Tw: mention of death, war, talk of death. You are ex-military. No major character death.)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

You quickly realized that saving the little girl had placed a target on your back. Men shadowed your every move, following you silently everywhere you went for days. You pretended to be oblivious to their presence, going about your daily routines in Las Almas as if they weren't there, biding your time.

The woman's voice, the one you had encountered during the rescue, still echoed in your mind. "You will pay your debts to El Sin Nombre." She had to be high up in the cartel, if not El Sin Nombre herself. Her confident, domineering demeanor had left an impression on you.

As you continued to ignore the relentless surveillance, one day, strong arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you into a narrow alleyway. You reacted swiftly, using whatever cheap tactics were necessary to break free. The man who had grabbed you groaned in pain as you bent his arm behind his back and pressed your gun to his spine. Three other men watched cautiously as you held the man as a human shield, your pistol concealed in your other hand.

"Are you the supposed debt collectors?" You muttered out with an amused cocky tone. A front you'd put up for now.

Your defiant words hung in the air, unanswered. The Silence persisted, and it seemed these men didn't speak English or chose not to respond. You eventually released the man, shoving him toward the group, and turned to leave. You had bluffed with an empty gun; the last two bullets had been spent on their comrades days earlier. You couldn't afford to reveal your weapon was empty.

However, as you reached the end of the alleyway, you found yourself confronted by another group of men who blocked your escape. They approached you with their arms outstretched, surrounding you. It appeared they wanted to play it this way. You were outnumbered and overpowered, your defiance seemingly futile.

"Well, might as well go out fighting, right?" You announced defiantly, charging at the men blocking your path. They grabbed hold of you, attempting to restrain your flailing. Your punches grew wild and unaimed as you fought fiercely to break free.

Your fist struck one man's nose, causing him to stagger backward. Your feet kicked hard in every direction, struggling against their attempts to hold you. You nearly broke free before they began working together to subdue you. Your punches landed heavily, and you fought relentlessly, but your strength waned as they lifted you off the ground in a coordinated effort. Moments later, they threw you into a van and slammed the sliding door shut.

Inside the van, you found a cold, steel interior, with bars and plywood covering the walls. The ride was rough and bumpy, making you feel every jolt and bump. Bloodstains, stubborn and dried, marked the metal and wood surfaces. After what felt like an eternity, the van came to a sudden stop, causing you to nearly lose your balance.

The van's door slid open abruptly, and two men stood outside, guns aimed directly at you. You knew your defiance had to be kept to a minimum now. "Get out, slowly," they ordered with gruff voices, and you complied, raising your hands.

"El Sin Nombre wants to speak to you," one of the men stated, more like an order than an offer.

"I bet he does," you muttered with an air of cockiness and defiance. "I'd love to tell him his men aren't great at kidnapping or defending themselves." You followed the man walking ahead of you while the other stayed behind, prodding you with the gun barrel.

They led you through a beautifully decorated house adorned with plants and pictures lining the walls. The elegant carpet guided you through seemingly endless halls. For a brief moment, you appreciated the beauty around you. However, you couldn't forget the grim circumstances you were in, being taken to meet El Sin Nombre, the leader of a dangerous cartel.

Finally, they opened a door and pushed you inside, their hands rough as they closed the door behind you. The woman with the green vest and the same cocky smirk from your previous encounter sat confidently at a desk. Her eyes scrutinized you as she looked you over, attempting to read your thoughts.

"You worsened your debts, breaking ribs and noses of my men," she said, assessing you.

"Ah, well, if they hadn't tried to kidnap me, I would have gone willingly," you responded, maintaining a defiant and cocky demeanor. "El Sin Nombre is a woman, I'm not surprised. Men couldn't have run it this dangerously well. Of course, El Sin Nombre would be a conniving woman." Your words seemed to amuse her as she pointed at you and smiled.

"I've seen plenty of men run their mouths to me and die, yet they had fear in their eyes. You don't. It makes sense since you're ex-military. They've long driven your fear of death away," she remarked.

"And here I stand in front of El Sin Nombre, apparently owing her a debt. The world is cruel, I'd say almost as much as you." You leaned against the wall, arms folded across your chest, and glanced around El Sin Nombre's office with an air of indifference. The room was filled with various decorations and photographs, a stark contrast to the dangerous world you had been thrust into. You couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment, as if you were about to be a pawn in a game far beyond your control.

The woman behind the desk maintained her confident and cocky demeanor, seemingly unfazed by your defiance. Her eyes remained fixed on you, as if she were trying to decipher your thoughts.

"Well, the world will smother you out like a small flame if you don't grow. You grow or you die." Her words echoed in the room, a stark reminder of the harsh reality you had come to understand through your experiences. You had indeed seen the world for what it was, a place where power, money, and violence often dictated the course of events. Working for a government with the highest military spending exposed you to the brutal underbelly of geopolitics.

"Yea well, I already know how the world works," you replied, bored and uninterested in hearing about the harsh realities of life. You were well aware of how cruel the world could be. You couldn't help but acknowledge the truth in her statement. Survival in this world often requires adaptation, even if it means making uneasy alliances or compromises. It was a world where one had to choose between growth or annihilation, and you had no intention of letting yourself be snuffed out like a small flame.

"Maybe you need to be told how I work. You killed two of my men and injured four. I'll make you a deal. I'll treat you better than the military, and you do what they were supposed to," she offered, her tone still confident and arrogant. She leaned back in her chair, folding her hands together.

"That's not much of a deal," you countered with a shrug, aware that your options were limited.

"It is because it's that or you die. It's a threat, not an order, and it still stands. I'll pay you for it, don't worry," she responded with an empty laugh, throwing your words back at you.

"Fine," you agreed, acknowledging that you had little choice in the matter. You knew that crossing El Sin Nombre could be a death sentence, and your chances of escaping Las Almas alive were dwindling.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

[dinasobuildingsupply]

We are the largest distributor of top-of-the-line high-strength engineered lumber products with prompt delivery options. Our experienced team at Dinaso Building Supply helps you to customize the products depending on your specific construction requirements to ensure 100% customer satisfaction.

[quiisquiliae]

Morning all, hurricane update from your local Florida cryptid. I passed out in my kid's bed last night with him and woke up to a migraine and about 15 messages and no doubt I'm gonna miss a few.

Hence, a post.

1. We are currently ok, assuming we aren't taking into consideration our sanity.

2. I still have no idea if we are evacuating or not. While I'm concerned about flooding, I am NOT worried about my apartment being directly impacted, at least not severely. We would need it to rise 4-6 inches higher than it did for Debbie for it to affect our home and this is why we have sandbags for our back door. They will be put down today.

3. The biggest concern I have is the wind. We are unable to board up our apartment cuz renting, and also we don't have plywood (or anywhere to store it when not in use). Currently Milton HAS decreased it's strength (thank fucking god) but I'm still unconvinced it'll go down to a cat 3 which is what I'm comfortable riding out.

4. If we do evacuate it will be to my parents house 20 mins away (they have their house securely boarded up and its on a hill). I can take back roads almost the whole way, so traffic isn't a huge concern. I know the interstate is bumper to bumper with people trying to get the hell out.

5. Cats are coming with me if I go, that was non negotiable with my parents.

I'm treating this as if we are leaving, and preparing the house as such (collectibles and fragile things are put away for example) but honestly I'm leaning a little more toward staying. I'll make a post later once we decide for sure.

@daughterofhighever-blog @chasindtrevelyan @lathal @pellelavellan @tevintersnakes I know y'all messaged me, I'm probably missing a few.

[ralfmaximus]

You realize it’s been over a year since your last eye exam so you take advantage of a coupon for $50 exams at this new place that just opened.

You call the number on the coupon and a rough, heavily Russian voice answers.

“Eye Exam.”

“Yes, I’d like to make an appointment to get my eyes checked?”

Moments pass. You hear typing on a keyboard, a pause while the typist takes a long deep drag from a cigarette. More typing. Just as you are about to ask if everything is okay the Russian returns.

“Appointment is made.”

Click. The phone goes dead. Frantic redials to the same number are met with constant ringing – no answer -- thereafter. You give up after a few minutes.

You feel unsettled, worried. Vaguely threatened. You wonder if you should call the police. But… what would you tell them?

Days pass without incident. Soon you forget about the strange call. You make an appointment with LensCrafters for next Thursday at 6pm, after work.

It is 2:10 am that very night the Russians come for you.

You are woken from a deep sleep by a rough hand covering your mouth, muffling any screams. His other hand surrounding your wrist. You jolt awake, heart pounding, legs thrashing but they are prepared for that – another man leans in on the bed and presses his weight onto you, grasping the other wrist with unyielding strength. Defeated, you sag.

The first man leans in close, eyes searching yours. He nods. It is understood you will not scream if released.

“Time for eye appointment, da?”

You nod slowly. Both men let go. You sit up, but before you can get a really good look at them the second Russian produces a black sack and cinches it over your head. It smells faintly of onions.

You are lifted from your bed effortlessly and marched, blind, still in your night clothes, out of your bedroom. There is a brief pause in your living room during which one of your captors makes a phone call. But it is only twenty seconds of rapid-fire Russian and you are led out of your apartment and downstairs into a waiting van. The floor is cold metal and you feel flecks of rust under your bare feet as you are forced down into a sitting position in one corner.

The van drives for 45 minutes.

When the doors open again, you smell salt water and rust. You are lifted and dragged. Your legs are an explosion of crawling pins-and-needles, useless for the time being, scraping across the metal floor and then cold concrete outside the van. You scream but are shaken to silence.

The first Russian leans in close and says, through the hood, “Shut up. Do not speak. You will see many things, but do not speak.”

Your legs slowly come alive and soon you are able to stand as the men lead you forward over concrete and then a wooden ramp, leading up to what feels like tile under your bare feet. The place reeks of diesel oil, fried fish, salt water, and gym socks. Eventually you are led into a place of carpeting and air conditioning and the smells diminish a bit – or perhaps you are becoming used to them.

You are forced into a chair as the hood is whipped off.

Before you, on a table made from a plywood sheet and two saw-horses, is a spanking new Charops CRK-1P autorefractor machine, all smooth curves and sleek plastic. Behind it, on the floor you can see the carton it was unpacked from: plastic sheets, white foam inserts, and pink packing peanuts piled into the empty box. A single pink packing peanut clings to the machine via static electricity.

A hand shoves you from behind.

“Look in machine,” you are told.

You lean forward and press your head against the black forehead bar, triggering the machine. It shows you letters, numbers, images of balloons floating in 3D. You respond to grunted questions about what you see and the clarity of images.

Click! The session ends, the viewer goes dark. A hand yanks your shoulder back and the hood goes on again. Onions and darkness. You are dragged to your feet and led to another room, another makeshift table, another machine.

This happens twice more.

By the third reapplication of the hood (onions, darkness, and now, sweat) you have become numb to the routine. You have always been on a Russian cargo ship, you have always been taking tests, you have always been yanked around by monosyllabic Russians.

Therefore it is a surprise when you are dragged into the same van as before and shoved back into your familiar corner. The van door slides shut again, and the engine revs.

45 minutes later you are back home, standing in your apartment.

The hood comes off for a final time, revealing your original Russian abductor. He holds out his hand: “$100 dollars please.”

You stand there, blinking. Unbelievable.

“What? $100 for what?”

He scowls at you. “Eye exam. $100 for eye exam. Pay now.” He glances meaningfully at his waiting palm.

“I don’t think—“

He rolls this eyes at this, pushes you aside and grabs your wallet off the coffee table behind you.

“Hey! That’s—“

Your wallet is tiny in his huge hands, but with surprising delicacy he extracts two twenties and a ten -- all the cash you have -- holds them up to you accusingly. He does not look amused.

“I, uh… have a coupon.”

He frowns, tasting the word. “Coupon? Coupon. Coupon…”

Further digging in your wallet and he produces the EYE EXAM $50 coupon that started this whole mess. He sighs in defeat, pockets the cash and throws the coupon & wallet back onto the table. Turns to go.

“Wait!”

The Russian stops, turns. Glares at you. This better be important.

“My prescription?”

For the first time, he smiles. A goofy, eye-rolling, head-smacking D’oh! of a smile. Reaches with massive, filthy fingers into a front pants pocket and produces a crumpled sheet of folded copier paper. Throws it at your feet.

“Eye exam,” he nods before leaving your life forever.

[sad-outsider]

I just want to share my opinion expressed in response to a review of my work:

Commentator: In my opinion, the book!Mal never accepted Alina entirely; he always preferred her to the girl from his childhood, an ordinary person. And he either rejected or denied the hypostasis of the Sun Summoner, at the subconscious level as well. In the end, if there is a happy ending, it’s only for Mal))

Me: Oh God, yes, yes and yes again! When I read the books, I couldn’t help but think that the main character was not Alina, but Mal, and not in a good way. He got away with everything and even his “great sacrifice” ended up only benefiting him. Essentially, he only lost his extraordinary abilities, but he could still learn to track like an ordinary person, unlike poor Alina, who literally lost an integral part of herself! Alina, dear, you deserved better than a guy who couldn’t accept all of you!

Commentator: The serial Mal seems to be better (to please the writers), but the problems are still the same, only in a softened format

Me: Better, but and show!Aleksander is cute compared to the book! Aleksander, and Mal is a piece of plywood in the show…

Commentator: The Darkling skillfully retained both General and Aleksander within himself for 600 years, even if he carefully hid the second from others. He could teach Alina the path of psychological balance, for example, through such a beautiful scene Such “lessons” were necessary for Alina - after all, she did not have 6 hundred years of life experience behind her, and she found herself deprived of “her Baghra” at the beginning of her journey. She never received them. As a result, Alina did not fully accept herself, and the loss of strength and setback is a very convenient ending)

Me: I love when Darkles mentors Alina - she learns to be a Sun Summoner, and he, on the contrary, remembers what it means to be Aleksander, that’s the kind of dynamic they should have! "You can make me a better man," "And you can make me a monster" That's the point, Alina. You must COMPLETE each other! What's the end result? Disappointment… By God, it would be better if Mal remained dead and Alina married Nikolai!

Commentator: Your work, in turn, gives hints at another ending, where Aleksander will become a support for Alina, and the Darkling - for the Sun Summoner, but that’s a completely different story… 😄

Me: Yes, in my version of the story this couple has a different ending, and the ending of book 3 does not exist😑

[gabontimberindustry]

Can Okoume Face Veneer Be Used for Both Interior and Exterior Applications?

When it comes to choosing the right wood veneer for projects, few options are as versatile and visually appealing as Okoume face veneer. Known for its unique blend of strength, beauty, and flexibility, Okoume is a popular choice for a range of applications. But one question often comes up: can Okoume face veneer be used for both interior and exterior applications? Let’s dive in and explore everything you need to know about this unique veneer, how it can fit into different spaces, and whether it’s suitable for outdoor use.

Understanding Okoume Face Veneer: A Unique Choice

Okoume veneer, sourced primarily from Gabon, is cherished worldwide for its distinctive look and adaptability. Known for its light pinkish-brown hue, fine grain, and smooth texture, Okoume can add an elegant touch to furniture, cabinetry, walls, and more. Its appeal doesn’t stop at aesthetics. Okoume is also prized for its:

Lightweight nature – It’s much lighter than other hardwoods, making it easy to work with.

Durability – Okoume face veneer is highly durable, which is why it’s often used in marine plywood and exterior-grade products.

Flexibility – Because it’s easy to manipulate, it’s often used in furniture making and construction projects that require intricate designs.

The question remains: can this beautiful veneer withstand both interior and exterior environments? The answer isn’t black and white, so let’s look at the factors that come into play.

Is Okoume Face Veneer Suitable for Interior Use?

For interior applications, Okoume veneer is a top choice. Its visual appeal alone is enough to make it desirable for indoor furniture and decorative projects. The light color and fine grain bring a touch of elegance to any space, whether it’s a cozy living room, a sleek kitchen, or a luxurious office.

Benefits of Using Okoume Veneer Indoors

Aesthetically Versatile: Its warm tones and soft grain pattern make it versatile for various design styles, from traditional to contemporary.

Moisture Control: When used indoors, Okoume face veneer is shielded from constant exposure to moisture, which keeps it from warping, swelling, or cracking over time.

Long-lasting Durability: Indoors, Okoume veneer can easily maintain its appearance for years with minimal upkeep, especially if it’s properly sealed and polished.

Ease of Application: Okoume veneer is easy to cut, shape, and finish, making it ideal for designers, woodworkers, and homeowners who want to create unique pieces with a soft yet luxurious finish.

Cost-Effective and Eco-Friendly: Compared to solid wood options, veneer provides a sustainable and cost-effective choice. Since veneer is a thin layer of wood, it uses less timber, reducing environmental impact without compromising quality.

Given these benefits, it’s no wonder that Okoume veneer is widely used for interior elements like furniture, wall panels, cabinets, and ceilings. Its versatility and light color make it easy to match with other materials, from metals to darker woods. But what happens when Okoume veneer is taken outdoors?

Okoume Face Veneer in Exterior Applications: What to Consider

Okoume face veneer can, in certain situations, be used for exterior applications. However, using it outside requires a bit more planning, care, and protection due to its natural properties. Here’s what to consider if you’re thinking about using Okoume veneer for outdoor projects.

Why Okoume Veneer Needs Extra Protection Outdoors

While Okoume veneer is durable, it’s still a natural wood product, and wood is prone to weathering from moisture, sunlight, and temperature fluctuations. Okoume doesn’t have the same level of natural resistance to the elements as some other hardwoods, like teak or ipe, which means it needs to be treated and maintained to stand up to the outdoors.

Tips for Using Okoume Veneer Outdoors

If you’re set on using Okoume face veneer in an outdoor project, there are ways to make it work effectively:

Choose High-Quality Marine-Grade Okoume Plywood: For exterior applications, Okoume plywood is a better choice than standard veneer. Marine-grade Okoume plywood is made specifically for outdoor use and can handle more moisture and temperature changes than untreated veneer alone. It’s often used in boat building for this very reason.

Apply a High-Quality Sealant: Coating Okoume veneer with a top-grade sealant is essential. This helps shield it from moisture and UV rays, reducing the risk of warping, cracking, or discoloration. Some sealants also offer UV protection, which will slow down the color fading and keep the veneer looking fresh.

Routine Maintenance: Unlike interior wood, outdoor Okoume veneer needs regular maintenance. Reapplying the sealant every year or two can extend its life and keep it looking its best.

Consider Shaded Areas: If you’re using Okoume veneer in an area that’s exposed to direct sunlight, expect some color fading over time. Placing the veneer in a shaded or covered area can help preserve its natural color longer and reduce wear from sun exposure.

Opt for a Protective Finish: Adding a protective finish over the veneer not only adds an extra layer of defense but can also bring out its natural beauty. Certain finishes can enhance the wood’s grain and color, giving it a polished look suitable for outdoor décor and even outdoor furniture.

Ideal Exterior Uses for Okoume Veneer

With the right precautions, Okoume veneer can work for certain outdoor applications, such as:

Patio and Garden Furniture: Okoume veneer can add an elegant touch to patio furniture. Just ensure it’s sealed properly, and it’s in a shaded spot.

Covered Pergolas or Gazebos: These covered structures offer some natural protection from the elements, making them ideal for Okoume veneer. It can be used to create decorative wall panels, cabinets, or seating elements.

Decorative Fascia: Using Okoume veneer for decorative exterior elements, like fascia or trim, can add a touch of sophistication to the outdoor look without exposing it to high amounts of moisture or sunlight.

Okoume Veneer: A Flexible and Elegant Choice for Both Indoors and Outdoors

So, can Okoume face veneer be used for both interior and exterior applications? The answer is yes—with some preparation. It’s a versatile and beautiful material that brings elegance to indoor spaces and, with the right treatment, can handle certain outdoor applications too. For those who value aesthetic appeal and are willing to take extra precautions for exterior use, Okoume veneer is a worthy choice.

When used indoors, Okoume face veneer shines as a beautiful, low-maintenance material. Its warm color and fine grain make it a favorite among interior designers, homeowners, and craftsmen. Outdoors, it requires a bit more attention to maintain its beauty, but the effort can be worth it if you’re looking for a wood product that brings style to your exterior.

Making the Right Choice with Gabon Timber Industry

At Gabon Timber Industry, we understand the unique properties of Okoume and other African woods, and we’re here to help you make the right choice for your projects. Whether you’re building stunning interiors or want to add a unique touch to your outdoor space, our team can guide you on selecting, treating, and maintaining Okoume veneer to get the best results. Quality, sustainability, and customer satisfaction are at the core of what we do.

So, if you’re considering Okoume face veneer for your next project, reach out to us! Whether it’s for interiors or for exterior elements, we have the expertise and products to help bring your vision to life with Gabon’s finest timber.

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