#thrust nozzle

[sw5w]

Senatorial Decoy

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:19

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

Soyuz Exhaust

Here, a Soyuz rocket takes off in 2023, carrying three of the Expedition 70 crew to the International Space Station. This initial stage of the Soyuz launch vehicle uses four identical rocket boosters lashed around the second stage core.  (Image credit: NASA) Read the full article

[kply-industries]

Vectored thrust nozzles can do some wild things now, and I do not like it.

[rowarn]

cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited

simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.

imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.

at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.

but something is different this time.

he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.

you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement

you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.

he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.

"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.

soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.

your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 

the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.

he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.

"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."

his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.

your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.

simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.

and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.

so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.

his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.

you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.

his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.

there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.

simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.

the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.

simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.

he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3

[wesley-marvel-humiliation]

Sissy Babyslave Sale Preparations

My tummy maxed out from bottle after bottle over the past hour, thinking my feeding is finally over, bloated beyond capacity only to have Mommy’s two busting full nipples waiting to be emptied.

Big, full and soft, already dripping as she presses them against my lips, regardless of where I am and who’s watching. I want to try and resist but the hypno and conditioning takes over and just cant help but suck, feeling my belly creak as it expands just that little bit more.

Forced into a docile state and unable to move because of the bloating, the rest of the permanent baby procedure can move forward without any fuss or fight. 

Once strapped to the changing table my pampers would get untapped and chastity cage would get unlocked.

A smaller chastity cage would be produced from Mommy’s purse…Along with quick dry cement.

The key is broken and sealed inside the tiny cage's lock. Mommy then grabs a huge bulging enema bag covered in tons of soapy suds attached to Uncle Nozzle, a huge hollow dildo shaped enema nozzle. 

My already full tummy is going to be made even more full?! I’m already looking like i’m about to have a baby myself.

Lubed up and easily slipped into my bottom, the nozzle is twirled and pumped in and out so the condom that was placed over my new tiny chastity cage catching my milking fills up nicely. This will be added to my bedtime bottle later after I’ve been allowed to empty my tummy into my thick diapers.

Finally with enough twirling and long thrusts, I have a last and FINAL caged spurt. Immediately after Mommy shouts “She’s ready!” And a big naked man with a throbbing cock walks in from the other room.

The man pulls my head back to lean off my changing table and as he plunges into my throat Mommy releases the enema bag clip causing a torrent of bubbles and warm liquid to fill my lower half.

I moan muffled cries of agony as I get filled and filled. The man lasting much longer than the enema finally pulls out keeping the tip of his member in my mouth so I have no choice but to taste and swallow every bit of his load as it erupts over and over.

Uncle Nozzle is removed slowly and then replaced with my 10 inch long, lifelike, girthy dildo named Daddy. My pampers get tapped back on and another larger diaper is added on top.

Mommy dresses me in my tight footed sleeper and locks the zipper in the back before locking each of my limbs down in my crib for naptime.

The feeding tube is attached to my pacifier gag, and my milking from Uncle Nozzle is poured into the bag followed by whatever mystery mixture Mommy decided to give me. The clip is released so it slowly fills my mouth.

With all the baby monitors mounted in the nursery, everything is live-streamed online for all to see. As the cramps give way to a very messy diaper the bidding for a babyslave starts.

Hundreds of viewers watching me writhe, listening to me whimper, waiting for my loud messy "BLORT" to signal the start of their bidding.

[absdoll]

hi bee!!! requesting anything to do with gym!abby fjshfjsjsn ily

nonnie u get me <3 ilysm hope u enjoy

also sorry not sorry this is so long ??? i’m just painfully horny & i daydream about shower sex with sweaty gym!abby oops spoiler ok ok love u byeeeeeeee ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ♡

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who walks in the door of the common area, mouth hung open and panting from her run. she had a heavy lift, it was leg day, and she finds that running afterwards helps to soothe her freshly toned quads.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who immediately notices you eyeing her up and down, a smirk forming on her face. she stands there, hands on her hips, still trying to catch her breath, sweat beading down her forehead.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who makes it a point to lock her gaze on yours, watching you as you watch her walk to the showers. she raises an eyebrow at you, and you take it as your cue to follow.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who shuts the door behind you, still not losing that stupid cocky grin. she wraps her big calloused hand over the faucet’s nozzle, turning it all the way to the left, the hottest temperature.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is slowly peeling her form fitting muscle tee off, leaving her in her black sports bra. her thick thumbs slide under the band of her sweatpants as she kicks them off, along with her boxers. the air in the room getting hotter and hotter, it’s becoming harder to see through the steam. yet, you can still feel the blonde’s piercing stare on you.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who sits on the bench in front of you, you now standing between her legs. “you’re gonna wanna take all this off soon, gettin’ hot pretty quick in here.” she flirts, tugging at your shorts, and eyeing your busty tank top.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby trails your every move as you remove your cute, tight, pink shorts. her fingertips ever so lightly graze up your thigh, barely making contact with your skin. “now this.” she breathes, indicating you to get rid of your shirt, “just take it all off.”

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who is shamelessly staring at your naked body, still not touching you. the slick between where you’re craving her, so desperately, starts to fall down your leg, landing on abby’s bare thigh. her attention darts down to your sweet drip, looking back up at you with the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby presses a kiss to your stomach before standing up and shoving you back into the shower. hot, scorching water assaulting your skin. “ow!” you hiss.

₊˚⊹⋆ post gym!abby who frowns at you, mockingly, walking closer to you until your back is firmly pressed against the cold tiled wall. resting her forehead on yours, she hikes your leg up to wrap around her waist. “deep breath.” she whispers in your ear.

abby’s rough fingers slide up your folds, purposely avoiding your pulsing bundle of nerves. she brings her hand to your lips, running her thumb across your bottom pout. within a split second, her steady grasp is firm on your jaw, “open up.” to please her, you lay your tongue out flat, doe eyed as she prepares her spit to drip onto your pink muscle.

“good girl, now swallow.” her hand now back down at your heated center, other arm resting on the wall above your head. without warning, her thick fingers plunge into you, causing you to gasp and tighten around her. she doesn’t move an inch. making you squirm and whine as you become more and more desperate.

“p-please!” you manage to cry out, which of course, makes abby smirk. “please what baby? what do you need?” she coos as you buck your hips, praying for some friction. “please fuck m-“ before you could even finish begging, abby thrusts her fingers into your squelching cunt as fast she can. pulling almost all the way out and then forcefully shoving back in, making you yelp as she curls inside of you. your soft small hands wrap around her hard biceps, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“what do you need pretty? tell me. keep telling me. you need me to keep fucking this sweet pussy?” you moan at her dirty words draped in her soft tone. “y-yes! ‘mmm so wet f-f ughghh fory-ouu! fuhh- oh mgod f-fuck me!” your pleads make abby’s thrusts faster and harder, as if that were possible, you clench around her relentless movements, nearing your peak.

your white gush beginning to drip onto abby’s palm, she rubs circles on your puffed up clit, your nails digging moons into her shoulders. “mm ‘m gonna c-cum mm!” as your milky cream coats abby’s fingers, she drops to her knees, attaching her mouth to your throbbing nub. keeping her pace inside of you, her lips blowing cool air and circling her tongue to catch all your juices.

abby laps up every last drop before licking one last stripe up your pussy, causing you to collapse on her chest.

“let’s get you cleaned up.” she breathes, adjusting the water to a colder setting.

a/n : if u hate this don’t tell me <3 i’m definitely gonna reread this in a few days & think it’s bad ／(˃ᆺ˂)＼ but whatvr ghdbdjsj

[nasa]

Rockets, Racecars, and the Physics of Going Fast

When our Space Launch System (SLS) rocket launches the Artemis missions to the Moon, it can have a top speed of more than six miles per second. Rockets and racecars are designed with speed in mind to accomplish their missions—but there’s more to speed than just engines and fuel. Learn more about the physics of going fast:

Take a look under the hood, so to speak, of our SLS mega Moon rocket and you’ll find that each of its four RS-25 engines have high-pressure turbopumps that generate a combined 94,400 horsepower per engine. All that horsepower creates more than 2 million pounds of thrust to help launch our four Artemis astronauts inside the Orion spacecraft beyond Earth orbit and onward to the Moon. How does that horsepower compare to a racecar? World champion racecars can generate more than 1,000 horsepower as they speed around the track.

As these vehicles start their engines, a series of special machinery is moving and grooving inside those engines. Turbo engines in racecars work at up to 15,000 rotations per minute, aka rpm. The turbopumps on the RS-25 engines rotate at a staggering 37,000 rpm. SLS’s RS-25 engines will burn for approximately eight minutes, while racecar engines generally run for 1 ½-3 hours during a race.

To use that power effectively, both rockets and racecars are designed to slice through the air as efficiently as possible.

While rockets want to eliminate as much drag as possible, racecars carefully use the air they’re slicing through to keep them pinned to the track and speed around corners faster. This phenomenon is called downforce.

Steering these mighty machines is a delicate process that involves complex mechanics.

Most racecars use a rack-and-pinion system to convert the turn of a steering wheel to precisely point the front tires in the right direction. While SLS doesn’t have a steering wheel, its powerful engines and solid rocket boosters do have nozzles that gimbal, or move, to better direct the force of the thrust during launch and flight.

Racecar drivers and astronauts are laser focused, keeping their sights set on the destination. Pit crews and launch control teams both analyze data from numerous sensors and computers to guide them to the finish line. In the case of our mighty SLS rocket, its 212-foot-tall core stage has nearly 1,000 sensors to help fly, track, and guide the rocket on the right trajectory and at the right speed. That same data is relayed to launch teams on the ground in real time. Like SLS, world-champion racecars use hundreds of sensors to help drivers and teams manage the race and perform at peak levels.

Knowing how to best use, manage, and battle the physics of going fast, is critical in that final lap. You can learn more about rockets and racecars here.

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

[crimsonbubble]

Ok you wanna know my horny thoughts? I want Midas Fortnite to turn my insides golden. I just know the tip is gold. I have needed him carnally since I first saw him. One chance Midas please

cw. nsfw, gn!reader, creampies, office sex, light gun play *not proofread, just pure horny

[HES SO KLVFDNSUOGVSH IM GONNA SHAKE HIM LIKE A MARRACA]

It didn't feel real.

Your mind is too floaty to understand the gravity of your current situation fully. It's wet, hot and messy. Midas’ chest is heaving with each harsh intake of air, his golden hands resting on your hips.

Your knees have gone numb a while ago but it doesn't matter when Midas is the one who’s lifting and guiding your hips over his. Your arms are resting on his shoulders as Midas moves your hips for you.

His hands were cold, in contrast to your heated skin. His low groans were slowly turning into laboured moans muffled against your neck. His office was the best and the worst spot to have sex, but his desires got the better of him.

He can’t help himself when you’re prancing around in your fitted clothes, moving from one task to another like it was nothing. His lips found yours again, swallowing down each hiccuped moan you let out. You helplessly grind yourself into him, shuddering as his tip presses into your sweet spots.

Midas grunts, standing up abruptly. He places you on his desk after swiping the papers off of it. His hands clutch at your thighs, holding you open as he relentlessly thrusts his aching cock into your tight heat.

You blindly hold onto the edge of his desk, letting him push and pull you to his whims. With a harsh knock on his office door to interrupt the harsh sounds of skin on skin and moans, Midas lets out an annoyed groan.

Without missing a beat, he steadily takes the recoil from firing a bullet into his door. The bang made you jolt, clenching around his dick even tighter. Midas trails the now warm barrel of his gun down your body; from your cheek to your lips, to your neck and stomach, letting the nozzle of his pistol rest below your belly button.

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. No one will bother us for a little while longer.”

[ghuleh-witch]

Fandom: Ghost Rating: Explicit Warnings: Food play, NSFW, 18+ only, oral sex, blow-job Relationships: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x GN!Reader Additional Tags: established relationship, gender-neutral reader pov Word Count: 841 Summary: You and Copia have some fun with some whipped cream. Ao3 || Masterlist

“Goddamnit!”

Your ears perked up when you heard Copia swear from the kitchen. It was a rare Friday night you both had free and decided to spend it together watching movies and enjoying each other's company. You got off the couch and made your way into the other room where Copia was trying to spray the cream out of a Reddi-Wip can onto mugs of hot chocolate. 

“Out?” You asked, opening the fridge and reaching for the second can you put in there that morning after grocery shopping.

“I thought I’d have enough to finish both our mugs,” he said before tossing the empty can into the trash bin. When he turned back around you were holding the new can out to him. “Thank you, amore” 

You watched him open the spray can and squirt a dollop of cream onto the steaming mug. He then lifted the can to his lips and sprayed the whipped cream into his mouth to eat.  “Mmmmm. Sorry, this took longer than it needed to,” he said handing you the can back to return to the refrigerator. 

“It’s fine,” you said looking at the bit of cream clinging to his lip. “You know…we could have some fun with this.”

“Hmm?”

You smirked and swiped the tiny bit of cream from his lip before licking it off your finger. Your eyes flicked back to him and he was staring, mouth agape. “What?” You asked innocently before stepping in front of him, crowding him back against the counter.

“‘What’ you ask after that little display. What did you have in mind, amore?” He asked, eyes darkening.

You hummed in response, sinking onto your knees as your hands came to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Let me worry about that,�� you purr as he tugged his pants down just enough to free his hardening cock. Your fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him a couple of times while looking up at him.

He was staring down at you, mouth parted in a silent moan as his hand came to your hair. “Feels good,” he said, his breath hitched. 

You leaned forward, licking your way up along his length and making him shudder. “I can make it sweeter.”

“Huh?” He questioned, looking down at you as you reached for the whipped cream. 

You gave the can a couple of shakes before pressing the nozzle and spraying a line of cream along his cock. 

“Amore!” He gasped, shuddering from the chill and silkiness of the cream.

“What?” You feigned innocence as you looked up at him. “Want me to clean it up?”

His eyes seemed to darken more as his fingers curled in your hair. “Yes.”

“Of course, Papa,” you purred before taking him into your mouth, tongue swirling over the tip before licking the cream off. You pulled back and swallowed, a line of saliva connecting you for a brief moment before your mouth was on him again. You used your tongue to lick along his length making sure all the whipped cream was gone. 

“Fuck, amore,” he groaned above you, gloved fingers curling tighter into your hair. 

You gripped his thighs, steadying yourself as you began to move your mouth along his cock. You knew he was struggling not to thrust forward and fuck your mouth. He was white-knuckling the edge of the counter with the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair.

“Don’t stop” he panted looking down at you.

You looked back at him through your lashes, humming in response as you swirled your tongue on the tip of his cock. It was apparently too much for him to take and his hips jutted forward, hitting the back of your through. You tried not to gag as your eyes watered. “Sorry,” he hissed, the hand in your hair easing to stroke you soothingly.

You hummed again, taking him a little deeper and making him groan.

“Close,” he groaned.

“Come for me, Papa,” you said when your mouth left his cock for a second, running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You took him back into your mouth, your eyes remaining on his face, wanting to watch him as he fell apart.

“Amore,” he groaned. It was your only warning as his cock kicked, filling your mouth with his spend. You pulled back and made sure his eyes were on you before you swallowed, making him release another strangled sound. 

“Satanas,” he swore, his hand stroking your hair back from your forehead. His eyes roamed over your face and then flicked over to the now discarded whipped cream can. There was a wicked glint in his eye before he tucked himself back into his pants and grabbed the can off the ground. “You were right. We can have some fun with this.” 

You only had time to smile before he helped you off your knees and led you to the bedroom. “What about our hot chocolate?” you asked as he tugged you along.

“I’ll make us more when I’m finished with you.”

[sw5w]

Royal Cruiser Landed

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:01

[stark-ironman]

Shower

18+ No minors

Don't copy or post my work

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, Self-masturbation, spanking, choking, gagging, bit of degradation with use of the word slut and smacking on the face and backside, not much though, daddy kink, unprotected sex (please use protection)

Enjoy :)

"Jarvis, do you know where Y/N is currently at?" Tony asks the A.I. after several failed attempts of calling your cell phone. "She's taking a shower, sir. Shall I tell her you're looking for her?" Jarvis answers. "No, I'll go to her." Tony says as he walks up the steps.

"Sweetheart?" He calls as he enters the bedroom. No answer. He opens the bathroom door,  ready to call for you again but stops when he hears soft moans. Tony walks over to the shower, curious as to what you are doing and smirks when he sees you sitting on the bench, pleasuring yourself with the shower head.

He slips out of his clothes and opens the shower door,  quietly closing it. You don't notice he's there until a hand grabs the shower head from you, causing you to jump in shock. "T-Tony." You whimper, trying to get up. His other hand pushes you back down. "Surprised to see me,  huh?" His smirk never leaves his face.

"I thought you was still at the tower." You say as he chuckles, darkly. "I was but I figured I would come home early to spend some time with you but clearly you're doing just fine on your own." He says changing the shower head nozzle to the strong jet setting.

"Did I not please you enough today?" He asks, knowing it's rhetorical. "I fucked you twice this morning and ate your pussy on my desk at lunch. Shame on me for not realizing you was such a needy slut today." He scolds. "I'm sorry, daddy." You whimper again as he wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing gently.

"Sorry doesn't fix this, sweetheart. You really hurt daddy's feelings with this one. I don't like it when you play with my pussy without my permission." Tony places the showerhead back on your clit, causing you to jerk your hips from the over sensitive feeling.

"I-I can't, daddy. Please." You beg as he tightens his grip on your neck. "All you had to do was wait for me to get home and I would have taken such good care of you." He moves the shower head slightly, making sure to hit your spot just right. 

Your moans turn louder as you grip Tony's hair, arching your back slightly. "I-I'm fixing to cum, daddy." You choke out as your release builds and you lock eyes with Tony, seeing him smirk before removing the shower head.

You breathe heavy breaths, sitting up slightly as he stands up. "Please... daddy don't leave me like this." You beg. "Good girls get rewards, sweetheart. You don't deserve anything after pulling this little stunt." He spits, making you look at the floor but giving you an idea.

You crawl off the bench and sit on your knees, looking up at him with pouty eyes. "Please, fuck my mouth." You beg as you run your tongue up the bottom of his base. He bites his lip and grabs your face, slapping you softly but still enough behind it to make your cheek sting.

"You're such a needy slut for daddy's cock, aren't you?" Tony chuckles as he pushes in your mouth, gripping a fistful of hair once he bottoms out.

Gags fill the air as he starts thrusting into your mouth, making sure to bottom out with each thrust. "Look at you taking all my cock. You must really want daddy to fuck you." Tony moans as he looks down at you. You moan around him and listen as his moans get louder.

His dick twitches as he releases down you throat. "There you go. Swallow daddy's cum like the good little cum slut you are." Tony moans as you swallow every last drop before standing you up.

"Face the wall." He commands. You turn and brace your hands on the wall, feeling him slide in as he grips your waist tightly. A moan escapes your lips and he starts pounding into you, spanking you across your right cheek every couple of minutes.

"Was this so hard to ask for? Hm? I give you the world and you still aren't fully satisfied." He slows his pace and reaches down, grabbing the shower head and placing it on your clit. "You're going to cum until I tell you that you've had enough." Tony moans as his pace picks back up.

Your hands slip on the wall as you feel your release building and he wraps an arm around you to keep you up. "I-I'm fixing to cum, daddy." You moan. "Cum all over my cock, sweetheart." You release hits and a yell comes from your mouth. Curse words and praises fall from Tony's lips while your walls tighten around him.

"T-Tony, I-" You're cut short as another orgasm shoots through your body. He drops the shower head and you feel him twitch again, feeling his grip tighten on you.

He pulls out and turns you around, kissing you deeply. "Lesson learned, hm?" He asks. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I won't do it again, promise. Unless I want to get your attention." You smirk.

He bites his lip and a chuckle escapes, "You better be glad I love you." You kiss him again and he sits you back down. "Let's get cleaned up and go to dinner."

[bullet-prooflove]

Crash!Series - Part One: Test Flight

Tagging: @kmc1989 @burningpeachpuppy @acesgunner95 @caffeinatedwoman @unknown6669991 @irishavengersassemble @midnightstarqueen @sportslovers-world @wildcard566 @fanny-123456 @alexlynn16 @district447 @firecountryqueen666 @yousigned-upforthis @@coldmidnightlights  @totalstitchlover19 @chlo-lo14 @toheavenwmydrms @doggirlforever @missyhoneybee @thatanimalmom @wabi-sabi1090

You’re excited this morning, Manny can tell. It’s in the way you move around his kitchen, the bounce in your step, the smile on your face. He’d love to accredit it to this morning’s activities but he knows better.

This is about flying.

You’re test driving a new chopper today, one that’s been donated to the Search and Rescue team by Nozzle. For them it’s outdated but for SAR it’s an upgrade from the current model they use, they’ve chosen you as a former coast guard pilot to put her through her paces before they accept ‘the gift’.

For Nozzle it’s part of a PR campaign to clear up their image after the debacle with the winery. Faye’s company had taken a huge hit after that fire had gotten out of control, they’ve been trying to claw back their reputation ever since.

Manny hates the thought of you being used like that but the thing is he kind of gets it. There aren’t many female pilots out there, especially not working SAR. It helps that you’re photogenic, which is why the public relations team for Search and Rescue have thrust you into the limelight.

“If it boosts awareness and fundraising for Search and Rescue than I’m happy to do it.” You’d told him after Luke Leone had approached you about it. “I don’t give two shits about Nozzle.”

Faye has offered you a job three times, flying rescue for her concierge firefighting service and each time you’ve turned her down. You’re not interested the privatisation of rescue services, you care about saving people, making sure they get home to their families after the worst day of their lives. Manny’s built the same way. It’s part of the reason he loves you, you feel that calling the same way he does.

“I love this mood on you.” Manny tells you as he places his hands on your hips. Your fingers thread through his hair, drawing him closer and he makes a contented noise in the back of his throat as your fingertips trace over that sensitive space at the nape of his neck. “I love how happy you get when you fly.”

Flying is in your blood, it has been ever since you were a little girl up in your father’s crop-duster in Iowa. He’d been Airforce before he’d retired, so had your grandfather, you’d been all set to follow in their footsteps until a Coastguard recruiter came to your high school. It was love from the very moment you climbed into a chopper. You’d dedicated every aspect of your career working towards that goal and once you’d achieved it you’d never looked back.

“Imagine how excited I’ll be when I get back.” You tease, your lithe body arching against his. “I’ll need a little help working out all that adrenaline.”

You always get a little wild after you’ve been flying, it gives you a thrill you can’t get anywhere else and Manny he always reaps the benefits. The last time he’d picked you up from the hanger you hadn’t even made it home. He’d ended up pulling into a secluded layby because you’d spent most of the journey whispering into his ear and caressing him through his jeans. He’d fucked you in the cab of his truck, the windows steaming up as country music played on the radio.

Your phone chimes and Manny pulls away reluctantly because it’s your calendar reminding you that you have exactly thirty minutes to get to the hanger for preflight photographs.

“I have to go.” You murmur, glancing at the notification before slipping the phone back into your pocket.

“I’ll be listening over the radio. ” He tells you, picking up his coffee mug and leaning back against the counter as he watches you pick up your keys and motorcycle helmet.  “We can celebrate tonight after I get off my shift from Three Rock.”

“I would like that very much Captain Perez.” You say, raising up on your tiptoes so that you can press a soft kiss to his mouth.

“Stay safe out there today.” He whispers, his thumb chasing over the apple of your cheek.

“Always.” You promise before giving him one last kiss for the road.

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[lonestarflight]

Southeast view of Apollo 15 Lunar Module (LM-10) Falcon, with the Lunar Roving Vehicle (LRV), Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package (ALSEP) and Hill 305 in the background. Photographed during the second Extravehicular Activity (EVA 2) of the Apollo 15 mission.

Decreased clearance led to buckling of the extended descent engine nozzle on the landing of Apollo 15.

"In order to extend landing payload weight and lunar surface stay times, the last three Apollo Lunar Modules were upgraded by adding a 10-inch (25 cm) nozzle extension to the engine to increase thrust. The nozzle exhaust bell, like the original, was designed to crush if it hit the surface. It never had during the first three landings, but did buckle on the first Extended landing, Apollo 15."

-information from Wikipedia: link

Date: August 1, 1971

NASA ID: AS15-87-11839, AS15-87-11842, AS15-88-11882

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: this is our place (we make the rules)

Chapter 2 - Probably should read ch1 first Gun has a new neighbour. Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Good manners cost nothing.

Certaining when you barely had a few wons to your name, that was all you could afford. And your pride.

So just because your neighbour essentially said ‘leave me alone, have a nice life’, he still did you a favour. 

That you owe him for.

Love thy neighbour and all that.

.

.

Gun Park’s home is not homely by any stretch of the imagination.

All black and white and grey, nearly industrial in taste with wooden accents. Straight lines and sharp edges softened by nature’s hues.

Very few furnishings adorn his apartment, minimal and just shy of clinical. Anything that has a place is the best of the best, luxurious and with an exorbitant price tag to match.

Handcrafted bed from Sweden, which apart from Gun’s, has not experienced the same body twice.  

Imported italian coffee machine, used only with beans from Kenya. Drink of choice: 2 shots of espresso, taken as is. 

Never-used cooking appliances, still brand new and silver and top of the range. 

L-shaped sectional sofa from one of the hottest designers in South Korea, selected and praised by HNH’s own Interior Designer with words that held no interest to Gun.

An obscenely huge bathtub in the corner of a spacious bathroom and facing a breathtaking view. A shower with a rainfall head amongst other sprays and nozzles. Both having washed away a lifetime (and then some)of dirt and grime and blood.

Enough space for a personal home gym in one room (even if the building does include a gym and pool for communal use), and a walk-in wardrobe the size of most other pads in Gangnam.

He’s not much for sentiment, just a couple of more meaningful trinkets here or there. Reminders of Japan and souvenirs from his victims. 

Most surprising of all, in a lone forgotten corner, outlined against the impressive, sprawling cityscape and where the best sun spot should be, sits a plant.

Given to him by Goo Kim as a joke for housewarming, “Let’s see how well you can keep something alive”.

Gun’s first urge was to throw it back in his face. Though. The idea of keeping something living intrigued him. A little challenge.

Healthy and vibrant and green with long spiky leaves when it was thrusted into Gun’s hands. 

It didn’t hold his attention for long.

Kept alive in the early days by the cleaner, before Gun realised he hated the idea of someone touching his things and being in his space. 

Now a sad, neglected eyesore. Shrivelled and brown and hanging on for dear life. Lucky to get a few squirts of water once a month; momentary rejuvenation until it is left to wither again.

And lastly.

Hidden in the cabinet below the huge TV, regularly rotated out for the latest model, lives a few gaming consoles.

...Because Gun is still a young bachelor after all. He isn’t completely immune from the psychological thrills of video games.

.

.

Minimal as it is, and busy as Gun is - it’s still his home.

A sanctuary full of things he has collated and deemed worthy enough to be in his life that he makes sure to regularly return to. 

Today, he’s ready for a weekend of nothing. No doubt his leg will bounce and get twitchy after a few hours, but the last few weeks of being on the go with the Four Crews has taken a toll.

Not to mention the hijinks with his neighbour yesterday. Someone that looks like they don’t belong in this district, nevermind in the building.

Yet you knocked on his door. 

On Shiro Oni’s door. 

Exuding a quiet confidence even as your body betrayed your nerves. Even as two spots of pink appeared on your cheeks once you took in the full view of Gun Park.

Most fascinating of all is that you saw his eyes, treated it as an everyday occurrence, and did not hesitate or flinch.

Huh.

.

.

You ring the doorbell again.

At first, you thought this was an excellent idea. 

But now, as you wait (seriously, what is Gun doing in there), you’re feeling more and more foolish.

Tupperwares of homemade kimchi stew, and kimchi sits in the crook of your elbow. 

Because when someone has enough money to drown in, and obviously someone living in this building should have, then there’s nothing like a homemade touch.

Here he comes. 

The footsteps don’t sound irritable today. Thank the heavens. Maybe antsy, a little too quick footed to be relaxed.

The door is flung open, and your neighbour greets you. 

Ok, his footsteps didn’t sound irritable but his face certainly is.

And how does this guy have this effect on you? 

Your throat dries up as you notice his hair flopping over one eye, no longer messy after a full day of what must be work, instead likely just leftover from his bedhead. 

(Bed. Head. your horrid nasty brain repeats as you think about his BED.)

The linen shirt and pants. Chest bared, pretty collar bones on show and teasing the outline of hard pecs. 

Relaxed mode, weekend mode.

Sleeves again rolled up and highlighting the tattoos and faint veins protruding on his forearms.

Seriously, did this guy choose the tattoo placement just to highlight his muscular forearms? Fuck him, it absolutely works. 

Gun crosses them, leaning against his open door and observing you. His face, previously not bothering to hide his annoyance at being interrupted by you once again, only shows amusement. Amused to see how hard you are ogling him. It’s not new, though many don’t make it this blatantly obvious.

“Morning,” You hear your voice cracking and clear your throat. “Here.”

You hold out your tupperware boxes.

No hands receive them. They just hang there, in the air between you both.

Gun doesn’t move, continuing to look at you with a hint of a smile and an arched brow.

“It’s thanks. For yesterday.” You give the boxes a little shake. Why the hell can’t this guy just take it. 

“No.” is all he gives, retreating back and closing the door.

Your foot darts out, jamming itself into the gap just before it shuts.

“Just take it,” you try to shoulder your way in a little, "it’s for you.”

“I’ve broken people’s necks for less. Move your foot.”

“Just take it,” you repeat again, “then I don’t owe you anything. We’re even.”

Gun considers this. 

He didn’t think you owed him anything for yesterday, but you obviously did. It was a quick job in exchange for a peaceful evening, not out of the goodness of his heart.

If this right now is what it takes to get you out of his hair-

“I promise I’ll leave you alone,” comes your voice.

And out of his life forever. Fine.

Gun relents, stepping back as you stagger forward and into his domain.

You hold out the boxes, avoiding his gaze, face bright red at how much of an idiot you feel and what a fuss this has turned out to be.

He finally takes them, once again fingers grazing yours. “Thanks.”

Your eyes meet his as that singular word catches you off balance. You didn’t think it existed in his vocabulary.

“Now get out.”

Ah, that’s more like it.

[invadergia]

This is part 2 of another story i have.

This story does happen after breakdown dies and shows knockout coping with it still.

Also I do not know all the cybertronian terms yet so sorry but I'm using some human terms.

And please forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes.

Part 1 Is here

@skylarkking @radio-wavelengths @myfictionalfables @duvet-detectives @starscreamhasdied

OPTIMUS PRIME X KNOCKOUT PART 2

----------NSFW------------

Knockout slowly pulled himself off of optimus's spike teasingly stroking it as he got up from his knees, his glossy finish now staind with fresh lubricant and energon.

Knockout slowly climbed onto optimus's chest pining him down as they shared a sweet kiss. Knockout snaking his servo down to prime's spike gently teasing the tip.

"You ready big boy?" Knockout said teasingly and optimus shuttered under his lovers touch. Optimus whined out a gruff breathy "yes" and knockout slowly sank him onto the prime's large spike.

Knockout moaned as he slowly began grinding himself onto the spike setting a slow pace for them both, optimus moaned as knockout grinded into him. Optimus looked up seeing Knockout's beautiful face as he road him. Optimus always loved seeing knockout squeeze his optics shut as he took his spike. The cute expressions he'd make, his groans of pleasure. Optimus could listen to him for hours if he could.

Optimus gently hold onto Knockout's sides. Optimus thrusting up onto Knockout's tight valve driving himself a little deeper with each thrust. Knockout leaned in close to Optimus's ear letting Optimus listen to his low breathy moans.

Knockout smiled as he began to grind into optimus's spike meeting his thrusts. Knockout began to move onto his side optimus following him as optimus was now gently pinning knockout to the bed.

Knockout smiled as he gently grabbed onto optimus's shoulder pulling him down closer to him as he grinded down on his spike. Optimus moaned as he felt knockout cycling down on his spike.

Knockout smiled as he began whispering into optimus's ear. "Oh, you like when I cycle down on you don't you prime?" Knockout giggled as optimus blushed telling Knockout everything he needed to know.

Optimus struggled to hold himself up, his legs trembling as Knockout cycled down hard on optimus's spike earnings him lovely groans and moans from his conjunx.

Hours had passed and knockout was enjoying seeing his conjunx a moaning trembling mess as he was nearing his 10th overload. Optimus couldn't think straight, his mind lost in pure bliss as he overloaded filling his clconjunx with his transfluid.

Knockout moaned as he and his conjunx overloaded enjoying the fullness he felt, but that happiness was short lived as knockout seen optimus was a mess barley able to stay awake as his body gave out and he crashed onto the bed pinning knockout underneath him. Knockout squirmed trying to get optimus off of him but he was stuck and it was painfully obvious that optimus's spike was still buried inside him, and knockout unable to satisfy himself on it.

Optimus slept for hours knockout got bored and followed him after only 15 minutes of waiting. Optimus was having his favorite dream him and knockout just got back from a movie night, knockout leading him to there bedroom and optimus got to work pleasing his conjunx.

Knockout awoke suddenly as optimus pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, knocked was going to ask optimus what he was doing only to have optimus began to thrust into him at a slow pace.

Knockout moaned out optimus's name as he tried to grind on his spike unable to move much, Knockout looked up seeing optimus's eye's were closed. Optimus was still asleep.

Optimus loved the feeling of his spike buried in Knockout's valve, he wanted nothing more than to please his conjunx. Optimus's smiles as knockout opened his chest revealing his nozzles. Knockout moaned of prime to go harder and optimus happily obliged, picking up Knockout's leg and putting it over his shoulder optimus began to thrust into him harder. Optimus leaned down gently taking one of Knockout's nozzles into his mouth teasing it with his tongue.

Knockout gasps as optimus sleepily lifted his leg up over his shoulder turning Knockout onto his side and beginning to thist into him hard, optimus leaning down to Knockout's chest gently licking at his chest plate. Knockout could see stars in his eyes each time optimus thrust into him, his spike hitting his ceiling node just right. Knockout looked at his internal clock it was 1:39 am prime started his shift at 9:00. Knockout knew he was in for a very long ride.

[usafphantom2]

Where is the doghouse?

Not only JP-7: the SR-71 could use JP-4 and JP-5 as emergency fuels but they both limited the Blackbird's top speed to Mach 1.5..

The SR-71 Blackbird was the first aircraft to use its own fuel for hydraulic fluid. It was called the fuel hydraulic system.

The legendary SR-71 Blackbird Mach 3+ spy plane was powered by two 34,000 lbf (151,240 N) thrust-class J58 afterburning turbojet engines. Each engine contained a nine-stage compressor driven by a two-stage turbine. The main burner used an eight-can combustor and the afterburner is fully modulating. The primary nozzle area was variable. Above Mach 2.2, some of the airflow was bled from the fourth stage of the compressor and dumped into the augmentor inlet through six bleed-bypass tubes, circumventing the core of the engine and transitioning the propulsive cycle from a pure turbojet to a turbo-ramjet.

The SR-71 was the first aircraft to use its own fuel for hydraulic fluid. It was called the fuel hydraulic system.

An engine-driven pump provided 1800 psi of recirculating fuel to accurate various engine components and then returned it back to the aircraft fuel system to be burned. Fuel was used in the actuators to control the afterburner nozzles, which maintain the proper exhaust gas temperature and control the thrust output. The fuel was also used in the engine actuators to shift the two-position inlet guide veins from their axial position to the cambered position and back again. This was just another of the many first-ever inventions of the-SR-71.

The J58 engine was hydromechanically controlled and burned a special low volatility jet fuel mixture known as JP-7.

Emergency fuels could be used in the SR-71 if the crew was low on fuel and had to use ANY tanker (as already explained the Blackbird relied on KC-135Q tankers [that could simultaneously carry a maximum of 74,490lb of JP-7 and 110,000lb of JP-4 for their own engines] but the SR-71 could also be refueled by standard Stratotankers in the event KC-135Qs were not available or if the Blackbird crew had to deal with an emergency situation) they could find to avoid the loss of the aircraft. The emergency fuels were JP-4 or JP-5 but they limited the Blackbird top speed to Mach 1.5. There were six main fuselage tanks. All 80,285 pounds of JP-7 fuel were carried in six main fuselage tanks. The tanks numbered one through six moved forward to aft (back) tank 6B It could hold 7,020 pounds of gravity-fed fuel and two tanks sumps. This was also called the “doghouse” and was located in the extreme back portion of the fuselage.

Fuel was the lifeblood of this fastest-manned airplane in the world. I found the following in a declassified CIA brief.

There it would first be used as hydraulic fluid at 600 F to control the afterburner exit flaps before being fed into the burner cans of the powerplant and the afterburner itself.

Cooling the cockpit and crew turned out to be seven times as difficult as on the X-15 research airplane which flew as much as twice as fast as the SR-71 but only for a few minutes per flight. The wheels and tires of the landing gear had to be protected from the heat by burying them in the fuselage fuel tanks for radiation cooling to save the rubber and other systems attached thereto. Special attention had to be given to the crew escape system to allow safe ejection from the aircraft over a speed and altitude range of zero miles per hour at sea level to Mach numbers up to 4.0 at over 100,000 feet.

Written by Linda Sheffield Sanitized Copy Approved for Release 2011/09/27: CIA-RDP90B00170R000100080001-5 -4- The problems of taking, pictures through

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Facebook Pages Habubrats SR-71 and Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

Written by Habubrat

@Habubrats71 via X