#spring testing machine

[starembsys]

Advancing Quality Assurance with the Spring Testing Machine from Star EMBSYS

In the realm of manufacturing and engineering, precision and reliability are critical elements that determine the quality and performance of end products. One of the essential components in many mechanical assemblies is the spring, whose performance can significantly impact the function of the entire system. To ensure optimal functionality, springs must undergo rigorous quality testing to confirm their strength, elasticity, and durability. The spring testing machine is a pivotal instrument in this process, and Star EMBSYS stands out as a reputable name in delivering advanced solutions in this category.

Star EMBSYS has built a strong reputation for developing innovative and reliable testing equipment for a wide range of industries. Their spring testing machines are engineered to offer high precision and consistent performance, ensuring that springs used in various applications meet stringent quality standards. These machines are integral to industries such as automotive, aerospace, defense, electronics, and industrial machinery, where the reliability of each component is paramount.

The core function of a spring testing machine is to evaluate the mechanical properties of a spring, including its load-bearing capacity, compression, extension, and overall behavior under stress. Star EMBSYS designs these machines with advanced features that allow for automated and accurate measurements, reducing human error and increasing testing efficiency. Their systems can accommodate different types of springs, including compression springs, tension springs, and torsion springs, providing versatile functionality for quality assurance teams.

What distinguishes Star EMBSYS spring testing machines is their integration of digital technology and intelligent control systems. These machines often feature digital displays, data acquisition systems, and user-friendly interfaces, allowing operators to monitor and analyze test results in real-time. The ability to store and retrieve test data enhances traceability and facilitates quality control documentation, which is vital for compliance with industry standards and audits.

In addition to their technical capabilities, Star EMBSYS emphasizes the durability and robustness of their machines. Their spring testing equipment is constructed using high-grade materials and components that can withstand prolonged usage in demanding industrial environments. This not only ensures the longevity of the machine but also provides users with consistent performance over time, reducing the need for frequent calibration or maintenance.

The use of a spring testing machine from Star EMBSYS streamlines the testing process by providing precise control over test parameters. Operators can define load ranges, displacement limits, and testing cycles with high accuracy, enabling detailed analysis of spring characteristics. This capability is particularly important in research and development settings where engineers need to evaluate how design variations affect performance. It also plays a crucial role in production environments where batch testing must be conducted efficiently to meet delivery timelines without compromising quality.

Another important aspect of spring testing machines from Star EMBSYS is their compliance with international testing standards. Their machines are designed to meet or exceed guidelines set by organizations such as ISO, ASTM, and DIN, which is essential for companies involved in global trade or those serving high-reliability sectors. By ensuring conformity with these standards, manufacturers can guarantee the performance and safety of their products across diverse markets.

The adaptability of these machines also allows for customized configurations based on specific testing requirements. Star EMBSYS offers solutions that can be tailored to handle unique spring sizes, force ranges, and test conditions. This customization capability is especially beneficial for specialized manufacturers who deal with non-standard or high-performance spring designs that require unique testing protocols.

Moreover, Star EMBSYS provides comprehensive support services to ensure their clients derive maximum value from their investment. From installation and training to calibration and after-sales support, the company focuses on delivering a complete solution. This commitment to customer satisfaction helps build long-term relationships and reinforces their position as a trusted supplier in the quality assurance and testing industry.

The integration of automation and digital technologies in Star EMBSYS spring testing machines is a reflection of the broader trend toward Industry 4.0 in the manufacturing sector. These smart testing systems contribute to data-driven decision-making, predictive maintenance, and continuous improvement initiatives. As companies strive to enhance productivity and product reliability, the demand for advanced testing solutions such as those offered by Star EMBSYS continues to grow.

Ultimately, the spring testing machine is more than just a tool for mechanical evaluation—it is a critical element in ensuring product safety, performance, and compliance. Star EMBSYS, with its dedication to innovation, quality, and customer-centric design, has established itself as a leader in this niche but essential field. By investing in their testing solutions, manufacturers gain a competitive edge through improved product quality, reduced waste, and enhanced operational efficiency. As industries evolve and the demand for precision grows, the role of reliable testing equipment from companies like Star EMBSYS becomes increasingly vital to the success of modern manufacturing.

Visit:- https://www.starembsys.com/spring-testing-machine.html

[heicodynamics]

Manufacturers of springs may place more value on a constant spring output than on quantity in general, while in other industries, spring type may be more important. While you're looking for the ideal spring testing machine, bear the following in mind:

[systemsandcontrols]

[hsmleindia]

Manually Operated Digital Spring Testing Machine

Manually Operated Digital Spring Testing Machine is mainly used for the testing of conventional mechanical performance indicators of various springs and gas springs for tension and compression purpose. The professionally designed automatic control and data acquisition system realizes the full digital adjustment of the data acquisition and control process. The equipment is suitable for petrochemical, automobile manufacturing, spring factory, plastic and rubber, pharmaceutical packaging, engine and other manufacturing industries and product quality supervision departments at all levels, and is also suitable for teaching demonstration work in colleges and universities.

[nickbutnodick]

im actually SO curious about what this summer will be like

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[julang-company]

The 25th China (Guangzhou) Int'l Spring Industry Exhibition which is primarily concerned with the various types of spring products, spring materials, wire forming machines, spring equipment and accessories, spring testing instruments.Guangzhou international spring industry exhibition is a very famous event which has increasing popularity every year. The exhibitors and visitors numbers are increasing rapidly in event. The exhibitors will be mainly presenting the advanced equipment and latest technologies on spring and wire products and materials. This event is a very lucrative ground for the exhibitors to expand their business.

[starkembsys]

Pioneering Spring Testing Machine Manufacturing in India

Stark Embsys stands at the forefront of Spring Testing Machine Manufacturers in India, pioneering the industry with its innovative and high-quality products. Their commitment to excellence and technological advancements has propelled them to a leading position, setting new standards in precision and reliability. By offering state-of-the-art spring testing machines, they enable various industries to ensure the quality and performance of springs with utmost accuracy. Stark Embsys' dedication to innovation and customer satisfaction has made them a trusted choice, revolutionizing the landscape of spring testing and cementing their status as trailblazers in the Indian manufacturing sector.

[bottmless-pitt]

I'll be right there. 1/2

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of suicide, talks of self-harm, Reader attempted suicide. Jack Abbot x F!reader, Neighbor!Reader, Medical inaccuracies, blood, car trauma, mentions of Abbot's time in the military, brief descriptions of bruising, blood, and stitches. Angst with an ambiguously happy ending. Summary: Jack Abbot's new neighbor ends up in his Trauma rooms for all the wrong reasons. Can he break through to her before it's too late? Author's Note: Some real self-indulgent angst. I highkey love a reader insert with a tragic backstory to lean into. This is part 1, I'll be posting part 2 later this week! Part 2 will definitely be more fluff and smut than this, so no hard feelings if you'd like to read it later. Let me know your thoughts. All the kindness from the other piece is keeping me upright. Enjoy the self-indulgent angst!!!

The lights were too bright. It was stale in the cavernous halls of the PMTC’s emergency department. The smell of blood and cleaning fluid never fully left your nose, and the sounds of someone’s lowest moments seemed to echo out eternally.

Jack loved the chaos that working in the Pitt brings him, it’s grounding. After spending better part of a decade on the front lines, returning to civilian life was more than monotonous, it was dehumanizing. Jack had understood himself well in the thick of the battlefield, he worked quickly without hesitation or fear. He had a carefully built self-image that hinged on his ability to be useful to someone in crisis.

After losing a portion of his leg, being honorably discharged, and sent back to retire he had lost the only structure he’d ever known. He couldn’t figure out how to be useful in the stillness, where no one was crying out for loved ones or God-like figures to save them. He was aimless without the chaos.

So, he loved The Pitt, and its never-ending line of incoming traumas. He appreciated his role in the machine that cogged overhead, happy to do his part and keep moving. Some days were harder than others, some cases left him feeling threadbare and worn thin, but the silence that greeted him when he walked home left him more haunted than anything he’d seen at work in the past few years.

So, all in all, Jack didn’t complain about the work the way the rest of his team did. He never minded the patients that would kick and scream at him, nor did he care much when there were far too many people packed into the waiting room. Yes, in a perfect world none of this would happen, but he enjoyed that it kept him moving forward. He needed the momentum desperately.

On an off night, however, he can’t seem to get the itch scratched. They had breezed through most of the day-shift’s leftover cases, discharged who they could, and moved onto the next. All of his cases were being monitored, the chairs had slowed down significantly, and it was approaching the Night-shift lull.

He was starting to get antsy, and after the third lap checking in on his team, he collapsed into a chair next to his Charge Nurse, Bridgit.

“Don’t get too comfortable soldier.” She looked down at him from the top rim of her reading glasses. Jack only smirked, she quirked an unimpressed eyebrow back at him.

“Oh, you know me,” He leaned back into the chair, putting the lumbar support to the test. “I’m not comfortable unless I’m elbow deep in traumas.” He passively spun his chair side to side, looking less like the Emergency Department Attending and more like a teenage boy stuck at the family barbeque.

“More like elbow deep in trauma, period.” She shoots back, tapping him with her clipboard the way a teacher would readjust a student. That was Bridgit, she was the one really running this place, and Jack had no issues submitting to her power when she pushed him around a little. She opened her mouth to say something, when the phone behind her lit up. It only took a few hushed words before turning back to him, “Look alive kid, we have incoming, ETA 3 minutes.”

Jack springs up, walking away as she finishes gathering the troops. He’s outside in a flash, prepped and sterile before the sirens could even be heard in the distance. Ellis not more than three steps behind him, already gloving up ready to take on whatever she needs. Jack tilted his head back and gave a calm thumbs up as they see the flashing lights come up and over the horizon.

When the ambulance pulls up and the gurney is wheeled out, he sees a young woman, bloodied, bruised, but semi-conscious. He begins his medical assessment and taking the reins from the EMTs. He doesn’t get a glimpse of her face before he begins spouting orders.

“Let’s get her set up in Trauma 1, I don’t like blood loss here, prep to intubate but let’s see if we can’t assess the head trauma before we sedate her.” He led as Ellis trailed along the other side, following his orders exactly. “Hi there, I’m Doctor Jack Abbot, I’m a doctor at the Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center, we’re going to take good care of you.” He heard a small groan as the patient slowly turned their head towards him.

He saw you then, he’s shocked he hadn’t recognized you sooner, on the gurney laid out before him. His sweet, albeit quiet, neighbor who had never given him any trouble. His breath caught in his throat as your eyes seemed to recognize him, before rolling back in your skull and everything went dark.

--

Pittsburg was a bitch in February. The weather was unrelenting, and frost bitten. No one wanted to be outside for more than five minutes, let alone lug box after box up the small stairwell into the dusty old apartment upstairs.

So, when Jack, who snagged a rare weekend off, noticed his new upstairs neighbor was moving in he had no excuse not to help. That’s just the kind of guy Jack was, he wasn’t going to let a new neighbor move in without at least offering. He was thankful you had sense enough to hire movers, rather than try and do it yourself the way the last tenants had. (He had the pleasure of trying to sleep through three college aged guys try to carry a sectional up the stairs two Septembers ago.)

He didn’t fancy himself too much help, but the next trip he saw you coming down he poked his head out.

“Oh!” you squeaked, nervous to catch one of your new neighbors off guard, “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you come out.” You clarified.

“it’s no worries.” Jack stepped out and extended a hand, “I’m Jack, I’m in 1B.” He pointed his thumb back at the door that was clearly labeled behind him. You only smiled shyly and let out a polite laugh offering your name in return.

“I’m 2B, so I guess I’m right above you.”  You spoke softly. “Is the moving too much noise? I’m so sorry, it was the only time slot the movers had left.”

Jack shrugged, he hadn’t really thought about it, with his sleep schedule being as backwards as it was. This was early for him if he was being honest.

“Not for me, no. I’m night shift at the hospital down the road.” He noticed your fidgeting, trying to keep an eye on the movers without being too rude. You were young, far too young for him, but it didn’t stop him from admiring your face. He especially noticed the crease that developed between your eyebrows when you saw the movers drop a box boldly labeled fragile.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep you, just wanted to see if you needed any help.” He conceded. Your head shot back to look at him, wide eyed, and a flush creeped up your spine.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m so distracted. The move’s been pretty chaotic.” Your shoulder slump, letting the weight of the moment hang heavy before taking a deep breath and regaining composure. You shoot him a smile, but he notices how it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I think we’re ok! And I don’t want to steal your night away.” She brushes off the comment.

He doesn’t reasonably believe you, but hey, moving can be tough and he doesn’t want to keep you longer than necessary.  So, he throws a friendly smile, catching your eyes with an open intensity. “No problem, but if you ever need anything I’m down here.” He watches his words land, and you pause a moment before nodding again.

“Thanks Jack, and uh- “you peak back through the open front door to watch the movers for a moment, “same here. If you ever need anything at all.”

And that was the first and last time he’d spoken to you, until now. Until you were wheeled into his trauma room, covered in blood, multiple broken ribs, and an unidentified head trauma.

Jack was a talented doctor, a master at compartmentalizing in high stress environments, and acting fast in situations going south. He was a steady hand in an earthquake, proving his actions time and time again, both in the field and out of it. He was a good doctor, but seeing you laid up before him had his throat dry in an instant.

He couldn’t reconcile the shy neighbor he met only a few months ago is the same girl bleeding out on his table, and the last thing she heard was him promising to take good care of him.

For a moment, half a moment maybe, as your eyes slide shut, he lets the chaos around him rumble away, it couldn’t touch his shock. He let the nurses bark SATs and Ellis call out questions.

For a brief moment he allowed himself to be Jack Abbot, 1B, who just wanted to make sure his new neighbor was safe. Jack Abbot, 1B, who would always take her mail dropped into his box by accident up to her door and ring the bell. Jack Abbot who wanted to get a second chance at a first meeting, because he’s sure that if he could just be slightly more charming, he’d have gotten a chance to carry a box up the stairs and into your new home. That he would have a chance to leave you better than he found it. The Jack Abbot that was selfish, wanting a woman who was younger than him, who’d only ever spoken to him the once, but had never left his mind.

It wasn’t until one of the nurses brushed past him with a bag of O-Neg that he snapped out of it.

“Fuck, we need to get her intubated-“He announced, reaching for the tube, and before he can allow himself to think any further about what could happen to you, his mind shuts and he becomes Dr. Abbot again.

The first thing you feel when you come to, is a dull ache in your left side. Everything hurts, actually, but your left side outranks the rest by far. Your eyes don’t open right away, too heavy to try lifting them. You let the sounds of the monitor to your right keep time, beep… beep… beep. It would be comforting if the sheets didn’t itch, and your feet weren’t so cold, or if there wasn’t the sounds of people dying outside the doorway to your room.

When you opened your eyes, you immediately regretted it, your head blooming in fresh pain from the intensity of the lights. Immediately shutting them closed and letting out a groan. The lights shining overhead had you spinning, sending waves of pain down your body. It was never supposed to end here.

If you told yourself a year ago you ended up in the emergency room tonight, she’d probably laugh in your face.

It all started with your fiancé, or ex-fiancé, who couldn’t seem to decide if they loved you or not. Or at least that’s what they told you last December while you were picking out wedding cake flavors. It wasn’t that they didn’t love you, per-se, the reality is they didn’t love you enough to stop fucking their coworker. So, wedding is called off, which you lament but move on.

It's not until he kicks you out come January, with nothing but enough cash to stay at a shitty motel for a few weeks that things start to weigh you down. The small attic apartment in a townhouse in the heart of Pittsburg is a refuge. It takes most of your paycheck every month, and you have barely enough furniture to call it livable. It’s completely yours, though, and that’s not something you’ve ever had.

So, you keep going through the motions. Then you get fired from your job. Budget cuts, layoffs, restructuring is uttered. You suspect it has more to do with the Senior Manager that’s sporting the engagement ring that was yours just a few months prior. That’s when the spiral really begins.

You reach out to whatever family you have left and are met with cold indifference. They’re not unsupportive, but you aren’t the only one with problems. Any attempts to reach out to old friends lost to time are met with similar tepid support.

The dismissal is enough to keep you firmly bottled up for years.

You’re not really sure what the final straw was but looking up at the steep steps of your apartment building, you can’t bring yourself up the steps. Not when you know the only thing waiting for you is a stuffy apartment devoid of all life. You contemplate, for a moment, knocking on the downstairs neighbor’s door, but decide against it. You’re not sure what kind of doctor he is, but he always looks so tired when you catch him coming up the sidewalk in the mornings.

But after a long shift at your new dead-end job, you just decide it’s not worth it anymore. You couldn’t spend another night thanking your lucky stars to be living a life you despise. For the first time in a long time, you feel nothing at all. No sadness, no pain, just intense clarity. You turn on your heel, walk out into the cold, and hardly flinch when you take a step out into the busy street. The last thing you remember is the bright light of the oncoming traffic consume you.

You were never meant to end up here. You never meant for any of this. You open your eyes again and reach out for the call button.

You were by no means a medical expert, but you thought the button was more for Nurses rather than doctors. You hadn’t expected for Jack to poke his head into your room, but of course he had. Of course, Jack was an ER doctor, and of course he was in your room. Lest we forget what sick karmic luck exists.

“Hey there sleepy head.” He was calm, but you could feel his eyes racking down you with medically trained precision. How mortifying for your neighbor to be your doctor after a night like this. You want to curl up and hide, he reaches out for your hand.

“How are you feeling?” he tilts his head down at you.

“Hurts.” You manage to choke out, throat sore and rough, like sandpaper. He presses his lips in a tight line and nods his head gently.

“Understandable, you were in a car accident.” He reached over, fiddling with the equipment. “I’m adjusting your meds. You should feel less pain here in a minute.” You resist the urge to let out a chuckle, the physical pain was hardly the main concern, and you had a feeling by the unwavering gaze jack was giving you- he already knew that.

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He takes a seat on your bedside. “I spoke with some of the officers on the scene,” He fiddled with the thin paper sheet below you. “And they’re pretty concerned about you, kid.” He dropped his hand on top of yours, and you felt your whole body react.

His eyes boring holes into your skull as you try to squirm out from under his gaze. The pain meds slowly trickling in your system do little to help as you try to adjust. You cry out in pain when your skin, bruised and swollen, is stretched to its limit along your side.

“Easy there, you’ve got stitches.”  Jack, Dr. Abbot, has his arms around you in an instant. He helps you turn until you’re lying on your side, and you allow yourself the comfort of curling up in protest.

“That better?” He asks, and you only nod. “Good.”

Jack makes no motion to move, he just sits with you, watches you like you’ll disappear any second. He opened his mouth a few times but ultimately spent the next few moments watching you.

It was a shameful feeling, to know your low got that low and now you’re sitting with your neighbor who probably thinks you’re totally insane for walking into oncoming traffic. He was some hotshot ER doctor. You were just some random person who’d come swan diving into his life headfirst and knocked themselves out on the bottom of the pool.

You couldn’t bear the agony of waking up without meaning again, and you don’t understand why this man, who owed you nothing, was sitting here with you. Your body begged you to say something, do something, anything, but your mind was numb.

You burrowed deeper into your own hands, and it wasn’t until you felt Dr. Abbot’s own hands petting your hair, that you realized you were crying. You felt your whole body sink into the thin mattress below you, like a faulty tire finally siphoning the last bit of air. Your body shook and your muscles ache around the constricted breaths.

“I know, let it out.” He encouraged, scooting closer to you.

“I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You finally admit. In a strange way it feels better saying it to someone other than your own reflection. You can’t look at him, you don’t want to see the look in his eyes when he thinks it. You’re completely insane.

You don’t know how long he sits with you, letting your body heave its sobs. He stays, ignoring other patients, to sit with you. One hand on your head the other fiddles with the chain around his neck.

“I lost a leg, in Afghanistan in 2009,” His voice is calm, almost matter of fact, but waivers off like he’s reliving it. “And I thought that would be the hardest thing I ever had to experience.” He moved his hands away from you.

“I moved back home, thought about retiring, thought about working at a college as a professor. I liked teaching enough. I thought, the worst is behind me, just gotta move on.” He clears his throat, and you peak through to look up at him, lost in his own story. “I had a wife, I was going to settle down and figure out how to be there for her, but it wasn’t that simple. I had lost myself completely over there.

“I was a soldier my whole life, I trained to be a soldier first, medic second. I don’t think I remembered what civilian life really was. We used to sit around at base camp, talking about what we’d do when we got home, but once I was there it meant nothing to me anymore.” You took a shuddering breath, and he looked down at you, “I came back, and I had some really dark nights. I couldn’t move, I had no purpose, I was a soldier first, medic second, person third. I couldn’t be a soldier, I wasn’t cleared to be a medic, and I had no idea how to be a person anymore.

“There more than a few nights where I begged for everything to stop. I prayed for there to be an end to that feeling. So, I get it. Hey, I really do, but this is not the way out you think it is kid.” He put his hand on yours, and you felt his fingers curl around yours tightly, like he was holding onto something that was just on the brink of slipping him by.

“I don’t have anything,” You admit to yourself, “It’s not just things, I don’t have a life, I don’t have anything.”

He lets out a shaky breath, “You have me.” He tilts his head again trying to catch your reaction. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and distantly you hear the heartrate monitor increase. He only chuckles and reaches past you to turn the monitor off. “I mean it, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know me at all.” You sound like a petulant child, but he lets you get away with it.

“But I want to.”

And when Jack puts it that way it’s so simple. He makes life sound easy to rebuild, and you want to yell and scream that it isn’t that simple. You want to shake him until he understands the wreckage he’s standing on top of isn’t just a broken-down building, it’s a radioactive wasteland.

“Here’s what I want to do, and you tell me if this is alright.” He stands, crossing his arms, then looking down at you. “I’m going to have a doctor come talk to you, and he’s going to set you up with a therapy program that’ll be a good fit for you. Might even get you on some medicine if they feel like it’s the right fit. I’m also going to give you my phone number, and I’m going to check on you before I leave for work and when I get home for a few weeks. I’m going to give you the number for my charge nurse as well, in case you can’t reach me.” He runs a hand down his face, and you can see the exhaustion pulling him down. You don’t offer an argument.

“I know it’s scary.” He admits to you, “To choose to get better, but you can, and I’ll be right here, alright?” He nods, and you nod with him.

“Okay,” you concede, exhausted form your own emotions.

“It’s rude,” He pats your shoulder, “to end up in a trauma on your friend’s shift you know.”

“Are we friends, Dr. Abbot?” You question.

“We are now.”

[literallymechanical]

Breeding blankets for fusion reactors

So, barring a few ambitious projects involving helium-3, fusion reactor power plants will use hydrogen isotopes as fuel: a 50/50 mixture of deuterium (hydrogen-2) and tritium (hydrogen-3). Deuterium is very stable and relatively abundant, as far as these things go, and can be extracted from ordinary seawater.  Tritium, however, has a half life of just over 12 years, so it doesn't occur in nature.

Fortunately, you can use your fusion reactor to synthesize its own tritium fuel, via the transmutation of lithium-6. You use the powerful neutron flux from the fusion plasma to “breed” tritium in lithium, extract it, then feed it back into the reactor. The figure of merit for this process is the tritium breeding ratio (TBR), which is simply the ratio of tritium bred to tritium used. The goal is to get a TBR substantially greater than 1.

This figure shows the physics of tritium breeding, where neutrons from the deuterium-tritium fusion plasma are absorbed by lithium, which then splits into helium and tritium. [source]

Generally speaking, most concepts for tritium breeding involve wrapping a lithium “breeding blanket” around the outside of the reactor, with as few gaps as you can manage. A deuterium-tritium reactor is constantly generating fast neutrons. You want to keep as much of that emission as possible inside the breeding blanket, for both tritium and power generation.

There are a few different ideas for breeding blanket designs, several of which are going to be tested on ITER, the massive reactor being built in France. One concept is a thick sheath of lithium ceramic that surrounds the vessel, either as solid slabs or pebbles.  As tritium breeding occurs under the blanket, water or liquid helium is circulated through it, cooling the lithium and potentially extracting heat for electricity generation.

While such a blanket might be relatively “simple” (lol) to build, there are some pretty fundamental challenges. Neutrons will penetrate most materials with ease, and it might be tricky to extract tritium that's been bred deep inside of solid lithium.  Ideally, you could do the extraction without pause, even as breeding is ongoing. For some designs, though, you have to cycle out breeder units for harvesting as they get a full load of tritium.

Another concept is “liquid breeding." This concept uses a molten mixture of metallic lithium and lead, or a lithium salt compound like FLiBe (fluorine-lithium-beryllium). The liquid would be pumped through a “breeding zone” around the vessel, where the neutron flux is thickest. The tritium will then be continuously extracted from the breeding fluid as it flows back out.  As part of the process, you can run the hot liquid through a heat exchanger, heating water to power a steam turbine. 

Liquid breeding does raise some prominent engineering challenges. Hot, molten breeding fluid will be very hard to handle – not just because of the heat, but also because you're trying to pump a massive quantity of viscous fluid into a very tight breeding zone. Moreover, molten lithium-lead might react explosively with air. If your breeding system springs a leak, you’ll have a serious mess on your hands!

It’s still unclear which of these breeding strategies will bear fruit. From conception to implementation, there are still a lot of unknowns!  Both liquid and solid breeding will be conducted in France, and a number of private fusion companies have plans to breed tritium in their machines as well.

[bixels]

Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

[starembsys]

Servo Tensile Testing Machine: Precision Testing with Star EMBSYS Innovation

A servo tensile testing machine is a highly precise and advanced instrument used to determine the tensile strength and mechanical properties of various materials, including metals, polymers, rubbers, composites, and textiles. This type of machine plays a critical role in quality control, research, and development across industries such as automotive, aerospace, construction, and manufacturing. Among the leading contributors to this field is Star EMBSYS, a trusted name known for delivering cutting-edge testing solutions tailored to industry requirements.

Tensile testing involves applying a uniaxial force to a material sample until it breaks. The goal is to measure properties such as ultimate tensile strength, yield strength, elongation, and modulus of elasticity. A servo tensile testing machine uses a servo motor system for load application, allowing for precise control of force and displacement. This high level of control enables users to conduct complex testing protocols with exceptional accuracy and repeatability.

Star EMBSYS has established a reputation for producing servo tensile testing machines that are both technologically advanced and user-centric. Their systems typically include high-resolution load cells, precision ball screw drives, and digital extensometers for accurate strain measurement. These components work together to ensure reliable test results that meet international testing standards such as ASTM, ISO, and BIS.

One of the standout features of a servo tensile testing machine from Star EMBSYS is its fully automated operation, which includes programmable test cycles and real-time data acquisition. The intuitive software interface allows users to set test parameters, monitor live force-extension graphs, and generate comprehensive reports. This level of automation not only increases testing efficiency but also reduces the potential for human error.

Another advantage is the machine's versatility. Star EMBSYS designs their servo tensile testers to accommodate a wide range of grips and fixtures, making them suitable for testing different sample types and geometries. Whether testing thin films, wires, rods, or large structural components, the machine can be customized to deliver optimal performance for specific applications.

Durability and ease of maintenance are also core strengths of Star EMBSYS equipment. Built with robust mechanical frames and high-quality components, their machines are designed for long-term reliability in both laboratory and industrial environments. Minimal maintenance requirements and strong technical support further enhance their value proposition for customers.

Star EMBSYS also places a strong emphasis on compliance and calibration. Their machines are supplied with traceable calibration certificates and adhere to strict quality control protocols. This ensures that users can rely on the accuracy of their test results for both internal quality checks and third-party certification requirements.

In summary, a servo tensile testing machine is an essential tool for evaluating the mechanical performance of materials with precision and consistency. Star EMBSYS brings significant value to this field through its advanced engineering, user-friendly interfaces, and commitment to quality. Their servo tensile testing solutions are a preferred choice for organizations that demand reliable and high-performance material testing systems to support innovation, safety, and quality assurance.

Visit:- https://www.starembsys.com/servo-tensile-testing-machine.html

[heicodynamics]

The best practices for spring maintenance and inspection, the different kinds of spring testing with spring testing machines, the advantages of spring testing and certification, and the function of testing in guaranteeing the performance and safety of mechanical systems using springs will all be covered in this article.

[systemsandcontrols]

Guide To choose the Right Tensile/Compression Strength Testing Machine

Despite the fact that Tensile/Compression strength testing machines are and utilized pretty much in every industry there is still absence of information with regards to buying the right machine. Given the scope of items, the features and the variations in cost getting one can be a bit overwhelming and this becomes especially true for non -standard applications.

One of the inquiries we get posed to by our clients is whether to pick a manually operated machine or motorized one and if motorized is chosen, would it be a good idea for us we pick a machine with Computer Control and inclusive of data acquisition. So, we should check out at this according to a point of view of a spring manufacturer.

There are two elements which go with this choice simpler. The first and most clear one is the price. Manually operated machines are less expensive obviously, then motorized lastly computerized. In any case, in the event that you are taking a heavier spring which are utilized in train bogies or airplanes, then, at that point, motorized ones must be utilized no matter what the budget. Imaging putting a pressure power of 5000 kg on a spring, (for example, the ones utilized under the train bogies) with a hand wheel. Indeed, even with utilization of a geared 3 train it's diligent effort.

Whenever that is chosen, the other element which is significant is the volume of testing. A spring manufacturer can let out a huge number of springs a day. The question then is whether to do batch testing or 100% testing. Batch testing is where you pick a couple of tests from the batch, test them and assuming all are good you say that the entire batch is good. In such cases a manual machine would be satisfactory. However, if one wants to test several thousand springs a day it's smarter to go for a motorized machine and reduce the burden of manual labour on the machine operator.

So, we decided on a manual or motorized machine. Subsequent stage in the development is whether to get a computer-controlled machine. These are machines operated straightforwardly from the computer and give the testing output as a force versus displacement chart. This imagines the way of behaving of the spring constantly. Regularly these software’s also provide a statistical report for all the tests, so min, max, standard deviation etc. and so forth. Are accessible as reports. Any large organizations where the report should be imparted to the higher ups who just need an outline of the production quality, these machines are a good decision. Any new product requiring data for approval must be tested on such machines. In many cases the client request that the manufacturer present the report online or in pdf format to avoid any possibility of manipulation. The best way to avoid from this is to utilize a computerized machine.

In specific cases the product you manufacture dictates the type of machine, there are ASTM, IS norms which settle on the decision for you. Be that as it may, for situations where it’s a non-standard product, we trust this article assists you with choosing what's best for you.

[hsmleindia]

Spring Testing Machine (Manually Operated)

Manually operated spring testing machine is a mechanical device used to measure the properties and characteristics of springs. It is designed to apply controlled forces or loads to a spring and measure its deformation or response, allowing for the determination of important parameters such as spring rate, load capacity, stiffness, and resilience. Manually operated spring testing machines are commonly used in quality control laboratories, research and development facilities, and manufacturing environments where springs are produced or utilized. They provide a cost-effective and practical solution for assessing the performance and compliance of springs, aiding in the design, selection, and optimization of springs for various applications.

[arimoonlight1]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐬~ 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞 ˣ 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐏𝐨𝐜!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐜:𝟏.𝟑𝐤

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐳𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞́, 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚 (𝐘𝐨𝐮!) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧— 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!: @𝐥𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐥𝐱𝐳𝐳𝐳

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 😔 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

You’d worked at The Blue Note for just over a year now—long enough to learn the regulars, memorize the creaky spot on the floor near the back table, and perfect your morning playlist rotation. The place was known for its velvet couches, jazz-stained walls, and blues that poured like warm molasses every Friday night.

And Sammie was part of that rhythm.

He’d first walked in one spring evening, guitar strapped over his shoulder, looking like he’d just stepped off a train from somewhere important. He wasn’t the loudest guy in the room. He didn’t demand attention. But somehow, the moment he walked in, the air shifted.

“Double espresso, no sugar,” he said every Friday, always with that same slow smile, like he was testing a joke only the two of you understood.

“You ever try anything else?” you asked him once, sliding the cup across with a teasing raise of your brow.

He leaned forward, his voice low. “Don’t fix what already keeps me up thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

You laughed it off, but your heart stuttered a little, like it had missed a step. He’d left the cup half-empty that night, but stayed later than usual, just strumming soft chords even after the set ended, eyes occasionally flicking up to where you were wiping down tables.

Weeks passed, and the flirting became routine—if a little shy. He’d linger longer, sit closer to the counter. Once, he brought you a record from a local shop, wrapped in brown paper.

“Thought you’d like this. Got a voice kinda like yours—smooth, but got bite.”

You turned it over, reading the label. “Mmm, Ella Washington. I’ll give it a spin.”

“She might not be better than you, though.”

You raised a brow. “You haven’t heard me sing.”

“I don’t need to. Heard you talk.”

That stuck with you for days.

One Friday night in August, you were elbow-deep in dishes when Sammie showed up earlier than usual. He walked in like the summer heat was chasing him and stopped just shy of the counter.

“Hey,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Got somethin’ new tonight. Thought I’d try it out.”

“Original?” you asked, drying your hands on a towel.

He gave a slow nod, brown eyes not quite meeting yours. “Yeah… Been sittin’ on it a while.”

“Well,” you said, leaning in, “I’ll be listening.”

The place filled up fast—folks packing in like it was church. The scent of coffee beans and cinnamon rolls wrapped around you like a shawl. Sammie stepped onto the stage just as the golden-hour light dipped behind the windows. He tuned his guitar, cleared his throat, then looked straight at you.

“This one’s about someone who makes the best coffee I ever had. But it’s not the coffee that keeps me comin’ back.”

Your breath caught, towel frozen mid-fold.

Then he played.

𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕,

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅,

𝑨 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆.

His voice was warm and a little frayed at the edges—like the last note of a long day. The whole café hushed. You could hear a spoon stir, a breath hitch. But mostly, you heard him. Really heard him.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝑰'𝒎 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚,

𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒆,

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕𝒍𝒚

𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒆.

You stood frozen behind the counter, the heat from the espresso machine rising behind you. Every line sank in, delicate and slow. You didn’t know where to look except at him, and he never looked away from you.

When the song ended, the room burst into applause—but Sammie didn’t seem to hear it. He stepped off stage, guitar still in hand, and walked straight to you.

“Well?” he asked, voice barely above the hum of the ceiling fan. “Too forward?”

You blinked, feeling warm. “I—no. It was… beautiful.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding it all night. “Been workin’ up the nerve to ask you out for months now. Kept waitin’ for the perfect moment, but turns out they don’t really come. So I made one.”

You smiled, heart pounding. “So this is you asking me out?”

He nodded, finally brave enough to hold your gaze. “Would’ve done it sooner, but you always look so busy. I figured you’d say no.”

“Then you don’t know me that well.”

He tilted his head, hopeful. “So that’s a yes?”

You tapped your fingers against the counter like you were playing a piano key. “Only if we split fries. And I get first pick on the jukebox.”

Sammie grinned, dimples deepening. “Deal.”

Later, at Melba’s Diner, the two of you slid into a cracked red booth under flickering neon lights. The place smelled like fried catfish and vanilla milkshake. You shared a plate of golden fries and laughed at how sticky the menu pages were.

“So,” Sammie asked, sipping sweet tea, “what’s your dream? Can’t imagine you wanna sling lattes forever.”

You smirked. “Actually, I want my own spot one day. Something cozy—vinyl records, poetry nights, live sets. Maybe call it Sugar & Sound.”

He whistled low. “That’s got a ring to it. Sounds like a place I’d wanna play.”

“You’d be on the rotation,” you said, popping a fry in your mouth. “But only if you write another song about me.”

He chuckled. “You keep makin’ me nervous behind that counter, and I’ll have a whole album before you know it.”

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “What about you? This always the plan?”

“Always,” he said, running a thumb along the rim of his glass. “But lately… I’ve been wantin’ more than just songs.”

The silence that followed was thick—but not uncomfortable. You let your hand drift over the table, and he met you halfway, fingers brushing. Soft. Easy.

The jukebox kicked into Otis Redding’s These Arms of Mine, scratchy and soulful. Sammie leaned back, watching you with the kind of look that could melt the ice in your cup.

“Guess I got lucky,” he murmured.

You smiled, letting your fingers stay tangled in his. “Yeah. I think we both did.”