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violetdoestarot · 3 months ago

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♡₊・₊✧ A Prose Of Your Essence *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Basically how I would write about you/your essence from the eyes of a lover or as if I were in love with you! P.S feedback is appreciated :)

✴︎˚｡⋆ Pile 1 ➛ Pile 2 ➛ Pile 3 ✴︎˚｡

Pile 1

I yearn for you, like a gilded poet in a golden cage. I’m rotting in here, lend me a taste? Oh lover, wherefore art thou, my lover? A bite in my cheek, the taste of blood in my tongue would be less metallic than this. You are charismatic, magnetic, and a fearless leader. I always knew I wasn’t the only one to know that. But lover, put your eyes only on me. Rest those electric conductors of your soul onto me. I’m begging. A sharp tongue but soft on mine. A purveyor of words and a knight of the eclectic mind. But oh, I know you love so thoroughly and so generously. You think you are inept at love but sweetheart, who is love for but the fool? Let me be the only receiver of your naivety. Don’t push yourself away from me. Come to me, for you beckon me with your intellect. Others manipulate with honey but I know your honesty tastes sweeter like cinnamon. You detach as quickly as metal, hot and cold, oh, but I know who you are. The core of your soul builds a home for you and me. With sharpened rocks at the bed you know, always remember a warm sheet for you at mine. With cyanotic lips of yours from the blizzard you knew, always know I’d revive them with mine. Every single time, with my heart at my throat hoping you’d feel the beat at your tongue. Let yourself love. Let the hearth at your chest warm up again. For I know lies there a golden heart extinguished by vicissitudes of life. We’re both in tattered rags and gluttonous eyes looking at church windows looking for a scrap of divine love, without knowing we have it right here—in each other’s embrace and tapestry of luxury. So slow down, my love. I fell in love with your passion but feel no need to be restless. Hold my hand, I’ll be the anchor to your raft adrift at an unforgiving sea.

(Damn, Pile 1, y’all got me yearning for you lol)

Pile 2

The light flickers at our place, violent like a police alarm. Still, it feels like home. Maybe it’s the warmth at your touch, the creases from your fingers as they hold my cheek and the calluses that caresses every fiber in me. I feel so soft and safe in your embrace. Like you’d shield me from the world and lift the curtain at the same time. Your eyes are like a yolk of sunlight at sea. So warm, loving, and just—yellow. If I were a fisherman of the myths, I’d wake up at dawn to catch such rarity at the surface of the waves. Maybe even travel to wherever the sea and sky kisses and intrude upon the lovers just to catch a material of your essence. Let the historians speak of your geniality and how you’d catch everyone’s favor with your smile, and poets of my being enslaved because of it. As you trace the night sky’s Cassiopeia, Cepheus to the north and west, Andromeda to the south—let me trace the pores of your skin in the same loop. You’re vulnerable, so let me be your protector in return. I promise I’ll keep you safe. Show me your shadows, the bones deep in your closet that’s webbed and never to be seen again. I don’t care. Whether you tame, placate, or let loose your inner beasts does not matter. I’ll embrace them with open arms even if the lion gnaws on my flesh. I’ll treat my skin bones as steel when that happens. So generous with your heart and patience, my love. Is it too selfish to wish it could only be directed at me? You can accomplish anything you desire, I only hope I am one of them. Let me be the one to stand beside you as you celebrate your wins with that enchanting smile and be the one to make a sanctuary inside the closet full of secrets you’ll seal your lips shut for. Do not tempt me in if you have no intention to keep me. Who knew the devil spoke no malice but of whispers of strength and promises of love?

Pile 3

If you’re the jack of all trades, I’d be the ringmaster of your fabric to let everyone know my lover is the headliner of every act. How does it feel to light up a room when you walk in? It’s as if the gods carefully crafted a wreath around your head so everybody’s attention is on you. You’re the hero of every epic and the valiant savior of every fairytale. I’d inject your halo into my veins if I could and get high on it. I’ll follow you, wherever you are. Like a shadow warning you of danger, the bane of enemies who wish for your downfall, and a companion in case you decide to step out of the armor you call protection and I call pride. Maybe the tree you climbed up in was more hollow than you thought. Maybe when you planted it, you didn’t realize insects were already infesting on it—the bark rotting inside silently. But that’s okay, I’ll be the pile of leaves beneath ready to catch you when you fall. What’s the burden you carry in your heart, darling? Let it go. Don’t worry, I’ll hold your hand as the kerosene overpowers the rotting smell. And I’ll interlace my fingers with yours as you set the lifeline you built on fire. Let hope be the stalemate of despair.

I am in forever awe of your imagination. Let me into your world? Don’t just let me have a taste or a fraction, let me feast on it. Let me cherish each word borne from that diamond mine like scripture. Let me be your muse even as you become a poet like me’s nightmare. I’ll shed my skin raw for your carnal pleasure, for I know you’d wear it on your sodden form like victory.

#tarotcommunity #tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card #tarot pick a card reading #love readings #love pac #love tarot #tarot love #love tarot readings #love reading #your essence #soul readings #personality tarot readings #soul tarot reading #free tarot #tarot free reading #daily tarot

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asteroidtroglodyte · 1 month ago

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I just spent so long trying to understand that post about glass. As somebody who thinks glass is extremely cool but doesn't know a whole lot about how it's made, we're you saying that clear glass is entirely colorless by definition? Also do you have a good resource to learn out clear glass being invented in the 15th century? If not I'll Google it. I'm a history nerd so this is right up my ally. Thanks for reading all that I hope to hear back from you if it's not too much trouble.

So, for clarity’s sake (heh), I’ll start off by pointing out that photons of Visible Light do not go through glass in the same way that Radio or Microwave photons do. The scale of Visible Light is small enough to meaningfully interact with the crystalline lattice of most stones, glass included. In order to be optically clear, a piece of glass must transmit the signal coherently through its bulk mass, and emit an image out the other side. Clear glass, in response to Visible Light, behaves more akin to how an electrical conductor (like wire) interacts with electricity than an absence or void would. This is, incidentally, why we can make optical devices like lenses and glasses and telescopes out of clear glass.

Glassmaking in the Mediterranean owes much to a few key events. Firstly, there was a tradition of artistic glass working in Byzantium many centuries ago, a descendant of Glassmaking traditions from Rome and the Levant, which peaked in the 10th century.

Many families knowledgeable in such things would eventually flee the fall of that empire west, into Venetian territory. Unfortunately for the wood-framed-building-inhabiting people of Venice, the glassworks would often spark municipal fires, so in the 13th century the Doge of Venice banished them to a mist-shrouded island prison set them all up on the island of Murano, under guard, creating an Artist’s Colony of Glassmaking families.

This arrangement worked out well for all involved for several centuries. Although the Glassmakers were not permitted to leave, they had access to all the raw materials of a far-flung trade network, state protection, wealth, and prestige; and Venice had an in-house luxury export that constantly evolved as the various families of craftsmen flexed on each other, trying to one-up each other with innovations in color, hardness, and form.

The far-flung trade network was important, as it allowed for very pure samples of a wide variety of chemically active minerals to be made available to these workshops. Critically, these ingredients included pebbles of very pure quartz, and Alume Catino, a form of soda ash from the Levant.

Ultimately this culminated in the 15th century invention of Venetian Cristallo: a perfectly clear synthetic Rock Crystal Glass. This cemented Murano as center of the Glass-making world in the west for 2 centuries, until the English discovered that adding Lead Oxide to the process also produced a clear glass that was cheaper to make and easier to work.

The ability of these, and later, clear glasses to be ground into optical lenses, and the resultant invention of telescope and microscopes, would kick-start scientific elements of the Renaissance, and the relatively inexpensive and high-quality mirrors and spectacles produced would kick-start the symmetrical Renaissance in Philosophy and Moral Theory.

To circle back to your question:

Glass is a transmitter of light. A photon hits a spot in the crystalline lattice and sets off a chain reaction of vibrations in the atomic lattice of the glass, which, upon reaching the far side of the glass bulk, release an equivalent photon. In optically clear glasses, this is done in such an orderly and coherent manner that actual resolvable images emerge. That said, I reiterate for clarity: photons are destroyed and created by this process. What emerges is not what went in.

The inclusion of metal oxides such as Soda Ash and Lead oxide is necessary to furnish particular metallic ingredients into the crystalline lattice of the glass. This provides forms of long-range order conducive to signal transmission. Remember, glassy materials are defined by a variable degree of long-range order in their lattice structure. No order; you get scattering; and the light that emerges is a hazy white color. Choose particular metals to also dope your molten glass with, and the glass will emit particular frequencies: this is what we call colored glass, or stained glass. The reasons those dopants resonate at those frequencies of light are Electro-Chemical and Quantum, and beyond the scope of this post.

Glass is one of the Foundation Stones of modern, technologically advanced Civilization. Modern glass is nothing less than a Miracle of Artifice, crafted by skilled hands across dozens of generations. Our Ancestors worked very hard to give us this. It is good for us to tell their stories.

Hope that gave you a good place to start! Enjoy your journey! There is much still to learn!

#glass #the first Looking Glass #Venetian glassmakers #history #ask #troglodyte thoughts #free range sustainable shitpost

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djarinova · 4 months ago

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[01:34 am] - rafayel x f!reader

˗ˏ✎ synopsis:- rafayel is unable to stop himself from getting handsy as the two of you dance under the rainbow lights.

˗ˏcontent - reader + rafayel are drunk, needy!rafayel, reader is wearing a dress, rafayel is jealous, he pulls up your dress slightly in a crowd of people so he can feel your ass, public making out - divider by @/saradika

˗ˏwc - 1021

The strobing lights from above the crowd reflect enticingly off of your skin, the glistening beads of sweat allow your body to be littered in speckles of red and blue and purple. Rafayel's hands grip your hips, acting as the only way of communication between the two of you—the music is loud, the thumping from the speakers sends vibrations from your feet all the way to your head—and as the conductor of how the two of you dance. There's something so intoxicating about having you submit to every push and pull of his hands, knowing that you'll allow him to have control of the flow and rhythm of your body.

Rafayel bites his lip, the sudden rush of blood heading south leaves him feeling lightheaded. His mind is cloudy with an inspiring mix of euphoria and an almost uncomfortable level of hunger. He can feel the curves of your chest against his body, the rise and fall of your breathing, the heat radiating from your skin. At every point where the two of you meet Rafayel feels his skin tingle with anticipation. The electricity between you converges at these small, inconsequential places of contact, and each time you touch Rafayel he feels as though you're sending a bolt of lightning straight through his body—it thrums throughout him, into the tiniest corners of his very being. It makes him feel like a madman.

Surely you must be noticing this too?

You feel him squeeze your hips—if you had been any more sober it would have hurt because of how hard he squeezed—and you look up to find his eyes waiting for you. With a tilt of your head you question him, are you okay? But he shakes your concern off with a nod and a laugh, the darkness of which you couldn't possibly hope to hear over the music…

Rafayel doesn't think he'll ever get sick of the sight of you dancing. He watches as your concern bleeds back into joy, your eyes screw shut as his hands start to explore your figure. The dark red of your dress is absolutely maddening for Rafayel. The colour doesn't usually affect him like this, but this shade… it brings out such a primal feeling inside of him and, coupled with the number of drinks you've shared this evening and the amount of wandering eyes he's seen gawking at you, it's about to pounce on you like nothing you've ever experienced.

Rafayel's hands settle back on your hips, and for a brief second you think he's giving you a respite from all his needy touching. But then he draws you closer, a hand quickly appears at your jaw and with his index finger under your chin Rafayel tilts your head upwards. His other hand ventures south again and he starts massaging the flesh of your ass. A startled sound escapes you as he searches blindly for your bare skin beneath your dress, but his mouth is on yours before your mind is able to catch up with his actions.

You melt into the kiss, your hands slinking around his neck in search of something soft to hold on to, and the noise of the club seems to fade away completely. All you're able to focus on is him. The way he chases you, desperate and pleading, as you try to pull away for air. The way he whines into your mouth when you take his lower lip between your teeth. The way his hands are pushing you as close to his body as humanly possible, your hips flush against him, and when you feel something hard pressing against you through the thin material of your dress it's like a jolt of electricity passes into you. Your eyes flutter as they roll back into your head and as your hand begins to palm his hardness through his trousers Rafayel seems to lose his very last shred of composure.

He pulls away from you lightning fast, you notice a small trail of saliva sticking to his chin and smile. He steps around you to pull down the back of your dress and grabs you by the hand, pulling you towards the exit and out of the doors without so much as a word. You stumble, the fresh air hits you like a freight train and the alcohol suddenly feels much more intoxicating than before.

Rafayel catches you, somehow much more steady than you despite having the same number, if not more, of shots as you.

“Careful there little one,” he smirks, already pulling out his phone and getting a car to come pick you up.

He tells you it'll be 10 minutes. The words are whispered against your neck, his face finding itself a refuge between your ear and your collarbone. He nips at you, making you whine, the tender skin above your collarbone becomes almost raw with how long his mouth is attached to it. His teeth act as small talons to scratch and claw at you with, his tongue rolls over the delicate marks, a bruise already beginning to form on your skin from where it was sucked on so meticulously by the untamed artist.

He pulls away when the loudness of the club starts to infiltrate the quiet night air. Now that you can get a clear look at him the full blown lust in his eyes cannot be mistaken. It makes you feel giddy.

“You okay, sweet one?” He asks, the tips of his ears are bright and you can see the beginnings of his embarrassment starting to surface across his cheeks too.

“Y-yeah,” you splutter, “I-I'm okay.”

You smile as Rafayel reaches an arm over your shoulder. He pulls you against the side of his chest, and you can hear the thumping of his heart against your back when you reposition yourself. Standing back-to-chest the two of you wait on the curb for the car.

Rafayel is unable to stop his hands from wandering over your figure, but the night is beginning to get tired and the people are few and far between, so the overly touchy—and visibly drunk—couple go largely unnoticed.

#drops this and skips away twirling my hair <3 #he so pookie i fear im in deep #<- i have never used that word in my life. he's changing me #BABIE !!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEE #rafayel lads fic #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x you #rafayel lads x reader #sage.fic

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typewritingyip · 6 months ago

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Eighteen - Headaches

Part Seventeen

———

Copper, a surprisingly good conductor of heat and electricity. It’s used for building materials and in various alloys. It is used in wiring, plumbing, and industrial applications, such as mecha suits.

They are also used for a number of other applications, the metal is malleable and can be bent into ideal shapes for specific applications. It has antibacterial properties and is resistant to corrosion, it’s often used in the making of spirits. The heat applied is spread evening to the surface area and can heat the liquor evenly to make the process simple enough that it has been known to happen in military housing or on fronts.

Copper stills range in size and capabilities, able to make several types of liquor depending on the resources accessible to the user. They can make whiskey, though the aging process takes a considerable amount more time in separate barrels, than several clear liquors such as vodka, gin, and moonshine. All taking different ingredients and time frames.

Though distilling without a license is illegal in the United States, it doesn’t stop people from learning how to distill their own liquor and distilling in international territory depends on whose territory you are currently at host to.

—

The apartment was nearly cold and they were all out of their suits, Prowl had yet to make an appearance as he was still dealing with details down at central. For the moment, Hound was up in Breakdown's suit and had his tool kit with him. It had been moved from the Odyssey the first time one of them burst a line, the poor shuttle was getting less and less use the longer they were working with the Cybertronian’s. Breakdown was laying down in their makeshift bedroom, it was a platform with cots on it for them all in the bedroom, so the lights were turned down in there for him. Sunstreaker was watching Hound work, trying to take in the repairs and understand what he was doing, but unlike Hound who’d worked on military machinery before being a pilot the only experience Sunstreaker had was super-charging cars. Sure, there was some overlap but not nearly enough.

Hound swore and pulled his hand back, it was covered in oil from a burst line, though the glove he wore protected him somewhat, “Sonny, grab me that line clamp.” His hands were halfway into Breakdown’s shoulder by the time Sunstreaker handed over the clamp, “Fuck, I’ll have to get fluid for the system.” They worked like that, every few minutes Hound would swear and Sunstreaker would dive into the tool kit for something he needed, “I’m going to hold this piece back, you’re going to go in with the wrench to finish the repair.” Pausing, Sunstreaker looks up, “But, I don’t know how to repair a suit,” “And you’re going to learn cause my hands can’t reach the inner joint.” Sighing deeply, Sunstreaker adjusted his stance on the plating before going into the joint.

It took then a few hours to get the arm adjusted and recalibrated, Knockout did a great job but the lines needed to be redone in the spare material from earth, the cybertronian stuff just wouldn’t hold up to the suit's weight or stress.

Sideswipe comes out of the bathroom, groaning, “Are you two almost done up there? I want to head into Iacon Central.” Sunstreaker gives him a look, face streaked in oil and grease, “Sides, now is not the time. If we don’t get Breakdown’s suit repaired everyone will start to figure out what they're not supposed to.” He crossed his arms, frowning, “Well Prowl doesn’t want us going into town by ourselves, Jazz is asleep, and you two are more so breaking Breakdown’s suit.” Sunstreaker groaned and pulled away from the wires, pointing at his brother, “Just, hang on,” Shaking his head, Hound turned toward them both, “If you two are just going to bicker do it elsewhere. I need to focus.” Sunstreaker turned, “But Hound,” “Now Sunstreaker. If this isn’t repaired before our meeting with Joan— I mean the Prime, damnit, then they’ll insist that Breakdown goes to Knockout again.” Sunstreaker sighed slowly, “And he’ll actually run the scans this time,” “Only to find a tiny organic in his chest instead of the typical spark.” Sideswipe almost looked sheepish, almost, “So please, for the love of god, go argue somewhere else. But don’t disturb Breakdown.” Hound wipes a hand across his forehead, smearing the grease across it while he goes back into the repair. Leaving the twins glaring at each other.

—

Hound was the only one going to the meeting, Jazz was taking the twins into central Iacon just to shut them up for a klick or two and Breakdown was still resting though his suit was at least repaired. Hound had a pounding headache, once Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had stopped arguing they’d turned music on just low enough to not wake Breakdown but loud enough to grate at Hound’s migraine. Prowl had come to let them all know they were effectively free and Jazz had made quick work of cornering the twins, “Let’s go into Iacon Central, go to the market. Hey, there is a pretty cool upgrades place I think you two will love.” Sunstreaker had tried to argue but Sideswipe covered his mouth with a far to practiced ease, “Yead, that sounds great. Just the three of us hitting the town. We can get the stuff for our project while we’re out.” There was a moment of pause before Sunstreaker lout out the biggest and most dramatic sigh Hound had ever seen, “Fine, but only for the parts we need.” Jazz was grinning, which couldn’t be a good sign. His head was pounding.

”I worry I don’t even want to ask what you’re getting parts for,” Hound was back in his suit, rubbing his forehead as the twins to into their respective cockpits, “Oh don’t worry commander,” That was never a good sign, “This will be something we all can enjoy, after a few tweaks.” And that really wasn’t a good sign, “We’ll have to stop by the Odyssey for some stuff too Jazz.” Sunstreaker was the first up, stretching lightly while waiting on his brother, “Oh yeah, if we could get this stuff going tonight it would be perfect.” Hound’s head was throbbing and their conversation was not going to help ease it, Jazz laughed, “Yeah, we can stop in at the warehouse on the way back.” Sideswipe stood and started to usher the pair out, “Alright, don’t wait up. We’ll see you two sticks in the mud tonight.” The door slid open and shut harshly, as if they were able to slam a door like that.

Prowl stood there, staring after where the three of them went with a frown, “Should we be concerned?” “Definitely.” Sighing Hound moved around and grabbed the tablet that he’d been given when they landed, rubbing his face, “Is Breakdown joining us?” Shaking his head, Hound tucked the tablet into his chute holder, “No, I’ve ordered him to rest and last I checked he was sound asleep.” Prowl nodded slowly, frowning, “Will he be alright?” With a nod, Hound starts towards the door, “It’s a concussion, he just needs rest and time to heal.” “I don’t think Jazz has had a concussion before,” Prowl’s voice was tinted with concern, “Well, after you’ve had one you’re far more susceptible. The older suits, like Breakdown's, don't have all the same protections for concussive force.” He knocked lightly against his chest, “Or the same structure for the assistance suits. We have this guy, named Blur, he used to race back on Earth. he said it would be smart to put something called a HANS device in. Most of ours are attached to the piloting seat then clip onto our suits, Breakdown only got one installed before the mission.” Sighing a bit, Hound shields his eyes a bit as they go out into the hall, “It won’t stop everything, but it’s meant to help for impacts and things.” Prowl nodded slowly, watching before falling into step with Hound.

They walked together in silence, which Hound was grateful for, able to turn down his audio receivers for a bit before Prowl cleared his throat, “Hound, are you feeling alright?” He was thankful the mech kept his voice low, sighing as he nodded a bit, “Yes, Prowl. I’m alright. Just a headache.” Prowl’s steps slowed, he was frowning, “Do you want to postpone the meeting? I know that when Jazz gets headaches they can be helped with being in the dark and not in your suit.” Sighing, Hound shook his head, “No, no the meeting is too important to postpone. Plus, it could help with some of my headache. Once we’re there I’ll take something for it.” Nodding, Prowl fell back into silence, Hound smiled a bit, “So, uh, How are things with Jazz?” Prowl chuckled lightly, shaking his head, “I can see small talk carries over no matter the species.” With a shrug, Hound looks at him, “Well?” Prowl shook his head.

It didn’t take long to hear what though, “Things, as you phrased it, with Jazz are fine.” Hound hummed and Prowl almost whipped around, “I know that tone.” Laughing and holding his head, Hound held up his other hand, “You can’t answer the question with just rephrasing it on Earth, otherwise people will definitely think things aren’t fine.” Prowl sighed, rolling his eyes a bit to Hound’s amusement, “Then Jazz and I are doing well, certainly better than others.” There was a touch of tone there that Hound thought sounded like sarcasm but this was Prowl, nodding a bit, Hound cleared his throat a bit, “I take it you spoke with Mirage and found out what uh, a word that doesn’t translate is.” Frowning, Prowl shook his head, “What are you talking about?” At least you could count on Prowl for being the last one to hear the gossip, “Mirage and I were speaking on the shuttle back here, I mentioned being divorced—“ Prowl almost jumped out of his plating, “Which clearly translates to something horrible but it’s just the legal separation between two people on Earth, two people who were married but no longer want to be.” It took a minute for Prowl to be able to speak, “That word translates into the breaking and permanent separation of a joined spark,” He takes a breath, “It effectively would mean, for us, that your Conjux has since passed and that is an incredibly painful experience.” Nodding a bit, Hound sighed, “Yeah, I figured it was something like that. No, I was married young and it didn’t work out for a lot of reasons, but she’s not dead.” Prowl cracked a smile at that, nodding.

The sunshine made his head throb again, wincing a bit as he turned down the brightness of his visual feed. Prowl rested a hand lightly on his arm, “Are you sure,” “Prowl, this meeting needs to happen.” His steps stalled for a moment, “Why?” Hound sighed and glanced back towards the apartment building, “We need to rethink the structure of our team, right now if we continue the direction that we are, I doubt it’ll end well.” “Meaning?” Prowl was trying hard to keep his tone neutral, but Hound knew, “On Earth, pilots rarely work with other pilots, because we’re all stubborn and hardheaded. We don’t take orders well and the risk of death is high, the longer you work with another pilot the more connected you get and when they get hurt or worse it becomes harder to do the mission.” His hands clasp at his sides, taking a deep breath, “In the last two days we had one pilot try to kill a specialist and another got hurt, it will only continue to happen if we remain in the structure that we currently are.” Prowl was just staring at him, his eyes focusing and unfocusing, clearly running the statement through his tacnet. Hound waited, nodding his head slightly when Prowl looked at him and not through him, “That’s why this meeting is important, I need to discuss spreading out my team with Optimus Prime, a higher chance of survival and success for all of us.” Prowl bowed his head slightly, staring at the 97.6% in the corner of his own visual feed, the number that had been rising since their arrival.

Stepping onto the transport, Prowl fell silent again as Hound sagged into a seat, wanting to give him some relief to his migraine. In that moment, he could truly see the title commander written all over his plating, having seen both Optimus and Megatron fight these same internal battles over the years. Sidestepping slightly, he blocks the worst of the sun from Hound’s visual feeds, crossing his arms and guarding his friend from what little he could, either the sun or the stares of other Cybertronian’s.

—

Iacon Central was beautiful, it honestly reminded Sideswipe a lot of Miami and eased some of the homesickness. Though it was also staggeringly different, with the transformation lanes and flight-frames overhead buzzing the buildings every few minutes. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time, him and Sunstreaker were following Jazz down the road, “We need copper, preferably copper tubing but still copper and an oversized cube.” Jazz looks over his shoulder, “What are you two planning?” Sunstreaker scoffs, “We. Aren't planning anything. He planned it and I’m going to build it.” Sideswipe clasped his hand against his twin's shoulder, “Oh come on, this was always the dream, we just have the space for it now.” Jazz’s visor darken slightly, “I don’t like that you’re using my apartment for unknown mystery projects.” Sideswipe comes up and throws an arm around his shoulders, “Jazz, I swear, you are going to love this. Now,” “Yeah yeah, copper tubing and a giant cube. I heard ya.” Sunstreaker sighed deeply, still dragging his feet a bit as they headed into the marketplace.

—

Autobot Central, now known as the headquarters of the primal vanguard, was massive and reminded Hound of some state capitals back on Earth. Not in the appearance really but in its grand scale. Prowl and him were climbing the steps to the main entrance, several guards standing out front stoic as statues though they opened the gate as they got to it, “Thanks,” Hound nodded to them slightly as they went through, Prowl nodding as well, “I have primary access.” That made a lot of sense. They had to climb more steps to the building, sighing a bit Hound followed Prowl up and inside.

The halls were massive, even by the standards of mechs it was huge, certainly bigger than any of the warehouses that Hound’s suit had been stored in. A few of the mecha that they passed were familiar but none were ones that Hound knew well. Prowl nodded to a few, keeping a low voice and telling Prowl who they passed, “That was Tracks, generally not friendly. That one is Swerve and no, I don’t know why he’s acting like he saw a ghost. He acts the same way around Jazz, and primus go this way.” He redirects Hound with a shove down a separate hallway, “If we ran into Starstream we’d never make it to the meeting.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding a bit, “Yeah, I know plenty of people like that back home.” They kept walking together though going quiet as the number of people dwindled the deeper they got into the fortress.

Ironhide stood outside the door, looking bored, “Took the two of you long enough to get here,” He smiles, “Everyone is inside, I’ll join you as soon as my replacement shows up.” Prowl nodded and scanned in for the door, letting Hound enter first.

Hound had seen this room over video several times but had never been inside, it was command, the main command that Prowl generally worked from. Looking to Prowl, who simply shrugged, they entered. There weren’t many people in the room, Megatron and Optimus Prime were sitting towards the front of the room, talking quietly with each other. Mirage was standing to the side with a mech that Hound didn’t know, Red Alert was on the command desk with another mech that Hound really didn’t know though had what was best described as a cat in his lap. There was a pink mecha stood to the side with a flight frame that looked a great deal like the Starscream that Prowl had insisted they avoid. Hound knew several seekers though and was at least vaguely familiar with the frame type, how they stuck to groups of three or trines, as well as what happened to the trine if one or more of them died. Optimus looks up and the smile reached his eyes, the room almost growing uncomfortably warm, “Hound, just the mecha we were waiting on, please come have a seat and once Ironhide is able to join us we can start.” Nodding a bit, Hound moved over and took a seat that looked the least comfortable, he could hear one mech sigh from relief before they took a different seat.

It didn’t take very long before Ironhide was able to join them, two other Seekers following him in before joining the blue one across the table from him, though one distinctly taking the seat near Megatron, Optimus nodded before sitting up, “Right, now that we’re all here we can start. Hound, I understand there is something you desire to discuss with us?” Nodding a bit, Hound pulled the tablet he had from his plating and set it on the table, “I want to restructure my unit, sir.” Everyone was watching intently now and Hound was far from a public speaker, “I think it will be best for the war and our joint effort.” Megatron tilted his head slightly, “How so?” Hound sighed slowly, “On Earth,” “You’re not on Earth, your on Cybertron,” And he suddenly understood why that mech was called Starscream, he winced slightly and turned the audio receivers down more, “On Earth, those of us found compatible are more often spread out across the planet to defend cities or regions.” Optimus nodded slowly, folding his hands, “Pilots, what we are called, we don’t work in units. We work with crews and teams in command, soldiers on the ground, but not other people who fight like we do. It’s too much of a liability, too much of a risk.” Megatron shifted in his seat, looking to Optimus, who held up a hand to let Hound continue to speak.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Hound cleared his throat a bit, “With Breakdown getting hurt in the manner that he did, plus the disagreement between Sideswipe and Bluestreak, it’s becoming apparent to me that we need to be split amongst your units for the best outcome.” Starscream scoffed and several others looked around uneasily. Megatron was glowering, “As Starscream said, you are not on Earth, so why is it that your suggesting we follow the suicidal path that they had you on before?” Hound shook his head, pushing up off the table, “The last two days are only the start, it will continue to grow worse. When Breakdown got hurt it took two of us from the fight and if the others had been alerted it would have been all of us. It’s how we work, how we function.” Sighing, Hound picks up the tablet and offers it down the table, “I would suggest that we break up with mecha we’re familiar with and can work well with. This is what I would suggest.” Optimus takes it and quickly plugs the tablet into the table, bringing the files up in front of their eyes.

Megatron stared and set his jaw, “I don’t know how it is done on Earth, but we do not split up split sparks, ever. The fact that you rate suggesting it with your own kind.” Hound shook his head, “Being split spark is being two halves of the same whole effectively, from the moment that you are sparked. Well, it is not like that for us. Yes, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were born on the same day, within minutes of each other to the same creators but they aren’t connected in the same manner, they can be physically separated for a period of time with limited psychological distress.” Optimus rubs his forehead and a few of the mecha shifted uncomfortably, Hound cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Sideswipe attacked Bluestreak because of a misunderstanding dealing with his brother and it will only grow worse the longer that those three work together, but I think Sunstreaker and Bluestreak are well paired for this.” He took a breath, “It won’t be permanent, I think we should only be separated for around a quartex or so, then reevaluated.” Slowly sitting back down, he folded his hands a bit anxiously, Optimus was nodding slowly and looked over, “Prowl, your thoughts?” Prowl nodded and plugged a drive into the table, “Every fight, their risk of death grows while ours has decreased rapidly, if my projections are correct then their risk will fall while separated and ours should remain mostly unchanged.” Megatron’s fist collided with the table, no one flinched but Ironhide winced, “Damn.”

”It isn’t right and we all know it.” He was practically growling, Optimus sighed and shook his head, “We know Megatron, but what else is there to do with such poor projections?” They stared at each other, clearly speaking over comms as the others around the table started to whisper to one another. Hound shifted a bit, “We know that these smaller attacks are happening both on Cybertron and in Cybertronian space, sending all five of us to one location isn’t going to help those areas.” Prowl sat back, staring off in the middle distance, “They are the units which now are taking the heaviest losses.” Hound nodded slightly, sighing, Megatron looked up, “I want to maintain two of you for my unit, not the twins since you seem so dead set on separating the pair,” “Megatron,” Megatron waves Optimus off, “You and Breakdown will remain with me, since Knockout has taken such a likely to the mech, once he is healed he can join us.” Nodding, Hound scratched at his jaw a bit, “I think that is fair,” “Also, we are going to have Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in separate units but in the same detail.” Optimus leans forward slightly, “I can understand why you feel the need to separate them and they will spend their off time apart, but they work better together in the fight than not, I can assume.” Nodding again, Hound sighs, “And Jazz?” Prowl leaned forward a bit, “Will return to his speciality work, what he was doing before you all arrive. It gives us four speciality units instead of one without losing much.” Hound bit his tongue lightly and nodded, it wasn’t what he’d been asking for but it was certainly better than their current downward spiral.

Optimus nods and looks to the pink mecha, “Elita, I want you to take Sideswipe and Ironhide will take Sunstreaker,” He holds up a hand lightly, “I will be safe in Iacon without you Ironhide while we attempt to deal with situation at hand, I need you in the field with Elita and the others.” “But Prime,” “Would it make you feel better if I were to join you?” The chorus of nos was certainly enough to make Hound wince and lightly hold his head, Megatron was staring at him so he slowly lowered his hand, “I will have Soundwave and be in Iacon, if an attack were to happen here then you’d all fall back to this position regardless.” Hound could see why he was the leader, certainly, once everyone was quiet again Optimus nodded, “We will send out the orders when each team is to depart, but for now there isn’t anything in the nearest system. We will remain on alert,” He pauses before looking to Hound, “Hound, I apologize but now I do have to ask you to leave the meeting, we’ll be discussing planetary objections. Ironhide, Elita, Blaster, Red Alert, Mirage, Skywarp, and Thundercraker will join you.” The two seekers were the first up and out, already talking painfully loudly even as Starscream puts his face in his hands, “They are idiots.” There were a few chuckles as chairs scraped, “Here Hound, I’ll walk you out of headquarters.” Mirage stands and walks over, smiling to Prowl as Hound stands, “Thanks, this place looked like a maze coming in.” “It basically is,” Mirage smiled and started out of the room, Hound glanced toward Megatron and Optimus before saluting and following Mirage out.

Once they’d left the room, Optimus chuckles lightly, “It would seem many of our own continue to find the odd visored mechs, uh, appealing.” Prowl’s faceplates burned as Elita burst out laughing, a hand covering his mouth, even Megatron chuckled.

———

A/N

Considering I had the weekend to write, I will be honest and say I wrote most of this today even though I was very much lacking time.

To be fair, it would have been up around 30 minutes sooner if my room hadn’t caught on fire (it was actually the top of the chimney, and it was hardly a fire) but still.

Things are starting to pick up, the fall out of the next part is going to be very interesting for all included parties, muhahaha.

I also wanted to know if you’d guys want me to link the next part in the pervious post or not? I know I link the previous chapter but I wasn’t sure if after the next part is posted you’d want a link to the next one at the bottom. Or just a link to the masterlist maybe? Which will be getting a revamp very soon.

Tags!

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend

And as always, thank you to the amazing @keferon for this amazing AU! (Sorry for the span in this, 18 parts is a lot)

#transformers #maccadam #tf mecha universe #mech pilot jazz au #the arcturus missions #jazz #prowl #breakdown #hound #sideswipe #sunstreaker #optimus prime #megatron #mirage #red alert #ironhide

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callmemonster68 · 29 days ago

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the master of string - part 1 | p.js - jay

Y/N, an instrumentalist who wishes to master the violin in a supernatural way, summons Jay, a demon who promises to make her the greatest of her generation.

paring: demon!jay x fem!reader 18+ | masterlist

wc: 801

warnings: nsfw, unprotected

Y/N was obsessed with the perfection of the violin. Every day, hours of endless practice, but the sound never seemed to reach the depth she desired. She felt that something beyond the physical was preventing her from achieving true mastery, as if her soul lacked an essential element to free the melody she longed for.

That night, in search of a desperate solution, Y/N decided to take a risk. She invoked an entity she had only heard whispered about among the older musicians: Master Jay, a demon known for his pacts with ambitious artists. She didn't know exactly what to expect, but she believed that her only chance of achieving the impossible was to trust this enigmatic being.

The room was silent, except for the soft sound of his violin. When she finished the invocation, a gust of icy wind swept through the room. Before her, Jay materialized. He was imposing, with golden eyes that shone in the candlelight, and a smile that seemed to carry ancient secrets.

Jay: I see that you wish to play with absolute perfection (his voice a deep whisper that reverberated in the room) But perfection has a price, Y/N. Are you ready to pay it?

She took a deep breath, trying to contain the mix of fear and desire that his gaze stirred within her.

Y/N: Yes. I accept.

Jay extended his hand, and in an instant, Y/N felt a wave of energy pulse through the violin. The strings vibrated as if they were alive, connecting with her in a way she had never experienced before.

Jay: The music and pleasure will be intertwined from now on. You will play for me, and each note will be a reflection of your transformation.

The first sessions started off simply, but soon Y/N realized that something strange happened whenever the violin bow moved. Each chord seemed to awaken sensations in her body, an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that she couldn't explain.

Jay watched her, his golden eyes fixed on her every movement.

Jay: You still don't understand the power of each note (he murmured, slowly approaching) Each touch on the strings releases something within you, something that belongs to me.

She tried to resist, but it was impossible to ignore the heat that grew inside her with each melody. It was as if the violin were an extension of her body, and Jay, the conductor who guided her soul.

That night, after yet another intense session, Jay remained in the room, watching her as she rested with the violin on her lap.

Jay: You are becoming a masterpiece. (his voice laden with something that made her skin crawl)

Y/N: Is this what you want? Transform me into your creation? (trying to keep a firm voice)

Jay: I want more than this, Y/N. I want you.

He approached slowly, his eyes shining like liquid fire. When he stood before her, his hand rose, lightly touching her face. The simple touch sent a wave of electricity through her body, and their eyes met in a moment charged with tension.

Jay: Tell me to stop (he murmured, his voice low and hoarse) And I'll stop.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a kiss that was as intense as the melodies she played.

Jay deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every curve of her body with a mix of possessiveness and reverence. He lifted her, taking her to the sofa where she practiced, laying her down carefully but without hesitation.

The heat between the two seemed to set the entire room ablaze. Jay was both fierce and gentle at the same time, his movements alternating between dominating and yielding, as if he wanted to prove that each touch was a reflection of what he felt.

Y/N's moans blended with Jay's whispers, creating a unique symphony. When he touched her, it was as if he were playing the very strings of her soul, awakening something in her that she never knew existed.

When they finally reached the climax, it was like the peak of a perfect symphony. The world around them disappeared, and only the two of them remained, connected on a level that transcends the physical.

Jay held her in his arms, tracing soft circles on her skin.

Jay: You are my masterpiece, Y/N (whispered, the golden eyes shining with something that seemed more human than she had imagined) And I will never let you go.

Y/N knew she was trapped, but at the same time, she had never felt so alive. The price for perfection was high, but as long as she was in Jay's arms, she was willing to pay.

✿If you don’t reblog and comment, you can be sure I’ll be showing up in your dreams tonight… and I won’t be as sweet as in the story✿

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sandsorghum · 3 months ago

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Lingering

wc: 3.7k

tags: Nanami Kento x Reader | Canon Compliant | Angst |

a/n: Vignettes of a life with Nanami Kento as a lover.

The details of your lover's work have always been a mystery to you. Something to do with shoveling appalling quantities of money around. Something that painted his face with dark circles and glaring rectangles, shadows hollowing his alabaster cheeks, making him look more gaunt than he really was, as if all appetites had abandoned him.

You knew, firsthand, this wasn’t the case.

But the work, whatever it is, steals the light from his irises, the definition from his shoulders. A silhouette losing shape in the cobalt smudges of dawn. You had learned to keep your eyes and fists closed, around cold sheets and the digits glowing red hot behind your lids, those numbers which never made it past 6:59AM.

You’ve stopped trying to curl your fingers around his wrist to find his warm pulse, met instead only by the chilling titanium cuff of his watch. The sting of his aftershave and the rasp of a kiss rushed against your forehead is the only proof of his presence before it can even fade from your view properly - so you've learned not to look for that outline disappearing beyond the door frame.

You both know if you open your eyes, however slightly, however full of sleep, he will be late. Often, you feel him stare, subtly willing you to test his resolve. And him, well, he has his own little rituals of temptations. It’s the tiniest things; his hint of mint in the crisp air, or the bustle of bristles hissing over enamel, sibilant as the sea.

Your lashes would flutter, slumber receding like the waves; in these twilight moments your gaze is searching, still empty of reproach - but as he senses you stirring, already the guilt piles high in his own, exposed as the shore.

He stands there in the dark, dripping with a mouth full of foam, watching your wakefulness moult into realisation, before the mutual regret retreats, mollusc-soft into the brittle shell of your smile:

“I hope you have a good day, Nanami.”

The bathroom light isn't switched on, but he watches your eyes shut in pincer-tight seams all the same, stifling the clawing in your chest and his with your cheek pressed against satin pillows. Watermarks would show up too clearly against such delicate material, so you make certain they don't.

Nanami knows this certainty too, feels it in your stare perched upon his back as he lathers his face. Several times he's made the mistake of stopping to look over his shoulder. Several times you've made the mistake of not dropping your gaze soon enough, or at all.

Neither of you can bring yourselves to call it a mistake however, when the bed sinks again with his weight, when the airy chastisement bubbles up from your throat against his stubble and soap, as he presses open-mouthed excuses along your jaw, "Just one kiss, darling, a few more minutes won't matter..."

But they do, of course, to the train conductors and his greedy boss and the gluttonous stock market brokers. And so Nanami finds himself forced to switch out the grind and whir of his electric razor to the barely audible scrape, scrape, scrape of a safety razor.

All risk of morning distractions shredded thin as you dream of them and him, dreams uninterrupted, reservoirs of desire dammed behind slumber, never to trickle into reality.

A morning comes when Nanami opens the bathroom cabinet that you keep dutifully stocked with both your necessities. There's ten boxes of disposable blades in the place where you'd normally store his batteries. He stares at it for a long time. For longer than he’d stared at that flyhead in that bakery weeks ago, when he’d first seen and left it.

Long enough to miss the 7am ride, and the 7:15am. Long past the peak-hour surge of last resort private hire cabs as well.

All those minutes did matter. And all the hours to come. And he knows how to spend them, who he really wants to invest them in. Whatever the risks.

Because Nanami's always wanted to see you like this, face glowing with surprise and a smile to rival the sunrise. He gets half of what he asks for, first the surprise, when you stir with the warm brush of his calloused thumbs and starched cuffs, the icy band of his costly wrist watch conspicuously absent. He smiles at the way you squint, perplexed and gripping his tie, anchoring yourself to the waking world, to him.

"Whyre…still here?Ydun have...time…"

"I do." Nanami promises, and he gets more than he asks for, than he dares for - as he always does with you. You press your mouth to him, he tastes your huff as he exorcises your disbelief, your breath an incandescent affirmation in his chest. It takes the midday sun at its highest point in the sky to remotely broach any comparison to your radiance, summoning his scorching touch.

ii.

The details of your partner's work remain a mystery to you. There is still something sharp and severe in his gaze when he stares at his phone, but the disgust dilutes into distaste, his frustrations ceding to a more manageable irritability, usually accompanied by some muttering about a “blindfolded man-child”.

Shadows still rim Nanami’s eyes but he stands a little taller these days. Sometimes stiffer too, when you ask if all of it is worth it. You get the answer just from how rigidly he sets his jaw, an unassailable answer behind the vault of his lips, sealed to yours.

Of course it is, to protect the most precious treasure in his life.

His old job was technically complex - this one isn’t, not really. But it’s still too difficult to explain, too risky to understand.

All he says is, he’s trying to make the world a safer place, and that’s dangerous sometimes.

Nanami doesn’t tell you more than that but you can extrapolate, or speculate rather. There are unfinished paragraphs in splotches of carmine, his bandages the only layer you’re allowed to peel back. So you grow grateful for the nights where the crimson merely speckles his shirt like commas or periods, even when you know they're just ellipses…and there’s no true addendum to the violence. Only epilogues.

The slivers of mornings have been exchanged for eternal twilights. Yes, you wake with Nanami by your side but the nights where you go to bed together are rarer. You hadn’t agreed to this trade-off. You hadn’t agreed to the hurried breakfasts and dinners dragged out over terse, tired, interminable silences - if he came back for them at all.

You hadn’t agreed to becoming far more familiar with the toaster rather than the stove-top. Or to the microwave becoming your most trustworthy, best friend over the expensive custom-built oven he’d purchased. There’s a constant tension in the inventory of your shared kitchen; fresh carrots, courgettes and alliums are reduced to stock cubes, while the jumbo bags of flour dwindle away to make space for value-packs of instant ramen instead. There are weeks when the war spills from your cabinets; you throw out wilted basil, whole cardamom pods, even the garam marsala powder has to go - turned into a solid block from being in the damp and dark too long. You’d almost wept when you had to toss the fenugreek seeds. Too many herbs and spices expired with barely a teaspoon’s dent made in their jars. You don’t even know what some of them are when you send them to their grave, the scuffed, faded labels as decipherable as hieroglyphs.

There was a time you would have asked Nanami but he barely remembers buying them.

The dry cupboards are crypts, the fridge a cryogenic cry for help - if it wasn’t already a morgue, or a self-sustaining mausoleum.

But you persist: Putting on his favourite skirt and that flattering apron, even while Nanami’s is hung in a corner fraying, accumulating dust, you make the decision to don your best smile and daub your wrists with the perfume he gifted you, the one which reeks of his regret, with its base notes of a promise still lingering on your skin; and you wait.

And you’ll wait. And wait.

You wait at the table, the steam growing cold long before the frost turns its keys in the lock and sweeps across your doorway. You rise to welcome him home to the honey glow, to the tungsten-warmth and spring in your step, to a plaiting of fingers and the coil of tongues, to feel the granite cliffs of his lips thaw against the meadows of your thighs.

You rise and you glimpse it, his smile flickering, the familiarity sprouting in your chest, sun-summoned, dandelion-effervescent, fern tangle-firm in solid boughs spreading lush as vast cypress roots below.

You reach towards him, the smile flickers again, his eyes scanning over the feast you prepared for him; the salad of pea tendrils and cauliflower florets, twinkling with the rubies of pomegranate pips. Filets of silver-skinned seabass, grill marks glistening gold with the tender white underbelly of its flesh. A caramel sheen, glass-thin over apple wafer-slices, delicately fanned in a glossy tarte tatin.

“My love, what is this?”

He turns to you, and the lump in his throat is more unbearable than the gnawing in your belly.

“It’s dinner, Kento. Remember those?” you laugh, hating how hollowly it rings through you.

Nanami has not taken more than two steps from the front step.

“Have I forgotten an anniversary?” he asks, tone already dubious, leaden with a quiet dread. “What’s the occasion?”

You approach him hesitantly. “There’s no occasion,” you say softly, “Do we need one?”

You never did, before. This used to be the norm you shared.

But you already know his answer as your question hangs in the air, feeling the despair condense in the room as Nanami’s guilty gaze darts to his phone.

“I’m so sorry, there’s another stake out. It’s an emergency, they want us out on the 10pm train tonight to Iwate. You know I wish I could-”

“For how long?”

“If there was any other way, I’d stay, but my colleague di-”

“How long, Kento?”

“Three days,” he whispers, clutching your hands. “Just three days.”

“Just three days. Right.”

He lets the wintry bite of your response clamp around his heart, spreading fractal through it.

“When I’m back, I prom-”

“Don’t.”

He’ll take your glare, at least you’re still looking at him, even eviscerating him.

“Darling…” The wretchedness of his tone at least indicates how much he’s missed the wondrousness of all he’s sacrificing, that he’s aware apologies aren’t enough. You sigh, freeing your hands to cup Nanami’s face and he leans fully into your touch, soaking in the warmth of your palms.

“I’ll get you a box. Go pack.”

Later, storing the leftovers, you’ll wonder if there’s enough cling film to wrap over your own eyes, nose and mouth. To bind yourself in a chrysalis, so you’d be blind to the clock till Nanami returned and made it home, made this place home again. You just had to wait.

iii.

He has the weekends at least. They’re no longer mere consolations, they are consecrations of the love you give each other. The bed becomes a confession booth, the place where he seeks penance and offers psalms in your name, for his mortal transgressions of being unable to be in two places at once, of letting you slip into this very same bed alone on too many nights.

Nanami isn’t a religious man, has little concept of a Sabbath - but if he did, he’d think it a sin that the grace he finds in you can’t be stretched into Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, would believe it blasphemy that he doesn’t get to worship you throughout the week.

He wonders how you can look both so conniving and innocent in slumber, nestled against his side now. He recalls the all nighters he used to pull at his office, because he didn't know what else to squander sleepless empty hours on; how his colleagues would mock and jeer that he was spoiling the market, gunning so hard for a promotion but nothing could be further from the truth. He had no intentions of winning the rat race. In fact he wanted out of it.

He’d thought maybe he could escape a little earlier if he ran further, ran faster but he didn't get out of the cage, he just stepped into a bigger and bigger maze, not even 25 and already hurtling towards a cul-de-sac, frequently fantasizing about how he might take that shiny new convertible the last pay bump afforded him and accelerate it into a nice solid alley.

But then he’d met you; you, who broke the gridlock in his life, who inspired him to go down his own road. Even if they seemed to lead back to hauntingly familiar paths.

No, he has a reason to look ahead now. He isn’t just trudging on day by day, even as he takes the present in his stride. His future is here.

Nanami is gazing at his future, smooshed into his neck and smearing sticky gossamer threads against his cheek, tiny wheezy noises whistling through their nostrils when his phone begins to buzz. He sighs, reluctantly picking it up.

“Good morning, Nanami-san! Just calling to confirm we’ll be meeting at the warehouse at 11.”

“I’m sorry Takuma-san. I won’t be able to be there after all. Something else requires my attention.”

“Oh, I see.” Ino doesn’t try to veil the abject disappointment.

“But I trust you’ll be able to handle the investigation independently, Takuma-san.”

“Gosh, really? All right, I won’t let you down Nanami-san!”

Nanami clears his throat, adjusting to the ebullient whiplash coming from the other end of the line. Well, he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. He knew his assessments were accurate. He just also knew the junior sorcerer held a particularly high regard for him.

“By the way Nanami-san, not to be rude or anything but your voice sounds a little rough. You’re not under the weather are you?”

“Well…” Nanami looks at you snuggling into a more comfortable position, with his bicep as your pillow, pinning his shoulders to the sheets.

“I suppose my arm is feeling slightly numb.”

“Oh, you should get to the root of that.”

Nanami glances down, containing the snicker in his chest as he hears you mumble something in your sleep. He skims a thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“I believe I will. Take care, Takuma-san,” Nanami says, concluding the call.

The warmth of his future seeps into his bones and Nanami thinks, after all these years, perhaps he can afford himself, and you, more than a little indulgence. He owes you that much. Or maybe he doesn’t have to hoard up all his leave days just to have this as a temporary respite; maybe he can make it permanent, for the rest of his life.

You thought your fiancè would leave most of the details to you but no, Nanami gets super involved with his rather strong opinions about the cake.

“The Sicilian Lemon & Poppy Seed has a moister crumb,” he insists.

You don’t say anything, only throwing a longing glance at the slice of pistachio cake between the two of you, a pout precariously balanced on the tines of the dessert fork pricking against your lips.

Nanami huffs through his nose, “I suppose we can do a fourth tier.”

Your face splits into a grin, and Nanami’s isn’t far behind as he presses bright citrus kisses to your mouth, savouring the light spilling into each other during this lull, quietly thrumming with all the energy of the day ahead of you both.

It’s moments like these that affirm your joint decision to independently organise the wedding was the best one you’d ever made - second only of course, to agreeing to have Nanami in your life forever. The treasure trove of tender interludes made these past few weekends, bustling with errands, all worth it despite their hectic schedule.

Even though the two of you were planning for a modest reception, there was still so much to cross off the list. Handwritten invitations, trips to the florist, checking in with caterers on the menu development. You glance at your phone, there’s still about a dozen vendors to see to. But with your fastidious, generous sweetheart by your side, you’re sure the two of you will be able to settle everything before the big day, and enjoy all this extra time you were spending together.

“We’ll get those pain au chocolats to go, thank you.”

Nanami loops an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders as you adjust your scarf more snugly around your neck against the brisk autumn breeze.

“We’ll need to pick out fabrics for the iro-uchikake next.”

“No wonder you wanted to hit up the patisserie first,” Nanami chuckles, braiding his fingers through yours as the two of you stroll down the street, a swirl of maple leaves crunching underfoot.

“I’m hoping it won’t take all afternoon, but I wanted to make sure we both got a bite first.”

“Good thing we got these emergency croissants then.”

“I thought we’re saving them for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Or I could make you your favourite loaded pancakes.”

You give Nanami’s hand a tight squeeze even as you sigh, “See this is why I couldn’t do the whole white wedding dress diet thing.”

“You hardly need to,” your beloved hums, fingers curling around the plush of those hips he adores so much, flush to his side, in step with you.

“You spoil me terribly, Kento.”

“Well, you’ll have to get used to that quickly, Mrs Nanami.”

An almost unbearable joy surges through your soul when you hear him address you this way. And soon (yet not soon enough) everyone else will call you that too. For forever more, you’d be Mrs Nanami.

After November 3rd, 2018.

iv.

November never arrives.

The end of October brings the end of the world, and the cracking open of one you wish you knew nothing about. One you still can’t comprehend, despite the deluge of information, despite your flood of rage and agony.

There’s only a single, salient fact through all of this - He’s gone.

He’s gone, and there’s nothing to cling to.

No broken mast to splinter through your ribcage, no driftwood that could salvage you as you’re ravaged by the waves. You want to drown, you want to drown, but every day you are spit back up on the shore so the salt can rend through your lungs once more, every day the sun still rips its way through your blackout curtains, a cruel gash of light exposing the stark reality of the empty spot in your bed. Right next to your fingers, curling your fist over the chasm, the space all the more frozen for the dust motes dancing over it.

The chill of the band on your fourth finger sinks into your palm, till you taste metal on your tongue, a mercurial poison in your bloodstream. It burns through you, numbs you. You shiver and you sweat. You close windows, you open them; caterwauls and gasoline fumes and the shrieks of ambulance sirens all bleeding through the panes - You can’t hear any of it over the hollow pounding in the cavity of your chest.

Something clawing at your esophagus, scrabbling to get out. Not a sob. You cannot swallow, throat too parched from not having eaten or drunk in days. You know what it is, it is screaming in your mind - but you will not let the world wrest this away from you too.

You cannot even utter his name, not even murmured into the dark. You refuse to let the shadows steal his syllables, you want them, their rubble, the full weight of them trapping your tongue and his breath, the memory of his breath, its devotion to you, his oaths in your mouth, a vow half-blossomed, a full burden, caught between your lungs for eternity.

The details of your beloved’s work are no longer a mystery to you.

A pink-haired boy with scarlet eyes shows up at your doorstep one day, trying to spare you the worst of it. He tries to tell you who he is, who the love of your life was to him.

He can’t be more than 16, but it’s clear his youth has become just one more casualty from that savage night. In the slump of his shoulders, you recognise Kento’s back, stiff under the weight of all he’d never said, but told you you dissolved, just by being there. You don’t know if knowing would have made a difference. It didn’t matter, Kento had decided, simultaneously selfless and selfish: It was only through your ignorance he’d been able to preserve a semblance of bliss.

But that had been his hubris.

Had he expected you to pick up the debris in his wake, in this eternal nightmare? Did he think his worst fears would never come to pass? That you were worth the risk? You would never get those answers.

If only, if only there’d been ashes. You would have swallowed them whole.

“We…we made rings, out of platinum…” You falter, your desperation rising thick in the air.

Itadori shakes his head, scarred hands knotting around his steaming mug.

“I couldn’t find anything like that…I’m-I’m sorry,” he whispers.

In that wobbling apology, in the tremor of his lower lip which he tries to curl behind his teeth, you see it, on the edge of vanishing, his violent attempt to vanquish the final vestiges of childhood innocence, what Kento had fought and sacrificed to protect.

You don’t have the strength, everything has been drained and sapped from you, the weeks have stretched and stretched you thin, but you gather Yuji in your arms, and this time he doesn’t stop the streaks cascading from those cavernous eyes, pouring into the ravine of your soul.

You hold him, you don’t know for how many hours, wracked and trembling and falling apart, and you clutch at the familiar and the imagined, you hold him, just to feel Kento’s frame shudder and shake against you once more, before it slips from your grasp and memory forever.

#nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x gender neutral reader #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x gender neutral reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento x reader #kento x you #sandsorghum

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andmaybegayer · 2 years ago

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For a different project I was reading about developments in induction heating technologies and realized I had a small misunderstanding about how induction stoves work.

So, the classic misunderstanding is in why steel works on an induction hob but aluminium doesn't. Most people assume this is because you need a magnetic material in order to induce a current, but if you know your physics you know this isn't true. You can induce a current in any conductor, and indeed inducing currents in aluminium is something that happens in industry all the time.

So then you get to my understanding of why you can't use aluminium and copper, which is that they're too good at conducting electricity. Induction generates a voltage that pushes a current through the material. Aluminium and copper are much better conductors than steel, so the generated potential is lower and the overall current is lower as a result of material interactions with the field, so you don't get nearly as much heat out of induction on aluminium as on steel. This was what I thought. This is also wrong, although it's closer.

The actual answer is one step deeper. Induction hobs have to operate at pretty high frequencies, usually 24-ish kHz, both for audible noise reasons and, crucially, because they rely heavily on the skin effect. Interestingly this makes that first wrong explanation kind of more correct, I'll get to that in a moment.

The skin effect is a thing that happens when you have an alternating current in a bulk material; the AC signal sets up magnetic fields that force current to flow in a thin layer closer to the surface of the solid rather than flowing evenly throughout the material. This increases the effective resistance of the material, since you end up with a reduced effective surface area through which current can flow. The skin effect gets more pronounced at higher frequencies, and it's part of why you'll see bundles of smaller cables used to conduct high power AC: each cable has its own skin that can carry more current than the same quantity of material in one bulk cable.

In the right kinds of steel and iron, 24kHz is enough to generate a current carrying skin only a few tenths of a millimeter thick, which has a high enough resistance to generate the heat needed for cooking. Ferromagnetic materials have very high magnetic permeability, which causes them to experience much stronger skin effects. Copper and aluminium, between their high conductivity and lower magnetic permeability, have much weaker skin effects, their skins at 24kHz are much thicker, and so you just can't kick up enough resistance to the current to generate heat, it just spins around in there getting kind of warm but you'd have a hard time actually cooking with it. Indeed, non-magnetic stainless steel also won't work on induction hobs, because it also has a much thicker skin effect.

So you have the "real answer" being a fun hybrid of the two incorrect explanations.

The main side effects I take away from this are twofold.

1) you can absolutely make an induction hob that will heat copper and aluminum and non-magnetic stainless steels, you just need a high enough frequency to generate a strong enough skin effect to generate heat. Panasonic makes one that uses 60+kHz induction under the brand "Met-all".

2) if you physically constrain the current by having a really thin piece of metal, you can induction heat it anyway. When I read this, I stopped, took out a piece of aluminium foil, and stuck it on my induction cooktop. It almost immediately got incredibly hot and I pulled it away before anything bad happened. Turns out you could definitely melt and maybe even vaporize aluminium this way. So don't do that. Apparently people do this with lightweight titanium cookware too, which would not be able to sustain the necessary currents in a large bulk solid but can if you thin the base of the pan out enough.

#cooking #induction #physics #material science #engineering

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rkctlaboratory · 1 year ago

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RKCT Laboratory PVT LTD

RKCT Laboratory, based in Jabalpur, Madhya Pradesh, is a leading provider of comprehensive laboratory testing and analysis services. We offer a wide range of services including soil, water, material, environmental, chemical, and geotechnical testing, supported by a team of highly skilled professionals and state-of-the-art technology. We are committed to delivering precise, reliable, and timely results across all testing domains. Our accreditation and certifications underscore our dedication to quality and excellence, making us a trusted partner for industries and individuals seeking accurate and thorough analyses.

P 316/3, raigwa, Patan Bypass, Road, in front of green valley school, Karmeta, Jabalpur, Madhya Pradesh 482002

9424508844

#Soil Testing Laboratory in Jabalpur #Electrical Testing Laboratory in Jabalpur #Food Testing Laboratory in Jabalpur #Water Testing in Jabalpur #NDT testing (non destructive) laboratory in Jabalpur #building material testing laboratory in Jabalpur #cement testing laboratory in Jabalpur #steel physical/chemical testing laboratory in Jabalpur #Milk Testing laboratory in Jabalpur #wire testing laboratory in Jabalpur #Conductor Testing in Jabalpur

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squeakadeeks · 7 months ago

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Can I ask what your job is? Not asking for like. The name of the lab you work at or anything! Just general if you’re comfortable with that! I see pictures of you in a lab with Big Machine and Cylinders and my interest is peaked

totally! i genuinely, unironically teleport electrons for a living.

I study novel superconductors for the purpose of quantum computing. These are materials with zero electrical resistance, so electrons just slip slide right on through them like a trout through a pristine mountain stream. this is in contrast to everyday materials that have significant resistance, even the wires we use for everyday electric currents in our devices and walls have significant energy loss. this is why i cant hook up a regular wire stretching from california to new york and carry a current the whole way. (not to quote megamind but just because somethings a conductor, doesnt mean its a SUPERconductor)

To study the properties of these superconductors, i quite literally teleport electrons from an atomically sharp, one singular atom wide tip into the surface of the material when the tip and the sample are about one or two atomic diameters apart. The tip and the material are so close that quantum mechanics kicks in and the electrons will spontaneously quantum tunnel from one location to another. As these electrons quantum tunnel across the junction, i interpret the flow of electrons as a tunneling current, looking to see places where its easier or harder for electrons to make the jump. I then use those fluctuations to get information about the sample.

this actual "teleportation" can happen on a stage smaller than a single red blood cell. But due to the nature of superconductors, these experiments have to be done at temperatures just barely above absolute zero, in ultra high vacuum at pressures one billion times below atmosphere (our vacuum actually beats the vacuum of space outside the ISS!), and with extreme vibration and noise isolation; all of this is why the room and the equipment looks as funky as it does!

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majingojira · 6 months ago

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Complete List of Public Domain McGuffin Materials

I wanted a clean collection of these based on @titleknown original post, just for ease of reference and adding a few along the way.

Also, HAPPY PUBLIC DOMAIN DAY!

Cavorite - An Anti-Gravity Metal from First Men On The Moon by H.G. Wells.

Hihi'irokane - From "The Takenouchi Documents" (1935). A super durable metal that never rusts and is also a conductor of heat. In other words, it's Minecraft Red Stone.

Taduki - From the Alan Quartermain stories, a drug that allows users to relive past lives via smoking. It's a great framing device, and was used as one in the original stories.

The Absolute - from "The Absolute At Large". Byproduct of a matter-to-energy conversion. Implied to be the element of 'Divinity'.

Eitr - Source of all life in Norse Mythology. The mixing of the FIres of Muspelheim and the ice of Nifilheim -- but also a deadly poison to the earth.

Fleury's Gas - Rudyard Kipling's super gas from his story "With the Night Mail." Used to run Zepplins. It expands explosively fast as a gas and is both powerful and rigid. It can be liquified with Fleury's Ray. Produces a lot of power and acts as Hydrogen. Could be used very easily in Neumatics (ROBOTS!)

Tulu Metal - Lovecraft invention. rare space-metal. Extremely magnetic. Speculatively, it could do space-warping weirdness (given Lovecraft stories, that tracks).

Abyssal Gold - The Gold of the Deep Ones. It's whitish-gold alloy with a weird lustrousness. No special properties, it's just weird. And rather pretty. Rare type of gold are sure to go for a higher market value.

Alkahest/The Universal Solvent - Alchemy dissolver. It dissolved/breaks apart whatever it comes across.

Jeckyll's Compound - Most people use the Hyde formula as shorthand to make Hulk-knockoffs, but the reality of it more than that. Hyde is not just a coalescence of a man's "Dark Impulses" but a chemical 'disguise' to allow a person to indulge in whatever a person wants.

The Red Weed - A plant native to Mars from War of the Worlds. It tastes metallic, absorbs water, grows extremely quickly, and is bioluminescent.

Starlite - A purportedly heatproof material. Up to 90% organic.

Rossum's Protoplasm - Rossum's Universal Robots, the McGuffin that makes the robots move and behave.

Liquid Electricity - Glowing energy liquid. It was a common belief about Electricity in the early days, so it ended up in a lot of stories.

Herbet West's Re-Animation Fluid - From Lovecraft's Herbet West: Reanimator. It chemically kickstarts the mechanical process of life in organic tissue.

Solarnite/Solarbenite/Solarite - Plan 9 From Outer Space. It causes light particles to... explode.

Vril - The life energies harnessed by an underground utopian civilization. The energies are controlled by staves and there's different type of staff to control Vril in different ways. It can be used to heal, to destroy, or to enhance organic material.

Herakleophorbia IV - The Food of the Gods of H.G. Well. Organisms that ingest this chemical quickly grow to 5 to 7 times their normal size. This is used primarily on livestock to increase their food yield, but it naturally gets eaten by pest animals. Many common household pest insects are now the size of a person's thumb or their hand! A rat is now 6 to 9ft long. And if some jerk feeds it to an Alligator... it now as large as a blue whale.

The New Accelerator - From the HG Wells story from the same name. Within the story, Prof. Gibberne creates a drug that enables the user’s mind and body to gain temporary super-speed, so that everything in the world appears frozen solid as time appears to slow.

There are downsides to being a 1901 version of the Flash however. Users are still subject to friction, so moving while on the drug causes your clothes to get singed (this same friction making it impossible to breathe is ignored, however).

Devil's Foot Root - From the Arthur Conan Doyle Sherlock Holmes story The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot. A poison made from an African root, which vaporizes when heated, leading to those exposed going mad or dying after inhaling the fumes.

Basically, works like the Scarecrow’s fear toxin from Batman, and is considered rare enough that someone has to specifically use some from a stolen from the collection of someone who had to gather it personally as an explorer. At least, at the time.

The White Powder - The novel of The White Powder by Arthur Machen, wherein a student is prescribed a drug made from a mysterious white flakey substance. His sister begins to worry about his sudden changes in mood and personality, which is only compounded when his prolonged abuse of the titular White Powder causes the student to literally melt.

One of Machen’s more famous stories, would go on to be listed as among Lovecraft’s favorite's and inspiring future writers, from the finale of Lovecraft’s Cool Air to one Stephen King story where a tainted six pack turns a dude into a blob monster.

#Public Domain #Substances #Fiction #Writing #Writing Reference #H. G. Wells #H. P. Lovecraft #Lovecraft #Arthur Conan Doyle #Doyle #Rudyard Kipling

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intermundia · 7 months ago

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Uranus is an enormous planet of icy storms. It has a feature that has puzzled scientists for decades: its vast shimmering auroras. Their location is puzzling, because, on Earth, auroras are confined to the poles, but on Uranus, flashes of light suddenly appear all over the planetary surface, and you don’t know why they’re happening there.

Magnetic fields create auroras, but on Uranus, this poses a mystery. Uranus doesn’t have this flowing metallic core that Earth has, but it still has a magnetic field. So, how is that magnetic field being generated?

A clue could lie in Uranus’ icy composition. It’s a turbulent, high-speed-wind, gaseous environment; and descend inward, you go from gases to liquids. And then when you get sufficiently deep enough, now you enter the ice world in the interior of Uranus.

The pressures and temperatures in the interior of Uranus are extreme, with pressures 3,000,000 times that of the surface pressure of Earth and temperatures reaching 9,000 Fahrenheit, hotter than the surface of the sun. Water is crushed into a solid form.

Inside of superionic ice, what’s happened is that the hydrogen atoms have broken free, and now they’re free to flow around within the material. They are the conductors of electricity, and potentially responsible for the strange magnetic fields that we see, precisely the kind of magnetic fields that could help generate Uranus’ auroras.

This strange ice is unlike anything we find naturally on Earth. And since these ice giants, Uranus and Neptune, hold vast amounts of water, this bizarre hot, black, superionic ice may turn out to be the most common form of water in our solar system.

Solar System: Icy Worlds on NOVA

#the idea of ICE #hotter than the surface of the sun #breaks my brain fr #solar system #space #astronomy #pbs nova

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studyblr-perhaps · 8 months ago

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Misa Explains 1: Spintronics in a nutshell

A series of posts where I will explain bits and pieces of physics I have gathered throughout the my foray into this wonderful science. Warning, these will be long.

Highly inspired by @chemblrish and @minmin-vs-physics 's posts on their fields, check out their posts (linked on this post in various places!)

Wait what even is going on?

Okay, first of all, why are we even talking about spintronics, whatever that means? Now, we live in an age where we need devices, right? Phones, TVs, laptops, name it. All digital devices come under electronics, which is a cluster of what we call "logic devices" (verrry loosely speaking) with various functions, made with expert circuitry to create our sophisticated "smart" devices. Whew. That's a lot of words. But what does it mean? It means that the very device you're using to view this post is made up of very tiny mini devices, which are made to utilize electrical signals (current, flow of electrons) to make it store information, read information, or perform logic tasks ("AND", "OR" "NOT" and the rest. Let me know if you want me to explain those, but this is not the point of the post so I'm letting them hang in the air for now).

We store digital information in the form of 'bits' (I swear all of this is relevant, please be patient) which is a computer's language of storing and using information. If you've watched any show involving hacking, you'll see stacks after stacks of "1"s and "0"s on their high contrast screens in that radioactive green font (general older sister advice: don't use high contrast it hurts your eyes), these are bits and the basis on which logic devices work. Each combination of 1s and 0s makes a different information, which is the backbone of computing. Now, how these devices make 1s and 0s is again a whole course on electronics, so I will skip over it to just preface that they exist and that's how we make digital devices.

All these years, we have used semiconductors, which allow moderate amount of current flow from them (in contrast to conductors, which allow free flow of electrons, and insulators, which do not allow flow of electrons) to make transistors, which are currently the building blocks of circuit-making devices.

[here's a picture containing ICs (the bug-like looking thing covered in wires) which have tiny transistors inside them, and the LEDs, on which the lit ones are "1"s and unlit ones are "0"s. This was my project for one of my courses!]

In electronics, a very famous law called Moore's Law, states that for increase in tech and development, the amount of transistors in integrated circuits (IC) doubles every two years. This moves proportionally with the increase in use of semiconductors, because transistors are made using them.

Every device maker's main goal is to make a device faster, smoother, and more functional. Which means, more transistors, better semiconductors. Moreover, the smaller space occupied by the ICs, the better. But obviously there's a limit to how much we can decrease the size of the transistors. One is the technical issue of creating such a small object, which will require highly precise instruments which we are not in possession of/ not feasible in the long run. The second issue is the working. "Will a semiconductor keep it's properties when they layer is so small?" is a valid question to ask when we go further down in scale. In simple words: in the long run, improving semiconductors for transistors will be difficult. Moore's law plateaus, and the number of transistors doesn't double with two years. What now? We can't just stop developing better computing devices, not just smart devices, astronomy, medicine and other scientific areas also require reliable, stable and fast computing devices.

Which means we desperately need new materials (and techniques) for logic and memory devices.

Hold on, when's spintronics going to start?

Okay background information done. Now we move onto spins and why we use it. We know that atoms are made of protons, electrons and neutrons. Out of these, electrons "revolve" in "orbits" around the nucleus, which holds the protons and neutrons. I put "revolve" and "orbits" in quotes because essentially it's a cloud of probabilities and we have no clue what path it truly takes. Electrons reside in what are called 'orbitals', which are balloon-like spaces which have a high probability of the electrons being present in (@/chemblrish explains orbitals better here).

Now along with the "revolution", electrons also considered to have a "spin". We don't really know if it "spins" the way Bayblades do, but regardless, they have an angular momentum, which is classically something rotating objects possess (@/mimin-vs-physics goes more in depth on quantum mechanical fun stuff) Either way, we don't know why it has angular momentum, but we know it does (at least I have no idea if we've figured it out??). And in true human fashion, we see anything new and think "now how can I utilize this for my benefit?"

Years and years of research later, we figured out something interesting. The angular momentum which the electron spins contain, and the angular momentum of electrons in "orbits" can interact! This interaction is called Spin-Orbit Coupling (SOC) and it causes a bunch of other fascinating phenomena in quantum mechanics. One of which, is that it if we supply electricity into a metal plane, we can align the electrons and their spins in such a way that it causes a stream of current (remember: current is essentially a flow of electrons in one direction) with aligned spins to move into a different layer perpendicularly.

Okay but what does all of this have to do anything with Spintronics?

We're finally at the part where we can discuss what Spintronics is! We can use our now generated spin current to make electronic devices (hence, spintronics!). So, how do we make these tiny devices?

What we first take is a heavy metal (these are metallic elements/alloys with high atomic numbers, which have a lot of free electrons to use) and make a very thin film of it. (The procedure of making thin films is very interesting, and I will make the next post on it!) We can now pass a stream of current/electricity* parallel to the surface of the thin film, which will give us a stream of spin-aligned electrons bouncing to move into an upper layer.

For the upper layer, we add a thin layer of a ferromagnet. A ferromagnet is a type of material which readily aligns its spin on one direction when under a magnetic field (contrary to this are paramagnets which weakly align their spins, and diamagnets which weakly align their spins opposite to the applied field).

Now remember the electrons with their spin aligned which wanted to move into the upper layer? Yeah once they are given an upper layer to move into, they flow into the layer, bringing their aligned spins with them. This spin can now affect the ferromagnet's spin, and align it in either the direction of the applied electric field ( the one applied on the heavy metal layer. I'm marking it as * for you to check which electric field I mean) or directly opposite to the direction of the electric field. This alignment can be measured. The value doesn't matter, only the direction. Is it parallel to the electric field or anti-parallel? "Up" or "down"? "Left" or "right"? Or, in terms of electronics, "1" or "0".

And look! We now have a way to make a tiny device which can display values of "1" or "0"! We used an analog signal (electricity) to create a digital output (1s and 0s)! That is electronics! But because it uses spins, it is called Spintronics.

Because we use Spin-Orbit Coupling, these devices are extremely precise and fast. And the layers of heavy metal/ferromagnet will be in the ranges of nanometers (10^-9 m), so they are also extremely small. We can also choose materials with properties we like (high melting/boiling point, low reactivity) to create devices which can work in extreme conditions (high heat, pressure, reactive areas).

And here we have it! We've made spintronic devices!

End of post disclaimer: I am a Bachelors student and I will have mistakes. I also tend to exaggerate. So if I have made a mistake in this post, please inform me nicely in the comments or tags!

#this took longer than I expected but I was also thown from one deadline to another so-#studyblr #studyinspo #studyspo #physics #aesthetic #academia #studying #study aesthetic #misa's undergrad journey #misa tries #misa explains physics #stem #stemblr #women in stem #spintronics #electronics #I'll keep editing if I find mistakes #but for now this is going out into the wild (internet)

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