#Miniaturized Electronics

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Integrated Passive Device Market is Driven by Growing Demand for Smart Wearables

According to P&S Intelligence, the global integrated passive device (IPD) market is experiencing growth. This can be credited to the Growing acceptance of integrated passive devices in consumer electronics, armed with growing applications of the device in RF modules, which is boosting the development of the industry. Furthermore, the growing acceptance of smart wearables is also fuelling the…

[something-feral]

Details of my room before I bulldoze it (04.25)

[unopenablebox]

girlfriend got all surprised at me for describing new york as being "part of new england" like any reasonable person wouldn't put it in there

[zef-zef]

Synalegg - MOLT (Miniature, 2024)

Inspired by the Miniature Recs format, Synalegg designed MOLT, an epigrammatic algorithmic program that generates a pattern and transforms its spectral, temporal, and tonal features over the course of a minute, “the original motif being modified by mutation into another sound material, like a molting process”.

The music coming out of MOLT has sharp edges, yet it evolves fluidly, at the threshold between angular, discrete patterns and continuous spectral morphologies, like a geometric surface transforming its topology in time driven by inner autonomous forces. (Bandcamp)

[radwolf76]

My Hero Forge 2.0 Creations — Running in the Shadows Edition

So, as cheesy and sometimes problematic the Shadowrun franchise is, there's just something fun about blending fantasy Tabletop RPG tropes like elves and magic into a cyberpunk dystopia that keeps bringing me back.

Ended up making a version of one of my longtime Shadowrun NPCs (from back when I GM'ed in the 90s) in Hero Forge.

[minicheck]

Mini Casio watches. Only in Japan.

More images on Designboom.

[nerosaerothorn]

I need a heads up display.

What frustrates me with being an "out of sight, out of mind" person is that people tend to love suggesting notepads, diaries, apps, lists, anything that you can write reminders in. But my kind of "out of sight, out of mind" extends to that as well. Truly. If it is not in my sight, it is not in my mind. And you know what happens when you close a book or an app? It is not longer in sight.

[semimediapress]

TDK launches industry’s smallest 0201-size high-frequency inductors for RF modules

May 30, 2025 /SemiMedia/ — TDK Corporation has initiated mass production of its MUQ0201022HA series, marking the launch of the world’s smallest high-frequency inductors in the 0201 size format (0.25 x 0.125 x 0.2 mm). Designed for GHz-band applications in smartphones and wearable devices, these components offer advanced electrical performance while significantly reducing footprint. By leveraging…

[medicaldevicesindustrynews]

Understanding the Growing Applications of LTCC and HTCC in Automotive Sector

With the growth and usage of power devices, particularly 3rd-generation semiconductors, semiconductor devices are progressively evolving in the path of miniaturization, high power, multi-function, and integration, which also put forward greater needs on the performance of packaging substrates.  Ceramic substrates possess good heat resistance, high thermal conductivity, low coefficient of thermal…

[zef-zef]

Liselotte Oosthuizen - Geborrel (Miniature, 2024)

When asked about Geborrel, she replied: “Honestly? I was terribly stoned when I recorded it. I had a mix of dagga and kanna weeds that melt my head to the point I couldn’t understand my code anymore. I find that state particularly interesting to relate with algorithms, because I completely forget their purpose and I just focus on my bodily reaction to the sounds”. (Bandcamp)

[etheries1015]

In memory of the Apology Mug Story (and because I walked past a super old building recently; guess what it had on the facade)

Reader who knows how to carve rocks into specific forms and is very skilled in it makes Malleus a gargoyle for his birthday. He's so happy he ends up accidentally confessing his love to them.

Bonus points if that was Lilia's idea because he got tired of seeing them dance around each other and wanted things to happen already

This is really cute <3 for those who aren't certain what the apology mug story is; the link to that is Here!

A special birthday present for our favorite draconic prince <3

Being in Ramshackle with a limited amount of entertainment (being unable to afford many electronics) you had to resort to other forms of entertainment. Reading, cooking, sewing, board games, long walks outside, musical instruments, and your most recent of endeavors; rock carving. You had learned a few things here and there from Malleus, he was an avid crafter of gargoyles within his club and was more than happy to teach you a thing or two. Although most of your attempts seemed to fail in his eyes, you were actually secretly incredibly skilled at this. You were leaving your skills to set up a surprise present for the fae for his birthday; January 18th.

It wasn't hard to figure out what you were planning on doing for his birthday, Malleus was incredibly easy to read. Although money was scarce for you, using your skills to handmake something would be much more worth receiving than any amount of money could pay for. At least, that's what Malleus had said when you inquired what he would like at his celebration.

"A present is not necessary," He told you with a graceful smile, "Bring yourself, and your smile. That is enough for me." ...you were not going to take that as the final verdict, thus began your journey to create a gift he was surely going to enjoy.

His birthday came upon you, and your gift was finally completed. You did not hesitate to rush over to Diasomnia for the celebration, bringing over two things; A homemade ice cream cake, and your gift box. The cake was pretty much the start of Malleus's excitement, ice cream cakes exist?! It wasn't common in Twisted Wonderland much to your surprise, so sharing your handmade cake with his enjoyment of icecream implemented already sent him over the moon. The joy that was written all over his face was the easiest text to read, soon pouring out of his mouth in a theatric novel after unwrapping his second gift from you- two gargoyles. They were miniature and made for décor less than actual function, however, his excitement seemed to explode off the tip of his tongue.

His bright green eyes were sparkling, his mouth ajar, and a blush painted across his pale cheeks.

"It's us! See, one has your horns and the other-" Malleus immediately wrapped you into his embrace, much to the protest of Sebek nearby, yet the smiles of amusement of Silver and Lilia quickly hushed the student. It seemingly seemed the words held inside had burst at the seams, and Malleus had begun setting free the things he had been eager to share for some time now.

"I am in pure infatuation with you," Malleus blurted out, "I have not received a gift so heartfelt and beautiful," it almost sounded like he was holding back tears of happiness.

"Two gargoyles representing you and I, shall I take this as a declaration that you wish to be my pair?" He did not await your response, the tall fae was already shooting off at the mouth. "I reciprocate. Your beautiful craftmanship will forever be my treasure, next to you, of course." You could not hide the clear redness from your face, and the dumb smile that planted permanently at his sudden confession.

"it's about time!" Lilia laughed, "Now, let us celebrate not only our prince's birthday but also the union between these two lovebirds!" Malleus pulled away from the hug and smiled again at the gargoyles you intricately designed, turning to face his dormmates.

"Yes, let us resume the festivities. We shall celebrate all night long, this will be a birthday well worth remembering. Come now, my dearest." Setting down the Gargoyles in a safe place, he grabbed hold of your hand dragging you into the joyful celebration <3

Happy birthday, Malleus!!

[runawaychar]

"Hello little one... are you lost?"

Finished my very trustworthy and helpful forest guide miniature - he's here to help!

His lantern lights up and flickers, and his eyes and teeth flouresce under a blacklight. I'm so happy with how he came out! I did the electronics, sculpting, and painting myself ^_^

[nanamineedstherapy]

Tactical Crocs & Emotional Warfare

F!Reader x Gojo Satoru x Nanami Kento

Previous Oneshot Chapter [Tumblr/Ao3] | Main Series [Tumblr/Ao3]

A/N: When your security team costs more than a small country's GDP but the real threat is a raccoon with a Hermès addiction. Enjoy this slice of domestic terrorism (ft. Gojo’s tactical Crocs). No spoilers, but someone does get scolded via Chopin.

Int. Private Security Room—Night—14 Hours To Cameras Up

The koi pond feed flickers. A baby sock drifts across the surface. Nobody flinches.

Half the screens are silent surveillance footage: nursery, koi pond vault, her lower office, the terrarium room that used to be a guest bath. Takahashi (the raccoon, not the CFO) sleeps curled on a miniature futon in a separate window—one paw flung over a satin pillow like royalty.

The red alert blinks in the upper left corner: VOGUE JAPAN CREW ARRIVES. TO BE HELD IN GREEN ROOM.

Nanami Kento doesn’t look up. His pen glides over a set of architectural schematics—his third revision in as many hours. He’s in matte black tactical Kevlar (no one knows why at this hour), sleeves rolled to the forearms, sorcery glasses glinting under sterile lighting. There’s a faint ink smudge on his wrist. He’s furious about it.

Gojo Satoru sits across from him in a Hello Kitty hoodie and tactical Crocs, chewing lychee Pocky like he’s running hostage negotiations out of a Daiso. His wayfarers reflect the screen showing his stolen blindfold around Takahashi’s neck like he’s cosplaying “Bandit” in his sleep. The six-eyes wielder looks like the kind of genius whose brain can calculate missile trajectory mid-nap but will forget to refrigerate breast milk.

Around them, the highest-paid security personnel on the Pacific Rim. A blend of private military, cyberwarfare analysts, and cursed-artifact consultants. Some sip espresso from tactical thermoses. Others pretend they’re not being paid eight figures plus to protect a non-sorcerer pregnant woman, two war criminals, and a possibly sentient raccoon.

The Executive Protection Team (Core Security) had primarily been assembled by Megumi, and they relocated with you to Japan after your marriage, remaining fiercely loyal but now having an equal number of Nanami and Gojo’s people, ex-Jujutsu Teachers (sorcerers).

Former JSDF Special Forces Operatives (1st Airborne Brigade or Special Operations Group)  (¥60M+ each).

Japan's equivalent to Navy SEALs/Delta Force, trained in high-risk protection.

Ex-Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) Security Police (SP) Officer. (¥50M+ each).

SP protects Japanese VIPs (e.g., PM, royals). Only available if retired early. Know all police protocols to avoid legal issues.

Cursed Energy Security Specialists Team (for Sorcerer-Level Threats).

Ex-Jujutsu Tech Professors (Non-Gojo Clan, Independent) (¥100M+ each).

Detects/neutralizes curses without relying on Jujutsu High. 

Limitation: Hard to find; must be lured with extreme pay.

Cursed Artifact Security Consultant (¥80M+ each).

Prevents cursed objects from entering the home (e.g., "gifts" from enemies).

Background: Former curse-user turned private sector.

Cyber/Electronic Warfare Team (For Tech CEO Threats).

Ex-Unit 8200 (Israeli Cyber Intel) + NSA Hacker (¥120M+ each).

Best in the world for preventing corporate espionage/blackmail.

Loophole: Hired as a "consultant" to avoid gov restrictions.

Japanese Cyber Defense Force Veteran (¥60M+ each).

Knows domestic cyber laws inside out.

Perk: Can legally bug your own home (with consent).

Logistics & Emergency Extraction Team.

Private Military Contractor (PMC) Pilot (Ex-USAF/JSDF) (¥70M+ each).

On standby with a private jet/helicopter for emergency medevac (pregnancy risks).

Loophole: Based in international waters (Okinawa) to bypass Japanese airspace laws.

Medical Security Specialist (Ex-SAS Medic) (¥50M+ each).

Trauma Care + can extract during a curse attack.

Perk: Licensed to carry restricted meds (e.g., sorcerer-grade painkillers).

Most of them report to her.

The wife.

CEO.

Third trimester.

Currently asleep, head tilted into Nanami’s neck like a sleepy heat-seeking missile, his other arm absently braced around her to stop her from falling off the ergonomic stool she refuses to replace.

A hushed voice cut through the tension. “She’s got a bounty on her.”

Nanami slammed a folder onto the table hard enough to rattle the coffee cups, his sleeves rolled up to expose forearms corded with muscle. “If we die, Protocol A-47 activates. She goes to the koi pond vault. No exceptions. Tranquilize her if necessary.”

The ex-fighter pilot—a woman with a scar bisecting her eyebrow—leaned back in her chair, flicking a toothpick between her teeth. “We have tranquilizers because she once roundhouse-kicked a logistics officer during a VR Mortal Kombat session. Broke his nose.”

Gojo licked sugar from his thumb and added, “Double-layer barrier on the nursery and Takahashi. If something happens to that raccoon, I’m flattening a country. I won’t say which. It’ll be a surprise.”

The NSA hacker, a twitchy man with dark circles under his eyes, flinched when the raccoon sneezed. “Why does the raccoon have his own panic room?”

Keji—sleek in his silk shirt, biceps straining the fabric as he crossed his arms—didn’t blink. “He has three. One is lined with titanium. One is wallpapered with Gojo-san’s baby photos. We do not enter it.”

Nanami’s pen paused mid-note, his gold wedding band glinting. “She’s not a combatant. She can’t defend herself against c-users.”

Gojo’s smirk vanished, his voice dropping to something darker. “And now, her bounty matches mine.”

The silence in the room was palpable, a live wire. Takahashi, curled in his heated pet bed, let out a tiny snore.

The SAS medic—a woman with a coiled braid and a grip that could crush tracheas—rubbed her temples. “We’re glorified nannies. Emotional support detail. Decoys.”

Nanami didn’t look up. “In case both of us die, Keji initiates the escape route. She doesn’t know about it. She already has insomnia. And stop calling it Project: Dead Dads.”

A former JSDF SOG operative, a wiry man who looked like he hadn’t slept in days, swallowed audibly. “Do we evacuate Takahashi?”

Gojo’s fingers stilled on his watermelon lollipop wrapper, the crinkle deafening. “What did I just say.”

Keji turned toward the security feeds, his profile sharp enough to draw blood. “He has a private jet. Smaller than Madame’s. Faster. I’m not authorized to speak why.”

Nanami’s glasses caught the light as he flipped a page. “There are four exit tunnels. One goes through a matcha café. Another leads under the koi pond, keyed to her retinal scan and Takahashi’s scent profile.”

The ex-jujutsu sorcerer—an older woman with ink-black nails and a lazy, lethal posture—stretched like a cat. “I taught metaphysics at Yale.”

Gojo’s grin returned, wider. “Now you guard a raccoon with a Hermès sponsorship and a platinum AmEx. Life’s a ride.”

An ex-MPD VIP guard, a hulking man with a baby face, muttered into his comms. “I used to run fintech. Now I sterilize breast pumps and sleep beneath a floating shikigami terrarium.”

Ignoring him, Nanami’s thumb brushed the edge of his wedding ring. “In an active threat, she and Takahashi go in the bunker. Keji, you emotionally stabilize her. Feed the raccoon his lavender sardine paste.”

Keji’s jaw tightened, leather gloves creaking. “It’s handmade. Infused with omega-3 and respect. I recite Edith Piaf while preparing it.”

Gojo twirled his sunglasses. “He even sings La Vie en Rose during thunderstorms.”

The lights flickered. No one moved.

Takahashi’s screech echoed down the hall—a sound like an opera-trained kettle being murdered.

Nanami didn’t react. “Seventy-five minutes. That’s all they’re allowed in the residence. Treat this as a red-tier civilian intrusion. Assume bugs, surveillance, and attempted breaches.”

Gojo licked his lollipop slowly. “And no touching the raccoon. She said she’ll cancel the shoot if they mess with his whiskers.”

Every head nodded. No one questioned it.

The upgraded chief logistics officer—a woman with a steel-gray bob and a sniper’s stillness—tapped her tablet. “We’ve staged all bathrooms, prepped diversionary designer fragrances, and disabled motion sensor lighting in the koi corridor. It made the raccoon look too... strategic.”

Keji, adjusting his gloves, coolly added, “Takahashi is sentient. And emotionally fragile.”

Nanami’s voice was sharp as a blade. “Staff wears navy. Press wears tags. Anyone untagged after the 42-minute mark: detain.”

The ex-Metropolitan Police officer, a woman built like a brick wall with a matching smirk, raised a brow. “If questioned?”

Gojo’s teeth flashed in a grin. “Blame jet lag. Or say they threatened the raccoon and his wildlife habitat.”

Another nod followed, deadly serious.

Nanami’s watch gleamed as he switched tabs. “Lighting rig pathways are pre-approved. No one enters the nursery, gaming room, or her lower office. Those are closed sets. If they insist—deny with polite aggression.”

Gojo pointed at the NSA tech, who shrank in his chair. “If they get pushy, hand them the fake NDA. The one with clause 14 about raccoon-based defamation lawsuits.”

The tech, a freckled kid who looked barely old enough to be here, stammered, “We scrubbed her images from the mob lynch incident off the internet. All reverse image searches redirect to a red fox in a Dior scarf.”

Keji’s mouth curled into a smirk. “We paid extra for that one. The fox is a union.”

The medical lead—a woman with biceps that could crack walnuts and a glare to match—slapped her protocol sheet down. “She’s on four prescriptions. None are to be mentioned. If she starts to spiral—”

Keji’s smile was all edges, his gloved fingers tapping once against his biceps. “I’ll realign her using the 'accidental' footage of Nanami-san cooking shirtless last week. It’s preloaded. Subtitled. And scored with Chopin.”

Nanami’s pen froze mid-air. “That wasn’t for anyone.”

Gojo, sprawled across two chairs, licked his lollipop with deliberate slowness. “It was for me. Obviously.”

An ex-JSDF pilot—a woman in her 50s with salt-and-pepper hair and a posture that screamed combat-ready—adjusted her earpiece. “Chopper’s on standby. Six-minute extraction from Okinawa. The vault opens in two. If she won’t move, the fetal monitor’s embedded in her gaming chair.”

Nanami's wedding band caught the light as he massaged his temple. “She won’t move. Not if they bring up Gojo’s hair again.”

Gojo’s sunglasses slid down as he jerked upright, voice dripping with offense. “My hair is real. Shut up.”

The cybersecurity lead asked, “Do we allow footage of the nursery?”

Nanami didn’t hesitate, his voice a steel door slamming shut. “No. The twins will not be monetized.”

Gojo twirled his sunglasses, his grin razor-thin. “Also, the wallpaper isn’t finished, and she’ll have a hormonal breakdown.”

The MPD veteran, a barrel-chested man with a voice like gravel, scratched his stubble. “What if they film the raccoon singing? The sound’s been... described as ‘emotional.’”

Keji turned to the camera, his smirk all quiet arrogance. “He sings behind silk. You hear him only if he allows it.”

Nanami’s finger traced the exit tunnel diagram, his glasses glinting like a warning. “Only Keji knows all exit codes. If she starts crying—”

Another SAS medic—a woman with a shaved head and a stare that could curdle milk—didn’t blink. “We sedate her and blame prenatal yoga. Like last time.”

The mood in the room remained tense.

Nanami’s knuckles went white around his folder. “We protect her. We protect the twins. You protect that damn raccoon like he’s the crown prince of France. If she stubs her toe and Vogue sees it—this entire household is done.”

Another NSA hacker, a young woman fixing her gloss, muttered under her breath. “She has three degrees, and one of them is in an unknown field. So I’m pretty sure she could crush this whole network if she wanted to.”

Keji leaned back, satisfaction rolling off him in waves. “She has. Twice.”

Gojo chewed the last of his lollipop. “Accidentally.”

The lights flickered—once.

“One lipstick smear on the marble. One wrong tote bag. One smug remark about ‘modern poly households’—I will end this.” Nanami’s final note was a scalpel to the throat, but his gaze softened as he glanced at his wife dozing on his shoulder, her cheek smooshed against the Kevlar vest.

Gojo rose, stretching with all his lazy grace, kissed Nanami's temple just to annoy him before scooping their wife into his arms like she still weighed nothing. Her sleepy “mmf?” earned a chuckle as he adjusted the hem of her shirt over her bump as she put her arms around him. “Smile for the cameras tomorrow, people,” he purred to the team, but his wedding ring-adorned finger brushed her knee—a silent you’re safe—as he carried her toward the bed, her breathing already muffled against his shoulder.

The private feed cut.

The koi pond glowed an eerie blue.

The single baby sock is still floating over it.

Video Title Card: The Pregnant CEO, The Two Husbands, and The Raccoon With Executive Privilege.

---

A/N: If you laughed, cried, or now fear Nanami’s spreadsheet skills, scream at me in the comments. (Gojo’s ego needs the validation. Takahashi demands tribute in lychee Pocky.)

Previous Oneshot Chapter [Tumblr/Ao3] | Main Series [Tumblr/Ao3]

Next Chapter Gojo Satoru’s Public Display of Wife Theft [Tumblr/Ao3]

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Beta - @blackrimmedrose