#Plastic Compounds for Electronics

[chemicalmarketwatch-sp]

The Future of the Plastic Compounds Market: Innovations and Growth Opportunities

The plastic compounds market is poised for significant growth, driven by the increasing demand for innovative materials across industries such as automotive, packaging, electronics, and construction. Plastic compounds, which are materials made by combining polymers with additives, fillers, and reinforcements, are widely used for their versatility, performance, and ability to be customized to meet specific needs.

With the global focus on sustainability and environmental responsibility, manufacturers are also looking for solutions that contribute to greener and more efficient production. This blog explores key trends shaping the plastic compounding industry, as well as opportunities and challenges ahead.

Key Growth Drivers in the Plastic Compounds Market

Demand from the Automotive Industry The automotive plastic compounds sector is a key driver of market growth. The increasing use of lightweight materials in vehicle production is vital for improving fuel efficiency and reducing emissions. Thermoplastic compounds like polypropylene and polyethylene, known for their strength, durability, and lightweight properties, are replacing metals in various automotive components, from dashboards to bumpers. Additionally, high-performance plastic compounds such as nylon and polycarbonate are finding applications in areas requiring enhanced durability, heat resistance, and impact protection. As electric vehicles (EVs) gain popularity, the demand for specialized plastic compounds in battery casings, connectors, and interior components is expected to surge.

Rising Demand for Sustainable and Biodegradable Compounds The trend toward sustainability is influencing the plastic compounds market. Consumers and industries alike are focusing on reducing plastic waste and improving recyclability. Biodegradable plastic compounds are gaining traction as eco-friendly alternatives, particularly in the packaging industry, where they reduce the environmental footprint. Recycled plastic compounds are another area of interest. Manufacturers are incorporating post-consumer recycled content into new products to meet regulatory requirements and corporate sustainability goals. For example, plastic compounds for electronics are increasingly made from recycled plastics, reducing dependency on virgin materials.

Growing Applications in Packaging The plastic compounds in packaging industry are experiencing robust demand as companies seek to improve product protection while minimizing weight and material usage. Flexible packaging, in particular, benefits from the use of specialty plastic compounds that offer high-performance barrier properties, ensuring product freshness and extending shelf life. Plastic packaging compounds also play a role in reducing environmental impact. Sustainable plastic compounds developed for packaging are designed to be recyclable or compostable, reducing waste generation and supporting circular economy initiatives.

Advancements in Electronics and Construction The electronics industry is increasingly adopting plastic compounds for electronics applications. These compounds offer excellent electrical insulation, heat resistance, and flame retardancy, making them ideal for use in smartphones, laptops, and other consumer electronics. Moreover, flame retardant plastic compounds are critical for ensuring safety in electrical and electronic applications. In the construction industry, plastic compounds for construction are being used in pipes, window frames, insulation, and flooring materials due to their durability, resistance to corrosion, and ease of installation. PVC compounds are a popular choice, offering cost-effective solutions for a variety of building materials.

Healthcare Applications The plastic compounding industry is also seeing increased use in healthcare, especially in medical devices and equipment. Plastic compounds for medical applications need to meet strict regulations for biocompatibility, sterility, and resistance to chemicals. Polyethylene, polypropylene, and PVC compounds are frequently used in medical tubing, syringes, and surgical instruments.

Market Challenges and Opportunities

Environmental Concerns One of the biggest challenges facing the plastic compounds market is the growing concern over plastic pollution. Single-use plastics, in particular, contribute significantly to waste generation, leading to increased pressure on manufacturers to develop sustainable plastic compounds that reduce their environmental impact. To address these concerns, companies are focusing on creating biodegradable plastic compounds and enhancing recycling technologies. However, the high cost of producing biodegradable and recycled materials remains a barrier to widespread adoption.

Innovation in Plastic Additives Innovation in plastic additives plays a crucial role in enhancing the performance of plastic compounds. Additives can improve properties such as UV resistance, flame retardancy, and strength, making plastic compounds suitable for a wider range of applications. The development of additives that enhance the recyclability of plastics is also an area of active research, offering opportunities for growth.

Emerging Markets Rapid industrialization and urbanization in emerging economies are creating significant opportunities for the global plastic compounds market. Countries in Asia-Pacific, particularly China and India, are witnessing increased demand for plastic compounds in construction, packaging, and automotive applications. In addition, the growing middle class in these regions is driving demand for consumer goods, further boosting the need for high-quality plastic compounds. This trend is expected to continue, with the Asia-Pacific region leading the global market in the coming years.

Download PDF Brochure : 

The plastic compounds market is undergoing rapid evolution, driven by the demand for lightweight, durable, and sustainable materials across industries. From automotive plastic compounds that improve fuel efficiency to plastic compounds in packaging industry applications that reduce waste, the market is full of innovation and opportunity.

As manufacturers continue to invest in R&D and new technologies, recycled plastic compounds, biodegradable plastic compounds, and sustainable plastic compounds will play an increasingly important role in meeting both consumer demand and environmental regulations. For businesses involved in plastic compounding, the future holds immense potential, provided they can navigate challenges related to cost, environmental impact, and innovation.The plastic compounding industry is on the cusp of significant growth, with advancements in materials, additives, and applications opening new avenues for market expansion. With a strong focus on sustainability and performance, the industry is well-positioned to meet the evolving needs of modern industries and consumers alike.

[x-press-it]

Doll

Some names bruise deeper than others 🎞️🖤🌹✅

Soft!Bucky Barnes x Tech Girl!reader

Summary: Bucky’s been flirting with the team’s tech girl for weeks. She’s sharp, funny, always a step ahead of him—and their slow-burn flirtation has become the highlight of his days. They tease, they banter, they orbit closer. Until one word—just one—shatters everything. He doesn’t know why. Not at first.

What follows isn’t an apology. It’s a lesson in patience. In gentleness.

This is a story about trauma and tenderness. About how the wrong word can reopen old wounds—and how the right actions can help them start to heal.

Content Warnings: Heavy angst with happy ending. Pet names (Doll, Sweetheart.) Mention of alcohol and smoking (sort of). Mentions of car accident, loss, grief, emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, references to non-consensual dynamics (no explicit scenes), trauma processing, dissociation, and complex PTSD.

This story handles survivor experiences with care, but please prioritize your own well-being if these topics are sensitive for you.

If I forgot some, please tell me, I'll add them.

Reader Notes: No Y/N, no physical description of the reader, but the protagonist has an established backstory, which is why this is written in the third person rather than the second.

English isn’t my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences…

Notes: Teased it in my last sneak peek.

I wrote this because I needed to.

In so many stories, Bucky uses the pet name “Doll”—and every time, it pulls me out of the moment. For a lot of people, it’s harmless or even sweet. But for some of us, it’s a word that’s been used to belittle, to erase, to control. To make us feel small. Breakable. Replaceable.

This piece was born from that. A quiet defiance, maybe. A reclamation.

I wanted a version of Bucky who doesn’t just avoid that word—but understands, why it hurts. A version who listens before he touches. Who knows that softness is stronger than rage, and that surviving isn’t something broken—it’s something sacred.

I’ve woven some of my own past into this story, in small, careful ways. Not enough to spill it all, but just enough to be honest. If any part of this resonates with you—you’re not alone. You’re never alone. And you deserve the kind of love that asks nothing of you.

Stay safe.

Edit: Did a few light touch-ups here and there for flavor after a few hours of sleep ^^"

Need some music? I’ve got you.

Word Count: 11.5K

Late afternoon settled over the compound—heavy, and still. The kind of slow quiet that only came once training sessions ended, when the sun dipped just enough to bleed through the glass-paneled corridors and dust danced in the light, glittering. Most people were elsewhere—burning off steam in the gym, sneaking snacks from the kitchen, or finally, blissfully, leaving work behind in the common room.

But not her.

She was still tucked in her little office, a soft pocket just off the main hall that people playfully called the tech wing. The glow of three monitors flickered against her face, casting her features in shifting blues. Empty mugs—too many—stood forgotten near the edge of the desk, the scent of something like plastic burnt in the wiring lingering faintly in the air. Her fingers flew across the keys, quick and precise, trying to breathe life back into a line of code that refused to behave.

A soft electronic beat pulsed low through her speakers, something calm, ambient, the kind of music that filled the silence and kept her focused.

Then—three knocks.

Firm. Intentional. Steady.

She didn’t bother to look up.

“If it’s about your playlist, Mr. Stark,” she called, a little dry, “I’m still not giving you clearance to hijack SHIELD servers just to blast AC/DC in the showers.”

Silence.

Then a voice that didn’t belong to Stark—lower, raspier, but with a curious kind of softness too. Like it wasn’t used to being gentle but tried, just for her.

“Wasn’t planning on singing in the showers,” it said, a touch of humor curling around the words, “but now you’ve got me thinking about it.”

Her hands stilled. Slowly, she lifted her head toward the door.

Leaning against the frame, like the space had been made for him to fill it, was James Buchanan Barnes. He had a tablet in one hand, the other casually shoved into the pocket of his jeans. The sleeves of his dark blue Henley were rolled to his elbows, exposing the metal gleam of his left forearm and the soft, warm skin of the right. His hair was messier than usual. Shadows clung to his jaw, under his eyes. He looked tired.

Tired in the way people looked when sleep didn’t come easy. Tired but in that unfairly handsome in the late afternoon light kind of way.

“You're not Stark,” she stated, finally.

He smirked, faint and crooked. “Glad you noticed.”

He lifted the tablet a little, like a peace offering. “I think I broke this. Or it broke me. Not sure which came first. Either way, it’s not working.”

She blinked once, lips twitching despite herself as she gestured for him to hand it over with an extended hand in his direction. “Let me guess. Forgot your password again after the last security update?”

“You change the rules every month. Feels like sabotage... or emotional warfare.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but there was a glint of mirth in them.

“It’s protocol, Barnes. Not everything’s a conspiracy. And no, you can’t pick ‘password123’ again.”

He stepped into the room like he belonged there, slow and easy, closer than necessary.

Close enough for her to catch that faint mixed scent of leather, metal, and the trace of gunpowder that seemed woven into his skin. But there was something else too, something warm. Something that didn’t belong to the soldier, but to the man underneath. The man who looked at her like he wasn’t sure if he deserved to.

He set the tablet gently in her open hand, fingers faintly brushing against hers, then didn’t move away. He stayed there, hip leaning against the edge, arms crossing over his chest as his gaze lingered on her—quiet, watching, like he wasn’t in a rush to leave.

“Gotta make sure you keep your job,” he said, voice low and a little too smooth. “Figure if I keep breaking shit, you’ll have to keep fixing it.”

She arched a brow. “This your idea of flirting?”

He tilted his head. “Is it working?”

She huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head as she started navigating the menus of the tablet, fingers brushing the screen, tapping through the security prompts.

“You’re lucky I like a challenge,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” he said, voice nearly a whisper. “Lucky me, doll.”

Her hands stopped mid-type.

The word—that word—hit like a knife between her ribs.

The smile she’d almost given him fell away. Her whole body seemed to still, breath caught somewhere just out of reach. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t speak. Just stared at the screen, as if it had turned to stone beneath her hands.

Like she was watching things only she could see. Things replaying in her mind.

Like if she didn’t move, maybe the past wouldn’t catch up.

“Don’t,” she finally said.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.

Bucky’s brows knit, confusion creasing the space between his eyes as the teasing ease dropped from his voice. “Sorry?”

Her gaze met his. Steady. Flat. But underneath the emotionless surface was something sharp. Cold steel lined with something rawer, still bleeding.

“Don’t call me that.”

There was silence—thick, uncertain.

He straightened, just barely, but enough to show the shift in the air hadn’t gone unnoticed. He didn’t understand it yet—but he felt it. Like a tremor before a quake.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, quieter this time. Almost careful.

She gave a nod. A small, controlled gesture. But it wasn’t agreement. It was containment. A leash on a storm.

“I’m not a doll, Barnes.” Her voice didn’t shake, but there was an edge to it, like glass stuck in an old wound, reopening it from the inside. “I’m not some… pretty thing you can pick up and carry around when you’re bored and drop when you’ve had enough. I’m not yours to name like a toy. So don’t call me that.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw clenched, and for once, James Buchanan Barnes—the man made for war, the ex-assassin, the soldier who never seemed rattled—looked like he realized he’d just stepped into a minefield.

“…Okay,” he said at last. Rough. Honest. A little wrecked around the edges. “Okay. I won’t.”

The quiet that followed wasn’t empty—it was heavy. Suspended.

Not awkward. Tense. The kind of silence that presses on your chest like guilt. Like grief. Like something fragile had cracked between them and neither knew how to glue it back together.

She didn’t look at him again.

She turned back to her work, face set in lines too still, too clean. No more teasing smirk. No more jokes. Just methodical typing, every keystroke measured like it mattered more than him standing there.

A wall had gone up.

Solid. Impenetrable.

Laced with barbed-wire—built not just to keep him out, but to make sure he felt it if he ever tried to cross.

Bucky lingered there just a heartbeat too long. Long enough to feel the absence of whatever had been there before, curling around them like smoke.

“…Right,” he murmured, shifting his weight like it suddenly didn’t sit right in his own skin. “Thanks for helping.”

No answer. Just the faint tap of her fingers on the cool surface and the cold glow of the screen.

She typed until the lockout cleared, then set the tablet on the desk quietly. No flair. No flourish. Just another problem solved.

“Here. Done.”

Flat. Dismissive.

Already, her hand was moving back to her keyboard. Like he’d never stepped inside. Like his voice, his smirk, his mistake, had never touched the air.

He watched her, chest tight with something he couldn’t name. Something that twisted low in his stomach. Coiling like a cold snake.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—maybe a sarcastic you’re welcome, maybe a glare—but this quiet dismissal? It made his skin itch in a way any mission, even the most crazy and suicidal ones, never had.

He picked up the tablet slowly, fingers brushing the spot she’d just touched, like it might give him back a piece of the warmth he’d just lost.

“…Alright. I’ll, uh. See you around.”

Still nothing.

And maybe that was the worst part.

He turned—quiet, always quiet—but it felt different this time. Like he was walking out of a room that had shut him out before he ever left it, like whatever had been forming between them had just died on the operating table.

He reached the door.

Paused.

Something tugged at him—not her, not a sound, just something. Regret maybe. Or the echo of her voice, her words, in his bones.

Hand on the doorframe, he looked back over his shoulder. Just once.

She hadn’t moved. Still typing, still half-hidden, shielded behind her monitors, like they could make her invisible. Like it was safer not to be seen.

“…I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” he said, softer now. The kind of softness that came from standing in the wreckage of something you didn’t realize was breakable. “I’m sorry.”

Then he left.

The door shut softly behind him.

Only then did she stop typing.

Her fingers hovered uselessly above the keys, shaking, and for a long second, the only thing that moved was the slight fall of her chest as the breath she’d been holding slid out in one long, deflating exhale.

The screen in front of her was still glowing, lines of code sharp and insistent—but she didn’t see any of it.

Instead, her mind replayed every word. Every look. The sound of his voice when he said that word.

And then—after she’d lashed out—how his mouth had tightened. Not anger. Just shock. Confused. Hurt.

Because it wasn’t him she was angry at. Not really.

It was everything else. Everything before.

The way it had hit too close to old wounds, too identical to how she had felt all those years ago. All the names she’d been given without permission, the way she’d once been someone’s possession instead of a person. The way she’d let it happen, because it was what was expected of her. But also just to feel loved. Just to feel seen. Just to feel alive again… not just a fucking walking corpse…

And now Bucky—of all people—had said it, not knowing what it unearthed in her. Not knowing how deep it could cut.

And it wasn’t fair, not to him. He hadn’t deserved the frost she’d wrapped around her voice like a knife.

But the words had come out anyway.

And now all that was left behind was the low, dull throb of guilt.

She leaned back slowly in her chair, the stiff material creaking beneath her, and closed her eyes like that might somehow keep the ache from spreading.

“…Shit,” she whispered, barely audible.

Her eyes lingered on the closed door.

She had overreacted. He probably hadn’t meant it like that. And he deserved more than a sharp silence—sharp enough to slice back. Meant to hurt. Meant to make him feel it. To make him bleed the way his words had. It hadn’t been fair. But in that moment, she’d wanted it. A blade to skin with his name on the steel, deliberate, designed to cut deep.

And then she was moving—almost without thought, her body pulled forward like a string had yanked tight in her chest. She pushed up from the chair like staying still might break her open.

He’d looked hurt. Not wounded like in a fight. Hurt, like he’d been trying and she’d shut the door anyway.

Not defensive. Not cocky.

No.

He looked guilty.

Just sorry.

She stepped into the hallway with quick, urgent strides, rounding the corner like she could still catch him.

And she did.

But he wasn’t alone.

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall like she owned it—casual, elegant, unshakable. Her arms were crossed loosely over her chest, and something he said made her smirk, the kind of smirk that knew things—intimately. Bucky tilted his head toward her, his expression soft. At ease. Like nothing had gone wrong today.

A low, honest laugh escaped him. The kind of laugh she hadn’t heard from him directed at her, ever.

She stopped walking.

Just… stopped.

From this far away, the words were a blur, but the picture was clear enough. Natasha’s hand drifted lightly to his arm, and Bucky didn’t pull away. Didn’t even flinch. His lips tugged into a crooked grin similar to the one he had given her earlier, before she had slammed her armor into his face.

It made something twist sharply in her stomach.

They looked right together.

Easy.

Whole.

And suddenly, she felt like a jagged edge in a world of smooth pieces.

Natasha could take a nickname like “doll” and spin it into something smart and flirty. She could disarm it. Own it. She didn’t carry the same kind of ghosts. She didn’t freeze up. She didn’t bleed out over nothing.

Her jaw clenched. Her hand curled into a fist, fingernails digging into her palm like maybe pain would keep the rising tide at bay.

“Never mind,” she muttered, her voice hollow.

She turned.

And this time, she walked slower—like her bones were heavier now, filled with something bitter and sinking. The fight had drained out of her legs. The words she’d meant to say sat unsaid in the back of her throat, sour and sharp.

She didn’t look back again.

But the image of them—smiling, close, fitting—stayed with her, burned into the backs of her eyes.

She returned to her office like she was retreating, not walking. Like the door would protect her from the ache clawing up her spine, in her chest, at her heart.

The code still sat unfinished on her screen. Her chair waited, still turned from when she’d pushed out of it in a rush.

But the warmth was gone.

The quiet playlist felt different now—too quiet. Too cold. Too impersonal.

And the taste in her mouth?

Still there.

Still bitter.

Still lingering.

Bucky was still laughing at Natasha’s comment.

Or at least, it looked like he was.

The sound was there—low, familiar, warm enough to pass. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not the way it should have.

Like his body knew how to go through the motions, but his mind had lagged behind.

Still caught somewhere else.

On someone else.

Like he’d brushed past barbed-wire, and the sting lingered at the back of his mind.

The next laugh came quieter than the one before—softer, thinner, as if whatever had sparked it was already fading from his grasp. A moment, gone before he could hold it.

Just a quick movement.

His gaze drifted, pulled by something he hadn’t meant to notice.

Just a flicker.

The ghost of a shadow at the edge of the hall.

A retreating blur of familiar fabric. The shape of her hair catching the light before vanishing around the corner.

He squinted. Tilted his head. Leaned slightly, like maybe—just maybe—that would call her back into view.

But there was nothing.

The hallway was still.

Silent.

His body—his whole weight—shifted. He turned, instinctive and slow, like his chest was tugged by a thread he didn’t fully understand.

But—

“Hey,” Natasha’s voice cut through the haze, sharp enough to pull him back. “You see a ghost or something?”

He blinked, the mirage fading like smoke, turning his focus back to his friend. “What?”

“You looked like you saw a ghost,” she said, raising one brow. Her gaze flicked toward the hallway, curiosity tugging her attention for half a beat—like she was trying to catch whatever he’d seen—before sliding back to him.

She leaned in, casual and unshakable, crossing one leg over the other like she had all the time in the world. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Too fast. A deflection polished by habit.

He shook his head, like he could physically toss off the tight pull still lingering in his chest. “Thought I saw someone, that’s all.”

“Mmm.” That sound told him exactly what she thought of that answer.

Nat never bought his I’m fine, especially not when he served it up that quickly.

Her eyes flicked to the tablet tucked under his arm, and her mouth curved into a smirk—sharp, knowing, amused.

“Wait… Let me guess.” She pointed at the device like it held a piece of juicy gossip, a secret she was dying to unwrap. “You went to see the tech girl, didn’t you?”

Bucky’s jaw ticked despite himself. A flicker of a reaction, small enough most wouldn’t notice—but Natasha did.

“I needed my password reset,” he said, deadpan.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” she teased, her tone sugar-sweet with a razor underneath. “Password resets and awkward flirting?”

“There wasn’t—” He exhaled hard through his nose, shifting his grip on the tablet. “It wasn’t flirting.”

Natasha gave him a look that practically screamed sure, sweetheart.

“You flirt with her every time you walk into her office,” she said, arms folding. “And she flirts back.”

“She didn’t this time,” Bucky muttered.

Soft. Quieter. Like the words hurt to say out loud.

That paused her.

The teasing faltered, just enough for something else to slip through—curiosity, maybe. Concern. Her smile didn’t vanish, but it changed. Tilted. Recalculating. Like she was reevaluating the board mid-game.

She didn’t press.

Just leaned in and tapped the tablet with one perfect nail. “Careful, Barnes. Those quiet ones? They’ll wreck you if you let them.”

He didn’t respond.

Didn’t need to.

His eyes had already wandered back to the hallway.

Back to the place where she’d been.

Or where he thought she’d been.

And the space was empty.

Too empty.

Like something had been there a moment ago—someone—and now it was gone.

Like something delicate had cracked open in his hands—something that had trusted him to hold it gently.

And he'd shattered it, without meaning to.

And now all that was left was the echo.

He didn’t even know what he’d done—how he’d broken it.

Just that it had once been his to protect.

And he hadn’t.

It’d been days, and the moment still lingered like a bitter taste in Bucky's mouth.

Sharp.

Metallic.

Like blood he hadn’t meant to draw.

He’d catch himself thinking about her in the most random moments—mid-mission briefings, quiet breakfasts, even when he was watching something dumb on TV just to fill the silence. It crept in without warning: the way her whole body had changed in an instant. The way her eyes had gone blank. Like a switch had flipped.

One word. That’s all it took.

Doll.

He hadn’t even meant anything by it. It had slipped out, natural as breathing. A soft note in a playful conversation that had felt—up until then—familiar. Safe. Like something they were building, brick by careful brick.

He’d called a hundred women “doll” in his life—before. Before everything. Before he forgot how to be a person. Before he became a weapon, a tool. The Winter Soldier.

But she… she’d looked like he’d hit her, like he’d stabbed her in the chest. Like he’d peeled open something she’d been trying to keep buried.

And he couldn’t stop replaying it. Couldn’t stop feeling it. That flicker in her eyes, the way she pulled inward like she was bracing for a blow.

So that evening, when the compound had gone quiet and her shift technically ended half an hour ago but a soft glow still shone under her office door, Bucky made his way down the hallway.

He carried two glasses and a bottle of honey whiskey he’d picked up days ago. Not for himself. He didn’t even drink much these days.

She’d mentioned it once. A passing comment to one of her colleagues in the cafeteria while stirring sugar into her coffee—something about how she liked to unwind with a glass after a long day. She’d smiled when she said it. Not one of those polite workplace smiles, but a real one. Tired around the edges, but honest.

Unarmored.

It had stuck. Lodged itself somewhere under his ribs, like a fragmented bullet, and refused to leave.

He stopped in front of her door, heart tripping over itself in a rhythm that felt unfamiliar. The light beneath the frame didn’t move. No shadow. No footsteps. Just stillness.

He knocked, soft. Two taps with his knuckles. No metal. Just skin and hesitation.

“Come in,” she called, distracted.

The door slid open, and Bucky stepped inside. The soft click of it closing behind him felt final. Too final. Like walking into something he couldn’t walk back out of.

Her office was dim, lit mostly by the eerie glow of her monitors—three screens reflected in her glasses, alive with what looked like moving lines of code that made no sense to him.

She didn’t look up at first.

He stood there, silent. Just watching. The way her brows knit together, how her lips pressed into a thin line when something didn’t behave the way she wanted. She was always beautiful, but like this? Focused, brilliant, unaware of him?

It made his throat ache.

When he finally took a step forward, she glanced up. And there it was—that beat of hesitation. Too long to ignore. Like she didn’t know who he was to her anymore. Like she didn’t know who she was to him.

Her fingers didn’t stop typing, not completely.

“Locked yourself out of your tablet again?”

Dry. Not cruel. But void of the warmth they used to pass back and forth like a shared cigarette.

Bucky lifted the bottle slightly, the glasses clinking gently in his other hand. “Nope,” he said, voice as easy as he could make it. Like he wasn’t standing there with a fucking apology trembling in his chest. “Thought I’d come bury the hatchet.”

She raised a brow, skeptical. But she didn’t tell him to get out.

“I mean,” he added, moving up to the edge of her desk, “I can’t have my favorite tech person mad at me. Who the hell would I go to next time I need something fixed? Tony? He’d make me do a favor first. Probably something humiliating.”

That got the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth. But it was like watching a smile die in real time. It didn’t land the way he wanted. Not all the way.

His own smile wavered. Just a flicker—but enough. The tightness between his brows gave him away. And she noticed. Of course she noticed.

She always noticed.

The way his shoulders were too stiff beneath the hoodie he wore like armor. The way his fingers curled too tight around the neck of the bottle like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.

He was trying. Really trying.

And for a moment, that office wasn’t filled with the hum of computers, or the glow of code—it was just them. Standing in the space between what they had been, and whatever came next.

And it hurt.

Damn, it hurt.

And that nagging thought she’d had since she saw him with Natasha—he’s probably into her, that makes more sense—started to crack just a little.

Because this wasn’t a man who’d brushed it off.

He looked like he’d been carrying the scars he made on her barbed-wired armor around every single day since.

Worn them like a weight. Quiet. Invisible. Heavy.

Licking them like a wounded animal.

When she didn’t immediately reply, Bucky didn’t push. He just set the two glasses down gently on the desk and unscrewed the cap, the scent of honey and oak drifting into the room like a peace offering.

“I, uh… sorry, I didn’t bring ice cubes,” he added quickly, pouring the amber liquid into the glasses without looking at her. “Figured it probably wasn’t the best idea with all this tech stuff around. And, y’know, didn’t have enough hands anyway.”

He let out a breath—short and low—like maybe he'd practiced that line in his head and still hated how it sounded.

He offered a small, sheepish shrug, like he wasn’t sure if he was being charming or just awkward. Maybe both.

Maybe he didn’t know how to be either with her anymore.

The bottle gave a soft clink as he set it aside. He slid one glass toward her without forcing it, without asking if she wanted it. Just… placed it within reach. Like a gesture more than a drink.

A way to say, I’m still here. If you want me to be.

He leaned against the edge of her desk, turning his glass slowly in his hand, eyes down on the rippling whiskey like it might give him the courage to finish the thought.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about the other day,” he said, quieter now. “I know I probably stepped on a landmine without realizing. And I didn’t come here to make you explain it. You don’t owe me that… or anything for that matter.”

He finally looked at her again, blue eyes steady but softer than usual. Still haunted, maybe—but this was a different kind of ghost behind them.

Not the kind that came from bloodshed or war.

The kind that came from hurting someone you care about and not knowing if you’d ever be let close enough to make it right.

“I just… I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said simply.

No excuses.

No charm.

Just truth.

And it hung in the air like a thunderbolt.

She sighed. The kind that slipped out before she could catch it, heavy with everything unsaid.

Everything she'd swallowed down for days.

All the old pain she thought she’d buried deep enough to forget.

Bucky glanced up at the sound, gaze searching her face like he was bracing for another verbal grenade. But she didn’t detonate this time.

Instead, she leaned back in her seat, finally dragging her eyes from the screen to him. Her fingers curled around the glass, still warm from his hand, and she stared at the whiskey for a beat before lifting it to her lips.

Just a small sip. Just enough to chase down the lump in her throat.

“Thanks,” she murmured, the edge in her voice softened now. “For this.”

He nodded, barely a shift of his chin, like he was afraid moving too much might make her retreat again.

Like he knew exactly how delicate the moment was.

How close it hovered to unraveling.

She didn’t look at him when she spoke next, but her voice was steadier. Quieter, too.

“I, uh… I overreacted,” she said. “You didn’t know. It’s just… that word. It reopened something. Old wounds.”

Her fingers tightened a little on the glass, then relaxed again. She still didn’t offer more, didn’t owe him more. But even that sliver of honesty was already a lot.

More than she’d given most people in years.

And Bucky, who’d been holding his breath like a soldier waiting for the next bullet, exhaled.

“Okay,” he said gently. “I get it.”

There was a silence, but it was a softer one now. No tension. Just the space between two people who were cautiously lowering their armor again.

Piece by piece.

Careful. Quiet.

“I won’t call you that again,” he said, voice quiet but steady—an understanding, not a question.

Because yeah, he cared.

And maybe… maybe he always had.

“Good,” she said simply, eyes steady on him now. “Don’t.”

There wasn’t a tremble in her voice, but there was weight.

Years of it, maybe.

A decade buried, folded behind a single word.

And it landed like a stone in his chest.

He nodded once, slow and sure.

“Okay,” he said. No argument, no pushback. “I won’t.”

Another silence bloomed between them. But this time it wasn’t uncomfortable—it just was.

Like static in the room that hadn’t quite found a frequency yet.

Like grief and grace trying to coexist.

And maybe, in that fragile quiet, something had started to mend.

Not fully. Not yet.

But the first stitch had been made.

She sank into her chair a bit more, eyes drifting, unfocused, as if pulled into some memory only she could see. The kind that still had claws, and fangs, and spikes—that still drew blood when she looked too long. Her thumb slowly traced the rim of the glass, absent and automatic—something to do with her hands while the rest of her tried not to splinter under the weight of it.

Bucky didn’t move, just stood there, sipping quietly, like he understood she needed the silence more than the sound. Like he knew how not to crowd someone who was fighting ghosts of their own.

Because he did.

When she blinked herself back to the present, the first thing she noticed was that he was still standing. Still watching. Still there. The sight of it twisted something in her chest—something sharp and untrusting.

She frowned softly. “You’re making me feel like I’m being interviewed by HR.”

He arched a brow, puzzled, until she reached over and tugged a second office chair with her foot. The wheels squeaked softly against the tile, loud in the quiet room, like a tiny protest from the world outside their tension.

“Sit down,” she said, nudging it closer to him. “You’re giving me a neck cramp.”

He huffed something between a laugh and a sigh—like even that simple sound carried a weight he didn’t know what to do with—and took the seat, lowering himself into it like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to make himself comfortable here. Like comfort was something he had to earn in her kingdom now.

She watched him over the rim of her glass again as he took another sip. Watched the way his fingers curved around the drink like it was something to hold onto. Watched the crease in his brow that hadn’t left since he walked in. Like he hadn’t let himself breathe since the last time they spoke.

Something about the way he sat, the way his shoulders held tension even now—like he was still waiting for her to push him away—made it harder to dismiss him.

She could feel her brain trying to pick apart the code. To debug the situation. Trying to determine: Is he doing this because he genuinely cares? Because the thought of hurting me kept him up at night?

Or was it just another tactic, another mask? Something polished. Practiced. The way others had smiled at her before they stole something they had no right to.

Or worse—maybe he wasn’t just trying to take something. Maybe he wanted to keep her. Add her to whatever collection he had, like a thing that looked good beside all the others.

Conquests. One-night stands. Girls. Women.

However he was calling it.

His eyes met hers just then—maybe he felt her watching.

Or maybe he was always watching her—just not head-on. Quietly. Like he didn’t want her to notice.

Like a habit he couldn’t shake.

But he didn’t look smug. Didn’t look like a man who thought he was halfway to a victory.

He looked… guilty. And maybe a little sad. Like something inside him was unraveling in slow, silent threads.

That was harder to fake.

She took another sip and quietly asked, “So… why come back? You already said sorry.”

Her voice wasn’t accusing. Just curious. Careful. Like touching a bruise to see if it still hurt.

He didn’t answer right away.

The question hung in the air between them like a challenge—but not the sharp kind. Not the prove it kind. The kind that said: I want to believe you. Please don’t make me regret it.

Bucky stared at the whiskey in his glass for a beat, rolling it gently in his hand like he was looking for answers in the amber. Then he exhaled through his nose—slow, the kind of breath you let out when you finally stop pretending something doesn’t hurt.

“Because I meant it,” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was steady. “And because saying it once didn’t feel like enough.”

She didn’t move, didn’t look away—just let him speak. Let the words fill the spaces left by all the things unsaid.

“I keep thinking about the way you looked that day. Like I’d flipped a switch in you. One word, and you just… shut the door.” His jaw tensed. “I didn’t know. I couldn’t have, but I still did it. And I hate that. I hate that I did that to you.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed slowly, but she stayed silent, giving him room.

Maybe because part of her wanted to believe this wasn’t just him trying to make peace for his own gain. That it wasn’t some move to ease his guilt or smooth things over just enough to get what he wanted.

Maybe because something in his voice—the strain of it—sounded like it came from the same kind of broken she knew too well.

He continued, fingers tightening just a little around the glass. Like he needed the sting of it to stay grounded.

“It’s not just guilt. It’s not just wanting to make things right so it doesn’t feel awkward the next time I need something fixed.”

A faint, dry smile tugged at the corner of her lips at that, but she stayed quiet.

Not because she didn’t want to speak—but because if she did, she wasn’t sure what might spill out.

“I kept thinking… if it hurt me that much to see you like that, to know I caused it—then it’s not just some fleeting thing, or whatever.”

He looked up at her again, eyes clearer now, like something inside him had clicked into place.

“I care about you.”

The words weren’t dramatic. They didn’t come with a grand gesture or heat behind them.

Just quiet truth. The kind that ached in the silence after.

The kind that left no place to hide.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, the drink forgotten in his hands.

“And I know we don’t know each other that well. But I want to. I want to figure this out—whatever this is.”

Her chest tightened, a flutter blooming somewhere between fear and hope—two old ghosts that never showed up alone.

Fear, because she’d been here before.

Hope, because somehow this felt different.

It always feels different, doesn’t it?

But this… this carried a tremble, like her ribs were bracing against something breaking open.

A part of her already wanted to run.

Another part had never wanted someone to stay so badly.

Bucky looked down again, then back at her, softer now.

“So yeah. I brought the whiskey to say sorry. But I stayed because I’m not ready to give up the way you smile at me when you’re in a good mood. Or the way you tilt your head when you’re trying not to laugh at something dumb I said.”

His mouth twisted into the faintest smile, but it was lined with something older than regret—like he was letting her see a crack in the armor he always wore.

“I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you, even if I never really had you to begin with.”

She studied him for a long, quiet moment.

Eyes narrowed. Teeth pulling lightly at her lower lip, the rim of her glass cradled like it might hold her together. Still, she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. Her gaze was pinned to his like a lifeline, her brain still trying to catch up to the weight of his words.

She was weighing them—each syllable scraping softly against the bruised corners of her trust.

And he didn’t try to smooth over the silence this time. Didn’t offer more to cushion the blow.

Just let her take her time, the flicker of a frown still ghosting between his brows—quiet, pained, like he was already bracing for her to push him away. For her to close the door for good this time.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she gave the faintest little nod, like she’d just negotiated something with her own heart and barely won.

Slowly, she extended her right hand toward his—flesh, not metal. Human.

Trembling, just a little.

Open.

Tentative.

“Apology accepted,” she said, voice soft, brittle at the edges like it had cost her more than he’d ever know.

He blinked, caught off guard—like part of him had already accepted that she wouldn’t.

Then he reached out without hesitation, fingers curling around hers—not possessive, not desperate, but careful. Gentle.

A handshake, yes—but not formal.

It felt like something sacred.

Like a wound being touched for the first time and not flinching.

Like trust.

Then her lips tugged into the faintest smirk as she added, “But next time, I expect ice cubes.”

Bucky gave a quiet huff of a laugh, deep and rough in his chest, and without letting go of her hand, he met her gaze and said, serious and low, “There won’t be a next time. I won’t hurt you again. Not if I can help it.”

And her smirk faltered, melted—softened into something unguarded and warm. Something real.

She held his eyes a second longer, like she was memorizing the way he looked when he promised something with his whole chest and nothing to hide behind.

Then she pulled her hand back gently, the ghost of his touch still clinging to her skin, and leaned into her chair with a slow sigh that carried too much.

Her glass caught the light as she took another sip, something inside her loosening—just a bit. Just enough.

Outside the office, the compound had gone quiet for the night.

Only the low hum of life carried through the halls—voices behind closed doors, footsteps, laughter too distant to reach them.

Everyone else had already folded into comfort and routine.

But in this small pocket off the main hall, in the quiet breath of the tech wing, something else had taken root.

Something raw. Unspoken.

Understanding.

And maybe, the first thread of something that could hold.

It didn’t happen all at once.

But slowly—over shared tech fixes and clinking glasses of whiskey—with the whiskey stones she bought him a week after their little peace talk (“so you don’t have to carry ice around like a caveman,” she’d teased with a grin that caught him off guard and made him stare a beat too long before looking away.)—something shifted.

One afternoon, she helped him pair a Bluetooth speaker. He could’ve figured it out eventually, maybe, but he didn’t try that hard. Not when it meant sitting next to her on the small couch of her office, her leg brushing his every time she leaned forward, her breath close enough to fan over the side of his neck. The speaker crackled to life with one of his playlists—some old blues mixed with newer instrumentals—and she smiled like she hadn’t expected his taste to be so… gentle.

He didn’t say it, but that moment stuck with him. Her presence curling into the corners of his space, not intruding—just being. Like it had always belonged there.

She helped him figure out an app on his phone once too. Something dumb Tony had insisted everyone use to sync schedules across the team. They’d sat side by side on the couch in the common room—half solving the tech issue, half just… talking. Laughing.

And somewhere in the middle of her showing him how to swipe notifications without accidentally opening seventeen windows, she’d leaned into him. Just a little. Unthinking.

He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t flinched. He just… let her.

And it felt nice.

Safe.

Like falling into something warm and steady, that smelled faintly of aftershave and motor oil. A kind of safety that didn’t come from walls or weapons, but from someone.

There was no big declaration. No flashy move. Just a moment—quiet and utterly unspectacular—when he looked at her across her desk one day and asked softly, “You wanna have dinner with me sometime?”

She blinked, unsure she’d heard him right. “Like… dinner dinner?”

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled beneath the stillness of the room. “Yeah. But not restaurant dinner. Something real. Just you, me, and good food. You don’t have to dress up unless you want to.”

“Do it for yourself,” he said, and his voice had dipped—playful, but still sincere. “Not for me. Though—”his smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, eyes a little darker now, “I’d probably stare either way.”

And now, here she was.

Standing in front of a house he’d texted her the address to, her hands light against the hem of her simple black dress. Something soft. Something that made her feel good. It wasn’t flashy. Wasn’t a mask. Just her. A version of herself she was still learning to like.

She’d fixed her hair loose around her shoulders, makeup just enough to bring out her features—but nothing too precise. She’d adjusted the neckline three times in the reflection of her car window, cursed her reflection once, and still nearly turned back twice.

But she didn't.

The house wasn’t massive. Wasn’t even particularly Bucky, not at first glance. But there was something lived-in about it. Quiet. Cozy. Like maybe it had belonged to someone kind, once, and he’d borrowed it for the night because he didn’t want dinner to feel like a mission.

Still, her instincts hadn’t shut off entirely.

She’d texted her best friend the address with a joking "If I go missing, tell the Avengers Bucky Barnes killed me. JK. (Probably.)"—just in case. Old habits died hard. Trust didn’t come easy.

Now, she stood at the doorstep, breath catching somewhere between her ribs. She reached up and rang the bell.

The chime echoed inside—too loud, too final. Her heart did a strange little jump, not from fear but from something messier. Like her body was trying to brace itself against how much she might want this. Him.

She smoothed her dress again, hand brushing across her stomach. The nerves were stupid—unfounded. She knew she didn’t have to be nervous with him. He wasn’t the type to judge, not about things that mattered. But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

He made her want to melt. And she didn’t know how to armor herself against that.

Didn’t know how to be held without flinching.

Not yet. But maybe… tonight.

The door opened with a soft click.

And there he stood.

Bucky Barnes, in clothes that straddled the line between effort and ease. Dark slacks. Button-up shirt rolled at the sleeves, top buttons open like he couldn’t pretend to be someone else even if he tried. His hair was pulled back, low and neat—but a strand had escaped and brushed his cheek, softening the hard line of his jaw.

He was smiling—until he saw her.

Then he just… stopped, like he hadn’t seen her in years.

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she had to look away.

His expression stilled—unguarded, open—like someone had unplugged his brain. No words. No movement. Just breathless, caught, like she’d just knocked the wind out of him and he didn’t quite remember how to exhale yet.

His gaze moved slowly, almost reverently—from her shoes, up her legs, the curve of her dress, to the exposed line of her collarbone. It paused, just briefly, around her mouth—then snapped up to meet her eyes, like he was afraid he’d lingered too long.

“You’re…” He blinked, shook his head just enough to break the spell. “Stunning.”

She rolled her eyes, but it was a flimsy shield at best. Her lips twitched into a reluctant smile, one she didn’t try to hide as heat rose in her cheeks. She stepped past him, lightly brushing his arm.

“Yeah, yeah, smooth talker,” she muttered, but there was no edge in it. Only breathless warmth.

He laughed low in his throat and closed the door behind her with a quiet click. “Just being honest,” he murmured, and something in the way he said it made her feel like maybe he wasn’t just talking about her dress.

Then the scent hit her.

Warm. Inviting. Delicious.

Garlic. Herbs. Something roasted and slow-cooked with care.

It was the kind of smell that clung to the edges of a home—not just a kitchen. The kind that made your shoulders relax without you realizing. Made you forget everything else for a second.

“Come on,” he said, tilting his head toward the steps. “Dinner’s upstairs.”

She followed, heels tapping softly on the worn wood, one hand brushing the railing as if grounding herself.

“Just so you know,” she said as they reached the second floor, “I gave the address to a friend. In case you planned to, you know… murder me or something.”

He glanced back at her, amused, and she caught a flicker of something warmer behind it. Not offended—not even really teasing—just… touched. Like he understood exactly why she’d done it, and didn’t blame her.

“Smart move,” he said.

There was a beat of silence. Then that little crooked smirk crept in.

“But I’d have to find someone else to fix my tech if I did. You’re too useful to kill.”

She snorted. “Wow, what a romantic sentiment.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” he tossed over his shoulder, and pushed open the rooftop door.

And it was her turn to stop.

The air shifted—cooler, crisper. It curled around her like a soft breath, brushing past the nerves she hadn’t been able to shake and carrying them off like petals in the wind.

The rooftop was surrounded by half-walls, high enough to offer a sense of privacy but low enough to let glimpses of the city sneak through. But she barely noticed any of that.

Because this… this was all she could see.

Strings of warm LEDs hung overhead, like stars caught in a gentle net. They dipped and arced, soft light pooling like smooth gold over a small table for two. Candles flickered along the low ledge—some in jars, others floating in glasses—casting delicate shadows that swayed with the wind.

The table was already set. A bottle of wine waited.

Two plates. Two chairs.

And from the corner, a small Bluetooth speaker played low, calming music—instrumental, familiar, something soothing that settled into her chest like a lullaby.

She blinked, recognition dawning.

“Wait,” she said, glancing at the speaker. “Is that the one I helped you pair?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish now, the confident version of him slipping just slightly. “Yeah. Thought it’d be better than whatever playlist Stark tries to blast every time someone mentions the word ‘date’.”

She looked around again, her eyes wide—overwhelmed in the way that made your throat ache a little. Like something inside her wanted to reach out and hold the moment still.

“Bucky, this is…”

He scratched his jaw, his nerves suddenly so visible she wanted to cup his face and tell him he didn’t need to try so hard.

“Too much?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she whispered. “No, it’s… perfect.”

He smiled, and it was small, unsure—but real. One of those smiles that didn’t quite reach the surface until someone else pulled it out.

“Good. I wanted it to feel right. For you.”

And it did.

Not like some grand, glossy gesture meant to impress.

But like something carved gently out of quiet intention. Thoughtfulness. A space made with his hands—not just for her, but because of her. She hadn’t expected that, but it fit him so well now that she knew what lived under all that armor.

It felt like someone seeing you for who you were and saying, stay anyway.

He pulled out her chair, a little awkwardly, but with both hands—one gloved, one not. That contrast always made her heart stutter a little.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Her fingers brushed his ungloved hand as she sat—warm against warm, skin against skin—and the touch lingered longer than it should’ve.

She met his gaze, something soft and searching behind her eyes, as if she were still trying to convince herself that this wasn’t some dream she’d wake from.

That maybe, this time, she didn’t have to keep running.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Let’s.”

Dinner was amazing.

Not the kind of amazing that called for flashy praise or dramatic sighs—no. This was quieter. Softer. The kind of amazing that lived in the silence between bites, in the small hums of contentment shared without needing words. In the way her eyes kept drifting to him, like she couldn’t quite believe Bucky Barnes had made all this happen. Like something in her chest kept stuttering every time she remembered this was real.

At one point, she teased him—something about bragging over dancing and never following through—and without even thinking, he’d taken her hand. The soft music still whispered from the speaker, and they ended up swaying together, barely more than a slow lean into each other, like gravity had softened just for them. No steps, no rhythm—just the warmth of his chest against hers and the weight of her head resting lightly near his collarbone, like maybe this was the only place in the world where she felt truly still.

Eventually, the dance melted into something quieter.

They’d ended up on the bench near the rooftop’s edge, tucked beneath a soft throw blanket that smelled faintly of fresh laundry. She was curled against him now, shoulder pressed to his side, head leaning on the solid comfort of his arm. He was so warm. So steady. The kind of quiet that didn’t demand anything—just let her be. And somehow, that silence between them felt more intimate than any kiss.

Each of them held a glass of whiskey, the stones clinking gently when she lifted hers.

He caught the sound and gave her a small, crooked smile. “I still can’t believe you got me whiskey stones,” he said, voice low and rough-edged with amusement.

She tilted her head, giving him a smirk. “Told you I expected ice cubes next time. Had to make sure you’d be ready.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm against the cool night. They both took a sip, the amber liquid a soft burn in their throats, grounding them in the now.

A pause settled in—stretching long and quiet beneath the faint twinkle of stars. The city murmured far below, all its noise dimmed by the distance, like they were tucked inside a separate world entirely. A delicate pocket out of time, untouched and safe.

She shifted just slightly, tilting her head to look up at him from beneath her lashes. Her voice came quiet, fragile in its sincerity.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “It was perfect.”

He glanced down, and for a second his smile looked almost bashful, like the compliment hit somewhere deeper than he expected.

“Had help,” he admitted. “Natasha gave me pointers. And I, uh… I watched so many romcoms.”

She laughed into her glass, the sound breathy and light. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. If I see one more Christmas-themed love story with a baking competition in a small town, I swear I’ll lose it.” He grimaced in exaggerated pain. “I think I got diabetes just from the dialogue.”

She giggled, nudging his side with her shoulder. “Worth risking your life for me, huh?”

He didn’t answer with a joke this time. Instead, his smile softened. Quieted.

“Yeah,” he said, without a flicker of doubt. “I’d do anything for you, sweetheart—”

And then he froze. The word still hanging in the air like the tail end of a wish he hadn’t meant to speak aloud. His eyes snapped to hers mid-sentence, wide and uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath his feet.

“Shit. Uh—sorry, is that okay? I didn’t mean—‘sweetheart,’ I mean. Not like… you know... ‘doll’ or anything.”

She blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden stammer, then gave him a look—half amused, half touched. One brow arched just enough to tease, lips tugged into a soft smile.

“Sweetheart’s fine,” she murmured, her voice dipped in warmth. “Actually… I kinda like it.”

And Bucky—God, the relief that washed over him was palpable. His shoulders eased just slightly, like he’d been bracing for rejection and found only kindness waiting.

“Good,” he said, voice soft now. More reverent than relieved. Like it meant something more than she realized.

She turned back, resting her cheek against his shoulder again, and he leaned in, gently tilting his head to touch hers. The stars shimmered faintly above, distant and unbothered, and the whiskey sat cool and heavy in their hands.

She exhaled, slow and deep—only now realizing how long she’d been holding her breath.

“About the ‘doll’ thing…” she said, voice barely louder than the breeze brushing their faces.

He didn’t hesitate. Just turned slightly, watching her with that careful, open steadiness he gave her when she needed space to fall apart.

“Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. Not if it’s hard.”

“I do,” she said. There was no waver in it. Just quiet determination. “If we’re gonna go further, you have to understand.”

He didn’t speak. Just nodded—slow, steady. And then his flesh hand came to rest on her shoulder. The brush of his thumb was gentle, grounding. Not pushing. Just a tether. A silent I’ve got you. A promise she could feel echo in the bones of her chest.

He knew this was going to hurt. And he was ready to hold space for every word of it.

She stared out at the night for a long moment, then looked down at the amber liquid in her glass before exhaling slowly.

“I’ve never talked about it before,” she admitted quietly. “Not to anyone.”

Bucky stayed silent, listening.

The city pulsed far beneath them, distant and quiet. She didn’t look at him when she began, eyes fixed somewhere past the stars—like the past had curled its fingers around her throat, and she had to look away just to breathe.

“Twenty years ago, I was with someone. We were young, in love. Thought we had all the time in the world. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good, in that messy, sweet, figuring-it-out kind of way. We had plans, dreams… For almost five years, it felt like one of those movies you probably tortured yourself with to plan this date.”

He smiled faintly but didn’t interrupt. His presence wrapped around her like quiet armor.

“And then it all just… stopped.”

Her voice caught—just for a second. Just long enough to fracture the air between them.

“There was a car accident. He didn’t make it. I did.”

Bucky's thumb stilled for half a beat, then resumed that slow, soothing motion. Like he was reminding her she was still here. Still breathing. Still held.

“And I had to relearn everything after that. How to be alone. How to breathe when my entire world had been gutted.” She shook her head, lips pressing together like they were holding back a scream. “I was broken. Physically, emotionally. For a while, it felt like I’d died too, just… kept walking.”

The kind of pain that rewrites your bones—that was what clung to her voice. Her eyes. The slump of her shoulders.

A long breath left her lungs, like it had been stored there for years. She swallowed hard, lips twitching like she was deciding how much to say.

“Then, someone stepped in. A mutual friend. We grieved together. He helped me relearn how to laugh. And eventually, I needed to feel something. Alive. Touched. Human. So after six months, we started… sleeping together.”

Her voice was soft, steady now, like she was reciting a memory she’d rehearsed a thousand times in her head. But every word still carried weight, dragging behind it invisible chains.

“It was supposed to be casual. No strings. I just needed to feel alive again. I had just lost the man I thought was the love of my life. I wasn’t ready for anything else. Didn’t know if I ever would be, even. And I thought he got that.”

Her fingers tightened around her glass. The stones inside barely moved, held fast despite the tremble in her grip.

“But he didn’t. He’d been in love with me for years—long before the accident. And I didn’t know he saw that moment as his opening.”

She let that settle between them like ash from a long-dead fire.

“He started telling me he loved me. Every time. Over and over. And I didn’t answer, not at first. But after a while… I felt guilty. I was confused. And tired of hurting. So one day, I told him I loved him too.”

She shifted slightly—not to move away, just to ease the tightness in her chest, like the weight of what she carried had started pressing too hard against her ribs.

“It wasn’t a complete lie. I did love him, in a way. Like a friend. Like someone who helped me through hell. And I thought… maybe that could be enough.”

She stared up at the stars now, her voice flat but fragile. Every word like ice pressed to skin.

“Problem was, my parents were moving to another country. I had been staying with them during my recovery, and now I needed to choose. Either go with them to a place where I barely knew the language, or find a place to stay…”

She closed her eyes for a moment, lashes trembling.

“So I moved in with him.”

Another pause. Longer this time. Colder.

“And that’s when the nightmare began.”

Bucky said nothing. His hand hadn’t left her shoulder. But he was coiled beneath it all—tight and still, the kind of stillness that came before a storm. She could feel him tense, holding back—every instinct in him probably screaming to ask what happened, to hunt someone down, to protect her retroactively—but he just waited. Gave her space. Gave her control.

She took another sip of her whiskey, needing the burn this time. Then she looked down at the stones inside and clenched her teeth.

“He got possessive. Intense. I was still grieving. Still tired. But he didn’t care. He always wanted more. And I just… let it happen. Sometimes he’d coax me into things. Other times, I just… lay there. Looking at the ceiling. Making grocery lists in my head while I waited for it to be over.”

Bucky’s grip tightened, just barely—but he didn’t speak.

Didn’t move. Just let her talk.

Just let her finally let it out.

“It lasted almost five years,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know how to leave. I had no energy. No will to start again. And society doesn’t exactly hand you a roadmap. I was almost thirty. Everyone else was getting married, having kids. And I thought… maybe this was it. Maybe this was what I was supposed to settle for.”

Her voice broke just slightly, then steadied—like a dam with a thin crack, barely holding back the flood.

“I worked. He didn’t. He drove me to the office and picked me up every day. Always there. Always watching. And then his best friend got married. And I just knew he was going to propose. I could feel it.”

She took another sip of whiskey, like it could burn the memory away—but it didn’t. Nothing ever did.

“I couldn’t breathe at the thought of being trapped like that forever. So I packed what I could carry and left. Moved in with a friend until I could stand on my own again.”

Silence fell. Heavy. Absolute.

When she finally looked at him, her eyes shimmered with tears, with the weight of what she’d shared. They weren’t dramatic tears—they were quiet, the kind that slip down your face when you’ve forgotten how not to hold things in.

“So yeah. That word? It takes me back there. To that grim apartment. Lying on my back. Staring at the ceiling. Wondering if this was all life had left for me.”

She let out a breath—shaky but freeing, like she was finally letting the ghosts out with it.

“I’m not there anymore. But it lingers. Like the bitter taste of ash.”

She let the silence drag for a few seconds, then added, quieter than before—like the words might shatter if she said them too loud:

“And it changed how I saw men.”

He still didn’t move. Still let her talk, knowing it wasn’t over. He didn’t dare rush something that had taken her years to hold together.

“Because before things turned bad, he was sweet. Funny. A good friend. The kind of guy you trust without even thinking about it.”

She exhaled a short sigh through her nose—the kind that sounds like regret. Like someone blaming themselves for not seeing the wolf hiding beneath a familiar smile.

“So now… when someone approaches me, I can’t help it. I overanalyze everything. Every word, every look, every shift in tone. Waiting for something to crack.”

She gave a weak smile—not quite bitter, not quite sad. More like it had just worn out.

“I didn’t do that with you. Not at first. Not until you called me... that. Then I froze... lashed out... to hurt you in return as a defense mechanism. Because it hit a place I thought I’d buried.”

A pause. Then, softly—too softly:

“But I know you’re not him. Or at least… I hope to whatever higher power you’re not.”

That last sentence hung in the air like mist—fragile and trembling. The kind of hope that comes from someone who’s been used too many times to ever trust their own instincts again.

Bucky looked down, his jaw tight, expression unreadable. He didn’t speak immediately. Just stared ahead into the night, whiskey untouched now, caught in the weight of everything she’d just given him—everything she'd carried alone for far too long.

And beneath it all, something dark and hot simmered in his chest. A fury he hadn’t felt in a long time. It curled in his gut like fire licking at the edges of his restraint. Every word she’d spoken echoed like a wound reopening inside him—but he kept it there, buried. Contained. Because this wasn’t about him. Not now.

He could scream later. Break something later. She didn’t need rage. She needed someone steady. Someone who would hold her pain without adding to it.

So it took a long moment before he shifted, jaw still clenched, eyes burning with emotion as he set his glass down on the small wooden table in front of them.

Then slowly—carefully—he turned toward her.

His vibranium hand came up, gentle in a way that seemed impossible for something made out of such a hard material, and tilted her chin until their eyes met.

And when he spoke, his voice was low. Roughened by emotion. Almost breaking.

“You’re safe with me. If you want me.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

“I’m not perfect,” he went on, quietly. “Not even close. I still wake up choking on my own nightmares, remembering things I did when I wasn’t even me. I still feel like I’m something broken. A weapon. A relic from a world that should’ve stayed buried.”

His thumb brushed her jaw, soft as a feather—like he was afraid she might vanish if he touched her too hard.

“I don’t feel like I deserve ninety-nine percent of what’s come my way. Including you.”

His voice dropped even lower, like it wasn’t meant for the world to hear.

“But I’d do anything for you. No strings. No expectations. Just whatever you need.”

A long breath. His eyes didn’t leave hers. Like he was anchoring her to this moment, offering her all the steadiness she never got before.

“I wish I could erase all those years. The ones that made you feel like that word could strip you bare. I’ve seen hell too. Lived it. Carried it in my bones.”

A self-deprecating laugh—low and worn, like it had been dragged through the dirt.

“Still do, if I’m being entirely honest.”

His fingers curled slightly at her cheek, as if grounding himself in the present—because if he let go, even for a second, he wasn’t sure where his mind might spiral.

“But you, you made it through your own. You clawed your way out. You’re standing here. Breathing. Laughing. Trusting, even just a little.”

He gave the faintest shake of his head, in awe—but there was grief in his eyes too. For all the years neither of them could get back.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

His voice broke slightly at the edges—too full, too raw.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever admired anyone more.”

Her lips curled into a faint smile—small, almost fragile. Not bright, not giddy. But real. The kind of smile that only comes after surviving something you never thought you’d crawl out of.

There were tears in her eyes, unshed but shimmering in the moonlight. And it wasn’t sadness, not really. It was something softer. Something quieter. A deep exhale after holding in too much for too long.

Because he hadn’t turned away.

He hadn’t doubted her, or minimized her, or changed how he looked at her.

He’d just been there, listening with his whole heart. And when he spoke—it had been like sunlight through broken glass. Gentle. Honest. Whole.

Her throat tightened, and she had to clear it softly to ease it. Even then, it didn’t help much. Her heart was pressing up against her ribs like it wanted to be seen for once.

She set her whiskey glass down beside his on the small table with a quiet thud, then reached out and rested her palm against his cheek. The cool metal of his arm near her skin steadied her somehow—but the warmth of his flesh cheek beneath her fingers made her chest ache in ways she didn’t have a name for.

Her thumb brushed along his cheekbone, and her gaze stayed locked to his—steady despite the emotion shimmering behind it.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I want you.”

His breath hitched—just enough to tell her this meant as much to him as it did to her.

“With the nightmares. With the strings. With everything you are. The good. The bad. The sweet. The bitter.”

Her voice trembled just slightly, like it might break if she tried to hold back anymore.

“All of it.”

And then she leaned in, slowly, her eyes fluttering shut as her forehead brushed his. She felt him lean in too, breath warm against her skin, his own eyes closing as their lips met.

It wasn’t a desperate kiss. It wasn’t hurried, or rough, or hungry.

It was slow. Deep. A quiet promise shared in silence, sealed with warmth and trembling reverence.

He kissed her like she mattered.

And she kissed him like he was home.

They stayed like that for a long time—lips barely parted, foreheads resting together, breath mingling between them. Like two pieces of something shattered long ago, trying to remember how they once fit.

The world didn’t rush them. The rooftop felt like a quiet sanctuary far above the heartbeat of the city. Somewhere soft and safe, tucked away between constellations and the low, distant hum of life.

Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

His arm wrapped around her, pulling her gently into his side. Her head came to rest against his shoulder again, her fingers still loosely curled near his chest, like she was holding onto the moment with everything she had.

Their glasses sat forgotten on the small table beside them, amber liquid catching the faint glow of the rooftop lights—a quiet testament to the things they’d let go of tonight.

The stars shimmered above, uncaring and eternal.

Below, the city breathed—cars passed, lights behind windows turned on or off, music drifted faintly from a nearby building—but up here, time had slowed to a hush.

Just the two of them.

A woman who had learned to live again.

A man who never thought he could be wanted.

Two souls stitched back together by quiet strength and patient hands, sharing warmth beneath the endless sky.

From a distance, the rooftop looked like just one more light among millions, glowing gently in the dark.

But for them, it was their own safe little world.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don’t forget to follow the tag “xpressit writings” to stay tuned for more stories 😁

Want to support me? Go check my ☕ Ko-Fi & 🔴 Red Bubble! 💖🙏

[swampstew]

Captain_CumShot - Chapter 3

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: The Captain is sponsored for his birthday!

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

<new video alert>

Unwrapping/unboxing video

<press play>

“A little birdie whispered into a local sex shop’s ear and that same shop has sent me a sponsorship package for my birthday. I’m touched. Or, I will be. Soon,” Kid’s smirk graced the screen before the camera focus zoomed out to show the chaotic background.

A pile of half wrapped and opened boxes were towering on a pull out table – packing peanuts and tissue paper littered the floor which he kicked away as he stepped beside the display. Grabbing at random, he dangled collars and gags between his thick fingers before repeating the motion in a different box. Cock rings and bullet vibrators made heavy thunking sounds as he let them fall from his hand back to the box.

“There’s honestly so much, I think I’ll try out a few pieces, model a bit and give one or five toys some testing. This is technically also a review video.”

Sinking into steady chair he had pulled out, he sighed as he unbuttoned his black vest and pants.

“Ok, to make it interesting, I’m gonna do random grabs from a giant tub. Hold on.”

The video cut to the next frame, where Kid was unceremoniously dumping products into a 50 gallon tub. A colorful waterfall of silicone, plastic, metals churned around roughly a few times before he was satisfied.

“Let’s get this party started,” he snapped the first item off the top – a collar with a bell. He let out a chuckle, shrugged and buckled it on.

“I’m into pet play – I’m not usually the pet,” he winked at the camera.

Using his metal hand, he plunged it deep into the tub and rummaged for a second, pulling out a set of restraints and clamps.

“Sure, whatever,” he snorted, cuffing his flesh hand but leaving it dangling. He let out a quiet grunt as he clamped his nipples, the fine metal connecting the twin clamps allowed him to adjust the tension.

Letting out a shivered growl, “I can’t put all these on, maybe I’ll save some for future vids.

Dipping another hand into the tub, he hummed in surprise when he saw the sleeve. It was a silicon model of lips, a self-masturbation toy. The mouth was partially opened and it had a set of top row teeth that appeared stiffer to the touch as Kid’s fingers played with the trim.

“Pray I pull some lube next,” he laughed, scooping his metal hand once more. This time, he came away with multiple items. The lubricant, a ball gag, and an anal plug.

“I’d ask if God was there but I’m pretty sure this is the work of darker forces,” he almost cackled, face crinkled in entertainment.

Sticking by his promise, Kid poured the water-based compound in his hands and rubbed his fingers against his palm to warm it up. He smeared the lube generously around the plug, yanked his pants off, and turned so the camera would see his side profile. So his viewers could watch him slightly bend and work the toy in his ass.

“Want proof?” he barked and turned so his backside was exposed, and nestled between his enormous, sculpted glutes was the top of the plug. It had gone in swiftly.

Shrugging, “Surprised I’m a whore? You must be new here.”

Standing, Kid poured the lube into the mouth cock sleeve and rimmed the lips, teeth, and chin with the leftover sleek. Taking the side profile again, he teased his bulbous head with the top row of teeth, sliding it over the ridge of his tip. He slowly dipped into the sleeve without giving much reaction, at least not until he was fully sheathed.

“The inside feels nice, but its kinda firm and strict to move through.”

He powered through, partially closing his eyes as he uncovered himself and started pumping the sleeve up and down his girth, attempting to wear it in some. He found a good rhythm for a while before moving on.

“I dunno, maybe a heated lube or a warm wash to make the material more accommodating. The teeth felt nice though, realistic and kinda cute.”

Kid kissed the messy hole and tongued it lewdly, “How wet or hard did that just make you?” Laughing, he set the toy aside and returned to the tub.

The next gift set was pack of lingerie sets, one in red and the other in a deep wine color.

“Nice. Red’s always been my color,” he smiled, tearing the silk from the package. He let the material run against his skin teasingly before formally putting the thong on, snapping the rear line against the plug base. “Ok last grab, I’m use both hands.”

Behind the tub, Kid dramatically leaned over and plunged both arms elbows deep as he shuffled through items like a drag line wading along the sea’s bottom. With a triumphant grin, he yanked backwards and hauled a cellophane wrapped package.

“No. Fucking. WAY!” he shouted in excitement as he tore the plastic with his teeth. “The Mega Milker Masturbator,” he crowed as he held out the sex doll.

It was only half a doll, just the bubbly butt and with realistic looking skin and inviting holes. Holding it in one hand, he slapped the ass and it jiggled and trembled in place. He firmly gripped the fleshy material and dug his fingertips in. The doll sunk with the lightest amount of pressure. Kid was so pleased he let out a mewl.

“I’ve seen the ads but damn never thought about getting it for myself. Shiiiitt.” He whistled. As he described the specs and features, he slowly pumped his cock and lubed the orifices.

“Let’s see how well—” he paused, then a look came over his face. Stepping away, he came back with the wine colored lingerie and prepped the doll.

Sweeping the table with his arm, he stuck the doll down and moved the camera stand to have a better angle. He picked up the small control that was wired to the bubbly flesh, turning it on and a quiet motor made the doll shake and bounce with impressive speed settings as Kid flipped through them.

“I’ll try and leave a cum shot but this is The Mega Milker model – this might just become a straight cream pie vid. Shit, did you see my cock throb at that? Yeah, gonna give you an extra special dessert, since its my birthday and all.”

Making more adjustments, the edge of a microphone was placed beside the camera – to enhance the output.

“Happy birthday to me,” he tossed his head back as he sunk he erection all the way inside the doll. Gasping in pleasure as he switched the vibrations on and the hairs on his pelvis began to visibly tremble from the force.

“Oh fuck,” he cried before pulling out all the way, slapping the silicone material cheeks and sinking back in. The table legs scraped against the floor as he fucking into the doll. Pussy to ass over and over, his grunts becoming louder as he treated himself.

“Fuuuuccckkk me the vibrations are strong, especially if I—” he sighed as his hands squeezed the bubbly ass around his shaft. “Ohhh godsdamn she’s an ANIMAL!” he roared and laughed.

His thrusting grew harsher and the table squealed in protest as his hips banged against the top.

“Here. I. Cuuuummmm,” he moaned, stilling himself for a moment to let his ejaculation wash over him. Not finished, he pulled out and sheathed himself in the doll’s asshole and rutted against the material, wearing the motor down as he pinned it to the table.

With a low groan and head tilt, Kid pulled out and braced his back on the table, legs spread open for the camera and cock flopped on his lower stomach. His core was still shaking and the plug tightened and loosened as he came down.

Holding the doll above him, his semen and the lube trickled out and sprawled over his stomach as he emptied it out.

“I think this is my new favorite toy. I’m gonna name her,” he tilted forward to kiss the creamy pussy lips. Flicked his tongue between the folds and showed the camera his swallow technique.

“Nah nah, it can’t end like this. This toy, that’s not good enough for her. One cumshot, coming up,” he chortled.

Using his own seed to fluff himself, he stuffed his erect cock into the doll once more. He shifted on the table so his feet were planted on the ground and his torso was partially up. Holding the doll as he would a lover in reverse cowgirl, Kid turned the vibration setting to medium speed and began fucking the doll again.

“I’m taking name suggestions in the comments,” he groaned out, stroking himself with the toy. Switching the speed to the highest setting less than a minute later, Kid’s jaw gaped as his entire body tensed.

“Oh my fuuuuck, fuck f….---” he bit his lip and moaned.” The vibrations are making the plug tremble!”

Kid braced himself against the weary table and used all his force to slam the doll down on his cock until the fake flesh was pushing forcefully against his muscles as he fucked impossibly deep into it. Feet splayed and strained, Kid bit down harder as he held the doll, letting the vibrations bounce his cock so hard that the plug was shaking enough to make him feel shocks of pleasure run up his spine.

Letting out a guttural howl, Kid pulled the doll off and held it in front of him, strings of pearly cum shot out of his tip and splattered against the doll’s abused skin. Beading and rolling down the curves as Kid’s body shook from the pleasure.

Setting it down on the table, Kid gently removed the plug from his ass and inserted it into the doll’s ass.

“I’m a man of my word – I tested the fuck outta that doll and it has all the fucking stars a product can and should receive. How much was this worth?! I gotta step up my toy making skills!”

Kid slapped the fake doll’s ass one last time and droplets of cum flew off the jiggling mass before the video ended.

Leave a vote/kudos/like to tip OR hit bookmark/add to reading list/reblog to subscribe.

Read More on Wattpad | AO3 And check out my new eustass kid blog dedicated to the whoreniest of posts @thecaptainsdeck

[marcuspikegf]

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

pairing: marcus pike x f!scientist! reader (reader works in the labs, chemical and electronics)

part 2 : unfortunate circumstances | word count is 2027 | part one here

rating: teen

warnings: mentions of death on the field, guilt.

reader is a techie working in the labs, marcus keeps asking for gadgets :P that's it really. set after lisbon and jane get together, no mention of pike's arc on the mentalist.

reader is not described but she has hair that's long enough to be tied into a bun (LAB SAFETY!)

this is my first fic!!! so excited to share with everyone :) likes and reblogs are love :3

Three weeks ago

The five days ran past almost all of a sudden, and you had created something. Not just anything, but you’ve – you and your team, of course, working diligently, but this was your project – created the compound. It stuck to cloth and canvas, a little too slippery for skin, but none of that mattered anyway. It was invisible, undetectable by the tests that many fencers use, and it was stable across a range of temperatures.

You sighed into your clipboard, a deep sigh of relief as you finally, finally finished it – no exploded test-tubes, both by the heat or by your clumsiness. It didn’t burn through any surface, wasn’t corrosive – not in the slightest. No trips to the eye-wash station like last time, this was a compound that finally behaved for you. You were proud of this, proud of what you’d created – this little pet project of yours plagued your days and nights, and you were proud of having an outcome. 

Marcus showed up on the last day, smiling a little sheepishly, mumbling something about being swamped with paperwork. To be completely honest, you’d been buried in the charts and chemicals that you didn’t fully register that he hadn’t visited the labs until the day he had to collect the compound. 

“I’ll be taking that.” You remember his voice, wavery, eyes that glanced around the lab – sterilized chaos. You were the only one left in lab 3.2A, the rest of the scientists in their respective rooms, respective experiments…respective lives. 

You squinted up at him, standing in front of the lights, the fluorescent lights were bright against his face, hurting your eyes – his face was shadowed, with sharp lines.

“Are you sure?” You frowned, “It’s still…we still haven’t field tested it.”

“It’s fine,” You remember his smile – his smile that lit up a whole room, the one very smile the agent could smile, and you would do anything for him. 

Perhaps it was dangerous, they should probably lock him up for that. 

“It’ll help the mission, nevertheless.”

His smile was soft, kind – you don’t think he meant for it to strike an arrow in your heart, but it pierced it anyway. 

Your hands started packing the vial of chemical in the case, as was standard procedure, and yet your fingers stilled on the solid plastic case. Harmless – much like the smile he gave you, disarming, soft – making your heart thud embarrassingly, as your fitbit kindly reminded you.

“You’re not going to ask for the final report?” You remember asking, most other agents often asked for a whole report of the gadget they wanted, even for the most ridiculous things. Usually they were done by Dr Lewis, but you were aware that agents usually asked.

His eyes flicked to the case, and then met yours, dark – darker than your own. Trusting, trustworthy…

“I trust you.” He shook his head, holding the case in his hands as you gave it to him. Three words that were so simple to say, yet you don’t know if he meant them. This had taken you hours, hours of your week – barely giving you time to sleep, eat – did he know the weight this took?

His face hardened, and he held the case closer to him, “We need this today,” He had sighed – you remember the desperation in that. “Need it today, in fifteen minutes – thanks doc.”

“Agent.” You called him, before you realised you didn’t mean to, mouth working faster than your brain, “The compound is…” You slowly peeled the gloves off your hand, “It’s new. Be caref– Be safe.”

You don’t know why you said that. Being careful was more important than being safe – and yet.

A pause, he looked at you tilting his head with a soft smile, “Thank you Doctor…”

“Miss.” You called out, reminding him – the doctor title was not yours for a few months longer. The lab was cooler, too bright and too empty, and you sent out a little message to the universe that your dark haired agent (your? When did you start thinking of him as yours?) would be safe.

He wasn’t yours – he was an agent…who asked you to make a compound for him – you. 

You couldn’t help but feel flattered. 

You knew, logically it was because he knew you from detecting forgeries and conducting experiments on the canvas. Science was all about logic, it lived on logic – logic was all important and yet…and yet. And Yet…….

Something bubbled in your chest – a crush – the crush of a century. It was like soda pop in your chest, sweet and fruity and you bite your lip – before sipping some water. 

Hopefully he’d get you the report on the compound soon, stay safe on the mission and tell you how well your compound worked. You’d like to hear a compliment from that low, velvet voice of his.

Present Day

You’re spinning on the stool, bored, idle – when he shows up to your lab again – there’s nothing to do. Your stunt with the damn compound had Lewis worried about you, something you didn’t even realise was physically possible. He’d sent you home for four days to take a “goddamn nap”, and then told you to take it easy the next two weeks. The being awake for 70 hours with four, two hour long naps had really taken a toll on you, evident in the eye bags under your concealer. 

Taking it easy also meant doing routine experiments, forensic analysis that left things shaking in the centrifuge for hours.

The door clicks, and you stop spinning to see him stepping into the lab. You lean backwards, looking at him, the same smile on his face – soft and kind – same manilla folder in his hands. His shoes had a shine that didn’t quite match the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He says, and you shake your head, biting into an apple. 

Okay so food wasn’t allowed, but everything was put away, and you were hungry. “You don’t look like you’ve set something on fire here recently.”

You don’t stand up, but just narrow your eyes – “You’re late.”

“To what?”

You take another bite of the apple, “To the post mission debrief.”

His smile falters, for a moment, before he puts down the folder and puts his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t think you needed a debrief,” he says, softly – “with you not being on the case and all.”

You roll your eyes, “You used my compound on a live mission, agent,” you click your tongue, disapprovingly – “officially or not, it makes me involved. So yeah, you do sort of owe me a report.”

There’s a pause, and then he looks at you, “It worked wonderfully, the tag stayed on the piece and we tracked it easily, two days tops.”

But there’s something he’s not telling, something more – it was a three day operation? Then why is he at your door in three weeks?

“But?”

“But?” Marcus tries again, disarming smile – “But what?”

“There’s always a but, in cases like these.” You give a small smile of your own, new to the FBI you may be, in your short time here, you’ve heard of the…dangers of the job.

His jaw tenses, and he nods after a moment – “Yeah doc, you’re right.” He huffs out a laugh, “The bastards shot one of ours, one of our new agents, right through the gut.”

The silence presses around you like gravity, and you look at the folder he’s brought in. 

“Oh.” You press your lips together – three weeks to grieve. This wasn’t him being unwilling to share, this was a tragedy.

He doesn’t say anything right away, but something surges within you, and you toss the mostly-eaten apple in the bin, with the sharps. Lab safety be damned, this man’s eyes are devastated as he leans back towards one of the workbenches on the other side of your lab. You watch his jaw shift, muscles tightening and then releasing.

“She was fresh out of Quantico.” He chokes out, voice low. Art crimes, shouldn’t be too violent, is what you’d think. “Brilliant. Sharp. Topped a few of her classes.”

You stay quiet, but step towards him, hand ghosting over his own which gripped the folder. Nothing you could say – nothing that could mean anything. You were safe, wrapped in the cold tiles and steel of your lab. The heavy door, the locks – never having to step in front of a gun. 

He lets go of the folder, and pushes it towards you – you flick through it. The report of the compound was in the folder – flawless, stable, trackable and convenient. And yet you will not be able to forget the blot of red on the agent’s white shirt in the photo you wish you didn’t see.

“I’m sorry.” You say, after a second – what else can you say? He’d lived another day, he’d been safe, yet the guilt he carried…

He doesn’t respond, his eyes still on the photo. Like if he stares long enough, he could pull time back to save her.

You don’t pull your hand away, it just hovers over his, just shy of touching. 

“She trusted me” he murmurs, after a second, “and I didn’t protect her.”

There is a pause, and you swear you can smell sparks in the air, but no bunsen burner is on, no circuits are crackling.

He looks down at you, and then the folder, silent before – “You did everything right, I should have come and debriefed you sooner.”

“Agent.” You shake your head, you’re no good at comforting people – not social enough for this. You had been angry, for being left out – but now you realise it was because the team was grieving, you suppose if it wasn’t so rushed, an agent would be alive today. And you had been part of that rush, thrilled with the possibilities of new discoveries, adrenaline in your veins. 

You feel ill, and you don’t know what to do, except offer your hand in support. Your skin is cool, cold from the gloves and the chill of the lab – his hand is larger than yours, warmer, but you hope your touch offers something. Support, camaraderie – yet you don’t hope the crush bleeds out of you, and you pull it away like you’ve been burnt. 

“I should go –” he says, quietly, voice cracking, “paperwork…duties…”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your own throat – “Of, of course…” You stutter and stumble your way through every social interaction, it’s embarrassing, but you want to keep the lull of the gentle banter the two of you have, the ease of conversation. 

“Thanks for being here.” His brown eyes, dark and wide, flicker with something you can’t quite name. An emotion of some sort – something.

“No worries.” You smile, “Be safe Agent.” 

Perhaps now more than ever.

“Uh– come back anytime.” You add, after a moment, carefully – voice steady but your heart is hammering in your ribcage – “If you need anything. I mean – the lab of course. I mean you don’t have to but– well– if you want– to not go through the hassle of– well–” Your cheeks burn as you trail off, words awkwardly dancing in the air between you.

Marcus chuckles, it’s a lovely sound, one you’ll remember for a while – “I get it, someone to actually listen to the agent, one on one?”

His eyes meet yours, which are wide and yet sincere. The pressure of the past deadline falls away – you can’t deny this man anything, unfortunately. 

“Well yes,” You say, breath hitching, and then turning around so you don’t embarrass yourself further, “I’m here if you want anything fixed or modified up quickly. Don’t hesitate to drop by.”

“Noted.” He laughs again. It’s a nice laugh, and you’ll loose your mind if you hear it too much.

“Thank, really – for more than the compound.”

Your heart beats a little faster – “No worries, Agent.”

And if the lab is a little warmer after he leaves than when before he came, you don’t tell anyone – it’s probably all in your head, crush turning you feverish and somewhat delusional.

[beakers-and-telescopes]

Genetically Modified Bacteria Produce Energy From Wastewater

E. Coli is one of the most widely studied bacteria studied in academic research.  Though most people probably associate it with food/water borne illness, most strains of E. Coli are completely harmless.  They even occur naturally within your intestines.  Now, scientists at EPFL have engineered a strain of E. Coli that can generate electricity.

The survival of bacteria depends on redox reactions.  Bacteria use these reactions to interconvert chemicals in order to grow and metabolize.  Since bacteria are an inexhaustible natural resource, many bacterial reactions have been industrially implemented, both for creating or consuming chemical substrates.  For instance, you may have heard about researchers discovering bacteria that can break down and metabolize plastic, the benefits of which are obvious.  Some of these bacterial reactions are anabolic, which means that they need to be provided external energy in order to carry it out, but others are catabolic, which means that the reactions actually create energy.  

Some bacteria, such as Shewanella oneidensis, can create electricity as they metabolize.  This could be useful to a number of green applications, such as bioelectricity generation from organic substrates, reductive extracellular synthesis of valuable products such as nanoparticles and polymers, degradation of pollutants for bioremediation, and bioelectronic sensing.  However, electricity producing bacteria such as Shewanella oneidensis tend to be very specific.  They need strict conditions in order to survive, and they only produce electricity in the presence of certain chemicals.  

The method that Shewanella oneidensis uses to generate electricity is called extracellular electron transfer (EET).  This means that the cell uses a pathway of proteins and iron compounds called hemes to transfer an electron out of the cell.  Bacteria have an inner and outer cell membrane, so this pathway spans both of them, along with the periplasmic space between.  In the past, scientists have tried to engineer hardier bacteria such as E. Coli with this electron-generating ability.  It worked… a little bit.  They were only able to create a partial EET pathway, so the amount of electricity generated was fairly small.

Now, the EPFL researchers have managed to create a full pathway and triple the amount of electricity that E. Coli can produce.  "Instead of putting energy into the system to process organic waste, we are producing electricity while processing organic waste at the same time -- hitting two birds with one stone!" says Boghossian, a professor at EPFL. "We even tested our technology directly on wastewater that we collected from Les Brasseurs, a local brewery in Lausanne. The exotic electric microbes weren't even able to survive, whereas our bioengineered electric bacteria were able to flourish exponentially by feeding off this waste."

This development is still in the early stages, but it could have exciting implications both in wastewater processing and beyond.

"Our work is quite timely, as engineered bioelectric microbes are pushing the boundaries in more and more real-world applications" says Mouhib, the lead author of the manuscript. "We have set a new record compared to the previous state-of-the-art, which relied only on a partial pathway, and compared to the microbe that was used in one of the biggest papers recently published in the field. With all the current research efforts in the field, we are excited about the future of bioelectric bacteria, and can't wait for us and others to push this technology into new scales."

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Organic compound boosts solar cell stretchability without sacrificing power

A solar cell developed by RIKEN physicists can be stretched without greatly affecting its ability to convert light into electricity. It is thus promising for powering the next generation of wearable electronics. Today's smart watches can monitor an impressive array of health metrics, while more-specialist wearable devices are being developed for specific medical applications. But such devices need to be recharged periodically. To eliminate this need, researchers are seeking to develop flexible, wearable solar cells. However, it is vital to ensure that the performance of these solar cells doesn't drop off when they are stretched by body movements during everyday life. "We're focusing on making very thin, flexible devices. But such devices don't have intrinsic stretchability," explains Kenjiro Fukuda of the RIKEN Center for Emergent Matter Science. "Rather, they're similar to plastic wrap used to wrap food—you can maybe stretch them by 1% or 2%, but 10% is impossible since they tear easily."

Read more.

[gray-matter-in-a-teacup]

Cyanide Poison

Let's start by understanding exactly how cyanide kills you. In simple terms, cyanide prevents cells from using oxygen to make energy molecules.

The cyanide ion, CN-, binds to the iron atom in cytochrome C oxidase in the mitochondria of cells. It acts as an irreversible enzyme inhibitor, preventing cytochrome C oxidase from doing its job, which is to transport electrons to oxygen in the electron transport chain of aerobic cellular respiration. Now unable to use oxygen, the mitochondria can't produce the energy carrier adenosine triphosphate (ATP). Tissues that require this form of energy, such as heart, muscle cells, and nerve cells, quickly expend all their energy and start to die. When a large enough number of critical cells die, you expire as well. Death usually results from respiratory or heart failure.

Immediate aymptoms include headaches, nausea and vomiting, dizziness, lack of coordination, and rapid heart rate. Long exposure symptoms include unconsciousness, convulsions, respiratory failure, coma and death.

A person exposed to cyanide may have cherry-red skin from high oxygen levels, or dark blue coloring, from Prussian blue (iron-binding to the cyanide ion). In addition to this, skin and body fluids may give off an almond odor.

The antidotes for cyanide include sodium nitrite, hydroxocobalamin, and sodium thiosulfate.

A high dose of inhaled cyanide is lethal too quickly for any treatment to take effect, but ingested cyanide or lower doses of inhaled cyanide may be countered by administering antidotes that detoxify cyanide or bind to it. For example, hydroxocobalamin, natural vitamin B12, reacts with cyanide to form cyanocobalamin, which leaves the body in urine.

These antidotes are administrated via injection, or IV infusion.

Cyanide is actually a lot more common than you'd think. It's in pesticides, fumigants, plastics, and electroplating, among other things. However, not all cyanide are so poisonous. Sodium cyanide (NaCN), potassium cyanide (KCN), hydrogen cyanide (HCN), and cyanogen chloride (CNCl) are lethal, but thousands of compounds called nitriles contain the cyanide group, yet aren't as toxic. They still aren't terribly good for you, so I wouldn't go around ingesting other cyanide compounds, but they're not quite as dangerous as the lethal kind.

Thank you for reading, have a lovely day :)

[beautyandlifestyleblog86]

Ways to practice eco-friendly living in your home

1. Reduce energy consumption:

- Install energy-efficient appliances and LED light bulbs.

- Turn off lights and unplug electronics when not in use.

- Use natural light as much as possible.

- Set your thermostat to a lower temperature in winter and higher in summer.

- Insulate your home properly to reduce heating and cooling needs.

2. Save water:

- Fix any leaks in faucets and toilets promptly.

- Install low-flow showerheads and faucets.

- Collect rainwater for watering plants.

- Only run the dishwasher and washing machine with full loads.

- Use a broom instead of a hose to clean outdoor spaces.

3. Practice waste reduction:

- Recycle paper, plastic, glass, and metal.

- Compost kitchen scraps and yard waste.

- Opt for reusable products instead of disposable ones (e.g., cloth napkins, rechargeable batteries).

- Avoid single-use plastics, such as plastic bags and water bottles.

- Use a reusable shopping bag.

4. Use eco-friendly cleaning products:

- Choose natural, non-toxic cleaning products or make your own using ingredients like vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.

- Avoid products containing harmful chemicals that can harm the environment and your health.

5. Grow your own food:

- Plant a garden to grow vegetables, fruits, and herbs.

- Use organic and natural fertilizers instead of synthetic ones.

- Compost food scraps to enrich the soil.

6. Opt for sustainable materials:

- Choose furniture made from sustainable materials like bamboo or reclaimed wood.

- Use eco-friendly flooring options like bamboo, cork, or reclaimed hardwood.

- Select paint and other finishes that have low or no volatile organic compounds (VOCs).

7. Reduce plastic waste in the kitchen:

- Use glass or stainless-steel containers for food storage instead of plastic.

- Replace plastic wrap with beeswax wraps or reusable silicone covers.

- Use refillable water bottles and avoid buying bottled water.

8. Conserve energy in the kitchen:

- Use energy-efficient appliances.

- Cook with lids on pots and pans to retain heat and reduce cooking time.

- Opt for smaller appliances like toaster ovens instead of full-sized ovens when possible.

9. Encourage sustainable transportation:

- Use public transportation, walk, or bike whenever possible.

- Carpool or arrange a car-sharing service with neighbors or colleagues.

- Transition to an electric or hybrid vehicle if feasible.

10. Educate and involve your family:

- Teach your family about the importance of eco-friendly practices and involve them in the decision-making process.

- Encourage everyone to adopt sustainable habits and lead by example.

- Discuss environmental issues and brainstorm new ideas for greener living.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Anthropocene:

In a new spin on green electronics, researchers have made a biodegradable electronic circuit board from tree leaves. Such leaf-based electronics, or “leaftronics” as the team from Dresden University of Technology (TU Dresden) has dubbed it, could reduce millions of tons of waste that humans produce every year.

Today, the world produces over 50 million metric tons of electronic waste a year. That number that is slated to double by 2050. And printed circuit boards (PCBs) – the flat boards onto which all the circuit chips, wires and other components of an electronic gadget are soldered–-constitute a big share of this e-waste.

PCBs are typically made of fiberglass or a composite plastic. The material is difficult to recycle and is usually either dumped in landfills or burned to separate the valuable metals for reuse.

As detailed in the journal Science Advances, the team used the veiny, webbed skeleton of leaves to create their biodegradable substrates. This fine branched structure is made of the same lignocellulose compounds that give its toughness. Postdoctoral researcher Rakesh Nair and colleagues started by stripping away the cells of a magnolia leaf to leave behind the white veined skeleton. They dipped the scaffold into ethyl cellulose, a tough biodegradable polymer.

The resulting leaftronics substrate is smooth, flexible, transparent, and can handle high temperatures. In that sense it rivals plastic and glass, Nair says, but is biodegradable. The researchers could use a laser to cut the substrate, print circuits on it, as well as solder electronic components on top.

To degrade the substrate, the researchers placed it in an ultrasonic acid bath to remove the metals and circuit components. The boards began to degrade after about a month in compost.

“Up until now, substrates made of biodegradable polymers could not be used for electronic device or circuit fabrication, since they naturally do not handle elevated temperatures well,” Nair says. There are ways to improve the thermal and mechanical properties of biodegradable polymers. But, he says, they “often result in these polymers either no longer being biodegradable or requiring complex, high carbon-footprint, chemical processes,” he says.

Others have also made degradable PCBs using paper, silk, and mushroom skins. But the new method that relies on dipping a leaf scaffold in a biodegradable polymer is much simpler and should allow researchers to make specific biodegradable substrates with superior properties.

[elyglobaltrading]

What are the Uses of Custom Plastic Manufacturing ?

In this day and age, custom plastic manufacturing has turned into a foundation of current industry, giving custom-made solutions across a wide cluster of areas. From medical services to auto, the versatility of plastics and the accuracy of custom manufacturing methods have made it conceivable to address explicit issues with unmatched productivity. We should probably dig into the main purposes of custom plastic manufacturing and grasp its effect on different businesses.

1. Medical and Healthcare Applications

Custom plastic manufacturing is reforming the medical services industry. Medical gadgets, prosthetics, and parts of symptomatic machines are progressively being produced using custom-planned plastics. A plastic manufacturing company offers a few benefits, including solidness, lightweight properties, and the capacity to be cleaned. Custom plastic parts are utilized in creating needles, IV cylinders, catheters, and, surprisingly, perplexing parts of medical imaging machines. The accuracy presented by custom manufacturing guarantees that these parts fulfill severe medical guidelines, adding to better understanding consideration and results.

2. Automotive Industry

In the automotive sector, custom plastic parts are fundamental for both execution and style. From dashboard parts to many-sided motor parts, custom plastics give arrangements that assist with lessening the general load of vehicles, further developing fuel efficiency. They also offer resistance to corrosion and wear, enhancing the longevity of parts. Custom plastics are used in manufacturing bumpers, interior trims, and even under-the-hood components. Their versatility, akin to the innovations seen with plastic bottle manufacturers, allows for innovative designs and improved safety features, making modern vehicles more reliable and efficient.

3. Consumer Electronics

The consumer electronics industry depends intensely on custom plastic assembling for making solid and smooth items. Cell phones, workstations, and domestic devices frequently consolidate custom plastic parts that are intended to fit definitively and capability perfectly. These parts need to withstand day to day wear and tear while keeping an engaging look. Custom plastics are utilized in housings, buttons, connectors, and different inward parts, offering both underlying respectability and plan adaptability.

4. Packaging Solutions

Custom plastic manufacturing assumes an urgent part in the packaging business. It empowers the formation of packaging arrangements that are custom fitted to secure and protect items during transportation and capacity. Custom plastic packaging can be intended to meet explicit necessities, for example, being lightweight, strong, and impervious to dampness and synthetics. This is especially significant in the food and refreshment industry, where keeping up with the newness and security of items is principal. Custom packaging likewise takes into consideration creative shapes and plans that upgrade brand character and purchaser advance.

5. Industrial and Mechanical Parts

Businesses that require hearty and high-performance components frequently go to custom plastic manufacturing. Plastics can be designed to display properties like high rigidity, protection from outrageous temperatures, and compound strength. This makes them ideal for making parts utilized in apparatus, gear, and different modern applications. Custom plastic pinion wheels, orientation, seals, and lodgings are normally utilized in manufacturing settings, adding to the productivity and dependability of modern tasks.

6. Aerospace and Defense

In aerospace and defense, the demand for lightweight yet solid materials is basic. Custom plastic manufacturing meets this need by providing components that can withstand harsh environments while reducing the overall weight of aircraft and defense equipment. From interior cabin parts to specialized components in satellites and military gear, custom plastics offer the necessary performance characteristics and design flexibility required in these high-stakes applications.

Ely Global Pte. Ltd - Leaders in Custom Plastic Manufacturing

Ely Global Pte. Ltd spends significant time in custom plastic manufacturing, giving fitted solutions to different businesses. With state of the art innovation and a pledge to quality, they convey accurately designed plastic parts that meet explicit client needs, upgrading item execution and productivity across multiple sectors.

[zacharialend]

The Mulch

Look down and you’ll see it; ragged scraps of bills, collection notices creased from being shoved, unopened, into a back pocket. Broken pieces of electronics I couldn’t afford, their black plastic carapaces cracked and spilling wire innards. Candy wrappers and take-out cartons bearing traces of the once edible, bearing formic footprints. Pennies and dimes, the odd ripped five-dollar bill. Post-it notes with half-legible fragments of poems, due dates, names and numbers. Broken-spined paperbacks missing nine-tenths of their covers and eight pages from chapter twelve, receipts and discarded cards, cans, manuals and school assignments… all mashed or trodden together into a more-or-less uniform compound of neglect. The mulch of my inattention, pregnant with conflicts avoided, decisions yet-to-be made, churned periodically by last-minute, panicked fumbling for a vital document, a vape pen, a pill.

It’s with me everywhere I go; maybe not at first, but soon enough it catches up. It is predictable, recognizable, varying only in fine detail. It occupies dark corners – a closet floor, a desk drawer, the bottom of a bag. It grows while I’m not looking, and, if I’m honest, while I am looking, my eyes drifting over and off of it, back to the screen, the ceiling, your face. It moves with me in banker’s boxes with mismatched lids, their slumping cardboard eventually braced against a closet wall. It gets beaten back, sometimes, when it threatens to spill into your life, but never fully; there’s always a corner, a reservoir of chaos waiting to reseed the newly fallow spaces.

If you want to know me, know what it’s like in here behind these dark circles, look down and you’ll see it. If you want to know what you’re getting into, dig into the mulch.

[therealadothamilton]

I hope this helps somebody.

Overall, rodents comprise over 2,000 species of warm-blooded nuisance animals including rats, mice, and squirrels. ..

rats may carry diseases on their own through saliva, urine, and feces.

Bay leaf – The chemical compound of bay leaves can be lethal to rats.

Instant mashed potatoes – If rats eat dehydrated mashed potatoes, the flakes will expand in their stomachs until they die of bloating

Snap Traps/Spring Traps

The best known types of traps, these currently come in two varieties. The traditional trap (usually made of wood and steel wire) contains a spring-loaded bar that snaps down when a rat removes bait from a trigger. A newer, plastic version bears a set of sharp jaws snap shut when triggered.

Glue Traps

A type of live trap, glue traps consist of a plastic or wooden platform coated with adhesive that is laid out (and sometimes baited) in places where rats are known to travel, such as basements, pantries, and attics, in order to entice rats to get stuck on them. These tend not to be true live traps, as it is often impossible to remove a rat once it is trapped, and trapped rats will eventually die of dehydration. This also means that unlike most other traps, glue traps can only be used once.

Electric/Electronic Traps

These traps work like cages, but when the bait entices rats to enter, these traps detect the rat and send a lethal electric shock into the cage

Poisons

The bait and poison available at stores will usually be in pellet form and can also be bought in bulk in order to refill trays or bait stations.

Wherever you decide to place poisons, rodents will feed off of them and go elsewhere to die.

Bromethalin-Based Poisons

These fast-acting neurotoxins need, more than most poisons, to be kept out of the way of children and pets, but they are especially effective.

[sarda-metals-alloys]

Unlocking the Power of Silicon Manganese: Sarda Metals

Silicon manganese is a critical alloy used in various industries, each benefiting from its unique properties and versatility. Sarda Metals, a renowned producer and leading metals manufacturer in India, has been at the forefront of supplying high-quality silicon manganese for countless applications. In this article, we explore the diverse areas where silicon manganese makes a significant impact.

Electronics: Powering the Digital World

Silicon manganese is a key ingredient in the world of electronics. Its exceptional conductivity and durability make it an ideal component for semiconductors, transistors, and integrated circuits. These tiny yet powerful devices are the backbone of our digital world, driving everything from smartphones to computers.

Solar Panels: Harnessing Clean Energy

The renewable energy sector relies on silicon manganese for the production of solar panels. These panels use silicon as a semiconductor to convert sunlight into electricity efficiently. As the world shifts toward sustainable energy sources, silicon manganese plays a pivotal role in supporting this transition.

Construction: Building for the Future

In the construction industry, silicon manganese is used in high-strength materials such as silicones and sealants. These materials provide durability and weather resistance, making them invaluable for sealing structures against the elements.

Medical Devices: Precision and Biocompatibility

Silicon manganese-derived silicones find applications in the medical field. They are used in the production of biocompatible medical implants, such as breast implants and catheters, due to their non-reactive nature and flexibility.

Automotive Industry: Driving Innovation

The automotive sector benefits from silicon manganese in various components, including sensors, engine control units (ECUs), and tire pressure monitoring systems (TPMS). These components enhance vehicle performance, safety, and efficiency.

Aerospace: Soaring to New Heights

Silicon manganese-based materials are essential in aerospace applications, thanks to their lightweight and high-temperature resistance. They contribute to the construction of aircraft components and spacecraft, ensuring safe and efficient travel beyond our atmosphere.

Kitchenware: Enhancing Culinary Experiences

In the kitchen, silicon manganese-derived silicones are used to create non-stick cookware, baking molds, and kitchen utensils. Their heat resistance and non-reactive properties make cooking a breeze.

Glass Industry: A Clear Choice

Silicon dioxide (silica), derived from silicon, is a fundamental component in the glass manufacturing process. It enhances the transparency, strength, and heat resistance of glass products.

Chemical Industry: Catalyzing Innovation

Silicon compounds play a pivotal role in various chemical processes, acting as catalysts that drive the production of a wide array of products, ranging from plastics to pharmaceuticals.

But let's delve deeper into the world of silicon manganese, expertly manufactured by the industry leader, Sarda Metals, a renowned metals manufacturer in India. It's more than just an alloy; it stands as a catalyst for progress and innovation across a multitude of sectors. As we forge ahead in the realms of technology and environmental sustainability, silicon manganese emerges as a critical player in shaping our future.

Silicon manganese isn't merely an alloy—it's the very foundation upon which countless innovations are built. Join us in recognizing its profound significance as we strive to construct a brighter and more sustainable future together.

🏠 Address: 50-96-4/1, 2nd & 3rd Floor, Sri Gowri Nilayam, Seethammadhara NE, Visakhapatnam, Andhra Pradesh, 530013 - India.

📞 Phone: 9493549632

📧 Email: info@smal.co.in

[archaeologistic]

I think part of the point of the OP was also quality. In particular, the suitcase/wardrobe trunk example—that folding modern suitcase? Garbage in a few years. It’s made mostly of plastics and plastic fiber cloths that will tear or crack and not be repaired. It will be discarded and likely sent to a landfill where it will break down and leech toxic chemicals into the environment along with all the other plastic trash we’ve dumped. Meanwhile, more are being mass produced with the intention of endlessly repeating the consumeristic cycle of buy-discard-repeat.

The old trunk shown by OP? It was likely used for years, repaired as necessary, and has solid enough construction to have lasted to modern day in very good shape. It may weigh a lot, but it was not made to be easily discarded either. It was made to be used and loved and passed on through generations of people. And if it finally was discarded? The wood would rot and the metal would rust and both would decompose and return their natural compounds to the ground, forming new deposits of minerals (iron, copper, lead, etc) and fertile soil. No lab-made plastics. Nothing harmful to local wildlife or plants or the climate. And after it’s use was done, maybe the new generation would commission a local craftsman to make a new, equally beautiful piece to replace it.

On the surface level it may not appear that we’ve lost technology, but as someone studying archaeology and material culture of the past, I can tell you there is plenty we’ve lost. It’s not a new phenomenon to cheapen products for the sake of profit. That goes back to the Gilded Age and the rise of industrial manufacturing, if not earlier. But we’re in a new sort of gilded age. Electronics designed with higher prices and shortening lifespans; fast fashion pieces that fall apart after one or two washes; furniture that chips just from assembly and won’t survive a move between houses, let alone persist over multiple generations’ lifetimes.

We no longer make things to last through time. People who still value craftsmanship and quality rarely have the money to support the people who make those high quality items. In turn, people who make those items can’t afford to survive on income from exclusively selling their work. As time goes on, more and more skills and techniques are lost. From woodworking to metalworking and casting to ink making and rug weaving. Across every culture there are trades at risk and techniques already lost to time because they were passed from craftsman to craftsman until the craft was drowned out by cheaper, mass-manufactured products meant to be disposed of in a fraction of the time.

[gis2080]

Assembly Trays Market Size, Share, Demand, Growth and Global Industry Analysis 2034

Assembly Trays Market is projected to grow from $2.5 billion in 2024 to $4.3 billion by 2034, expanding at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of approximately 5.6%. These trays play a vital role in organizing, storing, and transporting components during manufacturing and assembly operations across industries such as electronics, automotive, aerospace, and healthcare. With the rising demand for precision, efficiency, and sustainability in industrial processes, assembly trays have become indispensable in supporting streamlined workflows and protecting sensitive parts.

This market has witnessed strong momentum due to the increased adoption of automation and the rise of lean manufacturing practices. The trays not only enhance operational efficiency but also reduce handling time and minimize errors in production lines. Additionally, companies are increasingly seeking eco-friendly, reusable, and customizable tray solutions that align with sustainability targets while maintaining durability and precision.

Click to Request a Sample of this Report for Additional Market Insights: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/request-sample/?id=GIS22407

Market Dynamics

The dynamics driving the assembly trays market revolve around technological advancement, evolving material science, and shifting industry needs. A major driver is the growing reliance on automation in sectors like electronics and automotive, where trays enable compatibility with robotic systems and high-speed assembly lines. As industries push for faster turnaround times and greater accuracy, the demand for trays that are ESD-safe, cleanroom compliant, or custom-engineered is growing rapidly.

Plastic continues to dominate the market with a 45% share, valued for its lightweight, moldability, and cost-effectiveness. Metal and composite materials follow, preferred for applications requiring extra strength and temperature resistance. The surge in electric vehicle production, medical device innovation, and semiconductor manufacturing further amplifies tray demand.

However, the market is not without challenges. Volatile raw material prices, especially for polymers and metals, are pressuring margins. Regulatory compliance with safety and environmental standards also adds to operational complexity. Moreover, supply chain disruptions and increasing demand for product customization require manufacturers to remain flexible and innovative to stay competitive.

Key Players Analysis

The competitive landscape of the assembly trays market is shaped by a mix of global giants and emerging specialists. Prominent players such as 3M, Bosch, and Stanley Black & Decker hold significant market shares, benefiting from their strong industrial expertise and continuous investment in product innovation. Bosch’s emphasis on automation integration and 3M’s commitment to sustainable and recyclable tray solutions have set benchmarks for the industry.

Other key companies like UFP Technologies, Nelipak Healthcare Packaging, and Prent Corporation specialize in custom-engineered trays tailored to niche markets such as healthcare and precision electronics. Emerging players like Tray Tech Innovations, Eco Tray Manufacturing, and Smart Tray Solutions are gaining traction by focusing on sustainability, smart tracking capabilities, and adaptive designs for modern manufacturing environments.

Regional Analysis

Asia Pacific leads the global assembly trays market, fueled by industrial expansion in China, India, and Southeast Asia. These countries are experiencing a manufacturing boom in electronics, automotive, and consumer goods, creating massive demand for efficient and reliable tray systems. The region’s economic growth and emphasis on production scalability contribute significantly to the market’s upward trajectory.

North America follows closely, with the United States at the forefront. Its advanced manufacturing infrastructure and adoption of Industry 4.0 practices have driven demand for smart, reusable, and automation-compatible trays. The strong presence of leading tray manufacturers also supports regional growth.

Europe remains a vital player, particularly Germany and France, where precision engineering and sustainable manufacturing practices dominate. European regulations on material recyclability and worker safety drive innovation in environmentally friendly and ergonomic tray solutions.

Latin America and the Middle East & Africa show steady growth potential. Countries like Brazil and Mexico are investing in automotive and electronics production, while the UAE and South Africa are gradually developing their industrial sectors, increasing the need for high-performance assembly trays.

Recent News & Developments

The market has seen several transformative trends in recent years. Automation and digitalization are leading the way, with trays now being integrated with RFID and barcode tracking to improve inventory visibility and streamline assembly operations. Additionally, many manufacturers are shifting towards biodegradable and recyclable materials in response to growing environmental awareness.

Strategic partnerships are also shaping the landscape. For instance, tray manufacturers are collaborating with robotics and automation companies to co-develop solutions optimized for smart factories. This includes innovations in anti-static materials, heat resistance, and form-fitting compartments that support delicate and irregularly shaped components.

Cost efficiency remains a critical factor. With unit prices ranging from $5 to $50 depending on complexity, many companies are investing in thermoforming and injection molding technologies to scale up production without compromising quality.

Browse Full Report : https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/assembly-trays-market/

Scope of the Report

This report offers a comprehensive analysis of the global Assembly Trays Market, covering segmentation by type, product, material, application, technology, and functionality. It provides both qualitative and quantitative insights into current market trends, challenges, and future projections. The report assesses the competitive landscape and profiles major players, highlighting strategies like product innovation, mergers, and geographic expansion.

It also examines regulatory trends, regional market dynamics, and technological advancements shaping the industry. The research supports stakeholders in making informed decisions, identifying growth opportunities, and adapting to evolving customer demands. As industries continue to seek leaner, greener, and smarter solutions, the assembly trays market is well-positioned to deliver value across a broad spectrum of applications.

Discover Additional Market Insights from Global Insight Services:

Cold Forming and Cold Heading Market : https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/cold-forming-and-cold-heading-market/

Aviation Crew Management System Market : https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/aviation-crew-management-system-market/

Electron Beam Machining Market : https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/electron-beam-machining-market/

Ballast Tampers Market : https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/ballast-tampers-market/

Spring Energized Seals Market :https://www.globalinsightservices.com/reports/spring-energized-seals-market/

About Us:

Global Insight Services (GIS) is a leading multi-industry market research firm headquartered in Delaware, US. We are committed to providing our clients with highest quality data, analysis, and tools to meet all their market research needs. With GIS, you can be assured of the quality of the deliverables, robust & transparent research methodology, and superior service.

Contact Us:

Global Insight Services LLC 16192, Coastal Highway, Lewes DE 19958 E-mail: info@globalinsightservices.com Phone: +1–833–761–1700 Website: https://www.globalinsightservices.com/

[qocsuing]

Plastic Tubes: Engineering Simplicity in a Complex World

Plastic tubes are simple in form yet remarkably diverse in function, serving as essential components across industries such as medical technology, construction, packaging, electronics, and consumer goods. They are flexible, durable, lightweight, and cost-effective—qualities that have made them indispensable in both industrial and everyday applications. This article explores their manufacturing process, functionality, advantages, and the challenges they present in terms of sustainability.Get more news about plastic tube,you can vist our website!

Composition and Manufacturing Plastic tubes are commonly made from a wide array of polymers, including polyethylene (PE), polyvinyl chloride (PVC), polypropylene (PP), and polytetrafluoroethylene (PTFE), among others. The choice of material depends on the application. For instance, medical-grade tubing requires high chemical resistance and biocompatibility, often achieved using PTFE or silicone-based compounds.

Manufacturing methods include extrusion—where molten plastic is shaped by being forced through a die to form a continuous tube—and injection molding, which is more typical for rigid or specially shaped tubes. Additives like UV stabilizers, colorants, and plasticizers can be included to enhance performance under specific conditions.

Everyday Applications Plastic tubes are present in nearly every part of modern life. In households, they serve as dispensers for toothpaste, ointments, and cosmetics. In gardening and plumbing, flexible tubes are used to carry water, chemicals, or air. Food and beverage industries rely on sanitary-grade plastic tubing to handle liquids safely.

In the medical sector, plastic tubes take on highly specialized roles—used in intravenous therapy, catheterization, respiratory devices, and surgical instruments. The lightweight and sterilizable nature of plastics makes them ideal for such sensitive uses.

Industrial and Technological Use In industries such as automotive manufacturing, construction, and electronics, plastic tubes function as conduits for wiring, fluid transmission, insulation, or structural elements. Cable management, fuel lines, and HVAC systems all depend on the reliable performance of engineered tubing.

Additionally, in laboratories and chemical processing plants, tubing made from chemically inert plastics is crucial to transport corrosive or temperature-sensitive substances safely.

Advantages and Challenges The primary advantages of plastic tubes lie in their adaptability, corrosion resistance, and low production cost. They outperform metal counterparts in weight and chemical tolerance, making them ideal for complex or mobile systems. However, their environmental impact remains a pressing concern.

Many plastic tubes are not readily recyclable due to their composite materials or contamination after use, especially in medical and industrial contexts. Single-use plastic tubes generate considerable waste, contributing to pollution and landfill buildup.

Toward a Sustainable Future Efforts to make plastic tubing more eco-friendly are underway. Bioplastics derived from renewable resources, such as PLA (polylactic acid), are gaining attention, though they currently have limitations in durability and heat resistance. Advances in mechanical and chemical recycling technologies also promise a more circular lifecycle for plastic tubing materials.

Manufacturers are increasingly exploring ways to design products for disassembly, reuse, or safe degradation. In parallel, regulatory frameworks in various regions are pushing industries to reduce dependency on virgin plastics and increase transparency in material sourcing.