#decoder circuit

[lambda-core]

red jet looks different every time i draw him ngl but i really wanted the "game model jet + sark" influences to be a clear with this one

[vinrat]

I swear to god medical imaging is the closest thing to magic I've ever studied.

"We peered into the deep mysteries of the universe and discovered a bunch of arbitrary rules that are sometimes really useful! So now we're gonna use a bunch of crystals, invisible energy's, ancient glowing rocks of doom, invisible forces, golden sygils, and the speed of causality itself to peer through your skin and learn how to heal you."

[jnthn2rris]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--analog--multiplexer-demultiplexer/dg406dn-t1-e3-vishay-3148293

What is an encoder and a decoder, digital data converter, communication network

Single 16 Channel 5 to 20 V 50 Ω CMOS Analog Multiplexer - PLCC-28

[xdpcba]

Trust XDPCBA.cn for efficient, reliable, and innovative PCBA circuit board services. Experience the assurance of working with a dedicated partner committed to excellence in electronic manufacturing

[diamonddaze01]

Error 404: Feelings not Found

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader | wc: 4.0k genre: fluff, electrical engineering student wonwoo (pulled out my textbooks for this) warnings: loserboy core a/n: for all my fellow left-brained girlies who have never really understood feelings. sometimes, all you have to do is feel // now playing: when he sees me // thank u kae @ylangelegy for the song suggestion and betaing ily muah!

summary: Wonwoo has always been comfortable in the world of logic.  But his crush on you? A catastrophic anomaly in his otherwise perfectly functioning system.

Wonwoo has always been comfortable in the world of logic. Numbers are predictable, formulas are consistent, and circuits behave exactly as they’re supposed to. But his crush on you? A catastrophic anomaly in his otherwise perfectly functioning system.

It’s not like he planned for this. (Wonwoo plans for everything.) He planned how to tackle his midterms, down to how much coffee he’d need for optimal brain function. He planned his study schedule for finals week with a level of precision that could rival NASA’s launch timelines. But he didn’t plan for you—didn’t account for how you’d waltz into his life, smiling like it was easy, and throw every variable he’d ever known into disarray.

Take last week, for instance. You’d borrowed his notes in Signals class after the professor’s lecture turned into a chaotic sprint of equations, leaving most of the class scrambling to catch up. Wonwoo’s notes, as always, were pristine—straight lines, perfect margins, not a single smudge or scribble.

“These are amazing,” you’d said, eyes scanning the page before handing them back. “Your designs are so clean.”

Simple, right? A harmless comment. But by the time he’s back at his desk, staring at his notebook, the words replay in his mind like an unsolved equation. Somewhere between “clean” and the way you smiled, his brain spins out of control, dragging him into an entirely unnecessary analysis.

By the time the clock strikes midnight, he’s halfway through a list of possible interpretations for the word clean.

Did you mean clean as in technically proficient?

Or was it a general observation, like, “Oh, clean lines, nice work”?

Was it just a filler compliment?

Wait, what if you didn’t care about the project at all and were just being polite?

…Or were you flirting?

By the end of the day, the list has ballooned to 27 points, each item meticulously numbered and annotated with follow-up questions. He’s considered:

The tone of your voice (friendly, teasing, or something else entirely?).

The duration of eye contact (exactly 2.3 seconds—long enough to register intent?).

The statistical likelihood of romantic interest based on casual interactions in a shared academic setting.

He even creates a small flowchart titled “Compliment Probability Breakdown” in the margins, complete with arrows leading to various outcomes: “Casual comment” → “Friendly disposition” → “No further analysis needed.” Except, of course, he does further analyze. He always further analyzes.

Mingyu finds him later that night, still hunched over the notebook with a pencil tucked behind his ear. “Wonwoo, what are you doing? It’s a compliment, man. Just take it.”

Wonwoo glares up at him, a little defensive. “Compliments can have layers.”

“Compliments are not onions, dude. Sometimes people just say stuff because they mean it.” Mingyu grabs the notebook, flipping through pages of scribbled notes and diagrams. “Wait, are you seriously tracking eye contact now?”

Wonwoo snatches it back with a huff. “It’s for clarity.”

“Clarity,” Mingyu repeats, shaking his head. “Okay, listen: not everything needs a breakdown. Maybe she just thinks you’re good at this stuff.”

The suggestion should feel reassuring, but it only creates more questions. Do you think he’s good at this stuff? Wonwoo’s chest tightens as the overanalysis starts up again, his brain racing to decode every minor interaction between you two.

And for the first time in his life, he wonders if there’s a problem even logic can’t solve.

The first time Wonwoo realizes he might have a crush on you is during a Circuits lab. The task is simple: build an EKG circuit. The professor’s voice echoes in the background, laying out the steps, but Wonwoo doesn’t need instructions—he’s already ahead, mentally piecing together the circuit in his mind like a jigsaw puzzle.

You, him, and Soonyoung are grouped together. Soonyoung, true to form, spends more time spinning a pen between his fingers and accidentally dropping it than actually contributing. “What’s a diode again?” he whispers, squinting at the diagram. Wonwoo doesn’t bother answering. He’s focused on soldering the components, the familiar rhythm of it calming.

Then you lean closer. Close enough that he catches the faint scent of your shampoo—something floral, light, completely unexpected.

“Wow, you’re fast,” you say as Wonwoo expertly attaches a capacitor to the circuit. There’s a trace of genuine admiration in your voice, enough to make him falter. “I’d probably still be looking for the resistor.”

The comment shouldn’t faze him. It’s just a compliment, nothing extraordinary. He glances at you, briefly, before immediately looking back at the board. It feels safer not to meet your eyes for too long. “Uh, it’s color-coded,” he manages, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “You just… follow the stripes.”

You laugh softly, the sound threading its way into his chest like a loose wire connecting where it shouldn’t. “Yeah, but it’s not that simple for everyone,” you say, brushing a stray hair out of your face as you turn your attention to the circuit.

The way you say it makes his chest feel strangely tight—like you’ve taken something as mundane as resistors and turned it into a compliment, like you’re saying he’s not simple either. It’s a ridiculous thought, and yet it roots itself in his mind.

Wonwoo’s hand, soldering iron poised mid-air, doesn’t move. His brain, which usually fires on all cylinders, freezes like an overloaded processor. The soldering iron hovers dangerously close to the board, but all he can focus on is the way your hair catches the light, the way your fingers curl around the resistor as you inspect it. Wonwoo doesn’t mean to notice, but suddenly he can’t stop noticing—the way the fluorescent light reflects in your eyes, the faint trace of soap on your hands when you adjust a wire, the warmth radiating from your voice when you hum quietly in thought.

It’s not until Soonyoung gently clears his throat that he realizes his brain has completely stopped functioning. His usually razor-sharp focus is now cluttered with incoherent static. 

“Wonwoo?” you ask, leaning back slightly to meet his eyes. There’s a hint of concern in your voice. “You good?”

He panics. “Uh. 100 ohms.”

Your brow furrows. “What?”

“Uh—100 ohms,” he repeats, gesturing vaguely at the resistor in your hand like it explains anything. “That’s… its resistance.”

There’s a beat of silence, thick and awkward. You blink at him, clearly trying to piece together whatever he’s just said. Then you burst out laughing, shaking your head as you turn back to the project. “Okay, resistor boy. Whatever you say.”

The sound of your laughter leaves his chest feeling tight, like someone’s replaced his heart with a capacitor about to blow.

Soonyoung, who’s been watching the exchange with far too much interest, smirks. He leans over the table, stage-whispering, “What was that?”

“What was what?” Wonwoo mutters, focusing on the soldering again, as if he can undo the entire exchange by sheer force of will.

“You’re usually all cool and robotic,” Soonyoung teases, wagging his pen like it’s some kind of magic wand. “That was… weird.”

Wonwoo shakes his head quickly, but the heat creeping up the back of his neck says otherwise. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, the words barely audible over the hum of the soldering iron. “I think I glitched.”

“Uh, yeah. Glitched hard.” Soonyoung grins, nudging him in the ribs. “Man, this is going to be fun to watch.”

Wonwoo groans, his ears burning. The circuit in front of him makes perfect sense—the resistors, the capacitors, the impedance of the op-amp—but nothing about you fits into a neat schematic. And for the first time in his life, that terrifies him.

Now, weeks later, Wonwoo is in his room, utterly consumed by the mess on his desk. It’s an anomaly in itself—Wonwoo is meticulous, his workspace usually a shrine to organization (he always says: clean desk, clean mind). But now, papers are scattered like fallen leaves, covered in scribbles, equations, and bullet points that grow increasingly frantic as they spread across the desk.

The centerpiece of this chaos? A flowchart spanning two pages, taped together like some sort of grand engineering blueprint. It’s titled, in block letters: “Signs She Might Like Me Back.”

Wonwoo taps his pen against the paper, staring at the branching lines as if sheer focus might make them reveal the answer he’s been agonizing over. Beneath the title are subcategories labeled “Physical Cues,” “Verbal Indicators,” and, his personal favorite, “Ambiguous Behavior That Could Go Either Way.”

Under “Physical Cues,” he’s written:

Smiles when she sees me.

Leans closer during conversation (but what if it’s because of background noise?).

Touches my arm (happened once, inconclusive).

Under “Verbal Indicators,” there’s a bullet that reads:

Complimented my handwriting. Significance unclear.

He’s in the middle of adding a new branch—“Initiates conversation (specific or casual?)”—when the door bursts open without warning.

“Wonwoo, what the hell are you doing? It’s 3 AM.” Mingyu strides in, holding a bowl of instant ramen and a look of mild concern. His gaze lands on the desk, and his expression shifts to outright amusement. “Wait… what is this?”

Wonwoo freezes like he’s been caught committing a federal crime. He instinctively moves to cover the flowchart with both arms, but it’s far too late. Mingyu steps closer, craning his neck to read the edges of the paper that Wonwoo couldn’t shield in time.

“‘Compliments: Genuine or Polite’?” Mingyu reads aloud, his voice rising in barely-contained glee. He sets the ramen down and leans over the desk. “‘Smiles frequently—friendly or flirty?’ Wonwoo…” He looks at his friend, wide-eyed and grinning. “Are you seriously trying to analyze feelings right now?”

“No,” Wonwoo lies, far too quickly. “It’s… theoretical.”

Mingyu snorts, dropping into the chair beside him and spinning it halfway around before leaning forward. “Theoretical? Dude, this looks like the final project for your psych elective. Come on, what’s the problem? Spill.”

Wonwoo hesitates, gripping his pen like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality. But the weight of weeks of overthinking finally tips the scale, and he lets out a long sigh, setting the pen down.

“I just don’t… get it,” he admits, gesturing vaguely to the papers. “Feelings are so inconsistent. They don’t follow any rules. There’s no formula to predict intent, no way to be certain what someone means. How do people know if someone’s interested in them? How do you know when to… I don’t know, do something about it?”

Mingyu leans back in the chair, arms crossed as he considers the question. “Easy,” he says after a beat. “You stop thinking about it so much and just ask them out.”

Wonwoo blinks at him, utterly horrified. “That’s… illogical. That’s guessing. That’s like building a circuit without testing the components first. What if the whole thing explodes?”

“Yeah, well, feelings aren’t supposed to be logical,” Mingyu says with a shrug, grabbing the bowl of ramen and slurping a mouthful. He claps Wonwoo on the shoulder with his free hand, grinning around his chopsticks. “Face it, man. You’re screwed.”

Wonwoo stares at him, expression blank but mind racing at a million miles an hour. “There’s got to be a better way than just… guessing.”

“Good luck finding it,” Mingyu says, standing up and taking his ramen with him. “But if you don’t make a move soon, she might just think you’re not interested. So, you know… keep that in mind.”

Wonwoo sits in silence long after Mingyu leaves, staring down at his flowchart. His pen hovers over the paper, but he doesn’t write anything. For once, the calculations feel insufficient.

And maybe, just maybe, Mingyu’s right.

The thing is, you keep throwing off his system. Wonwoo’s world is built on rules, a place where inputs lead to predictable outputs. But you? You’re the glitch in his perfectly functioning program, an anomaly he can’t solve no matter how many late nights he spends overanalyzing.

The way you laugh at his deadpan jokes—it’s too loud for the library but not loud enough to draw attention, just enough to pull his gaze toward you. It doesn’t matter that you’ve already heard that joke during last week’s study session; you laugh anyway, and the sound is unreasonably addictive. The way you ask for help even when he knows you don’t need it. Like last week, when you slid your notebook toward him with a confused pout.

“Can you help me with this? I don’t get it.”

He barely glanced at the equation. “You’re way too smart to not understand this.”

And then you laughed, a soft, warm sound that curled around his chest and lodged itself there. That laugh earned a solid 15 points on his internal ‘Possible Signs of Interest’ checklist, though he later downgraded it to 10 because he couldn’t account for external variables like your naturally kind disposition.

It’s infuriating. Why do feelings refuse to conform to logic?

He tries analyzing every interaction, mapping out probabilities and outcomes in the quiet corners of his mind. He’s drawn tables, diagrams, even flowcharts in an attempt to parse out the truth.

Was the way you leaned closer during study group last week a sign of interest? Or were you just trying to hear him better? Did the way you laughed at his dumb, offhand comment in class mean something? Or do you just laugh like that at everything?

Take today, for example: You brushed past him on your way to class, smiling and throwing over your shoulder, “See you at study group later!” That brief moment derailed his entire afternoon.

Did you linger when your arm touched his? Or was that just an accidental graze? Was your smile just friendly, or something more?

And why does he care so much?

Wonwoo spends the rest of the day distracted, his mind looping through possibilities like an endless algorithm stuck in an infinite while-loop. What’s worse is that he doesn’t even know what he wants the answer to be. A part of him craves certainty, some definitive sign that he should act on these feelings. But another part—a quieter, more cautious part—fears the idea of ruining the tenuous balance between you two.

Because what if he’s wrong? What if you’re just like this with everyone? What if he makes his move and you pull away, looking at him like he’s a problem to be solved instead of someone you enjoy spending time with?

By the time the study session rolls around, he’s teetering on the edge of complete disarray, not that he’d ever let it show.

Or so he thinks.

Because two hours in, he miscalculates an integral. An integral. Wonwoo never miscalculates anything.

You catch it immediately, tilting your head as you lean closer. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, the soft rustle of your notebook as you shift it toward him.

“Are you okay, Wonwoo? You’re usually so precise,” you say, your voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

His ears burn. “Just tired,” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze as he corrects the mistake. He doesn’t add that it’s your proximity short-circuiting his brain, or that the way your hair falls over your shoulder is infinitely more distracting than any differential equation.

Your smirk lingers in his periphery, and he wonders if you can tell just how fast his heart is beating. He wonders if you feel the same strange, unexplainable pull that he does.

The study session stretches late into the evening. Most of the group has already packed up, and you’re the last one still typing away at your laptop when Wonwoo’s caffeine miscalculation finally catches up to him.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep—just the faint hum of your keyboard and the warm glow of the desk lamp. When he stirs slightly, he feels a ghosting touch against his face.

Your fingers are gentle as you slide his glasses off, careful not to wake him. He feels the cool metal leave his skin, followed by the soft brush of your thumb near the mark his nose pad left.

His heart lurches, and he has to force himself to keep his breathing even. A dozen thoughts rush through his mind all at once:

Is she doing this because she likes me?No, she’s just being considerate.But she’s touching my face.What does that mean? What does it mean if she’s touching my face?

He clenches his fists against the urge to open his eyes, to meet your gaze and demand answers. Instead, he forces himself to focus on the moment—the sound of your quiet breaths, the occasional click of your mouse, and the warmth that radiates from your side of the table.

For a fleeting moment, he thinks: Maybe emotions don’t always need to make sense. Maybe, just this once, he can let go of the need to understand everything.

Maybe, just this once, he can let himself feel.

Wonwoo doesn’t know how it’s come to this. One moment, he was perfectly content at home, considering a quiet evening spent debugging code or reorganizing his bookshelves. The next, Mingyu and Soonyoung were in his room, looming like conspirators with matching grins.

“You have to come,” Mingyu had said, tugging at the sleeves of Wonwoo’s sweatshirt. “It’s social interaction, it’s good for you. You’ll thank us later.”

“No, I won’t,” Wonwoo deadpanned, crossing his arms.

Soonyoung leaned in, holding up his phone with a smug look. “You sure about that? Because I might have accidentally taken a picture of that Venn diagram you made the other day.”

Wonwoo froze, his blood running cold. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” Soonyoung’s grin widened. “And I bet someone would find it very… interesting.”

That was how he found himself lacing up his sneakers with a grim expression, muttering under his breath about betrayal and bad friends.

Now, standing awkwardly at the edge of a crowded house party, Wonwoo is reminded why he hates these things. The music is too loud, the lights are too dim, and there are far too many people moving unpredictably around him. He’s already considering texting Mingyu and Soonyoung to demand their exact location when he spots you.

You’re standing by the makeshift bar, laughing at something someone said, your smile so effortless it lights up the room in a way the cheap string lights never could. Wonwoo doesn’t mean to stare, but his feet move before his brain can catch up. He tells himself it’s because you’re familiar, a safe point of contact in an otherwise chaotic environment.

But deep down, he knows better.

“Wonwoo?” you call out, your eyes lighting up as you notice him approaching from the edge of the room.

He halts mid-step, caught somewhere between relief and apprehension, and forces out a casual, “Hey.” His hands disappear into his pockets, his fingers fidgeting with loose threads, unsure what else to do.

You grin, leaning one elbow against the counter, your drink swaying lazily in your other hand. “You don’t seem like the party type,” you tease, tilting your head to study him.

“I was... coerced,” he replies flatly, and the corner of your mouth quirks up as you laugh.

“Oh, let me guess.” You raise an eyebrow, pretending to think hard. “Mingyu? No, no—Soonyoung. Or both? Definitely both.”

“They’re... relentless,” Wonwoo admits, almost sounding offended, but there’s a faint twitch of a smile at the edges of his lips.

“Wow. Dragged out of your hobbit hole just to stand here and glare at people? They must’ve bribed you with something really good.”

He looks away, almost sheepishly. “Something like that.”

Your laugh rings out again, easy and unforced, and Wonwoo feels a little lighter despite himself. “Poor you,” you say, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Do you need a drink to cope? A strong one?”

He snorts. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Well, you made it out of the house, so I guess that’s something,” you say, stepping closer. “Though you do look like you’re two minutes away from bolting.”

He shrugs, his gaze flickering between you and the crowd. “It’s not my scene.”

“And yet, here you are,” you point out, your tone playful. “Is it for Mingyu? Or Soonyoung? Or…” You pause, a slow smile spreading across your face. “...someone else?”

His brain short-circuits at your words, but he does his best to play it cool. “I think they just wanted to ruin my night.”

“Hmm,” you hum, unconvinced but amused. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. It’s always fun seeing you outside your natural habitat. Like spotting a rare Pokémon.”

“Am I supposed to thank you for that?” he asks dryly, and you grin.

The two of you ease into conversation, the party blurring into background noise as you chat. Wonwoo listens intently, hanging onto your every word as if your voice alone could drown out the overwhelming din around him. He’s not even sure how much time has passed when you lean a little closer, the shift in your tone catching his attention.

“So,” you say, a conspiratorial grin tugging at your lips. “Do you have anyone you’re crushing on?”

He freezes. The words settle in his chest like a sudden, unsteady weight.

Does he? Of course, he does—you. But his brain stalls, caught between the truth and the absolute terror of saying it out loud. Instead of answering, he scrambles for something—anything—to say.

“I’m going to make an app,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can stop them.

You blink, tilting your head. “An app?”

He nods, trying to steady his voice even though his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “Feelings confuse me. So I’m taking all the data I’ve collected and making an app to tell if someone’s interested. Algorithms are easier for me to understand, anyway.”

Your expression flickers between confusion and amusement before a slow smirk spreads across your face. “What data, Wonwoo?” you ask, setting your drink down and stepping closer.

His throat goes dry. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Because if you’ve been collecting data,” you continue, your voice teasing as you close the distance between you, “I’d love to hear about it. What have you noticed?”

His pulse skyrockets as you reach for his hands, gently guiding them to rest on your waist. The warmth of your touch sends his mind spiraling, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. Your hands slide behind his neck, your fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there, and he feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff.

“I don’t know how much more obvious I could have been,” you murmur, your teasing tone softening into something warmer, more certain.

His mind blanks. He should say something—anything—but all he can do is stare at you, completely undone.

Then you lean in, your lips brushing against his, tentative at first, as if waiting for him to meet you halfway. And when he does—hesitant but earnest—you smile into the kiss, your fingers tangling gently in his hair, and it feels like the world stops spinning.

For Wonwoo, everything finally clicks.

It’s not a Venn diagram or a flowchart, and it doesn’t follow any logical formula, but it makes sense in a way he can’t explain. The way your hands fit behind his neck, the warmth of your body against his, the soft sigh that escapes you when his hands tighten on your waist—it’s all the proof he needs.

When you pull back, his head is spinning, but you’re still close, your breath mingling with his.

“So,” you say, your tone light but your eyes impossibly warm. “Do you still need that app?”

He chuckles softly, the sound unsteady but genuine. “No,” he admits, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “I think I’ve got all the data I need.”

You laugh, and the sound is music to his ears. For the first time in weeks—months, even—Wonwoo feels like he can stop overthinking, stop analyzing every little detail. He doesn’t need an algorithm, a chart, or a diagram to tell him what’s in front of him. Because some things don’t need to be solved.

Some things just need to be felt.

[luv4arinn]

I Just Wanna Feel

Author’s Note: So—sorry for not posting in weeks, but I had a massive writer’s block, and well… I’m back! I was heavily inspired by THAT Robbie Williams song. Yes, I watched his biopic. Yes, I cried. Yes, I recommend it. And… surprise?! There will be a whole chronology with the others, all themed around Robbie’s songs! Yayy <3!! Consider it a gift? from me for taking so long 🥺. Love you all.

Pairing: Bayverse!Donnie x female reader

Tags: Intense fluff, nerd having an emotional crisis, extreme overthinking, unexpected kisses, Donatello’s mental breakdown, romantic panic, “oh no I messed up” but in HD, happy ending.

The sound of the keyboard echoed through the room—a rhythmic, steady tapping that blended with the low hum of the monitors. The bluish glow from the screens cast irregular shadows across his face, reflecting off the lenses of his glasses with every line of code appearing and disappearing on the monitor.

Donatello was there, as always.

The work was easy. Thinking was easy.

It was like a well-structured algorithm: receive information, process it, execute a plan of action. The world had rules, patterns, probabilities—formulas that predicted outcomes with near-absolute precision. No matter how chaotic a situation seemed, there was always a logical solution waiting to be uncovered.

Computers don’t lie.

Data has no biases, no whims. It doesn’t suffer irrational fluctuations. It doesn’t beat faster without reason. It doesn’t have to remind itself to breathe.

But then…

There’s you.

And everything falls apart.

Not immediately. Not like a fatal error shutting down the system in the blink of an eye. It’s more subtle. Like an unexpected variable in an equation that had, until now, been perfect. Something that doesn’t fit into the rigid structure of his world—but something he can’t ignore either.

He thinks about it often. About how his brain operates like a well-calibrated machine, each thought clicking into the next like the teeth of a moving gear. Logic is his native language. Reason, his compass.

And yet, when it comes to you, all that logic becomes blurred.

The gears grind.

The code becomes erratic.

The equation fills with unknowns.

Because when you step into his space, when your voice disrupts the steady rhythm of his keyboard, when you lean over his desk without a second thought for the scattered circuits and switch off his monitor without warning…

His first instinct is to think. Analyze. Quantify.

What does this mean?

Why does his heart react this way?

Why does his skin register the shift in temperature more intensely when you’re near?

But thinking doesn’t give him answers.

Feeling does.

And that is terrifying.

Because feeling isn’t predictable. Feeling has no neatly arranged lines of code, no graphs to chart behavioral patterns, no equations with exact solutions.

Emotions, in themselves, are a chaotic system.

And you…

You are the anomaly he still doesn’t know how to decode.

Nights shouldn’t feel this short when spent alone in front of a screen. And yet, when his mind drifts to the memory of a laugh, the fleeting image of a glance, the echo of an accidental touch… time dissolves in a way not even quantum physics could explain.

When he feels the weight of his name on your tongue. Like an access key to a system he never thought anyone would try to hack.

And he watches you from the corner of his eye as you lean closer, and in that instant, every variable in his mind shifts. Every equation rewrites itself.

A shiver runs down his shell.

Feeling.

He knows because his chest tightens with an undefined pressure, a sensation he can’t attribute to any specific physiological variable. His heart rate isn’t elevated from exertion. He’s not under attack. He’s not in danger.

So why does his body react as if he is?

There’s no equation to explain this.

Because if there were, he would have solved it long ago. He would have identified the problem, broken it down into its components, eliminated any errors. But every time he thinks he’s close to an answer, another unknown appears, shifting all previous solutions out of place.

Music filters through his headphones, slow and melancholic.

“I just wanna feel, real love…”

A shiver runs down his spine.

His body reacts to the sound before his mind does. It’s absurd. It’s ridiculous. There is no logical reason why a progression of chords and a set of words arranged in a certain way should have this effect on him.

And yet, here he is.

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, motionless—caught between the instinct to keep working and the strange, undeniable realization that… he can’t.

Not because he’s tired.

Not because he lacks information.

Not because there’s a problem that requires more processing.

But because, for the first time in a long time, the data isn’t the most important thing.

The screen flickers with information he should be absorbing, but he isn’t. His glasses reflect numbers and graphs that would normally hold his full attention, but his gaze is empty, unfocused.

The room remains unchanged—draped in shadows, illuminated only by the bluish glow of his monitors and the faint blinking of LED lights from his equipment.

The mission had been difficult. The margin of error had been higher than he liked to admit.

It wasn’t often that his calculations failed.

But sometimes, calculations weren’t enough.

Sometimes, reality simply… refused to adhere to logic.

“Feel the home that I live in…”

His jaw tightens.

He doesn’t know how that song ended up on his playlist.

But he has a reasonable theory.

One that involves Mikey, his blatant disregard for personal privacy, and his insistent need to “help him connect with his emotions.”

(Sure. Right.)

And yet…

The lyrics hit him harder than he’d like to admit.

It’s not the melody itself. It’s not the chords or the rhythm. It’s the way the words seem to slip through the cracks in his mind, seeping into the spaces that logic has never quite managed to seal shut.

“I just wanna feel, real love…”

Donnie exhales slowly, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard, motionless.

He thinks about the battle.

The mistakes.

The risks they took.

Numbers flash through his mind like a simulation running in reverse—impact probability, the margin of error in his calculations, the reaction speed needed to avoid damage. Fractions of a second where the difference between victory and absolute disaster depended on decisions made under pressure.

But more than anything—he thinks about you.

He thinks about the way, at the end of the fight, you rushed to check if he was okay.

About how, without even thinking, your hands—warm, alive—ran along his arm, searching for injuries he had already identified and dismissed milliseconds before with his visor.

He could have told you it wasn’t necessary.

That he was unharmed.

That he had concrete data to prove it.

But he didn’t.

Because logic dictates that worry should be extinguished by facts.

But feeling…

Feeling dictates that your touch lingers, even after you’ve gone.

That the sensation of your skin against his stays beyond his capacity for reasoning.

That the light pressure of your fingers on his forearm still burns in his memory, like an unsolved equation looping endlessly in his mind.

“Come and hold my hand…”

Donnie closes his eyes.

He could turn the song off.

He could erase the anomaly from his system.

He could rewrite the equation, adjust the variables, find a way to rationalize what he feels.

But… he doesn’t want to.

Because for the first time in his life, the result of a problem doesn’t matter as much as the unknown.

He doesn’t just want to think.

He wants to feel.

He wants to understand why being with you feels like the only constant that truly matters.

And then—you arrive.

Without warning, without fanfare, without the slightest idea that the world inside Donatello’s mind is teetering on the edge of a collapse even he can’t explain.

The lab door slides open smoothly—barely a whisper against the silence, thick with static electricity and the faint murmur of music in his headphones.

He notices everything.

The shift in air pressure.

The sound of your footsteps, softened against the floor.

The faint scent of shampoo and fabric laced with the chill of the night.

The way the temperature in the room rises by just a fraction of a degree when you step inside.

But he doesn’t turn around immediately.

Because he doesn’t know what to do with the anomaly that you are in his equation.

He doesn’t know where to place you within the rigid parameters of his logical, structured world.

His operating system slows, his brain—so used to processing information with the precision of a surgeon—stalls in an endless loop, searching for a resolution that refuses to exist.

And then—your voice.

“Donnie?”

Soft. Not because you’re hesitant, but because you know him. Because somehow—through a method he can’t quantify—you can read the tension in his shoulders. You can see the way his fingers have stopped typing, even though the screen is still waiting for input.

He closes his eyes for just a moment, as if that alone might be enough to reboot him, to restore the control that feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.

He knows he should say something.

He knows he should act normal.

But his normal means efficiency, speed, precise answers delivered at the exact right moment.

And right now, every command in his mind is failing.

You watch him with quiet curiosity, tilting just slightly toward him—just enough for the air between you to feel heavier, more tangible.

“Everything okay?” you ask, voice soft in that way that completely disarms him. Then your gaze sharpens slightly, scanning him with quiet scrutiny. “Are you hurt?”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looks at you.

His mind runs an automatic analysis of your expression—eyes slightly narrowed, lips barely pressed together, the faintest crease in your right brow, as if you’re already calculating the probability that he’s lying.

Logic dictates that he should reassure you with data. That he should tell you his visor has already run a full diagnostic scan and that his physical condition is optimal. That there is no rational reason for concern.

But then his gaze drops.

And he sees his own hand, still resting on the desk—still tense.

And for the first time in a long time, he chooses to do something without overthinking it.

He looks at you again.

His throat feels dry. Without realizing it, he wets his lips—a quick flick of his tongue over skin cracked from hours without proper hydration.

Then, in a voice so quiet it barely sounds like his own, he asks:

“Can I… hold your hand?”

It’s not the kind of question anyone would expect from him.

And he knows it.

Because it doesn’t fit his usual patterns. It’s not something that makes sense in any logical context.

But right now, logic is utterly useless to him.

Your lashes flutter in subtle surprise, as if the words take a few extra seconds to fully register.

“What?”

His instincts scream at him to backtrack, to rephrase, to find a way to explain what even he doesn’t fully understand.

But he doesn’t.

“I want to…” He inhales, trying to reorganize his thoughts. “I mean, just—”

He shuts his eyes for a second, frustration flickering across his face. He has never felt this clumsy with words before.

When he opens them again, you’re still there. You haven’t moved. You haven’t looked away.

And somehow, that alone gives him the courage he’s lacking.

“I just… want to feel it.”

The truth escapes him so easily, so quietly, that it almost embarrasses him.

Your expression shifts.

It’s not amusement.

It’s not rejection.

It’s something softer. More intimate.

And without questioning it—without hesitation or unnecessary words—you let your hand slide over his.

Not hurriedly.

Not hesitantly.

Just with the quiet certainty of someone who understands exactly what he’s asking for.

And when your fingers intertwine with his, Donnie feels every equation, every algorithm, every carefully structured rule in his mind… simply dissolve.

As if they had never really mattered in the first place.

“Well?” you ask, your voice carrying a faint attempt at lightness.

Donnie knows you’re trying to sound casual, that you’re masking your uncertainty behind a relaxed tone. But he notices.

He notices the delicate dusting of pink on your cheeks, the almost imperceptible tremor in your lower lip, the way your thumb brushes against the back of his hand—like you’re adjusting to the contact just as much as he is.

And something inside him… softens.

His lips curve, at first unconsciously—a smile, small and barely formed. Then, from deep in his chest, a quiet laugh escapes, unbidden and genuine, as weightless as the air after a storm.

It’s not mockery. It’s not disbelief.

It’s something purer. Something real.

—Nothing, —he murmurs, his thumb moving awkwardly against your skin— Just… this is nice.

The confession catches him off guard.

Because he hadn’t planned it.

Because he hadn’t filtered it through his logic before speaking.

Because it simply happened.

And then, you look at each other.

Maybe for too long.

Maybe just long enough for the world around you to blur into a distant murmur, as if nothing else exists except the space you occupy together.

He finds himself mesmerized by you.

Fascinated.

But not in the way he is fascinated by a new equation, by an unexpected pattern in the data, by the perfect symmetry of a well-designed structure.

This is different.

This is raw.

This is visceral.

This is feeling.

His other hand, trembling in a way he doesn’t understand, lifts with a slowness that borders on reverence.

And when his fingers brush against your cheek, the touch is so light it feels like an experiment in itself.

He feels.

He feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the way it molds so effortlessly to his touch, the way your body leans ever so slightly toward him—responding to an equation he hasn’t yet written but, for the first time, doesn’t feel the need to solve.

He feels the erratic pounding of his own heart, too fast, too unsteady, as if it has forgotten its natural rhythm.

He feels the heat gathering in his chest, expanding outward like a shockwave, defying all logical explanation.

And then, he hears you sigh.

Small.

Soft.

Almost imperceptible.

But he feels it.

He feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, the subtle vibration of your exhale in the nonexistent space between you.

Feels,

feels,

feels.

As if every one of his senses—once so meticulously calibrated to process information—has now been repurposed for a single objective:

You.

Your warmth seeping into his skin.

Your quiet, rhythmic breathing.

The barely-there weight of your gaze resting on him.

The familiar scent of you, imprinting itself onto some hidden corner of his mind he never thought necessary.

Just you.

Only you.

Nothing else exists.

Nothing else matters.

And then—without thinking, without calculating, without rationalizing it into exhaustion like he always does—

he kisses you.

It’s brief. Just a brush of lips.

A moment suspended between doubt and need, between impulse and fear.

A single heartbeat contained in a single point of contact.

And then—

He hears you gasp.

His entire body locks up. Every muscle goes rigid with a tension so sharp it’s almost painful.

His brain—so efficient, so precise, so relentless in its ability to analyze every variable in a situation—enters a total shutdown.

He stares at you, eyes wide, pupils blown.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

He misread everything.

What the hell was he thinking?

You don’t see him that way.

Why would you?

Why would you ever?

Shame crashes over him like an unstoppable wave. His stomach twists, his skin burns, his heart clenches into an invisible fist that threatens to crush it from the inside out.

He pulls back, his hands loosening, his voice catching in his throat.

—Oh, God, I didn’t mean to— —he stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of his own panic. His thoughts are a mess of unsolved equations, of probabilities collapsing into a singularity of pure dread— I just… I thought it was a good moment, I—

—Yes.

Your voice cuts through his spiral.

His brain short-circuits.

—It was.

…

What?

His breath halts.

The air thickens, pressing in from all sides, as if the entire universe has stopped—right here, right now, in these words, in this reality he never accounted for.

And then—

You close the distance.

You are the one to bring your lips back to his.

And his mind—his brilliant, overanalyzing mind—

for the first time in his life—goes completely silent.

And he simply—feels.

[tapeworm-loser]

Yeah, there's a storm on the loose, sirens in my head

Wrapped up in silence, all circuits are dead

Cannot decode, my whole life spins into a frenzy

[commodorez]

Cactus fascinates me, does it run on code similar to an existing instruction set or is it completely original on that front?

What can you do with it? What's it's storage?

Both the Cactus (the original wooden prototype from years ago) and the new PCB Cactus(es) are essentially derived from a minimal 6502 computer design by Grant Searle for their core logic. Here's what that would look like on a breadboard:

There isn't much to it, it's 32K of RAM, 16K of ROM containing Ohio Scientific's version of Microsoft BASIC, a 6850 ACIA for serial interaction, some logic gates, and of course a 6502 microprocessor (NMOS or CMOS, doesn't matter which). You hook it into a terminal and away you go.

Grant's design in turn can be best described as a distilled, modernized version of the OSI Challenger series of computers. Here's an OSI-400 and a Challenger 4P respectively:

The left one is a replica of the 400 circa 1976, also called the Superboard. It was affordable, endlessly reconfigurable and hackable, but ultimately very limited in capabilities. No BASIC, minimal monitor ROM you talk to over serial, but you could connect it to a bus to augment its features and turn it into a more powerful computer.

Whereas the OSI C4P on the right from about 1979 has more RAM, a video card, keyboard, BASIC built in, serial interface, cassette tape storage, and that's just the standard configuration. There was more room to expand and augment it to your needs inside the chassis (alot changed in 3 years for home computer users).

Grant's minimal 6502 design running OSI BASIC is a good starter project for hobbyists. I learned about the 6502's memory map decoding from his design. I modified and implemented his design on a separate cards that could connect to a larger backplane.

Here are the serial, ROM, RAM, and CPU cards respectively:

Each one is 100% custom, containing many modifications and fixes as I developed the design. However, that's only half of the computer.

I really wanted a 6502 machine with a front panel. People told me "nobody did that", or couldn't think of examples from the 1970s but that seemed really strange to me. Especially since I had evidence to the contrary in the form of the OSI-300:

This one I saw at VCF West back in 2018 illustrates just how limited of a design it is. 128 bytes of RAM, no ROM, no serial -- just you, the CPU, and toggle switches and LEDs to learn the CPU. I was inspired the first time I saw one in 2015 at VCF East, which is probably when this whole project got set in motion.

Later that year I bought a kit for a miniature replica OSI-300 made by Christopher Bachman, and learned really quickly how limited the design philosophy for this particular front panel was. It was a major pain in the ass to use (to be clear, that's by OSI's choice, not any fault of Christopher in his implementation)

So... I designed my own. Took awhile, but that's the core of what the Cactus is: my attempt at experiencing the 1970s homebrew scene by building the computer I would have wanted at the time. Over half of the logic in the Cactus is just to run the front panel's state machine, so you can examine and modify the contents of memory without bothering the 6502. I added in all of the things I liked from more advanced front panels I had encountered, and designed it to my liking.

Here's the original front panel, accompanying logic, and backplane connected to the modern single board computer (SBC) version of the machine:

And here's the new Cactus SBC working with the new front panel PCB, which combines the logic, physical switch mountings, and cabling harnesses into a single printed circuit board.

So, what can you do with it? Pretty much the same things I do already with other contemporary 1970s computers: play around in BASIC, fire up the occasional game, and tinker with it.

I've got no permanent storage designed for the Cactus as yet, it's been one of those "eventually" things. The good news is that a variety of software can be ported to the hardware without too much trouble for an experienced hobbyist. A friend of mine wrote a game called ZNEK in 6502 assembly which runs from a terminal:

Right now, you have to either toggle in machine programs from the front panel from scratch, burn a custom ROM, or connect it to a serial terminal to gain access to its more advanced features:

Here's it booted into OSI BASIC, but I have also added in a modern descendant of Steve Wozniak's WOZMON software for when I need to do lower level debugging.

I've also got a video card now, based on the OSI-440. I have yet to implement a keyboard, or modify BASIC to use the video board instead of the serial connection. Even if I did, screen resolution is pretty limited at 24x24 characters on screen at once. Still, I'm working on that...

Anyway, I hope that answers your question. Check the tags below to see the whole process stretching back to 2017 if you're curious to learn more of the project's history. I'm also happy to answer any more questions you might have about the project.

[therapeutic007]

✨ When Criticism Feels Like a Knife to the Heart: An ADHD RSD Workbook ✨

If you: • Melt down over tiny feedback (even when it’s kindly given) • Dread checking emails/texts in case someone’s upset with you • Remember rejections from 10 years ago like they happened yesterday ...you might be struggling with Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD)—the emotional earthquake many with ADHD know too well.

This isn’t "being too sensitive"—it’s your nervous system sounding a false alarm that rejection = survival threat.

The RSD & ADHD Workbook helps you:

✔ Spot RSD’s lies ("They hate me" → "I’m interpreting tone") ✔ Short-circuit shame spirals with emergency coping scripts ✔ Respond (not react) to perceived criticism ✔ Rebuild self-trust after social mishaps

📖 Inside you’ll get: → Body-based exercises to calm the RSD adrenaline crash → "Feedback Decoder" prompts to reality-check perceived slights → RSD-proof communication hacks (for work/relationships)

You deserve to feel safe in your own mind—even when others disapprove.

🔗 Find it here

[drnikolatesla]

🚢 Tesla's Remote Control Patent: The Birth of Modern Automation 🚢

On November 8, 1898, Nikola Tesla was granted U.S. Patent No. 613,809 for his "Method of and Apparatus for Controlling Mechanism of Moving Vessels or Vehicles." This invention wasn’t just the first practical remote control—it marked a revolutionary step toward the development of wireless communication and automation.

🔧 How Tesla’s System Worked 🔧

Tesla's system worked much like how we control drones today—only over a century ago!

1️⃣ Transmitter: Tesla used radio waves to send wireless commands to the vessel.

2️⃣ Receiver: The vessel had a sensitive device that decoded the radio signals into specific actions, such as steering or powering motors.

3️⃣ Control Circuits: Tesla designed a series of circuits that ensured each command executed reliably, preventing errors and interference.

⚙️ Key Features ⚙️

💡 Command Logic: Tesla's circuits functioned like a primitive decision-making system, linking specific signals to specific actions—a conceptual precursor to today’s logic gates.

🔋 Multi-Channel Design: Each circuit operated on a unique frequency, akin to modern multi-device networks, ensuring precise control without interference.

🛡️ Safety First: Tesla implemented mechanisms to prevent accidental or incorrect activations, prioritizing reliability.

🌍 Applications Then and Now 🌍

Tesla saw the potential for:

✔️ Military Use: Guiding unmanned ships or torpedoes.

✔️ Disaster Response: Sending unmanned vessels into dangerous areas.

✔️ Remote Automation: Introducing wireless precision to various industries.

Today, Tesla's vision echoes in:

🚁 Drones: Controlled remotely through radio signals.

🤖 Robots: Autonomous machines performing tasks with precision.

🏠 Smart Homes: Devices responding to commands over Wi-Fi.

🏭 Automated Factories: Machines operating through programmable controls Tesla helped inspire.

🌟 Why Tesla’s Invention Matters 🌟

Tesla didn’t just create a remote control—he pioneered a framework for wireless systems that continues to shape modern technology. What are your thoughts on Tesla's advancement in wireless technology?

[localguy2]

General analysis of DR Zane, S1 and S2 included (spoilers):

Man... Is this one a doozy...

Okay okay so, what I wanna touch on first and foremost is Zane's humanity, or his perception of his own humanity, because uhhh...

Folks the implications are NOT GOOD in the SLIGHTEST in regards to his Mental State and thinking process.

Something we've seen repeatedly throughout DR is that the merged realms and it's people in general don't view Zane as human, they don't see him as a person but more so a machine, or equipment.

We saw this first in S1E13 'Wyldly Inappropriate' we get introduced to "Zane Day", a day dedicated entirely to Celebrating Zane and who he is, and it sounds really sweet and it is- but...

It's celebrated in the worst possible way ever.

Zane is treated like a robot, like striaght up robot, when people speaks its all in an attempt to mimic a robotic voice, and sometimes people end up saying stuff that's really offensive to him (Zane look alike contest).

Heck, even other Nindroids are in on it.

This sorta paints a sad picture in regards to Zane, because it implies that the city (or maybe entirety of the Merged Realms) see Zane as just a robot ninja with cool powers, nothing more, nothing less.

And we see this a second time in S2E7 'Fugitives from Madness' and S2E8 'Secrets of the Wyldness', in which Zane and Cole fight off The Administration, and yet again we see how Zane's Humanity is absolutely disregard, heck it's even violated in this scenario, they don't even acknowledge him as a person, The Administration straight up calls him "Equipment".

Equipment that's to be destroyed when taken, and that's despite Zane proving himself to be an actual being multiple times to the agents.

So, what am I getting at here?

Well, in simple terms, The World of Ninjago Post-Merge doesn't really acknowledge Zane's humanity or his personhood, of course, the average everyday civilian to a lot less extent then say, an entire organisation, but the wholehearted confidence the Agents of the Administration say that Zane is an object calls into question whether it's their actual personal beliefs, or protocols set by the Administratior.

And... You know what's the absolute worst part?

Zane doesn't even TRY to defend himself.

Striaght up, he neither tries to explain what Nindroids are to people during Zane day, and just goes along with the flow.

And when fighting The Administration, he even OFFERS himself to them in exchange to let Cole and Bonzel get away, granted you could say it was part of his plan to buy him and the others more time, but his continued insistence on trying to find a compromise with The Agents sorta hammers home his whole hearted belief that he's:

A) Expendable.

B) Not a person, but a machine/"equipment".

Now, this might be over analysis on my end, but I would also like to point out the scene where he plugs himself into The Administration mech and tries to decode/hack their netrowk and systems.

In that scene, his mech gets stabbed in the back with a massive sword from one of The Agents, and instead of immediately getting the fuck out, he stays Plugged in and KEEPS trying to hack their stuff, all in the hope that he can finish it in time before he gets fried alive.

Unfortunately, that doesn't happen, his circuits get fried completely and he passes out.

But, it again (directly or indirectly) hammers in points A and B, Expendable, and Nothing more then a machine.

(I would like to add as well, his this parallels nicely with PIXAL in S11 during 'Kiaju Protocol', their stubbornness, and something I've neglected to mention about Zane which EVERYONE knows, is his Self-Sacrificial and Nobel tendencies).

And you don't even have to make that many assumptions for all of this to be considered true, just look at what he says...

In S2E5 'The Spell at the Waterfall', Zane finds a plush made for him by Frohickey, of Frohickey himself.

When Zane asks why Frohickey made him this plush, Frohickey says that he made it so if Zane had any issue to take up with him, he could talk to the Plush instead (reminiscent of his PIXAL-Brush coping mechanism in S1).

And Zane... Well he striaght up lies, he says and I quote:

"I do not expiernce heightened emotions."

Which, yeah, okay buddy, sure...

Just ignore the time you shut off your emotions... Sure

But anyway, this is really really unusual for Zane to say, he might not be good at emotions, but he'd never ever deny the fact that he feels all of them.

Well... Unless he fully believes he's just a machine.

See what I'm getting at here?

If he doesn't believe he's more then machine, then he sure as hell will make wrong assumptions and judgements on his own personhood and emotions, and... Why shouldn't he?

Everything and Everyone in the merged realms sees as him as nothing more than that, regardless of previous experiences and events that have impacted him personally.

It's wrong, really REALLY wrong, but in his mind, probably not so much.

So, what do I think they writers are doing this?

I think personally, this is all subtle and slow build up to give Zane an eventual arc, perhaps in Part 2 of Season 2, or in Season 3 even.

Because, even Doc himself recognised that Zane's character has become very stale and boring during the last few seasons, and given how pretty much EVERY CHARACTER in the show has gotten something to do that involves their character, it'd be particularly odd to leave Zane out (well unless they don't know how to write him).

And it's why they're deliberately making Zane go and say these things, it's subtle, but when it's time to give him his own time to shine, it'll make a lot more sense.

This could also related to the egg/pod thing he woke up in under Imperium, because Doc also said that it's a matter for later seasons.

But it remains to be seen if the future planned Zane arc/story is connected to the egg he was in, we'll just have to wait and see really...

[shokveyv]

Please tell us more about the story!

[I use google Translate for this. I am sorry if it is wrong. It is underneath the hider:

Sari begins at the end of season 3. Peace is upon us now that Megatron has been captured by Triticon. Sari begins experiencing visions of fragmented Cybertronian memories. These memories reveal key moments in Cybertronian history that were lost in the war. She experiences visions that predate the Great War. The visions lead her to a ship deep underground, where the Celestial Ark is located, containing the prototype AI Ogygia, storing the Cybertronian knowledge. However, the AI ​​is corrupted and perceives the Autobots and humans as a threat. She must fight the defense mechanism! She connects to the Allspark to directly access Ogygia , a psychic battlefield where she will confront the Core, corrupted by the AI. She discovers that Ogygia was sabotaged by an ancient Cybertronian faction that tried to hide an inconvenient truth about Cybertron's origins. She becomes the holder of Cybertron's history.

Drift appears on Earth. He and Sari quickly become friends. She starts speed racing with him. They go to Velocitron and try to race [Sari customizes a hover racer after receiving parts from Blur's original body! Some consider the techno-organics inferior and unworthy of competing. They lobby against Sari's participation. Velocitron's Prime, Override, intervenes and allows her to race. They face sabotage during the race, and rival racers set traps and tamper [Sari is a simple Cybertronian so she is easily hacked, oh no! ] A rebel Velocitron gang plots to steal a precious supply of Energon from the city's stockpile using the race as a distraction. During the final race, Sari Drift discovers the gang's plan and is forced to make a choice: prove themselves in the race or drop out of the race to stop the theft. Sari uses her advanced racer abilities and instincts fused with the Allspark to thwart the heist, and Drift stands up. A high-speed chase through the race circuit and the streets of Velocitron. Though Sari doesn't finish the race, her actions earn her the respect of Override and the Velocitrons, who come to see her as a true racer and ally.

And much more! [Should we keep it a secret?]

A rebel Decepticon fleet led by Stryka invades Cybertronian space. Optimus on Earth decodes an encrypted warning embedded in Sari's Cybertronian vision. He tries to warn Sentinel. Sentinel ignores and accuses Optimus of undermining him. The fleet breaks through and wreaks havoc on Cybertron. This is around the time Megatron escapes from Trypticon!!!! Sentinel orders an all-out frontal attack resulting in heavy losses. Sentinel is also severely injured!!! [He has to spend a long time recovering]. Optimus operates from Earth and teams up with Ultra Magnus' old allies [Kup, Perceptor] to mount a counterattack to outwit the Decepticons. Megatron still escapes but thwarts the main attack. The High Council publicly reprimands Sentinel for his failure. Magnus is stripped of his title. Optimus is given the role. Optimus feels unworthy, but is encouraged by Sari and the team!Optimus becomes Magnus and begins implementing reforms to rebuild Cybertron and improve relations with other species. His leadership heralds a new era of unity and hope. The Sentinels return to Prime status.

Ratchet works with Arcee to recover her past, since she cannot remember everything (due to a disconnect).

Sari, Drift and Jazz train together to hone their fighting skills. The Allspark helps her with this. She is offered a place where ninjas like Jazz and Drift lived on Cybertron. She hesitates, because they don't like organics. But she can go there in robot mode. She enjoys her time there and learns more about Cybertronian culture.

Eventually Drift becomes mentally ill and paranoid. I think it will hurt his and Sari's friendship…

Pharma arrives on Earth and takes DJD to ex-con Drift to try to get him to release her from execution. Drift confesses to Sari that he is paranoid because of DJD and says he thinks Pharma brought them to kill him. Sari is hesitant to believe him. They make a plan… [I don't want to give away too many spoilers. It's interesting!] DJD is gone for now, but he is looming.

Megatron activates a signal that awakens sleeper agents hidden in the Cybertronian human-made technology [sumdac!!] and robotic technology, causing chaos in Detroit and on Cybertron. Bumblebee's Sari and Drift move to contain the chaos. She decodes part of the signal and realizes that it contains coordinates to a Decepticon cache hidden underground in Detroit. Megatron travels to the cache and retrieves the powerful weapon that was left behind earlier. The team intercepts. The Autobots engage directly, and Sari uses her techno-organic abilities to interface with the cache's security system and lock Megatron out. However, the process triggers another memory fragment in the Allspark, temporarily paralyzing her with a vision of the origins of the Decepticon rebellion. Megatron confronts her, taunting her with the idea that an Allspark-infused body would make her more Decepticon than Autobot. Despite her fear, she overcomes the vision and uses the cache's defense mechanisms to outwit Megatron, forcing him to retreat. Back at the base, Sari reflects on Megatron's words and the visions she experienced. Ratchet reassures her that her choices define who she is, not where she came from.

There is also a plot thread in which Megatron attempts to harness the power of the Allspark still remaining in Sari's body. He attempts to extract that power from her body. As Megatron begins the extraction process, Sari experiences a series of intense visions, reliving key moments in the Allspark's history. These visions include the creation of the Cybertronians, the rise of Megatron, and the Allspark's decision to merge with her. In these memories, the Allspark appears as a presence, encouraging Sari to fight back and reminding her that she is not just a vessel, but the guardian of its legacy. Sari channels her connection with the Allspark and disables Megatron's machines. She uses the Allspark's energy to temporarily paralyze Megatron and disable the base's systems. The Autobots escape and rush to her aid, but Sari insists on confronting Megatron directly: she uses her techno-organic ingenuity to manipulate the base's technology, creating an overload that forces Megatron to retreat to avoid destruction.

As the base falls, the Autobots allow Sari to escape. Sari is exhausted but victorious. Afterwards, she confides in Optimus and Ratchet about her vision and her fear that she is merely a tool for the Allspark's power. Optimus reassures her that her choices and courage prove that she is more than a vessel. She is a protector and a friend. Meanwhile, Megatron, more obsessed with her than ever, begins to plan his next attempt to obtain the Allspark's energy.

She spends a lot of time in the Cybertron library, uploading her vast knowledge into datapads and computers, and teaching history to children. She finds it fun! She becomes best friends with Arcee, who also teaches! [She remains in her robot form when on Cybertron] Sentinels start following her, trying to figure out who this little robot is. He thinks it's a cute little robot!

There are other details not written here [still in work, such as predacons!]. But overstaying his welcome, it's hard to find the courage to continue. In this story it takes 10 years before Sentinel meets her… 7 years before he is able to speak to her [she knows he hates organics so she is desperately trying to avoid him!!!] and he is determined to speak to this little bot once and for all!

This is around the time i have written, I have more to plot, but I believed, with how much is here written, it could be smart to start drawing comic now! But it is fruitless.

[fipindustries]

the thing about Turing complete is that it presents every challenge at first as a purely abstract logic puzzle "make this one a zero, open this latch, turn this number into this other number" without really explaining what any of it means, what are you trying to achieve at higher levels, so i will gladly play along with the problem as stated and will build a mechanism that indeed opens this latch but only whn this one is not a zero AND that other zero is NOT a one OR when this one NAND this zero is a one.

and then the game will come out from the shadow and will like "congratulations! you built an 8-bit decoder! and also a calculator, and also an instruction counter, this will all be very useful for the computer that you are building! now you know how a computer works!"

and im like, do i? i was just making that one be a zero, i dont see how that does math. like i dont feel i truly internalized how all these manipulation of circuits translate to like higher level actions in the computer architecture. by the end of it im going to get a computer out of this and ill just shurg and be like "i dont get it, i was just solving puzzles"

its this eerie simulation of what i imagine it must feel like to be an idiot savant.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Black album Jason having a massive crush on reader who is the lead guitarist of the opening act. The boys tease him about it and confesses to them.

This idea is so cuteeee, I hope you like it💕

Soundcheck crush

It’s another soundcheck, and I’m back on the sidelines, bass in hand, pretending to be preoccupied with the controls. But really? My focus is locked on her—Y/N, the lead guitarist of the opening band. She’s up there shredding through her solos, completely lost in her music, and I’m transfixed. Every time she closes her eyes, lips pursed in concentration, I swear I’m about to lose it.

I can’t even begin to explain what it is about her—maybe it’s the way she looks so effortlessly at home up there, the way she seems oblivious to anyone watching. There’s no denying it, though: I’ve got it bad, and it’s getting harder to hide.

And then, of course, James appears beside me with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s been waiting for me to slip. He’s grinning, eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene. “Checking out the opening act again, huh?” he teases, his tone loaded with barely disguised amusement.

I try to keep it cool, shrugging like I’m totally unbothered. “Just making sure the levels are good,” I say, though I can feel my face warming. “You know. Professional courtesy.”

“Oh, really?” Kirk joins us now, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You’ve been awfully dedicated to this ‘professional courtesy’ all week. Especially when it comes to watching Y/N.”

Lars sidles up, crossing his arms with a smirk of his own. “Jason, man, you’re not fooling anyone. We all know you’ve been staring at her, like, every single day.”

They keep at it, nudging me and making side comments, and I’m about to come up with some excuse when Lars raises his eyebrow. “Admit it, dude. You’re crushing on her, right?”

I let out a sigh, feeling my face heat up even more. The guys know me too well, and the way they’re looking at me, I know there’s no point in denying it anymore. I groan and rub the back of my neck, finally letting it out.

“Alright, fine!” I say, laughing a little despite myself. “Yeah, I like her, okay? She’s… she’s incredible. Not just her playing—she’s got this presence, you know? Like, I can’t stop watching her. She’s just… different.”

There’s a beat of silence before the guys burst out laughing. But it’s not the mean, mocking kind; they’re just surprised, probably glad I finally cracked.

James slaps me on the back, grinning. There it is. Finally, some honesty from our man here. So what’s stopping you? Go talk to her. She’s not gonna bite your head off.”

I shake my head, still embarrassed but relieved to have gotten it out there. “I don’t know, man. It’s… not that easy. What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I’ve been secretly watching you every night’? That’s just… weird.”

Kirk chimes in with a laugh. “Or, you know, you could just tell her you like her playing. Give her a compliment, say something. Anything would be better than staring her down from across the stage.”

I laugh and roll my eyes, but I know they’re right. The truth is, every time I get anywhere near her, my brain just… short-circuits. It’s like I forget how to form sentences, and that’s if I’m lucky enough to remember my own name.

And then, of course, here comes the opening band, just wrapping up their soundcheck. Y/N’s leading the group, her guitar slung over her shoulder, her face still flushed from playing. When she sees me, her eyes light up, and she walks over, giving me this warm, friendly smile.

“Oh, hey, Jason!” she says, stopping in front of me. “Didn’t realize you’d be hanging around for our soundcheck again.”

I scramble for something smooth to say, but my brain decides to abandon me. “Uh… yeah! I mean… I’m, uh, a fan. Of… music. And your band. And… you.” As soon as the words are out, I know I sound like an idiot, but I can’t stop myself from turning red.

She raises an eyebrow, laughing a little as if she’s trying to decode what I just said. “Well, thanks, I guess?” she says, chuckling. “Nice to know I’ve got Metallica’s bassist as a fan.”

“Totally,” I manage, forcing a smile. “I mean, you’re… really good. You’ve got an amazing sound and… you, especially, you’re just, uh…” I trail off, mentally kicking myself as I struggle to finish a coherent sentence.

She looks at me with a soft, amused smile, tilting her head slightly. “Thanks, Jason. That’s really nice of you.” She gives me a quick, friendly nudge on the shoulder, sending my heart racing. “Guess I’ll see you out there tommorow?”

“Yeah,” I managed, still dazed. “For sure.”

With one last smile, she heads off with her bandmates, and I’m left standing there, feeling like I just ran a marathon. As soon as she’s out of earshot, the guys completely lose it.

“Oh man, you nailed it!” Lars says, cracking up. “‘I’m a fan of… music. "So smooth,” he mimics, clutching his sides from laughing so hard.

“Seriously, Jason, I thought you were gonna pass out!” Kirk adds, wiping away a tear. “I’ve never seen you that red in my life.”

I let out a groan, rubbing my face. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. At least I actually said something this time.”

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps,” James says, grinning. “Maybe by the end of the tour, you’ll actually be able to have a full conversation with her.”

They keep poking fun, but it feels different this time. I’ve got this stupid grin on my face, and even though I stumbled through every word, there’s a part of me that’s just… happy. She talked to me, laughed with me, nudged my shoulder, and she didn’t seem to think I was too much of a mess. 

For now, that’s more than enough. But next time? I might just take a real step forward.

[talonabraxas]

Scientific Decodation of Sri Yantra (श्रीयंत्र)

The term yantra, which literally means an instrument for holding or restraining, may be used to denote a variety of linear diagrams which play a significant role in the meditative practices of Tantric Hinduism. Yantras may be simple designs such as the cross, triangle, square, circle or lotus pattern, symbolizing basic concepts, or may be more complex combinations of such elements in figures representing in abstract form the particular creative forces in the cosmos which are called divinities.

The Sri Yantra is an ancient Indian symbol depicting the vibrational form (a form of mystical diagram) that rishis saw during mediations using the tone OMM. The Sri Yantra (sacred instrument) or Sri Chakra (sacred wheel) or Mahameru (3D) is a yantra formed by nine interlocking triangles that surround and radiate out from the central (bindu) point, the junction point between the physical universe and its unmanifest source.

It represents the Goddess in her form of Shri Lalita the beauty of the three worlds (Heaven, Earth, Hell). The shapes of five elements, found in Sri-yantra are; Air/ wood : Rectangular, Fire : Triangular, Earth : Square, Space / Metal : Round and Water element : Wavy form. They are closely related to the mandalas used by both Hindu and Buddhist Tantrism, in which geometric design is supplemented by elaborate symbolic images of the deities which by their various forms and attributes indicate different aspects of the hidden order of reality.

As the yantra is ‘the linear paradigm of the mandala’, expressing the same principles in geometric form. Like mandalas, yantras are used in the context of meditation and worship as visual-aids to concentration of the mind leading to realization of abstract principle which is the inner meaning of the visible representation. The best known and geometrically the most complex yantra is the Sri-yantra, also known as the Sri- chakra. The structure of this yantra is enigmatically described in the Saundarya-lahari (the Wave of Beauty) a lengthy poem praising the great goddess whose dwelling place the Sri-yantra is said to be.

By reason of the four Srikanthas (srikantha is an epithet of Shiva) and the five damsels of Shiva (which have the nature of Shakti), which are penetrated by Sambhu (i.e. bindu- the dot in the centre) and constitute the nine fundamental natures, the 43 (or 44) angles of your dwelling place are evolved, along with the 8-petalled (Ashta Prakriti) and 16-petalled lotuses(16 Phases of Moon, the circles and the three lines (TriGunas ; Satva Rajo Tamo).

When the inquisitive Sati addressed her curiosity regarding the functioning of the universe to Lord Shiva, he gave her a detailed pictorial explanation by connecting a number of lines. These lines proceeded to interlace themselves to form 43 triangles within a circle. It is composed of nine triangles, it is known as the Navayoni Chakra. These nine triangles are of various sizes and intersect with one another. This circle was further surrounded by layers of petals contained in three additional circles which were finally encompassed in three more sharp layers.

Sri Yantra is a circuit showing chakras of the body. Each chakra of the yantra is a symbol of chakra of the human body. In the middle is the power point (bindu), visualizing the highest, the invisible, elusive centre from which the entire figure and the cosmos expand. The triangles are enclosed by two rows of (8 and 16) petals, representing the lotus of creation and reproductive vital force. The chakras present in the body represent superimposition of 4 triangles and 5 triangles in an upward position and downward position respectively.

These interlocking of upward and downward triangle lead to the formation of 43 smaller triangles in the Sri Yantra. The downward pointing triangle is a way of representing Shakti which is the female principle. On the other hand, the triangles pointing upwards are representing Shiva, male principle. The broken lines of the outer frame denote the figure to be a sanctuary with four openings to the regions of the universe.

The different parts or petals and lines of the yantra are usually arranged in concentric circles (mandalas) and contain rays or sub-limbs of devi. The Shri Yantra has nine of these mandals, each filled with various aspects of the Devi. In Shri Yantra there are 111 aspects. The Shri Yantra is said to be a geometric form of the human body, which implies that goddess as Macrocosm is one with human being as Microcosm.

According to Tantra, the creation of the world begins with an act of division of the opposites that are united in the deity. From their splitting arises, in an explosion of energy, the multiplicity of the world. Starting from pure unity (Shiva), the world is continuous unfolding (energized by the power of Shakti), until a state is reached when the process must reverse and involute back to the very beginning. Multiplicity must once again become unity. Yantras are symbolic representations of this process of evolution and involution.

In its three-dimensional forms, Sri Yantra is said to represent Mount Meru, the cosmic mountain at the center of the universe. The Sri Yantra is conceived as a place of spiritual pilgrimage. It is a representation of the cosmos at the macrocosmic level and of the human body at the microcosmic level (each of the circuits corresponds to a chakra of the body). The human being is a miniature universe. All that is found in the cosmos can be found within each individual, and the same principles that apply to the universe apply in the case of the individual being.

For human beings, the body is considered the most perfect and powerful of all yantras and is seen as a tool for inner awareness. Formation of these 43 triangles is happening by the intersection of circles, starting from a central point - Bindu this central point expanding as a circle, then in the same measurement four circles creating further intersections by repeating this process fractals are formed.

Fractals are infinitely complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales. They are created by repeating a simple process over and over in an ongoing feedback loop, the central part of the Sri Yantra is 43 triangles out of circular fractals, after the fractal formation connecting the appropriate intersections 43 triangles, Sri Yanta is formed.

This formation will tell the secret of how the human body evolved in Karana (Causal) Sookshma (Subtle) level with the flow of Prana. Bodies are mere conceptions in the lower order of beings and they are not to the point in the case of God. Therefore, be wise, and worship the one pure, unblemished Transcendence. If unable to comprehend this pure state, one should worship God in the concrete form which is most agreeable to him; in this way, too, one is sure to reach the goal, though gradually. Though one attempted it in millions of births, one would not advance except in one of these two ways.

The main structural pieces in the Sri Yantra to start opening you to see multidimensionally beyond the simple lines and shapes. The Sri Yantra are surrounded by a square with four “T” shapes jutting out on each of its four sides. These “T” shapes are referred to as the gates of Bhuper, a reference to the earth (bhu). Each of these gates has a mystical significance beyond the representation of the four directions on the Earth plane (North, East, South & West). The square itself including the “T” gates form the foundation of the Sri Yantra and stabilize all energy within it for manifestation.

This square contains the earth (bhu) energy and when activated, the “T”s are the gates that control energetic access in the more Earthbound planes of the resident Divine energy for that specific Yantra (there are different types of Yantras with different Divine beings associated with them). Specific mantras are the keys to unlock or lock these gates. Looking inside the sacred geometry of this square you will find:

Circles which generally symbolize the Water element

Vertical Lines which are understood as containing the Fire element,

Diagonal Lines represent the Air element

Horizontal Lines which represent Ether element

Remember the Square itself is the Earth element

Looking at the center shapes of the Sri Yantra pay attention to the triangles:

Triangles, when pointed up, contain the Divine Masculine, as well as the Fire nature.

Triangles that are pointed downward, they contain Water element and the Divine Feminine.

For thousands of years, sages in India and other parts of the world meditated to discover sacred (self organising) life principles, how to enhance happiness and reduce misery in life. Sri Chakra arose in their visions. It combined geometry, sounds and life to channel the nameless, formless powers of God.

It is the king of yantras with nine layers of Shaktis (powers) covering the light of God in the forms of stars, lotuses and squares containing powers, passions and beauties. Their unmasked beauty and razor sharp intellects earned them a nickname- khadgamala- a garland of swords. They cut off and pierce through all limiting ideas of I and mine to release your unbounded bliss of God.

Learn the secret teachings of Sa-maya (Shakti’s happiness) Dakshina (Shiva’s happiness) or Kaula (Both happiness’s) and Vama (offering self in fire) acharas, and finally Ananda Bhairavis of devotees forming into a self empowering mandalas of Sri Chakras. The Guru at the center of such a circle is called Maha Mandaleswara.

Layers of coverings in Sri Chakra:

1. Square- 10 siddhis, 8 passions, 10 gestures. Use them to enjoy astral powers.

2. Lotus of 16 petals. Time is divided into 16 lunar days, each day bringing a special dream gift.

3. Lotus of 8 petals. Let go of inhibitions. Offer fruits of all your actions to Goddess.

4. Star of 14. Powers ruling the worlds place their riches at your feet.

5. Outer star of 10. These airy spirits blow away poverty.

6. Inner star of 10. They defend you from enemies.

7. Star of 8. They eliminate diseases.

8. Triangle. They teach secrets of controlling lust, enhancing wisdom and manifesting visions.

9. Circle or point. Take you to unending powers beyond mind. Merge with infinite peace, bliss and light of union with Shiva-Shakti.

The typical Sri Yantra with its central point (bindu) and concentric circles of petals and other geometries are conceived of as a sacred dwelling in which the presiding deity and their entourage take up residence. The bindu represents the location of the highest manifestation of the deity as well as the focal point through which the deity transcends the relative plane, with its form and structure to merge into the formless consciousness.

To help visually understand, the bindu is the center of the Sri Yantra and the dot is the symbol of AUM it represents the piercing, breaking or bursting through (bindu vedhana) and it is the final stage.

'यद् पिण्डे तद् ब्रह्माण्डे' Sri Yantra is a geometrical representation of the Human body as well as the Universe. Fractals are infinitely complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales. They are created by repeating a simple process over and over in an ongoing feedback loop, the central part of the Sri Yantra is 43 triangles out of circular fractals, after the fractal formation connecting the appropriate intersections 43 triangles, Sri Yanta is formed, this formation will tell the secret of how the human body evolved in Karana (Causal) Sookshma (Subtle) level with the flow of Prana.

This is the very same formless consciousness in which the devotee merges with the highest truth. The Sri Yantra is then fully activated in its Divine nature and reveals the true potential and nature of the devotee in this merging and loving relationship with the Divine as the divine.

Vidya means knowledge, specifically female knowledge, or the Goddess, and in this context relates to her aspect called Shri, Lalita or Tripurasundari whose magical diagram is called the Shri Yantra. She is a red flower, so her diagram is a flower too. Lalita means She Who Plays. All creation, manifestation and dissolution is considered to be a play of Devi or the goddess. Mahatripurasundari is her name as transcendent beauty of the three cities, a description of the goddess as conqueror of the three cities of the demons, or as the triple city (Tripura), but really a metaphor for a human being.

Sri Yantra is usually translated as a machine, but in the special sense of the tantrik tradition refers to the Devi in her linear or geometrical form. Yantras, by the way, are always used flat. They may be two-dimensional or three-dimensional. Every aspect of Devi has her own mantra and yantra. The yantra of Devi Lalita is Shri Yantra. The divinity of the yantra always occupies the centre or apex.

Sri Vidya (worship of the Supreme Being as Goddess) has a very holy tradition traced to the Vedas. The methods and intention for the worship of Sri Vidya has been extensively mentioned in the book Tripura Rahasya. Sri Tripura Rahasya, otherwise known as Haritaayana Samhitaa, begins with "OM Namaha" ("Salutations to Aum") and ends with "Shri Tripuraiva Hrim" ("Tripura is only Hrim"). Even Adi Shankara has used the story of Samvarta as found in Tripura Rahasya in his Brahma Sutra Bhasya. The book says that one should worship Tripura, the soul-sorceress, the all-hearted Vasini, the Siva and the Parameswari as the Satguru in the heart.

The seventh chapter of the book ends with the following: He is pure intelligence and His consciousness is absolute and transcendental. Such is the consciousness-intelligence in purity, Absolute Being, the One Queen, Parameswari (Transcendental Goddess) overwhelming the three states and hence called Tripura. Though She is undivided whole the universe manifests in all its variety in Her, being reflected as it were, in a self-luminous mirror. The reflection cannot be apart from the mirror and is therefore one with it. Such being the case, there cannot be difference in degrees (e.g., Siva, or Vishnu being superior to each other).

In its three dimensional forms Sri Yantra is said to represent Mount Meru, the cosmic mountain at the center of the universe. The Sri Yantra representation of the cosmos at the macrocosmic level and of the human body at the microcosmic level (each of the circuits correspond to a chakra or vortex of the body).

The Sri Yantra is a configuration of nine interlocking triangles ( 9×9 grid or gross body ), surrounded by two circles of lotus petals with the whole encased within a gated frame, called the “earth citadel”. The nine interlocking triangles centered around the bindu (8×8 grid the central point of the yantra or microabode or subtle body ) are drawn by the superimposition of five downward pointing triangles, representing Shakti ; the female principle and four upright triangles, representing Shiva ; the male principle.

The nine interlocking triangles form forty three small triangles each housing a presiding deity associated with particular aspects of existence. Man’s spiritual journey from the stage of material existence to ultimate enlightenment is mapped on the Sri Yantra. The spiritual journey is taken as a pilgrimage in which every step is an ascent to the center (8×8) , a movement beyond one’s limited existence, and every level is nearer to the goal.

Such a journey is mapped in stages, and each of these stages corresponds with one of the circuits of which the Sri Yantra is composed from the outer plane ( 9×9 ) to the bindu ( 8×8 ) in the center. The Sri Yantra is a tool to give a vision of the totality of existence, so that the adept may internalize its symbols for the ultimate realization of his unity with the cosmos. The goal of contemplating the Sri Yantra is that the adept can rediscover his primordial sources. The circuits symbolically indicate the successive phases in the process of becoming.

The Sri Yantra is composed of a central figure that is surrounded by two circular rows of petals and then by a rectangular enclosure called the bhupura. Here, we will be focusing mainly on the central figure which is composed of nine overlapping triangles and a bindu point. Four of the triangles point up, the other five point down. In the most popular configuration the two biggest triangles touch the outer circle on all three points.

When looking at the figure we notice that there is a high degree of interconnectedness between the nine triangles. This means that every triangle is connected to one or more of the other triangles via common points and they do not criss cross. Where the triple intersection points are located. These are the points that lock together the triangles. You can’t move one without also moving the others. This interconnections scale up to infinite small (Planck length a unit of length) protons etc. ) to infinite big ( cosmos, universe ). This is the principle of cosmic entanglement.

Notice also that the two biggest triangles are touching the outside circle on three points and that the apex of every triangle is connected to the base of another triangle. The up and down triangles when overlapped give a pentacle (पंचकोण जो तंत्र में प्रयुक्त होता है). Thus Sri Yantra is a geometry with five degrees of freedom. Pentadic scale of cosmic regulation is called panchmahabhuta in Hinduism and 5 energies in Chinese occult , which means that up to five different criterion can be used to define it. This is why we have to decide on the location of five lines when drawing the figure.

Five degrees of freedom is not a lot considering that there is a total of nine triangles. This is because of the high degree of interconnectedness between the triangles. This effectively limits the possibilities and variations that can be achieved. Lets now take a look at the bindu point; the small point located in the central triangle. It should be located in the center of the innermost triangle. This can be achieved precisely by placing the bindu at the center of a circle that fits inside this triangle. This is known in mathematics as the incenter of a triangle. To achieve a perfectly centered figure however, the bindu should also be located at the center of the outer circle.

The equilateral (समभुज) triangle is a perfect and minimal structure. It is the simplest, strongest and most fundamental structure in geometry and computer graphics. It has the highest degree of tensegrity (the characteristic property of a stable three-dimensional structure ) for a minimum amount of structural elements. This is also why the geodesic domea structure or building shaped like half a ball, made up of many parts that form triangles and other shapes with several sides ) a spherical structure composed of small triangles is the only man-made structure that becomes proportionally stronger as it increases in size.

The Sri Yantra symbolizes, among other things the unfoldment of creation. The bindu represents the unmanifest ( 8×8 grid of subtle body ), the silent state. The next level in the expression of the Universe is represented by the innermost triangle. This level represents the trinity of rishi, devata, chanda, or the observer, the process of observation and the object being observed.

At this point the symmetry of creation is still intact and will be broken when it reaches the next level which represent the grosser aspects of the relative. This reflects the unfoldment from unity or singularity to trinity as expounded (explain the meaning ) in the Vedic literature. According to the Veda the Universe becomes manifest when unbounded awareness becomes aware of itself.

The spark of self awareness ignites creation. At this point Unity divides into the trinity of rishi (the observer), devata (process of knowing) and chanda (the object of perception). The same idea is also found in the bible as the principle of the holy trinity. The central triangle is the central lens of the Sri Yantra. If as some suggest, this pattern is capable of emitting a significant amount of subtle energy, the importance of having a well balanced and centered figure becomes obvious. For these reasons the central triangle should be equilateral in an optimal . For this to happen the highest down pointing primary triangle must have an angle of 60 degrees .

The Centre of Mass (a point 'Bindu' representing the mean position of the matter in a body or system). Another measure of overall balance of a structure is the center of mass. This is the point in the geometry where it would balance if it was a solid object.

The central triangle of Sri Yantras shows a configuration/arrangement where only concurrency/agreement is achieved. In this case the bindu, the center of the outer circle and the center of mass are not aligned( arrange in a straight line). The central figure shows a Sri Yantra that achieves concurrency and concentricity. As a result the bindu and the center of the outer circle overlap nicely. The center of mass still doesn’t overlap however.

The three criterion that we have suggested (concurrency, concentricity and equilateral central triangle), the three centers overlap and we have a perfectly centered and balanced figure where the bindu is well centered and more importantly the centermost triangle has an angle very close to 60 degrees. This is called perfect balance or harmony with the source of all existence .

Since the Sri Yantra is based on triangles it is very appropriate that there are currently three main ways to represent this figure. The first and probably the most common is the plane form, which is what we have been looking at so far.

The second is the pyramidal form called Meru in India. Mount Meru is a mythical mountain. So named because of the mountain shape of the figure.

The third and rarest form is the spherical form or Kurma. Kurma was the second incarnation of Vishnu, the turtle incarnation.

This refers to the similarity between this form and the shell of a turtle. Ever wondered why the shell of a turtle is so robust. It is interesting to note that there seems to be some confusion with the use of these two terms. The pyramidal form is often wrongly referred to as Kurma.

A hymn from Atharvaveda is dedicated to an object that closely resembles this. The sriyantra (‘great object’) belongs to a class of devices used in meditation, mainly by those belonging to the Hindu tantric tradition. The diagram consists of nine interwoven isosceles triangles four point upwards, representing Shakti, the primordial female essence of dynamic energy, and five point downwards, representing Shiva, the primordial male essence of static wisdom.

The triangles are arranged in such a way that they produce 43 subsidiary triangles, at the centre of the smallest of which there is a big dot (known as the bindu). These smaller triangles are supposed to form the abodes of different gods, whose names are sometimes entered in their respective places.

In common with many depictions of the Sriyantra they have outer rings consisting of an eight-petalled lotus, enclosed by a sixteen petalled lotus, girdled in turn by three circles, all enclosed in a square with four doors, one on each side. The square represents the boundaries within which the deities reside, protected from the chaos and disorder of the outside world.

Tantric tradition suggests that there are two ways of using the sriyantra for meditation. In the outward approach one begins by contemplating the bindu and proceeds outwards by stages to take in the smallest triangle in which it is enclosed, then the next two triangles, and so on, slowly expanding outwards through a sequence of shapes to the outer shapes in which the whole object is contained.

This outward contemplation is associated with an evolutionary view of the development of the universe where, starting with primordial matter represented by the dot, the meditator concentrates on increasingly complex organisms, as indicated by increasingly complex shapes, until reaching the very boundaries of the universe from where escape is possible only through one of the four doors into chaos.

The ‘inward’ approach to meditation, which starts from a circle and then moves inwards, is known in tantric literature as the process of destruction ( a falling blackhole and emerging by big bang in a new universe ). The mathematical interest in the Sriyantra lies in the construction of the central nine triangles, which is a more difficult problem than might first appear. A line here may have three, four, five or six intersections with other lines.

The problem is to construct a sriyantra in which all the intersections are correct and the vertices of the largest triangles fall on the circumference of the enclosing circle. There is, however, a curious fact about all the correctly constructed sriyantras, whether enclosed in circles or in squares. In all such cases the base angle of the largest triangles is about 51.

The interpenetration of the nine basic triangles gives rise to a number of subsidiary triangles (43 including the central triangle enclosing the bindu) which form the abodes of the deities, representing the particularization of the original creative forces into more concrete manifestations. Sometimes the names of deities and Sanskrit syllables are written into these triangles, or images of the deities are placed in them.

In most versions of the yantra this central design is enclosed by two circular lotus-patterns with eight and sixteen petals, a girdle of three concentric circles, and finally a square arrangement of straight line with four openings ( Dharma Artha Kama Moksha). Dharma is duty, Artha means wealth, Kama is desire and Moksha means liberation.This square outline, which is common also to mandalas, symbolizes the royal palace in which the deities reside – an area of sacred space protected from the disintegrating forces of chaos.

In general, the Sri-yantra is a ‘cosmogram’ a graphic representation of the universal processes of emanation and reabsorption reduced to their essential outline. The yantra is an expression in terms of linear symbolism of the cosmic manifestations, beginning with the primordial unity.

The basis of Sri Chakra is its mantra; the fifteen lettered mantra in three groups: a e i la hrim; ha sa ka ha la hrim; sa ka la hrim. The sixteenth letter “srim” is present in a subtle form. Sri Chakra is basically a triad; and, is also related to number nine .

The triangle which is primary to the chakra has three angles and the deity residing in it is Tripura. The mantra of each of the nine enclosures of Sri Chakra is three lettered; the Mother Goddess is worshiped in her three forms; the Kundalini energy in the individual is threefold, and the phenomenal processes arising out of the union of Shiva and Shakthi are also three.

The Chakra design represents Tripura or Tripura Sundari; while her manifest powers (yogini) are nine. There are also three dimensions of the Sri-chakra corresponding to the three sections (kuta) of the mantra; and, each of these dimensions has a further division into three units. Each of these nine units are called as chakras that are encased in Sri Chakra.

All its other interpretations are also in terms of three and nine. The three groups that constitute the mantra are called Kuta (peaks) or Khanda (segments). They are interpreted variously in sets of three as:

1-Agni (fire), Surya (sun) and Chandra (moon);

2-srishti (creation), Shtithi (preservation) and laya (dissolution) ;

3-Iccha ( will), jnana (knowledge) and kriya (action);

4-Sattva, Rajas and Tamas;

5-Jagrat (wakefulness) ;swapna (dream state) and sushupthi (deep sleep);

6-Jnatra (the knower), jnana (the knowledge) and jneya ( the known) ;

7- Atma (individual self), Antaratma (inner being) and Paramatma (supreme self);

8- Past , present and future

Om Shree Matre Namah

By Anadi Sahoo ji

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Yusaku: Link The Circuit! I Link Summon! Link-3, Decode Talker!

Yami: Link What?

Yusei: What Summon?

Jaden, Yuma and Yuya: What what?