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mysticstronomy · 4 months

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WHAT IS BEYOND THE EDGE OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM??

Blog#383

Wednesday, March 13th, 2024.

Welcome back,

Earth is the sixth planet from the edge of the solar system, meaning we're none too near this cold and inhospitable frontier. But we've sent out various spacecraft over the years, so do we have any idea what the edge of the solar system looks like?

The answer is yes, but it's a work in progress. One of the latest developments, a 3D map of the solar system's edge that took 13 years to create, revealed a few more secrets about this mysterious boundary, called the outer heliosphere.

The outer heliosphere marks the region of space where the solar wind, or the stream of charged particles emitted from the sun, is "deflected and draped back" by the interstellar radiation that permeates the empty space beyond the solar system, said Dan Reisenfeld, a space science researcher at Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico and head of the team that conducted the research on the 3D map. In other words, solar wind and interstellar particles meet and form a boundary at the far reaches of the solar system.

Earthlings first got a glimpse of the solar system's outer edge in 2012, when Voyager I, a NASA spacecraft that launched in 1977, crossed into interstellar space, according to NASA. Voyager 2 was not far behind, repeating the feat in 2018. Equipped with golden records full of Bach, Louis Armstrong and humpback whale songs, in addition to their scientific instruments, Voyagers 1 and 2 reported a sudden dropoff in solar particles and a substantial increase in galactic radiation when they left the solar system, according to NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory at the California Institute of Technology.

The new 3D map reveals even more about the heliosphere. The inner layer — where the sun and its planets are nestled — is roughly spherical and is thought to extend roughly 90 astronomical units (AU) in all directions. (One AU is the average distance between Earth and the sun, about 93 million miles, or 150 million kilometers.) The outer layer is much less symmetrical. In one direction — that in which the ever-moving sun plows through the space in front of it, encountering cosmic radiation — the outer heliosphere extends about 110 AU, but in the opposite direction, it's much longer, at least 350 AU, according to Reisenfeld.

That lack of symmetry comes from the sun's movement through the Milky Way, as it experiences friction with the galactic radiation in front of it and clears out a space in its wake. "There's a lot of plasma [charged particles] in the interstellar medium, and… the inner heliosphere, which is pretty round, is an obstacle in this stream of plasma which is flowing past it," Reisenfeld told Live Science. "It has the same effect as water going around a rock in a stream," with a rush of water crashing into the rock in front and a sheltered calm behind it.

Measurements for the 3D map were gathered using the Interstellar Boundary Explorer (IBEX), which was launched in 2008 and is "the size of a bus tire," according to NASA. It's pronounced "like the animal," Reisenfeld said, referring to the ibex mountain goats known for their gravity-defying treks up alpine cliffs. But the animal that IBEX really takes after is the bat.

Many bats hunt insects, such as mosquitoes, by emitting a pulse of sound and using the time delay of the echo to figure out the distance to their prey. Likewise, IBEX detects solar-wind particles that have bounced back from the edges of the solar system, allowing Reisenfeld and his colleagues to determine the distances involved by measuring how long their round trip took.

"The sun will send out a pulse … and then we passively wait for a return signal from the outer heliosphere, and we use that time delay to determine where the outer heliosphere must be," Reisenfeld explained.

As the sun circles the outer rim of the Milky Way, the solar wind keeps cosmic radiation at bay, forming a protective bubble. This is good for us, since "that radiation can damage spacecraft and it can be a health hazard for astronauts," Reisenfeld said.

Originally published on www.livescience.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, March 16th, 2024)

"WHAT IF WE ARE TRULY ALONE IN THIS UNIVERSE??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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the-authoress-writes · 11 months

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Somewhere Out There

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Deployments are hard, but when you have someone to come home to, someone to love, that makes things easier, painful as it may be.

Warnings: Maybe a little bit of angst, I guess, offscreen sort-of implied married-people-doing-married-people-stuff 😉😉, minuscule cursing, a PG-13 use of the F-word, and a crap-ton of fluffy, lovey-dovey goodness.

Author’s Note: I don’t write reader fic.

I really don’t.

I write ship fic and gen fic, and I’d say I’m pretty decent at it, judging from the comments on my stories.

But then, @valmare came along, and we just clicked.

Mostly through screaming about Top Gun, naval aviators (*cough*tomkazansky*cough*), and our mutual appreciation for Val Kilmer.

And I knew I wanted to write something for her, especially since she was celebrating 300 followers!

Unfortunately, deep down, I knew I couldn’t write a ship fic for her.

I would have to write a reader!fic.

So, because I love her, I delved into the uncharted (for me, at least) waters of reader!fic.

I’m honestly not sure if this is any good, I wrote it in a perspective I’m not used to, and I hope and pray it makes any kind of sense.

Title is from the song of the same name, “Somewhere Out There”, from An American Tail.

To my dear Mir, I swear I began writing this yesterday, but I touched on things that you did in your own most recent fic, however, I couldn’t for the life of me, find another way to put what I wrote.

I promise on Goose’s grave that I did not plagiarize you.

All I can say is… fangirls think alike?

Please don’t hate meeee!!!!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this attempt at wading in the waters you so expertly navigate, my dear!

Happy 300 Followers!!!

The mist was rolling in from the sea, she absently noted, while the rising sun caught the minuscule droplets of water in the air, making the very wind shimmer.

Even inside, she could smell the faint tang of salt in the air, one of her favorite scents, but it was missing the key part—so much was missing.

The warmth of her husband behind her, for one thing, as they watched the sunrise on this window seat, her legs bracketed by his, his arms around her, the scent of spice, bourbon, and jet fuel which was all him, surrounding her.

God, she missed Tom.

Right now, he was halfway around the world on a ship, and she was watching the weekend sunrise without him, for the first time since they got married.

She knew this was part of being married to an active duty naval aviator, but it didn’t make the ache any better.

She tugged the collar of the USNA t-shirt up to her nose, but the scent was so faint from when Tom had tossed it to the floor the night before his deployment.

She sighed; she could still remember how he’d made her feel that night—he’d made her body sing, playing her like an expert musician would his instrument.

She’d felt him for days after, and if she focused enough, even now, she could almost feel his hands on her, the paradox of how gentle they were, despite the callouses on his palm, his lips on hers.

For all that he was called “Iceman”, she never saw an iota of the reasoning; with her, he was never anything but unfailingly warm, gentle, kind, loving, and passionate.

It had been nearly a week since she dropped him off last Monday at Miramar, exhorting Mav and Slider to bring him home to her.

The grave promise in the two men’s eyes as they readily agreed, had to be comfort enough, and wordlessly, they hauled Tom’s seabag between them, a strap in each of their hands, cheerfully bickering as they went, to give her a chance to say a more private goodbye.

She didn’t know what to say to him—this had to be one of the most painful things she’d ever done—giving her husband up to the sea and sky for ninety days, not knowing if he’d return to her alive, safe, having to trust only in his skill on the stick and his wingmen to bring him back to her.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, and Tom’s eyes softened, as he drew her into his embrace. “I’ll come back to you, lyubimaya moya,” he whispered in her ear, all too aware of how dangerous it was to speak Russian on base, outside of the safety of the walls of their house, but aware that she needed the comfort.

“Promise me—promise you’ll come back to me, Thomas Kazansky,” she fiercely murmured, drawing back to look at him, taking the opportunity that she would shortly not have.

“Always.

No matter what, no matter what oceans part us,” he replied, an intensity which would frighten others, but which soothed her, in his crystalline eyes.

She gasped and desperately tugged him to her, his kiss piecing her heart together and breaking it, all for knowing that it was the last time she’d feel it for three months.

He’d taken her soul with him the moment he let her go to do his duty.

Back in the pain of her present, a sob masquerading as a sigh tore from her lips—it wasn’t enough; it would never be enough until she had him back in her arms, back in her bed, back in this house, where she felt like a shade of herself, a modern-day Eurydice.

Her legs reluctantly carried her to the kitchen, where she prepared her weekend coffee, narrowly resisting the urge to pull out two mugs instead of one.

But when she picked up the can of Maxwell House, she fumbled it, because it was far lighter than it should’ve been—heavy, but not the still-full can it should have been.

Tentatively, she opened it, and gasped when she saw that the can was filled with folded-up pieces of paper, each marked with dates on them, in Tom’s careful, exacting writing.

She tipped the can over, and the papers came spilling out—there had to be at least three months worth of letters here, one for each day of his deployment.

She frantically searched through the pile, looking for today’s date.

Upon finding it, she dashed back to the window seat, deliberately peeling the tape holding it closed, unable to treat the letter with anything less than the utmost care.

She quickly noticed Tom’s writing here was cramped, as if he were trying to fit everything he wanted to say on this one small piece of paper.

“Hello, solnishko,

If you’re reading this, it means that you’ve found the letters I wrote for you; one for each day of my deployment.

As I write this, I am next to you in bed, looking at your beautiful face, so peaceful in sleep, but the mere thought of my impending departure already tears me apart more than I thought possible.

I won’t have thought of anything else but you since the moment I left your arms, I am absolutely certain.

You know all too well why I joined the Navy—my search for a home, a real home, one not plagued by unattainable standards and harsh words.

I eventually found one in the sky, and for the longest time, she was enough, with her freedom, her thrill, but there were still demands, still standards, though the words were kinder.

Then I met you.

And you changed everything.

You are my home, lyubimaya moya; with you, I don’t have to be Iceman, or Lieutenant Kazansky; with you, I can be Tom.

Just Tom.

Your Tom.

I can’t wait until I can be your Tom again.

Eighty-four days, zhizn moya; and I’m yours again.

Yours forever,

Tom”

She pressed her hand to her chest, careful to avoid crumpling the paper beneath her hand, a tear slipping from her eyes, the ache of his absence soothed with the absolute confirmation that he was thinking of her just as she was about him, and intensified, knowing that he was so far away.

Eventually, she sniffled, brushing away her tear tracks, wishing it was Tom’s hand, and gathered herself.

Eighty-four days.

Eighty-four days, and she’d have him back—a short eternity, to be sure, but a small price to pay for what she’d get back at the end.

Until then, she’d count the sunrises, holding him and the words he’d written for her, close to her heart.

Tom stared out at the horizon, watching the sun come up on the relatively quiet deck of the Enterprise.

It meant that he lost a good thirty minutes of sleep, but it was worth it, just to know that his wife was looking at the same sunrise, or she would be, at any rate, given the time difference.

The horizon spread out before him; endless, and the fleeting, errant thought that she was just there, beyond the beyond, entered his mind.

So far—a little over six thousand nautical miles, more or less, depending on the course and speed of the Enterprise, further than any F-14 could fly—and yet so near, because she was never far from his heart.

He’d never thought he could love anything or anyone more than her—among his other endearments for her was zhizn moya, because that was what she was to him: his life.

Tom idly twisted the band of gold around his left ring finger, more proud of that simple ring than the hard-won blue-jeweled Annapolis ring on his right.

God, he missed her.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Tom turned to see Mav, coming up to lean on the railing beside him, none of the usual cockiness on his face.

“You shouldn’t be up yet, Mav.”

A haunted expression lingered on the edges of his wingman’s face as he searched for anything but the truth to tell, and Tom knew. “The usual?”

“Yeah,” Mav rasped. “I—I checked on Merls and Sli, but I got—got worried when I—I didn’t find you, so…” the black-haired pilot trailed off, before continuing, “you okay?”

“I should be asking you that, but… yeah, I am, just…”

“Just missing her,” Mav nodded sagely, almost wistfully.

“Yeah.”

“How do you even handle that?” Mav asked, frowning.

The sunlight made him feel more honest than he would probably otherwise be, Aurora’s kiss a comforting benediction, reminding him of all he had to come home to, and he replied, “What makes you think that I am?” He shook his head, “Doesn’t really feel like I’m even here, honestly.”

Mav good-naturedly smirked, “You left your heart in San Diego?”

Tom side-eyed his wingman. “Yeah, actually.

You’ll understand it one day, when you meet the right one,” he sighed, thinking of his wife’s beautiful smile.

“I dunno, Ice, I’m not sure if I want to be you, or be thankful that I’m not.”

Tom scoffed, unable to help his grin. “It’s the worst feeling in the world, to be away from her, to exist without her, after knowing what it’s like to be with her—”

“Not exactly selling it, Kazansky,” Mav interrupted.

Tom rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t done, dickhead.”

At Mav’s grin, Tom continued, “As I was saying, it’s the worst feeling in the world, to be away from her, to exist without her, after knowing what it’s like to be with her, but knowing that I get to come home to her… that makes it all worth it.

I hope you get this someday, Mav.

You sure as hell deserve some fucking happiness in this life.”

Mav smiled weakly, but honestly. “Maybe one day, Ice.”

The two of them smiled at each other, before Tom clapped Mav on the shoulder. “We better get going—the guys should be awake now, and if we don’t get to mess, Slider and Merlin might just take all the good stuff.”

“Good is relative,” Mav scoffed, making him laugh.

“Okay—the better stuff.”

They laughed, beginning to make their way back in.

But just before he stepped through the door amidships, he couldn’t help but look back at the horizon, the sun shedding the last of its dawning gentility, to turn into the harsh, blazing light that it was in this part of the world.

Eighty-four days.

Eighty-four more sunrises holding her only in his heart until he could also hold her in his arms.

It was a high price, to be sure, but in the face of having eternity as hers, what was eighty-four days?

Until then, he’d count the sunrises, holding her close to his heart.

“Hey Ice, you coming?” Mav called.

“I’m coming,” he replied.

And with that, he stepped inside to do his duty, eagerly awaiting the next sunrise, each consecutive one bringing him closer to his home, to his beloved wife.

I headcanon Ice as having Russian descent, but quite frankly, you can tear Slavic!Ice from my cold, dead hands.

To me, he’s either Polish or Russian.

Russian Glossary

Disclaimer: endearments and translations taken from Google—please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong, which, odds are, I am.

Lyubimaya moya: my darling/my one and only sweetheart

Solnishko: little sun

Zhizn moya: my life

#officially in my val kilmer era #not me 👀 at men literally old enough to be my father #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer

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friendly-neighborhood-furry · 4 months

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sometimes the state of the world makes me want to go outside and scream as loud as i can for help. sometimes it makes me want to crawl deep into a hole and never come back out again. sometimes it makes me want to fall to my knees and sob uncontrollably. sometimes it seems so hopeless that i cant see any better alternative other than just disappearing.

so much evil and destruction and suffering-- and for what?

what is it all for?

for the latest popular billionare to take a 13 minute flight? for the newest remake of a movie that changed my life to get turned into mindless sludge? for a never-before-seen species of animal to be discovered, then pronounced extinct the very next week? for millions of people to go broke for having cancer?

i tell my mother that i wont be able to afford a house. she says "no, you will." i tell my counselor that my government wants to kill me. she says "that's not true." i tell my teachers i don't see a point in doing well in school because i wont be able to get a job anyway, even if i have a college degree. they tell me "no, you'll get a job. school is still important." i email my senators begging them to stop funding the genocide in Palestine. i get a copy-pasted email back with a history lesson about why that wont happen. one million people died from COVID last Christmas and i'm the only one at my school still wearing a mask. my future as an artist was ripped from my hands in less than two years and pretty soon i wont be able to share anything about my art at all. i'm half mexican, but everybody says i'm "too white" to be a "real mexican". its been four years and i'm nowhere closer to understanding my gender identity than i was at the start. tumblr has been my only safe space for three years and now that KOSA might pass this week, where will i go?

and all the while, through all of this conflict-- people are still falling in love for the first time and rescuing kittens off the street and watching their children take their first steps and getting married and making fun little indie games and building elaborate cosplays of their favorite character and making the most heart-touchingly beautiful pieces of art you've ever seen and meeting lifelong friends and cooking amazingly delicious food and playing children's games and weaving baskets from pine needles and taking care of livestock and collecting little knick-knacks and having the best day of their lives and writing their first line of code and learning to play instruments and hatching baby birds and posting a 100K word thesis about a show they really like and uploading song covers for 19 people on Youtube to listen to and pushing the boundaries of what science can accomplish and discussing moral philosophies in the comment section of a Reddit post and feeling truly seen in the eyes of another human being for the first time in their lives and growing old surrounded by the people they love.

the future is uncertain, but the world will go on. the winds will still blow and the tides will still flow. people will continue to find joy in this hell and fight for it with everything they have.

so don't give up.

"don't give up," i tell myself.

"don't give up," i tell you.

"don't give up," i scream into the sky.

there is always something to keep going for. if you cannot find it in yourself, find it in others. find it in the people in your life and the people you see online. find it in the good of humanity you know to exist.

find it. keep fighting. don't give up.

#at the end of it all i do consider myself a poet #if this reaches even one person #and gives them the strength to keep going #i would consider it a success #tomothy rambles #serious post #gen z #capitalism #climate change #palestine #free palestine #lgbtqia+#queer #trans #vent #mental health #anxiety #depression

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melefim · 24 days

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Dead Boy Detectives full soundtrack!

(Or at least all the ones I could find)

I’ve seen several soundtrack playlists floating around, but unfortunately a lot have other songs added or are missing some that were used in the show, so I went ahead and made my own!

Below the cut is a full listing of when each song was used during the show, timestamped as accurately as I could manage.

Please let me know if there are any songs I missed, and I’ll add them ASAP! Score will be added if/when it’s released. If anyone would be interested in separate posts for each episode, let me know and I’ll get right on it!

Enjoy!

🎥Promotional🎥:

“Psychobilly Bandits” by Alibi Music: Teaser trailer

“Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance: Full trailer

“Young and in Love” by Fast Forward Romance: Meet the Characters teaser

🔮The Case of Crystal Palace🔮:

“Doorman” by slowthai, Mura Masa: Hotel hallway chase scene. (2:33-2:47)

“Hang on to Yourself” by David Bowie: Prep for Crystal’s case. (11:59-12:30)

“Bad Feeling” by Cobra Man: What Crystal is listening to on her headphones in the subway before the David the Demon fight. (12:36-13:04)

“I’m Telling Your Mum” by Danny Farrant, Paul Rawson: Jenny’s introduction. (21:46-22:44)

“It’s Not Unusual” by Tom Jones: In the Malt shop after they find Esther’s house and after Crystal sees David the Demon. (26:42-27:38, 29:24-29:47)

“Bones of Rock” by The Boneless Ones: In the background during Crystal and Jenny’s talk in the alley. (34:03-35:07)

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Crystal meeting Niko. (36:39-36:51)

“Deal Wiv It” by Mura Masa, slowthai (instrumental): Meeting David the Demon flashback. (38:36-39:10)

“So What?” by NOISY (instrumental): Planning Becky’s rescue in the butcher shop. (41:34-42:19)

“White Teeth” by The Screaming Gypsy Bandits: Record playing inside Esther’s house. (43:33-44:30)

“Surfing in the Sky” by The Vaccines: Fight in Esther’s front yard. (49:08-49:50)

“Missing” by slowthai (instrumental): Sending Becky home, heading back to the butcher shop. (51:23-52:34)

🌼The Case of the Dandelion Shrine🌼:

“Take the Rest of Me” by Brocklesby Crooke: Dandelion sprites- Niko faints outside the bathroom and attracts attention in the butcher shop. (12:48-12:52, 28:29-28:57)

“Natural Successor” by Pictish Trail: Turning Monty human. (47:22-49:16)

🪓The Case of the Devlin House🪓:

“Free Tonight” by Skymachine: Charles & Crystal walk into butcher shop, just a few bars on radio before anchor talks about the storm. (8:13-8:15)

“Oceans” by The Yada Yada Yadas: on radio after anchor talks about the storm while Charles and Crystal are asking Jenny about the Devlin murders. (8:21-8:50)

“Owner of a Lonely Heart” by Yes: Devlin house time loop, repeated multiple times. (First full loop 19:06-21:09. Loop repeats: 21:31-23:05, 23:36-24:38, 25:02-25:35, 26:52-27:17, 29:04-29:55, 30:22-31:24, 33:17-34:30, 34:34-35:35, 35:48-37:01, 37:18-38:55, 39:28-40:50. Final loop: 42:23-42:36)

🌊The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers🌊:

“RoMaNcE” by ShitKid: Jenny reading letter from her secret admirer, gets rent from the girls. (1:16-2:40)

“Fire Escape” by Nine One One: Jenny reading letter before finding the Night Nurse upstairs. (29:06-29:32)

“The Wellerman” (original music box version): Charles winds up music box, hits Night Nurse with it, kicks her into Angie. (43:07-43:49)

“Young Blood- White Sea Remix” by The Naked and Famous, White Sea: End of episode- Niko starts to read letters from mother, Charles and Crystal kiss, end credits. (48:22-50:59)

🐉The Case of the Two Dead Dragons 🐉:

“Thunder” by ZEE MACHINE: Interviewing students about Brad & Hunter. (14:24-15:11)

“Apocalypse” by Cigarettes After Sex: Jenny and Maxine mid-date. (26:54-28:04)

“Melting” by Kali Uchis: Jenny and Maxine late date until stalker reveal. (36:25-38:10)

“Disorder” by Joy Division: End credits. (49:49-50:41)

🍄The Case of the Creeping Forest🍄:

“Who’s Ur Girl?” By The Mysterines: Niko redecorates her room. (1:15-1:29)

“The Wellerman” (original Music box version): Sea calming music box, playing inside Angie. (13:45-14:07, 15:35-15:49)

“A.T.T.A.C.K” by Arre! Arre!: Niko tries to get Jenny to forgive her in the butcher shop. (20:49-21:57)

“Shakedown” by Infamous Stiffs: End credits. (51:17-52:11)

🕷️The Case of the Very Long Stairway🕷️:

“Under the Milky Way” by The Church: Charles’ memories of his death. (11:06-13:15)

“Dinner Jazz” by Tony Kinsey: Limbo/Hotel lobby in Hell. (17:27-18:27, 44:13-44:30)

“Revolution Action” by Atari Teenage Riot: David turns on lights and music in abandoned bowling alley. (30:20-30:48)

“Window Shopping” by Robert Foster: Gluttony/Café when exiting Hell. (43:13-43:35)

“Circle In The Sand” by Belinda Carlisle: Jenny singing in Crystal’s head while possessed. (31:43-33:50)

“Burning” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Monty flies away from rooftop, Esther works on her machine, Jenny sleeps while Niko looks at Cursed Magic 8 ball, Night Nurse knocks on supervisor’ door, Crystal eats first memory marble, end credits. (52:37-55:16)

🐍The Case of the Hungry Snake🐍 :

“Standing In The Way of Control” by Gossip: Crystal’s first memory marble. (1:18-2:04)

“I’m What You Want” by Walt Disco: Crystal Club fight memory. (8:35-8:48)

“When I’m Gone” by Ging: Crystal says goodbye and leaves the butcher shop. (16:18-18:13)

“Sleeping On Grassy Ground” by The Heavy Heavy: Charles and Edwin wake up in Esther’s house. (25:55-27:43)

“Who’s Sorry Now” by Connie Francis: Niko and Crystal break into Esther’s house. (30:35-31:17)

“Loss & Relax” by Black Belt Eagle Scout: Talking in Niko’s room. (40:44-42:59)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detective ones here!

When Charles’ shirt color changes

George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board

Moves, Incidents, and Cases masterlist

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives Netflix #dead boy detectives soundtrack #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #music #soundtrack #Spotify #netflix #renew dead boy detectives #dbda playlist #compiled by me

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materialsscienceandengineering · 1 month

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All wound up: A clearer look at electric guitar pickups

The electric guitar has been a core element of popular music for much of the past century. Pickups are the components that turn vibrations from the strings into electricity for sound and can be seen as the "heart" of the instrument. Electric guitarists have long known that the magnetic force from pickups affects the quality of their sound and how smoothly the sound transitions, known as timbre. Takuto Yudasaka, visiting scholar at McGill University and researcher at Yamaha, present their work on the physics behind electric guitar pickups Wednesday, May 15, at 10:30 a.m. EDT as part of a joint meeting of the Acoustical Society of America and the Canadian Acoustical Association, held May 13–17 at the Shaw Center located in downtown Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. "In electric guitars, the vibration of a magnetized string generates an electric current in the pickup coil," said Yudasaka. "This current is very weak, but by winding the coil thousands of times, more signal can be detected."

#Materials Science #Science #Music #Magnetism #Electronics

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zoesblogsposts · 5 months

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o 625 words to know in your target language o

There is a really interesting blog called "Fluent Forever" that aids foreign language learners in tricks, tips and techniques to guide them to achieving fluency "quickly" and efficiently. One of the tricks is to learn these 625 vocab words in your target language, that way you have a basis to start delving into grammar with ease as you can understand a lot of vocab right off the bat. Plus this list of words are common across the world and will aid you in whatever language you are learning. Here is the list in thematic order

• Animal: dog, cat, fish, bird, cow, pig, mouse, horse, wing, animal

• Transportation: train, plane, car, truck, bicycle, bus, boat, ship, tire, gasoline, engine, (train) ticket, transportation

• Location: city, house, apartment, street/road, airport, train station, bridge hotel, restaurant, farm, court, school, office, room, town, university, club, bar, park, camp, store/shop, theater, library, hospital, church, market, country (USA,

France, etc.), building, ground, space (outer space), bank, location

• Clothing: hat, dress, suit, skirt, shirt, T-shirt, pants, shoes, pocket, coat, stain, clothing

• Color: red, green, blue (light/dark), yellow, brown, pink, orange, black, white, gray, color

• People: son, daughter, mother, father, parent (= mother/father), baby, man, woman, brother, sister, family, grandfather, grandmother, husband, wife, king, queen, president, neighbor, boy, girl, child (= boy/girl), adult (= man/woman), human (# animal), friend (Add a friend's name), victim, player, fan, crowd, person

• Job: Teacher, student, lawyer, doctor, patient, waiter, secretary, priest, police, army, soldier, artist, author, manager, reporter, actor, job

• Society: religion, heaven, hell, death, medicine, money, dollar, bill, marriage, wedding, team, race (ethnicity), sex (the act), sex (gender), murder, prison, technology, energy, war, peace, attack, election, magazine, newspaper, poison, gun, sport, race (sport), exercise, ball, game, price, contract, drug, sign, science, God

• Art. band, song, instrument (musical), music, movie, art

• Beverages: coffee, tea, wine, beer, juice, water, milk, beverage

• Food: egg, cheese, bread, soup, cake, chicken, pork, beef, apple, banana orange, lemon, corn, rice, oil, seed, knife, spoon, fork, plate, cup, breakfast, lunch, dinner, sugar, salt, bottle, food

• Home: table, chair, bed, dream, window, door, bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, pencil, pen, photograph, soap, book, page, key, paint, letter, note, wall, paper, floor, ceiling, roof, pool, lock, telephone, garden, yard, needle, bag, box, gift, card, ring, tool

• Electronics: clock, lamp, fan, cell phone, network, computer, program (computer), laptop, screen, camera, television, radio

• Body: head, neck, face, beard, hair, eye, mouth, lip, nose, tooth, ear, tear (drop), tongue, back, toe, finger, foot, hand, leg, arm, shoulder, heart, blood, brain, knee, sweat, disease, bone, voice, skin, body

• Nature: sea, ocean, river, mountain, rain, snow, tree, sun, moon, world, Earth, forest, sky, plant, wind, soil/earth, flower, valley, root, lake, star, grass, leaf, air, sand, beach, wave, fire, ice, island, hill, heat, nature

• Materials: glass, metal, plastic, wood, stone, diamond, clay, dust, gold, copper, silver, material

• Math/Measurements: meter, centimeter, kilogram, inch, foot, pound, half, circle, square, temperature, date, weight, edge, corner

• Misc Nouns: map, dot, consonant, vowel, light, sound, yes, no, piece, pain, injury, hole, image, pattern, noun, verb, adjective

• Directions: top, bottom, side, front, back, outside, inside, up, down, left, right, straight, north, south, east, west, direction

• Seasons: Summer, Spring, Winter, Fall, season

• Numbers: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 21, 22, 30, 31, 32, 40, 41, 42, 50, 51, 52, 60, 61, 62, 70, 71, 72, 80, 81, 82, 90, 91, 92, 100, 101, 102, 110, 111, 1000, 1001, 10000, 100000, million, billion, 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, number

• Months: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December

• Days of the week: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

• Time: year, month, week, day, hour, minute, second, morning, afternoon, evening, night, time

• Verbs: work, play, walk, run, drive, fly, swim, go, stop, follow, think, speak/say, eat, drink, kill, die, smile, laugh, cry, buy, pay, sell, shoot(a gun), learn, jump, smell, hear (a sound), listen (music), taste, touch, see (a bird), watch (TV), kiss, burn, melt, dig, explode, sit, stand, love, pass by, cut, fight, lie down, dance, sleep, wake up, sing, count, marry, pray, win, lose, mix/stir, bend, wash, cook, open, close, write, call, turn, build, teach, grow, draw, feed, catch, throw, clean, find, fall, push, pull, carry, break, wear, hang, shake, sign, beat, lift

• Adjectives: long, short (long), tall, short (vs tall), wide, narrow, big/large, small/little, slow, fast, hot, cold, warm, cool, new, old (new), young, old (young), weak, dead, alive, heavy, light (heavy), dark, light (dark), nuclear, famous

#second language #language #learning #rory gilmore #smart #tips

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hachubelash · 9 months

Text

So, I decided that it was worth telling about my fan character. Thanks to @hornets-nest666 for the commissions!!!

Her name is Daisy. She is 13 years old. She lives with her uncle in a small town, who runs a small business - an antique shop. Daisy has no friends because the town is inhabited by predators, most often wolves, and she and her uncle are the only sheep here. But then Bendy and Boris visited this town. Daisy became friends with Boris because they both love Mickey Mouse and playing wind instruments. Boris gave Daisy the nickname Fluffy because she is very fluffy. When the time came to leave the city, Boris promised to write letters to Daisy so that she would not get bored. They are very good friends, and Daisy is really looking forward to Boris, so she can play with him again and just see him.

#overlee #babtqftim #babtqftim boris #babtqftim oc

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envysnest · 3 months

Text

Snakeskin (Sephiroth/Reader) (ch. 12/?)

AO3 / Pillowfort

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14

Tags: First Time, Reader-Insert, Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Frank Discussions of Past Rape/Abuse, Everyone is Queer, Canon-Compliant (if you squint), Pre-Crisis-Core Seph, Slow Burn, i continue to disappoint my friends and family, sephiroth is a virgin and in this essay i will, Reader is a Cis Woman, fluffy sex, Praise Kink, Gratuitous Biochemistry

Summary:

You are a young biologist, fresh out of graduate school, working in Shinra's R&D Division under Professor Hojo. You had long since given up on finding a partner and starting a family, preferring instead the company of your cell samples and your scientific instruments.

As the conflict in Wutai worsens, you strike up an unexpected friendship with a First Class SOLDIER.

(Sephiroth/Reader Slow Burn)

No trigger warnings apply for this chapter.

—

The tights fit perfectly. The black fabric was opaque; it even covered the bottom of your Lifestream tattoo. You cursed yourself for buying something so incredibly decadent. There was no going back to the drugstore tights after this. These would be perfect, except…

Were you supposed to wear underwear under these? Over them? You felt strangely bare. You stood on your bed and squinted across the room at your bathroom mirror.

The Shinra-co. Sunrise ™ clock read 6:45 PM. You were going to be late if you kept fussing. No choice: you would have to brave Midgar with nothing under your skirt. Guilt and shame twisted your gut, and you pulled your coat on with a grimace.

It’s for me, you thought. It’s not for him.

You stared at your craft bench, at the iron wing you made earlier that week. Deep down, you wanted to seduce him into bed again. You wanted the lightning to strike twice; you wanted to burn. If you dressed yourself in the same way— if you had these stupid, expensive tights underneath your skirt this time— then maybe…

Genesis’s angry face flashed in your mind. You felt that same sick, sinking feeling from the training videos. It was rare to see SOLDIERs with injuries; whatever had hit him had hit hard. Whatever hit him would've surely killed you.

It was windy outside, and below freezing. A breeze teased at the hem of your skirt. You shoved it back down and glanced around. Everyone else waited for taxis or seemed preoccupied with their friends. You turned towards Shinra’s familiar silhouette against the cloudy sky. If you walked fast enough, you’d be right on time.

A couple, hand-in-hand. meandered down the sidewalk in front of you. You hesitantly inched past them. You pulled your coat tightly around yourself, but this turned you into a wobbling, upright caterpillar. You loosened your grip; the wind threatened your skirt again. Back to the caterpillar. This, of course, made your overnight bag slide dangerously down your arm. The air smelled like frost and mako.

Plink. That was probably Sephiroth, wondering where you were. You swore and picked up your pace. You shouldn’t have fussed so much about the tights.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them at all.

You automatically looked up at the next intersection, expecting to see the defaced poster, but it was already gone. A few Shinra workers, bundled and masked against the cold, straightened a pale-blue Potion poster over it instead. A foreman shouted instructions from the sidewalk.

The crosswalk light flashed red. The crowd in front of you lurched to a stop. You dug around in your pocket and woke up your phone, hiding its screen from the people waiting next to you:

>> Double booked. Work again

“Oh,” you said to yourself. The crowd around you began walking forward; you stayed behind.

Your phone chimed. Sephiroth again:

>>So so sorry……

And again:

>>Will return asap but may be tmw

You darted towards an expensive building and ducked under its awning. Here, at least, the wind was broken, and you were out of the way of evening traffic. Thank goodness your gloves were smartphone-compatible, even if they did nothing against this biting cold. You tucked yourself against an enormous decorative hedge. The doorman eyed you with suspicion as you typed:

>>Don’t be sorry!|

You hesitated, staring at the blinking cursor. You continued:

>>Don’t be sorry! I’m on my way any|

You backspaced and tried again:

>>Don’t be sorry! Need a house sitter?

It sounded kinder than Can I please go into your apartment it is SO cold and I’m exposed to the elements here. Before you could second-guess yourself, you hit Send.

An ellipsis bubble appeared immediately.

“Ma’am?” said the doorman.

“I’m sorry,” you said to him, holding up a finger. “Just one second.”

He grunted and resumed his glum forward stare.

Plink. A new message:

>> No sitting needed. It’s yours

Your reply:

>>Thanks, but I don’t want to mooch

You tapped your foot while you waited for his response. Sure enough, you didn’t have to wait long:

>>Don’t burn it down and we’ll call it even.

>>Ha ha

You sighed in relief and resumed your brisk walk down the street. You typed:

>>I’ll wait there for you!

Sephiroth’s reply to this was blindingly fast:

>>Tease.

You shivered and hid your smile in your scarf. You were close to Sector 0 now, and the Saturday night crowd buzzed around you. A line snaked around the Loveless theater, ending at where black-clad theater employees clipped everyone's tickets and looked through their bags.

Your phone chimed again. Balancing your overnight bag on one thigh, you woke your phone and peered down at the screen.

Sephiroth had sent a winking emoticon.

—

You touched the key FOB to 4301. The lock sang a small tune before it clicked open. As you shuffled through the door, Sephiroth’s familiar smell hit you all at once: comforting, warm, a soft touch to your cheek.

“Hello?” you called.

Sterile hallway light spilled into the dark apartment; you could just make out the marble coffee table, the couch, part of the bookshelves. The curtains were drawn. You passed your gloved hand over the wall until you felt a smooth, plastic switch. At your touch, it chimed happily, and all of the apartment’s lights came up at once.

Nothing seemed particularly different, save the eerie silence. You closed the front door behind you and kicked off your shoes. There were still piles of books everywhere; if any had been moved since last weekend, it was impossible to tell. The fireplace and television were off. Automatically, you looked to the top of the bookshelves: Masamune was gone. There were no flowers on the coffee table. No one had been here for a while.

You put your phone in your skirt pocket. “Seph?” you said. No reply. The wooden floor was cool under your stockings; had it always been that way? You couldn’t remember.

Gloves went into your jacket pockets; the jacket went onto the hangers (empty, save for a black golf umbrella). You pulled out your phone and sent Sephiroth a message:

>>Here! All looks very unburnt to me

You hesitated, then sent a smiling emoticon, too.

You tossed your overnight bag forward, onto the grey carpet, where it landed with a whumph. Everything was still, and you could hear your own breathing. You leaned over the bar counter and looked into the kitchen. The washing machine and dryer sat empty; the dishwasher simply said READY.

The refrigerator was half-empty, save for the mako samples. A few pre-made meals sat at eye-level: Shinra MREs, cold little bento boxes with rice and sticky tofu in sterile, tidy compartments. A few lonely oranges rolled around at the bottom of a produce basket. Nearly all of the lush, fresh produce from the weekend before was gone. The mako bottles clinked as you closed the refrigerator.

You poured yourself a glass of that eerily-tasteless water, drank it in a few gulps, and set the empty glass down on the marble countertop. Being in this kitchen felt like entering a haunted house: there were warm memories here once, but they were long gone.

Your therapist had smiled as you recounted— with names and details removed— the story of last weekend. Rather than meet her eyes, you spent the session staring at your shoes. That’s amazing! she had said, warm and effusive, and even now, you feel embarrassed.

What would it feel like to enjoy yourself? she had asked. To trust him?

You pulled absently at your blouse. You had spent all this time getting ready for him; he hadn’t specified when he was coming back. Shouldn’t you wait and see when he’d be here, and be ready for him when he did?

After moving the glass to the sink, you turned and walked to the bedroom. There had been a way to turn the lights off from Sephiroth’s phone, but the light switch next to the front door seemed to control the entire apartment. The bedroom, tidy and well-lit, waited for its sole occupant with bated breath. The bed was neatly made, its duvet smoothed over. There were a few books missing from next to the bed; the biology textbook had migrated to the armchair in the corner.

Your hands hesitated at the closet doors. You had only briefly seen into Sephiroth’s closet while watching him change. Instinctively, your eyes flicked up to the spackled wall, where the awards had once hung. There wasn’t much storage space elsewhere, besides a few drawers on each nightstand. Anything you hadn’t seen before was likely in here.

The closet doors groaned as you pushed one door aside, then the other. The entire closet was only several feet deep, yet it spanned nearly the length of the wall. To your right were hanging uniforms: pants and sweaters, folded neatly on their hangers, next to some button-up shirts. You recognized the pants Sephiroth had worn to the holiday party; then again, they all looked like the same pants, variations on SOLDIER standard khaki and navy. Maroon luggage trunks and cardboard boxes were piled haphazardly on a shelf above the hangers; one turquoise trunk sat below. You tried the lid, found it loose, and opened it, but the velvet-lined interior was empty. In the far corner, you could make out an ironing board propped against the wall.

In front of you, stretching to your left, were several wooden dressers. Their sparse, generic design reminded you of the GU dorms; there weren’t even drawer pulls. You opened one drawer and looked inside: jeans and sweatpants. The one below: thermals, mostly in dark colors. The one above that: T-shirts. Every item was folded neatly.

You carded through the T-shirt options, which were many and grim. Born To Ride, said a cartoon dog on a motorcycle. A pair of skeletons lounging on beach chairs, clinking margarita glasses. A cartoon, muscled torso, wearing flowery board-shorts. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief. After an exhaustive search, you settled for a blue-and-green tie-dye shirt, with seagulls flying into a bright sunset. The looping font read COSTA DEL SOL 1998.

You pressed the shirt to your nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled of his laundry detergent, the very same he had used on your clothes. Last Sunday, when you had returned home, you had tucked your date-night outfit into the back of a drawer. Over the week, you pulled the blouse out and pressed it to your nose, let the memory wash over you. A wild part of you thought that smell was all you’d have to remember him by.

You turned and tossed the shirt onto the bed behind you. The other dresser held fresh linens: crisp white sheets, a few blankets. You pulled out the black weighted blanket again and set it on the ground.

Sitting atop one dresser was a small, worn wooden picture frame. The photo inside, in faded color, showed a single woman looking at the camera. Her dark brown eyes looked straight down the lens, the barest hint of a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. Her head was held high. Creases marred the photo: clearly it had been folded, then re-folded, many times, perhaps to fit into a pocket.

Who was this?

You carefully picked up the frame and brought the faded photo into the light. A past lover, maybe? No: Sephiroth had said his past paramours were all men. Its grimy pastels suggested age: twenty, maybe thirty years. Perhaps it was someone who raised him?

Oh, but no— you recognized those gentle, inquisitive eyes, that soft mouth, the fall of straight hair over her shoulders. You sat cross-legged on the carpet next to the blanket, studying the photo. This was someone related to Sephiroth. You stared at the tidy creases, how they surrounded and protected her face from damage. This photo had been hidden somewhere special, right where he would see it every day.

But hadn’t his mother died?

You ran your fingertips over the glass, gently tracing her face over and over again. It was strange, you thought, that he would have this photo. Why would she have carried a photo of herself? His father had left, and quickly, too; why would he relinquish her photo with Shinra? His story didn’t suggest more than a nameless mother and father: no relatives, nowhere to go, at Shinra’s mercy for the perpetual favor he now owed them. The moment he was born, his family disintegrated. No one could have given him this photo, but there was no one else this could possibly be.

Then where did this come from?

CLUNK.

You gasped and turned towards the door. You half-expected Sephiroth to be there, staring at you angrily as you pawed through his personal belongings.

The doorway was empty.

Your blood roared in your ears; you could taste metal on your tongue. You leaned forward, trying to see into the kitchen beyond, but it was empty, too, just as you left it. You pressed your back to the dresser and curled into a small ball, staring hard at the open doorway.

Plink. Your phone, still in your back pocket.

You reached for it, but you were still holding the photo. Bracing yourself against the dresser, you rose to your feet. It took you several tries to set the photo upright where it had come from. Surely there was someone-- or something-- in the apartment you were now responsible for.

Phone. Phone first. Still staring at the doorway, you reached for your phone. The Shinra messaging app, with Sephiroth’s name at the top of your notifications list:

>>Confirmed out until tmw. Sent dinner. Sorry again

You read the message over again. Your heart raced behind your ribs; you gently rubbed your chest with your free hand. It was only when the scent of hot peppers hit you that you remembered the dumbwaiter in the kitchen, the awful noise it made when it reached Sephiroth’s cabinets.

You left everything behind as you tread warily into the hall beyond. The hot pepper smell became more intense. “Seph?” you asked, just to make sure you were alone. Silence. Your skin crawled as you craned your neck, looking towards the living room beyond—

Nothing. Empty.

A billow of warm steam hit your face when you opened the dumbwaiter. Inside were several plastic bags, tied neatly at their tops, straining against takeout containers. You took each out, one at a time, setting them on the counter below.

You opened the first container and understood, instantly, what Sephiroth had sent you: Wutaian cuisine, far too much, and all of it steaming-hot. There were several types of rice, both fried and plain; noodles with shrimp, noodles with fish sauce, noodles with chicken and beef and pork; an assortment of steamed vegetables, buns, and grilled dishes, more than you could count; more food still that you didn’t even register. Fried bananas with ice cream; red bean buns. Every container filled to bursting; all of it smelling heavenly. You stood there, blinking at the assortment of food before you. There had to be enough for you to eat for a week.

Something tightened in your chest. You took a picture with your phone and sent it to him.

>>Youre so generous!! I can’t eat all this hahaha

Sephiroth replied immediately:

>>Then save some for me. It’s my favorite.

A small price to pay, you thought.

>>what do i owe u??

An ellipses bubble blinked into existence. Then: Plink.

>>A detailed review... Ha ha

A small price, indeed. Perhaps too small.

—

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself on Saturday. The apartment was still empty and quiet. Dark, gloomy sheets of rain came down over Midgar. The floors were warm again; heated, you thought.

Sephiroth’s dresser yielded another, marginally-less garish T shirt to wear (several seagulls wearing sunglasses and flower necklaces). It practically reached to mid-thigh on you. After dressing and making yourself coffee, you wandered over to the fireplace, but there wasn’t a clear way to switch it on. You felt around the edges until, at its base, you found a small black button. There was a long hiss from behind the glass. Just as you began to worry about burning the building down, blue flames leapt up and settled into place.

You browsed the bookshelves for something to read. Restitution to Nature: The Growth of the Wutaian Resistance Movement. The War for Grain. Several biographies on people you had never heard of. You skipped over a few shelves, trying to figure out Sephiroth’s organizing system. Yes, there, on the bottom shelves: novels, in every genre imaginable. There was the Cosmo Canyon Mystery series, each of its volumes bound in beautiful red cloth. First editions, too, with pages so yellowed and fragile, you didn’t dare flip through them.

In the end, you looked through the coffee table books on the Ancients. Plenty of jewelry ideas in here: small wire figures, cave carvings, symbols of forgotten deities. The apartment’s silence became unnerving, so you turned on the television. You washed your clothes from the night before in the Shinra-co washing machine. The rain stopped, started, stopped again. You heated up some leftover takeout rice and picked at it. The dumbwaiter brought groceries, and you put them away on Sephiroth’s behalf. The bottles of wine, all looking precariously expensive, didn’t seem to have a home, so you left the reds on the kitchen counter and laid the white in the fridge, next to the MREs. As the sun sank lower in the sky, you put on a documentary about a radio telescope. The dryer chimed impatiently; you opened and closed the door to silence it. Back on the couch, you curled up under the weighted blanket and re-started the movie you had fallen asleep during last weekend. This time, you stayed awake through it all, straight through to the dramatic kiss at the end. You peeled a clementine and licked the juice from your fingers.

When the streetlights came on below, you began to realize Sephiroth might not return. You checked your phone, but there were no messages. Nothing left for it but to shower and eventually fall asleep in front of the television. At least Sephiroth’s apartment was quiet.

You couldn’t place the odd, homesick yearning that tugged at you when you realized you’d go back to yours tomorrow, and work the day after that. If only you could stay at this apartment every night; the sleep you got here was so total and all-encompassing without traffic or loud neighbors to disturb you. The apartment was kept at a perfect 25-degrees Celsius at all times. You felt…

Safe. That was the word.

You took a shower with the water set to scalding temperatures. The bathroom filled with steam. You brought your own soap with you, too shy to think of taking from him, but curiosity won out: The half-empty bottle of body wash smelled just like his bed. There it was again, that safe feeling, so at odds with the videos and the poster. So at odds with everything.

But not at odds with the photograph inside his closet. Not at odds with the books under his bed. You felt, more and more often, that you were looking at two different people.

You dried off and secured your hair out of your face. Back in the living room, with a white towel wrapped around your body, you hunted through the bookshelves. A novel called Again and Again looked interesting enough: a forbidden romance between a troubled artist and a planetology ingenue at a Cosmo Canyon university. You brought this into the bathroom and set it aside on a small wooden side table next to the bath. As the hot water ran, you thought about digging into one of the red wine bottles from the groceries. Would he mind?

A horrible thought occurred to you: to anger him, to see where those two different people— the Sephiroth you knew, the Sephiroth everyone else saw— merged into terrifying oneness. It was an impulse to not just open the wine bottle, but to shatter it against the same counter you sat on a week ago. You wanted to shatter all of them.

You wanted—

You walked to the kitchen, opened one of the red wine bottles, and poured yourself a glass. Back in the bathroom, you pulled the side table to within arm’s reach of the bathtub.

You sank into the warm water gratefully, sighing. Under the bright lights of the bathroom, you could see your body under the gently-undulating water. The Lifestream tattoo appeared to swim and wobble. Fragile came to mind, then you smelled his soap on your skin again and thought, breakable.

Don’t think about that, you chided yourself. Just relax. The irony of just relax: the longer you thought of relaxing things (beautiful, perfect data; the sun shining over Midgar; finding scrap in your old neighborhood in the slums), the more tense you became. You snatched up the wine glass and took a too-deep gulp. It was a cabernet blend, and a dry one. The alcohol scorched your throat on the way down, but you drank more, anyway. You were going to relax and enjoy this, even if it took substances to get you there.

You would relax. You would.

You picked up the novel and began to read.

Go to next chapter >>>

#momofics #snakeskin

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beardedmrbean · 6 months

Note

My favorite musical instrument, the shotty

youtube

Dr. Kevin Sedatole conducts Michigan State University Wind Symphony in performance of John Corigliano's "surround sound" masterpiece - Circus Maximus, Symphony No 3. The concert entitled "An Evening With John Corigliano" took place in April 2010 at the Great Hall of the Wharton Center on campus of Michigan State University in East Lansing.

It is impossible to convey an incredible experience that this piece is - wind symphony, 11 trumpets placed around the audience, two French horns on the back of the hall, saxophone quartet and clarinet on the balcony, let alone a small marching band parading around the hall and across the stage, plus a stunning finale with firing of a shotgun!

The piece is performed without breaks, we are happy to bring it to you in its entirety without interruption. In order to jump to a particular movement, please follow the links below I.

Introitus 0:14 II.

Screen/Siren 3:44 III.

Channel Surfing 8:04

IV. Night Music I 13:11

V. Night Music II 19:46

VI. Circus Maximus 23:10

VII. Prayer 27:43 VIII.

Coda: Veritas 33:13

I'd have guessed this was a Peter Schickele production, nice.

I'm gonna have to put this on

#lobo cansado de ojos rojos

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technoturian · 2 years

Photo

RING OF BRASS // RING OF ASH - an eXu calamity playlist

[ Spotify ]

BRASS

01. Zayde Wølf - Golden Age Don't you know that we / We're living in a golden age / Don't you know that we / We're living in a golden age

02. Imagine Dragons - Warriors Here we are, don't turn away now / We are the warriors that built this town

03. [Nydus] Ellie Goulding - Burn We, we don't have to worry about nothing / 'Cause we got the fire, and we're burning one hell of a something / They, they gonna see us from outer space, outer space / Light it up, like we're the stars of the human race, human race

04. K/DA - The Baddest Way that I look should be breaking the law / If I don't got it, I take what I want / My circle small like a round of applause / You know that I love the sound of applause / You know I mean everything that I say / When you see me coming get out of the way / I came to slay, I came to slay / Back and I'm better and ready to stay

05. aeseaes - Plenty Everyone will know our name / Did you know that no two missteps are the same?

06. [Laerryn] Tribe Society - Kings I always wondered how far we could go / If we could break through the ceiling above us / There'd be no point of us looking below / We could be free / We could be free / Finally / We could be free

07. [Loquatius] Vance Joy - Like Gold Gold, when you see me / Hi, if you need me / Babe, that's the way it was / That's the history / Blue, how we used to roar / Like an open fire / That's the way it was / But that's history

08. [Patia] Claire Wyndham - Kingdom Fall Underneath a spotlight / And all the splintered wood / Nothing here is shining / Shining like it should

09. Fall Out Boy - Centuries And just one mistake / Is all it will take / We'll go down in history / Remember me for centuries

ASH

10. Sleeping At Last - Earth Fault lines tremble underneath my glass house / But I put it out of my mind / Long enough to call it courage

11. Bastille - Pompeii Oh, where do we begin? / The rubble or our sins?

12. Mumford & Sons - Broken Crown But oh, my heart was flawed / I knew my weakness / So hold my hand / Consign me not to darkness

13. [Zerxus] Black Math - Flesh and Bone Break the truth inside of me / Climbed down to hell on the devil's tree / I clutched a branch of soot and flame / The thought that rose, to scorch my feet / I walk alone/ Beside myself / Nowhere to go / Ahh, this bleeding heart / That's in my hands / I fell apart

14. The Lumineers - Nightshade We were surrounded and the ending was near / All of the sudden, a ranger arrived, a savior appeared / Made it to safety, but the devil was here, oh no

15. [Cerrit] X Ambassadors - Eye of the Storm I believe in you / I believe in you / It's not over / I will stand in the eye of the storm

16. [Loquatius & Laerryn] Lily Kershaw ft. Goody Grace - Now & Then Remember the rooftop parties / Remember the friends / Remember the way I love you now / And the way I that loved you then

17. Lee DeWyze - Blackbird Song Pack your things / leave somehow / Blackbird song is over now

18. Phlotilla - Don't Fear The Reaper All our times have come / Here but now they're gone / Seasons don't fear the reaper / Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain / We can be like they are

19. CLOVES - Don't Forget About Me I just need to know / That you won't forget about me

20. Ingrid Michaelson - Men of Snow Oh one day you will go / Away from this / Oh one day you will know / We're men of snow / We melt one day

21. Zack Hemsey - End Of An Era (Instrumental)

BONUS 22. [Bolo] Queen - Killer Queen She's a Killer Queen / Gunpowder, gelatine / Dynamite with a laser beam / Guaranteed to blow your mind / Anytime

#Critical Role #Exandria Unlimited #ExU #Exandria Unlimited: Calamity #ExU Calamity #Playlist #Playlists #been working on this for a while

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

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Nobody's Fool: Chapter 10

Pairing: EddieXReader

Summary: You have bartended for years after you were forced to drop out of college due to family circumstances. You have dated your fair share of musicians, had your heart broken by one particular one, and have learned they are not be trusted. You have sworn off of them for the rest of your life. Then, one night, a new band plays at the bar, and against your better judgement, you can't help noticing the lead singer and guitar player. Could he possibly be different from the ones who came before him?

Warnings: 18+ Only due to eventual smut and language. There is also a toxic family relationship with a narcissistic mother if that is triggering for you.

MasterList

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28

Eddie pulled up to his place and you hopped off the bike. You couldn’t stop shivering. He hadn't been joking about a chilly ride. Shoving him in the lake had seemed like a great idea at the time, but the ride back had been anything but. Being exposed to the wind rushing over you, you were shaking so hard that your teeth were chattering.

“Damn, you are shaking like a leaf,” Eddie commented, running his hands up and down your arms, sending those shivers straight through your body again, but this time not from the cold. “Come on. I got some dry clothes you can wear.”

He opened the door and you walked in. He shared a place with his bandmates, Gareth and Jeff. It was a two story, three bedroom house that they rented. It was a nice place, precisely what you’d expect from three guys in their twenties living together. The decor was mostly band posters, D&D, and other nerd stuff. The dining room was their rehearsal space since they mostly ate at the coffee table in the living room anyway. Their instruments and amps sat in the space, a giant Corroded Coffin banner that had been hand painted hanging on the wall behind it. There was a massive DnD table shoved against a wall in the living room with a huge flag pinned above it that said Hellfire Club with some devil creature on it. But overall, you were fairly impressed. It was not as much of a mess as you'd expect.

Gareth was sprawled across the couch, Jeff sitting in a La-Z-boy to the side of it. They were watching the show, Renegade, and both looked up when the two of you walked in. Gareth sat up, looking you over in confusion.

“Why are you guys all wet?” he asked.

“We went canoeing and someone thought it would be funny to push me in,” Eddie explained. “And I couldn’t be the only one who got soaked so we both wound up in the lake.”

Jeff laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, that must have been a cold ass ride back.”

“Yeah. My ass is pretty cold, along with every other part of me,” you muttered, barely getting it out, your teeth knocking together so hard you feared they would crack.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eddie said. “Come up to my room. I’ll get you some dry stuff.”

You followed him upstairs, and suddenly it hit you that you were about to enter his bedroom. Was this going to be the moment? It would be the perfect opportunity for him. He would get you dry clothes, offer to turn around while you changed, but then he would look because oops, of course. Then he would make the move to take things that step further. It was date number four. Wasn’t there like a three date rule or something like that?

If you were being honest with yourself, a part of you was wishing he would. You were dying to see what was under those clothes. You were itching to touch every single inch of him, to feel him so intimately, but you were also scared of it. You feared that if they took that next step with him, took things to that level, that you would lose your heart all over again. You put on a good show. You had a couple one night stands but the truth was, sex had always meant more to you. It was a way to connect with someone, something you had with them that no one else did. Or, at least, it was supposed to be. If you took that leap with Eddie, your heart would be gone and you were terrified of giving him that kind of power.

Eddie entered his room, sweeping his arm out dramatically, gesturing for you to enter. You walked in and were pleasantly surprised. Sure the rest of the house had been fairly picked up but this was his space. It wasn’t filthy like you would expect a single guy’s room to be. It was messy, sure. There were clothes strewn across the floor and his bed was unmade. Did men even know how to make a bed? His walls were papered in posters of a lot of bands you also enjoyed like Black Sabbath, Dio, Iron Maiden, and Judas Priest. You noticed a large poster to the side of his bed that was a map of Middle Earth. An acoustic guitar was hanging on the opposite wall with words painted on it that read ‘This Machine Slays Dragons.’ There was a pretty full ashtray on his nightstand and laying next to it was a pack of condoms. You looked away, not wanting him to notice that you saw them.

Okay, so he kept condoms right there on his nightstand? Was that because he had planned this all along or was it because he needed them so often? Shit, you really didn’t want to care. You didn’t want to dwell on who all Eddie had in his bed before you or since you. Wasn’t that why you were being so careful with him? Wasn’t that exactly why you were trying to keep this casual? What did it matter if he slept around a lot? Didn’t they all sleep around a lot? You didn’t plan on being around for the long haul. It wasn’t your concern.

Eddie began to rush around the room, picking up discarded clothes and dumping them in a laundry basket in the corner as he said, “Sorry about the mess. Maid had the day off and I wasn’t expecting to bring you back here.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. So, those weren’t for you because he'd just admitted he had no intention of bringing you here. When was the last time he had used them? Who had he used them with? No. You shut that thought down. You didn’t care. You refused to think about it. Eddie could be with whoever he wanted. It was none of your business. You had never agreed to be exclusive and why would you? You were just hanging out.

He reached in a drawer and pulled out some sweatpants and a Metallica t-shirt, tossing them onto his bed. He grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt, holding them in his arms.

“Those should work for you. The pants might be a little big but they have a drawstring so you can tighten them. I’ll go change in the bathroom and you can change in here,” he said. “Just come out when you’re done. I’ll go down and make some coffee to warm us up.”

“Okay, thanks,” you answered, completely bewildered, as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

Huh. So, he wasn’t going to use the we’re all wet and need to change our clothes as a move. You weren't sure how you felt about that. On one hand, you were relieved because your self control was quickly waning and sex with him, while a very pleasurable idea, was also nerve wracking as hell. You were barely keeping it together as it was. On the other hand, why wasn’t he trying? He kept asking you out so he was interested in you, wasn't he? Why wasn’t he trying to get in your pants? Was he sleeping with other girls and just hanging out with you? Was that what you were? The girl who got to be girlfriend material but not enough to satisfy him sexually? Well, it wouldn't be the first time for you. That had been the problem with Sebastian, after all.

Ugh. You hated that it bothered you so much. You pulled off your wet clothes and replaced them with his. You glanced around his room, your eyes falling on a corkboard of photos. Walking over, you looked at the pictures. There were a few of the band at a variety of gigs. You recognized his friends who had come to the bar with him in quite a few as well. You smiled as you caught sight of what was obviously a young Eddie, maybe eleven or twelve, standing with an older gentleman who you assumed was his uncle. Eddie had buzzed hair but you'd recognize those eyes and that smile anywhere. You were relieved to see there were no pictures of him with girls, but then scolded yourself immediately because you weren't supposed to be caring about that.

You made your way back downstairs. Gareth and Jeff were in their same positions in the living room, watching their show. You could see Eddie standing in the kitchen so you bypassed them and made your way to him. He was pouring coffee into two mugs and you couldn’t help laughing when you saw them. One said ‘I’m so metal, they won’t let me through airport security.’ The other said ‘I like my coffee darker than the mines of Moria and stronger than a Balrog.’ He turned at the sound of your laugh.

“Yeah. We like sarcastic with our coffee around here. Ladies’ choice?” he said, offering you both mugs.

You took the Lord of the Rings one and took a sip, grateful for the warm cup in your hands and the warm liquid flowing through, chasing away the chill that still inhabited your body. The trembling had finally ceased now that you had warm clothes.

“Warmer?” he asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

“Yeah, thanks,” you answered.

He gestured to the sliding glass door at the back of the house and the two of you headed into the backyard. The sun instantly warmed your skin and you sighed, closing your eyes and soaking it in. Eddie headed over to a small outdoor table so you followed him. You sat, pulling your knees into your chest, still clutching the mug in both hands.

“So, I know your favorite color,” Eddie mused, setting his mug down on the table. “Favorite movie?”

“That’s a toss up between The Neverending Story and the Labyrinth.”

“The Labyrinth?” he laughed. “The one where David Bowie has a mullet, sparkly eyeshadow, and tights?”

“Umm, excuse me, David Bowie is perfection in those tights,” you scoffed, clutching her chest and sighing. “I have always loved Bowie, hence the goldfish name. I was at the theater the night that movie came out, right after senior year. I am shocked my VHS tape hasn't worn out from the amount of times I have watched it. I can quote it word for word. So, don’t you even think about insulting Bowie or Labyrinth.”

“Okay, noted,” Eddie smiled, leaning over the table toward you, his hand hanging over the side, his head tilting in the most adorable way. “Maybe I will have to get myself a pair of those tights then.”

You felt an intense rush of heat make its way through your body and straight to your center. Fuck. You were sure your face, along with every other part of you, was bright red. Holy shit. The thought of him in those tights, the fabric molded to every single detail of his body…Bowie who? That image was pulling you apart at the seams.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, chuckling as he rapped his knuckles across the table. “You should see your face. Sorry. The thought of me in those tights is that scary, huh?”

Yeah, that’s not the word you would use to describe it but there was no way you were sharing your current thoughts with him. Your thoughts were taking you to a very dirty place. So, you just tried to laugh it off, hoping you weren't giving yourself away.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?” you asked, attempting to steer the subject away from him in tights.

“I would have to go with Star Wars,” he answered, leaning back. “I am also a big horror movie guy. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Oh, Halloween,” you answered quickly, not even having to think about it. “No contest. It’s a classic and Michael Myers, best bogeyman ever. And Jamie Lee Curtis, I love her. She is, hands down, the scream queen.”

“That’s a solid choice,” Eddie nodded. “I think if I had to pick, I would go with Nightmare on Elm Street. Freddy Kreuger is just sick. I have to say, I'm impressed. Your movie choices are pretty decent. I would have thought Pretty in Pink. Not that John Hughes doesn’t deliver great movies. I mean, the Breakfast Club is the shit but I thought you’d be more the girl gets the guy and they head off to prom. Isn’t that every girl’s dream moment?”

“Not this girl,” you admitted, shrugging. “I didn’t even go to my prom.”

“What?” Eddie asked, shocked. "Why not?"

“My parents were fighting all the time and every time I tried to talk to my mom about a dress, she said she’d take me to get one. But she never found time. My mom has always struggled to find time for me. She said it was stupid to spend so much money on one night that didn’t matter anyway,” you shrugged. “My friends were avoiding me at that point because I had become someone they didn’t know what to do with. I wasn’t happy and bouncy and excited about boys. They didn’t want to deal with the dark, moody and dysfunctional person I'd become. And what guy was going to want to spend an evening with the depressing chick?” You took another sip of coffee. “I decided it wasn’t worth going. I mean, it’s a stupid school function anyway where people get drunk and have that super special night that’s not at all special because everyone else is doing it anyway. It doesn’t matter. Did you go to your prom?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “It wasn’t anything special.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I didn’t go,” you told him, shrugging one shoulder. “It was years ago at this point. It was just a stupid school dance. I don’t really care.”

“I’m not just saying that,” Eddie scoffed. “It was just a bunch of people trying to hook up, really bad music, and a whole lot of drama. The amount of couples I saw screaming at each other, girls I saw crying, hair I saw pulled, it was ridiculous. I went because Gareth set me up with one of his girlfriend’s friends at the time. He said we couldn’t miss our senior prom, such an epic life event. He was mostly hoping to get laid. The girl he set me up with was annoying as hell. She got super drunk and then cried all over me for half the night about her boyfriend who kissed some other girl. She had no idea who Black Sabbath was but went on and on about Joey Mcintyre and New Kids on the Block. I had never been so happy for a night to be over in my life.”

“I was always more of a Donnie girl, myself,” you admitted with a laugh.

“What?”

“New Kids on the Block, I always thought Donnie was the hottest. He was the bad boy of the group. Joey was too sweet for me,” you told him, tilting your head.

Eddie burst out laughing. “Jesus, not you too.”

“I mean, I still know who Black Sabbath is. Children of the Grave is my favorite of their songs.”

“Okay, you have redeemed yourself slightly, I guess,” he relented, shaking his head at you. “New Kids on the Block, seriously.”

“I mean, I have a very broad taste in music. I listen to a little bit of everything and Covergirl is my jam but rock music is where my heart truly lies,” you said, standing up. “Okay, not to break up the party, but do you think you could give me a ride home? I have to be at work in an hour and a half and I can’t go like this.”

Eddie rose from his chair and came around to you, wrapping one arm around your waist and bopping your nose gently with his finger.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “I think you look adorable.”

“Sweats aren’t generally bar attire. I don’t see myself getting very good tips in these.”

“I would give you an amazing tip,” he stated, kissing you gently. “Because you look hot as hell wearing my clothes. This may have to be your new look from now on because I am loving seeing you in my clothes.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but your insides seized at his words. You did love wearing his clothes. Maybe you would keep this Metallica shirt to wear to work. Then you could keep the scent of him with you all night.

Taglist

@tlclick73 @bebe07011 @emma77645 @corrodedcoffincumslut @babeyglo @kimmi-kat @bblunuh @vintagehellfire @hellfire--cult @avobabe87 @just-a-sewer-goblin @emilyslutface

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #eddie the freak munson #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson fanfic #slow burn

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fereise · 1 month

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The latest tribute for my awesome friend @skykain and their Skaven gals (modern versions) with their ‘Music Bands’ once again, this time featuring the main crews and additional details for their alt-rock and metal (mostly) band called the “Morrslieb.”

Brief story of the band:

It's start when 'Waffle', who had a part-time job in a modern world as DJ decided to team up with 'Martha' and 'Globi' who cover pop & rock songs as their hobby (being a music enthusiast like Waffle, Martha was the one who do this stuff first, Globi like it and join later) and 'Ratly' who is interested in Rock & Metal music in general for making a music band together and play a various kind of "cover songs" and their own songs in nightclubs. The result was great, and the band could be able to made it into bigger stages from times to times. 'Jezza' later join the band, although it takes quite a lot of persuasion for her to join since she's a lonesome type of girl and mostly cooperated and/or tagged along with Martha for personal reasons.

However, Ratly later asked her friends to separate from the band and join the Hard-core gals (Silvia, Packie, Gutty, and later Hilda) creating another band that mainly cover Heavy Metal songs called "The Rodents". The rest of Skryre gals understand her and have no problem with it and she can still return to help her former band for playing drum again for sometimes. As for the empty position, it was replaced by Grinda who unexpectedly offer her help and show her drum skills to everyone.

Positions of the 'core' band members:

1. Warpfire Thrower aka 'Waffle': Turntable, Samples & Programming, Vocals/BGD Vocals, Kbds

2. Poisoned Wind Mortar aka 'Martha': Vocals/BGD Vocals, Gtr (both Rhythm & Lead), Samples

3. Poisoned Wind Globadier aka 'Globi': Keyboard/Keytar, Vocals & Background Vocals, Bass, Guitar (Rhythm), Samples, Occasionally Turntable.

4. Warplock Jezzail aka 'Jezza': Bass, Double Bass/Cello, Addnl string instruments, BGD Vocals

5. Warp-Grinder aka 'Grinda': Drums & Percussion, BGD Vocals, OCC Gtr (Rhythm), Samples & Programming (supports Waffle)

For the most frequent guests:

6. Ratling Gunner aka 'Ratly': Drums & Percussion, BGD Vocals, OCC Gtr

7. Eshin Triads aka 'Tang': Violin/Viola, Addnl string instruments, Vocals/BGD Vocals

8. & 9. Rictus Clan's Stormvermin (Sword & Shield) and Stormvermin (Halberds), aka 'Rebecca & Regina': Gtr (Rhythm) & Bass, BGD Vocals, Troublemakers (screw around on the stage XD), On-Stage guards

10. Gutter Runner aka 'Gutty': Lead Gtr, Vocals/BGD Vocals

11. Pack Master aka 'Packie': Bass, Vocals/BGD Vocals

Other guests:

12. Plague Monk aka 'Plagie': Drums & Percussion, Vocals/BGD Vocals

13. Plague Monk Censer Bearers aka 'Censi': 2nd Drums & Percussion, Vocals/BGD Vocals

14. Mors Clan's Storm Vermin (Halberds) aka 'Hilda': Vocals/BGD Vocals, OCC Gtr (mostly Rhythm) and Bass

15. Mors Clan's Storm Vermin (Sword & Shield) aka 'Silvia': Vocals/BGD Vocals, Gtr (mostly Rhythm), OCC Bass

16. Ikit Claw: Vocals

The rest are future characters and even outsiders (non-Skaven characters) who want to jam or support/assist the band.

Notes:

1. After a discussion with SkyKain, a suitable Warlord as a guest for Morrslieb would be Ikit Claw since she likes some of the more elegant or classy music and there are a lot of Skrye apprentices here.

2. The message on Martha's guitar refers to the Red Hot Chili Peppers/RHCP' amazing performance at La CIGALE in Paris, 2006. Particularly John Frusciante's (a guitarist, one of Martha fav idols)'s performance during “Don't forget me.”

3. Grinda developed her interest in music after seeing her friends playing the cover songs during their rehearsals. She decided to choose drum as her main instrument by seeing Ratly and some of the famous drummers as her inspirations. For the latter, the examples are; Karen Carpenter - a vocalist (mainly) and drummer from the Carpenters, and Chad Smith from RHCP.

However, with her personal reasons, she decides to learn how to be a professional drummer in her own way by secretly taking jazz classes alone (Ikit approve this, btw). She later shows the skills she learned so far to her friends and was immediately accepted into 'the Morrslieb' band not long after Ratly informs everyone that she wants to join 'the Rodents' and the band plan to recruit a new drummer.

4. Also note if the band wanna cover RHCP, the suitable bassist for this is gonna be Packie (as a main guest), I believe she's the one who is skillful enough and being so energetic like 'FLEA' (the band's bassist and usually regarded as one of the best bassist players in the world, also one of her fav idols for several reasons, lol XD). While the (main) vocalist I think it's gonna be Waffle.

5. Of course, the icons for Skaven belong to SkyKain.

#skaven #anthro #skykain #original character #music bands

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