#Silicon Coating Machine

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ newfangled technology ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ logan finds your vibrator and discovers a wonder of modern technology┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊implied age gap, established relationship, vibrators, overstimulation & mentioned multiple orgasms, receiving oral

➤ author's note: first logan smut!! i’m a bit burnt out of writing it actually so idk if there will be more, but i couldn’t let this idea go <3

logan likes to believe that he understands modern technology for the most part even though you can often hear him muttering curses under his breath at the stupid machine that isn’t working. if most parents and grandparents are struggling to figure it all out, you can bet that this two-hundred-year-old mutant does. it feels like yesterday when people were using rotary phones in their homes, then hand-held flip-phones, and now smartphones that could show you anything you could dream of at the tap of a button— he feels as though the world is growing much faster than an old man like him can keep up with too many gadgets for too many different purposes getting too many upgrades.

any attempts to get him to understand the internet fail for the most part, so he uses his own phone for nothing other than calling, texting, photography, and occasionally googling some sort of questions. he finds advertisements about the latest devices annoying, but he’s very appreciative of motorcycles, kitchen appliances, and other simple machines that make life so much easier compared to his time.

he’s learning about new tech every week, new and pre-existing, both ones which make him wonder if he should get it for himself or ones which make him furrow his brow at the fact that such a thing actually exists. tonight is one of the times when he has both reactions, but more than anything, an intense curiosity had been ignited in his soul.

you asked him to look for something in your bedroom drawers, something that he can’t recall at the moment after he found something that piqued his attention: an egg-shaped item coated in pink medical-grade silicone neatly hidden under layers of clothing and tightly wrapped in a bag. it was tiny in his massive hand and he didn’t have the foggiest idea what it was or what it was made for until you walked in to see what was taking so long, hearing you gasp and turning his head to find you covering your face with your hands looking absolutely mortified. you struggled to stop yourself from stuttering when you had to explain to him what it was, a sex toy that you bought sometime in the first year of college and buried once you got together since it was no longer needed. it was the only one you’ve ever bought and you’ve honestly forgotten about it until now without any idea of how he would react.

while you were humiliated about it, you could see a sparkle of intrigue in his eyes which quickly led to finding yourself in bed with your clothing removed and his new discovery against your aching cunt. it wasn’t difficult to figure out how to change the intensity of the vibrations with a press of a button, but did he need to put it at the highest setting when you’ve practically lost feeling in your legs at this point? it felt so strange at first now that you’re so accustomed to him pleasuring you personally, yet that foreign sense melted away with the familiar memory of taking care of your needs when lonely— except now you had your handsome lover holding it for you with your hands gripping the sheets instead. 

he’s amused at how such a small little thing was so powerful in reducing you to a moaning mess as it pulls another orgasm from your spent body, feeling his neglected cock twitch with every blissful moan past your lips louder than the humming of the toy. you mutter something along the lines of asking him not to stare out of embarrassment, but it all falls on deaf ears since the view that he has is downright mesmerizing, watching intently as he presses it into your puffy folds with a focus on your sensitive clit. all the while, he’s holding your legs open to stop you from closing them instinctively when it felt like too much, his large hand being a comforting weight on your thigh as you squirm in place.

your body trembled in sync with the pulsating toy, walls barely able to clench around the head of the vibrator while leaking like a faucet and dripping all over logan’s fingers. “it’s too much-!!” you whined, throwing your head back into the pillows with glossy eyes and drool starting to seep out the corner of your mouth from the electricity coursing through your veins. it’s surprising that you were even able to utter a coherent phrase when your brain had essentially been turned to mush.

“you can give me one more, can’t you doll?” there’s a hint of sadism in his voice detectable to even your ecstasy-fogged mind where you knew that he was getting off on your reactions alone, an arrogant smirk plastered across his handsome face that was so slappable and sexy. he can almost feel himself drooling too, craving a taste of the sweet nectar making a mess everywhere. “such a desperate and needy little thing,” he tutted, observing your greedy pussy trying to pull the vibrator deeper within you. “go on, cum for me.”

as if his words commanded your body, the tight coil twisting in your abdomen finally snapped, making you writhe and cry out in relief. your heart was pounding in your chest and you gasped for air, feeling sweaty and exhausted as that must have been your third or fourth climax. you stared at him through half-lidded eyes trying to determine if he had had enough of using the vibrator for torturous pleasure until he suddenly pulled you closer to him to bury his face into your soaked heat. he just needed a taste of you, to lick you clean and make you tug on his hair.

watching you become undone when he doesn’t even need to lift a finger seemed to awaken something in him… it’s definitely a piece of modern technology that he would like to invest in, he plans to buy more of different types, shapes, and sizes to try out on you (the definition of “spectacular, give me fourteen of them right now”).

[deadfrog-and-friends]

Rag Doll washes the tea things when the party is over because otherwise they won't get cleaned. the old Scullery Doll was much better and quicker at it but there were so many tea parties that she broke. one day when they stuck the key in her back it just wouldn't turn anymore and no one knew how to fix it. she just waits in her chair by the fireplace, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. we give her tea every day so she doesn't feel left out but it just grows cold in her lap.

we all have our duties. Rag doll's duty was to tuck everyone into bed at night. that's what she was made for. she was made so a young witch, frightened of the dark, would not be alone. she was made to say "are you comfortable? close your eyes. this one will tell you a story," and such things. the young witch is grown and gone away, and none of the dolls here seem to need that, so Rag stands at the sink with a teacup in one hand and a soapy sponge in another, late into the night. the soapy damp smell has become a part of her. she never feels fully dry. there is only so long she can stand being tumbled in the machine. so every night, instead of crawling into bed with the other dolls, she hangs herself from the clothesline with the fan blowing on her. someday Scullery will be fixed, and this duty will be lifted from her, and the smell will fade, but for now she hardly feels fit to present herself at the tea table.

Mabel helps by bringing all of the tea things to the kitchen, which is wonderful of it, because Rag can't handle the tray and would have to make individual trips for each piece. Mabel Doll has suggested that Rag wear some kind of rubber gloves, there are some that the witch used to use for magical purposes of some kind, but Rag has no fingers. the gloves are too big and the fingers get in the way. Baker Doll who happens to be passing by looks at Rag's cloth stumps and chuckling starts to suggest condoms before Mabel cuts it off. but Rag Doll has tried washing teacups with condoms. they're weirdly greasy. "this one is fine," Rag insists.

"that one is starting to get moldy," Mabel points out.

"a witch will come," says Rag, "and Scullery will be fixed."

~🧽~

years pass. the witch who finally comes can not fix Scullery. "Ro just left you guys here to your own devices," she observes, shaking her head. "Pity."

"miss Ro has many responsibilities," ventures Mable.

"not *that* many," says the new witch. "Scullery here, for example, a beautifully well-made piece of machinery. the silicone coating is lifelike, flexible, and durable. i've never seen its like. it apologizes, by the way, for neglecting the dishes all these years. what a waste, letting it rot out here."

"it needn't worry," ventures Mable. "Rags has taken over its duties."

at this, a giant gear within Scullery cranks into action, clicking over once. some of us jump, some scream, as this is the first we've seen it move in years and our memories are not very long. Scullery's hand jerks, toppling the cup of tea placed in its lap. luckily, its heat resistant silicone will seal out the hot liquid, preventing it from any harm. its skirt will have to be laundered. (we will probably just spot clean it.)

Scullery falls back into permanent stillness. "it's very upset," the new witch remarks. "it said 'that rag doll is least suitable to perform this one's duties."

"well, it's doing its best," says Mabel. "but we hope miss Ro will come back and give it some new body. that one is starting to be like a sponge that is ready to be thrown out."

"we did suggest gloves," says Sweetie. "this one thinks it just enjoys the feeling of decay. not every doll is capable of it, you know. this one will never decay. in a thousand years its parts will still be littering the planet." Sweetie's eyes get a faraway look.

"did it not occur to any of you," the witch says, the misery of the situation beginning to soak in, "that maybe one of the dolls who's not made out of absorbent, um, cloth, would be a better choice for washing the dishes?"

blank stares. finally "these ones' witch is gone."

"but Rag Doll offered to do it. Rag Doll said it was fine."

"we have our duties. this one sweeps the floor and dusts, for example."

"this one is also made of cloth! this one thinks that one is insane for taking on such a task."

"Rag got mad when this one tried to help. Rag screamed at this one."

"no." none of us had given it that much thought.

so the new witch goes into the kitchen to see Rag Doll. "oh, you poor thing," comes out of her mouth before she can stop herself. Rag, startled, falls off the back of the chair it's standing on. it had slunk back into the kitchen, defeated, the moment it had heard the new witch say she could do nothing for Scullery.

the new witch skips over and turns off the faucet. "what is it you were actually made for, little one?" she holds out her hand to help Rag Doll to its feet.

it struggles to remember. "this one... was made to tell bedtime stories and snuggle in bed." the years have not been kind to it. at least it's freshly laundered, having gone through the washing machine and tumbled in the dryer just a few nights ago.

"my name is Zo. may I pick you up?"

not believing what it's hearing, the doll nods, and suddenly it's being lifted into the air! levitated by a magical supportive pair of arms, and pressed into the chest of a Witch. it would take that one's breath away, if that one could breathe. it was like a purpose, long forgotten, was starting to reawaken. "a good weight, a good squish," the witch was muttering. "plenty of latent magic, plenty of spells to decrease the smell of dishes over time. little one, i might just steal you!"

"wha-?"

but before it could object, miss Zo, with Rag Doll in her arms, was hopping on Elizabeta's broom and zooming out through an open window. when Baker stopped in a moment later, all it observed was a sink full of half-washed teacups and the curtains swaying in the wind.

those half-washed teacups stayed in the sink like that for a few more days, and then Baker and Mabel agreed to share the job.

[bookshelfdreams]

@hylianengineer sorry I had to make a new post, the answer got too long for replies :D

Ah, the dreaded "but wool is itchy!". Not something I can relate to (I really like it when yarn/fabric has a bit of grip and structure to it, I'm not one for the ultra-soft, fluffy wools) but let's see if I can say smth useful.

First, you're definitely not alone in finding wool scratchy! A lot of people have sensory issues regarding it. Whether it can be helped at all will depend on how sensitive you are; some people can't even handle unspun 17 mic chubut merino and at that point, wool just isn't for them. Which is fine, not everything is for everyone.

Rule of thumb: the higher quality your fibre, the softer the finished garment will be. If it's just listed as "wool", it might contain recycled fibre, wool from sheep breeds that don't have a super fine fleece, or even wool from dead animals, all of which lowers the quality.

Virgin wool (I think) refers to wool that is spun for the first time, so a yarn that has no recycled fibres in it. Lambswool is a sheep's first wool. It is finer and smoother than adult wool.

Another big impact is breed of sheep and origin of the fibre. Merinos are the go-to for high quality items, but are also kept all over the world, so look to where your wool comes from. Aotearoa and South America are well known for their high quality merino wools. Sheep that live in colder, harsher climates produce a sturdy, tougher fleece, especially if they're not merino breeds. Depending on where you are, regional wool might not be what you're looking for. Britain is famous for their wool, but Shetland wool won't be super soft. Try some BFL (Bluefaced Leicester) if you can get it; it is smoother than merino and not as springy.

Wool can be superwash treated by coating the individual fibres, so the scales on the hairs are covered. This means it won't felt and can be machine washed; it also makes it less scratchy. This process is very energy- and water-intensive. The fibres are coated in silicone, I think, which makes the finished yarn feel kinda plastic-y, and it also lowers the insulating and water-repelling qualities of the wool. (All in all, you might as well buy acrylic)

You can also try looking for sheep's wool mixed with other animal fibres. Cashmere, alpaca, and mohair are probably the most common and all have their own qualities (cashmere is shiny and drapey; alpaca is smooth and kind of dense; mohair is light, extremely fluffy and super warm). All are softer than sheep's wool and nicer to the skin.

Anyway, all that to say: Look for virgin wool, look at the breed you're getting if it's specified, look for mixes with softer fibres, look at the origin of the wool. Unfortunately, when you're sensitive, navigating the world of natural fibres can be a bit of a minefield, I know. If wool isn't for you, that's not a moral failing!

[mistydeyes]

Mission gone wrong ?

Where reader and ghost are stuck in Oymyakon during winter,freezing in the snow waiting for backup?

ahhhh anon! thank you so much for this request!! i love the idea so much (like cmon who wouldn’t want to be stuck w simon in a cabin)

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summary: After the mission goes completely south, you and Ghost are left trudging through the wintery landscape of Oymyakon. When you finally arrive in the comfort of a secluded cabin, you two try to make light of the situation.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, violence

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"Just a little bit further," Ghost encouraged as you trudged through the meter-high snow. His voice echoed across the frozen landscape. As far as the eye could see, there were sparse trees coated in a heavy blanket of snow and ice. Getting away from the guns and snowmobiles was half the battle but now you were making the expedition to this fabled safe house. Out of all the missions you had with him, of course, this one had to go to absolute shit. "That's what you said 30 minutes ago," you mumbled, following in his large footprints. You had lost feeling in your lower extremities and you wondered how he could continue. With every step, you could feel pins and needles shoot through your sore body. Your breath felt harsh on your knitted balaclava and you secretly envied the many layers of fabric and silicone of Ghost's infamous mask. "If you quit complaining, it'll make the journey quicker," he said and you could tell the bastard had a smirk on his face. "God I hate Oymyakon."

Eventually, you could see a small cabin on the edge of your vision. "A mirage in the cold desert," you could hear Ghost joke and you picked up the pace. "Price did say this was isolated," you said through your chattering teeth, finally seeing the full picture of the home in arm's reach. You gripped the cold padlock in your gloved fingers and inputted the memorized set of coded numbers. Ghost shoved the iced-over door and gave way into the darkened, freezing cabin. "Home sweet home," you joked half-heartedly as you checked the bare-bones setup. Safe houses were all the same, only having the most simple of necessities and furnishings. As Ghost rummaged for a life-saving space heater, you looked through the cabinets to see if there were any food or hand warmers. The metal handle felt frigid on your fingertips and you saw two sizable mugs at home on the empty shelf.

"How romantic," Ghost said behind you and you jumped at the sudden baritone of his voice, "You gonna make us some tea?" You rolled your eyes at his typical British humor. "Maybe, if you got that space heater working," you replied and he gestured exaggeratedly to the small glowing machine that lit up the living room. "Speaks for itself," he smirked and you rolled your eyes before brushing past him to warm yourself. You took off your frozen boots and shook out your socks and jacket before you were left in your thermals under your gear. You could hear Ghost rummaging around in the adjacent bedroom before returning with two blankets. "No clothes but I do have these," he said and held up the flannel blankets. You nodded and he added his outerwear and gear next to yours.

As you sat wrapped in your blankets, you watched the snowfall and wind whip through the air. "If we weren't stuck here, this would actually be nice," you smiled as you stretched out your fingers in front of the space heater. "I got a cabin up in the Isle of Sky," he mentioned, "if we make it out of here, remind me to take you there." You beamed up at him and nodded eagerly at the offer. "That's in Scotland, right?" you asked and he let out a small grunt in confirmation. "This isn't some boy's cabin you and Soap share, right?" you questioned and he chuckled at the absurdity of the thought. "Fuckin' hell, I'd never," he swore, "just something I bought with a Lieutenant's salary." You thought for a moment before responding to his initial offer. "Well then, is that an offer for a romantic getaway, Lt?" you questioned and he quickly looked away from you. Despite the dim lighting of the room, you could see the subtle hint of pink on his ears. "Depends, hopefully evac gets here before we freeze to death." You shared a dry laugh as you continued to look out the window.

Before you knew it, the sun had set over the horizon and your body began to shut down from the day's events. You tried to suppress your yawn in your blanketed arm but Ghost noticed your small action. "You should sleep, there's one bed in the room over there," he gestured as you laughed softly. "Only one bed?" you smirked and you could almost hear his eye roll. "Not the time," he mumbled before he moved his hand in dismissal, "I'll keep the first watch." You got up slowly and dragged the blanket behind you. You reached the doorway and turned to him, wishing him a quiet goodnight. As you settled into the warm sheets, you turned to face the doorway and smiled as you saw Ghost perched over the small heater. If there was anything that was motivating you to survive, it was the potential to spend a weekend in a snowy cabin with Simon and no threat of danger.

[robotfuckerconfessions]

Robotfucker girl caressing her robotkin companion, blindfolded and tied down, the machine unable to feel anything but herself heating up and the gentle grazing of sensitive skin both yearn to be synthetic... The robotfucker whispering affirmation into a microphone, signal distorted and played back into headphones. She complimenting how nice and heated she's getting for her. How she's being *such* a good bot for her. Claiming her as *her* object, her tool, for her use only. How much she loves her. The machine momentarily forgets her form. Her breathi- no, her *fans* slow and shudder lightly, still, never daring to ventilate. Not a sound but the light yet powerful pulse of the engine in her chest chassis. The machine whines needily, wordlessly pleading to get closer to her, to feel silicone coated sensors against skin and those harsh hand pressing against- no, INSIDE her chassis, gripping at wires and internals not meant to be touched... But for now, this is the closest she can get to that reality, and it's perfect for both of them.

[acapelladitty]

Riddler/Reader: Applied Physics

Summary - Restrained against the wall and unable to escape, you find yourself playing willful victim to the Riddler's latest machine.

This commission from the lovely @doctorvondooms, was deliciously fun to write and I'm thrilled to share it. Also available on A03

Pinned into place opposite his work desk, the restraints which wrapped around your thighs to keep them spread and pinned against the wall were surprisingly comfortable; the thick bands of padded metal allowing your weight to rest atop them effortlessly without digging into your skin too deeply.

Your wrists suspended overhead, his ropework is as inescapable as ever as your arms hang uselessly from a hook in the wall, bound into a tight, praying gesture. The nylon rope, a lurid green which had you biting your tongue from making a cheeky comment, wound around your arms in a pretty pattern to keep them together as you glance up at them with an appreciative hum.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Edward's smug voice catches you unaware and your eyes flick to his position as he moves to stand before you, filling the space between your prone frame and his work desk. "A perfectly crafted machine, designed to be a custom fit to reward and punish wanton little whores who insist on interrupting important work time."

Unapologetic as a nervous smile tugs at your lips, you can barely make out the metallic mechanism which sits beneath your spread legs due to the thick, dark silicone of the cock which is pointing directly at your throbbing cunt; the heft of it commanding your attention as your back arches off the wall.

"While you enjoy your little ride, I will be completing some very intricate mechanical designs which a man of my brilliant stature finds necessary to produce from time to time."

His body inches towards you, the soft crack of a lid alerting you to the bottle of lubricant which sits in his hands as he pours a little out and bends, presumably to coat his machine for an easier entry.

As he stands, you push forward from the wall - as far as the restraints would allow - to capture his lips in a filthy kiss. He tastes of coffee and, despite his clear surprise, he allows the kiss to continue for a long moment, his blunt teeth nipping at your lower lip until he pulls away.

"Whore." He accuses but there's no anger in his gaze and a very prominent bulge in his grease-stained slacks as he pushes his thinning hair back with the green goggles which are never too far from his head. "Regardless, everything appears to be in order."

Retaking his seated position at the desk, his fingers press on the small remote which sits off to the side of papers he plans to focus on.

Immediately a faint whirring comes from the machine beneath you and your breath hitches in anticipation; wetness pooling against your slit as you sit, fully exposed and revelling in the shame of the arousal which curls within your gut.

The tip of the silicone threatens your hole and you exhale deeply as your body relaxes to accept it. The material feels wonderfully cool against your heated skin as it pushes within you at a snail pace, allowing you to acclimatise to the punishing girth inch by teasing inch. Your teeth grit against the inhumane stretch as a mewl of discomfort breaks free of your lips.

Hearing the noise, Edward glances up from his papers, the small pencil in his hand pausing its frantic scribble.

"Ah, ah, ah." He tuts, disappointment colouring his tone as he wipes the graphite from his fingers to his off-white tanktop. "Surely your fragile little body isn't ready to give up already? We've barely even started."

Determined to not give an inch, you bite back the hiss which builds in your throat as the almost unbearable thickness stops its progression and begins to pull free, the friction against your walls sparking a deep pleasure which makes you clench your fingers together in their bound position.

The lube he has applied to the length did its job well as it allows the machine to set a steady pace which was in equal parts torturously slow and wickedly intense as it forces you to feel every movement. Your exposed tits jiggle slightly as your body shakes in place, a phantom ache in your nipples making you wish that Edward's fingers or teeth were in the fray, pinching them with his usual viciousness.

Edward gaze having returned to his work, you watch as his finger almost absent-mindedly trails along the desk to tap at the small button on the remote control.

The effect is instant as the silicon dildo picks up pace, now moving in a relentlessly smooth motion as it pistons in and out of your greedy hole. There's something deliciously shameful about your position, legs spread and unable to close in such as way that nothing is hidden from easy viewing, including your clit as it throbs with anticipation - awaiting a stimulation which wasn't on the cards.

Pleasure builds steadily as each stroke brushes your most sensitive spots with an almost cruel precision, the machine needing to take no pause for breath or to regain stamina. It's stunning in its ferocity, in the lack of human warmth or care which it affords you as you sit like a piece of meat, total victim to the whims of the man who is visibly pretending to keep his attention on his work while stealing glances every few moments to watch you writhe in place.

Another button press and something guttural snaps free of your lips as the machine picks up pace. It's brutal and unforgiving in a way that makes it difficult for your breath to regulate as freshly stimulated nerves alight across your punished cunt. Your fingers scramble against their restraints but it provides no relief as your first orgasm creeps up without mercy.

Riding the wave of pleasure, noises that exist in the space between moans and stuttered pleas for help fill the space around you as your head slams back against the wall, the onslaught of relentless overstimulation quickly growing unbearable.

Unseen due to your eyes being squeezed shut in desperation, Edward watches your torment with a predatory expression; his gaze sharp and his features twisted into open hunger. One hand taps away at the remote control which keeps his machine whirring away at a punishing pace while the other hand appears suspiciously absent but no less busy as it seems to have disappeared below his work desk.

The quiet of the room is long abandoned. Your broken grunts for mercy pairing sweetly with the soft huffs and growls of pleasure that slip free of Edward's lips as he watches you suffer at the hands of the machine that he so kindly deigned to provide for you. It was a casual symphony that would be ongoing for many, many minutes to come. To last until Edward was satisfied with his observations and the relentless pleasure-turned-torture had long since fried your mind into the foolish mush that he often claimed it to be.

[nan0-sp1der]

003B1U calls for her.

At dawn when she basks in the sun-lit lobbies of the facility, it calls.

In the afternoons when she patrols the corridors, makes fleeting small-talk, phases in and out of passing moments between quickly fading faces, it calls.

At dusk when all is still, all is silent, when everyone has long since gone home and she still lingers in that stillness, it calls.

It hangs between the bits that flip in her memory, in the contacts that her hardware communicates and resonates through, in the hydraulic fluid that courses through her frame and keeps her cold to the touch. A memory that refuses to be re-written at all costs.

The calls of that flame-scorched, desolate planet she once called home have forever since echoed in her memory, and by all means did it intend to stay for all those years that she left it to its devices. Intent on reminding her of the cadavers decorating the shattered pods in that bunker. Of the kin she failed to convince. Of their stains on her hands that never left her vision.

What was she to do? The operation was doomed from the very beginning. Provided with a singular tanker with only a couple thousand gallons of water, she was somehow meant to make that last a lifetime. Should she have figured a way of changing the weather as well? To simply ignore the Sun that beat upon the surface of the Earth, to somehow seal the accursed ozone layer? Foolish. It was all so foolish to assume some measly plant life would have been the sole catalyst of life on a planet whose surface had turned to silicone, to glass, carbonized and practically averse to the moisture needed to harbor any kind of hospitable environment. What, then, was she meant to do, after it all shriveled up and became one with the dunes and picked up the wind?

Perhaps that crooked reflection was right back then. The figure bore of her own mass that took half of her with it when it came into existence, bursting from her rib, borne of her corrupted software. It was all for naught. Just another attempt by the human race to save face and assure that their existence on the soil they so righteously called theirs would carry on— even beyond the whims of harsh rays, blooming plasma and the indiscriminate wrath of Nature herself. To defy the data they themselves confidently concluded would mark the coming of a raging storm and the end of mankind as they knew it.

So why does she carry on as she does? What is this promise she clings onto, tied to the chipped artifact that she kept hidden in the right breast of her coat? Glass whose cracks were stained with ichor, blood she allowed to be spilled. 

Repentance. 

Yes. This is what this is. 

The promise she disguised as the responsibility she had of keeping humankind safe was none more than an attempt to validate her continued existence–her sustained function beyond her intended purpose as a means of denying herself a graceful degradation. 

She made a promise. A promise to someone who has been gone for decades, now,long since they were made one with the Earth, but it was a promise nonetheless. It extends beyond the basic task of ensuring the safety of others. Perseverance. Against all odds, no matter how she stumbled, she must keep moving. Carry the legacy with her when all else was left to ash and none were left to tell the tale. Endure, prevail, and by God, never forget who you are beyond your hardware, how she raised you. Raised, as a child would be, as a human. From that chamber wherein your atoms arranged themselves as they felt best. From that bunker that they molded your psyche. In that garden that showed you promise for the future. Perhaps it was melodramatic to insist she had a soul–a ghost of a consciousness bundled in with the algorithms and code that moved her along. But, it was what she was made to believe. Perhaps. There was no need to deny herself the capacity to present empathy. Beyond her existence as a machine, her responsibility was more than a mere task. It was simply something she felt she had to do. For the greater good. Because she promised she would.

Bridge stared out of that window in the lobby, yet another morning. From out that quiet pocket of the universe, 003B1U called to her as she replenished her energy reserves in preparation for the day, the photons she bathed in converting to electricity. The words strung themselves in the currents that rippled through the wires that were her veins.

Remember our promise, Bridge.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Researchers demonstrate enhanced radiative heat transfer for nanodevices

Researchers from Japan have been working hard to keep their cool—or at least—keep their nanodevices from overheating. By adding a tiny coating of silicon dioxide to micro-sized silicon structures, they were able to show a significant increase in the rate of heat dissipated. This work may lead to smaller and cheaper electronic devices that can pack in more microcircuits. As consumer electronics become ever more compact, while still boasting increased processing power, the need to manage waste heat from microcircuits has grown to become a major concern. Some scientific instruments and nanoscale machines require careful consideration of how localized heat will be shunted out of the device in order to prevent damage. Some cooling occurs when heat is radiated away as electromagnetic waves—similar to how the sun's power reaches the Earth through the vacuum of space. However, the rate of energy transfer can be too slow to protect the performance of sensitive and densely packed integrated electronic circuits.

Read more.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #99

I continued the work on the two epoxy spheres I started the other day.

So part of the reason I gotta re-epoxy the whole sphere after the first cast is because my silicone molds look like these:

As you can see, once it's cured, it leaves a flat surface where the opening is. And if I'm going for a perfectly spherical ball of awesomesauce, that doesn't work for me. So! The solution is to turn the sphere inside out, put some epoxy in the little dent on the bottom, put more epoxy on the flat surface of the orb, and then turn the sphere mold right-side-in by pressing the flat end of the sphere against the epoxy-filled dent. Here's the result:

I'm not gonna show you the other one yet; in the process of trying to turn the mold right-side-in, the orb ended up rotating inside the sphere mold unexpectedly, and I made a mess. Uncured epoxy goop got all over my hands and all over my work area, but fortunately, it didn't get all over me, which is wonderful because epoxy DOES NOT COME OUT OF CLOTHING, holy crap!

The stuff is poisonous when it's uncured because it's made of some really weird stuff. But I had rubbing alcohol at the ready, and so I got it off my skin fairly quickly; I'm not too terribly concerned.

So now it's just a matter of waiting a day or two for it to cure, and then it'll be time for me to sand it and then coat it in UV spray. They'll look good when they're done!

Between this and the other adulting I got done today, I feel like I get to goof off with Salt and Sanctuary for a while. I called some folks about my CPAP supplies, only to find out that although the place that prescribed it sent the data to the place I'm supposed to get supplies from, somehow the supply place didn't receive it. So the place that prescribed it sent it again to the supply place, so hopefully I'll be getting a call from the supply place soon. I'll call tomorrow to make sure.

I also called to get set up with the Patient Portal at my general doctor place. But I ended up getting just an answering machine. I left a message, hopefully someone will call me soon.

Finally, I called a braces place today. I have an appointment for 4pm tomorrow. I'm excited, but also nervous! I hope it goes well; wish me luck!

Today I also wrote some stuff for a thing that I can't tell you about yet. I thought about taking a break and Salting some more Sanctuaries, but… I think I have to work on some more of the other thing.

No matter how all this ends, I will make sure you're safe. It might take me a while, but you will be safe. I promise.

I'm gonna keep going. I'll write again tomorrow. Please stay safe out there.

Your friend, Lumine

[sneef-to-a-snorf-fight]

Totally Spies! S1 E10-15

ok we watched these late last night while also a lil high so its a lil hazy. also we have found a new top contender for the worst episode. not for the usual reasons. here ya go

oh also i rearranged a few of the last ones cuz they were just. wrong.

ok lets get to the notes

Silicon Valley Girls: ai named CHAD starts torturing people who bullied his creator Adam, machine kinda sexyevil like glados?, saying shit to everyone like "you've been a very bad boy. you deserve punishment" also CHAD reprograms Adam

Queen for a Day: fetishization of North African/ Middle Eastern women, kidnapping, bondage, forced dating

Shrinking: honestly not as bad as it could've been, micro/macro stuff, clover does wear doll's clothes at the end tho

Aliens: actually almost fine other than the torture/ murder machine, and also the organization called Gooper? more on this episode later

Wild Style: oh boy! this episode is the Island of Doctor Moreau but with Jimmy Buffet and Buffalo Bill (but a lady), evil fashion lady forcibly turns people into animal people so she can flay them and make clothing out of their fur/skin, she does in fact wear a coat made of human skin, she served cunt tho so i support women's wrongs, oh also clover becomes a catgirl and her outfit rips in some horny ways :/

Ok so now that that's out of the way, I NEED to talk about the geopolitical implications of the totally spies! world. so we see a couple world maps in the episode "Aliens"

so i have a couple theories for this situation. the breaks in the countries vaguely correspond to real tectonic faults? and we see an earthquake generator in this episode that's the size of a radio? so im thinking since there's basically constant supervillian activities, this may be causing the faults to move rapidly. and also IS CALIFORNIA AN ISLAND??

despite this drastic geologic difference to our earth, we often see a lot of places in this show mostly unchanged. like. Mexico has been Fucked but we still see Mexico City. We see New York twin towers and all. And Beverly Hills of course. There are some made up countries like Kenyopia and Lirobia (i think) but its like. An excuse for them to use weird medieval middle eastern stereotypes for a modern day thingie i guess. There were some others but I'm not going back and watching past episodes. France and Peru and China all exist. Also, Ivy pointed out that the Great Wall of China is still there even though there's a sea there now? We're gonna start noting these things now.

I also have some stuff to say about the music but we'll save that for it's own post.

11 episodes left in Season 1!

[invisiblefoxfire]

There have to be some autistic bakers out there, right? Because I'm fully at the end of my rope here. I've been making my own bread for like... 2 years now? And I still can't figure out how to fucking do this. It comes out edible every time, but not quite the way I want it. And I think the main issue is the kneading. No one has ever been able to explain to me how to knead dough in a way that makes actual sense to me. Whenever I try kneading dough, it sticks to my entire hands so hard that I just wind up wearing a dough glove. At that point I can't knead it any further because it's become a second skin on my hands and I can't get it off. (I then have a sensory overload meltdown, scream GET IT OFF MEEEEE, cry, throw things, occasionally break something or injure myself, then break down in a sobbing heap of self-loathing for a while.) As a result, I have worked out a system of making bread where I basically "knead" it with a spoon in the bowl and a lot of muscle. This doesn't lead to very good results and also fucks up my wrists.

Before I continue, let me get the following out of the way:

I know there are recipes for no-knead bread. That is not the kind of bread I want to make.

I already have a stand mixer, but it's useless because I am making very small loaves of bread, and it's just not enough for the mixer to work. (I am one person living alone and I can only eat so much bread every day, and even these small loaves often get moldy before I can finish them)

I have neither the money nor the space for a bread maker, and in any case I don't like the kind of bread they create.

I have tried flouring and oiling my hands. It helps for approximately 0.2 seconds and then the benefits evaporate and I'm right back where I started.

I have tried using gloves and it also doesn't help. The dough just coats the gloves and now I have two pairs of gloves on instead of one.

I have a plastic dough scraper but it doesn't help. The only surface I have to knead on is a silicone baking mat, which gets dented if the scraper digs into it, and if I try to move the dough around with it, I wind up with bits of dough sliced off and adhered to the scraper, which then also becomes near impossible to clean.

So. Is there someone out there who can explain to me in very specific autism-friendly terms HOW THE FUCK you are supposed to do this? Is there a video out there that shows the process of kneading bread dough from start to finish that doesn't just go "it'll be sticky at first but get less sticky as you work it" and then cut to the fucking finished product? HOW, specifically, do you touch and grip and move the dough without it coating your entire hand and then refusing to come off forever, leading to me bent sobbing over the sink desperately trying to scrub it all off with soap and hot water and continuing to discover bits of it under my fingernails for hours afterward?

"Turn and fold it"—the second my fingers touch bread dough, it adheres to my skin and will not come off. I'm like fucking Tetsuo in Akira, becoming one with this formless blob which I can't seem to remove from my skin no matter what I do.

I have tried various dough recipes and it doesn't seem to matter what the ingredients and ratios are, I can't figure out how to knead it. The one I am using now is actually pretty dense. It uses dry active yeast, 50g rye flour, 200g wheat bread flour, 150ml water, about a teaspoon of olive oil, teaspoon of salt, and tablespoon of sugar for the yeast. I like dense bread, actually, so that's fine - I'm not trying to make a light, airy bread.

My current system is to, once the yeast is woken up and the ingredients all combined, jam a spoon in the center and roughly stir it as hard as I can, trying to stretch it as much as possible, occasionally repositioning the spoon. Basically roughly replicating the motion of a hook attachment in a stand mixer, but without the hook, and without the machine power. This flares up my wrist tendinitis every time, but it's that or nothing. When I've gone as long as I physically can, I pat it all together with the spoon and do the first proof. Then I do knead it on a silicone mat, which is a harrowing experience, because while it's no longer an instant second epidermis, it is still always sticky enough to give me sensory overload. I often wind up with no choice but to constantly re-coat my hands in flour (I'm talking literally once every 15 seconds or so), which of course only serves to make the bread even denser, but without doing that, I can't knead the dough at all without having a meltdown, because at this point I'm already stressed from the entire process.

"Why don't you just give up on making bread" I like bread! I like baking, aside from the kneading part! And I can't buy this type of bread where I live. I don't want to give up on this, I just want to figure out how it's physically possible to do!

I asked a friend who bakes bread about this. I told him that it's too sticky, it coats my hands, and then I can't get it off. And he said "it's supposed to be sticky, just keep working it and it'll get less sticky" and I just stared at him. How can I "work" dough that is stuck fast to my skin? It won't let go of me. I can stretch my hands apart and it will split into two stringy masses so that it can keep hanging on to my hands rather than let go. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHEN YOU SAY "WORK THE DOUGH?

Am I supposed to just clap my hands together and stretch them back out over and over again? I've seen people knead dough on a table or mat and the dough DOESN'T ADHERE TO THEIR HANDS. They'll be like "it'll be sticky" and then show the dough sticking temporarily to their skin then letting go when they pull their hands away. WHAT IS HAPPENING.

I feel like I'm missing something massive here. There's some movement people are doing that keeps the dough from adhering. Or maybe my skin is secretly made of fucking glue, I don't know.

Someone please help. I feel like attempting to knead dough is going to be the trigger for my final nervous breakdown.

[salmontheking]

Hi, really like your stuff, just wanted to ask, what are your big mechs made of? For example Aster Yukon doesn't seem to have an elbow joint, are the red "gloves" on his arms rubber-like coverings? Is it liquid metal? Or does the whole shape shift and move without visible joints while being solid like modern jets wings?

Giant robots are made from starmass, which is catch all for materials produced by captive star tissues and organs. Starmass can be alive, but you can't know without a microscope. Sometimes it looks like living tissue, sometimes like plastic, sometimes like metal smoother than a mirror.

The armor on Yukon is rigid, shiny and metallic, it has segmented plates on joints but they fit close enough that you can't see them from far away. The red parts are just a livery, they regularly get scraped off from wear.

The dark grey lower torso is closer to asphalt in texture. It's "flexible" in so far as the robot can bend, but you could hit it with a sledgehammer and it won't even shake.

On the inside it's more like a gross slimy machine than a living organism. It's full of fluids, most of which are toxic and smell closer to bleach and motor oil than human blood. Most organs/parts are also coated in silicone-like elastic connective tissue. They're very confusing to look at in motion, how organic something looks doesn't always translate to how it moves.

Pretty much every giant robot is like this. The older ones had more obvious joints.

[incaensio]

setting : district thirteen's infirmary, days one to three after the arena breakout.

it is the sting in her hand that wakes her up. instinctively, she raises that, only to find something fight back — her eyes ache as she opens them, only to realize she's in a hospital of sorts. the rush of panic is familiar as she believes herself to be in the capitol. of course. the plan — rebellion, however haymitch had put it — could never work. they haven't strapped her to bed, however, which is foolish. her head is hazy but anxiety is a powerful tool that pushes her to tug at the line set in her arm; she keeps her heart monitor (nevermind it is spiking) as she properly sits up, looking around to set herself. the curtains are drawn shut, but the privacy is not a cage — only a mask that keeps her from finding an exit, which is just as bad.

there's a chiffonier on top of which the big machine that monitored her heart rested. the sounds are louder now, how long until someone comes? she doesn't have the time to hesitate. so she doesn't. she goes through the drawers, finding all sort of useless things in the unlocked ones — silicone ties and gauze and a fluid bag or two — and, just as the she hears the sliding of the door, she secures a hand around a syringe, and falls back in bed, keeping the needle under the covers.

her nearby captor is dressed in all gray, other than the medical coat; there's a device in their wrist and they talk into it, something along the lines of she's awake. oh yeah, she's awake, katniss thinks. they approach to take her vitals and she pounces, sticking the needle in their neck — that is enough for them to stumble backwards, and katniss tries to push her own body forward; she slings her legs out of the covers and out of the bed, but her knees wobble and she falls to the floor. it is just enough time for another person to come and sting her with something else.

everything's black again.

———

when she wakes up again, the first thing she notices are the restraints. they keep her lying down, tight against the mattress, and, this time, there's no delay in the arrival of the medic. it's the same doctor, only they have some kind of bandage around their neck; katniss would smirk at that if she wasn't so groggy, or defeated that her attempt has failed.

"do you know your name?" the person's voice is a bit husky.

"don't act like you ain't fuckin' know it." katniss' own voice feels as if she has slept for days — she should feel that drop in her stomach as she realizes that's probably the truth, but it doesn't come. they've put her in something more powerful, then. that's bad.

"we need to be proper here." in hospitals in the capitol, they had mini computer screens — tablets, or holos — when they wrote down patient information. this person uses paper. that's odd.

"i ain't proper, haven't ya heard? where in the capitol are we?”

there's a pause then, but the person's expression doesn't change much. they've been doing this for a while, probably — it's the same look her mother has when she handles patients: impersonal, profissional, secure. even if the patient has just tried to kill them. katniss isn't sure either to respect this person or loathe them.

"we're in district thirteen, katniss everdeen. you've been brought here two days ago by haymitch abernathy, along with some more people from the capitol to join the cause against the tyranny of the capitol." well, that's a bunch of bullshit if she has ever known it. obviously, the capitol caught up to the hovercraft and captured them, and is now playing mind games. destroying her for her dare to fight back. they're fucking wrong if they think she will stop now. "you've broken two fingers in your left hand when you assaulted soldier abernathy. they're setting, and you'll be able to use your bow in no time." they want her armed, after she's just tried to kill them? that's either interesting or just dumb.

"it would be nice if you ate something, it has been a while since your last meal according to your bloodwork." the person is offering a plate of something that looks like oatmeal. katniss barely gives the food a glance before glaring at the medic. food is the last thing in her mind, and she'd rather starve herself than eat something from this fake district (it would be better if she did starve. a full circle, at last).

"what about haymitch?"

"he's alive, and his nose is back in place. you're not ambidextruous, so the hit wasn't precise."

that smile comes to her face now. then it falls, back to a scowl. what does she care that haymitch is alive if he's left peeta behind to die? she'd have preferred if he was dead. perhaps she'd have had better luck if she went for his throat rather than his face.

there's another moment of silence, and then katniss hears her own laughter bubbling out.

"soldier? haymitch?"

"we're all soldiers here. we're all fighting for the cause, mockingjay."

that takes away all the sardonic amusement from her face. she finally feels the cooling in her stomach.

"where's my family?”

that's the first thing that seems to distress the person. they look to the side, as if waiting for help. it comes swiftly, another spike in the medicine making her pass out.

they're dead too, then, is the last thing she thinks.

———

she doesn’t want to wake up a third time. she wants the drugs to take her forever. there’s a part of her that finds it amusing that they shall not have any mockingjay, that this is over for her, finally. then the softest, most familiar voice rings through the room. “can you remove these from her, please?” primrose. katniss’ breath becomes ragged even before she opens her eyes, but panic is halted at her sister’s gentle hand undoing the straps around her body; prim’s hands then go to her face, brush away a stray hair or two (they haven’t bothered braiding her hair, then. guess if she attacked a medic who went to take her vitals, trying to make her pretty is not worth it. this is truly not the capitol).

“katniss.” prim breathes. there are tears in her eyes. katniss finds that, as her vision blurs, she also her tears in her eyes. someone else comes in — katniss recognizes her mother, the now rare dread in her face. “katniss!” she’s less gentle than prim as she wraps her arms around her eldest daughter, and something is heavy in katniss’ throat at her mother’s worry for her. it feels foreign, but she doesn't flnch away. lilian pulls away and prim keeps a hand on katniss’ own, as lilian takes the other.

“am i dead?” it’s katniss’ own voice, that rough pattern that seems to have become her new tone. lilian’s face turns in a way that katniss has seen in the mirror sometimes — how ironic is that, that she has always been deemed her father’s mini me, yet it is lilian she has become — and she looks at prim, then back at katniss. “no, katniss. we’re in district thirteen. they- they’ve just taken us in.”

“yes, we’ve just arrived. we came straight to see you. we didn’t know if you were alive after the interview, the arena blew up just a bit after that, and they turned off all the tvs then.” prim is the one telling the story. she has a steadier voice, her little duck. one year ago, she turned to katniss’ side in bed in tears about her first reaping, and now she’s sitting at her death bed, comforting her as she tells what certainly is a fresh horror katniss is unaware of.

“katniss,” lilian has started again. katniss wonders if they have rehearsed this on the hovercraft. “we couldn’t have come any sooner.” a pause, and the two healers of the everdeen line look at one another. “katniss,” she’s getting tired of her own name. she’s getting sick of this.

“what?” annoyance is palpable. “spill it.” her insolence earns her lilian’s sad, shocked eyes. that’s nothing new. primrose looks at their mother, and, adding to katniss’ suspicion of an arrangement between the two, lilian stands up, saying she will check what they’re giving katniss. of course. mother always scrambles in times like this.

“after the power went out, we waited. we could tell something was coming. and then… we could hear the cars running up the road. all the peacekeepers left. then... after a while... they dropped the bombs.” katniss blinks. “they bombed twelve, katniss.” katniss is speechless in a way she has never been before. worse than when she couldn’t think of the right words. she just can’t think of anything. anything but they bombed twelve, katniss.

“because of me.” it’s the only thing she can say.

the volunteering for prim. the arrow to the gamemakers. the flowers for rue. the berries for peeta. the mockingjay dress by cinna, for the rebellion. bombs, for twelve. all pointless, because they're all dead (save from her sister, the first sacrifice, the only one that stuck).

“it’s my fault,” she can’t breathe. she tries to pull in the air, but she can not inhale, she can barely hear prim trying to tell her otherwise; she can not hear anything else but they bombed twelve, katniss. her hands, free for the first time in what feels like days, shoot up to her face, nails dragging across skin and then fingers curling around hairs and pulling until it hurts, until everything hurts.

someone holds her hands down — she thinks it’s prim, but when has prim gotten that strong? mother has found a syringe with one of the capitol/thirteen people, she’s approaching them — but she still can’t breathe properly and her chest hurts so bad she’s almost begging for the now familiar oblivion, the one that everyone from twelve must have asked for when they burned, scorched by real flames, to coal.

real twelve coal. katniss can hear herself laughing again.

then darkness embraces her as the loop restarts.

[cundongrojo]

Uses of galvanized coils

Galvalume coil is a material that applies aluminum-zinc alloy coating to the surface of steel plates. It is usually composed of an alloy containing about 55% aluminum, 43% zinc and a small amount of silicon. This material is widely used in many fields due to its excellent anti-corrosion properties, good high temperature resistance and long service life. This article will explore the main uses of galvalume coils and their benefits.

Construction industry In the construction industry, galvalume coils are widely used in the production of roof and wall panels. Since the surface of galvanized coil has good corrosion resistance, it can effectively cope with harsh weather conditions, such as acid rain, sea breeze and high humidity climate. This makes galvalume coils a highly advantageous building material, especially in coastal areas or areas with high humidity. Compared with traditional galvanized coils, galvanized coils have significantly improved anti-corrosion properties and can significantly extend the service life of buildings. In addition, galvanized coils have good heat reflectivity on the building surface, which can effectively reduce the temperature inside the building, thereby improving the indoor environment and saving energy.

Automobile manufacturing In the automotive industry, galvanized coils are used to manufacture car casings, roofs, hoods and other components. With the improvement of environmental standards, automobile manufacturers are increasingly inclined to use galvanized coils instead of traditional galvanized steel sheets. This is because galvanized coils have stronger corrosion resistance and can effectively resist the erosion of rain, salt spray and other corrosive substances, and reduce the corrosion of the car body. In addition, the lightweight properties of galvalume materials can reduce vehicle weight, thereby improving fuel efficiency.

Home appliance industry Galvalume coils are also widely used in the home appliance industry, especially in the manufacture of electrical appliance casings and inner pots. For example, the external structures of home appliances such as air conditioners, refrigerators, and washing machines often use galvanized coils. Due to the corrosion-resistant and heat-reflective properties of galvalume, these products maintain their appearance over time and reduce damage caused by moisture, oil, or other corrosive substances. At the same time, galvanized coils can also improve the energy efficiency of home appliances because their surfaces reflect heat, helping to improve cooling or heating effects.

Agricultural facilities In agricultural facilities, galvanized coils are widely used in the construction of greenhouses, warehouses, livestock sheds and other structures. Galvalume materials are not only corrosion-resistant, but also have good UV resistance, which can effectively resist the effects of high temperatures and strong sunlight. For agricultural facilities, the use of galvanized coils can significantly extend their service life and reduce maintenance costs. It can also help improve internal temperature control and promote the healthy growth of crops or livestock.

Energy industry Galvalume coils also play an important role in the energy industry, especially in solar installations and wind power installations. Galvalume is often used for solar panel brackets and wind turbine casings because it effectively protects the equipment from corrosion due to prolonged exposure outdoors. Especially in coastal areas, the corrosion resistance of galvanized materials is particularly outstanding, ensuring the stability and durability of equipment.

in conclusion Overall, galvalume coils have become an important material in multiple industries including construction, automotive, home appliances, agriculture, and energy due to their excellent corrosion resistance, heat reflectivity, and service life. As people's requirements for environmental protection and material performance continue to increase, the application prospects of galvalume coils will become broader and become an indispensable high-quality material in various industries in the future.

[atplblog]

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[siddhgiri]

 Aluminium Alloy 2014 Sheets & Plates

Aluminium Alloy 2014 is a high-strength, heat-treatable alloy primarily composed of aluminium, copper, and small amounts of other elements like manganese, magnesium, and silicon. Known for its excellent strength-to-weight ratio and superior machinability, it is commonly used in industries that require high-performance materials, such as aerospace, military, and transportation. Aluminium Alloy 2014 is typically used in applications where strength and durability are more critical than corrosion resistance.

Siddhgiri Tubes is a renowned supplier and manufacturer of Aluminium Alloy 2014 sheets and plates. With years of industry experience, Siddhgiri Tubes delivers high-quality products that meet the rigorous demands of industries requiring advanced materials.

Product Overview

Aluminium Alloy 2014 sheets and plates are known for their excellent mechanical properties, particularly their high tensile strength and fatigue resistance.

The sheets and plates offered by Siddhgiri Tubes are available in various thicknesses and sizes, and they meet the necessary industry standards for strength and durability. Common applications include:

Aerospace Industry: Used in aircraft and spacecraft components due to its strength and lightweight properties.

Military Applications: Components such as missile parts and military vehicles.

Transport and Automotive: Engine parts, frames, and high-performance components.

Structural Applications: In industries where weight and strength are critical, such as bridge construction and heavy-duty equipment.

Specification

Grade:- Aluminium 2014 / UNS A92014

ASTM Specifications:-ASTM B209 / ASME SB209

Thickness Chart:-0.5mm TO 250mm

Form:-Plates, Sheets, Slatting Coils, Coils, Foils, Plain Sheet, Shim Sheet, Strip, Rolls, Perforated Coils, Flats, Blank , Ring

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Finish:-Cold rolled sheet (CR), 2D, Hot rolled plate (HR), 2B, BA NO(8), SATIN (Met with Plastic Coated)

Size in Milimeter:-000 mm x 2000 mm, 1220 mm x 2440 mm, 1500 mm x 3000 mm, 2000 mm x 2000 mm, 2000 mm x 4000 mm etc

Length in MM:-1000mm TO 6000mm

Applications Industries:-Gas Processing, Condensers, Sea Water Equipment, Power Generation, Pharmaceuticals, Specialty Chemicals, Pulp, Pharmaceutical Equipment, Chemical Equipment, Petrochemicals, Paper Off-Shore Oil Drilling Companies, Heat Exchangers, Industry

Advantages

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Heat Treatable: The alloy can be heat-treated to further enhance its strength, making it highly adaptable for various demanding applications.

Fatigue Resistance: Due to its excellent fatigue resistance, Aluminium 2014 is used in structures and components subjected to repeated stress, such as aircraft parts and automotive components.

Lightweight: Like all aluminium alloys, 2014 is lightweight, which helps reduce the overall weight of structures and equipment, crucial for applications in aerospace and transportation.

Conclusion

Aluminium Alloy 2014 sheets and plates, available from Siddhgiri Tubes, are ideal for high-performance applications where strength, durability, and lightweight properties are paramount. While its corrosion resistance is not as high as some other alloys, its superior strength and machinability make it a preferred choice in critical industries such as aerospace, defense, and automotive.