#Suspended Plate Magnets

[mpcomagnetics]

What are Suspended Plate Magnets

What are Suspended Plate Magnets Suspended plate magnets are essential tools in various industrial applications, primarily designed to remove ferrous contaminants from material flows. These magnets operate on the principle of magnetic attraction, effectively capturing unwanted metal particles that could potentially harm machinery or compromise product quality. 1. Functionality and Design The…

[peppertoastuniverse]

the drowning – suguru geto contents: geto suguru x gn!reader, comfort/hurt, fluff, gojo cameo, sugu being so sweet to you

summary: with a recurring nightmare plaguing your mind, you find comfort in suguru's reassuring words and warm embrace.

wc: 2.1K

you hear him mumble “you're starting to scare me...” as he pushes a lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “please tell me what's going on, sweetheart?"

you were no match for the rough waters that surrounded you. you screamed his name. in your panic you lost sight of him. the crashing waves were too much for you to stay linked together no matter how tightly you clung to him. but his lungs took on too much water, his reaching hands sinking down into the deep depths of the unforgiving waves. lost forever, he no longer belonged to you; the ocean claiming him.

in your despair you knew you would be next. you tried, you really did. it was almost a relief when you finally sank, the abyss easily swallowing you whole. you were grateful that his face was the last thing you remember. you felt lucky to be allowed this privilege, that his kind eyes were reassuring you until the very end. a groaning gasp is the first thing you hear when you jolt up in your cold bed. a recurring nightmare that left you in shambles, scrambling to recollect the pieces of yourself that lay scattered on your bedroom floor. you couldn’t catch your breath, your breathing coming in and out harshly. you could still feel the salt in your lungs, your legs tired from treading water. drowning was a silent struggle but losing him was a painful death.

you stare at the clock – 3 AM. again.

you exhale shakily. you touch your cheek in surprise to find that the waves in your nightmares making their way into your waking reality, settling in your eyes. the fifth time just this week. you were starting to worry that you were losing it, yet you knew you already had. the ocean claiming another thing dear to you.

wiping your eyes you hesitantly you get out of bed, discarding the restrictive blankets off you. your socked feet padded on the floor, striding across the room with purpose. like a magnet you dart to the room across from yours. you hoped that that he was safely back from his mission.

you raise your clammy hands to grab the doorknob but you hesitate, hand suspended in mid-air.

this.. this would be too far you decided.

you needed to calm down. get it together. it was just a nightmare...

it wasn’t fair to suguru to rely on him when you were in this state – you knew he had demons of his own. although he was your best friend, you felt guilty for leaning on him so heavily lately. regaining your senses, your hand drops into a fist and settles by your side. if you couldn’t save him in your dream, you could save him the trouble in your waking reality.

he didn’t need this, he didn’t need even more on his plate.

convincing that yourself that you were okay, you abruptly turn around to collide with a familiar a firm chest with a looming figure. ooomfffph.

he calls says your name softly, instinctually grabbing your forearms to steady you. meeting his violet eyes, you breath out a sigh of relief.

“looking for me?” suguru says with a soft smile, his slightly damp bangs hiding his tired eyes.

always. you were always looking for him and you knew that he would always find you, even when you were not lost.

he was here. he was with you. he was safe.

he must have just returned from a mission. a towel draped over his shoulder, loose pajamas hanging from his broad frame, it looked like he was getting ready for bed. you enjoyed him like this, relaxed and soft.

at your staring and unusual silence, he lightly drops your arms to get a better look at you. his narrow eyes widen slightly as they take in your haggard face and glazed over eyes, dark circles prominent. “hey.. what’s wrong?” his hands gently stroke the sides of your arms reassuringly.

hearing his voice – his concern – something within you breaks. the dam that was keeping your emotions at bay throughout the week, finally bursting. you rush at him, latching onto his broad frame, you throw your arms around his neck, drawing him close.

after the initial shock, you feel his arms wind around your trembling frame.   “what’s going on?” he asks worriedly, rubbing your back. you shake your head stubbornly, face buried in his broad chest. you were too scared to speak, worried that if you vocalized your fear, it would somehow come true. “you’re shaking.” he mutters, more to himself than you. noticing your irregular breathing, suguru cups your face in his hands, searching for the solution in his mind. you close your eyes as his thumbs gently circling your tear stained cheeks, his eyes stormy with the need to fix things gnawing at him. he was here. he was with you. he was safe. 

 “c'mon..” grasping at your shaking hands, he leads your trembling body towards your room, turning back to try to catch a glimpse at your face. suguru has seen you upset, he’s seen you cry, he’s seen you in a hysterical state – but never like this. he knew firsthand that you had nightmares and usually his touch was enough to bring you back to him. but this time, you were lost. he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. he hated seeing you in this state, so fragile, shaken from the echos of your panic.

opening the door, the light in the hall casts shadows in your cold room. warm hands still linking you to him, he guides you into the dark. wordlessly, you follow him. what was once unfamiliar and unending seemed more bearable with his presence. he encourages you to get back into your messy bed as he meticulously refluffs the comforter around you. once satisfied with his work and making sure that you’re comfortable, he sits on top the blanket at the edge of the bed.

you hear him mumble “you're starting to scare me...” as he pushes a lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “please tell me what's going on, sweetheart?" silently you pull the blankets from under him with purpose and encourage his tall frame to lay with you under the covers.  “.. are.. are you sure?” he asks not wanting to cross any boundaries you may have.

you make room for him as you pull away your meticulously placed covers and insistently pat the cold space beside you.

he obeys. you feel his reassuring weight beside you as he takes the spot that you unconsciously reserved for him. you almost scoff as throw your comforter over him when he did not move to cover himself. he gives a thin lipped smile, but it doesn’t erase the growing concern in his eyes. you meet his gaze as he settles on his side with a respectful amount of space in between you.

you wanted to sear his smile into your heart and use it in place of yours when you didn't have the energy. you wanted to sink in the way he would hold your hand under the covers, his hands memorizing your palms like they only created beauty. you were savouring the small parts of him that would eventually fade away in time. his stories were written in your history, his words an antidote for your racing thoughts, his presence reassurance that things would be okay simply because he was there. you look at him like you're trying to memorize every line in his face just in case you lose him again tomorrow night.

you lean your head on his shoulder. "please tell me?" he tries again, his voice gentle.

"n-nightmare."

suguru slowly wraps his arm around you so that you could lay comfortably in the space between his neck and his chest.

"the same one?" he says voice barely above a whisper, fitting your body against his, two halves of a whole. his large hands cradling your back gently, his damp hair tickling your face. you sniff slightly, glassy eyes staring into the violet abyss. you recognized concern painting his face, his thin brows furrowed, a small frown shaping his mouth. his worry for you all consuming. in your dreams he held the same expression and yet he felt different holding you. “it was.. different.” “different? how?” he encourages, narrow eyes squinting, still trying to find ways to make you feel better. to fix this, to find you.

“worse.” “worse? what happened..?” “you were there." "me?" you could feel the surprise in his voice, pitch moving up slightly, warm hands stilling. "yeah. you were.. I couldn’t find you.. i tried. I just- I couldn’t- .”

he gently shushes you, drawing you close “hey… hey, sweetheart,” he coos.

“..sweetheart, look at me.” he says patiently. you finally look at him and for the first time that night, you think you can see clearly. the first thing you see is him.

“look at me, look, i’m here.” he raises your hand and lays it on his chest, his hand over yours. you can feel his heartbeat, proof of his safety.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

he was here, he was safe. he was with you.

you lay head on his chest, memorizing his heartbeat, allowing yourself to be engulfed by his scent. fresh shampoo and sandalwood grounding you, proof that there were no more waves to worry you. his arms the lifejacket you never had. he somehow was woven into your mind, patches of him covering the parts where you were unravelling at the seams.

a large hand brushes away the tears that you didn’t feel fall. you shyly nuzzle your head in his chest, holding your breath making an effort to ground yourself.

“listen, I won’t let that happen. ok?” he says, squeezing you slightly. allowing your tears to collect on his baggy white shirt. “i’m a fantastic swimmer y’know.” a merciful attempt at a distraction, trying to coax a smile from you.

 “yeah? you… are?”  you say with your eyes closed, a pathetic attempt at a smile.

“yeah, better than you at least.” you feel his teasing smile against your forehead. you smack his chest lightly, chuckling at his playfulness.  

he stills with the sound of your laughter. relief evident in his boyish smile, you feel his soft laughter echo against your chest. your heartbeat happy to follow the same rhythm. it felt natural to follow him.

when you dared to look up at him, you saw that in his eyes was a mirror, a reflection of yourself shining back. in his eyes was too much love, it was overflowing, filling your empty cup, in his touch he promised that you would never go thirsty.

“you’ll never lose me because I’ll be right beside you.” he whispers. your eyes soften.

you nod, body finally relaxing in his hold. you gave into him like you have a hundred times before.

“can.. can you stay here tonight?” you ask hesitantly, shifting closer to his warmth.

you feel his strong arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body flush to his, heart to heart, anchoring you to him. 

"’’course, i can. as long as you want me, as long as you need me, I’ll stay."

you nod, a ghost of a smile threatening to break on your face. with him close at least your head was above water now.

before you drift off into sleep. you feel his lips on your forehead, a whisper of a shared truth. you were here. you were with him. you were safe.

for the first time in weeks you drift into a peaceful sleep, his breathing a lullaby made only for you.

you wake suddenly. you feel him beside you, long strong arms still around your waist. his head buried in your neck. you gently sigh as you feel him tighten his arms around you. he stirs with a soft whine. you feel the blankets shift as he sighs your name.

“mmph.. did you sleep okay, sweetheart?” he mutters, voice still half asleep, muffled by the pillows. you feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“yeah. how about you, suguru?," you ask leaning back into his touch.

he freezes. he pulls away slightly to look at you. there was something in his eyes that you didn't recognize.

“did you just.. call me suguru?”

you blink, your eyes meeting his pale face painted with concern.

“did you.. did you have that dream again?” satoru asks. your heart drops.

sympathetic arms pulling you closer to him. his blue eyes reminding you of the depths that stole him from you.

you lost him all over again. you had drowned.

a/n: eeEeee! this turned out differently than i thought it would...

[brandwhoreafterdark]

TFA Shockblurr with a side of bondage, sensory deprivation, knife play, overstimulation, and roleplaying? (Blurr rping as an Autobot torturer and as Shockwave his hapless victim please?)

Anon I need you to know that I love you. I had so much fun with this! I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖

The chains rattled as Shockwave jerked, yet another overload rolling through his entire frame. He's suspended from the ceiling, pedes dangling just above the floor with arms above his helm. Drool bubbles up from around the gag, and there’s a wet, obscene sound as transfluid gushes out of his valve. It’s pinned open, spread around a massive, vibrating false spike as big as Blurr’s arm. It’s magnetized to the walls, so no matter how much he squirms and cants his hips, no matter how many times he cums and floods his valve with more release, it remains tightly in place. It’s buried in deep, tip pressed cruelly to his ceiling node, buzzing and rubbing and grinding on the spot that would have him seeing stars if it weren’t for the blindfold covering his single optic.

“Ready to talk yet?”

Shockwave’s antlers twitch–he can hear him, can hear his captor. Somewhere to the left- no. Somewhere to the right? In front of him now? His vents heave, gasping for air in a desperate bid to cool his overheating frame.

Something sharp, too sharp to be the autobot’s tiny, delicate finger, scrapes gently up his chassis. The captive spy shivers, making a muffled yelp when the movement makes the toy nestled inside him press harder against the roof of his valve. Blurr had had to be creative with the gag, though muzzle is perhaps were accurate. With no mouth of his own, vocalizer trapped behind the expressionless face screen, the only way to properly stop him from talking was a muzzle, large, bulky, wrapped around the bottom half of his helm and hooked at the back of his neck cables.

Shockwave shakes his helm as well as he can, and the sharp feeling is back, pressing harder this time, and the soft sting of a thermoblade registers on his sensory net. Blurr traces the knife up his chassis, over his proud, purple insignia, and Shockwave jerks. He can feel Blur smirking when he presses down, just a bit, warping the paint and the sting turns painful for a moment.

The blade travels higher then, over his first shoulder plate, then-

Shockwave’s whole body arcs as the searing hot blades sinks into the seam between his treads, spike and valve spasming in tandem. That’s a sensitive spot, Blurr knows that, and in fact is snickering in delight as he delicately maneuvers the blade through, tracing through almost as if preening. His prisoner is shuddering now, charge sparking visibly on his frame. His cooling fans whine threateningly. His coolant reserves must be nearly depleted by now.

“Talk,” he whispers, and his voice is so clear that Shockwave is sure he must be right next to his audials. The autobot exhales a vent over his right antler, and he shudders. So, so close. “All you have to do is talk, and this will all go away.”

Never!, is his response, unintelligible between the muzzle and the vocalizer muting code they’d implanted just for this. Never, never, never! He’d sooner offline than betra-

The heat of the knife presses to the back of his neck cables, and Shockwave tenses in anticipation. His spark is pulsing, thrumming erratically, the very real threat of such a small, seemingly inconspicuous weapon spreading molten fear and arousal punching through his systems. Such an insignificant blade would hardly even warrant so much as a blink under normal circumstances, but here… here, he is at Blurr’s mercy. And Blurr is dangerous, any who would say otherwise is a fool. He’s a competent agent, one of the very best, intellect, ungodly speed, and a very real, very hidden vicious streak all rolled into one. It only comes to light in times like this, when his partner is completely at his mercy. He would have made a fine decepticon. He could tear Shockwave apart at any moment, and that excites him even more than kneeling at Megatron’s pedes.

“I’d rethink that if I were you,” Blurr is behind him now, he’s sure of it. He jerks his helm as if to follow him, but he’s still blind. He feels a slim arm wind around his chassis, the heated knife presses at the front of his throat. His first neck cable sizzles, and a bead of energon wells up. Then a second, and a third. It stings, and spills in a single, thin thread down his chassis, right over his violet insignia. “Talk!”

He stays as still as he can. For a moment, there’s only the sound of his wheezing breaths and the toy still buzzing mercilessly in his valve.

No.

There’s a clicking sound and he howls as the toys somehow speeds up, buzzing faster even though he’s sure it was already on the highest setting.

“What would Megatron think, I wonder?” Blurr is in front of him, his warm glossa licking a long, single trail from his pelvis to his neck, cleaning up the tiny bit of spilt energon. He kisses Shockwave’s neck for a moment, right over the wound, and he’s so hypersensitive that the little peck makes his whole body jerk. Never mind the sharp nip that Blurr delivers right after. “Maybe I’ll take some holocaps and send them to him.”

No, no! Not that!

“Would he appreciate it?” Blurr’s free servo closes around his spike, achingly hard and bobbing in the air. He pumps it twice, thrice, and it erupts in overload, spilling glowing transfluid all over them both. He can’t help it, he’s cum so many times, his whole body is going up in flames-

“We already know where he is,” he continues, giving Shockwave’s spike a cruel squeeze. He yelps. “There’s no use trying to protect him now. Talk! You can still save yourself.”

His helm is grabbed roughly, jerked down, and he’s sure that Blurr is glaring at the blindfold, right where his optic is.

He will not break. He will not surrender. Not ever.

No.

Blurr huffs, and the thermoblade returns. This knife is scraping sideways down his chassis, going for his insignia. The same one he’d worn proudly every day for over 4 million stellar cycles. Shockwave stills. He wouldn’t- no-

“Last chance, decepticon scum,” the interrogator growls, voice lower than before. “Before I rip this off and brand you an autobot.”

The overload that crashes over him is so intense that Blurr jumps back, electricity arching off of his lover's frame and scorching his servos. Shockwave’s whole body bucks, backstruts bowing as he rolls through wave after wave after painful wave of the most intense, processor-blowing pleasure he’s ever experienced. His severely darkened HUD blinks several warnings, blaring at him, every message interlaced with severe static before he drops offline, forced to reboot, body left limp and dangling in his chains.

He blinks awake laying on the berth almost a megacycle later, no longer wrapped in his restraints. He’s sore, every strut aches, and Blurr is sitting beside him with a shy smile and a cube of energon. “I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” the speedster sounds almost bashful.

“No,” his systems ping him scoldingly when he sits up. His helm throbs, and he definitely won't be walking properly for awhile. Still, though, underneath the ache, the war frame is deeply satisfied. “That was perfect.”

[cemetery-irises]

Okay Jarhead notes!!

Even without being covered in tomatoes he's kind of just... dirty in general? He looks very unkempt.

His gloves are stained with something suspiciously too dark to be soup... And him having thick gloves makes me think that he may claw at himself or something which would explain that.

His suspenders seem bolted to his outfit at the front, which may mean they're used to restrict him.

Little interesting note, the plate on his belt is metal seeing as his magnet sticks to it!! Which makes sense. Why they let him keep it is a different question.

... what is that? Is that a patch? A tear? Why?

The sauce is shaped like a tear....

Also they didn't care enough to give him two matching socks????? Also his boots look like they have rivets... Are they metal too?

god this is so so so interesting i'm incredibly mad i'm in post limit jail fuck this shit

[sidleyparkhermit]

for the word finder game, because i am very annoying but think i am very clever: "all" "use" "math" "every" and "day"

all (from magnetic reconnection ch.3, aka the time travel fic)

It was only much later, seated on the futon surrounded by notes and paper plates, warmed by the cozy fire in the fireplace, that Charlie really noticed how Larry had kept the conversation going nonstop at all the moments when Charlie should’ve stepped in to help pay for the food.

use (from magnetic reconnection ch.3, immediately before the previous excerpt)

The moment he hung up the phone, Larry resumed their conversation from yesterday, pulling notes out of his slim briefcase and making use of the available flat surfaces — which mostly meant the big Japanese futon mattress on the floor, because the desk in the corner was completely covered with books and papers already.

math (from then a miracle occurs)

The thing with Charlie was not some pervy secret that he needed to have a complex about. No one was coming to his door with pitchforks and hemlock if he acted on his feelings for a 30-year-old tenured math professor.

every (from the case is altered, the terror three-way bodyswap fic with eventual irving/bridgens/peglar) (which is not, however, the set of three people who get bodyswapped)

What was happening was so mysterious I could not guess at it — myself still being half-absent, as when one is woken from the very deepest of sleep and for a suspended moment barely remembers what it is to be human — but since this man spoke to me like a friend who believed he had every reason to be here, I would respond in kind and ask him for help, as I would ask a reasonable friend.

day (from then a miracle occurs. couldn't find this one in the singular anywhere, except in the chapters of magnetic that I already posted on AO3)

It was his first stop after recovering his ability to do things like walk in gravity — a process that had eaten up more days than he’d like. Rationally, he knew he was doing very well for a man who’d joined the space program at 50; still, he was impatient.

[etruatcaelum]

📂📂📂 for three of them! >:}

send 📂 for excessively granular hcs

ONE.

The modern practice of auralerie—aura manipulation—has its roots in the philosophical and theological writings of Azaria of Pinemoor. She termed aura the radix vitae, a primordial matter encompassing the four quarters of life: virtus, malus, nutus, and fatuus. (In modern practice, these are conventionally translated as virtue, vice, will, and fate: Azaria used fatuus figuratively to evoke the senseless, purposeless things which happen without reason.)

Azaria conceived of all living things as an admixture of the radix vitae with the eight rudiments: wood, iron, clay, resin, blood, water, glass, and light. Each rudiment represents one of the eight naturally-occurring dust forms.

Classical auralerie is no longer in widespread practice, having been displaced since the Great War by a more scientifically-minded outlook on aura, but prior to the fall, Beacon Academy still offers classical training as an elective option for interested students. The core tenets of this approach involve the pursuit of harmony between virtus and malus, and submission of the nutua to the fatuus, in order to balance the rudiments of the physical body.

TWO.

Remnant’s inner core is comprised mainly of ateroferric glass—a vitrified alloy of gravity dust and iron—suspended in a bubble of superheated atrum. The glass core exists in an agitated state, and is thought to be responsible for generating the planet’s magnetic field.

Above the core is a thick, viscous layer of molten silicates. This is denser than the underlying atrum: there is no scientific consensus regarding the mechanism that prevents it from sinking. Leading hypothesis include the possibility of the liquid interior having a rigid outer shell, and what is known as the emulsion theory—that is, that the silicate mantle does continually sink into the atrum layer, but is shredded and carried upward again by rising bubbles of atrum.

Irrespective of the precise mechanism, what is fairly certain is that convection in the mantle is driven partly by plumes of atrum rising from the liquid core. The upper layers of the mantle experience unpredictable turbulence driven by cooling of these atrum plumes, which has a significant destructive effect on the crust. Younger plate boundaries are characterized by high proportion ms of atrum in erupted materials; older ones extrude more magma.

Because grimm can survive under immense pressure and intense heat, it is not uncommon for effusive volcanic eruptions to erupt rivers of lava swimming with fully-formed grimm.

THREE.

Salem is intensely religious.

Her practice of religion is idiosyncratic and rather eclectic: she pays reverence to all four of the Tree’s aspects—those being the Artisan, the Walker, the Singer, and the Sleeper; to the God of Darkness; to the God of Animals, whom she still calls Omadios as was common in pre-antiquity Anima; and an assortment of other gods she’s collected through the centuries.

Whether they truly exist or not matters to her not at all. (In fact she worships Darkness specifically because he is gone.) Belief is not the point. She cares about the practice: the ritual, the acts of prayer and propitiation, the method that makes it real in every way that matters as far as she’s concerned.

The greater part of her scorn for Ozma’s zealotry is her loathing of the God of Light, but it is also partly motivated by her utter disdain for their praxis, which she thinks is hollow and spiritually vapid.

[earthscience-review]

Reposted from a school website: https://tonkawritingcenter.wordpress.com/

4 Things you (probably) didn’t know about the center of the Earth

Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to tunnel straight down through the center of the Earth? If you’ve never wondered about it before, I dare you to not contemplate the mantle after going through this Core Curriculum.

Under the Sea (there’s more Sea)

Your middle school earth science class likely gave you a clear mental picture of the Earth’s layers. There’s the oceanic crust, the mantle, the outer core, and the inner core. At no point is there another layer of blue between the rock layers. However, new research suggests that more of the ocean lies under the seafloor than above. These water reservoirs were created over billions of years as subducted tectonic plates brought down surface water.

Between which layers is the secret Sea? It’s a little more complicated than that. The first underground ocean is in the transition zone, between the upper and lower mantle. However, the water is stored not as a solid, liquid, or gas but in a 4th state: a solute in high-pressure rock.

Ringwoodite is a brilliant blue phase of magnesium silicate, which is only stable at pressures existing around 400 miles under the surface. An article published in Science in 2014 introduced the now-popular theory that this layer is a big step in the water cycle. If just 1% of the transition zone is H2O by mass, this layer has 3x as much water as the ocean.

Another study published in Nature Geoscience on November 13 found evidence that not all water subducted into the mantle stops in the transition zone. If the water reaches the core, it reacts violently with the core materials to form a thin layer of metallic liquid. This is the forbidden stage of the water cycle, and it explains phenomena climate scientists have been wondering about for ages.

2. The grind isn’t always 24/7

That’s right. 1.4 billion years ago, there were only 19 hours a day. Really, no two days are ever the same length. Many things have affected how long it takes for the planet to rotate. These include the moon’s gravity, the melting of polar ice caps, and even earthquakes.

Recently, however, the core has begun decelerating the planet’s spin. This is because the core spins independently of the mantle. The mantle and outer core are molten rock, but the intense pressure at the planet’s center keeps the inner core solid. The inner core is only suspended in the mantle and can slosh around however it (and gravity) wants it to. This solid piece used to spin faster than the rest of the planet, but a study published in Nature Geoscience in January suggests that since 2009, it’s been slower than the planet.

It’s unclear yet why the core is doing this. However, we know this affects the entire planet because of the conservation of angular momentum. Since the planet’s mass is redistributed, its rotational velocity changes.

3. Never Eat Soggy Waffles…unless?

We can also thank the core for the planet’s magnetic field. Heat radiates from it, driving convection currents that move electrically charged particles in the molten outer core. The field generated by those currents is responsible for shielding life on Earth from cosmic radiation. It aligns our compasses and shapes animal brains for navigation. However, Earth’s polarity has a tendency to switch up.

The poorly understood process of field reversal involves a 90% weakening of the magnetic field before the poles swap places. North and south flip at an average interval of 200,000 years. It’s been 780,000 years since our last reversal, which is longer than humans have been around. Since it was first measured in the 1830s, the strength of the magnetic field has decreased by about 10%. This trend and an unusual gap in the magnetic field over the South Atlantic Ocean caused some sensationalist science news last year over fear of a catastrophic field reversal in our lifetimes. The magnetic field rift that has caused satellites to malfunction is pictured below.

This plausibility of imminent field switch was denied in an article published by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences last year. The field will flip again. However, it won’t be instantaneous. Geomagnetic reversals take hundreds to thousands of years. So, we wouldn't know a switch was happening until it was more than halfway over.

4. The mantle brought you into this world, and it can take you out

Maybe you’ve heard of the Goldilocks Zone, an ideal size and distance from a star that planets need to support life. And while the planet’s position is crucial, so is catching its geology in its sustaining life era.

In a study published in Nature Geoscience this September, models that predict future climate change forecasted the end of all mammals in the distant future. 250 million years from now, it's likely that the movement of tectonic plates—pieces of the uppermost mantle—will form a new supercontinent, Pangaea Ultima. Because of its nature as a supercontinent, most life on it will be without the cooling effect of ocean currents. Volcanic activity and a hotter sun won’t help either. In the model, only 8% of Pangaea Ultima’s surface area will be habitable for mammals.

I hope you’ve learned something new about the center of the Earth! With the speed at which research is developing, this post could be outdated next week. Either way, it’s worth spending a little less time thinking about the world around you and more time thinking about the one beneath you.

Image sources:

https://www.sciencelearn.org.nz/resources/337-inside-the-earth

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/earth-sciences/news/2019/may/deepest-blue

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Atlantic_Anomaly

https://climate.nasa.gov/explore/ask-nasa-climate/3104/flip-flop-why-variations-in-earths-magnetic-field-arent-causing-todays-climate-change/

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41561-023-01259-3

References

Farnsworth, Alexander, et al. “Climate extremes likely to drive land mammal extinction during next supercontinent assembly.” Nature Geoscience, 25 Sept. 2023, pp. 1–8, www.nature.com/articles/s41561-023-01259-3, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-023-01259-3. Accessed 28 Sept. 2023.

Kim, Taehyun, et al. “A hydrogen-enriched layer in the topmost outer core sourced from deeply subducted water.” Nature Geoscience, 13 Nov. 2023, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-023-01324-x. Accessed 16 Nov. 2023.

Nilsson, Andreas, et al. “Recurrent ancient geomagnetic field anomalies shed light on future evolution of the South Atlantic anomaly.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 119, no. 24, 6 June 2022, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2200749119.

Schmandt, Brandon, et al. “Dehydration melting at the top of the lower mantle.” Science, vol. 344, no. 6189, 13 June 2014, pp. 1265–1268, https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1253358.

Yang, Yi, and Xiaodong Song. “Multidecadal variation of the Earth’s inner-core rotation.” Nature Geoscience, 23 Jan. 2023, pp. 1–6, www.nature.com/articles/s41561-022-01112-z, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-022-01112-z. Accessed 26 Jan. 2023.

[snowleopardcatdragon]

Some random studio stuff.

Top left is a lapidary machine. It’s basically a giant grinding wheel. It uses diamond grit wheels to grind and polish gemstones.

Top right is chemistry in action. The blue liquid is Sparex pickle. Pickle is an acid- sulfuric? Dont recall- used to remove oxides from metal after soldering. Copper gets suspended in it, and if you add iron it does a chemistry- something with ions? And causes the copper to deposit on metals in the pickle. In this case, Im copper plating over my messy silver solder joints.

Bottom video is a magnetic polisher. Its full if little steel needles, and theres a spinning electromagnet in the base. When the polisher is on, the magnet spins the needles and polishes your stuff. Its really good at getting down in all the little crevasses.

[pmgequipment]

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Website: https://pmgequipment.com

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[mpcomagnetics]

Suspended Plate Magnet

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[hongkongmaono]

Varieties of Different Types of Microphones

All amplifiers convert sound energy into electrical energy, yet there are a wide range of approaches to finishing the work, utilizing electrostatics, electromagnetism, piezo electric impacts or even the adjustment of obstruction of carbon granules. Amplifiers are utilized in numerous applications, for example, phones, recording devices, portable hearing assistants, film creation, live and recorded sound designing, in radio and TV broadcasting and in PCs for recording voice, VoIP, and for non-acoustic purposes like ultrasonic checking.

With regards to amplifiers utilized in music recording or live execution by far most of mouthpieces utilized are either capacitor or electrostatic or dynamic or types of microphones. The two kinds utilize a moving stomach to catch the sound, yet utilize an alternate electrical standard for changing over the mechanical energy into an electrical sign. The effectiveness of this transformation is vital, on the grounds that the measures of acoustic energy delivered by the voices and the instruments are so little.

Dynamic Amplifiers

Dynamic amplifiers work through electromagnetic enlistment. They are powerful, generally modest and impervious to dampness, and thus they are broadly utilized in front of an audience by vocalists. There are two essential sorts. The moving loop mouthpiece and the lace amplifier.

Dynamic mouthpieces enjoy the benefits of being generally modest and hard wearing, and they needn't bother with a power supply or batteries to make them work. A lightweight stomach, normally made of plastic film, is joined to a tiny curl of wire suspended in the field of a super durable magnet. At the point when a sound goals the stomach to vibrate, the entire gathering fills in as a smaller than normal power generator, and brief electric flow is created. Since the electrical result is so tiny, it must be enhanced utilizing a mouthpiece preamp. Dynamic mouthpieces are best while working with generally clearly sound sources that don't contain a ton of extremely high recurrence subtleties.

Capacitor Receivers

Capacitor mouthpieces have been around for a long time, and albeit present day ones really do integrate a couple of little specialized enhancements, the sound person has truly changed very little. Probably the best sounding capacitor ones were planned quite a while back. The primary piece of the capacitor receiver contains a couple of directing plates, one fixed and the other as a moving stomach. While the separating between the plates changes the capacitance fluctuates, and in the event that a proper electrical charge is applied to the capacitor, an electrical sign is delivered, which dependably addresses the stomach vibration.

Capacitors are more costly than their dynamic partners, yet they are likewise substantially more delicate, and can catch high recurrence detail considerably more precisely. Moreover, the capacitor standard, in contrast to the powerful rule, loans itself effectively to the creation of receivers with switchable pickup designs, albeit the less expensive models will generally offer simply a decent Cardioid design.

For More Details, Visit Us:

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[slightlymagicalcatalog]

Objects 0001-0099

0001 PEARLESCENT HAIR RIBBONS 0002 NOSEGAY OF BLISS 0003 SMALL POUCH OF MYSTERIOUS WHITE ASH 0004 LUCKY COIN 0005 COMB OF LENGTHENING 0006 CRACKED UNCANNY MIRROR 0007 UNHELPFUL SPYGLASS 0008 LINIMENT 0009 BURN CREAM 0010 CRUMB COMPASS 0011 MESSAGE FROM THE VOID 0012 VASE OF PERPETUAL BLOOMS 0013 ROPE OF INCONVENIENCE 0014 INFLATABLE BLADDER OF HUMOROUS NOISES 0015 DEMAGNIFYING GLASS 0016 HUMMING HONEY DIPPER 0017 JAR OF CHROMATIC NAIL VARNISH 0018 BOX OF HAMMERLESS NAILS 0019 ENCHANTED WASHTUB 0020 HOOPED GOLD EARRRING

0021 MYSTERIOUS IRON KEY 0022 WALNUT SHELL OF HOLDING 0023 PLATE OF LEFTOVERS 0024 RUG OF FOOTWARMING 0025 BREAD KNIFE OF DELICACY 0026 PET TAG OF PERSISTENT IDENTIFICATION 0027 PAINTBRUSH OF CONVENIENCE 0028 SHOELACES OF SECURITY 0029 TEACUP HOLSTER OF PROTECTION 0030 CARD DECK OF BOREDOM

0031 PRISMATIC WATER GLASS 0032 NUB OF UNENDING CHALK 0033 PACKET OF VITAMIN CANDY OWLBEARS 0034 MISTIMED POCKET WATCH 0035 ALPINE MUG 0036 SHADOW PUPPET LANTERN 0037 TEAPOT OF GOOD MANNERS 0038 CONVENIENT COOKBOOK 0039 GUMDROP BUTTONS 0040 EVERLASTING PEPPERMINT STICK

0041 FINGERLESS GLOVES 0042 AZURITE ICOSAHEDRON  0043 DELIGHTFUL CRAYON BOX 0044 SUSPENDERS OF DISBELIEF 0045 LORD NITEKON'S EVIL GOATEE OF EVIL 0046 JAUNTY FLAGPOLE 0047 PRACTICABLE PINCUSHION 0048 TRAVEL-SIZE RUBBISH PAIL 0049 KEY RING OF RECALL 0050 EFFICIENT GUM SCRAPER

0051 RIBBON OF CAPITATION 0052 ECHOING JELLYFISH 0053 CREEPY JOURNAL 0054 FENDISH FOSSIL 0055 SWEET TOOTH 0056 CATTY CARDBOARD BOX 0057 GLITTER JOURNAL 0058 ARGENTAURUM MAGNET 0059 EVERGREEN LAUREL WREATH 0060 INTERESTING POTSHERD 0061 ARCHAEOLOGIST'S LUCKY TROWEL 0062 WAX TABLETS OF THE MALIGNED POET 0063 KYLIX OF TRIUMPH 0064 GILDED APPLE OF DISTRACTION 0065 SHIELD MIRROR POLISH 0066 LITTLE SANDALS OF DESTINY 0067 WAND OF SAIL-SWAPPING 0068 KRONOLITH PEBBLE 0069 ITHACAN NEEDLE

0070 SCRAP OF BLUSHING PARCHMENT 0071 GOLDEN TWIG OF MORBID SHUDDERING 0072 NATURALIST'S PILLOW 0073 GARRULOUS GLANDES MOLD 0074 SPILL-PROOF AMPHORA 0075 STYGIAN STRAW 0076 HEEL-SEEKING ARROW 0077 GOLDEN GRIFFON STANDARD 0078 DAPHNE'S WAND 0079 DAEDALUS WAX 0080 INEFFECTUAL BAG OF WIND

0081 CURIOSITY BOX 0082 POMEGRANATE OF PLANAR ANCHORING 0083 TOOTH OF CHARYBDIS 0084 AESOP'S FABLES 0085 ARCHAEOLOGIST'S HAT 0086 TREASURE HUNTER'S HAT 0087 STELE OF REMEMBRANCE 0088 LIVELY AULOS 0089 GRAFFITI CHISEL 0090 BOBBING BATH DUCKIE

0091 MIKHAIL'S TABAXI BAG OF HIDING 0092 KAZOO 0093 BOOTS OF BUTT-KICKING 0094 MESSY INKWELL 0095 SMOKING SEALING WAX 0096 PINK PAPERWEIGHT 0097 PROTECTIVE PENCIL BOX 0098 RED METAL PIN BENDER OF DOCUMENT JOINING 0099 BLOTTING SAND OF MEMORY

[salonshop]

EyeContact (NZ)

In this spectacular, cleverly organised exhibition by Mokopōpaki we have several artists sporadically participating alongside Roman Mitch, but Mitch’s own sensibility (a dense mix of Duchampian referencing, a love of the mechanical innards, workings and outer cases of HDD and SSD technology, and use of Māori concepts) absolutely dominates. The gallery space where many of these works were first exhibited was ludicrously narrow, so being presented here in Pakuranga achieves a major transformation.

The show, with about thirty items, is rich in Duchampian allusion, and fun because of that: Wedge of Chastity, Trap, The Large Glass, Bachelors and Sieves, Rotoreliefs, “Fresh Widow”, Why Not Sneeze Rose Sélavy?, Bicycle Wheel, Dust Breeding, Chocolate Grinder (No. 2), Faulty Landscape, Given: 1. The Waterfall, 2. The Illuminating Gas..., A Glider Containing a Water Mill in Neighbouring Metals, Nine Malic Moulds, Three Standard Stoppages, Duchamp Playing Chess with a Nude (Eve Babitz). There are dozens of references. They never seem to end.

Plus, besides Duchamp’s Wedges, Yllwbro’s row of doorstops might also refer to Man Ray’s Gift—the iron with a vertical line of nasty carpet tacks down its centre. Or Mitch’s Zero Gravitas, with its suspended Miss Crabb Rise dress and attracted electroplated clusters, is possibly also a reference to Marcel Broodthaers’ Maria, with its black coat and egg-covered bag.

My favourite work is Rangitauninihi’s The Discipline of Choosing, a large section of gridded steel fence languidly leaning against the wall with a saucy black slip flung over the top. It seems to be feeding on Mokopōpaki’s textual contribution interviewing the artist about her very focussed choice in clothing, while also drawing in “Fresh Widow,” and Why Not Sneeze Rose Sélavy?, the birdcage, marble and cuttlefish work.

Mitch and his Mokopōpaki colleagues have set up a considered, elegant show that looks amazing with its pieces of checkerboard flooring and impeccably positioned panel-stencil-sprayed computer side panels, fetishized dark glass and b/w aluminium cases, a row of hard drive platters, a row of door wedges, and clusters of clinging chrome-plated ball bearings, clips and magnets. Though very ordered, the whole thing reeks of constrained delirium.

Mitch’s own suspended curtain of LED lights appears to reference The Illuminating Gas and The Waterfall, while his sprayed on electroplated and abraded side panels present an overt link to Chocolate Grinder. While these days computers are regularly commented on as enabling compulsive onanistic practices, I’m not sure that is quite Mitch’s point—though it probably is. It looks like, as with Duchamp, an allegory about art (the bride) and her desiring ‘bachelor’ viewers.

The nature of art recursively perpetuating itself is another big speculative factor, computer case panels here often serving as stencilling templates for coating other computer case panels, that also possibly serve as stencilling…etc.

This sprawling (in parts self-conscious and fiddly) Te Tuhi show is a bit unwieldy, but because it is extremely rich in art historical, conceptual and visual interconnections—and dynamically an optical treat, despite being in thrall to Duchamp—it rewards exploration. If I were curator I wouldn’t have included Mitch’s Art Store Drawings, or the works by Penelope Sue or Marcel Tautahi and Ngaroma Natalia, but I can see formally why they are mixed in. And if I were a fluent speaker of Māori or an expert on the finer science underpinning electro-mechanical data storage, I might determine if there is an important dimension or trope to many of the work titles I have not hitherto grasped—perhaps cross-cultural puns.

Whatever the case, the exhibition’s infectious formal exuberance and distinctive conceptual intricacy make it a compelling experience for any curious visitor. A physically and mentally engaging installation.

John Hurrell, Roman Mitch at Te Tuhi (Auckland: EyeContact, 26 October, 2022)

[hsmagnet]

Industrial Strength Magnetic Separators

Industrial Strength Magnetic Separators

Industrial Strength Magnetic Separators Industrial Strength Magnetic Separators are a safe, efficient product if handled properly. Learn the basics of proper magnet handling here. Magnetic separation and material handling process equipment for heavy industry From belt magnets to magnetic conveyors, HSMAG offers a wide range of magnetic equipment for mining & mineral processing, wood processing…

[littlemisspascal]

Fast Cars and Lightning Bolts Part 3

Pairing: Din x Female Reader

Word Count: 1200

Rating: T

Summary: “So…” Din says finally, and his voice is a magnet drawing your gaze helplessly back to him. He makes himself comfortable in the red leather booth by throwing an arm across its back and resting the other on the tabletop next to his empty plate where just a few crumbs of his bantha burger linger as evidence there was ever any food on it at all. “You’re going to build a car to beat Moff Gideon?”

Warnings: Helmetless Din, dialogue heavy, racing au, heavily inspired by Ford v Ferrari, language, worldbuilding

Author Note: EDITED AS OF 7/12/22

PART 2 // PART 4

A little after nine o’clock, the diner’s almost empty except for a young couple sitting three booths away, sharing a chocolate milkshake. It’s one of those disgustingly sappy public displays of affection that makes you feel vaguely nauseous to witness, but it’s currently the lesser of two evils considering the alternative is meeting Din’s gaze full of silent judgment. 

Not for the first time, you wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake meeting with him. It has been a long three months since your last encounter with him at Galma Raceway and while it hadn’t been particularly awkward per se, you wouldn’t describe it as pleasant either, so you weren’t sure what to expect from Din when he arrived. A part of you had wondered if he’d even show up. 

But he kept his end of the deal, if only for the free meal out of the arrangement, and he’d listened to your proposal without interrupting, though the critical wrinkling of his forehead grew further pronounced with every word, and really, that’s a hell of a lot more reaction from him than you could have ever anticipated. 

“So…” Din says finally, and his voice is a magnet drawing your gaze helplessly back to him. He makes himself comfortable in the red leather booth by throwing an arm across its back and resting the other on the tabletop next to his empty plate where just a few crumbs of his bantha burger linger as evidence there was ever any food on it at all. “You’re going to build a car to beat Moff Gideon?”

“Yeah,” you reply, popping a piece of meiloorun fruit into your mouth and praying he doesn’t catch the nervous trembling of your fingers. 

But of course he does, because those sharp brown eyes miss nothing, glancing down at your hand before meeting your eyes again in the span of a heartbeat. 

“Not just any car, but a Fett.” The scorn in his voice is so thick it presses down like a weight upon your shoulders and it takes all your self-confidence not to wince or duck your head. 

“Yeah.”

“Because Boba Fett asked you to do so.”

You nod, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip and ignoring the bloom of warmth in your stomach when brown eyes track the movement. 

Din’s quiet for a moment, running a hand through his dark curls. The background music playing through the diner’s jizz-box fills the void, but the low notes of the Barefoot Band do little to ease the tension digging into your chest and lower back. 

This is the first time in five years it’s just been you and him alone together, and his presence still captivates your soul, no denying it. You observe him in the faint red glow of the nearby neon light announcing the diner’s open status and marvel at how little he’s changed. He still wears the same long sleeve black t-shirt with matching suspenders holding up his dark brown cargo pants, still wears the same mythosaur pendant around his neck. There are a few new lines around his eyes and along his brow, some gray hairs peeking out amidst the dark stubble of his jawline—but he’ll always be beautiful to you. No amount of time or aging could ever change that.

“And how long did you tell them it would take you?” Din asks once he’s collected his thoughts. “A couple centuries at least?”

You can’t stop the rueful smile tugging at your lips. “Three months.”

Din laughs at that, a genuine one bubbling up out of his throat, brown eyes shining prettier than all the stars in the night sky. And there’s that warm sensation again, threatening to melt you into a puddle of affection right there where you sit. Maker, the effect this man has on you is unbelievable.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s just break this down for a moment.” Din sits up straighter, the term of endearment slipping off his tongue honey-sweet and you don’t have the strength or the will to correct him. “Let’s pretend you don’t have a time or credit limit. That they’re actually going to give you that blank check to do with as you please.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you grin, indulging in his session of make believe.

Except Din tilts his head, expression suddenly serious, catching you off guard. “Do you really think the Fett Motor Company will let you make the car you want the way you want it? You do know Boba’s the Daimyo of Mos Espa, right? A title he killed to achieve?”

You take a long sip of your drink in lieu of responding. Not that you really need to. Din knows you always do thorough research on your competition—whether they’re racers or they’re in the automobile industry—especially new ones emerging out of nowhere like Fett had done. 

“Don’t let them fool you, cyar’ika,” Din continues, and you’d roll your eyes at his protective nature if you hadn’t missed it so much. “I’m sure they’ll seem nice and friendly when you visit them, probably will all form a line and ask for your autograph. Because you’re Lightning Bolt, the darling of the racing community.”

You snort a laugh, shaking your head at the stupid nickname forever bothering you like a fly wherever you go. And you know Din knows you hate it, catching a glimpse of his mischievous smirk before he carries on with his ranting.

“And all the while, hidden away in Fett’s palace, they’re coming up with a dozen ways to control you like a puppet. Because controlling people is their specialty. And because—I don’t know if you’ve ever been told this by anyone but—you’re a reckless idiot.”

“Hey!” you squawk indignantly.

He levels you with a flat look. “You set yourself on fire the night you won the BEC, sweetheart.”

Defensive anger fills your chest where affection used to be, but you keep it imprisoned there instead of setting it loose upon Din, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I acknowledge your concern,” you say slowly, gently. “But this is too big of an opportunity for me to turn down no matter how risky it is.”

Din sighs harshly through his nose, looking away out the window. Disapproval is practically radiating off of every muscle in his body, but he holds his tongue. And back when you were together, you remember loving that about him. How he’d never hold you back from accomplishing your goals even if he worried they’d kill you.

“This car could change the whole sport of racing forever.”

The noise he makes is half-scoff, half-hum of agreement. “If you’re the brains behind it, of course it will.” His eyes meet yours again, stealing the breath from your lungs with their heated intensity. “There isn’t anybody else in the galaxy with a creative mind like yours.”

You swallow against your suddenly dry mouth. “Din, I…”

“What is it, cyar’ika?”

I miss you.

I love you.

“I want you to drive it.”

[molagboop]

I'd like to examine the statue in Corpius's boss arena. The asset's name is cut_54_scorpiusstatue. There's also another version called "scostatuefull_cut54". Assets related to Corpius are denoted with the term "scorpius". Whether this is a typo or an internal name isn't clear to me, but I'm not terribly bothered by it.

Judging by the upturned palm and the way the camera focuses on it during the cutscene, this statue may or may not have held the cube containing the Spider Magnet ugrade. There are two other large statues with unique designs that hold an upgrade cube in an outstretched hand, so it doesn't seem terribly implausible. Granted, the other two statues are holding their cubes a little closer to the ground, and this one's pretty high up.

Update: concept art further implies that it most likely held the cube.

That begs the question of how the cube got into Corpius's tail, but Chozo technology has a tendency to make use of both artificial and organic components. I'm capable of suspending my disbelief for giant monsters holding power suit upgrades in their flesh. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Corpius getting ahold of the cube was purposeful. The Mawkin are a tribe of warriors: the idea of having a fledgling hunter slay a beast to win an upgrade for their power suit as a rite of passage makes sense to me.

Anyways, that's enough about the cube.

The statue's forearm has three bands running across the underside. This may be depicting a type of gauntlet that is fastened to the arm with metal or leather bands: the rounded bits in the center of each band look almost like fasteners or buckles of some kind.

The scuted plates protecting the outer arm up to the hand seem to reinforce this idea.

There are cables connected to the back of the neck. You'll also notice there are circular bits on the slate above the statue's head. Four of the ceiling-bound cables (2 on each side of the statue, all localized behind the shoulders and on the back of the neck) descend from these pads. As for the purpose of the cables, I have two ideas. We have concept art of Chozo guardian statues connected to cables seemingly to divert power to them. Given that the statue is sinking, we could also assume the cables were included in its construction to keep it standing if the ground became unstable.

The shoulders aren't identical: as you'll notice in the images above, the one covered by the statue's carved cloak lacks the semi-circular armored covering we see on the exposed left shoulder. This pauldron has ruddy cable-shaped flourishes hanging from it. They remind me of those decorative cords or tassels you might find on an old English military official or a decorated noble. I have no idea what those are called, so if somebody who knows what I'm talking about and is more familiar with historical "high-status" or military fashion could weigh in, I'd be indebted to you.

The left shoulder also has a round spherical "joint" between the shoulder and the bicep.

The cloak is, in fact carved. The cables coming up the back of the statue don't actually connect with it, but in-game, the camera angle gives you the illusion that they are.

Onto the greaves. The armoring on the legs consists of metal plates, with a gap leaving the thighs free for mobility.

The rounded joints on the ankles and knees and the plating over the calves/feet are consistent with the design of a Chozo power suit, right down to the metal caps covering the talons and the protective plating that extends down the "thumb" of the foot.

While I'm comparing the statue to real Chozo armor, I'd like to point out that the overlapping plates covering the back of the neck are also a hallmark of the power suit, and it might not be so odd to see the shoulder "double capped" as we see on the statue's right arm. Compare the first image in the set below to the statue's thighs, and the second one to the shot of the shoulders/neck.

I used images of Raven Beak's power suit for comparison, but I don't necessarily think this is a statue of Raven Beak. It's not impossible, but it could also represent some other important figure in the Mawkin's history, or it was carved to resemble a non-descript warrior with a variety of traits that are packed full of tribe-specific symbolism. Heck, it could represent the Phantom Cloak's inventor.

In any case, it's a neat installation.