#coalescer separator

[minimac-mspl]

Understanding the Hydraulic Oil Separation Method: Techniques, Applications, and Benefits

Introduction

Hydraulic oil separation is a process designed to remove impurities from hydraulic oil, restoring its original properties and ensuring it meets operational standards. By employing specialized separation techniques, contaminants like water, air, and solid particles are effectively eliminated, prolonging the oil’s service life and reducing the risk of component wear and failure. Regular hydraulic oil separation offers multiple advantages. First and foremost, it prevents the buildup of harmful substances that can cause corrosion, oxidation, and sludge formation. This not only enhances the oil’s lubricating properties but also contributes to maintaining the overall efficiency of the hydraulic system. Furthermore, hydraulic oil separation helps minimize maintenance costs, extend equipment lifespan, and reduce downtime, making it a crucial practice for industries relying on hydraulic systems.

Why is Hydraulic Oil Separation Important?

Oil testing serves as a diagnostic tool to evaluate the condition of the insulating oil used in transformers. By analyzing the oil’s composition and properties, experts can detect potential issues such as contamination, oxidation, or degradation. This enables early detection of problems, facilitating timely preventive maintenance or repairs.Hydraulic systems are the backbone of numerous industries, powering critical machinery and equipment used in construction, manufacturing, and transportation. These systems rely on hydraulic oil for power transmission, cooling, and lubrication. Over time, the oil can become contaminated with water, air, and particles, which can significantly impact its performance and the efficiency of the entire system. This is where hydraulic oil separation comes into play, providing a reliable solution to maintain oil quality and system performance.

Oil contamination can lead to various problems, such as reduced lubrication, increased friction, and accelerated component wear. Water, in particular, poses a significant threat as it can cause emulsification, leading to reduced oil viscosity and poor lubrication. Additionally, solid particles can cause abrasive wear on hydraulic components, leading to costly repairs and replacements.

Hydraulic oil separation is essential because it allows for the removal of these contaminants, ensuring that the oil remains in optimal condition. By using appropriate separation methods, industries can achieve cleaner oil, which translates to improved system efficiency, enhanced equipment reliability, and extended service life. This proactive approach not only prevents potential failures but also contributes to cost savings in terms of maintenance and replacement expenses.

Types of Hydraulic Oil Separation Techniques

Several techniques are employed to achieve effective hydraulic oil separation, each catering to different types of contaminants and operating conditions. The most common methods include:

Centrifugation: Centrifugation is a widely used technique that utilizes centrifugal force to separate contaminants based on their density. When hydraulic oil is spun at high speeds in a centrifuge, heavier contaminants such as water and solid particles are forced to the outer edges, while the purified oil collects in the center. This method is highly effective for removing water and solid particles from hydraulic oil.

2.Coalescence: Coalescence is a technique that involves passing the contaminated oil through a series of coalescing elements. These elements attract and merge small water droplets into larger ones, which are then separated from the oil due to their higher density. Coalescence is ideal for separating water from oil and is commonly used in systems where water contamination is a concern.

3.Filtration: Filtration involves passing the contaminated oil through a filter media that traps solid particles, dirt, and debris. This method is effective in removing solid contaminants and is often used in conjunction with other separation techniques for comprehensive oil purification.

Vacuum Dehydration: Vacuum dehydration is a process that uses vacuum pressure to remove dissolved water and gases from hydraulic oil. By lowering the pressure, the boiling point of water is reduced, allowing it to evaporate at lower temperatures. This technique is particularly useful for removing both free and dissolved water, as well as entrained gases from the oil.

Applications of Hydraulic Oil Separation

Hydraulic oil separation finds its application in a wide range of industries where hydraulic systems are used, such as:

Manufacturing: Hydraulic oil separation is essential in manufacturing industries to maintain the efficiency and reliability of hydraulic presses, injection molding machines, and other critical equipment.

Construction and Heavy Machinery: Construction equipment like excavators, loaders, and bulldozers rely on hydraulic systems for their operation. Regular oil separation helps prevent failures and downtime, ensuring that the machinery performs optimally even in demanding conditions.

Marine and Offshore: Hydraulic systems used in marine and offshore applications are exposed to harsh environments and the risk of water contamination. Hydraulic oil separation is vital to prevent emulsification and ensure the reliable operation of cranes, winches, and steering systems.

Aerospace: Aerospace applications require precise control and high performance of hydraulic systems. Oil separation ensures that the hydraulic oil remains free from contaminants, enabling safe and reliable operation.

Benefits of Regular Hydraulic Oil Separation

Implementing a regular hydraulic oil separation program offers numerous benefits for equipment owners and operators, making it an integral part of a comprehensive maintenance strategy:

Enhanced Equipment Performance: By removing contaminants, hydraulic oil separation restores the oil’s original properties, ensuring that it provides adequate lubrication, cooling, and power transmission. This results in smoother operation, reduced friction, and improved overall performance.

Extended Equipment Lifespan: Contaminants can accelerate wear and tear on hydraulic components, leading to premature failure. Regular oil separation helps minimize component wear, extending the lifespan of equipment and reducing the need for costly replacements.

Reduced Maintenance Costs: Preventing contamination-related issues reduces the frequency of maintenance and the need for repairs. This translates to lower maintenance costs and minimizes unplanned downtime.

Improved System Efficiency: Clean hydraulic oil allows the system to operate at peak efficiency, reducing energy consumption and improving productivity. This is especially important in industries where high efficiency and productivity are key performance indicators.

Minimized Environmental Impact: Proper hydraulic oil separation and purification reduce the need for frequent oil changes and disposal, contributing to a more sustainable and environmentally friendly operation.

Common Issues Detected Through Hydraulic Oil Separation

Hydraulic oil separation can help identify a range of issues that may affect the performance and longevity of hydraulic systems, such as:

Water Contamination: Water in hydraulic oil can cause emulsification, reduced viscosity, and poor lubrication, leading to accelerated component wear and potential failure.

Particle Contamination: Dirt, metal particles, and other debris can cause abrasive wear, leading to damage to hydraulic components and reduced system efficiency.

Oxidation and Sludge Formation: Oxidation of hydraulic oil can lead to the formation of sludge and varnish, which can clog filters and reduce the oil’s cooling and lubricating properties.

How to Interpret Hydraulic Oil Separation Results

Interpreting the results of hydraulic oil separation is crucial to understanding the condition of the oil and making informed maintenance decisions. Professionals with expertise in oil analysis and system maintenance evaluate the results to determine the type and extent of contamination present.

For example, high water content detected through centrifugation or coalescence tests may indicate leaks or condensation issues, requiring further investigation. Similarly, the presence of solid particles identified through filtration may suggest a need for improved filtration or system flushing.

Minimac Systems' Hydraulic Oil Filtration Solutions

To ensure optimal performance and reliability of hydraulic systems, Minimac Systems offers Hydraulic Oil Filtration Systems designed to remove contaminants like water, dirt, and particles that degrade hydraulic oil. Our systems are built to handle the most challenging industrial environments, utilizing advanced separation techniques such as filtration, vacuum dehydration, and coalescence to purify the oil and restore its original properties. With our filtration solutions, industries can maintain oil cleanliness levels that meet or exceed industry standards, reducing the risk of equipment failure and extending the service life of critical machinery. The benefits include enhanced equipment reliability, reduced maintenance costs, and lower energy consumption, making Minimac’s filtration systems a crucial part of a comprehensive hydraulic maintenance strategy. By investing in Minimac Oil Filtration System, industries can significantly reduce downtime, prolong the life of hydraulic components, and maintain smooth, efficient operations even in the most demanding conditions.

Conclusion

In conclusion, hydraulic oil separation is a vital process for maintaining the performance, reliability, and longevity of hydraulic systems. By employing techniques such as centrifugation, coalescence, filtration, and vacuum dehydration, contaminants like water, dirt, and air can be effectively removed, restoring the oil’s quality and ensuring optimal system operation. The benefits of regular hydraulic oil separation are manifold, ranging from enhanced equipment performance and extended lifespan to significant cost savings and reduced environmental impact. By incorporating oil separation as part of a proactive maintenance strategy, industries can unlock the full potential of their hydraulic systems, ensuring they remain efficient, reliable, and ready to tackle the challenges of modern industrial applications. For more information - Click Here

[neathbound-fiends]

I do think it's funny that the Surgeon is the only person whose tag is not his name. like, calling this man Joseph feels so incongruous. who is that

[idealdieselmarine]

HANYOUNG Engineering Co. Ltd

We offer 15PPM Bilge Separator parts, including filters and coalescer filters for sale.

We export all types of marine filters worldwide.

Exporter of machinery and parts globally.

IDEAL DIESEL MARINE  

E-MAIL: sales@idealdieselmarine.com (Primary) 

               idealdieselsn@hotmail.com ( cc ) 

[sungov]

Innovations in Industrial Filtration: What’s New in Quick Opening Closures and Coalescers?

Why Innovation Matters in Industrial Filtration

In industrial filtration, innovation plays a major role. It enables businesses to achieve greater efficiency, safety, and environmental compliance. With advancements in technologies like the gas coalescing filter separator and coalescer filter for gas turbines, industries can now achieve enhanced separation efficiency. They can help in reducing contaminants and in protecting sensitive equipment. Quick opening closure manufacturers are redefining operational workflows by offering pressure vessel quick opening closures that improve safety and drastically help in cutting maintenance times. These innovations not only optimize filtration systems but also support the growing demand for sustainable and reliable solutions in industries such as oil and gas, power generation, and petrochemicals.

The Evolving Role of Quick Opening Closures in Filtration Systems

There has been a significant evolution in the role of quick opening closures (QOCs) and the need for which is driven by efficiency, safety, and adaptability in industrial operations. For systems such as gas coalescing filter separators and coalescer filters for gas turbines, QOCs have become essential components, allowing for faster access to filtration units during maintenance and ensuring minimal downtime. Leading quick opening closure manufacturers such as Sungov Engineering now offer advanced designs tailored to pressure vessel quick opening closures. These are engineered for high-pressure applications. These closures not only enhance operational safety with secure sealing mechanisms but also streamline processes in industries such as oil and gas, where rapid maintenance and reliability are critical. As filtration systems grow more sophisticated, the integration of innovative QOCs continues to elevate their performance and operational value.

What Are the Latest Advances in Coalescers for Industrial Applications

Recent advances in coalescers for industrial applications have revolutionized filtration efficiency and adaptability across various sectors. Innovations in gas coalescing filter separators have enabled more effective removal of liquid and particulate contaminants. This has significantly helped in safeguarding downstream equipment and in enhancing overall system performance. For coalescer filters in gas turbines, improved filtration media and compact designs now provide better separation while maintaining a smaller footprint. This makes them ideal for high-performance environments. In addition to this, the quick opening closure manufacturers help in contributing to these advancements by developing pressure vessel quick opening closures that simplify access to coalescers. This helps in reducing maintenance time and enhances safety in high-pressure applications. These advancements and more help in driving increased reliability and sustainability in industries such as oil and gas, power generation, and petrochemicals.

Sustainability and Energy Efficiency in Modern Filtration Solutions

Sustainability and energy efficiency are becoming central to modern filtration solutions. These help in driving innovations that balance performance with environmental responsibility. In modern filtration solutions, gas coalescing filter separators feature advanced materials and designs. This helps in enhancing separation efficiency while reducing energy consumption. Industries can now meet stricter environmental standards. In the same way, coalescer filters for gas turbines are rapidly evolving to optimize airflow and filtration. They help in improving turbine efficiency and also significantly reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Quick opening closure manufacturers are also contributing to sustainability by designing pressure vessel quick opening closures with minimal material waste and improved durability. This greatly extends the lifecycle of filtration systems. These advancements are helping industries reduce their carbon footprint and adopt cleaner, more efficient operational practices.

What Are the Future Trends in Quick Opening Closures and Coalescers

The future of quick opening closures and coalescers lies in smarter, more efficient, and sustainable designs that are tailored to meet the evolving needs of industrial filtration. For gas coalescing filter separators, advancements in automation and real-time monitoring are expected to improve separation efficiency while minimizing manual intervention. In the same way, coalescer filters for gas turbines trend toward compact, high-performance designs that enhance turbine efficiency and reduce operational costs. Quick opening closure manufacturers are focusing on innovations such as pressure vessel quick opening closures with enhanced safety features, lightweight materials, and faster opening mechanisms to streamline maintenance in high-pressure environments. In addition to this, the integration of IoT and predictive maintenance technologies plays a crucial role, enabling industries to anticipate and address issues proactively. This ensures long-term reliability and sustainability. These trends reflect the industry's commitment to improving performance while reducing environmental impact.

The location of installation of these Coalescers and Quick Open Closures are Nigeria, Kuwait and India.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Yesterday I was talking vocabulary with my manager. We’re both word geeks so it was a fun conversation. He said, “Okay so only three words in the English language start with DW, can you name them all?”

“My brain is not very sharp today. Let’s see.” I let the loading screen play for a while in my brain before a word percolated. I was just seeing what would float to the top. I got wisps of hobbit holes and cozy blankets before I said, “Dwelling.”

“Yeah- dwell, dwelling.”

“Those are separate words.”

“No- just. For the purposes of this they’re not.”

I looked at him skeptically and kept the search function going in my head meat. Planets and galaxies formed slowly and vaguely. A forge popped up briefly. I waited patiently for that to coalesce into, “Dwarf.”

“One more.”

At this point my brain just started melting and I laughed uproariously.

“What?”

“My brain is soup today. I just thought ‘dwiminish’ which is fucking nonsense.”

His eyes widened as he laughed too, “Thats actually so close to the last one!”

“Are you for real?” I started scanning for words that could possibly be close to ‘dwiminish’ when I finally got, “Dwindle.” I laughed even harder. “Guess my soup brain kinda knew what was up.”

Current list of words he missed:

Dweeb

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✩࿐

pairings: alhaitham, diluc, kaeya, and zhongli x gn!reader (separate)

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, arguments (unspecified reason), reader and character live together

summary: after a heated conflict with your boyfriend, you decide to sleep on the couch instead of together on your shared bed. how does he react?

a/n: shockingly, i'm not writing for any anemo boys this time. that's mainly because this is a gift for @spiritingawaytoanime for @favonius-library's gift exchange event! i hope you enjoy!

The sound of the front door closing is the only sound that can be heard as ALHAITHAM steps into your living room. An ocean of pitch-blackness threatens to drown him. The space lacks illumination. Darkness floods into every crack and crevice of your home, invading an otherwise peaceful space.

He breathes out a sigh as he walks down the hallway of your shared apartment. Alhaitham doesn’t bother flicking on the lights. He knows you’re probably asleep already, and he’d rather not disturb you, especially since you were in a foul mood earlier. So unpleasant, in fact, that you got into a petty argument with him. However, Alhaitham isn’t really that worried. He knows that in the end, you’ll be able to sort out your differences.

But when he enters the bedroom, he immediately feels that something is off. The air feels colder than usual, biting his skin with the ferocity of a thousand cuts. It’s unsettling and especially disturbing to Alhaitham because such feelings don’t often overtake his frozen heart. It almost feels as though the atmosphere has the ability to thaw his emotions, awakening a sentimental side of himself that doesn’t often show beyond his rational demeanour.

When he approaches the side of your bed, he instantaneously realizes what’s wrong. You’re not here. You’re not here. An unfamiliar feeling drives pinpricks into his heart. The sensation is strange, irritating, and it won’t go away. He hasn’t ever felt this way before. Perhaps this is another emotion to add to the list of new feelings being with you has caused him to experience.

Alhaitham sighs. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting this outcome. He had been far too cold earlier while you had been far too emotional. Ice and fire would never coalesce into a single being.

The feelings that accompany the situation are all a complete mystery to him. Nonetheless, he buries his emotions so that he can focus on finding you, maintaining his logical front in the face of such a precarious situation.

As your lover, he knows you well, so he’s almost entirely sure he knows where you’ve gone. Alhaitham shakes his head. He should have checked right when he entered the house. After all, the couches were right by the door.

Once again, Alhaitham walks blindly through the darkness, taking it step-by-step without so much as a stumble in his gait as he makes his way down a hallway that has long engraved itself in his memories. It’s odd. Alhaitham doesn’t usually go out of his way to become involved in the affairs of others, much less memorize details about their lives. But with you, everything is different. He remembers every single intricate thread of information in the web that forms your identity.

And perhaps that’s why he feels a sense of calm wash over him like cerulean waves on a pristine summer day as he approaches your sleeping form. As he takes in the sight of your silhouette against the backdrop of night, he notices that you appear to be shivering slightly. You don’t have a blanket on.

“Typical [name],” he whispers under his breath. 

Although his words sound rather harsh and slanderous, he utters them with hints of a small smile gracing his face.

Quietly, Alhaitham walks over to a closet in which you keep a multitude of blankets. He takes his time selecting one — after all, he’s in no rush. Eventually, he settles on a velvety blanket that feels soft to the touch. Although Alhaitham can’t exactly picture it in the dark, he knows that it will be sufficient.

So with an insurmountable level of care, he drapes it onto your body. Even though he can be insensitive at times, Alhaitham knows that you most likely want some space for now, so with a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek, he leaves the room.

The silence that fills the house rings in DILUC’s ears, shrieking in a manner reminiscent of thousands of crystal glasses shattering into pieces. It’s deafening. The space feels as though it is full of nothing but misery and doubt and yet it’s so, so empty at the same time.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of a clock’s arms snapping into place in one second intervals is the only sign of life within the building. Every space on the canvas of night is blank as if awaiting wonderous stars to fill the nothingness with inquisitive light. However, the illumination doesn’t come. Tales of galaxies serendipitously brightening worlds are simply idealistic fantasies from the minds of children. In the real world, things seldom end so well without any intervention.

So he decides to slowly get out of bed, leaving the warmth under the covers — a heat that feels far too stifling without you — in order to search for you. But as the abyssal air of night brushes against Diluc’s skin, he feels a shiver run down his spine. Nothing feels right without you by his side. He needs you. Now.

Diluc knows you’re sleeping on the couch. He saw you there when he was going to bed, but at the time, pride and petty emotions whispered words of spite in the depths of his soul, phrases that prompted him to ignore you.

As he navigates the dimly-lit hallways of your shared home, a wave of regret washes over him. If only things hadn’t gotten so heated when you were still immersed in the waking world together. Now you’re asleep, and he’s lost any chance he has of making things right today. If he wants to apologize, then patience will be crucial.

However, at the same time, Diluc wants to check up on you. So when he finally makes his way through the doorway of the living room, his eyes immediately land on your figure, burning with the light of a thousand fires, almost as though they are casting a glow upon your silhouette. The moonlight illuminates you, caressing every strand of your hair and highlighting every dip and curve of your features to make you look absolutely ethereal.

As Diluc approaches you, he notices that you’re barely covered by a thin blanket, and despite the feeble layer of protection, the frigid atmosphere of night seems to permeate your soul. He shakes his head slightly, sighing as he stares at you. No matter how angry he was at you during the day, Diluc can’t just leave you here to freeze.

So with bated breath, he picks you up while you’re still immersed in a universe of dreamy fantasies and carries you to your room. He thanks all his years of training with a claymore for giving him the ability to lift you. Although you’re not on the best of terms, Diluc is sure that you’ll make up once morning comes, and thus, a vibrant new dawn will overlook the horizon for both of you.

Shivers wrack KAEYA’s body as he tosses and turns restlessly in a bed that feels far too large and far too empty for his liking. It’s peculiar. The cold rarely bothers him, yet now, without you by his side, the frigidness of the night air is far too potent for his liking. Tendrils of night creep under the covers overtop him, wrapping around him with an icy fervor, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he can’t.

It’s as though the brighter part of himself has faded away with the radiance of the sun, giving way to an indescribable melancholy that settles into every inch of his being, taking all that he has and becoming all that he is. The cold is so much more unbearable without your warmth, and it doesn’t take long before he realizes that he won’t be able to close his eyes peacefully and drift into a tranquil world full of glacial wonderlands. Instead, he’ll lie awake, alone in your freezing bed — a place that feels far too desolate without your presence.

Hours stretch on and on, twisting and turning in a way that morphs them into a neverending story. As time goes on, the unsettling embers that had once singed the pit of Kaeya’s stomach grow until they blaze brightly, morphing into a raging fire. It’s unbearable, and he knows that he has to do something or else his mind will continue nagging at him for the remainder of the evening.

With cautious movements, he sits up and climbs out of bed. It’s awfully quiet in the house. Usually, flirtatious remarks and passionate displays of affection fill the void within your home, transforming it into a utopia overflowing with wonders. However, at the moment, none of that exists. Perpetual darkness and transient flashes of anxiety are the only things present at the moment. However, he manages to carefully make his way down the hallway without much issue. The creaking of the floorboards is the only noise that cuts through the silence hanging in the air.

As Kaeya enters the living room, his eyes land on a figure lying on the couch. It’s you. He breathes out a sigh, approaching you. Kaeya can see the rising and falling of your chest, hear your gentle breaths, and feel you exhaling once he leans in to examine your face. You look as though you’re at peace — a stark contrast to your earlier demeanour, an act fueled by feelings of rage and spite.

A small smile tugs on the corners of his lips. You look ethereal, although slightly pitiful, your face tinted with the light of the moon. His heart breaks. You appear lonely without his arms wrapped around you. Kaeya feels the urge to pull you into his embrace, hold you tight, protect you from the unknown monsters of the night.

But instead of doing anything, he simply stands there. After your explosive argument, he’s still hesitant to touch you. However, upon closer examinations, Kaeya sees you shaking like a leaf in an intense gale. You’re freezing. And that’s the final straw.

Your boyfriend finally breaks under the weight of your needs and his desires. With steady movements and a fragile touch, he lifts your body just the slightest bit — barely enough for him to climb onto the couch under you. Gradually, he sets you down, laying your head down on his chest. His fingers graze over your features as he eyes you with a gaze full of admiration.

“Sweet dreams, babe. We’ll figure everything out once the sun rises.”

ZHONGLI sighs as he settles atop the plush covers of your shared bed alone. It feels cold — far too frigid for his liking as darkness encroaches, and although he glances out the window in hopes of seeing a single shard of fragmented starlight, he is greeted with nothing more than the sight of an endless abyss devoid of radiance. 

A chill permeates every bone in his body, gnawing at him in a way that serves as a perpetual reminder that you’re not beside him right now. It’s strange. For once, Zhongli feels restless. He’s usually so calm, so composed. But at the moment, he can’t help but worry. 

You’re not here with him. Instead, you’re out in the living room, curled up alone on the couch. Zhongli can picture you in flawless detail — every dip and curve of your troubled face, the shadows that shroud you in a cloak fashioned from midnight, and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe in and out. He feels a longing that he hasn’t felt in centuries. He wants to be beside you to trace your features, to prevent the glacial fingers of night from creeping down your back, and to feel your breath fanning his face.

However, he knows that no matter how hard he wishes, his hopes and dreams will have to be put on hold for now. In hindsight, it was a bad idea to let you escape into the land of slumber without trying to work things out with you first because now, Zhongli feels as though he won’t get a wink of sleep. At least, not without you by his side.

Eventually, he caves to all the thoughts running through his head; guilt threatens to swallow him whole. So instead of continuing to chase sleep, Zhongli gets out of bed, and although the night air sends a shiver down his spine, the sensation is nothing compared to his need for you. Quietly, he makes his way into your living room, trying to keep his footfalls light out of fear of waking you up. His eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness, so he navigates the house without any real trouble.

When he arrives at his destination, his gaze immediately zones in on a silhouette lying on one of the couches in the room. Although obscured by darkness, he knows that it’s you. Cautiously, he bends down to observe you. Zhongli raises his hand in order to caress your cheeks, his touch feather-light as if he’s afraid that you’ll shatter.

He wants nothing more than to wake you right now and talk things out, but he doesn’t want to disturb your slumber. You seem so peaceful despite everything that happened earlier, and besides, Zhongli is sure that with time, the two of you will make up. Your love for each other is much stronger than any form of false resentment fostered by petty arguments. After all, the illusions created by a deceptive heart are far too easy to dispel with feelings of everlasting passion and affection.

So instead of rousing you from the oneiric realm of dreams, Zhongli sits down on a couch beside the one you’re lying on. Although his mind has not completely settled yet, it feels less perturbed with you by his side. As a master of patience, he decides that he’ll wait for you to wake up. He’ll wait for the first rays of light to grace the face of the earth in order to greet you with a smile and an apology once you open your eyes.

Thank you for reading!

[andreablog2]

I think swingers/polyamorous people were a symptom of toxic individuality. I think this phenomenon happens when people feel limited by only having themselves/their partner as a frame of reference. Especially if overtime they and their partner have coalesced….and experience everything together. I think it’s why people cheat too. You don’t even need to be in an open relationship to solve this you can simply just have your own separate hobbies and friends that don’t overlap. Idk how related it is to codependency, bc I have seen codependent relationships where both party is completely different. It’s more of an issue of both party being so solipsistic, their concept of their romance is like an extension of that where they basically mirror each other.

[kinascum]

LATER, BOY - M. STURNIOLO

SUMMARY: Nerd!Matt admires Popular!Reader from afar until he gathers the courage to approach her, sparking a journey of self-discovery and budding romance.

CONTENTS: NERD!Matt, POPULAR!reader, second hand embarrassment from Matt, Matt's a simp im sorry

WORDCOUNT: 745

next part (coming soon)

Matt's eyes remained glued to the screen of his phone, scrolling through the endless feed of social media updates. His thumb hovered over the heart button, contemplating whether to like or pass the latest post from Y/N, the vibrant girl who always had a smile for everyone. Her laughter echoed through the school halls, and her voice was a melody that filled every corner with warmth. He had heard it a hundred times, but had never dared to join the conversations she so effortlessly navigated.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up. Y/N was there, in the flesh, standing just a few feet away from him, surrounded by her usual gaggle of friends. Her eyes met his for a brief moment, and she offered a smile that seemed to be just for him. His heart stumbled in his chest, and he quickly returned to the safety of his screen, cheeks flaming. It was a daily dance, one he was too scared to break out of. But today was different. He felt a strange resolve coalescing within him, urging him to step out of his comfort zone.

With trembling hands, he shoved his phone into his pocket and approached her group. The air grew thick with anticipation as he got closer, each step feeling like a mile. "Hey, Y/N," he managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper. She looked over, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Hi, Matt!" she exclaimed, her voice as cheerful as ever. The others in her group turned to look at him, and he felt the weight of their collective gaze. His heart was racing now, a wild stallion in his chest.

"I just wanted to tell you," he began, the words tumbling out faster than he could control, "that I think you're really amazing. Like, the most amazing person I've ever met." He felt the heat of his own embarrassment, but pushed through it, his eyes never leaving hers. The group had gone quiet, watching the unfolding scene with curious expressions. Y/N's smile grew softer, and she took a step closer to him. "That's really sweet, Matt," she said, her voice gentle. "Thank you."

For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Then she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "But, I uh... I have to go. I'm late for practice." And with that, she turned away, leaving him standing there, stunned. His heart sank, the brief spark of hope extinguished by the cold reality of his situation. He watched her retreating back, the words he had rehearsed a hundred times in his head now seeming so trivial. He had taken the plunge, and all he had to show for it was a simple thank you.

The conversation around him resumed, but he barely heard it. His mind was racing with thoughts of what he could have said, what he should have done differently. But as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, he realized that he had done it. He had talked to her. And she had talked back. It was a small victory, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him after all. As he gathered his books and started walking to his next class, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope, a glimmer that grew stronger with each step he took away from the shadow of his shyness.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. His mind kept replaying their brief interaction, analyzing every word, every gesture. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, that the invisible barrier that had separated them for so long had been breached. When the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, he found himself walking home with a slightly lighter step, his thoughts swirling with the possibility of what could come next.

The next day, as he made his way to his locker, he saw her again. She was talking to a group of friends, her laughter pealing through the hallway. His heart quickened, and he felt the same fear and excitement that had gripped him the day before. But this time, he didn't hesitate. He walked straight up to her, his books clutched tightly to his chest. "Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice a little steadier this time. She looked up, her eyes meeting his, and she gave him a smile that seemed to hold a hint of curiosity.

"Hi, Matt," she replied, her voice as bright as the sun. "How was your day?" He swallowed, trying to form a coherent response. "It was okay," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. "I heard about the game tomorrow," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Are you going?" He nodded, his heart racing. "Yeah, I might go." It was a lie. He had no intention of going to the game, but the thought of seeing her there made his palms sweat. "Maybe I'll see you there," she said, and with a wave, she was off again, leaving him to stare after her, feeling like he had just been handed the world on a silver platter.

The days that followed were a series of small moments like this. They passed each other in the halls, exchanged brief hellos, and occasionally shared a smile. Each interaction was a tiny victory for Matt, each smile a beacon of hope that grew brighter with every passing second. He began to feel less like the invisible nerd and more like a boy with a chance. He started to pay more attention to his appearance, wearing clothes that made him feel confident, practicing his smile in the mirror until it didn't feel forced. The slow burn of their friendship was growing into something more, something he hadn't dared to dream of.

tags! @sturnstvs @gxldenlush @immattsslut @slut4chriss hope you liked!

[saetiate]

cora! this event is such a cute idea :’) humbly requesting temperance with rin itoshi please. gn reader is fine!

itoshi rin x reader (gender neutral), wound-tending, fluff wc: 0.5k ❥ valentines event (requests still open!), co-written with @venustrvck a/n: AAAH i feel so nervous u r the first req i'm posting :')) THANK YOU SM for participating friend !!!

There's blood. More blood than he thought, down his face, down the sink. It trickles down the curve of white porcelain and coalesces at the bottom; rivers of blood conjoining into a lake.

There's a knock at the door. "Rin."

He ignores it. Who would want their partner to see them like this? Bleeding out his nose and his cheek. Weak, Sae would say. Lukewarm.

"If you don't open this door," the white lacquered wood separates you, a barrier he's put up on purpose, muffling your voice. "I'm going to break the door down."

Rin snorts. Like that's about to happen. He draws a stinging line down his cheek as he slides an alcohol-soaked cotton across the cut.

"You think I can't do it? Haven't you seen those videos where babies get stuck under cars and the mothers lift the car?"

The door swings open, his long arm catching it at the edge. Rin's hair is in his face, bangs clinging to his forehead with sweat. He's giving you the worst side-eye, bright blue shining in slits from behind his strands under the unforgiving bathroom light. "I'm not your baby."

You step into his space, too close for his comfort, not close enough for his needs. Let yourself into this part of him that he's been trying to hide from you. "You might as well be."

Rin busies himself with his reflection, making every attempt to ignore you, ignore the unfurling shame in his gut, despite your concerned face creeping through his side-view.

"How bad is it?"

Rin doesn't answer. You cup the uncut side of his face with one hand.

"I'm here for you. You can show me."

Warm hands enclose his own as you gingerly grasp the cotton pad; you take it away with gentle fingers. He doesn't turn. He doesn't look at you. Your voice turns into something gentle. "Let me do this for you."

He wants to hide. Wants to run away. That furrowed space between your brows is the last thing he wants to see. He can't do either of those things, so he closes his eyes.

And then all he knows is your warmth, your body pressed against his. There's the sound of shuffling, and a new, cool alcohol-dipped cotton ball is pressed to his cheek. He wants to hiss at the contact, but he bites the inside of his cheek instead. He's shown enough weakness to you today.

"It's okay, Rin." You say it almost knowingly, your hand moves to the back of his neck, bringing him down so you can better reach. "There's nothing wrong with letting someone else take care of you."

You think he mumbles your name.

"It's me, isn't it?" You're so close to him that your nose brushes against his. The cotton pad moves down over the abrasion on his jaw, clearing away the grime and leaving rough, red skin in its wake.

"It's just me, so you can show me if it hurts. No one else has to know."

It's like a cleansing of sorts, his body relaxing against the counter, leaning his face into your hands. A cleansing from the situation, from all the times he wasn't able to say what he needed. Don't you know that there are those who would take without remorse, what you give to him so freely?

This time, when you press against his wound, his hand tightens where it holds your waist.

[dykesynthezoid]

I love the theories that Irv has been able to “naturally reintegrate” to a degree, and tbh I don’t think it would be happening just bc of sleep

We can deduce that the severance procedure preserves the outie’s procedural memory, emotional conditioning, and non-autobiographical semantic memory. The innies can remember how to do procedural tasks like driving a car, they tend to have similar baseline emotional attitudes, negative emotions from their outies can carry over, and they can recall objective information about the world. It’s only autobiographical information and episodic memory that the innie is cut off from.

(Interestingly, the outies are, comparatively, cut off from more types of memory than their innies are. The outies don’t appear to be able to access semantic information or procedural memory from their innies; which makes sense, because otherwise they’d know way too much about what Lumon was up to).

We see in early season 2 that innie Irving has leaned into his existing procedural memory for artistic expression. The combination of drawing (his outie’s procedural memory) and the subject being Burt (an explicit visual memory and emotional trigger only innie Irving has access to) is essentially combining memory and brain functions that originate from both the outie and innie. Pairing them together strengthens the possibility for Irving’s two separate brain patterns to begin to overlap and coalesce.

The questions Reghabi asks Mark while reintegrating him point to this canonically being a relevant part of the reintegration process. She switches between questions about autobiographical information (what color were your mother’s eyes? an explicit episodic memory) to objective semantic memory (name a dam, what does MDR stand for) emotional conditioning (what is something for which you feel shame) and back again.

[minimac-mspl]

Understanding the Unit of Viscosity: A Key Parameter in Lubrication

Introduction to Viscosity

Importance of Viscosity in Lubrication

In lubrication, viscosity determines how effectively a lubricant can separate moving components, reducing friction, preventing wear, and minimizing energy loss. Using the wrong viscosity lubricant can lead to either inadequate protection (if too low) or increased drag and energy consumption (if too high).

For industrial machinery, oil and grease formulations are selected based on viscosity SI units and standardized measurement systems like ISO VG (Viscosity Grade) and SAE (Society of Automotive Engineers) viscosity grades.

Viscosity SI Units and Other Measurement Units

Viscosity is measured using several units depending on whether it is dynamic viscosity or kinematic viscosity.

Dynamic Viscosity (Absolute Viscosity) Units

SI Unit: Pascal-second (Pa·s) or milliPascal-second (mPa·s)

CGS Unit: Poise (P) or centipoise (cP), where 1 P = 0.1 Pa·s

Common Industrial Use: Centipoise (cP) is frequently used in lubrication industry applications.

Kinematic Viscosity Units

SI Unit: Square meter per second (m²/s)

CGS Unit: Stokes (St) or centistokes (cSt), where 1 St = 10⁻⁴ m²/s

Common Industrial Use: Centistokes (cSt) is the most widely used unit in industrial lubrication, with ISO VG ratings based on kinematic viscosity at 40°C.

Understanding Absolute Viscosity (Dynamic Viscosity)

Absolute viscosity, also known as dynamic viscosity, refers to a fluid’s resistance to shear stress. It measures the force required to move one layer of fluid over another.

Formula:

Where:

= dynamic viscosity (Pa·s or cP)

= applied force (N)

= area of the fluid layer (m²)

= velocity gradient (s⁻¹)

Dynamic viscosity is used to determine how a lubricant behaves under mechanical stress and is critical in applications involving gears, hydraulics, and compressors.

Understanding Kinematic Viscosity

Kinematic viscosity is the ratio of dynamic viscosity to the density of the fluid. It represents how fast a fluid flows under gravity.

Formula:

= kinematic viscosity (m²/s or cSt)

= dynamic viscosity (Pa·s or cP)

= density of the fluid (kg/m³)

Kinematic viscosity is widely used in industrial lubrication standards such as ISO VG ratings, which categorize lubricants based on their kinematic viscosity at 40°C

Viscosity vs. Kinematic Viscosity

While dynamic viscosity measures a fluid’s internal resistance to movement, kinematic viscosity considers both viscosity and fluid density. In lubrication, the kinematic viscosity-to-viscosity relationship helps in determining how a lubricant will behave under real-world operating conditions.

Coefficient of Viscosity Unit and Its Role

The coefficient of viscosity represents the relationship between shear stress and shear rate in a fluid. It is often synonymous with dynamic viscosity in Newtonian fluids. The coefficient of viscosity is crucial in industries where precise viscosity control is required for operations like metalworking, automotive lubrication, and hydraulic systems.

Viscosity Measurement Units and Techniques

Measuring viscosity requires specialized instruments that ensure accuracy in selecting the right lubricant.

Common Viscosity Measurement Techniques:

Capillary Viscometers (Ubbelohde, Ostwald) – Used for kinematic viscosity.

Rotational Viscometers (Brookfield Viscometer) – Measures dynamic viscosity.

Falling Ball Viscometer – Determines viscosity by measuring the falling speed of a ball through the fluid.

Redwood and Saybolt Viscometers – Used in petroleum industries.

Each method provides valuable insights into the viscosity behavior of lubricants under different conditions.

Conclusion

Understanding viscosity measurement units and their significance in lubrication is crucial for selecting the right lubricant. Absolute viscosity (dynamic viscosity) and kinematic viscosity serve different purposes but are interrelated. By using viscosity SI units like Pascal-seconds and centistokes, industries can ensure optimal lubrication performance, reduce wear, and enhance machinery longevity. For more information - click here

[idealdieselmarine]

TAIKO KIKAI TYPE- USH-10- Coalescer-for 15 ppm bilg separator New QTY 3-4PCS MAKER: original We do export worldwide all types of marine filters, Exporter of machinery and parts Worldwide IDEAL DIESEL MARINE E-MAIL: sales@idealdieselmarine.com (Primary)

[sungov]

Diesel Coalescer Packages: Ensuring Clean Fuel for Critical Engines

What are diesel coalescer packages and how do they work to ensure clean fuels?

In the quest for clean and reliable fuel in critical engines, the diesel coalescer packages have a very important role to play. So, what exactly are these packages? To begin with, a diesel coalescer package is a sophisticated filtration system that is designed to remove water from diesel fuel before it reaches the engine. This system typically includes a coalescer filter. Imagine the coalescer filter as a high-tech sponge that gathers water droplets that might otherwise wreak havoc on your engine. It is a vigilant guardian that ensures only the cleanest fuel makes its way to your engine.

But how does it work? The magic happens through a process called coalescing, where the coalescer filter combines tiny water droplets into larger ones, which are then easily separated from the fuel. This clean fuel gas coalescer system not only extends the life of your engine by preventing corrosion and wear but also boosts overall performance by ensuring a steady supply of pure fuel. With a diesel coalescer package in place, you can rest easy knowing your engine is protected from the potentially damaging effects of contaminated fuel.

What are the different types of Coalescer Systems?

Every coalescer system is tailored for specific applications to effectively manage fuel purity. There are different types of coalescer systems and here is a list of a few of them that are commonly used:

Single-Stage Coalescer Systems:

These systems feature a single coalescer filter that removes water from the diesel fuel in one step. Ideal for standard diesel engines and machinery where fuel quality is important but not critical. These coalescer systems are often used in less demanding environments or where maintenance is relatively straightforward.

Dual-Stage Coalescer Systems:

This type of coalescer system uses two separate filters—one for coalescing water, and the other for finer filtration. The first stage removes water, while the second stage works on the fuel to remove any remaining liquid or gas contaminants. This system is commonly used in high-performance engines and sensitive equipment where the need for utmost fuel purity is critical. This setup is generally used in industries such as marine, aviation, and critical infrastructure where fuel quality directly impacts operational efficiency and safety.

Pre-Filter Coalescer Systems:

These systems incorporate a coalescer filter as a pre-filter before the fuel reaches the primary filter. The pre-filter coalescer removes liquid, allowing the primary filter to handle further filtration. The pre-filter coalescers are useful in applications where the fuel is subject to high levels of contamination, such as in construction or heavy-duty trucking. They help extend the life of the primary filter and help improve the overall fuel quality.

In-Line Coalescer Systems:

Installed directly in the fuel line, these systems continuously filter the fuel as it flows through the system. This system is often used in automotive and industrial settings where space is limited but the need for effective fuel filtration is necessary. In-line systems are designed to provide real-time filtration without requiring extensive installation space.

Self-Cleaning Coalescer Systems:

These are advanced coalescer systems that include mechanisms for automatic cleaning of the coalescer filter. This reduces the need for manual maintenance. With features such as sensors and automated systems, these kinds of filters ensure consistent performance. Suitable for high-maintenance environments and applications where the room for downtime is almost negligible. 

What are the factors to consider when choosing the right Coalescer package for your engine?

It is very important to choose a coalescer with the appropriate flow rate and capacity for your engine size and fuel consumption. We have listed a few points that can help you make the right decision:

Identify the common contaminants and select a coalescer that is designed specifically for that issue

Consider the source of your fuel as it plays a vital part in determining the contamination levels

Ensure that the coalescer can handle the pressure levels in your fuel system

Look for coalescers that are easy to maintain and service, with clear guidelines for filter replacement and cleaning

Consider the lifespan of the coalescer elements and how frequently there is a need to replace them

Assess how the coalescer will integrate with your existing fuel system and if it requires any modification

Compare the upfront cost of different coalescer packages and consider your budget

Factor in the cost of maintenance, filter replacements, and potential downtime

Choose coalescer packages from reputable manufacturers with a history of reliability and performance

Consider the availability of customer support, technical assistance, and warranty options

Diesel coalescer packages have a major part to play in enhancing fuel efficiency and in reducing the environmental footprint of diesel engines. The coalescers prevent contaminants from premature wear and damage because it critically removes water and particulates from diesel fuel. By doing so, you can ensure smoother engine operation, improved combustion efficiency, and optimized fuel usage. 

When you are dealing with cleaner fuel, you are not only ensuring that the engine runs more efficiently but you also play a part in contributing to better fuel economy. In addition, coalescers reduce the amount of unburned fuel and emissions that are released into the atmosphere. They help in meeting stringent environmental regulations and decrease the overall environmental impact of diesel-powered equipment. 

In a nutshell, investing in high-quality diesel coalescer packages is a proactive step towards achieving both operational efficiency and sustainability.

[fayes-fics]

Breathe (In The Air)

Pariring: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, 1970s AU

Summary: A night camping out under the stars

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, recreational drug use (cannabis), body hair used in foreplay, vaginal fingering, blow job, woman on top, unprotected vaginal sex.

Word Count: 2.6k

Authors Note: Request fill for Anon (HERE) asking for a sequel to 1970s hippie Benedict, travelling around in his VW bus selling his artwork at music festivals. Sorry for the gif; there was nothing else that remotely fit. The original story is HERE. The title is a Pink Floyd song. Thanks as always to @colettebronte for the beta. I hope you enjoy Nonny. I do enjoy this AU ngl. <3

“What do you want from life?” 

You loll your head to the side to observe his handsome profile as he stares towards the dome of vibrant stars above.

“I have no idea,” you confess, turning to look skywards again, moonlight glowing through the swirl of smoke you exhale, your fingers toying with the tassels of the soft cotton blanket you both lay upon.

“I want adventure…” he declares, rubbing a hand over his bare midriff absentmindedly.

“Hmmm, that sounds wonderful,” you admit, handing him back the joint, that languid feeling enrobing your mind as the THC kicks in.

It's a temperate summer night, and you are lying together naked, tinny strains of music from a portable radio as you camp in a wildflower meadow en route to the next festival. After a series of magical nights with Ben in his VW bus at the last one, you couldn't resist when he offered for you to continue the journey onwards together. 

He takes a deep drag, the tip glowing like the campfire you are lying in front of, before placing it aside into a metal ashtray and rolling over so he hovers above you, warm skin upon yours.

“I am glad you are on this adventure with me,” he remarks with a lopsided grin, the captivating beauty of his face dancing in the firelight.

“Same.” you concur, reaching to touch the daisy chain buried in his halo of riotous curls, somehow the blooms looking more vibrant in the serene state you are slipping into.

His hand slides languorously down your body from your throat to your lower belly, mapping your fire-warmed skin before lacing his fingers into the downy hair at the apex of your thighs, stirring that nascent buzz between your legs.

“I think this beautiful garden needs some flowers,” he opines silkily, his fingers circling in the strands there, petting gently as his brow twitches into a tempting arch.

He leans over you and plucks a few forget-me-nots from the tall grass, carefully separating each bloom on your stomach. Then, delicately, he weaves each tiny flower into your small thatch of hair, a mild tickle as the stems brush over your skin, making you giggle quietly. He smiles softly, your eyes meeting, then both tracking down the plane of your body as he continues to work quietly, humming gently along to the music.

“There… perfect,” he pronounces proudly; a few moments later, 

It does indeed look pretty: bright blue tiny flowers that contrast strikingly with your hair and skin. 

“Even in this, you are an artist,” you quip blithely.

He smiles demurely through his lashes, shuffling lower and resting his head upon your diaphragm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns around your belly button, his breath puffing warm over your flesh. Allowing the jangle of electric guitar from the radio to fill your bones, your fingers run idly through his luscious locks as your mind floats like cotton in a breeze. The moment seems fleeting but everlasting all at once, profound but insignificant, being so small under the twinkling constellations above. It all coalesces into a sharp need to feel rooted in your body. So you draw your knees up and allow your legs to fall open—a blatant invitation. The apple of his cheek presses into your belly as he smirks knowingly without looking up at you, sensing your need without you needing to voice it, so in tune with your body and desires since the night you met.

“Every beautiful garden should have a sacred fountain…” he rumbles, fingertips spidering down again over the floral weave to tease your splayed inner thigh before sliding casually lower, parting your folds, exhaling roughly at the wet warmth he finds there.

You moan; the mellow cloud you float upon heightens the sensation rippling through your being as his fingers circle your clit, his warm lips suckling gently on your stomach as you writhe under his touch. His name is a sigh upon your lips, his movements unhurried but the perfect amount of pressure. He huffs sonorous praises into your belly as he forms a tighter circle over your swollen bud, moving faster now, your hands flying to the blanket, scrunching in your fists as your head rolls to one side, wanting to bite down upon something, the pleasure coursing through you amplified by your high. 

Whimpering as he slides his fingers lower, two breaching your body, desire thick and viscous dripping upon him as he pushes further in your pussy. The sensation of his knuckles dragging over your walls makes you gasp and call out, your body arching up off the blanket, a heavy throb in your abandoned clit. 

“Please, Ben…” you implore, greedy for more.

He shushes you and unfurls slightly, his fingers flexing inside you as he rearranges to press his whole body into your flank, his cock teasingly hard against your hip, using his free hand to haul one of your legs over his, pulled open to his attention now.

“Don't be impatient; we have all the time in the world,” he tuts sinfully, his lips hot on your throat, grazing the tip of his teeth lightly over your jugular. 

Your protesting mewl is cut short by his fingers twisting inside you, a dragging sensation that makes your eyes roll and your whole abdomen clench.

“I could do this for hours,” he confesses silkily, his breath hot on your temple. “I love the look on your face when I do this…”

He curls his fingers, a probing sensation that makes you groan and your face contort, your mouth now hanging open. He chuckles triumphantly before twisting his wrist again and beginning a rocking motion, wringing a sound from your body that, before you met him, you may have been ashamed of, but he lauds every time. Him murmuring how proud he is that he can do this to you.

But it is not quite enough to push you to the edge as fast as you are craving, more of a slow swirling ascent that has you lighthearted and with laboured breathing, your abdomen rippling as all your muscles tense and release in waves, as if willing your orgasm closer, an itch in your brain you need to scratch. It has you pleading with him to take pity, go a little faster, rougher, anything…

“Syncopate, sweet girl…” he purrs, “listen to the music, breathe in the air, float away with the universe…”

Each word is a lyrical wave tumbling from his lips in a rhythm that matches the movement of his fingers inside you. So you relax back, savouring the multisensory journey, allowing the flow to take you rather than chasing immediate pleasure. Something morphing in your body as you do so, a serenity that is bone-deep, riding the gentle waves of pleasure that lap at your edges while his fingers dance lightly upon your g-spot.

“That’s it….” he rumbles approvingly, intuiting your surrender.

He slips down to enclose your areola in his hot, wet mouth, once again causing a spike of pleasure that has you clenching upon his fingers and canting up. A firm hand on your solar plexus pushes you back down with a chuckle that vibrates your nipple, now firm under his tongue. And so he continues the slow, wondrous torture, swapping to your other breast.

You swear you can feel every blade of grass under your shoulders through the soft cotton weave, the energy of every star above you in the sky coursing through his touch deep inside, every note of the song playing reverberating under your skin. A high, so delicate but earthy, as if everything is turned up to eleven on a dial, tangy and bright, like popping candy throughout your entire being.

It's then he swipes his thumb over your engorged clit; you could swear a supernova fires in your synapses, the sensation all at once too much, and with a few flicks, you are clawing at the blanket and his skin, biting your lip, circling that phenomenal bliss.

This time, he doesn't relent, his lips sucking your neck as with a cry that you are sure startles every animal burrowed in the surrounding fields; you are breaking. Almost febrile, your entire being flushing hot, every muscle tensing, your pussy grasping his fingers to the point he growls, driving his stiff cock into your hip, precum smearing over your skin. Still, it’s something you barely sense, your entire focus pinpointed on the sensations coursing through your body.

At last, you fall back, exhausted and panting, feeling his fingers slip slowly from your body with a gush of moisture that leaks across your bottom. You turn your head to look at him, mind awash, unable to form words. His responding smile is smug, crooked and sheer debauchery, his fingers still wet with your arousal, tracing soothing patterns over your ribs as you come down.

“May I return the favour…?” you croak finally.

Before you know it, he is rolling onto his back next to you, an expectant, joyous look upon his face, eyes tracking pointedly to his navel as do yours. His cock standing proud and leaking slightly—a mouthwateringly inviting sight.

He howls, and his whole body flexes as instead of taking him in hand, you dive low and bring his cock into your mouth, so rigid and searing. That tart taste is strong on your tongue as you suckle upon his head, allowing your tongue to press against his frenulum in a cresting wave. He groans staccato, his pelvis tilts, unable to resist the urge to push a little deeper, one hand landing heavy in your hair, twining some strands between his fingers, an anchor he needs as you begin to bob up and down sucking hard, your cheeks hollowing.

The wash of your high enhancing every second, as if in tune with his body—the micro spasms rippling across the plane of his washboard stomach, the flutter of his long eyelashes, the blunt scrape of his rounded fingernails over your scalp, the pulse of his vein on your lips as you slowly allow him to pass through the tight ring of your mouth, teasing him as much as he did you.

You chuckle as he huffs as you pull away and instead lick the length of his shaft with a questing tongue, your hands encircling his base and squeezing softly, enjoying the handful he provides, watching a bead of precum form that you lavishly lick up. He groans again, his head thrashing upon the blanket, the delicate fronds of daisy petals scattering like confetti into his chestnut waves as he does so, his lip flushing magenta where his incisor worries it.

It makes you sit up and stare down upon him wantonly, so utterly beautiful in his untamed arousal. His eyes fly open, glassy and pleading in the campfire glow, pouting fractionally at the lack of your mouth upon his cock, your hand still pumping him gently. Instead, you swing a leg over his and, without a moment of hesitation, sink onto him, inhaling shudderingly at the invasion, your pussy still inflamed from your recent orgasm.

The look of absolute pleasure and reverence that claims his handsome features feels burned into your retinas as his hands fly to your hips, pushing you down flush to his body, his pubic hair tickling your distended slippery clit, his tip rocking into your hilt in a way that makes your eyes roll.

“Don't move, not yet, just feel…” he counsels, his eyes closing, licking his lips and encouraging you, with the flex of his fingers, to rotate your pelvis, to feel him drag against all your walls. 

And so you do, scratch your nails delicately down his abdominals as you stare out to the inky horizon where the navy sky meets the blackened outline of the hedgerows in the distance—again, letting the melodic song seep into your bones, feeling the heat from the dancing flames.

You lean back and arch your spine, placing your hands upon his kneecaps, his legs bending slightly to meet your grip. His hands roam upwards, over your belly and ribs, enclosing each of your breasts in his large grip, a beeline right to your core, already a live wire again, desire coursing in every fibre of your being. 

Then in a deliberate slow drag, you rise slowly before dropping swiftly, revelling in the way his cock pushes you open. A groan from deep inside your being a match to his—throaty, low, wrecked. You begin to set a languid pace, riding him, gripping his knees behind you and staring at the stars above, feeling as if they surround you, tiny lanterns floating just beyond your reach.

“Look at me,” his call is soft, unfocused, imploring, and you tilt down, your breasts squashed into his palms as your eyes meet, something profound in the glimmer you find in the dilated blackness.

Sex has never been this unrestrained before now. Being with him is liberating, wild and luxuriant every time, be it under the influence or not. But tonight, somehow greater than the previous, an inherently verdant setting, alone in the wilds on a balmy night, away from the crowds always in your periphery at the music festival. A large part of you wanting this to be your new forever—naked and feral, entwined together for a blur of future days and nights. A want to live a primitive life of base urges, to feast and to fuck, to be at one with the land, the seasons and the bounteous simplicity of nature.

Time feels elastic as your thighs start to burn from the exertion. Still, you do not stop, not for a moment, too caught up in the tide slowly rising once more and sensing the same in him. A growing desperation in the way his fingers dig into your flesh, in the wild beating of the prominent vein in his neck, in the rise of his hips to meet yours, spearing up as you bear down so it feels like there will always be the imprint of him inside you.

He calls your name, the callus where he holds his paintbrush catching perfectly over your clit as his fingers quest between your legs, hooking you with unerring precision. Catapulting you fast towards a dizzying high again, his movements growing urgent, his jaw tight, so close to breaking. It is barely a moment before you snap again, stilling upon him as you scream with abandon, fluttering around his rigid cock. He groans loudly and, with a few final jerky spasms, comes hard, his toes curling over, his ropey thighs turning rock solid under your bottom as he fills you, a symphony of praise falling from his lips, some not even in English.

And then you are slumping on top of him, his smooth chest tacky under your cheek as you gulp for air, the rustle of the breeze through the nearby trees and the hiss and pop of the logs upon the campfire the only sounds now, the radio falling silent, likely needing new batteries. He slips from your body as you curl your hands around his biceps and snuggle upon him. His long, lean arms wrap around your torso, enveloping you within the large blanket you were lying upon and dropping a kiss upon your dewy brow.

“We can bathe tomorrow in the river,” he hums gently into your hairline.

You nod drowsily, the pull of sleep too beguiling to resist. And that is how you drift off, resting atop him, his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear, the burbling sounds of nature encircling you.

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies

[peariote]

death's sweetheart

request; I have a Victoria Neuman request that draws inspiration from Rio Vidal and Agatha Harkness' relationship where the reader's abilities matched those of death due to the compound V that was given to them as a baby and they have a complicated love hate relationship with Victoria and the boys basically find out that Victoria is in a relationship with the literal personification of death during the barn scene.

warnings; blood, death, canon-typical violence. traumatized kids (you and Vic). y'all are basically divorced parents. stan edgar and butcher get their own warning.

You were forcefully introduced when you were both just children. Not in the traditional sense; there were no friendly parents pushing you together, or classroom seatings, or stuffy, overcrowded summer camps. But, thinking back on it, perhaps it is the fault of your parents—yours, for shooting you up with V, and hers, for doing the same and then dying. 

The memories you hold of this moment are hazy, slightly distorted by age but sharped by the sheer distress you felt. One moment you were happy under the sun, submerged in the salty ocean for the first time, held sitting by your mother’s soft, yet water-wrinkled hands. The next you were torn from it all, falling and flailing until you landed… somewhere else. 

Suddenly, instead of warm sand and cool water there were cold tiles against your nylon-covered behind and sticky, the lukewarm blood pooled there coating your small hands and the backs of your legs.

Two bodies lay, headless and circled around you, luminescent mist coalescing above their chests. Without thought you reach for one of the masses, and it reaches for you. It enters your crimson palm, wiggling past your skin in a way that makes you shiver violently. The other one twitches as the first is absorbed, shooting to your other palm and writhing its way in. 

Only after the sensation passes and the unsettling tremors stop do you notice her. She’s small, knees curled to her chest in the corner, with the biggest eyes you’ve ever seen. You’re taken back to the doe you saw, grazing on the edge of your backyard. You’d stared, and it met your gaze head on. It crept closer, slowly, despite there being no incentive. Then your brother had come rushing out, feet pounding on the wooden deck, and the bright-eyed creature fled back into the shadows.

She stares at you in much the same way—though with terror you’ve never glimpsed in your short life, swelling waterline making her eyes glossy and overflowing down her bloodied cheeks. You attempt to stand, but your small, childishly-clumsy hands slip in the floor’s crimson sheen. Instead you scoot, staying low and crawling towards her. She cowers, bottom lip quivering, eyes intent on your outreaching hand. Not much changes, but a decision is made—she reaches out. 

Her fingers meet yours, bloodied palms pressing tight enough to make the sanguine liquid drip down your wrists. She shifts, and you do as well, squeezing into the corner next to her. It’s a tight fit, but it’s warmer being next to her than sitting alone on the tile—especially only in your swimsuit, doing nothing to halt the cold settling over the kitchen. 

You sit there far too long to tell, long enough that the police kick down the door. Their knocking had reverberated through the entire house, but when you’d moved to get up and let them in she’d tugged you back down by your hand and pulled your very veins towards her. You felt the pounding in your neck, the straining in your arteries, as they attempted to separate you. It mirrored her own, dragging you into her panic unintentionally. When your fingers slipped, slick, down to her wrist, the bold thump, thump, thump echoed the hammering against your skull. 

Eventually they take you together, a tall, broad officer raising you both in his arms. The sirens you heard before are no longer muted, loud and ringing in your small ears. They load you into the back of it, place you down on the stretcher with the care of parents you’ve both lost now. You’re unsure how far away you are from your mother. Will you ever find her again? It hurts to ponder, so you just press closer to your silent companion.

The sirens halt, finally, and the pair of you are hurried out and fussed over. Once they find you both uninjured, their gazes switch from worry to some kind of moony-eyed curiosity, as if they’d found a two-headed cow and not two children refusing to part, traumatized by the gore joining their hands. As if you’re dolls to bathe and clothe and tuck into a bed. 

The appeal faded quickly. They couldn’t find out who you were, and the girl—who refused to talk—had just lost hers. Now, burdened by two children in a busy hospital, they sought out other alternatives. You heard whisperings about your bloodwork, something abnormal the two of you shared. The nurses spoke out in the hall, but their voices still reached you. How they spoke unsettled you, their low tones and conspiratorial murmurings speaking of powers and super and the name of a place you’d never heard—Red River. You curl tighter around her and try to appreciate the care while you have it. Stubbornly, you attempt to stay awake, even as the girl falls into restless sleep, hoping that if you’re awake you can stave off whatever comes for you. But it’s, unfortunately, pointless. You drift off, despite your stubborn attempts, and you wake up in a different bed, with the girl still clutching you. At least they didn’t take her. 

“Oh fuck!” They all race into the barn one-by-one, wincing as the flying sheep slams head-first into the closed door. You can hear her heaving breaths, briefly exerted by the chase. It makes you huff a laugh. The sound snaps all attention to you, wide eyes and gritted teeth greeting you. Sat on a hay bale, you’re still coaxing a soul from one of the researchers. He’s a stubborn man, worried about his children—but it’s his time, unfortunately. You’d hoped that there would be a bit more time before they noticed you, but surely it was inevitable.

“Who the fuck are you?” The french man huffs, blistering with faux-confidence, even as his shoulders draw up with fear. 

“You’ll find out, in time.” He blanches at your ominous murmur. You pay him—and the rest of his companions—no mind. Truly, despite your attempts, your eyes lock in on her. You can’t resist the pull of her. Especially not when she looks so disheveled, blood dried on her cheek and her perfect, slight curls out of place. So you coo at her, smile wide. “Nadia.” 

Before she can respond—though, you have no doubt she had something brewing, ready to snap, her trembling hands fisted at her sides—her “father” steps between the two of you. Or hobbles, really. He’s really gotten old, grey at the temples. You can feel the wisps of him already reaching out. They feel sour on your fingertips as you brush them, the motion, though invisible to everyone else, makes both Stan and Nadia—Victoria—stiffen. 

“Don’t.” He insists, his eyes narrowing much in the same way hers do. Well, it’s more likely that she’s like him. Always paranoid—though you can’t blame him. He doesn’t know the full scope of your powers, but then again, no one does. “It’s not your time, Edgar. Stop it. We do this every time.” You bite flippantly, exhaling a sharp breath at his condition. It’s not as if you want to take him—really, he could stay for all you care. His soul’s rancid enough. You don’t want that on your hands. 

“So, is anyone going to tell me who the fuck this is—?” 

“Shut up, Butcher!” Victoria’s voice makes the place go silent. There’s a heavy pause, the stale air feeling very limited all of a sudden. 

Thump. Well, there’s that sheep again. Relentless, really. You want to give it more thought, you truly do, but you’re interrupted quite rudely by Victoria’s voice. 

“What are you doing here.” She’s stiff. She must think you’re here for her. Truly, you’re always there for her, but now you’re just doing your job. You’re not interested in collecting her, even as the blood-soaked thing in her chest pulls against her ribs. The familiar tug at your pulse point returns, the unconscious actions of her powers making you smile. You’d missed that feeling. 

“I’m just here for the bodies.” 

“Liar.”

“When have I ever.”

Her jaw grits visibly, even across the room. Stan interrupts her vicious stare by stepping into your gaze, even as he addresses the rest of the group. You think they’re unimportant, but sure. Have him misconstrue your relationship yet again, to an audience this time.

“They were… childhood best friends. She knew Victoria before I adopted her. Despite the fact that she was left behind—” the last words are harshly pointed, needling you despite its pointlessness, “she still came back, deflowered my daughter. Left her pregnant.”

Victoria flushes prettily at that, the blood blooming as sweetly under her skin as it does on it. It really shouldn’t embarrass her after this long—she knows how he feels about you, about your daughter.

“Okay—not the point. I was twenty, already thoroughly deflowered.” Victoria huffs, brushing a frizzing ringlet from her cheek. Starlight—that’s her name, right?—gapes openly. 

“...you’re both women.” The blonde murmurs, stark with confusion. The look you both aim at her makes her shrivel as if she wasn’t, at one point, a member of the largest superhero organization in the entire world.

“...I can bend the rules a little bit. Every once and a while.” You murmur, suddenly, intensely focused on picking a piece of dirt from under your nails, as if your words explain everything. A barn spider hovers near your shoulder, spindly legs working the web closer and closer until it can drop down without injury. The French man shutters, but you don’t even spare it a glance.

“...right. So. Aside from that.” The blonde tries to pivot, though awkwardly, and turns the conversation back to the quivering scientist—Henry? You hadn’t paid him much mind when you came in, only here to collect his colleagues, but something told you to stick around. There’s a wound you feel, a stream of blood steadily dripping that you know Victoria herself senses. He won’t be alive long. Still, they have to get out of here with the virus and alive. Mostly. You wouldn’t protest a few extra souls, though some of them would be less than pleasant to collect.

Prickling at your neck, Victoria’s gaze burns into your skin. She doesn’t falter, even as her companions’ discussions spiral further and further into chaos, problems about the virus and how many lives they’re willing to sacrifice popping up. 

“Well, I’ve already gotten four today. We can increase that number… or you guys can stop being dumbasses and just get out of here alive.” 

They all pause, the argument breaking so they can turn and look at you. The gruff Australian man, who’s name you’ve parsed is Butcher (probably because they’re all yelling at him) speaks up. 

“So we’ve got a serial killer in our midst?” He grunts, as if everyone in this room doesn’t have a body count. 

“Not exactly.”

“Oh, so you’re just the grim reaper, then? Where’s your cloak?” Despite his low tone, it’s obviously supposed to be a joke. When you go silent, glancing over to Victoria, he squints. You barely see it, but he falters—taking a shaky, small sidestep. Where he thought he was going—could go—is a mystery to you. 

“...Jesus Christ.” You’re not sure who says it—your eyes are focused, locked with Victoria’s. She stares back hard, eyes already glinting with that milky white sheen you love so much. As if she’d be able to. You’re not even sure you can die.

“Let me see our daughter and I’ll get you all out of here.”

She pauses, thinks. That you admire, for the few seconds you get to. She was never so thoughtful before—always brash and breaking things. It’s preferable in situations like these, but you can’t help but miss Nadia.

“...fine. Let’s go.” The irritation doesn’t drop from her face, instead deepening between her brows and around her mouth. Yet, when you smile, all teeth, her lips can’t help but quirk.

© peariote, 2025

[radioactiverats]

I was listening to the Mama mia soundtrack the other night and lay all your love on me came up and normally I listen to the abba version so the switching vocals caught me off guard. Anyways it totally had me thinking of Starscream with cadet or even with a cybertronian reader in general.

Me trying to sleep but hearing "don't go sharing your devotion" and " don't go wasting your emotions; lay all your love on meee" : that's so Starscream and cadet coded. :')

My transformer brain rot is terminal at this point lol.

Oughee I love abba!!

Through that lens, a possessive undertone in "Lay all your love on me"... You'd think it's Starscream with the "don't go sharing your devotion" part (and it is) but honestly? Cadet would share those feelings too... I imagine a war leaves you very emotionally dependent on Starscream without actually realizing the depths of your dependency, simply because you're more than okay with it. On the basis of a recent ask, I have been wondering what our reaction would be if another similarly-aged flight frame entered the picture. This AU's Starscream is similar to Ratchet in that he can't resist his calling. He used to be an instructor - he can't resist teaching if he sees techniques that need improving. Before you, no one else could fill your niche nor competed for it, and you quietly, selfishly, guiltily, hoarded all your quiet intimacies to yourself. One of the reasons you push yourself so hard is because you don't want him to pick someone else - and what if, despite all your efforts, he spends days training someone else, anyway? It's totally innocuous, to be honest. But because you're probably slightly maladjusted with the war and the dependency, the fallout is not... pretty.

Besides that!! These are the songs I have been listening to recently (sorry for yap) and the low-poly kebab scenarios I am thinking about :,)

Slipping through my fingers all the time I try to capture every minute The feeling in it Slipping through my fingers all the time

He's working, as he always is these days. You'd offered to read some of the datapads and summarise the information for him, so he wouldn't have so much to do, but he'd waved you away with a scoff and a dramatic flick of his wings. "What, you think datapads are beyond my capabilities now?" He'd scoffed, but his tone had gentled when he ushered you off to bed.

You hadn't listened. Pulling your knees up to your chassis, you think you're the only bot who can get away with disobeying his orders and live to tell the tale.

How long had it been since you'd been able to recharge together? He has work to do. You know he has work to do, and you simultaneously resent it while refusing to get in the way of his duties. Nevermind recharge, it had felt like aeons since he'd been present at any of your training sessions. Refueling separately had become a habit. How was it that he sat not two meters away from you, yet the maw of distance yawned wide between you like a black hole? Not wanting to disturb him, it started off as glances. Glances descended into looking, which spiralled into outright staring at his back as your processor went haywire.

Stop it, you snarled viciously at yourself. Why are you afraid of losing him when he's right there?

Why are you mourning the living?

Your logic center contemptuously informs you that you're being ridiculous. Emotions, however, obey no one, and scream at you that one day, all this will come to an end.

Despite your attempt at discretion, Starscream knows you've been glancing at him every two kliks from where you're perched on your shared berth. The glances are obvious, but the reason for them is not.

Finally, he drops his datapad on his desk with an aggravated sigh. "I can barely focus when you're staring daggers into my back like that. What is it?"

Caught red-handed. His irritation melts abruptly away, coalescing into confusion and concern, frowning as he takes in your wide, fearful optics.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You whisper. He'd simply scoff if he ever knew that you were panicking about something so arbitrary. "I'll recharge now."

You turn onto your side, facing the wall. Back to Starscream. It had been barely a few kliks of forcefully shuttering your optics when a warm servo was insistently at you to turn over. Cycling your optics open in confusion, you in-vent sharply when you see Starscream's faceplate inches from yours, lying next to you.

"Don't 'nothing' me," Starscream scolds, but his voice is low and pitched to soothe. "Out with it."

"...It's stupid."

Starscream makes a noise that's somewhere between laughter and exasperation. "I don't care. At the very least, let it out so you stop sulking. Both for my sake and yours."

You take a klik to study him. The sharp lines of his faceplate, the slate grey that you'd come to associate with him. Clever, glowing optics, narrowed when you'd clearly taken too long to speak. And... lines? A Cybertronian's faceplate was essentially living metal. Starscream was incredibly expressive; his faceplate would contort in ways to make sure you knew the entirety of what he felt - whether it be anger, satisfaction, or disgust. It seemed that vorns of this had shaped a noticeable weathering of the metal on his faceplate - one that you'd only become aware of just now.

Your intake quivers.

Starscream's optics search yours. Gentle. "Cadet. What could be so terrible that it has you in such a state?"

"Don't go," You blurt. "Don't leave me."

Confusion twists his features for a nanoklik, and it only serves to exemplify the faint lines that beset his features. Your spark twists as well.

"I'm right here," He offers. Trying to soothe, but only solidifying the fact that he doesn't understand.

"Don't die," You choke out. There. Was he happy now?

Starscream studies the tremulous wobble of your intake.

"We're all going to die eventually."

"You can't," You insist, coolant clouding your optics, clinging to stubbornness in favour of blind panic. "I won't allow it."

Starscream simply watches for a few kliks as coolant stains your cheeks.

Then, he's gathering you to his chassis, his voice a low and comforting murmur.

"Oh, cadet. Don't be silly, hm?"

His servo sweeps slowly, back and forth, over the broad expanse of your wings.

"This existence is the best I could hope for. And when I go out, there's no one I trust more to give me a proper send off."

"B-but," You hiccup. "What do I do when - if - you're gone?"

"You remember what I taught you," Starscream says. He pulls back to look you in the faceplate, a gleam in his optics.

"You remember what I taught you, and you use it to stay alive. If I find you on my heels right after reaching the Well of Allsparks, I'll flay you myself."

It takes you a while to get the next question out, because your vents are too busy choking themselves while you roughly swipe coolant off your faceplate. Starscream, however, is uncharacteristically patient for a worry that seems more childish than anything.

"...Will you wait for me there?"

You know there's no answer to something like that. Hell, the Well of Allsparks might not be real. But the idea of never seeing him again claws at your spark, and you're desperate enough to be placated by fantasies.

Starscream presses his lips to your helm. "Of course," he murmurs. And for a moment, the conviction in his voice is so strong that you almost believe it might be real.

I was an impossible case No-one ever could reach me But I think I can see in your face There's a lot you can teach me So I wanna know What's the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you? What's the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do? Tell me please, 'cause I have to know I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow And you make me talk And you make me feel And you make me show What I'm trying to conceal If I trust in you, would you let me down? Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you? Could you feel the same way too? I wanna know The name of the game

Honestly, I think this one speaks for itself. There's actually a lot more I want to say about this, but gotta chew on it a bit longer. This is from our POV, but honestly it goes both ways. Starscream, afraid of showing vulnerability. What if he's equally afraid that the depths of his care for you would be rejected? He's so used to others scheming against him, and sometimes, your blind faith in him is cause for suspicion. Surely, your only motivations can't be because you care about him.

Right?

Despite our trust in Starscream, he's known for his ability to manipulate, and you sometimes, guiltily, cannot help but wonder if you mean as much to him as he does to you.

You know it's a selfish thought, but it's sunk its claws into your processor and refused to let go.

Your biggest fear is confessing just how much he means to you, and for him to throw it back in your faceplate. Framing your loyalty to him as weakness.

He probably wouldn't do that.

Right?

Nothing to do with the fact that he'd warned you against forming attachments while aboard the Nemesis.

Knowing me, knowing you, aha There is nothing we can do ... Knowing me, knowing you, it's the best I can do

Getting attached is the number one fatal flaw aboard the Nemesis.

You'd made no attempt to hide your devotion to Starscream - to some extent, that had gone unquestioned amongst the Decepticons. It was a dog eat dog world, and a bot of lower rank like yourself was expected to defer to your superiors. The superficial assumptions of others had worked in your favour - however, this did not work the other way round.

Starscream had gone out of his way to keep you at arms' length, especially in front of other Decepticons. The only time he'd allow himself to drop the mask was in your shared habsuite.

For a while, it had weighed heavily on your processor. Why was he being so cold to you? Only to willingly soothe you back into recharge when the nightmares were too bad?

You eventually realized. On a day when Megatron had decided to put on another 'show' - dragging a bot out by his pede, ignoring the desperate pleas of his conjunx as they were held back by the others. The bot's conjunx was forced to watch as Megatron pummeled the life from his spark.

"This," Megatron had snarled, "this is your weakness! And I will not tolerate weakness within my ranks!"

The only mercy was that the dead bot's conjunx was next. Afterwards, you stare blankly at the two lifeless frames. Their only crime was to love each other, you think. Primus, did they deserve such a fate?

A warm servo suddenly envelops your own. Starscream. His optics are fixed on the two battered frames on the ground, and he's trembling.

His voice comes soberly through your private comm line.

:: Do you understand now? ::

------

The brainrot is real. Til we offline...

Thank you for your ask!!