#insulation tape roll

[silvershine302]

Your Guide to PVC Tape Rolls, Bijli Tape, and More: Everything You Need to Know

Choosing the right tape for electrical insulation and maintenance is crucial. Whether you need PVC tape rolls, Bijli tapes, or electric tape rolls, understanding their features and uses is key. Here’s a detailed breakdown of the essential tapes used in electrical applications.

1. PVC Tape Rolls: A Versatile Solution for Electrical Insulation

Made from PVC (Polyvinyl Chloride): Offers flexibility, durability, and resistance to moisture, chemicals, and abrasion.

Primary Use: Electrical insulation for wires, cables, and connections.

Features: High tensile strength, strong adhesion, and good dielectric properties.

Applications: Wrapping wires, sealing electrical connections, and general insulation purposes.

Advantages: Available in different colors, thicknesses, and lengths for versatility.

2. Bijli Tape: Ideal for High-Voltage Applications

Designed for High-Voltage: Specially made to withstand extreme electrical pressure and high voltage.

Superior Insulation: Provides high dielectric strength and resistance to temperature fluctuations.

Applications: Used for power transmission, generators, and high-voltage electrical systems.

Benefits: Prevents electrical accidents, offers long-lasting protection, and ensures safe insulation for critical systems.

3. Bijli Tapes: Various Brands for Electrical Insulation

General Term for Quality Insulation Tapes: Refers to tapes with similar properties used in high-voltage systems.

Benefits: Excellent adhesion, flexibility, and electrical resistance.

Applications: Insulating electrical wires, repairing cables, and securing electrical components.

Considerations: Choose bijli tapes that offer durability and strong insulation properties for reliable performance.

4. PVC Tape Manufacturers: Ensuring High-Quality Products

Role of Manufacturers: PVC tape manufacturers are responsible for producing high-quality, durable tapes.

Key Features: Use advanced technologies and high-quality materials to meet global safety and performance standards.

Considerations: Always choose tapes from trusted manufacturers to ensure consistent quality and reliability in your electrical applications.

5. Friction Insulation Tape: Protects Against Wear and Tear

Purpose: Specifically designed to protect against friction and mechanical stress.

Material: Made from durable materials to handle physical wear and tear.

Applications: Ideal for cables, machinery, automotive wiring, and motor windings.

Benefits: Provides extra protection to ensure cables and electrical components remain intact even in high-stress environments.

6. Insulation Tape Roll: A Must-Have for Every Electrician

Common Use: Insulating electrical wires, preventing short circuits, and protecting electrical connections.

Material Options: PVC, rubber, and cloth-based tapes, with PVC being the most popular for flexibility and durability.

Applications: Electrical maintenance, cable insulation, and sealing joints.

Advantages: Offers protection from moisture, chemicals, and environmental damage.

7. Electric Tape Rolls: Perfect for Electrical Insulation

Purpose: Designed to ensure the safety of electrical wiring and components.

Characteristics: High insulation properties, resistant to moisture, heat, and wear.

Applications: Securing wires, insulating connections, and marking hazardous areas in electrical installations.

Key Benefits: Easy to use, provides strong adhesion, and ensures long-lasting protection for electrical systems.

8. PVC Tape: A Trusted Option for Insulation Needs

Popular Choice: PVC tape is widely used for its reliable insulation capabilities.

Benefits: Offers strong adhesion, flexibility, and protection from electrical hazards.

Uses: Wrapping wires, sealing connections, and electrical repairs.

Features: Available in a range of sizes, colors, and adhesive strengths to meet various insulation needs.

Conclusion:

Versatility of Tapes: PVC tape rolls, Bijli tape, and electric tape rolls are all essential for electrical insulation.

Importance of Quality: Choose trusted PVC tape manufacturers and quality tapes to ensure safety and long-lasting performance.

Ideal Uses: Whether insulating cables, preventing electrical faults, or protecting equipment from wear and tear, these tapes serve crucial roles in both residential and industrial projects.

By understanding the different types of insulation tapes, such as PVC tape rolls, Bijli tapes, and friction insulation tape, you can make informed decisions for your electrical and industrial needs.

This content breaks down each keyword into easy-to-understand points, making it perfect for blog readers. The structure also helps with SEO, improving visibility for key terms.

[silvershinesblog]

Discover the Excellence of Silver Shine Adhesive: Your Premier PVC Tape Manufacturer in Delhi

In the bustling industrial hub of Delhi, the demand for high-quality adhesive products is ever-growing. Among the various players in this market. , Silver Shine Adhesive stands out as a beacon of excellence. Specializing in PVC tapes, Silver Shine Adhesive has carved a niche for itself as a trusted and reliable manufacturer. This blog delves into the world of Silver Shine Adhesive, highlighting why they are the go-to choice for PVC tape manufacturers in Delhi. PVC electrical tape manufacturers in Delhi, and PVC insulation tape manufacturers in Delhi.

Unraveling the Legacy of Silver Shine Adhesive

Silver Shine Adhesive was founded with a mission to provide superior adhesive solutions to various industries. Over the years, the company has grown exponentially, thanks to its commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction. Located in the heart of Delhi, Silver Shine Adhesive leverages state-of-the-art manufacturing facilities and a team of skilled professionals to produce top-notch PVC tapes.

Why Choose PVC Tapes?

PVC (Polyvinyl Chloride) tapes are renowned for their durability, flexibility, and excellent insulation properties. These tapes are widely used in electrical, automotive, and construction industries for insulation, bundling, and protection purposes. The key advantages of PVC tapes include:

High Dielectric Strength: Ensures safe insulation for electrical applications.

Flame Retardancy: Provides an added layer of safety by preventing the spread of flames.

Durability: Resistant to wear, abrasion, and harsh environmental conditions.

Versatility: Available in various colors and sizes to meet diverse requirements.

Silver Shine Adhesive: A Leader Among PVC Tape Manufacturers in Delhi

As a leading PVC tape manufacturer in Delhi, Silver Shine Adhesive is dedicated to maintaining the highest standards of quality. The company's production processes are meticulously monitored to ensure that each roll of tape meets stringent quality benchmarks. Here are some of the key features that set Silver Shine Adhesive apart from its competitors:

Advanced Manufacturing Facilities

Silver Shine Adhesive boasts cutting-edge manufacturing facilities equipped with the latest machinery and technology. The company continually invests in upgrading its equipment to keep pace with advancements in the industry. This commitment to innovation ensures that their PVC tapes are of the highest quality and reliability.

Stringent Quality Control

Quality is at the core of Silver Shine Adhesive's operations. The company follows a rigorous quality control process that includes multiple stages of testing and inspection. From raw material selection to the final product, every step is carefully monitored to ensure consistency and excellence.

Skilled Workforce

The backbone of Silver Shine Adhesive's success is its team of skilled and experienced professionals. The company's workforce is well-trained in the latest manufacturing techniques and quality control measures. Their expertise and dedication are reflected in the superior quality of the PVC tapes they produce.

Diverse Product Range

Silver Shine Adhesive offers a wide range of PVC tapes to cater to various applications. Their product portfolio includes:

PVC Electrical Tapes

As leading PVC electrical tape manufacturers in Delhi, Silver Shine Adhesive produces tapes that are specifically designed for electrical insulation. These tapes offer excellent adhesion, flexibility, and resistance to voltage fluctuations, making them ideal for electrical wiring and splicing.

PVC Insulation Tapes

For those seeking reliable insulation solutions, Silver Shine Adhesive stands out among PVC insulation tape manufacturers in Delhi. Their insulation tapes are designed to provide superior dielectric strength and flame retardancy, ensuring safety and efficiency in electrical applications.

General Purpose PVC Tapes

Silver Shine Adhesive also caters to the general adhesive needs of various industries with its range of general-purpose PVC tapes. These tapes are versatile and can be used for bundling, sealing, and protection purposes across different applications.

Commitment to Sustainability

In today's environmentally conscious world, sustainability is a key consideration for manufacturers. Silver Shine Adhesive is committed to minimizing its environmental impact by adopting eco-friendly practices in its manufacturing processes. The company uses non-toxic materials and follows stringent waste management protocols to ensure that its operations are sustainable and environmentally responsible.

Customer-Centric Approach

Silver Shine Adhesive's success is built on its unwavering commitment to customer satisfaction. The company believes in building long-term relationships with its clients by providing high-quality products and exceptional service. Their customer-centric approach includes:

Customized Solutions: Silver Shine Adhesive works closely with its clients to understand their specific requirements and provide tailored solutions.

Timely Delivery: The company ensures prompt delivery of products to meet the urgent needs of its customers.

After-Sales Support: Silver Shine Adhesive offers comprehensive after-sales support to address any queries or concerns that customers may have.

Testimonials and Industry Recognition

The excellence of Silver Shine Adhesive's products and services is reflected in the glowing testimonials from their satisfied clients. Many industry leaders have lauded the company for its high-quality PVC tapes and exceptional customer service. Additionally, Silver Shine Adhesive has received numerous accolades and certifications, further cementing its reputation as a top PVC tape manufacturer in Delhi.

Conclusion

In the competitive landscape of adhesive products, Silver Shine Adhesive stands tall as a premier manufacturer of PVC tapes in Delhi. Their unwavering commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction has earned them a stellar reputation in the industry. Whether you need PVC electrical tapes, insulation tapes, or general-purpose tapes, Silver Shine Adhesive has the expertise and resources to meet your needs.

For more information about Silver Shine Adhesive and their range of products, visit their website or contact their customer service team. Experience the excellence of Silver Shine Adhesive, and discover why they are the preferred choice for PVC tape manufacturers in Delhi.

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By choosing Silver Shine Adhesive, you are not just investing in high-quality PVC tapes; you are partnering with a company that values excellence, reliability, and sustainability. Join the ranks of their satisfied customers and elevate your adhesive solutions with Silver Shine Adhesive.

[silver-shine123]

Protect Your Electrical Wires with PVC Electrical Insulation Tape

In addition to offering superior mechanical protection, PVC Electrical Insulation Tape has a high dielectric strength. They are suitable for automotive applications in terms of conformability. It is made of polyvinyl chloride sheet using authorised production techniques to guarantee excellent quality and strength, which is then evaluated using a range of quality indicators. PVC is a substance that we frequently utilise in our goods and it offers a number of benefits for electrical and mechanical insulation.

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (01) all i had

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

the wind was howling.

your bag felt heavy on your shoulders as you brisked through the night, flickering street lights as your only source of light. your phone died a while back, but it's fine since you knew every nook and cranny of the route from your workplace back to your aunt's apartment. 

you've had a pretty shitty day so far: customers yelling in your face about things out of your control, your bicycle getting stolen (again) rendering you having to travel back on foot, and on top of that, you have exams coming up this week.

all you could let out was a tired sigh while trying to revise the material under your breath.

just as you're about to turn the knob of the apartment door, looking forward to finally getting some sleep before having to drag yourself to school that starts in a few hours, the door swings open violently and you stumble back, startled. the sight of your aunt gripping the door while holding a broken bottle greets you as she stands there with an unsettling and wild look in her eyes, her tone final.

“get in the car, now.”

sitting in gotham’s police department with the background noise feels distant, everything is incoherent, too much noise, too much light, just too much.

you feel hollow.

can’t wrap your head around the series of events that had just occurred, alternating between gnawing your lips and picking your fingers, the chatter zoned in and out as you just sat there, not knowing what was to come.

you don’t know how long you've sat there while the police were making phone calls and running through their data records of you after taking multiple different samples 2 days ago in order to decide where they should toss you to next. you’ve been placed under watch just so they could make sure there were no complications from the injuries you sustained, practically living in the station. it wasn’t that bad, the GCPD was well-insulated, safe, and you’re given food to eat for free (not that you can taste anything). it’s much better than being left to fend for yourself in the streets.

you know you should be planning on what to do next, but your brain feels like tv static, nothing making sense. you had worked so hard despite the circumstances you were in, tried to make the best out of the shitty cards dealt. you weren’t happy, but you were in control, you had a plan. work hard, save up, get a degree and move the fuck out of this godforsaken city. start over.

staring at the ground, a pair of shoes enters your vision.

“your labs came back, we got your DNA results.”

this was not what you had in mind.

you’ve never been in a car this luxurious before. the man who introduced himself as alfred, the wayne’s family butler, your father's butler, was seated in the front driving to your supposed new home. you stare outside, gaze unfocused, arms cradling your backpack close to your chest - your entire life in it: your school supplies and a few other personal items, while the rest remains at your aunt’s apartment - that is currently taped off by police and under investigation. eyes trained on the passing view outside, you feel bad for alfred who’s tried to strike up conversation to get to know you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to elaborate on your short responses. you hope he doesn’t take it too personally.

before you knew it, the car rolled to a stop outside the wayne manor. grabbing your bag, you trail behind the butler, the feeling of dread suddenly consumes your entire being.

“i do apologize for the absence of master bruce, young miss. i’m certain if he weren’t caught up with this current case, you would've received a personal welcome from your father himself", he gave you an apologetic smile.

you nodded in response, not really processing his words despite the tiny feeling of disappointment felt as you step foot into the grand yet empty manor. your presence a stark contrast to the fancy room you've entered.

however, you do look forward to seeing your new family: your father and siblings that alfred mentioned in brief, insisting for you to get to know them yourself while singing them high praises.

maybe this was the start over you needed. maybe you'll finally know what it's like to be loved.

you should've known then.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you're tired, so very tired.

you're done.

nothing feels worth it anymore.

you don't have it in you to continue.

feet dangling off the crumbling abandoned building, you feel oddly at peace. everything is quiet. everything feels right, no responsibilities, no burdens, no more. you've decided.

for once in your life, you feel assured, this is the most optimal solution.

for once in your life, you're looking forward to something.

death must be so peaceful, lay buried within the earth, surrounded by silence. no yesterday, no today, no tomorrow. forget time, forgive life.

you'd be no more.

the wind is howling.

you stand up, staring down the steep drop. standing tall, unafraid, certain.

everything was quiet.

you're ready.

you shuffle closer to the edge, one foot hovering off as you will your other foot to do the same, fighting against your body's survival instinct. you're finally doing something for yourself.

"that's a big drop."

you stumble forward in surprise, nearly falling off until a hand grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you back further from the edge. you're stunned speechless, turning to see the source of the whistling voice.

"that's pretty ballsy of you, kid, i gotta admit."

this is embarrassing.

still unable to form any response, you let out a strangled noise in return as he let go of your shirt.

why the hell is one of gotham’s vigilante here.

an uncomfortable silence ensues, you don't know what to say, occasionally glancing up at the masked vigilante while you shifted your weight from one foot to another, feeling awkward.

just as you're about to try and weasel your way out of the situation, he beats you to it.

"nice spot! how'd you even get in?"

he asks casually while stretching and looking around. you don't know what to say.

"it's a still a weekday tomorrow , don't you have school? your parents must be worried you're out here."

your aunt is still waiting for you to return with your half of the pay for the rent. you have an assignment due tomorrow that's worth 10% of your final grade. there's nothing to look forward to.

"...i guess?"

now, you're uncertain, not knowing whether he genuinely didn't understand the implications of your actions or trying to lighten the severity of the situation.

he's uncertain.

he doesn't know how to approach this. he's never had to deal with this before.

you can tell by the strained smile and tensed posture that he also doesn't know what to do. somehow, you appreciate it. the situation is somewhat amusing now that you think about it. one of gotham's most dedicated vigilante standing in an abandoned building trying his best to stop a nobody from ending their insignificant life.

you almost let out a chuckle.

the vigilante bends down to pick up your discarded bag that was tossed to the side, handing it to you. you mumble your thanks, grabbing it and swinging it over your shoulders.

hesitantly, he places his hand on your much smaller frame. his voice warm and soft.

"go home. i'm sure someone is waiting for you."

you've waited for a year.

surrounded by the four walls of your assigned bedroom in the more cold, desolated part in the manor. you didn’t really mind, this arrangement was a blessing in disguise as it turned out, or maybe this arrangement was what turned you into the person you’ve become.

you don’t think you’re a great person, but you weren’t bad either, so you don’t understand why no one in the wayne manor would give you their time of day. sure, you were never reduced to begging for life necessities and having to bust your ass off at some sketchy restaurant working under legal age, while also balancing school work - this was objectively a far better environment for a person to live in compared to when you lived with your aunt. 

but was it wrong to want to be noticed by your own family? against your better judgement, you dared to hope.

you hoped to feel the warmth and care of what being tied by blood could grant. you hoped for an embrace, you hoped for company, you hoped for compassion, you hoped for connection. you hope and hope and hope, all you did was hope, until your memory was mostly filled with what you hoped, until you finally understood you were with them yet you were alone.

you had no place in their life.

just like the day you first arrived, bruce wayne, your father, was always busy. a persona to upkeep in the public eye, an enterprise to maintain, and his children to look after, to be a worthy role model.

but not you, never you.

despite alfred’s effort in trying to arrange for you two to get to know each other in the first week, there was never time. you were trying to wrap your head around the drastic changes that happened, from the procedures of transferring  schools, collecting what little belongings you had from the police station after the investigation, and quitting your job. meanwhile, bruce was still busy chasing leads to his case, determined that he was close to solving whatever it was. it took another week for you to stand in front of bruce’s door, wanting to formally introduce yourself and express your gratitude for taking you in, even if he was legally obligated to. when you finally saw him, you dared to hope. standing in front of you was your father, someone who shared your features. you see him, you see yourself. 

you could never forget the look in his eyes.

it was clear he had no idea who your mother was, but it was fine, you didn’t know her either. your desire to get to know him was not returned. was this what having a father is meant to be like? he couldn’t care less about you. all he did was run you through the ground rules of the house, who to go to if you were to request something, to inform him if you needed anything.

you needed him to look at you.

tim drake was the next person you encountered, your slightly older brother. you hoped that with the proximity in age, it would be easier to connect to him. however, it always seemed like he was preoccupied with something more important, he could not even be bothered to pretend to show interest when you had introduced yourself. you felt small, both in the figurative and literal sense. he was undoubtedly intelligent and talented. you’ve seen the way bruce look at him, actually hold a conversation with him. he was deserving, nothing you could measure to. bruce actually looked at him.

why does nobody look at you?

then you ran into jason todd. to your knowledge, he does not primarily reside within the manor anymore, which would explain why you haven’t really seen him around at all. it doesn’t explain why your first encounter with him was assuming a burglar had snuck in through the window at 3 in the morning. you had nearly dropped your cup of coffee, hearing a brief commentary on how there was another caffeine addict in the house before leaving the kitchen with you still holding your breath in shock. you can’t form a solid opinion on him since you barely see him.

in stark contrast, you had met richard grayson, or dick. the ever sweetest and most amazing older brother that any younger sibling would dream to have. you do too, seeing how much of a brother he was to the other members of the house, but not to you.

never to you.

you’d like to blame him for blindly hoping for things to be different, with his empty promises when he accidentally runs into you while on his search for someone else, and small talk when he’s waiting for something. you catch your father’s appreciative glances towards him sometimes, when dick helps out with managing your siblings.

especially damian al ghul, your half-brother. you were excited to have a younger blood sibling, not that the others were any less important to you, but merely for the delusion that blood could bring you together.

blood meant nothing.

damian was introduced after you were brought in, and his last name was promptly changed into wayne. your encounter was different from the others, him being the only one that sought you out first. again, you had hoped. trying to hide your excitement, you had mistakenly thought he was different from the others, your flesh and blood. 

it’s all the same.

damian had berated your existence, bringing up how you were so unworthy of being a wayne you had yet to receive your father’s last name. you stood there listening to everything he had to say. your flesh and blood.

you admired his strong personality and ability to assert what he wanted. you were complete opposites. it’s no surprise that that’s why he was worthy of the last name.he ended up being the one who had interacted with you the most, even if it was mostly him bullying you. secretly, you held him dear, seeing resemblance between damian and your aunt. he was your flesh and blood.

cassandra cain was yet another sibling you falsely assumed having something in common would bring you two closer. but at this point, you no longer had it in you to put effort in forming a connection with anyone else, worn down by the countless times you’ve been casted aside. 

you remain in the shadows, watching them carry on their daily lives, watched the life you had desperately wanted to be part of but found it impossible. you don’t belong with them, you don’t belong anywhere.

their silence made you feel forgettable.

do you even exist if no one remembers you?

the wind is howling.

and so are the voices.

i don't think im a good story teller since i mostly wrote analytical essays ^^' hopefully it makes sense like who let them (me) cook?? likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

(TAGLIST) lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist :heh:

@confused-they @hoeinthehouse @heartjwonie @strwberryglass

[mrspeechless]

She could have sworn she heard it again. The familiar sound of footsteps trampling carpets of autumn leaves just outside of her window. How many seasons had gone by with that distinct crunch blocked out, barred from existence, as disregardable white noise? But to the world outside of the damnably insulated walls of her home it was her existence that struggled to be noticed.

The muscles of her neck, despite their dull constant ache, heaved up her head in a struggle that made the task look herculean. Her left cheek, swollen above her gag, was a tad damp from the wet splotch on the rug she'd been sobbing into. Her back arched slightly into the tension of her cruelly diligent hogtie, allowing her lungs to siphon air in deeper measure through a pair of flared nostrils. If someone, anyone, was walking by she needed them to hear her.

For a half-step her eyes, stung red by tears, blinked closed as the collection of air in her chest wound itself in a dense bubble. Her eyes flew open once more as all that precious oxygen was blasted like cannonfire out of her chest, a grapeshot of noise filtered through exhausted and strained vocal chords. From her perspective that scream was like dragon's breath, a shrill and horrible cry that under any other circumstance could have laid waste to a small village of innocents. But this dragon was muzzled, and the barrier of her gag once again kept her fiery shouts for salvation tucked in the bowels of her throat, penetrating the seemingly indomitable walls of her gag in meek, stifled bleats more befitting of a lost lamb.

Indeed this gag was her mortal enemy. The very same pair of cozy socks she always wore to fend off the chills of upcoming winter months had been unceremoniously seized from her feet, bundled together, and rammed deep into her mouth. The unwanted intrusion was like a dense boulder that only grew heavier over the hours of uncontrollably salivating against the sordid laundry. She yearned with every tear that rolled down the surface of her gag for the relief of being able to rest the expended and weary muscles of her jaw.

The gag's true malevolence, however, was made manifest in the bands of microfoam that clutched round her head like a python squeezing the life from its latest catch. Her captor seemed intent to fuse it to her flesh in the way that the gagging tape felt glued like a second skin over her swollen cheeks and uncontrollably spread lips. The sensation of it all, thick articles invading and plugging the entirety of her mouth and cruel clutches of sealed bandaging smothering an entire half of her face, working in vicious orchestration to deny her a right once believed to be inalienable. In doing so her monstrous gag maintains her victimhood as those footsteps continue to crush fallen leaves along the path away from her home. What followed could be unceremoniously classified as a tantrum if the consequences were not so dire. Her body writhed in desperate spasms against stalwart ropework. Her limbs ached and her joints chafed, but the barely audible squeals that filtered through the shield of tape came not because of pain. Frustration, fear, anger, all loaded into the barrel of her heart and discharged fiercely into the small bubble of space she could wriggle around in. Shivers that attempted to manifest at the memory of how his hands touched her body, and uncomfortable clamminess of his hot breath whispering his degenerate intentions in her ear, were repurposed into raging and desperate tugs at the hogtie that bent her figure so wickedly. Exhaustion would take her with nothing of substance to show for it. Just like before the muscles in her neck give in. Her head lays flat on its side, the flesh of her cheek acquainting itself to the familiar damp spot on the rug. She clutches her eyes shut tightly, but cannot stop them from contributing to that dampness with yet another pitifully defeated sob.

[melpomenelamusa]

The escape plan - Chimeras

~Original story~

Previous

CW: Pet whump, lady whumper, lady whump, multiple whumpees, mention cautivery, blood and injuries, drowning.

Fidi had come up with an escape plan. After several sleepless nights, creating various hypothetical scenarios and taking note of a variety of outcomes, she believed she had found the path that would lead her and Tigri to freedom.

The first step was to get rid of the collars. These had a tracker that meant that, as long as they were wearing them, Madame Lavenza would always have access to their exact location from her cell phone. But taking off the collar and throwing it away was easy. The tricky part was dealing with the electric chip.

As they had already experienced firsthand more than once, if the woman activated the electric chip before they could take off the collars, they would be finished. Being caught in the middle of an escape attempt was a severe punishment guaranteed. Fidi didn't want to imagine what Madame Lavenza would do to them in that case.

The chip was located on the inside of the collar, attached to the skin on the back of their necks, that was what made the electric shock have an immediate effect when activated through the remote control in the woman's possession. Fidi thought the best way to avoid being affected by the current was to cover the chip with something that would prevent the electricity from spreading to their bodies.

“Rubber is an insulator,” Tigri said. “We could find some rubber and put it on our necks before putting on the collar, to create something like a barrier between our skin and the chip. The thicker it is, the better the insulator will be.”

“Do you think we could use those rubber gloves that the cleaning staff uses to wash the bathrooms?” Fidi asked.

“They might work.”

“We could cut off the fingers, put them together, and create a sort of internal necklace, so that it would protect us. I can try to do something like that.”

During the time they could spend alone together, away from Madame Lavenza’s displays and requests, Fidi and Tigri dedicated themselves to collecting the materials they needed for their plan. Tigri managed to steal some gloves from the cleaning store, while Fidi distracted the staff by spilling juice on the fur rug in the lobby (it earned her a punishment, but it was worth it). Getting adhesive tape was much easier, Fidi only had to approach one of the servants and tell him that one of her sketchbooks had been torn. Without asking too many questions she was given a roll.

Using some thread and the tape, Fidi made two collars by joining together the cut fingers of several rubber gloves. The idea was to glue a piece of rubber over the chip on Madame Lavenza's collar and then place it over the rubber collar around their necks.

Wearing the rubber collar made the metal collar feel much more uncomfortable, constricting their throats; but they were confident that this homemade method would keep them safe from the cruel electric shocks, at least long enough for them to be able to find an opportunity to escape. They had no way of testing the effectiveness of their experiment other than by angering Madame Lavenza and earning themselves a punishment. If their method didn't work, then they would suffer for good; But if this one worked and Madame Lavenza realized something fishy was going on, she would check the collars and then they would be finished.

"We'll have to trust that it´ll work," Fidi said, trying to sound confident. "Hide the rubber collar in your room, in a very hidden place that the cleaning staff can't find."

The second part of the plan was to get out of the mansion. Right off the bat, that was almost impossible. There were guards watching the main gate 24/7, and during the night all the entrances and exits to the property were locked. They also knew that there were cameras on the perimeter, around the wall surrounding the big house. On their own, they would never be able to get out without being caught.

“That's why we'll escape when we're out of the mansion,” the girl said.

In the past, it was fear that had prevented her from trying to escape every time Madame Lavenza took her out of her cage in the mansion; but now it could be her only chance to achieve the long-awaited freedom.

“Wouldn't that be very dangerous?” Tigri asked, putting a hand to his chin, weighing the possibility.

“It's the best option I can think of,” Fidi answered, determinedly. “We'll have to escape during the course of the car ride. Trying to escape as soon as we leave the mansion will be a total failure, and trying to escape when we reach our destination will be the same thing.”

Fidi didn't find the idea of ​​jumping out of a moving car to be a tempting experience either; but if it was necessary to finally find her freedom, she would do it.

"What will we do after we jump out of the car?" Tigri asked. "If we're lucky and we don't get hit by a car coming in the other lane."

"Run," the girl replied. "Run as far as possible. Once we're sure no one is following us, we can look for your family."

Tigri's ears drooped down. Mentioning his family always made him melancholic and nostalgic.

"Okay. So that's the plan."

Madame Lavenza never announced her activities in advance, so every time she planned to do something with her "pets," whether it was a photo shoot, playing with dolls, going to a party or an exhibition, etc., she always took them by surprise. That day at breakfast, Madame Lavenza told them that they were going to a party organized by one of her friends, in a building on the mountain. Fidi and Tigri exchanged glances, knowing what that meant: the day to escape would be today.

After dressing in the elegant outfits that Madame Lavenza had assigned them, they put on the rubber collar and on top of it the collar with the chip. Fidi felt her hands sweating, not only from the gloves, but from anxiety. If the rubber collar didn't work...

She felt a friendly hand on her shoulder and saw Tigri smile at her. The boy's tail swished nervously behind him, but he tried to give his friend a confident smile.

They got into the car. Madame Lavenza, as always, sat in the middle of the back seat, Fidi on her right and Tigri on the left. The driver and a servant who accompanied them as a chamberlain were the rest of the people in the vehicle.

Fidi felt her heart pounding so hard against her chest that she feared Madame Lavenza would hear her. The car moved quickly through the city streets. The traffic was light, but cars came and went on either side of them. After almost an hour of travel, they reached the highway. The speed increased. The buildings gradually disappeared, replaced by views of fields, forests and mountains. There were no more cars around them; they moved alone along the wide asphalt road.

It was now or never.

Fidi turned to look at Madame Lavenza. The woman was leaning back in the seat, with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. Then she turned her gaze to Tigri. He was gripping the fabric of his pants, his claws out. A shaky exhale escaped the snake girl's lips and the tiger boy turned to look at her. Fidi nodded discreetly. He reached out and slowly unlocked the door. Her whole body was shaking with anticipation. She took a deep, deep breath, as if she was filling her lungs with oxygen for the last time.

"Now!" she shouted. She opened the door and let herself fall.

The pain was immediate. She hit the pavement with her right shoulder. She bounced and rolled like a ball of yarn a few times until she stopped. Fidi's mouth was open in a silent scream, as she felt the pain spread all over her side. The skin on her arms and legs burned. A harsh smell reached her nose and she felt the shreds of torn tights stick to the bleeding scraps on her legs, burned by the friction of the asphalt. She felt like it took her forever to catch her breath.

“Fidi!”

She suddenly saw Tigri at her side, helping her up. She hissed in pain, feeling as if her skin was tearing. She was dizzy and for a moment she thought she would throw up her lunch from a few hours ago. Tigri, on the other hand, had one of the lenses of his glasses broken, was limping on his left leg and was bleeding from a wound on his forehead.

“We have to go now,” the boy urged, helping her walk.

They hadn’t gone more than a couple of meters when they both stopped, feeling a slight tickling and a sensation of heat on their necks. The rubber collar had worked! But that meant that Madame Lavenza was upset. Very upset. They took off both collars and threw them away, before continuing to run, driven by pure adrenaline. They had no direction, so they just followed the street. They had to go far, as far as they could.

They came to a bridge. Several meters below them ran a river, which meandered into unknown and wild territory, getting lost in the forest. The empty road continued ahead, inviting them to continue. Suddenly they heard the screeching sound of tires against the asphalt and in the distance a black car appeared, approaching.

"I-it's her!" Fidi shouted, feeling panic turn her stomach. She and Tigri quickened their pace, running as fast as their injured bodies allowed them. When they reached the other side of the bridge they could try to go into the forest and thus lose their pursuers...

The car sped past them, thundering and ruffling their hair, then stopped in front of them and blocked the way. Two men with stern faces got out. From the back seat came Madame Lavenza. Her face was red with anger and her lips twisted in a grimace of betrayal.

“You damn animals,” she muttered, starting to walk towards them.

Fidi and Tigri started to run in the opposite direction. They immediately heard hurried footsteps behind them, catching up.

They weren’t going to make it.

“We have to jump into the river!” Fidi said.

The chimera children turned right, heading for the edge of the bridge. The river looked deep and its grey waters flowed fast and violently. Fidi was so scared that tears threatened to blur her vision. It was either the river or being captured again.

They climbed the railing, no more than a meter high. The breeze ruffled their hair and the roar of the waters reached their ears. Fidi looked at the sky and it seemed like an infinite, celestial canvas. The men who were chasing them stretched out their arms to grab them...

Fidi jumped. For an instant, gravity ceased to exist. She was alone, in the middle of a vast world, a terrifying and dangerous world, but one that could also be beautiful and liberating.

She had done it.

“FIDI!”

Tigri's scream made her turn her head just in time to see her friend's terrified face, as the men dragged him away from the railing, back to the road. Fidi couldn't answer his call, because at that moment she hit the surface of the water.

The liquid ran furiously up her nose, and the girl had to gather her willpower not to open her mouth and drown. She kicked, not knowing which way was the surface and which way were the black, abyssal depths. The current dragged her forward. Fidi waved her arms, ignoring the pain of moving her right arm, until she managed to get her head out and breathe the air from the surface. She tried to brush away the strands of her bangs that fell over her eyes and managed to make out the highway bridge in the distance, many meters behind. On either side there were only trees.

Tired, she fought against the current to stay afloat, while trying to swim to the shore. After several attempts, she finally reached an area of ​​the river where the flow was calmer and managed to stop on the shore, like a shipwrecked boat. She crawled across the sandy ground and let herself fall, spitting water. She felt cold. Her breathing was labored because of her sobs, while the tears mixed with the drops that already ran down her soaked body.

She had survived, she had managed to escape.

But Tigri had not.

And now her friend was condemned to live a hell a thousand times worse. 

Fidi cried, unable to do anything but lie weak on the ground, afflicted by the throbbing of her dislocated shoulder and the friction burns on her legs and arms. She cried until unconsciousness took pity on her and plunged her into a deep sleep, momentarily freeing her from the pain and the guilt.

Next

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection @writinglittlepains

Thanks for reading!!! ⭐

[motimatcha]

Characters: Gekko, Phoenix, Yoru, Chamber

Gener: fluff

On a cold winter night, when the temperature outside drops to minus thirty-five degrees and a cold wind blows through the windows...

Gekko will offer to seal the cracks with tape. This hardly saves you, despite the fact that you used two rolls of tape.

Phoenix will turn on the heater to warm up the entire apartment, but this action, like trying to warm up the entire street, will have no effect.

Yoru, who is equally comfortable in the heat and in the cold to wear light clothes, will not offer anything better and more reasonable than to call the repair service and go to his home.

Chamber has never encountered this problem because he is rich and can afford to install insulation on his windows.

[gaybananabread]

Hi I love your fics! I was wondering if you could write a lee bakugo and ler best jeanist? If your requests are closed you can just ignore this, I thought it could be cute though!

Have a great day! Remember to take care of yourself!

TickleTober Day 2 - Accidental

Okay, kinda lucked out! I was gonna wait till November to do this request, but I liked the pairing and needed an idea. You didn't request it as TickleTober, but that's what it is now. Changes nothing, just gives me an excuse to write it as such lol. Ignore any sewing-term errors, I don't sew anything. Anywho, I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Bakugou

Ler: Best Jeanist

Summary: Jeanist thought that Bakugou's suit needed some special touches. The blonde obviously protests, leading to some rather giggly measurements.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Bakugou's hero suit was…well, it wasn't bad. It just lacked a certain flair the pro hero was looking for. So, with him mentoring the teen and all, Jeanist thought it his responsibility to spruce up the slightly drab suit.

The rapidly approaching fall season was a decent inspiration for him. With fall comes the changing of leaves, carving of pumpkins and cooler weather. Jeanist made sure to insulate the suit, knowing the blonde needed to sweat for his quirk to work. He kept the theme mainly orange, yellow and black, adding in a few splashes of green for style. 

By the end of his lunch break, he had drawn up a new seasonal suit for Bakugou. It was time for the hard part: getting his measurements without the boy exploding.

“I don’t need a new suit! Nothin’s fucking wrong with it!” Bakugou was not putting up with another change. His poor hair had been the first change. That damn comb over…he’ll never get over it. Now he wanted to switch up his suit design? Fuck that.

The pro hero sighed, expecting this reaction. “No need to be so dramatic. It’s just a little…seasonal makeover. Trust me, you’ll be much happier.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his head. Yeah right, he had said the same thing about the hairstyle…

Bakugou's choice of words wasn't his best idea. He was getting a bit pissy, letting his temper get the best of him. "Fuck off. My suit is fine, no more makeovers!" He glared at the pro, but that temper faded when he saw the look on his face. The look that meant Jeanist was done with his shit.

"Quite the mouth on you. I believe I said something about censoring your f-bombs, did I not?" Threads flew towards the teen, wrapping around his limbs and getting him positioned. When Jeanist was done, Bakugou was standing tall, his arms and legs spread just enough to get perfect measurements. "I would say 'stand still', but I don't think that'll be an issue now."

A bit dramatic, but he needed it. Bakugou thrashed and tugged on the thread, but everytime one broke, three more were quick to replace it. Jeanist was careful not to hurt the boy, just restrain him. "The fuck?! Get these damn threads offa me!" 

The pro rolled his eyes, grabbing his measuring tape and approaching him. "What did I just say?" Jeanist first ran the tape around his chest, getting the bust measurements. He wasn't expecting the other blonde's gasp when his fingers grazed his ribs. "Bakugou…are you hurt?"

Shit… "No, go away! Get these damn threads away from me!" He tried thrashing his way out, but nothing was working. Jeanist was too good at keeping him in place.

"Bakugou, if you're hiding an injury, you're only hurting yourself more. I only think less of you for getting injured if you don't tell me about it." His tone was serious. The pro didn't mess around when it came to his others' well-being. Giving Bakugou a stern look-over, he could tell the explosive teen wasn't lying. But if he wasn't injured, why'd he gasp? Jeanist knew he wasn't getting a straight answer; best to run a test…

Ignoring his protests, Jeanist got back to measuring. He did the bust measurements one more time, his fingers grazing Bakugou's ribs again. The teen was prepared, though, biting his cheek to keep quiet.

Okay, no noise that time…moving onto the waist. He moved the tape down, fiddling with the ends of it to find the exact measurement. He pressed his fingers against the boy's lower stomach, taking mental notes of the numbers. 

Bakugou's breathing was a bit shaky, his cheek starting to hurt from biting it so hard. Why couldn't Jeanist measure somewhere that wasn't ticklish? Literally any other place would have been fine. He just had to start with his ribs. Things only went downhill from there…

Now for hip girth. The tape was moved once again, running around his hips. Bakugou struggled not to react when he felt his mentor's fingers brush his hips. He could feel his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment and stupidity of his situation getting to him. 

Jeanist heard how shaky his breathing was getting, glancing up at the teen's face. What he saw shocked him. A blushing Bakugou, struggling not to smile. Why would he…wait a minute. He got a wonderful idea. And oho, it was perfect. 

The measuring tape was pulled away, Best Jeanist's fingers leaving his torso. Bakugou huffed, sparing a glance at his mentor. He instantly regretted it. The pro hero's smile was as wide as it was mischievous. The measurements were done for now, he could've released him; but he didn't. He knew. Bakugou was fucked. 

"Jeanist I- don't you FUCKING dare! I'll blow you into the stratosphere! Back off!" The blond pulled at his thread restraints, but Jeanist was too good with his quirk. He could barely wiggle around, much less escape.

The pro hero chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow, again with the language. What's it gonna take for you to clean up your act, Bakugou?" He tucked his arms behind his back, slowly getting closer to the teen. He knew exactly what it would take. He just wanted to have a bit of fun with his temperamental mentee. 

"Maybe…something like this?" He went behind the teen, squeezing his side. Bakugou huffed, jerking as much as the threads would allow. How were things as simple as threads keeping him restrained so well? 

"Lemme go! I swear, if you touch me one more time, I'll fucking blast you-" He couldn't even finish his sentence before Jeanist squeezed his side again, cutting his words off with a yelp. "There's that word again. You've really got to stop using it. Children aren't going to want to be near a hero who uses such scary language." 

To be completely honest, Jeanist didn't really care how the boy spoke. It wasn't up to him, he wasn't going to dictate how he communicated. Still, the cursing gave him an excuse to tickle the other blonde. An excuse he wasn't about to let go of.

Deciding to just go for it, Jeanist scribbled across the teen's stomach. He was pleasantly surprised to hear Baku's poorly-restrained giggles. He wasn't putting up much of an effort to conceal them anymore. "Shihit- nohoho! Get ohohoff!" 

It was nice to hear the aggressive, loud teen giggle like that. After all, he was still a kid. A teenager, yes, but still a kid. The boy deserves to laugh. And, by the looks of it, he doesn't really mind. 

"You'd think that you would stop cussing, but no. Honestly, do you ever learn your lesson?" The wiggling fingers move upwards, heading for his ribs. Bakugou's giggling got louder, still lighter and bubbly. At least he was on the right track.

Jeanist slowly moved up Bakugou's ribs, scribbling between each bone. The teen squirmed and thrashed as much as he could, his pink cheeks deepening to a vibrant red. The giggling was now borderline laughter. Just needed that one extra notch to get there.

"Goho awahahay, ohohold mahahahan!" The pro scoffed, pausing his tickling for a second. That kid was in for it now… "Old man?! I'm 35, thank you very much! That's a perfectly normal age for a hero. I think you need a lesson in manners…" 

The pro's hand suddenly darted upwards, scribbling mercilessly on the spot where his underarms meet the top of his ribs. Bakugou all but screamed, loud cackles replacing his giggling. "NOHOHO! GEHEHET- NOHOT THEHEHERE!" 

Jeanist just chuckled as he continued his ticklish fun. He was enjoying himself, seeing his mentee laugh like that. The boy never let loose besides fighting, it was a nice sight. "There we go, improvement. No insults, and not one swear word!" He didn't really have a definite reason for tickling Bakugou, besides the fact that it was fun. Excuses would help, though.

Laughter echoed around Jeanist's office, bouncing off the walls and lively the place up. The denim-clad pro experimentally squeezed Bakugou's hip, smirking at the squawk he got in return. His fingers moved away from the teen's death spot, fully moving his hands down to focus on his hips. 

"OHOHO MY- IHIHI'LL KIHILL YOUHUHU!" Bakugou was trying to continue his sort-of squirming, but he was tiring out. The tickles, paired with that morning's training and patrol, had him beat. He managed to keep his head held up, laughing as the pro went at his hips. 

His thumbs drilled into the boisterous teen's hips, smirking as he pulled laugh after laugh out of him. The kid definitely had a nice one; much better than his normal demented cackling. His eyes wandered down to Bakugou's legs, questioning if they'd be half as his upper body. Lucky for him, he forgot a measurement. 

"Oh, my bad! I forgot to measure your inseam! We'll need to take care of that, now won't we?" Jeanist pulled the measuring tape from his pocket once again, holding it against Bakugou's thigh. Only this time, he actually poked around the area, purposefully tickling him while getting the measurement.

Thigh tickles are a completely different experience from anywhere else on the body (imo). As such, Bakugou's laugh was a brand-new shade of adorable. The fiery teen giggled and squeaked, pitchy laughter replacing his cackles.

"CohOHOme ohohon! Youhuhu AHA- uhum,  j-jeheherk!” To his mentor’s surprise, Bakugou actually filtered his language. True, he had begun to call him an ass, but he took the effort to stop himself. It was kinda cute, even if he didn’t truly care about the other blonde’s language.

Jeanist chuckled, easing up on his student’s hips. “Would you look at that, he can learn. All it took was some tickling!” Said student groaned, his cheeks reddening as Jeanist said the word. Normally, he can hear and say the word just fine. That time, however, he was being teased and restrained by someone he looked up to. It’s waaay harder to stay composed when you’re giggling like an idiot.

Finally, the tickling and teasing got to him. Bakugou actually tapped out. He didn’t exactly say “uncle” or anything, but he did say one word that hadn’t been spoken since Jeanist started. “S-STOHOHOP IHIT! JeHEHEAnihihist noho mohOHORE!” 

And stop it he did. The pro hero pulled his hands away as the threads holding Bakugou in place snapped. The teen fell forwards, a bit dazed from laughing so hard for so long. Jeanist caught the giggly student before he could hurt himself. “Woah, careful. I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Bakugou shook his head, hiding his red face in his mentor’s shoulder. “Sh-shuhuhut uhup…” That was the only response he needed to know that everything was fine. The older blonde wrapped his arms around him, keeping the boy upright and letting him know that there was no judgment. 

“Alright, I’ll stop. Still, you have to admit you enjoyed yourself just a little.” Bakugou groaned, weakly punching his mentor’s side. That just made him laugh and muss up the teen’s hair. “I’ll take that as another yes.” 

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Jeanist’s head as he remembered the whole reason the silliness started. “Oh, I almost forgot! Now that I’ve got your measurements, I can start on your new suit!” He walked over to a nearby couch, laying the teen down to rest. Bakugou wasn’t totally spent, but he could use a breather. He grumbled something, but didn’t protest any. He wanted a quick nap, and knew Jeanist wouldn’t tease him for it. 

The pro went over to his personal work-area, grabbing the fabrics for Bakugou’s new suit. Hopefully, by the time his student woke up, he would have a starting point on the garment.

Their playful exchange had given him some good ideas on where to add extra padding, as well as some pops of color. Bakugou might have been a bit temperamental, but he was a good kid. A good kid deserves a good suit. As he cut the first length of fabric, he thought of the happy smile that was on his mentee’s face as he tickled him. He would have to take measurements more often…

[roboticchibitan]

I once, a decade ago, made a custom dressform using water activated paper tape and spray insation foam following a tutorial I found online. The paper tape was only used as a mold for the spray foam. The finished dressform came out if the paper tape mold and was just a foam copy of my body. It wasn't the most durable foam, but the closest tutorials I can find now call for plaster bandages, and expanding two part foam that costs $160 to make something in my size. Whereas a couple rolls of paper tape and three or four bottles of spray insulation foam is about $40.

I cannot for the life of me find this tutorial or even a mention of it and no tutorials I've found reference spray insulation foam so I'm wondering if there's a reason this method didn't survive the test of time. I did find one person on Reddit filled their duct tape dressform with spray foam but I couldn't find any other mentions of it.

[speedydestinydream]

@everything-freakblr here's my freakblr secret santa for @sobeksewerrat !!! i did the drew and milly as siblings angst one cause i thought it could be good

EDIT: ao3 link here :3

i hope this is alright ! merry new years day 🎉🎉🎉

never the same (and never different)

“Come on, Drew. I'm not asking for much!” Milly said, standing in the doorframe to his room.

“Do it yourself,” Drew spat bitterly, rolling back into the blankets he's been curled up in for ages. 

Milly sighed in annoyance. "Is it really so difficult to just help for once?"

Drew didn't even take the effort to respond, simply facing away from Milly, waiting for her to leave. 

Their parents had called this morning from their trip to tell them to make some space in the attic today. Since they'd be coming home soon, they had a bunch of things they were bringing and no more room in the rest of their house to put it, and that left the attic as their best option. Suffering through another lecture over the phone didn't seem pleasant, so Milly reluctantly agreed.

Unfortunately for Milly, she had been blessed with the most stubborn brother ever.

She really thought that this time she could convince him to get up and help, but as all her feeble attempts were, it didn't work. Giving up completely, Milly rolled her eyes.

“...Drama queen...” Milly said quietly, taking the hint and exiting the room. 

---------------------------------------------------

It had now been a couple hours since their parents had called. Safe to say, Milly had been putting it off for more than awhile. She knew everything that "mysteriously disappeared" in their household for the past decade was most likely up in their attic, and wanted to put off cleaning that nightmare for as long as physically possible.

But it was now late in the afternoon, and the responsibility nagged at her in the back of her head even if she tried to ignore it.

So, yanking herself out of her bed and grabbing a flashlight, she mentally prepared herself as she walked to reach their attic. 

The hatch was at the end of one of their longer hallways, positioned so that pulling down the ladder wouldn't cut off access to any doors near it. Pulling down the hatch, Milly climbed up the wooden ladder and up into their attic.

...

"God... damnit—" Milly grumbled, struggling to even navigate with the amount of useless junk surrounding the attic.

She nearly coughed a lung out just by entering, having to wave endless dust out of her sight of vision.

It was just as she had expected.

Dozens—hell, maybe even hundreds—of cardboard boxes were stacked up upon each other, crammed in every corner, every space, even covering up the one small window they had in the attic. The insulation was ripped out, some of the floorboards were ripped out, and it seemed like the thin wooden support beams were probably only held up by dreams. It was dark in the attic, there was only a single light near in the corner. Milly immediately turned on her flashlight, it blinking a few times before shining a solid beam of light.

The rest of their household was perfectly polished and neat down to the finest details, but it seems their parents had put off taking care of the attic for a long time. She couldn't blame them for that, she didn't want to deal with this either. So for the longest time, it went out of sight, out of mind.

But it couldn't stay like that forever.

Her parents told her to take what she wanted out of the attic and get rid of the rest. She didn't want to open all of the boxes, but she felt as though there had to be at least at couple things she could give to her friends or keep for herself.

Ripping out the tape on the first cardboard box she found, Milly opened it up and shone her flashlight to see what it contained.

...Bummer.

The box in question had a bunch of spare mechanical parts of which she had no use for. Her parents wouldn't have a use for them, either, because if they needed parts they would always just buy new. She kicked the box off to the side, making a group of distinguish which boxes she did open and which parts she didn't.

After an hour or two, Milly hadn't bothered to open many of the boxes. She opened the first dozen or so, but she was getting tired of finding random broken things no one had any use for. Aside from a few ties she could give to Zander, a few nice hair clips for Hailey,  surprisingly new notebook for Luke to write songs in, there really wasn't much.

She had been transporting most of the boxes out of the attic and into her room, which was getting cramped easily. Her parents said they'd just throw it all out or donate it once they got home, so Milly put most of them in trash bags for easy transport. This cycle went on for what felt like ages, and Milly felt like she was getting tired as she climbed back up into the attic again.

Just as she was about to kick one of the boxes into the group near the ladder, she noticed the "fragile" sticker imprinted on the side of it. It probably wasn't too important, she figured, but she didn't want to get in trouble if it was some kind of million dollar antique she ended up dropkicking. Milly kneeled down and opened up the box to see what was so fragile about it.

She shone the flashlight into the box and pulled out a singular picture frame. It was small, in a wooden rustic frame, and by the looks of it pretty old. Letting out a breath, most of the dust piled off the photo, and Milly swatted away the excess off the glass. She was quite curious to see what the picture was. The light of the flashlight went from the box over onto the newly found picture. 

Oh.

Oh no.

The memory captured was one of hers.

Buried so deep in her mind she almost forgot a time it was real.

What was captured in the photo was the Christmas of 2015, back when she was 10 years old and Drew was 11. Her hair was longer at the time, in a ponytail, and much less vibrant as she hadn't been able to dye it yet. Drew's hair was brown and shorter, as he also was under the rule of no hair dye. 

Milly had been sitting next to the Christmas tree, her eyes were wide with shock and excitement as the wrapping paper of her present was thrown off to the side. She held in her hands what is now her most prized possession in the entire world.

Her electric guitar.

At the time, she had to hold up the guitar with both hands. It was dark red with black accents and came with a hot pink guitar pick. 

Her smile in the photo shined brighter than ever, like a shining star against a dark night.

And off to the side, sitting next to her, smiling with her, was Drew.

Drew was excited alongside her, his excitement nearly matching hers.

Milly, looking down at the old and outdated photo, knew why.

Drew was the one who had picked it out for her originally.

All year long, he had to listen to her endlessly babble on and on about how much she wanted to learn guitar, blasting guitar heavy songs on the speaker in her room loud enough for the whole house to hear, even learning sheet music before she had the guitar.

Their parents were mainly going off the Christmas lists the both of them made, but that year, the two of them were allowed an allowance to get gifts for each other.

And Drew's mind immediately darted to the most expensive guitar he could find.

She appreciated it at the time. She appreciated it today.

But...

Comparing the boy in picture to the boy she knew now felt nearly impossible.

It was almost like he was a different person.

The Drew she grew up with seemed to have withered a long time ago. For the life of her, Milly just couldn't pinpoint when.

Was it in the sixth grade, when he decided to start befriending a bunch of assholes?

Was it in freshmen year, when Milly joined the music club? Did she set herself up to fail then?

Was it this year? When his friendship collapsed around him?

Or did she never know who Drew was at all?

…No, that couldn't be right.

Milly held the framed photo in her hand for a few moments, not strong enough to gather the courage to put it down. It was held firmly in her hands, trying to hold onto the memory as if it was trapped inside the frame. 

She sat it down shakily onto the wooden floor, looking back into the box she had just unsealed, and the memories coming with it. 

She did not have the motivation to continue.

...cleaning the attic.

Milly did not have the motivation to continue cleaning the attic.

Sitting on her bed and staring at the wall of her now cramped room, Milly tried to push the dwelling misery out of her head.

But it wouldn't leave.

It was stuck with her, stuck with her mind, stuck with her forever.

Her own brother was someone she didn't even recognize.

Milly laid down on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Who was he anymore?

Walking past Milly's room, Drew slightly cracked open the door.

He seemed to be in a bit of better mood than before, but he still looked completely miserable. Milly didn't have the hate to even blame him, he lost his best friend and girlfriend in the span of a week.

But she didn't have the will to forgive him, either.

"Did you finish cleaning out the attic already?" Drew asked, trying to make dull conversation.

Milly stilled.

"No. I mean, I started, I'm just..."

Milly looked down at the photo she held her hands.

"...I just got too tired. To finish up," she said dejectedly. She technically wasn't lying, but she really didn't want to spill the real reason why.

Drew silently nodded.

"I'll clean the rest, I guess."

Drew slowly closed the door, leaving Milly all alone in her pity.

Her conversations with Drew were barely conversations anymore. They only spoke a few words a day to one another that weren't hostile. The old Drew, the one she knew, she would talk to and annoy about whatever whenever.

But that wasn't real anymore.

Opening the bottom drawer to her nightstand table, Milly set down the framed photo and pushed it to the back of the drawer.

It would never be seen again, she would never be forced to look at it again, she would never be forced to look at what could've been ever again.

It would be forgotten like it deserved.

[nothasideblog]

Problems of All Sizes

Cal comes down with a cold and tries to power through. ---

He hates to say it, but shoveling would be much easier without Kata's “help.” Every fifteen minutes or so, she shouts, “Wait!” and scrambles down to pluck out a bug or root, spilling dirt into the bottom of the hole.

She’s just trying to be helpful, he knows, and she is, in the long run. The likelihood of finding pyrite is pretty high on Koboh, and the plants she sees tend to be useful.

But Cal isn’t thinking about the long run. He’s thinking about the growing crick in his neck and ache in his–...he pauses thoughtfully and rolls out his wrists. 

Everywhere, he decides. He aches everywhere. He wants to be done with this. 

There was a problem with Pyloon’s electrical system. Cal woke up to the lights sporadically flickering and Greez swearing up and down. Cal quickly discovered that tinkering with the breaker box would not fix the problem. Hence, digging in the sand for wires. 

“Cal? Why’s your lightsaber blue?”

He also might want to be done with this because Kata has been asking a lot of questions lately. 

Usually, he can come up with something semi-intelligent to say. But, right now, he struggles to find any answer that satisfies her. He blames the heat getting to his head and the fact she gets sharper every day. 

 “That’s a good question. I don’t know. Why do you think it’s blue?”

She hums, turning over a sprout in her hand. “Is it because it’s your favorite color?”

He laughs a little, something catches, and he coughs once before saying, “I’ve honestly never really thought about it. I guess so.” He digs the shovel's tip under a stone and thinks of the glint of Merrin’s hair. Was silver a color? “Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe blue isn’t my favorite.”

“I didn’t think so. Red wasn’t Papa’s.” 

“I-hhheehh--HEt’SH!” Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, Cal sneezes, the shovel slips forward, and his head collides into the dirt wall. 

It’s all pretty embarrassing. Luckily, Kata reacts with grace–she holds her stomach and kicks her legs and she snorts-laughs so hard it has her choking for breath. 

Cal can’t help but let a little smile quirk at the corner of his mouth. He grabs her foot, shaking it with false venom, “Laugh it up. If I’m sick, guess who finishes the job?” 

She jerks her sandal from his grasp and stands up with a grin, “Merrin! I’ll go get her.”

“I meant you!” Cal calls after her, but she’s already around the corner. She’s faster than usual, and he swears he sees a hint of green. Merrin must be teaching her things. Good. That was good, right? 

Cal shifts his weight onto the shovel's step, and he meets the resistance of the wire’s rubber coating. He kneels to get to work, brushing away dirt with his hand to find the wire’s insulation cracked. He begins stripping away at it. 

A flash of green cracks to his right. He doesn’t need to look away from his work. He knows who it is, “Kata said you needed help,” Merrin’s alto voice rings out. 

“Well,” He starts taping over the newly restored wiring, “The hard part is over.”

“Do you want me to leave?” 

He turns to face her, “Of course, I don’t want you to–what?” He falters when her eyes flick up to his forehead and she smiles, not unsympathetic. 

He rubs at it with the back of his hand and it comes back with dirt. He can feel his ears turn pink. 

Merrin takes the shovel from his hand first and reaches down to help him out of the hole. Once he’s above ground again, she wordlessly begins finishing the task, pushing dirt back into place. Cal helps to the best of his ability, kicking it in with his foot. “Did she tell you how–…” “She told me how it happened, yes.” She shakes her head and uses her thumb to wipe the rest of the dirt off his face, ”What is wrong with you?”

Ears pinker still, he says, “Thanks. Nothing major. I, uh, think I might have picked up a bug.” 

She regards him carefully, eyebrows raised, “A parasite?”

“I think it’s-a-cold..!” As if confirming its presence, Cal pitches forward. This time, he covers it with the crook of his arm. “HAT’SHh’uH…ugh.” 

He feels a tug at the back of his neck and hears a tearing noise. Merrin pushes something into his hand—a piece of cloth. Bewildered, he sniffs, “Did you rip this off the back of my scarf? 

Merrin pinches the edge of what’s left of it behind him between two fingers. “Was it not more of a cape? Did you need it?”

“I guess not.” Cal huffs out a laugh and turns away to blow his nose. 

They walk back to Pyloon’s together. The doors slide open, and he’s relieved that half of the bar’s lights hold steady with a healthy hum. The other half remains disconnected and black. He’ll take it as a win. 

“Cal!” He turns to see Kata with a grin so wide he worries it’ll crack her face. “I helped make you something! Be right back!” He clears his throat to reply, but she’s already rushing towards the kitchen, weaving between customers. The regulars side-step her, used to her bursts of energy. 

Merrin slips into a booth, and Cal sits across from her. He swipes a few napkins from the dispenser and shoves them into his pocket. He pulls out three more and uses the first to swipe under his nose.

Merrin’s dark eyes watch him, and she smiles, amused, “You are like a Moog hoarding food for the winter.” 

“Well, at the rate I’m going, I won’t have much scarf left by the end of the night,” He huffs. 

“Excuse me!” Kata’s voice rings out around the corner. Cal pokes his head out of the booth to see her stepping heel-toe towards them, eyes glued to the giant steaming bowl of soup in her hands. It sloshes wildly from left to right. He morbidly thinks of how it’s a perfect representation of how his stomach feels watching the piping-hot liquid get dangerously close to her skin. 

He’s at her side instantly, lifting it from her grasp, “Is this for me?”

Kata follows him to the booth, crossing her arms, “Yeah but I had it!” She insists.  

“Sorry. Do you want it back?” he asks, though he’s already set it on the table and reclaimed his seat. 

Kata rolls her eyes, “It’s okay, I guess,” She scrambles up next to Merrin and sits on her knees.

Cal scoops up a heaping spoonful and sticks it in his mouth. It’s still steaming when he swallows it, but he can barely mind the burn when it’s wonderfully salty with something akin to dill. He chews on a bite of potato, “Did Greeze help you with this?”

Kata grins, “How did you know?”

Cal shrugs, “Because it’s delicious.” 

“Really?!” She plants her hands on the table to lean over to look into the bowl. Her eyes reflect the golden blobs floating in the broth. They look like stars. 

I saw the entire galaxy in her eyes. 

He feels a wave of nausea, but he pushes through and shoves the spoon back into his mouth. Under the table, Merrin taps his foot a little. He glances up and she gives him a questioning look. He smiles at her and hopes it’s reassuring.

“Tell us how you made it, child,” Merrin says, tucking a strand of hair behind Kata’s ear. 

“Greeze chopped the vegetables, but I added the spices,” Kata lights up, “They’re from the garden.”

Cal eats while she talks. The broth is rich and coats his throat, and the steam makes it easier to breathe. He should make sure Kata gets a bowl, one that hasn’t been contaminated with whatever head cold struck him this time. Unfortunately, his nose starts running before he can say anything. He ducks his face into another napkin, “Hih-HIt’SHuh!” 

“Sounds like you’re coming down with something nasty.” 

Cal sniffs, teary-eyed, as Greeze saddles up next to them and leans against Merrin’s side of the booth. “It’s not so bad. I ended up getting free soup out of the whole thing.” 

“You get a free bed along with it, too,” Greeze jerks his thumb towards Cal’s room, “Might as well make use of it.”

The thought is tempting. His head feels too heavy and too light simultaneously, “Thaahhnk-Hih!…” He catches himself, turning and blinking away the feeling. It leaves his nose buzzing. “Sorry, thank you. I’ll head down in a minute. I haven’t had a chance to catch up with Merrin.”

She shares a look with Kata, who grins and asks, “Who’s Berrid?” 

“Oh, ha ha,” Cal smiles, despite himself, “Our beloved Nightsister has nothing to say to that?”

“Don’t make fun of the ailing; it’s not honorable,” Merrin’s voice remains steady, but her eyes dance with laughter. “My day was fine, Cal.” 

He rests his cheek in his hand. She looks nice in this light. He wonders if everything looks different to her nocturnal eyesight. He sniffs and bites down a curse as his nose starts to itch again. “That’s good. You went book huh-hunting?” 

Her dark lips quirk into a smile, “I found an old text on magnets and galaxies. I left it on your bed.” Merrin had been exploring caves on Jeddah to help Cal link something–anything to figure out how to fix the compass. The design was so advanced, Cal struggled to even get the damn thing open. 

“HehH…!!”

But, reading books is a nice, non-physically exhausting activity, something to look forward to. He would be so lost without Merrin. He would be so dead without Merrin.

“RRt’SHHuh!” He buries his face into his napkin and tries to recover as casually as possible, but, “MPHHsshuh!!!” He blinks, dizzy. 

Merrin squeezes his forearm, “You should go take a look.”

“...Yeah, alright,” Cal lets his shoulders slump and he begins to get up, stiff. “Wait,” He squints, his focus hazing. He turns to Kata, “There’s enough soup left for you, right?”

Greeze laughs, “You don’t usually just make one bowl of soup, Cal, there’s a whole pot.” He seems a little disturbed, but that’s nothing new. Greeze is routinely unsettled by a lot of things Cal says these days. The thought makes him ache. 

A flash of green and a cool hand on his forehead diverges him from his thoughts. He’s having trouble holding onto those today–thoughts. But Merrin is taking his arm, so he’s fine with whatever happens next. 

“Goodnight Cal!” Kata calls after him.

They turn the corner and he slurs, “S’the middle of the day.” 

Merrin pushes his hair back. He fights a shiver creeping up his shoulders, and she whispers, “On’sila,” in his ear. He doesn’t know what it means, but the words are nice little puffs of air on his neck. She scrapes her nails down his scalp, and he finds his eyes closing. Her other hand guides him to lie down, and he recognizes the soft comforter of his bed. 

When did they get here?

The floor crackles and he hears the doors slide open. “What about the ‘old magnet text?’” He asks, and he winces when his voice breaks on “text.”

There are a few moments of silence where he worries he’ll fall asleep. But, soon enough, he feels the heavy weight of paper and leather as she drops it, rather heavily into his lap.

“You won’t last 15 minutes,” She wagers. 

He blinks his eyes open and sits up on his elbows. The world spins momentarily but settles, and he begins thumbing through the pages,“C’mon, give me at least twenty.” 

Merrin plucks it from his grasp. He doesn’t reach for it back but shoots her a questioning look. She meets it with a level stare, “I will read.” 

Cal rolls his eyes and starts to reach for it again, but she jerks it away and hastily announces, “To practice my Basic.”

That gets him reconsidering and relaxing back into bed, so she begins. “Magnetic fields in the spiral arms of our galaxy are tilted away from the galactic average by a high degree…”

[silver-shine123]

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[quackity1999]

RAPID FIRE QUIZ!

What was your first nest like?

How did you feel during your first mating season?

What’s one avian instinct you had trouble controlling as a child?

What’s your favorite word in Spanish?

What’s your favorite Mexican folk tale or legend?

Did you ever have a family pet growing up?

What’s your saddest birthday memory?

[ quackity stares at the pop-up for a second. what is this, an interview? ]

sheesh, okay. you're curious.

FIRST NEST: it was back in mexico, my parent's house. um. okay, i hid in the basement where we stored my grandma's couch cuz she couldn't fit it in her apartment- complicated story. anyway, i took my blankets, some well-insulated jackets and old t-shirts with me, snuck down and nested behind the couch. put up pillows on each end so i felt more, uh, enclosed, i guess. i can't remember too well. think i had teo with me, some marigold petals swiped from our día de los muertos ofrenda, one of my mom's cassette tapes, a year planner i got from a vendor when i went down to the market, all that stuff. janky attempt, but i didn't know how nesting worked yet.

MATING SZN: shitty. aaabsolutely shitty. i'm not gunna get into it right now, but maybe one day. bottom line is: i was fucking terrified.

AVIAN INSTINCT: i was a bit, uh. stupid. as a teenager.

when i was 11, i thought i could try and befriend the cooler kids around my neighbourhood by just— okay, there were these three rougher looking dudes who hung out and smoked ciggies near a barber shop. and, uhhh, i tended to follow them around sometimes. flocking, it's called. y'know, seeking out peers and shit. my mother didn't trust them, though, and if she smelled cigarettes on me, i'd get a whole mouthful about stranger danger.

aside from that, i had a habit of sharing food with people. offered up snacks or saved something special for someone i trusted.

if i ever got into an argument, which wasn't too often, but i certainly didn't shy away from having an opinion: i wasn't graceful about it. i'd flap my fucked up feathers and start chirping (literally) while trying to point out my own stances, and ended up never being taken fucking seriously. so.

ESPAÑOL? : mi palabra favorita podría ser escarlata. it's a pretty word, rolls off the tongue, and gives off some bold imagery.

FOLK TALES: if i had one off the top of my head, i'd tell you. but i'd have to try and recall bedtime stories from my childhood, and i've forgotten a fair amount of their details.

FAMILY PETS: we couldn't afford one, dude! but i got overly attached to a jaguar i saw on a rare visit to the zoo and fully believed it was a tiger, so i took it upon my 8 year old self to abruptly declare it was my own pet that'd been stolen from me, or some shit. aptly named the poor thing "tiger" and talked about him for months afterward. haven't seen him in . . a long while now, but it's not like i have the time to go back. he's probably dead. sorry. ANYWAY.

UNHAPPY BIRTHDAY: probably my 15th, when my parents were too busy fighting the day away to give me much of anything. i mean, they'd done decorations and a few gifts, but at some point money turned into a debate-- as well as who's presents were more useful for my development, so. i holed up in my room, took a nap, and read up on how contract and constitutional law worked. then i hung out on the rooftop and watched the sunset.

um. is that all?

[wirewitchviolet]

How a Computer Works - Part 3 (Miniaturization and Standardization)

For anyone just joining in, I'm writing a series of posts explaining perhaps haphazardly all there is to know about how a computer works, from the most basic fundamental circuitry components to whatever level of higher functionality I eventually get to. As explained in the first post on this subject, I am doing this just in pure text, so that if you are inclined you can straight up print these posts out or narrate them onto some audio tape or whatever and have full access to them should every computer in the world suddenly collapse into a pile of dust or something. Part 1 mainly covered the basic mechanical principles of circuitry and how to physically construct a logic gate. Part 2 covered logic gates in detail and how to use them to create a basic working architecture for a general purpose computer. Today we're going to be talking more about what you're looking at when you crack a machine open so you can make sense of all the important fiddly bits and have maybe a starting point on how to troubleshoot things with a multimeter or something.

Before getting into it though, I do have to shake my little donation can again and remind you that I do not know how I am going to get through the winter without becoming homeless, so if this is valuable to you, I'd appreciate some help.

Boards of Bread and Printed Circuits

With the things I've explained so far, you could totally build a computer right now, but it'd be a bit messy. You can totally buy resistors, transistors, capacitors, and diodes by the bagful for basically nothing, and cheap rolls of insulated wire, but there's all these long exposed pins to cut short and soldering things in mid-air is a messy nightmare and you'd just have this big tangle of wires in a bag or something that would almost certainly short out on you. So let's look into ways to organize stuff a little.

If you start playing around with electronics on your own, one of the first things you want to hook yourself up with besides raw components and wires is a breadboard or 12. And if you're watching people explain these things with visual aids, you'll also see a lot of them, so it's good to know exactly what they are and how they work. Your standard breadboard is a brick of plastic with a bunch of little holes in it. Incidentally, the name comes from how the first ones were literally just named after the wooden cutting boards for slicing bread people recycled to make them. Inside these holes there's some pinching bits of conductive metal which connect to each other in a particular way (pretty sure you can just see the strips that connect one if you pry the bottom off), so you can just jam a thing wire or prong into a hole, have it held in place, and make a connection to every other hole its connected to on the other side.

There is a ton of standardization to all of this. The holes should always be 0.1 inches apart () and split into two big grids. Everyone I've ever seen has 63 rows, each with 5 holes labeled A-E, a shallow channel through the middle of the board, and then another 5, F-J, and we generally have numbers printed every 5 rows. Down underneath, for any given row, the set of 5 pins on each side of the channel are connected. So, holes 1A, 1B, 1C, 1D, and 1E are all connected to each other, and nothing else. Holes 1F, 1G, 1H, 1I, and 1J are also connected to each other. There's no connection though between 1E and 1F, or 1A and 2A.

Most breadboards will also have a couple of "power rails" along the sides. These are just going to be labeled with a long red line and +, and a long blue or black line and -, and have holes in 2x5 blocks staggered out. With these, all 25 or 50 or whatever holes near the red + line connect with each other, and all the ones near the black line connect with each other. The gaps every 5 holes don't serve any purpose beyond looking different enough from the big grid so you hopefully don't mix it up and forget that these ones all connect down the length, and not in in little clumps across the width like everything else. The idea, for the sake of convention, is you plug a wire connected directly to the positive side of your battery or DC adapter or whatever into any red line hole, the negative side to any blue/black hole, and then tada, you can make a circuit just by plugging a wire in from red to a normal grid line, whatever bits you want span from that grid line to another, and eventually you connect the far end back anywhere on the black/blue line.

With a nice circuit board, there's also little snap-together pegs along the sides, and the power rails are just snapped on with those. So you can just kinda cut through the backing with a knife or some scissors, snap those off, connect multiple boards together without redundant power rails in the middle, and then just have these nice spare long lines of linked sockets. In the computer I'm building on these, I'm just using spare power rails for the bus. Oh and the big grooved channel down the middle also has a purpose. Bigger electronic components, like our good good friend the integrated circuit, are generally designed to be exactly wide enough (or more, but by a multiple of 0.1 inches) to straddle that groove as you plug their legs into the wires on either side, so they nicely fit into a breadboard, and there's a handy gap to slide something under and pry them off later on.

Typically though, you don't see breadboards inside a computer, or anything else. They're super handy for tinkering around and designing stuff, but for final builds, you want something more permanent. Usually, that's a printed circuit board, or PCB. This is pretty much what everyone's going to picture when they think about the guts of a computer. A big hard (usually) green board with a bunch of intricate lines, or "traces" running all over made of (usually) copper. And maybe with some metal ringed holes punched all the way through (they call those vias). These tend to look really complicated and maybe even a little magical, but they're honestly they're just pre-placed wires with a sense of style.

Most of the material of the board is insulated. The copper traces conduct real well, and manufacturers have done the math on just how close together they can be run without connecting to each other in places you don't want. The holes that go all the way through are for either plugging other bits in that tend to come with long legs you maybe want to keep intact, or just ways to run a trace through to the other side, where we often have traces on the back too to maximize our space. Most of what makes them look all cool and magical is how the traces run as close packed as possible to conserve space, and tend to only turn at 45 degree angles, which is just an artifact of how the machinery used to etch them out sued to be iffy about anything else.

So tada, you have all your wires pre-stuck to a nice sturdy board, and maybe even have labels printed right on there for where you solder all the various components to finish the thing. Oh and when you hear people talk about like, motherboards and daughterboards? The big main board you have for everything is a motherboard. Sometimes you need more than that, so you make smaller ones, and connect them up ether with some soldering or cartridge style with end-pins sliding snugly into sockets, and those we call daughterboards.

Integrated Circuits, or as they're also known, "chips"

The last thing you're likely to find if you crack open a computer, or just about any other electronic device that isn't super old or super super simple, are integrated circuits. Generally these are think black plastic bars that look like you'd maybe try to awkardly use them to spread cheese or peanutbutter on crackers in a prepacked snack or something, with rows of tiny little legs that running along either side. Kinda makes them look like little toy bugs or something. Sometimes they're square with pins along every edge, because sometimes you need a lot of pins. These are integrated circuits, or microchips, or just chips, and wow are they handy.

Sometime back in the 60s when people were really getting their heads around just how ridiculously small they could make electronic components and still have them work, we started to quite rapidly move towards a point where the big concern was no longer "can we shrink all this stuff down to a manageable size" and more "we are shrinking everything down to such an absurdly tiny size that we need to pack it all up in some kind of basically indestructible package, while still being able to interact with it."

So, yeah, we worked out a really solid standard there. I kinda wish I could find more on how it was set or what sort of plastic was used, but you take your absurdly shrunken down complex circuit for doing whatever. You run the teensiest tiniest wires you can out from it that thicken up at the ends into standard toothy prongs you can sink into a breadboard or a PCB with that standardized pin spacing, and you coat it all in this black plastic so firmly enveloping it that nothing can move around inside or get broken, hopefully.

And honestly, in my opinion, this is all TOO standardized. The only real visible difference between any two given integrated circuits is how many legs they have, and even those tend to come to some pretty standard numbers. They're always the same size shape and color, they all have the same convention of having a little indented notch on one side so you know which end is which, and they all seem to use just the worst ink in the world to print a block of numbers on the back with their manufacturer, date of assembly, a catalog number, and some other random stuff.

For real if there's any real comprehensive standard for what's printing on these, I can't for the life of me find it. All I know is, SOMEWHERE, you've got a 2 or 3 letter code for every manufacturer, a number for the chip, and a 4 digit date code with the last 2 digits of the year, and which week of that year it was. These three things can be in any order, other things can also be on there, probably with zero spacing, and usually printed in ink that wipes away like immediately or at least is only readable under really direct light, it sucks.

Once you know what a chip is though and look up the datasheet for it, you should have all sorts of handy info on what's inside, and just need to know what every leg is for. For that, you find which end has a notch in it, that's the left side, sometimes there's also a little dot in the lower left corner, and hopefully the label is printed in alignment with that. From there, the bottom left leg is pin 1, and then you count counterclockwise around the whole chip. You're basically always going to have positive and negative power pins, past that anything goes. You can cram a whole computer into a single chip, yo can have someone just put like 4 NAND gates on a chip for convenience, whatever.

OK, but how do they make them so small?

OK, so, mostly a circuit we're going to want to shrink down and put on a chip is just gonna be a big pile of logic gates, we can make our logic gates just using transistors, and we can make transistors just by chemically treating some silicon. So we just need SUPER flat sheets of treated silicon, along with some little strands of capacitive/resistive/insulating material here and there, and a few vertically oriented bits of conductive metal to pass signals up and down as we layer these together. Then we just need to etch them out, real real small and tight.

And we can do that etching at like, basically infinite resolution it turns out. It just so happens we have access to special acids that eat through the materials we need them to eat through, but that only work when they're being directly hit with fairly intense UV light. And a thing about light is when you have say, a big cut out pattern that you hold between a light and a surface, it casts a shadow on it... and the scaling of that shadow depends entirely on the distances between the light, the pattern, and the surface. So if you're super careful calibrating everything, you can etch a pattern into something at a scale where the main limiting factors become stuff like how many molecules thick things have to be to hold their shape. Seriously, they use electron microscopes to inspect builds because that's the level of tininess we have achieved.

So yeah, you etch your layers of various materials out with shadow masks and UV acid, you stack them up, you somehow align microscopic pins to hold them together and then you coat the whole mess in plastic forever. Tada. Anything you want in a little chip.

ROMs, maybe with various letters in front

So there's a bunch of standard generally useful things people put into ICs, but also with a computer you generally want some real bespoke stored values with a lookup table where you'll keep, say, a program to be run by feeding whatever's inside out to the bus line by line. For that we use a chip we call Read Only Memory, or ROM. Nothing super special there, just... hard wire in the values you need when you manufacture it. Manufacturing these chips though is kind of a lot, with the exacting calibrations and the acid and the clean rooms and all. Can't we have some sort of Programmable ROM? Well sure, just like build it so that all the values are 1, and build a special little thing that feeds more voltage through than it can handle and physically destroy the fuse for everything you don't want to be a 1.

OK that's still kind of a serious commitment. What if I want to reuse this later? Oh, so you want some sort of Erasable PROM? OK someone came up with a funky setting where you overload and blow out the fuses but then if you expose the guts of the chip to direct UV light through this little window, everything should reform back to 1. Just like, throw a sticker on there when you don't want to erase it. Well great, but can we maybe not have me desolder it and take it out to put under a lamp? Oh la de da! You need Electronically Erasable PROMs? EEPROMs? I guess we can make THAT work, somehow. They're still gonna be slow to write to though, can't have anything. I mean, not unless we invented like, flash memory. Which somehow does all this at speeds where you can use it for long term storage without it being a pain. So that's just kinda the thing we have now. Sorry I don't quite get the principles behind it enough to summarize. Something about floating components and needing less voltage or whatever. Apparently you sacrifice some read speed next to older options but hey, usable rewritable long term storage you just plug in, no jumping through extra hoops.

So OK. I think that's everything I can explain without biting the bullet and explaining ALUs and such. Well, there's keyboards (they're just buttons connecting input lines), monitors (these days, LEDs wired up in big grids), and mice (there's spokes in wheels that click X times or cameras checking the offset values of dust on your desk or whatnot).

Maybe throw me some money before we move on ?

CONTINUED IN PART 4

[ahedderick]

Blood

Ok. woo. I think I can write this up, now.

My son's Dr decided he needed a specific long-Covid test. We had to send away for it. A kit came in the mail, complete with an insulated mailing pouch, two tiny cold-packs, a vial, and an outer mailer (Fed-ex). Plus a whole lot of paperwork.

Yesterday morning we set off to go to Labcorp and get the blood drawn. It is in the same general direction as the Fed-ex building, so that was a plus. However, when we checked in, the lady at the desk looked at the paperwork and started making phone calls. Soon she told us, "we can't do that here, you'll have to go to the hospital lab."

Drat. We left, and it took me a minute to figure out how to get there - despite having lived here my whole life. Our town is cut up seven different ways by railroads, cliffs and steep ridges, perpetual construction, and rivers. Getting from Here to There can be an exercise in imagination. We did get there, however.

The diagnostic lab at the hospital can be a little crowded, but it didn't look too bad when we went in. We were somewhat under a deadline, because the sample had to be delivered to Fed-ex in time to be overnighted back to the lab it came from.

The lady who was checking us in told us our paperwork needed authorization from the Dr. (As we had gotten it direct from a lab, it had never passed through the doc's hands or been signed by her) Calls made. Faxes sent. More papers printed. At this point we were juggling three sets of paperwork.

Son was called back, and I went with in case there were more questions. The phlebotomist looked over his package in puzzlement, and made a phone call. Really, at that point, she should have talked to me first. It took her a w-h-i-l-e on the phone to get certain what was happening (she draws the blood, hands the sample to us, we take it to Fed-ex.) She then turned to try to explain all that to me. "Yes! I know. We will take it to Fed-ex!" I was trying to keep cool and calm, but getting a bit frustrated by this point. Then she said there was still paperwork missing, and left on a lengthy excursion to go get it from the front desk lady.

Finally, blood was drawn. She handed me the insulated foil package, and son and I got the heck out of there. Finding, on our way out, that the adhesive strip that was supposed to seal the insulated package was not actually sticky. Honestly, if you looked very closely, it looked like it had been stuck down once and reopened. It HAD to be sealed to ship, because the cold packs must be kept close to the sample, and the outer packaging was quite big.

Got in the car, feeling quite tense. We have been working on this [simple] project for an hour and a half, now. We zoomed off to Ace hardware, which was at least on the way to the Fed-ex drop-off. Grabbed a big roll of Gorilla tape. Stood in line while the pleasant cashier rang up the gentleman in front of us, and chit-chatted. The man behind us told Son that he had used Gorilla tape to install his window airconditioning unit last spring, and had a heckuva time getting it back out to put away for fall. I had questions, and did not ask them.

Car! Package! Open tape! Unable to tear tape! Use car keys to saw through tape! Seal inner package! Seal outer package! ZOOM!

The Fed-ex place was in&out-simple. Thank. God. We left feeling drained.

Shortly after I got home, Larry the Appliance Guy showed up. While it took a month, he had received the part to fix my oven. I can now bake again. I should bake. a treat.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Really random thought

Sakusa is dating a manager from another team and he gives them his jacket so he can find the in a tournament crowd and they wear it and there team sees it and they lose their minds

Probably tendou/noya and Tanaka

😂😂😂 bhahahahahhahaha ok but imagine it with Inarizaki 👀 Sakusa totes knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s been getting under Atsumu’s skin since 2012 ✋🏻

Sakusa told you to take his jacket because there was a “breeze” in the stadium and he was not about you getting any sort of sickness. He also wasn’t about to have you get lost in the crowd.

You shrugged, not thinking much about it because Sakusa would only ever mean well right?

Right 👀

You slip the jacket over your Inarizaki’s manager jacket because why not 🤷🏻‍♀️

You make your way back to your team and Akagi is the first to spot you

He’s all like 😐🤨

Omimi follows with the confusion because they are definitely sure their team colors did not change from Black, Maroon and white to freaking lime green and yellow.

Honestly iconic colors 👏🏻 10/10 to the Itachiyama design team

Ginjima and Aran spot you next and they are like

👁️👄👁️

Suna is just video taping this entire time 🙄

Kita notices you and narrows his eyes because he’s worried you’re cold and he can’t have that! Perhaps the Inarizaki jackets need more insulation 🤔

“Hey guys!” You say, as these dummies just stare at you

Thankfully the silence doesn’t last long because good things never last on this time

“YN WHAT THE HECK ARE YA WEARIN!?!?” Atsumu screams, “THAT’S ITACHIYAMA’S JACKET!”

You, looking down and shrugging, “yeah it is! Omi gave it to me.”

“Omi as in Sakusa KiyOMI??” Atsumu shouts again

“Do you know any other Omi’s Sumu?” Osamu interrupts

“YN this is a huge betrayal of our trust!” Atsumu bellows as you roll your eyes, trying to ignore him as best you can

That’s a pipe dream Yn let’s be 4 real mkay

“Atsumu will you shut up. I gave Yn my jacket so they didn’t get lost in the crowd,” Sakusa said, interrupting the conversation as Atsumu glared back

“Are you saying we can’t protect our manager?” Atsumu growled back

“I’m saying there’s a lot of people here and Yn could easily get lost,” Sakusa responded

Actually the team thought he had a decent point but they were still mad that Sakusa had put his jacket on you.

“I think we can protect Yn ourselves,” Aran said, removing Sakusa’s jacket and handing it back to him

Sakusa narrows his eyes at the team as you sigh and roll your eyes. Honestly you can’t have anything nice Yn.

“Thanks Omi, I appreciate you lending me your jacket! Can I keep it for after the game?” You inquired, thinking this would fix everything

“YN you can wear my jacket!” Atsumu yells as you smile at him.

“YN is my partner, they will wear my jacket!” Sakusa growls in response

You rn 👉🏻 🌳 🐜 🌳

“Ok enough!” Kita finally interjects, “YN can wear Sakusa’s jacket after our match. Now let’s go warm up.”

Sakusa is just smirking at Atsumu as Ginjima tries to hold him back

Of course, Osamu has to continue to egg him on because why not

“Didnt Yn reject you asking them out like 7 times?” He says as Atsumu narrows his eyes

“Actually it was 9,” Suna chimes in

You 👉🏻😐

Really Yn what did you expect 😂