#tin solder

[darkercrafts]

Soldered little earrings

Stone: blood stone

Earring: sterling silver

Please interact it would help me out a lot <<<33333

[shallowseeker]

Could you please do one of your play-by-plays with Dean and Cas fight in 11.03 The Bad Seed?

I have a partial that's embedded into the giant freeform Samwena post! (scroll a thousand years, and it's at the very bottom under "Last Bit")

I think... if you don't mind, I'll talk about the symbols in the set here, since the play-by-play is a bit embedded in the Samwena meta already? If that's not what you wanted, hit me again!

///

High Ground, low ground, and meeting in the middle

This scene is steeped in symbolism, illustrating the connection and contrast between Cas and Dean. The motifs surrounding them visually embody their respective struggles and personalities while framing their journey toward mutual understanding and, as Dean maybe views it, forgiveness and equilibrium.

///

Cas:

Creepy blue-eyed mask, brown-and-tan-bear, imposing larger-than-life soldier, tall red scaffolding.

Tall "Heavenly" scaffolding

Symbolism: The scaffolding represents Heaven and the heavy burden of Cas’s celestial duties. It symbolizes the high expectations placed upon him. The responsibilities always seem to loom over him. (We often see him pictured with skyscraper paintings for the same motif.)

Fragility: Scaffolding is both strong and precarious, reflecting Cas’s internal struggle—holding others up even as his own foundations are unstable.

Juxtaposition: Its towering nature contrasts with Dean’s low "valley" of stacked pallets, visually framing their dynamic as one of opposites that complement each other.

Creepy blue-eyed "Jimmy Novak" mask

Uncanny familiarity: The mask evokes Jimmy Novak, Cas’s vessel, but it's wearing a wicked expression. It’s a haunting reminder of Cas’s sacrifices and the cost of his mission, as well as the evil he's committed in the name of Heaven.

Puppet symbolism: Paired with the attack dog spell, it reflects the manipulation Cas has faced, being lured into false choices by others. Metatron’s schemes, Sam's pressure to save Dean his way, and now Rowena’s attack dog spell aimed to mold Cas into a tool for their ambitions.

Contrast: Where the mask is lifeless and haunting, Cas’s actions—falling towards Dean—are full of life and vulnerability, reclaiming his agency in their shared connection.

The brown-and-tan teddy

Overcoat resemblance: The coat evokes Cas’s steadfast loyalty, symbolizing his commitment to the "lower" human family over the lofty ideals of higher corporations or celestial orders. It represents his role as a protector and provider—a fatherly duty he has embraced with quiet resolve. Beneath its stoic, utilitarian exterior lies a softer, more vulnerable core, reminding us that his dedication to humanity is not just a role but a choice rooted in compassion and love.

Truck connection: The brown color also ties to Cas’s truck, a practical and grounded symbol of his efforts to navigate the human world. It suggests Cas's willingness to carry burdens alongside Dean.

Heart: The teddy bear symbolizes Cas’s emotions—a visual representation of his big heart. "Too much heart was always Castiel's problem." Interestingly, the bear also ties him to Mary, Dean, and Jack, who each have their own connections to this symbol. Together, they form a thread of resilience and affection, woven through their shared stories and struggles.

Toy soldier behind the fence

Imposing presence: The tall toy soldier is standing at attention, evoking discipline, duty, and resolve, embodying Cas’s role as Heaven’s soldier and champion.

Fence as separation: The soldier stands behind a barrier, symbolizing the divide between Cas’s celestial obligations and his desire for personal connection. It reflects his struggle to reconcile these two worlds, the tension between divine orders and his own choices. The fence is not only a literal barrier but also a metaphor for the isolation Cas feels as he struggles with the roles imposed on him by Heaven, feeling often like an attack dog behind a dog fence, especially in the face of manipulation like Rowena's attack dog spell.

Contradiction: The rigid soldier contrasts with Cas’s current vulnerability, highlighting how far he has come from being Heaven’s unquestioning weapon to someone who prioritizes free will and love.

///////////////////

Dean:

Panda bear, trash bag, supporting shipping pallet, "low" valley

Shipping pallets ("low valley")

Grounded symbolism: The stacked pallets behind Dean represent a low and grounded point, reflecting his pragmatic, earthy nature. While Cas’s scaffolding reaches upwards, Dean's structure is rooted to earth and his newly restored humanity. Both the scaffolding and the palettes exist to support others—a foundation and a framework, designed not for their own glory but to uplift and enable those around them. Whether holding the weight or providing the colors, they are essential yet humble, serving quietly so others can stand tall or shine brightly.

Contrast: The pallets create a "valley" beneath the towering scaffolding, visually framing their dynamic: Dean grounded on earth, always supporting his family at the expense of his own happiness, Cas's connection to Heaven, carrying out Heaven's missions at the expense of his own emotions.

False choices: Just as pallets are tools for transporting heavy loads, they symbolize Dean's emotional labor. The false choices imposed on him—becoming Cain’s heir to the Mark or succumbing to Crowley’s manipulation to get ahead in Hell—tried to burden him, framing his suffering as necessary to support others' ambitions. (And often taking away his agency through dishonesty, disinhibition, violation, and manipulation...)

Black-and-white panda

Symbol of duality: The panda’s stark black-and-white design mirrors Dean’s struggle with his inner contradictions—his tough exterior versus his deeply caring heart.

Dean's heart: Like Cas’s teddy bear, the panda hints at forcefully suppressed emotions. It represents Dean’s suppressed desires for simplicity and peace, often overshadowed by his heavy responsibilities to others.

Caretaker role: Pandas are famously “lazy” but also intensely nurturing. This parallels Dean’s role in the group: someone who masks his nurturing instincts behind a gruff exterior, often doing the “heavy emotional lifting” further embodied by the garbage bag nearby.

Garbage bag

Emotional labor: The garbage bag signifies the emotional burdens Dean has carried, often for the sake of others. He cleans up messes, both figuratively and literally, reflecting his tendency to internalize pain to protect others.

Self-worth: Dean’s bag highlights the emotional weight he shoulders for those around him, often suppressing his own feelings as he prioritizes the well-being of others. Dean’s bag represents internalized responsibility, highlighting his struggle with self-worth and his tendency to see himself as expendable. :(

///

Coercive roles: Overcome by Rowena’s attack dog spell, Cas’s violent actions against Dean reflect how external forces have repeatedly manipulated him—first by Metatron, then pressure by Sam, and now by Rowena. His motifs emphasize the imposed expectations of Heaven, his vulnerability, and his struggle to reclaim agency. Dean’s recent history with the Mark of Cain echoes Cas’s experience. Both were enticed by false choices that appeared necessary or inevitable—first with Crowley manipulating Dean to get him to take out Abaddon, then Dean being force-fit to Cain’s parallels—all engineered while damaging his free will. Each was a tool, trapped in narratives designed by others to fit their ambitions, often at the cost of autonomy. Dean in particular is framed as a support character. Dean is the one who defeats Abbadon, but Crowley takes the credit and at first relegates to Dean as a side accessory in his own Kingly narrative.

Agency (temporarily) restored: In trying to free Dean and restore both his free will and decision-making faculties, Cas lost his own, becoming overwhelmed by the attack dog spell while trying to follow Sam’s coercive plan. (Despite voicing his misgivings and pushing Sam to come clean, Cas found himself bound to the plan he couldn’t fully support... and he suffered the consequences for it.)

In this moment in 11x03, Dean rushes to save Cas, and Dean and Cas are temporarily broken free from their imposed molds, reclaiming their right to define themselves. The act of reaching for each other becomes a shared rejection of the constraints that others tried to impose on them.

Unfortunately for them, this victory is only temporary—an uneasy re-establishment of equilibrium. The cycle will inevitably repeat, but next time, it will be Lucifer who claims Cas's free will, as Cas sacrifices it once again in a desperate attempt to save Dean, whose free will is now beholden to/enslaved to Amara.

[spheroidization]

really enjoying The Terror but my job at a research lab for a can making company is making it difficult to not focus on their bad cans. Please show me the failed solder I would like to see it

[mycological-mariner]

You know what, I really should revisit my building-pirate-radios-in-the-garage-at-10pm phase from when I was 15-19. That was a good phase.

[shallowstories]

The tin soldier's passive acceptance of whatever happens to him, while exemplifying pietistic ideals of self-denial, also contributes to his doom.

Were he to speak and act, the soldier might gain both life and love. Restrained, however, by inhibition and convention, he finds only tragedy and death.

[bitchfitch]

I really don't need more projects, i have so many already in the works. I say to myself as I add 'candles/wax' 'sand' and 'pewter' to my shopping list.

[shihkas]

has a breakdown over my stupid halloween costume.

[reachem07]

PCB Manufacturing Process: All You Need to Know

Creating a printed circuit board (PCB) is a systematic process that begins with meticulous design and material selection, crucial for ensuring functionality and durability. The initial steps involve the application of a thin layer of copper over a substrate material, typically a fiberglass substrate reinforced with epoxy resin and glass fiber, which provides the necessary rigidity and electrical insulation. This copper layer is then patterned to form conductive areas that will eventually carry electrical signals.

The layout design process utilizes advanced CAD software for precision, ensuring that the conductive paths and component placement areas are accurately defined. Once the design is finalized, it's transferred onto the PCB using photo reactive chemicals and UV exposure, a process known as outer layer imaging. This method allows for the precise alignment of layers and the creation of intricate circuit patterns.

After the design transfer, the excess copper is removed through a careful etching process, leaving behind the copper traces that form the circuitry. The PCB then undergoes a laminating process to apply a solder mask, a protective layer that covers the entire board while exposing the areas where components will be soldered. This solder mask application is crucial for preventing short circuits and ensuring the longevity of the PCB.

Following the application of the solder mask, a silkscreen printing process adds labels and markings to the PCB, aiding in component placement and board identification. The final step in the fabrication processes involves applying a surface finish, such as tin plating, to protect the exposed copper and ensure a reliable soldering surface. Other surface finishes like HASL (Hot Air Solder Leveling) or ENIG (Electroless Nickel Immersion Gold) are also used depending on the application requirements.

Throughout the PCB manufacturing process, precision is maintained through the use of technologies like CNC machines for accurate drilling of holes that will accommodate electronic components. Each part of the PCB fabrication process, from the initial design to the final surface finish, is critical to enhancing the PCB's electrical performance and longevity.

The final stages of assembly involve the placement of components onto the PCB, often by a contract manufacturer specializing in PCB assembly. This is followed by soldering, which can be done through various methods, to securely attach the components to the board.

Rigorous electrical tests are conducted to validate the PCB's performance, ensuring that it meets stringent quality standards before integration into electronic devices. These tests verify the integrity of the conductive paths, the correct orientation of components, and the overall functionality of the PCB.

This holistic approach underscores the importance of meticulous craftsmanship and thorough quality assurance in producing reliable PCBs that power our modern gadgets effectively. Each step, from the initial plating process to the final surface finishing, contributes to enhancing the PCB's electrical performance and longevity, making it a vital component in the electronics industry.

To read more please visit: 

Reachemical chemicals

reachemchemicals@gmail.com

16479857177

600 Matheson Blvd W Unit 5, Mississauga, Ontario ,ON L5R 4C1.

[tenth-sentence]

Historically, tin was used widely as a constituent of metal alloys, of which bronze, solder and pewter are common examples.

"Chemistry" 2e - Blackman, A., Bottle, S., Schmid, S., Mocerino, M., Wille, U.

[roseyodditea]

Sit Still! - Boothill x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.1k words. You're a mechanic who's been forcibly given the impossible task of repairing Boothill, the most stubborn customer you've ever done (even if this wasn't the first time)

Warnings -> None

A/N -> Is it obvious that I like working on electronics? No? Not proofread because I work a 7-5 office job and I am tired <3

********

“Hey! HEY! you keep that fudgin’ thing away from me!” Boothill jumps over the workbench in the middle of your workshop, watching your movements carefully. He was quite agile for a man that was on death’s door when he stumbled in here a mere half hour ago. 

You put the hot soldering pen down on the table against the wall. “Boothill. Let me do what I need to do.” Boothill crouches down like a wild animal, practically growling, his jaw clenched tightly. “What are you planning on doin’ with that thing?” “How the hell have you gone this long without using a soldering iron? How do you keep your body functional?” You lunge and reach for the back of his jacket, grabbing him by the collar as he tries to skitter away, but his damaged systems cause him to be slower and weaker than normal. “Whatever that thing is, my sensors say it’s hot and it smells forkin’ awful!” He tries even harder to wiggle out of your grasp, but he doesn't want to hurt you. You were the only mechanic in this star system that still put up with his shit. “Normally they turn me off for repairs. I ain’t never been awake for one.”

“Yeah well. I need you conscious for this part.” You shove him towards the workbench and he obeys, sitting up on it. “Lay down, open up your chest panel.” You command and push him down. 

“What are you plannin’?” He bites back the distrust and decides to lie down on the bench. He opens up his chest panel and watches you closely, the targets in his pupils lock on like he was about to rip out your jugular with those sharp teeth of his. “I will explain everything I do before I do it. Will that make things better?” You muster a soft tone, trying not to show that you are annoyed at his behavior already. Sure you had the stubborn electronics and machines that made you lose sleep, but this is the first time the repair work was done on someone who could give you sass. You don’t have the bedside manners for this…

Boothill still watches wearily, but at this point, he has no choice, his systems are borderline critical. He had already ignored the warnings for this long. “Alright… yeah… that’ll make it better.” You pick back up the soldering iron and show it to him. “This is a soldering pen. I’m going to use it to melt this stuff,” you pick up the roll of the thin metal that was on the table next to it, “onto the contacts between your wires and your circuit boards. It’ll help make sure everything is secure and won’t wiggle out of place. I need you awake because I need you to tell me if I set off any alarms and sensors in your body. Just as a failsafe to make sure I don’t accidentally kill you”

“Kill me!?”

“It’s a joke. Now shut up and don’t move”

He nods, still weary as you reach both your hands into his chest compartment, where he can’t see. He tries to hold down the panic, the fear, the worry. This was the most vulnerable he has ever been. This is why he likes being powered down for repairs. This was hell. The smell of molten tin permeates the air, only stressing him out further. 

“Calm down.” You say without looking up. “You’re fidgeting and I’m trying not to burn either of us.” He doesn’t listen. Of course, he doesn’t listen. His legs still fidget, his hands still move around, gripping the table. “Kinda hard when you’re wrist deep in my body. It tickles.”

“Boothill. Hold still.” You growl out, frustration building in your chest. This was delicate work on a not-so-delicate man. “Next time you squirm, I swear to whatever Aeon you worship-” He twitched again and your hand slipped, the soldering pen touching his bare circuit board, causing him to yelp out in pain. “Goddammit Boothill!!”

He shrinks away, recoiling from pain and your frustration. “Ah, shirt! It feels weird and I-” His words are cut off as you move to straddle his thighs, pinning his fidgeting legs underneath you. You point the hot soldering iron at his face. “Move again, and I will turn you off and just pray I don’t mix up wires.”

“Yes, boss.” He says, stunned as his hands instinctively move to rest on your thighs. “Ya know, last time I had someone on me like this I-” “Don’t” You reply, your hands working on sorting out the mess of wires he had let his innards become. You solder another wire down and look up into his eyes. “Is that one in the wrong spot?” “No, that feels right. I forgot I had that sensor.” He chuckles, relaxing against the workbench. “This ain’t that bad.” His hands gently trace circles against the material of your pants in an attempt to soothe his own anxiety. He could feel every movement your fingers made in his chest compartment. 

“Yeah, and it only took me thirty fucking minutes to get you to sit still.” You finish soldering all the wires down, satisfied with your work. “Alright. All done.” You toss the hot iron onto the table across the workshop. “See? Not that bad. You’re just whiny.” You move to get up, only to have Boothill tug you back down onto his lap, sitting up so you both are face to face. 

“Thank you.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of genuine gratitude.” You tease, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head. 

He adjusts his hat into the proper place. “I know I owe you credits, but what can I do to thank you, sugar? This ain’t the first time I’ve stumbled into your workshop late at night, mostly dead.”

“Just come back alive again.” You knock his hat out of place on purpose, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “That’s good enough for me.” You hop off of the workbench. “Now get the hell out and let me go to sleep. It’s too late at night to be lookin’ at your face.” “Yes, boss.” 

“See ya next time.” “There won’t be a next time.” He tries to keep up his tough appearance as you roll your eyes and move to sort and put away your tools. He smiles to himself and purposefully takes his whip off his belt, tossing it on the table while your back is turned and he slips out. 

Once you knew he had fully slipped away, you rolled your eyes, grabbing the whip and hanging it up on the hook you installed on the wall just for this purpose. 

He always left a reason to come back, and you always pretended to be oblivious to it. 

**********

Super special super optional A/N -> someone sent me an anonymous message a couple days ago saying they like my writing and I CRIED. Turns out when you break out of your comfort zone and share a hobby you get support??? Odd.

[cupcakeslushie]

Completely irrelevant to your whole blog but I got excited- You’ve done stain glass?! I’ve wanted to get into it for YEARS and it just became one of those things I never got around to.

Any advice for the best way to start it or practice?

Are there any favorite pieces you’ve made that you’d be willing to show off? That lemon one is adorable

Thank you! The lemon one is probably one of my fav pieces! But I also love this crawfish one! I’ll be both happy and sad when it finds a home, cause I like it so much lol!

As for starting….

I’ll be very honest. It’s an expensive hobby to get into and it has a pretty big learning curve. You’re going to get sliced up, burned and covered in all kinds of pretty toxic chemicals (but if you take care and make sure you’ve done your homework on safety then you’ll be fine). And your first couple of pieces are going to look like dogsh*t lmao.

If none of that scares you off, then it’ll be so much fun!

There’s a bit too much to cover in one post, but I’ve got a playlist on my yt channel on the videos that have helped me. YouTube videos taught me everything, the rest I learned through trial and error, and via some friendly Facebook groups.

Hobby lobby has some starter glass supplies. Mine lasted about a year before wear and tear broke them down, but if you start small and realize you want to continue, you can upgrade as you go.

The essentials are basically: of course glass, a cutter, a grinder, running pliers, grozers, copper foil (the default size is 7/32), flux, a soldering gun (the only thing I’d suggest getting higher end right away. I have a hakko), 60/40 solder. And copper tinned wire to make jump rings, plus some chain or heavy duty leather ect for hanging.

You can get things like all the different patinas, wax, fancy tools later, once you’re sure you wanna go all in. It’s unfortunately a hobby where you can’t really start small, just cheaper.

I don’t wanna make this too long, but I can make another post about just random tips I’ve learned (and am still learning) the hard way over the years if anyone is interested!

Good luck!!!

[specialagentartemis]

I just started trying out stained glass, which I know you also do...any hot tips for beginners or things you wish you'd known when you were first learning?

YOOO STAINED GLASS. Fave. I would love to see what you come up with!

Are you primarily using foil+solder or lead came? I've never actually used came so I have very little advice in that department, though I do want to at some point...

Some things to keep in mind, some imparted to me by my craft center teachers and some discovered by trial and error:

Get a designated box to cut glass over, because the more ambitious the shapes you want to cut, the more shards WILL go everywhere and you want to keep them contained.

If you're cutting glass by hand, you cannot make sharply concave shapes. You will think you can. You will think it can't be that hard. You WILL push your luck. You will end up frustrated. Avoid concave shapes.

If you want to cut concave curves, make them very gently and generously sloped.

If you want to incorporate concave shapes in your design, use multiple pieces of glass to make the curve.

Design with glass in mind from the get-go, rather than trying to adapt a complicated image. If you're designing your own work, try to build it around larger, geometric shapes, without a lot of small fiddly curves. Small fiddly curves DO make fun images, but they will also drive you crazy when they inevitably don't quite fit together right. Make sure you build in enough larger, geometric shapes into your design to anchor your piece and save your sanity.

That said. NGL incorporating things like fossils and marbles and weird shaped natural things is Fun. You can wrap anything you want in copper tape.

Draw or print out your pattern on paper and number each piece on both the pattern and the glass itself. Sharpie wipes off glass pretty easily.

When grinding glass, make sure each piece is ever so slightly smaller than it is on your pattern. The thickness of copper tape seems negligable but adds up when you want pieces to fit precisely.

There are non-lead solders, and they're basically fine, if a little more annoying to use. Lead melts more easily, but I usually use zinc because it's not lead lol. Though if you're not eating off of your stained glass, using lead proooobably isn't a huge deal. Always wash your hands after glasswork regardless.

Tip tinner is your friend! Tin the tip of your soldering iron before and after use, it makes it so much easier.

When you're soldering pieces together, I find laying down a base of thick cardboard, laying out your design on the cardboard, and then using thumbtacks around the edges to anchor the glass pieces in place and prevent them from sliding around helps a lot.

If you want to hang up your stained glass creation like a suncatcher, add loops or hooks, and try to put them at junctures/seams of different pieces of glass to distribute the weight and pressure. My go-to method to make loops for hanging the pieces is to take a metal paperclip, and then loop it around needlenose pliers to make a circle with the wire sticking straight out on either side. Lay the flat wire ends along the outside and solder it down. It makes good secure loops that you can tie a ribbon or attach a chain to, while distributing the pressure along the outside of the piece. And it’s metal so solder sticks to it.

I hope that's not too much! I love working in glass, it's fun and it's so pretty.

[hylianengineer]

Guess what I got on ebay!

I got this for ten dollars because it doesn't work (it's supposed to light up and make noise) and am now trying to repair it. Even if I can't, though, it's still pretty cool.

First problem, the on/off switch has been snapped off. It's that one on the lower left, but what looks like the switch is actually a fake, the real switch would be just below that one. The plastic is faintly discolored where it broke off. But it did break in the on position, so I don't think it's the reason this thing won't come on.

Second problem: the batteries fit too loosely in the compartment to make connections correctly. This is easily solved with tin foil.

But even with known working batteries, nothing happens. Now to take this thing apart and see what's happening with its guts.

Why does this thing have so many screws? On this tiny little box that's so cheaply made it could pass as a McDonald's toy. Some of the plastic around the screws is flaking off as I unscrew them, and leaving little microplastic bits all over the place

The top part comes off first

Then the screen pops out to reveal the lightbulb. It looks to be in good shape, despite all the other technical problems here.

Several more screws later...

Bingo! Found its guts! The lightbulb section comes out too. And the buttons, which fell off as soon as I opened the casing.

Is now a good time to mention I know very little about electronics? And also this thing is older than I am? The copyright date on the box is 1995.

All the soldered connections look intact - I was hoping for a loose wire or some other obvious problem, but alas it does not seem to be that simple. And I'm running out of image slots for this post, so I'll be back later with more photos and hopefully some advice from people who know more about electronics than I do. My mom is an electrical engineer, she'll think this is a blast.

[astracora]

Cold Metal, Warm Sensation

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc, Caleb x gn!mc (Caleb POV)

Warnings: Spoilers for Caleb's story.

Word Count: 3363

Written: 18th February 2025

Notes: Established-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. Ok I finally got this done, amidst the pain... This is pre Caleb joins Polycule fully, but it's post Caleb stops trying to lock MC in a box. (Unless they ask nicely). Polycule understand the agony of not being able to touch your loved one, lucky (and unlucky) for Caleb.

Now Playing: I'm With You, by Avril Lavigne

Masterlist

The first time his arm comes up, is after he says goodbye to you one morning. You have a mission with Xavier in the Fusion No-Hunt Area, so as you say goodbye to everyone, Caleb takes your right hand in his own.

It's become something of a routine for him, or a ritual, he thinks. He can't feel the metal of your prosthetic against his unfeeling right hand, but he can squeeze without worrying about hurting you. He looks down at your clasped hands, and watches as you squeeze back. Your other hand goes to his cheek and then you press a kiss to his skin.

It's fleeting, and quick, as you release and race off to follow Xavier. Yelling a final goodbye behind you, Mephisto follows on a gust of feathers.

He sits back at the kitchen counter, staring down at his hand, raising it to his cheek, and exhales a sigh.

No matter how much he touches you, it never seems to be enough. Like he is always missing something. An unending yearning or greed he can't sate properly. He can touch you with his left hand all he wants, but he still cannot stop feeling the loss of emptiness in his right like an eternal agony.

"You should let me take a look at it, if it bothers you that much tin-man." Sylus speaks from the side, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reads through some documents the twins have handed him.

Caleb is trying not to chafe around your polycule. He is, he tells himself. Even if he glares or huffs, faking smiles when you're around to not hurt you. They care about you, almost as much as he does, he supposes. So they'll do, for now. If nothing else than shields if things get bad.

If EVER want access to you, they can get through these four first.

Instead of responding to the N109's king, he turns away, grabs his coat and leaves.

He isn't their tool to experiment on. He's only ever a tool in your hands.

The second time it comes up is much later, he was injured in a fight, throwing himself in front of a Golem to protect you. Taking the things fist to his raised arm. He'd pushed through the pain, even as his arm was mangled in the process. Firing rounds into the thing's head.

As soon as it was felled, you'd pulled him to the side, furious and agitated. He'd laughed, "I'm fine." He promised, even as he felt the fever rising up through his body. His body failing him as the agony ripped through his system.

He vaguely remembers collapsing, hearing you call his name, and then talking to someone. When he wakes, he's back at your home. Their home. His home? In one of Sylus' rooms where he tinkers on Mephisto.

Spread out over the table, as the man works, humming along mostly in tune to a song Caleb has heard you singing to.

He feels like he's floating, and it's hard to speak, when his body feels so dreadfully heavy. The flash and heat of a soldering iron as parts are repaired, is familiar, though not comforting. Taking him back to cold lab walls, and agonising electrical storms through neurons.

It is one point of heat in his left hand, that tells him he's not there. Your head is on the table next to him, asleep as you grasp onto him like he'll disappear without your hand anchored to his.

Caleb thinks for a moment, that he probably hasn't given you reason to believe he wouldn't.

"They didn't stop crying until you stabilised." Zayne speaks as he enters the room. Mugs on a tray, as he places them down out of the way. "At least your recklessness hasn't changed, Caleb."

There's something quite disconcerting about the disapproval he sees in Zayne's cool eyes. There's a familiarity to it, one he's seen multiple times growing up, as the man had tended to wounds he'd gotten trying to impress or amuse you.

Climbing trees, jumping off a roof, trying to fly with his EVOL, standing up to bullies.

Any manner of reasons that had ended up with him with torn skin or bruises, that Zayne had then sat him down and tended to. Bandaged with careful, and far too steady hands for a child.

Zayne goes to hand him a mug, before realising he has no free hands, smiling softly down at you with warm eyes. Caleb feels his heart and chest twinge and twist. For all the ways he knows you better than he believes anyone else has, that he is the only safe harbour for you… he feels like he's banging up against the wall of realisation every day.

It feels like he's been sent out without coordinates for where his home base is. Waiting for you to walk away and leave him behind.

Not needing him, where he knows he still needs you.

Is he so easy to replace?

"You're thinking stupid things again, tin-man." Sylus speaks, pausing his work to reach over for his drink, and to tug Zayne down by his tie to place a kiss of thanks to his forehead, "Always staring like you're waiting for the doors to close in front of you. Loving someone isn't easy. It's a choice."

Caleb wants to snap, that he doesn't need lectures from a criminal, but truthfully what part of his hands aren't caked in blood that marks him one too. Battering against the realisation that every choice he has made, has made him someone you argue with, struggled with. That your heart is kinder than his is, because he only cares for you, and you care so much for so many.

Even though his heart aches, as he goes to pull his hand away from your tight grip, you stir. The three watch as you blink awake, one eye opening to look up at him. A sleepy, soft smile tugging scarred lips up into endearment, as you tighten your hand again. You exhale a 'morning', on an airy voice, and then nestle closer, "I'm glad you're ok Caleb."

He watches as your eyes close and your breathing evens out again, exhaustion clear in the lines on your face, but the strain softened by relief, and feels the deep urge to cry.

"Maybe you should give us a chance to help you. Instead of continuing to close doors on yourself." Zayne offers, indicating where Sylus has resumed his work, fixing Caleb's arm.

Despite himself… the man's work is clean, and careful.

He files it away to think about, but not now. When your hand is so warm in his.

The third time, is when he's watching Rafayel paint your prosthetic. Occasionally, you flinch under the brush, laughter spilling out. When he questions it, you smile at him, mismatched eyes twinkling. "It tickles."

He watches as the fish gets gleeful at this, dipping it back into the metal-safe paint and swirling it up and down your arm. Your laugh escapes you in a boom, and you pull away from him, "Raffy, stop!"

Xavier's head is jostled out of your lap, and you fling yourself forward, to take the brush from the man's hand, painting over his nose, then his cheeks, then his throat. When you're satisfied, you pull away and nod, "What a good piece of art I've created." Sticking your tongue out at him.

Rafayel pouts and pokes your nose in retaliation, taking his brush back to draw a heart and then a fish on your cheek, "But you've smudged my masterpiece." He indicates the smeared paint on your prosthetic.

Caleb has watched this routine several times, every now and then, you need to get the casing of your prosthetic properly cleaned, not just wiped down. When this happens, the 'decoration' Rafayel paints on, has to be replaced. You say this like it's of the utmost importance, and he doesn't really understand.

He would never have thought about decorating his own, hiding it away often, because that's easier. It's better. If he doesn't see it, maybe he doesn't have to think about it. Even if the abyss of sensation reminds him every moment.

Still, he has seen you look down at the finished paintings, turning your arm to smile at them, and the way your eyes soften.

So that day he asks why, why is it so important? While Xavier complains about being disturbed, and finds his way to Rafayel's lap, who uses one hand to brush through his hair, and the other to clean up the mess of your arm.

You look at Rafayel, then back at Caleb, reaching out with your left hand to brush strands of hair away from Xavier's eyes.

He watches the way you tilt your head, the way you flex your fingers, and then the way you turn to look back at him. Serious, and considerate. Like you'd never actually put it into words before, just felt it.

"I didn't like it originally, my arm. It was a reminder of failure, a reminder that I was different." The words ache in Caleb's chest, like a dagger through the heart. He wants to pull you into his arms, tell you you're perfect, but he watches how carefully you hold your arm for Rafayel's work and stills himself. "When Raffy first painted it, it looked pretty. I wanted to look at it." Caleb watches, as the fish takes your metal hand in his and places a kiss to the wrist, before resuming his work.

The brand has gotten softer over time. Less painful.

He doesn't grate and ache and burn, to watch them hold you. He's not sure when he changed so much.

"Over time it just became a routine, it made me like it more. Like my body more, to decorate it. Now I can look at it without the art and not hate it, but I still like to see Raffy's art on my body." You kiss the man in question's head.

"I have a good canvas, cutie."

Xavier nods against Rafayel's lap, "Pretty." is mumbled against his legs.

You look over at Caleb then, eyes bright, hopeful. Warm. He's always likened you to the sun, and every moment you grace him with your presence is a moment he's too lucky, too blessed and too spoiled. "I bet it'd be nice on yours too?"

He notices the fish's eyes flicker to him, sees the careful observation, and forces a laugh through a tight throat, "Maybe." Is all he can offer.

Because truly, wouldn't it be too good for him, to be given the right to love the thing that helped make him a monster.

The fourth time, he brings it up himself. He's watching the stars on the balcony, as Xavier and Sylus play a game of kitty cards they're both far too competitive with. As Zayne reads and Rafayel sketches.

You're in his arms, staring up at the sky, eyes flickering closed as you become more and more drowsy.

As Caleb looks at you, he reaches his right hand, to entwine your metal fingers with his own. Running his thumb over your hand, the ache deep in his bones to do it with his left hand so he can feel it.

He wants to feel it with both. He wants to hold you in both hands and feel complete again.

Instead of staring and willing himself to suddenly know the heat of your skin under his right hand again. Instead of seeing agony in your face when he's in pain, and that's the only time his right hand responds to the sensation of you.

His throat is tight, when he speaks, turning his head slightly to the others, "If you can fix it, then do it."

Caleb is not used to asking for help, or letting anyone see his weakness. He has always been told all through growing up to protect you, that you need him to be strong, that you need him to keep you safe. If he was weak, how could you ever want to rely on him?

He's had to learn through yelling matches, and doors closed in front of you. Through bitten off insults and frustration. Through you leaving and threatening not to come back. Through days of struggling to get himself to breathe, to see you again. To listen to what you were saying, before he could let you walk next to him.

Even if his heart still won't relax. Even if he still thinks about that maze he wants to build, that world just for the two of you.

He doesn't want to capture the butterfly and watch it die in his hands.

He thinks if that happened, he truly would hate himself.

When eyes turn to him, including yours, blinking in disbelief, he turns to face forwards. "If you can, anyway." His voice steady, he forces his heart to be stable, his emotions to stay level. Every part of him is trembling under the weight of being watched by people who see more than he wants them to.

"Sure tin-man. You can trust us." Comes the chuckle from the side.

"I'll get in touch with some specialists." Zayne adds, placing a bookmark in his page and leaving the balcony.

You turn in his arms, so you can sit facing him, hands releasing his, and moving up to hold his cheeks. He's sure there's a blush colouring his cheeks at the way you lean in, small smile twisting and press your lips to his forehead. "You can trust them." You affirm, nestling against his neck, when he finally wraps arms around you. A lump in his throat he fights back, "You can trust me."

He knows, above all other things in this world. Caleb knows he can trust you.

He always has.

He sits through testing, but instead of the kind of tests he'd faced with the Fleet and EVER, you are there. A warm familiar presence that reminds him he's not a lab rat. A weapon. A tool. He's Caleb, he always remembers he's Caleb when you're there.

He sits there while you talk to him, and he follows along with the specialists Zayne has called in, while Sylus and Xavier work on his arm.

Both far more adapted to technology than he'd have known.

It's a slow process, as they adapt and change his circuitry. He sits and he tries to be patient, gritting his teeth through when the pain is clawing, and tries to remember what he's aiming for.

It's always easier when you're holding his hand.

During the time he grows somewhat used to the more constant presence of the others.

Zayne seems to fall back into old habits, of taking care of his childhood friends, though you often now sit him down to make him tea, instead. It doesn't stop him asking questions, 'Are you alright', 'where does it hurt most', 'do you need anything?'. The guilt at how he'd reacted to Zayne on their reunion bites at him most when he sees real warm concern in the man's eyes.

He's been offered snacks by Xavier, while he sits through tests. While it had never crossed his mind to question the safety of them, it was odd being offered the kindness. He isn't sure when he last was.

Rafayel mostly pokes his head in to snipe at Sylus as he works, and occasionally comments on Caleb's 'really bad poker face', as he tries not to respond to the taunt. He always comes with some water though, shoving the glass into Caleb's available hand, and then leaving.

Sylus' idea of comfort is singing while he works, and Caleb often wants to remind the man that doesn't comfort anyone but himself. You sometimes join in though, and he bites back the retort. It's not that out of tune, anyway.

He finds himself face to face with a lot of things, he doesn't feel he has the capacity to process in these moments. Pushing them down to deal with when the agony isn't great, and he's tired after long days.

On the day they finally finish, he feels as though he wants to sleep for weeks afterwards. He's drained and worn and though the tests and the refittings had been nothing as bad as under EVER's hand, it is tiring nonetheless to be changed.

Despite himself, however, he is glad for the careful hands. Though he would never admit this too loud to them.

When Xavier and Sylus step back, putting tools down and do one last check over with the screen next to them. You sit nearby, your leg shaking up and down as you wait, none too patiently.

He's seen you like this before, excited, nervous and stressed. Waiting and waiting and waiting. All the energy built up, ready to be released.

He can't say he doesn't feel the same.

"Ready?"

He nods, but he cannot make himself speak. He's waiting for this moment for too long. When the electronic voice rings out with 'rebooting', he doesn't feel anything. No change, no adjustment, his arm doesn't feel any different.

There's a drop in his stomach, like he's waiting for the realisation that it's failed, that nothing can help, that he'll never feel like anything but a robotic tool for EVER again-

Then there's warmth, as a hand slides into his, squeezing.

His heart jumps, and his throat becomes impossibly tight. Eyes moving to where your hand is inside of his. He can feel the pressure, and as he goes to squeeze, he has to remind himself to be careful, because you're flesh and blood. Warm skin, soft and real against his metal.

You're familiar and you're warm and you're there.

And he can feel you. The weight and the reality.

You wrap your metal arm around him to pull him closer and he cannot release your hand no matter what, because he finally, finally, finally, feels you. Careful cool fingers wipe the tears spilling from his eyes, as you hold him, smiling against his cheek as you pull him as close as you can, as he hiccups.

When he finally releases your hand, it's only so he can run his fingers over every part of you, letting you adjust yourself onto his lap, so that he can run fingers through your hair, over your cheek, your nose, across your lips. When you part them, to exhale, the gust against his hand makes his shoulders jump.

So he places his hand around the back of your neck, and kisses you. Salted tears and gasping desperation, as he traverses metal over the column of your throat, absent through the air he's stealing out of your lungs. Over your arms, that steady yourself around him, over your ribs, feeling every dip and every roll, he squeezes at your thighs to feel the weight in his hands, and gasps. Pulling away only because he needs to, as he rests his forehead on your shoulder.

You run fingers through the back of his hair, over his neck, as he tries to stop shaking. To stop shuddering at all the feeling of you in his arm, your skin against his hand. It's overwhelming and too much, and everything, but never enough. Like his brain could short circuit and he'd die in bliss.

Like he finally found everything he wanted again.

Like he feels whole.

He's acutely aware for the audience, as he sits overwhelmed on the table, so wrapped around you, he doesn't want to ever be two separate people again, and this time when he looks at his metal arm. Where his hand rests on your skin, where he can feel you alive and under his touch, where he sees the flesh give under his grip and can feel it once more.

Maybe he understands why you love to have yours painted.

Maybe he thinks about how he'll let Rafayel paint his own, if he wants.

Maybe he chokes out a thank you to the people he isn't sure he hates anymore.

Maybe you've led him back home once more.

[incorrectvtuberquotes]

Ina: How is tin's melting point only 230°C/450°F? That's the temperature I roast Brussels sprouts!

Kaela: Information acquired: you can solder your Brussels sprouts to the baking sheet.

Risu: Yeah, now you can add a delicious tin glaze!

Ina: This doesn't sound like a good recipe...