#Ceramic Plate Magnets

[mpcomagnetics]

What are Suspended Plate Magnets

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

[a-spectacular-pigeon]

Many many many thanks to @claypigeonpottery for my beautiful new mug. Genuinely the thing I've been most excited about for a couple of months now

[claypigeonpottery]

thanks everyone for all the bunny votes and suggestions! I ended up doing a bit of everything (and speed drying my bunnies because mania)

the moon and starry sky bunnies won the poll

black with skeletons was 2nd (plus a sad bunny just because)

a couple people suggested Watership Down El-Ahrairah bunnies

I got a suggestion for trans bunnies (the grey will lighten to white once the clay is dry)

for black and tan bunnies

for a white bunny with blue eyes and a pink bunny

and delft bunnies! these ones were time consuming lol

and some delft pigeons too! these turned out nicer than the bunnies, more space to work

[twirlingsmilingwriting]

Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader

"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"

Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.

We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.

In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.

That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.

We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.

It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.

These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.

The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.

"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.

"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,

"Tolerable"

~

PART TWO PART THREE

[thelov3lybookworm]

Gone Through Enough (part 1)

Day 1: Bargains

Summary: she was not here for him

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1456

A/n: eeeeeeeeee im so excited for @erisweekofficial 🥹🥳🥳🥳

this is the part one of this series, soooo

✨ENJOYYY ❣️✨

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Spoons scraped at expensive ceramic plates. Exotic, fragrant dishes covered every inch of her plate, but no matter how much her stomach clenched, begging for food, Y/n could not bring herself to truly eat.

Quiet, mindless chatter surrounded Y/n as she tried her best to not glower back at the fireheaded heir across from her. As each moment passed, it became harder to ignore the heat of his gaze on her.

"You know, I think Lord Greengrass is very handsome. He also has quite a large group of soldiers with him. Do you think he’s one of the richer ones?" 

Her gaze drifted, and Y/n nodded absently, already forgetting the question she was asked. Y/n wasn’t even listening, really, to her sister who rambled on about the latest lord that caught her fancy.

Steam wafted from the roasted hunt the lords and soldiers had brought back that evening set at the centre of the long mahogany table. As if drawn by some magnetic force, her eyes met his hard, liquor coloured ones.

"Y/n? Are you listening?"

Y/n blinked, nodding as she turned her gaze back to her sister.

But she could not shake the feeling that he still stared at her.

The high lord stood then, drawing the gaze of all the nobility.

He began speaking, his words bouncing off of the high ceilings, amplified by his magic. It enraptured everyone. Or at least people who wanted to be in the high lord’s good graces listened.

Not Y/n though. She was here for a purpose, and so were her parents.

Soon enough, the orchestra started playing again, and people who did not want to dance gathered around the ballroom floor, watching and chatting. Y/n made her way through them, catching snippets of conversations and then forgetting them the next moment till she found her parents swaying in the corner, whispering in each other’s ears.

She adored times like these, because it showed her how in love they were.

She moved closer, but before she could say anything to them, she was yanked to a stop by a rough hand.

She turned to glare at the person, only to have her blood run cold.

The high lord.

"Your highness."

She hastily dropped into a curtsy, her eyes lowered in deference. He simply grunted in answer, letting the space between them become awkward before speaking.

"Your father was telling me you are a great dancer."

She stilled, lifting her eyes to meet the cruel, cold ones of Beron.

"Yes, your highness."

He grabbed her hand then. "Dance with me."

It sounded only slightly like a question, but Y/n knew it was an order. She followed him to the dance floor, her gaze shifting to the encouraging grey of her father.

He nodded, pulling Y/n’s mother closer.

It confused the young lady. They had not discussed it with her before, so why were they acting like this was the plan all along?

Nevertheless, as the music started up again, Y/n let herself go, her conscious only focused on going through the steps of her dance instead of the way the high lord’s hand sat too close to her hip, the way he stared at her like he wanted to devour her, like he wanted to keep her forever.

Not as a companion, but a trophy.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

As soon as the last few notes of the violin faded into the thick air, Y/n stepped away from the high lord, whose gaze burned into Y/n’s skin. She bent at the waist, her leg sweeping behind in a deep curtsy before she fled, unable to breathe in the stuffy ballroom a minute longer.

She ran. Ran like she was a bunny trying to outrun a wolf under the curtain of looming trees. Outside, through the beautifully constructed windows, she could see a blanket of stars twinkling over the cover of night, the smell of oak and maple mixing with the scent of fire and sweet honey. The pleasantness of outside invited happy insects that buzzed and sang between the tall grass that led to the forest, the atmosphere so serene but so at odds with the turmoil inside Y/n.

She ran up flights of stairs, flew past startled lower fae trying to hide before she could see them. But she paid them no heed as she hurtled towards the sculpted wooden door she was sure was assigned to her family when they had arrived just a few hours after dawn.

Hurrying to the bath chamber, she bent over the bowl in the corner, hurling up her guts without a care for how inappropriate it would have looked when she ran away from the high lord.

She did not care as she removed her dress, shoving and shimmying out of the offending material as she turned, staring at herself in the mirror.

She looked like she had been through hell, and that was putting it nicely as she regarded her unruly hair, her blotched face and the thin slip she stood in, panting.

She continued staring for a moment before she grabbed the closest jug of magically warmed water and doused her body in it, uncaring that she was not standing in the bathtub.

The water flowed in rivulets down her body as she set the jug aside, only then taking a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

As she took a step away and gathered her gown in her arms, disgusted even by its sight, the door to the chambers clicked open.

She froze, eyes wide.

The festivities were nowhere near finished, and Y/n hoped it was her mother, because now that she took a better look at the bathing chamber, she realised one thing.

This was not the chamber assigned to the Augustenburgs, and Y/n was fucked.

She remained still, hoping whoever it was would leave, or-

The door opened, revealing the scowling heir apparent.

Bastard.

Y/n huffed at his unwavering glare, deciding to sidestep him into the room, still dripping water from her unbound hair.

His hand wrapped around her forearm before she could go far, pushing her into the nearest wall, the impact barely knocking the breath out of her despite the hatred burning his gaze.

"Why are you here?"

It was a mumbled question, directly fanning over Y/n’s ear.

She refused to move to accommodate him.

Instead, she turned her head closer to his, whispering the answer over the skin of his neck.

"You should ask yourself that."

To others, it would have seemed like he was asking why she was in his chambers.

He wasn’t.

"Why? You’ve got nothing to say?"

She glared at the wall opposite, wondering if she should even dignify him with an answer.

He pulled away a little, his eyes burning into her, and she sneered at him. "You know why we’re here-"

His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he glanced at the door.

And then, he buried his face in her neck, placing kisses down the column of skin till her shoulders. It shocked her so much that she stilled, trying to understand what he was trying to do, but before she could eventually push him away, the door creaked open.

Eris lifted his head, turning to their visitor as he shoved Y/n’s head into his shoulder.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to see where you had run off to. Looks like you’ve got yourself a whore."

Y/n could hear the smirk in the male’s voice. It riled her up, and she was just about to lift her head to give him a piece of her mind when Eris snarled, and then the door slammed shut.

Eris’s grip left Y/n’s hair and he stepped back, his chest heaving. His head hung low, eyes stuck on the floor. He stayed there for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts, then he began unbuttoning his jacket, shoving it into Y/n’s hands.

"Get out."

He choked out, his voice strangely strangled. Y/n quickly pulled the jacket over her, the fact that she was in an almost see through slip registering in the back of her mind. But she could not bring herself to care as she gathered the heavy ball gown in her arms, making a run for her room before another one of Eris’s brothers decided to come check up on the heir apparent.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Eris’s pov.

She wasn’t back for him.

She wasn’t.

She was only here because he could offer her family a bargain.

She probably didn’t even want to be here, but her parents had dragged her back.

She was here only for that bargain.

Not him.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[vanseerra]

The Dress - An Elucien Multi-Fic by @00oxox

Chapter 2 - T Rating - 3.6k Words

Both Elain and Lucien are plagued by their stolen moment weeks before at the townhouse. When an invite comes to him to join the Inner Circle for an evening meal, Lucien decides there is no better opportunity to finally confront the situation outright. That is, if nothing else comes in the way.

Chapter 1 found here | Ao3 Version

Elain

How hard was it to cut a stupid apple? Elain huffed, straightening her fingers out before repositioning them on the freshly-plucked yet, temperamental fruit. She curled her nails to lightly pierce the skin, cautiously slide the kitchen knife to perforate it and-

The apple rolled off the side of the cutting board.

“That’s it!” She cried, storming around the quaintly sized kitchen to a ceramic fruit bowl and snatching an orange instead.

“Something on your mind?”

Usually the homely tone of her younger sister was a warm welcome to Elain but today her presence only flustered her more. Avoiding her questioning gaze, she pierced the oranges skin, sliding it from its surface.

“Nothing interesting..”

“Really? Nothing at all?”

It was in that moment that she was entirely resentful for the mischievous effect Rhysand had had on her sister; these days she was more prone to prying and prodding. She knew the way the conversation was headed the second Feyre had opened her mouth and was decisive to deter it.

“If you must know, I’m wondering about what to make us all for dinner this evening. I know we have guests and so…”

At the mention of guests, Feyre’s mouth quipped into a small, knowing smirk. She crossed the distance of the kitchen, moving to pick up the abandoned knife and finish what Elain had tried to start. Gracefully, her blade cleanly sliced the apple, cutting it into neat sections that stacked against each other.

“Only Lucien will be here, although I’m sure he’d happily eat more than one serving if you were to make it.” She teased.

His name struck a chord within her. Colour tinted her cheeks in a rosy blush and her fists curled firmly at her sides. Her lips parted to speak but her mind was scrambling for words. Keep it together Elain. If just his name alone was enough to have her trembling like this, what would she do when he was actually there in the flesh- those piercing eyes tracking her from across the room.

She would feign sickness, she decided. Would pretend that she had caught some type of bug from her recent outing into Velaris or that she had accidentally undercooked her lunch. But wouldn’t that just bring even more attention to her? The last thing she wanted was him standing outside her bedroom door, insistent on checking on her like she knew he would do. There really was no way around this.

Ever since that afternoon, the two of them alone in the town house where somehow, they had ended up with their lips passionately exploring each other’s, she could not get him out of her head. His pull was hard to ignore before that, especially in his presence, but now it was magnetic. If she allowed her mind to drift for a moment, her thoughts would find their way to him: to the way his firm hand had felt against her back and the surprising softness of his lips against hers. His face was forever etched into the corners of her mind.

“I’m sorry.” Feyre’s words were resentful as she made her way over to Elain, now frozen in place, and rested a comforting hand upon her forearm in apology.

“I went too far. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

When her sister didn’t initially respond, she went to speak again, sorrow filling her soft gaze, but was halted by Elains cautious voice.

“Will you tell me about it? About how it works?”

Little needed to be explained about what Elain was referring to; sometimes a sisters bond and understanding was clearer than words.

“Of course.”

The two of them sat upon the kitchen counters stools, the plate of finely sliced apples between them. In the window overlooking the garden, the sun had begun to set, the deep oranges flooding into the room as the two sisters spoke. They had been discussing the intricate details of the bond for the past hour, with Feyre going into deep descriptions of how the bond was formed, what it meant culturally to the fae and even the reprocussions of accepting or denying it. Elain apprehensively nibbled on the apple pieces as Feyre spoke to her, turning the influx of information over in her mind.

There was still so much to ask. No matter how many questions she put forth to her sister, seeking concrete answers, only more seemed to bubble to the surface. The one thing that has been abundantly clear to her, however, was that she was under no obligation to accept the bond. She now knew the significance of it and how important it was to the fae, more so than she had when it had first reared its head. Throughout, Feyre had been on Luciens defence. The male was kind, patient and loyal. He would not pursue her. Despite the weight of the bond and its apparent importance, he had respected Elain to a degree she had not realised.

It made a lot of sense to her. The way he positioned himself on the opposite side of the room to her, the way he often avoided her gaze, the tension and restraint he had shown her before that had happened in the very room next to where she and her sister were now sitting. On that day, she had seen firsthand just how hard the male was trying to hold himself back- his hands had practically shaken as he helped her with her dress. And when that tension had finally broken…

“Does the bond make up feelings?”

Feyre cocked her head as she considered the female's question. She thought for a long second, weighing the significance before speaking carefully.

“The bond isn’t… It creates a pull. It draws two people together but it doesn't,” she waved her hands around in space to demonstrate what she meant,

“It doesn't make you fall for someone.” She finished.

Elains heart skipped in her chest. Could it be true? That this whole time she had assumed the crush she’d formed had been manufactured: that the ache in her chest and warm feelings that bubbled at the sound of his voice had been a result of just the bond. If what Feyre was saying was correct…

“There are definitely fae that meet the other half of their bonds and realise it isn’t meant to be. Admittedly it isn’t very common but the bond can make mistakes.”

The older of the two could not feign the look of confusion that painted her expression. She immediately had a dozen more questions spring into her mind but the thought of hearing anymore made her chest ache and her head dizzy. She turned to her sister.

“I… if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for dinner.”

The knot in her throat tightened as she spoke and rose to turn on the faucet, her back turned to Feyre. Thankfully, Feyre rose slowly and made her way to the door, before providing a comforting word.

“I know it’s… a lot of information, Elain. These things are… complicated. Take your time with it. You know where I am.”

And with that, with the gentle rustle of her long skirt, she left the room.

Alone with only the company of the setting sun, now casting rays of deep amber onto the counters, Elain mindlessly began preparing a meal for dinner. Nuala and Cerridwen had offered to assist her but she had politely turned them down, claiming that she had a headache and wanted to work alone. With her hands aimlessly kneading a batch of fresh dough, she allowed her thoughts to drift to the conversation she’d just had.

The mating bond was important, but it wasn’t. The mating bond was fate, but it could be wrong. The mating bond could be accepted, but it could be rejected. The mating bond did not manufacture feelings. That thought alone had her pausing, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead and accidentally spreading flour along her brow. She mumbled a small curse.

Just what was she supposed to do now? She had made wrongful assumptions this whole time and cast Lucien as some sort of imposing force on her will and nature. She had purposefully avoided him until she could no longer bear it and blamed their moment of passion upon a falsity. Guilt swelled in her stomach. There was no way she could confront the male now; approach him like some lovesick girl and confess her blossoming feelings, flowers in hand. A cringe ran through her. She had been that girl once and look where it had led her. Alone, single and the only unwed Archeron sister.

“The night court certainly has some strange ideas on fashion.”

His voice, deep and honeyed, hit her like a ton of bricks. Warmth pooled in her chest, spilling to grip her ribs as she tightened her hold on the roller. It had been a mistake to look up from the food- meeting his stare sent a sharp shock down her spine and her eyes could not slip away. She quickly grasped for the cause of his taunt and upon realising, aggressively wiped the loose flour dotting her forehead. With a deep breath she spoke.

“Are you always that rude to your hosts?” Surprisingly, she snapped, the words like venom leaving her before she could comprehend them. He seemed startled by her response, his body going still and eyebrows raising slightly at her sharpness.

“Apologies, lady, I meant no harm.” He raised his hands in solemn surrender.

Lucien

It had been Feyre’s idea to host him at the townhouse that evening. That is what he told himself over and over again in the mirror as he looked over his outfit choice. He had opted for somewhat formal attire, sporting his usual autumn court styled colours, and had braided his long hair back in an intricate plait. As he brushed down the length of his fitted jacket, he turned the event over in his mind, ruminating on how his presence would be perceived by the one person he had been unable to stop thinking about. Would she be pleased to see him? Or would his company only impose on her and force her into pleasantries in front of her family?

Lucien had not seen the female since their intimate and entirely unanticipated moment a few weeks before. At the time, he was lost to the moment, absorbed in his encompassing feelings and the pull of the bond. But now, upon reflection, he realised he still had no idea about where the two of them stood. They hadn’t had a chance to communicate when they were brashly interrupted by a booming drunk Cassian and not a single letter had graced his door since either.

Starting to unwind the threads of their situation exhausted him. Their relationship, or lack or one, had been a source of many conflicting feelings for him over the time their bond had snapped. He knew deeply and with full truth that he yearned for her: for her presence, her companionship, for the chance to flourish and grow alongside her. What she thought of him, however, was completely lost to him.

He straightened with a sudden sense of resolve. This was the perfect opportunity. When else would he get the chance to express all of these confusing thoughts to her without feeling as if he was imposing himself by his own invitation? Feyre had wanted him there and he had no cause to believe Elain had denied the idea. He would approach her before the meal to clear the air before they set a heavy and uncertain tone upon the evening.

~

Standing there before her, Lucien ate his words.

She was captivatingly beautiful. He had walked into the kitchen with such purpose and had utterly stilled at the sight of her. He had no doubt that she was wearing only the most complimenting and felicitous gown but what really drew his eyes was the pure beauty of her face. Her soft eyes were warm and doe-like, her round lips were plump and redded with a subtle tint and her hair… its delicate waves bounced down her back, pinned to the side with a graceful pearl clip. Even the concentration of her face as she kneaded the bundle of dough was stunning. Her drawn brows then brought his attention to the scatter of flour across her forehead, snapping him out of his trance.

Elains curt reaction to his tease had him frozen to the spot. He hadn’t expected her to be so cold to his light quip: such a contrast to the mood of their last conversation. Despite her snappiness, however, he could detect a different feeling from her, one that was warm and alive and curious.

“Sorry.” Her sudden response had his attention back on her in an instance,

“I didn’t mean it. I’m not… myself today,” she admitted with a trace of guilt.

Was she hurt? His heart sped at the thought, a hint of anxiety flooding him as he scanned for the possible cause. Eyes trailing across her body, he quickly sought for any signs of injury and pain and thankfully saw nothing: no cuts or wounds or bandages. Perhaps it was an illness?

“Are you unwell?”

“No… I don’t actually know.” There was so much uncertainty to her tone. It was a struggle to figure out exactly what she was feeling and how he could help. He hated how worthless it made him feel- to see his mate in such discomfort and to not have a solution. He supposed there was something he could do.

“Would you like some help? With the cooking?” He quipped his head to the scatter of unfinished food before her.

“No, that would be improper, you’re our guest.”

“I insist.”

At that, he unfastened his jacket and slid it off his shoulders, draping it carefully over a stool before rolling up his sleeves to above his elbows. He didn’t fail to notice the way her delicate eyes trailed every movement, the round her lips parting as if she were to say something. When nothing emerged from them, he rinsed his hands in the sink and picked up some spring onions to chop. Elain only gave him a tight smile and went back to her kneading, a light wash of pink now tainting her cheeks.

The two of them worked tirelessly: Lucien preparing the large array of vegetables with Elain focusing on the dough. Throughout, neither said a single word and a slight air of awkwardness had begun to settle in the room. It was the very thing he had been wanting to avoid. Still, he continued to work, dancing around Elain as he reached for things beyond her and grabbed seasoning and spices from the cupboards.

“This is so awkward...” Somehow, the hushed words that escaped her caught him off guard at their poignant honesty. He stared at her for a brief moment before throwing his head back in laughter and caught the wary grin that flashed over her face in response. She never failed to surprise him.

“I dare to say, lady, that you may be the one making it that way.” He teased, lifting a brow.

“Excuse you?” Her hands went onto her hips in mock annoyance. “You are the one not saying anything to me!”

“Are you not guilty also? Seems rather cruel of you to pin it on me when you are committing the same offence.” He teased and she scoffed at the retort.

“Plus,” he added, ��you are my host are you not? Shouldn’t you be entertaining me?”

“Oh so I’m boring now.”

“Those are your words and not mine.”

“Perhaps if I’m so boring, you should find a more exciting woman to seduce.”

Seduce. The word struck him like a bolt of lightning, his blood igniting and mouth going dry. One word, and the pulse of his heart was an unrelenting drum, echoing around his body in a violent plea. More. He tightened his jaw into a firm clench, refusing to lift his gaze to her in fear of what truth may be unveiled in that expression of hers. When he said nothing, she quickly piped up, the notes of her tone nervous and regretful.

“By that I mean…”

“I’m seducing you?” His response was deep yet taut, carefully rolling off his tongue. Finally, his eyes rose to meet hers, his mechanical one focusing and unfocusing on the startled female before him.

Elain

The shift in Luciens manor could only be described as transfixing. As he spoke, his words a low grumble that sent a wave of heat through her, she felt the bond pluck with anticipation. Her bright eyes widened and hands stilled at their task, willing to take in every small action he made. She noted the shift in his eyes: how they had darkened and narrowed in on her, seemingly absorbing and devouring her entirely.

“I…”

Without much warning, he moved, approaching her with slow intent and carefully backed her against the counter. He did not touch her but instead braced her body, his hands gripping the wood at either side of her. This close, she had to raise her chin to meet his stare, his large frame suddenly that much more imposing. Not that she minded- her heart rang and rang at the intimacy of the action.

“If you think standing silently in a room is me seducing you Elain,” he leant close to her, his cheek grazing hers and mumbled into her ear,

“I wonder just how flustered you’d get at an actual attempt.”

She could not restrain from the gentle whimper that escaped her lips, nor the shakiness of her palms as they gripped the counter behind her tightly. In response, he gave a soft hum of his own, pulling back from her to take in the drunken expression in her eyes. It was near impossible to meet his stare: so intense that his pupils seemed doused in flames. She knew, though, she needed to retort, to match that fiery conviction.

Willing her speech until a low, alluring timbre, she glanced at him under her lashes with a sense of challenge.

“Do it.” She purred. “Make me so flushed I beg you to continue.”

Lucien growled, gritting his teeth with pure restraint. The grip at the table behind them intensified as he visibly held himself back from acting upon her wishes. If the look in his eyes was fiery before, they were now alight with raging need.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” Every word was clamped, fighting its way past his tight lips. Seeing him like this, at the edge of letting himself give in to all his base desires, had her blood heating and willing her limbs to act on her own screaming wishes.

She was just about to abandon all restrictions when the shifting of a door handle snapped them both apart from each other, like repelled magnets. Lucien cleared away from her, spinning to look busy at the sink behind him. Elain was a lot less successful, turning to face the opening door with both hands frozen mid-air and a haunted expression upon her face. The drill of her heart rattled with no sign of ending as the person made themselves completely aware.

Mor strolled absentmindedly into the room, taking a bite from the ruby red apple in her hand. Her eyes roamed the scene before her: of the stiffened fright of Elains expression, of the turned, suspicious back of Lucien as he ran water randomly over his palms. Following from the small tug of a smirk, she exploded into a sly laugh.

“Just what is going on in here.” She joked. “I feel like I missed something interesting!”

“It’s.. I…” Elain had forgotten how to speak, her mouth was dry and her tone was completely unnatural. Mor noticed her nerves and quickly began moving again to the adjacent door.

“Don’t stop on my accord!” And then she was gone.

At the small slam of the closing door, both Elain and Lucien tipped their heads back and laughed: gleefully and with a sense of roguishness. They caught each other’s gazes and when Elain bit her lip in a mock sense of guilt, they laughed even harder.

“I don’t know about you, but I feel utterly scandalised!” His words were laced with that hearty joy as he made his way over to her.

The ease of their laughter came as a stark shock to her. How simple it was to be by his side and to joke with each other as if they had been close for years. It was so natural and in a way she didn’t know how to admit, even to herself, felt like home. She didn’t linger on the thought for too long, however, wanting to enjoy the comforting buzz teasing with him brought upon herself. How she wished it would never end.

“Is this our fate now? To be graced by a new presence every time we flirt?” She giggled, trailing her eyes slowly upwards as he came closer. The honey rich scent of him was impossible to ignore at such a distance.

“It is our curse…” he grumbled before clearing his throat and standing taller, a look of sudden determination passing over him. He opened his mouth once then twice before finally speaking again.

“Let’s break it and meet away from here.”

“Away from here?”

“Yes. Come to mine for dinner… I’ve been known to be a good host. One that doesn’t stand around awkwardly in kitchens, at least.”

She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and raising a brow. A small trace of a sly grin pulled at her lips.

“If you’re trying to ask me on a date, you’re not doing a good job of it.”

Lucien mirrored her, raising his own brow.

“Oh so it’s a date now?”

A/N: I originally never ended ‘The Dress’ to be a Multi-Fic but the opportunity to explore Eluciens awkward and budding relationship was too good to pass up. I imagine there will be one final chapter after this one where some more concrete truths shall be revealed. Thanks for all the support so far!

I also now have an Ao3 which you can find under the same name :)

[triptychofvoids]

What should I do if I happened to swallow on 34 ceramic plates ???? 😁😁😁😁😁

(I didn't it's just a scenario but let's say I actually did, I wouldn't because they taste a bit too chalky but I like the flavour and yes I may have just swallowed 34 ceramic plates but it it it wasn't my fault i swear they just looked nice, I wouldn't actually eat 34 ceramic plates it's just a scenario buts let's say I actually did,)

this is just like the magnets all over again.. well i can only assume that its going to shred your digestive system and be very very unpleasant for you

[marcusrobertobaq]

What would a selector be?

There are 3 things that seem to be damaged:

The plating;

Disconnected cables;

Something that's leaking thirium;

Plating ain't considered a biocomponent (ugh I hate this "bio" name). So no.

The android were in shutdown probably cuz of the disconnected cable (safety measure), and looking where it is seems kinda close to the regulator. But also there's something damaged leaking thirium (#6970) causing everything to shutdown again cuz the levels are too low.

So is this selector #5402 a cable? Never heard about something like that in hardware. Also is kinda...weird and dangerous a cable connected by magnetic stuff?

Another weird thing about this cable is it seems to be a thirium cable but at the same time it doesn't. It's disconnected, so ain't got thirium leaking there probably cuz it stopped right where the blue is (safety measure), but got energy enough to boot an android instantly when connected back.

(Bonus: nails ain't made of ceramic material, unless this plastic plating they have is ceramic xD well I thought was carbon)

I still don't know if this is a selector or not.

[thecollectionsof]

the calm of a cafe at night

okay so i'm a fool and i started writing before the poll was done so! there will be two cafe fics, and here's the first :) this one is out like a light by the honeysticks <3 and jankie won! so it's jankie!!

Night at the cafe always felt warm and nice, but there’s something that feels so special about tonight. 

Jan closes three times a week, and she’s comforted by the familiarity, the way everything feels so normal. The lightbulb string lights bathe the cafe in a gentle warm light, and the world outside is dark. She can hear a quiet pitter-patter of rain over the instrumental music she’s been playing since it started, the gentle tap-tap-tapping against the window shrinking the world to fit inside the four walls of the cafe. 

She gets out the mop, coming from around the side of the counter to begin mopping the floor, taking in the quiet music and gentle ambiance of the ceramic cups hitting saucers and the clink of forks against plates as the last few customers enjoy the bakery items—a really pretty regular is sitting at the bar with a chocolate cupcake and a laptop open, writing in a notebook in messy, scrawling handwriting. Her name is Jackie, Jan’s mind supplies, and she comes in at 6pm each day Jan works, staying until Jan kindly ushers her out.

She wonders what she’s working on, but she’s never had the guts to ask. 

She tears her eyes away, but not for long. Coming around behind her as she mops, she can’t help but focus back on Jackie as she begins typing away at her laptop with a determined intensity. When she chances a glance, she sees a split screen of two wordy looking documents. Jan makes a face, feeling a pang of sympathy at the amount of dense reading she must have to get through.

It’s rude to stare. She looks down at the dark wood of the floor, her eyes tracing the grains of wood and the patterns she makes with the mop. She’s always liked the wood floor, the way it matches the wood of the booths near the back. The booths are comfortable and private and surrounded by the plants that she takes care of carefully, making sure they remain healthy and beautiful. She’s always wished she had someone to meet her in the booth, to someday be one of the couples quietly talking over the table, pushing a piece of chocolate cake between them and feeling like they’re the only two people in the world.

But that's not something she can make a reality, not yet. She's still single, still lonely, still just Jan.

She glances up at a couple in the corner booth, the one she always wishes she could claim for herself. The couple is sitting across the table from each other and they’re magnetized, leaning over the table to talk with a quiet intensity when they get excited about a story or conversation. They reach out to hold hands. She looks away, not wanting to invade their moment. 

It’s an hour until she closes, and she allows herself to relax and play the role of an NPC in these people’s lives.

The number of the people in the cafe dwindles more and more as time goes on—the couple is first, holding hands and leaning into each other so lovingly that it makes Jan feel fluttery at the thought that she could have that too, someday. Then it’s the regular who always chooses a little table against one of the walls, the one who always dresses in colorful patterns and bright button-ups. They almost trip over a chair that hadn’t been pushed in all the way on their way out, and they look back to shoot Jan an embarrassed smile, giggling at their own clumsiness. 

Jan giggles with them, waving as they turn around and leave the cafe, popping open a kaleidoscope-looking umbrella as before they leave the safety of the awning. She’s always liked Crystal.

The next one to leave is the nice old man who lives just up the road. Sometimes he tells her stories of his childhood, and other times he just sips on his herbal tea (always served extra hot, just the way he likes it. Nothing but the best for her best tipper.)

And then it’s just her, and Jackie, and fifteen more minutes until she will usher her out with quiet words and small, almost too intimate smiles. She can’t help it, not when the cafe seems like it was made for those moments, not when Jackie always looks surprised before her gaze becomes softer, thankful, warm. 

Jan likes watching Jackie’s face. Jackie focuses on her work too much to know she’s doing it, so she doesn’t worry too much about being caught when her eyes linger on the way Jackie’s glasses slip down her nose, or how her eyes scan the lines of messy handwriting in her notebook.

Something about today makes her want to keep Jackie here longer, so she fixes a cup of black tea, and then another cup for herself, prepared exactly like Jackie’s. The cups make a quiet clink when they hit the counter, and it pulls Jackie’s focus. She looks at the cup Jan pushes in front of her and then up at Jan, quietly curious. Jan can feel her face heating up at the attention, especially being so close as the only two in the cafe.

“I thought… well, you’ve been working here a while, and I thought you might want this. To keep you company.” Her voice is quiet, but it doesn’t have to be loud to fill the space between them. Jackie hears her, and she looks grateful. Something in her eyes as she looks at her before taking a sip takes her breath away. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” she dismisses, “but thank you. Would you care to join me?” Jackie closes her laptop fifteen minutes early, and it’s the first time Jan has ever seen her do that. She nods, and before she registers it she’s slipping onto the stool next to her. Jackie smells good. She can’t help but try to place the smell, it’s something warm and comforting in a way she can’t describe. “Are you a big tea drinker, too?”

“No.” The truth slips out, but her honesty is worth the way Jackie chuckles into her cup before taking another sip. “Coffee, mostly. But I’ve been curious, so I thought… hey, why not?” She gestures vaguely to the cup in front of her, but doesn’t pull her gaze away from Jackie.

Interestingly, Jackie’s keeping her gaze, too.

“And?” Jackie prompts. Jan takes a small sip, letting the flavor sit in her mouth for a second before swallowing it. 

“Still a coffee person, probably,” she says with a shrug. Once again, her honesty rewards her with a quiet laugh, and she tries to hide the way she preens at the sound. 

“I’ll have to make it for you sometime, then. See if that changes.” Jan can see the mischief in her eyes. She knows what she’s doing.

Jan scoffs playfully, putting a hand to her heart. “You’re telling a barista that she can’t make a good cup of tea?”

“I’m telling a barista,” Jackie starts, the corners of her mouth turning up as she teases her, “that I can make it better.”

“I would love for you to prove it, but customers aren’t allowed behind the bar.”

“Then we’ll do it somewhere else, if you want.” Jackie suggests, smooth voice betraying no nerves despite her slightly shaking hands. “You can come to mine? And show me how to make a fancy coffee that you like?”

“No,” she starts, and Jackie can’t quite hide her disappointment in time. She feels a pang of guilt, so she’s quick to add, “my place. I have all the fancy syrups.”

[onlineprintingdubai]

5 Reasons To Pick Up Personalized Gifts

5 Reasons to give personalized gifts In UAE

It's thoughtful: Personalized gifts go beyond other gifts because it shows how much thought a person has put into this gift. Your thoughtfulness will make your gift more precious and sweeter. 1) Personalized Golf Balls 2) Personalized T-shirts 3) Personalized Caps 4) Personalized Hoodies 5) Personalized Keychains 6) Personalized Universal Travel Adapter

Emotional: Personalized gifts encompass an emotion. You can add a little personal touch to a gift be it a shirt or any other product like you can engrave a message that is very meaningful or some best wishes. 1) Personalized Spotify-Acrylic Music Plaques 2) Personalized Fridge Magnets 3) Personalized Tote Bags 4) Personalized Canvas

Sentimental: The main attraction of personalized gifts are they go beyond just gifts. Your special made gift will become something the person treasures, reflected year after year. Personalized gifts make an extra attachment. 1) Personalized Bobbleheads 2) Personalized Mugs 3) Personalized Gift Sets 4) Personalized Photo Ceramic Plates

Creative: Personalized gifts are not only thoughtful, emotional or sentimental it is a creativity. You can make a gift personalized in so many great ways. Everyone is different, you can make a gift specifically in different ways. You can put a variety of Ideas to make the gift personalized such as engraved a sweet message, jokes, family photo etc. 1) Personalized Watches 2) Personalized Bobbleheads 3) Personalized Photo Frames 4) Personalized Puzzles

Original: Personalized gifts are original and single piece. Like engraving a photo of you and your friend on a coffee mug or a beautiful message that can be found very hard anywhere else in the world because this message is just your thoughts that you want to share with your friend and it is an original gift. 1) Personalized Notebooks 2) Personalized Pens 3) Personalized Bathrobes 4) Personalized Lighters

In this way, personalized gifts come with many benefits and when these gifts go to the people they will think how thoughtful and time you have chosen this particular gift for them. So they will definitely be worth your time. There are many stores in the UAE that offer personalization on branded gifts as well, Where you can get a personalized gift made according to your choice.

[mpcomagnetics]

Suspended Plate Magnet

Suspended Plate Magnet Features Lifetime Guarantee of Permanent Magnet Strength Less than 1% magnetic loss in 100 years Designed to fit your specific application 304 Stainless Steel construction standard Finest of Magnetic Materials used meeting IMA/MMPA standards Rare Earth pharmaceutical & food plate magnets available Benefits Save $$ by avoiding damage and downtime to expensive processing…

[geneticteacher123]

Magnetic Stirrer Hot Plate is a small instruments has flat surface with heating elements without flames and work on the basis of rotating electromagnetic filed with magnetic stirrer bar to get homogenous liquid mixture with stirring to perform chemical reactions by dissolving solute in solvent. Aluminum Surface hot plate provide better heat uniformity and have temperature from 300 to 400 degree Celsius, while Ceramic surface hot plate have temperature from 400 to 500 degree Celsius #geneticteacher

[elizashields]

Multi-position Hot Plate Magnetic Stirrer NMHS-700

Labnics Multi-position Hot Plate Magnetic Stirrer features a ceramic glass plate, reaching temperatures up to 450℃ (300℃ with E-sensor). It supports up to a 20L stirring capacity and offers a waterproof, anti-corrosive build, PID control, durable construction, and a USB-A interface.

[labmatescientificinc]

LCD Magnetic Hotplate Stirrer LMMHS-A100

Labmate LCD Magnetic Hotplate Stirrer offers precise heating and stirring for up to 20L with a corrosion-resistant ceramic plate. Features a 100-1500 rpm speed range, 340°C max temperature, easy monitoring, and 1-degree accuracy. Safety functions like overheating protection ensure secure use.

[rebeccaoberoi51]

LED Magnetic Hotplate Stirrer LMMHS-B101

Labmate LED Magnetic Hotplate Stirrer heats and stirs up to 10L with speeds from 0 to 1500 rpm. Its corrosion-resistant glass ceramic plate reaches up to 550°C, ensuring durability. An LED display allows easy monitoring, and IP21 protection with safety features makes it reliable and simple to clean.

[etimaterials-blog]

What are the applications for niobium products?

Niobium product is dominated by its use as additive to high strength low alloy steel and stainless steel for oil and gas pipelines, car and truck bodies, architectural requirements, tool steels, ships hulls, railroad tracks. However, there are many other applications for niobium metal and compounds.

Niobium product application & technical benefits Niobium oxide - Manufacture lithium niobate for surface acoustic wave filters - Camera lenses - Coating on glass for computer screens - Ceramic capacitors - High index of refraction - High dielectric constant - Increase light transmittance

Niobium carbide -Cutting tool compositions -High temperature deformation, controls grain growth

Niobium powder -Niobium capacitors for electronic circuits -High dielectric constant, stability of oxide dielectric

Niobium metal plates, sheets, wire, rod, tubing                                                       

- Sputtering targets - Cathode protection systems for large steel structures - Chemical processing equipment -Corrosion resistance, formation of oxide and nitride films. Increase in high temperature resistance and corrosion resistance, oxidation resistance, improved creep resistance, reduced erosion at high temperatures.

Niobium-titanium alloy Niobium-tin alloy Superconducting magnetic coils in magnetic resonance imagery (MRI), magnetoencephalography, magnetic levitation transport systems, particle physics experiments. Electrical resistance of alloy wire drops to virtually zero at or below temperature of liquid helium (-268.8°C).

Niobium-1% zirconium alloy - Sodium vapor lamps - Chemical processing equipment -Corrosion resistance, fixation of oxygen, resistance to embrittlement. -Vacuum-grade ferro-niobium and nickel-niobium -Superalloy additions for turbine blade applications in jet engines and land-based turbines.

Inconel family of alloys, superalloys. Increase in high temperature resistance and corrosion resistance, oxidation resistance, improved creep resistance, reduced erosion at high temperatures.

https://www.etimaterials.org/niobium/

https://www.edge-techind.com/Products/Refractory-Metals/Niobium/Niobium-Alloys/Niobium-Zirconium-Alloy-179-1.html