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[jewelryrich]

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[jeevanratna]

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[balijewelry]

Bali Jewelry: One of The Best Silver Jewelry Manufacturers

Jewelry is one of the most popular consumer products, which appeals to both men and women. Even if the jewelry can be expensive or awful if purchased online, some stores sell it at affordable prices.

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[yebreed]

Cloudy Wine Table of The Spring and Autumn Period

Another attribute of the antique bar: a bronze wine table Jin (禁).

The name of this piece of furniture involves social advertising.  Jin means “forbidden”. The name is aimed at potential consumers, encouraging them to be moderate in drinking.

It was believed that the Shang and Xia dynasties fell into decline due to alcohol abuse. The term itself has been in use since the Zhou Dynasty, when the first Dry Law was proclaimed. Wine was allowed only in rituals, in other cases, drinking it entailed the death penalty. For the same reason, it could be assumed that the table also had a religious purpose.

The wine table belonged to the Grand Chancellor Zi Geng during the reign of King Kang of Chu (楚康王).

It was manufactured with a lost-wax casting, a technology that is more often used in jewelry. The wine table rests on twelve dragons that serve as its legs. Twelve more surround it, trying to climb onto the tabletop from all sides.

Sophisticated clouds are not just for decoration. It is an allegory of the primordial forces, accumulated between Heaven and Earth, in action. The very pictograph for Qi, invented just in the Spring and Autumn period, refers to the clouds.

Finely crafted, the table was unearthed in fragments. It was a feat on the part of the restorers to bring it together. Rebuilding under the guidance of the bronze ware expert Wang Changqing took more than two years.

On display in Henan Museum (河南博物院).

[2minutesnotice]

do you think the others ever treat blitz like a sugar baby? cause, while he has a successful business, he is the poorest of the four. two of them are literal hell royalty and fizz is one of the most famous people in hell.

i just like imagining them showering blitz in gifts and being silent partners in his business so he doesnt have to worry about going under if he doesnt get enough clients one week

Just so you know, I'll go just with my headcanon Polycule and kiiiinda ignore canon here, if that's okay?

I'm still trying to stay in character as possible but there's some stuff I'm still trying to figure out, without ignoring their own character traits.

For your question:

Private Blitzø appreciates gifts, as long as they're mindfully chosen. He's not into expensive stuff, he has no need for expensive clothes or jewelry, he's fine with his last generations phone, he loves to chose his weapons himself.

But he definitely loves the little gifts, horse merch, a new blanket from Stolas, a date night in which he doesn't need to pay (and sometimes he does and they let him).

I think he would be really pissed when it was obvious that they would gift him things just because he's not in wealth. Like, when Stolas's tried to buy him clothes for an fancy event they attended to (and it was nerve wracking anyway since it was one of the events in which they showed up together, like officially announced and Stolas was all over him the whole time, nervous energy spreading) he got really angry at some point, since it felt like a weird degrading dress up game for him.

Or Fizz gifting him expensive tech, like, he doesn't need a damn watch that talks to him, thank you very much.

BUT Ozzie is smarter lol

Ozzie involves Blitzø into things. He shows him fancy cooking and Blitzø is so damn well good with a knife, cutting those onions without shedding a single tear, and that pan which they use has a special knack to it and nothing sticks on it and oh, these plates are nice, thanks, they're from a manufacturer handmade from Sloth.

So he gifts him these thing, like, a fancy cutting knife for cooking, to prepare dinner faster. Nice looking tableware, in Blitzøs favorite color because he liked them so much and now he can prepare fancy dinners for them on fancy plates.

He involves Blitzø into HIS business and the man is all over the pleasure bringing things, why not gift him those, he had his fingers in them anyway.

If they think Blitzø is absolutely wrecked tired from doing mission after mission and keeping a relationship with 3 people, Ozzie will tell him how good he is and that his business is thriving and gifts ALL of IMP a day spa gift card. That he owns that Spa is a secret lol

So, Blitzø is good with gifts but they know he has boundaries and even if it is hard to accept these sometimes, they really try to not make him uncomfortable. Also, he loves gifts that involve all of them, LuLu Land tickets, coffee dates, sex toys, vacations (he pays his share of the expenses but who would say no to free drinks). He just does not like to feel like he's using all of them for their money.

(And that's something that hits hard, since Stella constantly is on their back screeching that into the crowd. Also tabloids and newspapers rip their relationship apart, since Blitzø moved into the palace, calling him a Homewrecker and that his status is definitely not good enough for a prince, that he's a moneychaser. That does something to people..)

Business Blitzø will talk business.

IMP is good, they're making money and some of that really gets into their pockets. They can buy better guns, better ammo.

It's not as chaotic as it was at the beginning, since they now can use the damn Crystal (yeah it exists, yeah there was a sad hiccup in Stolitz relationship. They worked it out..kinda) and Ozzie is way better at keeping that a secret then Stolas was, with letting Blitzø handling the book.

(I'm still waiting for that court episode since I think the use of the book will be addressed there and they will be in deep shit lol)

Since I headcanon that Blitzø is half Succubus (or Incubi, since he's a male), Ozzie has that card ready when someone asks.

They also have human disguises now (and yes, Stolas fucked him human, he really wanted to try lol), which makes dealing with the human world way easier.

And when it comes to his business, Blitzø allows his partners a little bit of help, but mostly to keep things smoothly. Obviously Ozzie did his biggest part by giving him a Crystal, but sometimes Stolas does some long overdue Paperwork ("You have to do your taxes, darling! You're throwing away money" "Of course Hell would have taxes, it's literally Hell!") , Fizz looking over their schedule ("You should keep up with the timezones, Idiot. Look, if you do your killing in France and then go to Japan, there will be daylight in Japan and it's way easier of you do that at night, I'll keep an eye on that!") and trying to keep his boyfriend alive lol

But no, no partnership with anyone. IMP is Blitzøs work, his pride. He's good at what he's doing there, he loves his employees, he's glad he has something to get up to every morning. There's his name and his name alone on that door.

He needs that and they accept that. It's that one step to a better picture of himself and his self worth. They even got him to hang a picture of them all into his office and his face isn't blacked out. Just a post it glued over it.

So, thank you for your question! As you can see I love to rant about these idiots lol

[yautjalover]

OML I DID NOT THINK YOU’D RESPOND, but another question of mine (if that's okay..)

What do you think yautjas like to dress like in their day to day life? Except wearing all that armor and camouflage during hunting and stuff…

I can’t tell if they would be wearing the armor CONSTANTLY, but, I do genuinely think they have outfits like- robes that resembled the ones in ancient Greece? LIKE IT BE A FANCY AHH ROBE but honestly I don’t know what else?? Would they wear jewelry… the only jewelry I’d think they wear, is the bones of their victims around their neck. OML WAIT IT’D BE A COOL BELT HONESTLY.

Ps I’m so sorry for asking a lot 😭, it’s my first time interacting with a fellow Yautja fanatic AFTER YEARS.

Hey, it is completely fine! My inbox is routinely empty, so I enjoy the interactions. <3 I'll be happy to respond since this I've been curating a big ass Pinterest board for this exact thing. Excuse my Autistic ass in advance. haha

When I think of what they'd wear, I draw a lot of inspiration and thought from traditional African and Indigenous fashion. I think of tube tops, wrappers (large pieces of cloth wrapped around the waist to make a skirt), and various styles of kilts and loincloths.

I picture them wearing loose, minimal clothing for ease of motion when they're not hunting out of practicality. Considering they originate from a warm and humid climate, their fashion would reflect this. Some may choose to wear their armor all the time, but I feel most would want something colorful and stylish that shows off their scarred skin.

As for jewelry, I like to think they make them out of the bones from fallen prey or little rocks collected on a hunt that would make great bands for their locs or beads for a necklace. I feel like they recycle a lot of things, so this makes the most sense to me. Sure, they likely manufacture accessories to go along with the natural stuff, but I don't think they have this problem of overconsumption like humans have.

Creating jewelry out of the bones of their prey would be the equivalent of showing off a fancy new pair of Jordans or Louis Vuittons. It's a product of their honor and capability as a hunter/huntress. I imagine there are some yautja adorned in a lot of bones.

There's likely that one guy who you can hear a mile away because his bone jewelry clunks together so loud. LOL

Anywho, that's my response. I hope that helps you out a bit. ^^

[eloise175]

Domestic Headcanon

The multiple languages of love:

Callisto at one point sat down and learned on a whim how to say ‘I love you’ in 20+ languages to express his undying love for Penelope better, because simply put, one language isn’t enough to explain what he feels for her. He’s also aware of the fact that his wife is able to understand what he’s saying most of the times because she speaks a handful of languages, and the adorable blush that dusts her cheeks never fails to make him smile.

Penelope will never get used to Callisto’s incessant love-bombing, and the actual lengths he’d go to express how much he loves her, it tugs at her heart strings in the best way possible. It’s an indescribable sensation, but if she were to word it out, Penelope would say that it’s like a bunch of butterflies swarmed her stomach, alike the feeling when he first kissed her.

Callisto also took it upon himself to learn about flower-language, and what each color and flower represents.

First and foremost, the red roses are never missing, he likes to think that Penelope will always associate their color with his eyes.

This stems from one time when she left him a neatly written note in his office for their anniversary, where at the end there was the mark of her lips in red lipstick, with a rose of the same shade attached to the paper; Callisto kissed the mark left by her lips without hesitation.

Carnations of deep color are also very present, because while it is true that love is the sentiment that burns the brightest of them all, Callisto cannot help but feel a deep sense of admiration every time his wife takes the lead as Empress.

She has the final say in things, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He couldn’t care less about what other people think of him, but Penelope’s opinion is the one that truly matters. He knows she’ll always tell him the truth, no matter what.

Orchids bring back memories of the earlier stages of their relationship, when Callisto would shower Penelope with an endless pile of expensive gifts after learning that she had a penchant for jewelry and such.

The fine silks of the dresses he’d gift her were imported from different countries and manufactured with the outmost care, befitting the woman of his heart. In the box, on top of the silks, there would be two orchids of a color similar to the one of her hair, their stems tied together by a white ribbon with golden threads sewn in.

Their presence standing for luxury and refinement as well as a beauty unlike any other.

Even after their union as a married couple, when Callisto commissions new garbs for his wife, two orchids that are meant to symbolize the two of them are left on top of the garments as a callback to those days.

Later on, the number of the flowers growing with every addition to their family, increasing by one for each little miracle that blesses their lives, bringing them into parenthood and its joys.

After a while, Penelope taught Callisto how to make flower-crowns, and now every occasion is good to make them for her. Penelope is somewhat jealous because he shouldn’t be allowed to be this good at making flower-crowns, not better than her that’s for sure.

However she cannot stay irked for too long because the way he places the carefully made crown on top of her head with that specific gaze, where it looks like he just fell in love all over again, melts away all the previously built up irritation.

Later on Callisto will start making flower-crowns for their children as well, and Penelope can feel her heart swell the longer she watches them, especially when their kids try to replicate said flower-crowns.

[caesarinsalata]

Before the next Part,

Here is an intermission set at the start of his rehab!

Fair warning, this is a longer read than the other parts, I think it's longer than the Prologue.

(Is Ed's shirt blinding enough for ya'll? 🤣)

Intermission

Rehab Progress

“Listen, Amestrian-”

“What does being an Amestrian have to do with anything? We’re all people here, and I have a name, you know. It's Pinako Rockbell, you nitwit.”

The Alchemist sighs. “Ms. Rockbell….I specialize in Healing Alchemy. He doesn't need your help.”

“It is not my intention to step on any toes; I'm just asking for some time with the boy to fit him with a prosthetic.”

She was given an inquisitive look. “Prosthetic?”

“Yes, I specialize in the manufacturing of metal prosthetics. It's a very popular business model back in Amestris due to the constant wars border-to-border.” Taking a puff from her pipe. “He's got to be healed enough for a fitting by now, isn't he?”

“Uh- yes? He’s not categorically ready to put pressure on it or do activity that rushes blood to the area.”

Pinako waved a hand at him and turned away, walking down the stairs. “No need to worry about that. Just have someone bring him to my shop for a fitting soon. He'll be of more use to you with a functioning leg again.”

The Alchemist didn't know what to make of this woman. He knew of the practice of metalworking; Xerxes was the main source of armor for the neighboring countries, not to mention jewelry. But turning them into a working limb of some sort sounded otherworldly. He was thinking about not even considering her offer. Albeit, this kid really needs to get out of the palace and give him a break from dealing with his tantrums.

Quite a few days later, back at the shop, the Rockbells got to work on readying their workstation for the up-and-coming client that was believed to be on his way today. Pinako had gotten a heads-up from a herald the palace had sent. She didn't get why they couldn't just come down themselves, carting Ed behind them. But at least they sent someone to let her know that today was the start of relinquishing him from palace arrest.

A downed slave didn't have much use for anyone, so she's surprised they waited this long to get Ed walking again. Needless to say, this nation hasn't seen the butchery Amestris treats as an everyday occurrence. Pinako had seen the absence of battle scars on individuals of Xerxes. This reality may not look good for her business at the current moment; however, there's always time for the Queen of Amestris to get bored and storm Xerxes for their copious sand, just for entertainment purposes.

“Winry, is everything ready?” Pinako strolled into the main shop area, inhaling her pipe. She scanned the room to see everything in place.

“Yes, Granny!” Winry was tying an apron around her waist as she turned to Pinako. Reposing her hands on her hips, she looked so proud of herself. She's trained well as Pinako’s apprentice.

“Good, good…” Exhaling a puff of smoke. “You're still too young yet to take on a project by yourself, but in due time you'll do just fine.”

Winry smiled. “Thanks, Granny.”

“We can build this project together, but I'll let you do most of the work. How's that sound?”

“Can't wait!” Winry balled her fists and had stars in her eyes. Pinako smiled; she loved this kid so much.

“Al….I'm slipping.”

“Stop moving, brother.”

The brothers were just a few blocks away from the Rockbell establishment. Alphonse walked while carrying Edward on his back. He moved Ed higher and repositioned his hands under his upper thighs, consciously avoiding the sensitive area.

“How's that?”

Ed grunted from being bounced and grabbed Al's shoulder firmly. “Better….but this is still embarrassing…”

“Why?”

“Why do you even have to ask that? I'm the older brother, and you're carrying me.”

“Well, it is getting tiring; would you like to trade places?” Al looked over his shoulder to see Ed glaring at him. Which makes him chuckle.

“Ha ha, very funny, Al.” Ed huffs and sharply strikes Al on the head with his fist. Not, by any stretch of the imagination, sufficiently hard to hurt him.

“You need to learn to rely on people, Ed. I don't mind doing this for you. Especially if it leads to you walking again…”

Ed slumped against Al’s back, his arms sticking straight out in front. Al continued to look forward; the air around him was solemn.

“You haven't been yourself lately, and I miss being able to see you every day. With the alchemists keeping you in isolation,…. It's been hard on Mom and I…”

Ed looked at the back of Al's head. “Al…I’m-”

“Hup!” Al bounced Ed again to stop him from finishing what he was going to say, making Ed think he was about to fall. “Sorry about that; what were you saying, brother?”

“H-Hey! Watch it!” Ed exclaimed a protest, but chuckled and relaxed against his brother. Al didn't want to hear him apologize again. Ed knows it wasn't his fault, but he couldn’t help but feel like a burden since Al had been taking up his end of the work in the palace. “Nothing…”

Al murmured a reaction and continued in silence. Ed glanced around, definitely noticing the looks they'd been getting. As though it wasn't sufficiently strange to see somebody getting a piggyback ride, they genuinely couldn't rip their eyes from Ed's leg,…or the scarcity of it in that department. It made him self-conscious. They had decided to tie the left leg of his pants in a knot at about the knee to safeguard the dressings still wrapped around his thigh. He'd figured the dressings would make it more self-evident, yet presently, the shortfall of anything was agonizingly clear.

He hid his face in the nape of Al's neck. He outwardly groaned. Al didn't seem to acknowledge the noise and just kept walking. Of course, the brothers knew most of the people in this town, but it still didn't help when most of the looks Ed got were downright pitiful. He's sufficiently certain they had no idea what had transpired, but it's not like publicizing the information would alter the expressions on their faces.

Finally, they made it to the shop. Pinako had been waiting just outside looking for them.

“Ah, just in time. Hello, Alphonse.”

“Hi, Granny~”

“Where is your brother?”

“He's right here!” Al turned slightly to reveal Ed’s flat expression. He gave a slight wave of a hand. “I'm here…”

“Ah, Ed…” Taking a puff of her pipe. “Didn't see you there.”

Edward's eyes narrowed down at her. “What's that supposed to mean, you hag?!”

Pinako smirked around her pipe. “Oh nothing, small fry….” Turning to walk back into the shop.

Ed almost climbed off of Al's back in anger. “You get back here, you Witch!”

Al about lost his balance while trying to hold onto Ed. “Careful, Brother! I don't wanna drop you!”

Edward seethed as he gripped Al's shoulders. His temper scarcely calmed when Winry popped her head out.

“Would you just get in here, Ed. While the sun is still up?”

As Al walked onto the shop floor, Ed pouted a bit but stayed quiet.

“Set him down over there, Alphonse.” Pinako pulled on her gloves and pulled up a stool.

“Yes ma’am.” Walking over to a cushioned chair, Al slowly bent at the knees and guided Ed onto it.

“I got it Al.” Ed let go of Al's shoulders and placed himself down once he could touch the ground with his good leg. Al only moved out of the way once he was sure Ed was sitting.

“How long has it been?” Pinako took a puff of her pipe then placed it on a saucer. Ed just looked at her like she just spoke a foreign language and expected him to respond in kind.

“How long…?”

Alphonse cut in. “About two moons ago.”

“That should be long enough…Winry, take a look at the scarring and see if he's healed enough to at least do a fitting today. Then we'll take measurements.”

“Right!” Winry took the stool Pinako brought over and sat on it, hovering her gloved hands over Ed's tied pant leg.

“May I?”

Ed just blinked at her since this was all new territory to him, but he came back to reality and stammered out, “Yeah, go ahead….” He knew this had to happen, but he didn't want to see what it looked like either. He just watched as Winry pulled the knot apart and rolled the pant leg up his thigh, revealing the bandages.

“You okay?”

Ed looked up from his leg to Winry. He didn't realize that he apparently looked awkward and anxious. “I'm fine.”

She paused for a minute to gaze at him, then, at that point, moved to track down the end of the wrapping. When she lifted his thigh slightly, Ed had to shift his hip a bit to support his weight in the chair. Delicately unwrapping and rerolling the bandage to set it aside, Winry was finally able to see the damage, firsthand, caused by the King.

“Just tell me if anything hurts. It's really important if anything is tender or painful.”

“Got it…” Ed mentally prepared himself for pain.

Winry began poking and prodding at his stump. Around the sides and at the base of it, where it had scarred from sealing the wound.

The muscle in Ed’s thigh constricts. Winry looked up and stopped. “Does it hurt?”

“No…it's a…tingling sensation…”

“It could be nerve damage.” Pinako spoke up, standing off to the side, watching Winry massage Ed's thigh.

“Overall, it seems to have healed rather nicely. The seam is virtually gone and the scarring isn't all that lamentable.” Winry set his thigh down, but continued to touch in certain places.

Ed was fascinated by simply watching her hands move. He didn't have the foggiest idea about how she knew what and where to touch and what it implied. He's read his fair share of anatomy books, but seeing it in action was something to behold.

“Is it common for people in Amestris to have fake limbs?”

“More common than you think, kid…” Pinako crossed her arms. “It's a shame, but that's why I do what I do. It's something that gives people a reason to go on.”

Ed hummed and peered down at his legs. He couldn't bring himself to look at it for longer than a second. He felt a bit sick seeing the scarred tissue. Winry had started taking estimations of his thigh. She had to know the size of his leg and the length of it to appropriately fabricate his leg to match the other. “How long does this take?”

“You won't be walking on your own anytime soon.” Winry chimed in while she wrote numbers down. “So don't get any ideas, Ed.”

Offended, Ed crossed his arms. “I’m just asking. It's not like I'm itching to get back to clean-up duty.” He pouted, turning his head to face Al. Averting his gaze to look down. “Although I don't want Al to do all the work forever…”

“I already told you not to worry about that, brother.”

Ed knit his eyebrows together. “Still…”

“Work can wait; your rehabilitation is more important. Especially if you want your freedom back. I know you don't want to have to rely on Al anymore, not to mention at all, Ed. But let those who care help you sometimes.” Winry stood up and went to get an attachment for the model.

Ed groaned and scratched the back of his head in frustration. “Yeah, yeah, I already got the whole spiel from Al here…”

Al chuckled and Winry sat back down.

“But thanks for this….” Ed didn't look at her, or anyone, for that matter. He appeared to be embarrassed, yet it seemed as though he was only appreciative of this open door, given that he was going out of his mind after being disabled for only a few months.

Winry just smiled. ‘No problem, Ed. Now,” Squaring up her posture, she presented her hands, palm side up, to him. “I'm going to need you to sit on the edge of your seat so I can size you up.”

“Okay…” Ed took her hands and used her support to pull himself forward.

She cradled his limb in between her legs. Holding his thigh up enough to slide the open end of the attachment over his skin. She was more concerned with securely fastening it to him without obstructing his blood flow or causing discomfort, and she was unaware that Ed was practically observing everything she did. Pivoting at the waist to prehend the leg itself and drape it across her thigh to line it up with Ed's.

“I'll have to readjust it when you stand up…” Winry idly talked to no one in particular while she attached the leg and locked it in place.

Ed didn't particularly like the feeling, but it's supposed he's going to have to get used to this for the foreseeable future. Only then did he realize what Winry had said.

“Wait…you want me to stand up? How do I know it won't buckle or shift or-?” He looked panicked.

Winry frowned, bending the prosthetic at the knee to set it on the floor. “Are you trying to insult me, Ed?”

Ed stammered. “No! No! I didn't mean-”

“This is just a test; your model will be an impeccable fit, so it won't budge no matter how much you're bound to move.” Winry stood up and pulled the stool back and away to give them space, holding her hands out to him again. “Now stand up.”

Ed raised his gaze and studied Winry's face. Unquestionably, he trusted her completely, but right now, he didn't really trust himself. He last walked months ago. He had been sleeping intermittently. He wasn't psychologically ready for this phase of his recovery, but in order to eventually stand on his own two legs again—even if one of them is artificial—he would need to muster the courage to fall repeatedly.

Reaching up, he once more took her hands in his. She curled her fingers to firmly lock her hands around his, pressing her thumbs into his skin. To him, this was a sign that he was going to struggle, and she was already preparing to support his weight. He took a deep breath, looking down at the prosthetic first before positioning his good leg under him.

“Take it slow and easy. You need the leg to fully extend before you put weight on it fully. I don't want it buckling on you.”

“That's reassuring…” Ed sighs and premeditates that he will put most of his weight on his good leg. Not so much because he didn't trust this contraption that was attached to him, but more out of nerves and fear of falling. He struggled to pick himself up and relied a good bit on Winry’s support.

Everything seemed to be going just fine. Winry stepped forward with one foot to hold the prosthetic to the floor, just so it didn't move without Ed’s knowledge. She wanted to make sure he could comfortably stand so she could properly see how he positions his hips. She upheld his hands and peered down at his hip, the leg, and his stance. Analyzing how the leg shifts and moves. Glancing at Ed's face, he didn't appear to be confident at all.

“Center your weight so that I can see how you normally stand.”

“That's easier said than done…” He felt a bit shaky to her, but he complied and shifted to his left.

Winry continued to support the leg when he shifted the extra weight. Ed calculated his breathing as he fixated on simply standing. This, by itself, was not an easy task.

“I'm going to step back a little so it's just you on that leg, okay Ed?”

“Wait! Hold on just a second!”

“Ed, relax. You're doing fine.”

Ed gritted his teeth then folded his lips inward, peering down.

“Don't look down, you'll upset your balance. Look at me, Ed. I need you to stand on your own to get the proper measurements.”

“Gimme a minute, okay?” Ed was getting irritated, mostly with himself. He didn't feel sure enough about himself and his equilibrium to give up Winry's hands.

Winry loosened her hold on Ed's hands, giving him a moment to gather himself. She felt the tension in his fingers. He intermittently gripped her fingers tightly, digging his nails into her gloves a little. She let a moment go by, and he began to loosen his grip.

“Don't think about it too much. You should be able to balance yourself like it was your own limb.”

Ed's fierce golden gaze caught her eye for a second. He was really working through it just to do this. The determination in his eyes said it all. She was pleased with him, yet she really wanted him to concentrate now, she’ll have to tell him later. A glimmer of concern appeared in his gaze when she gradually removed her hands.

“If you absolutely need it, Al’s ready to catch you.” Winry quickly grabbed some tools off the table and busied herself with the particulars. Marginally adjusting the straps like she said she would and taking measurements accordingly.

“You're doing great, Ed.”

“Don't patronize me…” Ed grumbled and felt warmth in his cheeks. His arms themselves were parallel with the ground as he fought to balance himself. A look of concentration was plastered all over his face.

Ed was just a bundle of nerves right now. Al's hand had made its way into his line of sight, confidently waiting to be his knight in shining armor if he decided he wanted gravity to claim victory over him. Now that Ed was standing on his own, with the infrequent tug and pull of Winry's hands, he could actually see himself benefiting from this prosthetic thing. Even if he was just barely standing like a toddler, this was progress for him. He didn't like that he couldn't shift his weight. Every time he thought about moving his good leg, Winry would touch his thigh and push or pull in a direction to straighten him back out.

He hasn't been standing for long, yet his hip is starting to protest. Not to mention his stump. Indeed, there appeared to be cushioning inside the leg, yet putting his weight on something that wasn't intended to bear this sort of weight in this manner was beginning to hurt.

He gulped and felt his body start to shake; it was getting a bit uncomfortable. He willed himself not to say anything in fear of giving up too soon. How long might other new clients, at any point, remain here while getting a fitting? He didn't want her to start over or take additional time if he was unable to take the discomfort. He sucked it up, gnawed the inside of his lip, and gazed at the back wall.

“Brother?” Of course Alphonse noticed the strained expression Ed was trying to hide.

“I'm fine, Al.” The words that came out were a bit shaky and not at all reassuring.

Winry seemed to be done and sat her tools back on the table, recording a few additional notes and numbers. He attempted to see what she was writing; however, losing a bit of focus caused his balance to waver. Comically flailing his arms as he teeters, he managed to right himself after letting out an undignified ‘Wo-ah!’. Sticking his arms straight out to the sides to brace himself and wearing an obscure expression.

Winry turned, leaning on the table with one hand, she raised an eyebrow at him. “The shakes making you weak at the knees?” She found his demeanor amusing.

The light jab at his expense was irritating. “First time jitters…” Ed affirmed through gritted teeth, staring her down with fire in his eyes. If he could move without making a fool of himself right now….

She motioned for Al to help her guide him back down to a seated position, but Ed opted to take it upon himself, visibly relaxing and letting out a sigh.

“That's going to be part of your rehabilitation. First standing, then walking. It's important to get your leg used to the prosthetic and the pressure of being used.” Ed just groaned a response.

Pulling the stool back in front of him, she sat and unlocked his leg, setting it aside. He didn't like how fast she took it apart; it was a bit unnerving.

“Well this sounds like it's going to be a very annoying year…” Ed grumbled.

Winry shook her head, unbuckling Ed's leg and finally letting it breathe. “You won't be jumping off roofs in a year, Ed. Sorry to break it to you, but you'll be down and out for at least three.”

“Three!?”

Idly unrolling his pant leg to recover and tie it for him, taking his hand to place the roll of bandages in it. “Yes, three.” She subdued him with an intense gaze.

“You're relearning the fundamentals of walking again. It's going to take time. All the same, you'll be doing a lot of sitting too. You can't be on it at all times.” Closing his hand around the roll, she touches her finger to his knuckle. “And you don't need to wrap it anymore. Give it some air and keep it moving.”

Ed looked from his hand to her and blinked. Then deciding to groan dramatically and slouch. “You're killing me…”

Winry gave him a smug grin. “Actually, I'm saving you. It wouldn't kill you to appreciate me sometimes.” Patting the top of his thigh before standing and going to the table to organize her things.

Ed leaned forward, pressing a hand on his right knee and huffing. “I said thank you!”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Winry points at him playfully with a tool in hand. “But I expect a lot more of those in the future.”

[mtk4fun]

Far from the Madding Crowd - chapter 55

Boldwood is sentenced to death but a petition is put forth requesting a stay in his execution due to the fact that everyone is beginning to think he's insane. If anything, he's very creepy.

In a locked closet was now discovered an extraordinary collection of articles. There were several sets of ladies' dresses in the piece, of sundry expensive materials; silks and satins, poplins and velvets, of all colours which from Bathsheba's style of dress might have been judged to be her favorites. There were two muffs, sable and ermine. Above all there was a case of jewelry, containing four heavy gold bracelets and several lockets and rings, all f fine quality and manufacture. At the very last minute the petition to save Boldwood's life is accepted by the courts and Boldwood is confined in prison.

[jewelryrich]

Blue topaz pendant necklace silver jewelry for ladies

[inu-jiru]

For the ask game!

13. I saw your art on the goetia sometimes doing adverts for products in your rewrite. Do you have ideas for what other sins are advertising? It is a really neat idea! :0c

Ahhh! Great question! For "H U N G E R", I imagine the Sins have their own products to sell, as well as any collaborative projects they might do since a lot of sin tends to overlap:

For Pride, I don't see Lucifer really selling anything unless it's based off him in some way (i.e. a film adaptation of his various deeds). I seem him more as a straight up propaganda guy who'll just plaster his image everywhere to make sure everyone knows he's in charge (and it irritates him greatly when they're destroyed, but that's a different discussion entirely ;3). Lucifer's already paid a large amount in taxes from everyone (Goetias and Sins included), so money isn't his main concern.

Satan typically collabs with Belphegor to advertise steroids and I also see him hosting Hell's version of WWE (except a lot more violent). I do plan on keeping some of the wild west/ranch elements from canon, and Hellborn who own land can advertise their goods if they can afford it.

Beelzebub advertises various food items, but mainly pushes her own line of honey which is dangerously addictive (eating it can send a demon spiraling into a gluttonous frenzy). She also has her own food channel where some members of the Goetia (like Queen Felicity) host their own cooking shows (she'll regularly make demands on what kind of food they produce since it's all food porn to her, so if one day she wants to see some poor imp butchered and made into a roast, it has to happen). As much as I didn't care for "Queen Bee", I did think the idea of pop music and parties fit Gluttony in a sense that, yeah, people splurge when they're partying, so she'd have a hand in pushing Hell's music industry as well.

Mammon handles much of Hell's manufacturing, so anything from clothes, jewelry, theme parks and anything else he can make a buck on, he'll advertise (mainly to the other Goetia since most Hellborn can't afford the good stuff). He's not above the idea of "sex sells", so I tried to implement that in the art piece I did. A story in the series I hope to get to at one point relates to his and Leviathan's collaboration in bringing cruise ships to Envy's ocean, so that'll be fun to write more about.

Lust, of course, manages the porn industry and everything involved with that. Collaborations would include aphrodisiac-based foods with Beelzebub as well as some darker projects that I'd rather not outright state here, but involve Belphegor (you can probably piece it together; this series won't shy away from dark topics, but I wanna give fair warning before I go into detail). Ironically enough, Asmodeus doesn't advertise contraceptives all that much, but I imagine he'd want pregnancy and disease to spread like crazy.

Envy tends to overlap with Greed when it comes to goods, but I can't see Leviathan advertising very much. He's the most animalistic out of the Sins and prefers the primal fear and chaos he gets out of his demons rather than material gain. He only really bothers to do it because he can't stand the other Sins having things that he doesn't.

Finally, Sloth is the mass producer of drugs of all kinds, uppers, downers, the works. Belphegor also endorses spas and resorts (for those who can afford it, of course). She doesn't advertise much, and that suits her fine since it's less work to deal with.

I'm sorry if this answer was super rambly aaaa I was just really excited to answer! ^^ Hopefully, it's an interesting read!

[kisskissbanggang]

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 2 ✨🚀

[2.2k words, 10 min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - SFW/Smut in Later Chapters - Meeting the Gang, Shady Characters, Hiding from the Cops, Different Levels of Asshole, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath in the cargo hold. Your boots were clunking on the iron floor of the haggard frigate just a bit too loudly for your liking. There were plenty of reasons you should've gone with different shoes, in hindsight. 

As an experimental manufactured planet, T’kaarm ran on a scaled up version of electromagnetic gravity commonly used on government and military crafts. In fact, if a tourist were to take one of those overpriced tours under the planet’s crust, where the electromagnetic plates rested, they’d get a taste of the peculiar sensation of suddenly being pulled in the opposite direction that they’d just been standing. All your clothes were lined with dainty metallic fibers. Every piece of jewelry you owned was Core-Safe, which was hilarious on T’kaarm as, again, the plates weren’t even in the planet’s core. Everything was made to pull you down to the surface, just enough. 

The steel plates were the current reason for your regret regarding the dumb boots. You should've thrown them out weeks before, when the plate on your right sole finally got exposed through the wearing rubber. A nasty zap from a faulty threshold on a commuter rail finally knocked some sense into you, and they’d been laying abandoned by your front door for weeks. 

Until today, when Klave had notified you it was time for your biweekly check-in. Except you knew it was a week early. And you knew that your employer for your last gig sold you out. 

You untied the stupid boots and tiptoed out of them – or as much as you could, now that you were bouncing a bit. There was just enough metal in your clothes, your bag, your jewelry, the fillings in your teeth to confidently hold you an inch above the floor. 

It was hard to see in the dark cargo hold, but this was fine. This was great cover, all things considered. You carefully shuffled around a maze of boxes, crates, and trunks, hoping to find enough of an opening to duck down into. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” came a sudden voice cutting through the dark. 

You damn near jumped out of your skin, whirling around to face the intruding sound. No apparent luck, but you did finally get a somewhat better idea of your bearings. Your fingers were curled around the spaced apart bars of a cargo cage to stop your momentum, likely against the starboard side of the hull since you entered the rear of the craft and veered right. But were you inside the cage, or out?

A single, red light illuminated an alarm button on the short ceiling. It dimly silhouetted the speaker in the dark. 

“Well?” the stranger continued. You could see his head cock curiously to one side, looking almost sarcastic given his bored tone. 

You let up a reluctant sigh. “Okay. I'm sorry for crashing, but I just need to lay low–”

“Why?” the man interrupted. “Are you wanted?”

“You could say that,” you impatiently answered. Your fingertips nervously fiddled with the raised lettering on your bag, slung down off your shoulder and resting in the crook of your arm. Supernova Hospitality. Once upon a time, you'd worked for one of those silly hotels that offered those silly tours under the planet’s surface, long before you learned how to make better money. Long before you went to jail. Long before you were saddled with Klave. 

Piping lined the low ceiling, and the man grabbed on to lean forward attentively. It was still your turn to talk, apparently. 

“Look, I can just leave,” you offered, “but if you let me stay, I’ll pay you–”

You were interrupted again, this time with an incredulous laugh. “Pay? With what money? You can’t even afford shoes, hun.”

First you wondered how he could tell with how dark it was in here. Then you were wondering where he got off calling you ‘hun.’

But you didn't get a chance to pursue either of these things, because the asshole nonchalantly reached over and pushed the alarm button. 

The lights flashed on at the same time a serious buzzer echoed through the spacecraft. 

Your ass hit the floor and bounced before you even knew you fell. 

“What the fuck, dude–?!” you sputtered. You spied a trunk stacked on top of a couple crates, leaving just enough room for you to crawl under when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the main floor. 

“Just seeing how good you are at hiding with the lights on, little stowaway,” the guy snickered. Now that you got a better look at him, you were surprised to find he wasn't more intimidating in terms of looks. Cropped, dark brown hair hung down in a shaggy fringe in front of his almond shaped eyes. Perfect nose, cute, thin lips curled into a shit-eating smirk – he was actually handsome, an unexpected feat for a dick like this. And he wasn't just resting both arms at the same time by leaning on the overhead pipe; he was handcuffed. 

Mercenaries with a cuffed guy in the cargo hold? 

Oh, fuck.

That meant–

The commotion in the stairwell spilled into the room. A few pairs of boots and sneakers stepped in front of your vision, and you strained to see past them. 

“I warned you about touching that fucking button, Lee,” a new disembodied voice threatened from somewhere behind you. 

Cuffs dismissively shrugged and gestured both his hands in your direction, all silent. 

One pair of legs spun to look towards wherever he’d pointed, and suddenly one guy ducked down to see you under the trunk. Cute round doe eyes blinked at you, or at least the one that wasn't obscured by an eyepatch. You and Eyepatch wordlessly stared each other down. There was a pathetic, silent plea in your expression, you could just tell.

And he held your gaze while he waved everyone over. “Hey, guys– OW!”

You kicked Eyepatch right in the shin and tried to wriggle out from under the trunk, but another body blocked you. A shock of red and black hair entered your vision first. He didn’t say anything, to you or his cohorts. He only curiously arched an eyebrow at you. You were ready to punch him right in his pierced nose when there was a banging knock on the sub-hatch door. 

Humorously, you weren’t the only one who filled with dread, by the looks of it. All the men stood, warily regarding the door and hesitating until there was another knock, this time with a yell accompanying. Nose Ring’s hand hovered over the hilt of a knife clipped into his trouser pocket. 

“Open up! T’kaarm Port Authority!”

Klave, obviously.

Nose Ring glanced down at you and back at the door, his jaw firm like he was grinding his teeth in thought. He glanced at you again.

“Jeongin, open the door.”

So he was the voice barking at Cuffs when the crew came crashing in. 

More light spilled into the cargo hold, causing the men to squint for a second. From your vantage point, you could only see Eyepatch, Cuffs, and Nose Ring. Cuffs had boredly moved to sit on a bench in the back of the makeshift brig.

“Greetings, gentlemen, I’ll make this quick.” God you hated Klave. “This is your Slipdock?”

You knew he was referencing the giant freighter parked on top of them. 

“Funniest thing,” Eyepatch nervously chuckled. “We were here first and the big bastard dropped down on top of us. You can check the quartermaster–”

“No, that's fine. And your Captain…?”

Nose gave a curt raise of his hand, really only gesturing with a couple fingers. “Bang,” he cautiously supplied. “First name Chan.” You could hear Klave or the cops behind him messing with a scanner. A blue scan grid flashed onto the Captain’s face for a second.

“Good, good. And your first mate?”

Eyepatch looked at Captain Bang first before raising his hand as well. “Han? Jisung– ah fuck!” The first mate cursed when the flash of the scan grid left him blinking.

Without asking or warning, the scan grid hit Cuff’s face as well, getting an annoyed grimace out of him.

“Lee? Minho Lee?”

Cuffs reluctantly nodded.

“Captain, you’re authorized to deliver outlaws?”

“Yeah,” Chan impatiently answered while he felt his pockets, “of course we are. Ji, do you have–”

“What? No, hold on–” Jisung quietly stalled, somewhat panicked. “That shit’s back on the bridge, I–”

Another pair of boots suddenly entered, stopping right beside Chan.

“Thank you, Seungmin,” Jisung hurriedly whispered before piling everything that was in his hands into Chan’s hands. Chan quickly reviewed everything before handing them back to Jisung to pass to Klave.

“Clearances, authorizations, and passes, officers,” he plainly explained.

“Thank you, Captain. And your final port?”

“Victory Meridian in Daedalus,” Chan answered with a nod towards Minho. “To drop off the cargo.”

“Perfect, Captain,” Klave praised. What a kiss-ass. “One last thing… Have you happened to have taken care of any attempted stowaways, maybe an outlaw trying to seek refuge?”

All three men in your sight line glanced at you and you vehemently shook your head from where you were hidden under the trunk. Minho and Jisung both looked at Chan next, but Chan was still looking at you. 

And you realized what it was. On your wrist closest to him, you knew the scar from your implanted inmate chip was visible. They injected ink into the cauterizer so it'd leave a tattoo, a little metallic logo for the port authority. 

Chan had a similar mark on his wrist. So did Jisung. 

The glare you shared with Chan felt like hours instead of seconds before he finally looked up, pretending to have just been looking at his watch instead. 

“No, officer,” he shook his head, “now, I'm sorry to be rude but do you mind? We have to make our boost time.”

“Captain, are you sure? There were reported sightings–”

“Officer,” Chan calmly interrupted. He pulled out a wad of folded paper credits. “I actually don't remember if we paid our gate fee already. Would you be so gracious as to check with the quartermaster for me?” 

The Captain handed the credits to Jisung to pass along. 

“My pleasure, Captain,” Klave gushed. “I’ll report back shortly–”

You were stunned that it’d been so easy. This was the last you’d ever hear of Klave, thankfully, as the door was shut in his face. You finally shambled out from under the trunk in the cargo hold, still bouncing on your tiptoes. There were a few new faces now. A couple of the men sat on crates near the stairwell, inspecting your boots. 

Jisung amusedly pushed your shoulder down, watching you bounce right back up. 

“Hey, thank you guys,” you offered sincerely. 

“Cute,” Jisung smirked, still distracted by your bobbing, “like a little ghost. She coming up with us?”

Chan also bopped you down a couple times before grabbing your shoulder. He beeped open the cargo cage and shoved you inside before you even had a chance to protest. “Nah,” he casually decided. 

“What?!” you protested, grabbing the bars. “You’re leaving me here?!”

“We gotta see if there’s a pretty price on your head,” Chan explained. “No hard feelings, I hope. Now what's your name?”

One of your hands relinquished the bars to reshoulder your bag. You nervously fiddled with the raised letters again. 

“... Nova,” you answered. 

“Hyunjin?” Chan called over his shoulder. One of the men, a tall, slender blonde, stepped forward. He drew out a small pocket scanner and focused the beam on your face before he also noticed your inmate mark and got that, too. Hyunjin looked at the scanner data. 

“Yeah, that's not your name,” he boredly shook his head while he read. “But I like it. You've got a lot of pages in here…”

“Jisung,” nagged a voice at the stairs. A bespectacled man was poking his head in the doorway. “The gate agent is on my ass–”

“In a minute, Seungmin, god!” Jisung rolled his eyes, dragging his feet on his way to the stairs. 

“You’re keeping me in here until Victory Meridian?” you frantically asked the captain. He was reading over Hyunjin’s shoulder. 

“Just until we make sure you're not worth anything,” Hyunjin answered, still reading his scanner as well. “You’ll probably be out before the end of the day cycle.”

“Sounds about right,” Chan ruled. He looked between you and Minho. “Play nice. Don’t touch that fucking button again.”

And just like that, Chan, Hyunjin, and the rest of the men cleared out. 

You were alone with Minho, a bounty you knew nothing about, and nothing to firmly anchor you to the ground. Your boots were still out in the cargo hold proper. 

And the lights went back out. 

The ship rumbled to life around you. 

A couple strips of work lights blinked on, but that was it. 

“The pilot called you a little ghost but you remind me more of a little bird,” Minho chuckled to himself. 

You considered your response.

There was always the silent route, maybe bore him into leaving you alone or divulging something valuable. 

Or there was always the option of trying to be friendly, maybe make one alliance since it was available. 

There was, however, the risk that silence could come across as taunting or antagonistic. But, then again, talking could appear disingenuous, maybe even cloying. 

[diliwriter]

What are all the types of aluminium fabrication?

Aluminum fabrication design encompasses a myriad of techniques and processes that transform raw aluminum into various finished products. Each method offers unique advantages, catering to diverse applications across industries ranging from aerospace to construction and automotive to electronics.

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Sheet metal fabrication utilizes flat sheets of aluminum, which are cut, bent, and formed into desired shapes and sizes. From precision components for electronics to automotive body panels and aircraft fuselages, sheet metal fabrication offers versatility and efficiency in producing lightweight, corrosion-resistant parts with high structural integrity.

Casting processes, including sand casting, die casting, and investment casting, are employed to create intricate aluminum components with precise geometries. Sand casting is suitable for producing large, complex parts such as engine blocks and transmission housings, while die casting offers fast production of small to medium-sized components with tight tolerances. Investment casting, also known as lost-wax casting, enables the creation of finely detailed parts for aerospace, medical, and jewelry applications.

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The diverse types of aluminum fabrication techniques provide manufacturers and designers with a wealth of options to meet specific performance, cost, and design requirements. Whether it's extrusion, sheet metal fabrication, casting, or welding, each method contributes to the production of high-quality aluminum components for a wide range of applications. With expertise and quality materials from Alugrow Trading, manufacturers can leverage the full potential of aluminum fabrication to bring their designs to life.

Alugrow Trading

[bomberqueen17]

packing for journey

so Dude in his infinite wisdom booked us tickets that go out on a Tuesday and come back on a Thursday and then we just both took both weeks off work. This is new for me, I’m used to a like, “leave right after work” aesthetic. i once went straight to work after getting off a redeye from California. So this is a very, very new notion for me, this concept of like, taking one’s time.

I have not packed yet. I spent the entire weekend working industriously on like. The wrong things. It’s okay but like. I became preoccupied with making sure my travel first aid kit had literally everything I could possibly need, correctly apportioned and labeled. I repackaged things into smaller containers. That started getting out of hand; I dug out some old tins, an old Altoids tin got filled with Tums. A cleaned-out lip balm tin was refilled with ibuprofen. (My first aid kit is meant to zip kinda flat and open like a folder so my old method of film canisters for medication didn’t work great.) I found a tiny holder for ear plugs. I emptied a small 2.5-oz squeezy bottle of hand sanitizer that expired in 2014, rinsed it well, and refilled it with aloe after-sun gel. i couldn’t find laundry powder so I had to buy laundry detergent concentrate and I couldn’t find a good small container for that in plastic so it’s in a glass bottle but I‘m sure that will be fine.

I set out to sort my jewelry into sets to wear with specific outfits, but was defeated by not having packed outfits yet. I also had got tiny containers for the purpose but they weren’t the right shape for some of the jewelry. So I wound up just unpacking and re-packing the tin I’ve been carrying around all year with the jewelry I like to wear, with actual matched sets of things that maybe coordinate with outfits I’m bringing. We’ll see.

(I did start packing clothes. I finished the hem on the black linen Rockwell dress. I want to do a little more hand-sewing to finish the sleeve edges on that, and to get the waistband put together, but it’s done apart from that.) 

It got out of hand by the end of the night. I had a great little ripstop nylon velcro pouch with a carabiner, see-- they come on tripods we sell at work, holding little allen wrenches to adjust the tripods, and when we have a defective one sometimes the manufacturer doesn’t want them back so we throw them out, and I took the little carabiner-bag first because it’s perfectly good. And I’ve been looking at this thing trying to figure out what should go in it, for ages. And then I was fidgeting and the big 3″ bobby pins I use to hold my braids up are exactly the length to fit in that thing, so I put them in there, and then I attached it to my purse so that I will always have a bobby pin easy to hand, and this was so hilarious to me I could not stop laughing about it. So i took a break.

But now the plane leaves in 24 hours and I have some packing to do but all the laundry is dry now, the suitcases are laid out, the bag of summer clothes i collected has been retrieved, and I’m ready to start thinking about it.

I also made my lens selections and charged my camera and cleared off my camera memory cards and such. So. We’re getting there.

OH and i also installed the Colombia pack for my Bird ID app (Merlin). Excited about that too.