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chemicalsmaterialsaltus · 2 years

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Global Insert Ceramic Ball Market Growth and Opportunity 2022-2030

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JINTAI SINOCATA MTE Group VFF Devson Group Jiangxi Sainthing Chemical Packing Christy Catalytics Medaad Chemical and Technical Solutions Saint-Gobain

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2-5 mm 6-10 mm 10-20 mm 20-30mm ＞30 mm

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Chemical Industry Fertilizer Industry Heat Exchange Others

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APAC Europe South America MEA

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bdiequipments · 2 years

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This Martensite With Ceramic Insert Blow Bar is the part of the impact crusher mill that impacts against the material when entering the crushing chamber. It is made of martensite with ceramic, which is a newest and superior material offering for wear parts. This kind of material provides and the hardness and wear resistance of chrome irons. There are many types of blow bars, such as strip, T-shape, S-shape, I-shape, axe-shape and grooved shape, etc., but the strip-shaped structure is generally adopted in production.

Advantages

With special heat-treatment, the hardness of our blow bar is extremely high. Martensite With Ceramic Insert Blow Bar offers superior solutions for some applications where high wear resistance and excellent impact resistance are needed. These blow bars are widely used on mining, construction, chemical, cement and metallurgical industry. We also produce blow bars according to customers drawings.

Available material for blow bars:

The blow bar of the impact crusher is made of high chromium cast iron, high manganese steel and other wear-resistant alloy steel. Ceramic insert is a new material blow bar

Suitable brands:

The impact crusher spare parts we produce almost cover all the famous brands, including:Metsoo, Sandvikk, Shannbao,Triio,Terrex, Mingyu, Keelmann,SBM,Gator,Telssmith, FL Smith, MCCloskey, rTC. We can also make the parts according to your drawings.

Blow bar for impact crushers advantages:

1.Imply the external refining technology, effectively reduced the harmful elements, impurity and oxygen and hydrogen harm, greatly enhanced the abrasion resistance and impact toughness of the steel 2.Using proprietary metamorphic agent for modification treatment, fine grains, improve carbide

3.configuration and distribution, and to improves the abrasion resistance and tenacity

4.Optimizing heat treatment process, make the product of uniform hardness,especially impact abrasion resistance becoming stronger

For more information please visit our website:

#ceramic insert blow bars

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hey-august · 1 month

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You're coming in… you're coming close

😌🍃 This is a continuation of Close your eyes, just settle, settle, just with a different title.

The first part was originally a one-shot (and could still be read as such), so this part ended up with more plot and less prose. Hopefully the overall tone carried through. (tbh, i struggled with that so much.)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Word count: ~3.5k ...more than double the first one 🙃 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, insertion sex, jacking off, facial, manual stimulation, a lil bit of an angsty fight A/N: Here's the opening line that I first wrote and discarded: "The slivered moon was high and so was Buggy."

Edit: Huuuuge amazing wonderful thanks to @be-not-afraid-gg for this suggestion!!!! 🩷🩷🩷

Title from "Great Romances of the 20th Century" by Taking Back Sunday

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The night is dark and full of creaks and groans from the ship listing in the slow rolling waves. Footsteps shuffle across the wood floor, adding to the ambiance. Buggy walks slowly, with bare feet tucked into untied boots, and moving in time with the subtle swells.

His hazy mind drifts in circles around the one idea that set his body in motion. A thought that had seeped from his head, down into his mouth, and settled on his tongue. There’s an absence under the taste of smoke and fire. An emptiness that calls for something flavorful.

Lost in the cyclone of thoughts, the illuminated sign of life doesn’t register until Buggy steps into the brightly lit kitchen. What he assumed was a beacon luring him towards his destination, was actually the mark of a haven for late night cravings. A haven you had already founded.

You’re leaning on a counter, midway through a bite of toast, and eyes wide at the unexpected company. Red eyes that match his.

“Sorry, didn’t think anyone would be here,” Buggy stammers, spacing out and forgetting that he’s the captain of the ship.

Anxiety bubbles in his chest, turning over the hunger that brought him to the kitchen, and mixing it with a different desire. The warm scent of cinnamon joins the turmoil in his body. Buggy nervously rubs his jaw, the stubble scratchy against his bare hand.

“Smells good.”

You finish the interrupted bite and push a small plate towards the door. “Want some?”

Buggy walks over and studies at the slice of toast you offered. Scattered islands of cinnamon and sugar sink into pools of butter. The lush mixture spreads across the landscape, an impression of how it would feel in his mouth. Buggy swallows the excess moisture his mouth is creating in anticipation and nods. You nudge the plate closer, creating a soft rasp as the ceramic slides against wood.

It’s messy and flavorful. Soft and crunchy. Sweet and lingering. The flavored butter coats his tongue, the heaviness carrying away the taste of resin and ash. He glances at your glistening lips and wonders if they’re also coated in sugar and cinnamon. The thought is chased away with a dry bite of uncoated crust.

“I’m glad I washn’t the only one in the mood for a late night sch-nack.”

You stifle laughter as the remark is delivered through a mouthful of half-chewed food. Buggy cracks a grin as the restrained joy still finds a path to your eyes. Feeling a familiar twist in his stomach, he shoves the rest of the cinnamon toast in his mouth and hopes the food will tamp down the ache.

“D’you do this often?” Buggy asks.

It’s no secret that some of the crew has particular hobbies. While Buggy’s interests sometimes overlap with his crew’s, he prefers to indulge in a select few on his own. This feels different, though. He already partook in privacy, leaving behind the ash and resin before lumbering to the kitchen.

“Sometimes…you?”

“Sometimes.”

The silence following the confessions was infused by the cinnamon - warm and comforting. This wasn’t a joint activity, it was just two individuals in a concurrent moment. A shared experience that would be repeated the following week. And the week after. And the next, as well. It became a routine.

The evening sessions begin independently until the smoke carries you both to the kitchen. Together you fill the room with laughter borne from empty giddy thoughts, while filling your stomachs with whatever you could get your sticky fingers on.

Grilled cheese sandwiches, where more cheese is eaten in anticipation, than put between the bread slices. Instant noodles that Buggy prepares when he arrives first. Apple slices started a playful argument when you say they taste better with a bit of salt, while Buggy disagrees and slathers his portion in obscene amounts of peanut butter.

One unscheduled night you show up at the captain’s quarters, wearing a sheepish expression and carrying a plate of buttered toast coated liberally in cinnamon sugar. Under the chill of sobriety, Buggy’s chest rapidly fills with drumbeats. There’s no heady fog to dampen the sound, so it reverberates in his head until your voice cuts through.

“I wanted a snack and thought that maybe you’d want some too.”

His stomach turns, flipping so aggressively that he nearly feels nauseous. The soothing smell of spices drifts into the room, ready to confront the turmoil in Buggy. It talks to him with a soft murmur, saying this is no different than the nights in the kitchen. Fantasies are just fantasies.

Finally, Buggy opens the door wider as his answer, welcoming this reality. Your eyes are red, and so are your cheeks as you enter the room, bringing a new addition to your weekly routines.

These extra sessions happen without planning. Any night could be enhanced by a knock at the door from a giddy visitor bringing temptation.

The first time Buggy went to your room, he over prepared for the trip. His body arrived before his mind. His thoughts trailed slowly and lazily, not making any effort to catch up until the time was right. Until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a carpet of smoke.

Leaning against your bed, Buggy watched the small flame illuminate your face and listened to your deep breathing. When you looked over and caught him staring, all he could do was offer you a dopey grin and a bag of chips.

The late night rendezvous continue to happen at least once a week. A reliable respite, no matter how long the ship is at sea. If one person burns through their stash too quickly, there’s always some to share. What started as individual moments that eventually collided, turned into shared joints, passed between fingers and lips.

One night finds Buggy sitting in his usual spot on the floor of your room. His back is pressed against the bedframe and his head rests on the edge of the mattress you’re laying on. The hair from his ponytail is close enough to tickle your hand.

“We should stop doing this.”

In the broken silence, the words sound wrong and don’t fit in Buggy’s head. Stop sitting quietly? Stop smoking so much? Stop clearing out the kitchen? With eyes still closed, he hums a questioning response.

The bed shifts as you sit up. “We should stop whatever this is.”

Craning his neck, Buggy looks to see exactly what you’re talking about. You’re already staring at him, eyes searching his face for understanding that won’t be found.

“This,” you repeat, gesturing between you two. “Whatever we’re doing…I think it should- I don’t think we should-”

“Okay.” The response explodes out of Buggy’s mouth in an attempt to stop the painful words coming from yours.

You want to stop all of this. Stop sitting in silence with him. Stop smoking with him. You don’t want him around anymore.

Even through the brain fog, your voice rings clear. His mind clings to your request, squeezing it and refusing to let go, no matter how much it stings. Buggy nods along to the replay in his head before pushing himself up.

With a hand on the doorknob, Buggy pauses. Questions tumble inside the pirate, fighting against each other in the haze and growing to take space from the weaker ones. He squeezes the brass orb. The metal is cool against his bare hand. One question takes advantage of the calm feeling and slips out.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Buggy stares at the door before him. He doesn’t turn around.

“Why,” he repeats mockingly slowly. “Why do you want to stop now? Why did you put up with this for so long? Were you just putting up with me?”

Buggy’s voice rises and cracks as the questions overflow. His hold on the doorknob tightens in an attempt to keep himself grounded.

In the following silence, Buggy sucks on the venom of his words. They were bitter. Not strong enough. But also too strong. They taste of regret and all he wants to do is burn them away. Douse them in alcohol and set them alight until he’s too numb to taste anything.

“Is that what you think?”

The bed creaks as you stand up and Buggy spins to face you.

“Obviously. I thought this was fun. I thought we were having a good time, but clearly I was wrong. You don’t like doing this,” he spits. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really. Of course you weren’t having fun with me.”

“I am- I was. I do like this.” Breaking through his monologue, you keep his attention and step closer. “That’s why we need to stop. I like y- I like this too much.”

You stiffen as the confession falls out. The words are out and can’t be retrieved. There’s no room in your mouth to take them back anyways, so you release the rest of what you want to say.

“It’s hard to keep having fun with you when I want more.”

Buggy’s silent. His mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t make a sound. He stares at you, waiting for a punchline he knows isn’t coming. Your eyes aren’t glistening with laughter, but with something else.

“You want…more. What-” he swallows thickly, “do you want?”

The air in the room is heavy. You look away, following trails of fading smoke, before returning to Buggy’s expectant face. And lower, to his lips. The face paint is long faded, leaving behind a subtle stain. Your eyes flick back up just as he licks his lips. Those lips.

“I want you.” Your gaze moves down again. “I want all of you.”

Buggy’s body moves before he realizes it, reaching for you as soon as you finish speaking. Your lips taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of ash on your tongue. You’re delicious.

His hands cradle your face, holding you close so he can continue to relish a treat he’s thought about countless times before. You stumble back slightly, pushed by his greed. Hands clasp around his wrists, holding yourself steady and keeping his touch in place.

Neither of you are sure who pulled back first. It took a few tries before you successfully detangled from one another. A question hangs in the space between your bodies - do you still want more?

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. The muffled sounds are attractive and inviting. Yes, you want more. You both do. Buggy sits next to you. Following the movement of the sinking mattress, he leans against you and lets his head fall onto your shoulder.

His mind lags behind his body, continuing past the arc of his body and bypassing the containment of his head. Buggy’s thoughts pour through his skull, rushing so quickly that he can hardly tease them apart. Mixed within the surge are visions seen only in the depths of privacy. The false memories of your choked moans and flushed face rise to the top and his dick follows suit.

Even with a hazy mind, he wants to pay attention. To give attention to you and to the swelling between his legs. Shifting against you, Buggy presses his face against your neck, pushing his nose into you. You’re warm and smell good. Your skin is damp. He parts his lips and tastes the salt coating your body. While he wasn’t one for salt on apples, he enjoys the taste here.

The extra moisture left by his sloppy kisses is cooled by his heavy breathing. The change in temperature pulls a hint of a moan. Buggy’s cock twitches in response, begging for relief. Instead of giving in, his hand moves to touch your thigh. Voices tell him to squeeze. To grab you. To delve deeper. He settles for running a shaky hand up and down your leg.

The touch does little to soothe his need, to satiate his desire. The strain in his pants pulses and aches. Buggy grunts against your neck as he palms his erection. It’s so hard, it’s nearly painful. He whines as he realizes there isn’t enough give in the fabric of his pants to properly wrap a hand around himself.

His mind is quickly brought back to you with a click and the scrape of flint. You inhale deeply. The moment lasts forever as he watches little bits of flame escape and float away. Once your lungs are full, you pull Buggy’s face to meet yours.

Lips grazing each other, you exhale slowly. The smoke seeps from your mouth into his. Tendrils escape and dance up before he inhales your kiss. It’s slow and delicate. Hot, but not fiery. Buggy takes all that you give until his head is spun into cotton. Until he’s full of you.

A hand pushes his away to feel his desire. A heavy twitch against your touch conveys how badly he wants you. How desperately he needs you. A whimper escapes from his empty mouth when you squeeze slightly. A sound he repeats when you pull away entirely.

“Take off your clothes,” you tell him as you start doing the same.

The sound of pants being undone and falling to the ground isn’t new, but he feels the soft thumb reverberate in his heart. A heaviness that pulls him into action. Leaning back, Buggy fumbles with his belts and pants before scooting out of them and kicking off his boots in one motion. As he’s working on his vest, you peer over your shoulder and say he could keep that on. The softness in his request makes him even harder.

A curl of smoke catches Buggy’s attention. The wrapped ember glimmers and winks as its essence dances overhead, joining the rest of the heady fog. You pick it up, creating a connection that allows Buggy’s eyes to drift over your naked body.

Sun-kissed shoulders give way to your bare chest and soft stomach. He looks lower and lower, his hand following the path on his own body until he’s fondling and caressing himself in admiration of you. You’re better than any treasure map he’s seen - worthy of intimate study until he knows every curve, every valley and peak, every nook, absolutely everything until he’s committed you to memory.

Time flows inconsistently and Buggy’s not sure how long you let him touch himself while simply looking at you.

“Sorry, you’re-you’re just…wow,” he stammers awkwardly.

“Just wow,” you repeat with the smile that he’s only ever seen during the nightly sessions. “I didn’t see you as a man of few words.”

“Well, they say actions speak louder than words.” The teasing remarks ease any tension in the room.

With legs still hanging over the edge of the bed, Buggy leans back on his elbows. The movement allows his vest to fall open and expose his chest, while his thick erection rests against his lower stomach. You approach slowly and straddle his lap, finding a perfect seat on his thighs. Your ass is soft and warm against his skin.

You offer him the still burning ember, which he accepts. His body moves obediently, unable to do more than go with the flow of the evening. All of his senses are alight and high. It would be overwhelming if it wasn’t with you. Closing his eyes, Buggy takes another drag.

Meanwhile, he feels you drag yourself on his body. You position his sticky member against yourself, rubbing his leaky tip along the way. He cracks his eyes just as you slowly sink down. You gasp, just as he’s imagined, when his flared head stretches you open.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, releasing the smoke in his lungs.

A floating hand drops the burning herbs in the ashtray on the bedside table and then finds a spot on top of your thigh. His thumb rubs soft encouragement as your body adapts to his size.

“Y-you’re doing so good.”

Your body reacts to his praise, becoming intoxicatingly tight. The pressure from your legs outside of his increases. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, kneading out feelings of sensitivity as you sit flush on his cock.

Buggy is captivated by your expression - both focused and unfocused. Knitted brows caught between concentration and loss of control. Hazy eyes that flutter, unsure if they want to be open or closed. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth.

“S’big. Feels…feel really full.” The breathlessness behind your comment sends Buggy to the clouds.

Do you feel so full that you can hardly breathe? Does his cock take up that much space in your body? He throbs in your heat, straining against the confinement.

“You said you wanted more. Is it too much? M-more than you expected?” Buggy teases.

You let out a weak chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder. “No, I can do this.”

Committed to taking all you want, you start rolling your hips. Slowly at first, with Buggy’s floating hands following your movement. You grind harder as his grip increases. His fingers alternate between digging into your flesh and massaging out the bruising touches. Focused on staying within the boundaries of his restraint, Buggy doesn’t catch the sound of your voice the first time.

“Help,” you mumble again against his neck, “please.” Pushing yourself back, you look Buggy in the eyes. “Fuck me.”

If he didn’t always stave off his orgasms multiple times when handling his own business, Buggy would have exploded inside of you just then. Still, he would not be able to hold out much longer.

Sitting up, his arms move to connect with his hands, wrapping you in his embrace. He spreads his legs further to brace himself. With one arm around your waist and the other crossing your back to your shoulder, he fucks you the way you asked for. The way your moans beg for.

Buggy uses his hold to push you against his thrusts, burying his cock as deep as your body allows. But he wants more. He clings to you, pulling you closer to his chest, wanting to feel you everywhere. To continue having your lovely sounds brush past his ear, to have your hands threading his hair, to feel your body stick against his.

Floating in those thoughts, Buggy didn’t know how tight the tether holding his anchor was until it threatened to snap.

“S-shit, m’close. I’m gonna- fuck. Wh-where-” His movements falter along with his stutters.

The tension loosens slightly as you pull yourself off, but returns when you kneel between his legs. You wrap your hands around his cock, using the wet sex from both of your bodies to jack him off. Buggy struggles to keep his eyes open, wanting to remember every moment of this, rather than falling back into the fantasies he’s used to finishing too.

“O-open your mouth,” he begs.

You give him the most wonderful open-mouthed smile as you push out your tongue, eager for what’s next. A hold on your wrist pulls one hand down to cradle his balls. Your touch is gentle, following as his balls tighten and he falls over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Keep-keep going,” Buggy grunts as each stroke along his cock sends another jet of hot cum to cover your face and chest.

His orgasm directs your movements. As each pulse slows, so does the pumping, until the final one to ease the last few pearly drops onto your dripping fist.

Ignoring his body’s cry for rest, Buggy pushes himself forwards and lets his trembling legs drop him to the ground. You ease back to give him space.

“C’mere, I’m going to make you feel so good,” he says in a shaky voice.

He advances until you’re laying on the wood floor. He hovers over you, trailing a hand along your body until it’s between your legs. Your gasp is captured by his mouth and more sinful sounds are coaxed by his tongue.

You still taste like cinnamon. There’s a hint of salt, again. Not from your sweat, but from his cum. Fuck, it’s good. His tongue pokes out of your mouth to swipe long your lips, seeking more of that combined taste. Meanwhile, your grasp at his wrist and grind against his hand.

Buggy follows your cues - rubbing, teasing, increasing pressure, going faster, easing up - whatever you want. He’ll do this for as long as you’d let him and he wants you to know. But when he tells you to take your time, it has the opposite effect. You whimper and cry out as you come to his touch.

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job,” Buggy croons, carrying you through the wave, until it crests and you float back down.

You keep your eyes shut as you settle back into your body. You look wonderful. Dazzling. Breathtaking. Your chest is heaving and you’re coated in a sheen of sweat and strands of cum. His cum. His mark. A possessive fire lights in his chest.

“Just tell me whenever you want more,” Buggy says against your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulder and chest. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll take good care of you, promise.”

You laugh, seeing through the disguise of his kind ‘offer,’ to his own insatiable desire. The cooling liquid on your skin jostles with the movement, sending a shiver through your body.

Buggy moves closer to you, wanting to share his warmth and feel more of yours. Always, to feel more of you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Also, I'd like to draw attention to the end of "Great Romances of the 20th Century," since it fits so well:

I'm in your room Is this turning you on Am I turning you on? I'm in your room Are you turned on? I'm on the corner of your bed I'm thinking maybe Are you turned on? Are you turned on?

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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empressmcblondie · 21 days

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As you know I'm already down this Shauna and Jackie rabbit hole (this pun is absolutely intended), and so, I wanted to touch upon something else I've noticed. During 1x01, we see Shauna's rabbit collection, and obviously, in 1x06 Shauna receives a little ceramic rabbit from Mrs. Taylor under the impression that "Jackie just adored rabbits." Now... Shauna's facial expression in reaction to this statement is very telling. She plays along with whatever this is. Yes, Jackie adored rabbits, sure thing... And because of that, I adore rabbits now because I've become a Jackie substitute in the eyes of her bereaved parents. Initially I scratched this off as a mother who didn't actually know her teenage daughter well enough, which is pretty on brand. The Taylors give me perfect-on-paper-but-dysfunctional-in-reality energy with a lot of the tension coming from Jackie's relationship with her mother. Jackie herself denounces this connection to rabbits quite explicitly in the immediate scene that follows when she and Shauna go checking the traps, referring to the animal as a "squirrel with floppy ears and a pompom on its ass." Clearly, Jackie did not care for rabbits whatsoever. But... Where did Mrs. Taylor even get the idea that Jackie likes rabbits in the first place? It has to have come from somewhere, no? It did.

It most likely came from Shauna.

Shauna's room in 1x01.

You can see the small ceramic rabbit, strategically placed beneath the light in Shauna's room, linking her to the animal explicitly. It's not that Shauna took it upon herself to love rabbits because of Jackie's parents. It's that Shauna projected her own love for rabbits (to whatever length that went) onto Jackie. Just like with the journal in my previous post... Shauna is rewriting Jackie not just by taking on Jackie characteristics as her own, but by inserting her own characteristics into Jackie posthumously.

Shauna's confession of "I don't even know where you end and I begin" (also a Radiohead song) takes on a whole new layer of meaning. It's not just that Shauna doesn't know anymore... But we, the audience, don't either. It's becoming increasingly difficult to understand who Jackie is. What elements of Jackie's life are actually Jackie's doing and what are props, planted by Shauna... Small edits she makes to match the story that she tells herself in her own head. Anyways, as always, this show is a gift that keeps on giving.

#shaunajackie #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #yellowjackets

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germiyahu · 3 months

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I loved your post on affordable Judaica

Synagogues will have Shabbat siddurs, for everything else there's debit MasterCard a bunch of different, free, siddur apps. They have apps for the megillot, too, which I download ahead of each chag/fast for easy access. There's even an easy online page for funeral rites.

Fancy Kiddush cups tend to have either an annoying plastic insert or leave a metallic taste in your mouth. Lots of people I know have moved on to these stylized glass/crystal cups. Much less expensive, dishwasher safe, and equally beautiful.

also, if you sidle up to Israeli Tumblr or Facebook, you'll probably be able to find someone willing to mail you stuff and/or someone travelling who's able to bring you stuff. Judaica here is like shampoo—there's the fancy boutique stuff, but there's also supermarket brand things (literally; we bought our Hanukkiah in the supermarket) that are perfectly nice and perfectly affordable, but naturally don't ship overseas.

It can very well be considered צדקה to donate Judaica, so if you genuinely can't afford anything, and if you genuinely have nothing appropriate to use (though one of my classmates uses a ceramic mug he and his wife made on their honeymoon so the limit on what's appropriate is pretty far off in the distance), there is no shame in asking people for help.

You're not commanded to buy Yair Emanuel polished brass Tree of Life Shabbat candlesticks... you're commanded to beautify the Shabbat table. It's not about money, it's about what you find beautiful. What you find meaningful. I would recommend saving for a more expensive item, at least one, if you plan on starting a family, so that you have something to pass on to your kids. But at the end of the day, what's more valuable? A Kiddush cup made of real silver or real crystal, or the story behind your chintzy little ceramic mug that your grandchildren will be telling stories about?

At the very least, a benefit of being involved in a Jewish Community is you will inevitably interact with people of older generations, which I think a lot of Gen Z is just not really doing these days? These people have tons of experience and can give advice, for what to get and how to find it and how to budget for it.

Also a Shabbat siddur can get you through weekdays, depending on your level of observance. Especially considering most shuls don't even have weekday services, so the prayers you do at home are going to be similar, and the main difference from what I can tell is the Shabbat siddur has more in it, so it's a process of cutting out things you don't need on the weekdays. Again it depends on your stream and level of observance. But you are going to need a Machzor.

#judaica #judaism on a budget #gerim #jew by choice #jewish convert #jewish #jumblr

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aclassitag · 6 days

Text

Announcing Krem Week!

#kremweek2024 — 22-28 July 2024

background art credit: @freischutz [link to original post]

*text prompt list under the readmore

This year will mark 10 years since the release of Dragon Age: Inquisition! In celebration of that anniversary and the game that gave us our first trans character, here is a prompt list - and dates - for any who would like to participate! All sorts of creative content is accepted so long as they are not A/I generated. (See examples below)

*If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead, that is also fine!

Please read the guidelines!

If you have any questions, reply to this post and I will do my best to answer :)

Prompt list:

1 — Anniversary 2 — Euphoria / Expression 3 — Casual / Formal 4 — Family / Love 5 — Respite / Fight 6 — Play / Satiate 7 — (Free space!)

Guidelines:

Use the tag: #kremweek2024 (@ this blog is fine too) — If you want to portray Maevaris Tilani instead of Krem, that is also welcome! Please @ me so I can rb :) For non-Tumblr folks that somehow got here: You may post submissions, please link your socials. You may choose one of two prompts in a day or do both. You may also combine as many prompts as you want from any or all of the days into a single work, just mention it somewhere.

Types of content allowed:

Illustration and writing are the most obvious forms of art allowed, but they're not the only ones! Literary arts fanfics, drabbles, poetry, plays, lengthy headcanon/meta posts (for headcanon and meta posts, minimum of 100 words+) Visual arts doodles, paintings, graphic design, photoshop memes, photography, animation, tiktok skits, abstract, fiber arts (embroidery, knitting, etc), ceramics Audio art fanmixes(curated playlists), original or cover songs Other crafts are also welcome! e.g. culinary, resin, woodworking, etc etc ..essentially, whatever type of art it is, I'll accept it so long as it falls within rules and is related to Krem or Maevaris :) For things that are more abstract, do include an explanation of your thought process on how it relates to Krem. E.g. you made Krem's Seheron Fish Wrap or Rice Pudding, take photos of your cooking, and post that (with the explanation that it is Krem's recipes) - that's an acceptable submission! You're allowed to explore different mediums everyday! You don't have to stick to one form of art for the whole week. I will be attempting to schedule reblogs in the 'prime time' for engagement, and in the interest of fairness, things like headcanon posts, fanmixes, and WIPs will not take priority in that time slot over fully rendered illustrations or complete fanfics. They will still be reblogged, but scheduled for other time slots.

Content Rules:

No A/I generated content. (Specifically GenAI content) As above, any and all forms of art is welcome. It must be human made, and by you. The whole point of working off a prompt is to explore a creative process, anyway - do yourself a favour and just enjoy making something! It doesn't have to be pretty! No reposting of other people's works. This must be your own creation. Obviously, no transphobic content. No harrassing others over their specific headcanons - be it in regards to any trait or quirks that come with being a person. People come in all sorts of wonderful variety, please respect that. In addition to above: No whitewashing, racism etc. Please note that Krem is not pale-skinned in canon, and I will not be reblogging content of him being portrayed as pale. 18+ works need to be labelled. On this blog, its tagged as "#adult art". Please add content warnings as appropriate. (E.g. portrayal of binding with bandages should have a warning label of "cw: unsafe binding", etc.) If your post/submission is lengthy, please insert a read more. This helps readability on the dashboard. Progress / WIPs are fine too!

General tips:

First and foremost, do what you are able to! Don't feel pressured to complete a full week if you need to take care of yourself first. Some people work on the prompts before the week even begins, and only post it day of. You are not required to do this, but if you really want to fill something for each day, this helps reduce stress day of.

Mod things:

The mod isn't from the Americas, so due to timezone differences, there may be a delay in reblogging people's works. Either way I will not reblog the moment that it's posted in order to screen properly. Posts will be queued between 30mins-1hr apart, if there are multiple entries being submitted at the same time. All submissions will also be requeued after a week for later perusal :)

#cremisius aclassi #kremweek2024 #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #bull's chargers #iron bull #also i am. running out of krem posts. help #krem aclassi

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