#tips on diagraming im open for you

[inkedwingss]

i might or i might not be making my first ever poetry chapbook

[mariasont]

hi !!!!! i love your hotch x oc x reid fic so much, literally got to work late because you updated and i just HAD to read it when the notif came in !

can i request a kinda fluff-y turning to smut fic about maybe reader's small hands compared to spencer's large hands (his hands are so INTOXICATING).

maybe the fluff part can be kinda cute with their first time holding hands starting from that "oh lets compare hand sizes" and then intertwining fingers?? one of the best spencer fic tropes/hcs is when he's usually not enthusiastic abt touching but when its You he loves it and hes been so touched starved DHSKDHHD // and then the smut can kinda be like how reader's hands make his dick look huge (or smth! im sorry this is my first time requesting a fic!!)

i hope im not coming out as being too demanding !! you can have all the freedom w this !!!! sorry sorry for the long request 🙈🙈🙈

love your work !!! 😙

HANDS, HANDS, and HANDS-------------

A/N: AHHHH your mind!!!!! I LOVE IT <3

we need a whole episode just dedicated to his hands fr!

thank you so much for requesting and the kind words, I hope I did it justice <3 xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, hand kink, praise, size kink, m receiving oral, take a shot every time someone says sorry

wc: 1.9k

Your infatuation with Dr. Spencer Reid was an open book to everyone--damn profilers--well, everyone except the man of the hour, Dr. Reid himself. It was hard to say when it all started. Subtle changes crept in--the extra care you took in choosing your outfits to work; the way words suddenly became hurdles in conversations with him; the sensation of your heart nearly leaping out of your chest anytime he was in the vicinity. 

Despite your skills as a profiler, deciphering Dr. Reid was like trying to read braille through gloves. So, you pushed those feelings down, crushing them beneath a metaphorical heel to maintain professionalism. It wasn't exactly a successful strategy, but that wasn't the point. You reassured yourself that even if romance wasn't in the cards, friendship was the next best thing. And what a friend he was--remarkable in every way, which is why you found yourself here, in his apartment, dissecting case files together. It was a friendly gesture, surely, to escape the office when it becomes a little too suffocating. 

You felt your pulse race as he brought his fingers to his lips, preparing to sift through the stack of papers. A dryness clutched at your throat, fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, while you're sure your eyes betrayed a cartoonish adoration, practically orbiting with hearts. Forgotten was your own paperwork that now served as a makeshift blanket for your thighs, as he spoke. Your arm claimed the territory along the back of the couch, with your own hand gently propping up your check, a picture of relaxed attentiveness.

In the midst of his lecture about the golden ratio and its prevalence in nature, Spencer suddenly grabs a nearby book, flips to a diagram of a human hand, and says, "Did you realize that our hands are a prime example of this phenomenon? Give me your hand."

Your eyebrows knit together, your head angling subtly towards the boy genius. "Sorry, what?"

Without a word, Spencer lays your hand upon the diagram's expanse. Amidst the book, your hand seems smaller, delicate, a stark contrast the bold lines drawn on paper. 

He looks at you with a soft smile. "See, the size of one's hand doesn't really correlate with the golden ratio--it's more about the proportions within the hand itself. For instance, the length of your fingers compared to your palm, or the distance between the tip of your thumb and the tip of your pinky stretched out."

His hand leads yours across the pages, but you're barely registering the words. Instead, you're acutely aware of the warmth of his touch, causing your thighs to clench on their own accord, your mind tumbling over itself.

"Your hands are actually significantly smaller than the average," he comments, almost to himself. The statement is harmless, yet he finds his imagination wandering. He quickly refocuses, saying, "The range of hand sizes is quite broad, which is interesting biologically. Here--"

He extends his hand, palm open, beside yours--a natural extension of your conversation, yet he shifts slightly against the couch. Spencer was taken aback by his own actions. Physical touch was something he generally recoiled from, but here he was, seeking yours out. He realized this had become a habit, finding reasons to be near you, to feel your touch. Anytime there was something to be handed to you at work, he was quick to volunteer, all for the fleeting possibility of a brush of fingers.

He watched, captivated, as you aligned your palm with his, matching up the bottom of your palms. His attention was drawn to the stark difference between your hands; his, significantly larger, seemed to engulf yours entirely. He found the sight unexpectedly compelling. The disparity in size stirred his curiosity, leading him to wonder how your hand would look clasped around his cock.

His thumb grazed the back of your hand in a subconscious motion as he pondered out loud. "Did you know," he began, his voice sinking an octave, "that the ratio of the lengths of our second to fourth fingers is believed to correlate with various hormones, affecting the way we interact with others."

You found yourself holding your breath as you mapped the shape of your hands together, a subtle dampness beginning to form between your legs. This is what got you worked up? Clearly, you mused, getting laid was overdue. 

As if guided by a force beyond your control, your fingers gradually intertwined, each finger fingers its perfect counterpart. Recoiling as if from a burn, you realized the intimacy of the gesture, a rush of apologies escaping your lips. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

A blush crept up Spencer's neck as he hastened to interject. "No, no, it's completely fine, really."

The moment passed, and you both redirected your focus to the paperwork. Yet, the routine task did little to dispel the residual thoughts of his touch. The size difference, the feeling of his larger hand wrapping around yours, and how ideally his fingers would look pumping inside of you or wrapping around your throat. It all kept playing on your mind, a silent movie that you can't stop watching.

Spencer too, seems lost in thought, his gaze drifting from the files to your hands--manicured and delicate. He watches, seemingly without awareness, as those same hands idly toy with the hem of your skirt, or the way they spin your earring when deep in thought. To him, these minor actions have suddenly become fascinating.

Spencer's voice cuts through the stillness as he resumes his concentration on the work before him. "How do you interpret this?" he probes, touching a finger to a page of the file perched on his lap.

You lean in, curiosity leading you to reach for the file. Your actions freeze momentarily as your knuckles brush against his crouch. You pause, blinking deliberately, as you second-guess what you felt. He was hard as a rock.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, eyes growing wide with surprise. "Oh, um, sorry," you muttered. 

In a rapid movement, Spencer combed his fingers through his hair, causing the curls to obstruct his view. He snatched a pillow and tossed it in his lap, tilting his head back against the couch with a look of embarrassment. "No, I'm sorry, I, uh--"

Anticipating a scholarly lecture on the male hormones, you quickly interject. "Do you want help?"

Spencer's eyes grew wide as he regarded your face. Your lashes fluttered with a slow blink, your demeanor completely serious. His traced the flush of your cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, the accelerated rise and fall of your chest. His head tilted slightly, expecting the punchline to follow.

He let out a puff of air. "Do I want what?"

He noted your head tilting to the side, mirroring his own actions. Your hand reached forward, poised to replace the pillow on his lap. Your pinky dragged across the material of his jeans, moving with excruciating slowness. 

"That seems painful," you comment quickly, before your sudden courage fades. "Let can help."

You moved swiftly to his belt, and you could hear his breath hitch in short bursts. He murmured your name, his hand threading through your hair to grasp gently at the nape of your neck.

You shot him an innocent smile as you edged his pants down, just enough to access his boxers. Your smile made him believe he could come on the spot--the way you looked so eager, like you had been waiting for this. He let out a shaky breath as you released his length from his boxers.

You were engulfed in a dizzying feeling, your eyes widened to saucers as you seized his massive cock. "Holy shit, Spencer, you're huge."

You were barely aware of the words tumbling from your lips as you gawked. The impact on him was immediate, the intensity of your graze was maddening. Your small hands encircled his base, accentuating his size. His grasp on your neck grew firmer as he coaxed your head down. 

"Don't play," came his growl, so out of character. Warmth bloomed in your face, excitement bubbling in your chest as your thighs clasped together.

You flashed him a gentle, unassuming smile as you hastily took him in your mouth. You felt like a new person, an unprecedented need flowing through you.

Spencer let out a sharp hiss as your lips met his cock, taking him as far as you could. He mentally thanked whatever gods existed, unsure of what he had done to deserve this. His hands deftly collected your hair in his grasp, aiding you in guiding him even deeper. His breaths hastened as he praised, "Good god, baby."

His words only egged you on, your movements turning sloppy as you bobbed up and down, working every inch of his cock. You never knew sucking a man off could be so enjoyable. You wanted to savor the moment, to savor him. You encircled the based with your other hand, granting yourself reach to what had been inaccessible to your mouth as you started to synchronize your movements.

"Look at you," Spencer muttered hoarsely, his gaze flickering to your hands. Those damn hands, they looked so perfect around him, even better than he imagined. "You look like you were made for this."

You moaned around him in response, the slickness between your legs starting to drop down your thighs upon his praise. This elicited a hiss from him, tightening his grip in your hair as he drew you away from his throbbing cock, spit trailing from your mouth as you separated. 

"Wha-?" Your question hung in the air, marked by the crease of your confusion on your forehead. 

He didn't let you finish, simply stating. "On your knees."

Without hesitation, you followed his direction, your hands clasped in anticipation as you moved from the couch to the floor, your balance settling back into your heels as he towered over you. "Open."

You complied with his command, easing your jaw as he guided himself onto your tongue. A soft moan escaped you, enveloping his cock. He coaxed his length into your mouth, your hands steadying on his thighs as he all but used your face.

Spencer's hands cradled your face, fully encompassing your cheeks as he thrusted into your mouth. His pulse thundered at a pace he hadn't thought possible, and fuck, he wouldn't mind if this was how death welcomed him. There you were, on your knees, so compliant around his cock. His breaths grew rapid as your nails trailed up his thighs. 

"You're so good," he muttered, eyes casting down upon you, your glazed expression, the drool peeking out from the corners of your lips. "So good. 'M so close."

He moves to withdraw from your mouth, but your hands find their way to the back of his thighs, holding him in place, denying his escape. He exhales a deep, unrestrained moan, thrusting into your mouth once more, shallowing moving as the warm liquid fills your mouth. 

He gazes, spellbound, as you swallow his come completely, your head lolling back in total bliss. In that instant, he realizes his willingness to do anything to keep you close, to see you like this--spent, disheveled, and content.

Breaking the silence, you ask, "Did that help?" His laughter, soft and subdued, fills the air as he reaches out, cupping your cheeks once more. He descends to meet you, his kiss messy and desperate, finding the taste of himself lingering on your lips as his hands untangle your knotted hair. 

"You're amazing," he exhaled, their lips parting. "Now, let me return the favor."

[oleanderblume]

WARNING IM GONNA POST A DIAGRAM OF GENETALS.

So...I designed a Packer.

This is ENTIRELY EXPERIMENTAL I have no idea if this actually works because I've not tried to make anything out of it. It's 100% theoretical.

But anyways, here's the basic concept of my dumb penis idea.

It's a all in one Packer that's supposed to be for folks without bottom surgery in really any form or fashion. Bottom surgery is expensive so a vast majority of ftm and transmasc folks don't have access to that sort of thing. But we like having dicks obvi.

Themain issue I see with almost *every* Packer, is that they 1. Leak and 2. Are too complicated to use for sexy times.

The 3rd thing is specifically about the dysphoria of not being able to y know, cum...when you come. Often times you gotta do a bit of extra stuff that can interrupt the moment especially if you haven't charged your dick or refilled those tiny reservoirs with lube.

Most packers involve shoving rods in them, lube in them, changing out your STP for a pack and play, so on and so forth. It would be phenomenal to not have to do that, right?

So my design is supposed to fix all these problems. Inside the testes and lower half of the shaft is a reservoir full of theoretically a light and easily movable substance. My go to options are oil (because it's lighter than water and still relatively dense) and Oobleck. (Yeah, you know, the mix of cornstarch and water that solidifies with pressure).

Whichever it is, it sits in a small, wide chamber in the balls that, when pressed, shoots into a second, more narrow chamber in the shaft of the penis. And these chambers are sealed with a flexible magnetic strip that can be opened by squeezing the base of the shaft. (Like when you squeeze the ends of two rubber strips together toward the center and it opens like a mouth.) Ideally, it would be simple, discrete, and relatively quick.

Underneath this valve system is a layer of gel that holds the testes, to maintain the shape and feel of balls even while erect. And UNDERNEATH THAT is a tube that runs along the base of the balls (anatomically where an AMAB person's testicular seam would be naturally) and that tube runs from the tip of the glans all the way to the anchor.

Which I what I'm gonna talk about next.

So, one of the most annoying things about packers is that you gotta hold that shit in and up to your junk to keep from leaking, no matter how much a "seal" it has, it's rarely enough. Realmagick has themost form fitting packer out there on the market, but it still doesn't do the best of jobs if you're not actively holding your balls while peeing.

My design amends this issue by having a whole ass insert that functions similarly to a tampon, but does much more. For now it's called the vaginal anchor, but I'm just gonna say anchor for short.

So what does it do? Well...

1. Creates a full seal to prevent leakage.

2. Provides extra support for holding the packerin place

3. Provides simultaneous ejaculation with climax during intercourse

4. Provides extra sensory stimulation during penetrative intercourse

How does it work? Really fucking simple actually. It's nothing more than a silicone suction tube. A small bulb sits at the base of the testicles (this is the *actual* anchor) the bulb itself is hollow and connected to the tube that runs along the base of the whole system. When the penis tip is placed in a cup of lube and the bulb is squeezed, the lube is sucked through and into the bulb. (Alternatively a syringe in combination with the squeeze does the trick too)

While the Packer is on and the bulb is inserted, if one is doing sexy stuff, the bulb presses into the gspot, and when one reaches climax and the pelvic floor naturally contracts, the pressure pushes out the lube, thus creating a realistic and simultaneous ejaculation.

And cleaning the inside is just as easy and refilling. Just soapywater and a similar few squeezes with flush out anything inside.

When not doing sexy stuff, the bulb is supposed to be barely even noticeable, made of soft medical grade silicone.

Cleaning is meant to be as easy as a couple extra steps in the shower~

I haven't quite come up with how to make it attachable in such a way where it involves very little yet, but my ideas are the following.

Adhesives: of course, the front part of the Packer can easily be designed to attach with Adhesives, but ideally I want to make it so it can be worn for extensive periods of time and not potentially cause irritation. Adhesive is definitely going to be a primary option.

Piercings: so, this one is *iffy* because the rate of rejection for piercings and the lack of education I have on them. The idea I have though, is that the wearer could have 2 deep set bar piercings and the silicone Packer will have corresponding openings (its silicone so it's stretchy to a degree) the balls of the piercing (provided the bar is long enough to have some separation from the skin I imagine) are simply poked through the silicone and functionally hold the tab in place.

If piercings are the way one goes, the seam of the Packer that runs around the outer labia can also have optional piercings to connect to, and theoretically the weight is distributed evenly across the anchor and these piercings and also provide physical sensation in correspondence to that weight.

Anyways. I've been thinking about this for days and I'm going on vacation soon so I'll fuck with the idea when I'm off the road. Ftm and trans masc people I would like your opinions on this. If it's something you'd like to have exist, then I'll try and get manufacturers on the idea. That or just sell the design to custom creators for manufacturing(?)

I for one don't really have dysphoria about a vajeen or things being in it. And having a realistic peen definitely outweighs what dysphoria I *do* have over it. Plus like, some people are gay???? All the packers I see are very heterosexual focused and I don't really understand why this concept hasn't been applied previously (if it has I don't knowwhos doing it lol)

So like, if no one is down I still wanna make this shit for me lol.

[havenoffandoms]

also this “You fainted… right into my waiting arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” geralt x fem!reader if im not annoying u by now omg

Nonnie, you’ll never annoy me by sending in these requests <3 I managed to get this written before class, so it’s a bit on the shorter side. But it’s cute and fluffy, so it really put me in a good mood to start the day. I hope you enjoy it. 

Tumblr Request Masterlist

Warnings: brief mention of fainting, otherwise none. 

Toussaint is notoriously hot in the summer, but even though you were prepared for that eventuality, you seriously underestimated just how unbearable the temperatures could get. You wipe the sweat beading on your forehead with the back of your hand. Even the flowy material of your skirt doesn’t help, and the mosquitos that keep buzzing irritatingly close to your ear do precious little to improve your rapidly souring mood. You huff out a breath and reach for the waterskin at your hip. You know you should ration water as much as you can, but you’re just so thirsty you can’t help yourself.

“How much further until we reach Corvo Bianco?” you ask Geralt, who is trudging behind you and leading Roach by the bridles. You feel your heart go out to the poor mare - if you’re suffering that much from the heat, you can only imagine how Roach feels. You dart a glance over your shoulder at Geralt, clicking your tongue disapprovingly as you once again take in the sight of his black armour. “You know, Geralt, since you insist on spending most of your free time in Toussaint now, you should really invest in more appropriate clothing.” 

“Hm. I have some diagrams for sleeveless Cat witcher armour somewhere.”

“Now there’s a thought,” you turn around to face the road again, your hand coming up to wipe your forehead again. You try not to think too much about Geralt in sleeveless armour. “How much further then?” 

“Not long, dove. We’ll get there by sundown.”

“Sundown?!” you exclaim loudly, suddenly coming to a halt and whirling around to shoot Geralt an exasperated glare, “Geralt, I can’t! It’s too damn hot, I’m thirsty and sweaty, and all I want to do is jump in the nearest lake and go for a swim.” 

Geralt frowns at your sudden outburst, but when he takes in the sight of you - sweaty, flushed and irritable - he decides that perhaps a break is not the worst idea. He offers you a bashful smile, his eyes crinkling adorably at the gesture. Sometimes you forget just how old Geralt is; the wrinkles always take you by surprise. 

“I suppose we could stop for a while to refresh ourselves.” Geralt stills as he takes in his surroundings. Years of travelling by his side has taught you how to recognise the signs of Geralt tapping into his witcher mutations for location and tracking purposes. He’s probably listening for the soft splashing of water against the bank, or trying to pick up the smell of bloodmoss which tends to grow near lakes and other bodies of water… whatever clue Geralt is hoping to pick up, it does not take him long to point west. “This way. There should be a lake close by.” 

As you and Geralt head in the direction he pointed you in, you start to feel slightly light-headed from the heat. You think nothing of it as you take another swig of water, less mindful of the fact that it might have to last you another while. If you’re heading towards a lake, you’ll be able to fill up your waterskin with fresh water… or sun-warmed water, more like. The thought almost makes you whine in frustration, but you bite back the petulant noise. Geralt is trying so hard to keep you happy, you don’t want to undermine his efforts. 

Soon, you catch a glimpse of the lake through the row of trees. The deep blue surface shimmers in the sun, occasionally blinding you and forcing you to look away when the light catches the water’s surface just so. You allow a small smile to tug at your lips as relief washes over you. You simply can’t wait to jump into the lake and wash off the sweat and grime of the road. Just as you and Geralt reach the shore, your entire world starts to spin so fast you find yourself pinching your eyes shut to ground yourself. You try to warn Geralt of your sudden dizziness, your hand blindly reaching for any surface to brace yourself on. The nearest surface happens to be Geralt, whose black armour feels almost scaldingly hot to the touch. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” you vaguely hear Geralt ask you before you lose your footing and stumble over your own feet. You expect to land on the sandy shore, but just as you collapse you feel strong arms wrap around your waist and shoulders. You manage to blink your eyes open, taking several seconds to adjust to the glare of the sun. You see Geralt gazing down at you, his amber gaze alight with worry as he gently lowers you down to the ground. 

“Oh. What… what happened?” you ask, feeling slightly disoriented. 

“You fainted… right into my waiting arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 

You weakly punch Geralt’s arm in retaliation and your action pulls a breathless chuckle from your lover. Geralt positions himself so that he’s shielding you from the sun, his hands instantly grabbing the waterskin at your hip. He clicks his tongue impatiently when he realises that you emptied its contents already, then reaches for his own waterskin, still nearly full. He brings the nozzle to your mouth and gently supports your head so you don’t choke on the liquid flooding your mouth and running down your throat. You should find the act of Geralt feeding you water mortifying, and under any other circumstances you would fight him and stubbornly snatch the waterskin from him. 

But, admittedly, it’s nice to be doted on once in a while. Besides, you’re far too hot to move even a muscle. You’re beginning to understand why Toussaintois hide in the coolness of their homes most of summer. 

“Enough, I’ve had enough,” you croak out after Geralt forced half the waterskin down your throat, “thank you, Geralt.”

“Are you feeling better?”

You take inventory of your body, making sure your head stopped spinning before attempting to sit up. You shield your eyes from the sun and offer Geralt the most genuine smile you can manage. 

“I feel better now after my knight in … scalding armour came to my rescue.” 

Geralt huffs out a small laugh before leaning in to steal a kiss from you. 

“I wish you’d told me how much you were suffering from the heat. I would’ve stopped sooner. Or at least, I would’ve tried to find a shaded path.” 

“Really? The constant huffing and complaining didn’t tip you off?” you mock him gently. 

“It really should’ve, huh?” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him, leaning in to kiss his stubbly cheek affectionately. “It should’ve. But I’ll forgive you, my dearest, silly witcher. But for now, I am dying to get into that lake.” 

Geralt doesn’t have to be told twice.

[i-like-sparkly-things]

Halstead!Sister 🦄

Anotherr fanfic of a Halstead sister.🥳🥳

Cut the phone!

Warnings : The usual WWE between siblings. Screaming, swearing, bickering and embarrassment also included.

Summary : Jay and lily get into a fight resulting in lily, calling hailey and revealing Jay's feelings for her.

Word count : kinda long but you'll be okay.

Will :26

Jay :24

Lily: 12

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily : no its not. It looks fine!

Will : The right artrium is too big. *Will and jay were sitting on the counter when lily showed them the diagram she had drawn. The assignment was to draw and label the human heart.* And the proportions are weird. I've seen a real heart lily...... Yours looks like an obese toad.

*Jay laughs at the comment and snatches the sheet of paper from lilys hand.*

Jay : Yup. A red and blue obese toad.

Lily : Hey give that back!!..... I need to submit it today.. !!!

*Jay held it high in the air with one hand and pushed lily back with the other. He laughed knowing his sister was getting annoyed. As he lowered the paper down, still pushing lily back, he tipped over his morning coffee, ruining lily's diagram.*

Lily : Oh my God! JAY!!!!!! *She ran to her diagram, now completely soaked* YOU RUINED IT!!!!!!

Jay : Who cares..... it was ugly anyways??

Lily : It was my assignment jay!!!

Will : Relax you can draw another one....

Lily : No, I cant! I dont have time!! *Jay left a small chuckle. He loved seeing her frustrated and enjoyed every bit of it. *Ugh. You know what I'M CALLING HAILEY!

Jay : What?. *Lily ran to her room and locked it. Jay ran right behind her but was seconds late.* NO! LILY LISTEN TO ME! *Jay could hear her clicking on the phone.* FUCK! *He pounded on the door*

Lily : hailey!

Hailey : Lily is something wrong? Are you okay?

Lily : Ya, I'm fine. How are you? *Purposely speaking loudly.*

Jay : *on the other side of the door. * Lily! Cut the phone right now! *He pounds on the door more*

Hailey : Whats going on?

Lily : nothing....

Jay : LILY I WILL-

Lily : Hailey, Jay has a HUGE crush on you!

*Lily opened the door with a proud smile on her face, only to be picked up by her brother and thrown on the couch.*

Jay: Are you crazy?!? Give me your phone! *Jay tackled her and had his arm around her neck.*

Lily : never!

Hailey : *on the other side of the phone, laughing.* Lily! Oh my god!

*Jay grabbed the phone and cut the call and threw it to another chair.*

Lily : haha, hailey knows you love her! *She pulled jays hair wanting him to let go of her.*

Jay :ow! *Jay knew he had to show up to work. He couldn't face hailey. Lily had screwed it all up*

Will : Lily, What the hell did you just do?

Jay : *a notification popped up on his phone. *. God, i need to go. *He frantically let go of lily causing her to fall to the ground.*

Lily :ahh!

Jay : I WILL KILL YOU WHEN I GET BACK! *He grabs his coat*

Lily : So it's a date!

*Jay slams the door and walks out.*

Will : * looks at lily lying on the floor. * Seriously?

Lily : What?...HE was the one who soaked my picture

*Will notices that lily's wrist is getting red. He gets up from his chair.*

Will : lily are you okay?

Lily : *she was having too much fun. She knew How embarrassed Jay would be.* What? *She lifted her right arm. *Ahh! Ow!

Will : * crouches near lily.* Show me.... *He lifts her wrist.*

Lily : Oww!! STOP! *she immediately pulls her hand back. It felt like a nail was being hammered in to her arm.* Stop poking it!

Will : Just let me see... I think you broke your wrist.

*Will makes her sit on the couch as he gets his bag.*

Lily : Willll im okayyy........

Will : Listen, all I'm gonna do is give you some lidocaine and wrap up your wrist okay?

Lily : Ugh. Fine, but i gotta get to school soon. *Will examines her hand and takes out an injection and loads it with lidocaine.* Will seriously.....come on.....

Will : It's going to be fine. *Lily flinches as she feels the needle hit her skin and she tries to move and take her hand away.* Lily don't shake. There, it's over. It's over. *Lily lets out a sigh.*

*It didn't take too much time for Will to wrap up lily's wrist.*

~~~~Later that day~~~~

*Jay walks through the door and is immediately confronted by his mom, glaring at him.*

Mama : Jay Halstead! *She grabs Jay's ear and he flinches.*

Jay :Ah! Mom! I didn't even do anything?!?

Mama : So, you didn't break your sister's wrist?

Jay :Shit. I barely toched her! *Mom pinches his ear harder*

Mama : JAY!

Jay : Sorry.. Sorry..... she called hailey and told her.....

Mama : *lets go of his ear.* I don't care. Remember YOU are older jay! Go say sorry to her. *She goes inside. Jay lets out a sigh and enters lilys room, only to find her laying under her bed.*

Jay : Lily?

Lily : Go away. I'm not talking to you.

Jay : You wanna hear some good news?

Lily : No.

Jay : Hailey and I are having breakfast tomorrow.

Lily : WHAT!?! *from excitement, she banged her head on the undeside of the bed* Oww!!

Jay : Would you get out of there?

Lily : No. And you should be thanking me.

Jay : Ptffff.... Just come out *Jay saw her legs under te bed and dragged her out. Lily still stayed on the floor, not looking up at jay.*

Lily : Go away.

Jay : You know what? Lets go out and buy some food, okay ? You can choose.

Lily : No. You go alone.

Jay : You can sit in the front seeeat......*he smirked, knowing lily would cave. *

*Lilys' eyes widened at the thought. She never got to sit in front. Jay and Will never let her.*

Lily : Really?

#jay×will #halstead!sister #halstead!sister oneshot #halstead!sister imagine

Jay : Just for once..... Since you got me breakfast with hailey 😉

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

If you are bored out of your mind : Masterlist here

#halsteadimagines

[werebutch]

friendship guide

mostly for online friendships since im best at these, i struggle a lot w irl ones & im sure a lot of us do haha. most of my meaningful friendships r online

1) put yourself out there. its very hard to meet ppl by waiting for them to come to u. actively try to put yourself in social situations (i do this by talking in discord servers about my interests, servers can be kind of wild so if one is making you uncomfortable or stressed in any way leaving is OK). i have recommendations for some nice friendly servers, i mod some too and i do my best to keep them friendly

2) there is so much to talk about in the world! im not the best at conversations but expressing your feelings and pointing out whatever u can think of that is related to a convo works! i just talk about stuff i like and convos happen!

3) dont build a friendship that is based on venting to each other or complaining constantly about life. while venting and being vulnerable about your issues is good for building a strong friendship, having that be 100% of a relationship destroys it. its a bad habit

4) work on your self esteem (i can also give tips for this!) it makes you a naturally attractive person & makes it easier for people to approach you! it's hard to talk with people who self-deprecate a lot

5) Let them be there for you, good friends care about you and it is important to let yourself be cared of by them. the same goes the other way too: if you are in an OK mental state and feel comfortable doing so, being there for your friends is important (dont let this be mentally taxing for u)

6) use their name in sentences! idk exactly why but its a scientifically proven thing that it makes ppl like u more!!

7) if a person belittles you, makes you feel small, makes you feel like you are too much or not enough, is rude to you, shits on your passions and dreams, leave. it is not worth it to develop a relationship with people who are make you feel unworthy

8) compliment ppl! small things and whatever you can think of ! It makes people happier than you think! "I like your name/you are fun to talk to/your art is pretty" literally anything you think is cool, feel more than free to point it out, chances are it will make them happy :-)

9) ACCEPT COMPLIMENTS! it is hard to talk to people who fight against compliments or deny them! even if you absolutely dont believe the compliment, say "thank you", force it out, it does wonders for your self esteem in ways u dont even understand. This helped save my relationships

10) dont be afraid to talk abt deep (?) stuff, i know ppl have different levels of vulnerability they are comfortable with doing, but if your friends are good, they will do their best to accept you at your most vulnerable states. if you open yourself up and are hurt/mocked, thats a bad friend

11) having stuff in common is good, but being opposites does not mean its not gonna turn out! SO many of my friends are wildly different from me and each other, & we learn from what the other doesnt have all the time. every relationship is a venn diagram. u have similarities and differences. & Thats ok!

dont put urself down if these are hard at first, it takes practice and trying and doing your best, but they are absolutely do-able and they do wonders even if very small/simple. i have very meaningful friendships from doing these things.

also u absolutely dont have to but if u wanna b friends i am here too ! its ok if not :-)

friendships are about sharing the joy of life together i think.. but you should have your own passions/hobbies/goals/etc outside relationships (i can try to give advice on this) it gives you autonomy (and also makes you more attractive to friendships so thats a plus haha)

thank u anon :)!! anyone feel free to rb this if u want lol

[thesorrowoflizards]

we need to talk more about magnus and potions tbh. like ok a) he’s a genius, and this is like cooking and chemistry and science and magic you know???? he’s got his own flair and touches (like cooking, adding spices by heart or having certain signatures/flairs by cook) and he’s a genius coming up with new potions and balancing ingredients and figuring out magical/chemical effects.....

b) magnus and trying to figure out sensory stuff like how to make potions taste better or like. less of that gross mouth feel you know. but also like potions that can help with sensory problems or whatever so something can taste/feel like something it isn’t for people who have sensory issues (like @tothetrashwhereibelong‘s post about something that tastes like chocolate but isn’t for werewolves?) or just things like overstimulation.

also picturing him adding something that makes it look cooler just for fun. like something harmless but it makes it glow, just because it feels cool and good to pour a glowing beaker into another. that’d be fun

ALSO C) COOL BOTTLES COOL BOTTLES COOL BOTTLES

magnus loves finding like cool old bottles or like neat perfume bottles (thoroughly cleaned obvs) or even like. imagining he befriends some glassblower (picturing a warlock for some reason--latest hyperfocus or lifelong obsession? unsure) who he has a deal with and he gets some cool wild-ass but practical bottles from, and he just loves getting neat wacky bottles for potions and sure he has some more plain practical ones for some things but like also. it’s nice to have some cool nice bottles you know im just saying 

and d) let’s get back to magnus being a genius like obviously i dont know how magic works but magnus writing a fuckin grimoire cookbook for potions. im kind of picturing he writes it just for himself--he finds a nice leather bound notebook or whatever and he started scribbling in it like a century ago and its held together by magic and that’s pretty much it (this also applies to his spellbook, or maybe they’re one and the same?) and it was just notes for him, scribbling down recipes so that he wouldn’t forget with notes in the margins when he tried variations on the theme, or an idea of what he might try next time (sometimes crossed out with a scorch mark and labelled in red “DON’T ADD THAT AGAIN”) and like just little scribbled paragraphs about ideas he has for what ingredients might integrate well, or what might work in a spell, what potions could be safely combined and which ones should never be, ideas for spells that could be intertwined or used together, or whatever else

like just. ideas, doodles, scribblings and jottings of various thoughts and possibilities. and to him its just like. notes. like yeah i scribble some ideas in there, or record things i don’t want to forget haha. and then someone peeks in it and is like “what the FUCK” because there’s like revolutionary research that he’s just absently scribbled on a cocktail napkin and stapled in there or some shit. like his first idea for the portal is in here. potions no one’s thought of and spell combinations no one’s been able to make work before. sure there’s a lot of helpful tips or random doodles of his friends or a cat he saw or a sunset, but like, there’s also diagrams of how to open a dimensional portal or recipes for potions that should be impossible or whatever because he’s a fucking genius 

possibly there are multiple ones, like editions, he’s just got a shelf of messy grimoires 

they’re not super well organized, there’s no chapters or anything, but god if he compiled them all he could make some truly mindblowing research but like half of it he’s just like “oh it’s no big deal, just a little helpful potion i don’t see the fuss” (researcher behind him ripping her hair out: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN) or he genuinely doesn’t realize it’s not something people have figured out before, and the other half the time he’s like oh that’s just a messy theory i’ve thrown together it’s not finished, it’s really a mess and there’s quite a few holes in it and the warlock looking at it says faintly “this completely and conclusively disproves a major theory in the field and sets the groundwork for something revolutionary” and magnus is like i dont know about that

ok that might not be entirely accurate bc magnus is likely well read and you know he’s not dumb, but also he’s very good at underestimating his worth?? maybe at first it was like that but later he was like... *looks down at personal grimoire* hm. may have accidentally, uh. reinvented magical science. oops

also magnus writing textbooks and research papers and like handbooks/guides or grimoires to be published/reproduced on purpose so like organizing them and getting together all his notes on certain topics like here’s a bunch of cool potions/illusions/spells to help with passing/dysphoria and the like as a trans person :) or whatever and they’re actually quite helpful dfglkjdfgd people would kill to get their hands on an original bane grimoire but they’re obviously well protected bc you know. magnus bane and all 

also picturing alec looking thru them just treating them with a sort of gentle reverence, turning old yellowed pages with a sort of tender awe and looking at magnus’s words from maybe centuries ago, at his little notes and a doodle of a flower and scribbled notes in margins of experimental potions and the like, and hes just like “god my boyfriend is so smart” but also it’s kind of cool seeing this kinda history, and he’s one of the few to look at magnus’s first grimoire which is more like the tattered remains of the centuries-ago equivalent of a one dollar spiral notebook with a harried mix of beginners stuff/basic rules scribbled right alongside the beginnings of some thoughts that’ll lead to some crazy shit + possibly shit asmodeous taught him that’s a little darker and more complex and stuff so it’s like “here’s a sigil from the darkest depths of hell that only like two people alive have heard of and here’s the basic rules a 12 year old could understand of not fucking up a potion on the same page” and alec tracing the words a very young magnus wrote... over it in the air, not the actual paper, because maybe magic is preserving it but he couldn’t bear to risk smudging the ink of something so precious--not because alec particularly cares about crazy bonkers magic magnus wrote down, although it’s kinda cool, but because this is magnus’s history, it’s precious to him not because of some ancient sigil or spells straight from edom no one but asmodeous could have known then, but because magnus wrote this centuries ago and he’s kept it this long, kept it safe, and it matters to him. this isn’t magical history to alec, it’s magnus’s history, which is so much more important.....

ok this kinda got away from me on the potions aspect but magical scholar magnus is also something we need to see more often tbh. i’d kill for him like, being a professor at magical school in the spiral labyrinth or something, that’d be hella cool. i mean obviously being high warlock is something he loves but also him being a professor--both doing research and helping young warlocks learn and grow--would be so good for him too you know? fuck god i love this

ALSO DAMN RIGHT MAGNUS’S ADHD COMES INTO THIS FUCK YEAH BABEY. hyperfocusing on whatever newest project and filling an entire book with it? hell yeah! but also leaping from subject to subject resulting in very disorganized and leaping around in the grimoires? (one page: new symbols to safely encircle demons in a summoning circle, most effective against demons with this particular magical signature. next page: potion that can help grow certain kind of flower that normally flourishes best in consistent moonlight, only possible in time-stopped places/bubbles or the seelie realm. next page: skywalking/realm travel without a portal (very dangerous!!). next page: curing cat allergies temporarily. etc.) and like part of the reason he is so good at this is he makes connections no one else sees or leaps between topics most wouldn’t ever think of at the same time, and he has obscure but detailed knowledge on random shit that comes in handy sometimes, and like. just. ADHD MAGNUS + MAGICAL ACADEMIC SCHOLAR MAGNUS. AAAAAAAAA

[silver-greedling]

I'd love to request some more fluff with Al if that is okay? ^^ Any sort of fluff is fine! Thank you in advance.

Of course i will! Al is such a sweet boy, he deserves all the love qwq

Thanks for the ask, by the way! I havent gotten asks and requests in quite some time! Im glad to work on one for you! Please tell me if this is good enough, and if there are any mistakes i need to fix! Love you lots!!!

Down by the River

Alphonse Elric x Reader for Anon

If the people of Resembool hadn't been so familiar with Al's armor body, the sight of a suit of armor drawing in the sand next to the river would have been quite strange. His knees were hugged up to his chest, held there by one hand, while the other drew familiar diagrams on the ground. Once his open palm laid on them, they flashed with light and turned the sand into little figures.

"Did you fight with Ed again?" He must not have heard my approach, because he nearly jumped straight into the air.

"Uh, something like that, I guess," he mumbled, the sound echoey and resonating against his metal body. He started to trace another symbol in the sand as I folded my legs beneath me, sitting at his side as he created more figurines.

"What did Ed say that made you leave?" When I reached out to touch his hand, he jumped again, pulling it back as if I was made of fire.

"N-Nothing! He didn't say anything!"

I raised an eyebrow. "That's weird, because Ed told me where you were hiding because you got in a fight about him talking to Winry."

Al went silent, legs now outstretched in front of him with his hands rested in his lap, thumbs twiddling in a nervous manner. "...yeah, there was that..." His voice got quieter as he avoided my gaze.

A sigh escaped me as I laid my hand on his shoulder. He froze, and I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "You can tell me anything, Al."

"...anything?"

"Anything."

He rose to his feet, and I followed him, now standing face to face with him.

"The truth is...Ed and I were fighting because he wouldn't confess to Winry...and then he said I couldn't say anything because...I still haven't confessed to you..."

My heart thudded in my chest. This couldn't be real. My childhood crush wants to confess to me?

"I've liked you for a little while, but I didn't want to say anything until I get my body back. I was gonna wait until then, so-"

"Al, it's okay." He stopped talking. It was so confusing, not seeing his expression, not knowing what he was thinking. "I like you, too."

"Really?!" Pure joy and excitement laced his words, reminding me of when we were kids and I promised to play games with him.

I nodded in response, smiling.

His hands grabbed mine, pulling me a little closer to his silver steel body. "Then I want to make a promise!" He squeezed my hands a little bit, almost in a reassuring way. "When I get my body back, I'll come right back to you and confess for real, okay?"

Smiling, I stood on the tips of my toes, barely able to press a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. "It's a promise, then."

~~~

Blond hair swayed in the wind, catching the breeze and letting it filter through the locks of gold. He stood there, back straight and rigid, like a wall. There was an air of resolve and a slight hint of confidence surrounding him.

"You wanted to meet me here?" I asked quietly. He turned around, startled. The confidence and resolve all but vanished when he looked at me. "You told me to dress nice, so..." The dress was one I'd had for a couple years, so it was a little shorter than when I first got it. Even so, it cinched my waist without being too tight, and, at the very least, it covered down to my knees.

"I-It looks great!" Al stuttered, face a deep red as he tried desperately to avoid my eyes. "You look amazing!"

"So, what did you need?" I got straight to the point, even though I was sure I knew what he wanted to talk about.

He chewed his lip, looking around like he was searching for the words, and the river would give him his answer. "Well, I...I made a promise to you here a few years ago..."

One of his hands took mine, and I smiled, stepping closer to him. "I remember that promise. That was one of the happiest days of my life."

If it was possible, the red and his face darkened even more, and I had to physically bite back a little laugh at his state. "I...I mean...I'm not gonna...I won't break that promise!"

He took both of my hands and pulled me to stand directly in front of him. Even with his face so red, and his hands so sweaty, and his voice so shaky, he was still very much the child I had fallen for, but he'd changed. He was older, now. Alphonse was an adult, and he was trying his best to take it seriously.

"So, I'm gonna make another promise," he told me, no longer yelling since we were so close to one another. "If you let me, I promise that I'll stay by your side for the rest of my life!"

My heart soared at his words, and I must have smiled, because he did the same. "Of course, I'll let you," I said. "I love you so much, Al." With all the courage I had, I leaned in to press a feather light kiss to his lips.

Just as his face had started returning to normal, it was crimson, again, and I couldn't stop from laughing this time. Instead of shying away, Al pulled me to him in a hug, his nose pressed into the curved of my neck.

"Thank you, so much," he said softly. "For everything. I love you."

[wri0thesley]

HI WELCOME BACK IM GLAD YOU CAN WRITE AGAIN😭 could do nsfw hcs for Melone and his s/o trying to keep quiet while the kids are home (mostly funny and crack not sexy sexy lmao) thank you for getting to this request 💞

This is all Melone’s fault for wanting a lot of kids. If you’d stopped at one, maybe you could have settled them down in their bedroom with an episode of Peppa Pig turned up loud whilst you and Melone got down to business with your door open just a crack in case you and he needed to rush out in an emergency. But with four children in the house, intimacy has gotten a lot harder to come by. 

The baby’s not so much of a big deal; you have a monitor, and he’s sleeping anyway. The twin toddlers and the big girl of six who would much rather have her daddy be admiring her lovely drawings copied from a children’s anatomy books (”At least one of our children is following in my footsteps, cara!”. “Not too far in your footsteps, I hope.”) than letting her parents spend some quality time together, though . . . those ones are a bit more of a pain. 

You’d told your eldest daughter that you had a headache and that you were going to go and rest. Daddy, you’d said, was going to come and help make sure you were comfortable and settled but would be back down by six to make dinner, and if she was a good girl whilst you and he got settled Daddy would let her help do some stirring. You’d asked her to keep an eye on her twin brothers, who were indeed settled in front of an episode of Peppa Pig - but of course, when you’re a parent, nothing ever goes the way it’s supposed to. 

Melone is kissing you when the rhythmic banging begins, and he slips out of bed to go and see. A few minutes later, he returns, sweaty and sighing that your eldest daughter was leading them in a rousing rendition of their current favourite TV show’s theme song, complete with thumping their little feet on the floor. Wide-eyed, she’d looked at her father and said she was just trying to keep them happy. 

Melone’s hand is up your shirt, squeezing at your chest, when there’s a knocking on the door and one of your sons walks into the room (Melone pulls his hand back, pretending to be settling blankets about you) and insists that his twin is taking up more of the sofa and the child you left in charge won’t do anything about it! Melone gives them permission to sit in his special reclining chair (a chair that’s seen a lot of the action you wish you were partaking in right now) and he seems satisfied. 

A hand down your underwear and your daughter shouts from outside the door that she’s just finished her diagram of the lungs and she wants Daddy to come see. Melone tries to shout he’ll be there in a moment (with a tip of your hips upwards, he clarifies he means a few minutes), and you hear her flouncing down the stairs. You really hope that she’s not going to use this against you - but as Melone sighs into your hair and fiddles with the zip of his trousers, the screaming downstairs begins and Melone groans, resting his forehead against yours. 

“You wanted four,” you tell him, and he mumbles something about not expecting twins. “Well. That’s what you get.”

“But I still want you, cara--”

“That’s how we got into this mess.”

Melone does up his fly and fingercombs his hair and goes downstairs to break up the ruckus. It’s a good ten minutes before he returns, and he simply shakes his head at you. 

“They’re playing Monopoly together now,” he says, and your heart at once sinks and rises. “It will be . . . oh, about twenty minutes before one of them breaks a rule or steals from the bank?”

“Like father, like child--” You say, a smile curling the corner of your mouth.

“So we have a little bit of time.” Melone continues, advancing towards where you are on the bed. “Not a lot, and of course I’d rather more . . . but in twenty minutes, I’m sure I can still make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.”

He crawls onto the bed, caging your body beneath his - and, as if on cue, the baby monitor begins an ear-splitting groan as your angelic baby son begins to cry. 

Yes. Definitely Melone’s fault.

[fetoras475]

How To Make a Kitchen Knife

Stage 1: Designing, Steel Cutting

Before you do whatever else, you should think of a plan for your blade. I based my plan off of a few kitchen blades I previously had. I made a few changed like the rakish part by the tip rather than a smooth bend, and Im utilizing an African rosewood called bubinga rather than the dark wood/plastic for the handle piece. Something else, its essentially a similar blade: 1/8 inch thick sharp edge, 5.5 inch handle, 6 inch edge. My first sketch was half-scale on a designing cushion, and afterward I did a full scale one to ensure the size felt right, and so forth As should be obvious, it took me a few attempts to get the handle shape right.

There are additionally a few contrasts in the metal itself. Most importantly I'm utilizing 0-1 device steel, and different blades are spotless, however different blades additionally have some metal rib things at the front of the handle, an element that is difficult to make on the off chance that you are simply utilizing a bit of level bar stock as I did.

When you have your plan, you should arrange or obtain your steel and wood. I purchased my steel from Mcmastercarr.com (I love that site). I got 2" x 1/8" bar stock that was a foot and a half (18") long, I think whenever was $35. I had some piece bubinga (the wood I utilized for the handle) laying around so I utilized that. Additionally, in light of the fact that language is cool, the wood pieces for the handle are actually called scales, recollect that. For the metal handle pins I utilized around 1/4" mellow steel dowel (you can get this at any nice home improvement shop).

Utilizing estimations from my full scale drawing, I scribed my blade diagram onto the steel with a sharpie. Notice how I got steel that was actually the correct size so I didn't need to make numerous cuts. NOTE: If you just have one "valid" straight edge in your steel that you can utilize, make this straight edge the edge, not the spine (the spine = level top edge of blade where you can push down with your hand while slashing watermelon). At the point when you get around to honing, you will perceive any reason why you need as straight an edge as workable for the cutting edge.

Stage 2: Belt Sander Rig, Cleaning Up the Rough Cut

The following stage is to tidy up the cuts, and remove the material right to the sharpie layout. After this progression we will have our last blade shape.

To tidy up the front of the cutting edge (the bend on the edge and the two point cuts on the top by the spine) I utilized a belt sander which I flipped over and zip tied and braced to the work seat. I dont have a genuine belt sander like this one, so I needed to extemporize. I utilized 80 coarseness sand paper for this.

You will get extremely acquainted with this apparatus when you make your blade edge too, so on the off chance that you choose to utilize this rearranged belt sander technique I recommend making it tough.

To tidy up the handle and the back edge of the edge I utilized a drum sander bit on a drill press, a sanding drum on the dremel, and a seat top processor.

Stage 3: Making the Edge

The edge of the blade is the base segment of the cutting edge (the piece of the blade that isn't the handle). Pretty simple, I know, I simply need to be certain all the language is straight. All things considered, since we are grinding away, I'm simply going to list the language:

Handle = part that you snatch

Edge = everything except for the handle

Edge = base piece of the edge, its sharp

Spine = top piece of the edge, inverse the edge

Scales = wood pieces that sandwich the metal in the handle and give the handle some meat to clutch

Pins = the metal dowels that experience the scales and look cool (for this blade they give no auxiliary significance)

Alright since that is cleared up, its opportunity to begin making your edge. The ideal activity here is to eliminate material on the sharp edge so it begins 1/8 inch thick by the spine, and tightens directly with the goal that the width goes to zero at the edge. Duh, isn't that so? As a matter of fact, its harder then it sounds. Props to you in the event that you accomplish this! Mine wound up being around 1/8 inch thick till mostly down, an inch from the spine, THEN it began tightening to an edge. Also, the shape wasn't even direct (straight line from start of tighten to edge), it bended. I didn't stress over it to much until I completed it and took a stab at cutting things like onions and apples. Since the sharp edge gets thick very soon in the cut, as connected to gradually getting thicker as the cut advances, you need to push a ton of the thing you are removing as you cut. This makes it so the cut requires a ton more weight then it should. Thus, in the event that you can, get that tighten quite straight, and make it take up the all out hight of the sharp edge.

In any case, first I denoted the centerline of the edge so I realized where to sand to. In the event that you can copyist it directly in the metal that is better, at that point what I did. I just utilized a bit of tape that ran down the whole edge. On the off chance that you dont put some centerline marker and simply attempt to figure, your edge will presumably wind up screwy and not level. Like, when you put the edge on the cutting board there will be holes, a.k.a. you won't carve completely through certain pieces of the stuff you're cutting. Hitting that centerline on either side with the shape is vital! All things considered, you dont need to go right to the centerline. I left around 1/64" on either side, which gave a 1/32" level area directly at the edge. In the event that you hone right to a fresh sharp edge, it will be demolished when you heat treat your blade, and afterward you should sand it down and restart.

When utilizing the belt sander to eliminate material, consistently point the edge against the heading of the sanding belt. It sounds somewhat strange, yet this is the best approach to do it. To emphasize, you need each bit of sand paper that passes by to initially sand the edge, and afterward the spine.

Stage 4: Making the Scales

I had some extra bubinga from a past task, so I chose to utilize that for the wood scales. Most blades have handles that are .75 ish inches thick, which is 48/64". The metal in the handle is 1/8", so 48/64 less 8/64 is 40/64" of wood. This is partitioned into two scales so each scale should be 20/64" thick. I cut mine around 1/8" or so to enormous so I had some squirm room. Its simple to remove material, its difficult to add it. Continuously blunder on the enormous side! The bit of wood I began with was to enormous so I tore it down on the band saw. I chose two areas which had decent patters and were level on one side (this is significant with regards to sticking the scales to the metal, if the outside of the wood isn't level, the paste won't bond too and you will have less surface zone holding your scales to your blade). At that point I followed the state of the handle onto the bits of wood, and cut and sanded them so they were close. Once more, blunder on the greater side, dont attempt to coordinate the layout of the scales to the metal at this time. In the event that you stand by till they are stuck with the wood hanging out over the metal, its simple to sand down the wood straight up to the metal, it takes into account a very flush, professional looking completion.

When I had the unpleasant handle shape in the scales, I bored 1/4" openings where I needed the pins (I'm utilizing 1/4" metal dowel for the pins). For the interim however, I utilized transitory wood dowels to hold the scales together. I continued to penetrate out the openings in the metal as well. I began with a little pilot touch, and moved to a larger than usual opening so I would have some space to play with when it came to adjusting the scales and sticking. On the off chance that you have a feeling that you definitely know precisely how you need to adjust the scales on the metal, don't hesitate to utilize the best possible size boring tool for the 1/4" pins.

Stage 6: Heat Treating the Blade

Like I stated, the metal I began with is B95, and we need something between a C55-C60. This is a decent hardness for a utility kitchen blade. Hard enough that it keeps an edge, however not to hard that it snaps under tension, it will simply curve and flex a bit. As an examination, blades are commonly too hard and overly fragile with a higher rockwell tackle. You never need to hone them cause they keep an edge perpetually, however they chip without any problem. Then again, excoriating blades are a lot milder and in this manner super bendy, however require successive honing.

Due to the compound structure of steel, you can just dependably solidify steel to its greatest saddle. Along these lines, what you need to do is solidify the blade however much as could reasonably be expected, which makes it about a C65 on the rockwell scale, and afterward you relax it by treating it. Its a lot simpler to dependably temper to various outfits then it is to solidify it to various hardnesses.

To solidify the steel you should initially warm it up to around 1500 degrees F and afterward rapidly chill it off. At the point when you heat it, you are changing the translucent structure inside the steel, and when you cool it rapidly you "lock" that structure set up. On the off chance that you let the hot metal cool gradually (by, state, simply forgetting about it at room temperature), at that point the structure you have made by warming it up will gradually change once again into its underlying structure: a lot gentler structure. By rapidly lowering the hot steel into something with a great deal of warm mass, similar to room temperature oil, the steel will cool [almost] to the touch in a few seconds. This "extinguishing", as its called, keeps that translucent structure from changing once again into what it was previously, it secures it as it were.

To temper the steel you need to warm it up to around 500 F, let it 'splash' at that temperature for 20 or so minutes, at that point let it cool gradually. This low-temperature measure gives you considerably more command over how much the compound structure of the steel changes once more into that gentler arrangement, on the grounds that the steel changes much more slow at lower temperatures. Typically one 'douse' at 500 F for 20 minutes is sufficient to bring the hardness down from a C65 to a C55 or C60 for full information Visit here.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Hello ladies! I would love to read a fic in a book 9-ish setting, to see wee Mandy meeting her grandparents, and Jem seeing them again and being reunited with Germain/the Ridge in general, as well! Thank you

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Homecoming - Part Nine

Brianna set Mandy down on the bench alongside the long main table. Claire was directing Jem and Germain to clean themselves up before she’d allow them any of the bread or honey. Both boys being in good spirits thanks to their reunion, they obliged while Mandy watched with wide eyes.

“Jemmy did wha’ she said,” Mandy remarked quietly to her mother, “and didna put on a fight first.”

Brianna gave an un-amused laugh as she used a damp cloth Claire provided to wipe Mandy’s face and hands.

“Why?” Mandy pressed.

“You’ve heard me and Da and Jem talk about Grandda and Gannie before,” Brianna reminded Mandy. “When we’re here, they help Da and me to take care of you, so when they ask you to do something, you need to listen to them and do as they say. Understand?”

Mandy looked over at Claire who was slicing a loaf of bread at a small table next to the doors that led through to the kitchen. Jem and Germain burst through a moment later, their hands, faces, and hair still dripping from their scrubbing.

“Go back through and make sure that floor is clean,” Claire told both boys, holding the eye of each of them long enough to ensure they heard the steel behind the instruction. There were giggles as soon as the door closed behind the mischievous pair.

Mandy turned back to her mother and nodded.

Claire carried the sliced bread over on a large plate and handed Brianna a napkin to spread on the table before Mandy.

“Fanny, will you fetch the honey from the pantry?” Claire requested before settling in at one end of the table across from Brianna and Mandy. “Better take what we want now because there won’t be a chance for seconds.” She put a slice of bread on the spread napkin in front of Mandy, smiling at her before handing a slice to Brianna and taking one for herself as well.

“Mam says yer my Grannie,” Mandy informed Claire, “and tha’s why Jemmy listens to ye.”

Claire chuckled. “I am. You were just a baby when I saw you last. A little bigger than the baby you saw earlier, but not much bigger.”

Mandy turned to Brianna for confirmation of Claire’s claim.

“Grannie was the first one ever to hold you when you were born,” Brianna assured her daughter, the girl’s surprise at that causing her mouth to fall open. “And you know how one of your middle names is Claire? That’s cause it’s her name.”

“Is tha’ why my hair’s got curls too?”

Brianna and Claire fought to suppress their laughter and Claire nodded. “The color’s from your father but I do believe the curl traces back through your mother to me.”

Fanny returned with a ceramic pot of honey and a spoon, offering them to Claire.

“Would you like to do it yourself, Mandy?” Claire suggested with a questioning glance at Brianna.

“If you do, you’re gonna do it sitting in Grannie’s lap, not mine,” Brianna said, already rising and lifting Mandy over the table to hand her to Claire. “I’ll eat it but I have no desire to wear it.”

Claire settled Mandy in her lap and handed her the spoon to dip into the pot while Claire held it and adjusted it as necessary to minimize how much dribbled onto the tabletop. When there was a large pool of honey on the bread, seeping into the air pockets and leaking to soak the napkin beneath, Claire eased the spoon from Mandy’s hand and handed the pot down the table for Fanny and the boys to negotiate (Jem had grown tired of waiting and had already eaten the crust off his bread).

Mandy tried to lift her slice of bread to bite into it but had to blow her curls out of the way first. Claire struggled to hold back her granddaughter’s hair but when Mandy pulled back, chewing happily, a strand of honey trailed back to the end of a ringlet. She whipped her head around to look up at Claire over her shoulder, flinging the honey into the older woman’s face.

“I like this honey better’n wha’ we have at home,” Mandy told Claire. “Ours comes from a bear.”

“A bear?” Fanny frowned. “Bears don’t make honey. Bees make honey.”

“I didna say they make it,” Mandy challenged the older girl with a roll of her eyes.

“Mandy,” Brianna scolded.

Fanny backed down as well, turning her attention to Germain and Jem who were seeing how high they could hold the spoon of honey and still dribble it on the slice of bread below.

“Where did you get the bears in Scotland?” Claire asked Mandy quietly.

Mandy was pleased to see that even if the girl didn’t believe her, Grannie did.

“Mam had a friend who sent them to us cause they’re Mam’s favorite.”

Brianna mouthed ‘Joe’ to her mother who smiled at the thought of her old friend.

The boys and Fanny had finished with their snack and were smearing the remnants of the honey across the backs of their hands as they raced to the door—Fanny demonstrated a little more decorum than that, taking care to wipe her face on her napkin and leave it neatly folded before floating out of the house and toward the garden where William was talking with Ian, Rachel, and Roger.

“And did you ever get to meet your mother’s friend?” Claire asked, her eyes fixed on Brianna who nodded.

“Ah huh. When Da was missin’ Mam took us to see ‘im in Boston. She said it’s where she grew up and tha’ he was a friend of yers first. He’s the one helped with my heart when I was a wee bairn,” Mandy explained, her voice pitching high at the end before she stuck her fingers in her mouth to lick them clean.

“And did you have fun in Boston?” Claire asked, giving Mandy a small bounce in her lap

Mandy giggled. “Ah huh. We did ‘speriments drivin’ round the Common and Mam took us to a big park but it was inside and we werena allowed to play on the grass cause someone else was havin’ a game.” Mandy’s excitement cooled and she whispered accusationally to Claire, her eyes darting back to Brianna, “I wanna go back an’ visit but Mam says we cannae do that. She says we cannae go home to Lallybroch again neither.”

Claire sighed and reached for the damp cloth Brianna had left on the table, using it to wipe the stickiness from Mandy’s face. Brianna looked up as a door opened and Jamie came in with as large a piece of paper as he had in his study. A quill was in one hand, his fingers stained with ink.

“I’m sorry you can’t go back to Scotland and Lallybroch,” Claire said. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure you’re happy here. You’ll have playmates nearby and some cousins.”

“Uncle Ian and Aunt Rachel,” Brianna reminded. “Baby Brian.”

“And I ken ye’ve been bouncin’ about for a time wi’ no place that’s been yers since Lallybroch,” Jamie spoke up, spreading the paper on the table. “But why don’t ye come over here and help me and yer mam make a start of fixin’ that?”

Claire let Mandy down so she could scamper around the table and climb into her mother’s lap.

“Wha’s this?”

“This is goin’ to be yer new house,” Jamie told her, using the quill to point at the diagram he’d started sketching. “It’ll start wi’ just this big room here—tha’s about as much as we’ll be able to build before the snows come—but then in the spring, we start framing this part out here and before summer arrives we can knock out this wall and it’ll be the kitchen for the larger house.”

“Ooooh,” Brianna purred, reaching over and taking the quill from her father’s hand. “If we take the larger part of the house and move it to this side of the cabin instead, the kitchen chimney will help heat it along here. Then, a second chimney on the far side here…”

“Jem’ll get plenty of practice splittin’ kindling if ye want a house wi’ two chimneys like that,” Jamie remarked.

“I wanna practice too,” Mandy piped in.

“I’ll see the smith about a wee hatchet for ye,” Jamie promised, blinking at Mandy with a smirk on his face before glancing up to see Brianna struggling to hold her tongue. “If ye’re goin’ to be helpin’ yer mam and me wi’ the new house, ye’ll need to start wi’ the right tools.”

Claire reached over to the pot of honey and ran her finger around the rim, gathering the drips and dribbles on her finger and popping it in her mouth while she smiled at Brianna with a look that teased, It’s our right as grandparents to spoil them.

“Did ye build this house?” Mandy asked Jamie, her jaw dropping when he nodded. “All of it? By yerself?”

“I had help, though… I’m sure it would ha’ gone that much faster did I have you helpin’ too.” Mandy slipped from Brianna’s lap and shuffled across the bench to climb into Jamie’s lap.

“How’d ye do the map?” She reached for the quill from Brianna. “Show me?”

“It’s no a map the way most folk think of maps,” Jamie explained, guiding her hand as the tip of the dry quill traced the lines of the sketch. “It’s no even a proper plan—that would have the measurements marked here…”

[thelastspeecher]

Bakery AU - Decorating the Cupcakes

On the discord last night, we talked about the Bakery AU a bit, and that got me inspired to write some cute fluffy shit.  Because you can always use some cute, fluffy, cupcake-involving writes in your life.  Enjoy.

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

              Stan walked into the kitchen.  The person Lute had sent him in to talk to, Angie, was decorating a three-tier wedding cake.  The tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth.  Stan had noticed before how that always seemed to happen when she focused intently.  He inhaled.

              “Smells good in here,” he said.  Angie looked up from the wedding cake.

              “I sure hope so!” she chirped.  “Since I baked some cupcakes earlier, if it don’t smell good, then somethin’ went wrong.”  Angie nodded at the wall hooks by the door, where Stan’s apron was hanging.  “Get suited up, boyo.”

              “Boyo?” Stan mumbled, putting his apron on and tying it around his waist.

              “I’m older than you by a couple months, I can call ya that,” Angie replied. She frowned at the wedding cake, then sighed.  “Well, that’s as good as it’ll get fer now.  C’mon, join me.”  Angie strolled over to the counter by one of the ovens, where a large number of cupcakes had been laid out.  Stan followed, dread building.

              “Uh, when Lute said you were gonna teach me, I thought it was more baking lessons.”

              “Nope!  Decoratin’.” Angie grinned at Stan.  “It’s high time we got ya started on that.”

              “Shouldn’t Lute be teaching me?  He’s got the nicest handwriting.”

              “Sure, but I have steadier hands.  That’s why I’m the one who does the more important decorations and finer details.” Angie walked over to the fridge and opened it.  “Havin’ steady hands was really useful back in labs in school,” she added, seemingly as an afterthought.

              “Labs?” Stan asked, hoping to delay the decorating lesson.  Angie nodded.

              “Science labs.”

              “Was it a gen ed requirement or something?”

              “Pardon?”  Angie frowned at him, bemused.

              “I mean, if you went to culinary school or majored in uh…I dunno…food or whatever, why would you take science labs, if they weren’t gen eds?”

              “Well, yer mistake there was assumin’ I went to culinary school.  I didn’t.”  Angie began to dig around in the fridge.  “Went to a fancy science technical school.  Got myself a bachelor’s in science.  Major in biology, minor in chemistry.”  She removed a few containers of frosting.  “‘Course, the whole environment or atmosphere or whatever ya want to call it, it was rough.  Very competitive.  Dog eat dog.” She closed the fridge door with more force than necessary.  “Rich snobby folks who didn’t like the charity case farmgirl from Arkansas,” she spat.  Stan grimaced.

              Fuck.  The last time I saw her this pissed off, it was when I let slip that I got kicked outta the house.  She and Lute seemed ready to drive to Glass Shard Beach and beat up Pops themselves. Angie let out a long sigh.

              “I’m not that heartbroken over bein’ done with that school,” she continued. “Didn’t like just about anyone there.”

              “…What school was it?” Stan asked.

              “West Coast Tech,” Angie answered.  She carried the frosting over to the counter.  Stan’s jaw dropped.

              The fancy-ass school Ford couldn’t get into?

              “I know, I know, I don’t seem like the type to get into a place like that,” Angie said, setting the frosting down.  She began to dig through drawers, pulling out various utensils.

              “No, it’s not that, it’s just-”  Stan chewed on his lip.  “Remember how you tricked me into blabbing about my twin brother, Ford?”

              “Vaguely.”  Angie’s tone was light, but her shoulders tightened.  Stan recognized this behavior.  She was getting ready to jump to his defense.

              “Don’t worry, this isn’t about him being shitty or my dad being shitty or anything like that,” Stan said quickly.  Some of the stress left her shoulders, but Angie was still visibly on edge. “It’s- Ford’s a genius.  Like, legit genius.  And he didn’t get into West Coast Tech.  So to hear that you got into it, it’s-”  Stan winced.  “There’s no way for me to finish that sentence without insulting you, is there?”

              “Nope.  But it’s fine.”  Angie smiled at him.  Stan felt his heart flutter.  “I get it. And thank you fer sharin’ more ‘bout yer past.”

              “Well, you were telling me about yours, so fair’s fair,” Stan said with a shrug. Angie chuckled.  “But if you went to West Coast Tech for science, how’d you end up owning a bakery with Lute?”

              “I took a gap year after I got my bachelor’s.”  Angie leaned against the counter, her gaze distant.  “Needed it, after the awful climate at WCT.  They accepted me into their grad program, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay there fer it or not.  Anyways, while I was tryin’ to decide, Lute visited.  And signed the two of us up fer a bakin’ competition.” Angie shook her head.  “Still don’t know what possessed him to do it.  Maybe he saw a flyer while he was out at a club or somethin’.”

              “And you guys won the competition?”

              “Oh, heavens no!” Angie laughed.  “A professional baker beat us.  But we got second place, and managed to impress one of the judges enough that he told us if we wanted to start a bakery, he’d give us the money we need to get it off the ground.”  She shrugged. “And we took ‘im up on the offer.”

              “Really?  Just like that?”

              “Yep.”

              “What about your science degree?”

              “What about it?”

              “You didn’t do anything with it.”

              “Eh.”  Angie pointed at him.  “Don’t think I can’t tell exactly what yer doin’, by the way.  Lute ‘n I used to pull the same thing to get out of doin’ work. Yer tryin’ to get me to jabber ‘n jabber ‘n jabber until we run out of time fer ya to learn how to frost some cupcakes. No sirree bob.”  Angie handed him a pastry bag.  “First, we need to put the frosting in the bag.  Then we can get to work on frostin’.”

----- 

              For about fifteen minutes, they worked quietly, Angie preferring to show him how to decorate, rather than tell.

              “Oop, yer a lil off,” Angie said in a soft tone.  She reached for Stan’s hand.  The second her skin touched his, Stan froze.  “Uh, Stan?”

              “I, uh, um-” Stan stammered.

              “Somethin’ wrong?”

              “Uh, no.  No.”

              “Okay, well, here, let me help.”  Angie carefully put her hand over Stan’s, guiding and steadying him.  Her fingers were much smaller than Stan’s, slim, warm, and gentle.  Stan could feel his face beginning to flush.  “Like that. Got it?”  Stan’s face burned.  “Stan?”

              “Yep.  Yep. Got it,” Stan mumbled.

              “Good.”  Angie let go of his hand.  “Oh dear, yer shakin’ like a leaf!  Are ya sure yer okay?”

              “Y-y-yeah.  I am.” Stan set down the pastry bag.  “So, uh, it seems like a bit of a waste to have me decorate these, since they won’t be good enough to sell.”

              “Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Angie said cheerfully.  “We can always sell ‘em at a discount.  Or donate ‘em to the food bank.  We’ll prob’ly do the second one.  Folks always want cupcakes fer parties, and people with money issues should have access to ‘em, too.”

              “…You and Lute are good people,” Stan said quietly.  Angie began to set aside the decorated cupcakes.

              “We try,” she replied.

              “You succeed.  I’ve seen how much stuff you donate.  Most people wouldn’t do that.”

              “We were raised right, is all.  And I can tell yer tryin’ to get out of yer lesson, again.”  Angie wagged her finger at him playfully.

              “Heh.  You caught me.”

              Not really.  Stan watched Angie continue to pick up a few small things here and there.  You guys really are good.  A lot better than I am, that’s for sure.  Better than Ford, too.  Angie gave up science to bake cupcakes and brownies with her twin brother. Ford gave up on me to go do science.  A thought occurred to him.

              “Do you miss science?” Stan asked.  Angie eyed him.

              “Stan, we really should get back on track.”

              “Yeah, yeah, I know.  But before we do, will you answer that question?”

              “…Fine.”  Angie looked down at the counter.  She brushed a few stray sprinkles away.  “Yes. I do miss it sometimes.  I really liked bein’ in biology and chemistry.  I mean, I’m happy now, and I don’t think I’d give up what Lute and I have goin’ fer us.  But I definitely miss bein’ a scientist.”  Angie smiled faintly.  “It really…spoke to me.  Y’know?”

              “Yeah.  I do.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, uh, if you miss science, maybe you should sorta, um, mix it with the bakery.”

              “What?”

              “Ugh, I can’t fuckin’ talk sometimes,” Stan said with an awkward laugh. He coughed.  “You could combine science and cupcakes.”  Angie was now watching him intently.  “Like, um, make science-themed cupcakes or whatever.” Angie’s eyes widened.  “Make stuff look like beakers or test tubes, or do those uh, those stick drawings.”

              “Yer referrin’ to molecular diagrams.”

              “Sure.”

              “Ooh.”  Angie’s eyes sparkled with excitement.  “Oh, goodness, Stan.  That’s brilliant!  Yer a genius!”

              “I don’t think-”

              “No, seriously, that’s an amazing idea.  We could partner with a science camp or somethin’, make it a whole event and have science-themed pastries all day.  I love it!” Angie gushed.  Stan blinked.

              “R-really?”

              “Yes!”  Angie jumped excitedly.  She walked over to Stan and took a hold of his hands.  A slow smile began to spread across Stan’s face.  “Oh, I have to talk to Lute, and we’ll set up a whole thing. This’ll be great.  Perfect way to indulge my scientific side and it’ll be a good promo thing.  Goodness, goodness, goodness.”

              “Glad you like it,” Stan said, now grinning broadly.  “I guess we should get back to-”  Angie kissed him on the cheek.  Stan’s face immediately turned deep red.  He stumbled back, knocking over the tray with the wedding cake on it.  The wedding cake went flying, collapsing into crumbs and bits of frosting.  Once the air cleared, Stan met Angie’s eyes.  Her mouth was open in a silent “O”.  “Angie’, I’m-” Stan started.  Angie burst out laughing.

              “What a day!” she chortled.  “I find out more ‘bout yer mysterious twin brother, you tell me I should have a science-themed day fer the bakery, we destroy the weddin’ cake I spent the last couple days on.”  She wiped a tear away from her eye.  “Dear me.”

              “You’re- you’re not mad at me?” Stan asked quietly.  Angie laughed again.

              “What?  No!  I was the one who startled ya.  Sorry ‘bout that.  It was a bit forward of me.”

              “I- um, it’s- it’s fine,” Stan mumbled.

              If you wanna really apologize, you could always kiss me again.  The suggestion died on Stan’s tongue.  I shouldn’t say that.  She kisses Lute on the cheek all the time.  It doesn’t mean she likes me romantically.  Honestly, it almost definitely doesn’t mean she wants to be more than friends.  And if I tell her to kiss me again, she’ll get pissed and Lute will get pissed and they’ll kick me out, and-

              “Stan?”  Angie’s voice broke off Stan’s panicked thoughts.  “Uh, not to end our lesson early, but I think I need to get to work on replacin’ the weddin’ cake.  So maybe you should go help out Lute up front.”

              “Oh!  Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” Stan said quickly. Angie nodded, still smiling.  Emboldened by the fact that she wasn’t upset with him, Stan took a step forward.  “But before I go up front…”  Angie looked up at him, curiosity in her bright blue eyes.  Stan plucked a large cake crumb out of Angie’s hair.  He grinned at her.  “You had something in your hair.”  Angie turned pink.  “All right, now I’ll go help Lute.  I’m sure he’s completely failing without me around.”  Angie chuckled softly, her cheeks still flushed.  Stan winked at Angie and walked out of the kitchen.  Lute, organizing a few pastries in the display case, looked over.

              “Uh, did ya have a food fight with the cupcakes?” he asked.  Stan ran his hands through his hair, combing out the crumbs.

              “Nah.  I knocked over the wedding cake.  So she’s gotta make a new one instead of continue teaching me how to decorate.”

              “Wait, what?  Oh man, I bet Angie gave ya quite the dressin’ down.”

              “No, she didn’t.”  Stan joined Lute by the display case.  “She laughed, actually.”

              “…She did?”  Lute’s voice was quiet.  Stan looked at Lute.  He seemed to be thinking hard about something.

              “What’s on your mind?”

              “Nothin’,” Lute said after a moment.  He cleared his throat.  “All right, let’s get this place shipshape.”

              “You got it.”  As Lute bustled around, getting the bakery ready to be opened, Stan glanced back at the door leading to the kitchen.  Stuck in his mind was the sound of Angie’s laugh, the sparkle in her eyes, her blushing face.

              “Hey, daydreamin’ Steven,” Lute’s voice said, startling Stan out of his reverie. Stan looked up.  “You ready fer the customers?”

              “You know it,” Stan said confidently.  Lute flipped the sign over to read “OPEN”.

              It’s showtime.

[cancerbiophd]

Hey! So I’m going into my 2nd semester at college for my bachelors degree in biology w/ emphasis in cellular and molecular biology. Interested in the cancer research or pharmaceutical drug research routes. I was SO overwhelmed with how much info was thrown at me for my science classes my 1st semester. Any advice/helpful hints to achieve better results this semester (and future semesters)? I want to keep between B’s and A’s for my classes. Im really interested in my classes - there’s just so much

hi there!

In general, biology relies heavily on diagrams and flow-charts (ie signaling pathways, cause and effect’s). My most successful studying technique for bio is just to grab a white board or scrap piece of paper and draw it all out. And keep drawing it all out until I understand it. Another technique I do is to rewrite class notes in my own words. Sometimes I can simplify a paragraph into a neat flowchart, which is wayyy easier to remember. And the last technique that works for me is to look for other resources to supplement what is taught in class, such as Youtube videos (my personal favorite), free online tutoring courses (like Khan Academy), and real life tutors (most colleges have free learning centers staffed with TAs! or visit your professor during office hours). 

Also, you will find that every class’s exams will follow its own set format for the entire semester. I usually give myself a bit of leeway with exam 1 (I won’t fail it of course, but don’t beat myself up if I get a lower grade than expected), and then after exam 1, I know exactly what the remaining exams in that class will be like, and thus will know the best method to study. For example, does the professor like to ask open-ended questions, or prefers to stick with pure regurgitation multiple choice? Did they hint at exam questions during the lecture by going over a slide multiple times? Did they only ask stuff from lectures, or did they include things from the textbook as well? It’s almost like taking the SAT all over again--you gotta learn how to take the test just as much as remembering the content. And hey, if you can find a previous student from the class and get your hands on an old exam, use that opportunity! Remember: study smart, not hard :)

here are some other links to posts (mine and others) on studying methods and other tips. I know it’ll take some time to go through them all, but hopefully something in there will work for you!

5 revision methods

An awesome way to organize your deadlines for each class

How to stop procrastinating

Quick tips for time management

15 things ultra-productive people do

How to overcome failure

How to study smart

Different ways to study

8 things successful students do

Study less study smart

26 reminders for going to school like a badass

Some more study tips (with a science class focus)

Overcoming the “curve of forgetting” printable

Best of luck! Let me know if there’s anything else I can help you with (like any specifics). Now go and kick some butt this semester!

[multishipper-baby]

OT27 Madness

I'm starting this post by saying I'm sorry I can't put a read more. Computer is broken and stuff so you'll have to deal with this. I'll see if I can steal my dad's laptop later to fix this.

Also, @fnafhs-aesthetics asked me to tag them so. Tagged.

Anyway, here's my dumb OT27 idea. And yes, you read that number right. Buckle up, this is going to be a wild ride.

The ones that start it all are the Animotronics.

At first Chica just tells everybody that she's dating all the boys, and all of the school is to afraid to anger her and her bfs so they just deal with it.

But after a while the rest of the students began to notice the guys are weirdly close to each other and get suspicious.

Eventually a rumor comes out that they're secretly gay and, to avoid drama, they just tell the truth: They are dating Chica, but they're also all dating each other.

(At this point everybody in the band knows about Fred btw, tho they don't fully understand exactly what he is. What I can assure you is that they don't mind having 2 bfs for the price of 1)

Now everybody in school is even more confused, but Fox threatens them so they just shut up.

The next ones to get together are the Toys.

When Joy and Freddy get together, both Meg and Bon get jealous.

(Bon: OK, Freddy, first you start dating Bonnie, and now you're dating Joy too?? Stop stealing all my crushes!)

(Alsooo, Joy knows about Fred too, even if she doesn't really understand what he is she loves him)

They don't say anything for a while bc they don't want to ruin their friendship with Joy, but eventually Bon tells Bonnie, who tells Freddy, who then tells Joy.

"You do know that my boyfriend is dating five other people, don't you? Like he of all people would have an issue with me having other partners!"

So now Joy has three bfs and a gf.

(Meg and Bon don't date each other, but they are the very best metamours)

((ALSO, Toddie joins them eventually. She isn't sure about dating Joy at first but ignoring her cuteness is way to hard for anyone))

Meanwhile, Deuz been watching all of this unfold from the sidelines and it's given him an idea.

Well, if those losers can date all of their band members, we can't he?

The rest of the Nightmares are kind of unsure about it, but they do decide to give it a try and end up enjoying it way too much.

Fox accuses Deuz of copying them and they have a childish fight. Fox of course wins bc he has more strength (And more bfs).

By this point, the twins are already pretty interested in what's happening and decide to see if they can help each other get inside that already slightly complicated polycule.

The only issue is that they're both awful as wingmans. But they still persevere.

Somehow Mai manages to get together with Freddy, and Puppet winds up dating Bon.

(Also, Puppet is a transguy. Not saying it for any reason really, just letting you know)

After a lot of insistence from his partners and friends, Bon finally gathers up enough courage to ask Bonnie out. And of course Bonnie agrees bc who wouldn't?

Since their polycule seems pretty open about including new people instead of just being the five (And a shadow ghost thingy) of them, Fox decides to see if he can include another person: Springtrap. Everybody is fine with them dating, since Spring's a nice guy and all. That is, until he comments about getting another bf.

"YOU WANT TO DATE DEUZ?! HE'S AWFUL" "We talked things out and he's really sorry about everyth-" "WHY WOULD YOU EVEN LIKE HIM?!"

But, at the end of the day, nobody can really force Springtrap to stay silent about his crush and forget about it. So eventually he gets together with Deuz.

Fox is not pleased about the fact that now they're metamours but he guesses he can always punch him in the face if he breaks his "bro's" heart.

(At this point Freddy already has made a diagram to keep track of everybody. Fred insists that it's unnecessary, even tho he also tends to get a little lost sometimes)

Now we go with Loon and Usagi. After a lot of pinning, they're finally together! Much celebration. But what does that have to do with the polycule?

Well, it seems that little Loon has caught the attention of the Nightmares.

He's afraid of them at first (Mostly bc Oxy's literally 1.97 m tall and Onnie has fucking shark teeth) so he tries to avoid them.

After a while he notices that they're actually flirting with him instead of threatening him and he's. Confused, to say the least.

It takes a long while for him to get comfortable with the idea of dating a bunch of guys that look like 20-something gang members but eventually Deuz wins his trust and he gives them a try.

Usagi isn't sure how the heck his tiny bf managed to get THREE intimidating guys to pay attention to him but now he looks pretty happy with them so she just lets him have fun.

The rest of the polycule welcome both of them with open arms, tho they're kind of surprised about how many they're now.

And just when they think that maybe they're too many already, Bon starts dating Felix, who is also dating Fede. Who, mind you, is also dating Abby. Who is also also dating Lily. And just with that we add four more people to the group .

Nobody in the polycule is sure of how it got that big but now the teachers are as lost as ever with them.

(Also, I didn't mention this before but Maggie is definitely seeing both Mai and Meg. She's cool, she deserves to date cute girls)

Despite everybody joking about how now they're huge and they shouldn't bring more people in, everybody is supportive of Freddy when he starts going out with Cami.

The thing? Cami is seeing Towntrap. And Towntrap is dating Eak.

(Is everybody in this goddamn school polyamourous? Yes, the answer is yes)

By this point they're all sure finding a place to spend Valentine's day is going to be pretty fricking difficult, but eh, they'll find a way.

Freddy's diagram proves to be a lot more useful now that they're literally 26 people together.

But wait! I promised a OT27, right? Where's the last person?

Well, the last one to join is Owynn.

One day when the polycule meets up he just appears, holding Eak's hand. They're both trying to look casual but it's obvious that they're internally dying.

The rest is kind of silently debating whether they should say something or not, considering all the caos that Owynn made in the past. But, after a small chat, they decided to give him a chance.

It's kind of awkward at first. And it's quite hard for Freddy and Towntrap to get fully comfortable with him.

As time passes, though, they notice that he's making an active effort to better himself. And, despite him not being a very romantic person, it's easy to notice he actually does care for Eak and he isn't using him or something like that. Which basically wins him a place in the polycule.

Now that the entire story is written, here's some ideas:

♡ Freddy's mom is the most supportive of them, even if she's kind of surprised by the fact that his little boy has three gfs and five bfs.

♡ Most group dates are done in parks bc finding a restaurant that would actually make a table for 27 people is kind of difficult.

♡ Only people that date Freddy know about Fred, so the rest of the polycule get confused when they heard them talk about him. Freddy eventually tells them who Fred is, tho he isn't happy about it.

♡ Finding a day where they're all free is hard af. Most of the time there are at least two or three people that are missing bc they had other things to do.

♡ Talks about marriage get really awkward really fast.

♡ Some of them want to marry which gets hard bc they can't marry more than one person and they don't want to show favoritism, so they mostly avoid the subject.

♡ TALKS ABOUT CHILDREN ON THE OTHER HAND. Not everybody in the polycule wants to be a mom/dad but they all agree that if any of them ever wants to have a kid they'll be fine with it and they'll offer support.

♡ You bet your ass at the very least the Animotronics love the idea of having a baby someday (Golden is the most excited bc of course he is).

♡ When two people seriously fight like half the polycule becomes a mess.

♡ Literally everybody's biggest fear regarding their relationship is two people have a nasty breakup and the situation snowballing to the point it ruins everybody else's relationships.

♡ But so far most conflicts could be resolved by talking things out.

♡ Speaking about communication, whenever one of them is dealing with jealousy they try to help by giving them tips to deal with it in healthy ways.

♡ At first everybody in the polycule is mostly "im just here for my partners the rest I don't care about" but the more time they spend together the more protective they start to become. You hurt one? Be prepared to deal with 26 pissed off teenagers.

♡ Basically now they're a tiny army.

♡ Everybody who's an outsider is probably completely lost and just kind of goes along with anything that happens. They used to pay close attention to who is dating who but now they're so many it's incredibly hard to remember that stuff.

♡ Sometime people who don't know about the polycule go to one of them and tell them "hey I think your partner is cheating" only to get a laugh in response.

♡ Explaining their relationship can get pretty difficult.

♡ "You see, I'm dating Chica, Fox, Bonnie, Joy, Golden and Cami. Chica, Fox, Bonnie and Golden all are also dating each other, but Fox also has another boyfriend called Springtrap and Bonnie is also seeing Bon. Joy is also dating Bon and she has two other girlfriends, and Cami... You're already lost aren't you?"

♡ Despite the difficulties that come with being polyamourous they're still very happy together and very in love.

I'm shipping trash and I don't even care.

[chasholidays]

Hey love your fics im a first time prompt sender, if you can could you carry on Where Everybody Knows Your Name, except with Monty and Miller, I want to see if Monty gets his customer crush too, looking forward to the holiday fics i cant wait thanks x

Original fic here!

“It was Nate, right?”

Monty considers, but he can’t help the smartass retort. It’s his lot in life. “No, Monty. We work together?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but she’s clearly amused. Possibly in spite of herself, but he’ll take what he can get. “Your customer crush. Nate with the rainbow flag on his bag?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s him. Why?”

“I know him.”

He frowns. “Okay, that’s just unfair. You can’t hog all the hot queer boys. We’re in a recession.”

“Which is why I’m talking to you. He and Bellamy are friends. They hang out. If you came to hang out too, you could actually spend time with him.”

“You have such a weird thing about talking to people you’re romantically interested in. Who does that?”

“People who want to get laid.” She leans back against the counter, watching him shrewdly. He likes Clarke, but she can be kind of intense. “You don’t have to do anything about it. But I figured I should let you know. Hanging out with Miller is a possibility.”

“Miller?”

“Bellamy calls him Miller. That’s why I didn’t make the connection earlier. But we all hung out last night, so—“

“So you slept with a customer and want to enable everyone else to do the same.”

“We’re dating,” she points out. Monty still thinks she might be a witch, honestly. It would explain some things. “All I’m enabling you to do is spend some time with him socially. He’s hosting game night at his place on Saturday night. Bellamy said I could bring friends.”

The entire premise of Monty’s crush is that Nate is attractive and seems to be queer. He’s quiet and polite when he comes in, and usually puts a dollar in the tip jar after he pays. There are no particularly deep feelings involved. He’s eye candy.

But, well.

“Game night?”

“Apparently he’s really into indie board games.”

“Oh my god.”

She smirks, and he’ll give her this one. She deserves to be smug. “So, you’re in, right?” she asks.

“Send me the details, yeah. I think I can make it.”

*

Monty has a fairly effective strategy for dealing with random crushes: he doesn’t do anything about them and eventually they go away. He likes having a person to idly fantasize about, but actually making a move always seems kind of terrifying. In college, his first and only girlfriend had asked him out, and they’d had a year-long relationship that ended with graduation.

And since then, nothing. Just scattered crushes, the kind with no pressure at all. People who aren’t really real, customers and attractive strangers on the bus. When Clarke was hired, he thought about getting a crush on her, but she was too intimidating, and not really his type.

Plus, after less than a month, she was dating Bellamy, which sort of proved his point. Anyone who went from crush to flirting to relationship with the efficiency she did was not someone he could ever date.

But a quiet guy who’s friends with his coworker and her boyfriend, who has board game nights? That guy’s right up his alley. And it’s a more than a little terrifying.

Clarke agrees to walk over to Nate’s with him, so he won’t be showing up alone. Bellamy isn’t even there, so they don’t have to pretend he’s not nervous about interacting with his semi-crush.

“It’s not a big deal,” Clarke says, which isn’t actually that helpful. He knows it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t need to remind him he’s being irrational.

His expression must give him away, because her face dissolves into a sheepish smile. “Sorry. So it’s going to be us, Bellamy, Miller, their friend Monroe, Raven, and her boyfriend. Apparently they try to do this like once a month.”

“Cool.” He pauses. “Bellamy didn’t think it was weird? That you were bringing me.”

“Nope. That’s part of why I asked Raven,” she adds. “I just said I was bringing my two favorite coworkers.”

“Aww,” he says, grinning. “Thanks.”

“Not a lie.”

“We like you too.” He exhales. “I shouldn’t be nervous, right? This is board games. If I’ve got a thing, this is it.”

“Definitely. Also you like Bellamy and Raven, and Miller is pretty laid back. You have good taste in crushes.”

“Thanks. Did we know Raven had a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, cool, just checking. Should I call Nate Miller? Does everyone call him Miller?”

“I don’t think he’ll mind Nate? He and Bellamy met in high school and there were a couple Nates, so he went by his last name. Either is probably fine.”

“It’s probably good,” he says. “Nate is an idea, Miller is a person. I can get to know the person.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They run into Raven a few blocks out, falling into step with her and her boyfriend, a tall guy with long hair who’s about as intimidating as Raven is, honestly. They’re one of those couples Monty is sure could kick his ass without even noticing they were doing it.

“Hey,” says Raven. “Finally putting your money where your mouth is, Monty?”

“I’ve never understood that saying,” he muses. “Do you have any idea how dirty money is? The last place I want it is where my mouth is.”

Raven smirks. “Don’t be nervous. Me and Clarke are going to talk you up.”

“That actually makes me feel worse, thanks. Is this your boyfriend? Do we get introduced or is he just going to lurk?”

“Yeah, this is Roan. Roan, Monty and Clarke. Clarke’s boyfriend invited us. I slept with him after it turned out Clarke and I were dating the same guy.”

Roan takes this in stride. “I will probably need a diagram. But it’s nice to meet you both. Raven has been educating me on the evolution of board gaming beyond Scrabble and Monopoly, so I’m looking forward to an educational afternoon.”

“Oh wow,” says Monty. “Yeah, you’ve got a lot to look forward to. Did Bellamy tell you what we were playing? If Miller’s understanding of modern board games begins and ends with Settlers of Catan, I don’t think I can be into him anymore.”

“What if board game night is actually just Sorry for three hours?” Clarke asks. “What then?”

“As long as it’s not Monopoly. Then none of us would come out with relationships.”

They talk favorite games until they get there, which lulls Monty into a false sense of security. He can do this. He’s a normal person who has normal conversations.

And then Nate opens the door to the apartment building, and it all kind of falls apart. He usually comes in on his way to work, dressed in slacks and collared shirts, but on his own time he apparently favors tight t-shirts and worn jeans. The t-shirt has the triforce on it, too, just to rub it in. It’s like he stepped right out of one of Monty’s pathetic dork fantasies.

“Hey, coffee shop crew. I’m an asshole who doesn’t actually know any of your names except Clarke. I assume you’re Raven and you’re Monty,” he adds, guessing correctly. “And you must be Raven’s boyfriend, name to be determined.”

“Roan,” he says. “A pleasure.”

“Cool. We haven’t ordered pizza yet, so you guys can get in on arguing about toppings. Come on up.”

Bellamy and Monroe are already upstairs, looking at Nate’s–Miller’s–impressive collection of board games. To Monty’s commingled relief and horror, he’s got great taste in games, some titles he loves, others he’s been hoping to try out, and even some that weren’t on his radar at all but look cool.

“I have a problem,” says Miller, when he catches Monty examining a deluxe edition of Underlings of Underwing. “A kickstarter problem.”

“This is honestly amazing,” he says. “Like–wow. You have the game collection I dream of having.”

“Yeah? What are some of your favorites?”

There’s this zone Monty gets into where he’s nervous, where he can interact normally, have full, coherent conversations, but it feels as if he’s watching himself do it, as if he’s in a video game running through a pre-written script until he hits a decision. He and Miller have a perfectly cordial discussion of games, and Monty’s sure he comes across well.

On the inside, though, he’s basically dying.

It gets better once they settle in for actual gaming. The games are engaging and require him to put thought into them, and even though he always ends up playing the same game as Miller when they break into groups, he can interact through mockery and trash talk, which works for him. Especially since Miller gives as good as he gets.

He’s congratulating himself on interacting like a normal human and never having to do it again when Miller grabs his arm. “Hey, have you played Pandemic Legacy?”

“No, just regular Pandemic.”

“I’m trying to get a game going on Thursdays. Bellamy and Clarke are in, so we need a fourth. You want to join?”

“Thursdays?” he asks, to fill the space as his brain catches up.

“Yeah. I figure we won’t make it work every week, but I want to try it. I hear it’s cool.”

“Yeah, me too. I can probably do that, yeah. Thursday nights?”

“Yup. Give me your number, I’ll text you when we’ve got a plan.”

“Awesome, sounds good. Looking forward to it.”

They shake hands, and Bellamy and Miller do a bro hug, and everyone else says their goodbyes downstairs. Clarke’s going over to Bellamy’s, which means she’s not going the same direction he is anymore, and he gets to walk home alone, letting his music dominate his brain.

Jasper’s playing Splatoon when he gets to the apartment, and Monty just collapses next to him with a groan.

“Did it suck?”

“No. It was amazing. We have a ton in common, he has a huge game collection, he wants me to join a weekly Pandemic Legacy game. I don’t know how it could have gone better.”

Jasper pats his shoulder, consoling. “Sorry, bro. That sucks.”

“Yeah, I know.”

*

Miller’s never been one of the regulars who comes in every day, so Monty doesn’t actually see him again for another couple days. He comes in on Tuesday morning, though, looking just as attractive as always, except now he has a personality.

Clarke Griffin is the worst thing that’s ever happened to Monty, probably. This is her fault.

He’s grabbing a big order of pastries when Miller comes in, so he just offers a smile, but he ends up in line right next to him, because that’s the kind of luck Monty has.

“Morning,” says Miller.

“Morning. How’s it going?”

“Okay. I was hoping you were going to be here. When do you finish work on Thursday?”

He blinks. “Oh, uh–three? Morning shift.”

“Cool. I was thinking like six for the game. Order dinner, figure out the rules, fight over how to prevent disease while the world dies around. The usual.”

“Yeah, that should work for me. Are you getting any pastries?” he adds.

“Yeah, blueberry muffin.”

Monty grabs one quickly, puts it in a bag and hands it over. It’s nothing he hasn’t done for other regulars, nothing he hasn’t done for Miller before, even. But this is the problem with a fake crush becoming a real crush: now everything feels important. It’s not fun anymore.

Which is, of course, ridiculous. He still doesn’t have a chance. He just has real things to pine over.

“Thanks,” Miller says, easy. “I’ll text you later tonight.”

“Cool. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

“Very natural,” Maya says, patting his shoulder once Miller is gone. “Totally smooth.”

“It may seem that way, but on the inside I am dying.”

“No, I can tell.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Really.”

“At least you get to hang out with him every week,” Clarke says, and he glares at her.

“I’m not even talking to you. You’re banned.”

She just smiles. “You’re welcome.”

He makes sure there are no customers around before he gives her the finger. So he’s not that doomed.

Yet.

*

Interacting with Miller isn’t that bad, except that the whole crush thing doesn’t get better. He’s just waiting for something to ruin it, and nothing does. Miller is not only hot and queer, but sarcastic and geeky and passionate. He works for a theater company that does outreach in public schools and seems to love it, and while Monty doesn’t really think he saves kittens from trees in his spare time or anything, that’s not really his type anyway.

Miller is his type. Basically just as he is. And he has no idea what to do about it.

“You could ask him out,” Clarke says. They’ve got their fifth week of Pandemic Legacy tomorrow, and Monty might be complaining. Just a little.

In his defense, it is her fault. She deserves it.

“How dare you,” he says.

“Monty doesn’t woo,” Jasper adds. “Monty is wooed.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Most of the time, I’m neither.”

“Oh right. In general, Monty is just sad and alone.”

“That’s me,” he agrees. “I’ve got a brand, Clarke. Respect the brand.”

“And your brand can never date Miller?”

“No, my brand’s just bad at it. And I think it’s incompatible with his,” he adds.

“Really?” Clarke asks, sounding dubious. “You’re nerds who love games. How are you not on Miller’s brand?”

“His low self esteem makes it hard for him,” says Jasper, like he’s some kind of expert.

“Your mom’s low self esteem makes it hard for her,” Monty mutters.

“You’re great, Monty,” says Clarke. “Really.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean I’m asking Miller out.”

“Okay. But you could.”

“I could,” he agrees. “I’m just not.”

He assumes it’s the end of the conversation, which is true in a limited sense, but Clarke clearly doesn’t forget, because Monty’s been at Miller’s for about three minutes when their phones buzz with a message from Bellamy: Sorry, something came up, me and Clarke are out.

It’s not even a real excuse. They really could have done better.

Miller must agree, because he snorts and tosses his phone aside. “Wow, subtle.”

“You think they’re having sex?”

“Oh, probably. I meant–” He glances at Monty, like he’s thinking it over. “Bellamy’s been telling me to just make a move for weeks. He thinks just because he’s dating his barista crush, everyone else should too. So he probably decided to skip out just so I’d–do this.”

Monty’s mouth goes dry. “Wait, what?”

“No pressure,” he says, with a shrug. “But if they’re not here anyway, we could switch this to a date. Or we can pretend I didn’t say anything and play video games.”

It takes his brain a second to catch up. “Really?” is what he comes out with, and then, “I mean, um. Can we do both?”

“Both what?”

“Video game date? Like–we’re on a date, but we’re still playing video games. Is that something you’re into?”

Miller smiles. “Yeah, Monty. That’s exactly what I’m into.”

“Oh. Wow. What are the odds?”

“Pretty shitty,” Miller says. “We must be lucky.”

Monty can’t stop grinning. “Yeah, we must be.”

*

He makes Clarke a coffee when she shows up for her shift the next morning. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” he says. “But I no longer want to murder you.”

“Cool.” She raises the cup. “To customer crushes?”

“To customer boyfriends,” he corrects, and she grins.

“Even better.”

[taimoorrafique]

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