#advanced woodworking

[pets12pets]

Mastering Advanced Woodworking Techniques

Woodworking is an art form that has been practiced for centuries, with its roots dating back to ancient civilizations. From building shelters to creating intricate furniture pieces, woodworking has evolved into a fine craft that requires skill, patience, and precision. While many enthusiasts may have some experience with basic woodworking techniques, mastering advanced techniques is crucial for those looking to take their craftsmanship to the next level. In this article, we will delve into the world of advanced woodworking techniques, exploring the various methods and skills that can elevate one's woodworking skills to a professional level. Whether you are a seasoned woodworker or just starting out, this guide will provide valuable insights and tips on how to master advanced woodworking techniques and create stunning, one-of-a-kind pieces that will stand the test of time. So, let's sharpen our tools, roll up our sleeves, and dive into the world of advanced woodworking techniques.

Precision cuts: achieving flawless edges

Achieving precise, flawless edges is a crucial aspect of mastering advanced woodworking techniques. It requires a combination of skill, patience, and the right tools to achieve the desired results. Whether you are working with wood, metal, or other materials, the ability to make precise cuts is essential for creating high-quality, professional-level pieces. In this article, we will delve into the importance of precision cuts and offer tips and tricks to help you achieve flawless edges in your woodworking projects. By mastering this fundamental aspect of woodworking, you will be able to take your craft to the next level and create truly exceptional pieces.

Joinery mastery: perfecting complex connections

In addition to achieving precise edges, mastering complex connections is another essential skill for advanced woodworkers. These connections, such as dovetail joints and mortise and tenon joints, require a high level of precision and attention to detail. One small mistake can affect the overall stability and strength of the piece. By perfecting these complex connections, woodworkers can elevate their craftsmanship and create truly impressive and durable pieces. In this article, we will discuss techniques and strategies for mastering these advanced woodworking techniques and taking your skills to the next level.

Advanced shaping techniques: sculpting intricately

Another crucial aspect of advanced woodworking is mastering the art of intricate sculpting. This involves using different tools and techniques to create intricate and detailed designs on wood surfaces. It requires a high level of precision and control, as well as a deep understanding of how different types of wood respond to various shaping methods. By mastering intricate sculpting, woodworkers can take their pieces to the next level and add unique, personalized touches that truly showcase their skill and creativity. This skill can also open up new opportunities for creating custom pieces and fulfilling more challenging and rewarding projects. With practice and patience, advanced woodworkers can become experts in sculpting and elevate their woodworking abilities to new heights.

Veneering secrets: creating stunning finishes

One of the key components of advanced woodworking is the art of veneering. Veneering allows woodworkers to create stunning finishes by applying thin layers of wood to a base material. This technique not only adds a beautiful aesthetic to the piece, but it also adds strength and durability. To achieve the best results with veneering, it's important to understand the different types of veneer, the proper techniques for applying and cutting veneer, and how to properly seal and finish the final product. With these veneering secrets in your repertoire, you can take your woodworking to the next level and create truly stunning pieces.

Mastering inlay and marquetry: Elevating craftsmanship

Another advanced woodworking technique that can take your craft to the next level is mastering inlay and marquetry. These techniques involve using small pieces of contrasting wood, metal, or other materials to create intricate designs on the surface of a piece. With precise cutting and fitting skills, as well as an eye for design, woodworkers can add a touch of elegance and sophistication to their pieces through inlay and marquetry. These techniques require patience and attention to detail, but the end result is a stunning piece that showcases advanced craftsmanship. By incorporating inlay and marquetry into your woodworking, you can elevate your skills and create truly unique and beautiful pieces.

Advanced router techniques: Enhancing versatility

Another advanced router technique that can greatly enhance the versatility of your woodworking skills is edge banding. This involves applying a thin strip of material, such as wood veneer or PVC, to the exposed edges of a piece of furniture, giving it a clean and finished look. This technique allows woodworkers to use less expensive materials for the main structure of a piece while still achieving a high-end appearance. It also opens up the possibility of incorporating different materials and textures into a design, giving the finished piece a more dynamic and visually interesting look. By mastering edge banding, woodworkers can take their creations to the next level and truly showcase their skills and creativity.

Fine furniture finishing: achieving showroom-quality

Achieving a showroom-quality finish on your fine furniture is the ultimate goal for any woodworker. It not only enhances the overall appearance of the piece, but it also adds value and longevity. To achieve this level of perfection, it is important to pay attention to every detail of the finishing process. From selecting the right materials to mastering the techniques, every step is crucial to creating a flawless finish. In addition to edge banding, other advanced techniques such as hand-rubbed finishes and French polishing can also elevate the look of your furniture to a professional level. With patience, practice, and attention to detail, you can achieve a showroom-quality finish that will make your furniture stand out as a masterpiece.

Carving mastery: creating intricate designs

Another important aspect of mastering advanced woodworking techniques is the ability to create intricate designs through carving. This skill requires patience, precision, and a steady hand to achieve the desired results. Whether it's adding decorative motifs to furniture pieces or creating stand-alone wood carvings, mastering this technique can elevate the overall aesthetic and value of your work. It takes practice and dedication, but with the right tools and techniques, you can achieve carving mastery and take your woodworking skills to the next level.

Advanced sanding techniques: achieving smoothness

Achieving a smooth finish on wood surfaces is a crucial aspect of advanced woodworking techniques. While sanding may seem like a simple task, there are specific techniques and tools that can help you achieve a flawless finish. The key is to start with a lower-grit sandpaper and gradually work your way up to a higher-grit sandpaper, as this will smooth out imperfections and create a polished surface. Additionally, using a sanding block or a power sander can help provide even pressure and prevent uneven sanding. Remember to always sand with the grain of the wood to avoid creating scratches or marks. With these advanced sanding techniques, you can achieve a professional level of smoothness on your woodworking projects.

Woodturning wizardry: sculpting exquisite forms

Another advanced woodworking technique to master is woodturning. Woodturning is the process of shaping and sculpting wood by rotating it on a lathe while using specialized tools. It requires precision, control, and a deep understanding of the wood's grain and characteristics. With woodturning, woodworkers can create intricate and unique forms, from bowls and vases to decorative objects and furniture components. By honing their woodturning skills, woodworkers can elevate their craft and produce truly exquisite pieces.

In summary, mastering advanced woodworking techniques requires dedication, patience, and a willingness to learn. By continually pushing yourself to try new techniques, you can expand your skills and become a true master in the art of woodworking. With the right tools and knowledge, you can create beautiful and intricate pieces that will stand the test of time. Keep practicing and honing your skills, and soon you will be able to take on any woodworking project with confidence and precision.

FAQ

What are some advanced woodworking techniques that can be used to create intricate designs and patterns in wood?

Some advanced woodworking techniques that can be used to create intricate designs and patterns in wood include marquetry, inlay, carving, and woodturning. Marquetry involves using thin pieces of wood veneer to create detailed and decorative designs on the surface of a larger piece of wood. An inlay refers to the process of cutting out a recess in the wood and fitting it with contrasting materials, such as metal or another type of wood, to create patterns and designs. Carving involves removing wood to create intricate shapes and designs, while woodturning involves shaping wood on a lathe to create symmetrical and detailed patterns.

How can one achieve a seamless and invisible joint when working with different types of wood?

Achieving a seamless and invisible joint when working with different types of wood requires careful planning and precise execution. One key aspect is to select woods with similar grain patterns and colors to ensure a harmonious blend. Proper measurement and cutting techniques, such as using a sharp blade and making accurate cuts, are essential. Additionally, ensuring a tight fit by using clamps or other joining methods, along with using appropriate adhesives, can help create a strong and invisible joint. Sanding and finishing the joint afterward will help to further conceal any visible seams and create a seamless appearance.

What are some effective methods for creating complex curved or angled shapes in wood?

Some effective methods for creating complex curved or angled shapes in wood include using a bandsaw or jigsaw to cut along the desired curve or angle, using a router with a template or jig to shape the wood, using a scroll saw for intricate cuts, and employing steam bending techniques to bend the wood to the desired shape. Additionally, using a combination of hand tools such as chisels, rasps, and files can help refine and shape the wood further.

What are some advanced finishing techniques that can be used to enhance the natural beauty of wood?

Some advanced finishing techniques that can enhance the natural beauty of wood include sanding to a finer grit, using wood dyes or stains to deepen or alter the color, applying multiple coats of clear finish to create depth and shine, using techniques like glazing or distressing to add visual interest, and applying a final coat of wax or polish to enhance the wood's natural luster. These techniques can bring out the grain patterns, highlight the natural color variations, and give the wood a smooth and polished appearance.

How can one master the art of wood carving and create intricate and detailed sculptures from a single piece of wood?

To master the art of wood carving and create intricate sculptures, one must first acquire the necessary tools and materials. Next, it is essential to practice and develop a good understanding of the different carving techniques, such as relief carving and chip carving. Learning from experienced woodcarvers through workshops or online tutorials can be immensely helpful. Patience, attention to detail, and a steady hand are crucial in achieving intricate and detailed sculptures. Beginning with simpler designs and gradually progressing to more complex ones can also aid in honing skills. Regular practice, experimentation, and a genuine passion for the craft are key to becoming a master woodcarver.

[kindlythevoid]

MUTUALS!

I'm writing everyone's names down so I remember. If I do not know your name (and please assume I don't unless you very recently told me (Moss) or your name is very clearly present in your bio and/or pinned intro post!!), please do me a favor and drop your preferred name in the reblogs/comments/tags so I can write it down in my special notes app for y'all.

As a reward for your participation, please take a cookie!

(Hugs will be given out upon receiving the name)

[madamescarlette]

babes I was having such a calm night happily bopping along reading my book eating some carbonara and now I'm staring at my wall wondering how the next thirty minutes could POSSIBLY take any longer.

[unwounding]

Who the fuck are these people asking to "friend" me on LinkedIn we literally have no mutual ties and I'm vaguely paranoid.

[moltengarnet]

My DIY GBA cartridge holder. I’ve acquired about 6 more GBA games since making this, so I kinda wish I made it longer. It’s made of some leftover MDF from a different project I made at the Melbourne Makerspace in FL.

[yonch]

it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever

(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)

ok this got really long. here you go

sif:

ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.

ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.

they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.

they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.

they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers

41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.

isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes

isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork

he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...

kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife

can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!

39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand

mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend

i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her

speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.

she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.

moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.

38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3

odile:

my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay

she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.

she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.

64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"

bonnie:

prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)

speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)

26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise

loop:

ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.

i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that

i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.

ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 29

John “Soap” MacTavish + Muscle/Body Worship

I’m still exhausted from all my homework and exam prep, but the I’m not gonna let that stop me. Readers older than Soap and is retired from the military.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Retirement was strange for you, especially after having been active in the military for most of your life. Now that you had retired, there was very little to do to fill your day, Especially with Soap away still on active duty. Your relationship was a little strange in the eyes of others, mainly because of your age gap, but you were both adult men with careers when you first met and knew what you wanted.

You spent most of your days doing hobbies, like woodwork or messing with junker cars. The people of the town you and Soap lived in knew you as the older ex-military man who took no shit, but knew how to get even the oldest car running, or creating the wildest things outta wood.

The life outside of the military had taken much stress of your shoulders, but the access to any treat you could want and not being on the move at all times was starting to show. You were still strong as an ox and big in width and height, but as time went on a layer of fat gathered over your muscles. You still looked like you could take down a bear singlehandedly, but insecurity was starting to gather in your chest.

Combine your sudden plush and the grey starting to gather in your hair and beard, the ugly voices in your head started to whisper and murmur. A part of your mind was sure that the moment Soap saw you when he came back from duty, hed turn the other way and run for the hills, as you weren’t the man he had left those months ago.

It was that insecurity that had you pulling on an army fleece jacket, one that still fit and served to hide some of your newer bulk, the day you had to go pick him up from the airport. You were chewing your lip as you leaned against a wall near the back, surrounded by other people greeting their loved ones coming home. When you saw Soap, you almost talked yourself out of calling out for him, but before you could make any decision, he spotted you.

The Scot rushed through the crowd with his army bags, his eyes running up and down your body in a way that had your skin crawling enough that you didn’t notice the hunger that grew in them. He groaned as he hugged you, his bags forgotten on the floor as he kissed you, his arms squeezing around your middle as he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grabbing onto your ass or thighs, squeezing the thicker material of your thighs with an appreciative hum.

Insecurity gnawed in your stomach as you pulled back from Soaps hungry lips, clearing your throat as you reached them to scoop up his bags and lug them over his shoulder. You lover huffed about it for a bit, but you just grinned and made your way towards the car, unaware of the holes Soap was burning in your body as he seemed to take in every change he had missed.

The drive back to your home was spent sharing what you’d both missed, you sharing town gossip, and Soap telling you about 141. As you drove, you almost pulled away as Soap grabbed onto your thigh, his strong hand almost kneading the softer muscle under his palm. But seeing as you were driving, you couldn’t pull away like you wanted too, but Soap seemed to notice your discomfort and pulled his hand to himself with a worried furrow to his brow.

When you got home, you could tell Soap wanted to jump you immediately. It was tradition at this point, after being apart for a while, you two would spend hours expressing the feelings you hadn’t been able too all that time. But the insecurity in your body had you avoiding his advances, even though you had missed him just as much as he had missed you.

His pouting and puppy eyes almost had you throwing your insecurities about your body out the window, but then you would pass by a reflective surface, and you would see your thicker body, your rounder stomach or the extra roundness in your cheeks, and your fears would return tenfold.

This continued for a few days, until Soap finally seemed to have enough as you guys were typically better at talking about anything wrong. You had taken to sleep fully clothed, when in the past all you had slept in were a pair of boxers. That night you two were laying in bed, Soap acting as the big spoon as you liked to switch, his face burrowed in your shoulders as he squeezed your middle.

“God, you’re so fucking hot” he groaned, his hips rolling into your back as he exhaled shakily, his lips pressing against the exposed skin of your neck. You found your face growing hot, along with heat pooling in your gut as he murmured out all the things he thought, a shaky exhale leaving you as he ran his hands up under your shirt.

“The moment I saw you, I almost jumped you then and there, right in the airport” he purred, switching from kisses to bites and sucks. You wanted to retort, to claim he was lying, but the way he panted and ground against your back, his hard cock rutting against you made his point clear. He truly didn’t seem to mind your bodies changes, quite the opposite, he seemed almost rabid with how much he loved it.

“Come on love, roll over” he groaned, withdrawing from your back to grab at your shoulders, rolling you onto your back, but not before wrestling the shirt off your torso. You didn’t even have time to gasp out his name before he descended upon you, grabbing, licking, and sucking hickeys all over your torso, moaning against the fat and muscle of your strong torso.

You gripped onto his mohawk, a shuddery gasp leaving you as he licked and sucked between your thick pecs, his eyes locked on your own, looking half mad and starved as Soap worked his way down your body. “This stomach” he growled, gripping onto your stomach and licking over it, his voice rough and almost worshipping in tone.

“These fuckin thighs” Soap groaned out, pulling your sleep pants down your hips to bury his face between them, gripping them to squeeze them around his head. He looked like a man in heaven as you flexed your thighs carefully, squeezing his head softly between them as he so badly seemed to want.

A curse left you as Soap dug his teeth into the meat of your thigh, working like a man possessed to mark them all over as if to make up for lost time. When he finally seemed to have worked his way all over your body, you found yourself aching hard, a wet spot gathering in your boxers.

Soap almost purred as he ran the flat side of his tongue over your shaft through your boxers, his pupils blown and hair a mess. Wrenching down your boxers, he was upon you like a starved animal, sucking you all the way down his throat even as he gagged and coughed, like all Soap wanted was you to fill his mouth.

The noises were slick and wet as he worked his lips up and down you, one of his hands gripping your thick thigh as the other rolled your balls, his acts akin to worship as Soap moaned and groaned like the act brought him just as much pleasure as it brought you.

It had been a while since you had gotten yourself off, you age playing a factor, as your libido wasn’t as high as it had once been without Soap there, so the end quickly hurdled close. “F-fuck, John” you grunted, voice raspy as he looked down at him, his blue eyes staring up at you with such a deep hunger, his movements growing more desperate and his noises needier.

The grip on his mohawk tightened as you clenched your eyes shut, a deep guttural noise leaving you as you spilled into his mouth, thick spurts of white striking the back of his throat and tongue, Soap moaning louder than you as he gulped it all down like it was a delicacy.

Soap gave a few extra sucks and slurps, just to make sure it was all drawn out of you before withdrawing with a lewd pop, his lips red and wet as he grinned wolfishly. A soft chuckle left you as you fell back onto the pillows, grabbing onto his hips as he clambered on top of you. You both knew it would take a while before you could get hard again, but Soap seemed just as happy to start rutting against your stomach, needy noises leaving him as you moved his hips for him in a tight grip.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

4. 𝓘𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓼

(Y/n) stirred in her bed, a faint smile of contentment gracing her lips as she slowly awoke from a restful slumber. However, as her eyes fluttered open, she realized she was in an entirely unfamiliar room.

The lavish bedroom enveloped her, featuring a grand bed adorned with light burgundy covers. Towering windows, concealed by beautiful curtains of the same hue, blocked any intrusion of sunlight. The walls bore intricate woodwork painted black, while an imposing black chandelier dangled from the ceiling. To her left, a set of shelves displayed a collection of exquisite porcelain dolls, the kind she only saw in the exclusive toy shops of the city.

Startled by the sound of a creaking door, (Y/n) snapped her head in its direction, memories of the horrifying events flooding her mind. She rapidly propelled herself out of the bed, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the approaching figure. Her back met the cold, unforgiving wall, and her eyes remained locked on the intruder, a monster wearing the guise of a man, who strode into the room.

"You're awake," the vampire noted, and she whimpered, her fear of a repeat of the brutality she had witnessed overwhelming her.

"Please," she implored, her voice but a whisper as she hugged herself for comfort. "Don't hurt me."

The duke halted in his advance, his face marked by a perplexed frown. "Hurting you, starshine ? That is ludicrous," he objected, almost horrified at the thought.

Unable to contain her fear, (Y/n) broke down. Hugging her knees to her chest, she wept. "You slaughtered my parents," she cried, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. "I will be the next, won't I?"

It was only when the vampire placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she noticed his proximity. "Never," the monster replied, his tone far gentler now. "Do you not understand, doll? I took you in. You are my child now."

With uncertainty and fear etched into her expression, (Y/n) raised her head. "My parents..."

"Don't matter," he curtly interjected, his eyes narrowing as a possessive glint emerged in his eyes. "I shall be your father now."

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

It had only been a few hours since she had woken up in this manor. (Y/n) had slightly calmed down, but the presence of the vampire, always somewhere next to her, was suffocating. The nobleman was delusional. In his delusion, he wished her to see him as her father, the very same father he had so brutally taken from her.

Her heart thumped as he brushed her hair with a sickeningly tender care. She sat before a black vanity, and he loomed behind her, treating her as if she were some doll to be played with.

In this moment, the vampire held the upper hand, his immortal capabilities making him the dominant figure. But (Y/n) understood that she had to bide her time, to either wait for him to grow tired of her or for an opportunity to escape. The being wanted a child, a girl to pamper, yet (Y/n) was eleven, and she knew that he would eventually tire of her. He would either let her go or kill her. She gulped as she thought about that alternative. The girl would have to behave, so that the duke would like her enough to not end her life.

"I cannot wait until your twelfth birthday," announced the man with a soft smile.

"What will happen on my birthday ?" She asked with uncertainty.

"Your turning," he replied with an unsettling excitement.

A chill ran down (Y/n)'s back. "Turning ?" She repeated. She wasn’t sure of what he meant by that, but she had a feeling this was anything but good for her.

"You will be turned into a vampire once you reach the age of twelve," he declared matter of factly. "I would have turned you now, but laws are unfortunately against it."

The human shook her head, and he tutted, his dissatisfaction palpable. "I don't want to be a vampire," she urgently protested.

"This is a gift, starshine," the man rebutted with insistence. Steadily, she stood up, and he sighed in frustration. Catching her wrist, he prevented her from getting away from him. "This matter isn't debatable," he hissed, his eyes narrowing in a display of authority.

His grip on her wrist tightened and she felt as if a coldness emanated from his hand, freezing the girl's hand. She cried out when she saw ice encasing her wrist and tried to free herself, her struggles a futile effort against his supernatural strength and abilities.

"You will stop your little fuss at once and will behave," he growled with fury, and she flinched at the dangerous look in his eyes. "Understood?"

With a slow nod, she reluctantly acknowledged his dominance, her gaze lowered in fear as she withdrew her hand and settled back into her seat, her trembling hands resting on her lap. The ice forming on it had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"You foolish child," he hissed, continuing to brush her hair with increasing force, bordering on painful. "You don't understand the gift I'm offering you. Immortality, power, and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. You would never have to suffer or feel pain again."

The girl recoiled slightly as his voice grew more menacing, but she refused to give in to his words. "I don't want any of those things if it means becoming a monster like you," she said firmly, looking him straight in the eye through the mirror.

He used more strength and she winced in pain. "You're being ungrateful," he snarled. "You don't understand the power and freedom that comes with being a vampire. You'll never have to worry about death or weakness again." He leaned in closer, his breath cold against her ear. "And you'll never be alone. I'll always be there for you, to guide and protect you."

Trembling with fear, (Y/n) was repulsed by the idea of being eternally bound to this monster. "I don't want your guidance or protection," she stated firmly, her resolve unbroken.

"You are but a mere child," he scoffed dismissively. "You don't know what is best for you. You shall thank me for this one day."

The girl continued to tremble in fear, but she remained steadfast, determined to find a way to escape his grasp and safeguard herself from the monstrous creature before her. She knew little about vampires, but she was aware of their inability to withstand the sun.

Soon though, a crease formed on her forehead as she muttered to herself, "Vampires can't withstand the sun."

The duke's gaze locked onto her, acknowledging her statement. "Indeed," he confirmed.

Biting her lip, she continued, "But you can walk in the sun. I saw you do so before."

He acquiesced, lips quirked up with amusement, his eyes shimmering. His left hand rose, unveiling a ring adorned with a small orange gemstone. "This is a chevalier ring, an expensive and sought-after artifact that shields vampires from the sun's harsh glare."

"The ring protects you from the sun ?"she inquired further, wanting to know more about this item.

"More accurately, the carnelian within," he clarified with a nod. "Few possess the ability to craft them."

Tilting her head, she pondered, "So not many vampires have them?"

He nodded solemnly. "It is reserved for the more respectable ones. But worry not; I shall have one crafted for you upon your turning."

Fear took hold and her body went cold with dread once again.

“Smile, dear,” he urged, as if what he planned to do to her was something to celebrate. “This is for the best.”

[mayapapaya33]

So maybe I'm in a very niche corner of the internet, but I really need the same Dante's Inferno nerds that crawled out of the woodwork for Unreal Unearth by Hozier to come watch Dead Boy Detectives and analyze the shit out of it Please and Thank You. Edwin's Notebook with the map of Hell in it is very Dante. In episode 7 we clearly went through parts of Limbo, Lust and Gluttony to get to the Creepy Babydoll Spider Demon place, fuck if I know what part of Hell that was lol. Thank you in advance.

[drgrlfriend]

@brilcrist created this lovely art depicting a scene from my fic! My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

That is … definitely a guy fighting with a bow and arrow.  He’s tall and blond — could probably pass for Steve at a distance, but maybe even a touch taller and built a bit leaner — wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a fancy-looking recurve bow in his hand and a quiver strapped slantways across his back.  He’s got his back to a giant maple tree, and is firing arrows in a blur of motion while ducking lasers from the bots.  These ones look a little like the Daleks from that show Tony and Bruce love — vaguely conical and stumpy, with what seems to be a single laser on each.  

“Why ain’t he gettin’ up in that tree?” Bucky wonders aloud, revving through the preserve.  “It’s a better tactical position.”  He’s starting to see scattered bots now, and he slaloms a course through them, swinging his metal arm and sending them flying as he zooms by.

“Not everyone has sniper training,” Sam suggests.  “He’s probably just some archery hobbyist, or something.  Probably doesn’t know the first damn thing about fighting.”

A bot has gotten close up on the guy’s flank, and he seems to realize just in time.  He somersaults sideways, coming up with an arrow in his hand and jamming it directly into the bot’s side just as a shot from Redwing finishes it off.  

“I don’t know about that,” Steve says dryly.  “Seems to be doing pretty good to me.  Either way, we’re almost on him; Bucky, I’ll take the right side, you take the left.”

“Copy.”  There’s a line of bots advancing on the guy and Bucky pulls up with a sharp twist, planting his left foot and letting the rear of the bike skid sideways so that the back wheel takes out the bots like a row of dominoes.

Out of the corner of his eye Bucky sees Steve hurtle over the handlebars of his own motorcycle and yeet the whole damn thing at a cluster of bots.  No finesse, that guy.

Bucky jumps off his bike, swinging at the bots closest to him.  He’s just about dealt with that cluster and is only a few paces away from the archer when the guy’s eyes widen.  He lunges toward Bucky, pushing him aside just as one of the bots on the ground fires.

The man yelps and staggers, pressing a hand to his side.

“What kind of idiot are you?” Bucky growls, pulling the man back and putting his own body between him and the bot.  “Let me take the hits!” 

A furrow appears between the man’s brows, his mouth gaping for a moment, and then he seems to shake it off, nocking another arrow and loosing it.  It skims so close to Bucky’s face that it stirs his hair, and Bucky whirls to see another bot was sneaking up on him.

“Jesus, these things are everywhere,” Bucky complains, drawing his Glock and firing, taking out the laser of the one on the ground.  

“There’s a weak spot in the armor plating on the left side,” the man yells.  

Time seems to stop for a moment, Bucky’s heart stuttering and then kicking into overdrive.  The air around him suddenly seems crystal clear — Bucky can see every individual leaf on every tree, can hear the sighing of the wind and the rustle of the leaves, the whirring of the bots and the heartbeat and panting breaths of the guy as he ducks another laser.

“Bucky, did he —” Steve starts over the comm.

“Not now, Stevie,” Bucky manages.  He shakes off his shock and forcibly shoves the revelation to the back of his mind in order to focus on the task at hand.  Time seems to lurch back into a normal speed and Bucky concentrates on blocking the man from the line of fire of the largest cluster of approaching bots.

“I’ll make an opening, you run for it,” he shouts.

“I’m not leaving,” the man shouts back.  Jesus christ, another vigilante-wannabe.  They’re coming out of the woodwork these days.  Was this guy even in the park when all this started, or did he come looking for a fight?

“Watch your back,” Bucky instructs with a mental shrug, and then there’s no more time for words, the two of them fighting fiercely against the oncoming wave of bots.  

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I realise you're HE, but any thoughts on how high school level education should be run/changed/etc? I'd love to know your views!

Oh sure, plenty, but they're not particularly informed lol

Well; Wales is actually massively and fundamentally changing secondary education atm, but we won't be getting students from it until the year after next, I think, so no real comment on effectiveness yet - but it's very interesting. They're getting rid of isolated subjects in favour of broad umbrella areas, as I understand it? So there's now Science and Technology (Physics, Biology, Chemistry, Computing, and all the various DT subjects like Woodwork, Electronics, Cookery, etc), Maths and Numeracy, Humanities (History, Geography, Ethics, Religion), Languages Literacy and Communication, and Health and Wellbeing (actually maybe Cookery comes under this one now? Dunno.) And there's a sixth to do with arts but I can't remember what it's called. But it includes Art, Drama, Media Studies, etc.

And then the idea is that a class will learn about a given topic at a time (I don't know for how long, so let's say six weeks), and this will be taught in each of those six umbrellas but via their own methods. So like... I dunno, let's say the Tudors:

That's fairly straightforward for Humanities, but in addition to giving you the historical facts you'd also explore historic trade routes and natural resources of the time and how they related to the politics (geography), the religious make up of the country and how THAT related to the politics (religion), etc.

Maths and Numeracy might explore how to use statistics to analyse Tudor era population or trade data.

Science and Tech could look at disease outbreaks and virology, or technological advancements and how they worked and get students to build one, or get students to construct a Tudor-era town using computer software

Languages can study plays from the era (Shakespeare), look at linguistic development, or use historical events as talking points to practice using vocab in conversations

Health and Wellbeing can explore stressors and challenges of the average Medieval peasant and how they overcame them, or play some popular Tudor sport or game, or make food to Tudor recipes, etc

The Arts one (god I cannot remember the name) can look at art history of the period, fashions, perform plays, etc

So everyone is still teaching the skills and knowledge of their subject areas, they're just united by one big case study. It apparently allows for far more integrated teaching, too, where two previously discrete subjects can join forces on a project.

All of which seems pretty good, on the whole, but also rife with issues if everyone isn't careful, so we'll see how it shakes out over the next few years.

From my own experiences of school though. Jesus. Something definitely needed to happen, fuck me.

What I should have learned in Textiles:

How to use a sewing machine

How to sew by hand to mend a tear

How to darn a hole

How to hem, dart, take in, and let out clothes

How to sew from a pattern

What I actually learned in Textiles:

How to use a sewing machine on its most basic setting

How to phone in creating a hand puppet out of felt because gluing was easier than sewing

How to badly sew an extremely makeshift and shit bag out of scrap fabric that you in no way want to then use

How to lose all interest in Textiles because it was useless and uninteresting

Like that is a VITAL skillset-imparting subject, and they fucked it, lads, they completely fucked it. Why did they never set us the task of buying a cheap shirt from a charity shop that we then amended in class? That would have been so useful.

Games and PE! Fucking hell! Here's what I should have learned:

How to stretch my body safely to target specific muscle groups, and in particular, how to cultivate a daily stretching routine I enjoyed and wanted to do

How to find a physical activity active enough to get me out of breath that I genuinely enjoyed, so that I wanted to continue it, e.g. salsa dancing or rope climbing or ice skating or hill climbing or assault courses or fucking anything at all

How to build my body up to doing particular activities safely and sustainably

How to find a physical activity to do on wet, cold, rainy days that would still be fun and I would still enjoy

Here's what I actually learned:

Physical activity is always uncomfortable and miserable and sometimes even painful

If you aren't enjoying running around in the wind and rain instead of the indoor gym The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.

Wanting to stay warm and dry and comfortable is a punishable choice.

You are only permitted to do physical activity in clothes that make you feel profoundly exposed and uncomfortable (a gym skirt and gym knickers in my school. Cycling shorts got you detention. Don't get me started on jogging bottoms.) Again, if you do not enjoy this, The Problem Is You. Start Enjoying It.

There are only three activity options. If you don't enjoy any of them, physical activity is not for you.

You should be able to Just Do physical exercise, without any training to build you up to it. If you can't and it hurts, this is because you're Bad At PE.

You will only be shown Once

Physical activity is only ever a team sport that you aren't good enough to be willingly picked for

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK

And you know what, LET'S round off with Food Technology/Cookery. Because I remember the things I was asked to make in FT. As a little baby Year 7, I still vividly remember two of the things we made.

Angel Delight. Easy, you might say! A simple treat, you might think! Easing the children into food prep, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was healthy eating, and so we were to add fruit to our Angel Delight. Any flavour Angel Delight, any fruit. Off you go. I don't know if any of you have encountered fruit, Tumblrs, but it famously has faintly acidic juice. This will prevent the Angel Delight from setting within the one hour lesson, no matter how well you mixed the pudding, or how quickly you got it into the fridge. It will result in soggy gross lumps of oxidising fruit in sloppy liquid pudding. Lesson learned: fruit makes food worse.

Cake. Easyish, you might say! A little harder than the Angel Delight but good training, you might think! A fairly straightforward process with a child-friendly food at the end, I hear you cry! But no, because the theme of the year was still healthy eating, so the teachers made it into an experiment; make four small cakes. One with sugar, one with sweetener, one with apple, and one with carrot. Then taste them and rank them in order. Off you go. I don't know if any of you have ever tried eating sugarless carrot cake, Tumblrs, but I have, and I can tell you categorically that it really puts the "Did you know" into the phrase "Did you know that fructose and sucrose are not actually equivalents of each other in a culinary setting?" It was rancid. It was disgusting. It was vile. It made me hate carrot cake for the next 12 years, in case my mouth had to go through that ordeal again. I'm still highly suspicious of the stuff even now. To (I assume) the surprise of fuck-damned no one, we unanimously put them in the order of sugar, sweetener, apple, carrot. Lesson learned: FRUIT MAKES FOOD WORSE AND CARROTS ARE ACTIVELY DISGUSTING

What possessed them?! No idea. Fucking hell.

Anyway this is getting long and I am still ill-informed. Peace out.

[mrmannequinmark5000]

Introduction

hello.. My Name is Mark. I am years old livig in the South ad i love wood.

stay OFF MY BLOG @wallterthetall

i MAde my OWN wooden Nokia phone form scratch because i don,t believe in bying phones from them corportrate shops for 9,999 dollars. and I heard that tublr is a good wepsite so.... I made a tumbrl account. if you,re one of them tumblr experts.. give this old man some advice.!

It is veryr hard to type on thisp hone becase the keys are small and I have big finger s. Don't be mean to me abuot my typig or Else i will report you to the Blox County Police.

Here are picturs of Me building back in the day. i was a very handsome man.. i know..

I do woodworking and repair. Need a hnad? Call ############# to gET up to 51% off of uour house exteroir repair . i will also make wood sculptures if asked...usually for free. .

Please be nice to me -(a bald souther n man)

[DISCLAIMER: a lot of the posts made on this blog will sound like they were made in a room leaking carbon monoxide rather than by a 50 year old bald white southern man that really likes wood. or they'll sound like both. in advance i am so sorry]

[OOC SIDE NOTE: EVERYONE IS ENCOURAGED TO SPAM MY INBOX!!]

[mazerunner-rarepairs]

Maze Runner Rarepair Bingo awards!

can i just say - wow. WOW! you guys absolutely blew me away with your enthusiastic participation in this event. it was amazing to see so many new fans creep out of the woodworks and connect with the fandom, as well as seeing well known faces join in the fun. 16 people participated, and we have 46 new, gorgeous rarepair works in the ao3 collection (check it out!). so many new ideas fluttering around the room - cheers to everyone who participated!

on to the awarding of the fannish medals of honor!

congrats for filling 1-2 squares!

toby-du-coeur @toby-du-coeur

subjecta5newtella @subjecta5newtella

justtorzaplease @justtorzaplease

go-catch-a-chickn @go-catch-a-chickn

strawberry23487 @strawberry23487

astralpenguin @astralpenguin

star--anon @star--anon

congratulations for getting bingo!

newtedison @newtedison

walkinroadkillz @walkinroadkillz

•            kestis-advent @kestis-advent

3 squares and 2 extra rare advanced ao3 board squares!

•            nxwtonsxngster @nxwtonsxngster

congratulations for getting 2 bingos!

•            scorchedmazes (and 2 extra rare advanced ao3 board squares!) @scorchedmazes

congratulations for getting 3 bingos!

•            get-the-medjacks (and filling the extra rare advanced ao3 board!) @get-the-medjacks

congratulations for getting both full boards!

•            st4rfvckerr @st4rfvckerr

•            its-tea-time-darling @its-tea-time-darling

•            directionarplusgleek @directionerplusgleek

thank you all again for participating <3

[starcurtain]

Haikaveh Fanfics I Want to Read (Part 2)

<- Part 1.

Part 3. ->

1. The Palace of Alcarzarzaray might be called Kaveh’s magnum opus, but actually, it was more like a kick-start for his career. Kaveh hasn’t known a moment of peace since, with constant commissioners begging for him to choose their projects. The longer his waiting list gets, the more his fame grows and grows... So when a pair of people come out of the woodwork insisting they’re Kaveh’s long-lost parents, Alhaitham thinks it’s only right to be skeptical.

Kaveh agrees (for once), but... they’re so nice to him, and apparently he’s got siblings, and they haven't asked him for anything; they say they never meant to leave him, and they love him, and--and--how could he just turn them away? What if it’s true?

What if he has a real family?

Of course, when these so-called parents start encouraging Kaveh to move back home with them, Alhaitham becomes determined to unravel the lie and show them for the imposters they (almost) certainly are.

It’s only because it irks him to see people twist the truth and get away with it. It’s only because the logical step is to point out obvious manipulations when you spot them.

It’s got nothing at all to do with how empty the house will feel if Kaveh isn’t in it.

Nothing at all.

  Rest under the read more:

2. Okay, listen. The fact that Kaveh and Alhaitham are both 12s out of 10 does not change the fact that they’re also MASSIVE NERDS. The fic is just silly snippets of them being the graduate school gremlins they most definitely are:

Is it even fighting if all you are doing is reciting academic citations at each other?  

Saturday night, we are both at home doing nothing but debating over the rules to an ancient word game that we’ve mostly pieced together from the barest disconnected snippets of apocrypha and one oblique reference in a single receipt of sale from 1600 years ago, because we are Normal™. The most normal people in Sumeru, even.  

How Althaitham flirts: Practicing his newest language acquisition by translating nothing but obscure ancient love letters (“Well, they could have had romantic intention but we shouldn’t allow modern interpretations to color our perceptions without thorough analysis of their semantic contexts and candid awareness of the moral obligation of the translator to avoid speculation on connotations which might privilege biased readings--”). Then he heaps his transcriptions all over the top of Kaveh’s desk and chair and bed and...  

How Kaveh flirts: “I built you a bookshelf.”   “I take back every uncharitable thing I’ve said about architecture this week.”   “It is both climate-controlled and self-dusting. Also, it will catalog which books are missing after they’re removed from the shelf and remind you when it’s time to put them back in place so that you’re not tempted to leave your moldy tomes all over my--”   “Wait, who is this bookshelf actually for?”  

“See, I’m allowed to criticize his work, but you, peon, are absolutely not. Here is my 50-page rebuttal of your recent article critiquing the architect Kaveh’s research, in which I will outline exactly why you are an incomparable idiot who should be disbarred from publication ever again. Very uncordially, Alhaitham”  

The only time Alhaitham and Kaveh are unequivocally, indisputably, and inseparably a T E A M: Tavern Trivia Night. (The schedule for tavern trivia night is shortly thereafter altered to: “Any time in which Kaveh and Alhaitham are not on the premises. The management apologizes in advance for last minute trivia night cancellations, but asks patrons to please respect the rule that not even a single trivia question be spoken in the presence of the Light of Kshahrewar or the Akademiya’s scribe.”)

In other words, two geniuses live their very best lives together.

  3. When Prince Alhaitham's viziers started nagging about his lack of spouse to ensure an heir, he dismissed them out of hand. But the truth is, he can't inherit the full privileges of his family's throne (including unfettered access to the kingdom's collection of forbidden records) unless he upholds an ancient peace treaty between his country and their most useful trading neighbor: to become king of Haravatat, he has to marry a citizen of Kshahrewar. Alhaitham isn't the type to bow to social or legal pressure, but if it means he might finally be able to further his research, well, he's willing to swear even a marriage oath to get the knowledge he desires.

But he's not willing to marry anyone unworthy. He's not willing to marry anyone boring, or rote, or feeble-minded, or ill-tempered, or shrill, or under-educated, or ambivalent, or weak, or too polite, or--

If Kshahrewar is going to insist on a political marriage, then Alhaitham will insist on accepting only the best.

But now things are starting to look grim. Prince Alhaitham has interviewed and dismissed (in no polite terms), every eligible Kshahrewar maiden and and no small number of their eligible men besides. For Alhaitham, this is but a formality on his way to further reading, but for the Kingdom of Kshahrewar, real fears are stirring--if they can't find an acceptable candidate soon, the peace treaty that has ensured their alliance with Haravatat’s military-might could dissolve, and already the neighboring powers of Vahumana and Spantamad have been testing the boundaries of their borders...

Entirely out of options, the nervous kingdom gives in and sends the last person they'd want to lose: the Light of Kshahrewar, their beloved architect and most renowned scholar.

But it's all right, because Kaveh has a Plan®.

All right, admittedly, the plan was a lot closer to "Be way too beautiful to reject" than "Argue all night and wake up just to argue again," but hey, whatever works?

(Also known as: The Thousand and One Nights AU where Alhaitham's not quite crazy enough to kill the people he rejects but will crush their self-confidence; Kaveh's not great at telling stories but is great at debate; and the ultimate outcome is still the same very cliffhangery happy ever after.)

  4. If you asked Kaveh Kshahrewar, on-call urban planner for the city of Sumeru, he would expound at length and with several melodramatic sighs upon the fact that his life is fraught with a great many challenges and his fortunes are fraught with a great many (obvious in retrospect) mistakes.

To put it simply, Kaveh will tell you he just has rotten luck.

If you were to ask the High Council of Principalities of the Fifth Ring of the Host of Heaven, they would tell you that Kaveh’s luck is actually quite good... for a person in the targets of the dark legions of Hell itself.

There are some exceptional humans upon whom the wheels of fate are hung, whose very existence is destined to bring beautiful things to the world, to tip the balance in the eternal fight between good and evil firmly toward good. Kaveh is one such person, and therefore all his life he’s been a target of unseen forces that would rather see his light snuffed out.

But that last near-death experience was too close. If Kaveh is left to his own devices much longer, he very likely will perish, long before he’s able to achieve his fated great works for the world. Heaven has to do something.

Alhaitham is a very, very efficient Principality. Maybe the most efficient Principality the Host of Heaven has. But he’s never--not once since the beginning of creation--been called on to actually guard a human. Yes, yes, of course he’s read the manual cover to closing, but...

But no one thought to warn him that they were so very emotional.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?!”

“I’m your guardian angel. I live here now.”

“911, I need to report a home invasion in progress! Please send help, there is a lunatic eating raw butter out of my fridge!”

(Or: The guardian angel AU where Kaveh is disaster prone because he is Very Cursed, and Alhaitham is even weirder than normal because his frame of reference for humans is still “wears fig leaves.” It’s a tragicomedy in six acts: Kaveh’s going to change the world for the better. His future is already written in stone. And nowhere in that record is there anything about falling in love with an angel, so Alhaitham knows he’s not supposed to be anything more than a bit part in this grand story.

Too bad Kaveh’s always sympathized with the side characters most.)

  5. During an exploratory trip to the desert ruins looking for remnants of the Deshret Script, lone researcher Alhaitham discovers a strange--and, in fact, magical--teapot, containing none other than a beautiful (but rather noisy) djinn.

“My name is Kaveh.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I’m a djinn.”

“I can tell.”

“I’ll grant you three wishes, if and only if--”

“Five wishes.”

“What?”

“You should grant me five wishes.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked politely.”

“You absolutely did not! Ugh, fine, I’ll grant you five wishes. But only--and I mean only!--if you’ll agree to set me free at the end.”

“All right, I swear.”

But where are they now?! Kaveh is getting desperate. It’s been six months, and Alhaitham hasn’t made a single wish! At this rate, Kaveh will never get free! He’ll be stuck bunking in a house full of tacky furniture, being tricked into doing the laundry and sweeping forever! This is so unfair; how is it even allowed?! Alhaitham is human; he has to have some kind of wish in that stone-thick head of his!

(The truth is, Alhaitham does have a wish. It just can’t be granted.

He swore an oath to set Kaveh free, after all.)

[nirikeehan]

Gonna wambo combo you from the Sexual Tension Prompt list for Thalia/Blackwall for "[ BRUSH ] : Character A reaches forward to brush a strand of Character B’s hair from their eyes." and "[ WET ] : The characters find one another in a torrential downpour of rain, both soaking wet." >:]

ALL RIGHT OKAY IT'S THACKWALL HORNY HOURS TONIGHT

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1525

Strap in, I also managed to shove in the following prompts:

sleeve rolling (thanks @theluckywizard)

public touching and pretending to be a couple (thanks @oxygenforthewicked)

pushing against a wall and kissing without warning (thanks @oxygenforthewicked AND @about2dance)

---

She sits beside him on the table he’s set up for woodworking. They talk late into the evening, the air in the stables going cold when the sun goes down. Thalia’s face stays warm, watching the way Blackwall works with his hands. He’s deft and sure in everything he does, each stroke and every nail. She watches his fingers, large and calloused as they are, and wonders. Her stomach flips, not unpleasantly. 

At one point, he rolls his sleeves to the elbow and catches her looking at the naked flesh. 

“Like what you see, my lady?” 

She thinks he might be smirking. She slides off the table, onto her feet. She tries to bring herself back to earth. 

“I’m terribly late for dinner.” She’s stuttering over her words, like a damned schoolgirl. 

She can feel his eyes on her back with every stride through the courtyard she takes. 

—

At a tavern in an unfriendly village, they need information. The commonfolk are hostile toward Grey Wardens, it seems; they feel abandoned by those who came through before, then left in the name of the False Calling. 

“Why do you ask?” says the barkeep, eyes narrowed across the counter. “You one of ‘em?” 

“Me? Never.” Blackwall laughs long and hard, terribly convincing. “It’s just that me and the missus are mighty curious about where they’ve gone. Her brother, you see, joined up a few years ago. She pines for him something fierce, don’t you, love?”

His gaze is upon her, expectant. Thalia hunches over in her barstool, hoping her blush isn’t visible in the dim torchlight. “That’s right,” she says softly. “If anything happened to him, I’d never forgive myself.” 

She can’t conceive of this world, where she would care enough to pursue a lost brother. But then, she can’t fathom being married to Blackwall, either. He reaches over and places a hand on the nape of her neck, laying it on thick for the barkeep, and her heart thumps and thumps. Grey Wardens have relationships sometimes, right? The Hero of Ferelden would have married Good King Alistair, if he hadn’t sacrificed himself ending the last Blight. It’s been known to happen.

She rests her hand on the wrist Blackwall uses to cup his stein of ale. Her fingers tingle. This is an act, of course. Isn’t it? 

The barkeep watches them long and hard. Then he breaks into a toothless smile, accompanied by a salty laugh. “This’s your wife? How’d you manage that, you old dog?” 

“Ah, well, you know. She keeps me young.” Blackwall winks. 

“I bet she does.” The barkeep’s gaze lingers on them a touch too long, and Thalia doesn’t know whether she’s mortified or pleased. Maybe a little of both.

Outside the tavern, after mulling over the leads they’ve been given, Thalia glances upward at Warden Blackwall’s face, so unreadable in the gathering dark. “Is it really so hard to believe?”

“What? You n’ me, my lady?” 

She feels his eyes upon her; it is not, strictly speaking, the look an honorable knight gives a lady. She knows this, and she likes it, to some degree. He is a bit older than her — so what? Girls her age — and below — married men of advanced age all the time. 

“I could—” She grasps for something clever and witty to say. “—Keep you young. Like you said.” 

Blackwall lets out a hearty laugh. “Begging your pardon, but you speak like you don’t know what that means.”

“I know what it means!” Thalia huffs. 

Blackwall stands over her, close enough to touch. “But you’ve never…?”

Now she’s mortified for sure. “That’s not an appropriate question to ask a lady.” She storms past him, toward their camp, before this gets out of hand. 

She thinks she hears him chuckling in the dark behind her. 

—

Thalia never knew it could rain so hard in the desert. The Western Approach’s sky, she thought, would forever be an endless, scorching blue. But the clouds roll in without warning, a dark purplish grey. The rain falls in torrents, turning the sands to mud and drenching her in seconds. She runs for shelter in the awning of an ancient fortress, tumbledown stones persisting for hundreds of years. 

She lets her hair down, pulling fingers through the long, tangled strands, wringing it out like a cloth. There is satisfaction to the lightness that ensues. The air, likewise, possesses a strange, clean scent, as if the landscape itself has been wiped clean by the downpour. 

She hears a throat clearing behind her. Thalia snaps her head up; Blackwall stands in the dark of the archway, similarly soaked. His grey eyes almost seem to glow as their gazes meet. 

Thalia gasps and turns away, her hair long and limp over her shoulders, hanging heavy to her waist. He saw! He isn’t supposed to see! She trembles, suddenly freezing as the wind picks up and hits her clammy skin. 

“F-forgive me, Warden Blackwall,” she says through chattering teeth. “In Ostwick, highborn girls are not to let men — unmarried men — see them with their hair down. It’s beyond scandalous.” 

She feels silly saying this out loud, but it’s true — despite knowing, intellectually, other women do this all the time, she feels as though he caught her with her trousers down and can’t bear to look at him. She scrambles for the rock wall, trying to get out of sight so she can plait her hair again and pin it back up and at last be able to face him. 

His hand grasps her shoulder. Thalia freezes, her heart pounding. Water drips off her nose and chin, and her breath stutters. 

“Strange customs they’ve got in Ostwick,” Blackwall mumbles low in her ear. His fingers trace their way to the nape of her neck. He draws the hair away from her skin, tantalizingly slow. A warm tingling shoots down Thalia’s spine to her toes. “I thought the cheese wheel chase was the height of it.” 

Thalia forces herself to face him. He’s so handsome, painfully so, with hair that shines black and the mighty beard and the distinguished lines of his face. She’s no doubt he’s known many women — she can sense this in his confidence, which comes out when she least expects it. Like now. She swallows hard and tentatively puts her hand on the damp sleeves of his gambeson. 

“I like the cheese wheel chase,” is all she can think to say, like an idiot. 

Blackwall lets out a laugh. “Never said I didn’t like it.” His hand cups her face, and Thalia thinks she might perish. Is she dreaming this? It wouldn’t be the first time. “Tell me, my lady — what happens when an unmarried man spies an Ostwick maid with her hair down?” 

“There’s, ah, varying stories.” 

“Of course there are.”

“In some of them, the girl and offending voyeur must get married on the spot.” 

Blackwall chuckles. “Shame there’s no Chantry mother in this forsaken desert. Makes it difficult to say vows.” 

“In others, the girl is branded a harlot and cast out from her household.” 

Blackwall’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Thalia swallows hard. “I didn’t come up with these tales!” 

“What if there’s no one to see their transgression?” His hands have moved, one to the small of her back, the other to her collarbone, just above her left breast. “What if it’s just him and her, and they can do whatever they like, and no one will be the wiser?” 

Thalia’s heart races. “I— ah, it’s hard — to say—”

He pushes her against the stone wall and kisses her. He tastes of rainwater and smells, faintly, of the woodsmoke that wafted off that morning’s campfire. The weight of him against her through damp fabric feels both exciting and dangerous. She worries he can tell she’s never done this before, but with a groan he deepens the kiss, the hand squeezing her breast, and she realizes that perhaps he doesn’t care. She’s not sure she does either. 

She tangles her fingers in the wet hair at the nape of his neck and tests out leaning into him as they kiss. She feels him respond immediately, and knows with a thrill of trepidation they really could do anything they wanted — who would bear witness? The desolate sand? 

“—Bloody fuck.” Blackwall tears himself away with a violent wrench, leaving Thalia grasping for the wall behind her, dizzy.

“I’m sorry— did I— do something wrong?” She rakes the hair from her eyes, her desire curdling in her belly. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Blackwall growls. 

“That is, I think, what I was trying to say earlier.” Is this a joke? Thalia feels a strange desire to laugh. “But you were going on about cheese wheels…”

“You’ve no idea how enticing you are, do you?” His voice sounds, somehow, both reverent and repulsed. “How bloody enchanting?” 

Thalia does not know how to answer that. 

He cackles again, though the mirth is gone, and turns away, scrubbing the water from his face with his palm. Thalia reaches forward, taking his elbow, and tries to think of what to say that won’t wreck everything. 

[tinnictheguardian]

Head Canon: All the sons of Feanor had crafts

I have been reading a fair bit of Silmarillion fics, and I noticed that there were quite a few fics where Maedhros doesn't have a craft. Now this is a fair enough headcanon because only Curufin is explicitly said to take after his father. Also, Celegrom, Amras and Amrod are explicitly said to be hunters.

However, I believe that someone as aggressively Noldo as Feanor would insist all his sons specialise in some sort of craft. So here's my headcanon on which son of Feanor had which craft:

Maedhros - Woodworking, but obviously, he can't do it once he loses his hand

Maglor - musical instruments and weaving - he sings while he weaves

Celegrom - leatherworking to go with his hunting

Caranthir - painting, including paint and dye-making, also paper making and framing

Curufin - weaponsmithing and, before that, gold and silver smithing

Amrod and Amras - bone carving and furrier, again to go with them being great hunters

Also, I noticed that in a lot of fics, Noldo used quills, but I am pretty sure they had pens. I think this is an issue where people aren't sure how technologically advanced the Noldo are supposed to be. Certainly, Tolkien doesn't make it clear but I don't think it makes a lot of sense to assume that the Noldo would not have replaced quills with fountain pens in all the time they dwelt in Valinor. Especially since fountain pens can be true works of art!

I don't know. To me, there is something extremely Noldo elven about beautiful fountain pens and good quality ink products. Of course, the Noldo would start using quil once they are reduced to refugees following Nirnaeth Arnoediad. But before that, I think they used metal pens.