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pelcas-beauty · 8 months

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Are Vertical Lines on Your Nails an Unhealthy Sign?

Nails, although often overlooked, can provide valuable insights into our overall health. From changes in color to alterations in texture, our nails can serve as indicators of underlying medical conditions. One such change that may catch your attention is the appearance of vertical lines on your nails. But, are these lines cause for concern? In this blog, we'll explore the various factors that can lead to vertical lines on your nails and when you should consider them a potential health warning.

Understanding Vertical Lines

Vertical lines on nails, also known as longitudinal ridges or striations, are parallel lines that run from the base of the nail to the tip. These lines can vary in appearance and severity, and they may appear on one or more nails. While vertical lines on nails can be a common occurrence and often harmless, they can sometimes indicate an underlying issue that requires attention.

Common Causes of Vertical Lines

Aging: As we get older, it's common for vertical lines to appear on our nails. These lines can be a natural result of the aging process and are generally nothing to worry about.

Injury or Trauma: If you've recently experienced an injury to your nail or fingertip, vertical lines may develop as a result. These lines usually grow out with the nail and are a temporary concern.

Nutritional Deficiencies: A lack of essential nutrients, such as vitamins, minerals, and proteins, can affect the health of your nails, leading to the development of vertical lines.

Dehydration: Chronic dehydration can impact the appearance of your nails, causing them to become brittle and develop ridges.

Medical Conditions: In some cases, vertical lines may be a sign of an underlying medical condition, such as psoriasis, eczema, or anemia. These conditions may affect nail health, leading to the formation of ridges.

Medications: Certain medications and treatments, including chemotherapy, can affect the growth and appearance of nails, potentially causing vertical lines.

When to Be Concerned

While vertical lines are often harmless and related to factors like aging or minor trauma, there are instances when they may signal a more significant health issue. Here are some signs that you should consult a healthcare professional:

Sudden or Severe Changes: If you notice sudden or pronounced changes in the appearance of your nails, such as the rapid development of deep and wide ridges, it's essential to seek medical advice.

Accompanying Symptoms: If you experience other symptoms like changes in the color of your nails, pain, swelling, or bleeding, consult a healthcare provider promptly.

Persistent Lines: Vertical lines that persist and do not improve over time may be a sign of an underlying medical condition or nutritional deficiency.

Family History: If you have a family history of nail abnormalities or specific medical conditions, it's wise to monitor your nail health and discuss any concerns with a healthcare professional.

Tips:

Regularly trimming and polishing your nails can keep them healthy. I recommend PELCAS electric nail drill. This e-file suitable for grinding, carving, cutting, polishing, removing gel polish and cuticles.

Conclusion

In most cases, vertical lines on your nails are not a cause for alarm and can be attributed to common factors like aging or minor trauma. However, it's crucial to pay attention to your nail health and be vigilant for any changes that may indicate a more significant underlying issue. If you have concerns about the appearance of your nails or notice any other concerning symptoms, consult a healthcare professional for a thorough evaluation. Remember that maintaining a balanced diet, staying hydrated, and practicing good nail care can go a long way in promoting healthy nails and overall well-being.

#beauty #beauty secrets #nails #nailsalon #pretty nails #manicure #nail salon #nail health #nail polish #electric nail drill

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bemagbeauty · 8 months

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biancardi · 2 years

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Pamper Your Hands & Feet with MelodySusie

I am pleased to have a few more items from MelodySusie, an online store that specializes in nail tools, nail gels and nail art. This time, I am featuring a salon treatment for manicures and pedicures with their PS1-Manicure & Pedicure Nail Drill Kit and Deluxe Hand Cream Set. My nails have ridges and lately, have been spitting ~ I have a vitamin deficiency and really do need to take more…

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#affiliate link #beautycommunity #hand and foot spa treatment #hand cream #manicure #melodysusie #pedicure #prsample #PS1-Manicure & Pedicure Nail Drill Kit #review

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streetkittyclaws · 2 years

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💉💗pierced nails💗💉

used an efile to drill two holes on a nail for piercing + jump rings as jewelry

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hihomeghere · 7 months

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Unspoken thing | Five Hargreeves / Reader

Word count : 1.7k Summary : Part 2 of One Bed, after that fateful night in the hotel room. Five has been avoiding you and now you're called into the Handler's office to take responsibility for the delay in exterminating the target. After a minor injury caused by the Handler, Five patches you up. You can no longer take the tension of the unspoken thing between the two of you. ( I do not own The Umbrella Academy or any of it's characters) Warnings / Tags : Allusions to smut, cursing, mentions of blood and surgery equipment, tension, use of y/n, Aged up!Five. Not requested. Part one here

“Impressive work, Y/n.” The handler said with a sickly sweet tone. She flipped through your completed files. You watched as she licked her finger before turning a page. You swallowed, fighting the urge to cower before her. “I see here that you suffered from a headache during your mission, is that correct?” She asked, cocking her head in false concern. It wasn’t just a headache.

“Yes.” You answered, not daring to say anything more. Anything you said could and most likely would be held against you. She read the paper, her eyes flying from left to right.

“Hmm, yes it seems that this delayed your extermination of the target?” She phrased the statement as more of a question. Treating you as a child instead of an employee. She clicked her tongue leaning forward, clasping her hands. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady, with no discernible tone. She raised her eyebrows, her fake smile falling.

What delayed the job was unforeseen circumstances, Five was looking for you instead of the target. You had split up, and he couldn’t find his way back to you. Which had then led to a very interesting night in a hotel room.

You should have known that you would get called in for this instead of Five. Even though it had been both of your responsibilities to eliminate the target. But Five was one of the handlers favorites.

“Hm.” She hummed, clicking her tongue, “You know Y/n if you let any of our trained scientists here poke around in that little brain of yours. We could figure out why you’re getting those headaches.” She pointed to your head with a well manicured red nail. You froze, all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. You were transported back to that lab. The sounds of drilling, cold sterile instruments, the excruciating pain. Your screams echoing off the walls. The scientists with bloody gloves and masks.

“No. No one is going to ‘poke’ around anywhere.” You said quickly, shaking your head, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. The handler smiled, pleased by your reaction. You sighed looking down at your lap. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8.

“Well, the offer remains if you change your mind.” She said standing up, you stood up as well. Glad this interrogation was over. “Although if you wish to stay Number Five’s partner, you’ll need to start pushing through your headaches to complete the mission.” She said false encouragement in her voice. Her hand gripped your shoulder as she led you out of her office, her sharp nails digging into your skin. You winced, pulling away from her. She cocked her head as though she was surprised by your reaction.

“You won’t have to worry about finding him a new partner.” You said through gritted teeth, “We’ll manage just fine.” You turned on your heel, striding towards the stairs. Once you were sure you were out of her view you let out a shaky breath. In for 4, hold for 7- Tears started to prick your eyes. You took in a shuddery breath, your hand coming to your heart. You rushed down the stairs, a stabilizing hand on the railing. Your other hand moved from your heart to cover your shoulder. You started breathing rapidly, your heart pounding in your ears. You turned down an empty hallway, leaning up against the wall. A cool hand wrapped around your wrist, Five blinked you both into his office. You would never get used to that, like someone was injecting ice into your veins.

He led you to one of his office chairs, the same one you had sat in when you first met him. He squatted in front of you, inspecting you for any injuries. His cold fingertips landed on your shoulder, he stopped, his eyes meeting yours.

“Who did this to you?” He asked his jaw clenching, you lowered your gaze. He tilted your chin up with his hand, forcing you to look at him. His gaze was deadly, calculated, ready to strike whoever did this to you.

“The handler.” You whispered, biting your lip. Five clicked his tongue, a scowl on his face.

“Of course, I assume this after the mission debrief?” He stood up walking around to the other side of his desk, rifling through his drawers.

“Yes, Five it’s fine-” You said, picking at the skin on your hands.

“Fine? That bitch dug her claws into you.” He scoffed, shaking his head behind his desk. He stalked around his desk to kneel in front of you again. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, his forearms bare except for the umbrella tattoo. Part of you wanted to trace the veins on his arms, to touch him in any way. You thought that being with him physically would have scratched the itch, instead it only fed the fire inside you. You missed his touch, most of all you missed him. You could count on your hands the number of words he had said to you since that night. He opened up his first aid kit, pulling out a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He carefully poured a small bit onto a cotton ball gently dabbing it against the bleeding crescent marks in your shoulder. You flinched but prided yourself on keeping quiet as he pressed the cotton ball onto the wound. You felt the prick of new tears in your eyes, you raised your gaze to the ceiling. Your vision clouding with unshed tears, you sniffled as quietly as you could. Although every sound seemed amplified in the tiny office.

You watched Five work, this wasn’t some gaping wound he had to patch up by himself. It was a scratch, but you could tell he had a system, doing this many times before. His jaw was set with an unreadable expression. He moved like a machine, programmed only to do this task. He opened up a bandaid, covering the wound on your shoulder.

“Done.” He said, rising to his feet.

“Thank you.” You said slowly getting to your feet. He walked back to his desk, opening the drawer and setting the first aid kit back in its normal spot. Now to leave, he had only done his duty as your partner. Nothing more. He had made it clear he didn’t love you, and made it clear that you were only partners. You were ready to go home, curl up in your bed with a good book. You walked to the door, your hand settling on the door knob.

“Leaving so soon?” He questioned, you looked back at him. He was pulling out a bottle of scotch, two glasses balanced in his hands.

“What?” You asked, your brows pinching together.

“Can I not ask my partner to share a nightcap?” He asked, recoiling, a teasing smile tugging on his lips. Your heart thumped in your ears, you longed to be close to him again. Longed to be back in his corner where you belonged.

But he wasn’t yours.

“No.” You bit your cheek, avoiding his gaze as you looked away from him. Unspoken things always seemed so romantic, full of tension, the will-they-won't-they of it all. It didn’t feel romantic right now, full of tension yes. This tension that made you want to tear your skin off, instead of your clothes.

“No?” He raised his brows, setting down the glasses on this desk before loosening his tie.

“Is that what I am to you? Just your partner?” The words slipped out before you could think to bite your tongue. You clench your fists, grounding yourself with the dull pain in your palms. He scoffed, pouring the golden liquid into his glass.

“You should know what you mean to me.” He turned his eyebrows pinched together, “I’m not some womanizer.” He knocked back the glass, hissing as the alcohol ran down his throat. Your face burned, shame creeping up your neck.

“Well I don’t know, so what am I to you?” You asked. His chest rose and fell rapidly, he hung his head bracing himself on his desk.

“Fine.” He said standing to his full height, “You want to know what you are to me?” his lip twitched as he waited for your response. You nodded, crossing your arms. “You’re my everything.” It was like someone had dumped a bucket of water over you. He walked around the desk, you were frozen like a deer in the headlights. He stalked towards you, “I can’t think when you’re around- you-” he huffed clenching and unclenching his fists. “You drive me crazy.” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

“I-” You began when the door opened, pushing you forward into Five’s arms.

“Oh! So sorry Y/n!” Herb squeaked, pulling the case file close to his chest. You looked up, directly into Five’s face. His jaw was clenched, his stern gaze turned on Herb now.

“No worries.” You breathed, holding onto Five’s arms for balance as you got back on your feet. Once you were able to support yourself again, Five reached out and snatched the file from Herb’s hands. He began to thumb through it, “You’ll be leaving immediately.” Herb clasped his hands together, “Handler’s orders.” You internally groaned, what a fucking cock block.

“Thank you Herb.” You said walking up beside Five, “We’ll take it from here.” You said with a reassuring smile. He nodded before closing the door behind him. Once Herb had walked down the hallway you put your hand on Five’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes full of emotion. “Let’s get the job done, and once we are back we can pick up where we left off.” You smiled softly, moving to stand in front of him. You reached up and straightened his tie, he relaxed under your touch.

“Alright, tesoro.” He smiled, the corner of his lip pulling up. You pulled him forward by his tie, softly kissing his cheek. You’d have to thank the Handler for her hand in all of this, maybe an edible arrangement? You chuckled to yourself as you walked toward the briefcase department, Five’s hand resting on your lower back.

#the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #alison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #number five #the handler #hihomeghere

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ragingbookdragon · 5 months

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I Do My Hair Toss, Paint My Nails

Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I fucking wrote TF fanfiction omg. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Ironhide:

It’s only the fourth glance she takes out the window that has her nail tech snorting. “Are you worried someone is going to steal your boyfriend’s truck?”

She startles at his words, barely missing the drill bit going into her skin around her nail as she replies, “Huh?”

“You keep looking at the truck,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend’s, isn’t it?”

Her cheeks begin to warm as she swipes a fifth glance at the black GMC. “What makes you say it’s my boyfriend’s? It could be mine.”

“Please. You work in private security. And I know you drive a pink Porsche.” He takes his own look at the truck. “It’s a nice one. It is your boyfriend’s, right?”

“Something like that,” she replies as he dips the brush into the acrylic and begins to lay it over her nails.

He snorts again. “Okay, Miss Mysterious, keep it secret.”

She gives a smile as he continues to work on her nails and she admires them when they’re done, a sleek black stiletto. “Thank you, Ray.”

Giving a mock bow, he replies, “I do my best. Now off with you.”

Waving, she steps outside and nears the driver’s side of the truck, only to be caught off by a sports car slowing to a stop beside her.

“Hey baby,” the man greets, practically hanging outside of the window. “Where you headed?”

She blinks, offering a deadened stare and grips the door handle. “Nowhere you are. Have a nice day.”

“Now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk and starts to get out, but he stops when the truck rumbles with a violent noise. “What the fuck?”

“Easy, Ironhide,” she murmurs, and opens the driver’s door. “Have a lovely day.” Shutting and locking the door, she’s thankful that Ironhide’s windows are tinted and watches as the car pulls away in a hurry.

“You okay?” Ironhide asks. “I can always blast their tailpipe in.”

She laughs. “Thank you, but I think they got the message.”

“Hmm, I disagree, but I’ll take your word for it,” his voice hums through his speakers as he pulls off onto the street. “What did you do in there? You were gone for an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I got my nails painted!” she chirps and flashes her hands down. “See, I painted them black like your paint.”

This time, Ironhide rumbles but it’s with a subtle pride as he compliments, “As beautiful as my weapons, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and leans forward, pressing her lips to the center of the steering wheel. “How about we take a drive out of the city?”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he replies and turns off to the main highway pointing out of the city.

***

Rachet:

“I do not understand the process of painting your nails,” Rachet comments as he watches her gently apply a mustard yellow to her nails.

“Which part don’t you understand, big guy?” she replies, not looking up, focusing intently.

“Perhaps it is more so I don’t understand why.”

“Why?”

He nods and gets closer, staring at her hands. “Why are you painting them?”

She looks up at him. “Why me specifically or why do humans paint nails?”

Rachet takes a moment to ponder her question. “Both.”

Sticking her hand under the small gel light, she answers, “Most people paint their nails as a form of self-expression. Others do so as it’s fashionable. Some just do manicures and pedicures to stay groomed. Think of it like you and the others maintaining your own bodies and staying in good condition.” She starts on the other hand when the first is cured. “Some cultures have historic context with painting nails or the length of nails and it’s symbolic to their people.”

“And what of you?” he asks.

“I guess mine is more so expression and maintenance. I work a lot so I can’t always have my nails maintained the way I want, y’know painted and with length. But I always try to keep them clean and nice looking.” She smiles as she paints a red line through them. “Sometimes I’m lucky enough that I get to paint them pretty.”

At that, Rachet tips his head a bit to see. “I’m no human but I do not think red and yellow are technically considered ‘pretty.’”

She gives him a fond look and pokes his nose with her cured pointer. “Really? Because I painted them to look like a similar Autobot I know. Or did you forget you’re red and yellow?”

He coughs slightly and looks away. “Well, now that you mention such a thing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re flustered, Rachet.”

“Nonsense,” he retorts as he stands up straight, and she has to crane her neck to see him. “Autobots don’t get flustered.”

“I think you’re leaking oil, big guy,” she teases, and he turns hurriedly, patting himself down.

“What! Where!”

“I’m joking,” she says with a grin. “Still set on not being embarrassed?”

***

Bumblebee:

She sits at the station next to Bumblebee as he fumbles with the metal Rubik’s cube she had made for him. “What color should I paint my nails, Bee?” she asks, opening the case, and she really shouldn’t be painting her nails at work, but considering most of the higher ups are in meetings and the facility is a ghost town, she doesn’t have much to do.

Bumblebee looks down, optics zooming in on each color she lifts up for him to see.

“I’ve got blue…red…black…ooo, what about green?” she offers a deep evergreen up and he scowls and shakes his head. “No?”

He sticks a finger into the case and carefully digs around until he pulls out a tiny tube and hands it to her.

“This one?” she asks and looks at the bottle. “Sunrise Yellow,” she says and looks at him. “It matches you.”

This time he gives her a smile of pride and hands her the black bottle as well, gesturing to her middle and ring fingers.

“You want these ones painted black and the others yellow?”

“Yeah baby!” the line from a comedy movie comes over his voice and she snorts.

“Okay, Bee,” she answers and opens the bottles. “Nails that look like you coming up.” she watches as he grins to himself and dances slightly. “You keep it up, Bee, and everyone is going to know you like me.” She pauses and looks at her hands with a deadpan stare. “Actually, they’re going to think I like you.”

He bends down and gets face to face with her. “You do like me.” The words are easy enough to decipher in his rumbles and she looks away.

“Get outta heeya,” she mocks with warm cheeks, and he laughs at her. “Hey, you better stop laughing at me, or do you not remember how you practically tripped over yourself when I wore a dress the other day and you weren’t paying attention. Ran right into the high-beam and maintenance is still working on fixing it.”

At that, his battle visors come down and he hides his face as embarrassed rumbles escape him; she takes the opportunity to slide up onto his leg and sit with a smile as she paints her nails.

***

Optimus:

She greets the soldiers around her with a smile as she enters the facility and wanders back to her desk to set her things down. It’s only a few moments before Lennox finds his way to her desk and simply stands in front of it until she looks up. “Good morning, Will.”

“You’re late,” he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “We had training this morning. And you missed it.”

“And I think you forget I was transferred to private security.” She smiles amusedly. “I don’t work for the military anymore.”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you get out and you turn into a completely different person.”

“I am not. Excuse me for enjoying not waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to go running.” She turns on her computer and sorts some paperwork on her desk. “I had an appointment if it appeases your annoyance, your royal eminence.”

“Oh, it’s not me that needs to be appeased. It’s a certain Autobot that was worried about your lateness,” he teases as she feels her cheeks heat up.

She gives him a surprised but pleasant look. “Optimus was worried about me?”

She knows she’s said too much when Lennox’s face splits into a smirk and he gloats, “I fuckin’ knew it was Optimus. Epps thought it was Sideswipe.” His grins grows as she throws her pen at him and he saunters off with, “Guys owe me fifty.”

A few minutes pass as the embarrassment begins to fade when a noise startles her and she lets out a groan and gripes, “William, go awa—Optimus!” she hides her files on her desk as if it will take away the fluster she feels. “I—I didn’t know you were there.”

The Autobot leader bends down to get level with her. “You weren’t at training this morning,” he notes, and she can’t help how her neck disappears into her shoulders.

“I was busy…I had an appointment.”

“Oh?” He blinks, blue optics watching her carefully. “Was it a medical appointment? Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” she replies. “I went to go get my nails done.”

He blinks again, this time almost confused as he asks, “Your…nails?”

She shows her hands, and he lowers his, gently taking both of hers in one; they only rest on one finger as he examines them. “In human culture, men and women paint their finger and toenails different colors. It’s called manicure and pedicure. I have acrylic nails. Made from acrylic glass and hardened with a liquid monomer. It creates a hardened surface that can be drilled and painted. Like mine.”

Optimus looks them over before he murmurs almost uncharacteristically quiet, “They are painted like my paint.”

Her cheeks warm and she looks away. “I…know we can’t exactly be open…people wouldn’t understand but…I just thought it would be a romantic gesture I guess.”

“I am honored,” he says with a smile. “They are painted beautifully…like you.”

“Optimus,” she replies with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

#transformers bayverse #bayverse transformers #ironhide #rachet #bumblebee #optimus prime #optimus #ironhide x reader #rachet x reader #bumblebee x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #transformers

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

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teaching ghost how to make paper cranes but he keeps messing up with his huge ass hands <3333 (gn reader please! love your work❣️❣️)

*taps microphone* one “Ghost struggling” with a side of “Japanese paper folding art” coming right up. (A/N at the end)

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“This is even more annoying than Soap.”

“It’s not Soap’s fault you have sausages for fingers.” You murmur as you finish your tenth paper crane and set it on the conference table.

He examines the back of his hand as if he had just received a manicure. He then flips it over, palm facing up, and curls his fingers into a fist before releasing them.

“My fingers are not the problem,” he argues, “it’s these sheets; they are way too small.”

“Did you say ‘shits’ or ‘sheets’?” You quip, and he huffs at your comment. Yet, he picks up another piece of paper from the stack to try again.

You observe him as he leans over the table. He is pretty crafty when it comes to surviving in difficult situations; he can light a fire by creating a bow drill, build a shelter out of branches, and navigate the woods with a needle as a compass. But when it comes to these types of crafts, he struggles.

He starts folding again, a little gentler than before. Every time he completes a step, he pauses to assess his progress. He occasionally lets out a self-motivational hum and nods to himself.

But then something happens, and he loses it—a misaligned fold caused by his large hands or a paper rip as a result of his inexperience with handling such delicate materials. Sometimes he just feels discouraged, anticipating another failed try, and gives everything up.

Looking at his current attempt, you know the paper crane will fall apart. He completes his final folds and, as you anticipated, it comes loose. He groans and crumbles the paper.

“You can do it,” you assert. “I’ve seen you train unruly recruits with much more patience.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N,” he shouts, throwing his head back, “recruits are easier to shape into soldiers than moulding a fucking Post-it note into a duck.”

“It’s a crane,” you correct him; “ducks have another technique.”

“What’s the difference?” he complains. “Why do they have different folds if they are both birds?”

“For the same reason, an AK47 and an MP5 need different types of ammo, I guess.”

Despite his disappointment, he picks up another piece of paper and folds it again.

“Patience, Lt.,” you encourage him, “treat it as a recruit.”

He pauses for a minute, contemplating your advice, before he begins. He does not treat the paper as a target this time. He carefully pinches it with his fingers and folds it with his nails. In his eyes, the paper has taken on the appearance of something far too fragile. Something that needs to be helped and taken care of. It’s not against him, but with him—they’re allies working towards a common goal.

He completes it and places it in the palm of his hand, stretching his creation towards you. It’s not perfect, but nothing is.

“Excellent work, Lieutenant!” You cheer, and he proudly places his paper crane next to yours.

“It’s relaxing and meditative,” he admits; “all this folding and aligning makes you forget about things.”

“Things?” You ask as he pulls another sheet from the stack.

“You know,” he replies, staring at the paper in his hands, “bad things.”

You can see his emotions shifting through his eyes—they’re half-lidded as if they want to forget the atrocities they witnessed. His hands are fiddling with that paper; they are shameful hands in his mind—hands that participated in the worst horrors imaginable. They’re not worthy of making paper cranes.

“Paper cranes symbolise hope,” you comfort him, “and there’s a Japanese legend that says whoever makes a thousand of them will be granted a wish.”

His eyes light up, and he opens his lips to say something, but Soap enters the room. “What are you doing here?” He yells and sits on the table, right next to your paper cranes.

Ghost rolls his eyes at the sight of Soap but continues with his little project. “I’m making a thousand paper cranes to fulfil my wish.” He replies.

“What are you going to wish for, Lieutenant?” He asks, and Ghost replies with a stern “for you to get off my fucking back.”

You make quiet shushing noises to calm him down, and he inhales deeply.

“What is it that you want, Sergeant?” He finally asks, and Soap begins to report every problem around the base that would require Ghost’s attention.

“And the fridge broke last night, and all the meat has gone bad,” he concludes, “so it looks like we might have to eat a plant-based diet until we fix it.”

“That’s alright,” Ghost shrugs, “as long as we get our nutrients, we’ll be fine.”

Soap looks at you, dumbfounded. “Wow, Lt.!” he shouts, turning to Ghost, “these paper cranes have turned you into a bloody monk, haven’t they?”

“Paper crane, paper crane,” Ghost begins to chant as he folds, “go away, or you’ll end up with a fucking cane.”

“Ghost!” you cry. “Where is the patience and meditative state we discussed earlier?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologises and turns to Soap. “Namaste, sergeant,” he says and waves his hand in dismissal, “now fuck off.”

And who are you to tell him what to say or how to behave? You, too, are a project yourself, just like these cranes lined up in front of you. You look at the trash bin with all the papers he crumbled before completing his first successful paper fold art. Today he learned something new and joyful. Something that makes him feel content and proud rather than something that wakes him up in the middle of the night or, worse, prevents him from sleeping. Making a thousand paper cranes is so much better than watching him with that thousand-yard stare he gets after every mission.

Soap grabs one of your paper cranes, places it in his pocket, and leaves you two be.

Ghost completes his second successful paper crane and grabs another sheet. “Nine hundred and ninety-eight more to go,” he states, “you know, for that wish.”

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A/N: I had no idea how to make a paper crane, so I wanted to teach myself first in order to write this. And yes, I did it on a Post-it note (but not a sticky one). Also, this piece is 1000 words.

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nu11lar · 10 months

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── ♡ sugar daddy! toji who'll spoil his babygirl anytime! buying her many baby pink lingerie and having a lil fashion show back at home, only for them to be decorated on the floor while he rearranges her insides on the squeaky couch.

── ♡ sugar daddy! toji who'll send her money almost everyday for her to have a shopping spree with her friends! then coming back to show him the cute accessories and the pretty set of french tip nails that were manicured at the nail salon. those pretty nails leaving scratch marks on his muscular back while he drills deep into her pretty pink pussy.

── ♡ sugar daddy! toji that loves receiving nudes from his princess, seeing her wear his favorite set and then being sent an exclusive video of her humping the pillow and fingering herself while she moans out his name, telling him how much she misses her daddy.

── ♡ sugar daddy! toji that will be mean sometimes during sex, making her pink pussy swell up an angry red color when he doesn't stop ramming into her tight hole. whispering naughty things into her ear when he gives her a harsh slap in her plump ass, making her sensitive skin turn red and leave a big handprint while she tries to endure the stinging sensation.

── ♡ sugar daddy! toji loves the way his babygirl looks like when she's giving him head, her throat struggling to handle this many inches in her little throat as he gives her a gentle tug on her scalp. telling her to take it slow at first and take deep breaths, once they finish the warm up he receives the most toe curling, back arching head he has ever had! he is sure he'll giver her a nice reward for the head!

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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productreview13 · 2 years

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Light, Electric Manicure Set with Adjustable Speed, E-File for Manicure and Pedicure, with Storage Case

#electric manicure drill #electric file manicure for nails #manicure #how to use electric nail manicure tools kit #electric nail file #electric manicure set #electric file manicure #electric manicure #electric nail drill #14-piece professional manicure & pedicure nail drill klt #electric nail drills #manicure tester #e file manicure tutorial #manicure pen #care tool with 3 speeds #electric nail file drill #electric nail file review

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bonefall · 1 year

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Warrior Bites: Clan Tools

[Image ID: Reedwhisker, a black RiverClan warrior cat, sits behind two terracotta pots, some strips of willowbark, a traditional wooden pot called a firkin, and a rock. He has a stick in his mouth.]

Warriors of the Clans are shown in-canon to be able to weave, dig tunnels, decorate with shells, and do whatever it is that BloodClan’s got going on with those collars and manicures. Have you considered what other tools a semi-realistic warrior could handle?

A guide to the various tools and methods that the Clans can use to prepare complex dishes, including the equipment needed for smoking, baking, pickling, and so on. Part of the Warrior Bites series for Bonefall’s Clan Culture.

(The art in this guide was once again provided by my partner who hasn’t read a single page of warrior cats in their life but so help me god I’ll drag them down with me)

Tools + Equipment

Fire Starting

Containers: Twine + Baskets + Buckets

Cookware: Smokers, Ovens, “Grillstones“

1. Fire Starting

Flint can be used to start a fire, especially for Clans that lack lumber. Because flint is most easily found around the Mothermouth, it’s associated with StarClan’s glow and considered somewhat divine.

But for those situations without a flint starter, the Clans generally teach their apprentices the paw-drill method using a spindle. But these days, SkyClan uses stolen Glass to start fires quicker and easier than any other Clan…

Except on cloudy days, where some unfortunate apprentice still gets saddled with spindle duty.

[Image ID: Reedclaw, a brown tabby Warrior Cat from SkyClan, sits on his haunches and spins a long stick called a ‘spindle’ with his front paws. Smoke is rising from the board the spindle is spinning against.]

2. Containers: Twine + Baskets + Buckets

RiverClan has the easiest access to twine; Willowbark can be peeled right off the tree and used without any processing for simple string to tie things with. WindClan uses woven grass as twine. ShadowClan, SkyClan, and ThunderClan are able to make cordage from Blackberry brambles.

Once the cat has twine, it can be woven into a simple basket to gather things, like berries, clams, or insects. In order to carry liquids, forested Clans can create firkins-- a small wooden bucket that requires some carpentry ability, namely creating wooden nails.

But these tremble before the value of pottery, which is needed to store liquids, ferment and pickle food, and create stew.

Pottery is made from clay, which has to be baked in order to go from wet mud to terracotta. RiverClan is responsible for making the majority of new pottery because of the river, and ShadowClan’s marsh gives them lots of access to low-quality clay.

WindClan was once unmatched in the quality of their pottery thanks to tunneling leading them to the finest clay deposits known to the Clans. Though SkyClan is now rivaling the finest ancient WindClan pottery, due to their willingness to steal buckets from twolegs.

(Leafstar says, “if you cant make a firkin, store-bought is fine”)

[Image ID: Leafstar, the brown tabby-and-cream Warrior cat leader of SkyClan, sits behind a counter in front of an audience presenting a man-made firkin, parodying shopping channels. A speech bubble says, “Meow meow meow meow meow, storebought is meow.”]

3. Cookware: Smokers, Ovens, “Grillstones“

A smoker is very easy to construct, all that’s needed is some straight branches, twine, and fire.

First, a round pit is dug into the ground and filled with soaked woodchips. It is important they’re damp, because wet wood gives off more smoke than dry. Then, three beams are set and tied at the top, like a triangle. From there, a shelf is made inside of the beams. Multiple shelves can be made if a lot of food is being smoked at once.

ThunderClan wraps the smoker in a leather pelt, to keep the smoke in. Their prowess with smoking and seasoning a wide range of meats gives them the title of BBQ champions.

[Image ID: A primitive smoker setup, made of three sticks leaned against each other in a triangular shape and tied at the top. Two shelves are tied into the structure, the top row with minnows and the bottom with hanging strips of meat.]

An oven is a large construction. Capable of cooking several meals at once, each clan would have just one to use communally. Because the communal oven is such a big project, each Clan would have one that looks unique to their environment.

ThunderClan’s, for example, is flat and made of stone, simple in design but very sturdy and capable of cooking a lot of meat at once.

[Image ID: A stone oven made of flat, piled rocks. A fire is lit at the bottom and meat is browning on the top shelf. A stick leans against the side.]

For the quickest and easiest way to make a hot meal, meat is roasted on a spit or loose stick over an open fire. The best sear comes from a large, flat slab of rock propped up over a flame, known to the clans as a grillstone.

[Image ID: Firestar, ginger tabby warrior cat leader of ThunderClan, watches bacon sizzle on a large, flat rock placed over a fire. His daughter, Squirrelkit, sits beside him. A thought bubble above her head contains a waffle, and a question mark.]

(Clan blood be damned that kittypet can work a grill)

#cooking #warrior cats #Clan Culture #Warrior Bites #smoker #cookware #oven #grillstone #twine #why do they call it an oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food #Firestar #Squirrelflight #Reedclaw #bushcraft #leafstar #Warriors

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h34rtbeat · 5 months

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Nanami + praising kink?? 🤐

I just want to lick suck and like be filled up and bred by nanami I want his cum inside my butthole idc

warnings: rough sex, cheating, praise, unprotected sex, p in v sex, nanami is married, reader works at a local restaurant, reader knows nanamis wife and is aware of their marriage, age gap, squirting, lowkey exhibition (he’s fucking u in a break room)

A hand locked on your waist, being and unforgiving as you held yourself up by the mere willpower of your mind. It was sinful, morally wrong to be doing what you were.

How could something so sinful feel so right?

“You’re such a sweet girl.” Nanami breathes, hit breath tickling the nape of your neck. “So perfect, and the prettiest pussy just f’me..”

“S-sir, slow down.. uh.. ahah..” you couldn’t think correct, his sweet voice, so deep and enthralling, despite these actions.

You could feel the cold air around his left hand, his gold ring digging into your waist.

You could only imagine what his wife would say— how she’d never look at you the same way, how she’d versed you. But this was her fault, wasn’t it?

She’s the one who couldn’t keep her husband entertained. She couldn’t keep him happy. It wasn’t your fault he liked you more! And it wasn’t your fault he liked fucking you, it wasn’t you fault he liked seeing your face dissolve into a pleasure filled void.

“You’re so.. so much better than my wife.” He says, pulling out only for a moment. He turns you over, in the cramped break room.

“Hold onto me..” you did so without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. His strong arms lifting your legs up, sliding his cock back in.

You could feel your eyes rolling, voice meek as you whined and squirmed against his large dick. It was like he was ripping you apart, tearing your organs out.

Yet he did it so gently— so carefully, like he was afraid to hurt you.

His cock hitting all the right spots in this position, squelching noises louder than the cash register, your moans slipping out.

He leaned in a bit, causing a squeak to leave your mouth.

“Shh, pretty.. kiss me, come.” He mumbled, locking your lips with his. Your arms tightened around his, as your eyes were slightly open when he pulled away a tiny bit.

Only to mix your tongues, to make it harder for you to breathe. His hands spreading you perfectly, drilling his cock into your cunt like he was in heat.

He watched as your eyes fluttered open, like a slut, but he’d never say that, too happy with the way you clenched every time he praised you.

“You like this? When I show you what real sex is?”

He almost scoffed, but that would be mean. And he liked making you feel good, because you made him feel good.

“K-lento, sir, I think.. m..” you panted, unable to form your sentence properly.

“You think you’re what? Tell me, be smart.” Kento affirmed, his deep voice making your juices run all over him again.

“M… M’gonna cum, Kento.. ah..” your nails, newly manicured, paid by his tip money. “S-sir.. come.. inside..” he let out a loud grunt at that, his hips even more now.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me, better than my fucking wife.. such a good, young girl..”

One more thrust, and you spilled all over his fancy suit— while your cunt was filled up with him. Your head was spinning, only thoughts of Nanami.

“Thank you, thank.. you sir..” you babbled out, chest rising and falling.

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trendingsims · 1 day

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Trendingsims-Nail Day pose and animations pack!

Hey all! I was tired of the games animations with the sims getting a manicure and one sim was standing up. I wanted a more realistic vibe so I tweaked the animations a bit to be sitting down. I know it is NOT perfect and a first public animation of mine so please bare with me as I learn. You guys are more than welcome to do what cha want with it and make it better or tweak it for your aesthetics. Hope you find some sort of enjoyment from it, if not I am sorry if it sucks.

DOWNLOAD pose pack

DOWNLOAD nail drill accessory

3 poses and 1 animation.

Need teleport any sim. Need pose player.

For chair poses, place statue in the middle of chair.

ACCESSORIES! I used this Bottle and Glass

Check out my pages below to see what's coming up!

Instagram: @briellesims

Tumblr : @trendingsims or @briellerollins

If any problems please let me know.

#sims 4 cc #ts4cc #sims 4 poses #sims 4 animations #sims 4 cc free #cc finds #free cc #sims poses #s4standing poses #s4sittingposes #poses #sims 4 download #trendingsims #simmerika #NOELLYSIMS decor #rubysims #bradfordsims

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blue-aconite · 2 months

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fields of dandelions || prologue

Summary: Jake's life falls apart in less than an hour and he's left trying his best to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC

Authors Note: And we're back with a new series! This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally found the motivation to finish off the prologue. I just think the world needs more single dad!Jake, don't y'all agree?

Thank you to my betas @a-reader-and-a-writer & @green-socks and for letting me ramble on about this!

Jake spent a good twenty minutes staring at his own house through the windscreen. He remembered when he and Sarah first bought it. A lot had happened since. And now it looked like it was all coming to an end.

Sarah was on the phone as he entered the kitchen, talking quietly as she flipped through a magazine. He shoved his hand into the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for her to notice him. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat.

“Sarah.”

She looked up, eyes widening as she saw him. “Jake. I didn’t realise you were going to be home yet.” She ended the call without saying goodbye and Jake noticed how she chose to put the phone with the screen down.

He gave her a tight smile before sitting down across from her. “Half day. They’re running drills with the kids so Mav sent us home.”

“That’s nice. Did you pick up the boys?”

Jake shook his head. “Javy picked them up. They’re trying out his new pool.” The boys had been on their case since they found out their uncle Coyote was installing a pool in his backyard.

She hummed but offered no other answer. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, neither of them speaking. Sarah shifted in her seat, eyes darting back and forth between him and her phone.

Jake felt his stomach turn but decided to jump the gun. “I think we need to talk.”

He had expected some sort of fight, some sort of protest, so when Sarah only sighed and twisted her face in what resembled a smile, it was like a punch to the gut.

“How did you find out?” she asked, completely unbothered as she inspected her nails. She didn’t bother denying it, even though Jake hadn’t asked about it directly. But it was enough to confirm what Jake already knew but hoped he was wrong about.

Jake dragged a hand through his hair, baffled at her lack of reaction. “How did I find out? Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Sarah shook her head, manicured nails tapping the table. Jake dragged a hand down his face.

“I want you to say that you didn’t fuck him. That you didn’t invite him into our house while our boys were home. I mean, what the fuck?!”

If his words affected her, Sarah didn’t show it. She twisted her wedding band round and round, her silence telling him everything Jake needed to know.

“If you’ve been unhappy -”

“It’s not about that. It’s complicated, Jake.” Sarah sighed.

Jake scoffed, clearing his throat. “Uncomplicate it for me then. Tell me why I had to find out from our son that you’ve been inviting another man into my house. How many times, huh?”

“How many times what?” she countered, staring at him. Jake could barely recognise his own wife. She didn’t seem to care that their five-year-old had seen her with another man.

“You know what I’m asking, don’t play dumb. How many times did you bring him here?” Jake pushed away from the table, unable to sit still anymore. Sarah’s disinterest only served to make him more agitated.

As if his question finally affected her, Sarah looked up at him but her face showed nothing. “Just one time. And the kids were supposed to be asleep.”

“How long?” It hurt to ask but he needed to know. How long had she been cheating on him? He could piece it together, track back to when she started to become distant but he wanted her to admit it. As if it would feel better.

Sarah pressed her lips together, hands clasped on top of the table. “Couple of months. I don’t know.”

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Of all the possible scenarios he had of the future when he asked Sarah to marry him after high school, this one had never crossed his mind. How had they ended up here?

“Why? Tell me why.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Shaking his head, Jake gripped the back of the chair he vacated earlier. “Stop saying that. Tell me the truth. If the last 18 years have meant anything to you, you’ll be honest with me,” he paused, drawing a shaky breath. “You owe me that much.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jake! It’s done, okay? I can’t pinpoint the exact fucking moment, alright? One moment everything was alright and then it wasn’t. And he was there for me. Stop questioning me, this isn’t an interrogation.” Sarah spat, anger seeping into her voice.

“No. You don’t get to be angry. You’re the one that fucked up. You do not get to tell me I don’t get to ask questions.” Jake spat back, his own anger surfacing. She had no right to play the victim.

Sarah rolled her eyes, a humourless laugh leaving her. “Alright, fine. Do you want the truth? I’m so fucking tired of this life. I’m tired of staying home all the fucking time whenever you get deployed, putting my own career on hold for you. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of you. For once, I want to do something for me, have something for myself.”

“And to achieve that you decided that cheating on me was the best course of action? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?” Jake demands all the anger and hurt clashing together.

Sarah shakes her head. “Like talking would do any good.”

He thought it would hurt more, to hear that his own wife was tired of him but all he could feel was a numbness spreading through his body.

The woman sitting in front of him wasn’t his wife, wasn’t the mother of his children. She sounded cold, detached, almost like Jake felt.

Jake scoffed. “Well, you could have said something, instead of fucking someone else. We could have tried couples therapy -”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. And now it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Sarah interrupted.

He stared at her, trying hard to remember the girl he once had fallen in love with. But she was nowhere to be found. Instead he saw someone he didn’t even recognised anymore. Sarah stared back, neither of them breaking eye contact. He knew it was the end. She knew it too.

“Are you leaving?”

Sarah lowered her gaze back to her hands. “Yes.”

“What about the boys?”

Sarah didn’t say anything. She stayed quiet, once again twisting her wedding band round and round. Jake sat down again, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “Sarah. What about the boys?”

“What about them?” She kept her eyes on her hands, refusing to meet his eye.

Jake threw his hands up in frustration. “What do we tell them?”

Sarah pulls the wedding band off along with the engagement ring he’d given her all those years ago. He could do nothing but watch as she ended twelve years of marriage right in front of his eyes. Eighteen years together, right down the drain.

She leaves them laying on the long abandoned magazine and Jake couldn’t make himself pick them up. He didn’t want to touch them. “We need to tell them.”

“They won’t understand,” Sarah argues.

“So we shouldn’t say anything? They’re old enough to understand that something is wrong. We need to sit down together and talk to them,” he reasons but Sarah seems disinterested in continuing their conversation.

“No. You can tell them whatever you want. I’m not doing this,” Sarah snaps, blindsiding him. What the fuck is she saying?

When he asks her as much, Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, that cold, hard exterior back in place. “I’m leaving. You can tell them whatever you see fit. It’s honestly not my problem.”

Jake explodes. “You’re not even going to say goodbye? How am I supposed to go pick up our children and explain to them why their mother isn’t home? How is that fair? To me? To them?!” He wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.

The chair scrapes on the floor as Sarah stands and Jake follows suit, anger coursing through his veins. “You can’t just leave.”

Sarah simply levels him with a glare, challenging him to make another move. After a tense minute Sarah folds, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Pick up the boys and we’ll talk.”

“I swear to God, if you’re not here when I get back -”

“I’ll be here,” Sarah promises, sitting back down and flipping the magazine open again. The rings clatter onto the table and down onto the floor but neither of them makes an effort to get them.

As he pulls out of the driveway, Jake prays that she’ll still be there when they get back. He doesn’t believe her but at this point, he doesn’t have a choice. He chooses to believe that she wouldn’t abandon their sons. She might be tired of him, their marriage, but Jake knows Sarah loves Josh and Levi. She wouldn’t just leave. She couldn’t.

After exchanging a few words with Javy and making sure the boys are safely strapped in their seats, Jake rushes back home. He drives slower than he’d like to but with the boys in the car, he’s not willing to risk it.

Dread fills him when he pulls into the driveway. The garage is open and Sarah’s convertible is gone. After bribing the boys with ice cream if they promise to stay in the car just a little while longer, Jake jogs up the porch, heart sinking in his chest.

The house is eerily quiet when he steps inside and he berates himself for trusting Sarah to stay true to her word. Because all that is left of the woman he’s loved for eighteen years, the mother of his children, is a note on the fridge.

“Tell the boys I love them.”

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#jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #fe writes #fic: fields of dandelions

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