#Boxing Injuries

[freaksbuzz]

How To Protect Nose In Boxing And Avoid Injuries

[jay-wasreblogging]

If you're in Australia and Jewish, please be aware that in Victoria, Melbourne a synagogue was firebombed with worshippers inside this morning.

Thankfully no one was killed however this is a horrific attack that could lead to copycats and or an escalation of hate crimes against Jewish Australians. I am in no way qualified to talk on how to handle such an event as a non-Jewish person. I cannot begin to think of the many Jewish Australians who are now fearful of their life in public, in their place of worship and in their home. I can only provide you some resources that may help ease you.

Here are some helplines that are catered to Jewish people and for anyone else impacted by the attack to call or use;

JewishHouse: 24/7 service offering support for those experiencing a crisis. ➡️ 1300 544 357

JewishCare: 9am to 5pm service offering counselling. ➡️ 1300 133 660

HeadSpace: provides online counselling and telephone support for young people aged 12 to 25. ➡️ 1800 650 890

Kids Helpline: 24/7 telephone and online counselling service for young people aged 5 to 25. ➡️ 1800 55 1800

Mental Health Line: 24 hour mental health telephone access service for adults and children. ➡️ 1800 011 511

Lifeline: 24 hour telephone counselling service. ➡️ 13 11 14

Please don't hesitate to reach out for support or to connect with the people in your community. I believe that as people we can always find comfort and strength in one another to get through tough times.

Edit: I'm turning reblogs off since some of you guys don't understand that I can want both Palestinian and Israeli/Jewish people to be free of harm and death. I do not believe that either group needs to perish in order for the other to flourish. The fact that some of you equate me wanting Jewish people in my country to be aware of what has happened and providing helplines to now being anti-palestinian or that because I want palestinians to be free that I am a antisemitic is very telling on the type of person that you are. I want a world where everyone can be happy, safe and healthy - as naive as that makes me sound, I'd rather be naive. That's it. That's all.

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Mikey skeletal anatomy! Click for better quality

Box turtles are the kinds of turtles who can fully fit into and close their shells along a single hinge in their plastron, which once closed is extremely hard to break into for any kind of predator especially if they cannot get a proper grip on the dome of the shell. Box turtles are also usually found in plains rather than ponds, and while they need water to survive and keep hydrated and can swim well, they’re not generally considered aquatic. Box turtles do have an interesting adaptation due to their more northern range of being able to survive freezing temperatures for a short period of time by slowing their metabolism outside of seasonal brumation (similar to hibernation, but more of a dormant state) if absolutely needed.

After watching TMNT ‘03 where the turtles meditate to save oxygen and prevent suffocation in a broken airlock, I thought, why not mix their ninja ability to conceal their body heat and breath and mix it with a turtles natural ability to brumate? Perhaps the brothers could enter into a completely dormant state on command with enough training in order to survive extreme situations or astral project in some form. Just a fun thought to tie their strong mystic powers with their physical abilities!

Although I use the term heterothermy to refer to them being able to vary between generating their own body heat while active and relying on environmental temperature while inactive, the intricacies of understanding thermal regulation in animals eludes me. If there’s a term that fits better, go ahead! I’m not a biologist so you probably know better lol

These are all my personal head cannons! You can use em’ as reference or not, whichever you prefer :)

[General][Raph][Donnie][Leo][Splinter]

[el-cabroncito]

This photo has done irreversible damage to my psyche. If I had to take a guess I’m thinking it’s from Sachsenring 2021 but I’m not actually sure. Like he normally keeps it together in Parc ferme and in front of cameras but if it is Sachsenring his body would have been in a lot of pain he he would have been so high on painkillers but also just the emotion of it all

[non-newtonian-id]

this is complete insanity on my part because i thought about PIDW!Shang Qinghua a little too much but

he and PIDW!Mu Qingfang were in love. to me.

they never actual got together before og!sqh died but there was mutual pining happening

trust, i spoke to airplane himself (<- guy being delusional about two double fictional characters (characters that are fictional within a factional setting))

[sickficideas]

I NEED your Al/astor hc's please! He is also my fav and Im dying out here from lack of sickfic

omg of couuurseee💖 he's a prime candidate for being miserable

- this dubbed comic (which is delicious by the way 10/10 recommend) put me on board horribly seasick alastor lol...i think he doesn't really get motion sickness otherwise but on boats he feels like he's dying. unbearable nausea that is not easily remedied by anything. i think when he was alive it was much more manageable. Just a little nausea, and certainly something he'd never admit being from Louisiana but now there's absolutely no hiding it :))

- i think he hates throwing up, not in the emetophobic way, i think he just hates dealing with it. in an "i need to get this over with as soon as possible" kind of way

- does Not ❌️ like people touching him when he's sick or injured. in general not a fan of physical contact but in these instances especially. however when he truly can't do anything to help himself, he'll slowly lower his walls to let people help him, but certain things are still absolutely off limits

- when things are really bad. high fever, awful injury... and he's not all mentally there he'll start talking about his mom, or when mistaking people taking care of him as his mother 🥺 absolutely heartbreaking to anyone around to witness it. he said it once to charlie and she cried her eyes out poor thing. she knows his mother used to take good care of him

- i also love the idea of him being really good at taking care of other people because of his mother 🥺 him being sweet and helpful is very off putting to the majority of the hotel residents lol angel dust is creeped out by it

I have another ask with a request for alastor headcanons as well so I'll make some more on that one :))

[blusical]

The 2024 Paris Olympics: Images of the Moment

(sorry for the weirdness, tumblr only allows 30 images so i had to combine them)

[emiplayzmc]

daisuke and glisten interaction where glisten steals daisuke's pink jacket or smthn

NEEDED to doodle this idea. Glisten would slay in Daisuke's jacket ngl.

(I. May do a full art piece of him and Daisuke at some point because of this ask and how much I liked doodling it...)

I iimagine Anya is hanging out with Brightney someplace in the background - I feel like she'd like Brightney :)

[corrodedbisexual]

"For your modesty, dude"

[slightly-warmer-hibiscus-tea]

weird request but maybe blood-stained Ais with flowers in his hair? Something lovely to go with the violence.

Also, I really love your art by the way!

First off, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!❤️🥲

Secondly, I’m currently Obsessed with this idea! Though my table is almost at 10%, my pen is dead, and it’s 5am. So I’m gonna take a break (and probably a nap) and finish this once everyone is charged and ready to go again. Thank you very much for this ask. I’m going to rotate this in my sleep😤❤️

[valverii]

ENTER ARAHABAKI

NEW AU in which amateur boxer atsushi is roped into helping unravel an underground boxing ring. how he plans to accomplish that? fighting his way to the top. (of course i’m dropping chuuya’s design first but this au may be shin soukoku centric. unless.)

[dailymakotonaegi]

[nardos-primetime]

"Do we use stitches or glue?

What is going to see me through?"

[desthebolt]

Are you still taking requests? If so, could you draw Anya or Curly from mouthwashing? I think they would look neat in your style! >u<

I’m not unfortunately, but i actually drew them like a few minutes ago so i guess im posting them bejdhdb

[womenwhump]

Otherside Picnic

[highwaywhump]

remember this piece?

unnamed guard dog is still unnamed.

TW/CW: pet whump, (former and current) dehumanization/animalization, distraught whumpee, whumpee idealizes death mentions of scars and injuries, long term whump situation, tbh not much is happening here but two old men are having a moment ig

---

The flames weren’t real. 

They were the first thing the guard dog saw when he was pulled from the abyss. Orange LED lights scattering through lenses and refractors, creating the illusion of a pile of embers that would never go out. 

And still, he noticed he wasn’t particularly cold. It wasn’t slick linoleum or cold metal against his skin, it was… fur?

He blinked and looked around, trying to get his eyes to refocus. He was on his side on a cream fur rug, facing a fake fireplace with neverending little fake flames dancing along the edges of fake logs. He turned over, biting his teeth together as his shoulders protested the movement. He was getting too old to be laying on floors, even if they were covered by plush fur rugs. 

Then again, that wasn’t up to him. 

What had even happened to land him here? It was a living room with high windows stretching up and up and up towards even higher ceilings. An luxurious-looking leather sofa, complete with a matching pair of chairs, made up the seating arrangement. There were bookshelves along the walls, a huge blue-hued painting of foggy hills on another. Everything looked needlessly expensive. 

Who had put him here? Why?

He tried to sit up, only to groan and rub his face with his palms as a sharp pain shot through his head. He hadn’t just been sleeping, he figured. He was always groggy after naps, but never like this. Somebody must have … given him … something- 

The guard dog lurched forwards, doubling over on himself and gagging violently as the memories flooded back to him, filling all his senses. The cold examination table, the clammy blue gloved hands, the bright light, the syringe… He would have thrown up, had he had anything to eat the last seven days. His pulse was racing, his hands were shaking as he grabbed onto the fur of the rug, trying to ground himself. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

The voice pierced through the blood rushing in his ears. 

“Thought I lost you there for a second. Again.” 

The voice was more familiar to him than the ache in his bones, the taste of blood in his mouth, the tight skin of his scars. 

He didn’t have to turn around and face the source of the voice to know who it belonged to. More importantly, he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to believe it could be real. 

That he was back with him again. 

It took him several long, grueling seconds to find his voice. He realized he hadn’t used it for weeks, and when it finally came out of his mouth, it was gravelly and rough, nearly impossible to shape into words. For a moment there was only bare sound, akin to that of a wounded predator. 

Then, finally, did the words come. 

“I… I was supposed to feel better.” 

The voice of the man he did not want to face, scoffed, caught off guard. “What?” 

The guard dog keeled over, his scarred, wide hands digging into the rug as he yelled into its plush fur. 

“I was supposed to feel better!” 

“I fucking hope you do!” the voice snapped harshly, and a pair of fine leather shoes trod across the dark hardwood, into the guard dog’s line of sight. 

“You better feel fucking great! They were going to kill you!” 

“Yes!” the guard dog moaned, hiding his face in his hands. His shoulders shuddered, the scars there dancing. “That was the point.” His voice took on a sore quality, like he was straining to control it, to keep it together. He didn’t look like the mighty guard dog he once was, hunched over on the plush rug, stifling his sobs. 

“That was the point, so why didn’t you let them.” 

The other man was silent for a beat. The guard dog could, between his fingers and through the tears fogging up his eyes, catch a glimpse of the black Oxfords he wore, perfectly shined as always. 

Derbies are for doormen and loafers are for geriatrics. If you forget everything else, remember that, pup. 

The man sighed and went down on one knee, steadying himself with a hand on the floor. He wore the same ring he always had. The red garnet shone in the fake firelight, reminding the guard dog of all the times that hand had struck him, the ring often slicing the skin of his cheek. 

 “Don’t tell me I should have let them murder you. I don’t want to hear it.” His voice was resigned, but nevertheless cold, not leaving it up for discussion. Some years ago, that voice would have been enough for the guard dog to forget even the mere thought of disobedience. 

“Why did you bring me back here? Why-” The guard dog hunched in on himself, caught in a coughing fit brought on by the sudden and harsh use of his gravelly voice. He wouldn’t be surprised if he coughed up blood on the fine fur rug. 

The man, now behind his back, did not react to the sharp onslaught. He remained silent until the guard dog’s wide shoulders had stopped their rhythmic contractions. His voice was still unwavering. “I am only reclaiming what is mine.”

“Yours?” The guard dog barked out, then groaned as his sore lungs protested. “You sold me! You didn’t want me anymore. You sent me away to the first caller!” 

“I sold you only because I had no other choice. You do not understand these things. You never did.”

The man reached out as he said this, hand folded, and slid his knuckles down the column of the guard dog’s neck. 

His touch was like an electric shock, his warm and gentle hand such a contrast to the guard dog’s cold surroundings that he flinched like he had been hit, his spine jerking away on its own accord. The skin contact was enough to wrench another violent sob from his body. 

“And I let Louie take you only because I couldn’t bear the thought of having to see you go any further. It was better to do it quickly. It wouldn’t have been healthy for either of us to wait around for the right person.” 

“There was nothing healthy about him!” groaned the guard dog. “He put me in the fights! I made his fortune when I knocked out Bruiser! And six months later he sold me on again, and after that….” His voice broke. His anger seemed to have dissipated now, replaced by violent sobs that caused his whole body to heave and lurch in between his words. 

“Oh, pup. What did they do to you…” The man’s fingers ghosted across his spine, following one particularly nasty scar, too jagged to come from a blade. “I never should have let you go, should I.” 

“I wish you never got me back.” Despite the words, the guard dog’s voice was not resentful, only fatigued and spent. 

“Don’t you like me anymore? You used to love me.” 

He was quiet for a while. The man wondered idly if he had passed out, but did not check.  

“It wasn’t love,” came the rough voice eventually. “It wasn’t about that.” 

“Then what was it about?” 

“Loyalty.” The answer came before he could even think of it. Loyalty was the fundament for everything he was, everything he would ever be. Everything he had ever done. “I will always be loyal to you. No matter what you do to me.” He recalled the very last beating they had shared, the evening before his new owner had retrieved him and brought him to the fighting rings. 

It was quiet for a while.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I will always be loyal to you, too,” the man said eventually. 

He looked up, suddenly face to face with the man he had been made for, all those years ago. Now older, rougher, gray around the edges, but still the same brown eyes, framed by the same perpetually upturned eyelids. The guard dog’s own eyes were bloodshot, tear tracks creating shiny trails down his cheeks. They were only a few inches apart, the man having knelt down to his level. 

It wasn’t the first time they had been this close, but the guard dog watched him with fresh eyes this time. Nigh on two decades of life away from his master had forever changed the curious atmospheric aura they once used to share. 

“You’re right. I will never believe you again.” 

The familiar brown gaze studied him for a second, jumping down and back up, roaming the litany of scars and blemishes on his skin, several stretching into his hairline. His lips made a peculiar twitch before he suddenly sat back up and got to his feet, limber and flexible despite his age. 

“In any case, you’re getting a hosedown before dinner. You smell like shit.”

---

tags:

@maracujatangerine (were there more of you? lmk, also lmk if you don't want me to tag you)