#like exercise. exercise hurts.

[classicintp]

being chosen as the dedicated sadist because you're actually a masochist and know the best techniques

[scealaiscoite]

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅ a month’s worth of whump prompts ]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

¹⁾ blood swirling down a shower drain

²⁾ stitches on a cheekbone

³⁾ fingertips numb from cold

⁴⁾ painkillers and a cup of tea left on a nightstand

⁵⁾ a thick plaster cast

⁶⁾ canine teeth tipped with blood

⁷⁾ a bruise in the shape of a boot print

⁸⁾ dried tear tracks

⁹⁾ an inescapable migraine

¹⁰⁾ sunglasses over a bruised eye

¹¹⁾ scars littering the expanse of a back

¹²⁾ bloodied teeth

¹³⁾ skinned knees

¹⁴⁾ a torn-apart first aid kit

¹⁵⁾ frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise

¹⁶⁾ brambles and twigs knotted into hair

¹⁷⁾ lipstick and a split lip

¹⁸⁾ an especially improvised tourniquet

¹⁹⁾ blood seeping through clothes

²⁰⁾ a heart monitor

²¹⁾ unbearable nausea

²²⁾ a hoarse throat

²³⁾ blood under fingernails

²⁴⁾ a thermometer between bitten lips

²⁵⁾ hands soothing over a shaking frame

²⁶⁾ a twisted ankle on the side of a mountain

²⁷⁾ cuddling for warmth

²⁸⁾ thin hospital blankets

²⁹⁾ broken glass

³⁰⁾ a knife pressed against a throat

³¹⁾ night terrors

[annabelle--cane]

hey guys did you know that doing stretches and exercises makes your body feel better? it's crazy, they should tell people about this it's so wild.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Imagining Denki being casted as the villain in a training exercise and after plenty of confirmation that he should be acting like a villain would 100 percent and he doesn't need to play nice and for the love of GOD Kaminari just do the fucking exercise already, he takes one of his classmates hostage during the fight to get away from the heroes (his other classmates)

Holding his fingers up to the classmates head, threatening to electrocute their brain into mush, even shocking them a teeny bit to show he's "serious", he actually manages to get his classmates to lower their weapons and shoots a truly harmless amount of electricity into his hostage's back to stun them as he pushes them at the heroes and makes a run for it

At the end of the exercise, he gets a really good grade for his skills in undercover work

Because if I can't give him my theatrics what even is the point

[not-gray-politics]

Trans women. I'm grabbing you by the shoulders and yelling. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE SKINNY TO BE FEMININE AND PRETTY AND CUTE. PLEASE STOP MAKING DIETS PART OF YOUR TRANSITION GOALS. WEIGHT LOSS IS A SCAM. I LOVE YOU. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL.

[0039pf-third-blog-hooray]

slowly but surely… 😔🥀🥀 another wip of my wintersberg piece

[miodiodavinci]

im being so so brave but also i am gripping you by the shoulders and leaning in and letting you know i am so tired of being brave

[bia-bonne]

"This is how it should be"

[blairamok]

my body is in complete shock. i have never done an athletic thing in my entire life and just decide to pick up ice skating. holy fuck i can barely move

I’M HAVING FUN THO

[crimeronan]

i had a dream that there was a genuinely benevolent man who wanted to give away $400,000 no strings attached to someone who truly needed it, and for some reason he considered me in the running, and i was like, "oh, i would have been last year, but i'm not anymore. like i need to be honest with you, i'd LIKE the money but i can't in good conscience take it from someone else. i'm able-bodied now and nearly back to full independence"

and he was like "okay, show me. climb these stairs."

and then he brought me to a staircase made up of about 60 incredibly steep steps. that were so sheer it was like a vertical rock climb.

my right hip was already hurting but i was like "yeah lmao, no problem :)" and started to climb. it became Immediately Apparent that i couldn't put my full weight on my right side, so i carefully hobbled up each step using my left leg and the railings.

halfway up my hip fully gave out.

the guy was like, "okay, okay, stop, i've seen enough. oh my god no. hey. STOP" and i was like "NO, I CAN FUCKING DO IT. I TOLD YOU I CAN DO IT AND I'M GOING TO DO IT." and then i pushed myself up the remaining steps by using my arms and hopping on my good leg.

which was difficult but achievable! i was incredibly proud of myself. i am the hulk. i am buff. i have the arm strength of a god.

sadly no one else was nearly as impressed. at the top there were a couple women who i guess worked with the mysterious benefactor, and they grabbed me and hauled me onto the upper landing like "WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING DO THAT?? WHY DID YOU DO THAT" as i Finally got to sit down.

anyway.

i then woke up with my right leg twisted well over 90 degrees. and pinned beneath me.

because my hip had subluxed worse in my sleep than it has in probably, like.... Over A Year.

so.

this is what two weeks without PT does to a motherfucker.

[ahalliance]

still thinking about this rly small moment from yesterday….. the silences weigh so incredibly heavy here . they don’t know what they’d do if they lost pomme :(

mini transcript below the cut

[Video Transcript:

Etoiles: On the other hand, dude, if we have to save the Eggs and there’s an Egg that isn’t saved— no, that’s horrible. It can’t be that.

Aypierre: Imagine you— I don’t know. Imagine we have a group of— they’re unable to save Pomme, and it’s the only group without any French.

Etoiles: No but it’s horrible.

Aypierre: Do you, uh— do you hate them forever?

[Pause]

Etoiles: Well then again you couldn’t blame them.

[Pause]

Etoiles: You couldn’t blame them, but—

Aypierre: Imagine it’s Slimecicle’s group, and he misclicks on Pomme, and he kills her.

Etoiles: Then again— oh, Slimecicle’s group, yeah.

end Video Transcript.]

[lycanlovebites]

I’m having normal thoughts about boys right now ok (I have a deep visceral need to hunt someone through the forest, nothing but the sound of him gasping and breaking through the brush with his heartbeat thrumming like an animal of its own in his chest and in my ears, my paws beating against the earth as I race after him, teeth clicking and practically foaming at the mouth at his scent. Just him and me in the dead of night. And when I finally catch him I pin him to the ground and fuck his brains out under the full moon <3 )

I can be left alone with a pretty guy in the middle of the night under a full moon. Yeah just leave him by the forest :) no yeah don’t worry abt it haha yeah I’m just gonna go out for a run :) it will be good for me and also him. Enrichment :) being hunted by a big werewolf counts as a couples exercise right

[jaynovz]

I do wanna say re: Silver Backstory and my rec list and my tendency to poke and prod and explore where he may have come from--

That's not me saying that the way his character is presented in the canon *needs* that, at ALL.

First off, the speech on the cliffs, the Solomon Little stories, the complete inability to share?

It's perfect for the character, as well as an absolutely jaw-dropping ballsy as hell decision to make a prequel/adaptation about the most famous pirate figure in Western media and simply... refuse to define him in those terms the way we've seen the other main characters. It's such a ballsy and brilliant move that sometimes I stare at the wall thinking about what they have done and just, god I hope one day I can write something that great. I could go on about that but it's not my main point.

Second off, many ppl have said that the point is that the story of Black Sails itself *becomes* his origin, and in many ways that is absolutely true and I agree.

However, I also wanna point out that the acting and the writing reflect all the information we would ever need to know about John Silver even if he cannot bear to speak it in specifics.

in 4.9, Silver says:

“I have no story to tell. It all might seem as though I’m trying to conceal something from you, but… truth is, there is no story to tell. ... Not unremarkable, just…without relevance. A long time ago, I absolved myself from the obligation of finding any. No need to account for all my life’s events in the context of a story that somehow…defines me. Events, some of which, no one could divine any meaning from…other than that the world is a place of unending horrors. I’ve come to peace with the knowledge…that there is no storyteller imposing any coherence, nor sense, nor grace upon those events. Therefore, there’s no duty on my part to search for it. You know of me all I can bear to be known. All that is relevant to be known."

"Other Than That The World Is A Place Of Unending Horrors."

Now, coming at this as someone with my own fucked up trauma, that one sentence coupled with the performance from Luke really tells us everything we need to know.

So yeah, in a way it both does and doesn't matter that we don't get his history wrapped up in a pretty package, both bc it's NEVER THAT SIMPLE, and bc his REACTIONS to events/ppl are... so VERY clearly the reactions of someone who has been deeply traumatized. We don't NEED to know for the story and character to work EXACTLY as intended.

We can see him, we the audience. If you pay attention, he is not some mystery at all. We may not know exactly what happened to him, but also, we do... don't we?

[thenorsiest]

Fuck the people who perpetuate the idea that corsets are painful! That they’re meant to be laced up so tight you can’t breathe and that women who wore them in history were being tortured.

I get to wear them every year at my local Ren Faire and do you know how I feel? Comfortable!

They’re snug and form fitting like a good hug. They literally lower my anxiety like one of those vests designed for dogs during thunderstorms.

They take pressure off my back by forcing me into a more proper posture. I wear that thing for six hours then feel its effects for days afterwards.

On top of that I look sexy as hell! Do you know what that does for my self esteem? Do you realize how much I strut and smile and laugh just because I think I look pretty!?

I will not tolerate corset slander!

[mollysunder]

God I'm so stupid sometimes... they're sisters. The two girls, one in white, gold, and blue and the other in green with a reddish pink are supposed to represent Piltover and Zaun respectively. One keeps her hair short while the other pulls her hair into a braid, though the braid's obscured.

And it's like, oh right, it's called A Tale of Two Sisters. Piltover's the older sister and Zaun's the younger sister. They even put Vi and Jinx on the same sides. It makes me wonder how literally Arcane will take the metaphor.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

He couldn’t hold his tears back. His hand laid on their cheek – they looked at him almost the same way they always looked, their expression cold, neutral, if it wasn’t for the discrete, practically unnoticeable tension of their features. Sorriness. They were sorry. He could feel it as if it was his own heart tightening in his chest.

Oh, how bad he wished to tell them they didn’t have to be sorry. That it wasn’t their fault. But he couldn’t let his mind linger on the feeling without addressing every other hurt. There was so much to say. And no words to describe the loneliness and despair stabbing at every part of his body and mind. It was cryogenic liquid burning his insides. Pressing against his lungs until he would choke. And it was imprisoned in his core, chained to his soul and wrapped in satin-like silence.

What was there to do, except to shed every tear he possessed? He couldn’t imagine any single way to describe it. He could only cry and scream for all of eternity in a desperate attempt to relieve the monster clawing at his heart. But even then, his eyes would dry up and his breath would go missing before the ache would subside. And it would never be enough.

He wondered when did they stop crying. He wished he has known. He wished he has been here for them sooner; before they grew used to it. But he knew even then, he couldn’t have fixed it. Just like he couldn’t now. There was no escaping it.

“You’re…” He started before choking up a sob. Looking up at them and to the ground again as he felt himself tremble and struggled to articulate the words. “You’re in… so… much… pain…!”

Two hands came up to cup his face and tilt it up as he kept crying and crying. He couldn’t stand so much sorrow. How could they? How had they been able to keep going when their chest weighted heavier than a cold star?

When he looked at them again, a smile lit up weakly on their face, and inside of him, he felt the tiniest warmth spark – so small compared to the cold and the darkness that tried to engulf it, but so, so powerful. His gaze was frantic, desperately searching for a way to keep this relief – or was it love? – alive. For a way to make it grow big enough to eclipse the hurt forever. But there wasn’t such thing. There would never be.

His face twisted into a pained frown as he felt both of their thumbs wipe away his tears – trying to reassure him, trying to keep the misery at bay, to hide it away from him – and their eyes bore into his.

“Hush.” They smiled gently. “No reasons to cry. There will be brightness forward.”

They said it with this distant, hesitating hope that they were right. Like they refused to believe it too much. In case they would be wrong.

With all the grief and ache of their pierced heart, they looked at him like they were going to make things better, and they whispered.

“The past is behind us. We need to keep moving. Otherwise we won’t see the beauty ahead.”

And oh. He loved them. More than ever, he loved them.