#pain below knee cap above shin

[drandrewstherapeuticblogs]

How do you apply kinesiology tape to a knee?

While applying kinesiology tape to a knee, it is critical to follow the legitimate method to guarantee that the tape is successful and agreeable. Here is a general guide on the most proficient method to apply kinesiology tape to a knee:

Set up the skin: Ensure the skin is spotless, dry, and liberated from any moisturizers, oils, or creams. In the event that this is fundamental, shave any hair from the region where the tape will be applied.

Measure and cut the tape: Slice the tape to the proper length, considering an additional length to make anchors.

Apply the anchor points: Apply one end of the tape to the skin simply above or beneath the knee joint. Stretch the tape somewhat and apply the opposite finish to the skin on the opposite side of the knee, making an anchor point.

Apply the primary strip: Beginning at the anchor point, apply the principal portion of tape at the edge of the knee, extending it somewhat as you go. Try to apply the tape uniformly, with no kinks or overlap.

Apply the X-strip: Cut one more segment of tape and apply it askew across the knee joint, making an X-shape. This can offer extra help and strength to the knee.

Rub the tape: Rub the tape with your hand to enact the glue and assist it in adhering to the skin.

Check for comfort: Make sure the tape is agreeable and not too close or prohibitive. In the event that it is essential, change the strain or reapply the tape.

It means quite a bit to take note of the fact that the particular strategy for applying kinesiology tape to a knee might differ based on the individual's necessities and the nature of their physical issue. It is always a good idea to consult with a medical services expert or a kinesiology tape master for guidance on the proper procedure for your specific situation. 

[torreshalstead]

You make the miles worth it - Chapter 18

Summary - The Chicago Marathon had always been a dream for Hailey. And when she meets a stranger in pink running shoes whilst training, she realises maybe she had been dreaming for more.

Chapters - 19/23

Chapter Summary - It’s Jay and Hailey’s penultimate long run but Hailey has a crisis of confidence.

Notes - Thanks as always for the support on this fic, just about to enter the final arc of this story before it’s conclusion! Hope you enjoy! AO3 Link

4 weeks to go

The sun was beating down on them as Hailey and Jay ran their usual route along the waterfront. Not only was the heat radiating from above but it was heating up the sidewalk meaning it was radiating from below as well. Hailey could feel herself sweating in places she didn’t even know could produce that much sweat, back of the knees, who knew! She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead before tugging her baseball cap back into place in an attempt to keep the sweat from making its way to her eyes. It was in vain however as a moment later the salty liquid made contact with her eye and she groaned.

‘You good?’ Jay asked worriedly at Hailey’s grunt of pain.

‘Sweat in the eye’, she said through gritted teeth as she attempted to use the corner of her tank top to dab at her eye to alleviate some of the pain.

‘Worst pain known to man,’ Jay said matter of factly to a bewildered look from Hailey.

‘But you’ve been shot!’ she exclaimed.

‘And I stand what I said; sweat in the eye is a beast’, he smirked and Hailey laughed.

They were currently 10 miles deep into an 18 mile training run, their penultimate long run before the dreaded 20 miler next week. And Hailey had hated every single step of it. Having Jay with her was helping but she was still not enjoying it.

For the previous long runs, although she wouldn’t have called them pleasant, she didn’t hate them. She knew why she was doing it and the pain her body had experienced had always felt like it was worth it. Today, she couldn’t see past the fact it was far too hot, her legs felt like lead, she was drenched in sweat and she just felt done.

‘You alright?’ Jay said after Hailey hadn’t responded to his sweat in the eye comment, she was never usually one to turn down an excuse to make fun of him so her silence was worrying.

‘Of course,’ she said, faking a smile and continuing to put one foot in front of the other, ignoring the ache that was radiating through her shins.

What was getting to Hailey today was not the worry that she wouldn’t be able to finish the distance, that thought had plagued her on her previous runs but she felt confident that she could do the 18 miles today. It was just the fact that she really wasn’t enjoying it, and if she wasn’t enjoying the training then maybe she wouldn’t enjoy the race.

She had dreamt about the marathon for years and had been looking forward to it but now she was worried that maybe she had painted a picture of it through rose tinted glasses and the experience would be nothing like she was hoping it would be.

Jay was continuing a one-sided conversation which she was paying zero attention to, instead her brain was failing to shut down the negative thoughts that were currently spiralling around it.

She had told everyone she was running the marathon and just how ecstatic she had been when she finally got in. People had told her she was crazy but Hailey had just shut them down and had been looking forward to it with every bone in her body. But today, all those people seemed right. How could it possibly be enjoyable, pushing your body to the point of exhaustion, running 26.2 miles and paying for the privilege of doing so, putting up with the pain, the blisters and the chafing in places that should never chafe, and doing so in front of an audience of thousands of people. It was starting to sound like the most unappealing thing in the world, and Hailey had to do it in 4 weeks.

When she and Michael had dreamt about completing the race years ago, they were going to run the whole thing together, through thick and thin, pain and success. But now the concept of going through all of that without him, Hailey wasn’t sure she could do it.

Yes, she had trained with Jay but the two had never spoken about the actual logistics of the race. Hailey assumed he would be aiming for a faster time than she was, in reality she was just hoping to finish, so them running it together wouldn’t make any sense.

‘Hails?’ Jay’s voice broke through Hailey’s internal monologue. ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ His voice was laced with concern but Hailey just nodded.

‘I’m all good, Jay. Really, I’m fine’, but when her voice cracked on the final word, they both knew she wasn’t fine.

‘Hey-’ Jay began as he slowed to a stop and reached a hand out to touch her arm but she recoiled away.

‘I’m too sweaty, don’t touch me’, she said more angrily than she had intended to.

‘I’m sorry’, he said tentatively, raising both his hands in the air to demonstrate he wasn’t going to touch her as he took a step closer. Hailey turned her back on him and looked out over the water, her hands coming to rest atop her head as the floodgates opened and the tears began to pour down her cheeks.

Jay could tell from the way her shoulders were shaking that Hailey was crying but after her reaction when he had reached for her last time, he was hesitant that he knew how to help. He took another cautious step closer to Hailey, and when she didn’t flinch away from him this time, he took another.

‘Hails, please talk to me,’ he said softly. Seeing the woman he cared about, more deeply than she knew, clearly in pain was hurting his heart.

‘I just…’ she sniffed, not turning around from her position. ‘It’s stupid,’ she muttered after a second, bringing down one of her hands to wipe across her tear stained face.

‘If it’s making you feel like this, it’s not stupid Hailey,’ Jay said calmly.

‘I just hate this’, she said, plopping herself down onto the grass in a rather undignified manner, pulling her legs tight up to her chest. ‘I was so excited for the race but I hate this.’

Jay nodded understandingly before taking a seat next to her on the grass. Sitting on the ground in the middle of a training run wasn’t exactly the best feeling in his legs, but if it helped Hailey then he’d do it a thousand times over.

‘What if I hate the race?’ She muttered.

‘Then you don’t do it again’, Jay said plainly. Hailey’s head shot up as she looked over at him, a puzzled expression etched across her cheeks. ‘I’m serious, you get to say you ran a marathon, you hated it and you don’t ever have to do one again.’ Hailey looked back across the water, the sunlight bouncing off the blue surface, maybe Jay was right.

‘I guess…’ she said doubtfully.

‘But just because you hate the training, doesn’t mean you’ll hate the race, Hailey. And I thought you’d been enjoying the training?’ Although they hadn’t run every training run together, every one they had done together, Jay had always seen Hailey with a smile at the end of the miles. But maybe he’d been imagining it.

‘I have, but today, I hate it. It’s too hot, my legs hurt, I’m sweating everywhere and we still have 8 miles to go!’ She said loudly, throwing her arms up in the air. She didn’t care if she was being overdramatic.

‘Well, today isn’t exactly the best conditions for a long run, I’ll admit. But just think how good it’ll feel when we’re done. And anyway the company isn’t half bad,’ he smirked and nudged her with his elbow, hoping to get a small smile from the blonde. He was rewarded when she turned her gaze on him, a tiny smile peaking through.

‘So on race day, when you think it’s getting tough then you look over at me, I’ll make you smile and we carry on’, he said firmly, leaning back on his arms as if that was the simple solution to everything.

‘You want to run together on race day?’ she asked, her eyes widening.

‘Of course! Why wouldn’t I?’

‘Because you’d be able to get a much better time without me dragging you down,’ she huffed and stared back at her knees again.

‘And if I want you to drag me down?’ He nudged her again. ‘But I’m serious Hails, I’m not doing this to get a fantastic time, it’s going to be a personal best anyway because, and I don’t know if you knew this, but I’ve never run a marathon before.’ He smirked again. ‘Taking it all in with you by my side, I couldn’t think of anything better’. His smirk turned into a smile, perhaps the most sincere one she had ever seen on his face.

‘You can’t?’ she sniffed, wiping any remaining tears away with the back of her hand.

‘Nope. The crowd, this city, the atmosphere. It’s going to be incredible, Hailey. And one training run where you feel like crap does not mean that you’ll feel that way when the time comes. And if you do, then I’ll help you and we’ll get through it together. And if I start to feel that way, then you’ll help me. We will get through it together’. He held out his hand.

‘Together,’ she echoed as she took his hand and felt him gently squeeze.

‘And when you cross that finish line, you’re going to be so proud of yourself. I’m going to be proud of you, Vanessa’s going to be proud of you. And Michael is going to be so proud of you Hailey.’ His words were genuine and she felt a warmth spread through her gut. She nodded, appreciating his candour but worried that she would cry even more if she opened her mouth to speak. He seemed to understand.

‘Come on, we’ve still got 8 miles to finish before you get to treat me to breakfast,’ he said cheerily as he jumped to his feet and reached down to pull her up.

‘I’m treating you, am I?’ she said as she dusted herself off and the pair returned to the footpath.

‘You are’, he said with a smirk.

‘Thank you, Jay’, she said softly, glancing across to meet his green eyes with her blue. ‘Sorry for the crisis of confidence and being an emotional wreck,’ she laughed.

‘Firstly, you’re not an emotional wreck and we all have a crisis of confidence at one time or another. It’s part of being human’, she nodded in agreement. ‘Marathon’s can bring out all the crazy emotions, you read about it all the time. People are always crying and laughing and having both the best and worst day of their life all at once.’

‘I guess so,’ she said, more to herself than to Jay as the pair restarted their efforts and continued along the trail. Maybe race day wouldn’t be so hideous, she thought, not with Jay by my side.

[drramakantkumar]

Front Knee Pain

Here get detailed info on front knee pain. Pain below Knee Cap above Shin. Sharp Pain in Knee Cap. Pain below Knee. Knee Pain When Bending. Pain On Top Of Kneecap. Anterior Knee Pain Treatment.

[whump-queen]

Regrets

content: angst, emotional abuse, caretaker turned whumper, abandonment, unreliable narrator

“It’s all your fault, you know.”

“I know,” Whumpee sat huddled on the floor, voice barely above a whisper.

“And you know that no one’s coming to save you this time, right?”

Whumpee hugged their knees to their chest, clinging to their own shins as if the bones would fall away at any moment.

“I know,” their voice was slightly more forced, higher pitched this time.

“And you— well, you know you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Whumpee sunk their eye sockets deep into their bent knee caps, silent falling tears swept up by the smooth fabric. A not-so-silent sob fell through.

Noticed.

“I—“ their voice cracked, “I— I know.”

“Then you should know there’s nothing I can do for you.”

And with that, the once-generous one turned on their heel and strode beyond the stone door, leaving Whumpee behind to wonder what would’ve been.

If only they’d been better. If only they’d understood the gravity of each order— if— if only they’d known.

Please, if they’d only known.

And yet, they already knew. They knew what the response would be.

That yes, this was a product of their own actions. Of their carelessness. Of them not taking each order seriously enough.

They had taken the kindness for granted. They should’ve been better, should’ve known better, should’ve taken everything more seriously and been better been better been better been—

They knew— they now knew it was a grave mistake to just believe what they were told verbatim.

It was their job not just to listen, nor just to obey, but to infer. To anticipate.

Whumpee knew— now knew that they should’ve been reading between the lines the whole time. They shouldn’t have been so stupid as to believe what they were told.

“And you, of all things, should know that it’s only the least sophisticated, the least trained, the least worthy, that blindly follow the fucking verbatim without using a single ounce of critical thinking. Or god forbid inference. Surely, you haven’t forgotten how to think entirely, have you?

The words played in Whumpee’s head again and again and again, always in Whumper’s voice, so unlike how it used to be, when it was the voice they’d fallen for.

But those words always played in that voice, the one that had made them forget themselves, the voice that made them abandon any notion of being worth anything at all, the voice that made them like it.

Yes— yes they supposed they must’ve forgotten how to think, after all.

“But— please— is this not the way you designed me?

Did you not want me this way?!

Please, please you’ve— you’ve incapacitated me I— I can’t think at all without thinking of you.”

The familiar voice spoke once more:

“Good. Then it proves I did at least one thing right.”

•—•—•—•

More drabbles

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@emmettnet yes I did write this when being angsty about yesterdays events cuz fml

honestly tho thanks to @whumpshaped for giving me the idea of writing my own pain into the whumpverse as a coping mechanism — mf elite, 500 IQ

[perlen-gold]

A Fenhawke Story

Part III ~ Chapter 6 

~ WARNING ~

This might not be an easy read. This is not a comfortable story. Neither a sweet one.

This is raw. This is rough. This is painful.

But if you’re brave enough to dare the leap and reach into the darkness, it might be worth the plunge...

(I’m sorry I’m so late with this chapter, the last week was just too exhausting 😌 😳)

Falling.

A sensation of falling through searing waters, of diving into air.

Cold wetness, an iciness seeping into him.

Fenris saw the ground above, his hands spread to avoid the fall, a bottomless heavy sky below him.

Blindingly white snow.

His shoulders grazed it and the world righted itself. But only so.

His toes, heels and shins sank deep.

Above, crystal-peaked mountains arch high against the forking outlines of bilious green strokes of lightning.

A world shaped itself as mists seeping out from under stone. Curved and arched over.

There was no air to shift around in travels, and yet, inexplicably, the wind had accompanied him and scurried around in whipped and whirled each wild-white strand of his hair afly. Up, up high, the dark sky gathered its storm-heart like a torrent.

Skyhold fortress was gone as if wiped away by the clapping of a giant’s hands. In its place, scattered amidst an the velvet-thick snow, only ruins stood of withered stone-rust and crumbling age.

The bedazzling white around him undulating in his frenzied hair was blaring gouges into Fenris’ darting eyes from the bending mountains around him. As ash from a wet-smoking bonfire, flares of snow rose into the sky, tumbling upward. Next to him, almost close enough to touch, to burn, was a tall, white-capped mountain. It looked as if it had been torn out from among his brethren, ripped like a meek plant’s roots out of the deep earth and then left there, forgotten, to float in the abandoned sky.

There was nothing around him but whiteness.

Whiteness as of gathered ash molded into dry-cold snow.

Whiteness all around, except for small clusters of red flowers spearing out from under thick velvet, specks of rubies, like droplets of blood.

With a sudden shudder Fenris felt his knees, finally, gave way. Crashing, his legs sank deep into the thick, ice-crusted snow. His ribs were shivering beyond command. He folded his chest into his arms.

“Hawke,” Fenris whispered.

Keep Reading on AO3

[luminnara]

Incubus!Bakugou x Male!Reader | NSFW 18+ |

So Y/n decides to summon a demon one day just for fun. He doesn’t actually expect it to work but what else is there to do on a Friday when your home alone? (Well, there’s many things but Y/n is weird so why not?) He doesn’t actually know what an incubus is, all he knows is that it’s a type of demon. So when he summons the demon and it actually works he’s quite surprised. He tries to explain to the demon that has introduced himself as Bakugou Katsuki, that he was mostly just messing around. Bakugou then asks him if he knows what an incubus is. When Y/n says he doesn’t know, Bakugou smirks and decides to just show him instead.

I just wanna say HI I LOVE THIS REQUEST, MORE MONSTERS PLEASE

Warnings: nsfw, anal, oral, two dongs! uhhh demon semen, very slight cumflation, i’m really bad at warnings omfg

Requests are open!

When you had decided to mess around and summon a demon, you didn’t really expect it to work. 

Yeah, you had followed the instructions to a T, and yeah, those instructions came from a musty old book that was probably bound in human skin or something, but seriously? You had just been bored, and what else was there to do on a Friday night other than summon an incubus, whatever that was? It’s not like it was hard to do, either; a few weird chalk drawings on the floor, some candles, and a bunch of words you didn’t know the meaning of, and suddenly, there was something crawling up out of the center of the pentagram. 

So, yeah, a typical Friday night, really.

The demon was, to put it simply, pretty fucking hot. The first thing you saw was a hand reaching up, thick black claws digging into your hardwood floor as it hauled itself out. As you stumbled back, more of the creature appeared, rising up as if you had just opened some sort of portal. It--or he?--was bathed in a red light that came from below, and it...or, he, seemed to be totally naked.

And pretty well endowed...not that you noticed, or anything.

Wait...were there two...?

“Oi, what’s the deal?” he growled, voice rough. He was standing above you now, cracking his neck to the side as he crossed his arms over a well-muscled chest. 

“H-huh?” you blinked up at him.

 Fuck, he was gorgeous, he really was. His hair was blonde and spiky, something you hadn’t really imagined on a demon. Two tall black horns curled up from his forehead, the tips capped in gold, but as grand as they were, you were focused on his eyes. They were crimson, the color of blood, and they were piercing right through you. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Humans.” he mumbled under his breath before crouching in front of you. “My name is Katsuki Bakugou, and you just summoned me. So are we getting this thing going, or what?”

“Wh-what?” you stammered, still staring in disbelief.

He looked completely unimpressed. “Seriously? What’s your deal? You summon me just to waste my time or somethin’, you idiot?”

Your face reddened in anger and embarrassment. “No! I...I didn’t really expect it to work, that’s all.”

The demon raised an eyebrow. “In over your head, huh? What were you doin’, messin’ with stuff you aren’t supposed to touch? Shit, you humans are so stupid sometimes...accidentally summoning a demon, tch...yeah right...”

“I did it on purpose, you know!” you snapped, irritated with his demeanor already. “I just...didn’t think I would actually summon something.”

Bakugou paused his annoyed grumbling and looked you over. “Well, here I am. What do you want from me? I’d rather get this over with quick. I’m a busy guy.”

You wondered what exactly he was so busy doing all day, but rather than ask, you realized that you had no idea what to do with the demon you had just summoned. 

“Oh, uh...” you stared at him blankly. “What...well, what can you do?”

It was his turn to stare. “The hell you mean? You’re the one who summoned an incubus. You tell me.”

You sat back, leaning against your couch and rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “I, uh...don’t really know what that means. I mean, I know an incubus is a demon and all, but that’s about...it...”

You trailed off, equal parts transfixed and concerned by the grin that was slowly creeping onto Bakugou’s face. It was predatory, showing off his sharp fangs as he pulled his lips back in a menacing snarl, and you were beginning to feel a bit like a rabbit that had just been caught by a fox. 

“Oh, human...” he purred, creeping towards you on all fours. 

You gulped, heart pounding. “Y/N. I’m y/n.”

His grin grew wider, and you suddenly wondered if you had just made a horrible mistake in telling him your name.

“Well, y/n,” he said, voice smooth as honey as he placed a hand on your shin. “Why don’t I just show you what an incubus does?”

“Uh,” you were frozen in place, staring into those mesmerizing eyes. “S-sure?”

That was when you noticed the tail. 

It slipped around your thigh, giving a tight squeeze as if holding you in place. Not like you were going anywhere, anyways; Bakugou was already making his way up your legs, reaching for your zipper. There was a hungry glint in his eyes as he shoved your jeans down, and by the time you realized you had been focusing on them, you also realized your cock was hard. 

Huh. When did that happen?

Bakugou leaned down, a long tongue sliding out of his mouth and wrapping around your cock. The second his lips touched you, your head fell back on the couch cushion behind you, a low moan leaving your throat. It was the best head you had ever received, and as the demon bobbed up and down on it greedily, you couldn’t believe how much you were already aching to cum. 

The air was filled with a heavy, luscious scent that you couldn’t place. All you knew was that it was the best thing you had ever smelled, and it was absolutely coming from the incubus currently crouching between your legs. He was insatiable, that fucking tongue sliding up and down, over and over, urging and coaxing and milking until you felt yourself unraveling. He swallowed every drop of cum, eyes flashing a bright red as he looked up at you. 

“This is what an incubus does, human,” he grinned, licking his lips. 

“O-oh,” you panted, chest heaving. You hadn’t realized you had been bracing yourself with your hands on the back of the couch, afraid to touch the demon as he went down on you, but now you were beginning to feel the tension leave your shoulders. “I...uh...wow...”

Bakugou stepped away from you and stood. “Up.”

You obeyed blindly, staring up at his twin cocks. They were standing at attention now, the lower one larger than the top, both shaped somewhat similarly to a human’s but also entirely differently. The sight of them made you want to find out more, to touch and explore, and before you could stop yourself, you were licking at the underside of a shaft while the demon’s hand guided your head. He tasted incredible, precum already oozing out of the tip, and as you worked on the bigger cock, he used his free hand to jack off the other. 

“Good human,” he growled down at you. “Making yourself useful so that I can make you feel even better later...”

You didn’t know what he was talking about, but you didn’t care. The taste of his cum was intoxicating, and the longer you sucked, the harder your own dick grew. You could feel a puddle of precum dripping down between your legs, your skin hot with arousal as that heavy scent swirled around you. Fuck, you couldn’t think. All you wanted was him.

“Easy now,” he grunted, pulling your hair until you could no longer reach his cock. 

You whined, reaching for it, but his tail immediately wrapped around your wrists and held you back. 

Bakugou chuckled. “On your hands and knees. Now.”

You had no choice but to obey, and as his warm hands ran up your back, you sighed. As terrifying as he was, you felt totally at ease. Even as he tore your shirt off, he was careful not to harm you, gentle in all of his movements. 

“Mmm, look at you...” he purred in that deep, rough voice of his. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, human...”

You shivered at his words, letting out a surprised, strangled moan as you felt his tongue on your ass. It swirled around, dipping in to stimulate your hole before it was replaced by one of his claws. You expected to feel pain, but there was only immeasurable pleasure as he finger fucked you, and soon, his other hand moved to stroke your cock. He was so masterful, so absolutely confident in all of his motions, and he soon had you cumming again, moaning his name as you made a mess all over your own floor. 

“F-fuck,” you said, shaking slightly. 

“Good?” he asked, grabbing your ass appreciatively. 

“Fuck yes,” you let your head drop, leaning against the floor as you tried to catch your breath. 

“The best is yet to come, human.”

You glanced around your arm, looking back at him. “What do you...?”

Your eyes widened at the sight of him leaning towards you, one of his cocks definitely aiming for your ass. 

“W-wait! You’re not going to fit--”

“Trust me,” he said soothingly, holding your hip. “Just relax and let me do my job.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, watching over your shoulder as he slowly pressed his larger cock into you. 

There wasn’t any of the pain you expected. It wasn’t even uncomfortable. Bakugou felt amazing, his cock stretching you in a way you had never experienced before. Hell, you hadn’t even played with your ass that much in the past, and suddenly here he was, finding a steady pace and rutting into you like a starved, depraved monster. 

The sounds you were letting out were filthy, the room filled with guttural moans and groans and the slapping of skin against skin. Each of his thrusts felt better than the last, the ridges of his inhuman cock stimulating you in the most perfect way while his smaller dick slid between your cheeks. 

Your own cock was so hard again, it was painful, and as if he sensed your discomfort, Bakugou reached around to grab it for you. 

“That’s it,” he purred in your ear, completely covering you with his own body. 

You shuddered at the sensation of his breath on your ear. It was enough to drive you over the edge again, and with a pleased sound, the demon withdrew from you. Both of his hands found their way to you hips, claws digging into your flesh as he picked up his pace, and now that you had been satisfied once more, it was clear that he was chasing his own release.

He was grunting and growling, his tail swishing behind him as he bared his fangs in a nasty snarl. When he finally came, it was with a throaty groan, his head tossed back as he buried himself deep inside of you and filled you up. 

And when he came, he came. It didn’t seem to stop, rope after rope of his thick seed eventually oozing back out around his cock, your lower belly slightly distended as he just kept going. It felt warm, but in a pleasant way, and when he finally pulled back out and caught his breath, you could feel it all spilling down your thighs.

“Well,” he laughed, leaning back on his knees as he looked at you. 

“That was amazing,” you gasped as you collapsed, knees finally giving out. 

He smirked. “Was it, human? I’ll give you a few minutes before round two.”

Your face fell. “Wait, what?”

“You didn’t really think that was it, did you?” he laughed tauntingly. “Oh, no. I like you. I like the taste of you. You give me so much energy...I’m sticking around for a while, human.”

Well...there were probably worse arrangements to be in, right?

[penpatronuswhump]

WHUMPTOBER 2020

No. 4

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Tony Stark

Caregivers: Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers

Title: We’ll Do That Together, Too

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO 

The arms dealers built their camouflaged headquarters into the side of a Rocky Mountain cliff face like they were Pueblo Indians. It was three stories high and a football field and a half wide. The only way to enter the facility was through the camouflaged helipad on top of the mountain. It was guarded heavily, but the cliffside above a raging river wasn’t. And that was why, at Midnight, the Quinjet hovered above the river on autopilot while Thor flew the other five Avengers up to the lowest patio one by one. The weapons the arms dealers were selling to terrorists were supposedly built from Chitauri technology. They had to take the stockpile out and arrest the bad guys that night before anyone else got hurt.

 Steve crouched behind a picnic table on the patio and waited patiently while Clint put arrows into the cameras. Bruce sat beside him, wringing his hands. Thor was on the other side, impatiently twirling his hammer. A perturbed Natasha grabbed his wrist. Her silent glare made him stop. On Steve’s other side, Tony was using his Iron Man suit to scan the base. “We should split up,” he advised. “Each pair can take a floor.”

 Steve agreed. “Barton, Romanoff, go up top. Stark and I will take the center floor. Thor, Bruce, you stick to the basement. Remember – capture the arms dealers and collect all the weapons. Meet back here when your floor is cleared. Let’s do this quick and quiet.” The team went to work. Sticking to the shadows, avoiding the cameras, quiet as possible to not disturb whatever arms dealers were still awake, Clint and Natasha raced up the west staircase. Tony and Steve ascended the east and Thor and Bruce went straight in.

 It was Thor who tripped the first wire. 

An actual wire – not even a laser – crisscrossed the entrance to the cafeteria on the bottom floor. Simultaneously, alarms blared across the entire facility while the bomb exploded in the cafeteria. It was designed to take out the entire first floor and whoever happened to be on it – friend or enemy. Thor, Banner, hundreds of potatoes, the cafeteria, a basketball court, half a dozen bad guys and everything the facility had in storage fell off the cliffside and barreled towards the river. The two Avengers disappeared into the surf.

 On the top floor, though deafened by the sudden alarms and the thunderous sound of the first floor disintegrating, Clint and Natasha still barged into the first room they found, which happened to be security central. Natasha used bullets and bolos to take out and capture the first three men while Clint’s arrows took down the next three. Then, while Clint guarded the door, Nat got into the computer system and cut the power for the entire base. The two remaining floors went quiet and dark. Only a few emergency lights remained on – flashing strobe lights. When security teams arrived, the rest of the base having woken up, they aimed guns at the two Avengers but couldn’t seem to hit them. In the blinks between the strobing lights, Hawkeye and the Black Widow cartwheeled and rolled, shot their weapons with a precision the average arms dealers’ goons didn’t have, and managed, in under ten minutes, to take out all 60 bad guys on the floor. A personal best, they agreed. They enjoyed their victory for half a moment before they went looking for the weapons.

 It was Clint who tripped the second wire. An actual wire – not even a laser – surrounded the wide staircase that led up to the helipad. “Ah, shit,” Clint said, and Natasha sighed, and the bomb under security central exploded. The floor disintegrated. The Avengers didn’t mind, though, because they’d already sprinted up the staircase and out onto the helipad… Where a dozen armed guards were waiting for them.

 The top floor landed on the middle floor – landed on Tony and Steve. Tony, mostly, because when it happened he pushed Cap to the floor and covered his body with the Iron Man armor. When the dust settled, Steve found Tony tented over him, the armor holding up half the ceiling, which threatened to squish them both. “Crawl!” Tony ordered. Cap obeyed, Army-crawling towards the only light he saw. Tony left the armor behind, leaving it to hold the place up while he and Steve escaped. The pair ended up on another patio. Below them was the river. Behind them was the ceiling. Underneath them, the foundation was crumbling. They had, maybe, a minute.

 The pair looked down. The first floor had fallen directly onto the Quinjet, which was in pieces and floating away down the river. There was no sign of Thor or Bruce or the Hulk. Steve examined the distance down to the water. “That might be 200 feet,” he estimated.

 “People have survived dropping from 245 feet into water,” Tony remembered. The floor rumbled. A crack skittered across the concrete. “Of course, they didn’t have a building immediately collapse on them.” The two Avengers looked up, down, and around. Barton and Romanoff were MIA. They had no jet, no Hulk, and the Iron Man armor was half a minute away from crumpling under the weight of the building.

 Steve swallowed, turned to Tony, and held out his hand. “Together?”

Tony took Steve’s hand and held on tight. “Nice knowing you.”

 “Same.”

 “Together, then. On three.” The two men counted at the same time: “One, two, three!” and jumped.

 Barton and Romanoff took out the dozen armed guards almost flawlessly. Nat took a bullet to her upper arm and Clint got stabbed in the thigh when one of his own arrows went askew and ricocheted off the black helicopter. “You never miss!” Nat said as the pair scrambled into the machine. “I brag about that all the time!”

 Clint didn’t bother to put on a safety belt when he got into the pilot’s seat. Under them, the concrete was starting to falter. The helipad was about to collapse along with the rest of the structure. “I’m not perfect!” he yelled over the sound of the propellers revving up.

 “He’s perfect! Why do you think they call him Hawkeye, I’d say,” said Nat from the copilot’s position.

 “I will throw you out of this helicopter!” Barton yelled.

 “If he misses I’ll eat my hand, I’d say.”

 The helicopter lifted into the air less than five seconds before the base collapsed.

 Steve lost Tony’s hand when they hit the water, feet first. He’d tried to hang on – ordered himself to – because if they were going to die, they should die together. They’d done everything else together for so long that it seemed fitting. But, he lost Tony’s hand. He lost him.

 And then Bucky was there. He was pulling him out of the water by his collar just like he had when Steve had fallen out of the Helicarrier. Wait – no – Steve realized. Bucky wasn’t there, and his rescuer was wearing a red cape and carrying a hammer. Thor dragged Steve out of the water and propped him up against the opposite cliff face. “Where are the others?” he asked. The god was soaking wet and he coughed between each word. “Where are they?”

 Steve felt like his lungs were full of sand. All he could do was shake his head and cough. His whole body was one bruise. The water felt like concrete when he landed. “Tony,” he choked. “Where’s Tony?”

 Thor collapsed down to one knee. “I don’t know… I don’t know.”

 A roar came from the east. Both Avengers perked up at the sound of the Hulk. They looked downstream and saw him pulling something out of the water. The dark figure wasn’t moving. Hulk dropped him on the shoreline and took a sniff. Then he leaned back and roared again, the sound shaking the cliffs. Then Hulk looked down at the figure, snorted impatiently, and nudged him with his big green foot. By the time Steve and Thor raced over to Hulk, he’d reverted back into Banner.

 Bruce started CPR on Tony.

 “Uhhh,” Steve groaned, and he collapsed down to an Indian-style sit. “God, Tony…”

 Tony’s left leg was obviously broken. It was bent at the knee, but also slightly at the shin. The sight of it made Steve nauseated. Tony’s face and neck were a cross between bruise-purple and drowned-blue. Something sharp had hit him in the back of the head, and blood was pooling beneath it. Pooling too slowly. His heart wasn’t beating.

 “Dammit!” Bruce hissed as he did compressions. “Dammit, Tony, dammit, come on – come on!” Bruce briefly rolled him over smacked his back, forcing a little bit more water out of Tony’s mouth and nose. He breathed into him, then started up the compressions again. Water rained down on Tony’s face from Bruce’s wet hair.

 “This is unbearable,” Thor whispered. “Wake up, Stark.”

 Steve put his palm on Tony’s forehead and gently rearranged his hair. He flicked aside a sticky rock and a strand of grass. He’d never noticed before, but Tony really did have stress wrinkles and discoloration around his eyes. Of course he did – how could he not? Stark as astounding, Steve realized. What didn’t he do? What hadn’t he done for his team – for the world? Steve suddenly wanted to thank him – wanted him to wake up so he could thank him for – for everything. But Tony’s lungs wouldn’t breathe, and his heart wouldn’t beat…

 Bruce suddenly put his lips right next to Tony’s ear. “You listen to me, you son of a bitch,” he all but shouted. “We need you, Tony. You do NOT get to give up – you don’t have that luxury. The Avengers can’t function without you – this world can’t, anymore. Now breathe, you asshole, breathe!”

 When Tony finally did breathe – another 30 seconds of CPR later – it was a gasping, choking, desperate series of inhales. He rolled and vomited water right into Bruce’s lap, then collapsed back and would’ve passed out again if Steve hadn’t ordered him not to. Tony’s eyes fixated on Steve’s like they were an anchor. “That’s right,” Steve said, encouraging. “You’re going to be all right. We’re here.”

 “Ribs… Broken…” Tony sputtered. The pain pushed tears out of his eyes. “Leg…”

 “I know.” Steve’s hand returned to Tony’s forehead. “We’ll get you out of here, I promise. We’ll get you home.”

 Tony suddenly reached up with both hands and latched onto Steve’s left arm. While Steve clenched his muscles and held his arm steady, Tony, grunting, pulled his upper body right into Steve’s lap. He curled up there, soaking wet, exhausted, pale, and still coughing, and shut his eyes. Steve wrapped both of his strong arms around Tony and held him close.

 A helicopter flew overhead, low enough that they could see Barton piloting it. Nat dropped a steel chain ladder down. Steve and Bruce climbed up it while Thor carried Tony. The Avengers escaped.

 Thor laid Tony down on the bench so that his head was in Steve’s lap and his feet were in Bruce’s. “Hospital, Barton!” Steve ordered the archer. He turned his attention back to Tony, hand on his forehead once more. He remembered what he wanted to say when Tony was dead. “Thank you.”

 Tony’s dazed eyes blinked up at him. “For what” he croaked.

 “Just…” Steve shook his head. He almost laughed. “For you.”

 The End

[bloodys44]

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Decided I should create a space to share my content and interacte with people more :) I love Nalu, and writing about them brings me so much joy, I hope you enjoy my story :3 I have a few more chapter’s published on if you follow the link below :)

Full Story: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

I don't own Fairy Tail. All rights reserved to Hiro Mashima.

Silence and Cigarette Smoke - Prolog: Wings Of A Guardian Dragon

785

Nothing in Lucy Hearfilia's life had ever felt comparable to the excruciating twinge her lungs were currently experiencing. Shuddering in her chest, begging for a sliver of relief. The soles of her feet were raw, split and bloody. No doubt leaving a trail of unforgiving red in her wake. Never had she run so far, the reaper lapping seductively at her heels. The comfort of the town's protective stone walls growing farther with every step, leaving her hopelessly lost in the rather daunting forest crowning the edge of the county. Not that finding her barrings would be worth anything if she couldn't outrun the overly persistent officers shredding apart her shadow. The ferocious sound of metal horse shoe's connecting with the rocky earth eating away at the quiet of the evening. The chances of slipping away from trained men on horseback were less than slim, but she couldn't bring herself to stop pressing her heels against the dirt. The thought of rotting away, hidden under the cold earth was grotesque, to say the least. Death being a frosted window she couldn't peer through, she could only distinguish terror at the uncertainty. Her energy was growing as thin as the forest around her, a murky clearing fast approaching. Panic began to bubble through her chest as she watched the shrubbery dissipate. Her cover in the branches would be lost, they would spot her instantly, thus ending their little game of cat and mouse. The last nail of her coffin, scorching down from the heavens. She supposed she should be grateful that she got as much time as she did, it was only a matter of time until fate would have caught up with her. Only she had hoped for a little longer. Hoping to eventually earn a life worth living, something beyond the aged brick of ally ways and cheaply rented rooms.

The clearing was vast, shades of green mixed with the unusual appearance of sakura trees. It would have been rather breathtaking if she had any oxygen left donate. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as the officers began streaming through the trees and into the void space. Lucy screeched and reared forward, sprinting with the last ounce of her strength. They were fast, encroaching on her like a swarm of starving vultures to prey. Howling with pleasure at the sight of their feast. The unmistakable whip of an arrow snaked by her head, leaving a gash embedded into her left cheek. She whimpered at the sting, swallowing the cry that crept up her throat. Another thwak emits from the taut string of a bow, metal connecting with the flesh of her calf. A piercing shock pulses through her skin, causing her to plummet towards the rocky earth. Her wrist emitting a sickening crack with the ground. She wailed pathetically, pulling her shambled body into more of a sitting position, trying to hold herself together. Her eyes darting towards her leg, assessing the damage. It hadn't pierced through the front of her shin, arrowhead lost somewhere between muscle and bone. Using her good hand she tore the serrated metal from her skin with a revolting squelching sound that split through the vast emptiness. She cried in desperation, holding her injuries as the foul men approached. Five heavily ironclad officers surrounded her, the moonlight glinting off their numerous badges. Their faces all masked by the royal guards' signature helmets. Silver and engraved with the crown's unique seal. The man she assumed to be the captain dismounted his horse first, removing his helmet to reveal a shaggily cut mop of brown hair. His eyes a shade of hideous green that matched the rotting mirth of his teeth. His cracked lips curling into a cruel smirk that succeeded in flipping her stomach. He crouched low, his gaze matching hers before trailing over her figure.

"I believe you owe us some compensation for all the trouble you've caused little Miss." His voice was shrill and dripped with freezing intrigue. "The King has all kinds of folk out searching for you, even after all these years. Really makes a man wonder what makes you so special?" He leaned closer, folding his fingers around the delicate edge of her chin. "A nameless woman with hair that could rival that of real gold. Reminds me a lot of our dearly departed princess." He continued, eyes in a focused search for any reaction she could sprout at his pointed words. "I always found it fascinating that her execution wasn't public like that of her worthless mothers. After all the King's ravings about purging the enchanted blood from the royal line, one might think he would have paraded her corpse as a trophy to pair with his Queen's." Lucy could feel the beat of her heart thrumming against her ribcage, rage at the blatant disrespect for her Mother clouding her judgment. She pulled her lips back in a half-hearted sneer before spitting into his face.

"Queen Layla was the best ruler this kingdom has ever throned, and all of you were so entertained by your sick sense of ethnocentrism you failed to see just how much she truly loved her people." She drawled, keeping the disgusted expression plastered across her features.

His smirk twisted into a gloating rage, eyes sharp in a glare. He reached a leather-gloved hand forward, grasping a thick handful of her golden locks. Lucy wailed as he pulled her forward with a cackle, her face stopping mere inches from his groin. Her bloody leg dragging across the rocks heavily. The other men began to liven up, sick laughter and snide comments filling her ears. She tried to squirm out of his grasp but he overpowered her easily, his laughter building with every shift, growing into hysteria."I suppose spitfire is a good name for you." He leered, tightening his grip around the dirty strands of her hair. "Not many can say they've had their way with a princess, what a lucky day indeed." Another man approached from the side, shooting his heavily booted foot forward to strike the side of her stomach. The air in her lungs slipped past her lips forcefully. She tried to regain her composure but the man wasted no time in continuing his assault, straining forward to tear the remains of her gown away, leaving only her structured slip.

"Oh captain, I hope you plan on sharing." The second man leered, excited eye's bouncing around his skull as he took her figure in. He shoved his gloved fingers between her lips, prying her mouth open as the captain began to unclasp the metal fastening of his uniformed bottoms. Lucy clenched her eyes shut, holding back the bile swarming her throat. This is not how she pictured going out, violated and broken. Hot tears stung the pale skin of her cheek. She tried to clear her mind, focusing on anything but the reality that was about to be forced upon her. The greedy fingers that tore at the skin of her cheek twitched and without a moments thought Lucy bit down with all the force she could muster."You bitch!" The man squealed like a lost child, flinging her head back as he forcibly removed her fingers. She peeled her eyelids back, only to be met with a metal-clad knee connecting with her vision. Only the gods would ever understand how comforting the blackness that melted over her was.

The world she awoke too was nothing like the world she had closed her eyes on. The earth twisted and warped by demanding flames. The once beautiful clearing masked by a thick layer of black smoke, eating away at the sky. All the stars hiding in terror behind the blackness of the galaxy. She couldn't move, frozen in time. Her vision a compilation of stop-motion images. The air around her twisting violently out of lungs reach. There was no pain and despite the conjuring of hell around her, she felt almost content. Letting the earth swallow her. Her head lulled to the side, taking in the remains of the ashy coffin around her. A shadowed figure obstructing her view of the scorched sakura trees. Movement's fluid as he approached her, kneeling at her side. A deep navy cloak washed over his shoulders, a lazily folded hood capped over his collar bones. Her eyes trailed over him, trying to distinguish if he was real or a figment of her dishevelled mind. Lucy had never seen something put together so carefully, so beautifully. His skin was a deep tan that matched nothing of the town's folk she was usually surrounded by. It melted over the sharp features of his face, dripping gracefully under his overly defined jaw. A wash of pink atop his head, blending with the blossoms of the tree line. And god, the most mesmerizing onyx eyes captured her soul, gleaming against the firelight. Eyes that could only be that of an angel, for no human soul would ever be deserving of them. Her fingers shot up, grasping the face above her, a disturbing gasp tearing from her chest. Surely the lack of oxygen was meddling with her mind, but she tried to ignore the thought. Focusing only on the man that was now clumsily stringing her against his chest. His perfectly sculpted lips were moving slowly, whispering against her cheek. She couldn't make out any words, but it was comforting none the less.

"An angel...?" She felt her lips mumble. She truly must be dead, a god sent from the heavens to retrieve her. His chest shuddered underneath her amusingly. Was he laughing her? Her mind working tirelessly to find an explanation for what was tumbling around her. Surely he couldn't be real. No real human had ever been graced by the stars in such a way. She couldn't concentrate, the heaving of her chest far too distracting, as it continued to beg for air. His arms were rigged yet gentle against her frame, holding her securely as he pushed forward through the raging sea of red and orange. His movements were hard to distinguish through her dazed state but she was almost certain the flames were parting for him, leaving an ash-glazed path for them to pass through. She shifted in his arms slightly, causing the man to tense against her. She rested her head against the hard planes of his chest, an uncomfortable pounding working its way to the front of her skull. She let her eyes fawn upwards, trying to concentrate on the focused expression the man was wearing above her. Black was seeping into the sides of her vision and despite her best efforts it was becoming extremely difficult to make out the delicate features of his face. She hummed out an exhale of disappointment eyes shifting upwards, not wanting to retreat into a sleeping state. His neck moved rigidly, sparing a glance down towards her, noting that she seemed too pre-occupied with the sky over his head. And she was, mesmerized by the flames cascading out behind him. Figurative wings blistering against his back. An angel of death carrying her off into the shadows of the night. There was no fear looming through her, her mind simply astonished by the wonderous view before it faded into nothing.

Thanks for reading, Let me know what you think!

[k4nill]

ROTTMNT: Human AU, some design HCs and random HC

@bootyyshaker9000 This is so long i'm so sorry i just gonna make a post about it i don't wanna flow your dms or anything, so I wrote this down in paper and in spanish so forgive me if my english is shitty and it took so damn long, btw HI!!!~ How you doing honey?

My Heart Ache a Lot (cuzhessopreciousicantbrah)

~ My son Mikey I can't let anybody hurt you. (Btw, Leon call him Miguelito). He struggles a little with puberty, mostly with ocasional acne. His brothers constantly remind him of being careful to not get scars from pinching the pimples obsessively.

~ MIXED BRAH U CANT' TELL ME OTHER WISE, 1/2 cups of african-american and 1/2 cups of latino spice and PUFF yOU GOT CINNAMON ROLL THAT COULD ACTUALLY KILL YOU.

~ Cocoa skin (with that yellow undertone, you know?). Thin hair, curly, natural and the most bouncy-est(?) hair, a little above the chin lenght, tied up in a bun when he's busy making art.

~ Button nose, surrounded by some freckles. With really big, almond eyes. His face gets pinkish when it's to damn hot, he's doing to much work or is REALLY angry.

~ I think I gotta bring up how nice his smile is, he got that smile, that shows up just his upper teeth row, the upper lip disappears and it goes way up his cheeks and then it sinks in his dimples. Art.

~ Mikey ain't that young but his height, complexion and even facial features makes him look a lot younger in comparison to his brothers, he could be like 25 and ppl would still think he's in highschool, never aging ppl.

~Had this beautiful dreads, with the tips colored differently once in a while. Now he's growing his hair to have larger dreads, so he can paint em a different color each and have em in high up-do, like a rubberband ball.

~ Mikey would wear every fucking color, get the fuck away with toxic masculinity p l e a s e. Fits anything 10/10. But loves sports clothing (Matching ones are the BEST) he find's it refreshing and really comfy since Miguel is really active, so if he's needs to go usain bolt he GOES OFF and you can imagine sneakers don't last with him. Probably, every single piece of clothing he owns has at least a minor stain from some sort of paint.

~Wears headbands, sometimes really neat designs and then straight out "what the hell is this vomit stain garbage Mikey?" (from Donnie, mostly).

~ Has fake piercings. He's got several in his ears. He wants to have em for real, older brothers just keep telling him that "when he gets older".

Plus: We all know how the turtles are sneaky sneaky, tricky tricky and rad skillyz skillyz being ninjas but in this human AU his brothers got nothing on him like he's flexible as hell, he comes down the stairs like the exorcist bitch or that other bitch on the ring and scares the shit out of Leon and Raph, can touch his calfs with his neck that kind of stuff. And he doesn't run, he travels back to 1955 to save Marty McFly ass.

Leonardo DABinci

~ Not so long ago I made a post about how Leon is a Latino, quote:

"I can clearly see how Leon is totally a Latino. Like: thick wavy hair, with really small monolid eyes, and medium light skin (latinos know what the hell i'm talking about, those kids that get told they have "ojos de chinito" and rock the neapolitan tanning: caramel where the sunlight hits, milky way where it doesn't and pink when it's too much sun for the day) and then Donnie is this asian™ bean, so, sometimes they are mistaken as blood related brothers (Mostly cuz the eyez) and the stripes are the tanning y'all."

~ In addition, recently someone WOKE™ me up and reveled to me as in a prophecy, that Leon is Half-Chilenian, Half-Argentinian.

~ TBH yall, i just want my boy to do his thing and do them Fornite dances while some dope ass cumbias are playing, this is straight up my dream for real.

~Leon got those damn thick eyebrows more than Raph, plucks em to give em shape.

~Has a lot of scars. Leon is very active as Miguel but he is a troublemaker. Got several scars from fights: face, knees, knuckles, arms, legs. And that one time he came running to get his juice, slipped and smashed into the stove glass.

~Has wavy thick hair, keeps the top messy and fluffy and the rest shorter, undercut typo.

~LEON. USES. GLASSES. Period. But don't use em regulary, mainly cuz he's so active and sometimes clumsy and would rather not buy glasses everytime he goes out.

(Donnie, probably): "Leon, why don't you use your glasses? You are making your eyes even smaller trying to read that sign"

(Dumbo): "No, no! que dices weon? I only need the glasses when i'm reading!"

~Loves stripes in his clothing. In any shape and thickness.

~Low-key uses Donnie button up shirts because he does think Donnie looks so well in em, but he's a little more broad than him (Thicc bacc, bicc arms) so he had tear some up, or pop a button or too.

~Guy who would wear anything and don't give a shit if he doesn't have a defined style. One day he's with that graphic tee, flashy bermudas and some sandals and the other day using some jeans, saggy big sweater, a beret and some fine boots.

~ Loves boots more than sneakers. Got good traction with em. But no one can replace las CHANCLAS i'm telling you, he's so comfortable flipping & flopping.

~ He's hairy. Really hairy. Don't shave, except the faice. He's got that baby face and the trace of where the beard could be. It ain't that thick sandpaper beard aftershave tho, Raph taught him the tricks to the silk road.

~Them sideburns tho, neAT-O.

~He ain't got former training, just some random stuff he's learned from Donnie and Raph. Nontheless, he's the trickster and can go dirty on fighting just to save his ass. But sometimes, his big mouth saves his dumb ass from trouble. (2/100 times, the other 98 times it makes it worse)

~Plus: He's into parkour a lot. Takes Mikey out so he can tag some walls uphigh. These trips are the reason he gets in fights more than his other brothers, he's gotta stick out for his brother in case shit goes down, but mostly because he's a loudmouth and sometimes he deserves it cuz he starts the fire tbh.

The thing goes RAP - PHA - PHA

~ Raph, my soft boy. He still BIG™, ain't ripped like a physiculturist, gotta admit, abs are in fact chocolate abs but got a chunky yet funky tone to it. Big ass arms, to strong to carry my depression and smash all my worries.

~ Obviously African-American, I just imagine this warm undertone to his skin. Thick eyebrows (plucks out his unibrow, and nothing more, that natural angled eyebrow perfect as it is).

~ Hairy complexion (but not as hairy as Leo) to pull out a balbo beard, faded to his hair, then starts the faded high top, (not that high tho) with that cotton natural hair (raph is just my dream tbh).

~ My boy rocks denim everything. But got this particular worn off denim jacket he treats like one of his extremities. It's kinda saggy, old, several splashes of god knows what substances... But he wears it like the most precious thing, his brothers got him for his birthday, selling candy bars and other sweet goodies. Made him cry like a bitch.

~ Snaggletooth fang. I got this random HC that Raph got it in a fight with one of his brothers when he was younger. His first tooth after his decidious teeth, he was so happy, finally "maturing" in his words. In his younger years he struggled a LOT with angry issues, (mainly, as the oldest, he understood a little big more about the rejection above the city for mutants, and built up this feeling of despite).

One day, one of his brothers made him really fucking angry, they got in a physical fight, that ended with his crooked fang, but yet, Raph is BIG and he can't measure his strenght sometimes. Then, his brother is crying in pain, screaming how bad can he treat his brother, as if he didn't love them, just as the people above.

He wasn't angry cuz the teeth (cuz he showed it off, like it made him an adult already), he broke down because he was always feeling so damn angry, being the oldest and yet he was beating their younger siblings over some dumb shit and treated them like people in the surface would. Raph is challenged each day, when he sees his face in the mirror, with the tooth projecting outwards as reminder of all the rage he had to let go to protect their brothers, to make a change on his perspective and emotions, to keep their family and himself happy.

I think this mind set change was the thing that settled Raph as a leader. He got stronger, not physicially, but mentally and emocionally, for the sake of his family.

This HC can be translated somehow to the Human AU but i'm not sure the origin of Raph's rage yet.

~ Would wear any shirt that has anything he likes, PLUS if it is in red. He just loves red. He's the only one obvious with their color preference. Red caps, shirts, jackets, pants and tons of sneakers.

~ Likes jeans but loves that kind of bermuda cut shorts and not all the way down pants. He's got some C A L F S with capitals.

~ Luckily, he does wear matching socks. (We can't see Don's most of the time but Raph shows more leg so).

~Wrist wrist wrist wrist wrist wrist. Loves wrist accesories and probably would wrap around anything on his wrist.

~He's got that classic™ Rock Lee from Naruto bandages from training and work out and sometimes he's just to tired to take off the shin pads.

~Don't show em much but got some big ass brass knuckles in his pockets in case someone messes the fuck up with his brothers. (He would easily let go if it was just him, he's a master of templance, but be warned: not with his family)

Plus: Got one tatto, in his back, below the neck, this celtic rune (we know that celtic runes have several meanings, so he took one with various that would fit him) a Gebo, that can mean partnership, generosity and sacrifice.

DONNA TELL EM

~ For starts, Donnie is my asian bean. Creamy pale skin, monolid eyes, with that puffy under eyelid, of course noticeable dark circles, but he got that EYESMILE BOI. (You know that people who kept straight face but the eyes are just screaming happiness??? That kind of eyesmile)

~ Hair black, thin, straight cut (his hair is kinda wavy) at his shoulder's lenght, got that fade styling in the back tho, usually wrapped in a high ponytail/bun. (Mikey loves to mess with his hair).

~ He's got that thin eyebrow hair, so, he fills em up to make them thicker, so gives him more of an assertive feature. (Also he is jealous of Leo and Raph eyebrows, nontheless edge so sharp to cut a bitch) Got that hairless complexion so not much about facial hair.

~ Obviously keeps them THIGHS™. (So far, to me their complexion on the show is the same as in the human AU so... ) Jeans were invented to the sole purpose to fit Donnie so well.

~To wear, jeans are a go to, but damn sweatpants comfy AF. Big old sweatshirts, swearters and hoodies. Underneat, digs button shirts, short or long, never with flashy prints, yet some minor deco, (to him is all in the elegance....). Raph and Donnie share an interest on sneakers, so he can wear like 1 hoodie for 10 days straight but a different sneaker each.

~But wears missmatched socks like the fuck out of here BOI, looking neat and clean and you come out with this yeeyee ass bullshit.

~ Donnie hides the fact that he's riPPED under the hoodies and sweatpants often, (he's tall as shit and his brothers calling him spagethi bOI don't help much) so people make the assumption he's the weakest of his brothers. He's the only graduated on black belt on Karate and knows his shit on MMA. On his younger years he was indeed saved many times by Raph's strenght, Mikey's swiftyness and Leon's cunning. This "being the weak" complex got to his head and started training solo. His brothers are amazed of Donnie's self-improvement and he often disguises it as the "i did it so i wouldnt be the weakest, you better watch out when i supass yall" but they all know he suffered inmensely seeing his brothers hurt because of him, so if they go down he does too, to protect them.

Plus: Complementary headphones with neon designs, blasting nightcore, dubstep and DnB songs with every Donnie purchased.

BG:

In my AU, these kids grew up really poor. They learned the value of hardwork since they were really young. Like in the Teetle Universe, people see them as misfits. Especially, because they are a "patched up family" (they are not blood related) and being looked down by the economic factor, mostly.

They got some real internal issues. But, the only thing that keeps them sane is how tight their brotherhood is.

Donnie and Raph have a job and go to college. Struggle a lot with their younger siblings rebellious stage.

Leon and Mikey go to highschool and do some baked goodies or art comissions to have some sort of income. Ain't fond of school that much, real troublemakers.

April it's a freshman in college and has much more accomodated life, but somehow, she's always felt she doesn't belong to anywhere, until she meet our boys. April learns a lot of life hardships while hanging out with em.

This would be, basically the series:

April meets this guys, this is sort of a slice of life anime, with lots of comedy and fun shots, however it develops around April learning valuable lessons that will help her as an adult, about friendship, loyalty, respect, empathy and kindness, after all the things the boys are going through.

I'm not sure how am I gonna accomodate Splinter in this, but eventually I'll figure it out.

I'm not got at drawing but i'm gonna try to make some of their designs.

[drandrewstherapeuticblogs]

How is kinesiology tape better than a knee brace?

Kinesiology tape and knee supports are the two instruments that can be utilized to offer help and dependability to the knee joint, yet they have a few key differences.

Kinesiology tape for pain in the knee is a slender, stretchy, versatile cotton strip with a glue backing that is applied straightforwardly to the skin over the impacted region. The tape is intended to offer help and strength to the muscles and joints while not taking into consideration a full scope of movement. It works by lifting the skin and making space between the skin and hidden tissues, which can assist with diminishing strain and agony in the impacted region. Kinesiology tape is likewise used to further develop flow and advance mending.

Then again, a knee support is an unbending or semi-inflexible gadget that is worn around the knee joint to offer help and dependability. Knee supports arrive in different styles and can be produced using a scope of materials, including neoprene, metal, and plastic. They are intended to restrict the development of the knee joint and offer extra help to the muscles and tendons around the knee.

The decision between kinesiology tape and a knee support will depend upon the individual's particular requirements and the nature of their knee injury. As a rule, kinesiology tape might be a superior decision for individuals who need more adaptable, lightweight help that considers a full scope of movement. It can likewise be a decent choice for individuals with delicate skin or sensitivities, as it is produced using hypoallergenic materials. Knee supports might be more suitable for individuals with more serious knee wounds or precariousness, as they provide more unbending, organized help. Eventually, the decision between kinesiology tape and a knee support ought to be made in consultation with a medical professional who can assess the patient's necessities and suggest the most appropriate therapy.

[jashasedai]

Tame AU: Pose

Author’s Notes:

After the Racing Drivers are freed, they take their match’s last names.  

Pose

Alternate Universe- Tame Racing Drivers

http://jashasedai.tumblr.com/post/151392469153/summary-au-tame-racing-drivers

Fandom- Formula E, Formula 1, Motocross, MotoGP, WEC, Indycar

After they are freed, Andre Lotterer’s Merlin, and Stoffel Vandoorne’s Seven have both taken up photography as a hobby.   They decide to showcase the things Racing Drivers have always kept hidden

Tags: Formula E, Formula 1, Motocross, MotoGP, WEC, Indycar, AU Tame Racing Drivers, Alternate Universe, slavery, abuse, scars, tattoos

Other featured characters

Ricky Carmichael’s Ratchet(NASCAR driver, most winning motocross/supercross rider of all time, 25x champion(most winning RD/RR of all time)

Mark Webber’s Rabbit(Formula 1, WEC Champion)

Max Chilton’s Freeza(Formula 1, WEC, Indycar) and Alexander Rossi’s Xerxes(Formula 1, Indycar)

Niki Lauda’s Grad(Formula 1 3x Champion)

Dani Pedrosa’s Duende(MotoGP)

Alain Prost’s Professor(Formula 1 3x Champion)

Maria de Villota’s Lucir(Formula 1)

Jean-Eric Vergne’s Jev(Formula 1, Formula E Champion), Jenson Button’s Sugarboy(Formula 1 Champion), Nico Hulkenberg’s Hulk(Formula 1), Paul di Resta’s Sweep(Formula 1)

Michael Schumacher’s Shoe(Formula 1 7xChampion)

Story is under the break

Pose

2019

Merlin Lotterer tapped his fingers on the desk and stood up.  [I will call the journalists.  I will speak with the woman at the magazine.  I want to do it.]

Andre didn’t like the idea.  He could see that.

It made him feel afraid.

It made him feel hurt.

[You do not have to help me.]

Andre cringed.  [I do not want to....]  He looked down into the coffee mug in his hand.

Merlin smiled at him and rested his fingertips on Andre’s shoulder.  [It is alright.  You do not have to.]

Andre nodded.

--

Seven Vandoorne clutched his stonework mug in both hands.  There was mist coming off of the water.  He was wrapped in a warm knit blanket.  The coffee steamed.  A long way off, a waterbird called.

[Will you do a self portrait?  Of you, this time, not of me?] Stoffel asked.

One side of Seven’s mouth curled up.

He nodded.

--

[What kind of pose do you feel comfortable with?] Seven asked.

Ratchet Carmichael held his elbows to his sides and shrugged.  He wasn’t really looking at Seven, he was looking off set, where Ricky was standing.

[Maybe this would be easier if it were just us,] Seven suggested.

Ratchet didn’t move.

His match took the hint.  He picked up his jacket.  [I will be outside when you’re ready, bud.]  Seven waited until the studio door clicked closed.

The atmosphere became less tense.

[Maybe we can just start with some…]

Ratchet had turned around.  He was yarding his shirt up over his back.  The neon green came up off the dark cloth of his pants, exposing pale pink skin, sprinkled with orange freckles.  Except for the deep, white, rigid scars that criss crossed his back from his ribs to just below his shoulders.

He dropped the green jersey on the ground and dropped to his knees.  The toes of one bare foot touching the pad of the other.

He laced his fingers behind his neck, and drew them up the back of his head, until they were clear of the faded black barcode in the shaved smooth patch behind his right ear.  He pulled his head down, with his hands, so only a little of the red orange hair was visible above his fingers.

His back arched, like he was in agony.

‘Can you show me like this?’

Seven took the picture.

--

[Are you ready?] Merlin asked.

Mark Webber squeezed Rabbit’s hand again and stepped out of the shot.

Merlin took his time adjusting the light properly, so it did not reflect off the X Ray sheet.  Rabbit’s shirt was a little lighter than true Dark Blue, but it looked wonderful through the viewfinder, against the rich grey background and the black and white of the X Ray.

[Look into the camera, good.  Now look at the tape on the floor.  Think about when this happened.]

Rabbit’s face twisted from it’s usual statuesque calm, into a wide mouthed grimace.  His eyes clenched shut.

The tendons in his neck stood out, like he was screaming.  The shaved skin behind his ear tensed.  His whole body tensed.

[I HATE THIS!]

His hand clenched tight around the X Ray, white lines shining across the black background and pale grey of his bones, where the medic had wired the teenage stallion’s broken jaw shut.

Merlin took the picture.

--

[It is alright.  Be proud.]  The White mare, Freeza Chilton, coaxed the stallion.

Xerxes Rossi tugged his black t-shirt lower, though his black shorts were perfectly decent, covering his legs to mid thigh.

[Put your right hand on my right shoulder,] She told him, [And your left arm around me, with your left hand just below the right.]

It was strange, sending all his instructions through her, but Seven was having no luck getting Xerxes to pay attention to his directions long enough to get posed.  ‘Please ask him to move his leg farther to the side, so I can see his full tattoo,’ He sent to Freeza.

‘Now straighten your back and tighten your belly.’

She followed his direction.

‘This couch is tickling me,’ Xerxes commented, moving out of position to touch the antique velvet.

Freeza revved and he moved back into place.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, his mutilated hands still scarred, even after the surgeries that had been done to repair them.  He sat behind her, with his right foot flat on the floor, left leg up on the couch with his ankle under his right knee, leaning forward against her back. His shorts displayed the tattoo over his right thigh.  She sat against his shin, back straight, her knees together and her hands on them, framing the cesarean scar across her lower abdomen, visible between the white crop top and the white yoga pants she wore.

They sat sidelong to the couch, facing the wall to Seven’s right.

The final picture would be black and white, except for the pink of her scar, and the scarlet and green of his tattoo.

Their barcodes were starkly visible.

[Now look at me,] Seven instructed.

Both of them turned vivid eyes on him.  They would remain colourless.

Seven took the picture.

--

The couch Merlin chose was modern.  White.  With sharp lines.  It looked like something Andre would have in his home.  Unembellished.  Efficient.

Merlin thought it looked uncomfortable.

He thought it looked like a stable felt.

[Do we sit here?] Niki Lauda asked.

[Yes, please,] Merlin said.  [Grad to my left.  Niki to my right.]

They sat.

[I would like to take several pictures.  I would like Grad to look towards that wall.]  He pointed at the wall beyond Niki.  [Niki, please look at the wall behind the camera.]

Niki looked towards him.  He had bright blue eyes.

Grad broke into a grin.  The laugh wrinkles around his eyes, green without the contact lenses, distorted when they reached his scar.  He had no barcode anymore, though a dark smudge showed where a corner had been.

[When you are comfortable, please take off the hat, Niki,] Merlin said.

He looked sideways at his partner, with whom he’d shared his whole life, and took the red baseball cap off his head.

Grad giggled again.

Niki’s face broke into a wide smile as well.

Merlin took the picture.

--

[Do they hurt you?] Seven asked.

[Yes,] Duende Pedrosa answered.  [The losses hurt more, though.]  He grinned.

Seven looked down at the little Rider stallion’s frame, covered in only a tight pair of rust orange shorts.  His tan muscles were interrupted by pink, puckered lines at every large joint.

He turned his head so his barcode was apparent, and raised his arms in the classic bodybuilder’s pose, flexing, so his heavily muscled body looked as hard as the farings of his motorcycles.

[I am too strong for pain to stop me.]

Seven took the picture.

--

[I want you to tell me about that day,] Merlin said.

Professor Prost looked down at the black and white photographs on the table in front of him.

They looked like pictures of war.

Hallways, littered with bodies.

[When we woke up, it seemed just to be morning,] The old stallion, said, [We did our routines.  No one knew it would be anything different.]

He told the story of the day.

[Then Alain came, and we all went outside,  I left them.]  He ran his hand into his curly, thinning, hair.  It exposed the barcode he still wore hidden.

Tears dripped onto the photos.

A loss deeper than any physical amputation.

Merlin took the picture.

--

[Are you sure you want me?  I am not...important…]  The blonde mare’s hair was beginning to grow out after her confinement.  Her health hadn’t fully returned.  

[None of us were treated like we were important,] The older mare told her.  [This is something that should be seen.]  She smiled a sad smile.  She brushed her hand through the other mare’s hair.

The hair had grown unevenly around her scar, but Lucir was certain she wanted it cut, to show the scar better for the photoshoot.  Ochre, the Yellow mare who had come along to support her, trimmed the hair with scissors.  

She was careful to keep the cut strands from catching on the scar that continued down Lucir’s scalp, over her forehead, across the warped skin where her right eye had been, and back across her cheek.   It fell, so blonde it was nearly white, onto the hairdresser’s plastic cape and slid off onto the floor.  She brushed the hair off, and wiped with a damp cloth.  She removed the cape, letting the rest of the hair fall, unheeded onto the floor.  She moved off the set.

Lucir hunched on top of the barchair where she’d been given the haircut, with her bare heels hooked on the highest rung.

Seven examined the scene through the viewfinder.  The mare looked scared, cold, exposed.

[The paper,] He said, as he realized she wasn’t holding it.

Ochre brought the paper and handed it to Lucir.

[Look to your left, please,] Seven said.

He made certain both her barcode and scarred eye were clear.

He let the camera focus, and made sure the words on the paper were clear.  They were small, but the larger letters across the top, Certificate of Death, and the name of Lucir’s match would be legible to anyone who saw the full page photo.

[This is going to hurt,] Seven said, [But we want to show your emotion.]

Lucir de Villota nodded, unlocked her jaw, and got ready.

[What did you feel, when the handlers told you Maria was found dead, Lucir?]

The mare’s grind of agony expressed itself in her whole body.

Seven took the picture.

--

[Did I look that way?] Jev Vergne asked Jean-Eric.

Jean-Eric frowned and nodded.

They stood inspecting the large photograph projected onto the back wall of the set.

The picture was from the investigation FIA had done, after Jev had blacked out from hunger and fatigue on the weekend of a Grand Prix.

It showed a stallion, skinny beyond recognition, muscular, but with barely enough body fat to survive.  Beside it, sized to match, was another, and 3 more after that.

In the studio, Rabbit Webber was standing beside the snack table, one arm crossed and the other holding up a plastic cup.  Sugarboy Button was filling up a plate with ham spirals.

Hulkie Hulkenberg and Sweep di Resta were standing in the corner, whispering. 

Of all of them, the change in Sugarboy was most dramatic.  The younger stallions in the pictures from 2013 and 2014 looked emaciated.  Sugarboy and Rabbit looked lean and stringy.  Now Sugarboy looked like Hulkie’s namesake.  He was muscled like a healthy tiger.  Of all the pictures, Sweeps was the saddest.  The naturally tall, blade thin stallion looked skeletal.  He was pale.  His ribs were showing.  His stomach didn’t look trim, it looked empty.

Now Sweep was a fit young stallion, they all were.

[Everyone please get in line,] Merlin called.

The stallions lined up in front of their before pictures.

[Everyone smile,] He said.

The group of well fed stallions smiled.

Merlin took the picture.

--

‘I will not let you fall,’ Seven sent.  He scooted closer, keeping a firm arm around the older stallion’s ribs to keep him steady.  The soft comforter he’d laid on the carpet, to protect the stallion’s skin from any rubbing on the unpleasant surface, was becoming disarrayed, but he couldn’t move to fix it.

The camera was set up on a tripod, with the viewfinder pointed towards them.

Shoe Schumacher sent a feeling of amusement.  ‘I trust you.’  He felt relaxed in Seven’s arms.

Seven had thought through a few positions, but decided that the best one was with Shoe facing mostly away from the camera, but not so far that his face could not be seen.  He had to lay up against Seven’s chest to do this, his legs stretched out behind him, towards the camera, their depleted muscle looking unnaturally thin in the foreshortening.

They looked at each other, face to face.

The low cut shirt Shoe was wearing revealed the star shaped scar at the back of his neck, where the handlers had punctured his spinal column.  His thinning hair stopped short at the place where his barcode had been burned off, leaving a pale scar and no evidence that he was who he was.

The scar on Seven’s jawline shone white in the light he had chosen.

The mirror behind them reflected the scars that ran just to one side of Seven’s barcode, up behind his ears.  The caption of the picture would explain the paralysis, and the numerous surgeries Seven had gone through, to change his face from matching Michael’s son, to matching Stoffel Vandoorne.

He smiled at Shoe.

Shoe looked determined.

Seven took the picture.

--

Andre examined the article.

Hidden Wounds: The stories behind the scars of the Stigs you know and love.

Duende’s flexing was an excellent cover photo.  His career had been notorious for injuries, and he looked triumphant.

Seven Vandoorne’s photographs were primarily black and white.  The one with the Indycar mare and stallion, and the slight touch of color was very moving.

Merlin’s pictures were in color, and made more use of background and props.  Andre’s heart caught at the picture of Maria de Villota’s mare.  He remembered that crash, vividly.  Most of the matches assumed the Racing Driver couldn’t have survived, that Maria’s passing was in response to sadness.

The loss of a match perfectly encapsulated what Merlin had told Andre he wanted to show everyone with this series of pictures.  Seven had focused mainly on scars that the public had not been aware of, but Merlin showed the heartbreak of growing up as a Racer, up against impossible odds.  Losing things that humans could only barely comprehend.

That was what he was showing, here.

Then Andre came to the two page spread.

The paralysed stallion, and the stallion denied his chance to ever be one.

[It was a team effort,] Merlin said.

Andre looked up with tears in his eyes.  [I am so sorry you all had to endure this.]

He opened his arms.

Merlin took comfort in them.

--

[This is your best work,] Stoffel said, closing the magazine.  He set it on the table beside his patio chair.  [I am SO proud of you.]

Seven turned from the summer sun setting over the lake.

He stepped away from the rail, and settled on his knees, between Stoffel’s feet.  [I did it for you.]

Stoffel smiled.  The smile for when he was uncertain.

[I wanted you to understand.]

The uncertainty went away.

‘Thank you.’

Seven laid his head on Stoffel’s knee.  ‘I love you, and I just want us to be together.  I want to be matched with you.  I am glad I am matched with you.  Those stallions Merlin showed when they were hungry, they are better, now.’  He lifted his head.  ‘I am better, with you.’

Stoffel got down on the deck with Seven.  He hugged his Stig.  ‘I love you.’

Seven took comfort in this.

[healthspiritbody]

6 Of The Most Important Acupressure Points for Gas and Bloating

Gas and bloating are uncomfortable digestive symptoms that everyone experiences. Unfortunately, for people with sensitive stomachs, these issues may appear more frequently and require treatment.

Acupressure is a traditional Chinese medicine that’s believed to be effective for gas, stomach bloating, and pain. It can also help with other conditions like constipation or backache!

We explore whether acupressure is beneficial for the digestive system, and how to use acupressure points for gas and bloating.

Stimulating the following acupressure points through massage therapy.

1. Stomach Points

Location: They are located on the middle lines of the body, the first one is just above the navel (Center of Energy), and the other one is a few centimeters below it (Sea of Energy).

In order to treat gas issues, you should press these points on the stomach. This will reduce abdominal contraction and soothe heartburn in addition to reducing emotional stress and soothing lower back pain. You can also use this treatment regularly for the best results!

2. Lower Back Points

Location: The acupressure points for gas on the lower back are four, located around the waistline, on the lower body side. They are also known as the Sea of Vitality.

Laying on your stomach, you can press these points to relieve abdominal pain and gas. If you have a weak back, avoid this exercise because it could worsen the condition.

3. Hand Points

Location: They can be found on the inside of the wrists, and are also known as Inner Gate Point.

Apply pressure on these points to relieve nausea, pain in the stomach and improve digestion.

4. Leg Three Miles

Location: These points are otherwise known as Zu San Li, or ‘leg three miles’, referring to the power of these points to provide energy for a 3-mile walk. In order to locate this point, you should bend the leg a bit and place 4 fingers below your kneecap. Start with the index finger at the base of your knee cap while keeping the other 3 fingers directly under it. The point is located on the outer side of the shin bone in the small crevice between the little finger and foot just before the joint line.

The pressure of this point will provide you with high levels of energy, relieve gas bloating and nausea, improve digestion. It also strengthens your immune system to fight against other digestive disorders like constipation or diarrhea!

5. Points On Feet

Location: There are 2 essential shiatsu acupressure points for gas on the feet. Cross the ankle over the knee, and find them with the thumb. One is on the top of the arch, a finger’s width away from the foot’s ball, and the other is where the bones of the second and big toe meet on the foot’s top.

Press the first point for a minute in order to calm your stomach, reduce gas and bloating, as well as stimulate circulation. You can press the other one too if you are feeling extra bloated!

6. Three Yin Crossing

Location: You can find this point around 3- finger-widths above the bone of the inner ankle.

Press this point in order to treat all lower abdomen issues- including colitis, flatulence, and abdominal distention. 

Are there downsides to acupressure points for gas and bloating?

Acupressure can be a great way to relax and heal the body, but it’s important that you speak with your doctor beforehand if you have any health conditions. When you self-treat with acupressure, use moderate pressure on the skin. If using too much force, particularly in sensitive areas of your body, can cause pain or bruise – among other symptoms.

Acupressure has thousands of years of use for a variety of health conditions, including gas, bloating, and other digestive issues. There are almost 30 points on the body that could help improve digestion, reduce abdominal pain, and more. If you’re interested in trying acupressure for uncomfortable gastrointestinal symptoms, visit a doctor to learn more about how to incorporate this therapy into your treatment.

6 Of The Most Important Acupressure Points for Gas and Bloating was originally published on Health Spirit Body

[littlemissheartfilia]

Survive Ch 4

Hope you guys are liking this so far! In this chapter stuff starts to get really bad for maknae line! 

Part(s): [1]  [2]   [3]   [4]

Summary: Bangtan is heading westbound on a brand new private jet when things go haywire. No one could have expected the storm to be this bad. And certainly no one would have guessed they’d be crash landed in the mountains of China fighting for their lives.

Pairing(s): Taekook, Yoomin

Setting: Real world I guess?

Jimin couldn’t tell where he was but he was certain there was someone beside him. The hand gripping his gave him a solid grounding, even when his head felt like it was swimming in oblivion. The pain in his leg was growing worse, travelling up past his shin and all the way into his thigh. Everything hurt. He wasn’t sure what was real life or a dream anymore but that hand was always there for him to squeeze.

When he thought he came out of unconsciousness he squeezed it for reassurance. Much to his delight it squeezed back and soft words were whispered into his ear. “I’m right here, Jiminie…” the voice sounded warbled at first, distant and strange. As if his brain knew it was familiar but couldn’t quite place who it belonged to. “I’m right here,” the voice continued and he felt a small hand brush away part of his bangs. Now the voice didn’t sound so strange and he knew it was Yoongi.

His head leaned into the hand grateful for the cold touch. He knew they had been in a cold place but all he felt was heat. Suffocating, body draining heat. His fingers twitched underneath the blanket and he tried to mumble out a sentence. Something happened on the way from his brain to his mouth and he only managed an exhausted moan.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Yoongi said, his cold hand turning over to press even colder knuckles to his forehead.

“Too hot,” Jimin tried to mutter but what he ended up saying was “T’ ho-” and his hand reached up under the blanket to push it off.

Yoongi shushed him and took his hand instead. “No, Jiminie, you have to keep the blanket on, it’s freezing out.”

Jimin moaned in protest once more but it seemed he was finally able to lift open his eyes. He misjudged how bright the sight of snow was. Looking toward the entrance was too bright and it burned his eyes so he tried to focus on Yoongi’s silhouette instead. His lips were pulled thin, his eyes crinkled with worry and the tip of his nose twitched slightly, like it always did when he was upset about something.

“Hyung,” Jimin finally managed to utter a full word and Yoongi almost seemed proud as he shifted on his feet and smiled worryingly at Jimin. Now that wind passed through his vocal chords he realized just how chapped and dry his mouth was. His lips felt like they were molten lava, ready to break apart into tiny continents of rocks.

“Talk to me Jimin, what do you need?” Yoongi asked, bringing their clasped hands up to his chest as he leaned over Jimin’s bed. His voice was uncharacteristically smooth and soft. He didn’t think he’d ever heard his hyung talk that way to anyone but he was glad it was directed at him now.

“Wa-” Jimin tried to speak but a fit of coughs took him. “Water,” he croaked out and Yoongi was instantly turning around. He couldn’t see much but he could tell that Yoongi was talking to someone else around the corner of the bed. Within seconds Yoongi came back to him with a half-crumpled half-dirtied bottle of water.

Twisting the cap off Yoongi held the edge up to his lips. Gently the water lapped at Jimin’s chapped lips and he sucked it down gratefully. As he drank Yoongi turned to look over his shoulder.

“How’s that fire coming?” he called to someone behind him. Jimin pushed the water bottle away with his hand and felt himself starting to come back to life.

It was Jungkook’s voice that answered. “It’s not staying for long. We need actual wood.”

Yoongi, with a quick worried glance at Jimin limped over to Jungkook hurriedly, “I’ll go get more, use this in the meantime,” he said spilling the contents of one of their luggage bags, just a lot of clothes and some books tumbled out.

Yoongi turned back to Jimin then apologetically. “Sorry Jiminie, we have to stay warm. I’ll buy you all new things when we get home.”

Jimin hardly cared where the warmth came from. He knew they all needed it even if his body was burning up. He shook his head noncommittally. “‘S fine,” he mumbled and found it hard to keep his eyes open for much longer.

Jimin’s eyes failed to respond to him but he was still awake. He could hear the voices of Yoongi, Jungkook and Taehyung from close beside him. Although his brain could barely process their conversation he caught a small portion of it.

“I need your lighter again, hyung?” Jungkook asked.

“Hold it like this,” came Yoongi’s muffled reply.

“Hyung, I don’t know why you have a lighter but I’m so glad you do.” This was Taehyung.

“Manager-hyung let me keep it from our Love Yourself highlight reel. I never thought I’d need it though.”

Then there was a shuffling of feet and a grunt of effort from Yoongi. “Hyung, where are you going?” Jungkook’s voice was surprisingly sharp, especially from a maknae to his elder.

“We need firewood.”

“Don’t strain your leg. I’ll go.” Jungkook offered and Jimin could tell Yoongi didn’t like the idea. But in the end he gave up with a dissatisfied sigh and it was Jungkook’s steady footsteps that carried out of the plane.

Jimin tried to open his eyes once more. He tried as hard as he could to sit up, to move his legs or do anything but his body wasn’t responding. The most he could do was turn his head from side to side but the action made him feel like he was swimming in jello.

It wasn’t long after that sleep beckoned to him once more and he slipped into unconsciousness.

“Hyung!” Namjoon called out to the whiteness all around him, but he knew his hyungs were nearby. He took a few steps forward, Jin and Hoseok quickly catching up to him.

“What is it?” Jin asked, looking at Namjoon who merely pointed a little ways ahead of him.

“More luggage that survived the crash?” Namjoon said as they all stared at the small strap of black hanging from an upturned branch in the snow. If it weren’t for the strap clinging to the branch that reached upward they would have never seen it. The rest of the bag was already covered in snow but they easily dug it out.

“Who’s is it?” Hoseok asked as Jin broke open the zipper with shivering hands. Piled on top they found a very expensive camera bag, a lot of warm clothes underneath it all and various candy bars hidden in the side pockets.

The three looked at each other and confirmed at the same time, “Taehyung’s.”

Pushing the camera aside Namjoon lifted one of his sweatshirts. “Who’s Tae’s size, Hobi-hyung?” He handed the sweatshirt to Hoseok who swiftly put it on over his other clothes.

Jin made a sound of delight as he pulled out two pairs of gloves and a hat. “Tae packs smart,” he said handing out the gloves and keeping the hat. Namjoon swung his makeshift sack off his shoulder and stuffed the candy bars inside. Something in his pack jogged his memory then, and he tapped the arms of both his hyungs.

“O-Oh! I almost forgot,” he opened up the sack and pulled out a length of rope all curled together. “I found this in the box with all the emergency blankets. We should use it to stay together.” The wind picked up and Namjoon had to raise his voice to be heard. But it seemed the others heard him anyway as they both nodded in agreement.

Namjoon began to unwrap the rope, Jin quickly grabbed an end and tied it around Hoseok, then himself, making sure he gave it some slack. Lastly Jin tied the rope around Namjoon’s waist as well. After making sure the knotting was secure the trio zipped Taehyung’s bag closed once more and made their way through knee deep snow banks.

They soon found that the plane hadn’t just crash landed on a hill, it had crashed close to the top of a mountain. And everything below them was steep cliffs, the occasional pine tree sprouting up from the ground. In some places the trees were nearly parallel to the earth they rested on. It gave Namjoon vertigo just looking at it. So he tried not to.

“It just goes on forever…” Hoseok remarked a look of despair on his face. There wasn’t much they could see besides snow. The storm had mostly cleared up but there was a low hanging mist that surrounded everything on the mountain.

“We’ll have to go down if we want to get a better look of what’s around,” Namjoon said, curling his fingers over the sack tighter.

Jin turned to them then his face all serious. “Watch your footing and don’t move without each other.”

Namjoon and Hoseok nodded grimly then Jin began to take the lead. They took a path that seemed not as steep as the rest of the mountain, thankfully those scattered pine trees were around for them to hold onto.

“Be careful!” Jin called out again his voice raising above the roar of the wind. Namjoon looked behind him at Hoseok. The older boy was doing his best to keep his feet from slipping on the steep snowbank and his good arm desperately grabbed at every tree or branch in his reach.

“Hoseok-” Namjoon said and offered the boy his hand when Jin and him took a small jump down a sizable boulder. Gratefully Hoseok took Namjoon’s hand and let his feet surf the slush and snow down the boulder.

When Hoseok hit the bottom however his momentum kept him going and he slipped over his own two feet. Namjoon watched in horror as Hoseok’s body kept going, his broken arm falling uselessly with the rest of him, past the boulder and teetering on the edge of an overhang. Namjoon’s hand squeezed Hoseok’s harder and tried to pull but his weight was already falling down.

Jin cried out but both of them were too late as Hoseok slammed into the side of the overhang, hitting Namjoon’s hand against a rock at the same time. A fiery pain shot up his forearm as Hoseok’s weight dragged Namjoon to his knees.

“Pull him up!” Jin yelled already trying to get closer to the edge so he could grab any part of Hoseok. Namjoon reached out with his other hand but the thin cloth gloves they wore didn’t bare enough traction. Before Jin or Namjoon’s other hand could reach him Hoseok’s hand slipped out of his grip and he fell to the length of the rope tying them together. At the same time Namjoon’s torso was ripped toward the ground and he lost his breath.

It was now all he could do to keep his body on firm ground as Hoseok dangled over a hundred foot drop, his body twisting and turning in vain, all the while slight squeals of discomfort leaving his mouth.

Hoseok looked up at them helplessly. His good hand grabbed at the rope but he was still swinging and turning. Thankfully Jin managed to take hold of the rope and with Namjoon’s help they hauled Hoseok’s full weight back up. When he was close enough his good arm swung over the edge of the overhang and they were able to grab under his arms until he was safely on solid ground again.

Hoseok flopped onto his back, panting and squeezed his eyes shut. Jin and Namjoon sat down in the wet snow breathing heavily. Much to Namjoon’s surprise Jin started chuckling. Hoseok looked over at him, something close to disgust on his face but Jin just slapped his shoulder and said, “You should lose some weight.”

Namjoon almost smiled as Hoseok retorted, “I guarantee you weigh more than me. Your shoulders give you ten extra pounds.”

Jin looked off into the distance of the overhang a smile still lighting up his face somehow. “Ah! What a thing to say to your hyung.”

“You started it,” Hoseok mumbled.

Jin just cast Namjoon a look like a child to its mother looking for support. Namjoon just shrugged. “You did start it.”

Jin just shook his head and let his smile slowly fade. He turned to offer his hand to help Hoseok up. When they both stood Namjoon picked his tired muscles off the ground with much effort. Jin’s hand rested on Hoseok’s back and he said, “Let’s keep going. No more slipping, yeah?”

Jungkook tucked a rather large snowy branch under his arm with the others. He was carrying about as much as he could. Although the wood was snowed on, mossy and wet they didn’t have many options in their terrain. He took a few deep steps back toward the plane still in sight past the trees. The snow had deepened since last night and it fought against him, sinking into the tiny crevices by the tops of his shoes and up into his skinny jeans.

The shelter was only yards away when he heard a panicked voice scream, “TAE!” Jungkook looked up terrified. He didn’t waste any time as he dropped the wood and scrambled over knee deep snow to get inside.

Yoongi’s voice kept coming in terrified waves, shouting Taehyung’s name. When Jungkook finally managed to move aside the tarps and quite literally fall inside his heart dropped.

Taehyung was on the ground, very close to the fire that was burning out. Yoongi was above him holding his head and shouting his name. Although he was on the ground he wasn’t still. Taehyung’s legs were jerking and his muscles seemed to be convulsing at random patterns. When Jungkook clambered inside Yoongi turned desperate eyes to him.

“He just collapsed!” Yoongi burst out then tried to get Taehyung’s attention again but it went in vain. Jungkook had heard about seizures. A distant aunt in his family used to get them, he once had to help her out of the house on a Christmas dinner gone wrong so he knew what one looked like.

Jungkook ran over and shooed Yoongi off Taehyung with a nervous hand. Taehyung was still convulsing as Jungkook turned him on his side and lifted his head. “Don’t touch him…” Jungkook warned, his worried eyes never once leaving Taehyung’s face.

Yoongi got up and ran shaking fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath and pacing as he did. It was only a few seconds later but to Jungkook it felt like minutes. Eventually Taehyung stopped convulsing but his eyes remained closed. This was when Jungkook grabbed a hold of Taehyung’s shoulder and leaned forward. “Tae?” he called, panic in his voice now. “Tae, please wake up!” Jungkook knew he shouldn’t have but his hand shook Taehyung’s shoulder a little. At the sudden movement Taehyung’s eyes seemed to flutter but they were unfocused and parts of his eyelids were still twitching.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi called gently, kneeling down next to Jungkook. “Tell us how you feel?”

The more he came to the more Taehyung seemed to take in. At first he was only staring straight ahead then his eyes came into focus and he glanced from Jungkook to Yoongi and back again.

“What-” he began to say.

“You had a seizure, Taehyung,” Jungkook said, reaching for Taehyung’s hand without breaking eye contact. Taehyung must have guessed his boyfriends worry once he used the full name. These days it was rare for Jungkook to not call Taehyung by a nickname, unless he wanted to be serious.

“We need to do something about your concussion,” Yoongi said his fingers ghosting over Taehyung’s hair and brushing small strands away from his face.

Jungkook nodded finally feeling a tear make its way down his cheek. The tear landed on the tangled mass of their clasped hands and Jungkook put his other hand over it, squeezing hard.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asked again. This time Taehyung moaned and closed his eyes.

“It hurts.”

“What hurts, Tae?” Yoongi asked while him and Jungkook shared a quick look of apprehension.

“My head,” Taehyung mumbled as he curled in on himself and brought his free hand to hold his head. “What’s happening?” Taehyung grumbled again, this time into his chest and Jungkook had to lean in to hear him properly.

“It’s ok, Tae,” Jungkook said hoping his voice provided more comfort then he felt he could give. “You need to rest.” Taehyung didn’t respond then he added, “We’ll get you more medicine.” He gave Yoongi a quick pleading glance and his hyung stood up to fetch the supplies. While Yoongi grabbed the medicine Jungkook tried speaking to Taehyung again. “Do you think you can get to bed?”

It was a while before Taehyung responded, Yoongi waited behind Jungkook with the pill in one hand and a dirty water bottle in another. Finally then Taehyung seemed to uncurl himself. He was wincing all the while but Jungkook helped him to sit up and his hands went back to holding his head.

As quickly as he could with panicked and shaking limbs Jungkook took the medicine from Yoongi and practically forced it into Taehyung’s mouth. When he offered the water bottle Taehyung didn’t resist though.

It took both Yoongi and Jungkook holding him up but they managed to make Taehyung take the few steps that would get him back into a bed. The minute he was sitting on the bed he slumped backwards and Jungkook had to catch his head as it fell, gently placing it on his pillow.

Jungkook bit his lip in an attempt to keep the tears from coming but they came anyway. His arms braced his upper body over Taehyung’s bed and he let his head fall limply. Against his will a tiny hiccup of a sob came out of him. It was then Yoongi’s arms went around Jungkook’s shoulders.

The elder pulled him into a hug and Jungkook’s forehead rested on Yoongi’s chest quickly staining the dark fabric with a puddle of tears.

[itsallavengers]

Now I want to know the whole capture the flag story oh my god they are savages and I love them

Everyone blames Clint for starting it, later on, but in reality he was just the one who mentioned it in passing at the breakfast table on the morning of that Fateful Day.

In fact, they hadn’t even been that into the idea. Tony had outright laughed and then just wandered back off to the workshop. Natasha had turned to him and pulled a face of disdain. It had only been Bruce, Thor and Steve who were wholly into the idea. Thought it would be good for ‘team building’.

Oh, how wrong they were.

(Read more under the cut)

“PUT DOWN THE GUN, ROMANOV, OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL PUT MY SUIT AROUND YOU AND SET IT TO SELF-DESTRUCT.”

“GIVE ME THE FLAG OR STEVE’S GETTING IT IN THE KNEE!”

“You can’t seriously be…. you’re not actually going to shoot him right?” Bruce asked weakly, standing between them with his hands up, trying to calm both Natasha and Tony, who were facing off in between a red and gold flag Tony had rendered earlier that morning.

Natasha turned to him. “Don’t underestimate me, Banner.”

Tony wiped the cut over his eye and raised the repulsor he’d rigged up. “Clint already fucking tranqued Captain America, Bruce, their team are full of monsters. We need you. We need you to-”

“I’m not hulking out over a pimped up game of tag, now both of you put down your fucking weapons!” Bruce yelled.

Steve chose that moment to headbutt Natasha in the stomach and steal the gun from her hand. Which would’ve been all well and good- but they hadn’t accounted for Thor swinging down off the rafters and punching Steve sqaure in the jaw before running to the flag himself. 

Tony fired a warning shot which may or may not have been slightly above ‘warning shot’ levels. “Touch my flag again, you bastard, and I’ll fry the lot of you,” he dared. From the floor, Steve groaned and raised his hands in a thumbs up gesture of agreement.

Thor removed himself from the wall he had been inserted into by Tony’s ‘warning shot’ and smiled. “Two against one, Iron Man. Barton is on his way. Captain America is down and Bruce will no longer fight for you. You cannot win.”

Tony bared his teeth. “I will go down with this flag, motherfuckers.”

Natasha picked the gun off the floor and pointed it right at his dick. “Wanna risk it, Stark?” She said, other hand stretching out. “Give us the flag.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Give us the flag.”

“Give me your gun.”

“That’s…. that’s so not how this works.”

Tony shrugged, the hand gripping at the flag pole tapping out a staccato rhythm with his fingers. “My house, my rules.”

God. He hoped the new AI he’d designed (after Clint had fucking gone into the servers and put JARVIS to sleep) would work. Because he was going to do something pretty stupid.

“Steve, darling?” He called after another few seconds, “you remember what happened at Central Park, with the football tryouts?”

On the floor, Steve paused his pained rolling. Tony knew he was casting his mind back to when they’d last been at the park, and Steve had gone over to watch some guys playing (some admittedly terrible) football with one another before snapping after thirty seconds and running over in order to give them a lesson in how to effectively tackle someone 

“Riiight through the window,” Tony said, putting a foot behind him and bracing.

It seemed their enemies realised what was happening at the same time Steve did, because as soon as Steve jerked back to his feet, Thor was already reaching out.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on which way you looked at it) Steve was faster.

“Tony wHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU D-!” Bruce yelled loudly, the rest of his sentence cut off as suddenly Clint launched into the room and drop-kicked him efficiently.

Tony didn’t have the chance to answer anyway. Too busy being forcefully tackled by Captain America, their precious red and gold flag still clutched in his hand. He felt the air leave his lungs fast, pushed out by the pressure of Steve’s shoulder on his chest, and his feet weren’t even on the floor as Steve just sprinted further and further and further.

“LATER, TEAM CRAP!” He yelled out to them, giving one last wave before Steve pushed them through the window and sent them falling down to the streets below.

Ha. The flag was still theirs. Now all they had to do was survive this bit.

Luckily, the CCTV cameras had caught the pattern he’d been drumming into the pole a few seconds previously and had deployed the suit immediately, because Tony watched it shoot out of the window after them , latching around the bracelets he’d slipped onto Steve’s wrists as they’d been hurtling down the side of the tower. It was a terrible fit- his and Steve’s bodies weren’t exactly similar- but it did the trick, and with a yell of mild panic, Steve hit the repulsors like Tony had taught him and balanced them out in the air, about eight floors from the street. Tony felt the pull as Steve slowed them both down, but didn’t let go of the Flag. Not after all the effort he’d gone through in order to keep hold of it.

Up above, he saw Clint and Natasha peering out of the window after him. “BRUCE JUST HULKED OUT,” Clint cupped his hands and yelled, and then Tony watched both him and Natasha duck as a piano flew out of the window. 

“THAT MEANS WE WIN!” Tony yelled back up.

“WE WILL NEVER SURR-” Another crash, and then a green fist flashed through the window, just for a second, and suddenly Clint was falling out of the hole Tony and Steve had made seconds previously. 

Natasha cocked her head and watched him for a second, before turning back to them. “DO YOU MIND JUST GRABBING HIS ANKLE OR SOMETHING?” She called down.

“The question is, do we actually want to do that?” Tony mused, whilst Steve snorted and flew up to meet the flailing body of their insufferable archer, “also, honey, this might be bad timing, but I’d like to point out that you flying my armour is insanely hot and I would definitely like to explore this in future-”

His voice was drowned out as Clint’s body smashed into him,  and he huffed in annoyance. “Why does he have to interrupt me all the time? Barton, I was discussing important relationship things and you just fucking drop in and-”

“Oh, God, if you’re talking about your stupid armour kink then you can just drop me again,” Clint declared, before making a grab for the flag. Tony screamed, batting him over the head and trying to scramble as far away from Steve’s hold as he was able.

“ENOUGH!” Steve grabbed them both by the collars of their shirts and tore them apart, until both of them were dangling on opposite ends of Steve’s arms. Tony only noted minimal wobble as Steve balanced out on the foot repulsors, too, which meant he was learning- that was always nice to see. “I am calling a ceasefire on this game. Both of you stand down.”

“Steve!” Tony said, betrayed, whilst Clint just made another fruitless grab for the flag.

“I’m being responsible,” Steve said primly, before smiling, “also I’m pretty sure I’m concussed right now. And three of us just fell out of a window. Two went voluntarily. I think it’s time to call it quits.”

Tony folded his arms and then jerked out a leg, aiming for Clint’s shin across Steve’s body. Clint jerked away, and Steve hastened to steady them again, just as Clint reached out an arm and punched Tony in the shoulder, making it go dead. Reflexively, Tony’s grip relaxed on the pole as he winced- only realising his grave mistake as he watched the flag drop don where he couldn’t grab and keep going, down. down down, until-

“Well, that solves that problem,” Steve shrugged, watching the flag as it clattered onto the road and was then crushed brutally by a truck seconds later. He frowned as both Tony, Clint and Natasha from a hundred feet above them, all screamed in horror. 

“Barton, I’m going to ruin your life,” Tony turned to him, “you made me drop my flag and I’m going to ruin your fucking life-”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were that weak, did I-”

“Fuck you, my team still won.”

“No you didn’t!”

Steve gave them both a warning shake, and they went silent, Clint sullenly folding his arms. “As team leader of the Avengers, I declare our team the winners,” he said, before shooting upward, back toward the floor they’d started out on.

Clint yelled in outrage. “Bias! Under what grounds?”

Steve looked to Clint, and then over to Tony. “Well, for one thing, he was the last one to hold onto it.” He paused, and then shrugged. “Also he’s really hot and I’m very easily swayed by him.” 

Before Clint could even gag, Steve chucked him back through the window where Natasha was waiting. Tony grinned down at both of them, wrapping his arms around Steve as they hovered in the air. “Well that was fun, kids,” he said sweetly, as Clint looked around for something to undoubtedly try and shoot them with, “but you heard Cap. Our team won. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to go to hospital.”

“I will murder you in your sleep,” Natasha said bluntly.

“Losers talk!” Tony sung to her as Steve lifted them through the air to a safer distance, aiming for the penthouse.

Below him, he heard a particularly violent Russian curse, but chose to ignore it. He was the bigger man, after all. “Are you actually concussed?” He chose to say instead, turning to Steve.

“Well, Thor hit me very hard.”

“He tends to do that when he gets overexcited.”

“This was a really bad idea.”

“With hindsight, I can see why.”

There was a short silence, and then Steve turned back to him. “Rematch next week?”

Oh, Tony loved him. “Obviously”

[marlinmedicalassistance]

Knee Replacement Surgery India

When does a person require a knee replacement surgery?

If you have a painful and stiff knee replacement surgery and you cannot perform even the simplest of activities, and you have tried other treatments, but they don’t seem to work, then your doctor may consider a knee replacement surgery. Mostly people who are above 50 years and have severe osteoarthritis have to undergo this surgery.

What happens in the knee replacement surgery?

You will first be given a general anesthesia which will put you to sleep temporarily, or you will be given a spinal or epidural anesthesia where you will feel numb below the waist. Then an 8 to 12 inch cut will be made in front of the knee. The part of the joint which is damaged will then be removed from the surface of the bones, and the surfaces will be shaped so that it can hold a plastic or a metal artificial joint. The artificial joint is then attached to the thigh bone, knee cap and shin. A special material or cement is used for this. When fixed together, the attached artificial parts form the joint. Ligaments and the surrounding muscles provide support and function to this joint.

Knowing about the new advances in knee replacement surgery

Minimally invasive surgery has brought about a lot of developments in knee replacement surgery and other fields of medicine. The key characteristics of minimally invasive surgery are that it makes use of specialized techniques and instruments to allow the surgeon to perform a major surgery without making a large incision.

A small incision of 3 to 5 inches is required in the minimally invasive knee joint replacement as compared to the standard approach and incision. Less tissue is damaged in the smaller, less invasive approach, and this allows the surgeon to work between the fibers of the quadriceps muscles instead of making an incision through the tendon. So this will lead to less pain, faster recovery, and better motion because of less formation of the scar tissue.

What will happen after the knee replacement surgery?

You will have to stay in the hospital after your knee arthroplasty for around three to five days on an average. The people who go in for a knee joint replacement surgery have a lot of improvement. This improvement takes place in one month’s time of the surgery. The pain which is caused by the damaged joint becomes less after the construction of the new gliding surface.