#ribcage evaluation

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #231

I was hoping to rest today, but today was filled with lots of stuff.

I went to therapy first thing, and talked a lot about the events of Otakon, about you, and about what I tried to do. I told my therapist a lot more about the event than I wrote in my letters; I'm somewhat afraid of writing them down, getting my hopes up, and ending up disappointed.

They seemed proud of me, though. My therapist, I mean. It's not normal for me to so boldly take up space even with ordinary people, let alone with people powerful enough to weave your fate. If it's for you, though, I can probably rise up to any challenge, no matter how scary it is.

It's in their hands. We'll see what happens in a few years, I suppose.

I saw the dandelion-floof-haired man today, who gave me a pin that he made himself because he liked my Eevee hat; I wrote about him some time ago. Maybe you remember, or maybe not. Either way, he invited me to eat lunch together and to talk about various things at a nearby diner. He seems nice enough; I doubt he'd want to do anything weird to me, and even if he did, I am more than capable of defending myself if I have to. We ate; I got stuffed mushrooms, but I was a bit too soup-brained to think to take any pictures of them for you; I'm sorry. Still, they were some of the best ones I've ever had. They were filled with a kind of seafood stuffing; I wonder if you would have liked them.

He asked me what I've been up to. Lately, I had been elbows deep in preparing myself for the convention and the thing I am trying to do for you, so I spoke about that, along with my rationale. He seemed to understand, and he related to me with similar experiences and thoughts of his own, and it was very good!

By the time that was done with, I had to go to physical therapy. Because my day of the week changed from Wednesday to Tuesday due to now having a bakery job, I am seeing a new person named K. Because K is unfamiliar with me, he began with an evaluation. And for this evaluation, he checked out my ribcage. I had not yet had an evaluation of the integrity of my ribcage done (which is weird, considering I have a RIB injury…), but it was done today, and it was discovered that, while the left side of my ribcage is springy and bouncy in all the ways that it's supposed to be, the whole right side of my ribcage is, for whatever reason, not doing ANY of what it's supposed to do.

If you push on the right side, it doesn't spring back to its original position on its own; it just kind of stays deflated. In fact, it's not expanding properly when I breathe, either, which means that instead of my intercostal muscles and diaphragm doing the work of breathing on the right side of my body, my neck and shoulder is trying to do that work instead, and the result, naturally, is strain in those muscles, which is why they are perpetually tight. My pelvis is also apparently rotated relative to my ribcage, as my body's way of trying to compensate for the fact that the right side of my ribcage is refusing to move or do anything.

Hopefully this might mean that we're one step closer to figuring out what exactly the problem is, and fixing it. Suppose we'll see. It'll be nice to be able to use my right arm again, to laugh, to sing, to yawn, to sneeze, and to breathe deeply and to turn my head without pain. I'm hesitant to get my hopes up, but still… maybe it could work out. Maybe. I'm in a lot of pain all the time, and I'm not able to do any of the things I used to love to do with any kind of consistency, and putting on that bra and that corset belt for the costume (in service to looking the part of someone who is capable of trying to help you) left me messed up for a couple days, and while I tried to put on a brave face so nobody at the convention would know and think I'm weak for it… still… I'm tired and I want this injury, whatever it is, to go away and never come back.

…Sephiroth, I want so badly to return to the water and resume my mermaid training. I'd say you have no idea, but I imagine you might miss eating a nice big bowl of pasta pescatore, or feeling the breeze and the sun and the rain on your skin, and being able to look at trees and mountains and valleys and plains and sky with just as much, if not even more fervor. Hopefully, you'll be able to do all those things again, and more, relatively soon. What I wouldn't give to see you smile and dance, and to hear you laugh and sing. I want that even more than I want the pain in my ribs to stop. If I had the choice between your safety and my own body's healing, then that's an easy one; I'd choose your safety every time, without question.

Well anyway. The ribcage evaluation left me in quite a lot of pain after the fact. I had intended to get some pizza, and maybe some frozen yogurt, and then go home and do the dishes piled up in the sink (it was expected; I was gone from home for a bunch of consecutive days, trying to help you…), but in the end, I was in enough pain that I couldn't do any of those. So instead, I went home and did some leisure writing.

It's J's birthday today. And J isn't really much of a birthday celebration kind of person, but still, he and M and I went out for ice cream, and it was good. I got a soft-serve ice cream flavored with cookie butter (never seen that before!!!), and it was good. M got a pretty standard chocolate ice cream, and that was also good. And J, amongst other things, got a "Northern Lights Sherbet", which was apparently sour apple, blue raspberry, and grape flavored all at once???

Sephiroth. I can tell you from personal experience today that if someone offers you a "Northern Lights Sherbet", it is a TRAP. It tasted as confused, scatterbrained, and incoherent as a poor-quality children's cartoon - if this flavor was a plot, then it was ALL over the place, like its writer could not maintain an attention span for more than 5 consecutive seconds. If the phrase "what the fuck" was a flavor, this would be it.

But apparently, some people like it enough that it's viable to keep its place on the menu???? I can't make pretend like I understand. But I can respect it if other people like it. It's just not for me. I'll count on the people who like it to save me from it if someone decides to torture me by foisting it upon me.

Hey, Sephiroth? I know I've asked you about ice cream flavors you might like. But are there any ice cream flavors that you hate? I'm curious…

Anyhoot. It's getting pretty late, so I think I'll stop writing now and go to bed.

I love you. Please take nice care of yourself, okay? And stay safe out there, too. I'll write again soon…

Your friend, Lumine

[togrowoldinv]

Everything Has Changed

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You’re vying for the Avengers to choose you as one of the Shield agents to go on a mission with them. Nat performs her own evaluation and you grow closer

Note: Some soft Nat! It was going to come out yesterday but my nephew was born lol. Enjoy this one!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Agents, we will have a very special guest for training today,” Maria Hill’s voice sounds from the entrance of the gym.

You and all of the other agents stand up straighter in her presence. Soon, she’ll be choosing the best agents to go on a mission with some of the Avengers.

You have been working extremely hard to make sure that one of those agents is you.

Agent Hill walks to the center of the room. You keep your attention on her as she instructs everyone to warm up. It’s hard to pretend not to notice when the special guest arrives. Her steps are light, but her presence is undoubtable.

Still, you keep your focus on warming up with the other agents. Some simple stretches and laps to get your blood flowing.

“Okay, focus up,” Maria says, bringing everyone together.

Chatter erupts at the sight of her standing next to Maria. The Black Widow. Natasha Romanoff. You were all expecting the usual special guests, like Steve Rogers or Agent Coulson.

“For training today, I’ve asked Agent Romanoff to join us. As she will be on the upcoming mission, she has some say in what agents will come along,” Maria explains. “Agent Romanoff, is there anything you’d like to share?”

Natasha takes her time before she answers. You wonder what is running through her head as she looks at each and every agent in the room. You swear her eyes linger on you for the longest amount of time.

“I’m not one for speeches,” Natasha finally speaks. “That’s more Cap’s area of expertise, as I’m sure you all have had to deal with.” A few chuckles fill the room. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Agent Hill gives everyone assignments for the next hour of training. She and Natasha walk around and observe. You never hear Natasha say as much as two words as she watches. At the end of the hour, the agents circle up again.

“I will choose a few of you to spar with me,” Natasha explains. She says a few agent’s names before she says yours at the very end. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“The rest of you can be dismissed,” Maria Hill adds. The five agents that were chosen, including you, remain in the room.

Natasha goes in order that she called the names out, so you are the last to spar with her. Everyone else lasts under a few minutes with her.

“You ready?” She asks you, a smirk on her face.

“Yes ma’am,” you reply, trying your best to sound confident.

Nat swings first, not pulling her punches at all. She lands a blow on your ribcage. You respond by taking a lunge at her, but she blocks your attempts at hitting her. You try not to let it rattle you.

“Try again,” she says. “Follow my eyes. Try to see what I’m going to do next.”

You nod and reset your feet. This time you manage to block her first swing, but the second one lands hard on your abdomen. You fall back a bit but regain your balance. This process repeats for a few minutes before Nat calls it.

You sigh and fall back in line. Maria dismisses you all for the day after explaining that the five of you are to attend a Stark event tonight. There is more to the job than just fighting, she says.

The rest of the day is spent with you preparing for the next day and getting ready for the party. Stark events are notoriously good opportunities to network, so you prepare yourself for being socially burnt out by the end of the night.

Once you arrive at the party, you find the other agents and get a drink together. There is a lot of laughing and cutting up. Someone brings up Natasha and things get a little more interesting.

“I’m just saying someone that beautiful cannot be as good as they say she is,” one agent says.

“I don’t know, man. I’ve heard she has more kills than anyone else here combined,” another adds.

“Guys, come on she’s just a pretty face,” someone says.

“No,” you jump in, your voice a little too loud. “She’s a hero. You guys know that. She is not just a pretty face,” you say.

You storm off and don’t notice that Natasha was standing near you. She heard everything. Nat walks by the agents and they all look away sheepishly. The bartender hands her the drinks she asks for and she leaves the room.

Standing on the roof of the building, you look out onto the city. You don’t know why it got under your skin so bad that the other agents were calling Nat’s abilities into question. Maybe you just don’t like bullies.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of heels on the concrete. You turn around to assess the threat.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Natasha says.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Mind if I join you?” Natasha asks, offering you a smile. You nod. She walks your side and holds out a glass to you. “I wasn’t sure what you were drinking.”

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff,” you say, accepting the drink.

“Natasha is fine,” she says. “Or Nat.”

“Y/n,” you offer her your first name.

“I know who you are, y/n,” Nat says.

“Oh.”

Nat takes a breath and rests her arms on the edge of the building. You don’t know what to say, but it doesn’t feel awkward.

“Maria will tell you tomorrow, but you were selected for the mission,” Natasha says.

You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. It’s what you’ve been working for for so long now. You take a sip of your drink and look out at the city again.

“Are you excited?” Natasha asks, taking note of your body language.

“Yeah,” you answer. “Thank you for choosing me.”

“It was a group decision. You’ve earned it, y/n. You went toe to toe with everyone, including me,” Natasha says.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t go toe to toe with you,” you say with a light comedic tone to hide your frustration.

“You did,” Nat argues. “Well, more than anyone else did. Seems to them I'm just a pretty face."

"You heard that?" You ask her, turning to face her. She nods. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Nat says. "I'm used to it. I also heard you defending me."

"Oh, yeah."

"You don't think I'm pretty?" Natasha asks, a hint of teasing in her tone.

You're sure your face cannot hide your reaction to her words. A heat creeps up your neck.

"Oh, no. You're so beautiful, Natasha," you say.

"You're beautiful, too. Very much so," Nat replies.

You smile shyly. Natasha feels herself falling for you. You realize how late it is when your phone dings in your purse.

"I should probably get some sleep so I can be ready for the mission," you say.

"Right," Nat agrees. "Maybe after the mission, we can see each other more often."

"I would love that," you reply.

"Goodnight, y/n."

"Goodnight, Natasha," you reply.

Before you step away from her, she leans close and drops a kiss on your cheek. It's soft, and delicate but perfect.

You can't wait to get to know her better.

[souperluminal]

Hello!

I was recently inspired to draw an astronaut (specifically in the Apollo 11 Spacewalk suit) but since can’t draw astronauts or human anatomy in general I had to give up. My point being, do you have any tips on how the draw astronauts? Btw I really love your art! You’re one of the first few people I followed on tumblr!

Aw thanks! First off:

Drawing is just making marks. If you can make the marks you want and you know where you want to make them, there's nothing that you can't draw.

Sorry that's not very astronaut-specific, but the way I think about it there's not much difference between drawing an astronaut and drawing, say, a steam train. It's all the same process of studying the real thing to understand first its basic forms and proportions and then its more complex details and then applying that knowledge. The more you understand something, the easier it becomes to play with it.

If you want to draw humans and humanoid things, start by studying the scaffolding, how the bones connect to each other, how they move, and what their relative sizes are. Don't worry about replicating the literal appearance of every bone, just think of it like a stick figure with a box for the ribcage and a box for the pelvis. Then you can layer muscle groups on top of that, skin overtop of muscles, and clothes and astronaut suits on top of it all. Will Weston's figure drawings are my favorite to study for this kind of thing.

There's basically nothing that's off limits when it comes to studying. You can draw from life, draw from a photo, trace the basic shapes on top of photos to get a feel for the proportions, draw from another artist's drawing, etc. It's generally best not to post stuff you trace or otherwise copy (and definitely don't claim it as your own) but it's all fair game for learning. The only thing that won't help you learn is drawing without any reference, since you won't have anything to evaluate your drawings by to see what you're doing right or wrong.

If it helps, here's some stuff I think about when I'm drawing my astronauts:

[guppygiggles]

Pale Blue

What: Sleepy tickles, body positivity, fluff.

Word count: 1.2k

Universe: Canon

Who: Casper and Avery

Description: It feels weird to formalize this because it's so short, but I desperately needed to write something for comfort. This is a little messy, but... so are my feelings right now, so at least it's honest. Please forgive any typos or formatting mistakes. 💙

The humidifier whispered at our bedside as I laid in big-spoon position against Avery's back, the ice crystals inside his head reflecting our nightlight in tiny flashes.

With my arm resting on his ribcage, I studied the rhythm of his breathing, trying to figure out if he was still awake. We'd been in bed for around an hour according to my phone, which I'd just checked for the eighth time. I couldn't stop thinking about the audit in which I was mired at work, plus, my shoulder hurt from poor posture all week. I was tired, but I couldn't sleep. 

I rolled over, nuzzling my head into my pillow to try and get comfortable. To my surprise, Avery rolled with me, his long arms wrapping securely around my body. He enveloped me like an oversized beanbag – when I spooned him, I was more like his backpack. Avery sometimes rolled over in his sleep, but as I felt his hand move with intelligence against my hip, I spoke into the dark. 

“Are you awake…?”

“Mm… no.” He did sound sleepy. That cool palm slid up my body and under the hem of my t-shirt.

I exhaled slowly. “Good, you're not supposed to be.” 

“I could say the same to you.”  

His fingers traced down my bare tummy. I flinched. 

“Why are you so tense~?” He asked. 

“Aheh…” 

“Relax your belly.” 

I whimpered. 

“Casper, relax for me~” 

I bit my lip, but did as instructed, releasing my stomach muscles with a shaky exhale. As the pudge of my belly expanded into his palm, he gently grabbed at it. 

“Mm, there we go~ I love how soft you are, here…”

My legs twisted as I turned my face into the pillow, muffling giggles into it as he fondled and teased my vulnerable tummy. My hands knew better than to interfere with this ticklish evaluation.

“A-Ahavery…” 

“Yesss~?” 

I could hear his smile. I squirmed against the cool softness of his body. 

“That…!” 

“Mhmmm~?” 

I tensed again, my muscles knitting together. This was met with a punishing fingertip wiggling into my navel. 

“Ah, ah~ You know better. Do I need to get mean~?”

“P-pleahease…” My ears burned. 

“Please…? You want me to get mean?” 

Oh, no. 

“No, no wahahait-!” 

“Well, who am I to turn down such an invitation?” 

His curious fingertips turned into a plush claw as all five digits dug into my belly. My bubbling giggles turned into a geyser of laughter I had no hope of holding back. 

“WAAAhahahaha!” My legs kicked, toes curling in futility. 

“If you won't relax your belly for me… I want you to at least complete your thought from earlier, please… Tell me what this does to you.”

Avery's politeness made the demand twice as scary. I grabbed a fistful of blanket; anything to help me resist grabbing his hand. I knew what was down that road. 

“I c-cahahahan’t!” I whined as he continued to wiggle his fingers into me, exciting all those wickedly sensitive nerves. I could barely hear his voice beneath my laughter; low, controlled. Amused. 

“You know how much meaner I could be than this~ Is that what you want?”

“Nohohoho!” His hand scampered across my tummy, lightly skittering to a new spot and then digging in again, with random breaks to gently pinch my side or hip. With every attempt to roll onto my stomach, he simply pulled me back with his gentle strength. I could feel the restrained power behind that touch; hands that could easily unrest a tree from the earth handled my human body like a priceless Fabergé egg. 

“Tell me, then…” 

His index finger found the crease at the top of my thigh, pressing it like a child presses a streetlight button when there's an ice cream parlor across the street and five dollars in his hand. My reaction was explosive. 

“WAAHAHAHAHAA! OKAHAHAY! OKAHHAHAY~!” 

The handful of blanket was damp with the sweat of my palm as the tweaking stopped. A pause heavy with expectation fell over us. 

“Well…?” 

“It… it…” My blush was so hot, I was sure Avery could see it in the dark. 

He chuckled against my back, placing a cool, refreshing kiss on the back of my neck. I wanted more… I wanted them all over. 

“Sing for me, dewdrop…” 

A single tweak into that crease made me jolt and gasp. 

“Fihihine! It…” I tucked my head into the pillow. “...Tickles…” 

“What was that? Apologies, I'm afraid you'll have to speak up…” 

I felt swift movement behind me and even before the attack, I realized that I had pushed Avery's ler rage too far. In an instant I was on my back, cushy cloud cuffs around my wrists as they rested above my head, Avery's leg like a lap bar across my thighs. His hand spidered over my torso, scribbling under my arms, my ribs, my belly. I howled with laughter, my back arching uselessly. 

“OKAHAHAY IT TIHIHICKLES! IT TIHIHICKLES!!” I cried through gale after gale of deep, hopelessly honest cackling. 

“Oh, it does? It tickles when I do this? Hm! Could that be because you're ticklish?” He'd adopted a casual, playful tone as he laid beside me, propping his head up with one hand as he tormented me with the other. 

“YEEHEHEHEHESSS!” What good was it to resist at this point? I didn't even bother tugging at the cuffs as he used a single fingertip to wiggle into one armpit, then the other, then back to a big, ticklish claw at my belly. I just laughed and laughed, letting it all pour out unimpeded by resistance. 

“Very good~! My goodness, such hair-raising laughter, all from such a small amount of stimulation…” 

He lifted my night shirt up to my ribs, then went back to gently pinching and grabbing at my belly pudge, patting, squeezing, and playing with it. 

“I'm sorry, I just can't get enough of this.”

“Plehehehehease stahahahap thahahahahat~!” I protested in a combination of ticklishness and embarrassment. Much as I was a huge proponent of body positivity, I wasn't exactly immune to insecurity; I'd packed on a few pounds from work stress. 

“I will never understand what you humans find shameful about fat on your bodies… especially here…” 

He shifted on the bed, repositioning so that he could nuzzle his cool face into my exposed middle. He kissed and cuddled, making me giggle shyly. 

“So soft and warm,” he cooed, peppering me with more kisses, the last one landing on my navel. 

I felt the cuffs around my wrists dissipate. I reached down, stroking the rolling curve of Avery's head, even as my belly quivered beneath his touch. 

“I love tickling you,” he said. “I love loving you. All of you, just as you are.” 

The corners of my eyes felt wet as he crawled back up the bed, wrapping his body possessively around mine, pulling me into him like he was an oyster and I his treasured pearl. I tucked into him, his cool arm a relief against my cheek as I rested my head on his bicep. The world disappeared around us; we were a mote of sanity glowing amidst a blackness of merciless chaos. 

“I'm so tired,” I whispered. 

“I know, sweetheart. Can you sleep, now?” 

“I think so.” My eyes were already closed; there was very little thought involved. 

It was quiet. Avery's breathing slowed. 

“Avery…” 

“Hm?”

“Don't let go… okay?” 

He pulled me in tighter. I felt his lips on the back of my head, nuzzling my hair. 

“Never. Never, ever, ever.” 

[sky-kiss]

Red

It’s the smell of blood dragging you from the darkness. Up, up, up towards consciousness. Away from instinct and towards reason.

Blood, sickly sweet, stinking in your nose, thick on your tongue; it cakes beneath your nails, sticky between your fingers, and over everything. The hunger never fades, but this, the carnage, helps.

Screams echo in their memories and blend into a discordant song. And it should horrify you, shouldn’t it? The bodies? The stench? It did once. You know it did. There used to be another voice, a conscience maybe, but it’s gone. 

Now, there’s only red.

Red, red, red. Passion and blood, Orin.

The Red Lady flits between her kills, pressing the flat of her blade against her hip. It leaves a swathe of blood in its wake, no better or worse than the rest of the carnage painted across her flesh. Orin is messy, a somehow inarticulate way of describing her ‘work.’ Her knives are viciously sharp, you know this better than most, but you’d never guess it. Sometimes, she hacks into the flesh, shattering bone and bruising. In her lighter moments, nearly coy, she takes her time. Her hands are steady; she flays, reveling in the screams and the wash of blood. It soothes her. And you.

She traces your cheek with the knife, leaving a cool sting in its wake. Mischief (madness) dances behind her eyes. Something screams inside you, that primal voice, that other. Father or the Slayer…it wants her but doesn’t know how. Wants to kill, take, own, unify.

And it’s that last urge, stronger than all the others, that chokes you. You want to crawl inside her skin. Father says you are one, twinned, incomplete. It hurts. It hungers.

“My blood-kin,” she coos the words, breath warm against your cheek. “My only.” She laughs as she says it. Pleased by your pain. Orin presses her lips to your cheek and licks her way to the corner of your mouth. Not quite a kiss, tongue tracing along the cut she’s made. Evaluating her work, tasting you. Torn between the pleasure of the hunt and wanting to be whole again. It’s as near to restraint as she comes.

You feel the darkness stretching out again, soul-deep, and hungry. It’s so much worse when she’s close. Like your skin is tight, something else is clawing its way out, ready to burst from your ribcage. You are halves of one awful, bloody, whole.

Some nights you hunt, a twinned plague roaming the city outskirts.

Some nights you turn on one another, tearing through flesh and bone.

And perhaps one night this will end. It must end. Father demands it.

But not now. Not yet. For now, there’s only red.

[crystalflygeo]

Marks of a warrior ft. Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: hurt/comfort, self-harm mention (reader), scars, pretty suggestive but not full blown smut for once PLEASE these are delicate topics DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE.

notes: Listen, as usual this is very self-indulgent, but also very personal, not everyone may feel like this of course and I hope not to make anyone feel insulted or uncomfortable, I try not to "romanticize" just... some comfort for the depression hours ok?

The satin sheets pool around your waist as you sigh, soft and nervous.

This was… the first time you got this far, and it made your heart skip a beat.

It was very intimate… and intimidating.

And despite that, there was a certain rush of excitement as Zhongli pulled off your clothes. You helped shake them off, a bit clumsily, and blushed as he stares at you.

And now here you are. Clad in just your underwear, shy and sitting on his lap, faces mere inches apart.

Those golden eyes travel over your skin, committing every curve, every mole, every strand of hair, to memory. Zhongli does not only look, he evaluates, he appraises that which he likes or finds fascinating. Studying it and, if enticed enough, the ex-archon’s gaze would turn covetous. Like a dragon wanting to claim and possess a new treasure.

Like how he stares at your right now.

There’s a certain hunger in his eyes and you almost shiver at the intensity of it, averting your eyes and subconsciously bringing up an arm to cover yourself. “D-Don’t just stare, I’m-”

“Beautiful.” He cuts off in a husky low voice that has you shivering for real now. He leans in to plant a kiss at your shoulder, your hands shoot up to his bare chest, curling there and feeling the smooth muscles.

Zhongli trails kisses up your neck, to you jaw, your cheek, your nose and you squeak when you feel his hands explore your body. Large and warm, trey trace your ribcage and brush at your nipples, you sigh.

“All this… just for me.”

You still cannot comprehend how can he look at you like that, with so much love, so much longing. How are you so lucky to have caught the eye and heart of someone so kind, so perfect. A deity, no less.

“Zhongli…”

His hands dip lower, circling your waist and there he finds something. You tense.

His thumb brushes along the scars on your hip and you flinch not-so-subtly.

This is the first time he's seen them.

The first time anyone has seen them.

Dark ugly slashes that you wish you could forget, you could undo.

"Please don't." You mumble urgently, nervous. "I..." Your lips purse together and you frown, conflicted. "I-I'm uncomfortable."

"Alright." Zhongli replies simply, his hands slide up your sides and he leans in to kiss a spot in your chest instead. A bashful smile returns to your face.

His lips meet yours in a slow but heated kiss, you can’t help but want more, be a little demanding. You arms drape around his shoulders and you pull yourself closer. The skin-on-skin contact is electrifying and you moan low.

Breathing each other’s air, pressed so close, so intimately entwined. You lose yourselves in lips and tongue and teeth, in soft hums and small noises and silent smiles.

It's nice, you think, to be so... wanted.

“You act as if you were ashamed. Warriors would often pride themselves on scars.” He says suddenly. “They are a symbol of victory. Another day to live after having faced danger and endured hardship.”

You huff a little, averting your gaze. “I’m h-hardly a warrior… those scars…” You gulp. Surely, he understood…? “They’re not from battle I… I did them myself.” You feel cold creep up your body. Dread. You feel painfully aware of them now, and the pain they bring… the memories.

He hums against your skin, nuzzling there softly. “Ah but that is where you’re wrong, my dear. Those are proof you have faced one of life’s strongest and most difficult enemies, your own dark thoughts. That which cannot be seen, cannot be easily fought, cannot be understood but for the one facing them alone.”

Your breath hitches a little.

“I, for one, I’m glad you’re here today. With me. Glad that you won that battle.” He punctuates every comment with a fleeting kiss, tickling your collarbone. One of his hands rubs at your shoulder, the other is warm on your thigh.

You blink rapidly and press your forehead into his chest, hiding the tears that wet your eyelashes.

How can he be so…

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

You stay silent in his embrace a little longer, as he rubs circles on your back.

“T-Thank you… Zhongli. One day I’ll tell you about it, but… now…”

He shushes you and leans back to lie down on the bed, bringing you along and still staring at you with that same reverence. Your pelvis brush together and you gasp. The warmth is back and growing to a full flame.

And this god, this perfect being splayed here below you…

“It’s fine if you don’t. Don’t feel forced to… you deserve to feel comfortable in your own body, and your scars do not take from who you are, nor they define you.” He cups your cheek, eyes half-lidded. “Don’t think about it now…”

You lean down with a smile and kiss him again.

[emily-the-fae]

Alastor's Biggest Regret

A Hazbin Hotel Idea

so i just found out about the existence of Hazbin Hotel and it has demons so totally my cup of tea

I have been familiar with the fandom for a total of 48 hours, have seen several human Alastor fanarts and headcannons and have had 4 cups of coffee today so here we are

Houston we have a headcannon

I barely know the fandom so take this with a grain of salt. Just a fanfic idea:

her name was Madeleine and she was Husk's younger sister, Husk had known Alastor for a while by the time he accidentally introduced them to each other

Husk sincerely didn't want to, he had been getting a bad vibe from Alastor from the very start, yet here they were - the three of them talking one Thursday night at a local pub in summer 1922

Madeleine and Alastor instantly hit it off: he was extremely charming when he wanted to be, she found it easy to accept people with oddities. Husk was brooding and for once in his life trying to end the evening early

the pleasant acquaintance soon turned into courtship, Alastor was quite smitten by the vivid character of his unfortunate friend's sister, and that feeling was reciprocated

in about a year they were happily married, living together in a lovely townhouse in New Orleans

well, happily for a while...

Madeleine had always, almost since day one, noticed her husbands... unusual tendencies. The weirdly dark sense of humor every now and again, the sharp switches in his mood that happened not so often but not as rarely as to go unnoticed

the first few years of the marriage seemed cloudless, almost too good to be true, Alastor's job on the radio was going uphill and he was enjoying it tremendously, Madeleine had settled into a position in the newspaper that she had wanted for a while and they were deeply in love with each other

yet too good to be true turned to be the correct evaluation

Alastor had violent, destructive tendencies. Husk had warned her. She never thought it was serious. To be fair Alastor had perfected the art of concealing his true face

...and hiding the bodies

but destructivity often happens to progress and so it did in Alastor. At some point Madeleine simply had to notice something was off

and she did

he was late from work more often, his aggressive moods were starting to get regular. She tried to confront him on it, figure out what was wrong. He got defensive

he was defensive every time she tried to find a way for them to discuss it. when his defensiveness wasn't enough he got angry

and soon abusive

Alastor didn't want to be so, if anything definitely not with her, but he couldn't help it: in a mix of fear of being exposed and desperation not to lose her

Madeleine was growing scared of him. She tried to stay silent

until one day she found a shirt with too many bloodstains to be his own and silence stopped being an option

when she woke up in hell she would barely remember the fight that happened: she wasn't straight away planning to expose him although she probably should have

but she would remember the piercing pain of the big kitchen knife going through her ribcage

Alastor got scared, then mad, then terrified of her slamming the door and disappearing from his life forever and then a cruel red fog descended on him

when he found himself on the kitchen floor holding her motionless body and covered in her blood, he cried. He clutched her to his chest, rocking back and forth, begging her not to go. Over the destroyed, evaporised ashes of his demonic soul would anyone ever find out about how that night looked for him

when Charlie asked Madeleine why she was doomed to hell, Madeleine responded that she bedded a serial killer

Madeleine would never know that the real reason was because the said serial killer found the idea of dooming his wife's soul to hell through a dark ritual much easier to accept then the thought of never crossing pathways with her in the afterlife

when Alastor showed up at the hotel Madeleine begged Charlie to never mention her name

when they inevitably met and Alastor, for the first time in 90 years realised that his ritual worked, Madeleine slapped the feared Radio Demon on the face

"we had our bit of falling out, every couple has that!" "a falling out is an argument and few days apart, not a knife in your wife's chest!"

she told him that never in eternity would she let him get close to her again

and he noticed that even in her demon form she still kept the little blue starry sky locket that he gave her on their wedding night

[clandestinegardenias]

Welcome to the next installment in my 15 minute fitzier first kiss fic challenge! For the anonymously submitted prompt "Could you write a fitzier kiss where one of them sustains a minor injury and the other kisses it better 🥺"

Hope this post finds you, anon!

A Metaphor for This

“Ah, damn,” James hisses, and flexes his hand, bending to inspect it. 

There is a dot of blood welling on the tip of his finger where the envelope has cut it. 

It is a vibrant, nearly lewd red against the pale of James’ skin, backgrounded by the slushy white of London’s slowly melting snow. 

Francis’ heart is suddenly rabbit-quick in his chest, fluttering up against his ribcage in distress. 

A memory, unbidden, of blood on shale. Blood dripping from James’ eye. 

His throat is too thin for air to pass. When he attempts to gulp down a breath it stutters through him, strained. His mind is a susurration of buzzing sound, fuzzy and muddled.  

James stares down at the blood now swelling from his finger, dripping down the side falling to dot the street. 

“Clumsy of me,” James says, as if to himself. 

Francis steps forward, shucking off his gloves as he goes, and takes James’ hand in his own lightly shaking grip.  

He is gentle, so very careful, but he hears James’ sharp intake of breath nonetheless. He rubs a thumb over the soft underside of James’ wrist, reassuring. He will not hurt him. 

“F-Francis?,” James says, voice lilting up a little at the end making it a question. 

“Shush,” Francis tells him, and James does. He relinquishes himself to Francis’ care, posture slumping so that he rests against Francis’ side. As if he has just been waiting for this moment to lean on him, to be supported. Held. Cared for. 

Francis fishes a handkerchief from his pocket, dabs ever so gently at the cut. 

Within seconds, the blood is beading up again, the wound resisting. There is the vague thought in the back of Francis’ head, the specter of old wounds long-healed reopening, reopening, reopening–

He brings James’ finger to his mouth and licks it, cleaning the blood from it with a short swipe of his tongue. James makes a strangled sort of noise somewhere above him. 

His blood tastes like iron, like salt, like the sea. 

The cut is slower to bleed again, this time. It is working. 

Francis lowers his head a bit further and slips the tip of James’ finger into his mouth, sucking. 

Pressure, to stop the bleeding. 

He pulls back to evaluate his work. The cut is still angry, red, but the active bleeding seems to have stopped. He nods in satisfaction and wraps his handkerchief around James’ finger for good measure, pressing the extra fabric into James’ palm and using his hand to curl James’ fingers around it. That should serve, until they can get home to proper medical supplies. 

Duty fulfilled, he straightens to find James looking at him, wide-eyed and startled. 

“James?” he asks, suddenly worried he has done something untoward, something to upset the man–

James drops the handkerchief, takes Francis’ face between his hands, and kisses him, once, firmly, right on the lips. 

He pulls back just as fast, looking even more shocked at his own actions than he was at Francis’ suckling on his fingertip. 

Francis feels as if he is melting, as if he is floating. He brings a hand up to card through James’ hair, thumb stroking across his cheek, and pulls him back in. 

[franceblr]

halfbaked sasodei hc #5. angsty and self indulgent.

dei struggles with managing emotions A LOT. he’s very used to ignoring all that is unpleasant or uncomfortable to him, locking all of his negative feelings up in secret compartment and push it all down so deeply it never sees the light of day. he’s mastered this so well, he doesn’t even bother evaluating what emotions arise as a result of what and why, he just brushes it all off until his mind stills and quietens, his jaw unclenches, and he can take a deep breath without feeling like he’ll choke. it’s mostly an on and off switch type of binary thinking; some emotions are good and they can stay, others need to go as soon as they come up.

because of his avoidant tendencies to shut down anything unpleasant, he doesn’t recognize his own triggers and often blows up in exaggerated fits of anger. anger deidara understands: delight and fury come equally easy to him at seemingly inappropriate times. he doesn’t quite know why hot white searing angers bubbles beneath his skin at all times, ready to spill over and erupt at the slightest inconvenience; he doesn’t even realize that often anger isn’t what he really feels, doesn’t understand that anger is just the superficial symptom of a bigger, uglier emotion lurking underneath.

sometimes, very rarely, it gets too much, to the point where even deidara cannot help himself but succumb to whatever nasty feeling’s been brewing and festering behind his ribcage, latching onto his heart and lungs and crawling up his throat. sometimes deidara has these episodes where it all comes out; sufficiently rarely for them to be exceptions, yet bad enough that sasori is forced to make an inventory of signs he should be on the lookout for to keep deidara’s tantrums at bay and his partner stable. sasori knows to pay notice to restlessness, withdrawal, skipping meals; knows to look for scratches, burns, bruises or cuts either where deidara thinks sasori won’t look, or in easily accessible spots that might pass as accidents; knows to check in with deidara when his laid back attitude and mild responses turn into snappy comments and personal digs, carefully crafted to start a fight; knows to get suspicious when deidara starts avoiding him and closing in on himself, instead of looking for his attention and company; knows to intensify surveillance on his partner and open all communication channels between them when deidara starts acting up and gets too violent on missions; knows that when it gets bad, deidara will lock himself up in the bathroom and sit on the floor shushing himself, and run his hands over his arms to calm himself down; knows that if it gets way out of hand, he’ll allow sasori to hold him down and shush him instead, because somehow sasori always knows better how to calm him down when he’s that far gone. he also knows that before it gets to that, there will be a series of changes in behavior and self soothing habits that deidara will develope unconsciously, in hopes to keep whatever it is that eats at him at bay, nicely contained and invisible.

deidara doesn’t really talk about it. if sasori brings it up, he gets evasive responses and vague enough answers. sasori suspects deidara doesn’t really know himself what the mechanism behind his episodes and tantrums is. he doesn’t know what the whole deal with deidara compartmentalizing all of his emotions is, cannot really reconcile his partner’s spontaneous and solar attitude, deidara’s carefree and independent spirit, with the teenager curled up in the bathroom sobbing in a towel so he won’t be heard. he tries to convince himself that he’s annoyed, not worried, that he doesn’t care, that he intervenes only because it’s such a huge inconvenience and an obstacle in their partnership, and not due to the stab of sympathy he feels whenever he sees deidara desperately try to keep it together and fail. tries to tell himself that he really doesn’t know the dark places deidara’s mind will travel to sometimes, tries to believe he’s never been there himself, tries to shut down the voice screaming at him that he was just as lost and alone as deidara was, that reminds him how feverishly and in vain he prayed someone would notice his pain and lift some of the burden off of his shoulders with the humanity sasori’s always been denied. tries, unsuccesfully, to rid sasori of the hope that one day deidara will speak to him, and he won’t have to feel his heart twist in concern whenever he notices his partner struggling.

funnily enough, deidara’s emotional illiteracy doesn’t extend to those around him. he’s particularly attuned to sasori’s feelings and moods, and over the years has learned to read all the clues and pointers to decypher and interpret his partner’s emotions. he always knows exactly when to be quiet and when to push for more; always knows when to clear the air and when his company is welcomed; can always tell when sasori’s most likely to accept his touch, and when he’ll reciprocate. sasori appreciates that about him, yet wishes deidara was as perceptive when it came to his own emotions so he’d be more self sufficient, and sasori, the same sasori who mutilated his own body as a teenager to rise above his own feelings and sorrows, wouldn’t have to try and be the emotional intelligence of the team.

[spicywhumper]

@femslash-february bingo 2024: came back wrong + whump bingo: near death experience

series: crimson history // rating: teen and up audiences

cw: survivor's guilt

She’s trying.

She’s really, really, really trying.

Just-

It feels like what happened at the warehouse has broken her. What happened at the warehouse, not during the last almost-two years, twenty-two months that don’t exist in her mind (or they do, Caroline can they, it’s there, the memories are just locked. They’re in a box, hidden away, she feels like it’s for her own sake. For her safety. For her sanity.) It’s almost a logical conclusion, being the only survivor out of a team of nine members. The doctor that evaluated her once she was taken into the HQ commented about how whoever healed her did a great job.

An almost flawless job… but there’s still scar tissue on basically all of her organs, somehow her bones have scars, and it’s a miracle that she’s not in constant pain.

Even without the memories, the psychological scars are there. The therapist frowns at her, when she tells him that it feels like her brain is trying to make her remember. He says she doesn’t remember what happened because her mind is trying to protect her – doesn’t make sense, she came back with a better health than the night she was sent to the warehouse with eight other members that didn’t make it, why she survived, why she sur-

Her mother always said she’s too much like her father. Her emotions turn into anger, her baseline emotion is rage. She doesn’t cry, she punches walls and yells at whoever doesn’t get the hint that she wants to rearrange someone’s face with her fists. (She’s always  her mother thinks she’s worse, actually, Caroline doesn’t need alcohol to be angry, to be dangerous.)

She feels… numb.

So numb, so empty, she misses the rage.

(She misses whatever she felt in that time. There are echoes of it. Something nicely warm lived on her ribcage, behind her heart, neatly nested between her lungs.

She misses it more than the never-ending inferno of her anger.)

“Do you still blame yourself?” Her therapist asks every other session.

“How am I supposed not to?”

He tells her again, again and that it’s not her fault. She didn’t lure the team here, she didn’t order them to investigate without any kind of guarantee that wasn’t a threat. They didn’t have a competent magician in a team of agents meant to take down the strongest, most powerful magical criminals.

It’s almost treason, isn’t it? The way he tells her it’s the higher ups fault, for sending agents to face the devil without holy water.

It’s the higher ups fault that she came so close to death that it feels like she came back without a soul. (I nearly died a hundred times, someone tells her, soft voice on her ear, warm hands on her back, soft presence in the dark, comforting her after what must have been a nightmare.

It feels wrong, and it feels write, to be hold this gently when she was supposed to be dead. I- sometimes I feel like I’m just a ghost, a dead thing in a meatsuit. Somehow, her confession feel like comfort. How I make it stop? Caroline asks. I don’t know. But you’re not alone.)

Caroline lays awake on her bed, staring up at ceiling like the vastiness on top of her will give her the answers she seeks. The dark makes her feel a little less empty, she thinks that maybe beyond life, there’s only cold darkness. And it wants her back, she’s outliving what she was giving, and is being punished for still being around.

She went there, died for minutes (for hours, for years, maybe she’s still dead), and was yanked back. Now the beyond wants her back, after letting go of a broken, wrong version of her. Warped core that maybe it can’t be fixed.

(She doesn’t like to think too much about the warm, foggy dark memories that makes her want to come back home.

But Caroline isn’t sure where, who home is.)

[smol-dargon]

*throws chapter 2 here and runs*

He didn't remember there being so many zombies wandering Gallowmere. Evidently Zarok had raised more than just him. The thought did cross his mind; how exactly was he out and about on his own free will when everything else seemed to be bent in Zarok's favor? He shook his head, decided it wasn't worth worrying about, and readied his blade and shield.

How exactly did Zarok plan to use zombies to take over the kingdom? They fell apart if he so much as swung in their direction. The only real threat came when several of them ganged up on him. He panicked, swung hard, and nearly launched his soul back out of his skull when his torso pivoted two full revolutions independently of the rest of him. That felt absolutely horrifying! But he did note with grim satisfaction that it had done the job nicely. He was now surrounded by dismantled corpses. And a singular hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, running frantically away from him on its nimble fingers.

He grumbled at the sight of not one, but two rune gates. Why so many? Was the king really that worried about corpses getting up and running off?

…..

He supposed it had been a wise and foresighted policy under the circumstances.

Two packs (herds? flocks?) of zombies later, he had both the rune gates open. He groaned at the realization that his only reward was more zombies. He didn't know what he expected. Perhaps he was simply hoping Gallowmere's cemetery wasn't so large. Now that he considered it, he recalled there being a mausoleum somewhere nearby. And more graveyard beyond.

This was going to be a long and painful quest for redemption.

--------------

He lost track of how many zombies he took out. He did get more accustomed to the disconcerting feeling of his ribcage pivoting freely with every swing, but it still made him slightly nauseous to think about too hard. It was good he'd decided to just keep his words to himself. They'd go unappreciated by the zombies, and it would serve as an all-too-painful reminder of his sudden speech impediment.

Around the bend, he caught sight of an angel statue. It seemed mounted to a pivot mechanism, an odd design choice, but that wasn't what really got his attention. On one side of the statue was a golden chalice, locked securely behind a gate. That was also unusual, but it still wasn't what got his attention.

Between the two of them stood a person. Not a zombie, like the rest of them. This was an actual, living, breathing human being. He could tell right away that they were a knight, just based on the massive axe and chain mail he wore. But that was all he could discern before the person charged him, axe raised high overhead.

Oh, right.

He was also a dead thing, wandering about when it shouldn't.

He instinctively raised his shield. The first blow came down so hard it splintered the flimsy copper thing in half and made his left arm go numb. He decided to go for Plan B. He threw himself hard to the left and rolled. He was a little taller than the knight, perhaps he could outrun the guy. This plan was short-lived. With another gate in his way, he couldn't do anything else now but lay down his sword and admit defeat.

"Cowardly little thing, aren't ya?"

"I know when I'm beat."

The knight took a few hurried steps back. If his expression in his visor was anything to go by, he was absolutely shocked by the revelation that this skeleton was intelligent, much less capable of speech. Well. He wasn't sure he considered it "speech", but… close enough, he supposed. The knight lowered his axe and regarded him cautiously.

"Well, then. Why're you back, then? The dead don't walk the earth for nothin'."

Not having a proper answer, he simply offered an exaggerated shrug. The knight set a hand on his hip and leaned in, as if evaluating whether he were telling the truth.

"I'm not inclined to kill things that don't need killin'. So why don't you prove you're not one of Zarok's minions, yeah? Open this gate so I can get at that chalice over there."

He didn't really like being given orders, but he was more than a little partial to not being split in half by a greataxe. So he stood and turned the angel statue to face the gate in question. It opened with a squeak and the knight simply stood a little straighter, as if annoyed that it had been that simple a solution. He decided to show the knight that there were no further traps and went to retrieve the chalice.

Almost immediately, the chalice overflowed with a reddish energy. It coalesced before them into a figure, which very quickly became a recognizable figure.

"Captain Fortesque! It's me, Canny Tim. Does the battle go well?"

He was greatly surprised and pleased to see the young marksman before him. He had missed the lad greatly. It really wasn't fair that he seemed to have died so young. The knight approached in awe.

"Canny Tim, is that really you? I heard you took out Lord Kardok at a thousand yards clean through the eye!"

He grimaced at the mention of such an injury. Unconsciously, he rubbed his dead eyesocket. The specter seemed completely undisturbed.

"Oh! Greetings, milady! You've been quite busy these last few years, haven't you?"

"Milady?"

The knight froze momentarily, startled that Canny Tim was so quick to catch on. After a moment, he removed his helm. A shock of thick, red hair cascaded down from his head… wait, scratch that, her head. This knight was a lady in shining armor!

"Damnit, Tim!"

"Oh! I apologize, I'd assumed you and Dan had already been introduced!"

She looked severely at him, poking an accusatory finger into his face.

"I won't have any of this "milady" nonsense! I'm a knight, same as you, hear me, Fortesque?"

He raised his hands in surrender. He'd fought alongside a woman before, long before Canny Tim was Canny Tim. This wasn't his first joust, so to speak. She turned back to Canny Tim, a look of mild annoyance on her face. For his part, Tim just chuckled nervously before holding out his crossbow for Dan to take.

"Take this, Captain! It's got rapid fire and you can ricochet the darts off walls to shoot around corners. I used it against Lord Kardok!"

He cut Tim off before he could go into detail, fixing him with a stern glare. Tim looked a bit unnerved.

"N-not that there's anything clever about shooting someone in the eye, sir."

"Watch it, you!"

Tim cringed, offered a half-hearted goodbye, and faded from sight, leaving his crossbow behind. The knight just sort of stared while Dan found a comfortable way to carry the new weapon. After a few tense moments of silence, she heaved a great sigh and offered her hand to shake.

"I suppose we're working together on this one, yeah?"

He did his best approximation of a grin and accepted the handshake. Her grip was much stronger than he was expecting and he cringed slightly at the sound of his carpals grating against each other. Mercifully, she let go quickly, perhaps a bit put off by his bony complexion. As one, the two of them strode off through the last section of the graveyard.

Many more zombies lay in their path, but they stood no chance against the combined might of the lady knight and the walking corpse. At the very end stood a gate, covered in the terrible magic residue of Zarok's necromantic aura. The gargoyle in the stonework came briefly to life.

"Tread softly. Zarok awaits beyond these Gates! The master meets with the Demon from the Mausoleum, hatching plots of purest evil. Forgotten nobodies and damsels in distress would be wise to make themselves scarce!"

The two exchanged a look, wordlessly agreed to dance on the grave of whoever gave these pathetic statues such sharp tongues, and prepared to face the next of their trials.

[ask-the-celestial-family]

PRESENT, PRESENT, PRESENT!!!

What is that? -Harvest Moon💕

This, my dear brother, is something I had my computer make when I got home last night. I had the Computer evaluate your injuries and use as much of my tech as possible to make something to counteract any pain that comes from your injuries. -Moon💙

What does it do? -Harvest Moon💕

Well, one of us helps you put this on and there’s a tiny needle in the back that can come out of its sanitizing casing, which can give pain medication if you hurt yourself twisting or moving. The ribcage and side supports will put pressure and keep you upright but will support you if you move around. I can’t make tech to help you move, but I can help you move what you can. -Moon💙

[pioneeroverc-my-5000th-sideblog]

FOUR MONTH ART IMPROVEMENT RATE COMPARISON - May 2023

art block: 2/19 (from 2/19)

personal: 19/19

study/figure drawing sessions: 12/129 days(from 32/105) check numbers on these

Same goals as yearly - absolutely not, I've really fallen off on these. Currently re-evaluating whether these are actually doable

Finish DAB Lesson 7 - no, but I did make good progress on it last month!

1 finished piece with 2pt+ perspective plotted background (or two sketched screenshot studies with same) - I assume this was supposed to be 'per month'… I did five things with actual perspective in the entire four month period but two of them were just sketches and most of them were very plain and undetailed. NO WONDER I'm not getting better at this lol

one screenshot study per month - can focus on any area (perspective, expressions, colours, composition, etc.) - I DIDN'T DO THIS AT ALL

In May, I will have even more mileage drawing hands interacting with things and have experimented with different ways of ideating on composition thumbnails - actually true!Definitely not anywhere near good at drawing hands yet but my 3D sense improving is helping me draw interactions. I tried a few ways of doing thumbnails but nothing has really stuck more than my painful 'just draw a bunch of stuff and try to fit it together afterwards' process. At least I tried

Studies done: FIGUARY, DAB stuff, breakdowns for some random objects I needed to draw, Proko ribcage and shoulder bones, lots of tracing (boot opening contours, heads to see how eyes fit in at 3/4 view, stylised hair/outfit trims to see how different artists do them), one fold study, some form intersections

Ups and downs here, with periods of Good Study interspersed with (more) periods of I Am Too Unmotivated To Do Anything. Whenever I am struggling to draw something, I end up just not drawing anything at all, even stuff that's unrelated and should be fun for me. This is something I really wish I could overcome because it ends up making me more stressed out overall when I have The Thing I've Been Putting Off and then all my other fun ideas AND STUDIES in the back of my head that also feel like they have deadlines on them. I'm still having trouble drawing stuff that isn't a character staring blankly off-screen with a solid colour background.

I started drawing a bunch of fake FEH alts during this period, and although I've really enjoyed designing them and getting to do more in-depth inking and rendering for once, I do feel like my time could be better spent drawing full pieces with backgrounds and, like, any thought for composition (since I'm hitting my skill ceiling with perspective and anatomy in particular for the alts - and the full pieces look 5000x more impressive). I still have a bunch of time-sensitive ideas for them, so I'm really not sure what to do here.

IMPROVEMENT METRICS

Anatomy/gesture: I am CERTAIN that my figure drawing improved because of Figuary but none of my actual finished stuff reflects that… I'm going to say same as last year just because I literally can't tell

Backgrounds/perspective: Much worse than last year lol

Composition/storytelling: Thinking about negative space more and still trying to add supporting elements. Worse than last year though

Colours/values: still having problems with stuff being too dark but also still working on it. Screencap studies could probably help this. Starting to get better at controlling saturation. Actually better than last year! Woo! Not a total failure!

Lighting/rendering: better than last year again, CAN I PLEASE TRADE THIS POWER FOR SOMETHING THAT'S ACTUALLY USEFUL??

PLAN OF ACTION FOR NEXT FOUR MONTHS:

Re-evaluate yearly goals

Finish DAB Lesson 7

one screenshot study per month, focussing on values first

two object studies per month

In September, I will have a better understanding of how the parts of the body fit together and be better at manipulating them, as simplified forms, in 3d space.

[shri-bone-joint-clinic]

Idiopathic Scoliosis Treatment in Chennai – Expert Care at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic

Idiopathic scoliosis is a spinal condition marked by an abnormal, side-to-side curvature of the spine that has no known cause. This form of scoliosis typically develops during adolescence and affects the spine in an “S” or “C” shape. The condition varies in severity, from minor curvatures that may not cause symptoms to severe curvatures that can result in noticeable physical deformities, discomfort, and complications in mobility and overall quality of life. For those in Chennai, Shri Bone & Joint Clinic offers comprehensive treatment for idiopathic scoliosis, combining advanced techniques with compassionate patient care.

Understanding Idiopathic Scoliosis

Idiopathic scoliosis is the most common type of scoliosis, affecting up to 3% of adolescents worldwide. The term “idiopathic” means the exact cause is unknown, though factors like genetics, hormonal changes, and irregular growth patterns in bones and muscles might contribute. Idiopathic scoliosis can affect individuals of any age, but it most commonly appears during adolescence, often between ages 10 and 18, as rapid growth spurts can exacerbate spinal curvature. Though it can impact both boys and girls, the progression of the curve requiring treatment is more common in girls.

Recognizing Symptoms of Idiopathic Scoliosis

Idiopathic scoliosis often goes unnoticed in its early stages because the curvature may be mild and painless. However, as the curve progresses, certain physical signs may become evident:

Uneven Shoulders – One shoulder may appear higher than the other.

Prominent Ribcage or Shoulder Blade – One side of the ribcage may protrude, or a shoulder blade may appear more pronounced.

Asymmetrical Waist and Hips – The waist or hips may look uneven, causing one leg to appear longer than the other.

Tilted Head Alignment – The head may not be aligned with the body.

If left untreated, idiopathic scoliosis can worsen over time, especially during growth spurts, and lead to chronic back pain, limited mobility, and respiratory issues in severe cases. Early detection and treatment are essential for managing the condition effectively.

Diagnosis and Assessment of Idiopathic Scoliosis at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic

At Shri Bone & Joint Clinic in Chennai, idiopathic scoliosis diagnosis begins with a thorough physical examination and patient history. Advanced diagnostic tools, including X-rays, MRI, and CT scans, help to assess the curvature’s severity, measured in degrees using the Cobb angle method. Curves less than 20 degrees are generally considered mild, while those between 20 and 40 degrees are moderate, and curves over 40 degrees are classified as severe.

Dr. Shriram Krishnamoorthy, a board-certified orthopedic surgeon at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic, evaluates each patient’s unique condition to create a personalized treatment plan. This patient-focused approach ensures that each treatment is tailored to the specific needs and goals of the individual.

Treatment Options for Idiopathic Scoliosis at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic

Idiopathic scoliosis treatment varies depending on the curvature’s severity, the patient’s age, and how likely the curve is to progress. Shri Bone & Joint Clinic offers both non-surgical and surgical treatment options, with an emphasis on minimally invasive methods that promote faster recovery and improved outcomes.

1. Observation and Monitoring

For patients with mild curves (less than 20 degrees), regular monitoring may be sufficient. Dr. Shriram Krishnamoorthy recommends observation to ensure that the curve does not worsen. Periodic X-rays and physical exams help to track changes in the spine as the child grows. If the curve remains stable, no additional intervention may be needed.

2. Bracing

Bracing is often prescribed for moderate scoliosis (20-40 degrees) in children and adolescents who are still growing. A custom-fitted brace can prevent the curve from worsening during the growth period, reducing the likelihood of surgery later. The brace is worn for a certain number of hours each day and is tailored to fit each patient comfortably. While bracing cannot correct an existing curve, it is effective at halting progression in many cases.

3. Physical Therapy

Physical therapy can complement other treatments, particularly in milder cases or as part of postoperative care. Therapists at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic focus on strengthening the muscles surrounding the spine, improving posture, and enhancing flexibility. Physical therapy can help alleviate discomfort and improve mobility, allowing patients to maintain a more active lifestyle.

4. Surgical Treatment – Spinal Fusion

For patients with severe scoliosis (curves over 40 degrees) or those whose curves continue to progress despite other treatments, spinal fusion surgery may be necessary. Dr. Shriram Krishnamoorthy performs spinal fusion surgery using minimally invasive techniques whenever possible. The procedure involves fusing the affected vertebrae to straighten the spine and prevent further curvature.

Using state-of-the-art equipment and modern surgical techniques, Dr. Krishnamoorthy ensures that each surgery is precise and effective, minimizing risks and promoting a smoother recovery. This procedure significantly improves posture and relieves discomfort, enabling patients to resume their daily activities with better quality of life.

Why Choose Shri Bone & Joint Clinic for Idiopathic Scoliosis Treatment?

Shri Bone & Joint Clinic in Chennai is recognized for its commitment to providing specialized scoliosis care. Here are a few reasons why patients trust the clinic for scoliosis treatment:

Experienced Specialist: Dr. Shriram Krishnamoorthy has extensive experience in treating scoliosis and spinal deformities, including idiopathic scoliosis. His expertise in spinal fusion and bracing techniques ensures comprehensive and effective treatment plans.

Advanced Diagnostic and Surgical Techniques: The clinic uses cutting-edge diagnostic and surgical equipment, allowing for accurate assessment and minimally invasive surgical options that promote faster recovery.

Patient-Centered Approach: Every patient at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic receives personalized care. From diagnosis to treatment and follow-up, the clinic’s team is dedicated to supporting patients throughout their journey.

Focus on Postoperative Care and Rehabilitation: Postoperative care is a key part of treatment at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic. Dr. Krishnamoorthy and his team work closely with each patient to provide comprehensive rehabilitation, helping them regain strength and mobility for improved long-term results.

Cost of Idiopathic Scoliosis Treatment in Chennai

The cost of idiopathic scoliosis treatment in Chennai can vary depending on the chosen treatment method. Non-surgical treatments, like bracing and physical therapy, typically range from ₹50,000 to ₹1,50,000. For surgical interventions such as spinal fusion, costs can range from ₹2,00,000 to ₹5,00,000. Shri Bone & Joint Clinic offers transparent pricing and flexible options to accommodate various needs.

Leading Scoliosis Care at Shri Bone & Joint Clinic

Shri Bone & Joint Clinic in Chennai is a trusted destination for idiopathic scoliosis treatment. With Dr. Shriram Krishnamoorthy’s expertise and the clinic’s commitment to quality care, patients can expect precise diagnosis, effective treatment, and compassionate support. Whether managing a mild curve with observation or undergoing spinal fusion for a more severe condition, Shri Bone & Joint Clinic offers hope and healing for those living with scoliosis.

[sciencetechnology443]

Mastering the Art of Bra Fitting: Tips for Finding Your Perfect Fit

Finding the perfect bra is an essential yet often overlooked part of a woman’s wardrobe. A well-fitted bra can enhance your comfort, support, and confidence. Unfortunately, many women wear the wrong size or style, leading to discomfort and dissatisfaction. Here are some expert tips to help you master the art of bra size determination and find your perfect fit.

1. Understand the Importance of bra Size Determination

Bra fitting is not just about finding a size that fits; it’s about finding a bra that complements your body shape, lifestyle, and needs. A well-fitted bra can improve posture, reduce back pain, and enhance your overall appearance. Understanding this importance is the first step towards finding your perfect fit.

2. Get Professionally Measured

One of the most effective ways to ensure you are wearing the right size is to get professionally measured. Many bra stores offer complimentary bra size services conducted by trained professionals. These experts can accurately measure your band and cup size, taking into account factors like breast shape and spacing. Regular fittings are recommended, as body changes can affect your bra size over time.

3. Know Your Size and Sister Sizes

Knowing your true bra size is crucial, but understanding sister sizes is equally important. Sister sizes are alternate sizes where the cup volume remains the same, but the band size varies. For instance, if a 34C feels too tight, a 36B might provide a better fit. Familiarize yourself with your sister sizes to increase your chances of finding a comfortable bra.

4. Check the Fit of the Band

The band is the most important part of the bra, providing the majority of the support. It should fit snugly around your ribcage without riding up or digging into your skin. You should be able to fit two fingers under the band comfortably. If the band rides up or feels too loose, it’s a sign that you need a smaller band size.

5. Evaluate the Cups and Straps

The cups should fully encase your breasts without causing spillage or gaping. If your breasts spill out of the cups, you may need a larger cup size. If there is gaping, a smaller cup size might be necessary. The straps should provide support without digging into your shoulders. Adjust the straps to ensure they are not too tight or too loose.

6. Consider Different Styles

Different bra styles offer varying levels of support and comfort. Try on multiple styles, such as full-cup, balconette, and plunge bras, to see which suits your body shape and preferences best. The right style can make a significant difference in how a bra fits and feels.

Final Thoughts

Mastering the art of bra size measurement is essential for finding bras that provide the perfect balance of comfort and support. By understanding the importance of a good fit, getting professionally measured, knowing your size and sister sizes, and evaluating the fit of the band, cups, and straps, you can ensure a better bra dimension experience. Exploring different styles will also help you find the perfect bra for every occasion. Prioritize these tips to enhance your comfort, support, and confidence every day.

[molsons112000]

So there are three different types of skeletal frames, and this governs height and weight. Now also, they have different bone densities within these different skeletal frames, and that factors into weight as well.

The three main body types are endomorph, mesomorph, and ectomorph, and each body type has different skeletal characteristics:

Endomorph

Endomorphs have a triangular bone structure, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, and shorter limbs. They tend to have large bones, wide hips and waist, and softer bodies with curves. Endomorphs can gain muscle during workouts, but their slow metabolism means they're more likely to store fat than build muscle. They also have a higher body fat composition and have more difficulty with weight loss.

Mesomorph

Mesomorphs have a rectangular bone structure, longer limbs, thinner bones, and a flatter ribcage. They tend to have a medium frame, and may develop muscles easily and have more muscle than fat on their bodies. Mesomorphs are typically strong and solid, not overweight or underweight.

Ectomorph

Ectomorphs have a linear physique with light bones, small joints, and slight muscles. They tend to have slender waists, narrow hips and shoulders, and long legs and arms. Ectomorphs tend to be slim, without much body fat or noticeable muscle mass. 

MedicineNet

What's Your Body Type: Ectomorph, Endomorph or Mesomorph?

Mesomorph: This body type is generally considered the ideal body type. Individuals usually look lighter and have a more rectangular bone structure, longer limbs, thinner bones and a flatter ribcage. A mesomorph has a natural tendency to stay fit and achieve muscle mass very easily.

National Institutes of Health (NIH) (.gov)

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pmc

Ethnic differences in bone geometry between White, Black ...

by A Zengin · 2016 · Cited by 66 — Black men had higher aBMD at the whole body, total hip and femoral neck compared to White and South Asian

National Institutes of Health (NIH) (.gov)

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › pmc

Why are there race/ethnic differences in adult body mass ...

by SB Heymsfield · 2016 · Cited by 378 — 2. We found an identical pattern across the three NHANES race/ethnic groups in both the men and

National Institutes of Health (NIH) (.gov)

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › P...

Bone and the regulation of global energy balance - PMC

by Q Zhang · 2015 · Cited by 61 — In vivo studies in several mutant mouse strains have confirmed a link between bone cells and global metabolism, ultimately leading to the identification of ...

Nature

https://www.nature.com › articles

Effects of the energy balance transition on bone mass and ...

by IJ Wallace · 2023 · Cited by 3 — Bone mass and strength are both well documented to be influenced by physical activity, diet, and obesity, making it likely that average mass and ...

NASA (.gov)

https://www.nasa.gov › hhp › bon...

Bone and Mineral Evaluation and Analysis

Jun 20, 2023 — Technology Transfer & Spinoffs ... influence all physiological systems and could be risk factors for bone loss. ... bone density and

So if you allow your bone mass to deteriorate as you age your are going major issues....

What happens when bone density increases?

The higher your peak bone mass, the more bone you have "in the bank" and the less likely you are to develop osteoporosis as you age.

https://www.mayoclinic.org › art-...

Bone health: Tips to keep your bones healthy - Mayo Clinic

Bone density varies in different parts of the body, and high bone density is typically associated with stronger bones, while low bone density may indicate …

https://www.spine-health.com › h...

How to Increase Bone Density | Spine-health

So lacking people in this sedentary, life destroys them. People need to get out and move move. Move as my sister called me midget, michael mighty motors.... Because I was like the energizers, they're Bunny. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go.... Most of my life, four hours of sleep was normal five was a long night....

It is increasingly acknowledged that screen-based activity may also negatively affect bone status, resulting in low bone mineral content (BMC), low bone mineral density (BMD), and osteoporosis (27), since nutrition (including adequate intake of protein, Calcium (Ca), Phosphorus (P), and vitamin D) (28, 29) and physical ...Dec 1, 2021

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov › P...

Screen Time and Bone Status in Children and Adolescents - NCBI