#strong hand
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Let me use my strong hand.
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Grip strength. Stone lifting.
#stone lifting#grip#grip training#grip strength#stone#stones#old time strongman#old time strongmen#strongman#strongmen#grip strength training#strong#strong hands#strong hand#power#strength training#strength sports#strength sport#training#sport#sports#sport photography#sports photography#me#trainings photo#trainings photos#photography#photo#photos#picture
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arcane season 2 spoilers
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"Can you feel anything?"
Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet.
It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you.
And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood.
He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense.
It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold.
Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to.
Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive.
Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty.
Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away.
Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it.
Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures.
Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.
So, he takes a chance.
Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does.
His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it.
Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense.
Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more.
Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything?
"Vik?"
Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home.
"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone.
The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference.
This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation.
What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to?
He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere?
There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you.
Can you feel anything?
Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?"
#assorted thoughts about purple viktor because I have the strong urge to put my hands all over him#can you tell im distracting myself from the horrors#viktor x reader#viktor x you#arcane x reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor arcane
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Your reminder to Click for Palestine today!
And/or donate directly to the UNRWA if you have the means!
#unrwa#unrwafunding#DonateToUNRWA#united nations relief and works agency for palestine refugees in the near east#end israeli occupation#colonialism#colonizers#make a difference in the world#how to make a difference#humanitarian assistance#humanitarianism#WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED#palestine is under attack#palestine is a country#palestine is strong#palestine israel war#lend a hand#how to help palestine#palestinian protest#take action#arab.org#UNWRA#daily reminder#palestine israel conflict#help gaza#colonization#make a difference#how to help#humanitarian aid#humanitarian crisis
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i missed MMs 3 year anniversary...........
here's the spontaneous illustration i did in a couple of sittings cause i wanted to paint a spooky thing with a background lol
#my hands are cold and shaking as i tag hamish on insta#midnight mass#father paul hill#hyperfixation still going strong#illustration#artists on tumblr#digital art#flanaverse#mike flanagan#hamish linklater#this is the last mm fan art i swear#<- thats probably a lie
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yuuji smiling and sukuna making a face like That did u really think i wouldn't do a panel redraw
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#yuji itadori#ryoumen sukuna#fanart#jjk fanart#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#jjk leaks#jjk 264#yuuji#sukuna#god sukuna's face is so priceless he rly does look like a cat at the vet#AND I MISSED HAPPY YUUJI i would read a compilation of every panel of smiling yuuji in a heartbeat#i also missed pink sukuna :') no context n u can almost pretend we r back in the good old days#anyway i debated adding text 2 this because to me it looks like Let's Take Ibuprofen Together#and since thats Sukuna's Thing (tm) i feel like theres a joke 2 b made there with yuuji saying it 2 him#but i decided against it smtimes simple is best#ok my hand is actually showing signs of overuse im done fr the day i PROMIS E FHFJSFJJ#it's just the meat of the palm pinky side and not the wrist so thats a good sign#ill probably b better tmr . no rest fr the wicked stay strong girl
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Went to a masquerade ball and danced with a charming butch, but she left hurriedly at midnight, muttering excuses about waking up early to build a deck. I've been searching the lands for her ever since with this massive carabiner she dropped...
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I think if I could be the kind stranger in someone’s memory, that’d be enough.
#sometimes I really sit and think about how much impact the sweet strangers in my life have had on me#thatve helped me keep going without ever knowing just how fucking miserable I was before them#like how can I ever repay the family that drew pictures and left them at my door as an apology for all the noise#the man who held the train door for me even after I slowed down bc I didn’t think I’d make it#the girl who held my hand at the beach because the waves were too strong for both of us to stand on our own#the nurse that charged my phone when I was at the hospital#like????#humans are good actually#hopecore#hopepunk#the indomitable human spirit
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There are two schools of thought on the locked tomb series; there are the people who took tazmuir at her word when she said gideon had a longsword and drew it as such; then there are the people who know what a longsword is and know that the thing gideon swings is at the bare minimum a fucking claymore.
#the locked tomb#tlt#gideon nav#that bitch is long and strong and broad as hell thats some type of fucking greatsword#a longsword is not that far off in weigt or length from a rapier#and you can generally one hand a longsword if you want to#whatever griddles packin is Big#not zweihander big#but big#im saying claymore in size#not necessarily in style tho
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Bruce Wayne, in public as Brucie, has a weak and tepid handshake in order to both evoke dislike in the handshake partner and to lessen chances of someone detecting his calluses and above-average grip strength. in this essay I will—
#thoughts#‘wow you’ve got a firm handshake’ are words that have never been said about Brucie lol#bruce wayne#batman#dc#Brucie Wayne#Gotham#shaking his hand isn’t fun#but if you get a real handshake from him? like Clark does?#it’s firm and strong and kinda wild#his hands are CALLUSED#one big callus lol
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tumblr should have a pin comment button but shoutout to this one <3
#my man is a softie but not weak#xie lian is so strong and powerful in so many ways I'll fight anyone who pushes that weak naive bottom stereotype on him#like THIS IS THE MAN WHO HAS BLOOD ON HIS HAND#and a certain ghost king finds it super hot so#win win#tgcf#xie lian#tian guan ci fu#san lang#hualian#mxtx#heaven officials blessing#danmei#hua cheng#heaven official's blessing
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** the last two options exist because I know there will be great debate about which Three Days Grace/Linkin Park song should be on here
#polls#discussion#for me it's absolutely Every time we touch and animal I have become#hands down#also if you watched Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy AMVs there's a strong chance you saw my youtube channel at some point if it was pre2011#I had a bunch of videos with a few thousand views a piece :)#I did naruto later on too but kh/ff was more niche
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Reminder to Click for Palestine today!
Thank you for your aid!
#world politics#humanitarian crisis#human rights#help how you can#help gaza#WE WILL NOT BE SILENCED#palestine israel conflict#palestine is under attack#palestine is a country#palestine is strong#palestine israel war#lend a hand#how to help palestine#palestinian protest#take action#palestine#arab.org#UNRWA#daily reminder#free palestine#support palestine#ceasefire now#free gaza#gaza strip#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#don't stop talking about palestine#pro palestine#help palestine#anti zionism#israeli occupation
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sad: falling out of a hyperfixation
tragic: watching your beloved friends and mutuals fall out of the hyperfixation while you're still in it
#oughhhhhhh#this is about the dca fandom but also about every other strong fixation ive had over the years lol#i know it's normal and inevitable esp for less popular works or minor characters with little canon content#and there's nothing wrong with smaller communities of course those rock#but there’s just something special about getting into something at the same time as a lot of other people all at once#and existing in this chaotic fandom space that's just bursting with creativity and passion#i've been in fandom spaces for as long as some of you have been alive and i've only come across that sort of unbridled joy like#a handful of times at best#it's just a heartbreaking feeling to see real lightning in a jar fandoms like that wither away as people drift away#(understandably so!)#anyway don't mind me i'm just having thoughts#musing about fandoms past as well#that i too eventually moved on from but remember fondly even if im not active in anymore#also my music just aint hitting right so im just sitting in silence which makes me more Contemplative(tm)
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