Not average, but not quite awesome

[ID: Two Heated Rivalry screenshots of Ilya looking into the distance with an emptiness behind his eyes. In the first he is at the All-Stars press conference, and the second he is at practice for the Junior’s World Championships. End ID]

im absolutely screaming not the princes in the tower

I need my weird alone time or I will explode

Spock Prime’s line of “How did you find me?” has got to be the line of all time. Like ohhh wow he thought he found him. Because of course he did. Whatever.

As summer is approaching, I’d like to remind everyone that you are not entitled to ask someone to cover up their scars, self inflicted or not. I don’t care if they’re big, I don’t care if they’re noticeable, or purple, or all over their body, or what. You can’t police people’s bodies.

This also goes for my friends with feeding tubes, ostomy bags, central lines and urinary catheters. People are allowed exist in bodies that stray from the expected norm.

mens professional ice hockey is truly THEE losergirl sport. obsessively physical. sweat everywhere. intricate superstition rituals and blood sacrifices to gods who can't hear or don't care. hating your father. eating like your mother. going into the gladiator arena every night literally green with envy that everyone else is somehow faster and smarter and better than you. getting that one lame little gametime win-- arm cocked back and firing like a sniper, gunpowder on your stick, artificial windchill biting the back of your neck as your man collects your pass, landing the dirtiest filthiest most teeth grinding hit-- and suddenly a friendly face wearing familiar colors is crashing into your arms and licking your cheek and calling you a beauty. you're beautiful. holy shit. you're really beautiful.