☀ ✬ ☀ ✬ ☀ call me times.
33, queer, they/them. ☀ ✬ ☀ ✬ ☀ my ao3 | my web weaves ☀ ✬ ☀ ✬ ☀ this blog is not safe for work. if you need me to tag something for you, just ask!
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Yay, unsolicited advice time! Or, not really advice, more like miscellaneous tips and tricks, because if there's one thing eight years of martial arts has equipped me to write, it's fight scenes.
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Fun things to add to a fight scene (hand to hand edition)
It's not uncommon for two people to kick at the same time and smack their shins together, or for one person to block a kick with their shin. This is called a shin lock and it HURTS like a BITCH. You can be limping for the rest of the fight if you do it hard enough.
If your character is mean and short, they can block kicks with the tip of their elbow, which hurts the other guy a lot more and them a lot less
Headbutts are a quick way to give yourself a concussion
If a character has had many concussions, they will be easier to knock out. This is called glass jaw.
Bad places to get hit that aren't the groin: solar plexus, liver, back of the head, side of the thigh (a lot of leg kicks aim for this because if it connects, your opponent will be limping)
Give your character a fighting style. It helps establish their personality and physicality. Are they a grappler? Do they prefer kicks or fighting up close? How well trained are they?
Your scalp bleeds a lot and this can get in your eyes, blinding you
If you get hit in the nose, your eyes water
Adrenaline's a hell of a drug. Most of the time, you're not going to know how badly you've been hurt until after the fact
Even with good technique, it's really easy to break toes and fingers
Blocking hurts, dodging doesn't
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Just thought these might be useful! If you want a more comprehensive guide or a weapons edition, feel free to ask. If you want, write how your characters fight in the comments!
“Do it scared” “do it alone” are all great tips, but my biggest takeaway from therapy is do it messy. This is especially true if you’re getting out of a burnout, which I experience often. Literally just do it messy. You don’t need to pick the perfect trail to walk, the perfect playlist to listen to, whatever the fuck it is. You don’t need to have a meticulous to do list and wake up at the exact time you planned and drink the exact amount of water you planned to drink. Like the biggest thing for people like me to remember is sometimes it’s okay to do it messy. Put on a random yt workout and just get it done in sweats. Do 5 minutes of a daunting task and go from there. Sometimes just getting up is a win during intense burnouts or depressive funks. Literally just do it messy.
Boston and Montreal are at the same club. They're at different tables, but they were all sat in the VIP section - it's a little more secluded, offers the facsimile of privacy more than anything - and the Boston boys are loud, loud enough to be heard even over the thumping bassline of the music. Loud enough for Shane to hear them from where he's sitting in the corner of his booth, nursing his drink.
"Okay, best lay. Go."
"Sorry fellas, I'm a gentleman - I don't kiss and tell."
"That means you have nothing to tell, Connors?"
"Suck my fat one, Lenny."
"And become your best lay? Pass."
"For me, it was twins. In Vegas."
"Yeah, their names were right and left, surname hand. Gimme a break."
"Ye of little faith!"
"Ey, there's nothing little about me, bud. Just ask my best lay - Laura Steeler."
"What, the chick from the car commercials?"
"Oh yeah."
"No wonder she was your best lay, Petey - she was the only one of the poor girls you picked up who could act."
Raucous, jeering laughter drowns out Peterson's objections. It doesn't drown out Marleau's voice, clear and sly:
"We all know who Rozanov's best lay is."
Like they'd rehearsed it, the Boston Raider's all cry out in lilting sing-song unison: "Montreal Jane!"
Shane stops breathing. His skin goes hot, then cold, prickling, his hair standing on end. There's no way. He must have heard it wrong, there was no way-
"Now why are you limp dick losers talking about my best girl?"
Shane has to shut his eyes. This is not happening, surely. Ilya Rozanov is not swaggering up to the next table, calling Shane his - his -
"Ayyye, Cap. We were just talking about our top fucks."
"Ah, I see. You all had nothing to offer so you had to talk about my conquests, I understand."
Boos briefly follow.
"No but seriously, Cap. Yours has gotta be Jane, right?"
Rozanov hums, slow, indulgent, like he's savouring something. "Mmmh yes. My Jane."
Some catcalls follow, lurid. Shane's pulse is in his throat, thumping thumping thumping. He stares out into the throng of writhing bodies on the dancefloor, unblinking.
"Yeah okay so you love banging this chick, but that still doesn't answer the question: what was your best fuck with her."
Rozanov's laughter is rolling, incredulous. "This I cannot answer - no, no it is true!" He adds when he's met with crows of denial, "My Jane, she is always surprising me. She is crazy for my cock. You would not understand what this is like, for a girl to want your dick so bad she is biting your belt buckle."
It's like getting shoved in the solar plexus, hard. Boston's jeering rises but it doesn't dim the memory - they hadn't seen each other in weeks, and it was coming off of summer besides, and Shane had felt like he was on fire, like he'd die if he didn't get Rozanov's cock inside him now now right fucking now, and in his desperate rush, mouthing his way across denim, over Rozanov's zipper, he'd clipped his teeth against -
"I call bull. No way she's that easy for it."
"Oh, but she is," Rozanov's voice is inescapable, like he's whispering straight into Shane's ear, "I go to eat her out and I can already work three fingers inside - she opened herself up for me in the shower because she needs it so bad."
That's not fair, Shane thinks dizzily over Boston's whooping, that wasn't the same night as the belt thing.
Ilya is still talking, rapturous now:
"- but it does not matter if she does not open herself up before I get there because the way this girl gets wet for me? Oh my god, she is like - like faucet, just dripping, always, making a mess in her little panties -"
And suddenly Shane is standing, uncaring if the movement is obvious through the dim lights of the club. He's weaving, stumbling his way to the bathroom. Jesus, people probably think he's wasted what with the way he's walking, but he doesn't care, he doesn't care about anything apart from getting behind a locked stall door right fucking now.
When the lock clicks shut, Shane is scrambling for his pants. He's so hard he's throbbing, hot to touch. And he's - he's dripping, all down his shaft, down to his fucking balls, making a mess of his -
Panties, Shane hears in Rozanov's indolent drawl, and he puts his fist in his mouth and bites down, hard.
It's enough to muffle his noises, if not the shwick shwick shwick of his hand jacking his cock.
It's enough so that he doesn't miss the door handle of the bathroom turning.
Shane's hand doesn't (can't) stop working, neck arching as it flies over his dick, but he's not worried, not really.
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A daily game that challenges our understanding of human cultures. Ten objects. 5,000 years of human history. Guess where and when each artif
An interesting game where you are presented with 10 artifacts from the MET. You have to place where the artifact is from and what time period it is from. Each artifact scores up to 10,000 points, and you lose points the further away your guess is and how far off in time you are. You can only play once a day. Thanks to @baebeylik for showing this to me.
Today I scored really well. Yesterday ... not so much.
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I thought I might share one of my new tattoos. A couple years ago, a dear friend and I coined the term “fish bag moment”
A fish bag moment might be sitting all alone in an empty new apartment after coming out and upending your life, or starting a new job in a brand new line of work because it’s closer to your dreams
It’s what happens when you take a leap of faith or make a hard decision for yourself, when the future is so hard to visualize and everything feels scary. You’re just a fish in a bag and you can’t see where you’re going
It didn’t just survive the kiln, it thrived ❤️ to anyone out there who needs to hear it right now, rest assured: even if the path forward seems unclear, you’re on your way, and I’m proud of you
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They also specifically contacted members of the leather community, used them as models iirc, and donated $100k to Outright International. They talked the talk and walked the walk and put their money on it too. I don't really care that I can't afford and don't want this merch, I love to see my community getting the respect it deserves. Levi's said, "We make jeans which gays wear lots of jeans? Oh leather daddies? Let's call them."
I think Levi's donates to Outreach International every year too, as well as sponsoring pride events and other community support. They were offering Same Sex domestic partner benefits to employees in the 90s, and have been very public about their support for pro-lgbt legislation all through the 2000s.
So, you know, a giant corporation that walks the walk pretty consistently.
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Thinking about 30-50 feral hogs again. Can you imagine the majesty. Murmurating like starlings. Elaborate emergent shapes. The deafening snuffling. They pass through a corn field leaving only rubble behind. And the danger! Don't get too close! It's electric. we have only begun to conceive of the hog
Reading about the destruction at Hiroshima is enough to make despise the entire apparatus of war and the people now glorying in it. Fuck the merchants of death who grow rich off of human misery on an unimaginable scale; fuck the petty warlords like Putin, Trump, Hegseth, Netanyahu who need to murder innocent people to prove their pitiful manhoods; fuck the people who enlist to go off to murder people for career advancement; fuck the people who make it out to be some daring adventure, some way to show their heroism; fucking the writers and filmmakers and game designers who revel in it, and glorify it, and make it safe and normal and fun.
stay afraid, but do it anyway @thetimesinbetween - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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