#hide the rib

[fivewholeminutes]

Sulfur on your breath

Granite in my chest

Photos under the cut

Listen, I know the lyrics refer to sulfur's smell, but you can't just put two crystal/rock names next to each other and expect my crystal/rock loving ass to do nothing about it

The original idea did not include a box at all, but since we have one anyway, I am thrilled to inform you that i've accidentally chosen a box in which a package with minerals and rocks came to me, so the box went full circle and it's such a fitting thing for a sleep token fanart that i've literally freaked out when i've realised that

me @ the box: get euclided, idiot

#ok this thing has been sitting in drafts for way too long #anyways the whole thing is dumb!! and imperfect!! but i've had SO much fun making it i don't remember the last time art made me this happy #i chose the most scrumptious piece of granite i could find for this piece and the ribs are hiding the best parts of it :( #(someone please ask me about the journey of me becoming obsessed with granite [the rock] after i've got this idea a few months ago) #sleep token #sleep token fanart #alex vs the mortifying ordeal of having her art perceived

[billford-dump]

Ford comes out of the Portal bony and tired and dehydrated. He’s strong and tough and every part of him is ready to fight but he’s not healthy, he’s just surviving.

He starts to properly gain weight after Weirdmageddon, when he’s finally done running and he can start convincing himself to relax. Stan drags him away from his work when he goes too long without a break, buys little snacks with a long shelf-life for Ford to squirrel away in the house or on their boat, lets him hide guns alongside the bats that Stan has scattered around just in case.

Food and water stops being a commodity, something to be hoarded and rationed and planned around. He doesn’t have to stay aware of his surroundings even when he’s asleep because little noises in the night are no longer threats, they’re just his brother moving around and cursing when he stubs his toe in the dark. Hypervigilance slowly fades into the background, only emerging on bad days when he needs the comfortable weight of a weapon and food on his person at all times, and even those bad days become less and less common as time goes on and no threat appears.

---

Ford isn’t surviving now. He’s living. He has soft edges and smiles and no bags under his eyes, he has his family, his brother, and really that’s all he ever needed.

He’s happy.

#ptsd #ford pines #fords portal times #gravity falls #chubby ford my beloved #he realizes he cant see his ribs any more and hes so happy #so proud of himself for slowly getting better after the portal #stan hides bats around the house for if anyone from his criminal past tracks him down #i forget where i picked up that headcanon from since it was several years ago but if anyone knows please tell me so i can credit them #because that is an amazing take and i love it

[olliesneweyes]

Guess who made a sequel to his Emil redesign! All self indulgent stuff! Also it's ok to tag as kin/me/ect :D

#identity v #idv #luca balsa #idv prisoner #identity v prisoner #featuring: #a cravat like he had in that one shot of his trailer #not a prison jumpsuit because i feel like he wouldn't want to be reminded of that time? and unlike Emil he remembers his life before #*chanting* LICHTENBERG SCARS LICHTENBERG SCAR— #the rib-like details on his shoulder are wires attached to his chain so he can shock people #but yeah generally this was more Vibes #also i kept his weird strap things because I feel like they're for pressure and stuff #i should have added more bruises actually #and scars #but maybe he's just hiding them

[skyward-floored]

Hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking, idk if it’s been mentioned before but for IAU, Sky has wings, so I was wondering how does he keep them hidden when he walks around in public? (If he does hide them, I’m assuming he does)

I don’t mind at all! I believe I’ve mentioned it once or twice, but not in a while, so no worries.

The explanation is sort of shoehorned, but it was sort of the only way I could figure it would work for him to actually keep them hidden— Sky can actually retract his wings in so they’re not visible, apart from some marks on his back.

(Even Sky doesn’t know how exactly it works though, so don’t ask him XD)

It’s uncomfortable for him to do it for a long time though, and if he did it too long it would actually be detrimental for his wings, so if he’s at home he pretty much always leaves them out. You wouldn’t believe the number of shirts he ripped when he was smaller because he suddenly popped his wings out without thinking. Most of his shirts now have holes cut in them (though he still rips them on occasion heh).

#maybe it’s kinda like the thing those one type of lizards do #where they like extend their ribs and glide with them #...idk XD #either way I didn’t want poor Sky to have to constantly bundle his wings up in order to hide them #so I gave him a bit of an easier way out #I give him a hard enough time in this au I gotta give him breaks sometimes XD #answers from the floor #lovely wizard finix #Incredibles au

[bakerstmel]

Fall Favorite Fic Festival, Entry 3

I’m not putting any pressure on myself to post these daily, just as the spirit moves. In case you’ve been keeping score or something.

This entry includes my absolute favorite love declaration of all time in any media of any kind anywhere. It also gives me an excuse to talk about narrative distance, so a double win for me!

the thunder beneath his ribs, by darcylindbergh

Darcylindbergh writes lyrically, as in their works are word music. They play with language to great effect, and as someone who pathetically paws at that kind of thing from time to time, I have the greatest respect for their efforts.

(This one got long, so I'm getting all fancy and installing a cut. The love declaration is at the bottom of the post.)

I'm talking about this kind of thing, the opening paragraph (blue text is darcylindbergh throughout this post):

The slap of feet echoes against the pavement, nearly drowned out by the crash of thunder and heavy rainfall. Neon lights glint off wet concrete, turn the night into a kaleidoscopic circus of noise and heat and confusion, and John twists into it, gets lost in it, running fast, breathing hard, elbows in, focus.

And just like that, we are running, and we are in the rain, and more than that, we are running in the city in the rain, and more than that, we are in John's head like we have a regular table there. We are agitated, anxious, scared- we know John is a veteran, and if we don't, that's about to become clear in other ways-and it's all via rhythm and word choice.

You can do that sort of thing directly, and it can also work:

It was a thousand year rain, the kind of rain London hadn't seen since six months prior. John had always thought of rain as cold, growing up in the council flats, but this was hot, steamy, the kind of rain that felt like a hiss, like a slap, like a bullet. It was hard to breathe in rain like this, hard to keep his terror under control, but it didn't matter; he had to keep moving, keep running, keep up.

That's just me screwing around, but I hope you can see the difference--Darcy leans into the rhythm of the running, TWISTS into it, GETS LOST in it, running FAST, breathing HARD. It's elevated language. This can cause issues, in that artistry can feel more formal. I would argue that's likely intentional here, because darcylindbergh is a master of narrative distance. In this case, we are swept along in this steamy rain, physically close to the characters and in John's head but lacking the full access pass. Part of this is that John is fully in this moment and not thinking about anything else, and Darcy is using the rhythm of this language to tell us that without having to tell us that. This kind of attention to detail allows a good writer to craft a world in 5,700 words and have it ring true.

Anyone who talks writing with me ends up hearing a rant about POV. First person, third person, third person close, it all has to do with how much we know. Right? And I feel as though it's pretty standard in fic to write a close third, since fic is above all a character driven genre, but in general, the best writing swoops in and out. You pull back and get the lay of the land, dive in to feel the tension and see the eye twitches, and then pull back up to learn the history of why the land matters in the first place. Like so:

Around them, London carries on, oblivious: the rush of steam from cheap late-night restaurants, the splash of cabs through puddles growing in the streets, the smell of soaked skips and dirty bodies infiltrating the labyrinthine alleys Sherlock leads them through.

A bit later:

John had walked these streets once and thought nothing of it. He’d been to the pubs and the post offices, the Tescos and the Bootses, in the backs of cabs and on the Tube, and scarcely gave it any consideration.

Now he’s constantly looking over his shoulder, skin crawling and mind prickling with the possibility of being watched or followed. Dangerous has lost its slick attraction.

If this were a screenplay, and that was camera direction, we'd start from an overhead shot and then draw in down a city street, Baker Street maybe, with the tube station and that Boots right there by Marylebone, and then settle on John's anxious face as he glances behind him. Likely, then, we'd pull back a bit to show John behind Sherlock, closing the distance, getting ready for what happens next.

OK, I know no one is reading all this. I've gone a bit meta-mad. I just like writing that makes me smarter, and this fic does that. Even after all this time, the breadth and quality of the writing of this fandom in general just knocks me out.

Anyway, I promised a love declaration.

"I’m going to love you now,” John says. “I’m going to love you the way I’ve tried not to since the very beginning. I’m going to love with you every single cell of me and every single breath, and I will follow you until you tell me to stop and then wait for you to come back, and when I die I’m going to die with your name imprinted on my very bones with how much and how hard and how long I’ve loved you.”

Across the pillows, Sherlock blinks. He takes a tiny breath that doesn’t seem to make it past his lips and blinks again.

Then he takes John’s hands in his own and studies them, as though looking for some proof written in John’s lifelines, and he presses a kiss down into John’s palm. “Okay,” he breathes, damp and warm. He kisses John’s other palm. “Okay.”

And you know what's crazy? Those aren't even the best lines in this fucking thing. This is the best line:

Sherlock offers John his cuffs.

I mean, for fuck's sake (in the best possible way).

#fall favorite fic festival #the thunder beneath his ribs #darcylindbergh #FFFF3 #Ugh I'm not even getting into all the imagery with the water and the cold #Or the whole part where john hides sherlock's body against the wall with his own because half of his brain is in afghanistan #and the way the author throws away a comment about a wartime romance bc we're so far in john's head at that point we don't need details #and the fact that this is tagged as PWP

[rrain-writes]

Rain's LU Febuwhump: Day 7

Suffering in Silence: Hyrule

Warnings: Broken ribs, difficulty breathing, hiding injuries

Art

Hyrule was the healer of the group. The medic. He took care of everyone whenever they got hurt. When ever they needed it. Always.

And yeah, sometimes Hyrule might accidentally forget about some minor injuries. No biggie. As long as his brothers were ok, that was all that mattered.

-

The fight that day wasn’t different to any other one. It was going well at least, until a lucky boko managed catch Hyrule off guard and give him a good wack with its club.

“Hyrule!”

Huh. That was Legend. He was standing in front of where Hyrule lay dazed on the ground, shoving his sword through the boko’s stomach. The monster gave a questioning grunt before disappearing in a dark cloud.

“You right ‘Rulie?” Legend asked.

Hyrule nodded and stood, trying to ignore the world spinning around him.

“Is everyone else ok?”

“A couple scrapes, nothing to bad. You sure your good?”

Hyrule forced a smile. His chest was a bit sore, but he’d check it out later. The others were his number one priority.

A bit a healing magic and some potions later, everyone was back on their feet.

“We’ll set up camp over there.” Someone said. It sounded like they were speaking through water. Was that Time talking?

“‘Rule?” Wild asked?

“Hm?” When had Wild gotten there?

“Your looking a bit pale. Are you ok?”

Hyrule waved him off. “I’m fine. Come on, we’re lagging behind.”

Wild grinned. “Race you.” He said, before taking off towards the rest of the chain.

Well shit.

Hyrule raced after him, gritting his teeth at the gritty sensation in his chest. It burned when he breathed, but he would be fine as soon as they got to camp.

-

He wasn’t fine. Breathing felt like agony, and he hid his coughs as they tried to crawl up his throat.

“Going to the loo!” He chimed, before limping off towards the trees. No one spared him a second glance.

One he was out of sight of the camp, Hyrule eased his shirt up to look at his chest. It was already bruised pretty badly, and felt tender when he touched his fingers to it.

A red potion should heal it fine.

…double shit.

Hyrule had forgotten to bring a red potion with him.

Maybe he could just use his magic to heal himself? It would be a bit different to healing someone else but it would be fine, right?

Nopenopenopegobackreversebackundo.

Ow.

Hyrule sucked in a breath, which in turn made the burning in his chest flare up again. The others would be wondering where he was soon, so he should probably head back to camp.

His injuries decided against that. When he tried to stand, his ribs protested, making sure that he definitely knew they were there. It was harder to breathe now too. If Hyrule had to describe it, it felt like a moblin was sitting on his chest. A very heavy one.

Trying to breathe made the pain spike again. He’d get up in a second. Maybe two. He’d get up…

-

“Hey, has anyone seen where Hyrule went?” Wind asked.

“I think he went to piss.” Legend replied, not looking up from where he was cleaning his sword.

Wild looked over, brow furrowed. “Wasn’t that half an hour ago?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing.

“Wind, Sky, Wild. Stay here and make sure no monsters stumble upon the camp. The rest of us will go look for him.”

-

Hyrule opened his eyes blearily.

“Thank the goddess’s we found you.”

“Twi?” He mumbled.

“You absolute idiot! Why were you hiding injuries from us?!”

Ah, that was definitely Legend.

“Come on kid,” Time said, carefully lifting the younger hero. “Let’s get you back to camp.”

“And don’t ever hide injuries like that from us again you ass!”

#fan fiction #linked universe #lu #hyrule #lu hyrule #suffering in silence #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday7 #hiding injuries #broken ribs #difficulty breathing #Rain's LU Febuwhump

[bonestrouslingbones]

i've got ecto bodies on the brain today and my god why must some really good potentional for some really good visual storytelling be stuck in such an inherently stupid concept

#i've never hated ecto for the record but . i must acknowledge that its really fucking stupid lmao #UNFORTUNATELY. all of my skeletons have different body types and i cant really show that with bones can i #currently im thinking about how edge would probably like being nude with ecto rather than just bones bc ecto hides scars better #however russ would like just bare bones more because ecto makes it way more obvious how thin he's gotten #and stretch would have a little belly as a treat. a primordial pouch like the catboy he is #i'll admit i want to draw them a little . however my roommate is not leaving for winter break til tomorrow 😔 #EDIT I FORGOT OT MENTION KARMA'S MASTECTOMY SCARS............. #I DONT REALLY LIKE WHEN ECTO COVERS THE RIBS BUT . HE DESERVES THOSE :(

[timetohurt]

Looks like you´re screwed

let’s talk about nails

—————————————-

i’ve read this piece from @painsandconfusion and my evil walnut sized brain was like: idea

cw: nails, screws, needles inside body, broken ribs, broken kneecaps, blood, nail gun, begging, impalement, mild gore

• whumper taking a hammer and hammering nails (or needles) into whumpees thighs, or taking one nail and hammering it into whumpees ribs, taking it out after each rib, breaking them one by one, whumpee can’t take one breath without their whole chest hurting, the blood running over their torso (and maybe into their lungs if they take a long nail, coughing up blood?), the screams with every nail

• alternatively hammering nails into whumpees kneecaps or just smashing them without nails

• alternatively whumper taking a screwdriver and driving screws into whumpees thighs, each more painful than the last

• nail guns, shoots nails inside body parts, easy concept, much hurt, less work, also no blood because the nails are stuck very tightly into the skin, but after pulling them out, the blood would be oozing out of the wounds

• hammering nails through their hands, to pin them to the wall or to the floor

• restrained whumpee begging whumper to please take the nails out, whumper leaving them in, with every move whumpee feels the nails painfully shift

• whumper doing acupuncture with a hammer and needles, relishing in whumpees pain saying “i’ve seen people doing it in movies. are you relaxed yet, whumpee?”

• maybe infection if unclean, rusty nails are used

please add more if you have more ideas in mind, anyhoo, nails = good, i always like to see it.

@whumblr you might be into this

#whump #whump community #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpblr #nails #needles #screws #might i add: whumper hiding nails behind his back and revealing them then asking whumpee to count them #then after whumper is done with the nails the whumpee thinks it’s finally over only for whumper to pull and hold up 10 more #broken ribs #broken kneecaps #nail gun #sorry if this has been done before #impalement

[russilton]

What I would do for an Alex, lily, George and Lewis double date

I would be so excited I’d probably hit post limit for the first time in my entire life. The four of them… I would break my phone with the force I’d wail it into a wall.

If you throw in Carmen I think I’d simply cease existing. I wouldn’t die, I would just simply ascend to a higher plain. A new existence, straight ticket to heaven.

#asks #anonymous #I didn’t originally read the Lewis in this ask in my notifs and was unenthused #but gewis Lily Alex double date? incredible #George would go so red his face would blush permanently at the way he would be teased and prodded lovingly #it’s probably his heaven to be smushed between all his favourite people being ribbed and heckled #that kinda red where he looks drunk on it all #leaning into Lewis’ shoulder as he hiccups through laughs while Alex recounts stories from when they were younger #hiding his nose in his shirt when Lewis returns with stories that show Alex George isn’t all doom and gloom at work #Lily telling Lewis all the odd best friend shit they get up to #god #fuckin delightful idea #mark talks britcedes

[diogoatjota]

No but when i finally decide on where ill put YNWA on my body... U guys will be the first to know

#maybe i should do a poll... im thinking on the side of my ribs because its easy to hide etc... but i kinda want to see it often </3 #i thought also inner wrist.... side of thigh... im not sure :( #sham!s rambles

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

RE: UR TAGS. BUSTS INTO UR INBOX. HELLO. DO YOU HAVE TIME TO TALK ABOUT HFTH. ok ok here's my pitch. to be clear: i'm only like, four episodes in. also i was autism hook line and sinkered by episode two. possibly the fastest i've ever latched onto a piece of media? not letting go any time soon. anyway. style wise: i'd say hfth is tonally a descendent of the best parts of both wtnv and tma. the narration is reminiscent that very strange, gentle kindness that's the hallmark of night vale-- there's a lot of that sweet melancholy that permeates wtnv & the rhythm n style of the prose is a lot like that-- strange + offputting but somehow handling everything so softly and carefully, if that makes sense? + there is also a LOT so far of. Big Fucked up Beasts and Horrors & Fucked Up Woods & freaky shit reminiscent of a lot of tma's horror. structurally: theres some kinda Being whos the narrator! there's like, at least eight different storylines & important characters going on who i assume will be swiftly tangled together!! there's worldbuilding breadcrumbs!! theres an evil corporation whos trying to scrape ur brainwaves for advertising data!! its extremely fucking pointed a lot & its good!!

also it's an explicitly & textually queer story. there's a fuckload of trans n queer characters. like. a LOT. many of the main important ones are explicitly trans n nonbinary n gnc. which is. kind of healing tbh? nevr realized i needed it but oh my god u will not believe how much hearing multiple characters often n easily referred to w/ they/them pronouns. (creator is nb too :])

anyway. the protagonist (guy i drew hehe) is diggory graves, bearer of a viciously spiked jacket and long, blackened claws. they know three things: first, that their name is diggory graves. second, that they are dead. and third, that they are looking for something. they are very kind and very confused most of the time, so far.

anyway i'll leave u with this segment of transcript :]]]] <333

OHHH FUCK????? OH GOD OH FUCK OH SHIT?????? THAT SOUNDS INCREDIBLE???????? AND IT HAS THE ROSWELL DANCINGREVOLVER SEAL OF APPROVAL???? ohhhhh my god. nb protagonist thats undead(?) and presumably some sort of creature. oh theyre just like me fr. incrdible. ok. youve convinced me .

#I AM NOT IMMUNE TO LGBT HORROR. #HI MY NAMES MAC AND I LIKE HORROR AND GAY PEOPLE!!!!!!!! #ALSO THAT TRANSCRUPT BIT????? roswell u little rat u knew i would fall for water imagery. #insert i know what you are dog meme but its you looking directly at me when choosing that bit to screenshot #jealous of dylan whoever he is. god i wish that were me. that sounds so comfy. let my ribs become hiding places for eels and little fish. #GOD #ok. ive fallen for the propaganda. i DO have a big embroidery project i need to finish this week. ok. maybe i will do that #asks #friends!!! #dancingrevolver #ros i almost called u roswell numberstati0n bc that is instinct to me atp but u havent had that url for so long HFHFHDJS #hfth

[pochapal]

this "everybody bullies battler" scene definitely feels like a microcosm of the ushiromiya psychology

#umineko liveblog #ep1 reread #in that rosa mocks with plausible deniability #rudolf openly goes for the jugular #eva steps it up a notch after seeing that this is a socially acceptable thing to do #kyrie sides with the will of the majority #and hideyoshi tries and fails to hide his own amusement #one curious thing is that george is the one to stick up for battler even though you'd think it'd be in his interests to emulate the ribbing #a la kyrie who i get the sense acts in a way that both benefits herself and meets others expectations of her #but george's relationship with battler is one of those things still tied to George The Child and george still has some morals so #idk it's just interesting in that a lot of the behavior mirrors the gold argument and also potentially the murders #or maybe i am literally just saying things. who is to say!

[ziracona]

“Clark! I came as soon as I heard. Are you alright?”

“Yeah I feel just great. Why don’t we go out to the parking lot, and you can hit me with your car.”

*screaming*

#smallville #good day for Clark comebacks too. for context Lex was finally like ‘ok I know you’ve got powers please just tell me the truth. I definitely #hit you with my car and you dove in and ripped the roof off my car and saved me when we met. pelase just tell me the truth you’re my friend #you don’t have to hide anything from me.’ and Clark (lost powers for length of episode) was like ‘I did NOT. here hit me with a hammer I’ll #show you’ and Lex was like ‘I’m not going to slam you in the chest w a hammer Clark just tell me.’ and Clark was like >:-( and left and then #broke a bunch of ribs later and was at the hospital and Lex ran over to see how he was & he was like ‘omg Clark I just heard that guy #attacked you are you ok???’ (as clark is limping out the hospital) and Clark’s /immediate/ deadpan no hesitation response is that line #one-shot fkn killed Alexander Luthor on the spot #(they’re fine they made up in 8 seconds but Clark played those lie cards well)

[morhath]

I just re-read You Feel It Just Below the Ribs and was very worried it wouldn't hold up on a second read and that I wouldn't love it as much as I did the first time. I did not need to worry.

#I am writing this post in a calm tone of voice only to hide how unhinged that book makes me #genuinely one of the best books I've read all year #I should really listen to Within The Wires one of these days but I'm not a big podcast person #life #reading #books #you feel it just below the ribs

[wander-over-the-words]

My favourite thing about shipping my courier with Benny is that I get equal amount of happiness from writing them as enemies as I do writing them as lovers

#wandering over the words #Benny/Ethan #when they hate each other they're incredibly snarky #and Ethan especially does not hide that he finds Benny. a fucking annoyance at /best/ ngrngnr #never in a worse mood than when he's around Benny #and their history is very much. there lmao #when they're friends they're still snarky but now it's like on-off playful ribbing #and they're moving passed their history #when they're together the snarkiness is pretty much flirting #and their history - as history tends to be - is in the past #(well mostly. cause hey Ethan's still got brain damage. #and yeah Benny that's all your fault lmao)

[oldsimplelvl]

Big legs, tiny waist

#pls ignore the ribs #i forgot to hide them