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tiger-in-the-flightdeck · 11 months

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Hmm. I think I need to take a break from sewing for a bit...

It took me 10 minutes to dismantle the sewing machine to get the needle unattached. The tightening screw did NOT want to come loose. I really thought I was going to have to bring the whole machine with me to the emergency room.

X-ray, tetanus shot, and local anaesthetic (which, fun fact, are not very effective with me...) and the medical assistant had a really hard time pulling it out.

And I kept fucking stabbing myself with the sharp end, so I'm covered in teeny tiny scratches and punctures.

How was your day?

#tiger talks #injury #injuries #needles #finger trauma #hospital selfie #puncture #puncture injury #wound #wounds #puncture wound

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dmitriyuriev · 1 year

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My 2022 summary of art! You can see how quickly I became obsessed with Mohg/Miquella after the release of Elden Ring. I think this was a good year for me, I tried a lot of bigger pieces (and still have one in progress that I won’t finish in time, but hopefully next month?) I hope to keep improving in the upcoming years!

Links to individual pieces below (Jan and Sep are comics)-

Jan

Feb

Mar

Apr

May

Jun

Jul

Aug

Sep

Oct

Nov

Dec

#2022 summary of art #summary of art #finger trauma #i drew so much mohg and miquella #well when so few other people draw them how you like you gotta do it yourself #im most happy with the sep comic its based off a scene in a fanfic i love #dec is also based on a fanfic i love too~#mohgmiq #moquella #incest/#noncon/#its all cropped here but ill tag just in case

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shoebillstork · 8 months

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I also managed to cut like two of my fingers last night right on the top so thats going to suck at work

#textbox #finger trauma #injury tw

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unholy-boi · 8 months

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how jason todd lost his middle finger

#my art #jason todd #red hood #Batman #batfam #dc #dc comics #black mask #doodle #finger trauma #gore

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stab-the-son-of-a · 2 years

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Family Business

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

TWs: Child abuse, child whumpee, emotional abuse, child endangerment

He holds himself so still his muscles ache with the effort- yet his face is placidly calm, his posture deceptively loose, and he absolutely doesn't look away from the man pressing the gun to his temple.

Hazel meets hazel. His own eyes stare back at him, wizened by a few decades. Maybe three. Who ever really cared about that sort of thing?

"C'mon pops," he jokes. Two short words are not enough to betray the tightness in his throat or to allow his voice the chance to crack, but for a moment, he's sure his old man heard. His father has always read him well, but he's changing the pages every year, learning a cypher for his thoughts and his behavior to keep Dad out of his head.

After a long moment of uncomfortable eye contact, his father speaks. "Taunting your captor will serve only to irritate them."

That's the point, he doesn't say, but he allows his lips to smirk, allows that bit of information to pass through his filter. "Epic."

His father's brow furrows, a flash of confusion, before the barrel cracks against his temple harder.

He sees sparks and tastes the iron and heat that comprises them. His head spins on his shoulders, balance slipping and forcing him to adjust. The wire holding his wrists together cuts deeper into his skin. There's a wetness that tells him that he's making progress in at least slicing open his flesh. How lovely.

"Answer the question, son, before I shatter your jaw next."

"I wouldn't be of much use now would I?" he quips. He keeps his father's attention on his words, on his overly animated expression, on the smirk he paints across his lips, all to distract from what his hands are doing behind his back. It's difficult, his father's gaze trying to rip the intention from the slightest of tells, but he's learning, rapidly, and he's working just as quickly.

His fingers have gone numb hours ago, so he works carefully, but he slips them between the exposed cable and the bit of rubber coating, fibers catching and breaking his nails as he works.

"You'd be a damn sight less irritating, that's for certain."

Each metal strand, wound together, slowly frays. He's not sure if the blood from his nailbeds and fingertips helps or hurts his cause, lubrication of sorts, maybe.

"Don't push your captors to think of you as more trouble than you're worth."

"'And I'm not worth much'," he paraphrases his father's next words.

Dad almost smiles. It's just a hint of amusement, of warmth, in his gaze, but it's there.

But then Dad's eyes widen slightly. It's not much, but it may as well be a dramatic gasp, complete with heart clutching theatrics, for all the action is so out of character.

Smirking, he bats his lashes up at his father, the trick knife resting against where his kidney should be. His own blood trickles convincingly down his wrist, and the open sores on his fingertips stain Dad's pristine white shirt.

"Oops," he says, voice and head light with giddiness. "I'll pay for the dry cleaning, pops. My treat."

Once his hands were freed, it was child’s play to reach into Dad’s jacket pocket for the knife he kept there. Always on his right side. ‘Don’t be predictable’ had been one of his very first lessons, and yet, here they are.

Carefully, Dad schools his shock into something less visible, and for a split moment there's doubt- did he do right? Did he still fail?

But then the gun falls away from his temple and Dad is smiling, even more apparent now. He pats him on the head, not remembering the other cracks he's taken to the skull this week, and then wraps his arm around his shoulders to lead him out of the testing range.

His chest feels ready to burst and it's not the broken ribs. It takes everything in him not to grin at his father.

"Why not between the ribs?" Dad asks. It's not a criticism. It's a genuine question. The same sort he asks of his business partners when trying to understand their thought processes.

He feels for the first time like an equal to his father.

"Name of the game is switching roles. Making you as useless as a gasping fish wouldn't've helped my position."

Dad chuckles. "No, I suppose not. Good work, son. I’m proud."

The warmth in his chest overwhelms the burning pain in his hands.

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #Gun to Temple #OC #fic #fingore #finger trauma #implied child whump #child whumpee #emotional abuse #child abuse #child endangerment #threats of violence #gun violence #emotional manipulation #live feed supplement #twisted perspective #LF Redacted #pistol whipping

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lenorethequietbookkeeper · 9 months

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What would Caspian do if someone told him "what is a pirate but a wet cowboy"

That person five seconds later

#zop #zombiesofpythonel #answered ask #shitpost hours #caspian #ooc #finger tw #finger trauma #fake violence #violence tw #saw tw #finger whump #ig????#look id rather be safe than sorry lol

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littledrawsandwritesstuff · 2 years

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Title: The Finger Procedure Fandom: Elden Ring Characters: White Mask Varre/The Tarnished Word Count: 1.412

Summary: The Tarnished comes to Varre with an injury that needs treatment. Varre is far too happy to help him out.

@sicktember

#elden ring #fanfiction #white mask varre #the tarnished #varre/tarnished #sickfic #sick!tarnished #caretaker!varre #medical procedure #finger trauma #infection #littlewritesstuff

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velocitic · 1 year

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hey if anyone was curious cuts under your nails hurt so bad <3

#i've managed. twice. TWICE. to do this to myself #finger trauma #injury

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afewproblems · 8 months

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Season 2 Halloween Party AU Part Two

You can read part one here!

***

Eddie can't help but steal glances at his passenger as he starts the engine while Steve buckles himself in.

A streetlight flickers overhead bathing the front seat in strobing gold light; it's so distracting Eddie nearly misses the way Steve's hands tighten around the seatbelt, a slight tremor running through them.

The other man looks exhausted but incredibly on edge, his back straight and shoulders stiff. Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve scans the dark street ahead of them.

If he's so embarrassed to be seen with the town freak, he can just get out and walk home.

Eddie almost says as much, but shakes the words off and flicks the small Snoopy bobblehead on the dash, before reaching for the edge of the passenger seat.

He feels Steve flinch at the sudden movement as Eddie braces himself on the seat to look out the rearview window.

Eddie tamps down the flicker of irritation that burns in his chest, he hadnt taken Harrington for a Bible thumping asshole that would believe the rumours circling Eddie, but then again, Eddie didn't really know Steve.

Eddie backs out of the space slowly, no need to wreck the paint even more by hitting some suburban moms stationwagon after all. He shifts into drive and pulls away from the street and the flashing lights of Tina's party behind them.

Steve is quiet as they drive, and as the sound of the dull throbbing bass and party goers begins to fade into the background, Steve slowly begins to curls inwards, tugging his arms around himself.

Eddie's eyes flick between Steve and the road, he's still not looking at Eddie, just out the window with a blank expression. It's the most quiet he's ever seen King-Steve, it's unsettling.

But, the more Eddie thinks about it, that really isn't true.

King-Steve hasn't been King of anything for awhile now, Tommy Hagan has seen to that.

Steve has been keeping to himself more and more, preferring to hang out with Wheeler and, surprisingly, Byers of all people.

Eddie isn't sure he'd ever be able to comfortably sit at a cafeteria table with someone who cleaned his clock, but Steve makes it look easy.

Eddie sneaks another glance and startles to find that Steve is already looking at him. He's chewing his lip, his eyebrows pinched and Eddie can't help but feel as though he's being evaluated somehow.

Great.

"Actually, you know what," Steve says after they've turned down yet another subdivision, just one street shy before the main road, "you can just drop me off up here, my house is close".

"You sure?" Eddie asks, ignoring the frustration that rises in his chest once more, "I can drive you the rest of the way, it's not like we don't all know where the King's Domaine is".

Eddie watches as Steve's expression turns stony for the barest of moments before it shutters.

"Okay".

Eddie nods with a grimace. He isn't even sure what he wanted to happen tonight, but it wasn’t this.

Eddie makes a left and another right before pulling into the long drive of the Harrington house.

It used to make him scoff whenever he dealt here. The huge house, the lavish furnishings and fixtures. For fucks sake, the master bath had two sinks and the closet was almost as big as his own bedroom.

But now as the engine dies and a strange silence falls on the pair, Eddie can't help but notice just how dark the house is.

"Your parents here?" Eddie says, craning his neck to see the upstairs windows, he doesn't even notice Steve has unclicked himself from the passenger seat until the door is open and he's halfway out of the van.

"Woah--"

"Thanks for the ride," Steve calls over his shoulder, "see you around Munson".

Eddie barely has time to open his mouth in protest before Steve is unlocking his door and slamming it behind him, leaving Eddie in the van alone.

He sits for a second before sighing and turning the key once more, coaxing the engine back to life. Eddie turns again, bracing his hand on the passenger seat, debating if he should head back to the party, before he spots something on the floor shining in the glow of the streetlights.

A pair of large black sunglasses, and there's no doubt who they belong to.

"Well shit," Eddie hums thoughtfully as he bends forward to grab the glasses from the floor, "guess I'll be seeing you sooner than we thought".

***

The first bell rings as Eddie closes his locker, he looks out across the sea of teenagers making their way to homeroom before the second bell and smirks.

Eddie should also be hurrying, considering how far his locker is from his first period class, but there's something about the way the teachers glare as he saunters in late that just fuels him.

Eddie smirks as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the metal lunchbox inside clangs against something and Eddie winces at the sound. Shit.

He moves the pack off his shoulder and unzips the top, reaching inside to grab the sunglasses from where they've become trapped beneath his lunchbox.

They aren't broken thankfully, Eddie's sure that Harrington wouldn't appreciate his gesture nearly as much if they came back cracked or bent.

The thought makes Eddie stop for just a moment before he opens his locker again to place the sunglasses on the top shelf. Why is he even doing this? It's not as though King-Steve would appreciate this, he probably doesn't even know the glasses are missing.

What does Eddie care about some asshole jock?

An image of Steve with his head in his hands, his hazel eyes wet and wide as he looks up at Eddie has him slamming his locker shut, mortified by the unbidden thought.

It's a complete betrayal of his own God damned doctrine, and worse, Steve is straight. All Eddie is doing is hurting himself in the long run with all his pointless pining.

Especially over someone that didn't want to be seen getting into his van last night.

Eddie leans his head onto his locker and knocks it harshly against the metal, stupid.

The second bell rings and the last of the stragglers leave him alone in the hallway. Eddie taps his fingers on the locker and pushes himself away as he makes his way to the main door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder once more.

He needs a smoke, and definitely doesn't need Mrs. McBrayden telling him off for not handing in yet another essay today.

Whatever, it isn't as though Eddie hasn't read Macbeth, he knows that stupid play backwards and forwards --the witches speech is absolutely full of kickass creepy language and was perfect for this one campaign he ran a few years ago.

Eddie could tell you all the major themes and conflicts no problem, it was writing it in such a way that his teacher would believe he actually wrote it that was the issue.

The last time Eddie actually tried on one of his assignments, he had been immediately accused of plagiarizing someone else's work.

So, why bother.

Eddie's already got a cigarette between his lips as he pushes the door open and makes his way to his favorite picnic table by the treeline when he hears a familiar voice behind the gym.

"Tell me--"

"Tell you what?" another voice scoffs, a woman's this time.

Eddie pokes his head tentatively around the corner, spotting the man he had driven home just the night before and his girlfriend alone, clearly fighting.

"Tell me," Steve says firmly, even as his voice waivers, "you love me".

Wheeler stands there, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, "really?"

The word comes out, wrapped in a smile, like it's a joke.

Steve doesn't move, he doesn't laugh, he doesn't make a sound.

Nancy's mouth opens and closes as her blue eyes search Steve's face for a long time. She tries for a laugh again, but her smile cracks as Steve continues to stand there expectantly.

Eddie can't see Steve's face from where he's standing but he does hear the low curse he lets out eventually before turning abruptly, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he jogs back to the field to join the rest of the class.

Well shit.

Eddie watches Nancy as she remains rooted to the spot, her face tipped down to the gravel. She breathes out a long sigh and raises one hand to brush through her hair before it drops heavily at her side.

Eddie can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as he slowly turns away, shaking his head as he continues to the picnic table.

He lights the cigarette as he takes a seat facing the school, letting the edge of the table dig into his back. He pulls a long drag from the cigarette and breathes out, watching as the smoke billows away in the cool November air.

If it wasn't officially over last night, it definitely was now. The priss and the jock were no more, and knowing Hawkins?

It would be all over the school by lunch.

Part Three up!

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads

#stranger things #stranger things season 2 au #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve and nancy breakup #what would have happened if eddie had been at tinas halloween party?#yall want a part three?#this fic is going places apparently #dont be mad at nancy #steve and nancy were too dumb kids that were affected by deep trauma and definitely did not know how to be in a relationship #eddie is having all sorts of complicated feelings about steve here #add a little bit of misunderstandings in the van as a treat #cw smoking #i will never get tired of halloween party breakup aus #you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #afewproblems writes

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marsidotcom · 20 days

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//minor dragons rising s2 spoilers

Nya saying “Jay wouldn’t forget me” is going to be extra heart wrenching when they meet again and he can’t place her face, or the feeling he gets looking at her, or explain why his heart is beating so fast for a girl he has never seen, and why the yin yang pendant on his desk back in the administration feels so important

#ninjago #lego ninjago #i’m a little too emotional over jaya #jay trauma reveal tho *crosses fingers*#jay walker #ninjago jay #jaya #ninjago nya #nya smith #jay x nya #ninjago jaya #ninjago dragons rising s2 #dragons rising #dragons rising season 2 #ninjago dragons rising

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katabay · 1 year

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SURGICAL SELF EXORCISM

so I was reading a text (as I usually am) on don quixote (thanks to re4make) and came across this one, and immediately started connecting thematic dots like there's no tomorrow

the wound fingering is because it's fun and sexy, and the adjacent catholicism of both settings makes this kind of imagery free real-estate to go wild with

#go ahead and finger yourself baby #gore cw #blood cw #like. a LITTLE bit #re4make #luis serra navarro #not featured: this whole thing im unravelling re the trauma of the catholic spanish empire and valdelobos and a larger #dialogue on the kind of trauma and abuse from power a setting will remember #and people inherit. you know. something else about religious cults and the way that the powerful take advantage of the devoted #(shrugs in filipino) you know! we're unpacking the whole box

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