Motaversary Week 6: Most Heartbreaking Scene

#SHORT QUEENS Quinta Brunson and Sabrina Carpenter during Quinta's opening monologue for Saturday Night Live | 3rd May, 2025

Callum Turner... this is your conscience speaking... let your curls grow back... please...

1ST MOTAVERSARY 🎉 • WEEK I FLUFF

Legally Blonde (2001) dir. Robert Luketic

Smithsonian Magazine

In a First, a Prosthetic Limb Can Sense Temperature Like a Living Hand

The advance may help users feel a greater sense of human connection through touch

Amputees’ hopes to experience the feeling of human touch using their prosthetics are becoming closer to reality. Now, new technology is allowing them to feel temperature—even in limbs that are no longer part of their bodies. For the first time, a functional artificial limb has been fitted with fingertip sensors that allow an ordinary prosthetic hand to sense and respond to temperature just as a living hand does. The device provides a realistic sense of hot and cold in the missing “phantom” hand by delivering thermal information to nerve areas on the amputee’s residual limb that the brain believes are still connected to the missing hand. The MiniTouch, described in a study published Friday in Med, was created with affordable off-the-shelf electronics, requires no surgery and can be fitted to existing commercial prosthetic hands in a matter of hours.

Continue Reading.

Where Angels Fear to Tread, oil on panel,

"Women want to be loved like roses. They spend hours perfecting their eyebrows and toes and inventing irresistible curls that fall by accident down the back of their necks from otherwise austere hair-dos. They want their lover to remember the way they held a glass. They want to haunt.

Eve Babitz, Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, the Flesh, and L.A.

love means nothing (in tennis)

a Buck/Bucky tennis AU by phlegmatic

Gale meets John Egan at a Challenger in Bordeaux when they’re both 19 years old. After that, he can’t seem to shake him. But what’s more is, despite what his dad says about Gale’s game, and what the commentators say about their rivalry, and what he’s been told about tennis his whole life, Gale doesn’t think he wants to.

Hearing Lee yell “C’mon” above the groaning of the crowd isn’t because he’s louder than anyone else’s disappointment; it’s because it’s a sound that Gale is hearing inside his own head anyway. The aim had been correct, according to Gale’s eyes, but his body is lurching into serves with limbs dragged through pulpy juice—or something even more viscous, hotter, like the air weighing down his lungs. Weather forecast didn’t say anything about heat, but Gale may as well be breathing in the sun and seawater. Both serves (both faults), he looked down the court—desert stretch of orange—and Lemmons was made of soft rubber, but Gale could see the lines. The ball is the problem, not going where he sends it. His body is moving too slow, is the problem, and there’s a knife behind his eye, poking through the cotton wool filling his skull. The ringing in his ears is the problem, the dizziness.

🎾 read chapter five on ao3 🎾

“Normal” test results are not the relief people think they are. When you wake up in pain and continue to be in pain for hours every day and your tests come back normal you don’t stop being in pain.