#I can attest that it is effective

[livwritesstuff]

More about the girls bickering (see this post) – as the at home more parent, Eddie has to deal with it quite a bit more than Steve does. Unbeknownst to his husband, Ed learned that once both the girls had KO-ed each other, there was a very easy and nearly 100% effective tactic to subdue them completely.

Standing on their hair.

It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to come home from a day of counseling sessions to Eddie in the midst of refereeing a fight, which is how he essentially got a crash course in this technique when he walked into the house one day to find Robbie and Moe lying on the ground, Ed with one foot on Moe’s ponytail, and the other on Robbie’s wild curls.

Robbie is still fighting against the restraint, while Moe has clearly long since given up, glowering up at the ceiling with her arms crossed.

Steve, coming to a dead stop: Alright, what’s going on

Eddie: Daughters, would we like to tell Papa how we ended up in this predicament?

They both glare in opposite directions, though Robbie does aim a knobby elbow at Moe’s side (and misses).

Eddie, conceding: *explains fight, which is mostly incoherent and might be about a pair of shoes*

Eddie watches Steve look between his husband and oldest daughters before giving them all a resigned shrug.

Steve: Fair enough

Moe and Robbie: *immediately start protesting*

Steve: Look, girls, it could always be worse.

Steve: He could be barefoot.

The girls let out simultaneous noises of disgust as Steve walks away.

[fatal-blow]

is it bad to walk on your toes a lot instead of your whole foot?

also how much exactly does hypermobile cover? at what point is it considered hypermobility?

you seem very knowledgeable about these things so im just asking you, sorry if this is a bother or anything

walking on your toes seems to be a compensation method related to Morton's foot type! i also did it a lot, especially as a child, because it improved my balance.

assuming you haven't scrolled through my blog, Morton's foot type is a common anatomical variation of the foot present in a significant amount of the human population (estimates say around 25% which is stupid bonkers insane numbers). it's hypothesized to be a helpful adaptation to sprinting, because it changes the structure of the foot from 3 points on contact (heel, ball of pinkie toe, ball of big toe) to 2 points of contact (heel, middle of forefoot) which tldr let's you put more power into a stride

however the trade off here is that Morton's foot provides less balance--2 points of contact means that you're doing the equivalent of walking around on ice skates. always.

this results in a number of compensation techniques that people use to keep their balance, and walking on your toes is one of them. when you lack that third point of contact in the forefoot, it leaves you feeling like you're going to fall forwards because of how your weight is distributed. standing on your toes therefore recenters your balance, makes you feel more secure.

but at the end of the day, toe walking may do more harm than good, especially if you are also hypermobile, because it requires a lot of muscles to be working all the time to maintain that stance. like you're basically giving yourself chronic tension because of the effort you have to put in to maintain balance. people without Morton's foot type, with 3 points of contact, can relax almost completely while standing. they can walk with barely any effort. they could, literally, fall asleep on their feet and not fall over.

so if you want to change this habit, buy some moleskin from the store (usually in the pharmacy section with other foot stuff) and cut a rectangle to put in your shoe beneath your big toe and ball of big toe to regain that 3 points of contact (search Morton's foot on my blog for more info i never shut up about it)

as for how much hypermobility covers, it depends. like many things, hypermobility is a spectrum and the way it's expressed varies from person to person. there are lots of little tests you can find, like the Beighton Score, which can give you an idea of how hyperflexible you are. many of these tests don't take into account stuff like losing flexibility due to age or injury though, so they're far from perfect, but very useful for learning about the abilities of your body. using a combination of these tests and your own experiences and observations to figure out where you land on this spectrum will go a long way towards figuring out what your body can, can't, and maybe shouldn't do

there's no real line where you suddenly become classified as hypermobile, and since most healthcare professionals seem to have only a vague idea of how hypermobility presents i think the best course of action is simply to learn more about the ways hypermobility can affect the body and make adjustments to your life based on what you learn

[1yyyyyy1]

Tips & tricks on how to stop giving a fuck about other people, specifically their feelings and chimpout reactions, if you're sensitive to that stuff?

This is a complex topic. You can become sensitive to people's reactions for quite a few reasons, ranging from mild workplace disagreements to severe trauma. The most effective approach will depend on the cause. As such, I will always advise to consult a qualified professional if it is possible. The following is what found helpful in my own introspection and what I personally find important to understand about mental health.

Do you have these moments in your life where, long after a conflict subsided, you replay an event in your head wishing you had retorted with something clever? Do you find yourself thinking how stupid you are for being bothered by something this petty? Is your immediate decision to shut your eyes tight and wish for it to go away? Don't. Stop in your tracks and finish your line of thought. A disturbance like that is not petty. In situations where retaliation is not an option for a variety of reasons, be it the danger of calling out your superior, or simply because the opportunity is long gone, people tend to not only opt out of confrontation, they opt out of experiencing the related emotional feedback as well. How often do you feel that your anger is useless? That the situation is simply too dire to be resolved with a simple display of emotion, and that expressing your displeasure would be a waste of time? Anger is an indication that something is wrong, and it is useless for as long as you devalue yourself and your own biological processes. The reaction you wish you had had has not gone anywhere, you are simply suppressing it over and over again, just like you did during the incident. Recalling it in an untimely manner is what the brain does in an attempt to process the event in earnest.

The solution comes down to the following psychological phenomenon: it does not matter to your brain whether the person you are referring to is real or imaginary, it treats them all the same. If it is not safe for you to confront the person, do it retrospectively and it will have a similar effect relieving emotional tension. The same principle applies to situations where it is dangerous for you to express your disdain outright: dealing with an abusive ex-boyfriend, your parents threatening to evict you should you make a fuss. You can see me refer to an imaginary person in this post as to avoid a spat and let off steam all the same. I have had women confide me in the fact that they talk to themselves in private, and it is crucial to recognize what this process functionally is. Do not deny yourself this on the premise that it is stupid or bizarre. Whenever you catch yourself slipping into an unpleasant memory, take a step back and play out the event as if it were real. Defend yourself to the best of your ability and don't mince words. I assure you, you will not only feel better, you will no longer be haunted by the incident soon after the exercise is over.

If I were you, I would ask myself this: Why do I care? Why do I care about people's feelings? Why do I feel like I have to take them into consideration?

Many a thing with insecurities are an inverse trauma response. It is easier to assume that you breaking down means you are unfit for the job, and not that your supervisor is a bully. It would require reflecting on the circumstances that led up to the moment: financial instability, fear of losing the job, a potentially triggered flashback; that in itself is traumatic. The best thing you can do is not make an enemy of yourself. Few a person has your best interest in mind. Now is not the time to be insecure.

I do not care about people’s opinions and feelings because their input is of limited value to me. Living by this world’s principles has never worked for me, it is stupid to assume that it will now. A common concern I have seen women express over consistently making a harsher judgement is that they will end up not having enough self-awareness not to go overboard, and that they will needlessly hurt the people around them and themselves in the process. The truth is that people who are malignant behaviorally do not ask themselves these questions, and they certainly do not consider themselves being at fault a possibility. With a smidge of awareness, you are good to go.

[sputnikodin]

as someone who can be quite unempathetic and involuntarily emotionally shielded from matters of tragedy and injustice sometimes (but still, obviously, recognizes his own responsibility as a moral actor regardless of how he feels that day and does his best to act in accordance with carefully considered values at all times) it really bugs me when people r like "having less empathy can make you more logical about things" no it fuckin doesn't ............... Believe me no it fuckin doesn't

[sluttish-armchair]

Me: [sketching Winston’s body design] “I am about to make you so unhealthy-looking.”

[puts on glasses] Excuse me I’m going to armchair diagnose him with stuff in the tags

[astrxealis]

good morning! <3

[thoughtportal]

Opinion Here’s how to get free Paxlovid as many times as you need it

When the public health emergency around covid-19 ended, vaccines and treatments became commercial products, meaning companies could charge for them as they do other pharmaceuticals. Paxlovid, the highly effective antiviral pill that can prevent covid from becoming severe, now has a list price of nearly $1,400 for a five-day treatment course.

Thanks to an innovative agreement between the Biden administration and the drug’s manufacturer, Pfizer, Americans can still access the medication free or at very low cost through a program called Paxcess. The problem is that too few people — including pharmacists — are aware of it.

I learned of Paxcess only after readers wrote that pharmacies were charging them hundreds of dollars — or even the full list price — to fill their Paxlovid prescription. This shouldn’t be happening. A representative from Pfizer, which runs the program, explained to me that patients on Medicare and Medicaid or who are uninsured should get free Paxlovid. They need to sign up by going to paxlovid.iassist.com or by calling 877-219-7225. “We wanted to make enrollment as easy and as quick as possible,” the representative said.

Indeed, the process is straightforward. I clicked through the web form myself, and there are only three sets of information required. Patients first enter their name, date of birth and address. They then input their prescriber’s name and address and select their insurance type.

All this should take less than five minutes and can be done at home or at the pharmacy. A physician or pharmacist can fill it out on behalf of the patient, too. Importantly, this form does not ask for medical history, proof of a positive coronavirus test, income verification, citizenship status or other potentially sensitive and time-consuming information.

But there is one key requirement people need to be aware of: Patients must have a prescription for Paxlovid to start the enrollment process. It is not possible to pre-enroll. (Though, in a sense, people on Medicare or Medicaid are already pre-enrolled.)

Once the questionnaire is complete, the website generates a voucher within seconds. People can print it or email it themselves, and then they can exchange it for a free course of Paxlovid at most pharmacies.

Pfizer’s representative tells me that more than 57,000 pharmacies are contracted to participate in this program, including major chain drugstores such as CVS and Walgreens and large retail chains such as Walmart, Kroger and Costco. For those unable to go in person, a mail-order option is available, too.

The program works a little differently for patients with commercial insurance. Some insurance plans already cover Paxlovid without a co-pay. Anyone who is told there will be a charge should sign up for Paxcess, which would further bring down their co-pay and might even cover the entire cost.

Several readers have attested that Paxcess’s process was fast and seamless. I was also glad to learn that there is basically no limit to the number of times someone could use it. A person who contracts the coronavirus three times in a year could access Paxlovid free or at low cost each time.

Unfortunately, readers informed me of one major glitch: Though the Paxcess voucher is honored when presented, some pharmacies are not offering the program proactively. As a result, many patients are still being charged high co-pays even if they could have gotten the medication at no cost.

This is incredibly frustrating. However, after interviewing multiple people involved in the process, including representatives of major pharmacy chains and Biden administration officials, I believe everyone is sincere in trying to make things right. As we saw in the early days of the coronavirus vaccine rollout, it’s hard to get a new program off the ground. Policies that look good on paper run into multiple barriers during implementation.

Those involved are actively identifying and addressing these problems. For instance, a Walgreens representative explained to me that in addition to educating pharmacists and pharmacy techs about the program, the company learned it also had to make system changes to account for a different workflow. Normally, when pharmacists process a prescription, they inform patients of the co-pay and dispense the medication. But with Paxlovid, the system needs to stop them if there is a co-pay, so they can prompt patients to sign up for Paxcess.

Here is where patients and consumers must take a proactive role. That might not feel fair; after all, if someone is ill, people expect that the system will work to help them. But that’s not our reality. While pharmacies work to fix their system glitches, patients need to be their own best advocates. That means signing up for Paxcess as soon as they receive a Paxlovid prescription and helping spread the word so that others can get the antiviral at little or no cost, too.

{source}

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 10

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: I'm baaaack! Oh how I've missed these two idiots XD Thanks to everyone who sent in ideas for what should happen AFTER THE KISS!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: swearing, shirtless Jake, SHIRTLESS JAKE, fluff, Jake's arms, did I mention shirtless Jake?

WC: ~2800

Part 1 | Masterlist

There are a lot of things you regret in life, but bombing your psych midterm because you were too busy making out with Jake Seresin to study is not one of them. Sure, you might not have remembered the ins and outs of Jungian archetypes, but you sure as hell can recite from memory every single word that had fallen out of Jake’s mouth following the inaugural kiss. You might have been a bit hazy on the details surrounding the birth of behaviorism, but you could certainly attest to the effectiveness of positive reinforcement in the form of Jake’s lips rewarding every correctly answered flash card. Thus, despite leaving the exam room with the sinking feeling that your GPA just took a nosedive, you couldn’t be happier.

Your excitement is short-lived, however, because you walk into the house to the unsettling sounds of grunting. You end up dropping your book bag loudly on the floor in an effort to alert any unsuspecting individuals of your arrival before you happen upon a scene you have no interest in witnessing.

But the groaning doesn’t subside, and you find yourself inching cautiously toward the living room, gripped by a nauseating curiosity. Slowly, you creep through the kitchen and peek around the wall into the living room. But what you see, albeit somewhat strange, is not exactly out of the ordinary. What you see is two grown men doing push-ups on your living room floor.

“Uhh,” you utter, stepping into the room to get a better look at the two of them positioned between the armchair and the coffee table.

Neither one looks up at you. They continue grunting into the carpeted floor against every thrust and then breathing heavily into the silence on their way back down. In unison. Shirtless.

“Okay, I’ll just…” you pause, waiting to see if your presence might be acknowledged before you continue speaking. Several seconds go by without any sort of greeting, as if they haven’t even noticed you enter, so you resume, “I’ll just go wait in the kitchen.”

No response.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich,” you add, your eyes inadvertently landing on the rippling muscles of Jake’s back as his shoulder blades contract.

Before you’re completely entranced by the hypnotic movement of Jake Seresin’s body, you shake your head and head back to the kitchen. But, just as you make your way out, you hear Jake’s strained voice, “We’re counting.”

You glance over your shoulder, but he isn’t looking at you; his mouth is taut and his nostrils are flaring and he winces slightly as he straightens his arms again. You decide not to interrupt them further and retreat into the kitchen to fix yourself some lunch.

You wander back in several minutes later, a jam sandwich in hand, and raise your eyebrows as your brother and your, well, Jake, finally finish with a host of groans and obscenities, and laboriously get to their feet.

You glance between the two of them as they pant and take a bite of your sandwich. Until this very moment, you had no idea how you would navigate your situation with Jake in Bradley’s presence. It wasn’t something that you and Jake had a chance to discuss over the course of the previous evening and you had been hoping to postpone the encounter for at least another day.

However, now that you’re all in the same room, you realize that nothing much has changed; Bradley and Jake are still up to their usual antics, and you are still critically observing them from the sidelines.

“Three sets,” Jake breathes heavily as he rolls his shoulders and meets your gaze. “Of a hundred.”

You stare at him mutely, wondering what kind of reaction he’s expecting you to have whilst your brother stands three feet away. You pull your lips into a tight smile and nod approvingly. “If only you put this much effort into keeping track of your socks,” you respond wryly, noticing the pair that’s tucked into the corner of the armchair; the third that you’ve located in the living room this week.

Jake bows his head and Bradley lets out a snort. “I have hot feet,” Jake mutters to the floor.

You eye the veins along his forearms – more pronounced than usual after his workout – and decide conclusively that his feet are not the exception.

Bradley, who’s just finished guzzling half a bottle of water, hums at you to get your attention. Immediately, you tear your gaze from Jake’s veiny hands and blink up at your brother in alarm, certain that he’s already caught on to you since you can’t seem to stop gawking at his best friend. Bradley grins, his eyes bright with excitement. “So,” he says, “how was your study date?” His smile widens slyly.

You stare at him awkwardly, not daring to look at Jake, even when the latter chokes on his water. Clearly, he has not said a word to Bradley about the events of the previous evening.

Bradley watches you expectantly, ignoring Jake’s coughing fit. “Uh,” you start, your voice sounding unusually fuzzy. “It was, um,” you clear your throat, still not looking at Jake as he finally straightens his back and takes another enormous gulp of water.

Bradley lifts his eyebrows. “That good, huh?” he asks with a chuckle.

You feel your palms start to sweat and it takes a great deal of willpower to keep them steady at your sides rather than rubbing them together and wiping them on your thighs. “Pretty good,” you say weakly, avoiding direct eye contact with your brother.

“Get much studying done?” Bradley asks, picking his shirt up off the couch and pulling it over his head.

You briefly lock eyes with Jake. “Some,” you croak, in response to which Bradley shakes his head knowingly.

“How’d you do on your midterm?” Jake asks, finally setting his water bottle down.

You hold his gaze timidly, not sure how long you can get away with looking right at him. “I probably could have done better,” you confess.

Jake winces slightly. “Shit, really?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“We warned you,” Bradley calls in a singsong voice as he heads out of the living room. “That dude wasn’t looking to study, and you fell for it.”

Jake tilts his head to the side and rubs the back of his neck guiltily. “Maybe he tried,” he says, still grimacing.

Bradley stops short of the entrance to the kitchen and looks back at him. “Yeah, right,” he says. “Is that what you would do?” he asks him.

Jake’s face visibly pales and he stammers out, “M-me? What kind of question is that?” He clears his throat and adds, “Even.”

“You definitely would not have tried,” Bradley says. Then, he looks at you pointedly. “Next time, just study at home. Trust me.”

You nod, trying not to think too hard about how ineffective studying at home has proved, in fact, to be.

“Want a protein shake, bro?” Bradley asks before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Yeah, man,” Jake calls back. “Thanks.”

The two of you stand very still for a moment, not looking at one another. Then, Jake bends down to grab his muscle shirt off the floor.

“Sucks about your test,” he says, his head hanging so low that his chin nearly rests on his clavicle.

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, suddenly uneasy now that it’s just the two of you in the room.

Jake draws the shirt over his head and then wearily drags a hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking at you guiltily.

You shrug nonchalantly and give him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He pulls his shirt down over his torso casually, but it’s probably the single most sexy thing you’ve ever witnessed. He sighs and says, “I feel responsible,” but all you could really pay any attention to is the sliver of stomach that he’s so carelessly left exposed. If anything, it’s entirely irresponsible.

You purse your lips and eye him humorously. “Well, that’s very self-centered of you.”

Jake laughs at your comment and you breathe a sigh of relief as the tension between you slowly dissipates.

“Dude, you coming?” Bradley calls, popping his head back in to check on Jake. “First fifteen minutes are crucial!”

“Be right there,” Jake responds and, grabbing his two stray socks off the armchair, starts for the kitchen.

You wander in after him to put your plate in the sink and Jake all but leaps out of your way when you get too close.

Bradley leans into the counter and speaks again, “So, apparently Jake had a wild night.”

The plate starts to slip out of your hand before you make it all the way to the sink, and you sort of toss it the rest of the way. It clatters against the basin but thankfully remains intact. “Oh yeah?” you ask in a high-pitched voice while Bradley watches you curiously.

“I didn’t say wild,” Jake clarifies, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he tries to find a less awkward way to rest his entire frame against the slightly protruding door of the refrigerator.

Bradley makes a face at him. “I paraphrased.”

You try not to smile as you ask, “What happened?” You glance at Jake mischievously as he digs himself further into the corner. The fact that he’s disclosed any details to Bradley is shocking, to say the least.

“Oh, just that he finally made a move on a chick he’s been obsessing over for weeks,” Bradley says with a proud grin.

While you try to process the words ‘for weeks’, Jake counters moodily, “I was not obsessing, dude. Come on.”

You lift your eyes slowly to meet his gaze and he glances at you reluctantly.

“Please, you never shut up about her!” Bradley cries.

Jake exhales sharply and glares over at Bradley, but he doesn’t deny his assertion.

“Who is she?” you ask hesitantly, ignoring the pointed stare you get from Jake as you direct your question at Bradley.

Bradley shrugs. “I don’t know her.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Jake scoffs in the background while Bradley grimaces. “No, but he won’t tell me, so I’ve stopped asking.”

You withhold a smile and say quietly, “Wonder what she’s like.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “For the love of god –”

But his complaint is interrupted by Bradley when he says, “Apparently, she’s insanely hot –”

“Rooster,” Jake cuts him off sternly, pushing himself off the refrigerator to square his shoulders intimidatingly.

“What?” Bradley chuckles as you bite into your cheek to suppress a grin. “Those were your exact words!”

“Enough,” Jake says, glaring at him threateningly.

“Relax, it’s just my sister,” Bradley says, attempting to diffuse the situation gracefully. “She won’t tell a soul.”

You bat your eyelashes at Jake innocently. “Promise,” you assure him.

Jake narrows his eyes at you subtly. “Tell us more about your date,” he says, cleverly taking the heat off himself.

You lower your gaze and respond with, “It wasn’t a date.”

“But will there be one in the future?” Bradley asks.

You glance back at Jake instinctively before addressing your brother, “Not that I know of.”

Jake chugs the remainder of his shake and walks over to the sink to rinse the glass. He rests his hip on the counter right next to you and asks, “Would you go?”

You look up at him hesitantly, apprehensive about his proximity, even though he still stands a good two feet away. “Where?”

“On a date,” Jake clarifies. “If he asks.”

You gulp nervously, looking back at your equally curious-looking brother. The truth is, you’re afraid of showing all your cards so early in the game. Jake Seresin isn’t a dater, he doesn’t go out with the same girl multiple times. And if he’s only with you because you’re ‘insanely hot’ – his words – he might be spooked by an overzealous response. “I don’t know.” You shrug. “Haven’t thought about it.”

“Bullshit,” Bradley interjects obnoxiously.

“I agree,” Jake adds.

You clamp your jaw tightly, mildly annoyed at Jake for making you the target of conversation yet again. “Are you planning on asking insanely hot girl out?” you enquire aggressively, fixing Jake with an accusing glower.

“How do you know I haven’t already?” Jake asks in a patronizing tone.

You glare at him through squinted eyes. “Wild guess.”

“Of course, he’s gonna ask her out,” Bradley chimes in. “As soon as he stops wigging out about it.”

Jake gives him a peeved look before glancing back at you. “I’m considering it,” he says vaguely.

“Please,” Bradley scoffs and Jake shoots him another ominous glare. “There’s nothing he would want more.”

“That’s not true,” Jake mutters monotonously while you scrutinize the evasive movements of his eyes.

“You literally told me that –”

“Bradley!” Jake shouts. “Shut up!”

Bradley grimaces. “Since when do we keep secrets around here?”

“Since I fucking said so,” Jake retorts.

You glance between the two of them awkwardly and then look down at your feet, stretching out the already uncomfortable silence. You try not to dwell on what your brother has said but Jake wanting nothing more than to take you on a date has you feeling all kinds of giddy. Hesitantly, you say, “I’d probably say yes.” You bite your lip and add, “To study group guy – if he asks.”

Bradley nods, unsurprised. And you don’t dare check on Jake’s reaction. But before you could second guess your confession, Jake says, “He’ll ask.” You steal a glance at him and he catches your gaze. “He’d be an idiot not to.”

You give him a small, half-smile – the half that’s not visible from your brother’s vantage point. But Bradley seems to have lost interest in the topic now that he’s been censored because he starts to shuffle out of the kitchen.

“Hey Bradley!” you call after him. “How was your date?”

Bradley stops and spins to face you. “Finally!” he exclaims.

You smirk at him. “Did she like your shirt?”

Bradley grins. “She loved my shirt.”

“She loved it so much, she kept it,” Jake adds.

Your jaw drops in shock when Bradley yells, “Hey! So, it’s alright to air my dirty laundry?”

“Technically, now she’s got your dirty laundry,” you point out and Jake high fives you.

Bradley shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Real mature,” he says. “At least I had the balls to ask her out.” With that, he finally exits the kitchen.

You start after him when your feel Jake’s hand brush gently across the small of your back. You turn to face him and he rests it confidently on your hip. You wonder what he’s going to say but, just when you’re about to articulate your curiosity, he leans down and kisses you square on the mouth. His fingers slide into the hair at the nape of your neck as he takes a hold of your face and, as his thumb sweeps languidly back and forth across your cheekbone, you absently speculate on just how big his hand must be to support your head in such a way. You’re so engrossed in this calculation, in fact, that you nearly miss the moment his tongue enters the equation.

Of course, all of this happens so quickly that, before you can really even kiss him in return, he’s already taking a step back and glancing at the doorway to make sure that Bradley isn’t there.

You graze your teeth over your bottom lip, trying to contain your widening smile as you meet his gaze. It’s nice to know that Jake still wants to kiss you today just as badly as he did yesterday. So much so that he’s willing to risk Bradley walking in on you. You let yourself ogle him overtly for a moment, admiring his tanned arms and the little bit of chest that you could see above the low neckline of his muscle shirt. Then, you say, “I want to hear more about this insanely hot girl you won’t shut up about.”

Jake cringes, busying himself with the dishes sitting in the dishrack. “I’m not sure you’d get along. She’s very confrontational.” He puts away a couple of bowls into a cupboard.

You let out a shocked gasp as if you're offended. “Seriously?”

“Oh yeah,” Jake turns back to face you, grinning as he throws a dishtowel over his shoulder. “Super intense. A little scary.”

“I don’t know, she sounds like a catch,” you say, taking a small step toward him. “I mean, according to Bradley, you’ve been obsessing over her for weeks!”

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle and, pulling you in to give you a quick peck on the side of your head, he mutters into your hair, “I’m gonna kill your brother.”

Read Part 11

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

[girlwithsharpt33th]

𝐴𝑁𝐺𝐸𝐿𝐼𝐶 ~ 𝐺𝑂𝐽𝑂

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: 𝑖𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑔𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝑑𝑎𝑦 (𝑀𝐷𝑁𝐼, 18+ 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑝𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑢𝑏!𝑔𝑜𝑗𝑜, 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑗𝑜, ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 ℎ𝑢𝑔𝑠, 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒!

As soon as you insert the key into the door of your apartment, Gojo greets you at the door. The look on his face is truly pathetic, like a lost puppy who has been traumatized after being lost for days.

He engulfs you in a warm hug, twirling you through the doorway and shutting the door. He rests his head on your shoulder and inhales deeply, running his long, dexterous fingers through your hair.

“I want you. ‘S cruel for you to leave me alone this long.” he murmurs, his hands drifting down to your ass and rocking side to side softly.

You chuckle. “Don’t make me feel guilty, ‘Toru. Quite the turn off.” He doesn’t say anything, instead squeezing your ass and giving you a quick peck on the lips. He picks you up, burying his face in your cleavage and nosing around.

“Please. Fuck me.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The short skirt you’re wearing is hiked up to your stomach as you lay on your unmade bed. Gojo gives several kisses and kitten licks to the pretty pink dildo strapped to your waist. He wraps his lips around it, taking it all the way in. It’s quite long and girthy, and you dont hesitate to shove his head down and fuck his face.

He looks up at you with his teary, crystalline irises, determined not to part his lips from your cock. (He takes the onslaught quite well, having virtually no gag reflex). Wet sloppy sounds and muffled groans spill from his mouth.

“Don’t forget your fingers.” you remind him, sitting up slightly and grabbing one of the hands gripping your thighs. You suck a couple of his fingers, not breaking eye contact with him. He removes his mouth from the dildo, rosy lips parted in an o-shape, enraptured by the lewd display.

His idiotic gawking causes you to snort and you push his head back down forcefully. “Back to work, Satoru.” He complies, putting his mouth back to work and fingering himself with his spit-dampened fingers. His hips rock back against his hand, desperate for more friction.

You yourself crave more friction, so you decide to tease him.

“On your ass, ‘Toru” you command huskily, and he looks up at you, panting, a confused expression on his face. He extracts his lips from the pink phallus and reluctantly removes his fingers from his ass with a groan, sitting cross-legged.

You crawl towards him, taking one of his large hands and kissing it as you lower yourself onto his lap. His breath hitches, misty eyes and pinkening cheeks attesting to the effect you have on him. He snakes his arms around your back, engulfing your much smaller frame in a tender embrace. Before he can settle his head on your shoulder, you poke his sternum slowly and shift back, wrapping your hand around his shaft and the dildo.

Your hand, slick with his precum, begins to stroke lazily up and down. You know he’s almost at his limit by the way he immediately thrusts up into your touch, throwing his head back. His long, snowy eyelashes flutter closed.

“Baby, don’t do that, look at me.” you murmur, almost desperate. You’re as weak for him as he is for you. He lifts his head and looks into your eyes longingly.

“Can’t help it. You’re so pretty,” His honeyed words make your head fuzzy. He appears to notice your eyes further darkening with lust at his words, so he continues. “The skirt, everything…stunning. ‘S too much for one man to handle on his own.” he whispers, engulfing your lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

You increase the pace of your hand, the pressure in your stomach blooming at his sweet praises. He becomes vocal again, rolling his hips. The pressure on your clit underneath the strap increases, and you reach your own release. He runs a calloused hand up and down your thigh and cups your cheek in the other, his nonverbal way of talking you through your orgasm.

You recover quickly and quicken your ministrations on his cock, swirling your thumb over the flushed tip. It isn’t long before he spurts into your hand, rivers of cum flowing down his length and the dildo.

He shudders, spent, but wanting more. You finally give into him and the embrace he so craves. He immediately sinks into your touch, inhaling deeply.

“I wanna ride you, sweetheart. Please.” he begs, his voice muffled against your sweat-dampened shoulder.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With shaky legs, satoru carefully sinks down onto your strap. Your clothes, including the pretty skirt you’d been wearing, have long been lost amongst the tangled sheets.

His hands grope your tits greedily, running his broad thumbs over your hardened nipples. He huddles over you and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, moving his hips up and down rhythmically. His heavy cock slaps against your stomach.

His soft moans and breaths flow into your ears like an addictive melody. His mouth grazes over your neck, sucking and licking rhythmically.

“S’ deep.” he croons drunkenly. You lift his chin up and insert a thumb into his mouth. His tongue circles the digit sensually, a string of saliva dripping onto your chest. So sloppy. So cute.

“Sit up. I wanna watch.” you say, your voice dripping with lust and admiration. Satoru reluctantly sits up and resumes bouncing on your cock. His weight pressing down on the strap causes a pleasurable feeling to build in your core.

Gradually, he begins to move his hips faster, grinding desperately. His mouth is agape, eyebrows knitted, looking at you as if you’ve truly wrecked him. He leans back, using your thighs as leverage as he bounces off of them.

He looks ethereal. The moonlight coming in from the bedroom window illuminates his alabaster skin. His cock is painted a magnificent rose color. He reaches up and plays with his nipples, whimpering.

“You’re like art, satoru.” you whisper, enraptured by his display. You caress his thighs. He grows desperate, seemingly clinging to your praises. His legs begin to shake.

“S-say something else like that.” he whimpers. It appears he’s too focused on his impending orgasm to properly articulate himself.

You grin and chuckle lowly. “You’re so gorgeous. And all mine.” It’s corny, but you know your voice is like manna to him, the breath of his life. It’s more than enough to take him to heaven.

Sure enough, he crumbles, his cock splattering his pearly white seed up his abs. He huffs and dismounts the dildo, laying on his back beside you. You pull yourself up onto your elbows, kissing his cheek.

You straddle his thighs again, licking the cum off of his stomach. He moans faintly, running a large shaky hand through your hair. “Don’t have t’ do that.” he murmurs, but you shake your head and smile.

Once you’ve finished your task, his hands slip down your sides, flipping you around and grasping your waist, pinning your back against his chest. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and planting a tender kiss against your skin.

“Love you, sweet girl.” he whispers before drifting off. You smile and hold the hand resting on your stomach, feeling the most safe you ever have.

[xtra7s]

It's me again, how about Renee and r reading thirst tweets??? Or Renee flirting with r and she just loves making her flustered. Something like Renee always calling her "baby" I just can't get my mind out of these thoughts.

Also, love you and your works darling<3

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋: 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 ─── 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘙𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and Y/N get to read thirst tweets!!!

Content: Renee Rapp x Fem!Reader, fluff, Renee bullying the hell out of Y/N(lovingly)

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: please keep these comin baby. I am in writers block like crazy right now but this shit was fun to write. Hope you enjoy, (let me know if you want 'something special: Paris Trip' (;

masterlist | first part | second part

The studio lights glowed softly as Renee Rapp and Y/N settled into their seats, ready for another interview. This time, the format was a bit different. There was no host, and they were told that they would be reading and reacting to "thirst tweets" from their fans. Renee and Y/N exchanged amused glances, knowing this would be a fun and cheeky experience.

The camera starts rolling, and Renee perks up in her chair.

"Hey guys what's up, my name is Renee Rapp and this is my lovely costar Y/N YL/N, and we're here with BuzzFeed to read our thirst tweets."

Y/N smiles softly at Renee as she speaks, turning to the camera playfully when she's done. "I'm so excited about this you have no idea. Let's see what our fans have to say."

The first tweet appeared on the phone, and the playful banter began.

Y/N giggles at the tweet, reading it out in between breaths. "Is it just me, or does Y/N's smile have the power to cure any bad day? Asking for a friend.'"

Y/N grins and looks up at Renee, and then back to the camera. "Well, I'm flattered. If my smile has that kind of power, maybe I should start offering smile therapy."

"I can attest to the smile therapy. It works wonders." Renee speaks with a smile that matches Y/N's, leaning forward in her chair like she's telling a secret.

Renee shakes her head with a shit-eating grin on her face at the next tweet, "I wish Renee Rapp and Y/N YL/N were my birth parents, actually no, I wish I was in a throuple with them."

Renee tilts her head, looking at the camera intently. "I think you need to decide if you wanna be in a throuple with your parents, and that's something you should talk to your therapist about. And I don't know who 'Y/N YL/N' is." Renee speaks with a laugh, looking over at Y/N.

Y/N has a tint of pink covering her cheeks as she shoves Renee's shoulder playfully. "that's, I need a minute to process that one" She giggles, scrolling to the next tweet.

As the tweets became bolder, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N intensified. The playful flirting was accompanied by shared laughter, and the studio audience couldn't get enough.

Y/N widens her eyes at this one, a silent laugh coming out of both Renee and her. 

"Perfect threesome? Me, Y/N YL/N, and a tub of peanut butter. How you feelin' about that one baby?" Renee murmurs, looking over at Y/N softly.

Y/N raises an eyebrow, her face scrunching into a grimace. "that-" she shrugs awkwardly as her face gets darker in a shade of maroon, "makes me feel weird."

Renee smirks as she sees the effect she had on Y/N, grabbing the phone gently from Y/N's hand and reading the next tweet.

"Renee Rapp I am simply just a hole for you."

Renee sits there in silence for a second, pushing her tongue against her cheek while she laughs. "And I am simply just a fucking- I'm a person, I'm a human being. What do you want me to do to your holes? Be more specific."

As the interview shifted back to a more traditional format, An interviewer named Taylor came in and decided to focus on the professional aspects of Renee Rapp and Y/N's collaboration on "Unveiling Hearts." The studio lights dimmed slightly, creating an intimate ambiance as Taylor delved into questions about their characters, on-screen dynamics, and the impact of the show.

Taylor greets both Y/N and Renee, getting into her questions smoothly. "Alright, let's talk about 'Unveiling Hearts.' The chemistry between your characters is undeniable. How do you both manage to bring such authenticity to your roles?"

"Well, I think it helps that Y/N and I have a natural connection. It's not hard to portray a convincing love story when you're working with someone as talented as her." Renee speaks as she looks at Y/N, grinning at her.

Y/N blushed as she looked away shyly, "Aw, thanks, Renee. It's definitely a collaborative effort. We bounce off each other's energy, on and off the set."

Taylor nods and moves right into another question, "Fans are loving the romantic storyline this season. Any hints you can give us about what's in store for your characters?"

"Let's just say there might be a few more unexpected twists and turns in the romance department. You'll have to tune in to see." Renee leaned in, speaking with a playful glint in her eyes.

Y/N matched Renee's expression, placing her hands on her lap. "Renee loves to keep me on my toes, both in the script and in real life."

As the interview progressed, Renee couldn't resist injecting a flirtatious edge into her responses, causing Y/N to squirm in her seat. The studio audience picked up on the dynamic between the two, and Taylor couldn't help but smile at the palpable chemistry.

Taylor smirks at the banter between the costars, "What's it like working together? Any memorable moments behind the scenes?"

Renee looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she narrowed them at her. "Oh, where do I begin? There are so many, I just can't choose. Probably that one time when we visited Paris, the Eiffel Tower was-

Y/N smacked Renee's arm quickly, but not hard enough to hurt her. "And that's enough out of her mouth." She spoke with a nervous grin, narrowing her eyes back at Renee.

The interviewer raised her eyebrows as the teasing continued, with Renee casually dropping endearments and playful comments throughout the interview.

"Working with Y/N is a dream. She's not just a talented co-star; she's my partner in crime, my confidante, my baby." Renee speaks with a flirty tone, gripping Y/N's knee and squeezing it softly before letting go.

At this point, Y/N's face was covered in a deep shade of maroon. "Okay, Renee, you're really going for it with the baby thing today."

Renee playfully flipped her hair and winked at Y/N, "Can't help it. It just feels right, baby."

The interview concluded with laughter and a lingering sense of warmth. The fans would undoubtedly dissect every word and gesture, adding a new layer to the mystery of the real-life connection between Renee Rapp and Y/N.

Renee wraps her arm around Y/N's shoulder as they finish reading the tweets, "Thanks for watching, hope you had fun, thank you for all these.. Very sweet.. Tweets, I will be thinking about them before I go to bed."

Y/N says to the camera, a false concern look on her face as she smiles at the camera, Renee and her waving as the screen fades to black.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Stinky Daddy /concept/

AN: i'm almost finished proofreading part. 14 of my housemate series. that should be out sometime this week. but for now, enjoy this little concept i came up with. make sure to leave your feedback. thank you! xoxo

This story contains: mentions of popping, slight swearing, fluff

{ husband!harry - dadrry - soft!harry - au!harry }

word count- 416

Harry runs out of toilet paper and when he calls out for you to bring him some more, he's surprised when your two year old daughter brings him some instead.

"Y/N, could you please bring me some toilet paper?" you hear Harry call from the master bathroom, reaching you in your daughter's bedroom. Finding humor in his forgetfulness, you devise a clever idea.

In a kneeling position, you kindly ask your two-year-old daughter, "Lucy, do you want to help daddy by bringing him some toilet paper?" She nods in agreement, and so you lead her to the hallway where the storage closet is found. You select a roll of toilet paper and give it to Lucy.

She runs off in the direction of your bathroom and you stand outside the door to hear their interaction.

Just as Harry was calling for you again, believing you might not have heard him the first time, little Lucy walks through the door with precisely what he needed. Thankfully, he has his hand positioned to shield himself, preventing his daughter from seeing anything she shouldn't see.

"To-paper, daddy?" Lucy asks, walking up to the toilet where Harry sits.

"Yeah baby, daddy needs some toilet paper." She hands him the roll and just stands there, not comprehending that he requires privacy for this task. "Um, why don't you go find mummy, okay. I'll be out in just a minute."

"Oh-tay, bye daddy. Love you."

With a light laugh, he replies back, "I love you too, m'love." Once she's left, he wraps up his business and steps out of the bathroom, only to find you and little Lucy having fun on the bed. Harry steps closer and whispers in your ear, "Why did you send our daughter into the bathroom with the toilet paper? Good thing I was already coverin' m'cock, or she could have seen me."

You honestly hadn't thought of that but are happy he was already covering himself. Shrugging, you answer, "I donno. Thought it'd be funny to send our daughter in. She came back holding her nose, saying, 'stinky daddy.'"

Harry laughs out loud. "Yeah, obviously. I was taking a shit. It wasn't gonna smell like roses."

Lucy looks up at her daddy and repeats to his face, "Stinky."

With his hands freshly cleaned, Harry leans over the toddler and begins to tickle her, quipping, "Yeah, well your poop doesn't smell delightful either. I can attest to that, havin' changed your rather smelly diapers, little one." The laughter from Lucy, spurred by the tickling, creates a ripple effect, leading to shared laughter among all three of you, as you enjoy a cherished family moment on the bed.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo // @lunabai // @ppleasingg

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my friend prayer doesn't work?

First things first, I am an antitheist. Not like those Redditors who outright mock any religious person they see, but in that I just believe the world would be a far better place without religion. I don't outright tell my religious friends that I think they're believing a lie unless I believe they need to hear it. After a shooting a couple blocks away from me, one such friend of mine, Layla (26F) offhandedly mentioned her praying for the families. The specific religious brainrot of "thoughts and prayers" enrages me so I decided to tell her that it won't help anything and is just hollow words. She was greatly offended and informed me that she does frequent charity work and that her prayer is just a "personal boost". Although I can attest to her advocacy, I think her equating something that actually has a tangible effect and something that's basically a magic spell is insulting. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[possamble]

Like take for example how she treats healing Laios leg!! We *never* see someone who was healed have lasting symptoms from a heal. It *itches* terribly — Laios looks like he will scratch it raw. The itching implies an incomplete heal — you only itch that bad when something is being regrown or scabbing like when you get tattoos. There’s something that needs to finish healing. This scene always stood out to me— because Falin notices and *heals* it. And that brought up a ton of questions for me (We see her cast magic, was it to soothe the itching? A phantom pain? Why was it itching in the first place? Didn’t Marcille finish the job? Why was he having after effects we never see someone have any before?) and i’m breaking my brain over it because is this an sign of Marcille’s engagement with healing in general? Perfunctory—a means to an end? Morals? I feel like there is something there for us because that scene wasn’t necessary to the plot so why did Ryoko Kui add this interaction? I think how Marcille engages with healing was telling us a lot more than I previously realized because she was in a medical researcher position before coming into the dungeon however when we see how this was practically applied by her was really interesting!! She’s so divorced from feeling empathy for the pain of healing and i think that’s some sort of self-preservation instinct. Idk i just feel like her engagement with healing is so fucking fascinating when juxtaposed with her beliefs on death pls share thots if any

I think what gets hidden in the details about Marcille’s healing is that no, she’s not a talented cleric and healer in the way that Falin is. But Fantasy settings tend to relegate healing towards “holy” and “good” magic that never causes harm—

and Marcille is what you’d get if you put a doctor and a surgeon with a modern, more realistic approach towards medicine in a genre that doesn’t usually allow for that. 

Like, you’ll see surgeons or doctors secretly being incredibly efficient serial killers in TV thrillers everywhere—but a fantasy series with a cleric or healer that’s secretly great at killing is a bit more rare to find(though not nonexistent, admittedly). Healing magic tends to be painted as either a religious discipline that’s not accessible to those who don’t have a tie to a deity or some ineffable force in the universe, or a matter of accessing some natural “life force” that exists in all living beings. 

Dungeon Meshi, of course, loves bending fantasy conventions in the most incredible ways, so that’s not how it works here. The series allows itself to contend with the fact that healing a human body requires extensive and painstakingly detailed knowledge of that body.

The reason that Falin might appear to be a much more talented healer than Marcille is because Kui dresses her up in all the archetypal traits of a Caring Cleric, and that immediately clicks with readers expecting fantasy conventions in ways that Marcille's expertise doesn't.

This isn’t to discredit Falin, obviously. She is a talented healer, as attested to by Marcille herself:

But the interesting thing is that she does it all on instinct, so it’s not an exact knowledge. Furthermore, she uses the gnomish system of healing, which is implied to rely more on the judgment and knowledge of natural spirits (and therefore takes less mana). So it’s not hard to imagine that she would have less exact knowledge of how the human body operates than Marcille does as a medical researcher. 

And that in and of itself raises questions: In a world where magic can immediately re-attach a limb, why would medical research be necessary? But Dungeon Meshi makes it clear that healing magic isn’t perfect, nor “holy” magic—it’s simply magic, like any other, carefully tailored to operate within the confines of what a human body needs in order to keep living. It’s not able to cure everything, and it especially seems to have gaps in terms of being able to treat illnesses that aren’t immediately solvable injuries.

And that all ties into Marcille's attitude towards it: It's a scientific and magical discipline like any other that requires careful study. There's nothing inherently good or bad about it—it was made by people, for people, and what matters is how you use it.

So, Marcille was at the academy, studying the ways that illness happens in a body, and carefully writing new magic to counteract or at least mitigate it.

(How I interpreted this was that she was likely part of research teams dealing with complicated things like autoimmune diseases, cancer, and other things where the body isn’t technically injured by a foreign element, but erroneously harming itself due to internal reasons.)

For me, this kind of explains her approach to pain in healing:

Honestly, what this immediately reminded me of was that a friend of mine had to have surgery on their throat when they were younger, and part of the procedure was waking them up without anaesthesia right after the surgery to make sure that they could still feel everything. They told me it was the worst pain they’d ever felt in their entire life—but from a medical perspective, it was necessary to make sure that none of the critical nerves in the neck had been affected. 

Sometimes in medicine, pain is necessary because it’s not some uncomplicated and bad thing—it’s a response of your nervous system, and sometimes the only indicator that your body is still working the way it should. And I think this is the mindset that Marcille has, which is why she seems so blase about it—she doesn’t think that she’s actually hurting people, it’s just a necessary part of the healing process. 

And in some ways, she just sees it as a realistic downside of the fact that you have to recover quickly in dungeon situations:

Normal recovery would take months. Healing magic shortens that to a few seconds. The pain is a result/tradeoff of forcing something that would naturally take a long time into such a short timespan. This all makes sense and is Right and Correct and Normal in Marcille's mind. It's not that she lacks empathy and doesn't care enough about not harming her patients: she doesn't think that it's "harm" at all.

Not a shred of guilt in that face before causing extreme pain. Contrast this to her constant fussing over Izutsumi on the smallest things—it's hard to believe she wouldn't even be a little apologetic if she actually believed this would be hurtful in a way that matters.

I think this is overall, less indicative of any lack of empathy so much as her incredibly stubborn and sometimes ridiculous way of compartmentalizing things to her own internal rules. I’d even argue that this mindset is preferable in surface situations, where people have the luxury of time. Dungeon healing hurts because it has to be fast and instantaneous—but if you're just treating a broken bone that can be put in a cast with slower healing magic to help, wouldn't you prefer that over an instant heal with the chance to cause brain damage, no matter how minuscule the chance is? Shouldn’t your long-term health matter more than short-term recovery and some pain?

To touch on Laios’s leg injury—we actually do see this kind of reaction to healing magic later on in the manga. When Marcille is teaching Laios how to heal, she ends up bowling him over because her cut gets super itchy:

but then she reacts positively and tells him that it's supposed to happen, before trusting him enough to try it on Senshi.

So while yes, it was an “incomplete” heal, I don’t think it was particularly telling about her approach to healing. And honestly, judging by the fact that it only distracted him when he was relaxed enough to be cleaning his armour before bed, it looks like she connected all the major muscles and nerves enough not to cause pain or risk re-injury by moving, but just left superficial stuff for Laios’s body to naturally heal. 

Her mindset makes sense in context: She also had to heal Chilchuck and Senshi, while conserving enough energy to immediately start digging for Falin’s body and potentially do a very taxing resurrection spell as soon as possible. 

After that, Falin healed the rest of Laios’s leg injury in a situation where it wasn’t needed, but there were no other high stakes to discourage it. Also, she can’t bear to see others in pain. ambrosiagourmet already did an incredible analysis of how this empathy doesn't really signify perfect altruism so much as Falin's deep discomfort with having to witness pain, so I won't go into that too much—but the important part is, Falin isn't inherently a more caring healer than Marcille. They are both making decisions for the patient based on their own approaches to healing—it's just that Falin's approach is preferable for dungeoneering overall.

(In Marcille's defense, it seems that dungeons are an incredibly specific environment that falls way outside the realm of what's actually taught to mages in most schools. Being a combat-oriented mage actually seems pretty frowned upon.)

So, in a lot of ways, Marcille is both realistic about dungeon healing (mana conservation by not doing full heals when not necessary, thinking about pain as the condensation of the time it would have taken to naturally heal, etc.) and very unrealistic about it. What she doesn’t realize is that the pain matters: In a dungeon, people have to be up and ready to continue right away, over and over. If it hurts every time, that makes them very averse to being healed, stressed out about getting injured, and affects their performance as dungeoneers.

All that to say… I personally believe that Marcille is very passionate about healing people. Not healing magic necessarily, but medicine as a whole. It’s not just a means to an end—it’s her main area of study only second to her research into ancient magic. And sure, she might have gotten into it because of her fear of death—but what I think people don’t give enough credit to is that her motivations changed from when she was a child. 

You see it here, when she’s laying her dream outright to the Winged Lion: 

She might be kinda racist herself, hypocritical, and short-sighted (mostly out of ignorance, I’d argue), but at heart, she hates that people hurt each other. She hates that long-lived races look down on everyone else just because of lifespan. She has—arguably very correctly—identified the disparity in lifespans as one of the main causes of interracial strife, and she wants to get rid of it so that everyone can fully understand and relate to each other as equals. 

And in some ways, it’s not even that insane of a dream. 

Knowing that people used to live as long as she’ll have to, and something changed in the eons since, is it really that weird for her to want to change it back somehow? 

But all that aside—the most important part of this to me is that… originally, she wasn’t actually that hung up on completely equalizing lifespans. She got into medicine because she wanted to, at the very least, close the gap as much as she could in her very long life. 

She was realistic about it at first. She thought that, by studying ancient magic’s ability to pull from the infinite, she could harness that infinite energy in tandem with medical knowledge to give more life to the short-lived races. 

But as she says it herself, it changed when she realized that she doesn’t have time to gradually unravel it on her own. 

So, yes. She got desperate. She got crazy. In light of all she did as dungeon lord, it’s easy to assume that she never cared much about healing as a profession, and is just a self-obsessed little girl caged by her trauma and trying to change the entire world to make sure she doesn’t have to be hurt. 

And… she is all that. She's my blorbo supreme but I'll be the first to insist that she is very much a complete hot mess. But my point is that these were very extreme circumstances, and Ryoko Kui has given us all the understated evidence we need to know that she’s actually a very passionate doctor otherwise. This is the girl who freaks out if she’s not useful to other people and not allowed to help:

Did actually get excited about making safe dungeons for helpful purposes beyond just learning more about ancient magic to fulfill her dream: 

And in tandem with her own personal trauma—not in opposition to it or to obscure it—cared about making life more peaceful and equal for everyone in the world. Not to mention, she had to have done some insane work to be acknowledged as the most talented researcher at the academy and be allowed onto teams that were researching new healing magics.

TL:DR, I think she has a lot of empathy for people and passion for helping them, it’s just expressed in a way you wouldn’t expect in a fantasy because Ryoko Kui doesn’t fuck around with her storytelling and genre subversion. She might not be a good archetypal healer, but she's an extremely knowledgeable doctor with a point-blank and intense attitude towards healing and medical treatment (see: her strictness about physical touch when teaching Laios about healing).

For me, all evidence points towards her going back to what she was doing before the story on top of her duties as Court Mage, kind of becoming a sort of Surgeon General for Melini as the head of health and safety for the country and whatnot. 

PS. I will admit that there's explicit evidence she's not good at healing here:

But this was also like... chapter 3. Written years ago. I personally feel that everything Kui has said about Marcille's background since is enough evidence that it was just a one-off joke before she had an airtight idea about who Marcille was and would be, but I'll concede that it's mostly conjecture.

But again, as I said, I believe that while she might not be the best at the heal spell that's used in Dungeons, she's passionate about being a medical researcher and the field of medicine as a whole.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Oh, I have an idea for a Mermay! If you would like to write it: merformers Megatron being tangled in a net or something and the waves threw him on the beach and he can't go back to water. When the (gn) reader finds him he's scared that they will use his vulnerable moment to hurt him but they go like: "Wow! You're gorgeous! Oh! And you need my help!" And they help untangle him and roll him back to the sea. What do you think?

Absolutely! Mermay may have passed but I'll still be answering these asks because I'm slow, so don't worry if you left any but I haven't answered yet! Also feel free to leave more as it turns out I really like writing merbots!

Apologies for the low writing volume as of late, the hits just keep on coming, and with my area of the country taking wildfire smoke I swear thinking has never felt more difficult...

Megatron was certain he was done for.

He should have known his fate was sealed the moment the harpoon had pierced his side, especially with the weight of a powerful net dragging on his every move and tangling his limbs the more he struggled, but he'd dared to hope he had a chance after managing to swim away. It was only when exhaustion had allowed the waves to force him to shore, his colossal frame crashing against the rocks in a heap so tangled he was effectively immobilized, that he had accepted the inevitable. All the weary old mech could hope for now was to be finished off by the harpoon before he was discovered by those who'd wounded him.

Memories of a long, violent life played before his optics as the waters receded and the stars began to fade with the arrival of the day, the cries of seagulls growing louder as they woke to feed and curiously circled overhead. It wasn't the end he'd wanted, but it also didn't surprise him in the slightest. He'd never been able to find peace, as the scars across his frame could attest, so he could have predicted his spark extinguishing under such painful circumstances. Perhaps the Allspark would finally allow him to rest...

He was so exhausted he barely heard the soft patter of bare feet approaching over stone and sand. 

You had been hoping to find treasures from the sea along the rocky shore when you'd woken up well before the crack of dawn, but as you approached the massive unknown thing that had washed up overnight, you couldn't have prepared for what greeted the beam from your flashlight. Silver armor tangled within the heaviest netting you'd ever seen was all you could make out at first, but more careful observations revealed a fluke the size of a large tree trunk, atop which you found a massive metal torso with its limbs bound at the front. Your heart hammered as you approached despite your better judgment, some unspeakable instinct telling you that the being before you was in a great deal of pain. You realized you were beholding a real live Thalassicon the moment your light found his face and he opened a pair of brilliant red optics, their pale iris constricting then dilating as they focused on your eyes. Fear reflected between the both of you in equal measure.

When he returned to his prone position as if to surrender without a fight, you caught a wince of pain and a pink glow along his side, which brought your eyes and the flashlight beam to a massive harpoon jutting from behind his arm. Instinctive concern welled up within you, and the haggard breaths from his vents made you certain he was enduring a great deal of agony despite his calm appearance. No amount of common sense could compel you to leave anyone to so much suffering. Coming round to his head, you aimed the flashlight to the ground so as not to strain his optics. 

"Do you... need help?" you asked uncertainly, not sure how to better phrase the question. 

He looked back at you, making a sound like a strained scoff of disbelief. His voice rumbled like a heavy wave rolling over a rocky shore as he rested his helm against the stone. "Would it matter if I did?"

"I... think so? Because I can probably help you out a bit." you said, getting a bit more of a hold over yourself. It seemed likely that you could help him escape the net, but you were going to need him to work with you, and even if he'd given up you weren't about to just let him die. Loving the ocean extended to everything living within, and that included Thalassicons, as alien to the planet as they may have been. Reaching for the tiny toolkit you kept in your bag, you were surprised when the production of a small knife made the mech tense in alarm.

"Why are you here? Are more of you coming?" he asked with his full attention on the little blade. It wasn't enough to do more than cause him a minor bit of harm, but as he'd already endured plenty of that, he had no interest in letting blind trust cost him an optic. You seemed surprised and confused by the question, which ironically made him trust that you weren't planning any harm. Humans had never bothered to feign kindness for him anyway.

"There might be more people coming once the sun actually comes up, but I tend to be the only one up this early." you explained, trying to answer the question as best you could. The answer made him tilt his helm and raise a brow, compelling you to elaborate further. "Now's the best time to collect shells. The tide is going out, but no one else is up yet. Anyway, I just got this knife, let me see if it's sharp enough to cut you free."

"You're very trusting. Are you not afraid of my kind?" he asked before you could begin, giving you a bit of pause. The whole situation was odd, but you were quite perplexed as to why this very obviously struggling bot would try so hard to convince you not to help him. It only made you all the more determined to help, but it seemed you would need to convince him not only of your intentions, but to work with you to save himself. 

"I've never actually met a Thalassicon before, but you all don't seem to start fights with humans most of the time." you said as you put the flashlight down and aimed it over where you'd be working. Dropping to your knees but keeping a final foot of space between you both, you held up your tiny knife and gestured to his tangled limbs, certain you could work at least one free with enough cutting. "If I help you get your arms free, can you pull yourself out of this net?"

Still burnt out on hope, Megatron didn't dare to believe he was really getting out of this situation, but decided he had nothing better to do than play along. Even if you were some kind of government agent playing a long game, it was more interesting to see what your plan was than to wait to bleed to death. Flexing his arms to test the net's resistance, he found them folded against his front but otherwise unharmed, and while he was incapable of reaching the harpoon he had no doubt he could untangle himself if even one limb was freed. "Possibly." he conceded, remaining limp so that you could work.

"Worth a try, then." you said with a bit of inflated confidence, still unable to believe what you had gotten yourself into. Biting your lip and committing to your desire to help, you grabbed a random section of net and began to cut. Straight away you found progress to be definite but slow, the sharp blade taking its sweet time to carve through the reinforced material even as you pushed the sharpened edge down with all of your strength. "Ugh, this might take a second, these are some seriously thick ropes."

"Take all the time you need, I'm certainly not going anywhere." he replied with a sarcastic flop of his fluke against the stones, emphasizing his lack of options. You'd have possibly found it funny were you not carving through the stubborn netting with all of your strength, jaw set tight and brows furrowed in deep concentration as you looked for possible shortcuts. It wasn't like you had all the time in the world to cut him loose. The sun would soon be peeking over the horizon, and when it did you had no doubt that other humans would be coming to the beach, some of whom you couldn't trust not to sound the alarm. Many members of your species looked on his with open fear and boundless hostility.

"Hold on, if I'm able to tear this one... ouch!" you hissed as the knife nicked your palm, compelling on you to suck at the little cut before getting back to work. Your lack of hesitation to push on surprised him even more than your initial offer of aid, and for the first time he dared to believe you might be genuine in your desire to help. He could already feel his arm gaining wiggle room with every sliced rope, the heavy weight around his limbs needing only a little bit more of a reduction before he was confident his strength would prove sufficient to break free. Sweat had begun to bead on your forehead when you gave a growl of frustration and sliced through two more holes to free his arm. "Just one second, I've almost got it... there! Can you help me work your arm out?"

"Yes, one moment." he said, barely hiding the anticipation he couldn't suppress. Still mostly immobilized, he tried to work his arm free with a shift of his shoulders, only to receive a lightning bolt of pain as the harpoon was jostled by the movement. Roaring in agony, he went limp save for a full body shudder of pain, fresh energon flowing down his side. 

You jumped to help but pulled back when he hissed in instinctive fear, vents coming in hard and fast before the initial burst of pain began to fade and he calmed down. Looking around for potential witnesses with growing concern for the lack of time, you finally settled on the only thing you had resembling a plan, ignoring every bit of common sense you had saying it was a bad idea. "Would it help if that thing came out first?"

"It... it might. But I cannot reach it." he said weakly, once more feeling the urge to lie limp and allow fate to claim him. You'd proven an interesting diversion from his demise, but it was physically impossible for him to free himself. Between the restraint and the agony he felt when trying to move, there was nothing his great strength could do for him, and the steady flow of energon from his wound was taking even that away. Self repair couldn't initiate with the offending projectile still lodged under his armor.

"How deep is it? If it doesn't need too much of a pull, I can probably take it out." you offered, self preservation briefly taking a backseat to concern. It wasn't fair for anyone to suffer like this, and despite the danger you felt compelled to do whatever a squishy human body could to help. The Thalassicon stiffened at the suggestion, compelling you to drop to your knees and talk face to face to convince him you meant no harm. This wasn't something you could attempt without his full cooperation. "Do you trust me to do that?"

Megatron was silent as he eyed you up and down, looking for signs of the betrayal he'd been certain was coming but finding only earnest desperation in your face. It would be foolish to take you up on your offer considering his history with your kind, but with the harpoon scraping his insides during every ventilation, he was compelled once more to accept out of a lack of alternate options. All you could really do was help him, or end him that much quicker. 

"I cannot leave while it's there, I suppose I have little choice." he muttered bitterly, distrust coloring every word to make it apparent this wasn't a choice he enjoyed. It wasn't an enthusiastic assent, but you took it regardless, stepping back to try and figure out how to best approach the problem when the mech spoke up with far more force. A piercing look from his bright red optics made you flinch with each harsh syllable. "Just be quick about it, and know I will take you with me if you get any ideas."

"Okay. Fair enough. I'll climb on up, just hang tight." you conceded quickly, hands up in a brief gesture of surrender to show you understood. One thrash of his massive tail could easily turn you to paste, so you were equally serious in your promise not to try anything unexpected. Fully aware of his optics watching your every move, you climbed up his shoulder by using the net as a makeshift climbing aid and his armor as handholds, following the trail of bleeding energon until you arrived at his back.

When you stood up to face the harpoon for inspection, you were shocked to find it jutting out as far as you were tall, the heavy metal gleaming even in the darkness as if it was smelted from something unnatural. Ignoring the chill the weapon created in your gut, you angled your phone light to try and get a better idea of how to proceed. The sight of the ragged wound torn into his armor made you flinch in sympathy, and even without medical experience you could tell it had been yanked about as the mech had struggled against his attempted captors. The painful site left you stumped until you realized the roughness of the wound would actually work in your favor. Struggling hadn't just moved the harpoon, it had pulled it most of the way out, far enough that you were confident in your ability to pull it the rest of the way.

"I'll try to remove it as fast as I can, I'm sorry if this hurts." you said as you grabbed the frigid piece of metal, hoping you sounded confident just for his sake. All of him stiffened beneath you, but he made no further movements, remaining silent as you secured your grip and set your feet. 

"Okay. Here I go!" you announced as you sucked in a breath, clenching your shoulders before you pulled with all of your might. At first you felt nothing but his tremble of pain, which compelled you to square your jaw and lean backwards so your weight could assist, every ounce of your willpower pouring itself into the task at hand. After a few unproductive moments the harpoon slid an inch upwards, compelling you to double down until your knuckles paled and veins throbbed along your skin. The Thalassicon hissed when you felt something under the surface give way, and the weapon popped free of the wound in a single motion that sent you toppling backwards just as the mech arched his frame and roared in pain.

Soft sand met your back as you were thrown clear, the harpoon clattering over the stones as you sat up in a daze to find the mech tearing from the net and standing upright on his tail as he shredded the restraints with a growl and tossed the remains aside. The sudden show of motion was reassuring, but the sight of fresh energon running down his side made you fear you'd only made the situation much worse. "It's bleeding, did I make it worse?!"

Your words seemed to surprise him, almost as if he'd forgotten you were there in the rush, but he turned and gingerly probed the wound with much more freedom of movement than he'd had before. "No... It will clear itself and then my self repair will begin..." he explained, relaxing his mighty shoulders as the fact he'd be okay settled over you both. Now able to see the full extent of his size and strength, you felt even smaller as he dropped back down onto his front to speak to you, expression softening in relief and gratitude as he met your gaze. "Thank you. I would not have survived if that remained in my hide."

"Don't mention it." you replied breathlessly, surprising him once more as you made no attempt to request a reward for your services. Rather, you looked at him with concern, your eyes lingering on his injuries as you picked yourself up off the sand. "Are you... good to go? The beach will probably start to see its first visitors before long."

"I can see myself off. For your own sake, it is best you pretend we didn't meet." he answered quickly, pushing himself along the rocks until he came to the edge. For all of his desire to know more about the most peculiar human he'd ever met, it was better for both of you if he cleared out quickly. There was no telling what his attempted captors would do to those who aided him, and you didn't seem like the type to leave well enough alone even if your life was on the line. Knowing that didn't stop him from hesitating as he planned the best way to drop into the dark water below.

"Oh... okay." you said, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice. You'd come to the beach with the intention of finding some beautiful sea life, and while you'd succeeded, it was still hard to accept this one wouldn't be coming home with you. Unwilling to let him go straight away, you stalled with another glance at his injuries, hoping that even if you didn't see him again you would know he was safe out there. "Are you sure you're okay? That looks really bad."

"I have endured far worse, it will heal." he promised, already planning to seek out the deep sea supplies he knew would help him heal. Compared to what he'd suffered before at the hands of humans and bots alike, this was nothing now that he had the freedom to move and swim. The news made you smile, and his spark was so softened by your continued compassion he couldn't bear to leave without some show of gratitude. "Before I leave, allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Megatron."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N." you replied eagerly, wishing the first tendrils of the sunrise shining over the ocean would give you just a few more minutes. Unable to think of all you wanted to say, you ignored the hurt in your heart to bid him farewell, putting your wishes into words so they might come true. "I hope I can see you again sometime, under better circumstances."

"Perhaps, if fate allows. It would not be in your best interest, however." he replied much more sagely, swinging his tail over the edge but holding on with his upper arms. In the moments before he descended further, the position allowed the two of you to come face to face once more, and it was his turn to smile fondly as you bid him farewell.

"I don't really mind. Safe travels, Megatron."

[mandarinmoons]

Hi! i saw the other request and this came to mind!

reader and reid are in a situationship (not relationship) one night reader gets drunk and kisses someone else and reid sees it and gets jealous and kinda disappointed?? but he has to take her home, she asks him to stay but he doesnt wants to cajse hes mad Andd idk something like that but with happy ending pls 😩 if u dont want to dont do it Its ok <3 <3

Ofc i want to <3

You and Spencer had quite a unique relationship. At work you two were professional coworkers who were also good friends, but behind closed doors you two could be considered as more than friends. Cuddling, the occasional kiss or two or full blown making out, it was something you two kept to yourself. You both previously had bad luck in the romance game and would agree to keep things casual, nothing serious but as humans are, have a need for love and care, both of you agreed to offer it to one another.

It was hard to keep it to yourselves at times. Sometimes you had a desperate need to be in Spencer’s arms, but you were at work and had to keep your needs to yourself until both you and Spencer were in the safeness of your four walls.

One night you and the team headed out for drinks to celebrate a case that took over 3 months to solve. You were going to get wasted and if you were going to end up getting all touchy feely with Spencer you could attest that it was the alcohol talking, a solid alibi and no one would think that there was something going on between you and your close coworker.

Some hours in and a few cocktails and shots later, the booze had taken its effect and made you into a giggly and affectionate mess. After your first drink you were slightly cuddling into Spencer’s side, but now you had your arms wrapped around his neck and occasionally pressed a few kisses against his cheek.

"Who knew Y/N was so affectionate,” Emily laughed.

“Yeah what’s a man gotta do to have ‘em here all up in my arms,” Derek chimed in.

You scoffed and tightened your hold on Spencer’s neck, “If you know how to turn yourself pretty like Spencer over here, then you can give me a call.”

The whole team chuckled and a blush creeped on Spencer’s cheeks, although he did love the affection he was receiving from you he was a bit nervous about your little shared secret coming to light.

“Y/N, hey, I’ll get you some water okay? I don’t want you to have too bad of a headache in the morning.”

“Fineee,” you pouted as Spencer lightly took a hold of your hands and unraveled them from around him. You watched as he walked off and chuckled to yourself as your eyes did land on his rear, and you liked what you saw.

In your head for what seemed like 10 minutes, which was probably only 2, you stood up and headed towards the bar to find your special friend. You leaned your arms on the counter to try and steady yourself and felt a hand on your arm.

“Hey, you okay there?”

You nodded and looked up to see Spencer looking at you with concerned eyes, or what looked to be Spencer. Your vision was a bit blurry, but you could still make out the sharp jawline and brown eyes that you adored.

“I missed you.”

“Did you?” the man chuckled and caressed your arm.

You nodded and leaned closer and pecked his lips lightly, which turned into a deeper kiss a moment later.

All of a sudden you felt yourself be pulled back by a forceful tug, “What’re you doing?!”

You looked up and saw a very clearly heated Spencer, his eyebrows were furrowed and you could make out a vein protruding from the side of his forehead, the man you had just kissed was not him.

“Spence I-”

“I’m taking you home, now.”

Spencer’s grip on your arm was gentle yet firm as he dragged you to the table the team was sitting at, took your coat and said good night to everyone, before turning around with you in his arms and headed to his car.

The ride back to your apartment was silent. You may have been inebriated, but you could tell that Spencer was pissed. Why should he be though? You weren’t a couple so what’s the problem? Well, the boundaries you both set up were kind of blurry and over time you both seemed to cross them more and more. You wouldn’t be able to lie to yourself that you didn’t feel something towards him if you were to see Spencer kissing someone else, the thought made your stomach churn, or maybe that was the alcohol? No, this was different.

After helping you up the stairs, lying you down on the couch and draping a blanket over you, Spencer turned on his heel and turned towards the door.

"Spence, wait!”

Spencer turned around and clenched his jaw as he glanced at you, you had never seen him be this pissed off.

“I thought that it was you I… I’m sorry,” tears pricked to your eyes and your voice wavered, you couldn’t lose him, not right now.

Spencer sighed and cast his eyes down before slowly moving towards your way and sat down next to you. You hugged him and he wrapped his arms around you gently, one of his hands cradling your head.

"Please stay.”

Spencer nodded and tightened his hold on you, “I will sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Soon enough you fell asleep on his shoulder and Spencer moved so you both were laying down on the couch. He pulled the blanket over both of you and pulled you close to his chest, kissing your head and smiled when he felt you nuzzling into his neck.

Spencer knew that he couldn’t keep this up any longer, his feelings for you had grown quite strong and he didn’t want to keep sneaking around. He knew that it wasn’t other people’s business as to what was going on in his love life, but it felt unfair on you and him that he had to keep this under wraps when you were the reason he was so happy after a long while.

He sighed as he caressed your back and admired your peaceful face. This was it, he had to talk to you in the morning.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence

@sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna

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My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

[seanconneraille]

I've seen people talk about how the best way to tell when a loaf of bread is ready is to stick your dick in it and as a French person i can attest that this method works. Also for people who don't have a dick you can stick the bread in your ass and it works the same. It is known as the infamous Danton Q method. The Danton Q method is approved by French bread specialists. The Danton Q method is extremely effective, has scientific basis and has been used in France since the French revolution.