#med-ler

[plague-doctor-medler]

Plague Doctor Med-ler Art

Lyesander did this amazing commission piece of Plague Doctor Med-ler! I'm so excited to share this all with you! Thanks @lyesander!

[ask-doctor-med-ler]

Hey its me Evil-ler~ tbh what do u think of me being a villain?

Officially in the medical field, I am not supposed to be biased. We treat everyone the same regardless of what they do outside of the hospital.

Personally, though if you go around physically hurting other people, we're going to have words. It makes a lot more work for me, and I'm not a fan of anyone who physically harms others. Especially for fun.

Outside of that, though. Evil away?

[feathergil]

OH EM GEE VOLTRON MOMENT!?!?!? (I just read your fandom list sldkjsd)

it'd be really slay if I could request ler!lance lee!Keith /NF THO cuz like yeah :thumbsup:

DONT FORGET YOU STAY HYDRATED AND TAKE YOUR MEDS IF YOU NEED TO AND EAT SOMETHING MR. SLAY MAN !!!!!!

i miss them. i wish gay people were real

[jey-chan]

Im more sleppy than awake and bored in the job but... what if panthom planet happened when Danny is part of the Justice Leage? And they think he is an old ghost shaped like a kid.

I just imagine the leage seing the prety big bad asteroid that neiter sups can destroid.

And then Danny just goes sesrshing in his chest for someting, give Batman 2 pices of papers and goes:

"Here is my standars vitals, my gostly med and please dont wite cost. This is my sister info and my identidy will get compromised, so dont let mh parents come in if Martian dosent feel they could change views on ghosts. Oh ghe WIG is bad and please dont let val near me never... he is creppy"

Then he goes to superman and ask him to catch him.

And beflre anoye can ask or say someting the kid goes tl the sky, freze the metiorite and then ler out the most terrible and powerful sound base atackt that the earth had ever hear.

The laments of a kid that died, of a kid that had the fates of two worlds on his shoulders.

The cry of a dead child thar never was griven.

The metiorite goes upnon fine snow dust, and superman sudenly has a prety alive unconsius child phamtom.

[vasilek-ymep]

my lorax au once-ler (Drug-Ler/Junk-Ler/Weed-Ler/Addict-Ler or just Torchalkins)

translation of the interview 1997:

Jane: We haven't been able to contact You for a long time. Are You always so busy, or is there some other reason?

Once-ler: Yes, I work all the time. The corporation isn't standing still. I'm directly involved in the development of new and more advanced 'drugs' .

Jane: Is 'Dr.' Moore after all?

Once-ler: (laughs) You could say that.

Jane: The our article title is 'Sweet 16x2'. How do You feel at 32?

Once-ler: I feel great. I can't believe it's been so long! This age was always seemed unattainable and very far away to me. Especially at the 16.

Jane: The article should have been called 'Sweet 16'!

Once-ler: (laughs) maybe!

Jane: You haven't changed much. What's the secret?

Once-ler: There are no secrets. I just don't drink or get drugs.

Jane: That's good. Now many people are addicted. Especially teenagers.

Once-ler: It scares me.

Jane: Is Your company RSGS MED CORP aimed at combating teenage alcoholism and drug addiction?

Once-ler: Yes, that's right. It needs to be eradicated.

Jane: I like Your attitude!

Once-ler: Likewise, Jane.

Jane: It's great that You took the time for a little interview. You haven't appeared on TV since the 1990s. What is the reason?

Once-ler: I try to exclude TV from my life. It spoils the nerves. There are no promising shows for me at the moment where I would like to appear.

Jane: Mr. Moore, You have become a sex symbol of the 80s. It's already the 97th year, and You still remain the idol for teens. Tell us about Your views on life.

Once-ler: I think everyone should appreciate the time that God has given us. Every second should be spent usefully. Communication gives us a lot. You need to strive to get to know new people in order to gain experience from them. Of course, the most important thing in life is mental balance, career and family.

Jane: (laughs) arranged in decreasing order of importance for You?

Once-ler: (laughs) Almost.

Jane: My newspaper has received a lot of questions from fans about what You're listening to. Tell us about Your favorite musicians.

Once-ler: I really like Prince!

Jane: Exactly, how could I forget. You have his guitar?

Once-ler: Yes, yes!

Jane: A gift?

Once-ler: Yes, we contacted.

Jane: Which his song do You like the most?

Once-ler: 'Soft and Wet'.

Jane: (laughs) Exotic and sexy!

Jane: In '89 You released Your album under the label 'Crystal', and in '91 You starred in the musical 'Go Billy Gox3'. What was the reason to stop trying to enter a musical career?

Once-ler: Perhaps a criticism. You know, I've always loved funk and rhythm-and-blues more, but my voice is too low to compete with Sly & the Family Stone or Talking Heads.

Jane: I think You'll find Your genre!

Once-ler: (laughs) No, no, I'm not into music.

Jane: You've been in three films. Are You planning to shoot more?

Once-ler: I would like to. So far, there are no scripts that I like.

Jane: Really?!

Once-ler: Alas!

Jane: Tell us about Your favorite actors and films.

Once-ler: Audrey and Ted Wiggins definitely!

Jane: Such a quick response. What kind of paintings do you like with them?

Once-ler: 'Sweet Blood'. All the parts.

Jane: Wow!

Once-ler: I like the theme of inquisitions and steampunk... and vampires, of course! (laughs)

Jane: What do You think about the progressive-anarchic views of life of young people?

Once-ler: I think this is maximalism.

Jane: Were you like that?

Once-ler: Perhaps! It's just that my environment is enviably full of aggressive fanatics. I know you're going to read this, American!

Jane: (laughs) Is there a problem with your cousin?

Once-ler: Conflicts of worldviews.

Jane: You have a direct influence on American politics. Why haven't You been running for president yet?

Once-ler: I'm a pharmacist. I doubt that I can make America strong if I become president.

Jane: Are You a patriot?

Once-ler: True. I protect my homeland from people like me. (laughs)

Jane: Tell readers Your favorite books.

Once-ler: Read McDonagh.

Jane: The Scotsman?

Once-ler: The Irishman. But it seems to me that these are familiar problems for our country.

Jane: You've written two books about finding yourself. Is this an important issue for You?

Once-ler: Very much. As I said before, balance in the soul is a balance in life.

Jane: It's inspiring!

Jane: Are You still single? Or have You got a partner?

Once-ler: I haven't found the right person for me yet.

Jane: In the future, can I leave you my number? (laughs)

Once-ler: I'm yours! (laughs)

Jane: We don't know much about Your personal life outside of the media amplua. Why is that?

Once-ler: I prefer to be in the circle of friends and family without prying eyes.

Jane: Do You like being alone?

Once-ler: Perhaps…

Jane: Thank You, Mr. Moore!

Once-ler: It was a pleasure to answer Your questions!

Jane: You're very sweet. You seem so serious on TV!

Once-ler: Really?! How embarrassing…

Jane: It's even entertaining!

[aninklingof]

Head Hips Massager

Couldn’t get this concept out of my head, so I wrote on it. 🤷

Lee! George, Ler! Dream

Warnings: tool tickles ✨Platonic✨

Enjoy!

~~~~~

Dream slowly closed the front door so that it wouldn’t make noise, the lock clicking securely before the blonde tip-toed down the hall. He was returning from a Walmart trip— which he’d initially just gone for groceries. While at the store however, he got a message from George.

He had texted Dream asking if he’d buy the British man a heating pad. Having just gotten back from the Bahamas and being immediately thrown into many wild activities with friends that had come to visit, George’s back was sore.

Of course Dream obliged and headed to the health and wellness isles. As he scanned the shelves for a suitable heating pad for the older (which he was definitely going to tease him about his age when he got home) he spotted something that caught his attention.

Hanging on a mini rack from one of the shelves was a bunch of wire-head massagers. Dream’s mind immediately shot to how one of those would feel running over his sensitive skin, his face flushing subtly and butterflies filling his belly.

He then thought of George at home, and how the poor Brit would howl at the evil massager tickling his ribs and especially his bony hips. Smirking widely at the thought he snatched one of the massagers up and dropped it into the handheld basket on his arm before returning to the task at hand.

Now that he was back at the Dream Team house, he unloaded the groceries as quietly as possible to not alert the brunette to his presence. Once finished he scooped up the heating pad, along with a glass of water, some pain medicine, and the massager and headed up the stairs to George’s room.

Dream tapped the door with his foot to knock (his hands being full) and waited for an answer, reeling in his giddy smile so that he didn’t key in George to his devious plan.

“Come in.”

“I can’t, my hands are full.”

Some rustling and soft footsteps were heard before the door swung open. George looked up at Dream curiously before melting into a soft smile, his hair slightly disheveled and his clothes wrinkly.

“I bought you the heating pad, and I also brought you some pain meds and water,” Dream spoke as he strode into the Brit’s bedroom, setting the heating pad down with the massager under it and handing George the pills and water.

“Thanks Dream,” George said gratefully before quickly popping the pill and gulping down water.

“I also brought you something else,” the blonde started, plugging the heating pad into the wall so it could begin warming up. “A bit of a surprise.”

“Ooh! What is it?” George asked eagerly.

Dream chuckled, still fighting to control his smirk. “Lay down and close your eyes.”

George complied, laying flat out with his head slightly propped up against a pillow, and closed his russet eyes. The younger smiled mischievously. He got him right where he wanted him.

Sitting next to the Brit he picked up the Massager and gently stroked it down George’s chest to his stomach. The man jumped with a gasp, his eyes flying open and curling up instinctually.

“Whahat was thahat?!?” He exclaimed.

Dream brandished the evil little tool and George’s face paled. “It’s one of those wire head massagers! I saw it while getting your heating pad and figured you’d like it~”

He lowered the massager back to George’s body, simultaneously grabbing one of the brunette’s wrists and pulling his arm away from his side.

“Wahahait Dreheheheam!!! Noho, dohohOHOHONT—!! NAHAHAHA!!” The smaller man shrieked and curled away the best he could from the wire massager that prodded his ribs. He weakly batted at it with his other arm, but it did little to deter the tickly item from traversing George’s entire left side like a xylophone.

“Geez, I figured it would tickle but I didn’t think you’d go this crazy,” Dream teased like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You must just be extra ticklish today, huh Georgie~?”

“NAHAHA DRHEHEHEAM!!! SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!! MOHOHOVE AHAHAWAY FROHOHOM THEHEHEHERE!!!” George wailed and thrashed, his eyes squeezed so tight he saw stars.

“Alright, what about here?” Dream prompted before moving the massager down to George’s bony hips, twirling and gently drilling the metal wires into his ticklish flesh.

George went ballistic.

He fell into a bout of silent laughter and arched forward before crashing back to the mattress in wild cackles. It was some of the most intense tickling he’d ever felt and he was gonna lose his mind if Dream continued any longer.

“MEHEHEHEHERCY!!! OHOHOHOHOH GOHOHOHOHOHOD PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAHD!! MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCYY!!!”

Dream stopped immediately at George’s shrill cry, dropping the tool to the bed and firmly rubbing away the persistent buzz of ghost tickles from George’s poor hip bones.

“You alright there?” Dream asked with a fond and mildly concerned smile.

“Thahahat…” George rasped through deep gasps and residual giggles “…wahas ahahwful.”

“You enjoyed it.” the blonde snickered and booped his friend’s red nose.

“If Ihi wahasn’t soho exhausted, Ihi’d be tihickling that thihing ahall over yohour belly right nohow.”

Dream shivered at the thought, considering running away before he was pulled down to the mattress and cuddled into by the tickled-out brunette.

Slowly his nerves subsided and he melted into George’s warmth, nearing sleep as his breathing slowed. Just before he drifted off however, he heard George say something that if he wasn’t so sleepy Dream would’ve been red as a tomato.

“When we wake up I’m going to make you cry with that thing.”

~~~~~

[ask-the-sock-ler]

Hello! I hope I'm not bothering you. I just wanted to introduce myself and possibly ask a few questions?

It had just came to my attention that there are Once-lers who aren't exactly human. And I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me about that? Or at least a few questions about you specifically.

~ Med-ler

Oh hello it’s a pleasure to meet you. Of course, I wouldn’t mind answering some questions ask away! I love teaching the public about sock anatomy and how my body works. Just no cutting me open or anything like that hehe. 

Art by @renzzbeanzz

[valentine1994]

Vad var det som fick mig att vakna imorse, ringa A och säga att jag inte ville gå till hans bästa väns födelsedagsfest? Trots att vi pratat om den här festen i mer än en månad nu. Var det vädret, min mens, planeternas läge? Eller är det bara så att jag verkligen inte vill gå till den här festen. Han sa ”Okej, gör inte det då. Vi pratar senare, du får ha en bra dag.” Och jag la på utan att säga ett ord och började gråta hysteriskt. Innerst inne hade jag hoppats att han skulle säga ”Nej kom, snälla!!” eller åtminstone fråga ”Varför då???” med förvånad (och kanske ledsen?) röst. Hashtagg toxisk flickvän. Men han bara lät irriterad och verkade ha bråttom, och det gjorde ont.

Samtidigt kände jag mig lättad - det är kanske dags att bli ärlig. Jag gillar inte att festa - eller inte längre. Jag gillade det i Frankrike, och jag skyller på språket. Jag kan inte ha kul på svenska. Svenskan är språket jag använder för att skriva uppsats och sitta hos psykologen och gråta - och som det nu visar sig för att gnälla på min blogg. Men inte för att ”mingla”. Jag har blivit lite trött på att träffa nya människor och berätta historien om varför jag lärde mig svenska och varför jag flyttade till Stockholm. Och att berätta att jag kommer från norra Frankrike - nej inte Normandie.

Sedan är det också den där fruktansvärda pressen när jag umgås med hans vänner, den där pressen som får mig att bli Stockholms tråkigaste tjej för jag är rädd för att de ska ogilla mig. Plötsligt har jag inga åsikter och står tyst och ler. En gång - det var på min födelsedag och alla hans närmsta vänner hade kommit hem till honom för att överraska mig - kände jag mig så stressad att jag drack tills jag fick sitta på golvet i badrummet i en halvtimme, och sedan kr*ktes jag i hissen...

[mythica0]

Pun-ishment

🎂: ROTTMNT

🧁:Leo

🍫: Donnie

Summary: Donnie is very annoyed about Leo’s puns.

A/N: I’m sure other people have done this before but I love the concept, and it was fun to come up with all those puns on the spot! (Also I love the dynamic between ler Don and Lee-o incase you couldn’t tell.)

Pun-ishment

‘Ugh. This guy is so annoying.’ Donnie thought to himself as he heard his twin rambling on.

He kept telling dumb jokes. Over and over again.

“I wish I was a mushroom! They’re pretty fungi’s!”

Donnie huffed an annoyed breath. “Shut. Up.”

“Why? You don’t like my mushroom jokes? That’s a shame, I have so many spore!”

Donnie just huffed again and made a dead-pan expression. Leo rolled over to him in the chair he was sitting in and spun to look at Don, a wide smirk on his face.

“D’ya know what the ocean said to the beach?”

“Don’t. Don’t do it.”

“Nothing! It just waved!”

“Groaaaaan.”

“Shell, shell, shell, what do we have here? Looks like DonTon here is a little salty”

Donnie turned towards Leo and glared at him. “That was shallow.”

Leo smiled even wider, “you made a pun! Looks like ya took the bait!”

Donnie facepalmed, “ughhh. That wasn’t intentional.”

“Are you shore?”

Leo burst out laughing at his own joke, as well as Don’s annoyed expression.

“Mahahahan- dohohont be soho shehellfihihish! Yohou’ll gehehet ihit ihin doho tihihide!”

Donnie placed his hands on the table with an audible thud, and turned to glare at Leo once more.

“Thats it. If you think you’re so funny, I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

The soft-shell walked over to his twin, still in the spinny chair, and rolled the chair over to his bed, before knocking Leo onto the bed and holding his arms up.

Leo had continued laughing, although now it had transformed into nervous giggles.

“Dohon- Dehee, wahahater yohou dohoing?”

“What? You like laughing, right? Ya think you’re funny?” Donnie spoke with a silly level of sinister, before catching Leo’s phrasing from before, and with a whisper spoke. “Oh you just made this so much worse for yourself.” And dug into Leo’s underarms.

Leo’s laughter once again burst from his chest, loud and boisterous. “Whahahhahait! Dohohontohohon! Nohoho! Cohome ohon!”

“Nope. You had this coming.”

“Whehehe cahan tahahalk abohout thihis! Wehe dohont hahave toho behe ahahanemonehes!”

“You do know that you’re not helping your situation, right?”

“Mahahaybe soho! Buhut ihim juhust gohoing wihihith thehe flohow!”

“Well, then, consider this your pun-ishment.”

Despite his punny protests, Leo actually sea-med to be enjoyed himself. It’s a little fishy, if you ask me.

His loud laughter and giggles rang through the lair, and although neither turtle would admit it, both were having fun.

Eventually though, Donnie got bored and decided to go for the krill.

He took a. Deep breath in, and blew a massive raspberry on Nardo’s stomach.

The sudden increase in tickly sensation caused Leo to scream for a moment, before his laughter grew much louder, kicking his feet in desperation.

“OHO MYHY SPIHIHIRITS! AHAHAH- DOHON!”

The whole room was flooded with the sound. Leo seemed to be happy as a clam, but it was getting intense, he needed to breathe.

Donnie let up, and stepped back, letting Leo let out leftover giggles for a moment.

“oho-ohohkay. Jeheheez. Thahat got prehetty ihintense.”

“Hey, you do the crime, you do the time.”

“Ihi guess soho. Maybe I deserved that pun-ishment.”

———THE END————————————————

[italeean]

Hello! Congrats on 350 followers! You're imcredibly talented, so good on you! May I please request an entry for the event?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs.

Role in the tk community: Ler (I've been blessed with not being ticklish.

Romantic/platonic: Platonic (unless it's Fyodor, Dazai, or Sigma😂)

Gender: Male.

Here's a little about me :)

Age: 23

Gender: male.

MBTI: INTJ.

Introvert/extrovert: introvert.

Hobbies: playing the cello and piano (habe played both since I was 10), playing chess, and reading (I got a whole mini library in my house XD).

Likes: Stargazing, strategizing, books, instrumental music, listening.

Dislikes: Rude people, those who don't listen, dogmatic people, loud/crowded places.

Random facts I thought I'd include: Like a certain Russian rat, I'm anaemic. I'm also a bit of an insomniac, though I take meds for both. I speak MUCH more formally in person, though I tend to use slang or more laxed language online as a tone indicator (the struggles of ASD😅).

Feel free to decline if you get to busy. Your well-being comes first! Have a fantastic day and I wish you luck on all future endveavours!

Hello fellow INTJ, thank you for participating!!! I had lots of fun writing your request, it was genuinely cute 🥹❤️ Btw you remind me a lot of Fyodor haha but I didn't match you with him... anyway, I hope you'll enjoy your match! Let me know if you do, my dear Fyodor-anon ❤️🍡 *some dango to enjoy while reading*

🔮 So for my event, your match is... SIGMA

🔮 Why did I choose him for you?

• Okay first, Sigma is an absolute sweetheart with 100% lee energy, which matches your ler vibes • I feel like he'd be amazed by how many talents you have! He's the kind of guy who'd sit down and watch you play an instant for hours • He'd always take you with him at the casino, but he wouldn't make you stay in the middle of the crowd... he'd probably let you watch the cameras and see how people are playing. He'd love to hear your sarcastic comment's about the lack of brain of some people • I feel like the perfect date for you two would be an indoor date or exploring hidden gems where you can be almost alone and admire the landlord • I feel like his laughter goes from extremely high-pitched to silent... you'd probably tell him "Now I can play another instrument" just to see him blush • He'd be ✨️hopeless✨️ in a chess match against you, which would lead to him pouting at you... and obviously it would mean cheer-up soft tickles!! (I feel like he'd prefer a softer touch in this context) • HOWEVER... he'd be a great match against you in card games because he can memorize the cards so he'd have a big advantage to match your superior strategizing abilities! • I'm sure you'd annihilate him at Risiko, and he'd destroy you at Memory hahaha (if I had a game night with you two, I'd have to get ready for a major humiliation /hj) • I can imagine you two having a window on your ceiling to fall asleep while stargazing, although sometimes you'd also go out • I'm positive that Sigma would close the casino for one night just to do stargazing with you from such a high and secluded spot! • I feel like you'd enjoy reading together sometimes, and then you'd comment on the books you read at night... Sigma would LOVE your more formal speech style • Thanks to his amazing memory, Sigma would remember to make sure you follow a diet full of iron and take iron integrators... he'd do his best to take perfect care of you

🔮 Tickle scenario

Note: "мой ангел" means "my angel"

Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol probably weren't the best guys around... to be honest, they weren't even close to being good, but they actually did the best thing when they introduced you to Sigma.

He was an angel to you, even if he couldn't see it. How he both listened and opened up to you, watched you play instruments as if you were a music deity, how he showed appreciation towards you and the quality time you spent together... you two were a match made in heaven. Different enough to complete each other and similar enough to be compatible.

You were thinking all of this as you watched your little angel asleep on the couch, breathing deeply but without making a sound. He looked like he was having a peaceful dream.

You had asked him if he could listen to a cello piece you were practicing on. It was an extremely relaxing piece, some critics even said it was probably a lullaby written by the composer for his children, but you didn't really think it would work on your boyfriend.

However, you had to interrupt that blissful moment for Sigma's sake. It was almost dinner time and sleeping at that time was surely going to mess up his sleeping schedule. You chuckled, glancing at that sleeping angelic face once more before tracing his back lightly to wake him up softly.

A smile formed on the dual-haired guy's face and it got wider and wider until it turned into a sleepy, groggy giggle. "Good morning, мой ангел~" you smirked while he looked up at you, still giggling as the last traces of sleep left his eyes.

"I wanna sleep... just keep playing your cello..." he tried pointlessly to swat your hands away. "No can do," You sing-songed "It's dinner time, and you need to get up if you want to sleep tonight." Your words made him groan, but he knew you were right.

"Go awayyy" He whined, and then he made the worst mistake. "Did you... just throw a pillow at my face?" You asked, showing playful indignation, and decided to make him regret that choice.

"5... 4... 3..." You started counting, and Sigma knew what was coming. You ignored his pleads and neutralized every attempt he made to get away, "2... 1..."

"Gyahahahahaha Ihihi'm sohohorryehe pleheheahase nohohohot thihihis!!!" He kicked with his legs and punched the couch, as if doing that would give him any relief or protection from the tickling he was receiving on his back, sides, ribs and underarms. "I'm afraid I have to decline your request, dear... you had your chance to listen to me, and now you have to face the punishment for not doing so." You solemnly scolded him. You didn't know why but that kind of tone always flustered him.

"YohOHOu're meHEahAHan..!" He complained while you drew little circles in the hollow of his underarms. "Says the one who threw a pillow at my face..." You quickly retorted, and then you decided to go for the kill without any kind of warning.

"NAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOT THEHE NEHEHEHEHEHEHECK!!! I'M SOHOHOHORRY IHIHI'M SAHAHAHAHARRYEHEHE IHIHI'LL GEHEHET UHUHUHUHUP!!!" He immediately caved in. It was adorable for you how he could've handle even two fingers tracing his neck.

"I didn't even get to use my whole hands there... but I got what I wanted and I'm getting quite hungry, so I'll let you off the hook this time." You decided to be merciful and helped him sit up, giving a couple of minutes to recover.

You noticed how late it was, and noticing that Sigma was fully recovered, you got up and walked towards the door of the living room. "Come on, let's go to din-" You tried to say before getting interrupted by two hands squeezing your sides.

"Hahaha I got you!" Sigma exclaimed proudly, eager to finally get his revenge on you... only to find out, to his dismay, that you weren't even twitching.

"Nice try, мой ангел~"

"H-how can this- No! Nononono wait wait wahAHAHAHAHAIT..!"

[plague-doctor-medler]

Plague Doctor Med-ler Art

I have another commission piece to share with everyone! This is one of plague doctor Med-ler (sans plague mask) from thebunnythebear, who did an amazing job!

[ask-doctor-med-ler]

Hello. I believe we met not long ago.

A certain person has been requesting more.. tactile methods of communication with me - hugs, hand-holding and other gestures that tend to bring people a sense of 'comfort'.

The problem - this 'body' of mine is not made of any matter that mortals could encounter under normal circumstances. Prolonged contact with me kills them.

Perhaps you might have a potential solution? I would appreciate it.

-@ask-chronicler

Chronicler,

First off I'm going to admit that even though your situation is unique, the advice I'm giving is likely something you've already considered yourself.

That said, first and foremost, communication is your biggest friend. You need to make it clear to your friend that you're not willing to risk their safety for the physical comforting it may temporarily grant to them. If they really care for you the way I suspect that they do, you will be able to come to some kind of mutual understanding.

That said, I'm sure you are aware that you're not the only onceler with superhuman abilities. If you yourself cannot find a way to safely give them a tactile alternative, you might be able to find someone else who may be able to help you find something that could do the trick.

A pet is one option, a puppet that you can control from a safer distance is another alternative. I'm sure you aren't considering a way to "normalize" yourself, but there are countless other alternatives to consider.

I don't know the particulars on how your body negatively affects normal humans, but if it's anything similar to radiation, perhaps a hazmat suit or radiation lead shield?

Let me know if there's any other way I can help! I hope I was at least a little helpful.

~ Med-ler

[rosiesramblings]

A Real Smile

WC: 2.2k

Fandom: Criminal Minds, ler!Spencer, lee!Reader

TW: Talk of depression and anxiety, general mental health problems

A/N: Okay I just want to say I tried to make it OBVIOUS in this fic that tickling does NOT fix or cure mental illness. Like, not even close. However, as someone who has struggled with this stuff for at least 8 years, having a solid support system DOES help. That's really what I wanted to portray in this fic. I love you all! And I hope you enjoy.

“What are you doing?” Reid’s voice jolted me out of my focus, and I forced my face to relax from the aggressively fake smile I had been wearing.

“Um. Paperwork?” I purposely misinterpreted the question, twisting nervously in my spinny office chair.

“I meant with your face,” Spencer said. He strode across the bullpen and hopped up onto my desk, fixing me with a stare that I knew from past experience meant that he wasn’t going to drop this until I told him.

I sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. To my surprise, there was nobody else in the bullpen. Hotch’s light was still on in his office, but other than that it was completely deserted. I glanced at the clock, and oh my god it was almost half past nine. Shit. I really hadn’t meant to stay this late. At least nobody else was around to notice my weird coping mechanisms.

I looked up at Reid. “You can’t laugh,” I said.

“Why would I laugh?” he asked genuinely.

“Because it’s… silly at best, embarrassing at worst,” I explained.

“Ok. No laughing. Now what was that face? It looked like you were in pain.”

“So, I read online that the action of smiling, even if it’s a fake smile, triggers the release of happy brain chemicals. If I’m being honest, depression has been kicking my ass lately, and when it gets like this I fake smile when I’m doing paperwork for especially hard cases to try and trick my brain into thinking I’m happy,” I said, staring resolutely just past Reid’s shoulder, not making eye contact.

He didn’t say anything. I panicked.

“I know it’s dumb and that the fake smiling thing was geared more towards normal people who are having a bad day and probably doesn’t actually do much to help people with major depression and generalized anxiety disorder but I figure it’s better than nothing or moping alone at my desk all day and -”

Reid puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping my ramble in its tracks. “Woah, Y/N, it’s ok. I don’t think it’s weird at all. I just… why didn’t you say anything?”

“Say anything about my fake smiling? Probably because I don’t think -”

“No, I mean, why didn’t you tell anybody on the team that you’re struggling?” Reid asked, voice impossibly gentle. His hand is still on my shoulder, and it’s kind of all I can concentrate on. It’s been so long since somebody just - touched me? Which sounds so stupid and pathetic and anyway, he asked me a question.

“Um. Well I didn’t tell Hotch or Rossi because I don’t want them to think that I can’t do my job. And I didn’t tell the rest of you because I’m just used to dealing with this on my own, I guess? It honestly didn’t even occur to me to say something.”

I risk a glance at Spencer’s face and he looks devastated. Jesus. It’s like I told him his dog died or something. I scramble, trying to figure out the best thing to say, not having the faintest idea how to fix it.

“It’s really not that big a deal, Reid, I promise. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist soon, I just have to buckle down and get through these next few weeks until she can adjust my meds,” I say. “In the meantime, I just… try and find little ways to make it better. Hence the fake smiling.”

Reid still looks sad. He hops down from my desk and stands next to my chair. “According to the current research, an embrace would offer more of an increase in endorphin production in the brain than smiling, fake or not,” he says, the fingers on his left hand rubbing at his sweater sleeve.

Unbidden, tears sprung to my eyes. I blinked hard and tried for a teasing tone to cover it. “Dr. Reid, are you asking if I want a hug?”

My voice cracked. Goddammit.

He just raised his eyebrows and opened his arms.

I heaved a breath out, hard. “Ok, ok, just… give me a minute. Cause if you hug me right this second I will cry,” I said, tugging my hands through my hair and staring up at the ceiling, trying to get a handle on my emotions.

Spencer just nodded solemnly. “That would be counterproductive.”

I gave a half-laugh. Then I stood up, shaking out my arms, before looking at him and squinting. “Wait, are you sure? I know handshakes aren’t your thing so isn’t a hug worse-ah!”

Without preamble, Reid grabbed my hand and yanked me toward him, wrapping his arms around me.

Oh. Oh.

His sweater was soft and warm, and my head fit perfectly underneath his chin. One of his arms ran up and down my spine softly, and the other one held me tightly to him. I let out a shuddery breath as I relaxed into his embrace.

This was the safest I’d felt in a while.

“You might be onto something with the endorphins thing,” I mumbled into his chest.

Spencer’s laugh rumbled through his ribcage. The best feeling. “I have an IQ of 187. I’m usually ‘onto something’.”

He rocked me gently back and forth, and I let my eyes flutter closed. 

Only to stiffen and stifle a laugh when Reid switched from rubbing my back to running his fingers across my shoulder blades. I pressed my lips into a line, trying to remain as natural as possible. I didn’t want the hug to end, and I really didn’t want Spencer to find out how much that tickled.

Reid’s voice was suspiciously neutral when he next spoke. “You know, it’s not just hugs that release endorphins,” he said. 

I hummed, hoping that he was planning on going on a tangent that would distract him from asking about the sudden tension in my body.

“Things like high fives, pats on the back, cuddling, all these activities cause so-called “happy brain chemicals” to flood your nervous system.”

“Huh,” I said, barely listening as his touch on my shoulder blades seemed to lighten and become even more unbearable. Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t - 

“Actually, there is one more activity that helps the brain produce endorphins,” Spencer continued.

“It’s been observed in other species, including chimpanzees, rats, and bonobos, and can induce a fight-or-flight response, which actually reduces stress levels.”

“Oh yeheah?” Shit. Hopefully the giggle was muffled by his sweater.

“Mhm. So I guess we should probably see if it helps you, since the benefits are so clearly so immense,” he said, his fingers still dancing across my shoulders.

“Okay,” I said, proud that I kept the laughter out of my voice.

“So tell me, Y/N… are you ticklish?” Fuck.

“WhahahaAHAHAT?” I burst into laughter when he suddenly lowered his hands and dug deep into my sides.

Spencer just laughed with me. “Unfortunately, knismesis, what I was doing to your shoulder blades earlier, hasn’t been studied in this context. However, gargalesis, this squeezing that I’m doing,” he demonstrated enthusiastically, making me shriek. “That has been proven to give those mental health benefits.”

“Reheheheheid,” I giggled.

“Yes? What seems to be the problem, Y/N?” he asked pleasantly.

“Yohohou’re - yohohohou’re - gohohohd, please go somewhere ehehehehelse,” I said, my face burning as I realized I didn’t really want him to stop.

“Your wish is my command,” he teased, picking me up and sitting me on the edge of my desk, where he had been moments earlier. He backed up, put a few inches of space between us, and I frowned, thinking he was done. Instead, he reached between us and vibrated his hand over the skin of my belly.

“Ahahahahahaha! Wahahahait, not thehehehehere,” I begged. My hands tried to grab his, but he was too fast and I was too uncoordinated.

“Actually, you didn’t specify. All you said was, and I quote, ‘Please go somewhere else’,” Spencer explained.

Nononononohohohohoho,” I laughed, squirming and knocking my cup full of pens to the floor.

“I have an eidectic memory, Y/N. If you had asked me not to get your tummy, I would remembered,” Spencer teased.

“Dohohn’t cahahahall it thahahat,” I snickered, pressing my face into his shoulder in embarrassment.

“What? Big, bad, Special Agent Y/N L/N is flustered by the word ‘tummy’?” Reid asked, moving his other hand up to squeeze at my ribs.

“Spencer! We’re ahahat wohohork! Don’t - don’t teASE,” I yelped.

“Hotch is the only other one still here. Nobody’s gonna see you,” Spencer said gently. “Plus, I’m pretty sure that Hotch would agree with me that you haven’t laughed nearly enough this week.”

“Ohohoho my gohohod,” I giggled, giving up on trying to stop him and fisting my hands in the back of his sweater, desperate to hold on to something.

“Ah, thank you! Easy access to your underarms,” Reid smiled, worming his fingers there and lighting my nerves on fire. 

I tensed my shoulders as I laughed, knowing that putting my arms down would undoubtedly make it a thousand times worse.

“Tell you what,” Reid said diplomatically. “Since you’ve been such a good sport about this, and because I am a merciful and benevolent god,” I snorted at him. “If you tell me your worst spot, I’ll only tickle you there for a little bit and then we’ll be done.”

My voice pitched up an octave. “Whahahahaat?”

“Your choice, Y/N. We can stop soon, or I can keep going until you’re literally just a puddle of giggles on the floor.”

Oh, this was so not fair.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Reid said, digging into the tops of my ribs and making me cackle.

“Ugh - fihihihine, fihihihine! It’s my hiIHIHIHIHIPS REHEHEHEID NO!” I screamed crazily, shocked that no night security guards had come running.

“Good choice, Y/N. Would it help if I counted down?” Deftly pressing his thumbs deep into my hip bones, he took me apart as casually as if we were having lunch together.

“IHIHIHIT WOULD NOHOHOT,” I laughed.

“Hm. I’m going to anyway. You can do it, just ten more seconds…”

“REEHEHEHEID.”

“Nine…”

“YOU SUHUHUCK.”

“Eight… seven… six… five…”

“SPENCER PLEHEHEHASE,” I gasped, absolutely losing my mind.

“You’re doing so well! Four… three… “

“THIHIHIHIS IS A WAHAHAR CRIHIHIME.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby. Two�� aaaaaaand one!”

With that, he stopped kneading into my hips and rubbed a firm hand up and down my back. I just stayed where I was, arms wrapped around him, face hidden in his sweater, laughing and waiting for the ghost-tickles to go away.

“Ohohoho my god… my sihihides,” I giggled, feeling the wonderful ache in my lungs of having had a good laugh.

“Feeling any better?” Spencer asked cheekily.

“Mahahaybe a little,” I mumbled. I considered my next words. “Definitely not cured, but the world does seem a little less… horrible.”

“Good,” Spencer said simply. 

We sat in silence for a minute, enjoying each other’s company.

“Listen,” Spencer said, pulling back and looking at my face. “You absolutely don’t have to tell anybody else. I certainly won’t. This is your business, and if you want to keep it that way that’s fine. But, telling the team might help. A lot of us struggle with mental health stuff sometimes. You might be surprised by the support.”

I hummed, considering.

“I am, however, absolutely going to tell them that you’re ticklish,” Spencer grinned. “I’m sure they’ll take advantage of the information. Nobody has to know that it helps your depression.”

I whined, mostly just putting on a show, “Seriously?”

“Definitely. These next few weeks before your psych appointment are going to fly by,” Reid said, tweaking my sides and making me squeak.

The (real, tickle-induced) smile slowly faded from my face and I looked at him seriously. “You’re a good friend, Dr. Reid.”

“So are you, Agent L/N.”

I pushed myself off my desk. “Okay. We have both been here for entirely too long. Want to come back to my apartment for a movie or something?”

“Sure! I’ve been on a major Wes Anderson kick lately,” Spencer said, walking over to grab his messenger bag.

Just then, both of our phones buzzed. “Oh, please tell me we don’t have a case,” I begged, tossing my stuff into my bag as Reid looked at his screen.

He grinned. “Nope, no case. Although, you might find a case preferable to this.” He flipped his phone towards me and played the video that was just sent to the BAU group chat. 

The unmistakable sound of my laughter filled the room and my face burned as I watched Spencer-from-five-minutes-ago wreck me in third person on the the screen. The angle of the shot made it pretty obvious that it was filmed from the doorway of Hotch’s office.

“Hotch!” I squealed, covering my face with my hands.

“Well, that’s one thing checked off my to-do list,” Spencer laughed.

“Oh my god… I’m turning off my phone,” I said, even as embarrassing gifs from Emily and Morgan and a bunch of rainbow hearts from Garcia flooded my notifications.

“C’mon,” Spencer said, throwing his arm around me. “I’m sure you’ll live this down… in a few years.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he walked us toward the elevator. This time, the smile stuck onto my face was a real one.

[ask-sora-ler-and-sky-ler]

[Med-ler had seen the strange boy before. The one who called himself Sora-ler. He had come to the clinic once or twice needing basic supplies; antibiotics, supplements, first aid kits. For being so young he was very accident prone.]

[She hadn't seen him since the beginning of the outbreak. She didn't like to assume the worst, but it was hard not to given the circumstances. So when she saw him again for the first time crossing through the mostly uninhabited town of Thneedville, she ducked out of her safe place to try to catch his attention.]

"Sora-ler!" [She called out to him, though it was more of a loud whisper. She didn't want to speak any louder than that.]

The mouse ears on top of the teens head twitched and he turned towards the familiar voice.

The boy looked somewhat different from the last time she saw him. His hair was longer, sticking up in multiple directions. He seemed thinner, paler. Bags clung to his eyes and his eyes themselves seemed void of life.

He looked like her, key slung over his shoulder.

“Doctor?” He whispered back in response, quietly walking over to her.

“Y-you. What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

[ask-nightmare-ler]

Hey! Nice to meet you. I'm relatively new to the area, so forgive me if I'm asking something repetitive.

You're known as nightmare-ler? Is that because you control nightmares, or is it just due to your appearance?

(Forgive me if I ask anything inappropriate)

~ Dr. Med-ler

Actually little one, none of them. My creator was just an edgy teenager who liked fnaf 4 too much and thought Nightmare was a cool name. Ok yeah maybe my appearance might be connected. But I do not control nightmares.

[xexyromero]

🏓 anon raquetinhaKKKKKKKK

xexy que amorKKKK foi meio por acaso eu ter visto sua resposta de cara pq lembrei de um hc que vc escreveu e q eu ainda não tinha lido, ai vim futricar e vi tua respostaKKKKKK (#conectados🍠)

Mas eh isso mesmo :::::: eu fico mais relaxado de poder pensar assim e não me sentir tanto um molequeinho de 13 anos que ta lendo fanfic do harry styles escondido

(PS novamente: to estudando pra passar em med na Unicamp e ler as coisas que vc escreve me deixa todo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 (de um jeito bom)!!!!! Espairece a cabeça sabe? Tira o foco um pouco dessa obrigação toda de ui faculdade e tal (e me faz parar de pensar que eu vou ter que ficar + 7 anos estudando)

falô, sis 🏓

meu amor nosso amor estava escrito nas estrelas.... tava sim....

fique relaxado meu amor estamos todos juntos nessa grande maluquice de tesão por esses mais que queridos argentinos e uruguaios <3

e fico feliz de poder aliviar ao menos q um pouquinho essa sensação ruim de vestibular é tenebroso