#as you can tell by tags

[deathfavor]

@yeonban​​​​​​ said: 10. for soma to request seiroku’s favorite meal from the chefs and bring it to him in an attempt at helping the doctor feel better after having noticed him looking a tad... off, in some sense of the word, earlier in the day.

comfort starters

   The aura that surrounds Seiroku is different than it usually is, and if the reactions he was getting were anything to go by, others were picking up on it. Not that it effected his work, Seiroku wouldn’t allow for that. His work was as flawless and efficient as it always was, and he didn’t slack off either. It was just that something in the air around him gave a distinct feeling to those witnessing it of a ship lost at sea in a vicious storm. It didn’t help when he could feel the worrying gazes on his back from some of the medical staff, or when some of the patients seemed especially intent to thank him for his help with bright eyes. Or delirious ones. Those ones were worse, because even in the haze of the pain they were trying to make sure he knew of their gratefulness.

  Part of him wanted to snap at them. Part of him wanted to destroy all of this, this warmth that tasted sweet like sugar on his tongue. The emotion in his chest feels like spikes under his skin, angry and sharp. Seiroku didn’t. Instead, he’d only offered a distant smile and gentle assurance he was just doing his job, and to let him know if they needed anything.

  He needs to remove this warmth like removing a tumor, to split himself open and rip it out and throw away the malformed mess. Self surgery - he could probably do it. How many bushi had he slaughtered? Seiroku moves through the busy streets, his gaze barely flicking over the bushi as he made his way back to his room. He’d long lost count of the number. He slaughtered everyone, indiscriminately so long as they were Bushi. He hated them. He hated them. Hated them like leeches. That’s right. He needed to crush them out.

  This wasn’t his door though, this was no creation of those black crystals. (He wasn’t even enchanted by them like some of the other members.) This was all real.

  Seiroku quickens his pace, paying little heed to his surroundings till he’s safe within his own room. At least his work was over and he wouldn’t need to face anyone if he didn’t want to. Everyone had off days, most would brush it off simply as that. He hoped. How would he know? He’d never had anyone care. 

  His three golden swords clatter to the ground as he sets them aside and he moves to stand by the window, head resting against the wooden frame as he watched colors bleed from the sky as the sun lowered. He could imagine what most were doing. Drinking, eating, laughing. Everything he’d wanted. Everything he’d been confident he’d never get. Sometimes he could coax members to drink or eat with him, but it wasn’t the same. It was always him reaching out, trying to catch the sunlight in jars. Of course, you can’t seal sunlight in jars. Of course no one in the eight would reach out to him like that outside of having something they needed him to do.  

  He presses his tongue against the top of his mouth, eyes closed as he swallows away the too-sweet warmth like a fire eater extinguishing the flames. He doesn’t need warmth. He needs smoke and ash and emptiness, or a heat of anger so intense that the nerves confuse it for cold. Except anger is a blinding force and hardly good for strategy. So smoke and ash it is.

  Seiroku snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the door slide open, knowing there’s really only one person who’d come find him. (At least without the frantic rhythm of running feet and his name already being called out because there’s some medical emergency happening). He also knows Soma will instantly notice something is amiss if he hasn’t already - but to what extent he’ll point it out is unknown.

   His stomach growls at the smell of food and his eyes shift to the tray in Soma’s hands.  “  You remembered.  “ His eyes widen in genuine disbelief. He’d only mentioned it in passing once, he hadn’t expected Soma to actually remember something so insignificant as his favorite meal. And somehow that hurts. Even as Seiroku’s expression softens, and there’s a faint glimpse of something melancholic lurking in his gaze before he shoves it down beneath the waves. 

   Why do you have to make this so hard? Please...Please stop...

   Please don’t stop.

   “  Thank you.  “  Seiroku pushes a smile to his lips as he moves away from the window and the dark outside to sit at the table. His mouth waters yet he only stares for a moment at the food.  “  ...I really mean that. I’m not just saying it. “ His head lifts to look at the captain. He didn’t need to do any of this. His gaze lingers before he turns his head back to take a bit of the food before it got cold. Warm..

[thatrandomblogsays]

Annabeth: I, a child, had to earn Thalia’s love, that’s how the world works! I have to earn my moms love. Love is transactional, you gotta be worthy of it first silly :)

Percy, listening to this on the train

[faggotisaacfloofs]

the person who helped today when I fell out of my wheelchair actually did a really great job, so I want to share in case other people wonder what to do. [Note: this is not universal, this is merely a suggestion from one person, every wheelchair user's needs are different! I am a person who uses a manual chair usually pushed by someone else who is also disabled.]

Scenario: you see someone in a wheelchair fall out of their chair, and you have the ability to help.

1. Approach and ask "are you okay?"*

2. Next question if they say no, are vague, or open to continuing conversation** is, "is there anything I can do to help?" Or "what can I do?"

If they say no to help, then that's the end, just leave and go do whatever you were doing!

If they ask for help or say they are mildly injured, ask "what would you like me to do?" And wait for an answer before doing anything! If they seem dazed or confused, they might have hit their head or had another medical event*, or they might just be like that due to regular disability. Be patient.

Do not touch the person unless they say to, or they are like, unconcious in the middle of the road, ya know?? Wheelchair users usually have conditions that mean being handled improperly can severely injure us, you could cause much more damage than the fall.

Some things they might need you to do:

Bring their wheelchair closer (mine went about 5 feet away after it dumped me)

engage the brakes of the wheelchair

hold wheelchair steady if it's an unsteady surface (mud, hill, ramp, wet, etc)

offer an arm for them to hold onto to get up (them grabbing you, not you grabbing them) or move another solid item closer for them to use (i.e. a chair) [only do this if you physically have the ability to!]

If the terrain is rough (i.e. a parking lot), they *might* ask you to push their chair to a more stable area once they are back in their chair

nothing

Something else

Do what they ask, NOT what you think would be helpful. If for some reason you have to do something (i.e. you can't stop oncoming traffic and need to get them out) ASAP, tell them what you plan to do

Keep in mind they might also be D/deaf, have a communication disability, be stunned after the fall, have a head injury, not trust other people, etc. Be patient and treat them as a person with autonomy and agency! They might need to just sit on the ground for a few minutes to recover before trying to get back in their chair. They might want everyone to leave them alone. They might ask you to call someone specific. Their chair might have broken and that can be extremely distressing. All of this is like if your legs spontaneously stop working when you're out and about!

A lot of wheelchair users (NOT ALL) have ways to get into their chair on their own once the chair is close enough and brakes engaged (but it's hard from the ground!). Here's what brakes look like on a lot of manual wheelchairs, in case they ask you to lock the brakes. They're levers on each side and pushing the lever pushes a bar against the wheel to hold it still.

ID: A manual wheelchair with the brake levels circled in red and labeled "user brake levers"

*There is also the possibility of course that a person fell out of their chair due to a seizure or other medical event, so that is why it is important to ask if they are okay. If you saw them hit their head, tell them so. If they had a medical event, follow protocol for that, I'm not gonna get into it here (thought I could).

**sometimes a person will be clear after the first question i.e. "I'm all good thanks" clearly means they do not need you to ask another question, you can just leave them alone. Keep walking and don't stare. A lot of the time people will be a bit banged up but be totally fine and able to manage on their own.

TLDR: Ask the wheelchair user if they're okay, then what they need, and then do exactly that, including leaving them alone. Thanks!

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[vulpinesaint]

pspspspsps poetry mutuals come here... new quiz... making you the patron saint of something...

[hellspawnmotel]

intimacy between an evil spiteful building-sized supercomputer and the lone scientist left behind after everyone else ditched and forgot about her (in which computer wants to kill scientist really bad but her programming wont let her so she just attempts to make her as miserable as possible instead, which also doesn't work because scientist is a freak)

[poorlemons]

jon, martin, and basira discovering fall damage was not on my list of things to expect

[hollis-art]

my baby, my baby

[kangals]

friendly advice from vetmed: I know that when your animal has an infection that is generating a lot of discharge, you want to describe that to the veterinarian, because it’s a concerning sign. that is true. I also know that the most common word for this type of discharge is “pus,” so it’s logical that that’s the word that you’ll use when describing what’s going on. and in English, we often add a “-y” when we’re using a word as a descriptor.

but. the word. the word you are looking for. is purulent.

please stop sending in messages telling the doctor that your dog has a “pussy wound.”

[1alchemistart]

some dunmeshis bc i love them

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[brungeons-and-bragons]

Bitches will be like “my ship just got confirmed” and then show you a single low-res frame of ambiguous origin where the characters walk out of a room together. It’s me. I am bitches.

[ariescults]

#MeganMonday: I Think I love Her Freestyle

[cavalierclavier]

When I broke the cycle, I made sure that the tear was rough. You carry a part of what should be her, and she carries a part of what should be you.

[sirenetica]

Thought I'd take a crack at the Life Series In Your Style board (courtesy of @/xmaruu11)

Tell me which ones your favorite :)

[panksage]

Act 1 durgestarion romance is so funny to me, they’re so profoundly miserable and stupid, I love them