#Disposable Exam Glove

[321spongebolt]

Last night, while I was re-visiting the "Loud House" episode, "Room With a Feud", I noticed during Lisa's explanation to Lincoln (while she's in her scientist outfit of course), her open hand has no line for the palm of her glove. So it took me a while to draw it right. It also took me a while to find a good picture of Lisa to take a screenshot of with my computer. Once again, I used one of my hand outlines based on the show's.

[lovinglovin]

The Ultimate Guide To Buying Disposable Vinyl Exam Gloves Online 

In today’s rapidly developing world, the suitability of online shopping has transformed the way we obtain goods, containing vital medical supplies such as one-use vinyl examination gloves. With the growing demand for personal protective equipment (PPE), particularly in the wake of global health crises, finding the right gloves online can be both an essential and a challenge.  In this blog, we…

[ladytauria]

👀👀 meeting in the ER with damitim pls?

thank you!!

this is more urgent care than ER---actually, i'm picturing this happening at Leslie's clinic?---but. still on theme xD it's also heavily inspired by this post, bc... it's just so damian, you know?

“So… you said a cat did this?”

“Ah… yes.” Damian is distracted—not by the distant tug of a needle, in and out of his skin, but rather by the man doing the stitching.

He would not call him the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, but the man is certainly… attractive, with his sharp cheekbones and aquiline nose. Most striking is the pale, ice blue of his eyes; made even more so by the dark circles under his eyes.

Damian can relate.

“It was a kitten, actually,” he admits, somewhat reluctantly. 

That gets those eyes on him, the needle stilling. The nurse’s brows raise. “A kitten?”

“She was very fierce.” Normally he keeps gloves in his car for such an occasion, but he had taken them out to wash them, and— Well. Of course he ended up finding the kitten before he got them back into his car.

"I see," the nurse says, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I wonder if I'll be stitching up the next poor person to find her, too."

Damian sniffs. "Hardly," he says. "She's in my car." His emergency kennel, luckily, had still been there. He hated to leave the poor creature out there—on the way over, he had contemplated calling Richard or Todd to pick her up for him. However, neither of them was likely to listen to his instructions to leave her alone. Richard because he would believe he could befriend her, and Todd because he would underestimate the severity.

Pity Cassandra was out of town.

Pity Jon lived two hours away.

“Huh.” The nurse goes back to stitching. “You didn’t let go?” He sounds vaguely impressed. Damian cannot help the way he puffs up with pride.

“Of course not,” he says. “I would hardly leave the poor thing out there to suffer. Fierce or not, Gotham’s streets are no place for a kitten.”

The curve of the man’s mouth turns—soft, almost. It is reminiscent of a look he often sees from Richard, though it incites a different feeling in him entirely. He feels… warm. His fingertips tingle.

“Of course not,” the man echoes, softly. “Do you do that a lot? Rescue kittens, I mean.”

“At nearly one in the morning? No, not typically,” Damian says. “However, I volunteer at an animal shelter, and I am enrolled in the veterinary program at Gotham University. I find myself rescuing many animals.” He also had, vaguely, considered the notion of stitching himself up. It was only the knowledge of Richard and Pennyworth’s disappointed faces that had sent him to the clinic, instead.

“Huh,” the man says, thoughtfully. “So what happens to the kitten now?”

“She is young enough it should be fairly easy to socialize her,” Damian says. “Once she is used to people, I suppose I will look into finding her a home.” He would keep her himself, but— He has reached his limit on the amount of animals he can realistically take care of. His younger self would scoff at this, but part of adulthood was learning his limits. A dog, two cats, a snake, and several fostered kittens were certainly his.

The nurse hums, snipping the thread. He lingers at Damian’s side. “You know… I always wanted a cat. Do you… think I could call you, sometime? Maybe arrange a visit?”

Damian’s pulse quickens. “I—yes. I would be, ah. Amenable to that.”

The nurse smiles. The brightness of it steals the breath from Damian’s lungs. “Cool,” he says. “Hold on just a second.”

The nurse disposes of the needle and washes his hands before snagging one of the brochures from the countertop, by the sink. He withdraws a pen from his pocket and writes, quickly.

When he passes it to Damian, he winks. “You should be good to go now, Mr. Wayne.”

“Thank you,” Damian says, sliding off the exam table. As he walks out the door, he glances down at the paper. On it is a phone number, which Damian memorizes automatically, signed—

Tim Drake. Call me :)

Next to words is a doodle of a cat, wearing what is likely a nurse’s cap.

Damian is impossibly, terribly charmed.

[ send me an au if u like~ ]

[seradyn]

I Won’t Let Go

Ruben x Reader fluff

Helping Ruben cope with a seizure, giving him lots of cuddles and comfort afterwards.

For my dear @broteinshake69 , based on this post.

Word Count: 3611

^ I am incapable of writing short one-shots :)

TW: None

I am not a neuroscientist, nor have I ever had a seizure, so I hope you can excuse the pseudoscience and inaccurate depiction x)

Les go

———————————————————————

A soft, familiar squelch filled his ears as the scalpel cut cleanly through the brain. Each incision was made with practiced precision, every wave of the small knife deliberate. He’d done this so many times before, it was second nature by now. Dissect, record, kill, dissect, record, he’d done it since he’d freed himself from beneath his parent’s thumbs. Since he got out of the basement. Ironic, now that he’d set up his main lab there.

Today was no different, though Ruben had chosen to focus on one particular part of the brain; the cerebellum. It sat lower on the organ, closer to the brainstem, meaning he often had to kill his subjects to get to it. No matter, the data was more than worth it. And it was there waiting for him, a wellspring of neurotransmitters and chemical reactions. The mind’s response to his live dissections etched into the stone walls of chemistry.

With one final, satisfying cut, the gelatinous glob fell from the rest of the organ, the gentle weight falling into a gloved hand. Ruben placed it onto its own tray, shoving the rest of the brain into a corner. He’d have to discard it before it began to rot, but that could wait. His scarred fingers twitched with the anticipation of new data. His creation, STEM, was nearly ready for its first prototype, he was so close.

Standing, he went to retrieve the rest of the tools he’d need, listing them off as he removed his gloves; syringes, sharper scalpels, a microscope. Things he preferred not cluttering his desk while he worked on getting the parts he needed. Sometimes he could work on the surgical tables marking the center of his ‘exam rooms’, but alas, he still needed to dispose of the body, too. Something that only served to waste his time, which could be spent doing research.

He grunted with the weight of some of the equipment, his hands sending dull shocks of pain up his arms. Ruben had years to cope with the weakness of his body after the fire, but it was moments like these that made him grit his teeth in silent rage. That day had rendered his existence one of constant pain and strife, and he was loath to be reminded of such.

Though that rage quickly simmered down, burning with a low heat in his chest. That was why he was doing this research, after all. His body, his life…his sister. What he lost, he would get back.

One subject, one dissection, one brain at a time.

Ruben let out a tense sigh, his robe catching the stale air as he spun around, awkwardly walking back to his desk with the bulky microscope cradled in his hands. He only wished it wasn’t taking so long. His project was years in the making, and he knew it would take years more for it to come to fruition. Truthfully, he was frustrated by it all. He was tired of living this joke.

The microscope hit his desk with a dull thud, the scars on his hands and fingers aching from the excursion. He shook them out, flexing his fingers to tame the soreness in his joints. The day was still young, and he was determined to make the most of it.

Ruben picked up his scalpel, positioning the cerebellum so his cuts would be clean along its length. To get the proper images, he’d need slices as thin as hairs, which meant there was little room for error. Too thick and he wouldn’t be able to see what he was looking for, too thin and there wouldn’t be enough to work with. He would be injecting them with dye, which in turn would react with the various chemicals throughout the soft tissue, changing the dye’s color. Crude methods, certainly, but they delivered the desired results. The way the brain coped with such high levels of stress, fear, and pain - he would have that as his prize.

Or, at least that was the plan. Plans which came to a grinding halt when Ruben found himself unable to move his arm or hand.

Puzzled, he furrowed his brow, glancing at the offending limb. It was frozen in midair, scalpel raised, as if stuck in time. He tried to force it into motion, but it didn’t budge, the muscles stiffened without his consent. Frustrated, he turned his attention back to the brain on his desk, hoping his muscles would relax after a moment. It wasn’t unusual for his body to just give out on him, much to his annoyance, but with any luck, it would pass after a few moments.

Ruben was caught off guard though, when his vision began to swim. He couldn’t focus on any one thing, all of it smearing into a watery mess of indistinguishable colors. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his muddy eyes, but there was no relief.

He heard a distinct clatter, that of metal striking metal. He’d dropped his scalpel, it took him too long to realize. He hadn’t even felt it, couldn’t perceive as his fingers closed around nothing. He could feel his breaths becoming frantic, his body not listening to his commands. The colors warped, shifted and melded, until everything began to go dark…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew something wasn’t right when you heard a metallic tink as you were coming down the basement stairs. The place was usually home to similar sounds, that of Ruben exchanging one tool for another while he worked, but this time it sounded different. Louder, more chaotic, like something had been dropped. That wasn’t like him - Ruben was meticulous, and took great care of his equipment. It wasn’t like him to be careless.

You’d been on your way down to deliver some water when you heard it. Ruben had trouble remembering his own physical needs while he was working, meaning more often than not, that duty fell to you. You made sure he stayed hydrated, and had something to eat if he got hungry between meals. He feigned irritation, stubborn as he was about being able to take care of himself, but you knew he appreciated what you did. The glasses were always empty when you came back to retrieve them, and his supply of snacks was always steadily depleting. While he didn’t approve of you being in his lab for long, he allowed you these short visits.

Besides, you always sweetened the deal by giving him a quick kiss before you went back upstairs, and you both knew Ruben couldn’t refuse you when you did that.

All such pretense went down the drain when you heard the strange noise, your heart jumping a little. You hurried the rest of the way down, dropping off the glass on a random table when you reached the bottom. Without hesitation, you barged into the room he was working in, not caring if he got mad at you for the intrusion. He was standing before his desk on the far wall, hand poised above a pink blob on a tray. Part of a brain, you supposed, but you hadn’t the foggiest idea which piece.

More worryingly, Ruben hadn’t acknowledged you when you came in. You tilted your head at him quizzically.

“Ruben?” You said, voice meek as you tentatively stepped forward. He offered no response, which only made your concern grow. Upon getting closer, you noticed a slight tremble to his form.

“Ruben? Ruben, what's wrong?” You said, more frantic now. You’d never seen him act like this, and you hadn’t a clue what could be causing him to do so.

You reached out a hand to steady him. His trembling only seemed to be getting worse.

Before you could graze the fabric of his robe with your fingers, his legs appeared to give out. Eyes widening, you jumped forward to catch him, yelping as he dragged you down to the floor with his weight. You collapsed in a tangled heap, Ruben’s body cushioned by your own. The concrete was cold, unforgiving as it bit into your tailbone.

Recovering from the tumble, you looked down at the man in your lap, opening your mouth to ask more questions. You just as quickly froze, feeling Ruben’s body twitch and convulse in your lap. The blood drained from your face, heart in your throat as you watched his body jerk violently.

Seizure, your brain offered through its panic.

“Fuck,” you muttered, setting Ruben gently down on the floor, mind whirling with what you were supposed to do.

He’d warned you this was a possibility. When you two started a relationship, he’d given you a laundry list of various complications that arose from his injuries. Numbness, trouble with temperature regulation, limited movement, muscle stiffness, and yes, seizures were on that list. He told you they happened more often when he was a boy, his body unable to cope with the loss of so much tissue. They didn’t happen as much anymore, but they would never fully go away. There was always a chance of one happening.

Too great a chance, you thought, ripping off your shirt and putting it under his head. He’d given you some basic instructions on what to do if he ever went into such a state, back when he explained all this. It was a bit hard to concentrate though, heart like a drum as you watched him seize.

Safety, safety first, you reminded yourself, spotting a scalpel close by - the one he dropped, you presumed. You quickly snatched it away from him, setting it on his desk so he wouldn’t cut himself. Next, you remembered him telling you to time his seizures, to make sure they didn’t last too long. You grabbed at your phone with shaky fingers, fumbling with the device until you finally got a timer going. Make sure he’s breathing, don’t hold him down, keep things out of his mouth, your mind recited the list, mentally checking off each one as you did it.

His last instruction, stay calm, was admittedly quite a bit harder to honor.

How were you supposed to stay calm with your love seizing on the floor?!

What was minutes felt like hours. You sat beside him, feeling useless and scared as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Ruben told you these weren’t a huge deal, and you trusted him, but being in the presence of it was something else entirely. You felt like you should be able to do more, make it less torturous somehow, but the logical part of you knew you couldn’t. Now it was just about waiting.

Slowly, his muscles began to settle, the spasms happening less often, their strength waning. You spared a look at his face, frowning at the grimace still on it. You hoped he wasn’t in pain. You peeked at the timer; 1 minute 40 seconds, it read.

You let out an anxious breath, rocking back on your shins. Not a medical emergency, then, if it was already clearing up. For that at least, you were grateful.

A deep groan filled the room, and your attention snapped back to Ruben. He was finally starting to regain consciousness, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Once you were sure it was safe, you scooped him up into your lap, cradling his head and shoulders while you softly whispered his name. You nudged his nose with your own, trying to get him to open his eyes. You needed to know he was okay. His flesh was cold, and you held him firmly, giving him as much of your warmth and comfort as you could.

Eventually, it worked. Ruben groaned again, a deep, pained sound, eyelids parting a crack to look up at you. They looked glassy, like he’d abruptly been awoken from a deep sleep. You gave his shoulders a light squeeze, delicately stroking the scarred side of his face while his good side pressed against your chest.

“Ruben, are you okay?” You asked gently, looking at him with clear worry etched into your face.

He blinked at you a few times, taking a moment to process your words.

“I…What happened?” He croaked, his voice horse. You’d have to remember to make him drink something.

“You had a seizure,” was your simple reply. You tried your best to sound calm, but your voice wavered as you spoke, giving you away. “I did my best to keep you safe and comfortable.”

Ruben studied your face for a moment before he nodded stiffly, his attention leaving you to scan the room.

“And where…are we?” He asked.

Ah, the confusion. You remembered he told you that was the most common symptom. Seizures almost always left their victims confused and disoriented.

“We’re in your lab, at the manor,” you told him. He seemed pleased with that answer, the last of the stiffness leaving him as he relaxed into you. Your heart melted as he nuzzled his face into your sternum, blinking lazily as he let out a contented sigh.

Loath as you were to move him, you knew this wasn’t the best place for him to rest.

“Hey,” you kissed his forehead to get his attention. Those pale irises snapped to you instantly; he couldn’t resist your touch. “I’ll take you to bed, okay?” You waited for a response, and after another nod, you continued. “Do you want me to get your wheelchair, or can you stand?”

His nose wrinkled at the mention of his chair. You knew he hated it, hated how much it reminded him how weak his body was, but with mobility being a common issue, he needed to keep it around. You wished for his sake he used it more often, but you never pushed the matter.

“I can walk,” he said quickly. He didn’t need the help, he could do it himself.

To prove his point, he tried to sit up. Tried, being the operative word. His adam’s apple bobbed with anguished grunts as his muscles screamed in protest. Everything was sore, like he’d just run a marathon in sweltering heat. His teeth ground together as he slumped forward, head hung as he fought down a wave of nausea.

“Hey,” you said again, supporting his back so he wouldn’t fall and hit his head. “Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you as far as I can, but if you need the wheelchair, please just ask for it. Now is not the time to be stubborn.”

Ruben huffed at you, but he knew he was in no position to argue. “Fine,” he hissed, letting you loop his arm behind your neck. With a quick countdown, you were able to hoist him up, both of you stumbling a little as you found your footing. His scars pressed up against you as he used you for support, and you did your best not to cause them any unnecessary irritation. After making sure Ruben was okay, you began your slow, awkward hobble up to the second floor.

It was a long, arduous process. One made almost entirely in silence, both of you struggling to put one foot in front of another. Only two questions from him broke the silence on your journey there: how long was the seizure, and why weren’t you wearing a shirt. You had to stifle a laugh at the second one, but you answered them honestly. It wasn’t long before you reached the bedroom, causing you both to sag in relief. You had to kick the door open, leading him inside as gravity shut it behind you.

He plopped onto the sheets heavily, panting from the pain plaguing his joints. You sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb to sooth him. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard something as simple as walking must be after that, especially with his burns already making movement difficult. Your own shoulders were sore from holding him up, but it was a small price to pay if it lessened his own suffering, even if only a little.

After a pause, Ruben sighed, lifting his head to stare at the wall opposite you.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, turning to meet your gaze. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I should be back in the lab.”

Your brows drew down at that, eyes narrowing. Even for him, that was an insane notion. You leaned forward, placing a single finger on his charred nose.

“Liar,” you accused sternly. “I know you want to do more, but you’re in no condition to be running experiments. You need to rest.”

Ruben scowled, removing your hand from his face. “I need to get back to work. I’ve lost enough time as it is.”

You scowled back at him, a harsh rebuttal on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. The expression just as quickly dissolved, replaced by worry and sorrow. You knew how important his work was to him, you knew what he’d done to obtain it. Aside from you, it was everything to him.

“I know,” you said softly. You pushed the hood of his robe down, revealing his scarred, hairless face. You ran your hand along the edge of his jawline, admiring how handsome he looked like that. “I know it means a lot to you…I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He gave you an incredulous look, but you weren’t finished. “I know you’d stay down there every waking moment if you could, and I don’t fault you for that. But I can’t stand the thought of finding you impaled on your own equipment, or one of your subjects getting out because a seizure impaired your judgment. I don’t want to think about what could happen to you if you don’t give yourself a break. So if you can’t do it for yourself, can you at least do it for me?”

Ruben didn’t say anything at first, his eyes rolling over your face while you stroked his own. Part of you expected him to keep arguing; after all, he’d survived this long without you.

Instead, it hardly took a moment before his features began to soften, and he melted into your touch. His eyes closed in sweet bliss as you traced his scars with a loving reverence, basking in the way you worshiped his body.

“Alright,” he breathed. When he looked at you, his eyes were filled with a subtle adoration. “I’ll rest. But only if you promise to stay with me.”

Your face lit up at his condition, smiled brightly at him. You leaned forward, brushing his lips with yours.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you purred, smirking as his pupils widened with desire, a tiny shiver rippling across his skin. God, how easily he became putty in your hands.

Before he got any ideas though, you pulled away, wordlessly tugging at the sleeves of his robe. You both knew it would only catch on his scars while he was under the covers, so it needed to come off. He let you carefully remove it, not a word uttered from either of you as you threw it over your shoulder. You’d deal with it in the morning.

Averting your gaze from his bare chest, heat rushing to your cheeks, you wormed your way back onto the bed, flopping down onto your back. As an afterthought, you unclasped your bra, pulling your arms through it as you tossed it onto the floor. Like hell you were going to sleep in that. Satisfied, you beckoned Ruben to join you, holding out your hand invitingly.

Unfortunately, he was a tad busy, staring wide eyed at your form, to notice. He still wasn’t used to seeing such things, even after living together with you for months.

“No funny business,” you teased, lightly pulling on his arm to make him lay down.

His eyes flicked up and down, meeting yours before admiring you again.

“No promises,” he smirked.

You scoffed, pulling on him enough to finally coax him into action. He hesitantly crawled over you, lowering himself as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He let out another happy sigh as your breasts squished against his flesh, so soft, so warm. You traced along his spine with the pads of your fingers as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, letting your chin rest atop his head. Legs intertwining, he gently clutched at your shoulders while you pulled the blankets over your bodies. You smiled at the feeling of the dual textures of his rough, burnt skin and the smooth, untouched parts of it. The buttons of Ruben’s pants dug into your thigh, but you hardly noticed, instead enjoying this moment of affection between the two of you. You knew you were likely to wake up alone, Ruben having gone back to his lab, so you were going to savor this as long as you could.

As his breathing began to even out, you placed a few final kisses on the crown of his head.

“Rest now, my love,” you whispered, hands continuing their ministrations. “Rest, and I might just let you go back to work tomorrow.”

“As if you could stop me,” Ruben quipped, but his speech was slurred, his heart not in it. Shortly after, his breathing slowed considerably, and you knew he was fast asleep. He must’ve been exhausted; he didn’t usually fall asleep so fast.

Happy he was heeding your words, you closed your eyes, determined to follow suit. You imagined sitting by him in the music room, Ruben expertly plucking a melancholy tune from his piano as you drifted off to sleep.

———————————————————————

It’s been way too fucking long since I posted any fanfics, I almost forgot how I even format my own posts >.<

Anyway, more Ruben x Reader fluff in the future.

[secondbeatsongs]

mister(?) sbs, will you please tell us about "diagnosis: encounter with a squirrel" off the lies poll?

so, my dad has a vendetta against the neighborhood squirrels.

sorry, this is a long one, and I couldn't think of a better place to put the readmore than right here at the start of it, so here we are!

buckle up

so my dad hates the squirrels because they cause property damage and steal the nuts off our pecan tree, and for him it's become personal, so he's waging an all-out squirrel war. he sets traps, he shoots them, and he celebrates each kill as if it's a personal victory.

(I mean hey, I don't like it, but it gives him something to do.)

but the thing is, after my dad kills these squirrels, he just disposes of them. and I think that's a waste, so...I learned how to skin them. to keep their pelts.

that's the backstory here. that's a fun thing you now know about me!

anyway, this has been going pretty well - I now have a pile of squirrel pelts under the porch, waiting for warm weather and free time so I can tan them. and I'm really careful about all of this - I wear gloves, I clean my tools well, and I never run into any problems

or at least I hadn't run into any problems until last November, when one of my nitrile gloves got a hole in it without me noticing, and I got squirrel blood all over my hand.

...a hand where I happened to have an open wound.

yeah. so. I called the local hospital and vaguely explained what happened, and asked, "uh, hey! is this something I need a rabies shot for?"

"uhh," the nurse said helpfully, "we can't give medical advice over the phone. but if you're concerned, feel free to visit the emergency room!"

and. I mean. I wasn't not concerned about it! rabies is like, a death sentence for sure, so??

so I went to the emergency room, and explained what happened to a different nurse, got stared at and told to wait, and after about 45 minutes of killing time (and listening to a man and a woman in the waiting room debate the concept of free will, argue about god, and plan an intervention for their gambling-addicted brother), I got brought back into an exam room

the doctor basically looked at my chart and asked me to explain myself, so I gave her the rundown of "cut open a squirrel, glove broke, got squirrel blood on an open wound, what do I do about that?"

she seemed more confused by this situation than anything else, but she looked up a few things, and then told me that if it had been any other mammal she would have recommended a rabies shot, but that in this area, squirrels are not a rabies risk! and so I didn't have anything to worry about

which, cool! glad to not have rabies!

anyway she disappeared for a bit to finish paperwork and stuff so I could leave, and a few other nurses wandered over and asked me the polite version of, "hey, what the fuck?" so I explained the whole thing all over again, and fielded questions like, "how…exactly…did this happen?" and "is this like...a taxidermy thing?", and "😭 but...why? I love squirrels!" until the doctor returned, told me I could leave, and then cheerfully said, "there you go! your medical record now says, 'diagnosis: encounter with squirrel'! have a nice day!"

it was definitely one of the experiences I've ever had.

but the day after that was pretty fun too, because that's when I got a phone call from the health department!

the person on the line was a nice lady with a strong, gruff southern accent, and she said, "we're required to follow up on all potential rabies risks, and I hear you had uh…a…squirrel encounter?"

jfc.

so I went over it all again with her, explaining how it happened.

times I have now had to explain the squirrel thing: 5

after I got done my sordid tale, she repeated what the doctor said about squirrels not being a rabies risk, and then tacked onto the end, "unless...before it was killed, was the squirrel acting...nutty?"

I am in love with health department lady. we will have a spring wedding.

me: "nah, the squirrel seemed normal."

her: "okay."

her: "do you uh…skin squirrels often? I mean, I can't judge."

me: "no, please do. I encourage it. this is getting ridiculous."

her: "well, still. one of my coworkers - the one I inherited this job from - he left me a taxidermied rat!" :D

me: "oh! that's cool!"

her: "it is!"

…

me: "…anyway"

her: "yeah, have a nice afternoon!"

so, that's the story of how I got squirrel blood on an open wound, got stared at by a bunch of healthcare professionals, and (probably) became a story that people tell to their friends when they need an example of a truly odd person.

the end!

oh, and the moral of this story btw (if you care to know) is that before rushing off to the ER to see if you need a rabies shot, the correct course of action is to call the health department! because they're the ones who have the data to tell you whether or not your health is at risk from getting bled on by a dead squirrel.

(at least, that's what the nice health department lady said. I hope she's doing well! I think of her often)

[msfcatlover]

Changeling!Tim’s childhood is... actually kinda horrifying, when anyone looks into it.

(CW for forced medical procedures, and abuse in the form of temporary imprisonment. Also, minor self-harm, and… I don’t know what you call “eating something that will make you sick so your parents don’t get mad at you,” but I know it ain’t good.)

Tim had pretty pronounced fangs when he was younger, which his parents were just planning to wait out... until he was fast coming up on 10 and it was clear Tim wasn’t going to lose his teeth. A quick x-ray proved that Tim didn’t have adult teeth to grow in, just the one set he came with, and the fangs were only getting more obvious. His parents found an orthodontist willing to yank the fangs & wire up the rest of Tim’s teeth with braces to force them to look smooth & even as he grew up. (The doctor kept the teeth as a curiosity, and a decade later Damian will track that doctor down to steal them back.)

Something even Tim didn’t realize until he had to undergo a full Justice League-grade medical exam in preparation for becoming Robin, is that the tiny points on his ears aren’t natural. They have no idea what the ears of the baby Jack & Janet received looked like, but Tim’s points are actually mostly scar tissue. (Bruce puts it down as “a cosmetic procedure not dissimilar to ear cropping in canines” and tries not to feel sick.)

(There was also a period where the Drakes did an awful lot of research into cosmetic eye surgeries, but they eventually gave up. Apparently, it was a bigger concern that their son might end up blinded than that his eyes glowed in the dark and/or were the wrong color.)

As I mentioned before, Tim’s parents trim his thorns so that nobody goes to ruffle Tim’s hair and realizes he’s not human. He... actually started doing it himself when he decided to become Robin, because Tim has seen Bruce ruffle Jason & Dick’s hair so many times and didn’t want to hurt Bruce (or experience the absolute agony of having a thorn get caught in Bruce’s gloves and end up ripped out of Tim’s scalp,) as well as not wanting to give away Tim’s own inhuman nature with the single most obvious trait he has. (When the rest of the family find out, they are horrified and insist that Tim stop doing that. Instead of hair-ruffles, Tim gets hair-strokes that go only in one direction, bumping harmlessly over the curved outer edges of his thorns; it’s actually very soothing for both parties. Everyone absolutely uses Tim’s thorns as a stim toy, as long as Tim’s okay with it.)

Tim’s parents also hire an in-house barber to cut Tim’s hair, so they can make sure it’s “properly disposed of.” (Tim’s nightmares always smell faintly of burning hair.)

Tim wears fancy dress gloves to all dinners, because with the uppercrust you never know if someone’s going to bring out the real silverware. (If someone tells him to take off the gloves or Tim’s skin happens to brush up against somebody’s jewelry, Tim just sorta has to... deal. It’s rude to rush out or refuse your hosts, after all.) (Fortunately, Dick and the Titans all prefer reusable plastic silverware. And as soon as any Bat finds out about Tim’s fae nature, Wayne Manor quickly switches to stainless steel.)

It’s nearly impossible to know if a meal was prepared with iodized salt or non-iodized salt until it’s already in Tim’s mouth and the burning-itching discomfort of coming in contact with an anti-fae substance begins. It’s rude not to at least try the food someone offers you, and it’s even ruder to just spit something out, especially out in public. At least Tim doesn’t usually have to fake it when he says he’s not feeling well in order to stop eating. (Tim doesn’t tell the Waynes about this until that medical exam, where he kinda jokes about being allergic to salt and someone’s like, “Wait, how do you eat? Everything has salt in it nowadays.” Alfred rather forlornly puts his sea salt up on the top shelf and buys a jar of iodized table salt on the next grocery run.)

Tim’s blood is immediately identifiable because it has chloroplasts in it. No, he’s not actually a plant; yes, he can perform limited photosynthesis. No, Tim was not aware of this about himself, he’s never been allowed to give blood before, and like??? Sure, he figured out he was a changeling, but that does not immediately translate to, “Oh, I should test my blood for plant cells!”

Tim’s room doesn’t look any different from any other boy his age... except for three nails over the door on the outside. For the iron horseshoe Tim’s parents hang there sometimes, when they don’t want him to bother them or when he’s grounded. (Thankfully, it's been very rare for Tim to actually be trapped in his room, as setting up a salt line on his windowsills has always been... well, he's not sure. A step too far, even for his parents? A step too many to remember and/or perform in the heat of the moment? Something they don’t even realize is necessary, assuming the horseshoe prevents Tim from leaving the room at all rather than simply crossing that one threshold? Tim doesn’t like to think about it. Tim typically stays in his room anyway when he feels the swooping nausea of it hanging over his door, if only so his parents don’t find him missing and decide sealing the windows is something they ought to be doing. Trapped not by any law or binding ritual, but by Tim’s own admittedly rare fear of consequences.) (After Tim is snatched by faerie hunters, Jason and Dick are the ones who search Tim’s house. There’s a moment of silence when they find the horseshoe and realize what the nails are for. “I really hope I don’t have to point this out,” Jason says, in the tone of someone who’s going to do it anyway, “but it’s never a good sign when a kid’s bedroom has a lock on the outside.”) 

[i-eat-worlds]

Whumpcember Day 16-Head Injury

@whumpcember

I am so excited for y’all to meet Henle!

cw: medical whump, blood, accidental injury

Joseph had only been apprenticing on Turquoise Team for a whole thirteen minutes when he first met Eric. He’d walked into Henle’s office halfway through Joseph’s orientation. He was bleeding from a cut above his right eye, eye pressed close to keep the blood out of it.

“Hey Henle, sorry to interrupt,” he said, still standing in the half open doorway, blood dripping down his face.

Henle cursed under their breath as they stood up from behind their desk. “Go sit on the exam table, Eric.” They turned to Joseph. “Can you get some pressure on that?”

Joseph stood up, grabbing some gloves off the wall and fishing a pack of gauze out of a cabinet. He quickly pressed a gauze pad to the bleeding wound, putting his other hand behind Eric’s head to stabilize it.

“What happened?” Henle asked, throwing on their own pair of gloves.

“Fell on the training course,” Eric shrugged, winching slightly when he moved his forehead.

“How’d you fall?” They looked at Joseph, queuing him to move his hand out of the way so they could take a look.

“Tripped on my feet and face planted.” Eric grunted in pain as Henle examined the wound. “I was so close to a PR, too.”

Henle pulled their hands away, and Joseph went back to applying pressure. Just like all facial wounds, it was a determined bleeder.

“It’s gonna need stitches, man,” Henle said.

“Ugh, really?” Eric grumbled.

“Yeah, sorry.” Henle went to retrieve some wound care supplies while they spoke. “It’s not a large wound though, so small wins.”

Joseph felt a bit weird watching them interact. He hadn’t really been introduced to the rest of the team yet.

“We can’t suture ‘till the bleeding has stopped, so we might be here for a little longer,” they said as they arranged their materials out on a tray. “Oh, the guy holding pressure on your head is Joseph. New med apprentice.”

“Hi,” Joseph said. He would’ve waved, but his hands were occupied.

“Hey, I’m Eric. Turquoise’s newbie,” he introduced. Henle picked up a penlight, and he groaned. “I don’t have a concussion.”

“Invulnerable or not, I still have to check. Bright light,” Henle clicked the light on, ashing it in his eyes to check his pupils. “Any dizziness, nausea, loss of consciousness or headache afterwards?”

“Nope,” he tried to make a face, but the effect was ruined by his attempt to only move the non injured side, and by Joseph’s hand blocking the other half. “See, no concussion.” Henle raised their eyebrows back at him. Their expression was more eective. “Has the bleeding stopped yet?”

Joseph took a peak. Hemostasis had been reached, and about six minutes ahead of schedule. “You clot fast,” he observed.

“One of the many benefits of invulnerability,” Eric said simply.

“We’re gonna have to lay you down to close it,” Henle said as Joseph turned away and disposed of the bloody gauze. “Oh, hey, you wanna do the closure?” they offered.

“Sure, thanks.” He kept cool on the outside, but did a fist pump internally. After he took a peak at the wound, he started to prepare his local. “I’m gonna numb you up first.”

Eric gave a little thumbs up, and he started to draw up the lidocaine. He could feel Henle’s eyes on him, watching intently while he worked. That was to be expected, really. “Here it comes,” Joseph warned. Lidocaine always stung, but the injection went quick enough.

After he irrigated the wound, he readied his tools and started off. Carefully, he tugged the needle through his skin, pulling the edges of the wound back together. His patient wrinkled his nose. “Those things smell weird.”

“Yeah. We’re nearly done.” The wound wasn’t very long, which was good news in the scaring department. He tied the knot, then clipped off the extra. “Sutures are done. I’m going to put an antibiotic ointment on, then cover it with some Tegaderm. This’ll need to stay on for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Got’cha,” Eric said, aborting a head nod halfway through startinging when he remembered that Joseph was still treating him.

“They’ll need to come out in about three days.” Joseph ddled with the placement of the bandage. “I’d put a reminder in your phone, but we’ll probably bug you about it.

Wound taken care of, Eric sat back up. “Thanks,” he said, offering a fist bump.

Joseph removed his gloves before he returned it. “You're welcome. Don’t keep going kissin’ floors though.”

“Try my best,” Eric said as he hopped o the table and started for the door.

Henle just shook their head. “So that’s Eric, invulnerable idiot.”

“He’s gonna test us, isn’t he?”

“Probably,” they shook their head. “They always do.”

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @oc-writing-corner

[321spongebolt]

Jenny in her nurse form, now with gloves and a mask on her. She doesn’t have to wear them, but I figured she could for demonstrational purposes.

[gingerturtle99]

Just keep breathing chapter 5~ you can’t keep running

Back| MASTERLIST | next

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Hospitals, talks of sex and stds, surgery, trauma , childhood illness, death, medical environment, details of body parts(genitalia)and swearing.

“I could say the same to you, what doctor doesn’t practice safe sex” I say looking up at seungmin whose ears are slowly turning a red. His eyes never leaving the ceiling

“I..I..well…shut up”

A soft giggle escapes my lips and i continue to check over seungmin

“hey min, have you seen…oooo what are we doing? “ I feel a presence lean down next to me..

“DUDE?!?!” Seungmin quickly tries to cover himself with his hands but I shoo them away trying to get a better look at these sores

“Our dear Minnie hasn’t be wrapping it before he taps it and now he’s got an STD” I say taking my hands off seungmin and motion for him to pull up his trousers while I walk over to bin disposing of my gloves.

Seungmin pulls up his boxers and scrub trousers face still bright red .

“It’s syphilis min…so I can go get the antibiotics and give you the shot or you can take the oral ones? Either way no sex for 2 weeks and you should probably tell anyone else you’ve slept with…”

“Wow Y/N you actually sounded like a doctor then…I’m impressed”

“Thanks jisung” I laugh

All the while seungmin looks like he wants the floor to swallow him up as he makes his way over the bed his head in is hands

“I can’t believe I was so stupid”

“I can”

“NOT HELPING!” A sharp slap sound echo’s around the room as seungmin claps jisung up the head for his comment before looking at me.

“Y/N go get the shot…I’ll go into an exam room or something anywhere more sterile than in here”

I just nod , grabbing jisung by the sleeve dragging him out the on call room to give seungmin some peace.

“You leave him alone, you understand me! And don’t go telling all the boys! I’ll know it was you“ I say pointing my finger in jisungs face a smile trying to break its way into my face at I look at jisung smiling down at me, I can tell he’s ready to burst into laughter .

“Ye…pfft..yes ma’am” with a salute jisung turns his back to me and starts walking down the hall way his giggling not stopping .

I roll my eyes and start making my way towards the closest drug locker I can see on this floor.

“Well Doctor L/N you’re not a face we see down here often, what do we owe the pleasure?” A voice sounds from behind me

Causing me to turn on me heel and stare straight at

“Doctor Kim…I..I came down to see Seungmin I..I.mean Doctor Kim he asked me for a consult and I was just heading up back up to peads” I smile up at doyoung who is one of the top cardio attendings , my heart racing like I’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Hey ,hey why so jumpy? It’s not illegal for you to be on the cardio floor . It’d be nice to see you here more often …wait that sounds weird . I’m just gonna…go“ He laughs patting my shoulder before walking off back to where ever he was going.

I blink rapidly, my brain taking its time to process the sentence I just heard.

“What the?…”

I walk over the drug locker , enter my code grab out the antibiotic for seungmin before locking it behind me.

“Doctor L/N to peads , Doctor L/N to peads”

The speaker throughout the hospital blasts “shit shit shit!!!” I look around the floor quickly, looking for someone I can trust to run the antibiotic to seungmin and not ask questions when I see him.

“YO JISUNG!! “ I run up to him handing the capped syringe to him , he looks down confused but a smirk then pulls onto his face.

“Oh yes I get to Stab Kim seungmin in the ass! “ he cheers as he runs off to find seungmin .

“STOP ENJOYING THIS JISUNG!” I shout after him, jisung just waves me off as he skips off the find seungmin.

I quickly pull out my phone texting seungmin telling him jisung has the antibiotic.

I giggle as I run up to peads floor, choosing to take the stairs as it’s quicker than taking the elevator this time. Once I reach peads I lean against a wall to catch my breath before walking to the nurses station.

“Hoshi was looking for you” the nurse behind the station says

“He couldn’t just page me?”

“No he couldn’t “ I jump as the head of peads voice booms from behind me.

“H..hos,,shit..sir hi, how can I help?” I smile softly up at sungyoon while trying to act like I didn’t just have a minor heart attack.

“Language Y/N we are surrounded by children here and I was just wondering if you had thought about that offer I pitched to you, the reason I didn’t page you is because you’ve been avoiding me ever since I brought it up” my heart rate starts to pick up, he’s caught me red handed.

“Sir I promise I’ll let you know, but I’ve got to go check on my pre op patient and then check on some post op’s so I’m super busy” I say slowly backing away from hoshi as I speak , trying to get the furthest away I can before he tries to stop me.

“Y/N…you can keep running from me” hoshis voice booms as I get further and further away.

“Sorry sir gotta run” I quickly turn on my heel speed walking to Jisoo’s room.

Once I reach Jisoo’s room, I knock the door softly just incase she’s fallen asleep. This busy day definitely would’ve taken a lot out of her, plus the pain meds there’s a good chance she’s sparko.

“Come in~~” I hear a voice ring out, one I recognise, I open the door with my eyebrow furrowed in confusion but the sight before causes a smile to creep onto my face. Next to jisoos bed is minho, a princess crown adorning his fluff brown hair and a tiny teacup between his fingers, his pinky raised.

“Min…I mean doctor Lee what are you doing in here? I say as I try not to laugh

“Well Jisoo’s parents wanted to take her brother to the cafeteria to get so grub and you weren’t around so I offered to stay with the munchkin while they went and she wanted to play tea party so I raided the play room for these”minho states as he fixes jisoos crown on her head as she sips her pretend tea from her tea cup.

I go over and pick up jisoos chart to see her sats are already noted down, I raise an eyebrow at minho but shrug placing the chart down.

“What I was here, you weren’t …so I filled it out. Since I’m banned from surgery it was something to do” Minho shrugs at me while jisoo pours him some more tea.

“Well thank you, hey jisoo?” I look at the little girl who’s eyes float up to meet mine. I smile as soon as we make eye contact.

“The next time I see you, I’m going to take that Lego out of your belly okay?”

She nods, a small wince noticeable when she moves her body, my eyes shoot to minho who nods at me, letting me know it wasn’t my imagination. I quickly call the nurse into the room.

“Top up her pain meds please? “ I smile at the nurse who happens to be Haechan but my smile drops when he Looks at me wide eyed.

“She’s maxed out doc, I can give her anymore for another hour”

“Shi…Sugar! Get her prepped the plastic is moving quicker than I thought! I’ll meet you down in the OR!! Minho can you let the parents know?!” I sat quickly running towards the door.

“YEP!”

Shit shit shit… I run quickly to the surgical floor, shouting i need my OR prepped now, quickly getting changed into sterile scrubs as burst into the OR scrub room. As I start scrubbing my heart races, jisoo is wheeled in to the OR. She looks so scared and confused but just as I’m about to finish scrubbing in to enter the OR I see a figure walk into the OR, gown and cat scrub cap dawning his body as he goes and sits next too jisoo holding her hand , the worried look quickly fades and a smile graces her lips as they put her under.

“Lee minho…you big softy”

[rizlowwritessortof]

I posted 119 times in 2022

That's 44 more posts than 2021!

44 posts created (37%)

75 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

@trektraveler

@evansrogerskitten

@ellen-reincarnated1967

@talesmaniac89

I tagged 105 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#dean fic - 44 posts

#dean smut - 20 posts

#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior - 18 posts

#dean au - 14 posts

#dean fluff - 13 posts

#dean x reader - 12 posts

#dear fucking diary - 9 posts

#dean x daisy - 8 posts

#dean x cory - 7 posts

#rancher!dean - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 46 characters

#fun and wonderful and i can't wait for part 7!

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Gladiator Reborn

Just a drabble that came to me after watching the last few seconds of The Boys Season 3 teaser trailer...

PART 2 IS HERE

The room is tense, silent save for the quiet hum of machinery in the lab and the occasional drip from the thawing in the cryo chamber. In the half light you watch him, still unmoving, ready to quickly retreat and allow the guards to step forward and take him down. There are six of them, all holding guns loaded with tranquilizer darts strong enough to drop a charging rhino. This man is far more dangerous than that.

One of his hands has been freed from its restraints, and you are now waiting for him to become alert enough to remove the rest. It’s too dark in the chamber to see much, but when he does move, it surprises you, sends your heart into your throat. He reaches across to tear loose the restraint from his other arm, grabbing the wires and IV in his large hand and yanking them free. His hair and beard are long and wild from the time he has spent in here, and as he slowly raises his head, his lips parted and his eyes dark and feral, he stares directly at you.

You fight back the urge to turn and run. Vought wanted your scientific expertise in cryogenics, and the money was just too tempting to turn down. You wonder fleetingly if that job at the university was really so bad. He takes a step forward, out into the room, his shoulders barely clearing the doorway of the chamber. You force your feet to stay planted as he approaches you, stopping about two feet away as one of the guards barks out an order to halt.

Your eyes follow a drop of water from his hair down his well-muscled chest, and farther. He is naked, a perfect specimen, a gladiator reborn - taut, glowing skin over smooth, toned muscle, and he continues to stare at you as your eyes drift downward, his only movement a slight roll of one shoulder. He has an erection, an impressive one, normal under the circumstances, but it is difficult to stop staring, and you mentally force yourself to move on, evaluating the strong thighs as he stands unashamedly before you. When your gaze finally glides back up over his torso, his chest, and back to his face, a lecherous smirk curves his lips beneath the forest of facial hair.

“Clean him up and bring him to the exam room,” you order, and your assistants nod, fear in their eyes. The guards part, and he turns to go with them, the weight of his stare finally gone. Your hands shaking, you hug your clipboard to your body and head for the exam room to wait.

About forty-five minutes later, the door opens. Still naked, Soldier Boy slowly strides into the room, and the guard waits for your instructions. “Close the door. I’ll call if I need you.” He nods, pulling the door shut behind him.

Your patient stands there, his eyes back on you, waiting. You are afraid to look him in the eye. His hair has been cut and combed, his beard trimmed close - he is stunning to look at and he knows it. You grab a latex glove, and as you snap it into place, he walks to the exam table, bending over slightly and bracing his hands on the sides, waiting. You try not to think about how perfectly he is formed as you perform the necessary task, remove the glove and dispose of it, then ask him to turn and face you. You are the doctor, if anyone should feel humiliated, it should be him, but he just stares at you with a smug little curve at the corner of his lips as you reach between his legs to cup his balls. At least he isn’t still hard. “Please turn your head and cough.” He complies, and you remove your hand, gesturing towards the table with your head as you turn to wash your hands. “Please have a seat.”

You grab the blood pressure cuff and slide it onto his arm, acutely aware of the power there as he obediently allows you to manipulate him into position so you can take his pulse. It is strong and steady, just like his unflinching gaze on you. You remove the cuff and set it aside, taking your stethoscope from around your neck. You listen to his heart, then glance up at his face and say, “Please take a deep breath for me.”

He leans forward slightly, his face almost touching the side of your head, and inhales, long and slow. When he exhales, it’s warm, ruffling your hair a little, and your heart skips a beat. You remove the stethoscope and step back, not missing the fact that he is half hard again, his dark eyes glowing with amusement.

“All right, I think we’re done here. You may go and get dressed.”

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171 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

#4

Gentle as a Sigh

All Dean wants is a little time to worship her like she deserves.

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Word Count: 1872

Warnings: Smut, Somnophilia (Consensual and Planned)

Dividers from the amazing @firefly-graphics

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178 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

#3

Gladiator Reborn - Part 2

I had a few requests for a second part to this, but I couldn’t really wrap my head around it until I’d seen Soldier Boy on the screen. Well, we all saw almost all of him 😁, and his personality in general, and this practically wrote itself...

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Reader

Word Count: 1482

Warnings: Dirty talk, rough-ish sex, Soldier Boy’s attitude (😏)

PART 1 IS HERE

“So, Doc – where were we?”

Every muscle in your body is tensed and rigid, and you try to sound authoritative when you speak. “Soldier Boy. We are finished. You should be in your quarters. I have a report to complete.”

He just smiles, cocky and confident, strolling slowly towards your desk and circling around behind you. “Now, don’t be like that. Pretty thing like you, stuck in this shithole of a job, you’ve gotta be a little lonely. And I know I saw you eyeing my package in there.” He moves closer, leaning down, his voice low, his breath warm on your neck. “Just why do you think I was so hard? Saw you standing there, looking all innocent and nervous, I could tell right away you need a big, strong man to unleash your wild side.” He takes the clip from your hair, combing his fingers through it and brushing it to the side to put his lips right next to your ear. “You afraid of me, Doc?”

You clench your teeth as you speak, the only way to keep your voice from trembling. “No. Now go to your quarters before I call the guards.”

He laughs, and a chill runs down your spine. Your body is practically vibrating with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, and something else you are doggedly trying to deny – arousal. Maybe supes exude some kind of pheromone. Maybe you’re just weak.

“You won’t call the guards.” He leans in close again, nuzzling his nose against your neck. “You’re dying to know how it feels to have a supe inside you. Aren’t you, Doc?” He pulls your chair away from your desk, and you vaguely note the pounding of your heart as he turns you to face him. His voice is soft, yet it resonates in your chest as he continues. “Look at me, pretty girl.” You raise your head, powerless to resist, and meet his gaze. “Look me right in the eye and tell me you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you like you’ve been imagining ever since you saw me step out of that freezer. I can hear your heart racing, and I can smell you, you’re wet for me already. Admit it.”

He takes your hands and pulls you to your feet. You are mesmerized by him, unable to look away from his face, and he smirks knowingly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing the white coat down until it slips to the floor. He never stops watching your face as his fingers deftly free each button of your shirt, and soon it drops as well. His eyes hungrily roam over your chest, a slight smile curving his lips at your plain, white bra. “You are too pure for this place. We’re gonna take care of that.”

Your bra hits the floor in short order, and he grabs your breast with one hand as he crushes you to his chest and kisses you, demanding, breath-stealing, his tongue plunging between your lips aggressively and exploring your mouth. You gasp for air when he finally releases you, your legs weak as he steers you around to face the side of your desk. He shoves things carelessly to the far side of the surface, then palms your breasts, kneading at them as he ruts his erection against your lower back. He plucks at your nipples, nipping and sucking at the slope of your neck, his voice getting rough with arousal as he speaks. “These are too pretty to be in plain white cotton. Maybe I’ll buy you some sexy lace lingerie, you can wear it for me next time.” He lets go of you with one last little pinch to your nipples, pressing your upper body down to the desk and working your skirt up to your waist. He chuckles when he sees your flowered panties, pulling them down your legs and off your feet, tucking them into his pocket. “Those will make a nice souvenir.”

He pulls your hips back, shoving your feet farther apart with one bare foot, and then his hand is between your thighs, his fingers penetrating you, sudden and deep, startling a cry from your dry throat.

“And you tried to pretend you didn’t want this. You’re drenched, kitten. I’m gonna take you for a ride. Might want to hang on.”

You grip the sides of the desk, your legs trembling, blushing as he noisily sucks your essence from his fingers. The blunt head of his large cock nudges you, then splits you open as he drives inside of you with one stroke, grunting, “Yeah!” as he bottoms out. There is no pause, no waiting for you to be comfortable, just a stinging ache that quickly begins to bloom into pleasure as he fucks into you without mercy, your bodies slapping together, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you where he wants you. “Like that big supe cock buried in that cunt, don’t you, Doc? Like being fucked by a real man. Takin’ me like a pro. You’re wasted hidden away in this lab. Maybe Vought will let me keep you, you can be my little live-in cocksucker, be waitin’ naked for me when I get home from saving the world. What do you think, Doc? Pays the same, perks are much better.” God, he liked the sound of his own voice, but fuck if you weren’t getting close, the sound of his voice and his deep, hard thrusts sending you higher and higher.

He lets go of you with one hand, shoving it down between you and the desk, his fingers roughly rubbing at your clit, forcing a little shout from between your clenched teeth. “Yeah, you’re gonna come real hard for me, aren’t ya? Practically crying down there, dripping all over me. You’re gonna come, squeeze that little cunt real hard around me, and then I’m gonna fill you up with supe come. I said fuckin’ come!” He gives your clit a little tug, and you try to stay quiet, but it’s impossible as your vision fades at the edges and you fall apart beneath his onslaught. He laughs, then lets out a long, lewd moan, slamming you into the side of the desk with each violent thrust as he finally explodes with heat inside you. He more than fills you up, hot fluids leaking out to run down the inside of your thighs, and he grunts like an animal as he finishes, panting hard.

You jerk in surprise as he pulls out and lands a stinging swat to your ass before he pulls his pants back in place, staring down at you, still unable to move. “You look good all fucked out and naked, Doc. I’m gonna venture a guess that I passed this part of my physical, wouldn’t you say?”

You slowly, every part of you aching, push yourself up from the desk, letting your skirt fall back in place. You cover yourself with your arms, refusing to look at his smirking face as you grab your shirt from the floor and cover yourself. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you mutter, and he laughs.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” He takes your panties from his pocket and holds them up to his face, breathing in deeply. “Delicious.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

The smile fades from his face. “Now, don’t be unappreciative, kitten. Next time I might have to get rough.”

“There won’t be a next time.” You look up at him defiantly, but a leering smirk spreads across his face, his eyes dark.

“Keep telling yourself that, Doc. I’ll be seeing you.” His eyes sweep over you lecherously, and he turns to leave. “You know, and I know, that I’ll be back. And you know you’ll be craving more. You’re not fooling me with your holier-than-thou attitude. You wanted this, and you’ll want it again. Ain’t no gettin’ over me.”

You watch as he leaves the room, one last leering smile aimed your way as he pulls the door closed behind him. You almost sink to the floor, but manage to make your way to your office bathroom to clean up a little before you put the rest of your clothes on and take your coat from the hook. The drive home seems like a thousand miles, but all you want is to get out of this place and into a hot shower.

You try to feel how you know you should feel - violated, ashamed, angry. But you don’t, not really. You know, the next time he shows up at your door, you’ll end up the same way. You know the cocky son of a bitch was right. You won’t be getting over him.

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237 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

#2

Centerfold

It’s 1973, and you are the assistant to the most famous photographer in the U.S., who just happens to be doing the photoshoot for Playgirl Magazine’s first-ever centerfold. Who better to start things off with a bang than America’s favorite superhero?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Reader

Word Count: 2823

Warnings: None except the usual smut 😊

Fic header was made for me by the FANTASTIC @editsbymichele (Instagram) - thank you again, my friend, you ROCKED IT as always!!!💕

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342 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Little Wild

A middle-of-the-night thunderstorm helps release those pent-up feelings - pretty much just an excuse for Dean smut...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 1637

Warnings: None really, just smut - oral, male and female receiving

Divider by the ever-lovely @talesmaniac89  

The power is out.

You crawl out of bed and go to the window, opening the curtains halfway. It’s pitch black out there, too, except for strobe light images in lightning flashes, the trees whipping in the wind, the cars in the parking lot gleaming, wet with the driving rain.

You don’t hear him move up behind you, but you can feel him. The heat from his body seeps into your back, and you can smell the warm, woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him, feel the almost magnetic pull on your body, urging you to lean back into him. You resist, but it isn’t easy.

“You okay?” he whispers, and you nod.

“Storm woke me.”

You stand there, silently, watching the raging storm together, the air vibrating with something unspoken. After a few moments, he leans down, his lips next to your ear, and murmurs your name. “Doesn’t this make you kinda feel like doing something a little wild?” The tips of his fingers glide up and down your arm, a whisper-soft touch, and suddenly you have to concentrate very hard on the act of breathing. Inhale, exhale, shallow and slow, and you’re feeling a little dizzy. When his lips brush against the slope of your neck, you sway, and his hands on your upper arms hold you steady. “If you want me to go…” He hesitates, unmoving, waiting for you to respond.

“Stay.” It’s the only word you can manage, but it’s enough.

He pulls you back to rest against his bare chest, and you can feel him, already hard, against your lower back. His hands begin to roam, feather-light touches leaving fire in their wake. His hands are warm on your skin as he slides them under your shirt, pulling it upwards. “The window,” you whisper, and he ducks his head to whisper his reply.

“There’s nobody out there in this storm.” He nibbles, right below your ear, and you shiver, then let him pull your shirt up and over your head. You can’t see him, but you can feel his heated stare as he drops your shirt to the floor. His hands move to cup your breasts, gently squeezing, thumbs strumming at your nipples as he watches in the flashes of light from the storm, moaning softly as you squirm against him. “I always wondered what you’d look like, all naked and rosy from being played with, teased.  Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

You’re so aroused you don’t even think about the window anymore. You reach behind you, your fingers digging into the hard muscle of his thigh, and he swears softly. With one hand he continues plucking and tugging at a hard nipple while the other slips beneath the elastic of your panties, pushing between your thighs to cup your pussy, the heel of his hand pressing against your swollen clit.

His fingers trail their way through your lower lips, grazing over your entrance, then dipping inside, just enough to make you clench. He teases you without mercy until you’re whimpering, your legs quivering, and then he gives your nipple a pinch and plunges two fingers inside you to the last knuckle. You whine his name, and he bites at the curve of your neck, sucking a mark there as he fucks you vigorously, growling, “Fuckin’ come for me,” into your ear. A few more thrusts and you do just that with a wordless little shout, your head slamming back into his shoulder and your legs giving out as he lets go of your breast and supports you with his arm around your waist. He swears softly as he works you through it, his breath ragged and hot on your neck.

“Need you on the bed, now,” he whispers, helping you that direction and letting you collapse on the mattress, still trembling as he joins you there. He’s sucking your flavor from his fingers with a groan, then he jerks your panties down and off before moving down, bending your knees and hooking his arms beneath them as he lowers his head to drag the flat of his tongue over you. He takes his time, savoring you, lewd sounds of appreciation driving you even higher. He spears the warm muscle into you, wriggling it around and reaching as deep as he can, making you squirm and cry out beneath him. “Dean… Dean, please…” you begin to beg, and he leaves your cunt with one last sloppy, sucking kiss as he raises his head.

“You wanna come this way, or do you want me to fuck you?”

You moan, long and loud. “Fuck me. Please, Dean, fuck me now, fuck me hard.”

He releases your legs and wipes his face on the sheet before pushing his sweats down and kicking them off, moving up close, his cock prodding at your thigh. “You got it, sweetheart.” He guides himself into place, then thrusts into you, hard, holding himself in as you writhe and whimper at the sweet intrusion. He bends to kiss you then, feverish and hungry, a loud groan vibrating through him as you lightly suck on his tongue. He begins to rock against you, finally lifting his head as he starts to pull out and drive back into you, hard enough that you can hear your bodies slapping together. He’s fucking into you so hard, so deep that your head is spinning with the beginnings of another orgasm.

Your nails are digging into his back, your legs clamped around his hips, and he shifts slightly so he can get a thumb down between you, rubbing your clit hard. You shout his name, beginning to buck and arch up into him, and he growls, impossibly fucking you faster, finally exploding into you, spurting hot and thick until he drops, spent, on top of you.

When you wake, the alarm clock next to the bed is flashing – the lights are back on. Dean has closed the curtains, and a ribbon of light glows under the bathroom door. It goes out before the door opens, and he comes back into the room, his naked body lit only by the night light near the sink. “Sorry, guess I passed out,” you mumble, foggy from sleep. He smiles, slipping back under the covers, bending to kiss you, tasting faintly of toothpaste.

“Yeah, me, too.”

You turn towards him, letting him slide an arm beneath you and pull you close. “What made you come in here? I mean, you’ve never…”

“I just peeked in to make sure you were okay, and saw you standing there in front of the window, the lightning flashing around you, and – I don’t know, I just fucking wanted you, bad enough to ignore all the reasons I used to tell myself that I shouldn’t. I just hoped you’d want me back.”

You let your hand roam over his chest, then trail slowly down his belly, feeling the muscles contract as your fingers tickle through the thatch of hair below. His cock twitches, begins to swell, and you caress it gently, encouraging it to grow. “I do. Have for a long time, I just never admitted it to myself. Glad that’s all behind us now.” Dean’s breathing is growing heavier with your every touch, and you slowly pull the blankets down, admiring the view. He’s fully hard now, his cock moving slightly with every pulse of his heartbeat. You move down, one hand grasping him gently as you kiss the very tip, then set your tongue to work, tasting every glorious inch and then focusing your attention to the head, swirling around and then dipping into the slit with each pass. When you finally take him into your mouth, he groans deep in his chest, his hand moving to the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuuuuuuck….” His grip tightens in your hair as he struggles not to thrust up into your mouth. You hum with pleasure, taking him in as far as you can manage and sucking as you pull back, taking him deeper each time until he is breaching your throat, making you fight not to gag. Instead, you force yourself to swallow around him, and he arches up under you, a desperate moan grating its way from his throat. Your jaw beginning to ache, you work him harder, pushing him to his limit, and he finally gives in. You relax your jaw as he thrusts up into your mouth, his cock swelling and then pulsing hot, flooding your mouth and throat as he comes.

You struggle to swallow as much as you can, wiping your mouth on the sheet as you pull off him, laying your head on his belly as he pants, moaning softly at the gentle kisses you place there.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to clean up a bit and brush your teeth, you return, and Dean reaches for you. “C’mere, sweetheart.” You join him, crawling willingly into his arms and kissing him, his hands caressing your soft skin, pressing you closer.

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342 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

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[gnomoflux]

I was walking to school, it's not too far away from home. My dad always tells me that I need to exercise if I want to keep a strong, buff body, or else it wouldn't make sense for humans. And I wanted to keep playing football, so a strong body is the obvious choice. Anyway...

Suddenly, a white van with extremely dark tinted windows pulled over and I had no time to react. Two guys got out, one of them wrapped a dark bag over my head and the other grabbed and threw me inside the van. I knew this was a kidnapping, and I was sure they would go through my phone to call my parents and demand ransom...

But I was wrong.

You see, after they left me in this basement, I could still reach their presence inside the house, on the ground level. There was a third guy there, the driver I'm sure, but his presence was... off. If I could compare with water, a common person would be a clean glass of water. The two brutes were muddy water, still good if you filter correctly. But the third... that was putrid. I wouldn't even compare him to water.

I don't know what he did, but quickly the presence of the other two vanished, as if ceasing to exist. He killed them? They were not expecting that, and the horror I felt on them was so abrupt and vapid it wouldn't even be noticeable if I wasn't paying attention.

I don't know why it took him so long to come down to the basement, probably he was disposing of the bodies... but finally he came down. He was wearing a yellow raincoat, rubber boots and cleaning gloves. Obvious red stains on the front of the raincoat. And he was holding a butcher knife with something red dripping from the blade, the stench of blood very obvious.

That's when I decided to mess with him. You see, both my parents told me to keep my powers to myself, never to show them around. But I thought this situation demands a little rulebreaking...

With each step he took forward, I let my body grow more muscular, until he's less than 5 feet away from me. In that instant, I was too ripped to be contained - both the ropes that tied me up and my school's uniform teared down, scattering on the floor. His face of surprise was pure bliss for me, but I wasn't done. Hehe, not even nearly done.

He turned around, to flee the basement I think, and I slammed shut the door and locked it. I slowly got up and walked up to him, my horns slowly sprouting on my forehead and my skin assuming a redder tone. "Not so brave now, eh, Eric?" Prying into his mind was like running through a maze, but at least the only information I needed was right at the entrance: mentioning his name made the butcher knife shake in his hand. "Who are you?" he asked, basically without courage enough to say anything else. I smiled gently before replying. "I am your worst error... and your worst nightmare."

"I offer you a deal." I continued. I can't even remember his face now without holding in a laughter. "Hand yourself in to the police, confess to all your crimes and where to find the bodies, and I won't devour your soul." I always wanted to torment an evil soul, but I shouldn't draw the humans' attention to me. Thankfully, there were no humans in that basement. I took a grip at his wrist and removed the knife from his hand, playing with it in front of his face. To make a point, I licked the blood on it... yuck, that was disgusting, I know. "You have 12 hours for that."

After that, I unlocked the door and slammed it open, and he darted out of the basement. I could feel his presence running away. After that, I made sure to remove any evidence of me being there - reconstructed the ripped shirt and erased any trace of me on the knife before dropping it on the ground. Shrinked back to my usual size, went back to my skincolor and hid the horns, put on my shirt and darted back home.

I lost a math exam that day, but when I explained everything to my parents they understood. They don't aprove me lying like that - I couldn't devour human souls even if I wanted, that's another type of demon. But they'll let it slide if I get an A on the next exam. I don't know how they managed to convince Mrs. Piper to let me do the exam even after missing it, but I don't need to know.

You were born into a family of demons who escaped hell to live a normal life under humans. Your parents told you never to use your demonic powers. That is until you’re kidnapped by a serial killer of your hometown who you decide to teach a lesson.

[conniephleb]

Mastering CNA Phlebotomy: Essential Skills Every Healthcare Assistant Should Know

Mastering CNA Phlebotomy: ​Essential Skills Every⁣ Healthcare Assistant Should Know

‌ ⁢ ​ ‌ ⁣‍ ⁢ As‍ a⁤ Certified ‌Nursing Assistant (CNA), one of the growing ‌demands in the healthcare field is proficiency in ⁣phlebotomy.‍ This ‍essential skill ‌not only enhances your ⁣capabilities as a healthcare assistant but also significantly contributes to patient care. In ⁣this​ article,⁣ we’ll explore the fundamental⁢ phlebotomy skills every ​CNA should master,‍ along with practical tips, benefits, and⁤ real-world experiences. Whether you’re just starting your career or⁢ looking to enhance your skillset, this guide is for you!

Understanding⁢ Phlebotomy:⁤ The Basics

⁢ ⁣ Phlebotomy⁢ is the practice of drawing blood for medical tests, transfusions, donations, or research. It plays a critical‍ role ⁣in ⁤diagnosing diseases and monitoring health conditions.⁣ For‌ CNAs, having basic phlebotomy skills is increasingly⁤ advantageous, allowing you to contribute‌ more effectively to ⁣patient care.

Essential Phlebotomy Skills for CNAs

‍ ⁣ ⁢ ​ ‍​ ‍ To master phlebotomy as a ⁤CNA, several key skills are required:

1. Understanding Anatomy and ⁢Blood Circulation

⁣ ‌ ‌ A ⁤comprehensive‍ understanding of the human anatomy,⁢ particularly the venous system, is crucial. Familiarizing yourself with common ⁢venipuncture sites such⁣ as​ the median cubital vein, cephalic vein, and basilic vein is essential for successful blood draws.

2. Properly Using Phlebotomy Equipment

⁣ ‌ ⁣ ​ ‌ ⁣ ⁢ ‌ Familiarity with phlebotomy tools and equipment ​is vital. Key items include:

Needles (various ⁢gauges)

Vacutainer systems

Alcohol swabs

Gloves

Bandages

3. Infection⁢ Control and Safety Procedures

⁢ ⁢ ⁣ Adhering to strict infection control protocols is critical. This includes:

Wearing gloves and other protective gear

Disinfecting all equipment ​and skin surfaces

Properly disposing of needles and biohazard materials

Benefits of Mastering Phlebotomy as a ‍CNA

⁣ ⁢ Mastering phlebotomy offers numerous advantages:

Enhanced Job Opportunities: Proficiency ⁢in phlebotomy increases your employability and can‍ lead to higher-paying positions.

Improved Patient‍ Care: Skills in ​phlebotomy enable you to assist with various procedures,‍ thereby ensuring that patients receive timely care.

Professional Growth: Gaining new ‍skills can pave ⁤the way for further advancements in your⁣ healthcare career.

Practical ⁤Tips for ⁤Successful Phlebotomy

‌ ⁣ ⁣ ⁤ ⁤ ‍ Here⁤ are some practical tips to help you excel in phlebotomy:

Practice, Practice, Practice: ⁣The more you⁤ practice, the more comfortable ​and skilled⁣ you⁣ will‌ become. Seek opportunities for hands-on training whenever possible.

Stay Calm and ‍Composed: Patient reassurance‌ can significantly reduce anxiety and‍ improve their experience.

Double-Check Labels: Always ensure that samples are ⁢correctly labeled to avoid any mix-ups.

Case‌ Studies ​and First-Hand Experience

‌ ‍ ‌ ⁣ Numerous CNAs have⁢ significantly benefited from mastering phlebotomy. For instance, a CNA named‍ Jamie shared her story of how learning blood draw techniques‍ boosted her confidence when assisting in medical procedures.

⁤ ​ ‍ ⁢ ‌ ⁤ Jamie stated, “Once I learned effective phlebotomy techniques, I felt more integrated into the healthcare⁢ team. I also noticed that my relationships with‌ patients improved as they appreciated my ability⁣ to help during their diagnostic procedures.”

How to Get ‍Trained in Phlebotomy

‍ ​ ‍ ‌ Many community colleges ⁤and vocational schools offer phlebotomy programs‌ tailored ⁢for healthcare assistants. Here’s a brief overview of what ‍to⁤ expect ⁢in training:

Training Component

Description

Theory ⁢Classes

Introduction to​ anatomy, blood types, and regulations.

Hands-On Practice

Supervised⁢ blood⁤ draws on training dummies.

Certification

Passing exams to obtain ⁤certification in phlebotomy.

Conclusion

⁣Mastering​ phlebotomy is an⁣ invaluable asset for ​any CNA aiming to⁢ excel in the healthcare field. Not only does it enhance your skillset and⁢ expand your ‌professional opportunities, ‌but it‌ also assures patients that they‌ are⁣ receiving competent care. By acquiring essential phlebotomy ⁤skills,⁣ practicing consistently, and adhering ​to strict safety protocols, you’ll provide ‍better patient experiences‌ and contribute positively to healthcare teams.⁣ Start your journey today⁢ and ​become a proficient healthcare assistant⁣ capable of making ​a difference.

https://phlebotomytrainingcenter.net/mastering-cna-phlebotomy-essential-skills-every-healthcare-assistant-should-know/