#GE monitor

[usocmedical]

Use of good patient cables in healthcare facilities

Good biomedical equipment and supplies are extremely essential for delivering high-quality care in a hospital setting. They can be used for a variety of purposes. For instance, GE MONITOR is used to monitor patient vital signs and other parameters. These parameters include heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen saturation. Such details are critical for identifying changes in patient status and making appropriate interventions. By choosing to invest in innovative technologies, and ensuring that the biomedical equipment and supplies used at the facility are up-to-date and well-maintained, hospitals can improve patient outcomes to a good extent, and operate more efficiently and effectively.

In addition to the purchase of cutting-edge devices like patient monitors, hospitals must also be proactive about the procurement of simpler supplies like GE Patient Cables. These medical cables are basically used for connecting the GE patient monitoring devices to the patients. Such cables can effectively transmit physiological signals such as ECG, oxygen saturation, temperature and blood pressure, from the patient to the monitoring device. This essentially allows healthcare professionals to competently monitor the vital signs of the patients, as well as their overall health status.

Patient cables or medical cables can come in a variety of configurations and types, based on the specific patient parameters being measured and monitoring devices. Invasive blood pressure cables, ECG cables, SpO2 cables and temperature cables, are some of the most common types of patient cables available today. Details of patient cables, and even items like GE Masimo LNC SPO2, can be found online.

[iteamanz]

Medical care demands a safe, clean environment. With the rise of COVID-19 and antibiotic-resistant diseases, now more than ever, cleaning must go beyond appearances as a matter of community health.

So, how can you ensure that your ER, recovery rooms, hallways, kitchen, washroom areas, elevators—every floor in the hospital—are clean enough to conform to the standards of high-quality healthcare? With our commecial healthcare cleaning tools combined with the i-know kit, you can monitor the cleanliness of all touchpoint areas. See the best cleaning tools for hospitals, including our i-know test kit to determine if surfaces have been adequately cleaned.

With i-know, it only takes around 60 seconds to measure dirt levels on a surface. That speed and accuracy empowers cleaning teams with useful data to get objective feedback on the quality of their commercial cleaning practises.

[highlands11]

PLAN DE RELANCE : L’HERBE EST-ELLE PLUS VERTE AUX ÉTATS-UNIS ?

le plan de relance américain fonctionne-t-il mieux que chez nous? Les nouveaux enjeux environnementaux des PFAS (entre autres) font-ils sens chez nous voisins d'outre atlantique? Réponses.

Temps de lecture : 4 minutesmots-clés : Congrès américain, Europe, PFAS, plan de relance, bilan carbone, GES, lobbys, mobilité, monitoring Chers lecteurs, Vous connaissez mon intérêt à suivre l’actualité urbanistique et numérique aux USA. Cette démarche nous permet de prendre du recul sur certains sujets ici en Europe. Nous vous proposons ici d’analyser le plan américain de relance…

[starvity]

— ☆ sides zb1 only show when they’re with you

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: insecurities, jealousy, a bit angsty for gyuv and yujin

author’s note: this was such an interesting request and i had so much fun thinking about what to put for each member!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong - his funny side

okay i’m not saying jiwoong isn’t funny usually but he would be the FUNNIEST when he’s with you. he's most of the time someone kind of serious and reserved in public settings but then he would suddenly whisper a funny comment (that only you heard) and you would have to fight internally to not burst out laughing. some other time, you’re just getting ready to sleep, already cuddled up in the blanket while waiting for jiwoong, when his silly side would appear. like he would be brushing his teeth then he would start running around and doing some handstands on you idk???? he’s just a silly guy

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao - his protective side

hao loves himself a good princess treatment. he would always use his puppy eyes to get whatever he wants from you and you both know it, that you can never win. and that dynamic works for your relationship!! but then sometimes you appear in front of hao looking a bit more tired, stressed, or sick than usual and it’s like something switches in his brain. he will treat you like absolute royalty, that being by doing the chores, giving you a massage, cooking for you, cuddling with you? ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! that always happens when you’re away from him too, walking home or coming back late from a party. he will come pick you up whenever he can or at least ask you to facetime him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin - his jealous side

i am certain that not a single person on this planet can dislike this man. he is loved by everyone and everyone knows him. when you two go out on a date he would usually be the one to meet like 5 of his friends on the way. but today it was your turn to randomly meet one of your old high school friends in a store. naturally, they come to hug you and keep an arm around your waist while you two catch up on each other’s life. suddenly, you feel hanbin’s arm slide around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "i’m their boyfriend, by the way." he says, with a smirk on his face and his eyes turning dark.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew - his insecure side

matthew is your biggest fan. he will always hype you up, telling you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person he’s ever met. he will brag about you to his friends and talk about you to his family all the time. but when you do the same for him, he immediately gets shy, saying that it isn’t true and that you’re doing too much. you frown, repeating that he’s just perfect and he shakes his head again. you cup his jaw with your hands to make him look at you. "you.are.amazing.matt." you repeat, kissing his lips between every word. he lowers his gaze, a pinkish color settling on his cheeks "you really think so?"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae - his calm side

dating taerae can be a bit exhausting sometimes (especially if you’re introverted) because this man YELLS. like it’s not even that he does it on purpose most of the time, he just has a really prominent voice. he would be playing video games online with his friends and he wouldn’t even hear how loud he is screaming because of his headphones. you throw a pillow at him, monitoring a "silence" motion with your index finger as you were trying to take a nap. after mouthing a sorry, taerae delicately turns off his computer, puts his headphones aside and takes his guitar before sitting next to you on the bed. he strokes your hair, apologising with now the calmest voice before he starts singing you to sleep with his sweet voice.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky - his attentive side

you don't even try to figure out what's on ricky's mind sometimes. he would start talking about some random subject, then starts talking about another, then another... he himself would be distracted with his own words when he's talking to you that he would need to get quiet, blink a few times and let out a "what?" before laughing and trying to focus again. he can be easily distracted but he is also really observant, especially around you. one day he started talking about all the little habits you have that he finds endearing and you realised that you weren't even aware that you had half of these.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin - his serious side

one thing about gyuvin is that he's always going to make fun of people. and you being his partner gets the WORST treatment. he was on his phone when he suddenly laughs, shoving it in your face. you were horrified when you saw the ugliest picture of you sleeping and started begging him to delete it. he continues laughing as you try to snatch the device out of his hands but, again, he was too tall. without even you knowing, tears roll down your cheeks and the expression on gyuvin's face completely changes. he takes you in his arms, stroking you back and apologising over and over again. later in the evening, you two had a deep conversation and he asks to set boundaries because he never wants to hurt you ever again. (he won't stop making fun of you though, as far as you allow him <3)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook - his cute side

mister giant baby thinks that his role is to protect you no matter what. he thinks he always need to be tough, and that you're probably just dating him to open jars and carry heavy stuff for you??? "can i be the big spoon today?" you ask, opening your arms for gunwook who had just showered after coming back from practice. he looks at you confused, at first disapproving because blah blah he's the big boy here before sighing and placing his head on your chest. you suddenly see his eyes soften at the sudden contact as you pull him closer. gunwook hums contently and closes his eyes. "not so bad , after all?" you chuckle while stroking his cheek with your thumb. "shut up~" he whines in a cute voice, hiding his face in your neck.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin - his emotional side

you know that it is not easy to read yujin like an open book. and since he's also pretty new to the whole relationship thing, he finds it quite hard to express his emotions, especially around you. you were studying in yujin's room while he was practicing his vocals in the bathroom (the acoustic is good, apparently). and you were so focused on studying for your next test that you didn't hear nor see the door open a minute ago. "can i talk to you?" yujin's voice startles you from across the room and you gulp nervously, inviting him to sit next to you. he suddenly leans his head on your shoulder and your hand naturally comes up to pet his head. "i feel like i haven't been doing really good lately, with my vocals and dancing... and like i don't know if i'm even good enough..." you listen attentively to his worries and reassures him that he's doing great and that you're proud of him. (might have teared up a little).

[corroded-hellfire]

Can we get Reader’s first Mother’s Day after Eliza is born? I’m imagining Eliza in a little “I 🩷 Mommy” onesie.

Also manifesting a heartfelt moment between Reader & Ryan ok byeeeee ✌🏻

Eliza in onesie? Check. Heartfelt moment with Ryan? Check. Cheesiness? Check.

Words: 6.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A low whining starts off slow but grows in both volume and intensity. The moment it registers in Eddie’s sleeping brain, he blinks his eyes open and is quick to grab the baby monitor and turn the sound down so it doesn’t wake you. Gently, he sets the monitor back down on his nightstand and rolls to look over his shoulder, checking to see if you’re still asleep. 

A sleepy smile grows on Eddie’s face as he watches you, still out like a light, lips parted, and curled up with the comforter tucked up over your shoulder. If he didn’t have to get up to get your daughter, your husband would burrow under the blankets and cuddle up against you for the rest of the morning. But today is all about you and that starts with Eddie getting up bright and early so you don’t have to.

The moment the door to Eliza’s nursery cracks open, her whines go from half-hearted to insistent. She knows someone is there and she is going to make damn sure they hear her and come get her. 

“Hey, there’s my little sunshine,” Eddie says as he steps into the nursery. 

Eliza watches him with her wide brown eyes as he goes over to her pink curtains, parting them to let some light filter into the room. The sun isn’t even fully out yet, but the brightening gray sky provides enough of a shine to see by.

“How’d you sleep, hmm?” Eddie asks as he picks the seven-month-old up out of her crib. 

Her chubby little fingers instantly grab at the shoulder of Eddie’s faded Hellfire shirt. She sighs contently when her dad presses a few kisses into the wispy baby hairs at her temple. 

“You hungry?” 

The rest of the house is silent as the two make their way to the kitchen. Eliza’s little hums and coos keep her occupied, like she’s having some sort of conversation, as Eddie sets her into her Disney princess highchair.

“I’ll heat up a bottle and then we’ll go watch some TV, okay?” Eddie asks the baby through a yawn.

He receives no reply as he pulls a prepared baby bottle out of the refrigerator and pops it into the microwave. As it heats up, Eddie goes around the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan, a spatula, and some cooking spray. Eliza watches with curiosity, but the moment the microwave beeps, her eyes snap in that direction, and she whines to get the attention of her father.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie says, ruffling the tiny bit of hair that Eliza has as he passes by her.

The milk passes the wrist temperature test, so Eddie scoops his daughter up and makes his way into the living room with her. 

“Okay,” he says through another yawn. “What should we watch? Let’s see what’s already in the DVD player. Oh, you like Hercules. Perfect.”

Eddie presses play on the remote and settles down on the couch with Eliza. He kicks out his plaid pajama clad legs and rests his feet on the coffee table as he situates Eliza against his body so he’s best able to feed her. 

The little girl eagerly accepts her food, snuggling back against her dad’s chest as she takes over the responsibility of holding the bottle. Her eyes remain trained on the screen as she drinks, Eddie becoming invested in the movie as well. He even starts to sing to her as she finishes up the last of her milk.

“Like a shooting star, I will go the distance

I will search the world, I will face its harms

I don’t care how far, I can go the distance

‘Til I find my hero’s welcome waiting in your arms.”

Bright, shining eyes stare up at Eddie, making him chuckle once the song is over. Eliza blinks a few times, her dark long lashes kissing her cheeks with each flutter.

“Like when I sing?” Eddie asks her. 

As a response, she drops her empty bottle and snuggles even further into her dad’s chest, making herself as comfortable as possible. Eddie gently rests his head atop her softer, smaller one and keeps watching the movie with her. 

About halfway through the movie, Ryan comes down the hallway, rubbing his left eye as he trudges into the living room. 

“Morning, pal,” Eddie greets.

“Mornin’,” Ryan answers, waving to his little sister as he passes the couch. 

Eddie turns his head to tell his son, “I got everything you’ll need out for you. On the counter by the stove. Well, you’ll need to get the food parts out of the fridge, but I got the other stuff.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says as he continues on to the kitchen. 

Now instead of the movie, Eddie’s attention is on any and all sounds coming from the kitchen. Yes, he trusts Ryan and knows he’s a competent kid—but he’s still only a twelve-year-old kid. After about ten minutes, Eddie can’t take it any longer and places Eliza in her pink flowery walker so he can go check in on his oldest son. 

Ryan’s doing surprisingly well. He has all the ingredients that he needs out, and he has everything set up around him. He’s about to open the carton of eggs when Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Did you wash your hands before you started cooking?”

“Oh, right.” 

As Ryan goes over to the sink, Eddie hears “Hi, Eliza!” come from the living room. The heavy tread that accompanies the voice lets Eddie know exactly where Luke is until the ten-year-old pops up beside him.

“I’m hungry,” Luke says. 

Eddie musses up the boy’s curls and nods his head.

“Eliza and I will go wake up the star of the day and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

The door to your bedroom slowly swings open, the heads of your husband and daughter popping in. The moment Eliza’s gaze falls on you, she immediately wants to be brought to your side. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie whispers as he walks over to the bed. He sits down on his side of the bed and lets Eliza go, who wastes no time crawling over to you. She wraps her small arms around your head, hugging it, and making Eddie laugh. “Why don’t you give Mommy some kisses? Wake her up like Sleeping Beauty?”

Eliza just tilts her head to look up at him, not knowing what he means. Your husband demonstrates by leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. This motion is what wakes you up, but you give no sign of being conscious, enjoying listening to your husband and daughter. 

The infant does her best to copy her father, but really just slobbers on your face, which makes you laugh and peek your eyes open at her.

“Well, hello there,” you say, wiping baby drool off of your nose before it can run down any farther. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Eddie cheers, one hand on Eliza’s back as if he’s encouraging her to say it as well.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea.” You press a kiss to your daughter’s cheek. “And thank you, baby.” Eddie leans in and gives you a peck on the lips. “Where are my boys?”

“Ryan is actually preparing your first gift of the day,” Eddie explains. ���And Luke is either helping him or being a pain in the ass.”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Luke rushes into the room and does a running jump onto the bed.

“I’m heeeeeeere!”

Your middle child belly flops on the foot of the bed before army crawling up to you and wrapping an arm around your neck to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he says.

“Thank you, honey.”

You take a look around at everyone on the bed and stick your lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m missing my oldest.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Eliza’s head and makes sure she’s securely between you and Luke before he gets up from the bed.

“Let me go check on him.”

While Eddie walks out of the room, Luke wriggles himself so his arms wrap around Eliza’s small frame and lays his head on your shoulder.

“So,” he says, looking up at you, his blue eyes full of excitement. “It’s a surprise but you gotta know so you’ll be ready on time so I’m gonna tell you my gift!”

“Ready on time?” you ask, brows pinching together.

“Mhmm!” Luke says, letting Eliza chew on his thumb. “The art studio near Dad’s work is having a special Mommy and Me painting day and you and I are gonna go!”

“Luke, that sounds perfect,” you say, a bright grin lighting up your face. “I can’t wait.”

Eddie steps back into the room with Ryan, who has batter smudged on his nose. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Ryan says, coming over and giving you a hug.

“Thank you, sweetheart. What have you been making a mess of?” you tease, poking his nose just below the smeared batter. 

“My present to you!” he says excitedly. “I made breakfast. Just for the two of us.”

A gasp of excitement escapes your lips, and you rest your forehead against Ryan’s.

“He’s even set up a nice place setting out on the porch for you guys,” Eddie adds. “I’ll be managing the gremlins inside.”

“Hey! Who you calling a gremlin?” Luke asks, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at his father.

As if in response, Eliza presses her hands flat against Luke’s stomach and gives him a push.

“He was talking about you too, you know,” Luke tells his baby sister with a sigh. She copies his sigh and flops dramatically across his lap. 

There’s a soft breeze outside as you sit across the table from Ryan, enjoying the French toast breakfast that he made for the two of you. Surprisingly, it tastes really good—better than any breakfast that’s been made for you in a long time.

“I think you should take over cooking for your dad from now on,” you tell Ryan with a playful smirk on your face. Before he can respond, your eyes catch on the mug sitting at your place setting. It’s white with a gold handle, and in the same golden color it says “World’s Best Mom” in a swoopy font.

For a moment you just stare at it, admiring it, and feeling your heart fill up with warmth. Carefully, you reach forward and lift the mug full of coffee towards you.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart,” you tell Ryan, looking at him over the rim of the mug. “Thank you.”

There’s a smile on Ryan’s face that’s a mixture of excitement and that mischievous look he used to get when he was a little boy. 

“You should look at the back,” he says as you’re mid-sip.

Once you swallow your mouthful of coffee, you slowly turn the mug one hundred and eighty degrees to take a look at the other side. The sight that greets you has your eyes immediately filling with tears. Printed on the mug is a family picture of the five of you—the very first picture the five of you had taken together after Eliza had been born. The newborn is still wrapped in her blanket from the hospital as you hold her while sitting on the couch, Eddie right beside you. On his other side is Luke, grinning that hundred-watt smile that can light up any room. And on your other side is Ryan, leaning in close because just before the picture was snapped, he had his head bent over Eliza and was telling her that she was home now. 

As much as you want to thank Ryan for the gift, your throat feels too constricted for words. 

“Oh my God,” you’re finally able to squeak out. It takes you another few moments before you can speak again. “Ryan, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You set the mug back down on the table and open your arms for him. The oldest Munson boy pushes out of his chair and walks around the table, where you pull him into a bone crushing hug. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you to embrace you in return. Giving a little extra tug, you pull Ryan all the way into your lap, which has him laughing even harder. The pure joy his laughter radiates has you even more emotional than you already were. 

“I don’t care if you’re too big for this now!” you say, words muffled against his back. Ryan tries to situate himself a little better, so you loosen your grip but don’t let him go. He drops his head back, realizing he isn’t going to be let free just yet, and the way the back of his skull becomes cradled in the crook of your elbow reminds you of how you held Eliza when she was smaller. A chuckle stuffed with a dozen different emotions bubbles out of you and you smooth some of Ryan’s golden brown curls off his forehead. 

“I don’t care that you’ll be a teenager soon. I don’t care that you’re almost as tall as me. You’re still my little boy. You’ll always be my little boy.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of Ryan's mouth.

“I’m so lucky that you’re my son,” you say softly. 

Doe eyes that are so much like his father’s and his sister’s stare up at you from where his head rests on your arm, love and curiosity in his gaze.

“Did you love us before you loved Dad?” he asks.

It’s not something you expected him to ask, not something you thought about in a long time.

“That’s a tricky question,” you say, brows pinching together. “Because they’re different types of love. But, yeah, I did love you guys first. It was impossible not to after spending time with you.”

Ryan tilts his head, looking away pensively. He’s quiet and you wish you knew what was going on in his brilliant, beautiful mind.

“That’s pretty cool,” he finally says. “Some people have trouble finding the person they belong with. But you found three.” He smiles. “You were always meant to be my mom.”

The tears that began to build up earlier now fall down your cheeks and Ryan is quick to sit up and wipe them away. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“It’s a good cry,” you assure him with a watery smile through your sniffles. “It’s very, very good.”

The second that you step through the door into the classroom where the Mommy and Me paint session is happening, Luke’s eyes go wide. All the art that hangs on the walls mesmerizes him as the two of you find a pair of empty canvases to sit at. 

Towards the back of the room, you and Luke take seats at a table on the left side. There are two easels perched on the table that hold blank white canvases. Between the two, there are a myriad of colored paints for you and Luke to share, as well as a variety of brushes of different sizes. 

You’re about to redirect Luke into a conversation with you because it seems like all the art surrounding him has him on overdrive, head constantly on a swivel in an attempt to see everything and you don’t want him to get overstimulated. But before you can open your mouth, the teacher at the front of the class calls for attention. 

“Happy Mother’s Day everyone!” she says. “I’m so glad that so many of you wanted to spend time painting with your moms today! I’m Hannah and I’ll be your instructor for this class.” Hannah explains the basic rules, how the class works, and offers to answer any questions. “Sometimes we have themes we work on in these classes, but I’m not here to tell you what to paint. But wouldn’t it be cool if each mom and child’s set of paintings had a common theme?”

Luke perks up at this, instantly loving the idea. He swivels to you in his seat and nods his head so emphatically he reminds you of a bobblehead doll.

When you’re given free rein to work on your paintings, Luke plucks a thin paintbrush out of the holder and taps it against his chin.

“What should we paint?”

“What about…the ocean?” you suggest. “You can paint the pirate ship that’s on top of the water and I can paint the mermaid that’s under the water.”

Luke gets very excited about your idea and nods enthusiastically once more. You swear, you feel like you have to stop him before a spring pops out of his neck. 

“Ooh! We should turn the canvases like this!” Luke tilts both canvases so they’re landscape and would look better one on top of the other.

“Very smart,” you praise. 

Luke appraises his canvas and decides where to start painting the bottom of his ship, when his eyes glance over to your blank canvas and he’s struck with an idea.

“You should make the mermaid look like Eliza! Not like…a baby, but with her color hair and eyes. And maybe a pink tail since she loves pink!”

You chuckle, eyes crinkling in the corner as you nod your head in agreement. “I can’t think of anyone who would make a more magical mermaid than your sister,” you say.

“You would,” Luke says casually as he dips his brush in some coppery-taupe paint. 

Warmth fills your body and your hand stalls on its way to grab a brush at his compliment. You make a mental note to ruffle his curls up later when your hands are clean and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Like The Little Mermaid?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Luke says, brush stroking from side to side to paint the broad side of the ship. “But, like, the Disney one, not the Brother’s Grimm one where she doesn’t break the spell in time and turns into seafoam.”

Your giggle was pink, the same shade that you’d chosen for your mermaid’s tail.

Conversation flows and ebbs easily between the two of you as the ninety-minute class ticks by—it’s always easy and never boring with Luke around. Occasionally, you ask one another for advice on your paintings or ask how something is coming along. Once the instructor announces that time is up, you and Luke clean up your area while the teacher goes from table to table, taking pictures of the mothers and children with their paintings.

When she gets to you, you squat down so that you can hold your mermaid below Luke’s pirate ship. The ten-year-old holds his painting below his chin, giving the camera a proud smile, while you’re out to the side of the paintings, also sporting a proud smile. But your pride isn’t in your artwork—it’s in having Luke as your son.

When the two of you get back home, Luke eagerly shows off your paintings and Polaroid to Eddie, who, of course, loves them. The photo immediately goes on the fridge, held up by Luke’s favorite Shrek magnet, and the paintings are set on the entertainment unit until you and Luke can find a good place to hang them. 

“Someone says she just woke up from her nap and is ready to hang out with Mommy,” Eddie sing-songs as he walks into the living room from the hall, where he was picking up the little Liza Bean from her nap time. Your favorite part, though, is that Eliza is wearing a white onesie that says “I 💜 Mommy.”

“Well, look at you!” you say, gleefully accepting your daughter from your husband. “And I heart Eliza! Mwah!”

“She’s got a surprise for you, too,” Eddie says.

You cock an eyebrow at your husband. “Oh, really? If it’s in her diaper I’m handing her back to you.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“No, not in her diaper. But it is in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” you question. 

Eliza babbles as if she’s asking about the location as well.

“What are you asking for?” Eddie teases Eliza. “You know what it is.”

After a small boop to Eliza’s nose, Eddie slips his hand into yours and leads you into the master bathroom. Products in an array of colors are laid out on the counter and there’s a radio with a CD player tucked into the corner.

“What’s all this?” you ask, taking everything before you in. 

Eddie casually strolls over to the counter and begins to present the different items as if he’s Vanna White.

“Hair mask for Mom, baby oil for Eliza’s hair,” he begins. “Oh, don’t worry, before you ask, Eliza and I got help from the people at the store who actually knew what they were talking about. Right, baby girl? Right. Okay, so. Next, face mask for Mom, oatmeal lotion for Eliza’s face. Then, as you can see, you have a variety of scents to choose from for your luxurious bubble bath. And body lotion for Mom, and more baby oil for Eliza.”

You’re overwhelmed by everything Eddie prepared and look down at your daughter in your arms, smiling up at you with her single tooth proudly on display in her lower gums. You’re overcome with how adorable she is and need to nuzzle your face against hers.

“Are we having a Mommy and Eliza spa afternoon?”

“All her idea,” Eddie says, holding up his hands in front of him. 

With a chuckle, you step forward and press a soft, slow kiss to your husband’s lips.

“This is absolutely the sweetest thing ever,” you whisper against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love. You deserve some relaxation. Thought this would be some nice time for my girls.” Eddie’s eyes go back and forth from you to Eliza, Eliza to you, and the pure love that shines through his gaze is enough to get you tearing up again. 

“Isn’t Daddy the best?” you ask Eliza, who is too busy looking at everything laid out on the counter.

“I think she just wants to get to it,” Eddie says. “I’ll leave you girls to your spa.”

On his way towards the bathroom door, Eddie presses play and the CD in the player begins playing instrumental, lullaby covers of popular songs that you had purchased for Eliza. 

It makes you laugh, and Eddie gives you a wink, about to head out the door, but he stops short.

“Oh! One more thing.”

He steps back in and closes the door to reveal two lavender bathrobes hanging on the back, one that has “Mommy” embroidered on the back and one that says “Eliza.”

“Eddie!” You say his name with a gasp. “Oh my God, they’re so pretty.”

“Gotta keep my girls comfy even when they come out of the spa,” he says with another wink. “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

Once Eddie is gone and has shut the door behind him, you take a deep breath, wondering where to begin.

“Let’s see,” you say to Eliza. “What scented bubble bath should we use?”

Using one arm to grab all five different options, you lower yourself to the cold tile floor below and let Eliza rest between your spread legs. She leans against you and immediately picks up one of the bottles.

“Wanna try this one first? Okay. Let’s see, this is vanilla scented.” You unscrew the cap and take a sniff. It’s a faint smell, but it’s nice. When you offer it for Eliza to smell, she’s clearly unimpressed as she doesn’t even spare the bottle a second glance. “We’ll call that a maybe.” You set that one to the side and grab another bottle. Rose Water. The scent isn’t bad to you, but it immediately makes little Eliza sneeze. That one gets pushed farther away as you giggle at how adorable your little girl’s sneezes are. The third option is Cherry Blossoms and by the way Eliza wanted to take this bottle from your hands, you’d say she liked it. A definite contender since you enjoyed it as well. Tropical Mango is a hit with Eliza, not so much with you, and Citrus smelled nice and clean but Eliza wrinkled up her nose more than you’ve ever seen her do before. Cherry Blossoms it is.

You let Eliza stay seated on the floor and push the other bottles around while you get up to run the bath water and add the bubbles. Next up, adding the baby oil to Eliza’s hair proves amusing because she keeps trying to roll her eyeballs up high enough to see what you’re doing. It’s impossible not to giggle and you press a kiss to her nose. 

“Silly girl.”

Adding your own hair mask is much simpler, but Eliza still studies you, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through her little mind as she watches you now—never mind what goes on in your house on a day-to-day basis. 

“You ready for the water?” 

Carefully, you step into the tub—making sure both facemasks are within reach—and lower both you and Eliza into the warm water and bubbles. 

The seven-month-old clearly isn’t sure how she feels about sitting in the water at first, but once she realizes you’re sitting in there with her and it’s warm, she likes it. Slowly, she begins to get a little more adventurous and starts to make small splashes. These amuse her greatly until the bubbles start growing higher; then she seems a little concerned by them. All it takes is you scooping some up in your hand and blowing on them so they scatter and fly around to catch the baby’s attention again. She sits facing you and you gather enough suds to give her a bubble beard. This tickles her both literally and figuratively because she can’t stop laughing once it’s on her. 

The sound is pure joy and so infectious. You laugh with her, silently wishing she could always be this happy. 

The song on the CD changes to the instrumental, lullaby version of You’re My Best Friend by Queen. 

“I love this song,” you tell her. 

“Ooh, you make me live

Whatever this world can give to me

It’s you, you’re all I see

Ooh, you make me live now, honey

Ooh, you make me live.”

Eliza is mesmerized by your singing, and it makes you chuckle. She rests her head against your chest but the oil in her hair has her head slipping around, making you laugh even more. 

With a sigh, you sink a little further into the water to relax.

“When you’re old enough to head bang,” you say, “I’ll teach you Bohemian Rhapsody. But fair warning, once you can head bang your dad is gonna make you do it to his music all the time.”

After you’ve soaked for a bit and both your and Eliza’s fingers are pruny, you reach over the side of the tub and grab the face mask and oatmeal lotion. First you apply Eliza’s and you’re surprised at how still she sits and lets you rub it around her face. Maybe it feels nice to her, just like a facial should. As you apply the mask to your skin, Eliza starts to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask her.

Her ferocious giggles continue, and you realize she must be laughing at how you look because she looks silly even in her little oatmeal mask. The two of you laugh and you have to hold Eliza steady because even though she’s getting very good at sitting up on her own now, she’s laughing so hard that she keeps almost falling over. 

Taking a washcloth, you first gently take off Eliza’s mask and then your own. Though her giggles have subsided, Eliza looks up at you with a smile on her lips and a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. 

“This isn’t my first Mother’s Day,” you tell her, voice soft at first, “but it’s my first one with a baby. My little Sweet Pea. You and your brothers—and your dad—made this such a wonderful day. I’m so lucky to have you all. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. I’d like to think you chose me, anyway.”

The little girl puckers her lips and makes a smacking sound as if she blew you a kiss.

“Right back atcha, kid.”

As soon as you get both of your hairs rinsed out, all you can think about is the soft plush bathrobe that’s awaiting you. But first, lotion. As you apply yours to your body, Eliza watches the water go down the drain of the tub with complete fascination. She peeks over the side of the tub, mesmerized with the whirlpool collecting near the pulled plug. 

“Ready to be moisturized?” you ask her once all the water has disappeared. “Want that baby smooth skin?” Your own joke makes you laugh as you pop the top on the baby oil.

Eliza isn’t used to the sensation of having something slick on her skin. The slightly furrowed brow and the way she keeps running her hands lightly over her arms tells you she isn’t sure how she feels about it. 

The time has now come for the bathrobes. The mini one comes off its hook first. It’s a little difficult to maneuver her body into the robe, but you soon get it situated on her and tie the fuzzy belt at her waist. She is a purple marshmallow, and the cuteness threatens to make your heart burst. A pleasurable sigh hums through you as you slip into your own robe. The way it feels like you’re wearing a pillow and cuddled up cozy but not constricted or overheated has you daydreaming about wearing this every single day. 

“Come on you,” you say, picking up your fashion twin. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Footsteps approach the living room and Eddie turns his head from the television to see you and Eliza making your entrance. A laugh of amusement falls from your husband’s lips.

“Look at my girls! A vision in purple!”

You walk around the couch and sit down on his lap, holding Eliza on your own.

“Tell Daddy that we had a nice relaxing time.”

“Good,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your cheek. A strong hand rubs up and down your back and it relaxes you even further. 

“Where are the boys?” you ask, voice sounding slightly distant as his touch lulls your body practically pliant.

“In the kitchen,” Eddie says, “going over the takeout menu for the Chinese place a few blocks over. So we’ll probably see them in an hour or two.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you snuggle up against your husband, your baby cocooned between you.

“I love Chinese food.”

“That’s why we’re getting it, princess. It’s your day,” Eddie tells you before looking down at your daughter. “Right, Liza?”

Eliza simply blinks at him in response and buries her face in the soft fabric of your robe.

“Oh,” Eddie says as a thought resurfaces in his mind. He looks over the back of the couch to make sure neither of the boys are coming. “I have to tell you what Luke said. And, well, Ryan too.”

“What is it?”

Eddie’s smile is one filled with happiness and pride and it’s making you all the more curious. 

“When you were in the bathroom—excuse me, I mean spa—Luke was telling us about the art class and how much fun it was. Then he kind of pauses and says, ‘You know…no, never mind. It will sound stupid.’ But I was like, come on, what’s on your mind, kid? And he goes, ‘I’ve always known how much Ryan and I are loved by everyone; our family. But I guess seeing how we’re treated the same way…’ And then he trailed off and sighed, and I think he couldn’t figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. But I guess Ryan knew where he was going because he took over. He says, “We’re not treated any differently than Eliza. We’re all…’ Then he trailed off, but I caught where they were going then. So, I said, ‘You’re all her kids. Each one of you three is just as much her child as the other two. There’s no difference.’”

Tears flood your eyes but you’re not entirely sure what emotion is provoking them.

“They thought—” your voice cracks and you can’t continue.

“No, no, hey,” Eddie reassures you. “Both of them said it was something they never thought about. Not even after Eliza was born. But I guess a kid in Luke’s class or something says his stepdad doesn’t treat him like his son and Luke thought that was crazy. All he’s known since he was five is you loving him as if he’s your own. Because he is your son. Then I guess Luke talked to Ryan about it and they thought back and couldn’t think of a time where you treated Eliza as more important than them. I think it was an emotional revelation. One that they don’t take lightly. They know that they’re your babies, too. God, I wish you could’ve seen the looks on their faces when we were talking about this. Just the pride they have that you’re their mom. That you chose them and love them as fiercely and deeply as possible. Sweetheart, the only thing that was my idea today was the spa with Eliza. Everything with the boys? That all came from them. I hope you know how much they love you.”

“I do,” you admit with a sniffly smile, cheeks completely stained with tear tracks. “They chose me too. They’re my sons.”

Eliza looks up at you and babbles and coos, clearly wanting to be part of this conversation. 

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her insistence and Eddie takes the opportunity to wipe your face. 

“And you’re my daughter,” you say to Eliza. 

“No denying that with how much you look like Mommy, huh?” Eddie says, running the back of his forefinger down Eliza’s soft, chubby cheek. 

“Hey!” Luke says as the boys come back into the room, Ryan holding the takeout menu in his hand. “Why didn’t we get matching robes too?”

“The color clashes with your skin,” Eddie quips.

“I’d like to be included in these things is all I’m saying,” Luke says as he sits on the couch perpendicular to the one you’re on.

Ryan perches on the arm of the couch you’re on and opens the menu.

“We figured out what we want,” Ryan says, offering the menu to Eddie. “We circled them.”

“In red pen,” Luke adds. “The blue pen is from the last time we ordered.”

“Red pen,” Eddie repeats. “Got it.” 

Reluctantly, you slip off of his lap so he can go call and make the order. Truthfully, you’d rather stay curled up in your husband’s lap, forget the Chinese food, and survive on Eddie’s cuddles alone.

“Want your usual, babe?” Eddie asks you.

“Yes please.”

The sound of footsteps fades the closer Eddie gets to the kitchen. You wave both of the boys over to come sit with you.

“Boys,” you stage whisper.

They come over, Luke plopping down on your left side and Ryan hunkering down on your right. Gently, you tuck Eliza between your and Ryan’s bodies before you wrap an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders and pull them in for a hug.

“Thank you for—oh, yes, Eliza you’re included in this too,” you say when Eliza harrumphs at you. “Thank you for the most amazing Mother’s Day. This was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

“In your whole life?” Luke asks.

“In my whole life,” you affirm. “And thank you all for making me a mom. It’s the hardest but coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Being your kid is pretty cool, too,” Luke says. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Eliza knows that as soon as she understands words.”

With a tired but content smile, you lean back against the cushions on the couch and immediately feel little hands and knees digging into various parts of your body as Eliza climbs up your body and makes herself comfortable, her clean head and hair coming to rest on your chest. From the position you were in when you hugged the boys, your arms are still stiff and wide open, and Luke is the first to take advantage of that.

He tucks himself into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. Ryan copies his actions (instead of the other way around for a change) and leans against your right side, careful of Eliza’s tiny head that is so close to his. 

For a few moments you just sit there, thinking. Enjoying this time, with all three of your children in your arms. You close your eyes and savor it, just you and your babies in this moment.

Eddie strolls back in from the kitchen.

“Food is on its way—oh. Well, don’t we all look comfortable?” Eddie smiles as his gaze roams over the couch, taking in every detail of the four of you. His oldest babies who helped get him through one of the worst periods of his life. You, the great love of his life who saved him in every possible way. And the small baby girl that the two of you created together. 

You tilt your head and rest it against Luke’s, looking up at Eddie with a soft smile. 

His eyes meet yours and no words need to be said. Everything you need to express to one another is in that look. The love, the happiness, the gratefulness. Both of you realize the million and one things that had to line up just right for this moment to be a reality. It’s exciting to think about what the choices that were made today will lead you to in your future together. Only time will tell—and right now? This particular moment is one you’d like to pause. Maybe pause it until you can wring every moment of blissfulness from it that you possibly can. But you already know that would be impossible—the joy in this moment is endless.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Au where it was all a ✨dream✨

A collective dream specifically, sorta....

Okay, we're dropped in a scene Shen Yuan is dying. He sacrificed himself to save Binghe from idk a demon attack or something. But he's Shen Qingqiu's husband because there was a previous courtship full of drama, misunderstandings, and eventually love.

So he's being held by Shen Jiu, and as Shen Yuan finally drops. The system pulls up for everyone saying something about how they had completed an exercise, before anyone can even blink all plot relevant characters just drop to the floor.

Anyway PIDW isn't important anymore, let's go to the modern world.

Shen Jiu wakes up in a hospital bed, his memories rushing back. He's... A historian— no, a modern day scholar?... he's renowned for his research papers... Ugh, the voices.

Shen Jiu is told he was in a plane crash that had hospitalized most of its passengers, which is better than the alternative. He asks if there's a Shen Yuan in the hospital, the nurse hesitates and asks why. Shen Jiu got that Shen Yuan is in the hospital but is probably either in bad condition or his family isn't allowed the staff to talk about him.

Shen Jiu says that they're married. The nurse hesitates and then says he is and he's doing worse than before and is in critical condition. Shen Jiu is left to stew over the information.

He is forced to go into physical therapy and all that stuff. He meets the other passengers and can clock each of them. From his Qi-ge to Mobei Jun. It was strange, to see them like normal people when he has a memory of them being greater than that.

They all talk and Shen Jiu takes note of their professions and connections. Once he recovers, he tries to visit Shen Yuan and is told he needs a proof of marriage.

And Shen Jiu being the spiteful and conniving motherfucker he is uses his recently made connections to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss some legalized falsified documents of his and Shen Yuan's marriage, which was a year before the plane crash and their anniversary landed on the day of the crash. How unfortunate truly :,( (he totally didn't pick that day because that was the day they met so in his brain that was they day that led them to be together or anything)

So he shows the documents and then visits Shen Yuan each time he can. He does try to avoid his family and got good at remembering their schedules of visits. He always keeps his hand over Shen Yuan's chest, just so he can feel his heart beat so he knows he's still alive aside from the mechanical beep of the heart monitor.

The day Shen Yuan wakes up, it was during one of Shen Jiu's visits. He wakes up with Shen Jiu . He's still half delirious and still mixing things from his coma "dream" and real life. So he says:

"My husband will get upset if he sees you touching me like that on my chest."

Shen Jiu is amused and puts Shen Yuan's glasses on his face softly and says that he is his husband. Shen Yuan stares at his demure beauty of a husband, mouth agape. The heart monitor picks up and he just says "sup" which confirms to Shen Jiu that he is still the nerdy man he fell in love with.

Shen Jiu tells him they've been married two year by now and kisses his forehead. A nurse bursts in to make sure no one is like y'know dying and sees that Shen Yuan is up. She is shocked because for all intents and purposes he shouldn't have woken up yet. She shoos Shen Jiu away and tells him to wait outside.

The Shens are notified and they finally meet Shen Jiu. He manages to gaslight and charm his parents and siblings. He convinces them that Shen Yuan totally mentioned him and they were totally going to meet if not for the plane crashing. (Shen Jiu remembered when Shen Yuan and him were talking in the plane that he mentioned that he was visiting family. Shen Jiu was flying to speak in a convention or something but they don't need to know that.)

Once Shen Yuan fully awake, his family start worrying over him and then ask why he didn't tell them he was married. Shen Yuan, who did realize his husband was lying is going along with it, said he was going to but things (the plane crash) got in the way.

Anyway new Shen in the family. He probably likes Shen Yuan's little sister and mom.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Nine

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky and Bob have a heart-to-heart after his accident

WC: 1.7K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were officially in your second trimester. Twelve weeks. 

You stood in the mirror, holding your hands against your lower stomach. There was a definitive bulge. More than gas or constipation or a food baby. 

A real baby. 

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice floated through the apartment. “I’m home.” 

“One sec,” you called out, pulling your loose shirt back down. You didn’t want him to see it. Even though the secret was out, you still felt like it was just for you to know it was there. In the kitchen, Jake set down a pizza and a bag of groceries. 

“I got dinner.” 

“I’m starving,” you replied, sitting down on a chair at the table and flinging the box open. “Hell yes.” 

He chuckled, leaning back against the cabinets, green eyes watching you greedily as you pulled a cheesy slice out, savoring it on your tongue. “That baby is going to be thirty pounds and twenty of it is going to be cheese.” 

“Shut up,” you replied between mouthfuls. “It’s your fault if they’re enormous. Isn’t that the man’s genes or something?” 

“I see you’re reading the pregnancy books.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Like you are.” 

“Actually, I am.” You looked up, squinting. Jake shrugged. “What? Not much to do during training when we’re waiting for a group to do their test flight.” 

“So you’re telling me Mr. Pilot sits around and reads What To Expect When You’re Expecting between top secret dangerous missions?” 

Jake took a seat across the table and yanked on a slice of pizza. “Pretty much.” 

“You’re not what I expected,” you replied sincerely. 

His eyes landed on yours. “You’re better than I expected.” 

A silence enveloped the room. “Jake—”

Your cell phone buzzed on the table. 

“Hello?” You listened intently for a moment, eyes widening. Jake’s gaze never left yours. “Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the phone away. 

“What is it?” he asked. “Y/N? Is everything OK?” 

“It’s Bob,” you murmured. “He’s awake.” 

***

Anxiety — heavy and damp — sat in your chest, curled around your stomach, clenching your insides. You took a deep, quivering breath, and pushed the door open. 

Bobby looked up, squinting from behind his large frames. He looked thinner, the effects of being in a coma for almost five days. 

Quietly, you stepped closer. “Hi.” 

“Hi Ducky.” 

You choked back a sob. “How are you?” 

“Terrible,” he replied and you frowned, looking over at the monitors. But nothing was beeping or going insane. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Bob shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. I just messed up.” 

“Phoenix said there was nothing that could have been done differently. That there wasn’t even time to think.” 

He shook his head and grimaced. “Not about that. I don’t care about that. I messed up with you. With us.” 

“Oh.” Your voice trembled. “Bobby, I—”

“I love you, Ducky,” he said and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. “And I fucked it all up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s OK.” 

“It’s not,” Bob said. There was an exhaustion in his voice. “You needed me. And I did the opposite of what I should have. I spent my whole life trying to be a good brother. And the second you really, truly needed me, I pushed you away.” 

“You were mad at me,” you whispered. “I messed up everything you did to get me where I was supposed to go. I get it.” 

Bob shook his head. “It’s not my job to tell you what to do with your life, Y/N.”

“You’re just realizing that?” 

He smiled softly. “I’m a little behind.” Bob paused. “Will you forgive me?” 

“Always.” 

Bob reached out a hand and you took it. How many times had you held Bob’s hand in yours? You could count very few times when you were the one taking care of him. You reached down and pulled the hem of your shirt up, exposing your bare stomach. Bob’s eyes went wide as you pressed his flat palm against your warm skin. He could feel the raised curve of your expanding belly. 

“Promise me something, Bobby,” you whispered. He nodded. “You don’t leave us again.” 

Tears flooded his eyes and you pressed down against his hand, the two of you covering the bump with your intertwined fingertips as he sobbed. After a moment, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. Bob’s fingers gripped you, hard, holding you so tight you thought he might never let you go. “I promise, Ducky,” he whispered into your ear. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Bobby.” 

***

You had an armful of books, leaning against the front door trying to undo the lock when it swung open unexpectedly and you tumbled inside. A pair of warm arms caught you midair. “Woah!” 

Jake pushed you to an upright position, one of his hands resting on your low back, the other pressed against your arm. “What are you doing carrying all of those?” he demanded, taking the books out of your hands and putting them down on the table. 

You rolled your eyes. “I work at a library, Jake. Don’t you think I carry around books all day?” 

“Guess I never thought about it,” he said. “But I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to pretend to be worried about me,” you huffed. 

“Who said I’m pretending?” 

The air in the room froze. You looked up at Jake. He had obviously gotten home only minutes before you because he was still wearing his flight suit, hair tousled and sweaty, some pieces matted to his forehead. It was unfair how good he looked when you were wearing practically a potato sack, the only thing that didn’t tug against your expanding stomach. You shook your head and put your tote bag down on the ground, whirling around to face him. “I think there’s some stuff we didn’t talk about when we moved in because of everything that was going on. So maybe we need to have that conversation.” 

Jake nodded and you two took a seat on the couch. God, the cushions felt good against your screaming back. How the hell you were going to do six more months of this you weren’t sure. “Alright, darlin’, I’m listening.” 

“That,” you said, raising a finger and he frowned. “Cute pet names.” 

“I can’t call you pet names?” 

“We’re roommates, Jake. Nothing more.” 

“You’re carrying my child.” His voice tipped as he said that last word. “You’re more than a roommate and we both know it.” 

“I’m just a girl who lives in the guest room,” you whispered. 

“Is that what you want?” 

You nodded. “I want you to live your life like you would normally. Date, even.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to date?” 

“Sure.” 

Jake squinted. “Are you going to date?” 

“Nobody wants me,” you replied and his face fell. “A pregnant twenty-three-year-old? Yeah, no, not the hottest commodity on the market.” 

“But if someone asked you?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” 

Jake’s green eyes, normally so luminous, darkened. He nodded tightly. “Got it.” 

“You should feel free to date whoever you want,” you replied. “Phoenix, maybe.” 

“Nat? Seriously?” 

“Don’t act like you haven’t been there done that.” 

His eyebrows shot up. “She told you?” 

“Yup. Really get around, don’t you?” 

“Could say the same about you.” He looked up as the realization of what he had said crossed his mind. For a moment, the room was silent. Then you laughed, and so did Jake. 

“Fuck you,” you said, chuckling. “You’re a dick.” 

“It’s my unique draw.” 

“Well your pregnant roommate isn’t going to be much of a chick magnet,” you replied, standing up. “So I would go to the girl’s house, if given the option. I’ll do the same.” 

“Are you really going to fuck random guys?” Jake asked as you made your way toward the hallway and bedroom.

You turned. “I fucked you, didn’t I?” 

***

“Be careful you idiot!” 

Bob shot you a dirty look. “Aren’t moms supposed to be nice?” 

“Not a mom yet,” you replied, hands resting on your stomach for a moment before you slapped a hot cheeto out of his hand. “Doctor said whole foods.” 

He groaned. “Can I have Hangman stay with me instead? He might actually be a better alternative.” 

“You’re stuck with me for another day,” you said, leaning back onto the couch. Bob sat in a reclining chair across from you. 

“Ducky?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You scared?” 

“Terrified.” 

“I don’t know what’s crazier. That my little sister is going to be someone’s mom. Or that I’m going to be Uncle Bobby.” 

“Uncle Bobby,” you repeated. It sounded strangely familiar on your tongue. “It fits though.” 

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asked. 

You frowned. “Think this was the longest I’ve ever stayed mad at you in my life. Except maybe the time you donated my pony collection.” 

“I couldn’t have a horse girl for a sister,” he replied. “Besides, you were fifteen.” 

“Was not!” 

“Yes you were, because it was the same year I punched Mike Turner for kissing you on the front porch.” 

“God, that feels like ages ago.” 

“You were just a kid,” Bob replied softly. “You’re still a kid to me.” 

“I’m an adult, Bobby,” you whispered. “More adult than you.” 

“Hey!” 

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” 

Bob blushed. “No time, Ducky.”

“I’ve heard stories from the team.” You raised your eyebrow. “Apparently you’re a hot commodity at the bar.” 

“Don’t listen to anything Bradshaw says.” 

“Jake said it, too.”

“Really don’t listen to anything Hangman says.” 

“Are you happy, Bobby?” 

He frowned. “Does being in a relationship automatically make you happy?” 

“No,” you sighed. “But it’s better than being alone.” 

“You’re not alone, Ducky,” Bob said quietly. “You have me. And Jake, unfortunately.” 

You leaned back against the couch. “Yeah. I have you. And Jake.” 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away

[swagging-back-to]

That being said: light was 1111000000% in the right and L was 60% in the wrong

Sometimes I wish we could enforce a rule that you have to have seen or read Death Note within the last three years before you make grand sweeping posts about its morality in posts with hundreds of notes

[renranram]

i CANT stop thinking about the idea of a schlatt x camgirl reader fic

Pose for the fans

nsfw

fem!reader x loser loner pathetic schlatt

reader is a cam girl whilst schlatt is her biggest donator and fan!!

you gasps, " oh my god! user jnschlt thank you for your donation! " you clasp your hand together, " 'hi baby, here's some 500, can you lift your skirt up and show us how pretty you are? ' " the tts reads out

you giggles softly, " am i really that pretty? " you twirl your hair with your fingers as you sit on your knees, slowly, teasingly pulling up your skirt to reveal a lacey pink panties

the live chat immediately went into shambles, spamming compliments whilst schlatt, chuckles, amused, his hands already on his pants, before typing on his keyboard, ' baby, how many more to get that dildo on your pretty pink pussy hm? ' he donates as you read it

" hm.. eager aren't we? " you tease your viewers before gently picking up the pink dildo, showing it off to the camera, " i think we're too fast to be in there " she giggles softly

as you spread your legs, moving your panties to the side to reveal, your already wet and hot pussy, " is this what you guys want? " you flaunt your pussy as the chat speeds up

" fuck.. " schlatt groans out, chuckling in amusement as he slowly palms himself, " dumb fucking whore " he moans out, sending another donation

' jnschlt sent 1000, put a show on us baby ' the tts reads out as you gasp, " jnschlt! oh my god you're really spoiling me "

" you want a show huh? then ill give you a show " your lips form into a cheeky smile, and with a teasingly slow pace, you take off your panties, your hands playing with your folds

meanwhile schlatt lifts up his shirt and lowers his pants, his eyes stuck to the screen as if he was hypnotized, you rub yourself, moaning in pleasure, " you enjoying the show? "

the chat spams yes, ranging from compliments, degrades, and slurs, " ah fuck " you throws your head back as you plays with your own buds, you hand slowly squeezing your breasts

schlatt groans out, impatient, but he continues to admire your body, his eyes eye fucking the girl on his monitor

he pushes his head back as he leans his back on his seat, for a loser who has nothing to do with his life schlatt found a new obsession on some random camgirl on a random site he saw

you continue to rub your clit as you bite your lip, " shit... ", spreading your legs more to show your wet juices on your pussy as schlatt fasten his pace, grabbing a nearby lube to lube up his dick

after playing with your pussy, you enter a finger as you moan out softly, as schlatt groans, ' jnschlt donated 5000, baby, i dont have the time for this, please ' you gasp

chuckling, thinking how pathetic he is before shrugging, " fineee, you're so impatient " you giggle softly, grabbing the dildo

teasing your hole by slapping the pink silicone on your already sensitive clit, as you moan out, pushing the tip slowly, just to tease her viewers too

" what a fucking whore jesus fucking christ " schlatt smiles, he fastens his pace as you gasp, finally entering the entire size in your pussy

" oh my god, fuck.. i forgot this is like.. 7 inches or something " you chuckle, as you continue to thrust in and out the dildo, replying back with a moan

" fuck.. exactly my size " schlatt mumbles, shifting on his seat as he continues to jerk himself off

" ngh fuck.. it feels so good " you moan out, as you maintain eye contact with the camera, " it feels so good daddies "

" feels really fucking good.. i feel so fucking- ah.. full " you continue, " fuck.. holy shit.. " schlatt moans back, fisting his dick with the palm of his hands

" what a fucking whore, fucking bitch.. fuck.. im gonna.. im gonna fucking shove my cock on your pussy when i see you.. " he mutters, as his adrenaline hits and yours too as you fasten your thrusts, moaning and whimpering

" ah ah ah oh my god " you moans out, rolling your eyes back in pleasure, braindead from all the pleasure and adrenaline your getting

" fuck... what a fucking slut.. fucking cum slut.. " schlatt groans out, as his precum leaks on his tip, grabbing more lube so he can lube himself up

" ah shit- i-im fucking cumming " you stammer, feeling a hot pool on your stomach as you bite your lip, " fuck.. im cumming too " schlatt mutters, acting as if he's talking to you

you continue to thrust in the silicone in your sensitive and sore pussy, fucking your brains out as schlatt's movements follow your thrusts

and after a few thrusts, you came, shaking in pleasure as you squirt out your juices while schlatt came too, his semen on his monitor, covering your panting figure

[futureplayboibunnie]

Mistakes

Miguel O’Hara x spidey!fem! reader

Will Miguel let you in?

Miguel angst is MY thing fr, this is another self serve fic tbh. GOD i love this one, he’s so damaged and broken like fr we can fix him. I’ll probably do a part 2 bc writing this had be squealling

it’s been a hot minute. i’m on holiday for a month and i genuinely used my phone for this one. giggles

Miguel honestly felt like a ghost story as of late. He had been hiding out in his mancave a lot longer than what was deemed usual by the others and no one really had the incentive to find out what the hell he was doing and why the hell he wasn’t leaving.

More like no one wanted to have their spinal chord ripped out and dangling in front of them.

Miguel was as complicated as ever, his aggression seemed to be boundless and his drive a never ending abundance of determination. Though he was admirable as a leader, he was almost impossible to see through. It was his knack. His ge ne sais quois. He was a calloused man, haunted by demons he couldn’t escape- not because he wanted to, but because he would lose the last memory he had when he was genuinely happy. And that was with his daughter. Who he lost. Who he was responsible for losing. It had been almost a month since anyone had seen him. It was most definitely a period of self isolation for him, but it had been too long for the other spiders without a leader. They needed him, so did you.

It was bothering you now, what the hell was he up to? Did brooding really cost this much time? It seemed either ridiculous or…unsettling. You didn’t know which one you prefered. Day after day or constant wondering sent your mind spinning frok fraction to fraction: all you could do was wonder, be slightly irritated and…concerned about him all at once. Miguel was always on time, always prepared and valued hypervigilance and attentiveness…so why wasn’t he following his own moral code?

You told Gwen that you should check on him to make sure he was still fucking alive. She heavily disagreed with the idea but even Jess didn’t know what had gotten into him. Unlucky for them, they didn’t know the secret spot into his lair you find the first day of getting into the Society. The tour of HQ was quite enlightening, the amount of hidey holes were insane. Your heart was racing at the idea of visiting him unannounced, but you hated this and it was getting frustrating. Hell, you weren’t scared of him and you made it very known to him.

You decided to go late at night when no one else was at HQ. Jesus, if he was still here at 3 in the morning then he really was reeling… and no-one was there to pull him back from the unending void. Miguel’s hidey hole was on his ceiling so you quite literally had crawl through his vents which was very humbling and quite a blow to your blossoming ego. After that embarrassment, you were irked and already impatient. He better have a damn good reason for being like this.

Your crawled out of the vent at let your adhesive fingers crawl around the shadows of his cool, airy lair. Your eyes scanned around, it seemed void of any personality, no personal effects or anythint tying him back to his humanity. It wasn’t surprising but…saddening. You crawled further down the wall to get a closer look. It was a mess: broken tech, metal pieces, vials and serums stewn over the floor like it was just collected dust that just happened to land there. You tilted your head even more- there were weights and water bottles everywhere, he must have been extensively working out…or physically pushing himself as punishment. What really caught onto you though was the many monitors that were indented with a fist…his fist. Your mood soured at the latter. Turning your head to his platform, you finally found him, standing snd staring at his orange screens blankly, breathing heavily. His back tense and his gaze weary as he watched the last good memory he had with his daughter play out on his screen. In this light you could see the illumination on his cheeks. He’d been crying. The thought alone made you freeze. The portrait of the Miguel you knew was crumbling between your fingers, as you glanced at the screen you saw him happy, smiling. You weren’t sure if he’s done that ever since then.

You crawled out of the shadows, inching further and further down the wall next to the platform, wanting to make your presence known. When was the last time anyone comforted this man? When was the last time he wasn’t filled with grief and anger?

“Miguel?” You say softly as not to startle him, but with his lack of Spider senses he definitely was startled. He jumped and grabbed a broken monitor and threw it at you, it didn’t take much to dodge him but a look of concern painted your face.

“H-How did you get in?” He bellowed but you just hopped off the wall and onto his platform, not giving him the time of day to adjust himself to the fright you have him.

He definitely was working out again, he was bigger since you last saw him…but face to face, he seemed so deliriously exhausted.

“That’s not important right now.” You responded nonchalantly but oddly seriously at the same time.

“Why are you here?” Miguel eyes were gleaming red, he had a particularly awful few days, weeks, he didn’t need to see the horror of another face seeing who he really was. His nostrils flared as you acted so careless, who the hell did you think you were?

Your back leaned against his desk as you paused for a moment, not sure if you wanted to be truthful or not. “I wanted to see you.” You say sincerely and Miguel shot you a perplexed look. No one saw him for the sole purpose of just seeing him, not that he can recall anyways. “You aren’t the easiest person to get a hold of right now.” You raised your eyebrow at him.

“I don’t want to be.” He grunted truthfully, averting his gaze away from you before turning into the snarky Spiderman he’s known to be. “But yeah, adorable. Really, really interesting, very cute. I was going to say fuck off and leave instead but yes, this is worth my time.” He bit back sarcastically. Anger was running through your veins at his response. God, he was such an ass sometime and he needed to know but instead you did the thing you were sure to regret later: being kind to him when he was like this. You took a deep breath to regain a cool and sentient composure.

“Look, I know you’re going through a lot right now so I’m going to disregard that.”

“I don’t want you here.” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose and fell back into his chair, completely finished with all of this.

“Well tough shit.” You glared at him, sighing and then offering a sympathetic smile.

Miguel didn’t say anything, he knew a battle with you would pour salt into the wound and prove to be fruitless. So you both sat in silence and observing each other’s purpose. The tension between you both was palpable, so you decided to test the risky waters.

“How old was Gabriella?” You say gently, giving him a trusting look. If only you could get him to open up, the panic and anxiety would start to decrease if he just talked about all of this to someone who cared about him. As much as you hated to admit it, you did.

Miguel’s face froze as you asked him that, he wasn’t sure whether to lunge at you or not by asking him such a thing. He was too tired to argue or fight, he didn’t have it in him anymore. He was breaking and he didn’t want it to be infront of you.

“Nine.” He mumbled, staring away from you as if he was ashamed. “When I lost her…she was nine.” A sliver of sadness fell through you at the sentiment. It’s a new feeling for Miguel, someone actually having the guts to ask him these things. His suspicious look starts to turn into a frown, a mixture of anger and sadness. He didn’t know what to feel.

“I know I don’t matter at all in this situation, but it’s not your fault and you deserve forgiveness.” You say sincerely, surprising both him and yourself.

Miguel felt like he had just seen a ghost, his heart felt slow as the cave of despair started to ache again, he felt like he was being suffocated. Forgiveness? He didn’t deserve any forgiveness. Not after the damage he had done. Not after the pain he inflicted. It clawed at his throat until his breath was perpetually scarce.

“Forgiveness…” He scoffed, completely dismissing the idea. “I don’t- I can’t take your forgiveness. I’m not worthy of it…” He trailed off, the lump in his throat becoming bigger and bigger.

“You work yourself too hard.” You mutter, inching closer to him, staring down at him you raise your hand reaching out for him but he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t pity me.” He grunted and gripped tighter but you snatched your hand away with a scowl.

“I’m not pitying you. You just…You look exhausted. When was the last time you went home? Jesus, when was the last time you slept?” You ask, genuinely curious. Miguel didn’t know how to answer the question without being slightly embarrassed.

“I have nothing there. I’m needed here.” His tone was clipped and all you could do was sigh.

“Miguel…please tell me, tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me so I can help you.” You say a little more firmly than intended but it definitely got the point across. “I want to help you if you let me.”

Miguel looks at you and sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. “My mind is filled with a never ending list of tasks to complete, a never ending list of dangers to face and battles to fight, a never ending list of problems to solve... I... I don't have much peace." He rubs at his temples. “But you've already seen that, I guess.... I'm not sure how you can help me with any of this." He sighed and winced slightly when he thought of Gabriella. “All I ever wanted was a family, to be happy. Meet a nice girl, have a few kids and settle down…but I love being Spiderman and I tampered with something I had no reason to be messing with. I can’t be both. I can’t have both. Shit as for love, I don’t think I can ever get close to another woman again. I can’t lose anyone else. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about love.”

You give him a small wry smile, your hands reach forward and tuck a small tuft of hair behind his ear. Miguel froze at the small gesture of kindess and tenderness, he hadn’t felt that in so long, he hated he way he was reacting to it. You didn’t know what else to do or say, you just knew what you wanted right now. You leaned down and engulfed him in a hug, your face resting on his shoulder and your arms slung around his neck. His eyes shot wide open at the sudden gesture. He was close enough to inhale your hair and feel your skin, he hugged you back and breathed in and out, finding a semblance of peace, a moment where his mind wasn’t filled with static noise and self loathing. Your scent was…sweet and completely intoxicating if he was being honest. ‘’Thank you…” He muttered into your shoulder.

You let go and stand up straight again, offering a hand so he can stand too. You were suprised that be took it and you were more surprised to feel that his hands were…soft. “Let me take you home. I’ll make you some tea, get you to relax, yeah?” You offer gently with a little smile, hoping he would let you do this for him.

Miguel's eyes widened at your suggestion and he stared at you with hope for a moment. “Why? Why are you doing all this?” he asked. He rarely spent time with anyone outside of work. Why would you even do any of this for him?

“Because you’ve done so much for everyone else and no one has ever taken care of you. God forbid someone wants to help you and all of a sudden theres this hidden agenda.”

The realisation dawned on him, when has he let anyone get close to him? Never. Now a pretty girl wanted to take care of him, listen to his problems and make him feel deserving of the forgiveness he dreamed of. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was a delusion or crazy dream or not but he was relieved to take in your sweet scent. Maybe you had an ulterior motive, the thought made him frown. He hated feeling vulnerable and showing any kind of vulnerability was out of the question.

“I’m not leaving you tonight. Okay?” You confirm sweetly, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He felt a strange sense of security, he felt…safe at the idea. “Come on.” You fiddled with your multiverse watch and opened a portal to his apartment, you grabbed onto his bicep and pulled him in, landing in the living room.

Jesus, it looked like it hasn’t even been lived in. Everything was clean, too clean. “Nice place.” You half joked and Miguel just shot you a smile that he was trying to conceal, it didn’t really work. Miguel felt his neck heat up, when people got to know him he was actually really shy. He sat himself on the edge of the couch, planting his elbows on his knees and raking his hands through his hair. His kitchen was walk in, expensive. As you were brewing his tea, you caught glimpses of his back, he really had been working out. You stop your mindless gawk and find his mugs and place a tea bag in two of them, you also search for his whiskey. As you poured the hot water, you splashed a little bit of whiskey. God knows he deserved it.

You walked around to couch and Miguel’s head shot up as you stood infront of him, offering him the mug. As you stood, he took an opportunity to really look at you. To survey and study you. You were…attractive, that he had no problem admitting but this…This was a new side of you he had never seen. You were showing him kindness when he didn’t even deserve it. Miguel winced slightly at the idea of letting another woman into his life, the last time that happened he lost everything, he was still weary of your intentions.

He grabbed the mug and you sat next to him, curling your feet up and facing him, gawking at him more like as you sipped your tea. This scene felt…very domestic. “Thank you…” He said, not showing any emotion, being stoic as expected.

“God stop thanking me. It’s the least I could do.” You said with a shy smile.

“It’s just…different. No one has really- Well, I haven’t been looking after myself.” He muttered

“When was the last time anyone looked out for you?” You ask, genuinely curious. He had the whole world at his feet, yet it was like he was lonely.

“Years ago, my brother Gabriel…I don’t really see him much…” It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he missed his brother, he hadn’t seen him in a while. While you were in the kitchen, you saw a frame of him and his brother when they were about teenagers, playing. It warmed your heart slightly to see that he did actually care.

“You can’t let the mistakes in your past define you. It’s not who you are. Bad people don’t worry about the pain they caused. You are good.” Miguel took a moment to ponder your words, averting his gaze and then turning his head to face you.

“No you’re good.” He said gently. “It’s like being good is all you know…I’ve lost myself beneath violence and blood and chaos-“ Miguel sighed as he put the mug down on the coffee table, losing his cool for a second.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his bicep and he shot you a startled yet curious look. “Do you trust me?”

Miguel paused, he didn’t trust people easily but after you so patiently listened to him and did all of this for him, he couldn’t say no to you. “Yeah…”

“Turn around.” Miguel did as he was told, a little confused at first, but his back was facing you. You brought your hands to his shoulders and kneaded his tense muscles. God, he was so rigid. It’s like he had never relaxed in his life. “These broad shoulders must be so exhausted.”

“Yeah…” Miguel closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of your fingers gently caressing him. Jesus, his body was coming undone with just a few touches. Your fingers pressed and massaged his sore muscles, travelling further and further down his back.

“Is this okay?” You whisper.

Miguel let out a deep sigh, his muscles loosening under your touch. “Yes...keep going please.” Miguel's voice was still quiet but clear, and he even let out a soft groan of relief.

You travel lower, caressing and massaging the pressure points of all his soreness. “God, there’s so many knots in your back…when was the last time anyone did this for you?” You question eagerly.

Miguel closed his eyes. “...never,” he replied, his voice slightly breathy. “No one has ever..." Miguel paused. “These days no one has ever cared enough or been allowed to be so...intimate with me.” He was caught off guard by what he said. He just screwed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. Your presence and your soft caresses calmed his mind to his very core and relaxed his body. You noticed that Miguel, who usually always carried himself with professionalism and control...was now like a deer in headlights, unable to comprehend your touch.

You stop your actions for a moment to contemplate what he said, he’s so touch starved, he hasn’t felt the warmth of anyone else in so long. It surprised you to an immeasurable degree, women must throw themselves at him. Instead you just wrapped your arms around him from behind, nuzzling your face into his neck to take in his scent once more. Miguel was stunned into silence, you were so surprising, so understanding of how he gets, how he lets himself go. He wasn’t sure whether to cry or not, you slung your arms against his neck and all he could do is grab your hand and kiss your palm. He didn’t know how to thank you. He swore he would never get close to another woman ever again but here he was, broken down and completely at the mercy of you. He could kiss you…but then he would shatter the promise he made to himself. He would be vulnerable all over again, he’d mess it up again. What kind of idiot would he be if he didn’t learn from his past mistakes? His worst mistake? But your scent, your presence, you were just so damn inviting. God, he was a man after all… but would making you his ruin you?

[t0ast-ghost]

Star Trek II: Wrath Of Khan thoughts:

For this post if I could simply embed the entire movie and just write the word, ‘queer’ I would. Unfortunately you are all stuck with this, happy pride month!

Spoilers for the entire movie will be featured in this post

Going forth:

- I know what the kobayashi maru is so I know they’re not in danger but that’s some good acting Bones

- “‘Physician heal thyself.’” “Is that all you’ve got to say? What about my performance?” “I’m not a drama critic.” Thinking about this pose thinking about this pose thinking about thi-

- “Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young, Doctor.” He’s feeling something and projecting

- “Aren’t you dead?” That’s certainly a way to greet your husband

- They’re so cute. And sad. And cute.

- tiny guys hehe. The boots got sluttier somehow

- McCoy got him glasses cause he can’t read the book without it and bring up that post that’s saying how Spock and McCoy’s gifts go together but McCoy got the logical thing and Spock got the emotional one

- Don’t quote me on this but the things I would do to that man… I wouldn’t.. but holy shit that outfit is killing me.

- hi checkov

- Carol Marcus? Doesn’t she have Kirk’s-? okay then I won’t spoil that just yet

- Creature in a jar moving under the sand

- BOTANY BAY????? Oh wait a sec I should’ve seen that coming it’s called wrath of khan

- Did they kill Chekov?

- hello Khan. That’s a very long and dramatic reveal he’s kinda hot tho

- Thinking about genetic engineering and augmentation and how they’re illegal but star trek presents cases where people now exist and it’s not the fault of the person that they are what they are so they have to question if an entire person should be illegal because of the actions of others… anyway I don’t wanna get deep into this right now, back to the movie

- Are they going to kill Chekov? (edit: not sure why I’m so fixated on thinking they’re gonna)

- WOW THAT IS CERTAINLY A SWEAT DROP

- brain worms… this sounds recently familiar

- HES READING HIS BOOK WITH THE GLASSES THEY DIDNT NEED TO SHOW HIM DOING THAT BUT THEY DID AND ITS ADORABLE OMG

- The conversation between Savik and Spock is so precious. And it’s in Vulcan. And she says “He’s more human than I expected” and it’s like that’s her commenting on Spock’s husband

- Kirk does not want to do this inspection

- McCoy does a little bounce

- “For everything there is a first time. Wouldn’t you agree, admiral” “mmhhmm” “Would you like a tranquilizer?” *Kirk shakes his head*

- I think this one has a more solid plot. I’m enjoying so far :)

- Does McCoy serve on this ship or is he just following along?

- (Had to stop watching around here because I left for the weekend so these thoughts are potentially a bit different)

- wowah! Cool ship!

- uh oh. Chekov on the monitor with the brain worm!

- khan is kinda- yeahh

- I LOVE SAAVIK! RAHHH! Also apparently Saavik is canonically half Vulcan half Romulan according to the trivia

- I like how Bones is just there :)

- Putting Spock in black… they knew what they were doing

- They’re husbands your honour. Spock knows Kirk wants to take command and isn’t to proud to get in the way of making his wife happy

- “You are my superior officer. You are also my friend. I have been and always shall be yours.” Kissing would have been less romantic

- George Takei’s voice is majestic

- “He tasks me. He tasks me and I shall have him. I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up.” Not obsessive at all.. nope this is something completely and totally normal to say about your nemesis

- “Uhura, have Doctor McCoy join us (Kirk and Spock) in my quarters.” Hmmmmm.. gotta inform the whole polycule about the shady government experiment

- lmao BOTH Spock and McCoy know who Carol Marcus is

- oh so terraforming… NEVERMIND REALLY FAST TERRAFORMING

- “Really, Dr. McCoy, you must learn to govern your passions. They will be your undoing.” Flirting, gentlemen?

- How and why does Starfleet continually put Spock and McCoy together? Like this alert would be sent out 24/7

- Spock and his awesome daughter Saavik

- falling

- Kirk with the breast flap down

- such a good moment… such a great moment (sorry for shitty photos)

- Kirk has to put on his little glasses <3

- Kirk does NOT fuck around

- Poor Scotty. He’s got so much emotion about his dead crew mate and the doctor apologizing to him 🥺🥺🥺

- Saavik making up rules to make sure the admiral is safe. Love her.

- “Jim, be careful.” “We will.” MCCOY IS SO BITTER. Like ‘no wishes of luck for me, Spock? Fuck you!’

- The collar on that uniform is silly

- hehe McCoy got scared by a rat. OH HE ALSO GOT SCARED BY A DEAD BODY

- Kirk’s little disappointed “oh my god” as he finds Chekov in the cupboard

- “Suppose they went nowhere.” “Then this’ll be your big chance to get away from it all.” McCoy’s not leaving Kirk, but he still looks like he wants to strangle him sometimes

- Kirk not afraid to punch a bitch

- WAIT THATS KIRKS SON?!? Isn’t it?? I thought David was Carol’s brother. But nope!

- aww dammnit I knew they were still mind controlled :/

- Saavik saving David. Y’know it would be pretty cool if there was something about Saavik, David, and Johanna meeting and maybe serving on a ship of their own.. idk just thoughts.

- ewwww brain worm.

- OH THE ECHOING “KHANNN”

- mmmm Kirk without the jacket. The white turtleneck with sleeves… also McCoy and Saavik are slaying with their turquoise and orange turtlenecks

- “Food the first order of survival.” I bet the fanfic writers had a field day with this one (cause cause it’s a reference to Tarsus IV)

- Imagine this: you’re stuck underground with your husband, your other husbands adopted daughter, your ex, her son (who’s also your son), and your old Russian navigator who’s unconscious and tried to kill you while being mind controlled by a worm which came out of his ear

- David’s got Kirk’s curls <333

- Kirk has a thing for people who look good in blue. Change my damn mind.

- “I don’t believe in a no win scenario.” He immediately calls Spock afterwards cause he’ll never lose with his husbands around

- “You lied.” “I exaggerated.” Yep, he IS that bitch

- Saavik is learning so much from them

- They still just.. let anyone onto the bridge. Like David is just there now

- oh no Scotty! Well McCoy was miraculously there to catch him

- CHEKOV BACK ON THE BRIDGE!

- Once again. Kirk does not fuck around! He just killed those guys

- “To the last I will grapple with thee.” WOW. Okay. Well.

- Khan’s about to terraform this bitch

- McCoy stopping Spock from going into the chamber..

- “You’re not going in there!” “Perhaps you’re right. What is Mr. Scott’s condition?” SIKE BITCH SPOCK JUST FUCKING NERVE PINCHED HIM. McCoy you should’ve been tipped off by the fact he 1. Said you were right and 2. Gave up trying to self sacrifice so easily

- wait why’d Spock connect to McCoy’s psi points and say remember? Remember what?

- I like there’s just a sign that flashes the word ‘radiation’ in red letters

- McCoy and Scotty BEGGING Spock not to do this. Break my fucking heart why don’t you?

- Kirk’s little run to the engine room <3

- I know he’s dying but those boots are so slutty

- Solely watching Kirk’s face is already like watching 10 puppies get killed

- “Don’t grieve, admiral.” Has me crying already. Your closest and longest friend is watching your slow descent into death and you ask him not to grieve you. You want him to know your death meant something. It meant he’d be safe and that is nothing to grieve. I’m going to be sick

- don’t touch me I’m thinking about this

- SAAVIK IS CRYING OMG GIRL ME TOO

- Kirk’s voice breaking.. god. Shatter my fucking heart why don’t you?

- if they play bagpipes at my funeral I’m rising from the dead (violins would be nice though)

- NOO HIS CUTE LITTLE GLASSES BROKE

- “They’re just words.” “But good words. That’s where ideas begin. Maybe you should listen to them.” POP OFF DAVID ! Good line

- SON REVEAL! NOT CLICKBAIT

- There’s 8 minutes left of this. Did they leave this one with Spock dead?

- “He’s really not dead, as long as we remember him.” Good words McCoy. But perhaps maybe you might have some.. assistance remembering him?

- got distracted and drew Kirk but I love the last little Spock narration. Really brave to end a WHOLE MOVIE with one of the best most well known characters being dead

Well that movie did have its pros and… khans

…

See you next time

Masterpost

[usocmedical]

Maintenance and upkeep of biomedical equipment must be prioritized at all hospitals

Technology has impacted almost every sector tremendously, including healthcare. With time, brand new, innovative biomedical equipment and supplies keep cropping up in the market. GE MONITOR and similar, branded equipment especially are equipped with new-age technologies and advanced features. Hospitals need to be proactive about maintaining the efficiency of such equipment, in order to keep their operational expenses in check and deliver quality care to the patients. Simply buying equipment from leading brands like Philips and GE Healthcare is not enough. Adequate attention also has to be given to the proper maintenance and repairs of these items. 

Even though branded equipment do not break down too easily, they do need a level of upkeep efforts to their best potential. While simple supplies like GE Patient Cables are easy and cost-effective to replace, patient monitors and other large, complex equipment offered by the brand can be quite costly. Hence, their upkeep should be a priority for all healthcare facilities.

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[tomssexdoll]

(pls say yes to a happy ending pls pls pls)

Take me back to the night we met

The photo you see above is the last I took of Tom.

He was my boyfriend but also so much more.

My soulmate, best friend and forever lover. We were supposed to marry each other, build a family together and die together, but his life was cut short at the age of 20.

He was on tour and decided to take me with him, he said he had a bad feeling of leaving me back at home, that he felt like something bad would happen. Little did we know the bad thing would happen to him.

He had been dealing with a stalker for the past year, we got together 2 years ago and when she found out about me she went crazy. She'd show up to every concert, every event and every meet and greet. I'd always see her, in the shadows, lurking closer.

I never thought she'd actually do something, she'd made threats in the past. Spamming Tom with emails and dms on every platform. He never payed attention to it though, all he did was love and care for me, protect me in any way he could.

One night we were walking the streets together, taking a break from the concert and taking up a chance to have alone time together. We held hands, interlocking our fingers sweetly. I felt like someone was following us the whole time but narrowed it down to me being paranoid of being in a new city.

Then, we heard a loud pop, Tom screaming and falling to the floor, clutching his stomach. I gasped and turned to him, the bleeding wound staining his sweater. I turned to see her, gun in hand.

I sobbed and fell to my knees, her slowly walking away. "No! No come back! Shoot me too I can't live without him!" I sobbed, screaming out for her.

She just ignored me and kept walking, I grabbed my phone and called the ambulance with shaky hands, Tom slowly bleeding out right in front of me.

I held him in my arms, sobbing and trying to comfort him "it's ok baby...stay with me ok? You'll be fine" I caressed his cheek, tears streaming down my face.

His eyes drooped down, the life slowly leaving his eyes.

"No no baby stay with me!" I choked out a sob, he just touched my hand softly, caressing it with his thumb. "I love you baby, more than anything in the world, never forget that" he whispered, eyes slowly closing.

I screamed for him, holding him tightly and ripping his sweater off, wrapping it around the wound and tightening it, trying to stop him from bleeding out further.

I heard the sirens blasting from the roads, rushing to us and officers racing to our aid. They picked Tom up and put him on the stretcher, wheeling him into the ambulance, I got in with him and held his hand and they treated his wound.

I waited in the hospital for hours, 12 hours went by and the monitor went flat, instead of a normal heartbeat it cut. I panicked and called the emergency button, nurses rushing to the room.

At 3am he was pronounced dead.

My whole world shattered.

My soulmate, dead?

I broke down in tears, collapsing to my knees and weeping at the loss of Tom.

I eventually stood up, shaky hands caressing Toms cheek. "Take me back to the night we met.." I whispered softly, kissing his lips one last time.

(LMK IF YOU WANT A GOOD ENDING) (pls say yes)

tags: @itsmealaiah @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @tomkaulitzloverr @estxkios @charliesgoodboy @ge-billsgf @ballhair @bkaulitzlover

[the1920sinpictures]

1929 Original GE (General Electric) Monitor Top Refrigerator. From Images of Yore, FB.

[tcfactory]

Please consider: Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu role-swap

[LiuJiu, 2300 words]

After the fire, Shen Jiu doesn't sit around, he's aiming straight for Cang Qiong. Wu Yanzi tempts him, but if he is to ever find out what happened to Qi-ge then he can't play around with rogue cultivators, so he ditches the man before Wu Yanzi could take him as a disciple.

He arrives to the sect at a year when they are not doing the disciple selection - the women at the Warm Red Pavilion say it's because the Sect Leader is busy monitoring his cursed head disciple and if the Sect Leader doesn't take part then the rest of the sect has to wait too - but he's tipped off that Bai Zhan is always open to those who are determined enough to climb the mountain and demand admittance.

So that's exactly what he does. The Peak Lord sets him against one of his junior disciples and tells him there are no rules, if he can beat them he's in. It's a test he's not supposed to win, to see his determination and his reaction to failure, as a malnourished slave boy should be no match to someone in good health who has two years of training under his belt. But Shen Jiu doesn't know this, he has come too far to give up now and unlike the scrappy, but well-fed farmer's son he's set up against, he fights dirty.

He sets the basis of his future nickname - The Rabid Wolf of Bai Zhan - that day when he claws the boy's eye out and forces him to yield. His rise among the disciples is almost as meteoric as Yue Qi's and people are on the lookout for when the upstart slave boy will plummet back to the earth, but he never does. When the year is up and the sect is abuzz that Lingxi caves are finally opening again because they are letting the cursed disciple out, he's there in the front row among the curious onlookers and throws himself in his Qi-ge's arms as soon as the other boy steps foot into the light again.

Shen Qingqiu grows up tall and willowy and unpredictable, an unconventional physical cultivator that bends with the wind, but never breaks. With Yue Qingyuan's support as an unshakeable mountain behind his back, he is untouchable. He never bothers to hide what he is, not his scars or his sharp edges or the slave brand burned into the meat of his shoulder, often bared to the world by his choice of outfit; he stands as testament that even the lowest wretches can claw their way up to stand among giants.

Liu Mingqu yields to his rich family and allows himself to be enrolled into Qing Jing. He is not as suited for spiritual cultivation and he has no head for arts, but he is still a prodigy and a really hard working one at that. He learns all there is to learn for a scholar and doesn't rest until he perfects them all - music, calligraphy, painting, poetry - and even if he's ever uninspired about pursuing them, the Peerless Beauty of Qing Jing is a competent teacher who stands head and shoulders over his peers. He masters his temper and his manners and takes to hiding his face behind a fan or sometimes a veil like his sister to discourage people from staring at him.

Their roles may be different, but their nature remains the same. Shen Jiu has always been more clever than he was strong and nothing changed about that now that he's essentially a spiritual cultivator playing at star athlete. He plants a bamboo forest on his mountain - for meditation and ambush practice, he says, but everyone knows he just needed a bubble of calm for himself in the endless war zone of Bai Zhan - and mercilessly beats any disciple who dares to damage the forest. In the serene calm of his little house he hoards books and maps and all the culture he can get his calloused hands on, always thirsty to know more, an endless pit his Qi-ge happily pours obscure knowledge into. He uses the standing feud between Bai Zhan and Qing Jing to spy on them, learn their cultivation methods by sight and listen to the senior disciples do ad hoc concerts, so he can practice music in the brothel or under a silencing array just behind his house.

It's during one of these trips when he discovers Liu Qingge behind the Qing Jing Peak Lord's manor, restlessly shuffling through the steps of a formal dance. Liu Qingge yearns to move, he yearns for the exertion of his wild youth, but there are only so many acceptable options for a scholar and as a cultivator he can't channel his restlessness into hunting or horse riding. That leaves dancing, but Liu Qingge is not a creative person. He sticks to the dances he half-remembers learning as a rich young master and maybe asks his sister for some more, but that's where his resourcefulness runs out on this venture.

Shen Qingqiu watches him go through the steps of the same dozen dances, swap to a few rounds of sword forms - perfectly executed and ethereal, an immortal beauty that earthbound Shen Qingqiu will never be able to replicate - and then swap back to the dances, increasingly frustrated and restless.

"If Peak Lord Qingge wants to learn some better dances, this shidi can introduce you to someone." Liu Qingge startles and almost turns him into a pincushion with a barrage of bamboo leaves.

"What do you want?!" They are secure in their respective positions, but they still don't like each other.

"Peace, shixiong. I'm just looking out for the sect. How would it reflect on me if I let my fellow Peak Lord work himself into a qi deviation and didn't step in?" Shen Qingqiu shrugs and smiles with an easy, predatory grace that makes Liu Qingge wish he had fangs to match the Wolf of Bai Zhan, but there's no malice in the offer. "Come now, shixiong. There's nobody else here. We don't need to do this stupid game of social posturing. Tell you what, as a sign of my goodwill I'm going to teach you a meditation technique to calm your qi after exercise, free of charge."

Almost everything with Shen Qingqiu is a transaction, so Liu Qingge knows better than to pass up the chance to get something from his shidi for free - and the meditation does help settle his roiling qi.

"What do you want in return, then?" It's almost terrifying how intensely Shen Qingqiu's eyes light up.

"That trick with the leaves - teach me how to do it."

Liu Qingge doesn't bother to point out that it's a spiritual technique. It's an unspoken secret that they would be better suited to each other's cultivation styles than that of their own peaks. Shen Qingqiu has a storm of razor sharp leaves dancing in the air before Liu Qingge is even done explaining.

He almost regrets agreeing when Shen Qingqiu takes him down to the brothel, but the women his shidi introduces him to are truly masters of dance - they were stars of an imperial dance troupe before their owner was executed for offending the Emperor and they were sold to the brothel. They take him to the back and teach him dances he could never have imagined, dances that make his heart soar and his blood rush hot in his veins, while Shen Qingqiu lightly dozes among the women in the main reception area, his very presence frightening all but the most unruly patrons into behaving.

Liu Qingge is an honest man and he knows, deep down, that he got much more out of this exchange than his shidi. He’s on the lookout to see how he could repay him, but Shen Qingqiu seems to want for nothing. What he can’t get on his own Yue Qingyuan gifts to him, doting relentlessly on his sharp-edged little brother. So when he hears that Shen Qingqiu is to set out to assist in a night hunt against a particularly dangerous demonic beast that made its way over the to the far shore of the sea, he hops to the opportunity to compile a scroll of all the unspoken rules and etiquette of the island, as well as a short history on the ninja clan that asked for their aid. It’s all information that Shen Qingqiu has no way of learning otherwise, but should ease his time on the hunt.

When he can’t find Shen Qingqiu at the bamboo house he goes looking for him and that’s when he finds the silencing array, that’s when he sees his shidi sitting with his guqin in a clearing, composing music. Liu Qingge’s mouth goes dry, his heart skips a beat - his shidi is like a vision from the heavens and for the first time since he started this scholarly lifestyle, Liu Qingge wants to paint. He wants to etch this scene in his heart and condense it into a poem.

He slinks away before his shidi can notice him and leaves the scroll in the bamboo house. In the three years Shen Qingqiu is gone, hunting that elusive monster that decimates one village after another, he becomes a man possessed - or more accurately, a tender hearted young maiden yearning for her first love. He paints picture after picture, sometimes of a wolf stalking among the bamboo, sometimes of Qingqiu with his guqin as the scene lives in his memory. Rarely he paints his shidi stretched out on a couch in the brothel, languid with feigned sleep and one eye opened a crack as he vigilantly watches over his sisters - he gifts one of those to the brothel, much to the ladies’ delight. He starts writing poetry, yearning, horrible poetry his sister mocks relentlessly, but slowly he finds his words and his latest attempts are almost good. He is the first to hound Zhangmen-shixiong for news on Shen shidi and learns every word of every letter by heart, no matter how short or impersonal the progress reports are.

Liu Qingge knows that his martial siblings are not blind to his obsession - he has caught Shang shidi muttering “bro, really?!” under his breath more than once. He’s not familiar with the expression, but he can understand the sentiment. Yue Qingyuan watches him with patient exasperation, but he knows that the man doesn’t disapprove from the mild comment about how Shen Jiu will need a new ceremonial robe for his return celebration because his old one is ten years out of fashion.

Embroidery is, technically, within the skill set of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hounds An Ding until someone supplies him with Shen Qingqiu’s measurements and the finest materials he can bully Shang shidi into acquiring - “That’s the same stuff demon royalty wears, try not to waste it, my contact had to go through the royal seamstress of the northern kingdom to get it in that color.” - and sets to work. Bai Zhan’s color is steel blue, but that never fit his shidi, so he picks greens instead to match his striking green eyes. He creates a design that accentuates the deceptive slimness of Qingqiu, then embroiders the robes with bamboo patterns and a wolf on the hunt and when they are done he crafts a matching fan - Shen shidi hides from nothing and nobody, but Liu Qingge thinks he might enjoy being a little mysterious.

He is daydreaming about his shidi during the next Peak Lord meeting when the Sect Leader breaks the news: the beast has finally been slain and Shen Qingqiu will be on the next ship back home. Liu Qingge stays barely long enough to not be impolite at the end of the meeting before he rushes off to finish the last touches on the robes. He wants to leave it all set out for his shidi in the bamboo house.

In his haste he misses the look Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan exchange behind his back.

“So, about those arrangements we made…”

“Yes, please. Let’s get Xiao Jiu home before Liu-shidi pines himself into a qi deviation.”

“Yeah, he’s down bad isn’t he?”

“Are you certain your prince doesn’t mind? If you are in any danger, shidi…”

“No! It’s fine, I’m fine, he already agreed to it! In fact, my Xuebao likes your brother so much I’m almost a little jealous.”

“Really now?”

“Zhangmen-shixiong, please stop looking like you are plotting murder. It’s not like that. As the Mobei prince, he really doesn’t have a lot of friends. Of course he misses A-Jiu.”

“If you say so, shidi.”

Liu Qingge is all jitters when he walks down the path to the bamboo house. He can’t understand why because Shen Qingiu won’t be back for months, but he still feels like a maiden on her way to ask out her love on the first date.

He almost drops the package with the robes when he opens the door and finds Shen Qingqiu standing there in the sunlit room. His shidi is too solid, too real to be an apparition, his clothes worn from travel, his heavy pack still unpacked by the table. He stands with a letter in one hand - Qingge recognizes his sister’s wobbly, childish handwriting - and with Qingge’s notebook in which he wrote all his stumbling, horrible poetry in the other and Liu Qingge wishes nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Are those my new robes?” Shen Qingqiu asks, as if they have only met this morning, as if that was a reasonable thing to ask when Qingge’s heart is about to explode from nerves. He can only mutely nod at his shidi. “You know shixiong, I can see that you have put enormous effort into courting me. I would have loved it if it happened when I was here to experience it.”

Shen Qingqiu sets the notebook and the letter down and stalks up to Liu Qingge, his eyes sharp with an emotion he can’t interpret, but it makes Liu Qingge want to bare his throat to his teeth and be devoured.

“So, Liu-shixiong. Are you going to help me try on my new robes?”

[courtofparrots]

Serennedy Pride Week Day 1: First Kiss

A little ficlet of Leon and Luis recovering in the hospital post-Spain

When Luis got hurt- when it looked like he had died- Leon didn’t think he’d be able to bear it this time. 

Don’t get attached he’d repeated to himself, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Not with Luis, anyway. Not with that loud personality, that charming smile, that- everything about him, really.

But Luis hadn’t died as he’d just come to find out. For once, Leon didn’t have to bear another loss, and now he didn’t know how to act.

He stood motionless in the doorway to Luis’s hospital room in some BSAA-owned facility in some corner of Europe that they had been dumped at for medical attention after the chopper had picked up him and Ashley. He’d overheard talk of another man being pulled out of Valdelobos and brought here, allegedly the only other survivor found that night. He was positive it wouldn’t be Luis. With Leon’s luck it was probably Krauser, or worse. He was so sure that when he walked into the room and saw Luis there, covered in tubes and tape and the slow but steady beep beep beep of a heart monitor indicating life, Leon had simply frozen.  

A pair of gray eyes drifted open, and Leon thought he might have stopped breathing then. A sleepy smile pulled up the corners of Luis’s mouth as he caught sight of Leon, “not dead, eh?” he croaked, snapping Leon out of his stupor. He skulked over to the bedside of the beat up Spaniard, pulling up a chair and sitting down at a reasonable distance.

“Who? You or me?” Leon asked, as nonchalantly as he could, twitching his hand in the direction of Luis’s where it was pressed against his side with an IV needle poking out of it, covered in tape that would be sure to yank all of the thin black hairs out when it was removed. He thought better of it before he could actually touch him, and let his hand drop back to his side awkwardly. Luis tracked the motion with his eyes.

“Me.” Luis said, scooting his hand to the edge of the bed and weakly raising his fingers, moving them shakily toward Leon’s dropped hand. Leon did actually reach out this time, if only because he didn’t like the way Luis was straining. He slid his hand underneath the Spaniard’s and began to rub back and forth across tan fingers with his thumb in a stilted motion, attempting and probably failing to be soothing. It was nice. The weight and warmth of Luis’s hand in his own, a simple yet invaluable reminder that Luis really had made it, even in this subpar condition.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to make it for a moment there,” Luis chuckled, “although maybe I should have been worried about you, too. You look like shit, Sancho.”

Leon couldn’t help the smirk that tugged his lips at that, “I promise you look worse.” 

They settled into companionable conversation for a moment, Leon still holding Luis’s hand- the same one he’d held when he thought Luis was experiencing his final moments, he realized. Luis told him about the extent of his injuries, a collapsed lung and lots of lost blood, and Leon filled Luis in on what happened after he left the mines. How he’d saved Ashley, and killed Saddler, how they managed to cure their plagas with Luis’s equipment.

“By the way,” Leon said after a lull, curiosity thumping in his chest, “you said we were almost something. Before Krauser stabbed you. Almost what?”

Luis looked sheepish for a second, before finally replying, “Friends. I was… I was going to say we’re almost friends.”

“Friends? It feels like a little more than that,” Leon said, flicking his gaze down to their joined hands, “doesn’t it?” 

He felt his face heat up as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Luis’s eyes were wide when he looked back up, searching his face for something. 

Maybe the hospital wasn’t the right place for a confession. Maybe thirty-six hours together and several near-death experiences didn’t qualify a bond like the one Leon felt spark in his chest every time he looked at Luis. 

Leon had tried not to get attached but he hadn’t been able to help himself. There was something there with Luis, that he hadn’t felt in… maybe ever. Leon wasn’t going to just let it go without saying anything, not when he had Luis back and safe. He’d blame it on the pain meds the doctors had given him, or temporary insanity, or something if Luis didn’t feel the same way.

The beep beep beep of Luis’s heart monitor sped up slightly. 

“What?” He asked, in barely a whisper, “more?”

“I mean, if you wanted,” Leon said, clearing his throat, “I wouldn’t mind trying. To be more, I mean.”

Luis seemed to surge forward suddenly, before wincing and falling back onto his pillow with a pained groan like he had momentarily forgotten he was badly injured. Leon took his cue.

“Easy there, Don Quixote.” He murmured, rising out of his chair and leaning into Luis’s space, one forearm braced on the pillow beside Luis’s head, a palm placed gently on his warm cheek. Leon let his eyes drop down to Luis’s lips and then back up, letting the question show in his eyes.

“Leon,” Luis rasped, “if you don’t kiss me right now, I am going to hurt you, and probably myself in the process.” 

Leon smiled into the kiss when he finally pressed their lips together, joy and relief settling behind his ribs. Luis was alive, he was okay, and he wanted to try being more. He wanted to try with Leon. 

He broke the kiss when the heart monitor turned shrill, a constant beepbeepbeep that made Leon worry he’d disconnected one of the many tubes from Luis’s body on accident, or that he was hurting him somehow.

Luis simply glared at the heart monitor as he let his head drop back onto the pillow. “Pain in my ass,” he muttered at it, “spilling all my secrets.”

Leon actually laughed; the whole situation suddenly made him feel so light. “Feeling a little excited?” He teased, and Luis blushed. It was insanely cute. 

He probably should have given Luis and his poor heart a break then, but he was too happy. Instead, he nudged Luis over and climbed into the bed with him, wrapping an arm over the Spaniard’s shoulder so that they could both be comfortable and drawing Luis’s head onto his shoulder. Luis sighed and melted into him, muscles relaxing and eyes fluttering shut. It wasn’t long before he was fast asleep against Leon’s chest.

Leon took in the deep breaths coming from Luis, the way his lips were slightly parted, the contrast of his dark lashes fanned across tan cheeks. He followed quickly into a deep sleep of his own, one of the best he’d had in years.